I woke up from Bo climbing into my bed. “Hey”, I said, a little groggy. I shuffled a bit to make room for her and turned on my side to face her. “Hey”, she replied.

She’d lifted up the blanket before getting on the bed and was now tucking herself in. She turned on her side as well and shone a smile in my face.

“Back in your pyjamas?” I asked.

“Yeah. Why wear something other than your most comfy clothes on a Sunday morning?” she said.

“You have a point”, I conceded, and paused. “Why are we talking so quietly?”

“I don’t know”, she said, still talking quietly. We giggled.

Bo had a small towel wrapped around her hair. She was emanating a warm glow and a mesmerizing smell of shampoo and soap.

“You look like a newly minted penny”, I told her.

“Thanks”, she said, beaming like one. She snuggled up closer until her face was just an inch from mine. She put a hand on my arm.

I really wanted to kiss her but I was too afraid to initiate. I was scared of how intense my feelings were getting when she was next to me. The sentence formed in my mind for the first time. I have a crush on her. I have a crush on my sister.

“Are you okay?”, Bo said.

“Yeah”, I said. Did she see it in my face?, I thought and felt silly.

I gathered up as much courage as I could muster and asked her, “Could I get a kiss?” My voice sounded strange to me. “Hmmm”, Bo said, making a serious face. Then she smiled and said, “Why, yes.” She leaned in and gave me a soft little kiss on the lips, then moved back.

I said, “Wait, you forgot your change”, and kissed her back. I let my lips linger on hers. They’re so soft, I thought. My heart was turning upside down in my chest. I think this is what they call butterflies in your stomach, but it feels heavier than that. It’s almost making me nauseous.

When I moved away from her, it felt like minutes had passed even though the kiss had only lasted for maybe three seconds. Bo touched her forehead to mine.

“It feels so cozy and nice lying next to you. I really enjoyed the bath, too”, she said.

“Same here”, I responded.

Does she have a crush on me too? Would that mean I’m bad for corrupting her? Or is this just sisterly to her? I didn’t know what seemed worse.

A soft gurgling sound disrupted the quiet from underneath the blanket. Bo’s eyes widened. I chuckled.

“Was that your tummy?” I asked.

“Yeah. I think I’m hungry”, she said.

The sound repeated itself, but this time, it was my stomach that made it. Bo and I looked into each other’s eyes, trying to keep it together. I said, “I think our tummies are having a conversation”, laughter bubbling up beneath my words. Bo let out a chuckle, and that sealed our fate.

We looked at each other for another second, then it just started streaming out of our pores. We held each other through a convulsive fit of laughter, spurred on by the grimaces we were making as we laughed. Bo put on a low voice, still bubbling, and said, “Why have these girls not fed us yet?”, making us burst into another raucous fit.

“Let’s eat some breakfast then”, I suggested once we quieted down.

“Sounds good”, Bo said. “You get up first, though.”

I extricated myself from our hug, slipped out of the blanket and got up. Behind me, I heard Bo make a sound.

“You’re not wearing pants”, she remarked.

“Oh yeah”, I said, looking down at myself dumbly.

I was shocked to see that my panties were so damp that a small dark spot showed on the outside. That had never happened before. For a second, I even thought I’d peed myself during our laughter fit, but I would have noticed. This was definitely a result of my horniness. Thankfully I was facing away from Bo.

“I was all hot after the bath, so I didn’t bother putting them on before my nap”, I told her casually as I put on my pyjama pants that had been lying on the floor.

“Oh”, Bo just said.

I turned around to face her. She was still snuggled up beneath the blanket.

“I guess I’ll get up, too”, she said sadly. She freed herself from the blanket and sat up.

In that moment, inspiration struck me. I stepped back to the bed and leaned down. Putting one arm underneath Bo’s knees and the other one around her back, I wrapped her in my hold and picked her up in one fell swoop.

“Woah!” Bo yelled surprised, slinging an arm around my shoulder for support. “What are you doing?” She started giggling.

