My Sister’s Deception
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Jenifer is my little sister. And we’re pretty tight, though that wasn’t always the case.
There’s almost two years between us. Once she began walking, she was always right there behind me. It seemed like every time I did something wrong, she was right there to catch it, running to mom and dad with every detail. She, however could do no wrong.
Little snitch. Deceitful little snitch, I should say.
Then, when she was in middle school, things began to change. Her ‘baby girl’ angelic persona began to falter and her halo gradually disappeared. By the time she was in eighth grade, Jen was merely human. Mom and dad weren’t as worried about me anymore; they were sure she was going to be the discipline problem.
The night she snuck out to meet an older boy sealed the deal. She got grounded for a month. I knew the guy; he was a sophomore at my school. He didn’t know enough not to run his mouth about that sweet young piece of pussy he was gonna sink his dick into as soon as he got the chance. I got three days in-school-suspension and a pat on the back from dad. Mom tried not to let me see her smile, but I saw it.
That was a turning point for my relationship with Jen. Mom and Dad were the forces of darkness raining on her parade, and for a change, Jen saw me as an ally. I didn’t tell her about punching the guy out, or why I did it, but somebody did. I noticed the difference almost immediately. It started with a hug, and suddenly, her silence was golden; we were allies united. We watched out for each other and became good friends, actually trusting each other.
I was a junior in high school the first time she asked me for a favor. I don’t even remember now what it was for. All I know is Jen had finally come to the realization that I was the one she could count on when all else was against her.
When we were little kids, I’d nearly despised the fact that she was a constant shadow. As teenagers in high school, if we didn’t have dates lined up, the two of us would go out together; we were nearly inseparable.
Fast forward a few years. Jen followed me to college.
The fall semester of my junior year, her freshman year, was a disaster for me. Two weeks before homecoming, my girlfriend broke up with me. Suddenly, I was dateless. As luck would have it, Jen and her roommate Meghan were dateless, too. She’d met several guys, gone out with a few, but nothing serious, and the night of the bonfire found us standing next to each other. Erik, my roommate, was with us and played the chivalrous knight, lending her his sweater when she got cold. He managed to sweet talk her into giving up her phone number; they dated for the next two years.
Erik broke up with her when he graduated and jumped off into the business world. Jen was devastated, but quickly recovered when Dale swept her off her feet. He’d been quietly admiring her from a distance and moved in to lend her his shoulder to cry on when Erik dumped her.
They married when Jen had one semester of college left. None of us thought it was a good idea. That last semester was rough on her, to say nothing of the transition to being married to a husband working a new job. Dale was a nice enough guy, but he always struck me as more absorbed in extracurricular activities than he was focused on his new bride. Not that he was cheating on her, not with a woman, anyway. Poker, softball, basketball, watching sports at the bar, all with the guys. Nothing wrong with any of that, but it’s all he did. Jen stuck it out for a couple of years and finally threw in the towel, tired of being ignored.
Their ‘no fault’ divorce was quick and simple. They parted ways without much disgruntlement on either side; I’m not even sure he even noticed she was gone. For reasons that were beyond me, Jen elected to keep her married name.
For several weeks, Jen lived in a depressed funk, convinced her marriage had failed because of something she had done or failed to do. I found myself sharing the task of consoling her and talking her down from her emotional ledge with Meghan.
Meghan and I had dated for a few months when she and Jen were freshmen, and though I knew I didn’t have a shot at getting back together with her, it was good to see her and talk to her. Over the course of several weeks of deliberation, Jen decided to move and take a job working with Meghan. I helped Jen pack up and move.
It was a good deal all the way around; Jen now lived a mere ninety minutes away from me, and she was in the daily company of a good friend as she put her life back together. I kept plugging along on at my own job, with my own life; I’d never met Ms. Right, probably a good thing considering how much my job required me to travel, and Jen and I closed the gap in our relationship that had opened in the time we’d been apart.
Less than six months after she started working at her new job, she began fending off unwanted attention from a friend of Meghan’s boyfriend, Dennis. She was not attracted to him at all, and he demonstrated a great reluctance to taking no for an answer. Jen called etiler ucuz escort me not long after the new would-be suitor began making a nuisance of himself.
“I need a favor,” she said. “Actually, I wanted you to know I’ve implicated you in a lie. It’s nothing big and I don’t need you to do anything. It’s just, well, I told a lie and involved you in it.”
