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From: Jan Vincent <jan123@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Computer Stuff {Jan Vincent} (ff inc rom)
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Date: Thu,  3 Jun 2004 15:10:03 -0400
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<1st attachment, "ComputerStuff.doc" begin>

Hi there

This story is based on a daydream I've been having. Again it is
more of a psychological drama than a real sex story. It has some
erotic parts but I tend to shy away from very explicit scenes.
These days I find subtle, thought-provoking stories far more
erotic than a very explicit sex story. I hope you'll like this
one. And if you do, you are always welcome on my site to read
other stories by me:

http://www.sistersinlove.org

-jan






Computer Stuff

By

Jan Vincent


Comments are always welcome.
Send them all to: jan123@hotmail.com




I hate computers. I see them as a necessary evil. They make my
life easier. They allow me to do my writing without wasting paper
sheets unnecessarily. I am a worrier by nature and I always worry
whether what I write is something worthwhile. Before I write a
final sentence I am sure I will rewrite it several times before I
become satisfied with it. In a way, computers save trees from
being cut down and turned into paper. I should be thankful, and
perhaps I am. I know I am contradicting myself, but that does not
come as a big surprise to me.
 
 My name is Lee Sunset. My last name is a constant source of
aggravation, but I grew accustomed to the teasing and snickering.
My skin is thicker now and I can take blows that would leave me
breathless and wordless a couple of years ago. People say I am
cynical, dark, taciturn, unfriendly. And perhaps I am. I am not
really a goth person, but I do like to wear black, love reading
vampire stories, and my goth friends and I tend to like the same
bands. Very often I am depressed, but I hate pills or any
chemicals. I am a drug-free zone and, according to some, boring
as hell.
 
 I have an older brother, Nathan, and a younger sister, Callie.
Nathan is as cool as a brother can be. He's already left home,
but he still comes around when he doesn't feel like washing his
own laundry and dumps it all in Mom's laundry basket. There are
times when Nathan and I don't speak to each other. Heated
discussions between us start about nothing and everything, like
his being a goddamned opportunistic lazybones, whose right-wing
ideas about how to build a _better_ world make me puke.
 
 In spite of our sibling rivalry I have to thank Nathan for who I
am right now. 
 
 When I was thirteen and wanted to surf the net, I had to use
Nathan's computer. Although I disliked his cluttered, ugly
machine, I had no choice: I had to do some research for a paper.
I remember I couldn't find anything I was looking for;
despondent, I became careless -- the mouse slipped and
involuntarily I clicked on a innocent-looking file called _Happy
Times_.
 
 "Whoa," I said.
 
 It turned out that _Happy Times_ was a porn video, and a
_lesbian_ porn video at that. Until then I had frowned upon all
kinds of porn. I thought porn was degrading -- degrading to the
women who sold their bodies like that, and degrading to the men
who watched them. In my book, porn was equal to prostitution.
When I was young I was very fundamentalist, and the world was a
black-and-white thing with no room for gray areas. At least not
for me.
 
 I still don't know why I pushed the play button of the video,
but you could say I was curious. I told myself I wanted to know
what Nathan was into, a way to acquire ammo to get back at him if
need be. I got surprised by my own reaction when the two girls
kissed. It was a sensuous, intense kiss, mouth to mouth. I could
see the girls were turned on by each other, their nipples were
erect and they kept kissing one another for a long time. Needless
to say I started fidgeting on my bro's chair, feeling the heat
rising in my crotch. I even brought my hands to my inner thighs,
becoming aware of my own arousal through the thick cotton of my
jeans. I watched the video for a couple of minutes longer, but
shame and confusion got the better of me and I stopped the whole
thing right then. I went back to my room, dazed and angry at
myself. I had succumbed to porn. I had sold out. I was a phony. I
thought I was better than Nathan and after all I wasn't.
 
 Strangely enough I didn't question my sexuality right away. I
didn't make the connection between getting turned on by a lesbian
porn video and my likes and dislikes.
 
