Lyrics to Hell Ain't a Bad Place to Be by AC/DC (1977)

Lemy patted the chest pocket of his vest for the hundredth time since coming back outside from his 'bathroom break.' The joint was still there, still waiting to be taken out, put between his lips, and sparked.

He was sitting Indian style in the grass next to Leia's chair like a loyal dog, and if she didn't keep throwing him bones in the form of uppity-yet-sexy glances, he would have blown this lemonade stand an hour ago. Not only was it hot as fuck out here, he was the one stuck making deliveries and doing the BS grunt work. Seriously, who the fuck calls a kid's lemonade stand and places an order for delivery? Are people that fucking lazy now? No wonder people get so damn fat; you see them cutting apartment buildings open to get to those My 600 Pound Life types all the time. Crazy. He turned to his sister: She sat prim and proper behind the table, her pigtails fluttering in the breeze. His eyes went down to her legs: Her skirt rested just above her knees. He wanted to reach out and stroke her outer thigh so bad it made him faint.

You know what? She let me do it earlier.

He extended a tentative hand, stopped, flickered his eyes to her profile...then brushed the back of his hand fleetingly across her flesh. She jumped and whipped her head around, and Lemy yanked his hand bac before he lost it. "Did I say you could touch me?"

"N-No."

"Then don't touch me," she spat.

"Sorry," he said. Why was she so fucking hot when she was mad and uppity? Maybe it was the unspent load in his balls clouding his judgement, but goddamn, he wanted his queen to put him in his place; he wanted her to make him kiss her feet and shit.

Instead of doing any of that stuff, she stared ahead, occasionally turning and speaking to Lizy, who sat next to her. With each movement, her skirt rustled, and Lemy prayed for a fucking glimpse of her, but never got one. Just one, man, just one..

He patted his vest again; it was still there. Maybe he should...

"Now you may touch me," Leia said. Lemy glanced up at her; she still faced forward, her hands laced on top of the table and her head tilted slightly back, lending her a regal appearance. His eyes went to her legs and his dick, hitherto limp, sprang back to life. Still in the game! He scooted closer and lifted his shaky hand. Leia looked at him from the corner of her eye, and the corner of her lips formed an evil smile. "Touch me, Lemy."

Man, are there any more beautiful three words in the English language? No! He laid his palm on her knee, and his dick did the whole throbby/leaky thing. Leia purred and, emboldened, he ran his hand up her leg, the soft material of her skirt brushing against it. He watched her face for cues; he sure as fuck couldn't listen for them with the way blood crashed in his ears. He pushed her skirt up and stroked his fingers along the inside of her thigh. He was inches from her vagina, her pulsing heat burning his skin like standing next to a raging fire. Was his little sister turned on, or was she always an oven?

Leia's pink, wet tongue darted out and moistened her lips. Her cheeks were red and her eyes half-lidded. Holy shit, brah, she likes it!

I know I've said 'his dick was harder than it ever was before' a couple times (call me Tony "every Monday night is the most explosive night in the history of our sport" Schiavone), but this time I'm serious. His glowing hot skin was so tight against his member that a grimace of pain crossed his face. It was gonna rip...rip right the fuck off and his dick would be a a quivering, bloody mass of nerves and cartilage. He didn't care, though; it would be worth it.

Then his fingertips smeared something slick and sticky across her flesh and his heart stopped. Oh, shit, is...is that girl cum? Holy mother of fuck, I'm touching girl cum...I'm making a girl cum!

When she spoke, he sputtered. "Hm, too high, Lemy."

Huh? Too high?

She turned her head and looked down at him, a queen from her throne. "Too high," she repeated, her brows lifting.

More like not high enough. One more stroke and he'd be at the source of her heat, his fingers slipped between her tacky folds.

"Stop touching me, Lemy," she said huskily, patiently.

Lemy let out a shuddery breath and pulled his hand back with the reluctance of...I don't fucking know, man, he just really didn't want to stop. He rested his hands in his lap and trembled; he was fevered, his body wracked with chills. His breathing was heavy and short. He was fucking sprung af in other words, and he didn't know how much more he could take; if this kept up, he'd bend Leia over that table and fuck her silly whether she wanted him too or not.

Don't rape your sister, man; you have plenty enough reason to hate yourself already.

Oh, yeah, the lust is clouding my judgement. I wouldn't do that, but, man, I'm going crazy down here, losing my mind. I feel like a freight train going off the rails and when I crash, man, it's gonna be big. I need to get up, go jack it, and stay the fuck away from this little devil bitch for the rest of the day.

He glanced at her. So soft, so pretty, so girly.

Yeah...maybe later.

He looked down at his hands...then remembered. I touched her cum. He lifted his fingers to his face and studied them; they glimmered in the light of the sun, her juice a thin, translucent sheen. Oh, dude...oh, my dude, that's hot. He stole a furtive glance at her to make sure she wasn't watching, then lifted them to his nose and took a deep whiff. Her scent was dank and wild, like a bitch in heat, a pretty, pink, princess bitch. Oh, fuck, man, fuck.

Without a care in the world, he shoved his fingers into his mouth. Salty...sweet...his tongue lapped each finger slowly, relishingly. When Leia spoke, he froze.

"How do I taste?"

Busted.

He didn't care; he wanted her to see him, wanted her to know he was licking her off and swallowing her. He took his digits out of his mouth and licked his lips. He couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze as he replied, though. "Really good."

She made an egotistical hmph noise. "I know."

That was all.

Damn. He was hoping she'd say something about getting to taste more later.

For a while, he sat there, trying to will his hard-on away and failing. Think about something unsexy...like Mama Juicy naked.

Ugh.

Sweat glistening in fat rolls, thick layer of all-over body hair, the smell of mildew, unwashed crotch, and dirty armpits, tits sagging down to her stomach, big black bush looking like Michael Jackson's head circa 1970.

