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Addiction

Chapter Nine

Polaroids

by:

Rufus Quentin

October 9, 1998

The best way to describe the rest of that day, the rest of the week, and the transition from September into October is as a period of outright normalcy, insofar as one can call the living with having masturbated your brother while he tried to get his finger up your vaj normal. We didn't talk about what happened at the fort. Words in the English language simply don't exist to deal with those kinds of situations. I doubt any language has the right verb or noun or adjective to describe that very special kind of confusion. Did we cross a line? Sure as fuck we did, but was that so wrong? Both of us wanted it. But should both of us have wanted it? Did I even have to ask myself those questions to know the answer?

The lingering feelings remained for days, mixed with a varied number of emotions tangled like some gordian knot viscerally shoved where my stomach should be. Dustin was quiet about the entire event as well, almost as if it had never happened. I wasn't sure if he was feeling the same clusterfuck of emotions as me, or if he'd just shrugged this off like he did so many things in the past, or if he was sitting there in his room with all his porn, touching his dick and thinking of my pussy and not the ones in print. I was excited, intrigued, guilty, and frustrated on many levels.

On an afternoon a few days after the event, we'd just finished our homework and began packing and organizing for the next school day, my brother asked me a question. I'd expected him to propose another jog and had resigned myself to the fact that I would agree to it, unsure of what would ultimately take place this round considering the curve ball last time. What I heard was a small variation on that plan, something more illicit.

"Hey," Dustin said, uncharacteristically shy and hesitant. He chose his words slower than usual, though clearly not pre-meditated. "Do you, ahh, want to... take some more photographs today?"

It took a moment to click. Then I felt that immensely shameful blush warm my face. So much for trying to shove that little tidbit of taboo under the rug. It was the first I'd heard from him about them since I'd made that mistake. "What?" I said, playing stupid, collecting my dignity.

"I really liked your photographs," he confessed.

"The Polaroids?"

"Yea," he said in a short exhalation.

I knew I was blushing. I could feel the blood boiling in the capillaries of my ears and cheeks. "Um," I stuttered. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I'm saying it now. They're awesome. Artistic even."

If I felt embarrassed before, I'd reached a whole new level of it. "I thought you were disgusted by them! You didn't say anything!"

"Na," he said, shaking his head. He took a step closer to me and looked right at me, his complete and amiable character coming to light. "I wanted to compliment you on them, but you, know..." he trailed off, "you've got a great... you're beautiful, and I'd like to see more of you."

Dustin reached out and touched me in a non-sexual way, brushing a stray lock of fur into place. I felt a shiver run down my spine. The touch wasn't erotic, but it had an equally strong effect on me. "They were way out of my comfort zone," I said, looking up at my twin. "I don't know why I took them or why I gave them to you."

"I was impressed," he said, "they're amazing. If you want, I'd like to make some more with you."

"I don't know," I said, growing anxious as a small fear of mine I'd expected, but hoped I could avoid, came into being.

"Please?" he said, "I want you to see how good you look without your guy's clothes on."

"Fine, but I get to keep them," I said, channeling my inner defiance.

"Fine, whatever makes you happy."

"But no touching."

"No touching," he agreed.

"When?" I asked.

"How about now?"

I couldn't think of a reason to postpone a photo shoot. If he weren't already caught up and doing well in his classes, then maybe I could have used that to bide time but I couldn't, given his successes. "Where?" I almost gasped.

"How about here," Dustin pointed into the living room.

"Here?" I asked, my eyes widening as if shocked by the proposition. "Isn't dad going to be home soon?"

"Not for a few hours. Brandon is in Richmond for that job interview. We got the place to ourselves until dad gets home around seven at the earliest."

"What exactly are you asking for?"

"Nothing. You know..." Dustin shook his head. "I was thinking I could hold the camera. It might be easier for you that way. We could get some better shots. You can take some of me too, if you want some. You have a good way with poses."

