Pink Pearl

"How far are we?" She was looking around, the parking lot was emptier, the rush was over.

"Just over here." I pointed.

I clicked the button on my key chain and the lights on my car blinked and the car gave a little beep. Lisa walked over to the passenger side, it was dark and there were no lights on at the edge of the lot. I began to go around toward the drivers side, but looking over at her I paused and then followed her.

Lisa had just opened the door when I slipped up behind her and said, "Lisa."

She was startled not knowing I was right behind her.

She said in a low voice, "Matthew."

I leaned myself against her back and wrapped my arms around her waist, simply held to her as I leaned my mouth into her hair and lightly nuzzled her shoulder and kissed her neck. This was the first time I had kissed her, a light touch on her neck. My hands, knowing the shape of her body perfectly now, slipped between her top and skirt and lay my bare hand over her tummy stroking her there as I nibbled on her neck.

I felt her press to me but at the same time moving so as to get into the car. She was pulling from me know, "Ah, ah, ah. Behave." But I held her to me and brought my hand up to her breasts. She did not move. But she kept repeating, "Matthew. We can't. They'll see us. You have to Stop."

She was tipping her chin up and letting me kiss her neck, I could hear a low moan as I kissed a line of kisses on her neck and squeezed her breast. I rubbed her, massaged her. I loved the feel of her as I stroked her stomach, held her hips, and back up to her breasts. Rubbing her over her bra, and trying to feel her under her bra. As my fingers slipped beneath the cup, her hand reached up and grasped mine. "Matthew!" I turned her around to face me then.

"Lisa, let me touch you. We are alone right now. I ..."

As I spoke my hands were stroking down her front. And as she watched reaching up and squeezing her breasts through her top as she looked down at my hands touching her.

"We shouldn't be doing this, you told me you would behave."

I let go, and she stood looking at me. We were silent. I said, "I know, but back at the restaurant. You let me."

"I shouldn't have."

We just stood there. This pause. The silence as I moved closer and she did not move away. I turned my face to her. I whispered, "One kiss."

"They'll see us!"

"No one will see us. No one will know. One kiss."

She was looking around.

I continued, "Everyone left."

She closed her eyes. "Once."

And then we kissed, she held her lips together impassively and pressed her lips to mine. I took her in my arms and kissed her soft, so soft. Then let her fall back a little and held my mouth in front of hers. I said softly, "Kiss me." She leaned forward and kissed me again, as I opened my mouth, she opened hers.

There in the dark we held to one another, touching our tongues together. I loved the way she turned her head as she kissed me, and then she took her hands and placed them on my shoulder. I pressed her back against the car. And as we kissed I began to rub her ass and hips with my hands, her hands holding lightly to my shoulders.

She felt my touch, reaching up under her dress, and as we kissed she was saying, "No Matthew, no."

She knew what was coming. Lifting her skirt I brought my hand around to the front of her, lay the palm of my hand right over her pussy and began rubbing her with my open hand. As I did she opened her mouth wide and kissed me with an intensity that surprised me. I could feel her press her puss right into my hand, hard, and open her legs wide, lifting up one leg. I was kissing her neck, as she held to me as I rubbing her. The feel of her body undulating against my hand.

"Matthew, I need you to stop. Ahhh. Not now. . . We shouldn't be doing, uh, oh god."

All the while she was rubbing her pussy in my hand, and opening her legs. I was practically lifting her onto the car.

"It's all right," I said.

I could feel how wet she was, she was wet from the moment I touched her, but now my hand was sliding on her panties all slippery from her cum. I pressed my finger into the thin fabric and finding her clit, moved over her. She melted. Feeling her yield allowed me to loosen my grip on her. I began to soften my touch, we began to soften our kisses. The light kisses matching the soft stroke of my hand over her little puss. I could feel the hair of her pussy through the fabric, and I began to slide my fingers beneath the fabric right at her thigh. I wanted more. I felt the hairs of her puss for the first time, she was so wet and I was literally squishing my fingers into her.

I was touching her bare flesh, her hairs were matted and wet, I could feel her opening up, and as she suddenly realized what I was doing she stiffened at my touch. I think it took her awhile to completely realize my hand was on her bare pussy. I started stroking her softly, pressed my finger right over her clit. She moaning, began to move away again.

