End of Innocence

Chapter V - Solemn Misery

The day of the funeral, my sister was dressed in a short black dress that ended just above her knees, white pumps and gloves, holding a rose in one hand and my hand in her other. My mother had taken her to the salon to have her flaxen hair teased and styled, perhaps to bring some attention to my little sister, to alleviate a moment of suffering, though my sweet angel looked as despondent as she did that night. The three of us, my mother, sister, and me were to place a rose upon the casket and even though I did not think it a good idea for Ashley, she stood resolute and determined. Whether she actually intended to sacrifice that rose, I did not know because she had not said more than six words since the night our father died. Actually, she said exactly six words.

Those words were to me alone and if my mother knew what had come from my sister's clenched lips at the time, I am sure she would have been particularly disturbed. I know I was. I was actually astonished that the meaning of what she spoke was apparent in her cobalt eyes. Even if we did as she suggested, even if I was willing to go along with the idea, accepting that this could be our destiny anyway, it somehow seemed to make its appearance in a way that I would have never dreamed of even in my worst perverted nightmare. Not with Ashley, not this way. After she expressed her innermost thoughts through the horrendous distress she was feeling, my angel said nothing more except to glance deeply into my eyes, periodically, awaiting my answer. After each visual inquiry where I still had not answered, she would modestly lower her eyes to the ground or floor gripping my hand tighter for she would not let it go. I could not even relieve myself properly or bathe without her presence. My mother was in the deepest convolutions of grief and loss that she never noticed the countenance or actions of her own daughter. Ashley was so young and my sister, for God's sake, how could I acquiesce?

After the final words of service were spoken, as the cemetery caretakers lowered the father of Ashley and me into that bleak earth, we walked over to the descending casket and one by one dropped our roses as our final salute and goodbye to a man that all three of us loved so much. My angel was last, she hesitated only for a second or two, then opened her small gloved hand and allowed the rose to float from her grip and flutter down upon the coffin and land where my father's heart resided. No tears arrived in my sweet sister's eyes, she had cried for three days straight, on the fourth, she whispered those incredible and possibly insane words to me, and here was the fifth, the day of the funeral. No words, no tears, just the patient silence awaiting my answer to her proposal.

The reception at our house was typical of those types of affairs. My father was well-liked and many of his colleagues and friends were at our home. His parents had passed away years ago and he had only one sister, Aunt Kimberly, who flew in from Seattle to attend. While close as children, they had drifted apart in their adulthood and yet, there was still a strong association between the two of them. She was clearly saddened and in pain. I decided that it was best if I gathered a plate of food for Ashley and leave the elders to do their mourning and remembrances in peace.

We retreated through the door of our room, our parapet, to lie down face to face upon the fortress that was our bed. I was not convinced that I could get my little sister to eat anything, as a matter of fact, I was not sure she had eaten anything of substance for the last five days. When the thought that she might be starving herself, the awareness of knowing that my angel might be in jeopardy, I knew what I had to do but it was going to be a trade between her and me. I leaned over to her ear and whispered slowly, surely, to make absolutely certain that there was no miscommunication. My angel nodded her head and began to eat. I let go of her hand, just for a moment, and walked out of the room. She moaned a whimper and I placed a finger to my lips. I went back downstairs to grab another plate of food and a glass of milk. I was back upstairs into the room in short order, kissed her blonde hair, her face, apologized for letting go of her hand, and placed the extra plate and milk on the table near the bed. I retrieved some comfortable clothes for the both of us and laid them down on the bed. Ashley and I both changed into jeans and pullovers. I moved close beside her on the bed, gripped her hand, and only then, did my little sister touch her food once more. I looked at the door to our room, shook my head, and feeling Ashley's eyes at my back, closed the door, set the lock for the very first time in my life, and retreated behind it for the rest of the day. It would not open again till late the next morning.

