Bedtime Stories for Grownups

A Kiss is Just a Kiss

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I FELL ASLEEP with my finger still on my clit. I guess it wasn’t too raw to rub out another one or two. I woke up still thinking about it.

WTF? Was that all it took? One kiss… All right, two kisses… Really nice kisses, and I’m actually thinking about having sex with my brother? Cannot be! Still, I couldn’t deny the reaction I’d had. Yes, my nipples got erect. Yes, my clit tingled. Yes, my panties were soaked. Damn it! I got turned on! I was going to have to nip this in the bud, so to speak. Before he got a chance to nip my bud. I giggled. Sleep deprivation. I’d just do my homework and then get one of those ten-hour nights in. I forced myself to concentrate.

I was pretty proud of how much I got done. I went downstairs when I smelled popcorn popping. That was our whole family’s dinner on Sunday night. Popcorn and milk. As usual, I took my bowl and glass to my room after I said goodnight to Mom and Eric. I couldn’t actually look at him. I didn’t think he was actually looking at me either. Not actually. Maybe from the corner of his eye.

I finished my US Government assignment and decided that before I went to sleep, I’d just look to see what else was on that story site beside my brother’s fantasies about me. On the front page there was a new story by ‘Sister’s Favorite.’ Damn it, Eric! Didn’t I tell you to stop? Of course, in all the time we spent together this afternoon he never said he wouldn’t write any more. But he’d said it was all ruined now and that now it was all gone. I clicked on the story and started to read.

And cry.

Factually, it was an exact telling of what happened this afternoon when I confronted him. He must have an incredible memory because I couldn’t find anything wrong in his recitation of the facts. It wasn’t that, though. Reciting the facts if you took everything else out made for a pretty dull story. It was telling about what he was thinking and feeling at the time that made his story so real—so visceral. It was like being let inside his head.

She told me never to tell a girl I loved her right after our first kiss. But how could I not tell her? The feelings weren’t new for me. I’d lived with them for years. I could give you a thousand reasons that I loved her. Kissing her for the first time was only one. I loved her for never being judgmental about me. Even when she confronted me about the stories I write, she didn’t tell me I was sick or twisted. She didn’t tell me I was a bad person. She might not love me like I love her, but if I am ever loved by someone, that someone will treat me like my sister does.

And he ended the story without sex!

My fantasy is over. My sister—the real girl that I’ve loved for so long—kissed me. She might never kiss me again, but that one will linger on my lips forever.

I rated the story a ten and went to bed. I didn’t masturbate. I cried myself to sleep.

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School was school. We were in the home stretch. Prom night was coming up and we’d graduate four weeks later. Of course, Bradley was taking me to the prom. I was determined to get my brother a date, too. He couldn’t keep living the fantasy of loving me. Neither could I. That was stupid. Nearly everyone I thought of already had a date. And those that didn’t, I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.

I hadn’t seen a new story by him in over a week, but I kept going back to his list of stories and reading the ones I hadn’t read yet. One or two I re-read. I realized I was masturbating to my brother’s image instead of Bradley’s. I really had to get a grip.

I’d failed entirely to come up with a girl who was suitable for my brother to take to the prom. I guess that’s when fate intervened. Two days before the prom, Bradley missed school. I called to find out what was up. His mom told me Bradley was sick. Sick as in the hospital sick. I rushed there after school to see what the heck was going on.

He’d complained occasionally about having stomach aches and cramping, but when it really hit him Wednesday night, it was gut-wrenching. He had a fever and blood in his stool. The diarrhea was non-stop. They ruled out food poisoning on the phone with the doctor. His parents were so freaked out they actually called an ambulance instead of driving him to the hospital. They thought it could be an intestinal parasite. The doctors had been trying to figure out what was wrong with him. He looked miserable.

“Oh, baby,” I said as I kissed him on the forehead. “Are you okay?”

“Hil, that was dumb enough to be something I’d say. I’m in the hospital and wearing a diaper because I can’t always make it to the bathroom in time. I’m on some kind of sedative to keep my gut from cramping. I’ve never felt so miserable in my life,” he said. I petted his head and held his hand.

