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“Baby, please. It’ll only be for a couple more hours.”
The guest room is filled with boxes, smothering the sounds of their argument from Olivia’s family downstairs. Still, Rachel refuses to raise her voice above a hissed whisper.
“Just a couple more hours of their patronizing bullshit? Of their faux-polite ‘sirs’ and ‘he/hims’ and secret little glances?”
“What do you expect from them?” Olivia presses down on her skirt like that’ll make her outfit look any better. Back home, she dresses butch — jeans, band shirts, leather jackets, docs. But with her family, she feels the pressure to conform. She never came out to them, even after she went to college, and she cannot imagine how they’d handle her dating a woman at all, let alone a trans woman.
“I expect better. It’s not like I’m the only trans person at dinner tonight—“ Rachel mutters and Olivia sighs.
“Marnie—I mean, Max, isn’t out to anyone. Technically they haven’t even come out to me, and I’m their big sister. The only reason I know is because I still follow their old Tumblr. They get how it works here. My family wouldn’t understand even if you did try to tell them.”
In the half-darkness of the guest room, Rachel and Olivia stare at each other. Physically their bodies could not be more different — Olivia is short and chubby, while Rachel is tall and lean. Normally, she wears sundresses and shawls, but…not today. The collar of her buttondown chokes at her neck. Every time she swallows she feels like her adam’s apple bumps into it. Olivia reaches out her hand to hold Rachel’s and stop her from unconsciously picking at her own nails. It’s hard to maneuver around the boxes.
“Look, babe.” Olivia sighs. “I know they suck. But it means a lot to me. And if it helps, you look really hot right now.”
“I look like a freak. And these pants are so fucking tight that…” Rachel gestures down at her crotch.
Olivia cackles. “Oh come on. You’re really gonna get a boner seeing all this?” She gestures down at her extremely conservative dress. “We’re both freaks. It’s just for the night. I’ll suck your cock tomorrow morning to make up for it, okay?”
Rachel purses her lips. Olivia tries to meet Rachel’s eyes but Rachel glances away. “Sure, thanks. Let’s go back out.”
Max hates big family dinners. Noisy, overstimulating, and full of potato-shaped suburban aunts and uncles who love nothing more than to call him a pretty girl. It certainly doesn’t help that this year he made a bit of a mistake with his dress. He only owns the one, which he pulls out for every special occasion where his parents won’t let him wear boy clothes, but it seems like over the past year he’s gained a bit of weight. Or maybe it shrunk somehow. Every time Max shifts in his seat, he’s intimately aware of the tight fabric hugging his curves and pushing his chest up. It’s mortifying, considering how much Max has been binding, for him to discover just how big his tits are now. He figures if he stays in the corner and doesn’t draw attention to himself, no one will notice, and he can browse Tumblr in peace.
Someone tall sits down on the other end of the couch from Max. It takes him a moment to recognize them — Olivia’s partner, the crazy hot androgynous one. His name is Remi? Right? He’s wearing tight black pants and a buttondown with birds patterned across it. He has long, beautiful, curly hair, jangly hoop earrings, and a glass of wine in his right hand, which is just close enough that Max can admire the half dozen beautiful rings on his fingers. Max gulps and looks down at his phone with nervous force.
“How’ve things been?” Remi’s voice is soft and melodic, higher in pitch than Max expects.
Max doesn’t look up. “Good.” That’s not true, of course. He’s been struggling in every class at school and has given up any hopes of graduating on time. He fights with his dad every night. His online boyfriend ghosted him and his so-called friends probably have a secret Discord server where they make fun of him behind his back. He tried to kill himself a couple months ago by overdosing on melatonin but it didn’t actually do anything. But Max says ‘good’ because that’s what you say.
“You hate Thanksgiving too, don’t you?”
Max pauses and looks up from his phone. He meets Remi’s eyes, warm and delicate, with long lashes. Max has never met a man with eyes like this before. He laughs a little. “Yeah, I do. How did you know?”
“When I’m with my dad’s side of the family, I’m the same way. Sitting on the couch with my phone.”
