Always Home

4. Saturday classifieds. Chinese take-away. Other plans.

At some point in the early hours of the morning, before dawn, Elsa got up and went back to her bed, not without incoherent grunts of protest from me, and not without a few hastily stolen kisses. But she left my bed, drifting up like an angel in the darkness, and floated back to hers. I lay half-cognisant for a few minutes after that, my face resting on her side of the pillow where her fragrance and body heat still lingered, before slipping into restless dreams.

One moment Elsa was there, warm in my arms, and then she was gone. Later, I remembered one dream scenario in particular: she had to go shopping, she said, as she slipped from my arms and up into the air, blowing me kisses as an ethereal mist enveloped her and her hair turned silver, floating mysteriously in the hazy aura of light surrounding her.

I woke up clutching the pillow to my chest, curled up around it as if I'd been clinging to it for my very life. It was morning already: Elsa's alarm clock said 9:23. Elsa was gone, her bed neatly made. I untangled myself from my quilt and crawled over to the bed. As usual, Elsa's satin pyjamas were tucked away under the pillow. I lifted them to my face and inhaled her scent, my body almost going limp with relief. Elsa. How could she have become such an important part of me, so quickly?

Stuffing the pyjamas back under the pillow, I stumbled out to the bathroom and washed my face. Then, after pulling on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, I wandered out into the living room.

"Morning, Ger."

"Morning, Elsie."

Elsa was sitting at the dining table, with the Saturday classifieds spread out in front of her and a green felt-tip tucked behind her ear as she pored over the job advertisements. The sliding door was open behind her, allowing a fresh breeze to blow in from the back yard. It was sunny outside, and the air was clear.

"Where's Marn?" I asked, sitting down across from Elsa. She looked up at me, smiling, and I grinned back.

"Getting ready for swim training," Elsa said.

"Already? She's only been there two days..."

"I know, I know, but you know Marn. Has to keep busy."

"Where's she training -- at the school?"

"Nope, it's a public pool somewhere close by. I offered to take her, but she said she needed to warm up, so she's going to walk."

Only Marnie would exercise on her way

to

sports practice. Still, that was the kind of girl she was.

I nodded towards the paper. "Anything promising?"

Elsa sighed. "Not really. At least, nothing I feel qualified for."

"What, you mean an honours degree in English lit

isn't

worth anything in the real world?" I asked, feigning shock.

"Quiet, you," she grumbled. "And don't get smug about it either -- I've got a pen here with your name on it. You're going to take a look after me."

"Yeah, yeah, I was just teasing," I said, grinning. "So, is there anything to eat?"

"Marn and I had breakfast already. There's bread there for toast, and bacon and eggs if you can be bothered with cooking."

"You mean you're going to make your poor kitchen minion fend for himself?"

She shot me an amused glance. "After last night's little demonstration, you still trust me to cook

anything

for you?"

I leaned forward, across the table. "Not a thing, sweet one. But still—"

"Hey, Ger. Morning."

I started, guiltily, at the sound of Marnie's voice. God, that had been close. I'd just been leaning in for a kiss...

"Hey, Marn," I acknowledged, resuming my seat and turning in her direction. She was standing there in tracksuit and sneakers, with her sports bag slung over one shoulder. "Ready to take on the world, I see. Did it ever occur to you

not

to volunteer for sports straight away?"

"God, that's so

you

, Ger," she scoffed. "Anything to get out of waking up early. But

I

happen to like competition. And besides, you know Mr Anderson, that teacher I was telling you about? He's one of the coaches." She grinned. "And I wouldn't want to keep my dear coach waiting, especially not when I'm dying to strut around in front of him in my bathers. Later, guys."

"See ya, Marn."

"Be careful," Elsa warned, getting up from her chair. "Remember to call if you want me to come pick you up."

"I will, and I won't." Marnie laughed. "Stop fussing over me, Your Grace. I'm not a kid."

"I know," Elsa said. "But you

are

my sister."

"Then

act

like one! Catch you later!"

"See you!" I called, as Elsa dashed to the door, waving to Marnie as she jogged off down the street. My stomach was fluttering just a little as the morning sun revealed Elsa's figure through her blouse and caressed her legs with golden light. I came to my feet and moved towards her.

"That Marn," Elsa said, chuckling, as she closed the door and locked it. "Well, Ger, what should we—"

She gasped as I pounced on her, pressing her up against the wall. My hands slid up her waist, tugging at the fabric of her blouse, before stopping just under her breasts, cupping them greedily. She succumbed to my hungry kisses, blindly returning them as my fingers unbuttoned her blouse, slipping into the folds of cloth, then slid around behind her to unsnap her bra.

