The concert was fantastic.
By the third song, we had regained much of our energy and, I thought, recovered to where we should have been for the whole day. I kept stealing peeks at her, watching her mouth. The way she pulled her dark hair from her face. Thinking of how we had actually kissed.
Her shoulders were so small. It was the first time I realized how small she was, delicate. She had always been this larger than life person to me. Invulnerable.
I had never made her cry.
It was weird. She had a beautiful mouth. It felt so good. I chalked it up to my stirred up state, the absence of my girlfriend, and all the anxiety I was feeling, and the fight.
She didn't turn toward me, but was just watching the concert, swaying with the music, closing her eyes, and pulling at her hair - twirling the ends in her fingers.
The way she does.
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When we got home it was not really that late, something like 11:00, and even though the day was exhausting I really was not tired anymore.
As we walked up the stairs, my sense was that the same was true for Rachel and so when we got up to the top of the steps, I asked if she wanted to maybe watch a movie.
Rachel smiled at the suggestion.
I added, "A peace offering."
"Yeah. That's a good idea, I'm not tired." She touched her dress, and looking down at herself said, "Let me get out of this," and stepped away and through the open door to her room.
"I'll change too. My pajamas still in here?"
"Nothing in your room, or mom and dads room, has changed - yet. Everything the same."
When we came back down, I was in a silly looking pair of long sleeved blue pajamas. She was in this red nightgown that clung to her shoulders, and fell lightly around her to about mid thigh.
We picked out a movie and settled in next to each other on the sofa. I went and found some beers. As I stepped out of the kitchen, she looked at the cans and asked, "I have some wine in the dining room. Would that be ok? I feel like some wine. You, can have beer."
I turned, trying to be as pleasant as I could. "Ok. I'll check." I went back to the dining room and grabbed a bottle, put the beers away and brought down two wine glasses. Poured hers and mine.
As I poured, she gave me an approving smile. Normally I would have been all huffy, handed her the bottle and drank from my can.
I thought about that. Is that how I am?
As the movie was playing we bantered back and forth about what we had been doing, about her work, school, about a scene as it flickered across the screen here and there.
I asked when mom and dad were coming home, and she said not until Monday - so two days. She had this grin as we talked, leaning back into the sofa, relaxing into the cushions, and turning her head to me as we were talking, holding her wine in both hands.
Her expression was not matching our conversation at all.
At some point I was piqued by her, this look like she had, of something in her mind that she was hiding.
"What is it?"
"Hmmm." Her eyes turned to me.
"You keep having this grin, like there is some sort of joke I don't know about."
"No. I keep . . . Nothing," but then the grin again.
"What?"
"WE kissed!"
I reach for my glass of wine, thinking back, "Yeah, we did."
"Well, it's just that, that was kind of . . . weird."
"It sort of, happened."
"I know. You, kissed me first though."
"Did I?" I couldn't remember. I paused, could feel my heartbeat race a little, could feel how close she was just then. "I guess I did. But you kissed me second." I couldn't think of anything else to say.
She leaned back into the sofa, facing me, "Weird. WE kissed."
"Not something I'd say to anybody."
"No." And then reaching for the bottle, refilled her wine glass. We were both falling silent again, sitting side by side and facing the movie.
Without turning Rachel added, "You're a pretty good kisser."
It is a funny thing with me. When she said that, a feeling of pride rose in me. "Yeah? Thanks." I kept watching the show, just a sideways glance at her. A compliment, from my sister, I thought. Of all the compliments I might have been fishing for from my family, THAT one was wholly unexpected.
She brought the wine to her lips and drank. I reached for my glass and did the same, adding, "I been practicing."
"Oh really? Something I don't know about?"
I was very conflicted now. Diane and I had gone out for two weeks, not really a girlfriend. But WAS. I fully intended to talk about her, but not like this. Not now. It somehow became complicated.
"Well - us, you know, I'm in college now, meeting women."
"Ohhh," Deflected.
We were sitting shoulder to shoulder now, and I could feel each time she would turn to look at me, feel her hair brush on my ear. Holding her hair back with the flat of her hand as she looked at me, the way she does.