His dick softened...but just a little.

"Lemy?" Leia said, and his heart twisted.

Yes, my princess?

"Y-Yeah?" he asked and looked up.

Her eyes were seductively half-lidded. "Go inside and get me and Lizy a chocolate bar. We're hungry."

"I want dark chocolate!" Lizy piped.

Leia grinned. "I'll have mine with nuts."

Lemy faltered. N-Nuts? Like my nuts?

Man, I said I wouldn't get my hopes up, but look at her; those bedroom eyes, the cum on her thighs, that blush on her cheeks...she wants it, man...she wants me! She has to. God, a girl - and fucking Leia at that - wants me to dick her. Holy mother fuck, holy mother fuck, deep breath, deep breath.

"Now," she said. Her voice wasn't sharp, it was soft, low, slurry with need.

Lemy jumped to his feet. "Okay."

Her eyes went to his crotch and her grin got bigger. Lemy followed her gaze and, hey, look, Lemy Jr.'s pointing at you like a possessive finger. That means he likes you, sis. She looked up at him with smug satisfaction. "Maybe later."

Lemy's heart dropped.

Really?

Holy shit!

"Now go get me my chocolate."

Yes, ma'am!

Leia watched him go, or rather his cute little butt. She clamped down on her lower lip and turned away, her thighs rubbing together of their own accord, creating hot, mind-numbing friction.

Hmmm. She knew she'd get turned on teasing him - she always did - but not like this; she felt like she was literally smoldering, and her pussy...ohmigod, squishy. Her original plan was to leave him hanging at the end of the day (because how hot is that?), but with the way he touched her...and looked at her...and obeyed every single word...and that boner in his pants...plans might have to change.

Might.

While she waited for her, um, big brother to get back, a man in a suit came up and stood on the business end of the table, his eyes flicking down to the hand lettered sign taped to the edge. Black Sharpie on hot pink. "How much?" he asked as if the prices weren't cleary labeled.

"Five dollars," Leia said.

His eyes widened. "Five dollars? That's highway robbery."

"I have a lot of overhead," Leia said, "and I pay my employees minimum wage."

Lizy nodded eagerly, then when Leia wasn't looking she shook her head. "No she doesn't," she mouthed.

The man made a thoughtful humming sound. "I still say that's too much for a cup of lemonade."

Leia sighed. "Fine, three-fifty."

"Now that I can do," he said, taking out his wallet.

When he was gone, Leia counted the money, the way it felt in her hands increasing her arousal, then shoved it into a metal lockbox. "Sucker."

Lizy turned, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Uh...aren't you the sucker? You gave it to him for cheaper."

"No, I'm the genius. See, honey, this is how it goes: That glass of lemonade was worth two bucks tops. I jacked the price up so that when anyone complains, I can 'lower' it to three fifty. They'll either think they're getting a deal or feel sorry because I was desperate enough to come down." She giggled girlishly. "Oldest trick in the book."

In the kitchen, Lemy rummaged through the pantry. Where the fuck are those chocolate bars? He was starting to panic, because if he went out there empty-handed Leia was going to be pissed and his chances of doing her were down the fucking drain. Flashing, he shoved a box of cheese crackers out of the way. C'mon, c'mon, can't something go right for me for once?

That's when he saw them. Oh, cool. He grabbed two and started to close the door.

"Hey, son."

Then he tensed.

Of all the people he wanted to see or talk to right now, his old man was dead last. Alright, maybe John Wayne Gacy was last (serial killer who raped and murdered young boys, keep up), but Dad wasn't too far ahead. Then again, what was that stoned shit he was talking last night about letting go?

"Hey," he said and shut the door, but didn't turn.

"How's it going?" From the sound of it, Dad was crossing to the fridge. The door opened, and Lemy glanced over his shoulder; Pop grabbed a soda and opened it, then turned.

Lemy nodded awkwardly. "It's, uh, it's good."

Dad took a drink and leaned against the counter. "Good. I saw you helping Leia. Selling lots of lemonade?"

Really, man? I got a girl out there leaking down her fucking legs and you wanna make small talk? You like blue-balling me, don't you? Fucking assmunch. Imma start calling you The Cuckmaster General. "Yeah, kinda, I guess." I don't know, I'm not paying attention to that shit.

"That's good," Dad said, then glanced at his feet. Lemy started to leave, but Dad looked back up and stopped him. "I was hoping we could do something later. You know, just me and you."

You picked a real bad time to wanna hang, Pop. "I can't," he said, "I gotta help Leia."

"Oh," Dad said, and Lemy thought he detected a hint of disappointment. Ha, shoe's on the other foot, bitch. "Alright. Maybe tomorrow?"

"Maybe."

Lemy hurried outside before Dad could try to cuck him more; in the short time he was in the air conditioned house, he forgot how fucking hot it was out here. Almost as hot as Leia's pussy.

Hmmm, God, how would it feel on his dick? Probably like slowly sinking himself into boiling oil. He could hear Leia gasping now; throwing her head back and rocking her hips up, pressing them against his, sheathing him to the hilt, her pink little nails digging into his shoulders…

AHHHHH, I'm gonna fucking bust right here!

Thinking of Mama Juicy again and trying to ignore the unpleasant stickiness slathering the inside of his pants, he went over to the table; Leia was taking a crisp five dollar bill from an old woman and nodding her thanks while Lizy poured lemonade into a plastic cup. The old woman took it in one trembling hand, smiled, and shuffled off. Lemy was standing over Leia now, his tent thiiiiis close to brushing her arm. She pointedly ignored him. "Leia?"

She turned to Lizy. "She was nice."

Lizy nodded. "I liked her cane. It had a dragon on it."

"Of course you'd like that," Leia said.

