Sam didn't intentionally set out to fuck his sister. He consoled himself with that when he needed to, when the guilt crashed over him, or when he lay awake in the dark of the night, masturbating, reliving it all in his memory. He didn't intentionally set out to do it.
That's not to say it happened by accident or that it was an inevitable thing. Wine was involved, but not enough to make a difference, not enough that either of them were incapable of making good decisions. There were choices made. There were points as they slid down the slope that ended with them tangled together, points at which either one of them could have taken it in a different direction, laughed it off, or just acted like it wasn't happening.
Afterwards, Sam was torn in two directions. Part of him was riven by guilt. Part of him recalled, in exquisite detail, that moment when his cock pressed into her, when she sighed into his ear, when her small moan escaped her lips and caressed his ears. So, it wasn't unusual that he would lay awake at night, tossing and turning with guilt, while his cock hardened from from the memory.
Sam wouldn't say he was obsessed with it. No, that would be a lie. It was more like he had this memory that was fully intact, complete, arousing, erotic, that lived in him. Sometimes he didn't even think about it. Other times, he would reach out and touch the memory and all of his senses would snap back to that day. The sound of her breathing, first soft, then faster and harder until she was heaving with each deep breath. The way her moan started so small and rose to a crescendo. The way her skin felt under his hands and against his body, smooth and soft and warm, and then increasing in heat as the slickness of perspiration covered them both. Her kisses, so tender only to become so hungry. The scent of her, rising to fill the entire room with the raw and powerful odor of sex.
It was like a door to him, usually closed, but then every now and then something would open it just a crack and he would be drawn through into the pleasures of that night, remembered. In his mind he lined it out, one incident after another, how they tied together, how they led to the next incident, and how each incident took them closer and closer to a threshold neither of them could uncross. A threshold smeared with cum and scented with lust.
Sam never considered sleeping with his sister. She was his sister, older than him by five years. They were the product of divorce, custody split among the parents. She went with his mother, he stayed with his father. They both had ordinary lives, off to college and starting their careers. They saw each other on major holidays and sometimes for vacation. They each grew up in their own world, with incidental intersection points. They knew each other. They liked each other. They even loved each other, as best they could, growing up like they did.
The first set of ifs was entirely external to both. His father rented a house at Lake Tahoe for the ski season. He extended an invitation to the whole family to take advantage of it, to come out to the house, to enjoy some skiing, to enjoy the winter weather. It was Sam's sister who thought it was a good idea to have one weekend where they were all there together, between Thanksgiving and Christmas, the whole extended family.
Sam made that decision. He looked at his calendar, consulted with his girlfriend, and then booked the days off at work. A few days before the weekend. A few days after the weekend. The plan was he'd come in on a Wednesday evening, flying to Reno and driving up to Lake Tahoe, and he'd stay through Tuesday, before flying out again on a Wednesday. His girlfriend would skip the trip. She had plans for Thanksgiving with her family, and then a quiet Christmas vacation with just the two of them down to San Diego. She was comfortable with him spending the week skiing and enjoying his extended family.
So, the trip was booked, time flew by, and then Sam was on his way. The short flight from LA to Reno. A rental SUV for a beautiful drive up to Lake Tahoe. The house was both larger and nicer than Sam expected. Perched on a mountainside, alpine style architecture, four bedrooms, three baths, a loft, a great room and a deck, all with a beautiful view of the lake and the Sierra's surrounding it, a horizon dominated by Mt. Rose, glowing at sunset.
As is often the case when vacationing in the Sierras in winter the weather was an active partner. This time, it was not cooperating, it had other plans. Those plans took the shape of a Pacific storm front, charging across California and slamming into the Sierras. The rest of the family was planning to come in on Friday, but by midday Thursday they started to cancel plans, one after another. The forecast was for heavy snowfall and road closures through the weekend. There was nothing to be done.
Sam made a run to a local market to stock up on perishables, then a swing by the local liquor store to get a twelve pack of beer and a couple of bottles of wine. He also picked up some magazines, a book of crossword puzzles, and assorted candy bars. When he made it back to the house, just as the first flakes of snow started to fall, he found and read the winter storm instructions in a binder in a kitchen drawer.
The house had a generator, which would last for two days, and a cord of firewood stacked just outside the back door for the two fireplaces, one in the master bedroom and the other in the great room. The general instructions were to sit tight until the storm was over and then give them one or two days to plow the roads open. The company that managed the house had several snow mobiles, a snow cat, and a snow blower. Once the storm was over, they'd start clearing the roads.