“Picking you up”, I said and started carrying her around my room.

“Let me down”, she demanded loudly in between giggles.

“Sure thing”, I said.

I walked back to my bed and threw Bo onto the mattress. She shrieked.

“Hey! What was that for?” She tried to say it sternly, but she was still grinning.

“I thought you said, ‘Let me down.’” I shrugged.

“Not like that!” she exclaimed. And yet, scrambling back into a sitting position, she raised her arms up and said, “Again, again!”

“Okay”, I said, laughing.

Bo wrapped her arm around my shoulder again as I picked her up. She was a little heavier than I’d imagined, but I enjoyed feeling her weight on me. I loved knowing that I was strong enough to carry her. I could pick her up anytime I like, I thought.

“Throw me on the bed again”, she asked.

“Nope. Got other plans”, I told her.

I walked out of my room into the little hallway that led to the staircase, stopping in front of our parents’ room.

“Can’t carry you down the stairs. Let’s go have breakfast”, I told Bo and set her down.

“Okay. Thanks for the ride, Lees”, she said and skipped downstairs ahead of me.

Going down the stairs, I was very aware of the dampness between my legs. I’d only come some twenty minutes earlier, but I was already feeling needy again.

Dad was in the kitchen, making himself some coffee. Next to him, Bo was putting a loaf of bread on a cutting board and started to saw off some slices. The clock said 9:30 now.

“Morning”, Dad said. He scratched the beard stubble on his neck. “You girls were making quite the ruckus up there.”

“Morning, Dad”, I said. “Did we wake you up?”

“Nah. I’ve been awake for half an hour, but I got up when I started hearing you guys. What were you up to?”, he asked.

“Oh, just playing”, I said. Bo looked up from her cutting board and gave Dad a smile.

“We took a bath earlier. Then we cuddled. And then Lisa started carrying me around and dropped me on the bed”, she explained.

Dad looked at her confused for a second, but then thankfully, the water for his coffee began to boil and for a moment, it was too loud for conversation.

Bo put away the big bread knife, got a butter knife from the drawer and checked the fridge for spreads. I made myself busy too, thinking it might distract Dad. I opened the cupboard, took out the Nutella and gave it to Bo who was in the process of spreading butter on the bread slices.

Dad poured the boiling water from the electric kettle into the coffee pot next to me. I watched the water stream over the ground coffee powder, filling up the paper filter. I’d tried coffee before and hated the taste, but in a strange dichotomy, the fresh smell of it was amazing. When all the water had seeped through the filter, Dad poured some more over the grounds that had gathered on the sides. Observing this ritual never lost its fascination to me. Sometimes I’d perform it myself, making coffee for Mom and Dad just because I enjoyed the process.

“Aren’t you a little old for taking baths with your sister?” Dad asked me.

“I don’t know”, I said, feeling queasy. “It was fun. I only stayed in with her for ten minutes or so.”

“She crowned me Princess Foamy”, Bo chimed in.

“And then you guys cuddled?” Dad asked.

“Yeah”, Bo said dreamily. “We gave each other kisses.” Dad looked alarmed. I felt my stomach turning.

“Sisters don’t kiss each other”, he said.

“No, Dad, like this”, I said quickly.

I turned around to Bo and gave her a kiss on the forehead, praying to any gods that still loved me that Bo would get it and play along. Bo looked at me confused for a few seconds, then she giggled, got up on her tiptoes and kissed me on the forehead, too.

“Like that”, she said.

“Oh, okay”, Dad said, seemingly okay with it. He got a mug from the cupboard, lifted the filter off the pot and poured himself some coffee.

I took a deep breath, relieved that Bo had played along. She could have just told him it was my idea, I thought. She knows Dad doesn’t approve of kissing, but she saved my ass. She probably doesn’t wanna lose this, either.

Bo was done with the bread. Some slices had Nutella on them, some jam, some cheese. She put them on plates while I filled two glasses with milk.

