"Pregnant Lactating Sister Bang"
by J.D. Savanyu
I drove all the way from Richmond to my sister's house in Tampa, in a record heat wave. Playing some smooth jazz and trying to forget all those whiny stories by VCU writing majors. Carrie greets me on her front porch with a big smile, wearing a loose fitting white romper dress. She's a twenty-something natural redhead, eight months pregnant with big milk-swollen boobies, but still pretty as hell.
"Hey, Jakey! I've missed you
sooo
much!" she beams, kissing me square on the lips. "Come on in, sweetie. Ya gotta see the
baay
-bee!" she croons, imitating that annoying lady on Seinfeld.
She leads me through a small living room and kitchen with all kinds of shit strewn about haphazardly. Just what you'd expect from a single mother. We go quietly upstairs to a small guest bedroom with a crib in the corner, containing Lucy Sky Harrison. The radiant eleven month-old baby dozes peacefully under a pink blanket, with the soothing sound of river rapids playing on nearby speakers.
"Isn't little Sky-Sky just
adorable?"
Carrie whispers.
"Like mother, like daughter."
"Aw, you're too kind," she giggles while hugging me and stroking my biceps. Carrie was always madly in love with me, and vice-versa, even when we were little kids. One of my earliest memories is having a "pretend wedding" with my sister in the backyard of our parents' house in Saint Petersburg. Our highly affectionate bond stayed strong all the way through high school. Many other teenagers wondered if we were commiting incest. We were never
that
affectionate, but our relationship definitely wasn't "normal."
"I downloaded a ten-hour river sound from YouTube," Carrie says. "It makes Lucy sleep like a log, and drowns out other noises to keep her asleep."
"That's the only thing YouTube is good for," I remark.
"Come on, bro, it's hot as hell today. Let's have a cold drink."
She leads me back downstairs, clears the crap off her sofa, and cracks open a cold bottle of cheap red wine.
"Here you go, Jakey. I'm all preggers, so you're drinking for two," she beams while handing me a glass full of fermented grape juice. Her awkward child-laden body plops down on the sofa, and she takes a sip from her own glass of nonalcoholic pink lemonade. Her coffee table is covered with People magazines and breast milk pumps.
"Thanks, sis, I really need this drink after a long hard semester. Being an MFA writing professor gives me a steady paycheck, but too many headaches."
"The whole literary industry is going down the toilet. I'm so glad I went to law school instead."
Carrie sighs pleasantly, tosses her shiny ginger bangs, and strokes her hot sweaty legs below her white dress. I can't help staring at them, and she notices my gaze with a sweet giggle. I take a bigger sip of wine.
"Damn, I'm sweating up a storm," she groans. "Do you mind if I take off my dress?"
Holy shit. "Uhh... no, I don't mind. Whatever makes you comfortable."
She gets up and lifts that loose white romper right over her head, revealing a white bra over her big swollen breasts, and white "granny panties" beneath her bulging belly. She's still a perfect ten, even in the third trimester. My dick starts getting hard, and I try real hard to stop it.
"Why don't you take off that stuffy professor suit?"
"Uh... well...
wow,
" I stammer incredulously.
"Come on, it's nothing I haven't seen before on those Florida beaches."
"You're right. We had a lot of fun back then, wrestling in the waves."
"I always won those wrestling matches," she boasts proudly. I get up and strip reluctantly down to my boxer shorts, savoring a light tropical breeze on my bare flesh through an open window with a great view of palm trees in her backyard
"My
my,"
Carrie murmurs in admiration. "I haven't seen those big muscles before!"
"Yeah, I've been hitting the weight machines at the VCU gym. It's the best form of anger management."
"You're becoming a big strong He-Man, just like my old boyfriend."
"Say, why did you break up with Charlie?"
"I didn't. He just walked out the door, right after I told him I was pregnant with his second child."
"Fucking deadbeat asshole," I mutter. The alcohol is starting to kick in, unleashing my true savagely sarcastic personality.
"My sentiments exactly." She scoots closer, and rests her head on my left shoulder. "Life is a lot harder without him, and I'm so lonely."
"Me too. There's nothing going on in the romance department up in Richmond."
"Aw, poor baby. No gothy lit chicks are hitting on Professor Harrison," she says playfully.
"They
are
hitting on me, but I don't feel like hitting back anymore. I'm tired of fast women and stupid fantasies. I need a real, dependable lover. Someone who's still there for me after the fun stops."
"Someone like
me,
darling," she says sweetly, and plants another kiss on my lips.
"But you're my sister. You have to love me, so that doesn't count."
"Oh
yes
it does."
She giggles again, then she straddles my lap and drapes her arms loosely around my neck, with her big baby belly pressing against my washboard six-pack. Whoa!
"What are you doing, Carrie?"
"Getting frisky. I want to take our relationship to the next level, baby."
Oh my god, oh my god. "But you're my...
sister!"
"I'm also your biggest fantasy. I've been reading all those sex stories you've been posting on Literotica. They're so hot, and all those slutty redheads are obviously based on me."
