Life is a tightrope act: At any moment, you can topple off and plummet to your death. Not literally. Meta...what was that word? Lisa used it all the time. It meant, basically, a saying. You know what I mean. 'Don't count your chickens before they hatch.' That's an expression. No one's really sitting there counting eggs and thinking of all the awesome stuff they're going to buy once they hatch into chickens and command twenty bucks a pop at the market. At least not in this day and age. What was that freaking word? Metamucil? Metaphysical? Metaphor?

Whatever it was, it was pretty darn apt. Walking the straight and narrow isn't always easy, and if you aren't careful, you'll stray off the path.

That was another one of those meta-thingies. Straight and narrow. To some people, the straight and narrow meant "following the law" but to Lynn Loud it meant "succeeding". More or less. The straight and narrow path was the one that led into the Promised Land of a career, money, and accomplishment. Straying from it came in many forms: Getting fired from your job, going homeless, blowing all your money at the craps table, losing your house and everything you own in a fire. There were so many different ways to fuck up and set yourself back, some in your control and some out of your control, and they lurked just off the path like monsters in a child's fairytale. If you weren't vigilant and on your guard, focused on every step with laser-like intensity, you would find yourself being snatched up and sprinted back to their lair to be covered in digestive juices and slowly consumed over a period of weeks.

Trust her.

She knew first hand.

Lynn Loud Jr., known across Royal County as 63 because that was her number on the basketball court (where she led Royal County High to the state championship...twice) was not the kind of girl who got into trouble. Some kids smoke dope, skip school, and fight, but Lynn was a jock through and through. She trained, played sports, and trained some more. She was conscious of her health and physical fitness and didn't poison her body with drugs or alcohol. She could fight, and fight well, if she had to, but fighting was a good way to get in MAJOR TROUBLE. If she hauled off and punched someone for whatever reason, she could get suspended and kicked off the team, letting down her coach, her teammates, the whole school, and, worse, herself. As captain of the team, she had to not only be there for her girls, she had to set a positive example.

Maybe it was dumb, but she took that very seriously. The other girls on the team looked up to her and she wanted to be a good role model for them. What kind of good role model gets drunk and high and then comes into practice late and hungover? What kind of good role model shows up like something the cat dragged in and puts extra strain on everyone else because she's not 100 percent? Not any role model Lynn wanted to be. She held herself to a high standard and demanded perfection of herself. She fell short because she was only human, but that's the thing: It's not about winning or losing, it's about how you play the game. You're not going to be perfect, but if you try, you can only do well. If you don't - if you dismiss it as too hard - you won't. End of story.

Lynn approached everything she did with a single goal: To own it. When she hit the basketball court, she was in it to win it. She knew she wouldn't win every game or kill every dunk, but if she did her best and played well, she could walk away with her head held high. Losing didn't bother her, it happens, but letting herself lose was a different story altogether. If you do your best and your best wasn't good enough, well, hey, it is what it is. But if you don't even put your heart into it, that was squarely on you. A lot of people are happy with the bare minimum. They're okay with just scraping by. Mediocrity is their philosophy and slacking is their creed. They work the drive-thru at McDonald's, live in rundown trailers, and do nothing with their lives...and they're content. Lynn never understood that mindset. She didn't necessarily want to live in a mansion and be famous (though that would be freaking awesome), but she couldn't see herself settling.

Society is full of settlers, people who pick a tiny little spot for themselves and camp like snipers in Call of Duty. If that's what makes you happy...okay, I guess, but why? Why would you be okay with anything less than the best? Don't you think you're worth it? Don't you think you deserve the best you can possibly get?

Others probably saw it differently and that was okay. One thing being captain of the basketball team had taught her was that people have their own perspectives and that you just have to accept it. There were fundamental rights and wrongs, point of view aside (the sky is blue, water is a liquid), but there are many matters that boil down to values. Some people wanted to be rich, some people wanted to be attractive, some wanted the best, and some just didn't care. Lynn believed in doing her best. Lana, on the other hand, was the kind of person who could live in a trailer, work a dead end job, and be cool with it. Why? Because her mind, and her heart, weren't in exactly the same place as Lynn's.