“What kind of lie?” I asked. “And what kind of favor?”
“You know that friend of Dennis’s I was telling you about? I told him you were my boyfriend.”
“You told him I was your boyfriend?” I asked.
“He kept hounding me to go out with him,” she said. “I’d already told him I had a boyfriend, and he kept pressuring me, so I showed him your picture and told him it was you.”
“Meghan knows me,” I said. “You think she can keep the secret?”
“She can’t stand the guy, either,” Jenifer said. “She won’t tell him any different.”
“Whatever, Sis,” I said. “I’ll be your boyfriend.”
How hard could this be? It was deceitful, sure, but pretty clever, too. With only one other person around her that knew the truth, it was too easy.
That was over a year ago.
Little did we know Meghan’s boyfriend would propose. She and Dennis had been together for three years, so I guess we shouldn’t have been that surprised. Easy enough to figure she’d ask Jenifer to be in the wedding. I was kind of surprised, though, when Jen called and told me she and Meghan were coming to spend the weekend with me.
There had been awkwardness between Meghan and me for the two months following our breakup, but because she and Jen were roommates and good friends, we had moved past it. Meghan, to me, was like another little sister.
I got home Friday after work and did a quick clean-up of my apartment. Not that I’m a slob, but I’m not the neatest guy in the world, either. I changed the sheets on the bed; the girls could sleep there and I’d take the couch.
About nine o’clock, I heard a knock on the door. Looking through the peephole, I saw they’d finally arrived. I opened the door to greet them.
“How are you?” Meghan asked, kissing me on the cheek and hugging me.
“I’m doing well,” I said, returning her kiss. “Congratulations on your engagement.”
“Thank you,” Meghan said as she moved out of Jenifer’s way.
“Hey, Sis, it’s good to see you.”
Jen threw her arms around my neck and hugged me.
“You can’t call me that,” she said, holding herself tight to me. “I’m your girlfriend. What would people think if they heard you?”
She kissed me on the cheek and laughed at the perplexed look on my face.
“She’s right,” Meghan said.
“What people are we concerned about?” I asked.
“The people at Meghan’s wedding,” Jenifer said.
“My sister’s going to be the maid of honor,” Meghan said, “and Jen’s going to be one of my bridesmaids. You have to come.”
“Are you officially inviting me?” I asked.
“The invitation will be in the mail by the end of the month,” she said, smiling and looking from me to Jen and back.
“Okay,” I said. “You two are up to something. What is it?”
“I’m thirsty,” Jen said. “Got the margaritas made?”
The women kicked their shoes off as I walked to the kitchen to get glasses for us. It was a tradition of sorts for us that went back to our college days. My apartment, margaritas, the three of us sitting, drinking and relaxing together.
“Need some help?”
I turned around to see Jen leaning against the counter behind me.
“Yeah,” I said. “Grab those glasses.”
She scooped them up in her hands as I balanced the salt and limes and picked up the pitcher.
“Don’t drop anything,” she said, bumping my hip with hers.
The contents of the pitcher sloshed, threatening to spill over. I kept the liquid from spilling and followed Jen back into the living room. Don’t ask me why my eyes fixated on her butt as she walked toward the couch. Her jeans were tight across her ass, stretching even more taut as she leaned over, setting the glasses down on the table. Jen turned toward me, taking the salt and limes from me as I sat the pitcher down.
Meghan slid back onto the couch and reached for the glasses. I moved a chair closer as she and Jen poured the margaritas.
“So what are you two up to?” I asked as I sat down.
“You know that guy I told you about?” Jenifer asked. “He’s going to be one of Denny’s groomsmen and said he’d be glad to take care of me for the weekend of the wedding since you’ll probably be busy with other things.”
“The guy’s a real ass,” Meghan said, contorting her face as she got a little too much lime at once. “But we’re putting the wedding party up in a hotel not far from where we’re getting married, so you can come and it won’t be a problem.”
“Why can’t I just stay with you?” I asked Jenifer.
“Because they’re getting married in a beach ceremony down along the coast,” she said.
“Padre,” Meghan said, nodding. “We’re going to put the two of you in a etiler üniversiteli escort room together.”
“Really?” I asked. I didn’t have a problem with it, but I knew somebody would.