"No. No. No."

She moved suddenly and bending at the waist I watched her skirt fall around her legs. My sister's breathing was in gasps now.

"No. We can't do this. I need to go. I'm late."

I stepped toward her again and she was sliding into the car, the lights inside went on and in that moment she never looked more beautiful. Her disheveled hair, the flash of anger in her eyes. I could see her skirt riding up high on her legs, her full red lips. She was looking up at me, with a look that said, 'Get in. Drive me. Go.'

That moment allowed me to come to my senses and I went around to the other side.

As I got in she was smoothing her skirt, holding it at her knees. Looking out the front window. Silence again. What had come over me? The whole evening was basically me mauling my own sister. I turned the car on and said to no one in particular, "Thanks."

She said, "Don't mention it."

I lay my hand on her knee. "Lisa. I don't want to ruin our relationship."

She shot a look my way, then looked at my hand on her knee. A look that basically indicated she doubted if I cared just then. But she didn't move, and neither did I. I just held it there.

I began to speak as if nothing had happened at all. "I can't remember how to get to Katie's," I said.

"I'll tell you." She continued, "I'm late now."

I backed up and we headed for the exit, when a car suddenly pulled up right alongside us. It was Mom, Dad, and Mandy. They were motioning me to roll down my window.

Lisa simply said, "Oh my god!"

I let go of Lisa's knee and rolled down the window.

"We've been looking for you. Mandy lost her purse. We went inside to look for it, but now she thinks she left it in the car. She can't get in the house without it."

At that moment I realized how close we came.

"Lisa!" called Mom. "What time are you going to be home?"

"Um, I'm not sure."

"How will you get home?" Lisa lifted up from her seat and leaned over me so that her head was sticking out the driver side window. She was on her knees from the center of the seat, her hands pressed into my thighs to hold herself up.

"Katie or Katie's brother will take me home."

I was taking her in just then, her hair was falling all around me, her hands on my thighs, her lovely little ass was sticking up. The curve of her back, and her smell. Again, the third time this evening I lay my hand on her bare thighs and began to stroke her legs. She wiggled her butt a little, trying to wave me off. I continued until my hand was rubbing her ass up under her skirt.

Dad was calling from the car now, "You think you could stop by the store?"

"What do you need?" she was saying. Waggling her butt at the same time, trying to shake me off. She turned to look at me, saying sharply, "Stop it."

No one could see any of this as my hand moved over her crotch again she squeezed my leg hard. But as she talked to Dad, I could here her voice get confused, as she tried to think of what she was going to say while having her pussy rubbed, my hand scratching up between her legs.

Dad was giving a short list of items and Lisa was getting the list wrong, he kept asking her to repeat.

Lisa stopped trying to shake me off, knowing that everything depended on her getting this list right. Dad at one point, "It's not that hard Lisa. Here I'll write it down." And saying to mom, "Where's a pen?"

Lisa was, "No. No. That's fine. I can remember," as I slipped a finger under her panties again and was stroking her bare pussy again, feeling the wetness of her all over again. I had my hand covering her completely, feeling the taught stretch of cloth over the back of my hand. I could smell her now, this beautiful delicate smell. Lisa's pussy in my hand, so wet and open.. Dad found a pen and made his list and handed it across to her. She was reaching just as I pushed my finger into her vagina.

She nearly fainted in that moment, and then as she drew back into the car I heard mom call out "Have fun." And Mandy in the back seat, "See you soon."

"See ya," I croaked. She whimpering out, "Bye," as she backed up, pushing herself right onto my finger, impaling herself further. I felt her tip her hips back the way she did and imagined myself laying on her in that moment, tipping her hip back so that her clit briefly rubbed against my finger and then continued back into her seat.

I rolled up the window and she was putting on her seat belt and smoothing her skirt once again, her body recovering from being ravaged for the third time this evening.

She was eyeing me again. "Matthew!!"

"Sorry."

"What the fuck?" I had never heard Lisa swear before. "I mean . . . You have to cut it out, my god. My own brother. Do you know how much trouble we would be in. YOU would be in if anyone found out what happened."

I began to say something, to apologize or something, but she cut me off.