Breaking off the kiss, I lifted her bra off her breasts and fastened my mouth on her right nipple, sucking it hard and lavishing it with my tongue. She groaned, her back arching as if to push herself harder into my mouth. I reached up with my left hand and tweaked her other nipple hard, feeling it swell and harden under my touch.

"Oh, God," she panted, helplessly. Her hands grabbed my head, her fingers tangling in my hair, clutching me to her. We sank down; we melted to the floor, my lips still firmly attached to her breast. Her fingers let go of my hair and her hands drifted down to fumble with the catch of my shorts. I moved across to suck on her other nipple, teasing it gently while slipping my right hand under her skirt, walking it up her thigh.

She managed to free my cock, caressing it gently, sliding her hand up and down with only the slightest hint of pressure, just enough to tease. The tips of my fingers found the slick fabric of her satin panties and slid under the elastic, searching for the entrance to her pussy—

"No," she said, her voice strained, breathless. "No. You first, this time."

And before I knew it, she had tugged my shorts and boxers down around my knees and was gently kissing my cock, bathing it with her tongue as her fingers stroked up and down at the base of the shaft, encircling it. The pleasure was exquisite. The warmth of her mouth around me; the tenderness of her touch -- one hand slowly stroking me, the other gently fondling my balls.

"Tell me... tell me if you like this," she pleaded, uncertainly, before lowering her mouth over the entire length of my cock, bathing it with her tongue and sucking hard.

"Ohh..." I groaned, abandoning myself to her. "Oh God... softer, Elsie, not so hard... oh yeah, that's good. Stroke it gently. Oh God I love you. Oh, yeah. So good... Harder now, Elsie. Harder, faster. Yes... Faster... I'm gonna come, Elsie. I'm... gonna... ohhhhhhh..."

She pulled back reflexively as cum shot out of my cock, the initial spurt catching her in the face, the rest dribbling down her hand as she continued to jerk my cock with quick, hard strokes, milking the cum out of me. I shuddered in pleasure as she used the cum to lubricate her efforts, her hand sliding slickly up and down my cock, which was now almost unbearably sensitive.

"Elsie, no..." I begged, writhing under her touch. "No, Elsie... that's enough. That was... wonderful."

She finally took her eyes off my cock long enough to look at me, an anxious smile on her face. "I... I loved doing it," she whispered. A trickle of semen slid down her face, pooling on her lower lip. She licked at it tentatively, looking at her cum-stained hands spread before her. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she raised them to her lips.

"You don't... have to," I told her, my breathing still a bit ragged.

"But I..." Lowering her eyes, she licked a string of cum from her index finger, but couldn't help making a face. I reached out, taking her hands, and wiped them off on my t-shirt.

"You really don't have to, Elsie."

She wouldn't look at me, an expression of shame and dejection on her face.

"Your turn now," I whispered, reaching under her skirt again.

"Gerald, I... I... ahh..." She moaned as my hand slipped back into her panties. Her pussy lips were already slick with her juices, allowing my fingers to slide into her easily. She stared into my eyes, breathing heavily, a pleading expression of sheer vulnerability slowly overtaking her face. "Oh fuck, yes," she whispered, thickly. "Oh Ger, yes, touch me. Play with my pussy."

I had two fingers inside her now, sliding in and out of her warmth. I lifted her skirt with my left hand, looking down at her. In unspoken assent, she lifted her bottom, allowing me to pull her panties down. She leaned back, sighing and spreading her legs wide, as I bent down and gently nuzzled the soft curls of her pubic hair.

"Yes," she groaned. "Yes, lick me. Oh God, make me... make me come..."

Her body tensed as I bent to my work. I took my time, slowly working with her towards ultimate fulfilment, letting her ride the peaks and troughs, doing as she begged but also playing it a little bit insolent, teasing her. But still, within minutes I could tell she was building towards a monumental orgasm, and I didn't have the heart to hold back any longer.

As always, the actual moment seemed to take her by surprise. Her face was flushed red, beaded with fine perspiration and dried rivulets of my cum. She was gasping quietly as her hips thrust back and forth to meet the rhythm of my fingers and tongue, playing with her. My tongue teasing her swollen clit; left hand keeping her pussy lips spread; right hand driving in and out of her wetness. The smell of her pervaded the air. She groaned and thrashed helplessly.

