You Good? Pt. 01


***All characters are over 18***

The rain was drumming on the awning as I watched my sister Carrie yelp from a thick, cold drop of water fall into the fold in the back of her shirt. The lake sucks a little bit now. It’s odd trying to play Yahtzee after spending three hours dividing up Dad’s stuff between trash was what we could sell online. She only wanted his ashtray and I didn’t really want anything. I’m only here to make sure she’s okay. I mean she isn’t of course, but whatever. The sudden shock of the water broke her concentration enough to smooth the lines on her face and show a part of her mouth besides her teeth. I didn’t even realize she asked me, “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m just worried about you.”

With a fake smile she replied, “Good!”

Later that evening I started fixing dinner, while she took a shower after making the bad decision to go for a swim during the thunderstorm. I sprayed the mud off of her in the front yard before letting her in the trailer. I felt embarrassed looking at her dark nipples discoloring the white tank top she swam in. She came out of the shower wearing the same shirt and swooshy running shorts. She must take better care of her skin than me, because her thighs shone in the yellow light of the overhead lamp next to the recliner when, “Hello? Is something wrong with my tits?”


“You were staring at my tits.”

“Oh! Uh, I was wondering why you were still wearing that shirt.”

“I didn’t bring a change of clothes,” she said, folding her arms in a way that didn’t help how I think she wanted it to.

“You could wear one of Dad’s weird fishing shirts.”

“You could make some eye contact with me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m tired and this day’s making me weird.” My face burned so red it looked almost purple. I was glad I was too tired or ashamed to stutter. Looking up I saw her mouth open in an attempt to find something to say, but I don’t know if she was going to be kind or get even angrier so I turned around and stared at the bad smelling salmon patties we always ate when we came here for the summer. After a few seconds of quietly shoving them back and forth on the skillet, I heard her laugh. I tried to pretend I didn’t hear it and immediately burned the shit out of my hand by grabbing too high up on the skillet handle.

“Oh my god!” she ran over giggling in-between breathes saying, “are you okay? You’re either gonna have to be less clumsy or harder to embarrass.”


“For which thing?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re gonna have to know which thing if you wanna apologize.”

“For staring?”

“No guessing!”

“I’m sorry I don’t know how to be the strong one.”

“Shut up, this isn’t about somebody needing to be strong or cheerful or funny or practical or anything. That person has to be someone besides you.”

“Oh.. I’m sorry for staring at your tits.”

“It’s okay. At least it threw me off long enough to laugh about something.”

“They’re nice.”

“That’s not what I was angling for.”

“They’re, uh, bad?”

“Jesus Christ, what’s going on with you right now?”

“This conversation was easier than playing Yahtzee and watching you smile like that.” Of course she cried during dinner. The salmon patties were a little burnt, but I liked them anyway. It’s the only time I eat bones, and it’s the only time I think about eating bones. Dad always said that he was bad at cooking these compared to his uncle, but he liked to cook them anyway. That one time we ordered chinese food instead, I woke up in the middle of the night to a loud can opener and just a little too much cooking smoke. The rain let up around eight, and I went outside and got shitfaced.

The next morning met me with a stiff back from apparently falling asleep on the picnic table outside and a thick musty blanket. Maybe I was musty and the blanket was just a blanket. Either way I vomited after turning my head too fast and felt a lot better. I went into the trailer to take a shower and saw my sister awake but still laying on the couch looking at the coffee table. She was wearing one of dad’s fishing shirts. It said in comic sans, “Noodlin’ Hooligan.” I decided to not notice her left nipple peeking through the arm-hole of her shirt and said, “Imma jump in the shower.”

“Okay, be quick though, I wanna go get breakfast.”

“You didn’t have to wait for me if you wanted something.”

“I’m kaynarca escort gonna make you buy though.”

“Like hell,” it was a little forced but that honestly didn’t matter, because there at least seemed to be a kernel of a good mood for both of us. I was absentmindedly playing with my dick in the shower like one does when I started thinking about her coming out of the lake. I didn’t realize how much I must have gaped at her as I watched the spray nozzle of the garden hose dissolve the mud on her legs. I hate jacking off in the shower, but it was probably the only time I was going to get to myself for the next day at least, so I let myself imagine the ways I could’ve used the hose to make her cum, and laughed almost as fast as I came at how much of a waste of water that’d be.

She knocked on the door saying, “I gotta piss real quick, sorry,” before coming in. I tried not to fall after jumping, almost literally, in the shower.

“Okay, can you put the towel over the curtain for me then? I’m just about done.”

“God you’re gonna smell like dad.”

“Nah, I don’t smoke. I’m gonna smell like beer and cheap soap.” The water got a little too hot as she washed her hands in the sink and put a towel over the curtain and closed the door. In maybe the most confusing thought of the trip I found myself bewildered at the fact I didn’t hear her piss.