Accepting opposing viewpoints when you're so entrenched in your own is one of the hardest things you can do. In today's world, everyone is so polarized that agreeing to disagree doesn't happen as much as it should. Each person believes that they and they alone know and understand the truth and that anyone who doesn't subscribe to the same exact set of beliefs is wrong...and not only that, willfully wrong. The way we see things is so crystal clear to us that we subconsciously assume that what we see must be just as clear to everyone else. For instance, let's say you think gendered words like "daughter" and "father" are sexist or whatever. You likely arrived at that conclusion through a logical progression of thought that - whether you want to believe it or not - was informed by your unique biases, opinions, and life experiences. To you, those words being sexist makes perfect sense. To the next guy, coming at it with his own biases, opinions, and life experiences, it makes no sense whatsoever.

In that scenario, who is right?

Both.

And neither.

Because it is a matter of perspective. There is no absolute right or wrong. Lynn, personally, thought gendered terms were fine. Like who gives a rat's ass? But her head wasn't in the kind of space where gendered terms mattered one way or another. She was too busy comforting and encouraging her teammates to get shitty over someone using (or not using) the word daughter.

People nitpick over the smallest thing.

In her opinion, that was a byproduct of living in an advanced nation where all the frontiers had been charted and explored and all the gravest injustices righted. Women can vote, women can be Vice President, women can do anything. The people who built their very identity on fighting the patriarchy or whatever found themselves on an empty battlefield with a few wounded and dying opponents, and went oh, shit, what do we do now? Without an active army to fight - ie, sexists being sexist and everyone just letting it happen - they went into the village and started massacring civilians. This person is using gender-specific language? BLAM! Playing cards have a "King" and "Queen"? BLAM! This person said there are certain biological differences between sexes? BLAM!

It all went back to people settling. They had no goals and nothing to occupy their time or headspace, so they worried about dumb shit. If someone's a sexist, punch them and be done with it.

Then again, you know, straight and narrow. You can't do whatever you want whenever you want. You have to be disciplined. Lynn bought wholeheartedly into structure and discipline. Those were great ways to stay on that straight and narrow. During high school, she considered joining the military but she wasn't entirely sold on the idea and wanted to keep her options open. She expected to win a basketball scholarship to a good college, but she wasn't sure about that either. Everyone placed such a high value on going to college, but from what she had read, college degrees were becoming increasingly irrelevant. She'd be better off going to a technical school and learning a trade than she would be earning a degree in a small and highly-specialized field. Going to college was a good way to go into debt just to wind up waiting tables.

She wasn't naive enough to think she would become a pro basketball player - talk about small and highly-specialized fields - so she couldn't bank on that either.

Overall, though, she wasn't stressing it. She was eighteen and less than a month out of high school. It was early summer in Michigan, the sky was blue, and she had all the time in the world to decide what she would do with her life. She had a part time job at the gym in town that turned into a full-time position when she graduated, and she had just bought a new car. Well, it wasn't new, but it was new to her, a red 2020 Ford Focus. She got it at a great deal because it needed a lot of work. Lucky for her, one of her younger sisters was a total gear head who worked on cars for fun. Even now, it didn't run the best, but it got her from Point A to Point B and didn't use too much gas, so she was happy with it.

Now, you might call her a hypocrite for settling, but sometimes, you have to settle for something temporarily. It's like stopping to rest on a mountain climb. Settlers were people who sat on a rock outcropping, looked up at the summit, and said, "Eh, this is fine." A Lynn Loud caught her breath and went on with dogged determination. They reached the top, did an end zone dance, and made that mountain their bitch.

The Focus wasn't her forever car, it was her for right now car.

Even so, she liked it. It had a rear view camera, bluetooth, Sirius XM radio (featuring sports channels out the ying-yang), and ice cold A/C, all important in the depths of a Michigan summer. She had been saving up for this bad boy for years and finally having a car was the coolest thing ever. She no longer had to walk or take the bus, she could just hop into the whip. No longer was she confined to the town of Royal Woods. She could drive anywhere her heart desired (and her work schedule allowed). The sky was the limit and she had a new sense of freedom that was burning a hole in her pocket. In the two weeks since Lana pronounced the Focus roadworthy, she had driven every avenue, side street, farm road, and country highway in Royal County, making an endless circuit. Pop-Pop said that in the old days, teenagers would drive around with no destination in mind. They called it "Cruising". That struck Lynn as mega retro (in a cool way) so she started calling her little jaunts cruises.

