Sins of the Jenkins

All characters are over 18 years of age.

JACK

My legs ache as if they mimic the furious beating of my apprehensive heart. The steel chair presses uncomfortably against my back, a cold reminder of what's coming. I try to hear what's being said behind the closed door, but my ears only receive the dull hum of a stern voice. The words are indecipherable.

My best friend is in the next room with the school principal. She is my favorite person in the whole world. My soulmate. She's under interrogation by the old hag principal. The scent of the joint we shared must have stretched for miles. How on earth did she find us so far from the main building? We always use the same hideout and have never been discovered until today. The long drip of sweat hanging on my hair thread finally gives up and falls onto my cheek.

What was happening in there? Were we about to be expelled? Mum would be furious. We're always getting into trouble. Jade and I. My partner in crime as always. We're both in our final year at school.

Suddenly the door creaks open. The hunched figure beckons me inside. We always call her old hag behind her back. Mrs. Heckles is epitome of a witch that you would find in any folklore. Beige straws stuck out of her head like a bird's nest that had just been destroyed. Cruel, sharp eyes that were almost purple. Crooked teeth as yellow as an egg yolk. Skin so wrinkled it resembles sandpaper.

"Jack. Step inside," she snarls. "Jade, you stay right where you are. Since you two are as bad as each other, I may as well tell you both what's about to happen."

What's about to happen? I glance sideways, desperately seeking Jade's eyes as I take a seat next to her. She doesn't seem to notice, or she's pretending that I'm not in the room about to receive the punishment that will likely send our mother over the edge. Then in a flash I'm reminded of our close bond. Her finger trails over my wrist and she gives my hand a quick squeeze before returning back to her lap. That's all I need to feel secure. If she ever abandons me, I'll be truly lost.

Then she straightens up her back and faces Mrs. Heckles directly.

"If you're going to expel us, the least you can do Is wait for our mom to arrive," she pronounces defiantly. Mrs. Heckles eyes her warily and her shoulders begin to tighten as if she's about to launch herself at my brave sister. Then, her low slump resumes as she lets out a deep sigh of resignation.

"I'm not expelling you..."

Jade and I share looks of bewilderment. She shoots me a quick smirk, which I return as we brace for the outcome.

"However," she continues abruptly, killing our temporary celebrations, "One of you will be leaving West Temple High immediately."

My heart leaps into my throat. One of us? We've never been separated in our whole lives. We are one and the same. The thought of existing in any space of being without Jade seems like a fate worse than death. I know she feels the same way. It's written all over her pale, lightly freckled face. Her auburn hair covers her eyes as she slumps deep into her chair, yet I know her features so well, I can interpret any sign of happiness, despair, fear, pain... I can read her emotions from a simple twitch on her cheek or from the rhythm of her breathing.

Finally, I work up the courage to speak.

"Mrs. Heckles. You can't do that. I'm sorry for what we did. I know it was wrong. But we've always been together. From birth. Twins can't be separated like that. We're not like other siblings. You need to understa..." She waves her gnarled hand in my face. She has a special power over the students. Maybe she really is a witch. I never believed any superstitious mumbo jumbo before, but Jade always has. I'm starting to see why.

"Frankly, I don't even care which one of you is expelled. All I know is that the two of you are a bad influence on each other, furthermore on a lot of the students at this school. Yes. Let's wait until you mother arrives. I'm going to give her the honour of choosing which one of you bears the punishment." The corners of her mouth tilt into something resembling a smile, though her eyes remain cruel and without remorse. It's almost comical. If I had to pick an actor to play the biggest cliché of a villain, she would be my choice.

As if Mrs. Heckles has performed some sort of a summoning spell, the door opens and in steps the woman in charge of our fate.

GEORGINA

I can't believe those two. In trouble again. Smoking weed at school. Where did I go wrong? I received the call half an hour ago and had to drop everything at the office to come in and see that horrible woman for the third time this month. Robert insisted on coming along to provide support. I never have to ask him for anything. He always knows when I need him. I watch his ruggedly handsome face as he drives us to the school. He has his father's eyes. The same strong jaw and large nose. Everything else he gets from me. Well, not everything. He flashes me a reassuring smile that everything will be alright. That's all I need. Simply to be sitting next to him is enough to calm my fragile nerves. What would I ever do without him?

"Are you ready, Mom?" his soothing low voice swims into my ears. It sends a shudder down the nape of my neck that trails all the way to my knees. It makes me feel weak and strong at the same time. He has that effect on me. I smooth the bottom of my dark blue dress with white polka dots. The flesh-coloured pantyhose adds a luxurious silkiness to my thick legs. They give me a double dose of confidence as I step out of the family car.