“I’ve already dealt with the ‘but they’re not married’ bit,” Meghan said, “so that’s not really even an issue. The big plus to all of this is that Rick will actually see the two of you together and maybe he’ll finally leave Jen alone.”
“There aren’t any other single, available women where you live?” I asked.
“He’s been all over two other women since he met me, slept with both of them, and keeps coming back,” Jenifer said. “That’s why this is so important. He doesn’t think you exist. He’s seen your picture, the flowers you’ve sent me…”
“When did I send you flowers?” I asked.
“You send them at least once a month,” Meghan said.
“They’re always really nice,” Jenifer said. “I really like the daisies.”
“So we’re pretty serious, then?” I asked.
“After more than a year together as a couple?” Jenifer asked. “And we do spend a lot of our weekends together.”
That much was true. Jen and I visited each other nearly every weekend, unless I was away for my job.
We killed off the first pitcher of margaritas slowly as we enjoyed each other’s company. I wrote the date of Meghan’s wedding down and made a note to get the time off from my job.
A couple of hours later, the pitcher was running low and the alcohol was warming us up. All three of us were relaxed, in a good mood, a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. Meghan now sat in the chair by herself; Jen sat next to me on the couch, her arm looped through mine as she leaned against me.
Meghan was telling us about Dennis’ family and stopped suddenly, looking at us.
“There,” she said. “I wish I had a camera. I’d take a picture.”
“What?” Jenifer asked.
“Right now,” Meghan said, “you two look like a couple that’s been together for awhile. Comfortable, relaxed, intimate.”
Jenifer and I both laughed as we looked at each other.
“What are you talking about?” I asked
Meghan sat her glass down in front of her.
“At the moment,” she said, “you’re away from everybody and no one can see the two of you together. But when you’re out in public, if you come to see her at work, when you’re together at Padre for my wedding, people will see you together and know if you’re really a couple or not.”
“We’ll be in a room together,” I said.
“I’m talking about when you’re not in the room,” Meghan said. “Dinner Thursday night when we all get there, all day Friday. The rehearsal dinner Friday night will be a big deal. The wedding Saturday. You know good and well there will be times when couples will be dancing and kissing and…”
“I think you’re blowing it all out of proportion,” Jenifer said.
“When’s the last time you kissed each other?” Meghan said.
Jenifer and I looked at each other and back at Meghan.
“Tonight when the two of you got here,” I said.
She shook her head.
“Not on the cheek,” Meghan said. “That’s brother and sister stuff. When I say ‘kiss’ I mean kiss. Like you love each other. Like you know things together, about each other, that nobody else knows. Like… there’s that special bond between you that means something once your behind the closed door in that hotel room you’ll be sharing. Not that I expect that you’ve ever kissed like that, because it would be really weird if you had. But, anyone that’s been in love can tell the difference.”
Jenifer sat up a little and I suddenly felt a little warmer. Almost uncomfortable.
“Like this?” Jenifer asked.
I turned my head toward her as she leaned up and planted her lips on mine. Matter-of-factly, almost business like, no emotion.
“No,” Meghan said, sliding out of the chair. “Like this.”
Meghan moved around the edge of the table and crawled into my lap, her face hovering over mine as her hands cupped my face, tilting it up towards her.
I could feel her warmth, smell her perfume, hear her breathing as she bent forward, laying her lips softly against mine. The touch was familiar, an old memory renewed, as her mouth melded with mine, her face turning at an angle, mine turning against it, our lips forming a seal as her tongue ventured forth. When we’d dated, we’d kissed enough to know it was something that wound both of us up, and I could feel myself flushing, my hands on her thighs, moving to cup her ass as we osculated licentiously.
The kiss lasted long enough, was involved enough, that no one could call it casual.
“Like that,” Meghan said, pulling her head up and licking her lips.
She sat down in my lap with my hands still resting on her ass.
Jenifer sat there staring at us, mouth open.
“Meg,” she said.
“That may have been a little much,” Meghan said, moving off of my lap, “but you get the point.”
I nodded and watched her move back to her seat.
“You’re engaged,” Jenifer said, looking at Meghan. fatih escort “What would Denny say if he saw you kissing Kyhl like that?”
“He’d probably get all wound up,” Meghan said, picking her glass up again as she sat back down. “The point is, it looked like a lot more than it was. It looked more like I was crawling into the arms of my lover, my boyfriend, than simply giving a kiss to an old friend.”