I contemplated it, but I couldn't think of any excuses, aside from the obvious aversions to having my brother, or anyone for that matter see me naked. He already had, technically, but those were on fuzzy Polaroid. I wasn't sure I was ready to be seen bare in person, but the same compulsion that had led me to take the first set of pictures nagged at me and eroded my opposition to the idea. "Okay," I said, "but, If I find out that you're showing these to anyone else I swear I'll come after you and castrate you in person."

"Ouch," Dustin lifted his paws as if to surrender. "No one's seen them and no one ever will."

I sighed, wondering why on earth I'd let myself get talked into this. "So now what?"

"Shall we get your camera?"

I nodded and stood there, hesitant, giving my brother a look once over to see if he was indeed trustworthy. I saw the handsome young man and felt the roguish charisma he exuded. The brat I'd grown up with was still there but somehow he'd been transformed, I looked at an adult, a completely different person. "Okay," I said, looking at him as if asking him if this was truly what he wanted. He nodded to me one more time as if reading my body language, and before I knew it I was walking up our stairs with my brother in tow. He followed me into my room, where I stepped to my camera. I picked it up off the shelf of my possessions and inspected it. "Was this really worth it?" I asked myself, passing a paw over the off-white plastic housing yellowed with age. I handed it to my brother and he took it, standing in my doorframe as if waiting for something else.

"What?" I asked, cocking my head.

"You're gonna have to lose those," Dustin nodded at my clothes.

"Can I have some privacy?" I asked.

"Why? Gonna see all of you in a minute anyway?"

There was no arguing with my brother. He could rival a badger in tenacity if he wanted something bad enough. "Fuck," I said, feeling my paws reach down for the lower hem of my T-shirt but not believing that the moment was real. Without thinking I lifted it up over my belly and peeled it off my shoulders. I stood there holding the limp cloth, bare topped save for my bra, waiting for Dustin to stop me from going further, for him to crack up laughing at some woefully belated April fool's joke. My brother just nodded again as if giving me consent to continue. My paws fiddled with my belt and tail strap, and in a moment I was tugging my jeans down off my hips, kicking my foot-paws out of the legs. I was already practically naked, ready to be informed that this was just a dare gone too far. I worked on my bra-strap next, the most difficult part of my exercise. A few dexterous attempts and the garment grew slack. I guided the straps off my shoulders and the cups fell off my breasts. It too landed at my foot-paws. I stood there self-conscious and exposed with only my boxers left on my body. It was an easy thing to tug those down my hips until gravity could take over and allow them to fall to my ankles on their own.

I stepped out of the pile of fabric, naked in front of my own brother. Dustin could see everything, my breasts, my pubic tufts, and the tiny bit of excess around my hips and thighs that set me apart from the most desirable girls at school and the models in his magazines he habitually spilt his seed over. The real me and all my imperfections were uncovered, even the ones the poor quality of Polaroid film had hidden from him. "Your turn," I said, wavering yet defiant of the shame I felt standing in a ring of my discarded clothes.

Dustin put down the camera and performed nearly the same ritual. His shirt came off his shoulders with far less hesitance than I displayed. His belt rattled and his fly zipped down. In a moment he was shimmying his jeans down his legs, and his boxers followed the same course. When the job was done the collie stood up straight as if proud to be as bare as I. Dustin's eyes traveled over me and mine traveled over him. I saw all of his body for the first time since we were cubs. Now that same foolish individual stood before me in its mature and full-grown form, a body I couldn't have imagined all those years ago. I saw all of his fur, the patterns that were so eerily similar, and the shades that were in fact identical to mine. His face differed from mine the most. He had perhaps more brown fur than I and the blaze on his forehead was broader and longer than mine and ran all the way back between his ears like a little mohawk. Mine was just a crisp little sliver between my eyebrows. He was peeking from his sheath, an overt confession of his perversions. I tried not to let it shock me.

"Shall we?" Dustin said, calmly, aware that part of himself that shouldn't have been showing was, but refusing to acknowledge it.