Max smiles with relief. It feels nice to be seen. “Just your dad’s?”
“My mom’s side of the family is more talkative, but also more honest.” Remi gestures vaguely. “My dad is from New Jersey. Bunch of golf club polo shirt Trump-voting dumbasses.”
“Yeah, that sounds like Uncle Mitch. But he’s from Georgia.”
“Dumbasses are everywhere these days. It’s why I prefer sticking to the city.”
Max’s eyes light up. New York City! It’s become a bit of a legendary place to him. The place where Olivia went when he was in middle school, the place where she started cutting her hair short and living it up. Every tiny fragment he gets to hear makes him even more excited — his own personal Xanadu, a place where he can actually be openly trans. “There’s no dumbasses in New York?”
Remi laughs. “There’s dumbasses there too. But it’s easier to avoid them, and easier to find cool people. Out here if you can’t drive, you’re fucked.”
Max winces and nods. “Yeah…it’s pretty bad.”
Remi and Max share another look. Max doesn’t need to say what they both know: he doesn’t have any friends at school or in the neighborhood. Max flushes and looks away, and Remi touches his shoulder. The feeling of his rings against Max’s skin is electrifying.
“Hey, why don’t you come visit sometime? It’s a lot colder in New York right now than it is in South Carolina, I’ll tell you, but…”
Max practically leaps out of the couch. “Oh my god I would love that! I would love that so much, I’ve always wanted to go. Would Olivia be okay with it?” He stammers. He doesn’t want to admit to Olivia’s cool boyfriend that his relationship with his older sister has been somewhat contentious.
“You’ve never visited her? That’s fucked. I’m sure I can talk some sense into her.” Remi smiles with thin and beautiful lips, and Max’s heart skips a beat. “You’ve really never been to New York? That’s fucked.”
“The biggest city I’ve ever seen is Orlando, and that’s only because we were going to Disney World.”
Remi scowls for a moment. “Well, I’ll tell you all about it. But would you be a dear and grab me some wine?” Remi waves his empty wine glass in the air, and Max furiously nods, leaping out of the couch and grabbing the glass. He’s never actually been allowed to have alcohol before, although he’s snuck a few sips here and there when he was younger. He stands up and navigates the sea of nameless distant relatives, managing to duck and dodge any interactions before reaching the refreshments. He fills up Remi’s glass almost to the brim, and then carefully brings it back to the couch in the corner.
Remi takes the glass from Max’s dutiful hands. “Good boy.”
Max flushes red from the praise and shakes his body back and forth before pausing and realizing what Remi just said. They make eye contact again, and something electric hangs in the air. The third layer of Max’s walls come crumbling down.
“Do you smoke? Maybe we should step outside and get some fresh air.” Remi smiles again.
“How did you know?” Max shivers in the nighttime air. He’s wearing a cardigan over his dress, but it’s still not quite warm enough for him. Remi seems to be fine, wearing a small leather jacket over his buttondown. He drank half his wine on the walk down the hill away from the house, and set the glass on the asphalt so he could smoke.
“That you’re a boy? There were a few tells.” Remi takes a drag from his cigarette. The smell of it reminds Max of grandparents and the back of his school, but seeing Remi’s body curve in the darkness, and the light of flame illuminate his face, makes smoking make sense. “The biggest was that you look just as uncomfortable in your clothes as I do.”
Max’s eyes light up. “Wait, are you trans too?”
Remi takes another long drag of the cigarette. “Yeah. I don’t normally dress like this. My name’s not Remi, either.”
Max takes a step closer, pulling himself in. “My name is Max, actually. Not Marnie. What’s your’s?”
Remi leans close to Max, brushing aside his short hair, and whispers, “Rachel.”
The feeling of her breath against his ear, the smell of smoke and nicotine in the air, the beauty of her voice, it all combines to send shivers down Max’s spine. She’s warm, warm in a way Max isn’t used to. He stammers out, “It’s nice to meet you. Properly, I mean.”
