In my last story Thicker than Blood, I asked you, the readers, to choose what my next story would be: A Nightmare on Loud Street Part II, Reeling in the Years, or Siblings with Benefits. Siblings with Benefits won by a long shot. Be warned, though, this story gets kind of silly.

In the stillness of the night, a door creaks slowly open and a slitted pair of eyes appear in the crack, seeing nothing but dark, empty hallway. The door opens just wide enough to allow a shadowy figure to slip out, pulling the door softly closed behind it. Tiptoeing, it goes to the head of the stairs, where it pauses and cocks its head to listen, hearing nothing. Satisfied, it creeps down the stairs, pressing its back and arms against the wall, and steps over the third tread, which squeaks too loudly for the figure's liking. At the bottom, it listens again, longer this time.

Nothing.

It smiles and moves into the living room, where it leaps over the back of the couch and lands on its butt. It snatches the remote off the coffee table, clicks the TV on, and kicks its feet up, the soft electric glue revealing a wide, open face with brown eyes, freckles, and white hair. "When you have ten sisters," Lincoln muttered archly to himself, "sneaking downstairs to watch Skinemax is no easy task." He chuckled and slapped his knee. Sometimes he imagines his life is a TV show, and addresses an imaginary audience because that's how he thought; some people are deep, solitary thinkers who can sit quietly in a corner and work through the tangled mass of data in their brain, others talk out loud to themselves, and others still pretended to narrate their own lives like Ray Liotta in Goodfellas. Like that old song says, different strokes for different folks.

Snuggling back into the couch, Lincoln hit a series of buttons, and after a second, the screen was filled with a woman's breasts. Cheesy porn music played, and his heart clutched. Better, uh, turn that down; he sent the volume down a few clicks. He could barely hear, but you know what? He wasn't here for the storyline. If he wanted plot and characterization, he'd read an Ace Savvy comic. Tonight, he wanted one thing and one thing only: Hot, boner-inducing softcore porn.

No one knew about his nightly escapades except for Lana...well, she probably didn't know, but she had to know something was up, since it was her mechanical know-how that allowed the family TV to pick up Skinemax, a Canadian channel. Lincoln paid the little girl fifteen dollars a month in hush money...speaking of which, he had five days to come up with five dollars, or she'd be forced to mention to Mom and Dad that a porn station somehow managed to slip through the parental block. That was a problem for another day, though; right now, a hot blonde was on her back and a man was thrusting into her, and Lincoln's dick was starting to tingle and twitch into a standing position. Lincoln sat the remote on the couch next to him and squeezed his bulge through his pajama pants.

Where's that lotion? There was always a bottle in the living room somewhere. He got up and walked around, scanning the shadowy murk. Ah, there, on the end table by the stairs. He went over, grabbed it, and walked back to the couch, where he sat. Actually, this was going to get messy, he needed a towel or something. He couldn't risk going back upstairs. Oh, I know, the basement! He'd grab a towel or something from the dirty clothes hamper.

He got up, went into the kitchen, and opened the basement door, snapping the light on. At the bottom of the stairs, he turned left and entered the laundry room: Hampers crammed full of dirty clothes sat forgotten before the washer and drier. Lincoln shook his head: Lori was slacking. He rooted around in one, yanked out a towel, and then hurried back upstairs. When he entered the living room, his heart sank into his stomach: Luan was sitting on the couch, her arms crossed and her face bathed in blue TV light. She was wearing a simple white nightgown that stopped just above her knees. She glanced at Lincoln and lifted a brow.

"It's not what it looks like!"

She glanced to the bottle of lotion on the table, then back to him.

"I swear!"

She drew a deep breath and shook her head. "Lincoln...this is beyond disgusting. You're a terrible, awful freak of nature and a pervert. I'm not sure I want to be your sister anymore."

Horror filled Lincoln's chest.

She studied him with dark, narrow eyes the way one might study a particularly hideous big...then a big, sunny smile broke across her face. "I'm messing with you. Come here."

Lincoln's brow furrowed.

"Come here," she said again and patted the spot next to her.

