How It Is With Lindy

Kyle

For the first twelve years of my life I was an only child. I asked my parents once when I was about eight years old why I didn't have any brothers or sisters, and they said daddy had gotten really sick once, and the doctors told him he could not have any more children. Apparently, the doctors were wrong because about four years later my sister Lindy, short for Lindsey, arrived.

Of course, after that life changed for me. Up until then I'd been privileged to have all my parent's attention and love. I never had to share that, but now I had to share it with a mewling baby who did nothing but eat and shit. I think my parents thought I would have some sort of magical bond with Lindy, because I was her older brother, but the little she-beast got on my last nerve. I hated being around her. This didn't change as she got older either. By the time she was five, I was seventeen, so I had no interest in playing teatime or dolls. Aside from normal, everyday life, the only time I had to deal with my sister was when my parents asked me to babysit, and then it was pretty much me having girls in my bedroom while my little sister watched TV in the living room.

I lived with my parents for a couple of years after graduating high school. We weren't rich, so I attended community college and paid my way through school. I transferred to a local university after my sophomore year, and I took out student loans to fund the rest. After graduation, I bounced around jobs for a while until I found my niche working for a small firm that specialized in exporting and importing. It was a great job, and it gave me a chance to travel. I got to see the world.

At 23 years of age, I got married to a girl named Carrie. I met her while she was working at Hooters. We divorced two years later; though thankfully no kids. We just went our separate ways. The only thing we had to divide was the apartment furniture, and that was pretty easy since we barely had any.

Feeling restless, I accepted a position in Italy and worked abroad for a few years. I met a really good friend while there who wanted a partner for a joint import/export firm back in the states. I had nothing to lose, so I went for it and it was the best decision of my life. We became very successful—not overnight, but after a few years the company was making very good money. The money allowed me the ability to take care of my parents, and by extension my sister, who at this stage of the game was 18 years old. I agreed to pay Lindy's college tuition to whatever school she wished, as long as she stayed out of trouble and got good grades. I also recently bought her a car. I did this because I wanted to help my parents, but unfortunately I only ended up making things worse for them.

Lindy had been a genuine surprise, and came when my mother and father were 42 and 46, respectively. By the time she was 18, and a senior in high school, they no longer had the energy to keep up with her. They actually stopped having the energy when she was about 12, but they tried hard for many years until they just couldn't keep up any longer. I bought my sister a car so my parents wouldn't have to cart her around, thinking this would be of a benefit to them, but buying my sister a car didn't help matters at all, and the consequence was Lindy begin to stay out past her curfew. It'd been happening more and more of late, and my parents were understandably concerned, but unable to do anything about it. Lindy was 18, but still in high school. There were the inevitable battles over her maturity, and those battles usually devolved into screaming matches that made my parents miserable.

My mother must have called me around midnight one night. I was asleep after making love to my beautiful red head girlfriend, Jess, so it took a few moments for me to answer.

"Hullo."

"Kyle, I'm sorry to wake you, but Lindy has snuck out the house again. We think she's gone to see that boyfriend of hers. Can you please go and find her?"

I wearily got out of bed, making my way to the kitchen for a glass of water, talking to my mom the whole way there. "I'm not Inspector Gadget, Mom. How am I supposed to find her?"

"We were hoping you could ask Jess to call her brother. Isn't he a policeman or something? Maybe he can help."

"He's a fireman, Mom."

My mother sighed, and I felt bad because I knew I wasn't being helpful.

"Well, can't he call someone? I'm just so worried about her, Kyle. I know she says she's grown because she's eighteen, but she's still a kid. And your father and I we're...worried because we weren't strict on her when she was younger and now she's just...

wild.

Can you please find some time to talk to her? Maybe she might listen to you. She's always looked up to you. Please Kyle."

I really didn't know what to say to my mom, or for that matter to my sister Lindy, partly because when I was my sister's age I'm sure I did a lot of things worse than she was doing now. I couldn't tell my mother that though. I'm sure that's not what she wanted to hear; so, I told her what she wanted to hear instead. "Okay. I can swing by tomorrow after work. Will she be home?"