I picked up a couple of the remaining spare cartridges of film and gave one to him as well. I nodded and watched him hesitantly take both it and the camera and turn out of the room. I followed his tail, walking down our hall and stairs feeling nothing against my fur. I couldn't remember the last time I'd walked through our house naked. I'd wrap myself in a towel even for those short hops from the bath to my bedroom. Though my brothers were all trustworthy I'd still take every precaution to avoid being seen by them from the moment I grew aware of differences in gender.

"I'm guessing this is just point and click. Do I need to know anything else?" My brother asked as soon as we reached the living room.

"It's simple," I said, standing next to my naked brother, pointing at the camera. "Here's the shutter. Here's the flash. It doesn't have zoom, but it has a timer here. It's mostly just point and click."

"Thanks," he said, turning on the lights.

"Where do you want me?" I said, starting to feel a chill.

"How about on the sofa?"

I sat down on the big brown sofa set up in the middle of the living room. "Like this?" I asked.

"Relax," Dustin said. "Do what you did before."

I didn't know how to relax under the circumstances. It felt completely different than before. I put my legs up on the sofa and leaned back. I kept my knees pressed together since I didn't want my brother to see my slit. "Like this?" I said, looking at him.

"A little more. Loosen up, you're still too stiff."

I relaxed my limbs a bit more. My knees parted slightly.

"Better," he said bringing the camera to his face. He took a step closer, leaned in, and tried several angles before finding one that satisfied him. He clicked and the camera spat out a card with an electromechanical whirr. "Now sit up a little bit more."

I scooted back and sat more upright.

"Now part your legs a little more. Relax."

I followed his instructions as far as I felt comfortable. My knees spread a little further apart but I still angled to keep my intimates as hidden as possible. Nonetheless my pubic tufts made it onto the next snapshot.

"This time get up and kneel on the sofa with your back toward me."

I did so, resting my elbows on the back cushion, I slightly turned around at my brother, casting my muzzle over my shoulder.

"Perfect," he said, "hold that pose. Now flag your tail and try to look a little more casual, maybe smile a little bit."

I sighed and swished my tail to the side, hoping that its long wisps draped over some of my more erogenous details. I brought a smile to my muzzle and peered back at my brother, dipping my muzzle in a slow nod as if to invite my brother to claim me. I heard a click and another snapshot roll out.

"Hold still," he said, walking around the sofa. "Stay where you are. Now look at me and be carefree."

I smiled and chuckled a little bit. It started to feel sillier and less oppressive by the moment. It was hard to take my brother seriously, the wannabe photographer, especially with a few inches of his erection hanging out.

"Good," he continued, "now rise up a bit so we can see your breasts. Great." He said and took another photo. "Now go back the way you were."

I turned around again and sat as he came back around.

"Sit up against the armrest. Good. Now put one leg up and let the other hang down."

The position he put me in had me spreading my legs wide for him. I reluctantly followed his request, quickly tucking my tail between my legs so that it could block out my intimates as best it could. I spread out and put my arm over the back pillows and an elbow on the headrest. I sat there sprawled out, hogging half the sofa as if I were just a regular guy watching football. I smiled a bit, fitting into that role quite naturally.

"Awesome," Dustin said, giving my body a long look over before raising the camera back to his face and taking another snapshot. "Now this time same thing without the tail."

I don't know what was worse, the fact that I put my averageness out on display, or the fact I did so for a family member. Did I even want to be seen, sitting on a couch, pretending to be sexy and feminine. Yet there I sat, my defects exposed and captured on instant film. I took another deep breath and prepared myself for what I knew would come. I shifted and wagged my tail to the side, stripping myself of the last modicum of cover. My pubic fur and slit appeared for my brother to photograph.

"Beautiful," he said, taking the snapshot and pulling the camera away from his face for an unmediated look. "Now move your paw down and spread yourself a little."