And then, almost magically, she hit the peak. Her legs stiffened and locked. All she could do was strain and gasp, almost unwillingly, longing for the moment to take her... and when it did, it tore through her, taking her over completely, tossing her body like a rag doll. She cried out achingly with the joy of release, the cries wrenched from her lungs between laboured gasps for air. For a small eternity, she came under my hands, my fingers still deep inside her, her hands tugging painfully at my hair.

Until finally, unable to hold onto it any longer, she fell limp. All she could do was gasp weakly, lying there half-dressed with her skin bright pink and an expression of utter joy on her face.

And, looking at her, all I could think was how fucking much I loved her.

* * *

Elsa spent most of that afternoon in Marnie's room on my PC, working on her resume. The employment section of the paper was filled with neat green circles, sometimes annotated in Elsa's flowing handwriting. 'Call for job description.' 'Ring Monday morning.' 'Too far away?'

I reluctantly put my head down and pored through the job listings myself, but nothing much leaped out at me. Somehow, the admin and secretarial jobs that Elsa had mostly gone for didn't appeal to me. I'd been studying business admin -- repeating second year, to be honest -- up till now, but I couldn't see myself taking a job in that area. At least, not without considerable duress.

Marnie came home smelling of chlorine, and vanished into the bathroom for a good hour or so. When she came out, I could immediately tell what her plans for the night were. She'd blowdried and styled her blonde hair elaborately, and her face, though as yet untouched by makeup, was shiny and pink, a sure sign that she'd been exfoliating.

"No rest for the wicked, hmm?" I said, looking up at her from where I was sitting on the couch, with the paper folded over in my lap. "Ever hear of a quiet night at home?"

"Yeah." She grinned. "They suck, Ger. Even

you

used to know that."

"So where you goin'?"

"Ah, you know." She shrugged. "City. Thought I'd meet Kaz and Kelli and go cruise the clubs a bit."

I nodded. That was typical enough. "Have fun. How're you getting back?"

"Yeah." She wrinkled her nose. "I forgot about that. Can't split a cab anymore. Grrrr. Ah, well." She brightened. "I'll crash at someone's place. It shouldn't be a prob."

"Have fun," I said.

"Oh, I will," she assured me, and flounced off to her room. "Okay, Your Grace," I heard her say, "play time is over. Off the computer and

out

of my room!"

"I'm almost don—" Elsa started.

"No, no, didn't you hear me? Over! Out!" Marnie cried gleefully. "Out, damned spot!"

"Hey, who are

you

calling a spot?" Elsa demanded.

"I spot only one spot here," Marnie retorted, laughing. "Come on, sis -- scoot!"

And Elsa unceremoniously scuttled out the door, which shut loudly behind her. She looked at me, taken aback.

"Well, at least she's in a good mood," I pointed out. "It'll do her some good to hang out with the guys."

"Yeah, but does she have to be in

quite

so good a mood?" Elsa asked, grumpily, and folded her arms.

"Awww, c'mon." I grinned, getting up from the couch, and moved over to her. "C'mon, Elsie... where's that smile of yours? Come on... come onnn..."

And she giggled reluctantly as I poked at her sides where her arms weren't covering them. "Okay, okay. You win, Ger. I wish you weren't so good at that, sometimes. Cheering me up when I don't

want

to be..." She stuck her tongue out at me.

"It's all good," I said, airily. "Plus Marnie being out tonight means we're all alone."

"Oooooooooh," she said, mockingly. "However shall we cope?"

"I'm sure we'll think of something," I said. "I won't even make you cook."

"And is that for my benefit, or yours?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at me. I leaned forward with a smile and kissed her.

"We'll call it even."

* * *

After dropping Marnie off at the train station, Elsa and I stopped in at the local Chinese restaurant to order take-away -- after an appraising glance through the front windows first. Elsa said that you could always tell how good the food was at any given ethnic restaurant by looking at the clientele, and the dine-in area was pretty much packed with a fairly even mix of Asians and locals, all talking at the top of their voices, as diners tend to do. The din was incredible as the two of us walked in, to be greeted by the pretty young girl at the front counter.

After perusing the menu taped to the countertop, we decided on our order: Mongolian chicken for Elsa, sweet and sour chicken for me, with spring rolls, fried rice and a serve of hot and sour soup to share. The last was more at Elsa's curious insistence than any particular inclination on my part, but hey, it wasn't going to break the bank.

