Late the next afternoon, Lincoln sat on his bed with some random-ass paperback novel he found in the living room. The synopsis on the back said it was about a serial killer in Venice so his mistook it for being halfway cool. So far, it was slower than that third stimulus check. He would have noped out but there was serious sexual tension between the two main characters and Lincoln was sorely hoping to see them bone.

She looked at him, conflicted, then back to the road. He did not remove his hand and she did not ask him too. "No," she said, "I just didn't think you could be away from your father's firm that long."

"Oh, I quit that job."

Lenzi gaped at him. "Why? It was a good job."

"I just wanted to," he said defensively.

There were many reasons that he didn't want to work for his father, but he already knew that putting them into words would make him sound like a spoiled brat. He didn't like waking up so early and getting home so late; he didn't like being stuck in a stuffy office all day; he especially didn't like missing out on all the good things life had to offer, things that working class normies don't even know exist...or can't afford. His father's office was a prison and every day there was like a life sentence. The thought of doing it or something similar for the rest of his life made him feel trapped.

Maybe some people can do that, but not him.

No, thank you.

"You have to work some time," Lenzi said. "You can't avoid it forever."

Carter stroked her leg. "We can't all live on an inheritance."

"Exactly," she said and pulled away, leaving his hand empty and cold. "If I didn't have an inheritance, I would work too, and I would want a job like the one you had."

Sighing, Carter yanked his hand away and crossed his arms like a sullen child. 'I don't mean to be overbearing," Lenzi said. "I just want you to do what is best for yourself."

Oh, come on, I don't care what's best for either of you, now get naked and do the deed already, sheesh. What was it with millennials and zoomers when it came to sex? They were so fucking prudish. Sure, you have people like Lincoln who were totally DTF any time, anywhere, but you also had a bunch of pink haired butches who acted like sex and sexuality were the most disgusting things ever. There were tons of people like that in the Ace Savvy fandom; they recoiled at any hint of human sexualitty and accused anyone who expressed even the slightest interest in "The Deed" of being a horrible human being. Why? Why were they like that? Lincoln honestly didn't get it. On the other hand, fandoms, online communities, and social media sites encouraged the absolute worst people to be the shittiest version of themselves so he guessed it wasn't too shocking. The cool new thing is to be righteous and morally superior to everyone else. Everyone's holier than thou, and if they can find something to sneer at and look down on, they will. For some people, it's sex and porn and stuff.

Lincoln called those people...well, he didn't call them anything. The best approach is to just ignore their stupid asses. They thrive on cloud and attention, and if you deny them those things, they eventually fuck off and die.

At that same moment, Lucy Bava appeared at the top of the stars, her eyes hidden behind a pair of big sunglasses and her purse slung over her shoulder.

Oh, look, her name is Lucy too. Speaking of, that's probably who this dumb book belonged to in the first place. Lucy was always leaving books and magazines scattered around the house. Bookworms...can't live with them, can't cane them.

Seriously, what was with her goth thing anyway? Look, he loved goffs just as much as the next guy, and really wanted to fuck one (which is why Lucy was on his short list to be in his harem), but he ddn't understand why she moped around in all black. Their family was kind of poor but damn, they weren't so poor that they were miserable or anything. They lived in a relatively nice house in a middle class neighborhood and always had what they needed. Lucy really had no reason to be the way she was. God love her, Lincoln thought she was a total poser. Look, it's one thing to like horror and stuff but another to literally say "sigh."

Whatever, though.

Back to reading.

Identical to Lenzi in every way, Lucy was her sister's opposite in a power suit and heels. She lived and Lenzi both lived in Venice proper, but while Lenzi occupied a richly furnished apartment in one of the better neighborhoods, Lucy lived in a tiny house near the canal in an area that was home to working class types who weren't poor but weren;t rich either. Whereas Lenzi chose to live off their shared inheritance, Lucy worked for the newspaper as a reporter and wrote short stories in her free time. One of them, The Garden of Many Nights, had been published in a national literary magazine and was popular enough that she was known from one end of Italy to the other for it. Lenzi was soft and feminine, Lucy projected strength. Lenzi blushed at dirty jokes, Lucy told them. Leni drink fruity cocktails, Lucy drank whiskey. They were a study in contrasts but they were equally kind and beautiful.