"No. We need to . . . " I lay my hand on her knee and she took my hand, lifting it away from herself. "Matthew, just stop. STOP. You hear me. I don't want to hear sorry, or nothing anymore. Take me to Katie's. . .God."

We drove in silence for the half hour drive. My sister was calming down, looking sideways at me, and in the time I had to think, it was fully dawning on me how completely inappropriate I was being and I could not think of a single thing to say about it. Her breathing was obviously calming down, and I did not know if she had been aroused or angry when her breathing was so hard. She was pulling her hair behind her ear and looking out the window, at me. I was stealing glances, looking at her lips. Thinking of how we had kissed.

The only talk the whole way was directions: Go straight, Turn here. Until we pulled in front of Katie's house.

We sat there a moment. Before getting out Lisa said, "I can't believe you. Matthew, this needs to stop. Is touching me the only thing you think about anymore.? Cause if it is."

"No. But. I don't think, I'm the . . .only one here . . ."

"Fine. That's what you think."

"Lisa, come on. You kissed me, back there. You did."

She got out of the car, "I'm not the one with a problem. This time."

"Lisa."

"We'll talk later. Look. I got to go." The look she gave me was exasperation, more like I was a naughty child. She was calm, but firm.

"Sorry," I said again.

Before driving off, sitting there in the dark I held my fingers to my nose, inhaled.

"Oh my god."

****************** I spent the next several days thinking about that evening, over and over. I would lay in bed and feel myself grow hard at just the anticipation of remembering. I was tortured. Tortured because at the same time she would not answer her phone or return any of my calls, my memories were so delicious. Nor was she returning any of my emails that I was sending, with cryptic references.

After many days of trying I heard her on the other side of the phone. I was not even expecting her to answer.

All she said was, "Yes."

My voice left me, I could not speak. I could barely hold onto the phone.

I said nothing.

"Matthew. I know its you. What? What is it?"

"We need to talk." I croaked. "I want to see you."

Silence. Then, "Where."

"At . . ."

"Not your house. . . Not my house."

"A restaurant."

"NOT a restaurant."

"My office," I said finally.

"Ok."

"When?"

"I'm busy all this week."

"Next Sunday."

"Ok. . . We'll see."

With an email confirmation it was set up for 6:00 pm. I know she picked that because there was a church service in the evening and I would be preaching. I paused to take in the conversation and what would follow, that we would be in a church.

I vowed to stop. I had to stop.

******************

That Sunday was impossible. Time did not move. I sat in my office, arranging things, imagining where she would sit. Looking across the room at her shadow. I convinced myself this craziness would end, and vowed to talk through everything. At the same time, I wanted to be honest with her. Tell her my feelings. Feelings. What were they? This could only be lust, do I share that? I turned my thoughts until I could not even make out even a single thought. Everything balled up, unrecognizable, and my throat hurt, my mouth was so dry and no amount of water helped. My heart felt like it had this uneven heartbeat, I felt light headed.

Then, it was 6:00 pm, then 6:15. A wave of depression. She was not going to come. How could I sit here, I was a fool. She lied to me. I went through a wave of anger, then despair.

At 6:20 she arrived.

"Hiiiii." I said in a too friendly voice.

I jumped from my seat, but then sat back down. I willed myself not to touch her. She sat in the chair across from my desk. I had arranged some smaller chairs so we would be sitting knee to knee - if we wanted. She ignored the little cocoon I had made. She sat on the vinyl and metal chair that faced my desk. I sat in my swivel.

She simply sat herself down, and stared at me.

"How are you doing?"

She looked at me, sensing my discomfort. I sensed she enjoyed the effect she was having on me, but I felt I had lost all ability to read her.

"Fine." Then pausing.

She started to play with some of my papers on the desk. "I am doing communion this evening."

"K."

"Look, we need to get back, I think, to something that is more like what we had before."

"You mean like brother and sister?"

"Well, yes. But . . .I want to talk about what has been happening. Can we do that?"

"Yes. But quit being the good lil' counselor Matthew. Talk normal, ok."

"This is how I talk." She glared at me. "Sorry, but being what I do, it's sort of second nature. I can't help it. Um, last week. . . Look here's the deal. You came to me with a problem, your problem, and I wanted to help, so I was. Really, that was all. I don't know what came over me. Or has come over me. . ."