I wasn't always this confident. As a young girl, I hated my figure. I always struggled to find clothes that fit me properly. My breasts were even bigger than the adults when I was still just a teenager. Now as a woman of forty-eight, they're obscenely enormous. My ass is equally extreme in proportions. The way I first met Ethan almost twenty-five years ago was the first time in my life I had a shred of self-confidence. He made me feel beautiful and special. I never imagined our fairy tale romance would end so bitterly.

I take Robert's hand as we walk the hallways of his own ghost land. He too, had a difficult time at school. The twenty-three-year-old man by my side is a marvel in comparison to the troubled teen he had been when he attended West Temple High. Mrs. Heckles wasn't the principal back then. She was Robert's English teacher and she made his life a living hell. The act of him returning to his place of torment truly shows his dedication to me and it burns my heart. I don't deserve such a faithful son. He amazes me every single day. I couldn't ask for a better man by my side.

He strides up to the office with an air of confidence that I know he is putting on, as if to prove something his former nemesis. He doesn't even bother knocking. He throws the door open and stands triumphantly to face her. God, I love his inner strength.

ROBERT

Of all the things I'd rather not have to do, this takes the cake. I never thought I'd see Mrs. Heckles again in my life, yet here I am, standing behind her office door. The familiar scent of old books and the harsh fluorescent lighting take me back--back to when I was an unruly teen at this very school. The room feels as sterile, as unwelcoming, as it ever did. Nothing's changed, except me. Or so I tell myself.

Of course, I'm only here because of Mom. The things I do for her... No amount of money or pleading could have dragged me here for anything else. I can already feel the weight of the conversation we're about to have, and I'm not sure I'm ready for it. But here I am, with the woman I trust most by my side. Together, we can face any challenge--no matter how uncomfortable--with courage and tenacity.

FUCK IT. Something inside me snaps, and before I can think, I force the door open with such force that I can feel Mom's incredible eyes on me--gazing at me with a mix of fear and warmth.

"Well, well," the decrepit old beast spits in my direction. I can actually see her saliva fly through the air and watch as it trails towards the cheap old carpet. I'm almost surprised it doesn't burn through the floor. I remember when we used to call her the cobra I remember when we used to call her Queen Cobra. One time she heard me and a couple of buddies joking about it and we all got detention for a month. It was worth it just to see her vile face contort and wince the way she always made everyone else feel on a daily basis. "Robert Jenkins, the boy who cried cobra," she continues, spraying her fluids all over her desk. "You're all grown up now I see. I hope you've finally managed to control that temper of yours," she chuckles to herself in amusement.

"My son doesn't have to listen to your snide remarks anymore, Mrs. Heckles. I suggest you keep to the matter at hand," Mom says in her sweet, high-pitched voice. It's less than intimating, yet it's layered with a tone of warning anyone would be foolish to ignore. The old cobra turns her head disdainfully at my mother and adjust her position before speaking. She clears her raspy throat.

"Mrs. Jenkins..."

"Just call me Georgina."

"Very well," she says disinterestedly. "This isn't the first time these two have broken the rules. They never attend religious studies..."

"That's all a bunch of made-up crap," Jack chimes in. Mrs. Heckles pretends not to notice his interruption, though I can see the irritation on her face. Her left eye pulsates when she gets angry. We used to try our best to get that same reaction from her when I was in her class. Whoever was able to get her to twitch was the king for the day. She rearranges her glasses carefully, no doubt stalling for time while she decided what she was going to say and trying her best to make it as painful and unpleasant as possible. That's just the way she is. A miserable old bitch.

"They skip classes. They're disrespectful of their teachers and even some of the other students. Now they're hanging out behind the football field singing Puff the Magic Dragon."

Jade breaks down, laughing hysterically. Jack soon follows. I don't think they understand the reference, but they find it hilarious all the same. I almost burst out myself, but I'm trying so hard to keep things professional. Mom shoots them both a stern glance and they regress back to their usual mischievous smirks. I shake my head in disbelief. It's uncanny just how similar they are sometimes. The only thing separating them is their gender.

"I fail to see the humor in this," Mrs. Heckles gasps. "And this is the problem. They have no respect for anyone or anything. Well, I'm not tolerating it anymore. Mrs. Jenkins, you have a choice." Mom's expression shifts; her brows lift slightly and she leans slightly into my chest, as if she can draw strength from me and use it against our enemy. "One of them must go. I will not have them plotting together in my school. Is that clear? Either Jack or Jade must be expelled and since you're the one responsible for bringing them up, I'm going to let you choose whose head falls to the guillotine."