“Do they know what’s wrong?”

“They ran an MRI with stuff I had to drink all morning. The doctor thinks it might be some chronic disease instead of a bug. Hil, I’m not going to make it to prom Saturday night. I’m sorry. Even if I get out of here by then, chances are that I’ll still be wearing a diaper. Not cool.”

Well, that sucked. I mean, I really looked forward to going to my senior prom. But it sucked that Bradley wouldn’t be able to go. I had a really big night planned for him. I just petted him and told him it was okay.

“Hil, you should still go. It’s important to you.”

“It’s a little late to get a date for prom,” I laughed. “I’m not the kind of girl who would just go to one of those things alone.”

“Um… I know it’s not the same, but maybe you could at least get Eric to take you. I know how hard you tried to find a date for him. Maybe the two of you could come up to see me before you go to the dance so I can give you your flower. He can wear my tux. We’re not that different in size,” Bradley said. I looked at him and thought about the engine-rebuild and oil change for my car.

“How often do you have my brother help you out?” I asked. Bradley turned away from me. His answer was so quiet I could hardly hear him.

“A lot. If he hadn’t helped me, I’d never have had the courage to ask you out in the first place. He… gave me a lot of pointers.”

“And rebuilt my car engine and changed my oil,” I sighed.

“And picked out the right flower to go with your dress. And vetoed my idea to wear a white tux. Not to mention helping me through Physics and with Algebra. Your brother is a great guy, Hil. There’s really nobody else I’d trust with you,” he said.

Could he trust me with my brother?

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“This doesn’t really mean anything,” I explained. “Just that I’ve got all this stuff prepared already—you know, like my dress and my hair appointment, and everything. It won’t cost you anything because Bradley has already paid for the tux and the flower. We’ll take my car so we don’t have to worry about a limo. So, what I’m saying is will you please take me to the prom?”

“No.”

I was stunned. He always helped Bradley out. I knew he wanted to be with me and kiss me again. This way he’d get a whole night of dancing with me and, yeah, I’d kiss him again. I kind of liked the idea myself.

“Why? I thought…”

“I won’t take you to the prom if it doesn’t really mean anything, Hillary. I couldn’t,” he explained. He spoke so softly that I had to lean in toward him to hear what he was saying. “It would mean something to me. I couldn’t stand it if it didn’t mean something to you, too.”

I sank down on his bed. He swiveled in his chair to face me. I thought about what he said. I really tried to find him a date for the prom and was sad that I failed. But the truth was that I rejected several possibilities because I didn’t feel they measured up. The truth was that when I thought about them with my brother, I got jealous.

“Eric, I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t want to lie to you and make it sound like I’m suddenly in love with you. You’d know I was lying. I didn’t realize how well you knew me until I started talking to Bradley about all the help you’ve given him. Why did you do that, Eric? Why did you tell him what I’d like to do on our first date? Why did you fix my car for him? Why did you tell him what my favorite chocolates were on Valentine’s Day? How did he know to get me a Cymbidium Orchid for my prom corsage? Why did you tell him what to say to me the day after we made love the first time? You did all that, Eric. Why?”

“Because I want you to be happy. That’s all, Hillary. I didn’t do it for any ulterior motive. I didn’t do it so you’d owe me. Like the stories, I never thought you’d find out. I just want you to be happy.”

“And you never thought about a reward or winning my love?” I asked. He shook his head. “Then, my dear brother, will you please take me to the prom, just because you want me happy—without expecting any reward or winning my love? Will you do it for me just because I’m your sister and I asked you?”

He sighed. I could tell he wanted to say no, but he didn’t. He just nodded. I got up and went over to him. He was still looking at the floor. I lifted his chin so he looked up at me and then I kissed him. It wasn’t the overpowering romantic kiss we’d shared a couple weeks ago. It was just a gentle kiss.

“Thank you,” I said.

 
 

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