“It’s nice to meet you too, Max.” Suddenly it all makes sense, and Max can see her with new eyes. Her long hair, her earrings, the bumps under her shirt, her rings…he shivers again, at a loss for words. Rachel smiles down at him and holds her cigarette out towards him. Max has never smoked a cigarette before but he’s never wanted to look cool in front of a girl more desperately than he does now. He takes the cigarette in his mouth and takes a deep drag, but nothing happens.
Rachel laughs. “It went out, don’t worry. Hold still.” Rachel pulls her lighter out of her pocket and cups one hand around Max’s face, shielding the cigarette from the wind. With her other hand she lights the cigarette, holding a beautifully bright flame in front of Max’s eyes. Her fingers are soft and uncalloused, delicate against his cheek. The cold metal of her rings mixes with the unexpected warmth of the fire in front of his face. She pulls the lighter away, and he takes a deep breath, holding the smoke in his lungs before coughing it up.
Rachel laughs and puts both arms around Max’s shoulders while he bends over coughing. When he finally looks up, she’s smiling down at him. “Good boy. We’ll keep working on it.”
Max knows she’s teasing him, but it doesn’t make him feel bad, the way it normally would. Instead, something about her gentle ribbing combined with the praise causes a soft warmth to spread through Max’s body. Rachel reaches down to take the cigarette from him and their fingers brush against each other. She frowns softly.
“You’re cold, aren’t you?”
Max looks away and nods.
“You’ll need something better than a cardigan when you come visit the city. I have a big winter jacket I use, but it would be too much down here.”
Max giggles, suddenly feeling very shy. He realizes he has no clue what to say next, scared that anything could make him seem less cool. He doesn’t understand why this beautiful woman is being so kind. It’s so different from how Olivia used to treat him.
“We should probably go somewhere warmer, though.”
Max shivers again. “I don’t want to go back in there. It’s fucking noisy.”
Rachel smiles, and maybe if Max was looking at her, he would notice that it’s a shark’s smile, full of sharp teeth. “Is there anywhere private?”
OLIVIA: Hey bb where r u?
OLIVIA: Dinner’s in like 15
RACHEL: went for a walk
RACHEL: be back in a couple hours
OLIVIA: Youre gonna miss din :(
“Don’t spend your whole night on the phone, now.” Olivia’s mom, Mrs. Bennett taps her on the shoulder with a whisk and Olivia slams her phone face-down onto the table. “I still need your help with dinner.”
“Yes mom, sorry mom.” Olivia scrambles into the kitchen to help the rest of the women in the house, leaving her phone on the table. But something still gnaws at her, in the back of her mind. Maybe Rachel is just bored, maybe they need fresh air. But it’s not like them to just wander off like that…
“I like your room.” Rachel sits down on Max’s unmade bed, on top of a twisted pile of sheets. Max glances around at the state of his bedroom — the clothes and empty energy drink cans on the floor, the desk completely covered in useless junk, the walls still decorated with teenage interests. He doesn’t get what she sees. For him, it’s a cave of childhood embarrassments and Hot Topic knickknacks. He goes to try and clear off his desk chair, but she gestures for him to sit next to her. She’s lounging on his bed like an empress. At some point she unbuttoned the top few buttons of her shirt, revealing soft smooth skin underneath. Max can’t take his eyes off of her collarbones.
Rachel offers him some of her wine, and he takes a big gulp. It tastes awful, but that’s alcohol for you. There’s no way for Max to sit on the bed without his body touching Rachel’s, but he lets it happen, pressing his thighs against her legs. His dress is still too small and he’s ill-practiced in wearing it, and so he’s only dimly aware of how far it’s ridden up on his hips. Rachel slides one arm around him, pressing her hand against his shoulder. He nuzzles up against her side, pressing his chest against her.
“So what happened, between you and Olivia? It seems like she can sometimes be really rude to you.”
Max shrugs. “I mean, she’s your girlfriend, I don’t wanna be mean to her. We just…don’t see eye to eye. I’ve always been the one who wanted to play, and she’s always been. Older. I guess. Too cool to hang out with her autistic little sibling.”