Holy shit, this was basically Lana and Lola. Lola was frilly and pink and girly, and Lana was rough and tumble. They were too young to have ever had alcohol but he just knew Lola would go for fruity, faggy drinks while Lana would chug whiskey like a fish.

Speaking of Lana and Lola, it was about time to put his plan into action.

His stomach did a slow, cumbersome roll and he took a deep breath. Truth be told, he was nervous. The future of his harem, indeed, the future of him, depended on this. if he messed up and spooked Lola, his life would pretty much be done for. He'd wind up in jail like that Josh Duggar guy and branded a sicko for trying to groom and molest his little sister. He'd probably have to register as a sex offender if he made it out of juvie. They hate sex offenders in jail and rouinly beat, rape, and torture them.

That was almost enough to discourage him.

Almost.

Setting the book aside, Lincoln swung his legs over the side of the bed and got to his feet.

Let's do this thing.

The first order of business was getting Lana out of the way and keeping her out of the way until he was done creampie-ing Lola. He had devised the perfect distraction. First, he tracked Lana down to hers and Lola's bedroom. Lola was having a tea party with a motley crew of dolls, stuffed animals, and a random Hulk Hogan plush Lincoln found in a thrift store. The initials J.V. were scrawled on the tag in marker so faded as to be barely legible. Lincoln had no idea who J.V. was but he had shitty taste in pro wrestlers: Hogan was a whiny backstage politician who snitched people out to management. The best wrestler was Brock Lesner, hands down. Dude was a beast.

Lana knelt by a plastic enclosure housing a host of different bugs, none of which got along together. She watched them teem and swarm with wide, blazing eyes and a big gap tooth grin. "Yeah," she said and pressed her face to the side, "fight...fight for my amusement."

And he was the weirdo?

That's American culture for you. Violence in primetime and...EW GOD SEX NO.

"Hey, Lana," he said.

Lola looked up from what she was doing and beamed at him. "Hi, Lincy!"

"Hey," he said, then to Lana, "I got something even better than dumb old bugs."

Whipping around, Lana's eyes widened. "What?"

"You know that bush at the corner of Franklin and Dale?"

She nodded eagerly.

"There's a dead cat in there."

Lana's jaw dropped.

Pulling a stick out of thin air, Lincoln handed it to her. "It's not gonna poke itself."

Taking the stick, Lana jumped to her feet. "Thanks, Linc!"

With that, she scampered off, leaving Lincoln and Lola alone. Lincoln went over to the door and shut it, thumbing the lock in the process. He turned around and went over to the table, sitting next to Lola. "Why are you letting her poke a dead cat?" Lola asked, an edge of disgust in her voice. "That's so gross."

Lincoln shrugged. "I just wanted to spend time with you. That's all."

A smile carved across her face. "Well...in that." She picked up a pink plastic kettle. "Tea?"

"Ummm, no, I have a different game we can play."

"What's that?" Lola asked.

Without giving her time to react, he pounced, digging his fingers into her stomach. Lola jumped a foot and let out a delighted squeal. "Stop!" she screamed. "Nooooo!"

He let up, then attacked again. She tossed her head from side to side and tried to get away; she wound up falling from the chair and hitting the floor with a loud thud. Lincoln stayed on top of her, caging her legs between her knees and pressing his crotch against her, just as much to keep her from kneeing his berries as to feel her writhing, squirming little body. She whipped her head back and forth and battered him with weak fists. "Stop!" she screamed.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked.

"Yes!"

"Okay," he said and leaned in, "but you have to give me a kiss first."

Lola went on throwing her head and pounding his chest. Lincoln redoubled his assault and she squealed. "Okay! Okay!"

Letting up, Lincoln hovered his face over hers, the tips of their noses brushing. Lola's eyes locked with his and her breath caught. A deep red blush burst across her face and her pupils dilated slightly as if with understanding. Lincoln tilted his head and pressed his lips to hers and drank in the sweet taste of her breath. Her movements had ceased and she lay completely still.