"Yes, she has...I think...volleyball practice after school on Thursdays. Hold on let me check the calendar." I hear some noise in the background, and I imagine my mother walking through the ranch-style, track home I remember so well from childhood. "Yes, she has practice, and she usually comes right home afterward to take a shower and do homework. Tomorrow will be perfect. I'll tell her—"

"No, I'll tell her," I say, interrupting my mother. "I'm going to call her now. Maybe I can find out where she is."

Again I heard another sigh from my mother. "Oh thank you, son. I've been calling her cell all night, but she won't answer. I know she'll answer your call though. Tomorrow, your father and I are going to go to the community center to play bingo. That way you can talk to her by yourself. Lindy seems to get...very defensive when your father or I are around."

Strangely, though I knew there was tension between my parents and Lindsey, in my view she really didn't seem like anything more than a normal 18-year old.

Wild?

Not that I had ever noticed, but I didn't spend a whole lot of time with my parents or my sister. I was thirty years old, and I owned a home and a business about an hour and half away, so my contact was limited to say the least, but from what I recalled the last time I'd seen my sister, she hadn't struck me as a wild. Yeah, she snuck out and was late for curfew, but what 18-year old high-schooler didn't do those things? I thought my mom was making a mountain out of a molehill, but I wasn't going to tell her that.

"I'll do my best, Mom, but try not worry yourself so much. I think Lindy is fine. She's just growing up."

"I know, son. I-I just worry is all. Your and father and I were too lax, I think, and now she...she's grown up so fast. I don't even know how to talk to her anymore."

I doubted my mother ever really knew how to talk to Lindsey, but that was beside the point, and not germane to the conversation. "Don't worry. I'll talk to her."

My mom thanked me profusely, and invited me and Jess to dinner in a couple of weeks. I told her I would need to ask Jess, but I would call her back and let her know. When I finally hung up with mom, I took a moment to finish my glass of water, and then reached for my phone again to call Lindy. I figured it wouldn't hurt to talk to her, let her know how mom and dad felt. I could play good cop to their bad cop. Explain to her she only had a few months left of high school. Surely, she could be convinced to hold off on the hell-raising, and save their parent's the mutual heart attack till then.

"Trouble?"

I turn toward Jess, she looks beautiful and scrumptious standing in the kitchen doorway, dressed in one of my old college T-shirts. Her long legs are on prominent display.

"I'm not really sure yet. We'll see," I reply, listening to the ringing in my ear while running my gaze up and down her limbs.

I had been dating Jess, shortened from Jessica, for almost a year. She was the most uncomplicated girlfriend I had ever had. She never really complained and was a great cook. I didn't have a burning passion for her, but she was...

comfortable,

and I liked the routine she brought into my life. Even now Jess didn't pry for further details. She just walks into the kitchen, kisses me on the lips, grabs a glass, pours herself some juice, and turns to leave. "I'll be waiting," she tosses over shoulder, obviously heading back to the bedroom.

Definitely uncomplicated,

I think, admiring the swish of her ass as she disappears around the corner. I'm somewhat tempted to follow, but just then there is sudden click in my ear, and my thoughts are pulled from Jess's soft round buttocks.

"Lindsey Talbot's phone, keg-goddess extraordinaire."

I blink for a second because the male voice that answers Lindy's phone sounds nothing like her.

Keg-goddess?

"Put Lindsey on now," I say, using short clipped words.

"Who are you asshole?"

"Her brother. Her big brother," I reply through gritted teeth, not about to let some punk kid talk to me any way he feels...especially not on a phone I pay the bill for. "So, put Lindsey on now before I come down to where ever you are and kick the shit out of you."

I was happy to hear the moment of silence that followed, then there was a slight shuffling noise before Lindsey's came on the line.

"Kyle? Uh...hi? How are you?"

"The better question, Lindy, is

where are you

? Mom and dad are worried sick. You know that right, since they've been calling you all night."

"Oh don't you start with me. I'm at Michelle's house."

"Have you been drinking?"

"I had one beer. Get over it. It's not like you didn't drink when you were high school. And, I told Mom and Dad I was going to a party last week. They forgot. It's no big deal."

I laugh harshly and pinch the bridge of my noise, striving for calm. "Please don't try that shit with me, Lindy. I created it, and I'll do you one better. You have thirty minutes to get your ass home, or I'm going to call the cops and tell them my car is stolen."