Really? He didn't know whether to be offended or turned on. Ignore me, your highness...then grant me passage to your royal womb. He tapped her shoulder with one of the chocolate bars.

"It was cool,' Lizy said in self-defense.

"No it wasn't," Leia argued. "Now if it was a dollar sign…"

An idea struck Lemy. Uh...should I? The way she's been acting, man, that's probably what she wants. And if it's not, what's she going to do if it's not, yell at me and call me gross? Eh, it's okay when she does it.

He rocked his hips forward and poked her arm with his boner. She turned in a swish of golden hair, her eyes going from it to his eyes. "Oh, hi, Lemy," she said and batted her eyelashes, "I didn't hear you come up. Did you do what I told you?"

Lemy nodded. "Uh, yeah," he said and held the chocolate bars up, "two."

They looked at each other for a moment. Her eyes were the deepest, crystalline blue, a Rocky Mountain pond that reflects the sky like glass. Her pupils were dark and dilated, bottomless fonts of mystery and darkness. "Give it to me," she said and smirked. She was talking about the chocolate...he thought.

He swallowed thickly and held them out. She plucked them from his hand. "Thank you, Lemy."

"Y-You're welcome."

They stared at one another. Lemy had that same feeling he had with Lacy yesterday..like he was about to fall into her eyes.

"Sit down now, Lemy."

Lemy dropped to his ass, and Leia's sharp, closed-lipped smile grew tenfold, as though she were pleased. Lemy wasn't as dumb as a lotta people make him out to be, he knew she was getting off on wielding power over him or something, and that was fine, because for whatever god forsaken reason, he was getting off on it too. Yeah, man, I really am a masochist. Christ on his throne, man, leave it to me to develop some weird fucking embarrassing kink or fetish. God forbid I be a normal dude...noooo, I gotta like wearing leather face masks or some shit and having by ass beaten with a garden hose while being called mean names and having my dick in one of those fucking dick-clamps.

He patted his pocket. His joint was still there. Wonder if Leia wants to blaze? His friends at school said it makes girls horny.

Ooooh, but Leia was already horny. She was a dirty little princess. She looked sweet and wholesome on the outside, but get her alone in her bedchambers and she pounces like a tigress for the kill. He could see her springing at him, knocking him back onto the mattress and mawing him with her pretty pink glossed lips, her fingernails raking his bare chest from his throat all the way to the waistband of his jeans. Then she hooks her fingers in and pulls them down, slowly until his dick pops out and she wraps her hand around it…

Lemy bit his knuckle so goddamn hard it nearly came off.

"Lemy?"

Lemy turned his head. Leia broke a piece of chocolate off and held it out to him. He reached for it, but she snatched it back. "No," she said like a master to a disobedient dog, "use your mouth."

"O-Okay."

He leaned over, but before he could get it, she snatched it back and shoved it into her mouth with a giggle. She tilted toward him. "You don't get any," she said with a mocking hilt. Okay, I didn't particularly want any, but using my mouth to take it outta your hand...hmmm. That I did, so…

"I'll share wih you, Lemy," Lizy said. She was leaning back in her chair and looking at him behind Leia. She broke off a piece and held it out. "Don't use your mouth, though." The pure, innocent way she said it made him snicker. I wasn't going to. He reached out and took it.

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome," she chirped.

Leia looked at him as though she wanted to say something, but turned away again. He pushed the chocolate past his lips and chewed it slowly, his eyes glued to her legs. Maybe he could…

She caught him reaching out. "You are not allowed to touch me right now," she snapped.

"Okay."

She pursed her lips and lifted her brows. "Okay what?"

His heart throbbed. "Leia."

No word, no name, had ever felt better on his lips, had ever sounded sweeter to his ears. Such a beautiful name...such a beautiful girl...such a beautiful little sister. "Leia," he repeated.

"Say it again," she said lowly.

He was starting to feel brave: He stared directly into her eyes. "Leia." He drew it out. L-e-i-a. Sparks of pleasure shot down his spine as it rolled off his tongue like warm honey. He suspected that if he spoke it too much, he would become drunk on her like a man on wine.

Fire burned in her eyes and on her cheeks. "Again."

"Leia."

She shook her head slowly. "Don't touch me, Lemy," she said softly, "you haven't earned it yet."

Lemy nodded.

"Apologize."

"Sorry, Leia."

She considered him for a minute, then nodded. "I forgive you." She turned away, laid her forearms against the edge of the table, and laced her fingers. She looked like an attentive school girl listening closely to her teacher's instructions, and that image made Lemy want to take her into the janitor's closet and rut into her like a wild animal.

"Ew gross."

She was looking at her fingers with something like horror; they were smeared brown with chocolate. "Don't worry," Lizy said, "I have baby wipes." She twisted around and started to reach into her pocket, but Leia waved a dismissive hand.

And looked at Lemy.

She stuck out her hand, palm facing up. "Lick it off."

Lemy's eyes widened. "Uh, what?"

"LIck. It. Off."

Lemy met her unwavering gaze, and she lifted her brow again as if to say I'm waiting. Is she serious? Does she really want me to lick her hand? Because if she does, man, I totally will; I'm so fucking sprung right now I have no shame. I'm so hot, man, I'd lick the dirt off her feet, I'd shit off her ass hole…

...okay, I'm not that turned of, but you know what I'm saying. Or do you? When I get really hot, my thinking kind of clouds. Things that sound nasty af when I'm down sound fucking amazing when I'm up, like a girl sucking me off then kissing me with her mouth still full of jizz. Ew, Lemy, you're disgusting. I know, but right now, if Leia had my cum dripping down her chin I'd shove my tongue into her mouth and spin it around like a tornado, you know, to make sure I got every last drop.

"Are you just going to sit there looking stupid or are you going to clean my hand?" Leia asked sharply.