Rachel kisses the top of Max’s head. “That fucking sucks, dude. I know what you mean. She can get that way with me too. Always so anxious about how other people see her.”
“That’s it, yeah!” Max nods against Rachel’s arm. “Before she went to college she was the most perfect dixie girl, and I was the weird one for wanting to cut my hair and wear boys clothes. Now that she’s in New York, she cuts her hair and dresses fashionably and dates girls, I guess, but she always treated me like I was the weird one.”
Rachel snorts. “She hardly dates girls. I’m her first girlfriend, and she makes me dress up like an old man to see her parents.”
Max giggles and drinks more wine. “You don’t look like an old man. I could tell there was something fruity going on.”
Rachel laughs. “Well, you too. Trying to be a girl with your short hair and Minecraft phone case. That dress makes you look like you’re in drag.”
Max looks up at Rachel with stars in his eyes. “You think so? I fucking hate it. It’s my only dress and it doesn’t even fit anymore.”
Rachel quickly, so quickly that Max forgives her, glances down at his chest. “Yeah. I mean. We’re in your bedroom. Why don’t you change into your real clothes?”
Max’s face flushes red. He sits up and looks over at his laundry hampers.
“Don’t worry, I’ll avert my eyes, I promise.” Rachel pulls her phone out of her pocket as if to demonstrate she has other places to look.
Max doesn’t know how to tell her that he really wouldn’t mind if she watched. But saying that would be weird, probably (right?), so instead he just stands up and goes over to his closet. He’s never undressed in front of someone before, even if they’re looking away. He glances back towards Rachel. Her phone is held up in front of her face and it sure looks like she’s not watching him. He gulps and pushes the straps off his shoulders, shimmying the dress down his hips and onto the floor.
Max steps out of the dress, and considers his underwear. His boxers are still fine — they were boy underwear anyway, no point in changing them. He takes the shoddy broken-in too-small bra off his chest, breathing in and letting his poor ribs get some relief. He glances behind him again, making sure Rachel isn’t watching. Some part of him is disappointed. Max considers putting a sports bra on to impromptu-bind his chest, but his ribs hurt and he needs the break. Instead he grabs one of his t-shirts (“Camp Chatuga” it says in big faded orange letters on the front) and pulls it over his head. He hunches his back forward slightly, hoping his posture can disguise his tits. He grabs a pair of gym shorts from his laundry. He glances at himself in his mirror. He looks like shit.
“Oh, there we go. Good boy.” Rachel’s voice behind Max causes him to spin around. “Come here.”
Max steps over his piles of laundry and obediently faces her. Her eyes are shimmering. Max’s head is a little foggy.
“You look so much better, darling.”
“You think so?” Max glances down at himself again. “I feel like I’m dressed for gym.”
“Sure, maybe. But it’s honest. And…” Rachel reaches out and runs her hand along his faded shirt. “I like it. It’s you.”
Max blushes and looks down at the floor. He feels Rachel’s other hand take the other side of his shirt, feeling the fabric just above his hips. “Thanks. I…there’s a lot of things I wanna wear but I think if I tried my parents would kill me.”
Rachel yanks suddenly at Max’s shirt, pulling him back onto the bed. He stumbles and ends up half on top of her, half of her side. Her breath smells like wine and cigarettes. Her eyes are beautiful.
“There’s a lot you need to try.”
They kiss. They kiss again. Max doesn’t really know what he’s doing but Rachel does. Her lips are soft and precise, forming certain shapes against his own that Max desperately tries to imitate. Rachel’s hands are under his shirt, her cold rings now pressing against his belly and ribs. Max’s hips buckle without thinking, and Rachel lifts up her knee and presses it against his crotch. He whimpers into her mouth and she feels her smile against his lips. Max’s crotch throbs with the pressure. Rachel digs her nails into his back and he lets out an involuntary moan.
Rachel pulls away for a moment. “Shh baby boy, you need to learn to be quiet.”
