Andy and Samantha

"I dunno. I just, he started talking to me when I ran into him a few years ago. He recognized me at the store and said hi. He's cleaned up a bit too, but not like you have. He asked if I wanted to get lunch sometime and I said yeah. He seemed nice enough. We went out a few times, then I broke it off. Before I did, he told me about that night. He was a little drunk and we were talking about stuff, and, well, he told me. He wasn't all that happy about, and apologized for shooting my brother, but yeah, he told me. Made me swear not to say anything, but I guess I've blown that." She said, looking guilty.

He sat there in amazement for a moment. Fucking Ricky.

"I'll kill him" He said in a kind of daze.

"No, you'll leave him alone. I think he moved away anyhow." She said evenly

"Why a guy like Ricky anyways?" He asked, jerking around out of thought.

"I guess because he's a you know, a 'bad boy' kind of guy." Her face was now the color of a brick.

"A bad boy? And after all the crap I did, why on earth would you be attracted to a bad boy type?" He asked.

"Well, you were one, and I always looked up to you. I don't have the courage to act or live that way, but it doesn't mean I don't like it. I've always been attracted to a rough guy." She looked him in the eye as she said it, still blushing, but smiling a little.

"I would think I would have served as a horrible warning instead of as a template for attraction." He said, shaking his head.

"Well, just because a guy does bad things, it doesn't mean he's a bad person. I know that. For all the shit you did, you were always nice to me, and you always stood by the people you cared about, whether they were your dorky little sister or your drugged up, maniac buddies. How could I not be attracted to you? To your type?" She stuttered.

"Shit, Sam. I was a waste of space, a piece of shit. How could you find that appealing?"

"Because it was you." She said simply. She gathered up the plate and put them in the sink.

"Girl, you have got to raise your standards." He said, getting up to wash the dishes. When he turned on the water she skipped away towards the stairs.

He finished washing up and grabbed the real estate booklet he had picked up a few days ago. There were a few places that he was looking at, but most seemed out of his price range. He eventually wrote down a few addresses and made a couple calls, deciding to see what the places he could afford would look like. He went to Sam's room and knocked. She opened the door and let him in.

"I'm gonna go check a few places out, see what they look like. Are you gonna be okay till I get back?" He asked.

"I'm not a kid anymore, Andy. Hey, can I come with you? I'd like to see what kind of places you're looking at."

"Sure, why not? Get dressed; we're leaving in about twenty minutes." He left her and went to get into something a little nicer than sweatpants and old t-shirt himself.

He had just gotten his pants on when the door swung open. He turned and saw Sam there, wearing a pair of jeans and a simple blouse. She looked at him a moment, before stepping over to him and tracing her finger along the thick line of scar on his shoulder. The scar was about 5 inches long, and had jagged edges from his clumsy left handed stitches. "Hmm" she said, stepping back, "Are the others like that?"

"Pretty much." He answered, holding his left hand out, turned so the gouge faced her. She looked a moment, frowning. He pulled on a shirt and buttoned it, tucking it in with quick jabs. Soon they were off, rolling into town in his truck. He liked the old pickup. It wasn't flashy or oversized, just a dependable work truck. They talked about music on the way to the first place, Andy swapping CD's through the stereo as they went. He was happy to be able to talk with Sam about music now that it wasn't all fucktarded pop with her. He put in Blue Oyster Cult because she had not heard of them before, and laughed when she turned up the volume for Godzilla. She just grinned and said that Godzilla definitely deserved a song. He let the CD play through. It was one that he had burned from his stack of BOC CD's, and had something like 17 of their songs.

"I thought you didn't like the stuff that wasn't 'kill babies eat Satan' kind of stuff." She said, tapping her feet to the beat.

"Are you kidding? These guys were one of the founding fathers of metal. Another good one of the early stuff is Iron Butterfly. Let's see, who else? Steppenwolf, Saxon, Led Zeppelin of course, Jethro Tull, Boston, Yes, all those guys put down the framework for all kinds of metal. How could I not like them?" She chuckled at that, but had to nod.

"Okay, well how about now. What new bands do you like?"