We took our breakfast to the living room and sat on the table. Dad sat down on the couch next to Mom who was still reading her book.

There was a newspaper on the table next to me, and I flipped through it as I ate my bread. I found an article that got me excited.

“You guys!” I said. “The outdoor pool opens next Saturday!”

“Ohh”, Bo said, turning to Mom and Dad. “Can we go?”

“Oh cool”, Mom said and smiled. “Yeah, let’s go. Maybe we should get annual tickets this year?”

The outdoor pool was a large pool on a hill one town over. We’d started going there the previous summer after moving over from another town with its own outdoor pool the year before, and all four of us loved it. Dad looked up from his coffee.

“How much are they?” he said.

“I’m gonna call public services tomorrow and find out”, Mom said.

“Nice”, Bo and I said in tandem. We looked at each other and high-fived across the table. Mom laughed.

“Let’s hope the weather’s good on Saturday”, she said.

Bo and I were in the kitchen putting our plates and glasses in the dishwasher when the phone rang. Bo went over to the lobby to pick it up and talked to someone for a moment, excited. When I got into the lobby, Bo went over to the living room door with the phone in her hand and asked our parents, “Can I go visit Rebecca?” Mom and Dad both said “sure”. Bo smiled brightly and said into the phone, “Lemme just get dressed and I’ll come over. … Okay, see you!”

I smiled as Bo skipped upstairs. Rebecca was her best friend, the same age as Bo, and they would probably hang out together all day. This meant alone time for me, and I had a good idea about what I was gonna do with it.

“I’m gonna be in my room”, I told Mom and Dad.

“Computer?” Dad said without looking up, sounding like he knew the answer already.

“Yep”, I said, thrilled to be lying.

“Have fun”, he said, unimpressed.

“Thanks”, I said as I was already turning around to the staircase.

In my room, I saw that Bo had left the door to her room open a bit. I sat on the bed, from where I could see Bo taking off her pyjama top. The pants were already gone, so she was in her panties.

Even from behind, the view sent a shiver down my spine. I cupped the crotch of my pyjamas and felt my wet panties pressed to my pussy. Absentmindedly, I started to slowly caress myself. My pussy felt warm and slick underneath.

She put on clothes and disappeared from my view. I picked up a CD from the shelf next to my bed and pretended to be looking at it. Bo came into my room with a bag over her shoulder and closed the door behind her, looking rushed.

„See you later, Lisa“, Bo said.

“Bye bye”, I said. I smiled and waved at her, and off she skidded.

I heard her stop halfway down the corridor, then walk back to my door a little more slowly. She stood in the doorway and looked at me uncertainly.

“Yeah?”, I said.

“Nevermind”, she said and shook her head like she was shaking something off. “I love you, Lees.”

“I love you, too, Bo”, I said. She smiled and blew me a kiss. I touched my hand to my cheek, but Bo was already turning around and ran off again.

I waited till I heard her arrive downstairs, then I languorously stripped out of my PJ bottoms and sat on my bed. Down to my shirt and panties, I leaned against the pillow with my legs spread.

I looked at the wet spot on my panties in awe. It had grown in size considerably. I touched my crotch with the tips of my fingers and watched as even more wetness oozed into the material. My pussy felt hot and sensitive.

I massaged the panties into my slit. They were drenched already, but I loved playing with my pussy in this indirect way. The sensations were dampened but delicious.

Feeling naughty, I put the fingertips of both my hands just inside the hem of the panties and pulled my outer pussy lips apart. My panties settled in place between them.

I used two fingers of one hand to keep pushing the crotch into my cavity, which caused the panties to tighten and stretch all around me. It also produced soft squishy sounds, which sounded dirty and inappropriate and so very hot.

With my other hand, I softly circled the panties right over my clit. With my pussy pried open, my clit was exposed to the material now. I enjoyed how delicate the sensation was with the cotton between my fingers and my flesh.