The old barbeque place opens up early to sell biscuits and we nearly missed our chance because they close back down to get ready for lunch at nine. They didn’t mind letting us eat in, but we did have to tell them when we got done so they could unlock the door for us. Their chicken burned my mouth with a pocket of hot grease in the middle of me talking and I realized the smiles and laughter was a little less forced on both our parts. Today seemed to be going pretty good when the server came up and asked to take our picture.

“We like taking pictures of happy couples and putting them on the wall,” he smiled.

“Okay!” my sister said while I was still blinking, “how do you want us?”

“That’s up to ya’ll! However you like, but keep it PG, okay?” he said with a polite hum at the end.

“How’s this?” she asked before kissing me on the corner of the mouth. I must have looked surprised because he laughed while taking the picture on an old polaroid camera and shaking the picture.

“Perfect! He looks a little startled though!”

“Sorry, I was just caught off guard. Thought it was a ‘say cheese’ situation.”

“I’m sorry honey! I just felt like being spontaneous,” my sister said with a fake pout and her big green eyes doing a cartoonish flutter. There’s no way to respond to this that is gonna make it less weird, so I asked,

“Can we get another one? Y’know just for us?”

“Of course! I got plenty of film,”

“Alright, count us down!”

“3.. 2.. 1.. smile!” On the second count, I kissed her like I ran after her at the airport. Her eyes went scared horse wide, but she didn’t pull away. If I was more confident I knew anything, then I’d bet she was even leaning in. He handed us the picture as we paid our bill. It was overexposed and washed out the background and a little bit of our faces in what looked like three or four different sunrises.

Carrie didn’t say much on the way home but as I drove, she traced the outline of our heads on the photo with an unreadable expression. Once we got to the trailer she hopped out of the car and ran in the trailer, shutting the door behind her. I panicked realizing how much I must have upset her. I realized that I wasn’t even sure why I did it. Maybe I was trying to get back at her? Am I really that horny? I mean, it’s not like I’m some single undersexed college student anymore. I’m some single undersexed college graduate. Maybe I was too set on a woman respecting me. I could’ve let that web designer ruin my life and slept in a big, comfy bed and cheat on her or something. We could have been reasonably unhappy and I could have a savings account. I bet that I could by more dumb shit and even save a quarter of my paycheck for big purchases if I split my rent on a loft. I mean sure it’s a college town so rent is a little steep, but things are going well with printer’s and I’m pretty sure I’ll get a promotion in a year or two. I haven’t been paying for health insurance, but with a good family plan, if I split it with a nice girl I bet I could be happy and finally orhanlı escort get my knee checked out.

“Are you just going to stay outside pacing and talking to yourself about healthcare premiums?”

With a start I looked up to see my sister with a heavy cardboard box in her arms standing in the doorway, “Huh?”

“Can you grab this? Please?”

“Uh, sure. where do you want it?”

“You can put it in the trunk of my car. When I leave I’ll donate at a local place on the way home.”

“Are you leaving soon?”

“Maybe. Aren’t you?”

“I am if you aren’t here, but I was, well enjoying maybe isn’t the right word, but, I… wanted to spend some more time with you.”

“Oh, I thought maybe I was stressing you out.”

“You are, but–“


“Of course you are, but right now being stressed out sounds better than being alone,” I kicked some pebbles in the gravel driveway like a ten-year old.

“It does, but does it have to be this stressful?”

“What can I do to make it less stressful?

“Talk! Jesus Christ you nearly tongued me in front of a stranger in a restaurant! Then I had to just sit there while you drove us back looking like you killed someone!”

“Sorry I just didn’t expect to…” I hoped that sounded like a complete sentence.

“Expect to what?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything at this point. You keep talking in small sentences and stumbling around me, and I thought it was because of Dad, but now it feels more like–“

“Sorry, I just don’t know what I’m doing. I can’t tell if I’m anxious or if I’m excited or having an allergic reaction to Dad dying.”

“That’s fine! Just talk about it. I’m not going to get mad at you being weird or horny or nervous or–“


“Whatever you wanna call staring at me and kissing me in front of strangers, I’m not mad about it.”

“You’re not?”

“Well a little, but I’m trying to extend a grace period.”

“Like I can kiss you again?”

“No! I mean,” she was biting her knuckle as she was talking. “Well I, I don’t mean to encourage you, but I don’t want you to hate yourself right out of being my brother.”

“That wouldn’t happen. I’d just go full Batman and watch you from a cave and order you pizza or bluff like I can fight to shitheads bothering you.”

“Do you need to kiss me to do that?”

“I… just thought you liked it.”

“I think I would’ve liked anyone kissing me right now.”

“Can I kiss you then?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Is there something else you want? Nothing too much? Like dinner? or maybe a walk?”

“I’d like both of those, but can I do something weird first?”

“Uhm, what?”

“Can I spray you with the garden hose again? In the tank top?”

“That would be fine,” she said nervously, “as long as you don’t touch me.”

“Thank you. Imma go by the lake and calm down if that’s okay.”

She smiled and walked back into the trailer.

“So where do you want me?” She asked, playing seductive on the picnic table in a way I wish I found funnier.

“Wherever’s fine.”

