Sarah's small Mustang accelerated through the early hours of the evening, driven forward by a young woman possessed by an enigma.
While every passing street lamp illuminated her small figure, she played back the last few hours again and again through her mind. There were so many little details that seemed to fit together perfectly: Brad and Iris leaving the table only seconds apart, both of them eventually feeling ill, Iris' blatant lie about using the upstairs bedroom (Sarah had watched her leave the table and make her way toward the back of the house, nearly in the same direction her boyfriend had left out to).
"TURN LEFT" an automated voice suddenly blurted out from vacant passenger seat of the small vehicle, her cell phone's GPS leading her toward the unknown destination which had been scribbled upon the solid, white card left accidentally upon her yard.
"The card
wasn't
left," Sarah reminded herself, "It was
dropped
."
Obviously, the small message had to have fallen from Brad's pocket as he kissed her goodnight; there could be no other explanation. But Sarah still didn't know what to make of the ominous text scribbled on it:
"WANT TO TEST YOUR LIMITS TONIGHT?"
As she mulled over the terrible question once more, a troubling answer began to reveal itself.
"Brad must be on drugs," Sarah deduced to herself, working to fit all of her suspicions into a newly-formed narrative.
Yes, of course. Brad was taking drugs.
And Iris too.
That's why they both suddenly became ill. That's why they seemed to skirt away from the table at nearly the same time. And when they returned, both appeared hung-over, Iris so much so that she actually left the Thanksgiving dinner.
But now it appeared the siblings weren't finished for the evening.
"He must have planned to meet her tonight and... get more?" Sarah formulated , trying to fit the information written upon the small card into the equation.
Suddenly, she jerked the steering wheel and sent the vehicle quickly pulling into a concrete drive-way.
"ARRIVED AT DESTINATION," the cell phone congratulated while Sarah switched the Mustang's ignition off before killing the lights.
She sat in silence for the next several minutes, listening to the rattling underneath the hood from the cooling engine.
Her conclusion seemed to make sense, but still something didn't sit right with Sarah.
"But if it's not drugs, what else could it be...?"
The young girl was simply too naive to conjure any darker fantasies than the one she had set her mind to.
Through the fog of uncertainty clouding Sarah's reality, a single bright light shone through the darkness. It was the digital display of the cars clock:
7:30
Now, her small hand trembled as it reached to open the driver-side door. Suffocating hesitation overtook Sarah's senses while she froze in place, analyzing the entire predicament one last time.
The couple had only been dating for a week; why was she acting so erratic about all of this? She wasn't the type to dart off into the night and arrive at a stranger's homes cloaked in dark, fresh accusations ready to spring forth from her delicate lips.
Despite the lingering doubts, Sarah's hand eventually steadied against the cold door handle.
She had immediately been intimidated by Brad's beautiful, tall step-sister; Sarah knew it and Iris must have sensed it. But Sarah was a competitor; she wasn't going to let the best guy she'd met in years lie to her and ruin the relationship just because of one bad influence. If Iris did indeed open the door when she knocked - as Sarah half-way suspected she would - she'd simply tell her to leave her boyfriend alone. After all, Brad said he hadn't seen Iris in months; how much could the step-sister really care about her step-brother?
And suppose someone different answered the door? Sarah calmly told herself she would just leave, after explaining she simply had the wrong address.
The destination had placed the young girl in front of a clean, two-story townhouse; someone civil, even if not Iris, would surely answer the door.
In fact, as Sarah now gazed up and down the street, she quietly admired the nice neighborhood. The entire area boasted impressive, brick townhouses that stretched down either side of a smooth, concrete road.
"
What the worst that could happen?
" she concluded at last, throwing her door open and stepping up the driveway. In just a couple of steps, Sarah reached the brightly lit front patio and began to knock just somewhat forcefully upon the wooden door.
Seconds passed without an answer while the night air grew cold around Sarah's small body.
Then a small panic flooded her as the sound of a lock clicking hit her focused ears.
The door slowly creaked open as Iris stepped out, still draped in the clinging red dress from earlier.
The two women stood quiet on the porch, once more sizing each other up.
* * *
The entire drive home, Brad's thoughts were a wild mixture of flesh and shame. Though Iris' touch had left him hours ago, he still couldn't believe that had taken place. It was possibly more depraved than the bathroom fingering months ago; she had the gall to suck his cock with his girlfriend and family just a few feet away.
Something about him hated his step-sister and the way she had once again taken advantage of him, this time nearly ruining his fresh relationship with Sarah.
"
Thank God she doesn't know anything
," Brad told himself repeatedly, working to comfort his shaken mind.
There was something else that lingered with him as his car finally pulled back into his parents familiar driveway, a feeling that contrasted with the vicious hate bellowing up within in. It was an urge he knew he would never truly rid himself of, but one he had tried to bury months ago all the same.
Brad craved Iris.
His cock now only grew erect when he thought about his step-sister. Since that night his finger had grazed his own asshole - much in the way Iris did on his eighteenth birthday - the thought of Iris was the only thing that managed to send blood to his deflated shaft. Brad had known it then, but never truly admitted it to himself until now.
As he sat in the silence of his driveway, Brad also came to grips with the realization that his conundrum had partially been his own doing. After all, he spent the adolescence years of his life shamefully touching himself to fantasies of his sister. Without ever knowing it, he had given Iris all the power she needed to control him, if she ever chose to do so.
The idea ran through Brad's fragile reality while his cock still ached from the orgasm Iris thrust upon him earlier, clouding most coherent thoughts. What a fool he had been to ever indulge in those shameful fantasies, though it was Iris who ultimately led him down this path he currently found himself tumbling down.
A path that, increasingly, seemed to have only one destination.
After what she did at the Thanksgiving dinner, what more could could his step-sister possibly want with him?