JADE

The drive home is heavy with silence, each unspoken word adding to the tension between us. Mom's grip on the wheel tightens, her knuckles white, jaw clenched in resolve. We've let her down again--but this time, she had to make an impossible choice. She knew that if we were separated, neither Jack nor I would ever forgive her. That option was unthinkable. So, she was left with two choices: find a new school for both of us, or, worst of all... plead for mercy. Judging by the fury in Robert's eyes, the latter was off the table. But Mom and our older brother shared a language that didn't need words. Their glances spoke volumes, just like Jack and I. Our family has never been 'normal. It was as if Robert sensed her intentions without needing to be told--and the thought of it sickened him. In the blink of an eye, his composure faltered. Mom's eyes silently urged him to let it go--there was no other choice. We watched as she implored Mrs. Heckles for one more chance, the desperation in her plea unmistakable. The sight of it drew a satisfied grin from the old hag, and I knew the tactic had worked. The only way to win against someone who holds all the power is to give them what they crave: a sense of undeniable triumph. We had forced our mother to surrender her dignity, all for the sake of our education. The thought of it makes me feel like the worst daughter in the world. I can tell Jack feels the same way as we sit in the back of the car, bracing ourselves for whatever punishment awaits us at home. What will it be, I wonder? Grounded? Almost certainly. No phones? Definitely. No gaming? That's where it will really hit us. Jack and I share a passion for online gaming. We're an unstoppable duo. People tremble when they see our names. I'm Bluebloodeater and Jack is aliensbane.

We step into the house, trepidation filling the air as we walk to our doom. Mom places her hands on her hips and clears her throat. She always does that before she's about to say something unpleasant.

"There will be no leaving the house, unless I give you permission."

Check.

"I'll be taking both your phones."

Double Check.

"And..."

"We know," I say, rolling my eyes in the process. "No gaming. PC, PlayStation or anything."

"Not even board games," Robert pipes up. I shoot him a grimace, and Jack echoes my sentiments.

"Hey Rob," my twin growls, "who made you boss?"

"Yeah," I add, feeding off my brother's energy, "You're not Dad, you know?"

Jack gives me an approving nod that warms my heart. Don't worry, my ally. I've always got you.

"I did," Mom says, taking both of us off guard. "Your brother is the man of this house, and you will respect what he says and do what he asks. Is that clear?"

We both nod solemnly.

"Now, off to bed. Both of you. Get out of my sight."

I've never seen her so upset before. At least, not that I can remember. If anything, it's not anger--it's disappointment. I feel horrible. I need to find a way to make it up to her. Tomorrow, Jack and I will brainstorm something. We'll figure out a way to make things right.

GEORGINA

Those two will send me to an early grave. How will they ever survive in the real world? If they don't change their attitudes soon, they're doomed. They've got the same problems my brother had. Tyler was always a stubborn smart-ass. He'd push our parents' buttons on a daily basis. He got expelled from more than one school. By some strange stroke of luck, though, he somehow managed to carve out a semi-normal life for himself. He lives in Amsterdam now, has his own business, even has a family. I wouldn't call his marriage stable, but remarkably, he's still married. Maybe they're not doomed. Maybe they'll land on their own two feet... or four. If Tyler can do it, anyone can. My thoughts trail off as I hear someone knocking on my bedroom door.

"Mom? Can I come in?" My heart flutters slightly, as it always does when I hear his velvet-smooth voice.

"Of course, honey," I say, my voice carrying a slight lilt. I can't help it. When I'm with Robert, something about him brings out a side of me I usually keep hidden. He makes me feel young in ways that are hard to explain, and I can't help but love him for it.

He steps into the room, his presence filling the space in a way that both grounds and unsettles me. My hands graze the edges of my dress, my fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary, pulling it down slowly, deliberately. The motion is fluid, almost instinctive--my body angled just enough to catch the light streaming through the window, casting shadows that dance on the floor. I can sense his gaze, the way it follows every movement, every shift of fabric.

"Are you... okay?" he asks, his voice careful, as if weighing each word.

"I'm fine," I reply too quickly, the words not quite settling right. "I just... I don't know if they'll ever be okay. Robert, I'm so worried about them. This is how criminals get started."

"Mom?" He smirks slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting, fully aware of my tendency to overdramatize.

"Oh, I know. They'll probably be fine. I just... sometimes I think about your uncle Tyler. He turned out alright... sort of," I say, forcing a hopeful tone. His smile grows, just a little.

"Maybe in terms of money," he quips, "but he's hardly the happiest person I know."

