Michael Smith: Siblings

I enjoyed falling asleep with a woman I adored and a female body I constantly lusted after cuddled up to me on each side. I would wake once or twice each night and lie there listening to their breathing and delicate snoring, and I'd fall in love all over again. Often, Alex's arm would be draped across my chest while Connie's arm crossed my body from the other direction a few inches lower.

Wednesday night, I woke gradually from an enormously sexy dream and found both of them quietly licking my quivering cock from both sides at once.

"It's just us," Alex whispered.

"Thank God for that,…" I murmured and simply lay there, indolently enjoying the attention. I repaid both of them Thursday night by very quietly and gently sucking at each girl's tits until she was moaning in her sleep.

Saturday was a sad day in spite of the joy we took from simply being together. It would be our last day and our last night together, at least for awhile, because Connie had to be on her plane at 10:30 Sunday morning.

None of us felt like carousing as we had the previous weekend. Without any real discussion, we spent the day quietly and domestically. We made sure all of Connie's clothing was gathered up from around the house, and was washed and packed. We collected all the books and souvenirs she had acquired in two short weeks and packed them in a couple of cartons for direct shipment. And we made ourselves more and more miserable in the process. When Monday morning came, Connie wouldn't be there with her broad smile, her dancing eyes, her devious puns. She wouldn't be there to stand on tiptoe and kiss each of us good morning. She wouldn't… Hell.

In mid-afternoon, I was standing at the bedroom window staring morosely out at the gray sky, when Alex stuck her head in the door and beckoned urgently. She looked worried. I quickly followed her down to the living room and discovered Connie sitting on the big, old overstuffed sofa, the one that had been in Alex's room when we were young.

She was huddled against the back cushion with her legs drawn up protectively and her arms hugging them. Her face was pressed down against her knees; her cascading hair hid almost all of her from view. It wasn't until I saw her shoulders move that I realized she was crying.

"She won't talk to me, Michael." My sister looked at me anxiously and urged me toward her with one hand. Whatever had upset Connie was upsetting Alex as well.

"I don't think she wants talking," I replied and went to the small, huddled figure. Curled up in a ball like that, she seemed not much bigger than a child, never mind that she was older than me. I wasn't quite sure what to do, either.

I sat carefully next to her and leaned close, and I heard her muffled sobs. They made my chest ache. I gently stroked her head and let my hand linger on the back of her neck, a warm presence she couldn't ignore.

"Sweetheart, what is it? Connie? Please tell me what we've done…" I spoke softly, as I would to a child. I was pretty sure we*hadn't* done anything to upset little Connie – and I was pretty sure she wouldn't let that question go by.

She finally raised her head and looked at me; her lovely eyes were swollen and red and the knees of her jeans were soaked with her tears. Her mouth was contorted with something like anguish. It was a few minutes before she could regain some measure of control but she still had difficulty speaking. She*did* seem like a little girl.

"Oh – it – it wasn't – anything – you did, Mi- Michael! Or – or Alex. I – I*love* you guys! I just – I just – don't want to – to go *home*…!" And she broke down again and buried her face in her hands. I glanced over at Alex, holding her clenched hands under her chin in sympathetic pain, and she moved around to Connie's other side.

"Connie, darling, we love you, too!" My sister seemed on the verge of tears herself as she took the other girl's hand.

I could think of only one immediate therapy. I slipped one arm behind Connie's knees and the other around her shoulders, scooped her up, and set her on my lap. She buried her face in my chest and her small frame shook with renewed sobs. I put my arms around her and held her and rocked her a little, making hushing sounds and stroking her hair.

It might have looked silly to an outsider, but it worked, over a period or ten or fifteen minutes – and it dawned on me quite suddenly that I had used the word "Outsider" in my mind in its old sense of "everyone but Alex-and-me." Connie had become fixed in my thoughts as one of "us."

She snuffled and gulped and blotted her eyes on the hem of her T-shirt. Then she saw the large damp spot on my shirt and made a "huh" sound, which was as close as she could get to a laugh. She didn't look embarrassed at her loss of control; she knew that honest emotion, even as intense as this had been, was never anything to be ashamed of in this house.

"I thought I could get through today without losing it." She looked sadly at the two of us. "But it just hit me all of a sudden that I won't *be* here tomorrow morning. God, I want so much to stay here with you -or take both of you with me. There*has* to be a way for us to stay together!"

I cupped her chin in my hand. "Sweetheart, we*will* find a way. It'll take a while and I have*no* idea*how* we'll do it – but we will. I promise you, Connie: We'll find a way."

I hadn't noticed that Alex had moved over until her arms circled my neck from behind and I felt her cheek press against mine. She was sniffling a little, too, as she kissed my ear. She reached out and touched Connie's cheek and added, "Now that we've found each other, nothing's going to keep us apart. Not anything, Connie."

Since Connie's gear was organized and ready to go, the three of us spent the rest of Saturday pretending Sunday would never come. There was a Bogart mini- festival on TV that evening and we lounged around in various configurations and watched "Casablanca," "To Have and Have Not," and several others. We popped popcorn and fed it to each other.

For awhile Connie sat in my lap like a kid, with her head leaning against my chest. Then I lay with my head in Alex's lap – my favorite spot in the universe for many years. Connie and Alex propped each other up on the sofa while I sat on the floor with my back to the furniture and massaged the bare feet they draped over my shoulders. We made an effort not to feel there was any hurry.

That night, we went back to the simple formulas. Alex and I made love in the tried and true missionary position. As many times as we had fucked over the years, the desire in each of us was as strong as it had ever been. As I reached a gasping climax, Connie lay beside my sister, kissing her long and soulfully, nibbling at her ear, and holding her hand.

A little while later, I lay on my back with Connie impaled above me as Alex licked her breasts and her ears and stroked her sweet ass. Then the girls lay side by side, kissing and caressing each other's bodies, while I lay behind Alex and stroked and petted them both. And I tried to think of a way for all of us to remain together that wouldn't require someone's career to be sacrificed.

Sunday morning we laughed and joked to cover the somber mood. We got Connie to the airport and sat around holding hands and smiling at each other until it was time for her to board. At the last minute, as our emotions threatened to unravel again, we indulged in another three-way clinch, as we had two weeks before.

Connie hugged both of us tightly and then said with fierce resolution, "You guys start shopping for a larger bed. By this time next year, I'll be back – to stay!"

And as Alex and I stood at the observation window and watched the plane taxi out of sight around the corner of the terminal, we hugged each other and managed to hold back most of the tears. We were sure we could find a way to reunite our new family.