I need to smell them, I thought. I hooked both of my thumbs into the waistband, lifted my butt off the bed and slowly began pulling down my panties. The crotch clung to my pussy. When it came off, it made a soft squelching sound. A few thin strands of liquid-y stuff stretched out between my pussy and my panties. I had the absurd association of melted cheese stretching between a fork and a pile of hot pasta.

I took the panties off all the way and brought the crotch to my face. It was absolutely soaked, covered in a glistening layer of my fluids. The girls online call this pussy juice, I remembered. I held the gusset underneath my nostrils and breathed in my scent. I almost fainted.

In a way, the smell was reminiscent of pee, but it was much wilder, sexier, dirtier. This is what my lust smells like, I thought, my horniness, my womanhood. I inhaled deeply. The scent turned me on beyond belief. I’m basically smelling my own pussy like it’s right in front of my face. The image made me quiver.

I looked at the gusset one more time, drenched with my pussy juice, and with an eerie sense of need, I knew I had to taste it. I stretched out my tongue, and before I knew what I was doing, I gave the crotch a broad lick from the bottom to the top like it was a cone of ice cream.

I knew right then and there that I was addicted to it. My mouth was filled with the taste of my pussy’s arousal. It was filthy and wrong and I craved it.

Meanwhile, my pussy was crying out for attention. My pelvis felt like a hot pool of magma slowly bubbling and oozing out of me. I put my panties down on the bed beside me and slid my middle finger through my pussy folds.

My lips were so slick they made little wet sounds as I trailed my finger through them. I raised my finger up to face level and stared at it wide-eyed. It was completely coated with my juices.

Without conscious thought, I put my wet finger on my temple and daubed a trail down my cheek. I felt like a squaw putting on war paint. I slid my finger through my slit one more time and repeated the pattern on the other side. My juice felt sticky on me, and I could smell it on my face. I shuddered with how forbidden and erotic this was, amazed at how naughty and filthy I was being. My face smells like pussy, I thought.

I sunk my fingertip into my cavity. It sounded like I dipped it into a glass of jam. Probingly, I pushed it inside my vagina, feeling around for the thin membrane of my hymen, but it wasn’t there anymore. I started thinking.

It’s been a while since I stuck a finger in to check up on it, I thought. I’d read about girls losing their hymens from horse riding. Maybe I lost it when Bo and I rode ponies for her birthday three months ago. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I might have been on my period at the time, so if I’d actually bled from losing my hymen, I wouldn’t have known.

I felt my face flush with excitement. This broken-down barrier signified new possibilities.

Very slowly, I pushed my finger deeper into my pussy. At first, I felt something that wasn’t quite pain, more like pressure. Eventually though, my vagina gave and gave, and then my finger was inside me up to my third knuckle. I stared at my hand in awe, picturing my finger inside my pussy.

I took some deep breaths. My pussy was so tight around my finger I thought I could feel it contracting as I breathed. I felt like I was touching my very core. Still, the slow breathing helped relax me somewhat.

I’m about to finger myself, I thought. Some region deeper in my brain repeated the same notion in a sultry whisper, worded more dangerously: I’m going to fuck myself. I shivered again.

I felt like it was a special moment that I should honour. I wanted to lie down. I looked over to my door, which was wide open. If I closed it, my parents would knock before they’d come in, giving me at least a few extra seconds to cover up in case they made their way to my room while I was too distracted to notice.

Slowly, I withdrew my finger from my pussy. Even that first time, I felt a subdued sense of disappointment at the new feeling of emptiness. Like being filled up is the more natural state, I thought.

Once my fingertip came into view, I saw that it looked like I’d stuck it into a jar of honey. It was totally covered in a layer of clear, sticky fluid. A glob had gathered on my fingertip, connecting to my pussy through a thin, wispy strand of juice.

Absolutely fascinated, I gazed wide-eyed as I moved my finger farther and farther away from my pussy, waiting for the juicy strand to tear. It finally did when my hand was about halfway between my pussy and my face. Some of the fluid landed on my mons and my PJ top.