Though I started to feel a bit comfortable hanging out in the nude around my brother, his latest request caused me to relapse a bit into timidity. I was never keen on displaying myself as such, but still I'd agreed to do this for him. Was it too much to show Dustin my intimates? He could clearly see my unflattering body and he was constantly staring at my small breasts. That line of right and wrong was already completely blurred. I couldn't even tell what side of it I was on anymore. Hell, he'd felt me there before. Did I have anything left to hide? Was it worth trying to hide? Fuck, was I really contemplating showing my adult brother my pussy? I knew I needed to put an end to this amateur photo shoot, but I didn't. What I did was by no means easy. I leaned forward a bit, braced myself with one paw, and let the other slip down my belly toward my pubic tufts. I brushed some stray tufts of fur off my sliver and V'd my fingers on either side of my labia. I found myself a little turned on to my surprise. I spread my lips and showed my brother what my inner labia looked like and a little bit of what I had hidden between them.

"Oh wow," he said, "best one yet."

I smiled as he took a picture, dipping my muzzle down, unable to avoid expressing demure shyness. Dustin stepped closer and brought the camera between my knees. Then a little closer, as close as he could and still keep the shot in focus. He took a close-up of my sex, and then another, catching his sister's slightly glistening sex and her very intimate inner details on film.

"You're, uh..." he said, stuttering in a rare moment of shyness, "is really perfect." He stepped back, taking another good look at me as I sat there the barest and most exposed I'd ever been.

I instinctively snapped my legs shut and sat up, receiving an unexpected sensation of pleasure from that action, one that caused my muscles all along my spine to tense. I wiggled on that source like an antsy cub, and then shied away at how easy it felt to reclaim that pleasure. At the same time I felt the warmth of another blush heat up my face. I didn't know how to take that compliment. That wasn't really the kind of praise a girl should ever hear from her brother. My ears swept back as I grappled for words. How does one respond to something like that? Nice sheath? I like your genitals too? "Thanks," I said as the silence started to grow awkward and tried to pretend that I felt less aroused than I was.

"Here," he said, handing me the camera.

"Whats this for?" I asked, taking the clunky device from him and handling it in my paws.

"Time for your set."

"My set?"

"Don't you want a few for yourself of me?"

"I don't know what I would do with them," I confessed.

"Whatever you want. It's only fair if you get a few of your own."

I sighed. "Fine," I said, lifting the camera and taking a quick snap of him standing there without looking through the eyepiece. I photographed him unrehearsed, just standing there, but catching him in full frontal nudity with face and all.

"Fuck, I'd figured you'd want me to pose," he said, sounding a bit disappointed.

"I wanted that one," I said, putting the first developing card on the coffee table.

"Where do you want me now?"

"Sit," I said, implying the same spot I'd just let myself get photographed in. We traded places. Dustin came to rest in a much more explicit position than one in which I would dare myself to be seen, at least without getting coaxed into it. My brother sat in a typical male position, one in which he reclined with his knees far apart as if he were watching TV, except his junk hung out and the first few inches of collie cock were hard to let escape one's attention . I shook my head, asked myself, "how the hell did I get here," and took another photograph of my brother.

"Now tug down your sheath," I said, emulating the shameless, affirmative tone of my brother. I figured I was getting an eye for an eye. If he had any decency he would feel some of the embarrassment and shyness he put me through. To my disappointment Dustin wordlessly pulled back his sheath and showed me his first few inches without much visible hesitation. I took two photographs, one fully body from a distance, and one close-up, as he'd taken of me. He scooted over to the opposite end of the couch, resting one leg on the cushions and letting the other droop off the side, again with a view of his bits that left little to the imagination. I caught another photograph of him just as he straightened his head-fur with a pass of his paw. That one became my favorite.

"Now let's go outside," I said after I'd emptied the first cartridge of all its photographs.

"What?" He said, as if he hadn't heard me clear enough.

"Come," I said, replacing the empty box with the fresh one I'd brought along. "You heard me."