Guarded, Lincoln went over and sat stiffly beside his sister.

"Watching porn is normal, Linc," she said, and crossed her legs in addition to her arms. "Don't feel bad."

On the screen, the man was thrusting into the woman from behind. Lincoln's penis was conflicted: It was partially hard because the action on TV was h-o-t hot, but it was partially soft because Luan was right next to him, and had scared the bejesus out of him when he walked in.

"I watch it too," she said absently. Lincoln looked up at her: Her eyes were trained on the TV and she looked deeply lost in it, her brow set and her lips pursed.

"Y-You do?" Lincoln asked.

She nodded. "Yep. Like I said, it's the most normal thing in the world." On TV, the woman was in the man's lap, bouncing. Luan's teeth grazed her bottom lip and her breathing was starting to get heavy. The look of lust in her eyes was unmistakable, and Lincoln was suddenly very uncomfortable...even if he was getting harder.

He turned away from her and stared at the coffee table. Wow. This was really awkward. The sound of her hitching breath and the sexual energy radiating from her body made him shudder, and not in an entirely good way. He started to get up, but she stopped him, "Where are you going?" she asked without looking away from the screen

"To bed," he replied.

"Why?" she asked. "You wanted to watch some bump and grind, didn't you?" She looked at him and grinned mischievously.

Lincoln rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, yeah I did, but, uh, not with my sister."

Luan's brows knitted. "Why not?" she asked.

"It's weird."

She cocked her head. "Why's it weird?"

Did she really not understand? Watching two people have sex while your older sister is right next to you is strange, to say the least. Both of you being openly turned on? That's really strange. And creepy. And gross.

"Because...you're my sister."

"Yeah. And you're my brother. I thought we got our introductions out of the way eleven years ago."

He started to reply, but she fixed him with wounded eyes. "Come on, I just wanna hang out. I can't sleep."

Lincoln sighed, the Good Brother within wrestling control, and sat. "Why can't you sleep?" he asked.

"Nightmare," she said matter-of-factly.

Blue light danced in her eyes. Her cheeks were red, he noticed, and she was rubbing her thighs together ever so slightly. She looked restless, but hey, nightmares tend to do that to you. "What was it about?"

She stared at the TV, her eyes hazing and her tongue wetting her bottom lip. Lincoln's stomach felt funny and his dick throbbed. He tried to glance away, but his eyes fell on her chest, and his heart sputtered when he realized her nipples were poking against the fabric of her nightgown. He forced himself to look away and at the screen, but she filled his periphery, and his traitorous neck drifted until he was staring at her legs. They were rubbing together faster now, the hem of her dress pushing farther and farther up, revealing the soft, smooth flesh of her thighs. Lincoln's throat was dry and tacky. Where her dress stopped there were shadows...shadows that tantalizingly hid her sex. He craned his neck, hating himself for hoping to catch even the faintest glimpse.

A stair step creaked. "Is someone down there?"

Luan and Lincoln both jumped at the sound of Lori's voice. "Shit!" Luan hissed and leapt to her feet. Heart blasting, Lincoln grabbed the remote off the table and jabbed the power button with a trembling finger.

Another step creaked. She was coming down!

Lincoln was frozen in terror. Luan stood where she was, rooted in place.

"Hello?"

Ahhhh!

"The closet!" Luan hissed. There was a coat closet by the front door. It was cramped, but it would keep them from being busted.

Luan started for the closet, and Lincoln came alive, jumping up and banging his little toe on one of the table legs. Hot pain rocketed up his body, and he almost cried out. In dusty moonlight streaming through the small windows beside the front door, Luan yanked the door open and turned. "Come on!"

Lincoln limped into the foyer and brushed past Luan, who pulled the door closed behind her; her butt smooshed into Lincoln's crotch, and he panicked, because he was still hard. She jumped, but didn't move away...couldn't move away...her body was pressed between him and the door, which popped open. "Shit!" she hissed, and pulled it closed again, moving even farther back, her butt grinding against his aching shaft and her hair tickling his face. Go down, go down, go down, go down! Instead, it throbbed harder, tenting his pajama bottoms and poking the cleft of Luan's butt, pushing the thin fabric of her nightgown slightly in and giving her a wedgie. Lincoln's face was beet red and his heart slammed. If it were possible to die from embarrassment, he would have dropped dead that minute.