Lemy swallowed. He guessed he was going to clean her hand...and enjoy every last fucking second of it.

He scooted closer and looked at her for guidance. She nodded curtly. Alright then, uh, I guess, I, uh, I'm doing this. He cupped the back of her hand in his palm, his fingers dancing over her wrist. He drew it close and inspected it: Streaks of chocolate painted her porcelain flesh brown. He bent his neck forward; his heart was knocking like Dave Edmunds and his guts twisted. "Go on," Leia said impatiently.

Okay. Here goes. He touched the tip of his tongue to her skin and flicked it across one of the stains. The sweet taste of chocolate and the salty taste of sweat filled his mouth, and he couldn't suppress a moan of delight. He flattened his tongue against her hand and lapped deeply, like the dog he was. Leia sighed beautifully, and his passion began to grow; his lips brushed her thumb, and he took it into his mouth, the curled tip of his tongue swirling around it and his lips moving up and down. It occurred to him that he was basically sucking a dick or something, but he didn't care; she was breathing heavy now and his dick was leading him like a divining rod. Getting to his knees, he spat her thumb out and did the same for each finger, sucking it clean then moving onto the next, the flavor of her skin making him swoon with heady pleasure.

He was trembling, on the rails, losing control, panting. He kissed her palm, then her wrist. Her pulse pounded crazily, and he kissed it, licked it; goosebumps raced up and down her flesh, and she moaned through closed lips. His fucking pants were soaked now but he didn't notice; his body burned with arousal and his mind was fogged with lust. He could literally be on fire and he wouldn't realize it.

"Ummm, that's nice," Leia said.

Encouraged, he trailed kisses up her slender arm, his fingertips massaging her knuckles.

"You're turning me on," she breathed.

"You're t-turning m-me on," he stammered.

She threaded the fingers of her free hand through his hair and tilted his head back. Her cheeks blazed crimson and her eyes shone with an aberrant light; her chest rose and fell as she fought to control her breathing. He looked at her, and she at them...then she tilted her head to the side and their lips fused, their tongues sliding hungrily over one another. She laid her hands on his face and he gripped her hips.

When the kiss broke, she rested her forehead against his, her sweet, chocolatey breath filling his nose. "Do you wanna fuck me?"

Lemy's head bobbed eagerly up and down. Sweet baby Jesus, yes.

She hummed. "Maybe I'll let you. If you're good."

"Anything," he said.

She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and pulled back slowly. Lemy gaped. Oh fucking man that's so fucking hot let me fuck you now please please please.

Instead, she sat up straight and smirked smugly. "You're going to wish you never said that, Lemy Loud."


Liby leaned against the dresser with her arms crossed and an impatient expression on her face. Lacy sat bent on the edge of the bed, her forearms resting on her knees and her head bowed.

They were in Lacy and Lupa's room, and had been for nearly an hour. In the backyard, Dad pushed a mower along the fence, stripped to the waist and wearing a pair of gardening gloves. Liby pointedly ignored his muscular chest, and the way the sun glistened on the sweat sheening him. They were waiting for him to come back inside so that Lacy could talk to him about her feelings for Lemy. She could have done it before he went out to cut the grass, but she wasn't ready. She needed to amp herself up. Liby was starting to become annoyed. If it was just her, she would have Lemy in bed right this second, doing things to him that I can't describe here because they're not fucking dirty, but she couldn't, because she and Lacy agreed not to approach Lemy without the other. Liby was tempted to go snag him now and let Lacy work through her own problems, but she was serious about this, and she didn't want to do anything to jeopardize hers and Lacy's arrangement; as a token of good will, she even agreed to let Lacy go first. I wanna take his V-card, she said earlier, I kind of...have a thing for that.

Liby wanted to be his first, but she was willing to give that honor to Lacy in exchange for being the one to spend the night with him. His virginity didn't overly interest her; falling asleep in is arms did, so it was really an even trade.

Outside, the drone of the mower's motor fell silent, and Liby went over to the window; Dad swiped the back of his hand across his forehead and started toward the back door, removing one glove then the other. Liby glanced over her shoulder at Lacy. "He's coming in."

Still staring at her feet, Lacy gave a slight nod. Liby frowned and shook her head. "I'm telling you, you're worrying for nothing."

Lacy sighed and looked up. Her face was wan and drawn. "Maybe," she said, her voice forceless.

Liby came over and knelt in front of her, then laid a hand on her leg. "He's not going to be upset," she assured her. "He's probably going to say 'Oh, that's great, honey, use protection.'" She deepened her voice to sound more like him, and Lacy cracked a muted smile. Liby rubbed the younger girl's knee and then patted it. "You ready?"

"No," Lacy said, but got to her feet anyway.

Liby likewise stood and smoothed out her skirt with her hands. "Come on," she said and started for the door, "the quicker we get this over with the quicker we can have Lemy."

Despite herself, Lacy smiled.

Downstairs, Dad stood at the counter assembling a sandwich from cheese, meat, condiments, and pumpernickel bread. Liby's nose instinctively crinkled when she saw the latter - she hated the stuff and how Dad could stomach it was far beyond her. Lacy, arms crossed nervously at her stomach, shuddered slightly, and Liby slipped her arm around her shoulders.

Dad didn't hear them come in; he was humming and focused entirely on his sandwich. Liby cleared her throat, and he tossed a quick glance in their direction. "Hey, girls," he said, "I was just making lunch, want some?"

"No," Liby said, "we actually need to talk to you. About something important."

Lacy stared at the floor, unable to meet his gaze as he picked up his plate and came over. "Alright, let's sit."

In the dining room, he sat his plate down and sank into a chair with a weary sigh. Liby and Lacy sat side-by-side across from him, Lacy doing her best to avoid looking at him. He noticed; his brow furrowed and he turned to Liby. "What's up?"

"Well," Liby started, "we have something to tell you. Lacy is very nervous about it."