Sometimes she went alone and listened to the radio, but more often, she brought someone with her. Lucy, Lola, Lisa, Lana, and Lily all came along at one point or another, but they didn't want to just drive for the sake of driving, they wanted to go somewhere, Lola to the mall, Lana to the junkyard to look for castoff auto parts, Lisa to the library. The only person who liked to just ride was Lincoln.

And Lynn was happy with that.

Lynn and Lincoln were close. She was closer in age to him than she was to a lot of her sisters and they had always been paired together because of that. Before Lucy was born (and for a while afterward), they shared a room together, bathed together, and played together, along with Luan. Lynn and Lincoln would spend hours in the backyard digging through the dirt, racing Tonka trucks back and forth, and bickering over who got to go first or play with what. They watched cartoons together, ate ice cream together - in fact, they did pretty much everything together.

As time passed and their family grew, they kind of drifted apart. Lynn would find herself missing him even though he was sitting right across from her and wishing things could go back to being the way they used to be. She wanted their old relationship back and her way of going about it by forcing him to play sports with her. Hey, you're supposed to share what you love with who you love, right? And she loved Lincoln, therefore she shared sports with him, whether he liked it or not.

And he didn't like it.

See, Lincoln was...how do you say...kind of a pansy. He liked art and poetry and reading comic books. He was built like a spaghetti noodle and got winded really easy. He was all pasty and junk from staying inside all the time. Lynn justified virtually bullying him into playing with her by telling herself that getting out and getting active would be good for him. Lincoln didn't see it that way. He saw it as her bossing him around and "being mean." She didn't let up, though. She would taunt him about his puny size, scrawny arms, and general lameitude. She knew he was like her in that taunts would make him want to prove himself, and she was right. Before long, he was catching every football she drilled at him and evading her famous flying tackles.

"I'm proud of you, Linc," she said one day and slapped his ass.

Lincoln donned an evil grin. "Go long."

That day, he hit her so hard in the chest with the ball that it left a bruise.

She was so damn proud she teared up.

Once Lincoln had mastered football, they moved onto basketball, her specialty, and then to slap boxing. To her shock, Lincoln was a natural at the latter, and every time they threw hands, he left her face numb and her mouth bleeding. Lincoln got really into fitness: He looked great, he felt great, and...did she mention how great he looked? By the time he was thirteen, he had abs and muscles in his arms. Lynn knew it was messed up to look at your brother...you know...that way...but she couldn't help it. He was cut like a freaking diamond and kind of hot too. His pecs were yum, his abdominal V drew her attention to his crotch, and his newfound swagger drew her like he was honey and she a thirsty little fly.

There was no way she could explain the attraction she developed toward Lincoln and sound like a rational human being. She could wax philosophical about their bond or blame her raging teenage hormones (which, to be honest, didn't even rage that hard) but at the end of the day, she couldn't really account for it. In retrospect, she could only say that after she got him in shape, Lincoln was the perfect storm of a man. He was confident but not arrogant, strong but intelligent, attractive but deep. Their relationship was built on a solid foundation of familial love and had been forged when they were young. They grew into each other the way an infant grows into its language. Lincoln had (almost) always been there and she had always been closer to him than she was to any of her other siblings, except maybe for Lucy and Luan.

Lincoln was special to begin with, but after they started training and playing sports together, he morphed into her perfect man.

At first, she told herself that he was only the archetype of her perfect man. She didn't have a crush on him or anything, heh, that would be weird, but he was everything she wanted in a guy. She wasn't overly concerned with finding someone to date - she had a full and active life and couldn't make time for a boy anyway - but when she did toss the ol' line into the dating pool, she was gunning for a guy like Lincoln.

Somewhere along the line, she started gunning for Lincoln himself. It was a slow process that took place over several years. It began as an "innocent" appreciation of his body (looking, leering, nodding her head as if to say this...this ALL DAY) and turned into luring him into football and basketball games just so she could cop feels. Come on, his body looked really good, and call her what you will, she couldn't resist feeling it up. She tried to pass those fleeting touches off as accidents, but Lincoln wasn't dumb, he knew she was doing it on purpose...just not why. Maybe he thought she was trying to rattle him so he'd be off his game. To be fair, that's totally the kind of thing she would do. One time, they were playing basketball in the driveway and Lynn grabbed between his legs and he responded by squeezing her tit so hard she yelped.