"What? You can't do that. It's my car. I didn't steal it."

"It's

my

car while my name is still on the title, and if you're not home in thirty minutes then in my mind that means it's stolen. Got it?"

Though I was supposed to be the good cop, after that punk answered Lindy's phone I was furious with her. Yes, it was hypocritical. I certainly shared a keg or two or three in high school, and I had some asshole friends back then too, but it was different. This was different. This was our elderly parents, and Lindy needed to be more respectful.

The silence on the phone continued to stretch, and I knew Lindy was fuming on the other end, but I'm pissed, so I don't plan on backing down.

"Fine. Alright. I'll go home," she finally says, then the line goes dead.

Shaking my head, I lean against the counter and take a deep breath, then it occurs to me. "Shit, I forgot to tell her I was coming by tomorrow."

********

Lindsey

I was so angry with my brother, Kyle, I wanted to throw my cell phone against the wall, but I knew that would be stupid since I'd have to ask him to buy me another one.

"I have to go," I say, rising from the couch. Rick, my semi-boyfriend, grabs my arm, making a protesting noise, obviously hoping to keep me there so he could continue to cop feels of my breasts. "Seriously, I have to go. My brother's going to call the cops on me if I don't."

"What?" Rick exclaims. "He

is

an asshole. Crazy muthafucka think he can kick my ass. You know I know karate, right babe? You betta let your big bro know what's up. I don't want to have hurt him."

I want to laugh at Rick. The closest he comes to knowing karate is watching Donnie Yen flicks and thinking that

is

karate. He was such a juvenile. If he even approached Kyle, my brother would wipe the floor with him. Kyle probably outweighed Rick by at least 30 pounds, most of which I was sure was nice, firm muscle mass. My brother was also taller than my pseudo-boyfriend by at least three inches, and he had twelve years on him in experience and knowledge. There wouldn't even be a contest.

Kyle...my big brother. My heart stutters as his image comes to my mind. Tall, dark, and handsome... He was many things, but I would never call my brother an asshole. I knew the only reason he'd gone off on me, threatening to report my car stolen, was one of my parents—likely my mother—had called him hoping he could track me down.

"He's only giving me shit because of my parents. I have to go, or he will call the police," I say to Rick, bending to pick up my purse from where it had fallen off the couch.

"Shit babe, I was hoping we could use Michelle's parent's room next. Just stay for a little longer." Rick entreats, sidling next to me, and putting his arms around me so his front is aligned with my back.

I sigh, not because I could feel Rick's hard cock pressing up against my ass, but I because I wasn't in the mood for it. Truth was I no longer found Rick attractive, and I was only leading him on because Chris Winters was his best friend and Cindy Mangold was mine. Cindy liked Chris, so per best friend code, I needed to be nice to Chris's best friend, Rick.

"No, I have to go," I say, firmly removing his arms. "I'll text you later, okay?" I finish, trying to placate him because he's giving me the funny look that says he's mad I don't want to fall at his feet and suck his cock like all his other girlfriends have done—like I have done.

Rick sits down with an exaggerated flourish, tossing his arms back against the couch like he's waiting for something. I really want to laugh at him now. He's so transparent with his bullshit.

"Okay, cool. I'll just call someone else to hang out since you don't want to, Linds. No big deal."

"Fine then. I'll see you later," I say, enjoying the stunned look in his eyes.

Before when Rick would pull that shit, I would slink next to him, afraid he'd call some other girl to take my place. Now I couldn't care less who he called. He couldn't make me jealous anymore. I didn't want him.

While I was walking toward my car, I sent a quick text to my friends, Cindy and Michelle, letting them know I was going home. I was glad both of them were occupied with their boyfriends, especially Cindy, so I didn't mention Rick. I was sure Cindy would hear about what happened later, and berate me about it when she could, but I didn't care. I was done with Rick anyway whether she liked it or not.

Once in my car, I put the key in the ignition of my little white, four-door Jetta, and started the vehicle, driving quickly toward the 118W freeway. Though I had told Rick my brother would call the cops, I wasn't actually sure Kyle would do it. Still, I didn't want to test the theory. Michelle's house was about twenty minutes away from my own, and with my foot heavily pressed on the gas, I made it there in less time than that.