Dad looked at Lacy. "Whatever it is, honey, you can tell me. You don't have to be nervous." His voice was soft, comforting, and Liby could see it affecting Lacy like heat melting ice. She looked up and favored him with a hopeful expression. He smiled warmly and reached his hand across the table; she took it and their fingers threaded together. "What's the matter?" he asked.

Lacy gave Liby a sidelong glance as if for guidance, then took a deep breath. "We...we're both….we both like Lemy."

The last four words came out in a hurried rush; she wanted them out and spoken, like ripping off a Band-Aid.

Dad's forehead wrinkled. "Well, I'd hope, he's your br - " his eyes widened as understanding dawned on him. "Ooooh. You mean like-like." He looked from one girl to the other, and both nodded, Lacy miserably and Liby resolutely.

"That's great," he said with a proud beam.

Lacy twitched her head up, something like surprise written across her face. "I-It is?"

"Yes," Dad said with an earnest nod, "I'm very happy. I've been waiting for one of you girls to start crushing on him."

Liby crossed her arms and regarded her sister with a smug smirk. See, Lace? I told you he wasn't going to be upset. He's a kind, caring, amazing, and understanding guy. I might not be in love with him, but it's easy to see why everyone else is.

"I thought you were going to be upset," Lacy said with a sigh of relief. "I...I kissed him yesterday and it felt like I cheated on you."

"Cheated on me?" Dad asked quizzically. "Honey, you don't…" he trailed off and looked from her to Liby and back again. "Can I tell you girls something?"

Both nodded.

Dad took a deep breath. "When I was eleven, I fell in love with my sisters and they with me. It was...strange, admittedly, first the actual falling part, you know, because we're family, and then what came after...all of them 'sharing' me. At first, there was a lot of fighting and a lot of jealousy." He chuckled fondly like a man entertaining a particularly precious memory. "Once, Lana smacked Lola over the head with a wrench, and Lola speared her through the sliding glass door. It was like an action movie. Oh, and this one time Lori had Luan in a sleeper hold and Lynn tackled both of them while screaming HEEEEEEE'S MIIIIIIINE!" He laughed richly and brushed a tear away from his face. Liby and Lacy looked at each other with matching expression of puzzlement.

Recovering, he sighed dreamily. "It was rough, but over time, we worked things out. Even now, it can be challenging, but we're created something beautiful. Our relationship is so much stronger than it would be if we weren't related, because our romantic love is built on a solid foundation of familial love. It's...it's an amazing thing, and I've always wanted you girls to have the same with your brother, and for Lemy to have the same with all you girls. I've been hoping for a long time that it would turn out that way, and now that it looks like it is, I'm very happy. And very proud." He squeezed Lacy's hand and smiled at Liby.

"I really like him," Lacy said, "I feel...I feel differently about him than you." She spoke the last part with a wince, as though she expected her father to explode at her.

Instead, he nodded deeply. "That's good, honey, it really is. I want that. I want you all to be happy together. Are you two planning to share?"

Liby nodded. "Yes."

"Good," he replied. "It's not going to be easy, but you made the right decision, girls, you really did. You'll see that eventually. I only hope that you will be open to the idea of the others joining if they feel the same way for Lemy."

Lacy shot him a stricken glance. "Uh, well, I don't know."

"Just...keep it in mind. It's really a wonderful thing."

Lacy nodded. "O-Okay, I will."

Dad smiled. "Is that all?"

"Yes," Liby said, "I think so."

"Good," he said and picked up his sandwich, "go get the boy. After he's done helping Leia, of course."

Liby and Lacy looked at each other.

And smiled.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Lyra laid a black dress on her bed along with a lacy black bra and panty set. She stroked her chin thoughtfully as she considered them.

She was fairly confident in her appearance, and she thought Lemy would like it, but there was always uncertainty; her body wasn't perfect, she had a little bit extra around the stomach and hips - not much but enough that she was just a little self-conscious, especially in situations where she planned to be as sexy and alluring as possible. She didn't do that often - she was grounded and as un-vain as Leia was vain, but every now and then, the situation called for it.

Like now.

Or later, rather.

See, Lyra had this problem: She had tunnel vision. Like her mother, she played music, and hoped to one day make a career of it. She worked hard, practiced endlessly, and tried always to keep her eyes on the future, the gold and glorious light at the end of the tunnel. Sometimes that led her to miss things happening around her...like Lemy's transition from boy to man. It wasn't until this past week that she opened her eyes and realized he was no longer a child. In fact, it was the day Lacy called him a virgin loser and he stormed off. At first, she thought he was mad simply because Lacy insulted him, but when she went to talk to him afterwards, she really looked at him, and it occurred to her for the first time that he was growing up. He was almost thirteen, and if he was anything like she was at that age, he was saturated with hormones and angst; he was probably ashamed of his virginity and...wow, he's probably horny as hell too. He's gotta be hurting.

She wasn't in love with him, but she loved him dearly as a brother, and thus she resolved to willingly and gladly give him her body. The day they went to the river, she played to let him take her, but the thing was: She wanted to make absolutely sure he was ready. She didn't want to push him into doing something he wasn't 100 percent prepared to do. Her goal was to throw herself at him and let him decide what to do.

They did not have sex.

For a while, she thought that maybe he really wasn't ready, but over the past day or two, she came to believe that he was but was too timid to initiate anything. He needed someone - a loving sister - to get the ball rolling.

And tonight, she was going to do just that.