 When I turned fifteen and was out at a party, this episode came
back to me in full force. I was friends with Jamie McIntire, the
girl who pulled me into the underworld of the goths. She was into
punk music, black clothing, silver bracelets, earrings with
hanging tiny skulls and piercings. We were both drunk and she was
tripping with some shit, like X or crystal. She had offered me
some but I'd refused. Then, out of the blue, she began to kiss my
neck. She laughed and went on to kiss my left cheek and eye. I
recoiled away from her. I was not really disgusted by her kissing
me. I was just unprepared for the attention we were getting.
 
 "Kiss, kiss, kiss," I heard our male audience chanting, goading
us on for their pleasure. Two girls kissing... Yeah, what a
riot... for them... but not for me.
 
 On the next day Jamie did as if nothing had happened at the
party. When I mentioned the kiss she refused to talk about it.
She had a hangover, she said. Liquor made her feel like shit, she
said. I got mad at her and left her alone, biting my lower lip. I
told off a poor guy who was unlucky enough to talk to me when I
was trying to deal with rejection from a girl who was supposed to
be my best friend. 
 
 She could not know how much her kissing me had affected my own
dreams and recollections. I recalled the lesbian porn incident
and only then I made the connection. Girls turned me on. Their
kissing turned me on. Their kissing _me_ turned me on. So, who
was I? What was I? A lesbo, _me_?
 
 This self-doubt was torture and I walked the desert alone.
Callie was twelve and was not much of a help. Mom wouldn't
understand, Dad wouldn't either, and Nathan was a hopeless case,
too. So, _what am I to do?_
 
 I considered talking to a counselor but nixed the whole idea
immediately. I was shy and my self-consciousness would make me
stutter as though I was an inarticulate fool. And I hated that.
 
 I kept quiet about being possibly gay for quite a while. I'd
watch the girls from afar, testing myself, checking my own
reactions. It was undeniable I preferred the company of girls;
boys were a nebulous reality and my apparent unfriendliness
toward most of them kept me inside my bubble, my own world full
of female forms and odors and voices...
 
 When I turned sixteen I finally had the guts to come out to my
parents. Dad was OK with it, whereas Mom began to worry about me
and my chances of ever becoming a happy person.
 
 Soon after Nathan came over and learned the news. I remember his
quietness, his surprised look, his reddish, thick brows making a
furrowed arc. We stood alone in the kitchen, a place where we
used to eat breakfast together when we were kids.
 
 "Are you sure, Lee?"
 
 "Yeah, that's not an overnight decision."
 
 "But how can you be so sure? You said you didn't even have a
girlfriend."
 
 "You don't need to have a girlfriend to know you like girls, or
do you?"
 
 He shook his head with an absent look.
 
 "What?" I asked. "Why are you being so... Is that odd?"
 
 "Odd? What? Your being gay. No... I just... didn't see it
coming, that's all."
 
 I chuckled. "Yeah, me neither."
 
 I left the kitchen before I could explain his participation in
the definition of my sexuality. I didn't want to spill the beans
and acknowledge I had changed my mind about porn. Porn was not
evil per se, I reasoned now. Porn could be your friend if you
felt comfortable with it. My fundamentalism had receded and I'd
become aware of gray areas in my perfect black-and-white world.
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 I still remember how Callie reacted to my coming-out: pure
disgust. Like her older sister at her age, she was a
fundamentalist. It seems we are born quite inflexible but age can
make your mind become more pliable to foreign concepts like a
girl loving another girl.
 
 Basically, Callie was afraid of losing her friends if my gayness
became known. Because I believed that my sexuality was a private
thing, I did not tell to anyone else. It was good enough to know
that my parents accepted me the way I was, despite Mom's
worries.
 