The town would be responsible for opening the other roads, one at a time, based on priority. During the storm they would try and keep the emergency routes open, but that was dependent on how much snow fell. Usually, it was two or three days before the roads to the highway were open and passable. Emergency services had their own snow cats and snow mobiles, but visitors should anticipate delays.
Sam made a simple pasta alfredo for dinner, cracked a bottle of wine, and settled into the great room to watch movies. He could see the snow falling, wet and heavy, through the two-story tall windows. He quietly watched it accumulate on the deck inch by inch. There were worst places to be in a Sierra snowstorm. Sam was just settling in for a quiet evening and a nice long run of days when he heard an engine coming steadily up the hill.
He walked to the window and looked out. A lonely pair of headlights were making their way up the road. A blue pick-up truck pulled under the streetlight and the headlights turned off. Sam ran through all the calls and texts he'd received canceling vacation plans and realized the only person he hadn't heard from was his sister. Sure enough, a moment later, a figure bundled in a long down jacket slipped out of the driver's side of the truck, then walked around to the passenger side door. She reappeared carrying a small duffle bag and an Eagle Pass carry-on. Judging from the height and the strands of curly brown hair that peeked out of the hood, there was only one person it could be.
He opened the door and held it for her as she carefully crossed the driveway and came up the small porch. He reached out and took the duffle from her, then held the door open. She came in and stomped her boots to clear the snow. He reached over and brushed the snow from her shoulders, then stepped back as she set the carry on down and shrugged out of her coat, shaking the snow from it.
Kelsey hugged him fiercely, kissed him on the cheek.
"I knew you were coming up early, so I caught an earlier flight, I thought we'd get a nice day to catch up before the rest of the family got here."
"Well, you beat everyone else. You made it just in time to get snowed in with me."
"No kidding! I knew I was racing the storm, so I rented the pick-up truck. Traffic on the highway is slowing to a crawl. I had just made it past the chain control station when I heard on the radio that they were getting ready to close the highway in the foothills east of Sacramento. It was a bit of a white-knuckle drive over the mountains, but I'm ahead of the worst of it."
"You're just in time for dinner. Fortunately, I made enough for the both of us."
"Which bedroom did you take?"
"None of them. I figured that I would just camp out in the great room, the couch is one of those modular things that you can push into a bed."
"Great. I'll put my stuff in the master bedroom. I think we're it for the family ski vacation."
"Sure, I'll help." Sam picked up the carry on, adding it to the duffle bag he already held, and then gestured for her to lead the way. The master bedroom was just down the hallway, off to the left. Sam followed Kelsey in and placed her bags on the ottoman at the foot of the California King bed with it's intricately carved canopy.
"Let me run through the shower and I'll join you for dinner in about twenty minutes."
Sam headed back into the kitchen to place the pasta into the oven to keep warm. A few minutes later he heard the shower come on in the master bath. He pulled out another place setting and set Kelsey up on the coffee table in the great room. The first real gust of the storm kicked up a swirl of snow visible through the windows.
When Kelsey came out of the shower, she was wearing sneakers, blue jeans, and a heavy long-sleeved gray t-shirt with a college logo, running a brush through her curly brown hair.
"Wait!" She exclaimed, "My brother can cook? That smells great. I was afraid we were going to be stuck eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for a week."
Sam smiled. "That is what happens when you're trying to impress your girlfriend, you accidentally learn how to cook and unintentionally impress your sister."
"I was actually worried your girlfriend made it after all and I was going to spend the whole storm feeling like a third wheel while the two of you were all lovey-dovey."
"No, not this trip. I thought you were bringing your boyfriend?"
"He was planning on coming in tomorrow, but that is off the books now. We're stuck with each other for the duration."
Sam and Kelsey settled in for dinner and a glass of wine, making small talk, watching the snow pile up on the deck. After dinner, Sam apologized for not making dessert, but brought out of the chocolate bars he'd picked up and split it in two. They poured another glass of wine and settled in on the couch to catch up.
It was there, as Kelsey sat, drinking the glass of wine, and nibbling on chocolate, Sam had his first moment of attraction. It was short, low-key, and simple. He noticed that his sister had developed into a beautiful woman sometime in the last couple of years. In one moment, she stretched her legs out, leaned back on the couch, her body long and graceful, a delightful array of curves. He saw her, in that moment, as a woman, not as his sister. His mind's eye flashed on what she would look like, sitting there next to him, comfortablynaked.
