Quixotic Rapprochement

I closed my eyes trying to picture her on the dock. Nothing was coming until the aroma clicked in my senses. My eyes flew open and the image of her spilled out onto the pad as if it'd been traced by a machine following a stencil. The curve of her breasts, the creases of her labia and even the light moisture that she'd had, all ran through my pencil. Emma sat forward as my hand contorted this way and that to get the various shading I wanted. In the drawing, I'd left out any traces of the dock or lake and instead focused solely on her. It felt done, but I wasn't entirely happy with the explicit nature of her pussy.

I was about to erase a little and tweak it when she stopped me, "No, don't, you've got it right. It's amazing."

"It's upside down, how can you tell?"

"I have a hand mirror -"

"Oh, I see. Well, here," I said, as I handed the sketchpad to her.

She took it and scooted to rejoin me at the head of the bed. We sat there together for an unknown amount of time. Both of us were completely nude and I had no sheet to hide my excitement. She finally stopped looking at herself, closed the pad, and put it in the drawer of the nightstand.

"It's very good; you better not let Mom find it," she said. "It should be safer in there. I have to admit something to you," she said and paused as she tried to frame the words. "You know I changed your sheets and put the cloth under your pillow?"

"Yeah, I figured, after you saw me -"

"It's a normal thing - that's not what I need to say. I - I found your sketchpad, before you showed it to me."

"Yeah, of course you did; I wasn't even thinking -"

"It was an accident; I was changing the sheets and there was the lump under there."

"So you'd already seen them?"

"No, I didn't look, but I wondered if maybe you were drawing me. Then after you trampled over those plants, I saw that look you had and I wanted to know."

"Yeah, I'm not very tactful am I?"

"Look, don't feel pressured by my offer. I'm missing contact with Bo and I think I've probably stepped over the line. The thing is I feel partly to blame for Jenny."

"How's that? I should have listened to you."

"No, I heard something about her before she left for college."

"The senior's spring break trip?"

"Yes."

"I heard the rumor too. But she told me it wasn't true when I asked her about it."

"Well, I asked one of the chaperons, ol' Miss Ellison, and she told me how she'd walked in on them. I almost told you that night of prom, but instead I warned you so you could break it off without getting hurt. I thought that you could have moved on to a nice girl in your graduating class."

"Maybe."

"No, I messed up; I should have told you what I knew. I could have prevented what happened."

"Don't put that on yourself, Emma. You did warn me and it nearly worked, but who's to say how I would have reacted to her getting wild in Florida. Maybe I even half knew it was true."

With that, she hugged me close and I put my arms around her in response. Her breasts pressed into me and the scent of her hair brought my declining mast back full. I wished with all my heart that she weren't my sister because what I felt for her at that moment wasn't lust. It was the kind of pure love that rendered my mind senseless. The blended sex dream where Mme Soliel had morphed into Emma returned to my mind in a flash. And her offer to teach me simply added embers to the fire that was taking hold of me. Every heartbeat seemed like a drum in my head.

Light flashed across the window and we each realized Mama was home at the same moment. Emma reached over and turned the lamp off. I watched her pull her gown on quickly and head toward the door.

"Good night, Emma."

"Yeah it was. Good night," she said with a giggle and was gone.

---

The next couple of days went by in a blur that didn't include any trips to the lake or visits from Emma. She and Mama took the two days of nearly constant rain to work on projects around the house and getting some things taken care of in town. I got assigned taking Pops back to the doctor's office for another checkup since his mood didn't seem to be improving.

When the rain stopped Thursday afternoon, it cleared up entirely and even started to dry things out a bit. We still hadn't spoken much and it felt like she was giving me space to work out whether to take her up on the offer. I wanted to, badly, I just wasn't sure what it'd mean or do to our relationship. My feelings of love for her hadn't receded much and she was so recently broken up with Bo, I worried for both of us.

That evening after I fixed and cleared dinner for Pops and myself, I went outside to find the full strawberry moon rising over knee high corn. In a fog of wistful thoughts, I soon found myself walking amongst the stalks puffing on my old corncob pipe. Without even realizing it, I'd gone to the shed to retrieve it and gotten some of Pops' aromatic tobacco to fill the bowl. The tobacco was out there because Mama didn't let either of us smoke anywhere near the house. She'd preferred we not smoke at all, but despite her aversion to alcohol, she was okay with us having an occasional pipeful of Pops' favorite blend.