"Well, I'm not real up to date on the new metal, like I used to be, but I like Mudvayne, a little Slipknot, Devil Driver, Disturbed, System of a Down, stuff like that. Halestorm and Avenged Sevenfold are pretty good, too."

"Yeah, I like those guys too. Not Devil Driver though. I don't know what it is, but I just can't really get into them."

After a while they pulled into the first place. An apartment building just north of the college, not far from the freeway. Not the best neighborhood, but not that bad either. They went to the office and Andy introduced himself. The manger came out soon and shook his hand.

"You two looking for a place then? We have a few openings right now." He smiled, showing crooked teeth.

"Oh, uh, no, she's just kind of riding along. This is my sister." Andy clarified as they walked towards the first building.

"Ah. Sorry. Well, we have a couple of apartments with one bedroom, and a two bedroom, and I think we may have one of the studios open, but I would have to check on that."

The two apartments that he showed them were cramp, musty, in need of paint, and just basically cheap. After they left, they headed to the other apartment complex on his list. It was a little further away, and they talked music more as they went.

The second place only had one open rental, and it looked okay. They walked through it, and the only thing that was not so hot was a crack in the window, but the manager said that his maintenance guy should be fixing that in a couple of days. After a moment, Andy told the man he would need to think about it for a few days, but that he would probably take it. The manager smiled and said no rush.

On their way to the truck, Andy glanced over at Sam. She looked kind of sad. He asked her what was wrong.

"I dunno. It was nice having you at the house again. Felt like old times without all the problems with the drugs and fighting. You know?"

"Yeah. But I can't live at mom and dad's place while I'm trying to get myself started. I can't sleep in dad's office, you know. But I'll be close by, and without all the bullshit selling and no more wild nights with the bottle like I used to, then we should be able to stay in touch better."

"Good. I didn't like it when you were gone." She said as they climbed in.

"You wanna go for some lunch? My treat." He offered. She smiled and nodded.

Monday morning came and Andy went to work. His morning crew foreman, the guy who told him about Helen, was waiting with the inventory report in hand, ready to go.

"Hey Kyle. What's the good word?" He said, walking up.

"How was the weekend at home? Mom cut the crusts off your sandwiches?" Kyle asked, grinning.

"Ha ha. It won't last long. I'm looking at a place now, pretty sure I'm gonna take it."

"Good man, until then you can help me with the truck roster. Marty Dicked it up something awful on Saturday. We're still trying to get back on track."

Andy sighed and went to his office, looking over the papers. Another long day unfucking someone else's mistakes. Not the most enjoyable part of the job, but at least he had something challenging to work on.

He took his lunch and drove home, deciding as he went that he would take the apartment. He walked in and saw Sam sitting on the bottom of the stairs. She stood up as he came in and skipped over to him.

"I had a great idea." She announced with a smile and a blush.

"First one?"

"Very funny. Are you still thinking about the apartment we saw?"

"Nope. Done thinking, I'm gonna call the guy tomorrow and tell him I'll take it." Andy said as he went to the fridge, looking for something to microwave real quick.

"Good. I was thinking about how I should be trying to get a place other than mom and dad's, and since the dorm is out, and shacking up with some stranger is out, I could maybe move in with you. If it's alright." She said, her voice hesitating a little. He looked up from the fridge and saw she looked very nervous. Her hands were twisting in knots in front of her, her face was beet red, and she fidgeted like she might have to go to the bathroom. Andy couldn't help but think that she looked cute as hell like this. He considered it while he tossed a plate of noodles in the nuker. He figured, since it was a two bedroom place it could work. He could forget his plans for a guitar room or office, but that wasn't really a priority. They got along really well, so it probably wouldn't be too bad. Maybe a little awkward if he brought a girl home, but he was figuring on taking a break from relationships anyhow, so he guessed it would work out. That way mom and dad would have the house to themselves for once, and Sammy wouldn't have to put in head phones whenever the fooled around. He knew he would be footing most if not all of the bills, but he was making enough that that shouldn't be too much of a problem. After a few bites of noodles to let her shuffle and twist a bit longer, he nodded.

"Ok, we could try that. Run it by mom and dad, but it's okay with me." He said at last, grinning when she hopped up and down a second and gave a little 'Yay!' She skipped over and pecked his cheek before skipping off to her room. "You're the best." She whispered after the small kiss.

