Kayla inhaled sharply, tense, her back arched, catlike, her toes constricted, like a newborn's tiny fist and her head flung back, exposing her smooth pale neck. Swiftly, her form inverted, at once supple and relaxed instead of taught and unyielding, her breath sighed out, deep and heavy. As her chest heaved up and down, her lungs inflated with air and a new life, a spring released from a dam to flow unencumbered through lush woodland. A muffled purr and wet, delicious slurps emanated from between Kayla's wide-spread long legs. Rosy, red chestnut locks framing a heart-shaped, freckled face lifted into Kayla's view.
After a sloppy, childish wipe of her glistening mouth, Kayla's sister, Dalia, broke into a broad, warm smile. As if the two reflected each other in a mirror, Kayla matched Dalia's grin, her own tendrils of cherry hair spread along the pillow, tousled by her uncontrolled undulations of the last few minutes. Dalia crawled up to kiss Kayla's salty cheek and whisper a declaration of love in her ear, before nestling contentedly into the curve of Kayla's arm where it met her chest, inhaling the scent of sex and sweat and shampoo, drifting asleep. Wings of a balsa-wood plane, Dalia's shoulder blades jutted from her bare back; her sides lightly swung between wide and narrow as she respired. Kayla studied Dalia's backside, the parabolic curve of her buttocks, hiding the sweet wet area below.
Not too long ago, Kayla and Dalia shared neither the same bed, nor even any conversations. Kayla spent the past few years struggling to earn a college physics degree. Four months ago, a graduate at 22 years old, the difficult job market forced Kayla to return home and live with her family. Her mother and father drove to work every morning, and came back every evening, exhausted. Her older brother spent his days in his room, typing, gaming, chatting on his personal computer, cut off from the world around him. Her younger sister Dalia, however, recently completed high school and at 18 years old, found herself in a similar predicament to Kayla. Both unemployed, they began to spend their inordinate amount of free time with each other. Kayla read books aloud to Dalia; they dreamed about the future; Dalia introduced Kayla to French films, leading to discussions late into the night about sexuality and freedom and what it means to be a woman.
This closeness progressed naturally to the point where the late night talks so exhausted and exhilarated them, that neither one wished to return alone to their own bed. Kayla took to surreptitiously retiring into the warm embrace of Dalia's bed. At first, they simply embraced, snuggling together, limbs entwined, sleeping close. One night, though, as they held each other, two blossoms from the same stalk, Dalia flipped to face Kayla, hip to hip, breast to breast, nose to nose. Kayla and Dalia touched their lips together at the same time, matching gecko tongues darted in to play. Pushing doubt about what they were doing out of their minds, they began to flex and twist in each other's arms. Fingers found soft moist folds and hands slid along the dripping spaces. That night they made love for the first time. The hours of each day now only filled the time between when Kayla and Dalia could reconnect.
"Girls!" a bellowing voice boomed, "Come downstairs! It's family time, we're going to the park!"