I wasn't quite sure why I suggested taking things outdoors. I just wanted control, I guess. I wanted to be the one to escalate things for a change and push my brother out of his comfort zone, like he'd edged me out of mine so many times. Sadly he went along with it without much protest. I felt like I lost that battle before we even made it to the back lawn. We had little in the way of neighbors, so the risk of getting spotted was low. I took another picture of him in the sunlight, one he didn't have time to pose for. From there I felt too shy to give him any further instructions. He lay on the grass on his side, then on his back and let me walk around and photograph his naked body in any way I saw fit. I took my share of photographs of Dustin and his erection, then handed the camera back to him. He got a few more of me sprawled out on the grass. I tried my best to try and look sexy, to look like I belonged in front of a camera lens. All he managed to capture was a relatively insecure teenage girl, or at least that's how I interpreted the photographs.

When we finished the second roll we went back indoors and lay out all the photographs on the coffee table like some perverse game of solitaire and waited for them to develop. "What you want to do now?" My brother asked, standing with his arms crossed and a rather pronounced hard-on.

I wasn't quite sure how to interpret his question. I looked at him, his naked body, his erection, and recalled the fact that not a shred of clothing existed between us. Between us lay a grid of slowly developing photographs of our bodies and genitals, damning evidence of a type of relationship that should never, ever exist. Where was this going? I tried not to think of what the next escalation could be. Is that what he implied?

"I think we're done here," I said, drawing a metaphorical line in the sand. I held my breath to see if Dustin would take no for an answer, which he seldom did.

"I almost forgot. I got something for you," he said.

I watched as Dustin left the room and went upstairs. I heard the ceiling creak above my head as he presumably bounded back into his room. For a moment or so everything went quiet. I was alone. I sat there, naked in our living room, wondering how the hell I got there. I felt it within me, the feeling of arousal. I felt ashamed knowing I had nothing to blame it on other than the presence of my brother. Was this an accident or was I conditioned? Either way, I was turned on, my heart was racing, and I couldn't tell if what I was feeling was hope or anxiety. Those emotions tend to seamlessly blend into one another, obscuring clarity in the process.

Then the same sounds resonated through the house in reverse order, until my brother reappeared in our living room, holding something small in his paw, something like a book. I snapped my legs shut as I heard him coming and shivered on the accidental pleasure it gave me. I hoped he wouldn't want any more pictures. I didn't want him to see me any more aroused than I was in the photographs in front of me.

He came back around the couch and pounced down on the end opposite me, panting with his legs parted shamelessly. He tossed me what he held. It turned out he'd brought a VHS cassette in an unlabeled sleeve. I took it out and sighed. "Norwegian Erotica 1999? Where'd you get this? It's not even 1999."

"Same as the magazines," he said, "Nate mainly."

"When do you ever find the time to watch these?"

"I don't. At least I haven't in a while. It's hard to find a minute where someone's not home. I've seen them though, mostly at my friend Jacob's house. It's been years."

"Good god. You perverts."

"I wanted to ask if you wanted to watch it. We got time and we might as well take advantage of the empty house before dad gets home."

"Way less bugs too," I added. I flipped the video in my paws and found no other markings or descriptions. "What's it about?"

"Sex," Dustin said.

"Just sex?"

"It's porn. Just enough plot to get to the interesting stuff, if even any at all. Put it in and see."

I stood up and moved over to our old television set, the wood framed, tiny screened behemoth that had been there as long as the both of us could remember. We never watched it unless cartoons were running on one of the three channels its rabbit ear antenna could pick up. Luckily we added a VCR at the turn of the last decade. It was into that box I shoved the cassette and turned on all the analog switches that would make it play. After a moment of warm up I heard the simple melody of typical porn music. Some feminine voice groaned before the image appeared on the thick glass screen. I sat back down beside my brother and watched a doberman plowing a busty young mixed breed, some combination of husky and shepherd.

"I see you have it cued," I said to my brother as his gaze focused on the television.

"Can't remember the last time I've watched this," Dustin said. His paw came to rest right beside his sheath as if on instinct. He began to scratch himself down there, inching closer to his pleasure zones.

