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He laughed. "I did see someone once, but not about that. Maybe I should go back?"

Yes! He laughed. He laughed for me. Only for me. I didn't have to share his laughter with a hallway full of people like Sharron. I opened the other water bottle and drank from it. "I'd suggest it. At least if these delusions keep going."

He smiled into his book, never looking up.

"Did Terri give you my gift?"

He looked up then, almost on the edge of rage. I understood then. He was a quick boy, quick in his passions, quick to his rage. I could see the child in this man. "What gift," he said quietly. It wasn't a question. This wasn't Jason, the neighbor I never talked to. This was my brother, demanding an answer. Commanding an answer. Compelling me to speak.

But I wasn't intimidated. I had a purpose today, and I would not be turned aside.

"This."

I leaned down and kissed him softly on his lips. I tasted him. His lips, his surprise, his soul.

He looked at me, stunned and shocked. His tongue darted across his lips, trying to feel me, taste me. Green eyes locked with green eyes. I didn't flinch. Yes, my eyes said. No matter the question, yes.

"No. He didn't give me that," he said, a small hint of wonder in his voice.

"You should definitely talk to him about it." I kissed him again, more solidly, my tongue slightly piercing the inside of his closed lips and running across them. "Laters," I said softly as I broke our kiss, our second kiss, turned and walked back to my house. This time, when I threw that extra swing into my hips, I was sure he noticed.

I walked with a new sense of pride. I didn't feel like I was under the shadow of the incident. I didn't feel Van's hands on my skin. I felt free, proud, myself. It was him who was off balance today. It was Jason who would be gripping his manhood tonight, thinking of me. I felt his eyes following me all the way to the door. I went to my room, but stayed away from the window. Not today, Jason. I'm winning today!

I flopped down on my bed, still in my cheerleading uniform. My hand went straight between my legs, lightly playing with my clitty through my clothes as I wondered what Jason would think about as he pulled and tugged on his man-meat. Would he think about kissing me, or the sway of my skirt? Would he think about my sweet little ass under that skirt?

Ass? Shit, was he into anal? I had never done anal. Both of my hands came up to my mouth as I considered the thought. Then, smelling myself on my hands, I gasped as I realized I didn't care. If Jason wanted my ass, then Jason was going to have my ass. I wasn't going to deny him anything. My mouth, my tits, my pussy, my ass. If Jason wanted to ear fuck me I would find a way to make it happen. Hell, even if he didn't want my ass, I was going to make him take it! He was going to have me, all of me, whether he wanted it or not! Who the hell was Jason to turn down my ass? I had a great ass. A luscious ass! Any man would be blessed to have my ass! Who the hell was Jason not to take my little bubble butt!

Wait. Stop. You're getting mad at him for something he hasn't even done yet, Katie. I looked over at the window. God, how I wanted to look out at him, to see if he was still there, still stunned, still wondering. I wanted to know if he was still thinking about me. But I was resolved. I was not going to that window. I was not going to let him wave at me again, knowing I was there, not today. Today I had the upper hand. Today I was the victor. Today, I was claiming him. He was my prize.

My resolve lasted a full thirty seconds. I walked slowly to the window until I could see him clearly. Looking out, I found him holding his book, staring into nothing. I could feel his tongue licking his lips. Still tasting me on them. YES!

I threw myself onto my bed and started rubbing my breasts again. I wasn't trying to get off, but it did feel nice. I let thoughts of Jason's thoughts flit through my mind. He was imagining that last kiss again. He was wishing he had grabbed me as I turned away, and pulled me back to him. His lips would have found mine and I would have kissed him again and again, until both of our lips were swollen with lust. He imagined himself pulling my top up and kissing my breast, letting his lips explore my globes until he came to my nipples. His tongue would dart out to flick them, testing, teasing me. Then he would suck one of them into his mouth, his tongue playing with it as it hardened, his teeth lightly biting me to keep it in place.

Shit. I wasn't trying to get off, but now I had to. I had gone too far in my fantasy to let it slip away now. I needed to get off. My hand slid below the shorts and panties under my skirt, bringing the wetness from my pussy up to my clit. I rubbed my little clitty in tight quick circles.

His hand would move up and down on his shaft, gripping himself firmly as his mind was lost between my breasts, his hand playing with one while his mouth and tongue played with the other. Then his hands would suddenly appear on my waist, pulling my shorts and panties down to my ankles. He saw himself still suckling at my breasts as his hand began to play with my clitty, his other hand returning to my breasts.

He was jacking himself faster now, feeling pleasure with the thought of giving pleasure.

Slowly, he left my breasts, kissing his way down my flat tummy, past my belly button. After a quick suckle and lick on my clitty that made me moan out loud, his hands gripped my ass and pulled me closer. He could see himself spreading my lips open, inhaling my scent, my aroma, my essence. Then he dove, tongue first, into my pussy. He was trying his best to lick every drop of me from my walls, feeding himself, fueling his drive with my sex, nibbling on my lips and sucking on my hard little button. He went back inside me, every thrust of his tongue deeper than the last. He was tasting and savoring me, making me, forcing me, encouraging me to moan out to him. "Yes. Yes. There. Oh God yes," he heard me say as I panted his name to anyone who cared to walk down the street and watch my brother eat his sister's pussy in front of the world.

He could feel himself getting close. He could feel my hands on the back of his head. I pulled him into me as I got close, my knees locking before they buckled.

I saw him, his hand wrapped tightly around his pulsating dick as he pumped away at it, milking his manhood for all it was worth. His sperm was shooting into the air. Wasted. One shot, two, three.

Oh God. Yes. Yes!

Four. The last dribbled out onto his hand, over his fingers. He sat there, wishing I was there to lick it off him, to take his dick into my mouth and make sure not one drop of him went to waste, my lips cleaning his cock, my tongue bathing his balls. Good to the last drop.

I lay in my bed, breathing hard, my fingers in my mouth, sucking my own come off them, wishing the same thing.