I stared at the glob of juice still attached to my fingertip. I really wanted to lick it off and taste my deepest, most secret place, but I told myself, not yet. You can reward yourself with that afterwards. Be a good girl and tease yourself first.

I felt a strange sense of holiness as I opened my mouth slightly and put my wet finger to my lips, applying my pussy juice to them like make-up, first coating the bottom one, then the top. This is how whores put on lipstick, I thought and shuddered, wondering where the thought had come from. I sensually smacked my lips, noticing that I could faintly taste myself when I breathed through my mouth, so of course that’s what I did. I had to resist the temptation of just licking it all off my lips.

I saw that my finger was still a little wet. Still feeling strangely spiritual, I used my other hand to lift up my bangs, then daubed the last residue of pussy juice on my forehead like a bindi. Letting my bangs fall back and cover it, I felt less like an individual and more like an avatar of all budding female lust, my forehead, temples, cheeks and mouth painted with the invisible scented make-up of all girls naughty and of every sacred slut. I sniffed my finger and inhaled, my most private smell filling up my head like frankincense.

I had to shake my head to snap out of my trance. If Jehovah is listening to my thoughts, there’s no way I’m going to paradise, I thought and surprised myself by chuckling at the notion. Somehow, this raw horniness was giving me much more profound feelings than service at congregation ever had.

I finally got up. Moving through my room, I could feel the air brush over my dripping pussy and my damp face paint. I imagined someone saying, Excuse me, young lady, but you’ve got pussy all on your face. Shaking my head again, I closed the door.

Before I lay down, I pondered whether I should take off my PJ top. I loved keeping it on and fondling my boobs underneath, turned on by the secrecy. However, I felt like this occasion merited complete nudity. Like a virgin on the altar, ready to sacrifice herself, I mused as I took off my top, still in disbelief over my own thoughts.

I lay down and gently placed my wet panties beside me on the pillow, turning my head to breathe in the scent. When I spread my legs, I noticed that even the insides of my thighs were sticky now, probably from walking around. I ran my fingers back and forth over my outer lips, spreading my wetness all over my mound and through my pubic hair, amazed at how slick my pussy was.

I was pretty worked up already, so before long, I slid my finger through my slit again. My pussy was so aroused that I accidentally brushed over my exposed clit, which made me jolt. “Aah”, I heard myself say.

Like before, I tentatively dipped my fingertip beneath my folds first, luxuriating in the sensation of swirling it through my wetness. Then slowly, oh so slowly, I nestled it into my vagina, my palm resting on my vulva. I didn’t feel as much resistance this time, but my pussy was still really tight around my finger. I basked in the feeling of being filled up again.

Just as slowly, I retracted my finger all the way, watching my inner lips fold behind it like a curtain. Needing it, I put it back inside. The next time I retracted it, I didn’t pull it out all the way before going back in. Very gradually, I built up a rhythm, and I could feel my pussy play the counterpart to my finger, almost like it was trying to suck me back in when I pulled it out.

Whenever I hit the deepest spot, I reveled in the sensation for a few seconds before continuing this little game. I could sink my finger in up to the third knuckle without hitting a dead end, which I knew from biology class would be my cervix. And beyond that lies my womb, I thought.

Sliding in my finger became easier and easier. My pussy was dripping wet, producing delightful squishing sounds as I worked it with my finger. I loved fucking myself. I’m an animal, I thought, an animal taking care of her needs, I’m a slut who fucks her own pussy.

I ran my other hand all over my boobs. Occasionally, I’d brush against my taut nipples, which oddly intensified the feelings in my pussy as if there were a strange connection.

The sensations I got from fingering myself were different from the ones I’d get rubbing my clit, less pointed and intense, yet beautiful in their own way, deeper somehow and all-encompassing. I noticed that I was moaning, but I was too horny to tell myself to stop.

I was going pretty fast now, feeling awesomely horny, moaning with purpose as if to turn myself on even more. But although it felt amazing, I realized that I couldn’t come from just fingering myself.