"What about this makes it Norwegian?" I asked, noticing both fornicators grunting and cursing in an American accent.

"Beats me," he said, "I think they just bought it because the name sounds hilarious. Not bad porn though."

"Looks bad. Looks like they filmed this with a camcorder."

"We'll, it is bad. All porn is bad, but not like anyone watches this stuff for the acting or the quality."

"Figures," I said, "you gonna?"

"If you've nothing against it," he said, taking hold of his cock and giving it a few slow strokes.

"Not like I can stop you," I replied.

My brother got more comfortable, fidgeting where he sat. He scooted closer to me and slouched down into a position that couldn't have been good for his posture, one with his legs spread to the point where his knee bumped mine. I recoiled a bit from him. A sideways glance caught the familiar sight of the inside of his thighs, his fuzzy white balls and pubic fur, and the full length of his canine hard-on. I figured he expected me to do it again with him, something I wasn't totally against. My only reservation was the fact that I had nothing to hide myself in. He'd be seeing everything if I went through with it. Would that be so bad? Didn't I want him to see me? If I didn't then why did I give him those pictures? Why did I strip for him? Why did I let him take a whole album more of me?

I readjusted and swept my tail under me so I wouldn't leave a wet spot on the couch. I was that drenched and I'd get even more so if I pawed. I got into a slouching position like my brother and let my hand slide down the curve of my belly between my thighs. In another moment I fondled myself, passing my fingers along my slightly puffy lips, more feeling myself than doing any serious exploration in a way to let my body know, "well, I guess this is happening." Sometimes the slightest touch is all it takes. I pretended to concentrate on the video, to get lost in the low production value filmed intercourse. In reality my attention kept shifting to my brother. My gaze drifted off the small screen and into my brother's lap. I noticed Dustin doing the same to me. I felt his stare on my breasts and belly, down to where my paw covered my pubic tufts. Every time we caught each other sneaking a look, our muzzles snapped back to the television set.

By the time the first scene transitioned into the next, something with a stallion and some mare, we were both fully into our tasks. My fingers eagerly teased my clit and pressed against my lips, emulating the presence and pressure of a knot or something more hammering against me. My legs slowly parted until my knee bumped against Dustin's. I didn't shy away. It felt good to feel the fur of another brush against me, as minor as the physical contact seemed. It added to the pleasure and the illicitness of what we did together. I'd gotten some practice out of all those sessions. In those moments, in the heat of things, I felt myself actually feeling something. It had a way of eroding my inhibitions. I noticed my brother's focus was no longer on the video. He watched me and every little flourish I did between my thighs. I thought to myself, he'd already seen it. He probably already pawed to it. I swung my knee over his, leaned back, and turned to him a little. My fingers slowed and spread my sex, showing my sibling exactly what I looked like at the peak of arousal. I looked at him and he looked at me.

His right paw reached out and joined mine. Together and without hesitation we both worked to chase down those sparks I'd been hunting. I took over playing with my hood while my brother was free to feel deeper. He went straight for my vagina, slipping a finger in as deep as he could manage, freeing me to take over playing with my hood and pearl. I gasped and my belly tensed as I reached the wall I'd crashed against every prior attempt. I felt the craving to run to the bathroom and a conflicting desire to keep going and for Dustin toinch his fingertip deeper. As the previous times I subdued the prior instinct, even if I ended up wetting the couch. My left paw reached out and took my brother by the knot. I helped him as he pawed himself, stroking every other moment. We inched closer to each other until our hips touched and our thighs were flush. I felt his body heat and took in his scents with every breath. Ours paws clumsily bumped against one another, but cumulatively I was getting closer than ever before to some new and mysterious sensation, some growing ball of pressure I wanted more than anything to be released. I took a deep breath, one that didn't seem to satisfy, then another. The air just couldn't enter my lungs quick enough. I almost had it. I was just a moment away.