"First of all Matthew." She took a deep breath and her tone changed a little. She was leaning onto the desk, talking quiet. "First, I want to say, I don't think this is all your fault. Not ALL your fault. I let things happen, too. That part is part of MY problem. When you first started, um, helping, your massages. Yes. They did work. I stopped doing what I was doing, I liked it, I was coming over and when I left I felt good. But, understand, I had never been touched by anybody, my body never felt like it felt. So . . . THAT was good, that was my doing. But . . ."

She paused and took a folder in her hands.

"What bothered me, what is bothering me, was how you were going for always more, a little more a little more a little more."

"That was wrong. That was bad." I volunteered.

"Quit with the church lady talk. Talk about what you feel, not what is wrong . . . good, bad, right wrong. Ok. I mean, Jesus Matthew. You hurt me in a lot of different ways, not the least of which was coming to the house, my house, and lecturing me and telling me how you were listening to me, helping me. . . When you weren't!

"I . . . "I was about to speak and she stopped me.

"No you weren't! YOU were feeling me up. I don't know what to be mad about first, that day. You lecturing ME or you telling me what you were going to do about it without listening to me at all, AGAIN. That's why I went over to the house after and told you all that stuff. To shock you, to make you hear SOMETHING. Something I should not have done. Because obviously it has gone from bad to worse. You needed to know me, now today, not my image, my veneer. What I was really dealing with, yearning for, afraid of. Ok? And now I feel like after you found out all that stuff, you like took that information to totally take advantage of me. Knowing my weakness and . . . "

"That's not true."

"Well Matthew, Mr. Counselor, what are you thinking? No. What are you feeling? Cause I'd like to know. Start with my drive with you . . ."

She waited.

"I . . . I don't know. I could not help myself. All I can do is think about you. I keep wanting to . . ."

"What."

"Just Touch you. Touch you. Lisa, I feel this." I took her hand. "And . . . I don't want to stop." I saw her ready herself to respond, leaving her hand letting me hold her hand. "Wait. Wait. No. Wait. I know I will, I can. Stop I mean. But I don't think we are thinking about this thing any different. Really. Really we aren't. I know its wrong as much as you do. I don't know what came over me that day. And I will admit. In fact to get through this I have to admit, and admit it to you, that I liked it. I like it too, to touch you, I liked kissing you. And I just want to say it to be honest, and then we can figure out where to go from there."

She let go my hand and looked down now, holding to some papers, playing with some objects on my desk.

I continued quietly, persistently, "And not because I want to use you. I . . .I . . . I can't explain it. I never wanted, want to hurt you. Not ever. I feel like we have some special, secret connection that no one can see. That we have. And when I was touching you, you know, uh, under that table, it seemed like it was a perfect symbol of us. Everyone can see us, two separate people in the visible world, brother and sister, but under that table, hidden from view. . . Somehow we are together. Connected. And you . . .I don't want to make you mad. But . . . you said yourself, that a part, a little bit, was your doing. You responded. And I felt that. Am I mistaken?

"Well. . . I mean, I have a body. I . . . no one. NO ONE has ever touched me like that. You are the first. So, it was all very confusing. If I closed my eyes, and fantasized, the way I do. Then it wasn't even you." She saw my eyes, "But that is not what I was doing, and it was, it was nice. Nice. The little more and little more and little more, though. That is a problem. It was so imperceptible, each indiscretion I sort of let them go by. I didn't want to be interrupted. But at some point, you know, it has to stop."

"I understand. Each time, I want just a little more. Not much, and the whole time I am thinking that I should stop. That time in my bedroom, that time I was ready to get up, go downstairs. But then you asked me to do your legs. That moment. You knew I was going to stop."

"I knew you were. I knew."

"See. You escalated that. You ASKED me to keep going."

"But. I can't explain what I wanted either. I wanted to be touched, to let go, be wild. Not think. Only . . . not with you. But you were the one who was there, then, you were there. I knew I could come over, and I feel safe with you. Something. I was like, this is it, this is what it feels like to be touched. It didn't feel wrong or bad, it felt nice. Until . . . after. I really realized how wrong we were being when Mandy came home and you wanted me to sneak out of there, go out the back door. I felt dirty. Like some, like a . . . slut. But then, that night, I thought about being touched. And it was nice again."