Stormy Ch. 01

The storm yesterday evening was a downpour; hail pounded the roof sounding like thousands of hammers simultaneously. We had not had rain in almost a month and this drenching provided some relief. I hope that the heat wave is broken also. The sun set a bright red on the western horizon.

I awoke this morning to clear azure blue skies, bright sun, and calm winds. The sailor's lament about red sky at night must be accurate; it was a beautiful morning. I was the only one awake and enjoyed the silence of the quiet morning, the time alone to reflect.

I sipped a cup of coffee as I stared out the sliding glass door onto the deck and beyond onto the yard that seemed more green following the rain. Squirrels scampered about, birds landed on the birdbath for a drink, even annoying rabbits hopped about without a care. Apparently, the hail did no damage.

My quiet moment was broken as I felt a hand take my hand. I turned to see my adorable little sister standing next to me. I deeply loved this goofy little girl; she was sister, best friend, and confidant rolled into one. She seemed to have a sixth sense knowing my thoughts before hearing them. "I love you too, Alex."

Let me explain a few things. My sister, Cherie, is attractive. I do not mean attractive as in runway model. She is girl next door attractive. Cherie has sandy colored hair that leans more to brown than blonde. She has penetrating green eyes that sparkle in any light, cute little nose and lips with a mischievous smile locked into place. Cherie is 24, single, no boyfriend, and living in her family home.

I am 27, about two years and ten months older than Cherie is. I am six feet one inch to Cherie's five feet nine inches. I guess I am attractive, although like Cherie, I am single, no girlfriends, and living in our family home. My hair is a shade darker than Cherie's and we share the same color eyes.

We do not live on some isolated property in the middle of nowhere; we live on the edge of a large city in the Midwest United States. We have good educations, careers that let us work from home, and plenty of time to socialize. We socialize a lot.

We live at home for convenience and because we inherited it from our parents who died in a private aircraft accident three years ago. The house is large enough that Cherie and I have our own apartments and share the common areas. The sliding glass door onto the deck and yard is one of those common areas where we share private moments like this.

Cherie leaned her head onto my shoulder and I turned my head to kiss the top of her head. "We have another busy work day ahead of us, Cherie. We better have some breakfast, clean up, dress and get after it. I have a client meeting downtown today, what's up with you?"

"I have to go into town too, I have some sketches needing approval before I colorize them. When is your meeting, maybe we can go together." We were both business when we talked business. Even working at home, we remained professional having clients to our home offices or meeting them in town. Our meetings were close enough together in time and place that we planned to make it a joint trip.

Cherie works in graphic arts and free-lances for museums, theaters, and the city. She has a reputation for blending real scenes with creative interpretations. She has a keen sense of color that gives her work three-dimensional qualities. Her meeting today is with a privately funded old market area art gallery.

I am a human resources consultant specializing in interpersonal communication, diversity, and talent management from within. My meeting is a third follow up with a law firm that is regional and national. They have problems with their computer-mediated communication, they lack a feedback loop and communication is top down. I have to moderate some meetings because of hubris in the firm.

Our meetings concluded late that afternoon and we met at one of our favorite hangouts for a drink. Cherie was in a great mood, her sketches approved as is and she could move forward with colorizing. I was less happy, my client was blind to the affect he has on dialogue in the company and today's moderated meeting did not go well.

"Lets stay in town for dinner, Cherie. There is a new Indian restaurant that reports say has very authentic cuisine. My treat." Although my meeting did not go well, I did collect a healthy fee.

"I was about to suggest the same thing and restaurant. We are well tuned to each other. I was even going to suggest you treat." Cherie's smile melted away my anger over my meeting; we paid for our drinks and walked the few blocks to the restaurant.

Our pallets were not denied a treat of excellent Indian food. The spices were fresh giving the diner a sense of eating in India. We had a new place to add to our list.

My car was only a short walk from the restaurant and the evening was pleasant. Cherie took my hand, as is her usual behavior. The casual observer might not see our family resemblance seeing only a man and a woman on an evening stroll. Our friends knew how attached we are to each other, especially since our parents died.

"Alex," Cherie broke our silence, "what would you say to a proposal that we research how we could form our separate businesses into a single entity. I think our two minds together can form a business in which we compliment our strengths."

"A business proposal, keep talking, I'm interested." Somehow, I knew she geared it to her more creative side. "I presume it has more to do with your creativity and less to do with consulting."

Cherie squeezed my hand, "Not entirely, my thoughts do revolve around graphic interpretation and art; however, I want to explore how we might link creative graphic art with dialogue and communication. If art speaks to people in different ways, how can we use art as a tool to improve dialogue? When you see a piece I work on, you see it differently than I even though our minds think alike in other ways. You help my work when you tell me what you see. My meeting today went well because your eyes helped me see things I missed."

"Then perhaps we could use graphic interpretations of miscommunication to show how dialogue breaks down when too much hubris invades an organization. My words are having no impact on my client and perhaps seeing hubris in graphics, he might get it. My sweet sister, you are on to something." I squeezed her hand as she had squeezed mine.

We drove through the evening streets of town toward our home. Cherie spoke first, "Would it be to presumptuous to suggest we toast our joint venture with some wine when we get home?"

"Not at all, we have a couple fine bottles in the chiller waiting for a special occasion." I winked and smiled at my sister knowing her mind was already imagining a business plan.

"What's the wink and smile for?"

"For you, I know you are already racing ahead conceiving a business plan."

She gave me a look I had not seen on her face before then she shocked me with the next statement, "I guess it's about time I conceive something." Cherie bowed her head after saying that. My sixth sense of her told me she wished she had not been that forward.