I looked at her again, "What?"
"Mmmm. I don't know. I'd, I'd let you kiss me again."
I was looking her right in the eyes as she said that, and watched as she sort of relaxed back against the cushions. I was speechless, didn't know how to read this. Was she joking?
"Yeah. Right." Was all I could think to say.
"If you wanted. I mean, just tonight, like before."
"All right."
We set our wine glasses down, and I leaned in toward her as she turned to me, expectant. She did not move away as I moved toward her, except to move her mouth toward mine, looking me in the eyes.
"Close your eyes."
"Hmmm," that grin again. "I kiss with my eyes open."
I began to brush her hair back, letting it fall over the back of the sofa. She has wonderful almond eyes, hazel, with these dark eyebrows and lashes that bring out the whites.
I paused right at her mouth, her eyes locked on mine.
"Ok." And she closed her eyes. I could see her mouth relax, her lips part, waiting.
And ever so lightly, like a bee on a flower I touched my lips to hers. We just touched our lips together, when I began to nuzzle in and, like before, took her lower lip between my lips and softly so softly we kissed, I sort of nibbled and chewed on her lower lip. She held her mouth open, held her lower lip out for me, tipping her chin back.
And we kissed.
She backed away, and lifting herself a little she looked at me.
"That's what it is. That's what I like."
She took my hand again and leaning to me, began to kiss and chew MY lower lip. This delicious little moan, "Mmmmm. That's nice."
I turned myself to her and opening my mouth began to run my tongue over her upper lip, and over the ridge of her teeth, could feel her begin to breath harder, pressing her mouth to me. I felt her lean back into the sofa cushion and I followed her back.
She ran her hand over the top of my head, tussling, playing with my hair as we kissed. The warmth between us rising, leaning as we did onto the sofa, sinking lower until we were laying there side by side facing each other.
We stopped, and quietly lay like that, looking at the other. Her eyes were moving over my face. She was looking at my hair, my eyes, my nose, my lips. I was looking at her the same way. My hand lay at her waist. We lay like that looking at each other.
"This ok?" I asked.
"S'nice." She took her hand away and pushed herself back into the cushions, away from me. I saw her tugging her nightgown down around her legs, and I noticed how it had ridden up her thighs; and honestly, I didn't even begin thinking about doing anything besides kissing. But as she did that and I noticed how her nightgown had ridden up, saw her bare thighs, the way the fabric fell around her waist, and the way her breasts pressed against the fabric. The outline of her nipples. I felt myself getting more aroused.
Suddenly, I was hard and I needed to adjust. Which, frankly is quite embarrassing when the person who has aroused you is your sister. I tried to discretely adjust myself, but she saw.
She basically looked down at my crotch as I tugged on myself.
"Sorry," she said as she noticed me looking at her.
"It's alright." I finished adjusting myself, the line of my cock ran up the front of my bottoms.
"I guess kissing will have that effect, no matter who you kiss."
I was red with embarrassment.
She brought pressed herself upright. I did the same and we both moved ourselves back to a sitting position on the sofa.
"We are being sooooo stupid," this playful voice that I had never heard from her before. She leaned back toward me and gave me one more slow lingering kiss as I sat next to her before standing up, twirling once, letting her red nightgown sort of spin out from her body. She looked at her empty bottle of wine, our empty glasses and then at me. She looked over at the movie, which was now a blue screen and had been for how long?
As she walked away from, without turning, said, "Thanks for a really fun evening." And pausing at the stairs, "If you tell anyone I'll have to kill you, nite sweet."
I simply called out after her, "Nite."
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Here's another really weird element of the whole story. The whole time we grew up was in this house. Our rooms are on the second floor and we always during that time shared a bathroom. One side went into her room, and one into mine. She only owns the house now because our parents moved into assisted living. She wanted to move back in, and they sold her the house.
Anyway, even though it is her house, nothing in it has really changed. My room is still mine, hers still hers. We keep our parents room exactly as it was, and their private bathroom. They like to come over once in a while, and it is nice. It makes their transition not so final.
