Then I grabbed her arms and pulled her up. Mine went around her waist, grabbing her ass and pulling her tight. I kissed her on the lips, tasting Lee and a bit of salt. I didn’t mind tasting myself. Not on Melody’s lips. She shuddered, her arms slipping about my neck, her body pressing tight together.
I broke the kiss, my forehead resting on hers. “Damn, Melody, that was so hot.”
“I know.” She shuddered in my arms. “Finally we got payback on the little brat.”
I smiled. Melody and I had been best friends all our lives. For nineteen years we had hung out. Since we were only a month apart in age, Melody the older, we naturally hung out. We had been inseparable. She was a tomboy, so we had fun playing war and knights and cowboys, racing around our shared yards or playing with other boys in the neighborhood. And our friendship had blossomed into love. She was my queen now.
My submissive, sexy queen ruling my harem at my side.
“Damn, Clint,” she groaned, her hips humping, rubbing her jeans against my dick hanging out of my fly. “We’re going to piss on her. The brat. Oh, my god, I’m so wet.”
“And I’m getting hard,” I groaned, gripping her ass. “We’re going to have so much fun humiliating Lee. She gets off on it.”
“Little slut,” she moaned. “We should get clothes pins and cover her body in them. I bet she would go wild.”
I groaned. “Damn, you have great ideas. I love you so much, Melody.”
“Mmm, love you, too,” she purred and kissed me hard.
And then I heard Alicia let out a loud sob. I caught a glimpse of my little sister, her pigtails flying, as she darted past us for the stairs. Her sock-clad feet tromped up to the second floor. And then her bedroom door crashed shut, rattling the house.
I broke the kiss. “The fuck?”
Melody sighed. “She’s in love with you, Clint, and you just made this wonderful, gushy pronouncement to me, telling me how much you love me–which I enjoyed, by the way–but you’re her big brother.”
“Well, I do love you,” I said, growing irritated. “She has to understand that. You’re my queen.”
“And she’s your little princess. Your submissive sister. She reads all those romances.” Melody smiled. “And, I think, you’re growing to love her, too. I seen how you grin when she holds your hand.”
“Yeah. But I love you.”
“And your father loved two women.” Melody said with patient words. “I don’t mind sharing you. And not just with sex slaves. But Alicia.” She nodded her head. “I could share your heart with our little sister.”
I licked my lips. “Should go talk to her?”
She arched an eyebrow then sighed the way she did when I was being a clueless guy. She squeezed my hand. “She needs that right now. I’m sure you’ll know just what to say to make her feel loved.”
Melody leaned in and gave me another kiss.
* * *
Alicia Elliston
I threw myself on my bed, my pile of stuffed animals shifting. Floppy, a blue bunny, fell across my back as I buried my crying face into my pillow. My glasses pushed against the bridge of my nose and the rims pressed on my brow. I ripped them off, tears falling, and plopped them on my nightstand. Then I buried my face into my pillow.
He loved her. Not me. Her.
And why wouldn’t he love Melody? She had boobs. She had an ass. She had curves. She was fun. She could laugh and joke with him. She had all these little things she did, looks and glances and playful punches, that he understood. It was like they had their own private language.
And what did I have?
No tits. Just a pair of small buds pretending to be boobs. Every other woman, even bratty Lee, had tits in the family. But not me. Mom and Zoey, my older sister, had huge tits. Aunt Vicky had big boobs, and Melody’s were nice and round. Lee’s were handfuls, but they at least filled a bra. My little A cups didn’t even need a bra.
I would never have real boobs.
And he loved her. Even though I gave him my virginity. He called me his little princess, but my big brother didn’t love me. How could I compete with Melody? She was blonde while I was a brunette. Drab, boring, brown hair. She dressed so sexy while all I had were little girl clothing.
I hugged my pillow tight, the fabric growing wetter and wetter as I rubbed my face into it. It wasn’t fair. I loved Clint for so long. He was supposed to be like the sexy men in all the romance novels I read. He was supposed to love me.
Not her.
A loud rap came at my door. “Alicia.”
It was Clint. “Go away!”
He grabbed my door knob and twisted. It rattled. “Alicia, unlock this door right now.”
“No!”
“You’re not being a good, little sister right now.”
My legs kicked. “I don’t care. I don’t want to be your little sister. I hate you!”
“Alicia,” he groaned. “Let me in. I want to talk to you.”
“No!”
He turned the doorknob again. “I’m going to count to three. You better let me in.”
“No! I hate you!” I didn’t know why I said those words. But I was just so angry at him.
“One!”
I clapped my pillow around my ears.
“Two!”
My stomach twisted. What would happen when he said three? Would he spank me like he did Lee?
“Threeeeee…” he stretched out the word.
I bolted from the bed, darting to the door.
“…eeeeeee…”
I yanked it open, the lock popping as I twisted the knob. I stared up at Clint. He was fuzzy without my glasses on. Then I turned and darted to my bed, flopping on it and not looking at him. Why couldn’t he just leave me alone?