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I looked back and saw Jennifer standing behind me. She pulled at my arm even harder. “Come on, Matt, let’s leave the nice people alone.”
My sister strongarmed me out of the room, through a pair of glass doors and out to a stone patio. Even in my anger, I noticed that the view was stunning. Rolling green hills flanked by the wide, sparkling Hudson River. The day had gotten warm, but with the breeze, it was actually comfortable. A few other people were out there, too, crowded around small tables. They didn’t even look up as my sister dragged me along.
Finally, Jennifer let go of my arm and stared at me, arms crossed around her chest.
“So,” she said. I winced, waiting for her to unload on me like everyone else. “How’s Beth doing?” Then she burst out laughing.
My jaw dropped. Her mirth overwhelmed my anger and I started to laugh, too. “You see it right?” I said, “Do they really not know or are they being rude on purpose?”
“You think you have it bad?” Jennifer asked, “All day in there. When are you getting married? When are you having kids? I’m twenty-two for fucks sake.”
“Sorry,” I said.
“Fucking family,” Jennifer said. She took a big swig of her drink.
We stood out there and stared out at the view, silent. We’d had a moment, yes, but the tension between us was still there. I focused on the view — it was the kind of thing you saw in paintings, but never experienced in real life. Easy to forget that the city loomed behind us, cacophonous and chaotic.
After a while, we were called in for dinner. They opened up a gorgeous, grand ballroom in some other part of the house and we went inside. My Dad gave me a grim smile when he saw me. I wondered if he was aware of what I was going through that day.
A table at the front of the ballroom had cards with seat assignments on them. My parents were placed with my Dad’s siblings, but they split Jennifer and I by age. My sister ended up with the younger, college crowd. Meanwhile, I found myself sitting with a bunch of couples in their forties. All they wanted to talk about was the Jets or their kids. I couldn’t care less about either.
Again, I was reminded of the age difference between Jennifer and me. I was at an ‘adult’ table, surrounded by people with thinning hairlines and growing bellies. Parents and executives. My sister was sitting with, well, college kids. They all looked so young — gawky and giggling, coming into themselves. If I felt too young for my table, my sister seemed too mature for hers. Both of us meeting somewhere in the middle.
After dinner, a DJ came out and started playing music. The kids all ran out and the place turned into the world’s dorkiest nightclub. I don’t think I ever even saw the bar mitzvah boy. I just sat back in my chair, alone, and stared at my phone.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and looked up. Jennifer smiled down at me. She took the seat next to me with a loud sigh.
“I think Uncle Dave is fucking his daughter,” she said.
I looked up. I hadn’t noticed it, but the music had slowed down. There were only couples on the dance floor. Sure enough, Uncle Dave and Cousin Sarah were standing close as anyone, rocking slowly to the music. My uncle’s hand rested in a spot on his daughter’s bare back that I wouldn’t dare reach for on a first date.
“I caught Cousin Debbie getting a little close with her brother before,” I said.
“Uncle Chaim pinched my ass,” Jennifer said.
“Seriously?”
“Can’t make stuff like that up,” Jennifer said, “Oh, and did you notice how Uncle Paul and Aunt Cassie spent the whole evening glued to Uncle Abe and Aunt Patrice?”
“They’re totally swapping,” I said, “There’s no doubt.”
It wasn’t all that funny, but Jennifer laughed so hard her face went red and tears rolled down her cheeks. Like letting out weeks of tension all at once. She put her hand over mine and gave it a little squeeze.
“I wonder if incest runs in families,” I said, idly.
“It would explain a good many things,” Jennifer said.
We spent the rest of the night, sitting at the table together. At one point, we even got up and danced. Unlike our randy relatives, though, we stayed like proper siblings, giving plenty of distance. Playfully sniping at each other as we spun around on the parquet floors.
“Is it weird that I kind of enjoyed today?” Jennifer said, as we moved to the music.
“I guess it was OK,” I said.
“I hate it when Mom is right,” Jennifer said.
“It was only fun because you were here,” I said. As soon as the words slipped past my lips, I regretted them.
But instead of freaking out as I feared she would, my sister simply leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Same.”
*
Dad got the car from the valet and we all piled in. He eased out of the circular driveway and out onto the dark roads. Nothing was well lit out here. It felt like we’d travelled to an alternate dimension or gone backward in time.
“You should take off your sport coat,” Jennifer said to me, “It’s too hot for that in here.”
I gave her an odd look but obeyed her request. I wrestled my way out of my jacket. With nowhere to put it, I left it on my lap. Jennifer reached over and smoothed the cloth till it covered my legs like a blanket.
Once she was satisfied, Jennifer slipped her hand under the coat and, in one swift movement, reached right for my crotch. I gasped.
“You two OK back there?” Dad asked.
“Fine,” I croaked out.
Jennifer didn’t even respond. She just started slowly dragging down my zipper. I hadn’t been hard when I got in the car — I was pretty whiskey-dicked to be honest — but it didn’t matter. As soon as my sister went for my cock it was hard as a rock. Jennifer wrapped her cool fingers around my dick and started to rub me.
I made another strangled sound. Like a choked-out groan.
“Hey Dad, how about some music?” Jennifer asked.
My father went to reach for the radio, but Mom stopped him.
“Actually,” she said, “I want to talk to both of you.” She turned around slightly in her seat. Jennifer didn’t slow her stroking even a little bit. If anything, she gripped my dick even tighter. Thank God for sport coats and dark streets.
“I can tell you two aren’t getting along,” Mom said.
“Honestly we’re…”
“Arguing all the time,” Mom continued, “As if I didn’t raise you two to get along. I know there’s an age difference but you’re brother and sister. You’re supposed to be friends.”
We were way more than that, based on how my sister was getting me off in the backseat of my parents’ car.
“I know being on top of each other can be hard,” Mom said.
“Very hard,” Jennifer said.
“I know that your sister makes for a tight fit,” Mom said.
“Very tight,” Jennifer said.
“But you two have to work together to reach your goals. Give and take. Matthew?”
“Yes Mom,” I said, my voice as throttled as if Jennifer had her hand around my neck rather than my penis.
“Your little sister is soft and sensitive,” Mom said, “You can’t just plow into her. You have to build her up slowly. She can be playful, yes, but you need to remember she’s a young girl who’s looking to her big brother to help her along. Jennifer?”
“Yes Mom?” Jennifer said.
“You need to trust your big brother. I know you like to be in control. But Matthew has a lot more experience than you and that means, sometimes, laying back and letting him take charge. Just hang on and enjoy the ride. OK?”
She eyed us both very seriously, awaiting our response.
“Understood,” Jennifer said.
“Got it,” I said.
Finally, my mother turned around. My Dad turned on the music. But my sister didn’t speed her stroking. Instead, she kept a nice steady pace. Working my dick up and down. What started out as pure bliss became something a lot like torture. Boys are simple. We want to cum. Anything in between is nice, but we like to get to the grand finale.