Author's note: this is the fourth installment in a series. In chronological order:
Backseat Ride: Sitting on Son's Lap
Backseat Ride: Son's Sex Education
Backseat Ride: Fucking Sister / Mom
Backseat: Sister Seduces Brother
***
"... birthday to YOOOOUUUU!" My mom, Aleja, sang in a pitch-perfect bright soprano voice. My brother, Lucus... let's just say his rumbly bass voice was endearingly off-key.
Lucus pushed the chocolate coconut cake, with eighteen small candles lighting up the softly lit room, toward me. "Got a birthday wish?"
I watched the candle flames reflected in his handsome green eyes, his pupils wide open in the dark.
I wish I could have a perfect boyfriend like him, I thought, gazing into his eyes. Handsome, tall, a sexy deep voice I could listen to all day, and that adorable awkward kindness to most everyone. On our first day in high school (I'd skipped a grade, so we started on the same day), I watched at lunchtime as the leader of the cool kids offered him membership in their clique:
Tiana: "Hey. Come sit with us."
Lucus: "Why?"
"Cause we're awesome."
"Why? Because you're the smartest kids, too?"
"We're not fucking bookrooms, if that's what you mean. Speaking of which, why are you hanging out with that fat dork?"
"You pronounced 'hanging out with my beautiful sister' wrong."
* Rolls eyes * "Her? Beautiful? Please. You're gonna have to ditch your sister if you wanna join us and not be a social pariah."
"If you're at all indicative of the members of your clique, why would I want to sully myself by sitting with the boring and mean kids?"
"Oh, you're SO gonna regret this."
"Already regretting these squandered minutes I'm never getting back."
So Lucus spent his years in high school hanging out with me and the other smart outcasts, a gorgeous Adonis amidst a sea of nerds and aspies and awkward kids that didn't quite fit the image needed to get socially 'promoted'.
Re Tiana's 'fat' comment: I'd gotten my mom's curviness -- huge breasts, a relatively slim waist, and a ginormous booty. Plus I'd doubled down on her Cuban heritage, with dark skin and eyes, and black curly hair, visually straddling the line between Latina and Afro-Caribbean. Thus, my name Ciara -- 'little dark one' in Irish.
Not quite the Cool Kids Template for beauty, where the acceptable feminine body types ranged all the way from thin to borderline anorexic, and thick coke-bottle lens glasses like mine were Not Done, even ironically.
I popped out of the weird conversation in my head I was having with the imaginary readers of my imaginary autobiography, realizing my silence was on the verge of being awkwardly long. "Yeah, I know what I want for my birthday."
Lucus raised his eyebrows questioningly.
"It's a secret." I blew out the candles extra hard, on the wildly unlikely chance that lung capacity and air pressure applied to lit candles were bizarrely correlated with obtaining one's deepest desires.
***
After I had opened my presents, my mom gave me a big hug. "Wish I didn't have to leave my baby girl so soon. But I gotta drive back tonight - that damned divorce deposition."
"I love you, mom. Wish you and dad could stay together."
"Was that your birthday wish?" she whispered. "Because, trust me, staying with a man who can't help cheating on you ain't much of a present."
"Naw. Something else."
"OK. Love you too, Ciara."
Aleja gave Lucus a big hug also. A curiously long, intimate hug, their bodies pressed tightly together.
Whaaaaat? Nah. Can't be.
My mom wiped away a tear and left.
My brother and I watched through his apartment door as mom climbed in the Toyota Sequoia she was sharing with Lucus, an older SUV that looked absurdly large against her five foot frame. She fired up the big V8 engine, waved goodbye, and left as we waved back.
"Soooo..." I said, stepping back into the dim room illuminated by several strategically placed coconut scented candles, a feminine touch undoubtedly chosen by mom. 'Cause Lucus was fucking clueless about interior design, judging from the bedroom he'd had back in Austin: Yang Central. Manliness incarnate. Terrible feng shui.
"What?"
"About that hug..."
He stared at me. Didn't reply.
Holy fuck, I thought.