 Seeing that my loving other females was not as threatening to
her social status as she thought, Callie grew curious and began
to ask questions. What was it like? Who did I fancy? Why girls
and not boys? Million questions I had barely an answer to.
Instead of helping me, she got me confused, made me stutter, made
me hate myself.
 
 It was by this time I sensed that Callie changed somehow. I
didn't know exactly what, or why, or how, but I knew she was not
the same innocent, careless person I used to know. We'd never
been very close. I respected her privacy and she respected mine.
It was simple as that.
 
 About a year later I met Carina Stahl, a blue-eyed fair-headed
girl, whose long straight tresses betrayed her German blood. She
was a female jock, athletic, with a bubbly personality. What
brought us close was our mutual dislike for the usual high school
chitchat and gossip exchange. She liked to read poetry and I
enjoyed lose myself in the library, hunting for books that would
change my life and would mean something to my hungry heart.
 
 Carina and I would go sit on the high school lawn and read for
hours if we could. We didn't talk much. It was just good to know
that we had someone else who appreciated the pleasure of reading
and the silence that comes with it. I never felt awkward around
her.
 
 I loved the way she smiled at me; the dimples at the corners of
her mouth made me want her. But I knew my chances with her were
close to nil. She had a boyfriend and apparently was as straight
as they come. 
 
 One day Carina proposed a double date.
 
 "But I don't have a boyfriend," I protested. I wanted to say I
didn't want one, but I was still hesitant about coming out to
her.
 
 "You don't need one. I'll get one for you." She was smiling,
upturning her cute nose as though she had become a mime and was
telling a joke.
 
 "No, thanks. I'll pass."
 
 "Why not? He's a goth and he looks like that guy from Him, you
know. I bet you'll like him."
 
 "I'm not into goth guys. I'm not into Him either."
 
 "So, what kind of bands do you like?"
 
 "Evanescence. Placebo. Brian Moloko's voice is amazing and I
like the way he plays guitar. Melodic yet powerful."
 
 "Oh, I get it. You're into androgynous types."
 
 "I didn't say I was attracted to him. I just said I liked the
way he sings and plays guitar. I am not a groupie, you know."
 
 "So I guess you're into girls then."
 
 There, she said it and I hadn't seen it coming. I was surprised
by her clairvoyance. She knew more things about me than I did
about her.
 
 "Why'd you say that?" My voice was breaking, making a final
attempt at denial.
 
 "Don't worry, I won't tell," she said, lowering her voice and
avoiding my stare.
 
 "Yeah, but why'd you think I'm into girls?"
 
 There was a moment of hesitation before she looked up and her
green eyes met mine. "Because the way you stare at me... at my
breasts... at my legs."
 
 I didn't know what to say in my defense. She was right. I did
stare at her breasts and legs, but I only did that when I thought
she wasn't looking.
 
 "It's OK, though," she said, raising a smile. "I like the
attention... Thanks."
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
Carina's thankfulness was startling. I wondered what her words
meant. Was she gay too? Or was just curious? Or boy-crazy enough
to call herself bi just to juice up her own sex life and get the
boys' attention? If she were the latter I didn't know her at all.
Carina was not a very forthcoming person concerning her past and
present romantic attachments. All I knew was she had a boyfriend
called Phil Mason, whom I had never seen.
 
 Carina and I became inseparable. She would come often to my
house and we'd read and talk about what we wanted from life. Mom
thought Carina was my girlfriend, and in a way she was but not
that way.
 
 Mom was surprised when I explained she was just a friend. Father
just didn't care whether Carina was more than a friend. Callie
was the only one to speak about it freely, teasing me with it: 
"Lee's got a girlfriend! Lee's got a girlfriend! Lee's got a
girlfriend!"
 
 I had an urge to go after my sister and spank her and put an end
to her stupid smirk, but I managed to stay calm, as though
Carina's dignity was rubbing off on me.
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 I still remember the day when Callie came home after school and
she was pissed off with something. She was now fifteen and had
changed her wear style. Like me she was into alternative rock,
and the more punk the better. She wore one of her favorite
T-shirts, an old The Offspring shirt she had borrowed from me and
had never returned.
 