My dad probably missed his true calling as a woodworker. Besides carving waterfowl, he made all kinds of furniture, household aids, toys and pipes. I figured everyone has some vice and his was a rich fragrant tobacco, although he didn't smoke it all the time. About a week before my thirteenth birthday, which occurred towards the end of the fall harvest, Pops had actually helped me pick out a nice big cob, from some fat ones he'd been drying, to make my own pipe. We'd turned the outside on his lathe and used a spoon bit to drill the center hollow. Then we'd used a mixture of mud and plaster of Paris to coat the inside, which made it smoother and last longer. It'd taken a few days to cure, and we'd put in a stem we made from a hardened reed.

I hadn't taken it to college with me, it felt uncultured or undignified, but being here now - well, I felt like indulging. I'd always liked to puff the smoke into my mouth and taste it while I thought deeply. It seemed to focus my mind like pacing did and combining the two was even better.

The quiet solitude of this evening had me thinking and pacing in the field. Thoughts of my drawings I'd made of Madam Soliel and how I'd felt attracted to her combined with how Emma had me in various states of arousal over the last few weeks. I was pondering an outlet other than self-abuse but there simply hadn't been any women in my classes or around here that I found as attractive as either of them. I knew Mme. Soliel was out of my league even if she weren't married and I was graduated. Emma - well - damn it - they were both forbidden fruits for different reasons. I hadn't decided what to do about Emma's offer of teaching me, it just felt too weird. I knew I wanted to badly, but admitting that made me feel even worse.

The night wore on and as I paced back toward the house, through the endless row, I came upon Emma or perhaps she'd come upon me. She was wearing a white tube top and the moonlight shown off of it as she approached. The warm summer night had me sweating. I couldn't tell if she was sweating, but her nipples were poking straight out of that top. I felt guilty, but couldn't take my eyes off them.

"You and Mama got home early," I said across the distance.

"Yeah, she's worried about Pops. What are you out here thinking on, Squirt?" she asked, in a quieter tone when she was close.

"How do you know I'm thinking on something?"

"I know you, Paul. I practically raised you from the time you were five."

"Yeah, I guess. Mama tells of you going off to college when I was about nine months old, so I guess you had a hand in changing my diapers too," I teased her.

"Yeah, I had you potty trained before I left. Why do you think your nickname is Squirt?"

The revelation those words carried, rolled over me like a tidal-wave. That was what it had been about all this time. I wanted to laugh as I imagined her changing me or helping me use the potty for those first attempts and getting squirted in the process.

"Why do you always torture me so?" I finally asked, as I tried to take a puff from the pipe.

It'd gone out and I pulled out my gold lighter to relight it. The flame danced in the bowl as I sucked in short quick bursts to light it. The light shown in Emma's face briefly, until I flipped it shut and put it back in my pocket. Then I took a big puff from the pipe, blew a smoke ring and watched it rise above my head.

"Sorry, that was mean. Seriously though, what are you doing out here alone in the moonlight, smoking your pipe and pacing the fields?"

"Well, I'm thinking about what to do. I haven't had any kind of romance in my life since Jenny dumped me and I don't see it changing."

"Aren't there some girls your age in your classes you could date?"

I thought about the question and realized that that might be part of my problem. "I can't honestly say. I mean I know there are, but I don't see them like that and maybe they don't see me like that either."

"You're talking in circles, mister. You do like women, don't you?"

"Of course, I like women! You've seen how excited you've gotten me," I said, letting down my defenses even though it felt like a trap. I blurted out the core of my problem, "I don't just want sex though. I want the whole package."

"Who are you drawn to?"

I knew she'd seen my sketches of Mme Soliel and our interaction recently had me wondering if Emma felt something too. I guessed it was possible that she hadn't figured it out.

"I was really attracted to one of my professors, but she's married and that'd never work anyway."

"So you have a thing for older women."

"No, not all older women, just some."

"The woman in the drawings?" she asked, putting things together.

"Yes, but like I said, she's married."

"Who else? How many?"

"I can't say."

"Can't or won't?"