"Are you and mom... you know..."
I could see in his eyes that he didn't want to answer, but couldn't lie to me. Seriously, even if he wanted to, he couldn't pull off a successful lie with me. There's a reason I was gonna be an eighteen year old junior at UT Austin - you don't rack up over a year's worth of Advance Placement credit by being slow-witted.
"... fucking?" I said, finishing the sentence, since apparently I had to be really explicit here to drag an answer outta him.
"How did you know?"
"Cause you just told me."
He rolled his eyes at being so easily outmaneuvered.
"And that hug. I mean, get a room."
"Wow. I pity any guy reckless enough to be your boyfriend, cause he ain't gonna have ANY secrets with your mind reading abilities."
"You're pronouncing 'smarter than me and really observant' wrong. No such thing as mind reading. Anyhow, enough with the deflection: You. Mom. Fucking???"
When he didn't answer, I said in a soft voice, "It's OK. I'm your little sister. Someone you can be completely honest with. And vice-versa."
I saw the moment of surrender in his eyes.
"Let's sit." He sat on his thrift store couch, upholstered in a godawful fish scale pattern.
I sat close to him, squeezed his knee, and cocked my head a bit sideways in an 'I'm listening' gesture. "Tell me everything."
"Uh... it started on the ride from home to here, when mom sat on my lap in the back seat rather than sit in stony silence with dad in the front seat. And... well... that big booty of hers was kinda wiggling and bouncing from the rough patches on the road. Then my... stuff... got ha --"
"Stuff? THAT's your euphemism? Try 'penis'. Or 'dick'. Not gonna shock me."
"Fine. FINE. My dick got hard. Happy?"
"Sounds like your dick was plenty happy, sir."
***
Five minutes later, I had scooted next to Lucus, our sides and thighs touching: "... and then, driving through Waco, when I was trying so hard not to cum in mom's pussy 'cause of all the noise I'd make, dad had to swerve to avoid someone's car damn near hitting us, and was cussing kinda loud. And that's when we both came."
"And dad didn't hear that? Or notice the scent of sex?"
"We tried to be as quiet as possible, considering. I think dad suspected, from the questions he kept trying to ask. 'Cept mom kept deflecting to the topic of him cheating on her." He looked in my eyes, worried. "So, TMI? Mad at me? Grossed out?"
I leaned my head against his chest. Inhaled his intoxicating scent, his part-woodsy, part-flowery cologne melding perfectly with the fragrance of his skin. My heart beating madly, I looked up at his handsome face. "I could never be mad at you, big brother."
He put his arm around me. Hugged me. "Thanks for understanding."
I could feel my pussy getting wet from the delicious contact with the most desirable man I'd ever known. "Do you think mom is attractive?"
"I love her curves. And her voice. She's beautiful."
"Do you think I'm pretty? I mean, not like mom, of course, but --"
His eyes grew soft, and his pupils dilated even more. "You're fucking gorgeous. The sexiest woman I know."
"Please don't lie to me like that. I know you're trying to be kind, but I'm pretty big --"
"I fucking LOVE your curves. Why do you think I'm exaggerating when I'm telling you exactly how I feel?" A little heat in his voice. Not quite offended at having his veracity questioned.
"I -- uh -- do you know how many times kids in high school called me 'fat ass' and 'four eyes' and the N-word? And worse?"
"Fuck those ignorant jack--" He paused, reining in his temper at me being mistreated. "If I had a machine to create the sexiest, most desirable woman, tailored to my exact taste... she's come out looking and sounding and acting just like you."
"Really?" I was trying not to cry. Not entirely succeeding.
He gently wiped the tear off my cheek. Kissed the spot where he'd interrupted its progress. He whispered, "It's such a shame you're my sister." Stroked my hair, his fingers slowly rubbing across the black loose curls I wished were straight and light blond like his hair. "You've got such perfect hair. So soft and curly. Bet woman get hair envy, seeing you."
Ohmygod, I thought. All these moments I wasted, wishing I looked different... when he wants me just the way I am.
"Kiss me," I whispered.