"You know who makes me happy?" I ask, my voice light as I walk toward him, letting my movements feel natural, confident. He glances around the room, as though expecting someone else. I give him a playful tap on the arm. "You, Robert. You always know how to make me forget what's stressing me." I can feel his presence close behind me, the warmth of his breath brushing my neck. It's a simple gesture, yet it stirs something in me--something I hadn't expected. My hands instinctively touch the spot on my neck where my insecurities used to sit, the very area I once hated. It used to make me feel so old. The loose skin with a touch of wrinkles. It's funny, how the one thing I used to despise about my body is the thing he helped me embrace. It's strange, but I believe him when he says he loves it. A warmth floods through me, unexpected and gentle, as his presence lingers close behind. His breathing increases slightly and it stirs something inside me--something comforting and vulnerable all at once. The sensation is familiar yet new, and it settles in me, reminding me of the bond we share, one that's both tender and complicated. I can't help but wonder how something so simple could make my heart race while also leaving me feeling unsettled. He moves his hands to my pantyhose-clad thighs. I know how much they drive him crazy, I wear them almost every single day to make him happy. "Do my legs feel nice, honey," I whisper. He moans gently in response. "They're from Milan. Very expensive, but I think they're worth it. They feel so soft and silky." He continues to run his hands all over me and I feel his lips pecking at my neck. The sensation is out of this world.

Our brief moment of serenity is shattered in an instant.

"I can't believe it!"

"We did it. We actually killed them all!" The raucous voices of my rebellious children echoing through the house like a storm breaking through the calm.

"I'll sort them out," Robert says dutifully.

"Thank you. You're an angel. I don't even want to look at them right now." He smirks, his footsteps fading as he exits the room, leaving me alone with nothing but my thoughts--fears, hopes, and dreams swirling together, unanswered.

ROBERT

"The terror twins will retake our lost kingdom!" Jack shouts, his voice full of mock triumph. Jade erupts into giggles, her laughter spilling out uncontrollably.

I take a deep breath before stepping into Jack's room. I never asked for this role. With Dad gone, it just kind of fell on me. I do it for Mom, of course. But sometimes, I miss being their friend, not their warden.

"What did we say?" I announce, my voice firm, the weight of the words hanging heavy in the air.

"I don't know. You're telling the story, bro?" Jade quips, her tone laced with playful defiance. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. These two are really testing our patience today.

"No gaming."

"Ooh," she says. "We thought you said..." She stops abruptly, the flimsy excuse forgotten mid-sentence.

"... no lion taming," Jack finishes her sentence, as twins are wont to do. The absurdity of the statement draws a light guffaw from my younger sister before they both collapse into laughter. My patience begins to fray at the edges.

"Turn it off now! Jade, go to your own room. Both of you, go to bed. Tomorrow, I'm taking your computer to Mom's office. It didn't have to be this way." I shoot them both a disappointed look as I leave his room and head back down the hallway.

I can hear the silvery tone of water in the distance as I move through the house toward my destination. Slowly and carefully, I approach Mom's bathroom, breathing in the warm steam as I get closer to the sound of light singing. I love listening to her. She could have been a professional--at least that's what I think. Mom always says I'm tone-deaf, but to my ears, she sounds like a perfect angel. The trills she uses to accent the expression of the Italian opera she is singing are exquisite. Even though I've heard her sing it a thousand times, I still can't remember what it is. Maybe I don't want to know. I like to add my own words in my head, making the song match my sentiments. She could be singing about someone she loves--someone she shouldn't love. Hell, it could even be about someone she wants to murder. Who knows? I prefer it this way--the mystery. I hope she never tells me what the words actually mean. Abruptly, I'm pulled out of my thoughts as the singing stops. Her metallic cyan eyes meet mine, burning into my soul. Her brow arches slightly, and a gentle grin forms on her lips. My eyes plead with hers, silently asking for permission. She seems to understand, and without a word, she opens the screen door to the shower, inviting me into her warm sanctuary. The steam obscures my vision. I want to see her. I need to see all of her. I can feel her fingers. Her long sharp nails dig into my hands, causing me to wince slightly. There's a desperation in her movements as though she hungers for my very soul. She leads me to her breasts. I do my best to cup them in my hands, but they're so gigantic, I would need two hands for each. They fall low, down to her full, round hips. Slowly, I rub circles around the areola, causing her to moan softly in my ear. I can feel her nipples spring out the same way my cock grows at the mere thought of her. Her soft hands massage my balls as my lips find hers. Lightening runs through our bodies as our tongues dance in the vaporous cubicle of pleasure. Her eyes draw in on mine and her alluring femininity swims into my soul. My mouth moves down to my favorite spot-maybe my second favorite. The lovely folds of her neck send the blood rushing straight to my brain as my lips cover her with love. Her moans get louder and her eyes roll back. I know the way she likes it. With remarkable strength, she pulls her heavy left breast up and guides it into my waiting mouth. I suck at her nipple the way I imagine I did when I was just her little baby. I can just fit her whole areola in my mouth as my tongue lashes around the thick dark nipples that sit inside so perfectly. As her voice gets louder, I start to get worried.