Max turns bright red and lifts up his hip for a moment. Rachel glides her hand along his face, gently resting her thumb against his mouth. Max opens his mouth without thinking, and she slides her thumb between his lips, pressing it against his tongue. Max has never felt anything so comforting in his life. Like a warm blanket from inside, filling him and pushing against him. He grinds his cunt against Rachel’s leg over and over, losing himself in the simple pleasure.
Rachel pulls her thumb out of Max’s mouth, grabs his hair, and pulls it down into her chest. “Now it’s time to practice.”
With her other hand, Rachel undoes several more buttons on her shirt. Her tits are small and pointy, with large areolas and a little bit of hair between them. They’re so different from Max’s own thick tits, which press against Rachel’s stomach as he rubs his cunt uselessly against her knee. Rachel guides Max’s head to her chest, and he understands what she wants without her needing to say a word, pressing his lips against her nipple and lapping against it with his tongue.
“Good boy, fuck, god.” Rachel moans and grinds her hips against Max’s chest. She drags her nails against Max’s back, pulling up his shirt and leaving deep red lines in his skin. He works even harder at Rachel’s chest, watching her reactions as he flicks and nibbles at her tits. The entire world fades away except for Rachel and him, lying on a bed in the middle of a great darkness, where nothing else does or could possibly matter.
Max slides his hand down towards Rachel’s crotch, and she gently stops him while shaking her head. “No, no it’s okay. Dysphoria, you know?”
Max feels ashamed for a moment and goes to apologize, but Rachel grabs him and rolls him over, pushing him onto his bed. “Don’t worry. We can still have plenty of fun. Have you ever had a hickey before?”
Max shakes his head, and Rachel pulls his shirt up to expose his tits. She presses her lips against his skin, slides her hand between his legs, and Max’s mind dissolves into a soft dark mist.
“Have you seen Marnie anywhere?” Mrs. Bennett asks the table. “I thought she was sitting at the kid’s table, but I haven’t seen her all afternoon.”
“Probably playing video games again.” Uncle Mitch snorts.
Olivia glances around. The living room has more family members eating than there’s chairs set up, with even more on the couch and in the kitchen. “They’re probably in their room.”
“Oh Olivia, can you be a dear and bring her dinner?” Mrs. Bennett stands up and goes to fuss in the kitchen. “I can make her a plate.”
Mr. Bennett rolls his eyes. “She’ll be fine with leftovers. She needs to learn a lesson.”
“Yeah!” Uncle Mitch finishes another bottle of beer. “If you keep spoiling her, she’ll —bwelchh— never learn to behave.”
Olivia wrinkles her nose. “No, mom’s right. I can make a plate and bring it to them. It’s okay.”
Olivia stands up despite her parents’ mild protestations and goes into the kitchen to put together a plate of turkey, mashed potatoes, cranberries, green beans, stuffing, casserole, and … whatever the hell Aunt Virginia brought. She hugs it close to herself as she weaves around the impromptu tables and distant family members chattering away, and walks down the narrow twisted hall to her little sibling’s room.
It’s dark in the rest of the house, and strangely quiet. Some part of Olivia remembers being a kid and sneaking through these halls to get a snack late at night. The door to her own room still has the band poster she thumbtacked to it when she was a kid. And the sign — ”KEEP OUT! THAT MEANS YOU.” Her parents never listened of course, but it was the only way she could keep Marnie from snooping around. Max, now. Olivia struggles to keep track of her little sibling’s gender. It would be easier if they were open about it, but just like with everyone else in this godforsaken family, no one can just be honest with each other.
Olivia reaches Max’s door. It’s shut, and there’s darkness behind it. She lightly knocks against the door, and no one responds. She puts the plate down in front of the door and goes to leave, but just before she can she hears … Rachel. Her voice. Unmistakable, higher than most would expect, pitched up from voice training. She’s talking to Max on the other side of the door. Olivia freezes, trying to figure out what might be going on. She takes a deep breath and presses her ear against the door.
“There you go, good boy. You’re taking it so well.”
A soft, muffled moan. Olivia falls to her knees, her brain trying to figure out what could possibly be happening.
Another, louder moan.
“Shh, shh.”