Instead of jamming his tongue into her mouth like he wanted to, Lincoln pecked her lips then sat up. Lola stared up at him in confusion, and he tickled her with one hand, sending a jolt through her. "Did I say I wanted a kiss? I meant I wanted you to call me daddy."

To make his point, he tickled her harder. "Daddy!" she cried.

Lincoln was hard now and began to grind his boner against her.

"Give me your underwear," he said.

She lifted her back off the floor and he yanked off her panties, but he went back to tickling her. Before long, she was a panting, quivering puddle of girl. She begged him to stop between breaths. "I'll do anything you want," she said. "Anything. I promise."

"Anything?" Lincoln asked.

He snaked his hand up Lola's dress and cupped her pussy. She jumped a little but she was too spent from being tickled to resist. Her skin was soft and warm, wet heat rising from her opening. "Anything?" Lincoln asked again.

Biting her bottom lip, Lola nodded.

Lincoln grinned.

He brushed his thumb along her slit and sank his middle finger into her folds. She let out a soft moan and dug her heels into the floor, propping her legs up in an M. Lincoln's heart slammed and his dick leaked into his underwear. He found the pool of moisture signifying her entrance and circled it with his finger. Lola's face turned bright red and her eyes filled with lustful haze.

Pushing her dress up over her tiny breasts, he placed a butterfly kiss on her skin, reveling in its clean scent. He kissed her breasts, her pink nipples, flicked out his tongue, sucked her flesh into his mouth and left hickies.

He was marking his territory.

He kissed lower and lower until his face was between her thighs, her pink folds inches from his nose. Her wet heat broke across his face and the musky scent of her snatch made him harder than he could ever remember being.

Lincoln's plan was to take his time with her and explore every single inch of her body to sate his virginal curiosity but he found himself unbuckling his belt and yanking his pants and underwear down over his rigid cock. He spread her legs as far as they would go and thrusted, rubbing his dick between her lips. When he felt her wetness against his tip, he jerked his hips and plunged into his little sister's tight honeypot. Lola's eyes bugged from their sockets and she let out a strangled cry. The feeling of her slick walls wrapping themselves around his dick was like nothing he had ever experienced before and a gasp broke from his throat. He began to mindlessly pump, and Lola threw her head back, teeth bared in pain. She fisted her gloved hands and Lincoln closed his own hands over them, holding her in place.

It didn't take long for Lola's pain to give way to pleasure. She clamped her knees to his hips, ran her hands over his back, and took a series of deep breaths.

When Lincoln felt himself beginning to cum, he leaned into the fall and went even faster, pounding Lola's tender little cervix three times before his end came. His dick swelled in her guts and they both moaned; hot lead shot deep into her and she screamed his name.

Once it was over, Lincoln rolled off of her and stretched out on his side. As soon as they had caught their breaths, Lola started to kiss and caress his chest, her hands wandering over his body and her sizzling saliva raking goosebumps up and down his back. His eyes rolled back in his head and he bit his lower lip, his hips reflexively beginning to rock. Lola reached his dick and trailed the tip of her tongue over the shaft and head, collecting their mingled juices. Her hot breath and wet mouth brought him back to full attention and she wrapped her lips around the head. Lincoln tangled his fingers in her hair and guided her up and down. His dick touched the back of her throat and she gagged, but she was too high on the taste of cock to stop.

Before Lincoln came, he pushed her away, flipped her over, and shoved her face into a pink, overstuffed pillow. Her pale little booty was his for the plundering.

He peeled her sticky cheeks apart and took a moment to admire her moist, pink center before jamming himself into her from behind. Lola moaned and Lincoln closed his hands over the backs of hers, holding her against the bed as he began to thrust. He buried his nose in Lola's hair and sniffed deeply as he rutted her. He kissed the side of her head, her throat, and her cheek, already close. He tried to hold back but her soft pants and whines pushed him over the edge, and his load spilled out of him in an uncontrollable rush. For the second time in less than ten minutes, his little sister was filled to the brim with his seed.

Done, he lay on the bed winded. Lola curled up next to him and looked up at his face with big, adoring eyes. Lincoln slipped his thumb under her chin and kissed her.

"You're my rock, Lola," he said, "upon you, I will build my harem."

"My life for you," Lola said dreamily.