Both our muzzles and all four of our ears swiveled to a new sound, one I hoped at first was just a bit of static coming from the VHS. It wasn't. It sounded like gravel crunching under the wheels of a car in our own driveway. To my colossal disappointment my brother slipped away. He got to his feet, sliding out of grasp, and padded to the window facing out driveway. "Fuck," he said, racing back into the living room. "Dad's coming."

In all the years since then I've never had my fires doused so abruptly and so completely. Dustin went for the television, mashing all sorts of buttons on the VCR with his sticky fingers to get the tape to escape. I got up and raced around the living room, trying to find where I'd last left the camera and all signs of evidence that we'd been there. In under a minute I was running up the stairs with my brother right behind me, back to my room where we'd left the piles of our clothes. I got to the room, held the door open for long enough for my brother to get in. I sifted through the pile on the floor with trembling paws. "Did you get everything?" I asked, panting.

"Yea," Dustin said, tossing the VHS cassette on my bed. "TV's out. Did you get the photographs?"

I felt myself grow pale. "No! Didn't you?"

"Fuck," he said, and he was gone before I knew it as naked and showing as before. I heard Dustin leap down the hall and stairs in broad bounds, then a few seconds of quiet. I held my breath and felt myself casting a wish that he wouldn't get caught. He bounded up moments later, and joined me in my bedroom just as our father fiddled with the door lock and came in. We both got dressed as quickly as possible, skipping underwear for now. My t-shirt made it on backwards and I struggled to correct it as our father walked around downstairs. I begged whatever saint watched over us that he wouldn't come straight upstairs. Furthermore I hoped to all hell that he couldn't smell the residual traces of arousal down in the living room.

"Hide these," my brother said, pressing the cassette and the Polaroids in my paws no sooner than I was more or less together.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with these?" I asked, trying to whisper my exasperation, but Dustin already left my bedroom and made it down the hall and into his. I had just enough time to throw them in my laundry basket as my father came up the stairs. Our underwear, thankfully interchangeable, landed on top. I went to my desk and tried to act cool, repressing my breath to the point I felt dizzy. I still felt so very turned on and scolded myself for it. Fuck, I thought to myself, I'd done it again. I fooled around with my brother in a very serious way and it was my entire fault. We nearly got caught because of it. Worst of all, I wished to high heaven that it could have continued. Maybe I could have had my first orgasm that time, but instead I was left with an insatiate burning, wet pubic fur, and disappointment.

I held my breath as my father walked by, but he didn't stop at my door, he stopped at Dustin's. My ears perked to pick up the conversation through the wall, but it was too faint. It was probably just some new set of instructions. He came to my door next and knocked. I almost jumped, squirming on the wetness between my legs, commando in my jeans. "Come in," I said, taking a deep breath for composure, and swinging around in a perfect demonstration of nonchalance.

"Hey chief," my father said to me.

"How you doing dad? Good to see you home early. How was work?"

"Better not ask, kiddo," the elderly collie said.

"That bad?"

He nodded. "You done with your homework?"

"Almost," I lied, there not being a single open book on my desk.

"Do you mind fixing dinner when you're done?"

"Sure thing," I said, nodding.

"I picked up some groceries on the way. If you don't mind making a list of what else we need, I can grab them from Save-a-Lot on the way back tomorrow."

"Will do," I said, beaming an artificial smile. My eyes darted to my hamper, to where the surplus of illicit evidence was stored.

My father looked around my room, but found not a stray fur anywhere. "Keep up the good work, kiddo," he said, before his muzzle disappeared from my doorframe.

I flopped onto my bed the moment he was down the hall. It was only then that I could truly catch my breath and cool down. I wrapped my face and my paws and petted back my own fur over my scalp. That was definitely too close. My brother startled me a moment later. He came in without knocking, nearly giving me a heart attack.

"You ass!" I whispered, giving Dustin a look. "Thought I told you to fucking knock!"

"You alright?" He said, unaffected. He walked across my room and sat down near me on the side of my bed.

"I'm fine. Just jittery. That was too close."

"Yea," he said, "lost track of time. Sorry."

"Not your fault," I said.

