Lincoln dried his tears and splashed cold water on his face. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, taking deep breaths to calm himself. He forced a smile onto his face.

"What are you getting so worked up about?" he asked himself, "You act like you've never had a boner before."

He never had, not while kissing anyway. Ronnie Anne had never inspired such a… physical response when they kissed. It disturbed him that his sisters – especially one only ten years of age – could arouse him so. It was wrong! That's what everyone was saying.

Yet his four sisters had agreed to it… They had arranged it. It was completely consensual. Lynn and Lucy had told him that the body reacted honestly where the mind tried to evade. If he was reacting this way, if they were all okay with it, then why was it wrong? He felt his throat go dry. This was a dangerous door to open, and even a thirteen-year-old could see that.

"Lincoln?" Luna's voice could be heard through the door, "Bro, are you alright?"

"Y-yeah." Lincoln lied, wondering how to get himself to regain composure with an erection. Why wasn't it going down yet? "I think I'm going to shower.

"That's cool." Luna said, "As long as you're alright."

"Want one of us to join you?" Lynn asked. She grunted as someone elbowed her in the ribs.

"Ignore her, Linc." Luna said, "We don't want you doing anything you're uncomfortable with."

"I'm fine, really." Lincoln had regained control of his voice, "It was… it was fun. I'd like to do it again, sometime."

He really meant that. Perhaps he should listen to his body more. There was surprised silence from the other side of the door.

"Well, heck, if you liked that game, I've got a few more in mind." Lynn chortled.

"Maybe later." Lincoln said, blushing as he realized what he had agreed to. A chorus of catcalls answered him as the mood improved. "Alright, alright! I'll see you girls after my shower."

Then, much quieter:

"A nice, cold shower."

The shower was soothing, if a little chilly, but Lincoln found himself unrelieved. The memory of his sisters' various kisses, all expertly and lovingly applied in their own ways, tortured him. He felt the flames of passion roaring in his heart and loins, and no amount of cold water was helping put out that arousal. A voice in the back of his mind, once in the fore, was screaming:

What's wrong with me?!

This voice was altogether drowned out with memories of those sensuous feelings. His mind was plagued by images only vulgar puberty could create. That reduced voice of reason knew he, as a brother, should not take such interest in his sisters.

Eventually he gave into the desire – the aching need – for sexual gratification.

It wasn't enough.

He turned off the shower after an hour and still felt no relief. Worse, his parents were home which made seeking an alternative impossible. Their very presence compounded his feelings, their disapproval hanging over his head and only reminding him of how wrong this whole situation was. He suffered under their paternal and maternal love, longing for time alone to explore these taboo feelings.

It was worse at dinner, with his older sisters eyeing him seductively whenever their parents weren't watching. Only Lucy could be counted on to act as if nothing out of the ordinary were occurring. Twice his parents asked if he had a fever, curious as to why his face was so flushed.

Aside from that, dinner topics ranged from Luna's post-grad plans from Lola and Lana gushing over the movie they had seen. Lynn talked a little about her upcoming game against a rival school – sliding in a remark of how she hoped her brother would cheer her on, which her parents thought was sweet. If they only knew, Lincoln rued.

Finally, he was alone in his room, still unrelieved. To his credit, at least, he did not fantasize over Lucy. She was too young to arouse him sexually.

Well, he thought, at least I'm not a pedophile…

That still didn't explain why her kiss was so alluring, though. Maybe it had something to do with the blindfold, the mystique of it all adding to the overall atmosphere. Maybe it was just one good thing after another adding up. Lincoln scowled. What would Ronnie Anne think of this? If the mere thought of dating a brother by marriage was enough to sicken her, he could only imagine what the thought of dating (and Lincoln was imagining far worse than dating…) a blood relative would do.

And, most disturbingly, he found he didn't care what she thought. He didn't care what his parents or his other siblings thought. If it was only he who was affected, oh, he'd care. Yet he was but one of five – five siblings all lost to lust for each other. He knew peers at school who would kill to date any one of those four (even a few depraved souls interested in Lucy). He knew they'd look at him with a mixture of disgust and awe that he, their brother, had captured their hearts.

Which only brought up the question of how? How on earth did he win over not even one, but four of his sisters? What were the odds of that? It was almost as if some external entity was warping Lincoln's very reality, forcing events to unfold that normally wouldn't occur.

No, he'd just been listening to too much of Lucy's poetry. The circumstances were bizarre, though. Too bizarre to bring up with even his closest friend, Clyde – although it pained him that he couldn't share it. He had the feeling that, somehow, talking about the situation would help him sort it out.

Eventually, after what felt like agonizing hours, sleep mercifully took him.