"Mom. We can't let them hear us," I say, panicked. Her face is reassuring as she lathers up her hands generously with her special orange blossom soap. She looks up at me with those piercing eyes and I feel her take me into her slick, foamy hands. It's almost unbearable. The tension that I know she's about to relieve. She enjoys keeping me on the edge though as she holds it firmly without stroking and with her other hand gently tugs my balls. My eyes plead with her to show mercy. She smiles gently while maintaining strong eye contact as she starts to pump it back and forth, slowly increasing her grip as my pulse mirrors her speed. Her eyes never leave me for one second. This must be what heaven feels like. Sadly, a grim thought enters my head. If there is a heaven, we won't be going there. My cock softens and shrivels to its former state.

"Honey. Baby. Robert, look at me," Mom's eyes are pleading with me as I lay in the warmth of her soft bosom. The pillowy folds of her womanhood threaten to swallow me whole, and yet there's no place on earth I would rather be. "Please. Robert."

Slowly, I open my eyes and look up at the woman holding me, cradling me like a newborn infant. A wave of embarrassment crashes over me, yet at the same time, I've never felt safer in my entire life. Her warm eyes glow down at me, and I catch a tear slipping down her freckled cheek.

I know her sadness. Our souls are entwined--my pain is her pain, and vice versa. The brilliant orbs of blue and green mingle, as if to say everything is alright.

"It's okay," she whispers into my ear, her warm breath sending me to a faraway place where nobody exists but us. "My baby. My darling. My Robert," she coos, stroking my hair as my cheek presses into her gentle flesh. "You always worry about me and my problems. Let me look after you for once, my love."

Her words puncture my heart. I can almost feel the blood rushing through my veins, as if her love is spilling into me. I'm on the edge of bursting with every emotion at once. Everything about her is perfect to me--her sweet, soft voice, her delicate, loving maternal side, her body, her beautiful smile. I love this woman so much, it hurts. She kisses my forehead with so much tenderness it brings tears to my eyes. I know she understands what's going through my head. "It's not your fault," she hums. "Sometimes things happen for a reason. I know you don't believe in destiny and things like that. I never did either until I realized just how much you mean to me, my love." Her angelic voice lifts me out of my slump and I can feel my energy returning rapidly. That's not the only thing. I'm sure she can feel my erection growing against her wide hips. Her smile returns and she peers down, hopefully. But I don't want to feel pleasure right now. All I want this very moment is to feed from the fountain of her nourishment.

GEORGINA

As I hold my toned, handsome son in my arms, I can feel his return. I relish the thought of his huge dick. I have no idea where it came from. It certainly wasn't from his father. Either way, it's mine and I have to have it. But he has other ideas. He wants my breasts. The boulders I carry around all day long that used to make me miserable and self-conscious. He loves them. They are his to own. I give them to him. I want him to have them whenever he needs them. They are the source of his strength. When we're apart, we're both weak and miserable. When we're together, we're unstoppable. I understand his need and lower the straps on my floral nightgown to allow him access to his birthright. I ease my right breast into his waiting mouth. The right is his favorite. I know it is because it's the one to which he pays the most attention. He moans deeply as his strong jaw clamps around my engorged nipples sending me to paradise. I caress his head as he lovingly suckles. The slurping sounds are music to my ears. His tender lips send waves of pleasure through me. His hot breath on my chest is like a drug to me. I crave it all the time. If I could keep him here in my bed for all eternity, I would.

"Suck them, baby. They're yours. Mommy's special boy. Keep them in your mouth all night. I want you to fall asleep in my arms." He looks up at me with those dark blue eyes he inherited from Ethan. They suit my lovely son much more. Somehow, they accentuate the deep dimples in his cheeks. The effect is striking, especially when he hasn't shaved for a couple of days. The stubble itches my skin and yet I enjoy the feeling it gives me. It's like a jolt of lightening every time his head moves slightly. This coupled with his hungry mouth is almost enough to take me to the edge. But strangely enough, I don't want to have sex right now. A rare occurrence with this handsome Adonis. All I want is to bring him comfort and ease his pain. This is the best way I know how to do it. The fact that I enjoy it so much is just the cherry on top. My thoughts are starting to get hazy as my eyes grow heavy as the repetitive sound of his sucking mouth delivers me to sleep.

CLUNK!

What the hell is that noise?

CLUNK! CLUNK!

