Book 04 Chapter 01: Mouse Exposed
<8 The Show
Melanie felt the tequila burning her mouth and throat as it went down. She licked her lips to clean off the extra drops she had drunkenly sloshed on her mouth in her haste. She watched, completely absorbed, as her baby sister knelt naked before her brother, devouring his cock like an expensive whore.
Mona slavered it with kisses, racing her tongue along its length. She held it in both hands, pressing it lovingly to her face as she grinned wickedly at Michael. Then she fell on it, instantly taking its entire length and width into her mouth and throat, all the way to the base. She held it there, deep in her throat, for what seemed like minutes, then released it quickly, only to immediately swallow it again.
Melanie jerked the bottle to her lips, taking another mouthful that dribbled this time down her chin. She held that relatively small amount in her own mouth without swallowing, while wondering how Mouse could take that entire cock into hers.
Melanie gulped down the mouthful as Mouse released the cock again. It was so huge, Melanie thought, so thick. Her little brother's cock was everything she had ever imagined, and more. Melanie, unlike Mouse, didn't think of cocks as "beautiful". They weren't something to be worshipped. They were just something that you made grow and ached to have inside you until they'd served their purpose. Then you put them away, or wanted them to be put away, until you needed them again.
But if any cock was ever beautiful, her brother Michael's was. She jealously watched her little sister kiss it's tip and hold it in her hands.
Her brother's cock, Melanie thought. She was lusting after her own brother's cock. She couldn't believe that she was here, watching this obscene spectacle.
<8 Long Talk
Mouse had pulled nervously into the driveway at her sisters house. She was unsure what was in store for her there. It was her third trip home in half a year, which was unquestionably unusual. She'd been in Chicago for half a decade, and in all that time had been home at most twice a year. Now it was suddenly three times in six months.
She had stayed with her despised brother Michael each time, too, and that was creating a stir in the family. She was sure it was okay for now. Everyone, or at least Mom, Dad and her sister's husband Dan, assumed it was just another way she had discovered to annoy him, and that Michael was too kind and compliant to refuse her. Her sister Melanie wanted Mouse to stay here, with her, but Mouse had put her off, for now, so that she and her brother Michael could indulge themselves with utter, wicked abandon.
Melanie worried her, though. This visit worried her especially. Melanie had almost, maybe even had, caught Mona – that was her given name, Mouse being the pet name the whole family had adopted for her – straddling their brother on the couch, kissing him, after the three siblings had all gone out for a few drinks. Since then Mel had been a little too alert to their interactions, paying close attention whenever Michael and Mouse talked, hanging on every word and look and touch. Spying, it seemed.
Melanie guessed something, Mouse knew, and Mouse wasn't entirely sure of herself when it came to hiding their affair. She wanted so much
not
to hide it, to brazenly show her affection in public, that she suspected she might have subconsciously sabotaged things herself.
And now Melanie wanted to talk.
Alone.
Shit.
* * *
It was a sunny late morning. Melanie and Mouse were together in her older sister's bright, immaculately finished kitchen. Melanie's husband was at work, and their three teenage kids were away at college or in class in high school. The two sisters wouldn't be interrupted for a while. They had time for a long talk. Too much time, Mouse thought, with too little chance for escape if things got hot. Melanie had planned it this way, Mouse was sure, but it was too late to back out now.
Melanie sat down at the table. She nodded for Mouse to sit, too.
"No thanks, I'll stand," she said, trying not to sound cold. She wouldn't stand too close, either, she thought. She stayed well out of range.
"I know what's going on with you and Michael," Melanie stated flatly, but with a hint of anger.
Mouse kept her face composed, betraying nothing. Inside she was already a turbulent, panicked windstorm of emotions and thoughts, all banging into each other and keeping any one from taking control. This had happened far more quickly than she had expected, putting her off balance. No testing the waters, no probing for weakness for Melanie. Not even a little small talk to soften her little sister up, first. Just "bam, accusation" from Melanie. That was her style.
"Which is?" Mouse asked.
"You haven't been good at hiding it at all, you know. Anyone with half a brain can see it. Lord help you if Mom and Dad figure it out. Dan did, and he's as thick as they come with things like that. You'd usually have to hand him a script and act it out right in front of him, complete with special effects, for Dan to get it. Typical man."