When I drove up, the lights of my parent's house were ablaze. Seriously, every light was on, which meant my parents were awake. Ruth and Kevin Talbot were no longer capable of a rousing night life. They went to bed promptly at ten o'clock; yet, it was close to one in the morning and my parents were still awake. I knew this wasn't good.

"Hi honey," my mother says, as soon as I walk through the front door. "Your father and I are glad you made it home safely. We were very worried."

I opted to go through the front, instead of the back side door, because there was no point in trying to sneak in anymore. I was busted, obviously.

"I told you about Michelle's party a couple of weeks ago. You said I could go," I reply, hoping the old standby "you forgot" excuse works. It usually did because my parents could never really remember if I did ask, or not.

"Lindsey, we told you if you have an engagement you need to put it on the fridge calendar. We prefer that calendar, but you also have the option of texting your phone. So there really is no excuse."

I look strangely at my dad until I realize he's talking about me putting my "engagements" in iCalendar, which my brother, Kyle, had conveniently linked to my parent's smart phones to help them control me.

The great thing about that arrangement. My parents don't know how to work their smart phones. "I did send it, Dad. I sent you and mom a text, but I guess you didn't read it."

My mother looks at her cell phone, which is sitting on the nearby coffee table, and a sheepish expression crosses her face. I know right then and there she's not going to check it. She doesn't know how.

"You're home now and it's late. Just go on up to bed," she says.

I frown at my mother. "That's it? That's all you have to say?" I had expected more discussion.

"Yes, dear. If you say you told us then you maybe you did. You spoke to your brother, right? He called you?"

What did Kyle have to do with this? I frown again at my mother. "You told him to call me, right? So yeah I spoke to him."

"I did not tell your brother to call you. He decided to do that. Now, I suggest we all go to bed. I know you say these late nights don't hurt you, but you can't burn the candle at both ends and expect to do well in school."

I roll my eyes, thinking my parents are so old. "Sure mom."

After a quick shower, I lay down in my bed, reminiscing about my day, but within seconds I was fast asleep. When I awoke my alarm was blaring in my ear and I had to get up to get ready for school. As expected, Cindy gave me shit about leaving Rick high and dry. I ignored her and ate lunch by myself, so I didn't have to be bothered.

The rest of the day went by pretty rapidly, and after volleyball practice I headed home. Mom and dad were at Bingo until eight, so I knew I would have the house to myself for a while. After taking a shower, I changed into a night shirt and finished up my homework. Then I went down to the kitchen to make myself something to eat. I thought about watching TV, but when I laid down on the chaise in the living room, I knew I was too restless to do so.

The restless feeling was one I was familiar, and there was a reason I didn't put on a bra or panties.

Spreading my legs, I drop my hand between my thighs, and as soon as my fingers glide over my bare cunt, my pussy aches and blood rushes to my clit. I exhale a harsh breath, waiting for the sensation to pass. When it does the inevitable wetness follows, coating the tips of my fingers. More wetness comes as I began to slide my digits over myself more rapidly, pinching my clit between my index and middle finger.

In my mind, I recalled the image that always comes to me when I masturbate. It was of my brother Kyle, and he was fucking me nice and slow. The mental picture was clear because I had actually seen him having sex more than once. Not with me, of course, but I used to spy on him when I was younger. At the time, I'd been too immature to really understand what I was seeing, but as I grew older those images never left, and when my body began to feel sexual urges, it was always those thoughts that brought me the most pleasure.

I knew it was wrong to think about my brother in this way, but I couldn't help it. The girls I had watched Kyle with always looked like they were dying of pleasure, and my brother certainly looked like he knew what he was doing. One of the things I liked most was to watch him kiss. Kyle really liked to kiss. He wasn't shy about either. He would use his tongue and mouth with expertise. The last time I had spied on him, before he'd moved out and got his own place, he'd been fucking a girl who was sitting on top of him. They were face to face, both of his hand were speared in her hair. Their mouths were glued to each other, and Kyle was licking and thrusting his tongue in her mouth, using only his hips to thrust into that other part of her body. I moaned as recalled the image, and my pussy vibrated underneath my hand as a spasm moved through me.