"I am well aware." He replied as she left.

He thought it over a little more as he ate. Having a beautiful young woman skipping through the place would certainly keep him from feeling lonely. He thought that this might turn out pretty well.

Mom and dad were okay with it, telling them that if they needed any help, not to hesitate to ask. Andy took two days off from work to make the move. He packed and moved all of his stuff the first day while (it wasn't much) while Sam spent the day packing her stuff (considerably more) to be moved the next day. She was at school on Wednesday while he moved her stuff. It was all neatly packed into clearly labeled boxes, unlike the garbage bags full of random shit he had packed. He had the last of it in his truck, unloading into the apartment when Sam got there. He waved as her little aging but well maintained Corolla pulled in next to his truck.

She skipped over and grabbed a box and followed him in.

"I got everything here, but nothing is set up. After we finish lugging this shit in, I was going to put together your bedframe so you don't have to sleep like I did in college."

"What about your bed?" She asked as they went out for more.

"Hell, I've slept in gravel piles and culverts. A mattress on the floor is perfectly fine for me."

"Hmm." Was her only response as they gathered up more boxes.

They finished quickly and sat for a bit, leaning their backs against the wall in her room.

"Thank you, for letting me move in and stuff. I really appreciate it. I know you would probably rather not live with your little nerdlinger sister."

"Nah, it's fine. You'll probably be a good influence on me, keep me from doing the stupid kind of shit I have a long history of doing. This should be fun."

"I hope so." She said, still smiling.

He started work on the bedframe, taking off his shirt. It went together simple enough, without too many pieces, but it was slow going with just a screwdriver. He finished it and put the box spring and mattress on it, breathing heavy and sweating a bit. Sam walked in with a beer in each hand and handed him one. She stared at his tattoos and scars for a moment.

"See anything you like?"

"Uh, sorry. You're just in better shape than you used to be. More tattoos as well." She was blushing madly again.

"Amazing what happens when you quit coke. And I've always liked getting inked." He said, looking down at the work he had had done.

"I got one." She said suddenly, looking down.

"One what?" He asked.

"Tattoo."

"No way!" he exclaimed, grinning. It seemed that his sister had changed far more than just her taste in music.

"Yup. Last year. Don't tell mom and dad, they'd freak out."

"I won't tell them as long as I get to see it." He said evenly, still grinning.

"Well, it's kinda hidden," she muttered.

"Hidden like where? On your butt cheek or in your armpit or something?"

"Not really," She slid down the wall a bit, letting her butt slide out, so she was more laying down than sitting up. She hooked her thumbs into the front of her shorts and the waistband of her panties and pulled them down a bit. There, sitting just above the top of her slit (which he could also see the top of, peeking out from under the neon green of her underwear) were two little multicolored frogs that seemed to be holding hands just above her crack. As quick as she had pulled them down, she let her clothes rise back up. She wiggled back up the wall as he sat stunned. So now he knew that she kept it shaved bare and that what little he saw momentarily looked great, and that the tattoo looked pretty damned enticing right there.

"Holy fuck nuggets, did you just flash the top of your pussy at me? And were those frogs holding hands?" He asked, trying to ignore the fact that his pants now felt a bit tighter.

She was horribly red now, and her grin was very wide. She buried her face in his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his arm, and struggling to keep from giggling. The struggle was not doing much.

"You're right; mom and dad would absolutely lose their shit if they knew that was there." He said, trying not to laugh himself.

"I was so embarrassed while the guy was doing it. I still can't believe I went through with it." She muttered into his shoulder, a bit muffled.

"Fucking shit. I would say let me see it again, but, you know." He said quietly, not expecting her to pull her shorts down again. He gawked openly when she did just that. She still had her face mashed into his shoulder, so she didn't see just how far she had pulled them down this time. She held her shorts down longer this time, giving him good clear look at the friendly little frogs and the friendly little slit below them. He could see the tip of her clit barely poking out, and everything down there looked moist. He felt his pants become more than a bit tighter this time. He was till entranced when she let her shorts back up. Was she really wet? Did he really just see that? And was the thick erection struggling in his jeans actually the result of seeing his sister's crotch? He was almost as embarrassed as Sammy. He was glad she still had her face in his shoulder. He worked on thinking of anything but that little nubbin of clit to get his crotch to calm down before she looked up. It wasn't working. At least it was trapped along his leg and not making a tent. She straightened up and took her face from his shoulder.