I'd like to see that script myself, Mouse thought. She still didn't answer, but she wasn't doing well at maintaining her composure at all. She felt the heat rising in her face. She hated,
hated
getting lectures from Big Sister. And a short temper was one of Mouse's trademarks.
"Where's it going, Mona? Where's it going to end? You're messing him up. Michael deserves better. He deserves a chance to get his life together, now that his wife has left him. This is just going to tear him up and make things worse. There's nothing happy at the end of this story."
That really got to Mouse, the thought that Melanie felt she knew more about Michael's happiness than Mouse did, the thought that Melanie believed she cared more about Michael's happiness than Mouse did. It was a blaring, trumpeted implication that somehow Melanie was right, and Mouse was a silly little girl with no concept of what was going on.
Michael was happy now because of her, not in spite of her.
Melanie was close to crossing a line, Mouse thought, and if she did, the Mouse was going to fight back. Melanie had never gone toe-to-toe with Mouse. Their fifteen year age difference meant that they didn't cross paths much. They didn't come into conflict over anything, ever. It was time for Melanie to see how Mouse can fight, Mouse thought to herself.
"You have to stop", Melanie ordered. "You. Must. Stop."
Mouse rolled her eyes. Her older brother and sister both did that, and it drove her crazy. They added emphasis by speaking. In. Halting. Sentences. With. Too. Much. Punctuation.
It was infuriating.
"I can't stop. I don't want to stop," was her artificially subdued reply.
"You have to."
"Don't give me orders. I'm not a little girl," Mouse said. They were quick, sharp, little words, backed by growing fury. She was loosing control, loosing her temper far too quickly, she knew.
"You're a silly, selfish, little girl with no self control. You're being stupid. I want you to stop."
"No." The reply was terse, but the emotion behind it was a black storm that covered the whole horizon, carrying the threat of approaching, deafening thunder, and worse.
"Mona, you are going to stop. This isn't a request. Just back off. Why is this so important to you?"
Pushed too far, with too much dancing around the subject, Mouse snapped.
"I love fucking him!" she shouted. "There, I said it out loud. I. Love. Fucking. Him." The words had tumbled out, one by one, each in turn, mocking Melanie with her own tone. There, bitch, she thought, try it on for yourself.
"You're doing what?" Melanie asked in horror, the words fading at the end as if she were losing the ability to speak.
Mouse's mind raced, automatically replaying the conversation quickly in her head. Melanie had just said "Why is this so important to you?". What did that mean? Why ask that?
Oh, shit, Mouse thought. Shit, shit, shit. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She didn't know. Why did she do that, Mouse asked herself. She didn't know. Why didn't she know? She said she knew.
Her eyes darted around the room, as if looking for a way out.
"Ohmygod," Melanie said, finishing with her mouth frozen in a small "o".
That's a new one for her, Mouse thought. No punctuation at all. Suddenly the anger was gone, Mouse realized. Cold rational thought had returned. Too late. The game had changed.
"You're fucking Michael?" There was a definite tremble in Melanie's voice.
Mouse bit her lower lip, watching Melanie carefully. Her sister's eyes were wide in shock. For a moment Melanie seemed to be holding back tears, then quickly regained her composure. Good, old, solid Melanie, thought Mouse.
"You're fucking our brother?" Melanie repeated. "Our brother? Our? Brother?"
"I thought you knew." Mouse whispered, cowed by the unexpected, lowering her gaze to the floor, avoiding the sight of Melanie's tortured expression. Mouse kept her head down, but raised her eyes to study Melanie's face. The blood had completely drained from it. Now it was quickly refilling with a pool of cold anger.
"How would I know?" she responded with a question. "How the hell would I know? You're fucking him? Since when? More than once?"
Mouse considered lying. It would have been so easy to say "Just once, really, I promise." She could have sold it. They were drunk, she could claim, which was true anyway. She should have tried, at least. But she didn't want to. In her heart, all along, she had wanted someone to know. And maybe the secret would be safe with Melanie.
Maybe.
"Since Mom and Dad's last anniversary. When I stayed overnight with him," she answered partially, dodging the question of "how often".
"Oh, god! And more than once?"
