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Make-me-come-all- over-your-face-and-then-you-can-go-home-now? As if I could wrap one in brown paper, attach a handle, and call it my carry-on briefcase. Then I flipped through a packet of snapshots of herself she'd recently sent. The second beer sent me rustling through the mausoleum of my old supplies. She left a message on mine saying she'd have me fetched from the airport. And I walk through those rooms and a couple those guys in there are giving me looks like Oh yea? I kept forgetting her name from one minute to the next, but she was somehow involved in casting. Miriam's message was as unmistakable as when the staff in a restaurant start putting all the rest of the chairs up on the tables. Is you memory that good or do you really take notes? As if my small funds could possibly buy her something meaningful. There was another half hour spent flipping through old canvases. I left a message on Miriam's machine telling her my itinerary. "But you had no right to be mad," she continued, "because I only did that because you melted my Barbie's feet into big black clumps." "Why you unappreciative bitch you! I was trying to make it so she could stand up without leaning against something. I wound up engrossed in a conversation with the woman seated next to me. Chatting about the party in the past tense, finishing up the last drinks, helping the hostess clean up. Then I looked up and saw the voice belonged to a particular man. I fell asleep for awhile, and then the ride was over. Before I could ask him any more questions he was back in the car and driving away. All the lights were on and there was lots of noise within. The door was opened by some man who looked at me as though I was pond scum. " He rolled his eyes, then called over his shoulder, "Miriam! She made up for the lowered volume by continuing her incessant patter. She nuzzled against my neck, her breath shallow and hot. Unless you've a particularly dumb and ugly special someone tucked away somewhere." That made her smile. I did lay down for about twenty minutes, long enough for a nap. So I switched tactics and went for the quick shower and clean clothes. I kept waiting for the hot water to run out, but it never did. "Or worse," I continued, "getting a jump on preparing the breakfast spread. The punchline being that the family maintained the listing as a sort of memorial. I could see out the window how the sky was darkening into night. I was so frazzled from my travels that I began to hallucinate. It became a regular chant that was certain to haunt my dreams. But no matter how hard I looked I couldn't locate the host or any other guests. She fairly dragged me up a staircase to the second story, leaving the din down below. But I've had the travails of travel to keep my mind from it. My olfactory receptors were flooded with the clean fresh scent of her, with just a slight flowery overlay of shampoo. Didn't Santa finally bring you some self-confidence? Then she leaned up and gave me a quick kiss, again on the lips, "Alright then." She breezed out of the room with a wave and then she was gone. "But then, right about now, we'd be burning all the bedding." She laughed heartily.Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Incest, Brother, Sister, . There was a small supply of wood contained in a wrought iron holder that was likely mostly ornamental, but I went ahead and messed with the damper, found some matches, and soon had a wonderfully warming blaze going in the fireplace. I didn't eat much steak anymore, mostly because I'd been spoiled by a few run-ins with some particularly delicious filet mignon.Desc: Incest Sex Story: Christmas at his sister's reveals too many hidden secrets. " "As in, Miriam, your everlovin' sister." "Oh, I know. When Miriam reentered the room, her face took on a glow from within. " She held a pair of wine glasses in one hand, upturned, stems between her fingers. I'd read that this year's crop was the best in decades. Naturally I hadn't found a store that wasn't sold-out. " "Oh," she gave a smug little wriggle, "I have my sources!
He was dressed like the skipper of a ship, except all in black. Something for you that just crawled in from the sticks! So many words, tumbling out so fast, I couldn't understand anything she was saying. I started worrying about how I could feel her breasts firmly against my chest, but then I decided I shouldn't be the one to have to worry about that. I didn't want to bother rummaging through my luggage. It was nearly an hour before I made it back downstairs. Can you imagine waking up in the morning and having to see all them? You're going to give me nightmares." I just stood there grinning.Late afternoon Friday is supposed to be the apex of the week. Her other hand displayed a freshly uncorked bottle. I wasn't much of a wine drinker, but I recognized the label. " We made a nest of floor pillows in front of the hearth and settled on in.Sure, sure, nothing like a Saturday night to be hot hot hot, fun fun fun, wild wild wild. I idly fingered the hem of her robe, then fell into my tailor imitation, "Nice fabric." She smiled, "Isn't it though?"Okay," I'd sucked in my breath, "though perhaps I deserve an explanation of why not." "Because! I have to wash my hair." I could just see her give that cute pageboy a shake like she had a headful of tresses.
Then I called around until I found a travel agency still open. I was able to book a seat flying out when most of the rest of the world would be either bright-eyed or sleepy- eyed, surrounded by storms of shredded bits of bright paper. After she'd fled, Miriam and I had by unspoken agreement given up the sad pretense of gift-giving. "I thought your hair was wet or something." "It is," she cooed, "but I'm not talking about the top-of-my-head kind." "Oh yea? "Then why don't you just bend down and lick your own goddamn pussy for a change." Click. The intervening period before my departure rushed by in the usual dull blur of my accustomed drudgery. For the first time I had a glimpse of how weeks like this could suddenly become decades like this. I didn't even own a set, and the few times I'd gone to the movies in recent years, it was to see a film made on the other side of the planet from Hollywood. Not in the sense of sharing secrets and intimate moments. The business and social lives are completely contiguous around here. You share work on a script, you share laughs at the cuts, you share dinner, you invite each other over for drinks. " "You seemed to be enjoying Jasmine's company," she replied gently. I don't want to sleep with someone unless I know I'll get to keep on sleeping with them, and sleeping with them, and sleeping with them." Miriam turned and muttered a word under her breath. I promise Jasmine will be the first to go." "Okay," I drew up on an elbow. Though I dreaded it, I was fully prepared to pitch in on the clean up.