 "What's up, squirt?"
 
 "Don't call me that. I hate you when you do that."
 
 "Do what?" I feigned innocence, but she was onto me.
 
 "Oh, fuck off."
 
 I followed her to her room. I thought she was going to slam the
door on me, but she didn't do such thing. In spite of our
arguments we loved and trusted each other. I knew when she needed
me as a friend. It was an innate knowledge we both had despite
our independence and name-calling.
 
 "Wanna talk?" I said, walking in her room, its walls covered
with posters of Green Day, The Offspring, and Kurt Cobain.
 
 She didn't say a thing while she emptied her backpack's contents
onto the bed. She seemed to search for something. She looked
desperate.
 
 "What are you looking for?"
 
 Still no answer.
 
 "If you tell me what it is I can help you find it."
 
 "No, you can't help me. Nobody can."
 
 Eventually she gave up and sat on her bed and burst out crying.
 
 "Hey, what's up, Callie?"
 
 "Nothing is up," she said, looking away, trying to hide her
tears and her bloodshot eyes. I realized then how beautiful she
could be. It's rare to find a woman, a girl, who doesn't lose
some of her grace when she cries. My sister was such a rarity.
 
 "Hey, Callie..." I kneeled before her and took her face in my
hands. "Callie, what's the matter? What happened?"
 
 Callie didn't speak. I watched her blue eyes moving crazily to
the left and then to the right and then back to the left. I saw
her affliction in the way she moved her perfect lips and the
tongue that kept them from drying off. I smoothed her skin,
feeling the bone structure of her face, as if she was a breakable
piece of art. I touched her hair, locks of gold that framed her
unhappy eyes. During a split second, she metamorphosed into
Carina, then she became my sister again.
 
 "Callie, tell me. I'm your sis. You know you can trust me."
 
 "You're gonna laugh at me. You're gonna say I told you so."
 
 "I told you so."
 
 There was a moment she didn't know whether to choose anger or
laughter. I was relieved when she chuckled and held my hands.
 
 "You're not going to believe this, but..."
 
 "But what?"
 
 "I... I... am like you."
 
 "What do you mean, you are like me?"
 
 "I... Lee... I'm into girls too."
 
 I must have remained there with a stupid expression on my face
before I could speak. "Are you saying you're gay? Is this all
about--"
 
 "Yeah, and worse," she cut in.
 
 "Worse?"
 
 "Yeah, worse."
 
 "What do you mean, worse?"
 
 "I told a girl about you... to see how she'd react...
because..."
 
 "You have a crush on her," I completed, still holding her hands,
still on my knees before her.
 
 "Well, yeah..." Callie blushed.
 
 "And then?"
 
 "She totally freaked out and started being really mean... to
you... Then I--"
 
 "You came out to her."
 
 "Yes, that's what I did. How did you know? I was mad at her, so,
so mad at her... when she called you..."
 
 "Oh, Callie, baby."
 
 I held her hands tighter and seeing the pain in her eyes I
wanted to press her close to me, but instead she gave me an
intense hug. I could sense she was shaking, her pulse altered.
When I broke our embrace and looked at her, I asked, "What were
you looking for?"
 
 "A letter."
 
 "What letter?"
 
 "I wrote her a letter."
 
 "You did? And where is it?"
 
 "I don't know," she said, making an half attempt at a feeble
shrug. "I can't find it. I think I lost it somewhere. Perhaps I
let it fall when I got mad at her. Oh, Lee... They're going to
laugh at me if they ever find it. I'm gonna die if they do."
 
 "No, you won't. I'll protect you."
 
 "You can't. Although you're a senior and they respect you,
they'll know you're gay too, because of me... and my stupid big
mouth." With this Callie let herself fall on the bed, immersing
herself in a crying fit.
 