He passed his paw down the jeans fabric of my leg. I almost recoiled. It felt odd having my brother touch me in an intimate way. I wondered for a moment if all our taboo contact had given him the wrong idea. My heart picked up again. I felt my emotions overcome by an anxiousness not unlike that I felt after reading my first teenage love letter. Was it nervousness or some form of hope? "Guess we're not doing this here, for now," he continued, passing his fingertips from the cuff of my jeans to the fur of my ankle.

"No," I said, coldly.

He scooted back and tugged my foot paw into his lap. I let him, despite the boyfriend-girlfriend nature of what he was doing. He massaged my ankle and paw without speaking, at least for a moment. "We can go out for a jog soon, if you like. I'd really like to get you off."

"Can't. Gotta cook. Dad's probably hungry."

"Damn," he said. "Tomorrow then?"

I sighed, thinking about the time before and the time before that, and the frustration that had me near the bursting point. I'd had enough. "What's the use?" I found myself saying.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

I tensed. I said too much already.

"You haven't gotten off yet, have you?" He said, astutely accurate.

"No," I said, too winded to come up with another lie or excuse. "Almost a couple of times, but no."

"Sorry, sis," he said, stroking my paw, "I kind of figured." He chuckled. "If I were you I wouldn't go running off to Hollywood any time soon. Acting might not be your forte."

"It's okay, I still had fun."

"It's not. I really wanted you to feel it."

I sighed, "I don't know what it is. I get close. Then it goes away."

"It's an emotional thing for girls," he said, "which is why it's important to me. I want you to feel comfortable around me."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I'm your brother. Do I need another reason?"

"We shouldn't even be doing this." I said, quiet but stern, looking at the door.

"What's wrong with what we're doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"We haven't done anything wrong."

"Isn't what we did today wrong? I shouldn't have ever given you those pictures."

"Do you really have regrets? I'll give them back whenever you want."

I paused and listened into all corners of the house. My ears perked to perceive any sort of movement, for a warning on my innate proximity sensor. I listened to my own heartbeat and divulged, "not yet."

"Good," my brother said, "I'm enjoying this. Today was fun, even if we got interrupted." Dustin stood up, letting my foot-paw slip from his touch. "We'll divvy up the pictures when we go for our next jog, so bring 'em. You can keep the video, so long as you hide it. It's got a funny name. I'd hate to lose it. And sis, we'll think of something that works for you, but for fuck's sake try and relax. Next time I promise you you're getting off. No more fakin' it Alex."

"I'll try."

"I'll see you at dinner then. I've still got some work to do. I can't wait to see how those turned out."

With those words he left. I quietly cursed in the direction of my ceiling. A fresh batch of unforgettable memories circulated within my skull, hazy images with uncrisp edges like the Polaroids themselves, a set of lived experiences I'd never be able to live down, but in a way that seemed distant as if ripped from the scrapbook that belonged to someone else, someone who did their deeds before I was born. Did we go too far? Was it wrong? What would happen next? It all seemed gray, a little too early to tell. I stared at my bedroom ceiling as if gazing into the milky fog of one of those photographs, anticipating the outlines of a developing image, wishing that it could somehow give me a clue, a sign of what awaited me just beyond the event horizon of the future.

Feeling the pull of responsibility I eventually got up, fished my boxers from my hamper, off of the layer of photographs of naked collies. I washed my paws for over a minute with extra hot water and lots of soap as if they'd never get clean. Then I went downstairs and prepared dinner for my family. Later that evening I was sitting opposite my brother with our father at our dining room table, trying to enjoy the meatloaf and green beans I'd cobbled together, listening to our father's stories and his best attempts at telling jokes. Every time I looked up, I saw my brother. Our eyes met several times over the course of dinner. Every time I couldn't help but mentally strip him, and see him as I'd seen him hours earlier. He was doing the same to me, I knew. It was a perverse little secret we kept to ourselves as we made small talk and tried to navigate our way back into the behaviors of normal siblings, of a normal family.