A part of her was still worried that she was wrong and that his attitude had nothing to do with being horny and not having release, so she was going to throw one final test in: She was going to strip for him, and if she saw (or felt) his arousal, she would know to continue; she would do her sisterly duty and make him cum as many times as he wanted, and from there, she would make herself available to him whenever he wanted. It was only fair; she and her sisters had Dad whenever they felt the call of nature, poor Lemy had no one. Well, he had her now, and if that was indeed what was bothering him, she would talk to the others about being with him too. She didn't think they would be against the idea; they probably hadn't noticed junior was coming of age either ( Damn Yankees reference...she could be as bad as Lemy sometimes). And if they weren't willing to help their rockin' little bro out when he needed it, even with all the times he helped them out, fuck it, she'd do it herself.

Now, what should I do to get him warmed up?

That was the question.


The rest of Lemy's day went like this:

*Cue antiquated rock music only I know and like*

Sometimes I think this woman is kinda hot

Sometimes I think this woman is sometimes not

Leia crossed her arms and followed behind as he carried a crate full of lemons from the garage. It was heavy as fuck; his back and knees were bent and his arms trembled. His red face was drawn up in a pained grimace; despite the headband, sweat flowed freely into his eyes.

"Hurry up," Leia spat, "I don't know what's slower, your body or your mind."

He reached the table and dropped the crate onto the ground with a grunt; he fell to one knee and sucked great gulps of air. Goddamn.

Behind him, Leia hummed and tapped her finger against her cheek. "Actually, we don't need this. Take it back."

Lemy sighed.

Puts me down, fools me around

What's she doing to me?

Out for satisfaction, any piece of action

That ain't the way it should be

"Lemy," Leia moaned. She was sitting at the table and he was standing beside her, fanning the dry August air with a sheet of pink construction paper and getting really fucking annoyed. "I'm hot."

Yeah, you are, though. That's why I'm still here.

"Reach into the cooler and get me an ice cube."

Rolling his eyes, he dropped the paper, bent, and opened the lid of the cooler; cans of Coke and bottles of juice jutted from a sea of ice. He picked up a cube, closed the lid, and held it out to Leia. "Uh, no," she said, then reached behind and moved her hair aside. "Rub it on the back of my neck."

Lemy's dick panged. Okay!

Getting behind her, he let his gaze softly caress the nape of her neck, a gentle slope of sunkissed perfection. He held the cube to her flesh and smeared it around slowly. Leia hummed. He wasn't hard a few seconds ago but he was now. He leaned in and breathed deeply through his nose; the sweet smell of her shampoo made his eyes roll back into his head. The cube quickly melted, and her skin was slick, shimmering.

He didn't realize he was kissing her until his lips touched her neck. His fingers slipped into her hair and she gasped as he pressed his lips to her skin and sucked, water tinged with her sweat filling his mouth. "Ummm. Did I say you could kiss me?"

His dick throbbed hotly in his pants. "No," he trembled but didn't stop.

She tilted her head forward to give him better access, and hs massaged her scalp as his lips moved to the side of her throat. He took her earlobe in his mouth and flicked it with his tongue. His passion was leading him and he was powerless to resist. "Hmmm. Okay. Stop kissing me."

"Leia, please…"

"I said stop kissing me." Sharper this time.

On the verge of tears, he obeyed his princess.

She needs love, smells out a man

She's gotta see

Pours my beer, licks my ear

Brings out the devil in me

Hell ain't a bad place to be

"You're not doing it right!"

He was kneeling on the cold, hard concrete of the garage floor, a manual juicer in front of him. H'd been squeezing lemons for half an hour, and had only half a pitcher of lemonade to show for it. He glanced over his shoulder; Leia's arms were crossed over her chest and her hip was cocked to one side in the brattiest fucking pose he'd ever seen. It was also the hottest fucking pose he'd ever seen. "How do I do it?" he asked.

"Figure it out," she said disgustedly, "you're not that stupid."

Spends my money, drinks my booze, stays out every night

And I got to thinking, hey, just a minute, something ain't right

Disillusions and confusion

Make me want to cry

All the same, you lead your games

Tellin' me your lies

Lemy sat a plate before Lizy and one before Leia. On both was a sandwich (Lizy's cut down the middle and Leia's cut into fourths at her demand) and crinkle chips. "Thank you!" Lizy said and picked up one half of her sandwich.

Leia looked up at him. "Sit."

He dropped onto the ground next to her chair and pulled his knees to his chest. This was starting to really get on his nerves. He should -

"Lemy."

He turned his head. Leia was smiling seductively and holding one of the sandwich pieces out. Oh, you're gonna yank it away when I go to get it. Been there, done that.

Still, he leaned over, and to his surprise, she pushed it past his lips, then stroked his cheek with the back of her hand; was it imagination, or was that affection in her eyes?

Don't mind her playin' demon

As long as it's with me

If this is hell

Then let me say

It's heavenly

Hell ain't a bad place to be

Lemy sat the crate back in the garage and returned to the table. His muscles felt like rubber and he was coated in sweat from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He heard something once about people in the army or prison being forced to dig a hole and then fill it back in just because. That's what this was: Carry a crate out, set it down, then carry it back.

At the table, Leia was in her seat talking to a pair of girls, one black with glasses and the other white with shoulder length brown hair. They were both dressed identical to Leia - short pink skirts, bare legs, and sweater vests. Lemy gulped. They were sexy...but not as sexy as his little goddess.

When he walked up, Leia turned her head to him and frowned. "You look hot."

Hyper aware of two sexy ass hotties looking at him, both with smutty smiles and risque eyes, he played it cool. "A little."

Leia grinned. "Why don't you...take off your shirt?"

Lemy sputtered. "M-My shirt?"

She nodded. "Your shirt."

Her friends looked at each other and giggled.

"I'm okay, I…"

"Do it," Leia ordered.

Sighing, he slipped off his vest, tossed it aside, then, with a blush, pulled his shirt over his head, the mid afternoon breeze cold against his slick flesh. He dropped it onto the ground and stole a nervous glance at Leia's buddies. They were both blushing, the white one biting her lower lip and fucking him with her eyes. Holy shit, maybe I should blow this place and try to get with her.