"You're so hard on me," I said defensively. She folded her arms across her chest and I finally just told her, "I only seem to be attracted to a couple of older women I can't have."

"The professor and who else? Mom?"

"No, not Mama," I said dismissively, although now that she'd mentioned it, I wonder if I am or ever was. "I don't think I am anyway." I knew she was fishing but I couldn't let myself say it aloud.

"Aunt Sarah, cousins Marva or Sally?"

"No, no and no and I don't think I should answer any more," I said.

Now I was kind of thinking about them too. They were Mom's older sister and her two daughters, who were older than Emma was. All of them had strikingly golden hair like Mom and Emma. Sarah and her husband had moved south to retire already and Marva and Sally had moved off with husbands, so I wasn't even sure where they were currently. Pops younger brother James didn't have any kids or even a wife. I took several repeated puffs from the pipe. I could feel my embarrassment growing and had to wonder why she was pressing this. Maybe she did know and it was dawning upon me that I was only drawn to women that looked like Emma.

"There's nothing you could say that would shock or offend me, so out with it."

I hesitated for several moments. Her words seemed sincere and even though she teased me sometimes, she'd always been there to take care of me and help me. It felt like she must know it too, the way she'd been acting since I came back home for the summer and her offer of teaching me.

"You, Emma, I'm attracted to you!" I said in a little too loud of a whisper.

"Yeah, you really help my self-esteem."

"Well, it's more than that - I think - I'm in lo-"

"Ohhhh shit!" she exclaimed. "I wasn't - oh - sweetie - I -" her voice trailed off to mutterings that I interpreted as rejection.

Certain I'd screwed up, I quickly retracted, "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"No, it's okay, I'm not offended. Obviously, I'm attracted too," she said but then hesitated. "I don't know if I've ever thought about you in that way. I love you, but -"

"Look, I'm leaving in two months; we don't ever have to talk about this again. I'm really sorry, I'll work it out," I said and started to walk away.

"Wait Paul."

"Why?" I asked trying hard to hold back the hurt and continued walking.

"You came home to get away from her didn't you?"

Her words stopped me cold in my tracks, "Yes, well no, to stop thinking about her. I was obsessing."

"And now you're obsessing about me."

"No - maybe, I don't know. You're very attractive to me. I have loved you as a caregiver and sister for most of my life. Now, I feel like I'm in love with you but can't have you either."

"I think I understand."

"Maybe you can explain it to me, because I sure don't," I said, as I took a big drag and accidentally inhaled some into my lungs, which started me coughing and sputtering.

"Give me that," she said. "You're liable to set yourself ablaze."

While I continued coughing, Emma puffed on the pipe and blew some smoke rings of her own. I'd never seen her smoke a pipe or a cigarette for that matter. My eyes were watering fiercely when I finally got myself under control. She patted me on the back gently, then popped the last of the bowl out against her heel, stomped it out, and handed me the pipe back.

"Dad's blend is really good, but I prefer Uncle Jimmy's. That's who gave you the lighter isn't it?"

"Yeah, for graduation," I said, as I wondered about the sudden change in topic.

Then just as quickly, she switched back, "Maybe what we could do is practice your approach as well."

"Approach?"

"Yeah, maybe you're going about it wrong. I don't know if you want to date professors, but maybe slightly older women."

"I don't have an approach; I'm not even trying."

"Well there's the problem. We'll work on it."

"How? I don't think I can learn this from my sister."

"What if I weren't your sister? How would you ask me out?"

"Well, I've already told you how pretty you are. You've seen how I look at you. You felt the effect you have on me at the lake and while I drew you the other night."

"So turn those thoughts into words that convince me to go out with you."

I thought about it a moment or two and gave it my best effort. "Emma, I think you know that I like you and find you attractive, would you go on a date with me?"

"Hmm, that's pretty good. Yes, where would you like to go?"

"I hadn't thought that far."

"You've got to be ready for 'yes', mister. Go again, ask me out again."

"Hey Emma, we've been hanging around together for a while and I'm attracted to you. Do you think you -"

"Nope. Try again."

"Emma I'm falling in love with you -"

"No. Come on, you don't want to scare the woman off. Being attracted and falling in love are two different things."