I stopped fondling my boobs and fucking myself. I left my finger nestled all the way inside my pussy and started rubbing my clit with the other hand after slathering it with the wetness from my slit. This new sensation felt indescribable. My clit seemed more sensitive than normal, almost like it continued beneath my flesh straight into my vagina.

When I came, for a moment I was worried that my body would come apart at the seams. My pussy kept trying to contract, but there was not much wiggle room with my finger all the way inside, so my pussy just squeezed it erratically, which felt incredible. I felt more juices gush out through my fingers and against my palm. The plateau seemed to last forever. I jerked my hand away from my clit but I just kept on coming.

When it was over, I just lay there panting, wide-eyed. My chest was heaving. Eventually, I managed to extract my hand from my pussy, sad once more at the emptiness that my finger left behind inside of me.

I held my hand up to my face. All of my fingers were wet, not just the one I’d fucked myself with. Even my palm was a little damp.

Dutifully, I started licking off the wetness, first from my palm, then from my outstretched fingers. If you fuck yourself like an animal, you’ve got to clean your paw like an animal, I told myself. Despite the relief of my second orgasm this morning, the taste of my horny pussy started to get me turned on yet again.

Only after I was done scooping up the juices with my tongue, I allowed myself to put a finger in my mouth. I closed my eyes as I sucked off the residual wetness. Like a baby sucking on her thumb, I thought as my own dirty taste filled me up. One by one, I sucked all my other fingers clean too, saving the middle finger for last. It was such a treat.

Even after I was finished, my hand still smelled a little like pussy. I’m not gonna wash it, I thought. I wanna smell it later when I’m a normal human again, to remind myself that I’m also an animal, an animal with a dirty paw. My hand still being a little damp from my cleaning routine, I wiped it on my cheek, thinking, dirty, dirty, dirty girl. How had I become so naughty?

I could smell myself on my face, but I was pretty sure nobody would pick up on it unless I got too close to them. Only I knew what make-up I was wearing.

I picked up my panties again and held the crotch to my nose. One more time, I inhaled my scent, then I decided to put them back on again.

When the crotch nestled against my pussy, the dampness felt a little cold, but I told myself, You have no one to blame but yourself. You got so horny that you wet your panties, now you have to deal with the consequences.

I put on jeans next, afraid that I was gonna soak my PJ bottoms. The jeans felt tight on me. I cupped my crotch and whimpered a little, feeling the wetness all over my mound and still-sensitive pussy.

Still topless, I went over to the window and opened it, thinking that my whole room probably smelled like pussy now, although I couldn’t be sure with the smell on my face clouding my perception.

It was a beautiful day and the birds were chirping. I skimmed the streets for any potential onlookers. When I didn’t see any, I leaned out the window, closed my eyes and let the sun shine on my bust. The weather was finally getting warm.

I was excited to go to the pool on Saturday, hoping the weather wouldn’t change its mind. I was looking forward to going swimming, playing volleyball with my family, going down the water slide and eating cheap fries from the kiosk.

And seeing Bo in her bikini, I thought, suddenly aware of my naughty side again. How am I gonna make it through the week?

Leaving the window open, I went back to make my bed, where I discovered a little wet spot on the sheets. Oh crap, I thought, I was that wet? I sniffed it and yep, sure enough, this had oozed from my pussy. Well, you know how it is with naughty girls and the consequences of what they do, I thought, simply covering up the spot with my blanket.

As I was fluffing up my pillow, I heard someone running up to my room. Bo opened the door and came bounding through, Rebecca in tow. Unlike my parents, Bo never knocked on my door. I hadn’t thought that she would be back so soon. Bo looked over to me and stopped short in her tracks.

Panicked, I held onto the pillow, but didn’t think to use it to cover up my boobs. When I realized both girls were looking at them, I finally raised it up to my chest.

“Nothing to see here, folks”, I quipped, “just keep walking.” Absentmindedly, Bo shook her head and looked me in the eyes.

