Eric Courtney - The married sister

He had showed up one morning in front of her house, a sleeping bag on his back, his hair too long and unkempt, his lips twisted in that old grin. "Hiya. Man, you're something else."

After she had fed him and he talked of their parents, she sat down across the table from him and looked at him carefully. He had grown, he was no longer just her little brother, he was a man. And that same mischievous look was on his face. Only, now, there was something more there. The impish quality had become hard, there was a glitter and gleam to his eye that disturbed her. What was it? It seemed to her they were shrewd eyes old beyond belief. There was a cynical edge to his voice, a strange dry quality that told you there was little that he hadn't done.

Standing with Rod's scrawled hasty letter in her hand, Gail shivered again. She slumped into a chair and stared off. What was she going to do? How could she tell Rod? What would happen, how would she feel when Rod was finally in front of her took her in his arms? How would she respond? Would it be the same as before?

Or, would she, in some unpredictable way, give herself away? How would she act in the throes of passion?

Her depression came back and she felt the need of a drink. Just one, she told herself, then put her hand to her head and closed her eyes. She had to face this thing, she had to think it out. More than anything, she had to resolve it in her own mind.

She had been always told and felt it was true that she was a person of character. Setting her jaw, she carefully folded Rod's letter and put it away in the desk with all of his letters that she had kept. She could not resist sitting and rereading some of them, tears brimming in her eyes. She loved Rod and he was the only man ever to have her… until Lee, her brother, came to visit.

She couldn't stand it any longer. She slammed the desk drawer shut then swiveled to the kitchen where she poured a drink of scotch into a glass and sat down at the kitchen table. I don't care if it's morning and this is a stupid thing to do. I want to think, she told herself.

She swallowed the scotch and made a face, feeling it burn down and hit her empty stomach. Hastily, she made some instant coffee and poured the rest of the scotch in the cup and sat down to sip and think.

One of the wonders of the human mind is its adaptability. Gail had not once allowed herself to think of what happened with Lee since he had gone. While it was happening and while he was staying with her, she could think of nothing else. When he left, something in her brain shut off. An instinct told her she needed time to think, to recover. She became busy with hundreds of chores. She visited girl friends and baby sat. She went alone to movies and when she had seen them all, when there was nothing to do or no one to see, when it was night and she was alone with only the TV playing endlessly, she drank. She drank heavily and many mornings awoke to find herself still on the couch, clothed, with the television hissing a pale blue screen in the corner. Her head would ache and her stomach was sour and she took long showers and plenty of aspirin.

And she dreaded becoming a secret drinker, a furtive alcoholic.

She would sit for hours, smoking, drinking, longing for Rod and wanting so much to talk with him. Then, thinking of what happened, she dreaded the idea of Rod coming back to her; she was not the same person he had left.

She sipped steadily on her coffee and inhaled the fumes of the scotch and willed herself to think of what had happened and try to understand it and the way that she felt.

Lee, restless the first night, insisted they go out. He had money and wanted to see the town. They had gone out for drinks and dinner and Lee had grown funnier and more charming as the night went on. Driving in the car, Gail had said, "Where to now?"

"Nirvana, babe."

"Huh?"

"A little action."

"Gee, I don't know. I don't go out much now that Rod's away. I've been out of it. How about a movie?"

Lee slumped down in his seat and made a face. "How about a taffy pull or a night class in wax casting? Come on, babe, you can do better than that."

Gail smiled at her brother who looked so bored. "Okay, what do you want to do?"

"A nightclub. One of those topless-bottomless joints. A real sleazy dive with lots of broads around and guys trying to make time."

Gail raised her eyebrows. "Somehow I don't think I'm the person to ask about that. Besides, you're only nineteen. You couldn't get in."

Lee pointed a finger at her and made a popping sound with his mouth. "I gotta phoney I.D."

"Isn't that against the law?"

"Sure, if you're dumb enough to get caught. Look, who's going to say my I.D. is phoney? I left my real one back at your place. Where's a strip joint?"

"I don't know if I should go to such a place?"

"Ever seen one?"

"No."

"Then don't knock it if you don't know about it. Aren't you at all curious?"

Gail smiled despite herself. It was almost as if he could read her thoughts. In fact, she was very curious in what really went on in what she and Rod called "the topless pits". Since Rod had been in Vietnam, she had abstained from sex, feeling a great yearning and loneliness yet feeling that it was all worth it. When her man came home, he would come to her bed and it all would be just beautiful. Now, Lee had tickled her curiosity and she felt this was a perfect time to satisfy it: she couldn't go with girl friends because it would look funny, like they were trying to "get picked up". She certainly couldn't go with another man and square it with her conscience. But she could go with Lee. He was not just another man, he was her brother. She could, when in a teasing mood, tell Rod she had been in a topless bar and feel no guilt, because Lee had been along.

The delicious sense of doing something wrong, a child-like fit of giggles came over her. "I know where a lot of those places are."

"Take me there, you improper bitch!" Lee said, clowning and waving an arm.

They were in a gay mood full of nonsense when they entered a club, THE PUSSYCAT PARLOR. Gail found herself, once inside, in pitch blackness. She blinked and held her hand out. Lee, thoroughly accustomed to such dark, led her along through the tables. There was a bright stage light at the far end of the dark bar and Gail knew that would be where the "action" was. She didn't look at it; half out of excitement and half out of her footing as they weaved toward the light.

They were seated at a ringside table by a girl in a lowcut blouse showing plenty of cleavage. When Gail sat down she saw that the girl was wearing black tights and panties that were cut so as to ride high up on her hip. The girl smiled invitingly at Lee and took their order. Music was blaring from a jukebox and Gail caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. A girl, young, attractive, with long hair and an Indian headband across her forehead, mounted the stage. She was dressed in a simple miniskirt and she smiled down at them, her body already beginning to sway and move to the rock beat.

Very simply, with a smile that was relaxed and a little lewd, she pulled the dress up over her head and Gail gasped. The girl was naked, save for her sandals and headband!

Gail knew she had a good body, but this girl was really good. She was tall, willowy, with a long waist and full firm hips. Her long tapering thighs came down to dimpled knees and long calves ending in incredibly thin ankles. Her breasts were high and huge and jutting out, away from each other and ended in taut nipples like two dark bullets. Her stomach was flat and her buttocks, seen in the mirrors behind her were two full smooth cheeks with a deep crevice dividing them.

Gail's astonished eyes took her all in and finally centered, hopelessly fascinated, by the V of soft curling pubic hair that formed where her deep thighs met her torso. Her mound of Venus jutted out ever so enticingly, only to serve notice as to the hidden delights of the warm inviting vagina hidden up between her thighs.