Olivia presses her legs together, feeling a wretched knot churn in her stomach. Maybe she’s misunderstanding, maybe she’s wrong, maybe she…
She pushes the door open, just a hair. Just enough to see inside.
Max’s bedroom, a mess like always. A single lamp by the bed illuminating what’s happening. Max is basically naked, lying on his back. His tits (when did they get so big?) pressed down by gravity. Rachel is sitting over him, straddling his hips, her shirt open. Two of her fingers are shoved in his mouth. Her other hand is down between his legs, pumping in and out of…Olivia wants to throw up.
But she can’t. Instead, she stays, horrifically mesmerized by the display in front of her.
“This is what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?” Rachel’s voice is soft but detached. Olivia knows the tone — it’s how Rachel talks to her when she’s going down on her cock. But here it sounds different. Just a little sharper, more raw, more present.
Max lets out another muffled moan and nods his head. He looks fucking pathetic, literally wrapped around her fingers. A burning flare of ancient hate runs rampant through Olivia’s body. She digs her nails into the palms of her hands. How fucking dare she! That bitch! Olivia doesn’t know who she hates more, who she blames for this. She remembers being a kid and Marnie’s stupid attempts at play pretend, her constant need to imitate everything Olivia did. Is this one more imitation?
But also, there’s no way Rachel got genuinely seduced by Olivia’s cringe little sister. There’s no fucking way. That’s impossible. Rachel has better taste than that. Surely.
Rachel looks up from Max’s gyrating body. She looks directly at the crack in the door, directly into Olivia’s eyes. And then, abruptly, violently — Olivia understands.
Max can feel the wave pressing through his body. His own hands, the hairbrush, the bullet vibe he stole from CVS… nothing has ever pressed into him with such brilliant precision. The wave pulls back for a moment before pressing into him again. Max’s hips buckle against Rachel’s hand, drool puddles around the fingers in his mouth. He is choking, aching, and floating in a dark ocean, his body entirely filled with her hands, his mind overwhelmed by the sensation of pleasure. Max had imagined sex many times, of course, humping his pillow or grinding against his electric toothbrush — but nothing in his imagination felt like this. He’s nearly there, he can feel it. The wave is coming and it’s filling every corner of him, building up and up—
“It’s okay babygirl, you can come out.”
Rachel’s voice cuts through Max’s brain like a knife. He opens his eyes in confusion, trying to figure out what’s going on. Someone at the door! Olivia! She’s crouched and … crying? Oh my god.
A thousand conflicting feelings slam into Max and Rachel removes her hand from Max’s mouth just long enough for him to say, “Wait!” before Rachel wraps her beautiful ring-covered hand around his throat and his vision goes black. He can’t stop. The wave crests and overwhelms him. His vision goes dark. Max cums against Rachel’s hand while his big sister watches. Wetness spreads between his legs. Fuzzy stars dance against his eyes. His hips shiver and thrust, and then the feeling of fullness slowly starts to fade as Rachel pulls her hand from his crotch.
“Fuck you, asshole.”
Max remembers Olivia is here. He yelps in fear and pulls his legs close to his chest. He tries to scramble backwards, seek shelter somehow, but Rachel doesn’t move at all. Instead she languidly turns and looks at Olivia, holding her hand up in the air.
“It’s your fault. It’s about time you learned a lesson.”
What does that mean? Max could hardly understand what was happening. Rachel stands up from the bed, leaving Max shivering and alone, and walks over to where Olivia is still crouching on the floor. Olivia goes to stand up but Rachel strikes her with her hand, throwing her to the ground.
Oh my god, she fucking hit me. Olivia whimpers in pain and presses her hand against her cheek. It smells like salt. She hit me with my little sister’s cum?!
“Hey, hey, look at me.” Rachel grabs her hair and twists her head back. Olivia looks up with blurry tear-stained eyes. Rachel stares down at her cruelly. “How was the view? You little pervert.”
Olivia flushes red and looks away. “Fuck off. Creep.”
“Shh now.” Rachel’s boot slams between Olivia’s legs, pressing against her cunt. “Did seeing me fuck your little brother make you wet?”