My eyes reluctantly open. Robert is still resting his head on my bosom. My nipple is resting right in front of his face, almost poking out his eye. He doesn't notice though. He is still fast sleep, looking as peaceful as a puppy dog.

CLUNK!

"What the hell is that noise?" I yell across the house.

Silence.

"Jade! Jack! I asked you a question!"

"Sorry, Mom," I hear Jade squeak in the distance. I let out a deep breath, replace my breasts back into the nightie and cover my exposed cleavage with a simple maroon gown. Furiously, I storm down the hallway in search of the disturbance.

"What on earth are you both doing? Your brother and I are still trying to sleep." Jack and Jade exchange a curious look before one of them starts to speak.

"It's a surprise," Jade announces in her usual matter of fact way. A sly smile appears on Jack's face.

"Sleeping until nine o'clock. Jeez. Hey, Jade, can you imagine if we did that. Doesn't Mom always say we can't lie around all day?"

"Yes, Jack. I believe I've heard her say that before. I guess the rules only apply to us and not to the matriarch or the golden child." They erupt into hysterics which fuels my anger even more.

"Now you listen to me. Both of you. If you don't change your attitudes really soon, there are going to be drastic consequences. Do I make myself..." Suddenly Robert enters the room, wearing the gown I bought him last year for Christmas.

"Mom. I've got an idea," he smirks. My interest is officially piqued. What dastardly plan does he have to teach those little scoundrels some discipline?

"Remember Grandma was saying she needs someone to help clean out here garage?" I take his meaning and I like what I'm hearing. Not only will this teach them a lesson, it will also give us some much-needed alone time.

"What a great idea. I think you two are perfect candidates for the job." Jack steps forward in meek display of protest.

"You said we're grounded. So technically..."

"... we're not allowed to leave the house," Jade finishes, to my great irritation. I place my hands on my hips preparing to deliver the finishing blow, when Robert steals the limelight to my great satisfaction.

"No. We said you're not allowed to leave the house unless we give you permission."

"So?" Jade puts in.

"So, we're giving you permission." Robert laughs and I join him. He's laughing so hard, he has to lean on me for support. Jade and Jack exchange another furtive look to one another before slumping away to the other end of the house. "I'll take you there in about twenty minutes. Be ready."

JACK

This is worse than being sent to Mrs. Heckle's office. Together, we ride to our doom.

Jade doesn't seem to be too concerned. She's gazing dreamily out the window, staring wistfully at the clouds and the people passing by. Robert's face is expressionless as he drives us to the hellscape that is our grandmother's house.

"Why so glum, bro," he taunts me. His smile is making me sick and If I was just a little bit older, I'd sock him on in the face. "Come on. It's not that bad. Grandma always has lots of candy and she's got a pool." Jade's attention is drawn in on our conversation.

"Robert, we're not 5 years old. You can't bribe us with childish things like candy and a swimming pool," she says with a deep frown on her face. Our brother furrows his brow.

"Oh, sorry. I forgot you're both too cool for everything. I don't like swimming," he mocks Jade surprisingly well. I almost laugh before quickly realizing she would kill me for my betrayal. The car pulls into Granda's driveway. "Have fun," Robert mocks us as he speeds off into the distance.

With our heads staring directly at the floor, we walk towards Grandma's door.

"Jack! Jade!" she pounces on us. Jeez. Old people really have nothing going on in their lives. Imagine getting so excited by two angry teenagers turning up on your doorstep. "Are you both hungry?" She hurries around the house, looking like someone who has bees buzzing all around her, trying to swat them off. Jade looks at me and rolls her eyes. I return the gesture and she smiles as a reward.

"Look, Grandma. We're happy to visit you. We really are. But we're both kind of tired after the busy school week. Do you think maybe we can skip the garage for today? We can come back another day and do it. We want to do it. Truly. But..." I trail off. Lost for words. Jade comes to my rescue as usual.

"... if we do it today, we probably won't do a very good job, owing to our tiredness and all." We both look up at Grandma, hoping our clever ruse works. This quickly turns into disappointment as she shakes her head with a gentle smile and sad eyes.

"Children, that won't do. I promised your mother that I would help to teach you both that there are ramifications for your actions and I intend to keep that promise." Jade and I both swallow deep into our throats. "Be good children and help your poor Grandma clean out her garage." She starts to walk off into another room. We can still hear her muttering to herself. "If my Tyler was here, he'd set things right. But this is the only option for a poor old woman like me. He has his wife and his child. I have... no one." Her sobbing echoes throughout the whole house. Jade looks amused but unfazed by the sudden outburst. I'm a little surprised myself. Grandma always used to be so upbeat. This is very unlike her. I start to feel bad for not wanting to help her. I let out a deep sigh and start grabbing boxes and rifling through their contents. I can feel Jade's eyes on me.