In her defense, she didn't mean to touch him there. She was trying to feel his abs (for the fifth time that game, they were so addictive), but he moved at the last minute and she wound up with a handful of dick. She blushed furiously with embarrassment and felt dirty for the rest of the day. Alone that night, however, she couldn't stop thinking about its shape and size, about the way it filled her palm. She felt a little pinch between her thighs and realized with a disgusted gasp that she was getting turned on.

Ew! Gross!

It's one thing to run your hands over his rippling muscles but quite another to get tingly in your pussy. Jesus, what's wrong with you, Lynn?

But, Lynn...he's hot.

Well, I can't argue with you there, Lynn.

I'll spare you the weeks and months of excruciating denial, anguish, and self-justification she endured as she battled her budding feelings for her little brother. She was a fighter but she lost that battle. She lost it hard.

At least it wasn't her fault.

It was her friend Margo's.

Margo - she of the big nose and buck teeth - was on Lynn's middle school softball team, and they became friends over the span of a dozen-game season. Margo was a lot like Lynn in many respects, but she lacked Lynn's confidence. She was fast, she could crack a ball, and she wasn't afraid of anything, but she was really shy around boys. She never said so out loud, but she had low-esteem because she was kind of ugly. You could tell from her self-deprecating humor and occasional bouts of depression. Not the serious medical-grade I'm-gonna-kill-myself depression, but there were days when she exuded sadness like a cartoonish cloud of stink. When she wasn't sad, she was hilarious. She talked like a sailor (fuck this and fuck that) and could roast everyone around her just as well as she could roast herself. She kept the entire team in stitches and turned the few sleepovers she, Lynn, and the others had into laff riots. Imagine Luan...only actually funny, and you had Margo.

In freshman year, Lynn and Margo drifted apart, Lynn joining the basketball team and Margo signing up for roller derby along with their other friend Polly Pain, They ate lunch together and occasionally hung out after school when their schedules aligned (which didn't happen often), but they weren't as tight as they once were. Like she did with Lincoln, Lynn got sentimental and started to miss Margo.

One day in junior year, Lynn invited Margo to a sleepover, just the two of them. She banished Lucy to Lola and Lana's room with a bedroll and a "see ya, wouldn't wanna be ya" and eagerly awaited her girl night with Margo. Margo showed up just before dinner and Lynn swept her into a spine-shattering hug. "Ow, my bones," Margo gasped.

"Sorry," Lynn said, releasing her. She was so giddy that she couldn't help herself, and hit Margo's arm with a punch. "Wanna play some ball?"

"Sure.'

In the backyard, they tossed the football back and forth and talked, catching up with one another. Lincoln came out with a bag of trash, stripped to the waist. Margo turned to look at him, and her jaw dropped. Lynn threw a pass and the ball whizzed by her blushing face, missing it by bare inches. What was with her? Lynn started to call out but stopped herself when she realized what was going on. Have you ever heard the term "eyefucking"? That's what Margo was doing to Lincoln, and Lynn understood in an instant.

Once Lincoln was gone, Lynn walked over and stood next to Margo, her arms crossing over her chest and a knowing smile touching her lips. She had the vague idea that Margo would shyly deny checking Lincoln out, but Margo surprised her. "Your brother's hot," she said.

"I whipped him into shape," Lynn said with a beam because saying Yeah, he is hot, might sound a little weird.

"He's really cute," Margo said dreamily.

Lynn slapped her back. "You should ask him out."

A look of terror crept into Margo's eyes and she looked quickly down at her shoes. "No, I-I can't."

"Why not?" Lynn asked.

Margo cast abou for an answer. "He's your brother," she said. It was clear from her tone that that wasn't the reason at all.

"So?" Lynn asked with a shrug. "I don't care."

Only on some level, she did, but she couldn't date him or anything, no matter how amazing he was, so why not fix him up with Margo? Margo was amazing herself and she could really use a guy like Lincoln.

"It just seems weird to me," Margo said.

Lynn didn't press the matter, but she decided right then and there to hook Margo and Lincoln up.

And she had the perfect plan.

That night, after everyone else had gone to bed, Lynn dragged Margo into Lincoln's room. A crack of light shone under the door and the muffled sounds of a video game found their ears. Lynn went in without knocking because knocking is for sissies and Margo came hesitantly after. Lincoln sat on the floor in just a back of basketball shorts, his back against the bed and a video game controller in his lap. Onscreen, Communist Vampires swarmed the grand ballroom of a decaying castle, and Lincoln's character shot them. Lincoln glanced up, then nonchalantly back to the screen. "What's up?" he asked.

