Whore Sister
I was feeling a little anxious as I pulled up in front of the run-down
apartment building where my sister lived. Part of it was worry about
parking my car on the street in this part of town. The other (larger)
part was the weird, somewhat strained relationship between my sister and
me.
She was a few years older, and when I was a kid I thought Jill was a
goddess. I was totally infatuated with her. She was my idea of the
perfect woman, my first crush, and yes, in my hormone-ridden years I
used to fantasize about her in a less-than-appropriate way. Then,
starting shortly after her eighteenth birthday, she began to change. She
became more distant, and started fighting with my parents all the time.
I barely recognized her anymore, and really wasn’t that surprised when
she wound up leaving home. My contact with her became pretty spotty. I
think she was homeless for a while, and a couple months after she left I
found out that she was pregnant. She wound up having twin daughters.
My parents said that they wanted to help her, but made it sound like
she wasn’t receptive to their help. In any event, they were unambiguous
that she had made a number of poor decisions, and they didn’t want her
to be a bad influence on me. My impression was that drugs and extensive
promiscuity were involved in her new life. I was told in no uncertain
terms that, unlike her, I needed to focus on my studies and career to
avoid penury.
We reconnected a little bit after I graduated college. I got a job working for a VC firm and had myself set up in a pretty good situation. I cared about my sister, and wanted to make sure my nieces were ok, but even after I reached out she remained closed off. Our relationship could never get back to where it was, and frankly I had to agree with my parents that she wasn’t making the best choices. She insisted that she wasn’t on drugs, which I mostly believed, but I was fairly confident that she was making ends meet by working as a prostitute. I know she had worked at a strip club for a while.
When she did get in touch, it was usually to ask for money. At first I didn’t mind. A few hundred dollars here and there didn’t make a huge difference to my life, and if it kept a roof above the girls’ heads then it was worth it. But soon she had racked up a serious debt, and I started to feel less like her brother and more like a piggy bank. To be honest, I got a little resentful. I probably wouldn’t have minded if she hadn’t kept me at such arms length. I offered to try and mediate between her and my parents, and to let her and the girls move in with me (I had the space and would have loved to be more involved in their lives), but all to no avail.
Hence my less-than-enthusiastic feeling when my sister called this afternoon asking if I could swing by her place after work. She wouldn’t say what she needed, but I was confident it wasn’t to pay me back for all the money she’d borrowed over the years. I threw on my handbrake and took a deep breath as I prepared to meet with her.
The lock to to the front door of her building was broken, I noted, and the lobby smelled like human urine. It was covered in detritus. Fortunately the elevator still worked. It was already on its way down as I walked in, and when it’s doors open a man about my age dressed in a slightly disheveled suit and tie ambled out. It was clear he didn’t live there, and as I approached he looked me up and down and then shot me knowing, leering smile. As if we were co-conspirators in some untoward undertaking. His eyes glinted and as we passed each other he addressed me.
“Going to 1410, yeah? You’re in for a good time.”
I was going to 1410, which was my sister’s apartment, but I was fairly sure I wouldn’t have a good time. I snarled at him and he held his hands up, walking away with a laugh.
The hallway to my sister’s apartment was littered with trash and smelled like smoke. A vagrant was asleep just outside the elevator. Her doorbell was broken, so I rapped firmly on the door. Chloe opened it, and I was genuinely happy to see my niece even if the hot pants and tank top she was wearing suggested things I didn’t like.
“Hi Uncle Hank.” She greeted me.
“Hi Chloe. Hi Eve!” I said, yelling slightly and waving to Chloe’s similarly attired sister who was lying on the couch in the living room watching TV. The girls were identical twins, and the spitting image of their mother at her age. I don’t think she knew who the father was, and their looks didn’t give any indication, so completely did they resemble their mother’s side of the family.
“Is your mom around?”
“Yeah, she’s in her room. Come on in. Mom! Uncle Hank is here!” Chloe hollered for my sister as she sauntered through their small kitchen and into their cramped living room. I followed, increasingly uncomfortable with the way her pants clung to her ass. I didn’t have too much time to think about it, as a moment later my sister stumbled out of her bedroom.
“Hi Henry.” She said. My jaw hung agape as I saw her. She was wearing a sheer black babydoll which covered virtually nothing. Small cups barely contained her large breasts, the only opaque material on the thing, and rest of the garment was translucent enough that her entire midriff was completely visible. A thin fringe of fur along the bottom barely reached her thighs and did nothing to obscure her tiny, lacy panties. She’d pulled her hair into a messy bun, though I suspect it had been in much worse shape mere moments before. Her lipstick was smeared irregularly, and mascara ran down to her cheeks. “Can we talk in my room for a sec?”
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