It was... getting easier to go out in public now. We drew back to the scuffed wooden bench in the atrium, shoving the customary pile of outdated magazines out of the way, and sat next to each other, legs brushing up against each other's. Elsa, of course, had slipped back into big sister mode as soon as she walked out the door at home, but I felt less self-conscious now. After all, there were siblings out there who were affectionate with each other; I just had to make sure my behaviour didn't cross any lines. I wasn't going to hold her hand or kiss her cheek, but I could sit there next to her and joke with her, and laugh. That wasn't strange.

In fact, it felt almost natural.

It was getting dark by the time we got home, so Elsa broke out the candles again as I closed the blinds. She set out cutlery, plates and a pair of wine glasses, and uncorked a bottle of red, one of several we'd 'liberated' from our old place before moving out. We sat there across from each other at the dining table, with the twin candles shimmering between us.

"To... us," she said, quietly, raising her glass.

I tipped mine to hers and clinked them together. "To us."

We ate in companionable silence, surrounded by the candles' aura of warmth and light, barely managing to make a dent in the huge servings of food. After trying some of the soup, Elsa wordlessly pushed it over to my side. I tried a bit, made a face and nudged it back with an 'all yours' flourish of my hand. She giggled quietly, to herself, and drank some more wine.

Without Marnie there to limit us, we were free to be Gerald and Elsa again; we were free to be in love once more. As the meal wore on, I found myself sitting there abstracted with my fork dangling from one hand, looking at her more than the food. The candlelight shimmered in her hair, enriching it with golden highlights, and shone faintly in the purple fabric of her loose velvet blouse.

"'Drink to me only with thine eyes'..." she whispered, and I blinked, only then realising that she'd noticed me watching her, and was watching me back.

"Sorry," I muttered, looking down and shoving another forkful of rice into my mouth.

She reached out across the table and put her hand over mine. "Don't be," she said, softly.

I leaned forward, spilling my glass across the tabletop, and kissed her, my hand cupping her cheek. She brought her hand up and traced the curve of my left ear with a feather-light touch, kissing me back needfully.

Hours seemed to pass that way.

Finally, though, we both drew back. I wiped up the spilled wine, and Elsa refilled both our glasses. We'd pretty much both finished eating, though, and after picking at the food a little longer, we decided to break camp. Elsa put the lids back on the containers and put them in the fridge while I washed the plates and rinsed out my wine glass. She stood to one side, leaning against the counter and sipping from her glass, as I finished up. Then, setting her glass aside, she slid behind me, wrapping her arms around my back and resting her head against the back of my neck. After a pleasant moment or two, she started rubbing her head against me contentedly; it was a wonder she wasn't purring.

"Someone's had a little too much wine?" I suggested, turning off the taps and swivelling around in her embrace. She leaned forward, smiling, and kissed me.

"Wine is good," she told me, matter-of-factly. "It washes one's cares away. And you know all those French people... they drink wine all the time."

"And that's why they're cursed to be French?" I teased. "As some kind of penance?"

"Silly." She pouted. "Don't make fun of me like that, you mean thing. They drink wine so they're

happy

, Ger. We should move to France. Then we could be happy too."

"I'm happy right now," I whispered, kissing her again. "Happy, here with you."

She sighed, moving in to hold me tight. "So am I, Ger. So... so am I."

"Then why do you want to move to France?"

"Because..." She drew back, looking up at me with a half-flirtatious, half 'mournful little girl' expression -- tricky, yes, but she pulled it off somehow -- on her face. "Because then we could be happy wherever we wanted to, Ger. Because no-one would know us. No-one would know I'm your sister."

"We would," I pointed out. "Would that make it less wrong?"

She blinked at me, confused. "I... I don't know. I don't... I don't want to think about it anymore. Let's go out."

"Out? Out where?"

She smiled, hugging my arm to her side. "Let's go get videos and munchies and just pig out in front of the TV all night, Ger! Just you and me. You might even get lucky..." She looked slyly up at me again, and this time the look was

all

flirtatious.

"God, well, who could say no to that?" I laughed. "Okay, let's go!"

* * *

Something seemed to have bitten Elsa, some weird kind of cheerfulness bug that had her holding my hand and swinging her arms as we walked through the dark streets to the local video library. I felt safer under the cover of darkness, with the windows shrouded and blinded to our passing by, so I didn't protest at the hand-holding. It was nice to see Elsa so chipper -- well, 'giddy' would have been a better word for it, actually -- and it felt kind of good to walk at her side, to walk

with

her rather than just 'beside' her.