"That's your brother?" the black girl asked.

Leia shot him a haughty look. "Yeah. He's a freak."

"He's pretty cute for a freak," the white girl said, and Lemy choked.

Late at night

Turns down the light

Closes up on me

Opens my heart

Tears me apart

Brings out the devil in me

Hell ain't a bad place to be

The afternoon sun was melting in the east, and the cool of dusk was beginning to creep into the air. Leia turned her chair to face him, and he stood before her like a slave on an auction block, his hands at his sides and his boner poking through his pants. She leaned forward and laid her palms flat on his bare stomach; it quivered under her soft touch. She looked up at him with sparkling eyes. "You're actually not as repulsive as I thought you were."

Lemy blinked. "Uh, t-thank you."

Grinning sinfully, she ran her hands up his chest, her questing fingers grazing his flesh and making him shiver. She giggled and bit her lip; taking her hand away, she curled her finger in a come hither gesture. Lemy bent forward and she sat up straighter. "Kiss me," she commanded.

Heart racing, he tilted his head and met her lips; their tongues danced together in slow, passionate harmony.

She put her palms on his his chest again...and pushed him back. "Alright," she said and turned away, "start packing it up. I'm ready to go inside now." She grinned evilly.

I said

Hell ain't a bad place to be

Hell

Ain't a bad place to be

Hell

Ain't a bad place to be

And in the end, it wasn't.

Hell was a fucking awesome place to be.


Liby and Lacy's day passed like this: Lacy happily kicking her soccer ball in the backyard and Liby finishing off the IRS paperwork she didn't have the time or focus to do yesterday. After talking to Dad about Lemy, Lacy felt much, much better and, truth be told, so did Liby. She decided to share just to avoid conflict with her sister (every good gumshoe knows not to shit where they eat), but after digesting her father's words, she was actually kind of looking forward to this. They could make something beautiful, something special...especially if it stayed just the two of them. She wasn't entirely closed to the idea of sharing with the others, but she really didn't want to have to fight with five or six or more girls just to spend time with Lemy. The same thing happened with Dad, and it was miserable: Lupa and Loan would hog him all day between themselves, and he would barely have any time for anyone else. She could stand it with him because he was Dad, but this was Lemy...her Lemy, and as far as she was concerned, the fewer, the better.

Finishing the tax forms took longer than it should have because her mind kept drifting to Lemy, and every once in a while she'd lean over the desk and crane her neck to see him; the lemonade stand was off to the left, and if she pushed up on her tippy toes, she could just see it. For the most part, he sat on the ground, but now and then she'd glimpse him carrying something or riding off on his bike to make a delivery. How much longer until Leia let him go? She really wanted to sit down with him and see if he was open to her and Lacy loving him. She hoped he was, because it would be a real shame to come this far only to be shot down over home plate. It would be even worse if he shot only one of them down but accepted the other. If it was her he rejected, she would be broken...totally and completely broken. And if it was Lacy, she'd be so upset for her that she wouldn't be able to fully enjoy him...at least for a little while.

Okay, let's not think about that. Worry about these forms.

And she did. An hour later, she finished the last one and slumped back in her chair. Whew. Finally.

She got up, leaned over the desk and looked out the window. Lemy was sitting on the ground. Still being detained. Hm. Maybe some TV?

Shrug. Okay.

She went downstairs and found the living room empty save for Lacy, who sat with her back deeply nestled into the couch and her feet up on the coffee table, her soccer ball sitting in her lap. She glanced up when Liby sat, and they nodded to each other. "Lemy still helping Leia?" Lacy asked.

Liby nodded. "Yep," she said, a note of impatience in her voice.

On TV, pair of cops chased a man through an alley. From the way the camera jostled and shook, Liby inferred that it was Cops. She was on an episode of Cops once: She was working a case when her mark got busted by a couple of screws on beat patrol. You could glimpse her in the background, sitting astride her bike and looking annoyed because now the case would take even longer; can't follow someone when they're in the clink, you have to wait.

Anyway, Lacy sighed. "I'm really stressing about telling him," she said, her eyes fixed on the screen.

Liby nodded. "I kind of am too," she allowed. "If he chooses only one of us...and if it's you...I-I'll accept it." Those words took great effort to speak, and hurt like kidney stones coming out.

Lacy glanced at her with a pained frown, then away. She didn't say anything for a long time. "I will too," she finally heaved.

"I -" Lacy started, but a loud knock at the door cut her off; sounded like a sheriff with warrant, and Liby knew what she was talking about - she'd been with a dozen cops when they served warrants. She went to get up, but Lacy beat her to it, getting to her feet with a sigh and crossing to the door.

She didn't lie when she told Liby she was really stressing, but she omitted something: An extra really. It felt like she was going to be sick, and every moment that passed in anticipation of approaching Lemy stretched into eternity. She was about to go out there and grab him, and if Leia didn't like it, tough tity.

Laying her hand on the knob, she turned it and opened the door.

When she saw who it was, her eyes narrowed.

"Fuckface here?" Juicy asked. She was dressed in a purple sweatsuit, the shirt pushed up to reveal her bulging, stretch mark lined stomach. She dug one dirty sausage finger in her cavernous belly button and flicked a piece of purple lint onto the ground. Dark sweat stains spread from under her arms and beads of same trickled down her doughy face. Orange flecks - from Cheetos probably - dotted the hair on her upper lip, and her beady little eyes shone with deviant light. A breeze caught her stench and shoved it into Lacy's face: Mildew, halitosis, perspiration, and the nauseating scent of dirty armpits.

"What the fuck do you want?" Lacy growled as if she didn't already know. She wanted Lemy...her Lemy. And Liby's.

"I'm here to sex yo' brother up," Juicy replied. "Where he at? Imma suck him 'til he see God."