"Don't tell me you fell for that," she laughs condescendingly.

"What do you mean?" I ask, completely perplexed.

"That was obviously a trick. You men are so weak in the face of a crying woman."

"How the hell do you know?" I cry.

"Oh, believe me. I know." What the hell is that supposed to mean? Who is this girl and what has she done to the sister I thought I always knew better than anyone else?

ROBERT

As I click my key in the front door my nose catches a strange scent. Apples. Is Mom making her famous apple pie? I will die of happiness if there's a steaming hot pie cooling on the window sill. No, wait... it's pears. Pear pie? Why not? As I stride through the kitchen my giddiness turns to disappointment. There's no pie. Then what is that delicious aroma? In another second my question is answered and my disappointment quickly turns into elation. Mom is standing before me, wearing a black lace bodysuit, cut out very high in the waist. It hugs her curves to perfection and miraculously manages to hold her heavy breasts in place. Her deep cleavage invites my wide eyes. The intricate lacework is not lost on me as some woman assume men not to notice such details. With my mother, I notice every minute detail. Nothing passes my notice. She gives me a knowing smile and walks towards me, swaying her hips ever so slowly, accentuating her womanly figure with ease and refinement. I try to play it cool and act suave. Suddenly all of my flimsy willpower vanishes and in a flash I find my lips pressed firmly on hers. Her hands wander to my biceps and she rubs them with fervorous passion. She loves my arms that I work so hard to maintain for her benefit. The only reason I ever work out is to impress her. I decide it's a good time to put them to good use and lift her into my arms. Her head falls back into my chest and she closes her eyes as if she's deep inside a dream. I carry her through the threshold into her bedroom. With Jack and Jade out of the house temporarily, we at last have some time to enjoy each other's company for once.

JADE

Jack is such a wimp sometimes. I wish he would stand up to people a bit more. Sometimes he surprises me. There's some fire in him, but it's easily extinguished. He's more of a joker. I'm the trouble maker. I watch him as he continues to pore over Grandma's old junk. Sweat is pouring all over his face. I didn't realize it was a warm day. I peer outside the garage window and notice the sun in its full bloom, radiating all over the street. I turn back to my poor brother as he dutifully fulfills the task at hand.

"Don't bother helping or anything," he snarks in my direction.

"Okay. I won't," I chuckle to myself, regarding my own wit and something truly spectacular. He doesn't seem to think so.

"Come on, Jade. Don't leave me to do everything."

"Jack, we don't have to do anything. Don't you get it?" He looks at me and tilts his head the way that always does when he's unsure of himself. I adore it actually. He has Mom's brilliant blue/green eyes. Same as me. His very tanned skin from being outside all the time brings out the piercing effect of his eyes even more. I wish I could tan the way he does. I just get freckles. It isn't fair.

"That's not fair," he protests, sitting on one of the boxes. "Since we got here you've looked at one box and you've spent the rest of your time looking out the window. Meanwhile I..." I stop him with my hand on his mouth.

"Okay. Just shut the hell up, please." He shoots me an irresistible smile and I can't help but return it. We laugh and playfully tickle one another until we're both out of breath. "Alright. Let's do this. Hand me that box, will you."

JACK

As I continue to go through box after box, my patience starts to wear thin. I always try to keep things entertaining for my sister and I know that she appreciates it, but right now, I'm failing at that task. We're both bored out of our brains. I'm about to tell Jade that we should call it quits for the day when I notice her in the far vorner of the garage. She's examining a small box with a curious expression on her face.

"What did you find over there? Treasure or something?" I ask, hoping that her response will reward us somehow. I imagine a rolls of bills, some rare diamond that we can pawn. Anything to take away the drudgery of this horrible day. To my disappointment she holds up an item of clothing. Women. I don't understand them. Which is strange considering I understand my sister better than anyone else in the whole world. She studies the item with keen eyes, her lashes blinking rapidly. What is so fascinating about a stupid dress?

"Do you think Mom ever wore this?" she asks sheepishly. I've never seen her act like this before. It's almost as if she's nervous or something.

"How should I know," I retort brazenly. What's gotten into her?

"Do you dare me to try it on?"

I gulp. My body is frozen. How do I answer that? She has a way of flipping my brain around sometimes. I think she enjoys toying with me. It both irritates and amuses me. Right now, though, all it does is confuse me.

"Well." Her tone demands a response. I scrape the insides of my brain, trying to think of the best answer to such an awkward question.

"Yes. I dare you."