"We wanna play," Lynn said.

"Alright," Lincoln said, "let me finish off this wave."

Lynn sat on Lincoln's right and Margo on his left. A red blush colored Margo's cheeks and she looked endlessly uncomfortable, like she was sitting on a thumbtack. Lincoln's character died, and he plugged in a second controller, handing his to Margo. "Thanks," she said, her voice unusually timid.

"You're welcome."

Lynn and Margo played a death match, hunting each other through a labyrinth of corridors with big freaking guns while Lincoln crossed his arms and watched. Margo was stiff and anxious and kept stealing sidelong glances at Lincoln. To loosen her up, Lynn started trash talking. Margo loved trash talking; it was her forte, after all. A wicked gleam flickered in Margo's eye, and in minutes, she was talking shit back.

Once Margo was relaxed, Lynn sat her controller on the floor. "This is gay. I wanna play another game."

"What game?" Lincoln asked.

She grinned. "Truth or dare."

Lincoln raised his brow. "That's a kid's game."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is," Lincoln shot back. "It's literally a kiddie game."

Lynn's grin widened. "Not the way we play it. RIght, Margo?"

Margo's mouth opened and closed, lending her the appearance of a stricken fish. "I-I guess," she stammered, her blush deepening.

"Come on," Lynn said, "it'll be fun."

Lincoln favored her with a contemplative look then shrugged one shoulder. "Whatever. Who's going first?"

"Me," Lynn said.

She started small (Lincoln, is it true that you once stole twenty dollars from Lori's purse?). After a few of those little icebreakers, she hit Lincoln with the Big One. "Lincoln, I dare you to kiss Margo. With tongue."

Margo's face went white and Lincoln flinched in surprise. "No!" Margo cried in horror.

"Yes," Lynn said. "You have to do it or you lose."

"I lose," Margo said.

Time to switch tactics. "Why? Is there something wrong with my brother? You don't want to kiss him?"

"No," Margo said, "I just...don't want to." Her face was fire engine red and she trembled lightly like a small, frightened animal. "Nothing against you, Lincoln."

Lincoln started to say something (probably it's okay, I understand because he was so caring and compassionate), but Lynn cut him off. "So you're just a big chicken then. Okay. I always knew you were a bitch."

"I'm not -"

"Yes you are," Lynn said savagely. "You're a pussy. You're probably afraid he'll taste your nasty breath. Can you even kiss someone, or will your giant honker get in the way?"

Margo's face hardened and her hands clutched into fists. Ha. Got'cha.

"Look," Lincoln said, "it's -"

"Fine," Margo said. She got on her knees and faced Lincoln. "Let's do it."

Now it was Lincoln's turn to look uncomfortable. "We don't have to…"

"Yes you do," Lynn said. She couldn't use reverse psychology on him because he was too smart for that, but she could appeal to his kind heart. Manipulating his emotions made her feel kind of bad, but it was for a good cause. He and Margo would make an epic couple, she just knew it. "Or you'll hurt Margo's feelings. She's very sensitive. I'm not even playing. If you don't do it, you'll have her thinking she's a disgusting freak or something."

Margo glared at her. "Screw you, Lynn."

"All you have to do is kiss her. Jesus, it's not that big a deal."

Lincoln sighed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He knelt before Margo, their knees touching. She nervously chewed her bottom lip and he looked past her, focusing on some point in the distance. He was blushing now too. Had he ever kissed a girl before? Aside from Ronnie Anne, he'd never had a girlfriend, despite being kind, handsome, and ripped like Spongebob's pants. She didn't make it a point to pry into his personal life, though.

"You guys gonna do it?" she urged.

Lincoln and Margo's eyes met. Nervous tension filled the air. Lincoln's Adams apple bobbed up and down and Margo's fingers worried the fabric of her checkered lounge pants. Lincoln took a deep breath and asked, "Are you ready?"

"Yes," Margo said, her voice a timid squeak.

Neither one did anything.

"Go on," Lynn said, "do it." Her stomach clutched with anticipation and her heart beat an unsteady tempo.