“I’ve never seen anyone kiss on old friend like that,” I said.
“Depends on the friend,” Meghan said, smiling and licking her lips. “The point is, you know what I’m talking about when I say folks know what an ‘in love’ kiss looks like versus the sibling kiss.”
Jenifer looked at me and then both of us looked at Meghan.
“I’m going to go fill this back up,” Meghan said, leaning forward and grabbing the pitcher.
We watched her walk toward the kitchen and sat there, silent, as she started getting the next batch of drinks ready.
I turned to look at Jenifer as she shifted her position on the couch. She sat her glass down and turned to face me, bringing a leg up on the couch.
“We can do this,” she said.
“Kiss?” I asked.
“That,” Jenifer said. “And whatever else we need to do to make people think we’re a couple.”
“Why is that so important?” I asked.
“For starters,” she replied, “I want to get Rick off my back. It’s like all he does is stare at my tits and my ass and think of ways to get into my pants.”
“That’s enough,” she said. “And with this wedding, having you there will help fend off all the people that try and set me up with the perfect guy they know.”
Jenifer leaned toward me.
“I wanna try it,” she said.
I leaned toward her. Our noses bumped and Jenifer giggled, falling against the couch.
“How are we supposed to kiss if you’re laughing?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said, still giggling as she grabbed my hand.
I pulled her to me and nearly kissed her arm as her hand brushed in front of me, sweeping hair back out of her face. My lips landed on top of hers and I felt Jen smile again, my lips falling against her teeth as the corners of her mouth raised. I leaned a little closer to her and Jen laughed again, this time, holding herself close to me for a moment, finally pulling back from me and leaning back against the couch.
“You know I love you,” she said. “I don’t know why I’m laughing.”
“I know,” I said. “I love you, too. I guess laughing is better than crying.”
“Yeah,” Jen said.
Slowly, she leaned back, still holding my hand. Jen brought her leg up, her knee almost in my chest as I leaned toward her. I put a hand on her thigh and pushed her leg back against the couch. Jen pulled me toward her, reaching for me with her free hand. I braced myself against the couch as she put her hand to my face.
I kissed her. Quick, affectionate, nothing more.
She looked at me like I’d cheated.
“What was that?” she asked.
“That was a kiss,” I said.
“That was a peck,” she said. “That was not a kiss.”
I brought my lips to hers again. Soft, deliberate, her lips consumed by mine, my lips consumed by hers. My tongue found hers; her hand let go of mine and found my face, her fingers caressing, urging, holding me to her.
Our lips parted and her arms shot around my neck, pulling me to her as I collapsed against her. I slowly slid an arm underneath her body as she arched her back. Jen brought her other foot off of the floor and wrapped her leg around me, effectively trapping me.
Jen’s arms relaxed, allowing us both to look over at Meghan. She stood between the kitchen and the living room, pitcher of margaritas in hand, looking at us.
“Are the two of you going straight to making out, or what?” she asked as she walked back toward us. “If Denny and I were doing that, you’d tell us to get a room.”
“Maybe we will,” Jen said as her hands slipped from around my neck. She still had her leg wrapped around me.
“I missed you kissing,” Meghan said.
“We can fix that,” Jen said, her fingers grazing my neck as she leaned up to kiss me.
Our lips met again. No laughing, no overt passion; affection, softly intimate, genuine.
“That… wow,” Meghan said. “You two sure you haven’t been working on that for awhile?”
“I promise,” I said, sitting up.
Jen pulled her other leg from behind me and laid it across my lap.
“Why is it such a big deal?” she asked. “We kissed each other. So what?”
“Right,” Meghan said, reaching for our glasses.
Halfway into the second pitcher, Jen sat her drink down to go to the bathroom.
“Find some different music,” she said, kissing me on the cheek as she got up from the couch. “Some old, slow stuff we can dance to.”
I watched her walk from the room. I know what people say about beer goggles, and what they don’t say about checking out your sister’s ass. None of it mattered. I’ve always thought Jen was beautiful. Now, though, I was thinking about her in other ways; thinking about our kiss, about her leg wrapped around me earlier, about the seductive sway of her ass as she meandered away from us.
“It’s not polite to stare like that,” Meghan said.
I snapped back to reality, embarrassed, but not really, at the fact that I’d been caught. I got up to change the music on the stereo.
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