They were two different things, but I'd already gotten to the second part with her. I wanted to ask her how you hide it when you already feel that, but then realized how crazy that sounded. I tried a number of other pickup lines on her, none of which worked. I didn't know what she was looking for so eventually I wound up back at the one that'd almost worked.

"Emma, you know I like you and am attracted to you, right?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

"Yes, Paul, that'd be nice. Where would you like to go?"

"I was thinking dinner and then a movie in town, tomorrow?"

"Okay, you can pick me up around four-thirty."

"Okay, I'll see you then."

"Where will you be taking me?"

Her double entendre nearly tripped me up, "The - um - steak house on Main."

"Oh, nice and what movie?"

"I think there's a new 'Indiana Jones' movie."

"Oh, I like that guy. He's almost as dreamy as you."

"Knock it off, I thought you were helping me."

"I am, I can't wait to go and you better not disappoint me. I'm really looking forward to it," she said walking back toward the house.

"Wait, we're going? I didn't think you liked to be seen in public with me."

"That was before you grew up. Now you're cute."

Now I'm cute? I thought to myself. What the heck did I just agree to do? I wondered, as I followed her.

Right before we reached the house, she stopped and turned to me. Her arms reached around my neck to pull my head down and she gave me a full on the mouth tongue kiss. I just stood there in shock as she gave me one of the nicest kisses I'd ever had in my life. There's no way I could tell how long that French kiss lasted, I was lost in it. My arms wrapped around her as it continued. There was tension building in my pants and I knew she could feel it pressing against her belly.

When she finally broke it off, she said, "Okay, I'll see you at four-thirty sharp." Then she dashed onto the porch, opened the screen door and was half way up the stairs when it slammed shut.

I stayed by the old tree for a while as I replayed what'd just happened. The entire interaction had been rife with double entendre and I couldn't decide if they were deliberate or not. When I thought about the incident at the lake, it seemed like some of her words there might have also been intentionally provocative. Was it coincidence that she'd asked me Are you ready to go? after sliding up my cock? My mind began to replay numerous conversations now. The more I thought about it the more convinced I became.

When I went inside, I climbed the stairs straight up to my room and disrobed. When I heard her come out of the restroom and close her door, I went in to brush my teeth and use the john before bed. Back in my room I found it hard to sleep, I kept thinking of the various exploratory behaviors that'd happened. The one that I kept reliving was the feel of her hand grasping me right here in this bed after drawing her. It was tender and caring and after tonight, I wanted her hand on me again.

In the darkness, I pulled my rigid cock out and put my hand about me like she had. I could almost imagine it was her. It was wrong and naughty in so many ways, but as I jerked myself, I was inundated with visuals of her touching me and her placing my hands upon her breasts. As I climaxed tonight, I moaned her name and ached for another kiss like she'd given me outside.

Placing the cloth beneath my pillow, I began to worry about how quickly I'd just gotten myself off. It began to trouble me and I thought about Jenny's belittlement of me. At that moment it was as if a barrier in my mind were removed and I recalled another portrait I'd done and it wasn't in the sketch books I had in my dorm, it was here in my blanket chest.

Turning on the light, I climbed out and went to the foot of the bed where the blanket chest was. Inside I dug through the layers of linens to find all of my earlier sketchpads. The pictures inside were very early drawings I'd made when I might have been twelve or thirteen. As I sat on the bed leafing through them looking for the sketch, finally finding it.

It was kind of shocking to see my Mama looking back at me from the drawing that must be ten years old. The striking similarity of her to Emma was unmistakable although unsurprising. What had stunned me was how much they both looked like Mme Soliel. It gave me a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach as I wondered about this undeniable attraction I found for my sister and professor. Did I have this attraction because of Mama? Do I have some kind of buried Oedipal complex? The questions left me worried and embarrassed. What could I do if I did? Was I now officially a pervert?

Turning the page, I found the first drawing I'd made of Jenny. I couldn't remember drawing her initially. There seemed to be more blocks protecting me from these. Each page I turned was another one of her until there were ones I'd drawn during high school. I'd forgotten that this one book had been dedicated to just portraits but when I reached the last picture in the book, it was Jenny as I'd drawn her on the night she'd dumped me. She was still lovely in the picture, but I could see disappointment and disdain in her expression.