From the author: The incest/taboo categorization for this chapter is due to a brother/sister relationship. If this is offensive to you, please do not read it. If you do like it, please give me a good rating and leave me a note. I love to hear from my fans!
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"Joe, can I trust you to look out for your sister?" my dad asked.
"Of course," I replied as I leaned back a bit on the nicely-cushioned couch in my parents' spacious living room.
"Good," he said, mirroring me by leaning back on the other section of the couch. "Because, she's eighteen now and she's been pretty tough to handle for the last few years. She doesn't confide in me anymore but she talks to you, doesn't she?"
I nodded. Being four years older, I had moved away when she was fourteen, but she texted me every day, and I came back to visit every few weeks, so we stayed very close. I knew things about her life that my dad didn't really want to know.
He smiled in relief at that. He was obviously really worried about her.
I asked, "She's been less confrontational just in the last month since she graduated, don't you think?"
"I suppose so," he nodded. "Still, it could just be a summer thing."
My dad, Jamie, was a big man, six-four and two-forty. At forty-eight years old he was about twenty pounds overweight but still quite an imposing presence. To think that he was having such an issue with little Allyson, who was all of five-three and one-ten soaking wet, almost made me chuckle.
"So, how's the new job? It's been two weeks, right?" he asked me, changing the subject.
"Yes, sir, that's right. Yesterday, Friday, was two weeks. It's good. It's work," I replied.
"Still laying asphalt down Highway 112?"
I nodded. "I mostly direct traffic through the construction, holding up a sign and all, but sometimes they rotate me in with a shovel. I haven't driven any of the big trucks yet."
"Well, you're welcome to stay with us as long as you need to," he said. "I'm not saying that just because I want you to watch out for Allyson. Our door is always open, Son. Stay and save up your money."
I smiled at that. My dad was a big softie. I had tried to make it on my own in Houston four years prior, but, after three and a half years, the jobs dried up and I had to move back home. Though I was twenty-two and living at home I didn't feel like a failure. My parents simply loved me and supported me. I knew I'd be back on my feet soon. There were many people out of work of late. I had been lucky to find the construction job.
Dad pulled the baseball game up on the big screen and we sat around for a while, relaxing after having mowed the lawn earlier. The lawn was about an acre but the two of us took only an hour to get it all done, including edging and hedge trimming.
After about an hour into the baseball game, Mom and Allyson came home from grocery shopping. We heard the truck pull up and stop.
Dad paused the game and we both got up to go lug the groceries in. Instead of heading out the front door in the living room, I led the way through the big kitchen and out the back door. The trailer my parents lived in was the biggest that money could buy. It had five bedrooms and three bathrooms, with a huge living room, dining room, and kitchen. They also had built a huge deck onto the back. We ventured out onto the desk and down the stairs toward the truck.
Out of the truck, and breezing past me with two small bags in her left hand, strode my little sister Allyson. She wore her white tennis shoes, blue jeans, and an old white tee-shirt which read 'What part of Go Away don't you understand?' Though she was very slim, the shirt was still a little small for her as it was stretched tightly over her small bra-clad tits.
"Have fun?" I asked.
She shook her head with an exasperated expression on her cute little face. Her short black hair was a bit askew and her blue eyes weary as she complained, "We were in there for two whole hours." She didn't stop to chat, heading into the house.
Next I passed my mom, Sharron, as she told me, "Don't forget the drinks in the back." Then, to Dad, she said "Remind me to never shop Wal-Mart at noon on a Saturday."
Despite being harried and toting several heavy bags, my mom was as beautiful as ever. Though she was the same age as Dad, she didn't look it. She was five-ten and slim, with huge breasts that stretched any shirt she wore. In this case she wore jeans and a pink blouse with a neckline that can only be described as plunging because of her big tits. He skin was clear and pale, and, like Allyson, her hair was short and black.
Dad grabbed the rest of the groceries while I lugged the drinks out of the back of the truck. They were heavy but I was able to make it in one trip. Though not as big as Dad, I'm six-two and one-eighty with enough muscle to handle the case of water and four 12-packs of drinks. Working construction kept me in shape, but during my five months of unemployment I had done odd jobs around the house to keep fit.
After lugging the drinks and groceries into the kitchen, Dad and I returned to the living room to find Allyson in Dad's seat, remote in hand, flipping through the channels.
I sat on the couch as Dad shooed Allyson from his seat. "Oh come on, I had the game paused," he complained.
"It's on the other tuner, I didn't mess up your game," Allyson replied indignantly as she got up and let Dad sit down.
Once he flipped it back to the other tuner and breathed a sigh of relief, he said, "There it is. Good."
"See?" she taunted as she turned and looked at me. She flashed me a smile and then sat on my lap, her right arm over my shoulder and her legs stretched out on the rest of the couch to my right.
I outweighed Allyson by over seventy-pounds and was ten inches taller than her, so having her sit on my lap was a normal thing for us. We had always been close. Our whole family was physically affectionate and quite close, but I was especially close to my little sister. Besides, it helped us look each other in the eyes when we needed to talk. Still, being her big brother I had to tease her. I complained, "Geez, Sis, you might want to lay off the deserts for a while."
"Joe Peeler, are you calling me fat? Because I think you're just all tired out from getting the groceries. Look at how sweaty and gross you are? But, did I say anything about that? No," she said.
"I'm not tired. It's July in Louisiana, and I got hot outside," I protested. "I think you're just putting on a few pounds."
Allyson leaned back a bit, lifted up the bottom of her tee-shirt, and said, "Look at that. Not an ounce of fat!"
