The Perfect Holiday

I gave her an innocent smile at batted my lashes like a girl. “I am nice,” I said. “Right, Rob?”

“Huh?” Rob turned to me, his lids hanging low over his eyes like he was stoned.

“Never mind, retard,” I said. “I was just saying how nice I am, that’s all.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah, Alex is real nice,” Rob said.

“Shut up, fucker,” I said. Getting to my feet, I stretched and belched loudly before pouring the rest of the beer down my throat and sauntering down the hall.

“Molly, oh Molly, where are you,” I called, glancing into each room as I passed.

“Leave her alone!” Rebecca called from the kitchen. “I wouldn’t blame her if she was hiding in the closet because of you!”

I burst out laughing. “Unlike you, darling sister, I’m pretty confident Molly never had to worry about being in the closet,” I called back loudly. “We all know you’re a pining dyke, but Molly is straight as an arrow.”

Just as I was about to open a closed door at the end of the hall, it swung open. Molly stood there in cotton shorts that rode up her round thighs and a faded t-shirt. Her tits hung heavily, the nipples poking through the cotton. A wave of molten lust crawled through my body at the sight of her scantily-clad frame.

“What do you want?” Molly asked.

“I wanted to see you,” I said, leaning against the doorframe and smirking. “Come on, I’m sorry about last time. I shouldn’t have made you cry.”

Molly didn’t reply.

“How was your date, anyway?” I asked casually, leaning against the doorframe. “Have fun?”

Molly narrowed her eyes. “Since when do you care?”

“Hey, I’m a nice guy,” I said, cocking my head to the side. “And I’m interested in the little sister of my best friend.”

Molly’s eyes went wide and her mouth formed a small ‘o.’

“What?” I asked. “I’m your friend too, right?”

“She’s not your friend!” Rebecca yelled.

I stepped closer, close enough for my hand to brush against Molly’s bare, plump thigh. Up close, she smelled like strawberries and vanilla and my cock started to throb in my pants.

“Well?” I asked softly. “Are you?”

“I don’t know,” Molly said. She bit her lip.

“Tell me about your date,” I said. Suddenly, I was dying to know. I wanted to know if Molly had been fucked so hard she couldn’t walk away. I wanted to know if she’d moaned and sweated and called a male name loudly into the air.

“He was gay.”

My eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“You heard me,” Molly said warily. She took a step back and I looked over her short frame into her room. It was girlish – lots of pastel pink and tulle everywhere – and I could smell a sweet, musky scent coming from the bed. It made me want to lie down and hump the mattress until my cock was bloody.

“So, he was gay and he still asked you out? What happened there?”

Molly flushed. She gnawed on her lip with creamy white teeth and I was tempted to tangle my hand in her hair and pull her close, kiss until she began to moan.

“I asked him out,” she said in a voice so quiet I could barely hear her.

“My sister’s making pasta,” I said. “Come out of your room, have a beer with me and you can meet my friend Rob.”

Molly bit her lip again. The temptation to grab her and pull her close was stronger than ever before but I ignored it, willing my cock to go flaccid so Molly wouldn’t see.