Hot rage bubbled up in Lacy's chest at the thought of this...thing...touching Lemy. "Get your fat ass out of here unless you want a broken nose."

Juicy's eyes widened, then her pointer finger shot up and her neck rolled. "Oh, I know you did not just say that to Mama Juicy."

"I did," Lacy snarled, "stay away from Lemy. He doesn't want you." With that, she slammed the door and turned, her hands balled into fists and her teeth bared. How fuckng dare that nasty, skanky...woman...come here? She's lucky she didn't plow her in the nose.

Liby was sitting forward and frowning, her hands resting on her knees. "Who was that?" she asked as Lacy dropped next to her.

"Some fat girl who likes Lemy," Lacy replied. She went through what happened at the park yesterday, and Liby's expression went from one of confusion to one of brow-pinched anger. "If she comes back I'm gonna knock her block off," Lacy said and snatched the remote from the coffee table. She threw herself back and changed the channel, her thumb angrly stabbing the button. She cycled through the stations a dozen times over the next half hour as she fumed. Finally, she threw the remote aside and got up. "I'm going to the park," she said, "I need to burn some energy off."

"I'll come with," Liby said and stood, "if I sit around here waiting I'm going to go crazy."

While Lacy went into the backyard to get her soccer ball, Liby went upstairs, got her gun from the safe, and tossed it into her backpack, then slung it over her shoulder. Her Ruger was like American Express: She never left home without it. She made that mistake once and wound up having to fight her way through a team of goons with a block of wood. Have you ever cracked a man in the head with a 2x4? It sends a painful vibration up your arm, and after doing it fifteen or sixteen times, you end up so sore you can barely move. Better than using PVC pipe, though; she did that a few times...took forever to crack a skull with that stuff.

Downstairs she met up with Lacy, and together they went into the garage through the connecting door in the kitchen. "You ever play soccer?" Lacy asked as they crossed to their bikes.

"Not really," Liby said as she grabbed hers from against the wall. It was pink and girly with saddlebags thrown over the back. Inside was an assortment of gear and gadgets, some of it legal, some of it not.

"I'll teach you," Lacy said as she mounted her Huffy. It was red with white trim. She grinned conspiratorially. "Since we're gonna be sister-wives."

Liby chuckled sardonically as she climbed onto her bike. "How about we call ourselves something else?"

"What?" Lacy asked.

Liby thought for a moment. "I dunno," she finally shrugged, "the Loud Crowd?"

They were pedaling down the driveway now, Lacy in the lead. The lemonade stand was off to their left, and Liby glanced over as they passed. Lemy was sitting on the ground and looking up at Leia, who sat in a chair; Leia looked down at him, and the fire in the little girl's eyes made Liby's stomach clutch. Oh, no, another one? Already?

Sigh. You know what they say: Two's company, three's a crowd...and four's a harem.

A block north of the house, they came to a busy intersection. Lacy braked, and Liby came up beside her. She started to mention Leia giving Lemy bedroom eyes, but stopped herself. Best to hold off on that.

The light changed, and they biked across the street, Lacy getting in front again. Ahead, a line of trees marched along the sidewalk. Old houses, their facades brick and their windows bay, looked suspiciously out over the thoroughfare. A man in shorts and a pale yellow polo shirt pushed a mower through his yard, and the sweet smell of freshly cut grass tickled Liby's nose. She loved summer, and it made her sad to know that it was coming to an end: In just a few weeks, school would start, days would grow shorter, and the cold of autumn would begin to creep in. She liked fall enough, but summer was better.

Lacy was far ahead, approaching another intersection. Liby kept a slow, leisurely pace. No need to rush, no need to hurry…

At the intersection, Lacy paused...then suddenly a black panel van appeared and came to a screeching halt. The sliding door on the side flew open, and before Liby could register what was happening, Lacy was being dragged in. "Hey!" the little jock cried and thrashed.

Coming alive, Liby started to pedal, but it was already over; the van peeled off in a squeal of tires.

Liby's heart dropped into her stomach. Someone just abducted Lacy...someone just kidnapped her sister!

Panic threatened to overwhelm her...then Mystery Girl took over: Her crashing heart stiled, her breathing calmed, and her mind instantly switched tracks like a train. She was no longer a chipper lass on her way to the park, she was a cool and collected sleuth.

Throwing caution to the wind, she veered into the street and crossed to the other side, her legs pumping furiously. On the sidewalk running along the street the van had gone down, she saw it coming to a stop at a red light. Leaning over the handlebars to cut down on wind resistance, she pumped her legs faster; she was sailing now, the wind rushing over her. When she was close, she slowed, let go of one bar, and reached behind her into the saddlebag to her left. Come on, come on, come on! Her fingers closed on something and she pulled it out. A plastic gun with a red stripe along the side. Yes!

The light changed, and Liby's heart jerked. Steering with one hand, she followed as best she could: It was far ahead, but not too far. She lifted the gun, stared down the sight, and pulled the trigger. A homing device no bigger than a Tic-Tac hit the rusted rear bumper and stuck like glue. Ha!

She shoved the gun back into the saddlebag as the van turned a corner and disappeared. She whipped out her phone and called up a map of Royal Woods: The van appeared as a blinking red blip heading northwest on Pine Street. Liby took a hard right, zipped halfway down Morris, a narrow lane running behind a rush of lower middle class houses, then took a left through someone's yard and came out onto Pine. The van was just turning onto Rosedale; they were on the edge of Royal Woods' industrial section now, ancient smokestacks long dead rising into the air like the bones of prehistoric creatures, and crumbling factories surrounded by chain link fences growing up along the street. She glanced down at the screen just as the van stopped. Two blocks over.

Mystery Girl grinned.

Got your asses, you sorry sister stealing sons of bitches; get ready for the pain.

Because here it comes.