"I must say, I did not expect you to show me again. Holy fuck, I guess you've gotten a bit less shy." He muttered.

"Not really, I don't think. It's because it's you. I know I'm safe with you. Besides, I'm sure you have a couple of tattoos in less than flattering places."

"Yes, but I have to tell you, that is a very flattering place for you. " He said, taking a big gulp of beer.

"So where are your less than flattering tattoos?" She asked, glancing down at his lap.

"A couple are right where your little froggies are. One in a spot a little more painful." He admitted slowly.

Her head whipped around at that.

"What do mean, a little more painful?" she asked, grinning even wider.

"I was drunk, and inked a tattoo myself. Down the side of, side of. Why the hell am I telling you about my, uh"

"And here I thought I was the one that got all flustered. What is the tattoo of?" She giggled, enjoying seeing him turning red for once.

"It's two words. It says, uh, well, 'Ramming Speed!' with a little arrow pointing to the, that's enough. You get the point." He chuckled, feeling his cheeks burning.

"Wow. I guess mom and dad don't know about that one." She laughed, almost doubled over.

"No, they don't." he agreed, laughing as well.

When they got themselves under control a little better, she looked up at him, still grinning.

"No, I'm not going to show you." He said before she could ask.

"Fair is fair, right? You got to see mine twice." She giggled.

He thought for a second then sighed. It was still hard, but he found that the embarrassment was taking a back seat to the arousal. He rationalized that it would just make it easier to read like this. He hesitated again when his hands were on the button at the top of his fly. Was he actually going to whip out his dick for his kid sister? Yes, it appeared he was. He opened his pants and pulled out his hard cock. With the fly pulled open, she could see the skull tattooed on either side of the shaft, partially hidden by the close cropped hair, and it was very easy to see the words written up his dick, and the arrow that stretched up to just under his glans, pointing at the head. She stared at it until he tucked it back in, having trouble getting it to tuck enough for him to close his pants.

"What on earth possessed you to do that? I mean 'Ramming Speed!' is a bit much, isn't it?" She asked when he got situated.

"It was an old joke between me and my buddies. One night I was drinking and thought it would be hilarious. It was funny until I was about halfway through, when I started feeling it. It was going to have arrows all around the shaft, but after the first on, I gave up. It hurt too bad." He explained.

"Man oh man. Only you." She chuckled.

They stood up and stretched.

"I'm going to go ahead and get some of my stuff set up. I guess this weekend we go shopping for a little furniture." He said, feeling a little awkward now.

"Yeah, I guess I'll start putting my room together too." She said, looking around. She followed him out and skipped to the bathroom. He was just going into his room when he heard something from the bathroom at the end of the short hall. He listened a moment, not believing his ears. It sounded like a low moan. He crept towards the door, being as quiet as he could. As he got closer, he realized he was right. He could hear her breathing hard and moaning intermittently. He just stood there a moment, listening to his sister masturbate in their new bathroom. When she seemed to calm down he crept back to his room, and had just stepped in when he heard the toilet flush. He busied himself with dumping out a couple of bags of clothes and kicking them into the corner. He wasn't paying much attention to the unpacking. His mind absolutely refused to process anything that did not have to do with Sammy rubbing herself in the bathroom. He imagined he palm resting on the frogs, her fingertips pulling open her lips, rolling that little pink nub of clit around, and then he stepped on the tack, jerking him rudely out of the daydream. He hopped around on one foot cursing loudly before falling on his ass. He had just landed when Sammy popped into his doorway, wondering what the hell was going on. He pulled the tack out and regarded his foot. There was a small bead of blood in the center of his heel.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" She asked, looking at his foot.

"Stepping on tacks." He griped, wiping away the blood.

"Way to go. How did you miss the bright red top of the tack on the white carpet?" She asked, picking up the tack.