“Sorry, Lisa”, she said, and continued into her own room, looking a little dazzled.

“Yeah, sorry”, Rebecca said as well and followed Bo. Quietly, they closed the door behind themselves.

At least I just aired the room, I thought. I doubted these eleven-year-olds would have recognized the smell anyway, and they’d been pretty clearly preoccupied with the visual stimulus I’d provided.

I finally put on a bra and a T-shirt, contemplating how Bo was the reason I got so horny in the first place, taking a bath with her and kissing each other. It’s her own fault she saw me topless, I thought. And we were naked in the bath together earlier, anyway. Maybe she even liked the view.

I turned on my stereo system and put on a CD, not only to distract myself, but also the girls next door who were unusually quiet. If I had music playing, they could talk normally without me hearing anything through the door. I picked an album that I kept borrowing from the library because it had become one of my absolute favourites, Get Behind Me Satan by the White Stripes. After it started playing, I turned on the computer.

I’d always been too shy to post any stories on the masturbation forums, but I thought this would be a good one. I typed it all up and wrote a lengthy post, hoping that some of the girls reading it (and perhaps boys, too?) would be turned on, maybe even masturbate to it. Occasionally, I sniffed my hand, reminding myself of this heavenly dirty smell that my pussy produced.

By the time I hit submit post, “Instinct Blues” came on. I started singing along. “And everyone that’s under your shoe, and every bird and bug in the jungle too, and everything in the ocean blue, they just happen to know exactly what to do.”

I started laughing, the innuendo of the song clicking in my head for the first time. “So why don’t you?” Well, I certainly knew now. Instinct blues, alright.

I flopped down on my freshly made bed, turned up the music and enjoyed the rest of the album. At some point, the girls walked through my room again and I stopped singing, feeling a little embarrassed. Rebecca didn’t look at me, Bo just gave me a quick glance. They left and closed the door behind themselves.

The last song on the album suddenly carried a new layer of meaning to it as well. “And I love my sister, lord knows how I’ve missed her; she loves me and she knows I won’t forget. Sometimes I get jealous of all her little pets and I get lonely, but I ain’t that lonely yet.”

Maybe not you, Jack White, I thought, but maybe I am.

—

Bedtime was a little weird. It was a Sunday night, so Bo had to go to bed around nine. Usually I stayed up later than that, but I got ready for bed just after Bo, keeping my wet panties tucked underneath my pillow as a lucky charm so I could smell them again in the morning.

I wanted Bo to sleep over again, feeling anxious that our cuddle time might have been ended for good when Dad told her that sisters didn’t kiss each other. I wanted to know if she’d changed her mind.

She had just gone to bed when I climbed into mine. Her door was open.

“You wanna stay over with me?” I called out to her, trying to sound casual. It took her a while to reply.

“When do you have to get up?” she asked.

“At 6:30”, I said. Another pause.

“My first class is at 8:20 tomorrow”, she said. “I don’t have to get up till eight.”

Bo’s school was just a ten-minute walk away, whereas I had to take the train in the mornings. Class started at 7:30 for me, so I had to take the train at seven, and I usually took a shower before I left.

Even though getting up at 6:30 meant nine hours of sleep starting right now, I definitely sympathized with the notion of not wanting to wake up at 6:30 without a pretty good reason.

“You wanna just come over and cuddle a little before sleep time, then?” I tried.

“I’m tired”, Bo replied. My heart sank a little.

“Can I just come over and give you a goodnight kiss?” I asked.

“Okay”, she said.

I got out of my bed and walked over to hers. She was lying on her side, facing away from me, eyes closed. I leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

“I love you”, I said.

“I love you too, Lees”, Bo mumbled, but she didn’t move.

I couldn’t tell if she was really that tired or feeling awkward around me now, but I could tell I wasn’t gonna get a physical reaction out of her.

We said good night and I went back to bed. I didn’t fall asleep for a long time even though my horniness was long gone.