Luan's body was stiff against him, her hair in his face, her shoulders against his throat. Her breathing was ragged.

"I'm sorry," he moaned.

"Shhhh!"

He bared his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it...ignore the clean, warm scent of her hair, ignore the way her butt cheeks are basically gripping the head of your dick, ignore the fact that your lips are basically pressed against the soft curve of her neck, ignore her body, her breathing, your boner...ignore it all! He was trying really hard, but it was too much.

In the living room, Lori called out, so close that Luan jerked back, more of Lincoln's penis poking between her cheeks. Her entire body was flushed and the spot between her thighs was tingling hotly. She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip. Ignore it...pretend it's not happening...pretend that there isn't a hot, throbbing rod penetrating you...pretend that hot breaths aren't puffing against the crook of your neck and making you quiver.

Lincoln's body trembled, and he fought desperately to pull his erection away, but there was literally no room; he was trapped, forced to stand there with his penis (as covered as it may be) in his sister's butt (as covered as it may be). He was hyperventilating, and her smell was making him lightheaded. He shifted, and the sensation made him gasp. Luan let out a shuddery breath and tensed, her head falling slightly back and his lips grazing her neck. Her skin was salty and sweet and like silk. Lincoln's breath caught and Luan let out a long, low moan that struck a primal nerve deep in his stomach. Almost against his will, his mouth opened wider, his lips tickling her skin; she took a deep breath, her body twisting against his.

Stop! Instead, he kissed her neck and she purred, arching her back and squirming her butt against his crotch. He was losing himself to passion, becoming a mindless animal whose entire existence revolved around carnal desire. He put his hands on her hips and trailed kisses from her shoulder to her ear. She gasped and threw her head back against his shoulder, her eyes rolling back in her head and her mind clouding with lust. Panting, Lincoln lifted his hand to her breast and cupped it: It was warm and full through her nightgown; her nipple prodded his palm.

Eyes closed, lost in the moment, Lincoln and Luan leaned into each other's lips and kissed, their tongues slipping wetly over one another and moving hungrily together. Luan turned and pinned him to the wall; his rigid shaft jabbed her crotch, and she gasped into his mouth. His hands moved up her legs, pushing the hem of her dress to her hips as they went. She was naked underneath, and when he realized this, he grabbed her butt and drew her closer to him.

"Is someone in there?" Lori asked outside the door, and both of them froze, their eyelids flying open and locking: Gazing into each other's eyes, brother and sister came crashing back to earth and realized what they were doing. Luan gasped and pulled away while Lincoln's knees gave out and dropped him to his ass. Luan collided with the door, and it flew open, spilling her to the ground with a breathy umph!

Lori uttered a sharp scream and jumped back. "Luan! What are you doing?"

I made out with my sister, Lincoln thought and hugged his knees to his chest. I made out with my sister...oh, god, I made out with my sister...

"Lincoln?" Lori asked, spotting him. She crossed her arms and flattened her brow. "Alright, you two have five seconds to explain what's going on here."

Lincoln opened his mouth and worked his throat, but only a hollow moan came out. Luan sat up and rubbed the back of her head, her eyes wincing in pain.

"Well?" Lori demanded.

"We were raiding the fridge," Luan lied, "and we panicked when we heard you coming."

We were raiding something alright, Lincoln thought, and shivered.

Lori's eyes flicked suspiciously from Luan to Lincoln, then back again. Did she see his boner? The abiding guilt in his eyes? Did she smell the incest clinging to him like the stench of death? "Get to bed," she said, "both of you. Now."

Luna pushed herself up and slunk away. Lincoln stood on shaky knees and hurried past his oldest sister, her gaze hot on the back of his neck.

It took him a long time to fall asleep that night.