"Cherie, we are both in the same boat. We focus on work and, even though we party often, we are always a couple. We are tuned to each other's frequency and people accept that. I don't ask for dates because I wouldn't want you left alone." I hoped my tone and words were correct. I wanted my sister to keep smiling.

Cherie lifted her head, looked at me and smiled, "Tonight it is wine and no business. Let our hair down and get silly. You up for that?

"Silly it is. How silly, one bottle silly, two?"

Giggling, Cherie said, "Drunk silly, three, maybe four. No business tonight!"

We reached home in just a few more minutes, I suggested we change from our business clothes and relax with our wine. Once inside, we went to our separate suites and changed. I slipped into comfortable athletic shorts and oversize T-shirt. Cherie and I dressed the same way home alone and that is what I expected tonight.

I went to the wine chiller and pulled a bottle from the rack, got glasses, and went to the living room waiting for Cherie. My jaw dropped when she walked into the room. "What are you gawking at? Haven't you seen an attractive woman before."

"Pardon me for staring. I'm seeing much more than attractive, I see hot!" Hot she was, dressed in tight form fitting shorts and matching tube top clearly without a bra.

"So you are seeing me differently tonight. You think I'm hot. I don't have to be all business." Cherie gave a twirl for effect and the effect was full. She filled the shorts nicely. "Now, lets get silly."

We drank the first bottle quickly and dived into the second. We put our favorite music mixes in the CD player singing and dancing right along. Cherie got into the music and some of her dancing was highly suggestive.

One of our slow songs came up in the mix; Cherie pulled me close, "Dance with your hot little sister." Cherie was more skin than clothes and touching her was electric. Her arms around my neck and mine around her waist, she gyrated her hips against me. I dared not think the question that popped into my mind fearing Cherie knew it and would answer it aloud.

We continued our dance, Cherie's head resting on my shoulder, her face nestled against my neck, was she pursing her lips kissing my neck. Did I just hear her sigh? The song ended but Cherie continued hugging me, pressing her hips against me, and pursing her lips against my neck.

"Cherie, shouldn't we stop, the music ended. Lets drink our wine." I admit I was having difficulty thinking clearly.

"I'm just getting started, you said I looked hot. And, it feels like you still think I'm hot." Cherie rubbed against me making sure felt what she thought she felt. I pushed away.

"Cherie, we are blood, there is a taboo that we dare not break." I handed Cherie her wine and raised my glass to her.

"Alex," Cherie whispered, "didn't you enjoy having a real woman excite your hormones?"

"We need to keep our hormones to ourselves. I am not going to go there with my sister." I made sure she heard my serious tone.

Cherie gave me a pout then in a childlike voice, "Then you don't want to get silly?"

"Silly and sexy are different. I'm not doing sexy with my sister." My voice remained stern.

"Are you saying I'm sexy?" Cherie wanted to trap me with my own words.

"I said silly and sexy are different. Don't try trapping me."

"Then you think I'm not sexy?"

"You are my sister, my attractive sister, I'll admit that; however I'm not going to let you play word games with me. Can we just drink our wine?" I sat in my favorite chair with a full glass of wine. My sixth sense of my sister made me aware that yesterday's hailstorm was about to fade from memory with the storm brewing in Cherie.

After Cherie gulped her wine and refilled her glass, the storm broke. "You know you find me sexy and now I'm going to prove it." In a move that would make a magician marvel, her tube top flew across the room landing in my lap. "Look at these tits, Alex. These tits are full, firm, and 34B. My nipples ache for a man's touch. Damn, you look!"

I looked; saw beautiful breasts standing proud on Cherie's chest. She was right; they were full and firm with delicate little nipples. "Okay, I see them. Put this back on." I flung the tube back at her and she let it fall to the floor.

Almost as fast as her tube hit the floor, her shorts did also, no panty. "Keep looking. See this ass, see how tight it is, no wiggle, no bounce. This ass wants to feel a man's balls slapping against it, a man's hands groping it. See this neatly trimmed pussy; this is a virgin pussy, hymen intact. This pussy aches for the feel of a man's cock breaking that little flap of useless skin that makes a girl a woman. Do you see me in my full nakedness?"

"What do you want from me, some kind of approval that you have a body that any man would long for?"

I could not say another thing before Cherie picked at my words again. "Are you one of those any men? Are you that stupid to realize when I say I love you I mean it in every way?"

"I am not any man, I am your brother. I can't be anything other than your brother; I won't be anything other than your brother. You talk about a joint venture and now you want to rip the fabric of our life, our home. I feel it may already be in shambles." I rose, threw the remainder of my wine down my throat, and shoved past Cherie for my room. "Enjoy yourself, Cherie. You went way past silly all the way to fucking stupid!" I locked the door to my suite of rooms; I had to get her display out of my mind. How could she be so crude and how could she think I would fall for her display. I did not even care what was going on in the living room.

I did not want to leave my apartment when morning arrived. Did Cherie go to her apartment, pass out drunk in the living room, and was she dressed. The image of her nakedness returned vividly to my mind, the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips, her ass, her pussy, and her legs. Then came the image of her legs wrapped around my naked waist as I satisfied her need to loose her virginity. I had erase that vision but now I have had it and it is etched from where it came.

I had to face the day, opened my door and walked toward the living room and kitchen. I saw Cherie's two pieces of clothes on the floor. I looked into the living room, she was not there. I moved toward the kitchen. Looking out the sliding glass door, I found Cherie. She looked asleep on one of the deck lounge chairs.

I opened the door and stepped out. "Cherie, wake up. You're still naked and exposed." Then I saw her lips blue, her skin clammy and cold. Cherie was dead.