Olivia doesn’t say anything, but her hips buckle against Rachel’s boot. They both know the truth.
Rachel grabs Olivia’s hair and pulls her closer to the bed. “I think it’s time for you to join in on the fun.”
Olivia glares at her girlfriend. “Why the fuck would I do that, you pervert.”
Rachel grabs Olivia’s head and kneels down to whisper in her ear. Olivia tries to squirm away, but can’t stop her. “Are you really going to tell everyone here what happened? Are you really going to become the cousin whose ‘boyfriend’ fucked her little ‘sister’ in front of her whole family? They’ll never forgive you.”
Olivia’s brain struggles to imagine the depths of horror that would come with that shame. Her whole family would be ostracized. Max would probably get kicked out of the house. They’d never forgive her. No one would. Olivia goes deathly pale, and looks over at Rachel with unsteady eyes. Rachel smiles.
“So our little secret, then.”
“What do you want?” Bile builds in Olivia’s stomach. She has a sinking feeling.
“Strip.”
Olivia swallows her pride and unzips her dress, pulling it off of her. She’s wearing lacy underwear underneath. She meant it as a surprise for Rachel, but that morning feels like an eternity ago. She reluctantly, hands shivering, reaches behind her bra and unclips it. She glances, for the first time since she’s entered the room, over at Max. He’s curled up on the bed frozen and horrified, his eyes flicking between his distant older sister stripping naked in his room and the beautiful goddess who wields such power. Rachel stares directly at Olivia with a cold empty face. Olivia pulls her bra straps over her freckled shoulders, revealing her soft tits. She looks at Rachel uselessly, begging with her eyes to let her stop.
Rachel gestures slightly, as if to say, keep going.
Olivia gulps and grabs hold of her underwear, sliding them down past her thick thighs. Being pudgy runs in her family, and Olivia’s never enjoyed the feeling of being naked. She especially doesn’t enjoy it right now, with her knees in her brother’s laundry. She looks up at Rachel again, aware of how pathetic she must seem. Rachel leans back, and unzips her pants, pulling them down to her hips and revealing her tight-fitting tucking underwear. Max is staring too, lost in the display.
“Max, do you want to learn how to eat me out?”
Max looks between Rachel and Olivia, his body trembling as the warmth of the orgasm slowly fades. All laws of society would demand he say no here. But some part of Max has left those laws behind. All three of them can tell they’re somewhere else now, in some unfamiliar twilight where desire governs. Max crawls closer to Rachel, pawing with his soft hands at her underwear. She pets his head with her hand covered in his cum and smiles.
“Now, watch carefully babygirl. There’s a lot you can learn.”
Olivia shivers in disgust as Rachel lets Max pull her underwear down, revealing her cock. It’s not the biggest cock in the world, and the more Rachel’s been on estrogen, the less it’s been able to work. It’s both hard and soft right now, thick and veiny but flaccid between Rachel’s legs. Max crawls closer, his naked hips sticking up into the air, his fat tits dragging against Rachel’s knee. Rachel guides him, pulling him between her legs so his ass is nearly in Olivia’s face. She looks away at the sight of her brother’s dripping cunt. She knows she should move, but she can’t.
“No, don’t suck on it. Use your tongue, like…hh…there. Yes. Good boy. Fuck,” Rachel whispers while guiding Max’s head along her shaft. “God, yes. You’re such a good slut, jesus fuck.” Olivia watches Max’s cunt twitch at that. She almost pukes.
“Now…fuck, god, yes, okay now you’re going to press two fingers here. That’s called the perineum, and…Oh! Fuck! Yes! Okay, yes, just like that.”
Olivia feels her pussy clench, and wetness spread between her legs. She’s never hated anyone as much as she hates Rachel right now. The first cruelty is fucking her brother in front of her. The second is forcing her to admit she likes it. She surreptitiously pulls herself closer to the bed to get a better look.
Rachel is rubbing her cock against Max’s face while his tongue runs along the sides of the shaft and her foreskin. Two of his fingers are buried underneath Rachel’s balls, while his other hand is between his own legs. Olivia realizes with some disgust that her own hand has wandered as well, operating without her permission to rub against her clit.
