Wild Sex Tales(Erotica)

“I really appreciate this, Jacey,” Kevin said for about the hundredth time.

We were sitting in my car on the highway, inching forward through horrendous traffic. The storm roared around us like an angry god. We’d been sitting for so long, it felt like the whole day was already burned away. The combination of a busy shopping Saturday morning and the torrential weather had turned the two-lane road into a parking lot. Transformed every second into an agonizing hour.

I’d agreed to drive my brother (of course I agreed), but this was already way outside what I’d been promised. And every time Kevin repeated his thanks, it was worth even less.

As we sat there — staring at the same shopping centers on either side of us and wondering how many different Burger Kings one stretch of road needed — all I could think about was my poor, precious books. Calling out to me in unstudied pain. Kevin may have thought I could get an A just by waking up in the morning, but I knew the truth. It took time. Time that I was currently wasting.

Kevin, meanwhile, seemed perfectly happy to sit in my sedan. He turned up the music and bounced his leg. He was so unapologetically dopey as he sang along. Like, he took pride in just floating through life with no plan.

“You look like a doofus,” I told him, “Dancing around like that.”Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

Kevin grinned at me. OK, so maybe sometimes I could see the whole ‘handsome’ thing about my brother. If he wasn’t such a slouch.

“Well, you look dumb, um, breathing like that,” Kevin said.

I gave him a disdainful look. Clearly, I looked quite proper. I was wearing a perfectly sensible outfit for my thin frame: a dark green sweater and black jeans that were both totally functional yet complimentary. I had my brown hair held back with a clip so that it never got in the way. My wire-framed glasses were the perfect allegory for my personal philosophy: the bare minimum of fuss that was needed for things to be functional.

Kevin wilted under my glare. “Fine, you actually look really cute,” he said, then glanced away. I knew he was trying to be nice, but it only made me angrier.

Cute. That word haunted me like none other.

No matter how hard I tried, it was hung on me. I’d had boyfriends in high school and college. Not one of them ever called me sexy or hot or beautiful. But cute? I had more of that than I could spend.

And I’m sure you’re saying, what’s wrong with cute? It’s way better than fugly, right? And, sure, I guess. In the same way that a C+ is clearly better than a D. But that doesn’t make it something to aspire to. Cute is for children. Puppies and kittens are cute.

I’ll admit that my body wasn’t doing me any favors. I was only a bit above five feet and I was skinny all over the place. One time, some drunk frat guy had called me a ‘spinner’ and I knew enough to be insulted. But as much as my body wasn’t all that, I didn’t look like some pre-teen either. I had tits (An A-cup, of course!) and my butt stuck out in a way that I thought looked pretty good.

I just wanted to be seen as something more than ‘cute.’ I was clearly a woman and not a girl. But it didn’t stop people from treating me that way. And it made me want to throttle them with my adorable little fingers.

Back in the car, Kevin must have noticed my reaction because he tried again.

“I mean, you’re good looking,” he said, “Sexy. OK not sexy. It’d be weird if my older sister was sexy. You’re hot. Um, attractive. Oh dammit.”

OK, so maybe my brother was better off sticking with cute.

“It’s OK,” I told him, “I get what you’re trying to say. You’re not too ugly either.”

“Gee thanks.”

“Come on, I know you have girls all over you,” I said.

Kevin blushed and looked away. He wasn’t a mimbo or anything. In fact, I’d never seen my brother bring a girl home. But I knew how women saw him because I’d watched my own friends moon over him.

“I just wish you’d take things seriously once in a while,” I said, “I get that college isn’t for you. But there are tons of other options. You can’t spend your whole life laughing. Trust me, eventually you turn into the joke.”

“I know,” Kevin said, “That’s why I’m doing all this. I want to make it happen, Jacey. I really do.”

Eventually, finally, we got to the auto parts store. We raced from the lot and into the building, the rain pouring down like it was trying to drown us. It beat on my umbrella so hard; it sounded like a drum solo. I didn’t want to think about what would happen if I didn’t have it.

The store was warm, and it smelled like oil grease. Kind of weirdly comforting, actually. It took Kevin forever to find what he needed. And the line at the front was worse than Disney World. But we left the store triumphant.

Going home, the traffic was no better. We inched forwards for what felt like hours. I swear every moment that passed in that car felt like flaying a piece of my skin. Death by a thousand seconds. I tried to make myself calm down.

Finally, we pulled up in our driveway. I opened the door. The storm was going as hard as ever. The droplets were already stinging my thigh. I reached for my umbrella and clicked it open. Only, it didn’t. I examined it, like I was going to understand it even a little bit. The mechanism had frozen. I didn’t know why, and I couldn’t fix it.

Nor could I simply pull into the garage. Because that’s where Kevin’s broken-down car (the impetus for this ill-fated adventure) was sitting. I was stuck in the rainstorm of the century without a shred of cover.

I threw the umbrella to the backseat in disgust. Kevin eyed me.

“I’ll go with you,” I told him.

“I don’t have an umbrella either,” Kevin said, “I was sharing yours, remember?”

I kept the curse word in my mouth, mulling on it like a piece of hard, sour jerky.

“Fine,” I said, “We’ll make a run for it.”

We leapt out of the car and scrambled for the front door. The water was cold, and I screamed, despite myself. I got to the door, fumbled with the keys, and finally tumbled into the foyer. We’d been out for less than five minutes. Both of us were soaked.

“Oh my God!” I shrieked.

My clothing clung to me. I took my hair out of the clip and shook it out. I was dripping puddles on the floor. I needed to change, then take a hot shower, before I could head back to my room and start my bacchanalia of bookwork.

“Um, Jacey?” My younger brother stood next to me, similarly soaked. His clothing clung to his body in a way that, if I wasn’t his sister, I would find very alluring.

Kevin, apparently, at some point, had gone and gotten himself what I could only describe as a man-bod. He was tall, but I already knew that. And broad shouldered. Which I’d seen for myself. But now, as his clothing stuck to him like it had been painted on, I realized my little brother was ripped. Bulging biceps. Prominent pecs. What was surely a washboard stomach. Holy crap my brother was…

“Sorry,” Kevin said. He’d clearly caught me leering but misread it as contempt. He looked down at the ground, sheepishly. “It’s just, um, I need your help.”