“Jeez, if you’re going to have me do this you could at least enjoy it.”

“I don’t know where the line is between scary and enthusiastic.”

“Don’t worry, this is scary regardless.”

She looked more excited than scared, but I wouldn’t mention anything because I was too busy trying to breathe. Carrie stood in front of me and for once I stared at her intentionally. She was almost as tall as I was, which is to say fairly tall. She’s kept her build she’d developed from playing basketball in highschool, but there was a small bit of tummy poking out of what is clearly not the same tank top. This one is way too small for her, reaching short of her belly button it compressed her like a binder. Her long legs were various shades depending on which tan line you were looking at. Her upper thighs looked like they belonged to a different person than her calves. She wore loose cotton sprinting shorts and her barefeet were tapping nervously.

Her toes, half-ass painted some mixture of purple and green, seemed like a safe start. The cold water made her hop a bit. So I asked if she was sure, and she nodded and gestured for me to hurry up. So I sprayed her in the face.

“What the fuck!”

“You said it was okay!”

“This shit is cold! I need some warning!”

“I figured it’d be tepeören escort better this way,” and then I ignored her grumbling. The water had already weighed down her dark hair and clung it to her collarbone. Trying to be more considerate I used less pressure as I soaked her. After a minute or two I realized this wasn’t as erotic as I was hoping it would be. Maybe I was just going about it wrong?

I started playing around with different pressures and angles until it started to feel a little bit like I was washing a dog. She looked confused as I started laughing, but that only made me laugh harder. I kept laughing even as she snatched my hose from my hands and sprayed me back. Eventually we found ourselves playing tug-of-war and I pulled her slap on top of the picnic table when I finally won. She was breathing hard looking up at me. I realized I scraped her leg pulling her up there. “Are you okay?”

“What? Yeah. I’m fine,” she said in between breaths.

“Your leg looks a little cut up.”

She looked down saying, “oh that’s fine. I’m taking a shower after you are done with whatever this is. I saw some neosporin in the medicine cabinet. It’s like twenty-years old but antibiotics only get stronger right?”

“Go take your shower and I’ll patch you up.”

“Do you feel better?”

“Yeah, thanks for this.”

“Not a problem! I had fun, surprised you didn’t try anything though.”

“I did! I just realized it felt like washing our old german shepherd, so I lost interest a little bit.”

“Pfft, should I be offended?”

“I didn’t mean it like that! You’re beautiful, but the garden hose might not be the best way to, uh, showcase your assets.”

She grabbed my hand and put it underneath her shirt and rested it on her stomach asking, “Is this better? No, don’t move it. Is this better?”

I forgot the word that means yes, so I just nodded like a maniac. The cotton was heavy on the back of my hand. The water was sticky with sweat and I realized that my wet blue jeans were really quite good and holding my erection down. I looked back up to her face and saw her twisting her earlobe to the point of pain. I managed to repeat myself saying, “Go take your shower and I’ll patch you up.” She stood up and I tried not to make a noise as my hand slid out of her shirt and I unconsciously ran my fingers down the right side of her shorts and down her thigh. She made some sort of comical shuffle into the trailer while I sat down and stared at my knees for one or two minutes before changing into some of Dad’s clothes in the living room.

Carrie came out of the hallway wearing a towel and holding a tube of neosporin. Her chest was red from the heat of the shower and the scrape looked a lot better after it was cleaned up a little bit, but I don’t think I was really worried about an infection. I just wanted to touch her a little more. Well, not just that, I also wanted to feel like I was doing something for her. I came here because I was worried about her, and I certainly didn’t make this any simpler. I probably should’ve just let her come her alone and maybe called her before she went to sleep. Luckily she could see my blink until my eyes dried as I knelt in front of her and slowly rubbed the antibiotic onto her knee and a little bit up on her thigh. I felt her tense up for a moment, but relaxed her leg after the first application.

“Are you gonna kiss it and make it better?”

“Is that what you want?”

“I think so, yeah.”

I was so nervous that I kissed the wrong leg at first, but I made some sort of half-joke about it feeling left out before I pressed my lips to the thin sheet of grease spread over her wound. I let my lips rest there for several seconds, and she trembled as I exhaled throughout my nose. I looked up to see her hand hovering over my head as she stared at me. I kissed her leg again without looking away. I liked the look in her eyes. Her sweat mixed with the scent of the soap and I suddenly breathed so deep she jolted. “Do you feel better now, Carrie?”

“Yeah,” her hand turned to hold my face, her thumb stroking my cheek as she sighed, “I’m sorry your idea didn’t pan out.”

“This is good. I like this. Do you like this?”

“Too much. I’m going to sleep on the couch. I’m not mad, but I’d like to be alone for the rest of the night. Is that okay?”

Jumping up I yelped, “Of course! Of course! It’s been a long day huh? We’re going to be okay right?”

“Well,” she tried to regain composure I didn’t realize she’d lost, “as soon as… as soon as you get your erection out of my face we’ll be fine!” She smiled politely as I ran away, bumping into the corner of the hallway.

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