God, Rachel’s cock is beautiful.
Olivia hates that even now she finds herself admitting it. There’s nothing she wants more than to bury it down her throat, to choke on it, to pump it in and out of her pussy until she cums. But instead she has to watch her loser little brother, with his stupid short haircut and his udder-like tits and his complete lack of grace or decorum, grind his face against it without ever putting it in his mouth.
Rachel looks over at her with a cruel expression. Olivia’s hand pushes deeper against her clit.
“Here, n…now, fuck, pull your head away but keep…god, fuck yes keep doing that good boy.” Rachel pulls Max’s head back from her own clit and takes it in one hand. She touches herself in the elegant way that one does when they’ve mastered touching themself, and with one finger pressed against her foreskin and two wrapped around her shaft, she pumps her clit over and over while Max looks up at her with burning light in his eyes.
With her other hand, she grabs Olivia’s hair, and pulls her partially up onto the bed. Just close enough to see. Just close enough…
Rachel cums. It’s soft and watery, splattering everywhere and dripping out onto Max’s bed. It splashes all over Max’s face and tits, Rachel’s thighs, and into Olivia’s hair. Rachel moans in satisfaction and lies back onto the bed, her twitching cock still leaking cum. Max leans forward and licks at it, sucking every drop he can from her cunt. Olivia’s body shakes with pleasure and denial. She needs it. She can’t fucking take it anymore. She needs Rachel more than she’s ever needed anything in the world.
Rachel sits up and claps her hands together. “Come on now. We should go back before they think we’re dead.”
Mrs. Bennett doesn’t believe in any modern miracles. But if someone presses her, she might just describe that young man’s impact on her daughters as miraculous. Marnie and Olivia spend five years barely talking to one another (and Marnie barely talking to anyone, besides those who-knows-whats on her computer, bless her heart) until today. Now the three of them are in the living room after dinner, sitting around and joking with all the grownups. The young man (Remi, Mrs. Bennett remembers his name) has one arm around each of them, and the three of them are beaming more than Mrs. Bennett had seen in years.
“Sorry we missed dinner, Mrs. Bennett. We went out for a walk. There’s a beautiful creek just nearby.” Remi says.
“Is that where Marnie got that bruise?” Uncle Mitch chortles and points at Marnie’s chest. She blushes and goes to cover it, but Remi squeezes her shoulder.
“Yeah, poor dear fell and hit a mailbox. But it’s fine, don’t worry.”
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
Mrs. Bennett grins from ear to ear. “Oh, it’s so good to see all you young folks. And Olivia! We’ve been missing you at home, while you’re off in the big city.”
Olivia smiles, and Mrs. Bennett is briefly aware of a great gulf between the two of them, something she can never know how to cross. “Actually, I’ve been talking about visiting more. It would be nice to see Marnie once in a while.”
Marnie sits up excitedly. “Yeah! And Ra–Remi and I were talking about having me visit!”
Mrs. Bennett looks surprised. “Lord willing and the Creek don’t rise, I never thought Olivia would want to have guests. You’ve never liked having people in your personal space, poor dear.” She pulls herself closer to fuss over her daughter.
Olivia chuckles and Remi digs his hand into her shoulder. “Yeah, I don’t know. I guess that’s what growing up is.”
“Well, I’ve heard of stranger miracles. Now, you’ve got something on your face…” Mrs. Bennett reaches towards Olivia’s hair but she reaches up and brushes it out.
“It’s probably just some frosting.” Olivia mutters.
“Which, speaking of, Mrs. Bennett, do you have any more of that carrot cake? It was to die for.” Remi leans forward with a wicked grin.
Mrs. Bennett pulls her hand away and stands up. “For family? I reckon I can rustle some up.”
“Thanks mom.” Both sisters say at once, and then exchange a quiet glance. Some part of Mrs. Bennett could tell there was a new secret between them, but she’s no stranger to secrets, and she’ll be the first to tell you: all that matters is a happy family. Everything else you can keep to yourself.