The day drifted into night and the words she spoke played over and over in my mind. I agreed to her demands to get her to eat and now that she had, she was not in any imminent danger of harm; at least, I did not think so. I have never broken my word to Ashley but this, if I went back on our agreement, would I lose the very love I wished to save? My angel can read me at will, through my emotions, my gestures, my own eyes. There is nothing I can keep secret from this bundle of love that I call my sister and these uncertainties that were transposing through my mind were easily captured by her amazing intuition. She caught my gaze with such fierceness that I absolutely knew that I was contemplating a very dangerous deception. At this time, in this space, she would not forgive a deliberate action on my part to break the pact that she had instigated, and I had reluctantly agreed. When distress showed in my features, when now my own oscillating strife within my own heart began to show, she softened her gaze but not her determination that her big brother was going to be good to his word. This action was not the same as all the other events in our shared lives. It was a commitment that Ashley asked me for, something that I eventually would be willing to give in time, but now, I had to be sure, this cannot be wrong, a decision like this cannot be recalled, I asked my little sister, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," one word from her lips spoken with a soft surety that was her characteristic. With that, she placed the pressure of her hands upon my shoulders indicating that I should roll to my back. She straddled me and lowered her face to mine. Ashley reached up and pulled her sun-streaked hair behind her ears and began to kiss me with such passion and with the deepest yearning that my body reacted without conscious thought. The heat of our efforts was taking on a life of its own. Ashley quickly removed her pullover and forced mine up to my chest. She buried her face and lips into my belly, kissing, licking, and caressing with increased urgency. I was losing any semblance of control, any degree of doubt, and when my sibling began to kiss my chest and lick my nipples, I ripped off what was remaining on my upper torso and threw it to the floor.

I returned her kisses to her breast and nipples, the firm pink receptors of her pleasure, kiss for kiss, lick for lick, and caress for caress. After five days of almost no indication that she was willing to break the chrysalis of grief that encapsulated her, my sibling, my dear little sister, launched back into life with a passionate strike against the evil that pressed in on her but was thrown back with the very act in which we were engaged. I rolled her over onto her back, unbuttoned her jeans, and pulled both her jeans and panties off with one steady tug. She reached out against my chest to stop me, rose to her knees, and opened my jeans, undid my zipper, and with a great push from her smaller body, toppled me to my back while removing my pants in almost the same manner.

She was in control, this was her request, she would lead, and I would follow. She kissed me everywhere, her tongue and mouth, touching, closing, and caressing every part of my body. My erection had achieved a gorging and a throbbing madness that I had never experienced before. Her mouth upon my cock, there was just no other name for it. I was being driven into an ecstasy that had no comparison to any act that we had performed before. When I thought that our passion could not move pass this epitome that we just had achieved, she turned her body around and forced her young pussy directly into my face.

Locked in a position where we both were hungry for each other's sex, we caressed, kissed, licked, and sucked wildly at each other while her floodgates opened allowing her juices to drench my face driving her closer to an orgasm unlike any before. Listening to her moan deeply, "Oh my God, oh my God, yes, my sweet brother, yes ...," her voice trailing off, she spun around again, grabbing my throbbing insanity that was my cock, placed it to the entrance of her womanhood, and slid slowly down, stopping only for a second as her virginity was penetrated. A yelp came from her exquisite lips and something that felt very warm dripped down my shaft. Only later did I learn that it was her blood. She moved slowly down, in and out, picking up speed and fury, changing her voice from one of pain to one of complete lust, hearing her say, "Brother, big brother, MY BROTHER" over and over again. She sped up, sliding me in and out of her in increasing stokes, pulling me into her tight canal as deep as I could go until we both exploded in a blinding orgasm emptying everything that I was into her tight womb. In unison, we both shouted, "Oh my God!" The bed became awash with our fluids and her innocent blood. She intentionally sacrificed her crimson sanctity as a statement to reality that she was here to stay, that she would not retreat into the darkness of the night.

That night, in pits of despair, in a pain so deep that all grip with reality was temporarily severed, my little sister, claimed to all of the world, that no, she would not be defeated, that she was alive. My love and I lost our virginity to each other that night. She collapsed on top of me and stayed there while tears that she had suppressed flowed once more. The tears of healing and of tenderness that had once defined her, defined her once more. She whispered, "We are love," and kissed me with such gentleness that I was driven to tears, my heart swelling for this young girl. Those six shocking and powerful words that she whispered in my ear, those six words that would put us both on a very different trajectory, were simply this, "I need you to fuck me." With such crassness, she defeated the wall of absolute despondency that was threatening to close in on her. Never again would I look at my sweet angel the same way. Never would I make the mistake of underestimating this girl's mind. That night, without any misunderstanding on my part, she claimed me as her own for all eternity. The citadel that was our bed had won this round against an evil that had killed.