Her eyes lift up slowly, her mouth turns ever so slightly. She's toying with me again. "You're a dirty perv," she giggles.

"Am not. I just..." SHIT! I don't know what to say. I feel like such an idiot. I'm not a perv. How can she say that? How can I prove that I'm not. "I swear to god."

"Since when did you become religious... perv."

She's enjoying herself. At least I accomplished that. Turn around," she says, before unzipping her jeans and ruffling fabric within my earshot. I turn my head ever so slightly before I catch a glimpse of something I've never noticed before. She's beautiful. Her porcelain skin with light freckles covering most of her legs and arms is absolutely breathtaking. She unclips her purple bra and then it happens. The enormity of her chest becomes suddenly apparent to my wild eyes. It's almost as if I've just woken up and I'm seeing the world how it really is for the first time. They jiggle and drop to her bellybutton. Her nipples are a pale pink like a grapefruit, yet her breasts are as big as watermelons. Have I been blind this whole time? It's absurd.

"Hey!" she snaps. "What did I day? Turn around."

I reluctantly oblige, but the picture remains in my head. If I could paint this would be my masterpiece. I would spend hours working on it. I would purchase the finest brushes, oils and paints from exotic markets, use the most luxurious paper I could find. I would work on it for hours a day, never sleeping. Not stopping until I had covered every perfect detail of her remarkable beauty. I never want to forget this image. I want to see it forever. I want to admire it up close and rub her skin with my... "Jack!" she takes me out of my daydream. "What do you think?" I slowly turn around, not sure if what I'm about to see will scare me or thrill me. The only thing I know is, once I look upon the sun, I will never be the same again.

GEORGINA

My son's eyes wander over my body, taking in every curve of my voluptuous attributes. His thirst fuels my desire. I want him to need me. I need him to want me. I want. I won't ever give him up. My brain is getting so worked up, I can't even think straight. All I know is I don't care if it's wrong. He's old enough to make up his own mind. If society doesn't accept that... FUCK THEM!

I twirl my body around the bed as he stands in front of me. I want him to take in every part of me. I love the way he looks at my breasts, my ass, my big thighs. He's practically drooling at the mouth like a rabid dog at this point. This is the part I love the most. When his animal side comes out in full force.

"Mom," he squeaks out, his body overthrown with desperate need, "you're so beautiful, it hurts." My breath escapes me at his words. I need him more than oxygen right now. He finds my ass and rubs the cheeks with his strong veiny hands. Those veins, they drive me crazy. We kiss madly, almost tearing off each other's faces. I smack his face with my breasts one at a time, back and forth. I know how much he loves to feel my soft wobbly flesh. Predictably, I can feel his cock harden to its full length as it pokes into my ribcage. I need him right now. As if on command, he fulfils his duty. He carefully slides the bottom of my bodysuit to the side and teases my clit with the light purple head of his thick, long cock. I want it so much. I want him to fill me with his love stick. He continues to taunt me, each flick to the left, to the right, bringing me closer and closer to breaking point.

"Honey," I plead. "Please." He nods, a very serious look on his face as if the task at hand commanded all of his attention. Then, it finally enters my moist center. He mercifully starts slowly. By now we both know each other's bodies inside and out. He knows that his size is challenging for me in the first stage. His father was almost half his size and thickness. The only problem I had there was a severe lack of passion. Ethan was a lot of things. A hard worker. A well-respected member of the community. Quite a dull person to live with. Robert shares his father's strong work ethic. Everyone respects and loves him when they get to know him. One thing about Robert... he's never dull. A sharp twinge hits my wetness and singes the way a hot sword reacts after receiving a pounding from a steel anvil and being plunged into cool water. Then the relief begins. Half of his length is now inside me. My pussy adjusts to his thickness and swallows the rest bit by bit, after each thrust. My lips are tingling with pleasure and it spreads all over my body. My nipples are aching for his mouth. But I don't need to say a word. He takes them into his mouth and sucks them as hard as he can. His pounding gets faster and faster, pushing my pleasure point to its maximum capacity. I'm worried I may faint. It hits me over and over again, filling me to the brim. I need to taste it.

"Robert. Cover my face. Please, honey," I beg him the same way I begged Mrs. Heckles not to expel my other children. The same urgency escapes my lips. But this is for him and me. Only for us. He grunts with pleasure and unloads all over me. Long ropes of his essence drape my face and lips, cover my nose and drip from my chin. With my trembling finger, I scoop it all off and taste every part without wasting a drop. It tastes heavenly. The flavor of the man I love swirls around my tastebuds as I close my eyes to savor the fruits of our labors. I snuggle deep into his hard-chiselled physique. He kisses me on the forehead and we drift off lazily to sleep.