Lincoln and Margo leaned tentatively into each other and tilted their heads. Lynn balled her hands into fists and leered at them like an eager spectator at a blood-soaked gladiator fight. Their lips touched and they both closed their eyes in embarrassment. Lincoln flicked his tongue over her bottom lip, and Margo went rigid, her breathing catching with an audible hitch. Lynn felt that familiar stirring in her center. Suddenly, she was hot from head to toe and her body prickled from head to toe, but especially in one special place.

When Margo and Lincoln pulled apart, they were both blushing and breathing heavy, a strand of saliva connecting their lips. Margo looked away and Lincoln darted his eyes to Lynn. "There," he said.

"Good," Lynn said.

Next, Lincoln dared her to kiss Margo with tongue. Lynn and Margo both crinkled their faces. "You have to do it," Lincoln said, assuming the same smug tone as Lynn.

Lynn Loud was not one to be shown up, so she metaphorically pinched her nose and French kissed Margo, their tongues flopping clumsily around the other's mouth for almost a full minute before Margo whipped her head away. "That's weird," she said.

"Was kissing Lincoln better?"

She hesitated, then gave a bashful nod. "Yeah," she said.

Lynn looked to Lincoln for a response, but all she got was that cocky little smile. I made you kiss a girl, it said, haha.

"Alright, motherfucker," she said, "dare time."

Lincoln smirked.

"Show Margo your dick."

Lincoln's smile faltered, but he quickly recovered. One of the biggest lessons Lynn had taught him was to never show your opponent they were getting to you. Smile and talk trash even as you die. That was waaay better than looking like a bitch.

"Lynn!" Margo cried.

Ignoring her, Lynn said, "I bet you're too chickenshit. It's probably really small. I bet it's an innie. It's an innie, isn't it?"

"Okay," Margo said, "this is going -"

Lincoln fixed Lynn with a challenging gaze, reached into his shorts, and pulled out his dick. Lynn and Margo's eyes both flickered immediately to it, Lynn's heart stopping dead in its tracks and Margo scking a sharp intake of breath. Lincoln's dick hooked limply over the waistband of his shorts like a miniature elephant trunk. The skin was pink and tinged with red, the head was crowned and purplish, and a strong cord at its base pulsed with every beat of his heart. Heat spread across Lynn's face and her core pinched so hard she almost doubled over. Margo's breathing increased and her nostrils flared. Her cheeks looked as hot as Lynn's felt and a strange, hazy mist swirled in her eyes. Lynn realized the inside of her mouth was dry and swallowed around a lump in her throat. Lincoln's eyes darted uncomfortably between her and Margo and despite his best attempts at looking nonplussed, his blush gave him away.

Remembering that checking out your brother is wrong, Lynn forced herself to look away, even though she didn't want to. She had never seen a penis before, and she really wanted to take her time examining it...then feeling it…

"Touch it," she said to Margo.

Margo looked at her then to Lincoln, as if for permission. His dick twitched at the prospect of being played with, and a look of shame settled upon his features.

He wasn't too ashamed to say no, however.

Margo scooted closer on her knees and Lynn did her best to look at her friend instead of her brother, but Lincoln's dick filled her periphery. She took a deep, calming breath through her nose and imagined she could smell his musky, masculine scent.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Margo looked uncertainly from Lincoln's face to his dick and back again. She waited for him to object, and when he didn't, she reached haltingly out, pulled back as if having second thoughts, then curled her fingers around his shaft. It twitched in her hands and started to inflate like a balloon, and she inhaled. "It's moving," she said.

"It does that sometimes," Lincoln croaked.

Resolve breaking, Lynn got closer so she could see better.

"It's really warm," Margo said. She ran her fingers along his shaft and his skin tightened.

Lincoln was fully erect now and Lynn and Margo both marveld at it. Margo ran her thumb inquisitively over his tip and Lincoln gripped handfuls of the carpet to steady himself. Margo looked at her thumb and Lynn craned her neck to see what was there.

Clear, sticky fluid glistened in the overhead light.

"Put in your mouth," Lynn said huskily.

Margo brushed her teeth over her bottom lip and Lincoln tried to regulate his breathing. Lynn didn't think Margo was going to do it. She was too shy and scary.

Getting between Lincoln's knees, Maro stretched out on her stomach and bought his leaking head to her lips. She studied it for a moment, then gingerly pressed her tongue to the slit. Lincoln sighed and Margo took him deeper, her lips closing around him. She bobbed her head slowly up and down, and Lincoln's face rippled with pleasure. She ran her hand up and down his shaft and went a little faster, her hair tickling his thighs and her nose burying in his white pubic hair. He must have touched the back of her throat, because she spat him out and started to gag. Lincoln's dick quivered as if in search of Margo's warm mouth and sparkled with a mixture of Margo's spit and his precum. Lincoln's eyes narrowed and he gritted his teeth like he was going to cum, and Lynn stared at it so hard she went cross-eyed, waiting for the glorious moment he reached his orgasm and came in front of her.

Somehow, he managed to stop himself. Still, it was the hottest thing Lynn had ever seen.

Later on, she wouldn't be able to say what exactly possessed her to go down on her brother. She was horny, lost in the moment, just looking at him made the crotch of her shorts damp. She leaned over his hip, grabbed his dick, and sank it into her mouth before he could object. His body went completely rigid with shock and Margo coughed louder, full-on choking now, not because of Lincoln but because of Lynn.

Lynn didn't know what to expect from sucking dick, but the first thing she learned was that penises are super salty and kind coppery. Maybe those weren't the best terms to describe the flavor of cock and someone with a bigger vocabulary could come up with something better, but that's how it tasted to Lynn. The second thing was that you have to sort of cover your teeth with your lips so you don't scratch it. The third was...she liked it. A lot. She swirled her tongue around it and bobbed her head like Margo had. His tip poked the back of the throat but it didn't make her gag or anything.

She came up for breath after a minute. His precum coated the inside of her mouth and dribbled down her chin like the cooking oil she accidentally drank as a little girl. She swallowed but that did little to get rid of it.

Lincoln and Margo were both looking at her funny. For an awkward second, Lynn thought Margo was going to say something (ew, you just sucked your brother's dick), but instead, Margo shoved her aside and went down on Lincoln again.

They laid side-by-side between Lincoln's legs, propped themselves up on their elbows, and took turns on Lincoln's dick. His face grew beet red and he watched kissing and licking him through narrowed eyes, his chest heaving. Finally, he gasped "I'm gonna cum" and Lynn and Margo both stopped to watch, their girlish curiosity outweighing their lust. Lincoln's butt lifted off the floor, his dick thrust into the air, and his eyelids fluttered. His dick swelled a little, then thick, whitish cum spurted from his tip like superheated water from a geyser. Lynn's jaw dropped and one corner of Margo's mouth turned up in a sharp smile. Lincoln jerked, shook, and panted for air, his dick spewing his seed all over his stomach and thighs. Wads congealed in his pubic hair and some oozed down the side of his shaft, wetting his balls.

When he was done, Lynn and Margo looked at each other. "That was awesome," they breathed in unison.

That night, in her own bed, Margo asleep in a bedroll on the floor, Lynn twined her fingers behind her head and stared up at a bar of silvery moonlight spreading across the ceiling, too wired to sleep. The taste of Lincoln's dick lingered on her tongue and the memory of it being in her mouth made her body smolder.

It was then that she made up her mind.

She wanted him.

The next day, after Margo left, Lynn found Lincoln in his room reading a comic book. He looked up and tensed when she came in. All morning, he'd been avoiding her and Margom and unless Lynn was mistaken, shame abided in his eyes.

She sat on the edge of the bed, lowered her gaze, and took a deep breath through her nose. "About last night…"

Lincoln looked uncomfortable.

"...do you wanna do it again?"

She lifted her head, and a battle raged across Lincoln's face. He did...but he also didn't. If he was anything like her - and she knew that he was - he was ashamed by what happened not so much because it happened, but because he liked it.

Just when she was starting to think he wouldn't reply, he tossed the comic aside and sat up straight. Taking that as a yes, Lynn pounced him and fused her lips to his. Their tongues lapped and lashed at one another and their hands ripped each other's clothes.

That day, Lynn Loud lost her virginity to her younger brother and never looked back. They became inseparable again just like they were when they were kids. They played ball together, stole kisses from each other when no one was looking, and professed their undying love to one another. They would cloud watch and make plans for the future.

They were careful and hid their relationship from everyone. It was like walking a tightrope, and one terrible day in June, less than a month after she graduated high school, Lynn Loud came crashing down.