 I laid myself on the bed, next to her. I held her to me, hushing
her, her tears making my neck damp and clammy. She was
inconsolable, dreading the future and what school gossip would do
to her... to us.
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 The next day I could feel the staring and the smirking directed
at me. Some boys I barely knew said hi, whereas most of the girls
would either snicker or move away from me as if I had a
contagious disease. Only Carina Stahl and her gang of friends
were vaguely human, and treated me as if I was someone who needed
to be rescued. I was thankful for their support, but they were
trying to help by crowding me. And I could be erratic and
unpredictable if too many people spoke to me or demanded my
attention. I wanted to scream so that everybody would leave me
alone, but I respected Carina too much to let my dark, bitchy
side win.
 
 All in all I was pretty miserable when I got home. Callie had
called sick and was in her room. I knocked but she didn't answer.
It figures, I thought. I sighed and went to my room. I opened a
book and kept reading it until Mom called us down for dinner.
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 Two months went by and Callie and I had sustained some fierce
attacks by some homophobic jerks. As Callie suspected someone had
found her letter and they'd read it out loud in front of my
sister, completing her humiliation. Somehow the letter was
confiscated by a teacher and our parents got called in by the
principal. Mrs. Rhymes was concerned for my sister. She urged my
parents and my sister to seek counseling. I just couldn't believe
the senselessness of the whole thing. It seemed to me that
everybody had gone mad in my school. For goodness' sake, it was
_just_ a letter! They couldn't be more horrified if Callie had
raped that girl.
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 On the eve of going to college for my freshman year, Callie
surprised me with a stolen red wine bottle and two glasses.
 
 "Hey, what's this?"
 
 "A present from me to you," she said, sitting down on the sand
of the beach we used to go when we wanted to be alone and think
about life.
 
 "It's good it's dark. I don't want to be arrested. I want to go
to college, squirt. So don't you mess up my life with this."
 
 "Don't worry, I'll keep the bottle in my backpack. And if we get
caught we can always run away."
 
 I laughed. "Yeah, with the cops on our tail. That'd be something
to see."
 
 "You bet."
 
 We drank the wine, watching the calm sea and the almost autumnal
waning moon. It was a romantic evening although in the wrong
company. I wish I were with Carina instead of Callie. Then I
looked up at my sister with some remorse. She was doing her best
and I was being an ungrateful bitch.
 
 
 
                                   -o0o--
 
 
 
 My first year in college was a welcome change. I met very
interesting people, got drunk, partied a lot, smoked my first
joint, and become more outgoing and less embarrassed about my own
self. I collected a few wild adventures with girls my age, and
most of them became precious memories to me. Still, I knew
something was lacking. Most of all I was homesick. I missed my
parents, our cat - who, predictably, was called Garfield -, and
our porch with its old rocking chair and battered light green
sofa.
 
 Callie and I would call each other quite often and she would
come to visit me whenever she could. At first I was surprised
that she was willing to travel all those miles just to see me. I
was flattered by it. We'd been growing amazingly close since her
coming-out. At last we had found some common ground we could
truly share. So, in fact, I did miss her too, but somehow
something told me I'd be better off not dwelling too much about
how I felt when she left and returned home.
 
 The turning point of my relationship with Callie was on
Thanksgiving Day, and my life made a complete circle. Once again
I had to do some research for a paper and I asked Callie if I
could use her computer, which was in fact Nathan's old, ugly
machine. She gave me its password and I logged in.
 
 I surfed the net for about twenty minutes when I decided I
wanted to snap back to a previous page. I wrote the new address
which started with "si" and because some software likes to be
smarter than their users the browser completed the address as
something like _sistersinlove.org._
 
 I don't know really why but that address intrigued me. I pressed
the return key and my eyes must have come out of their sockets.
 
 In shock I navigated through the site. _Sisters in Love_, I read
with utter disbelief. _Sexual love between sisters_, I read on.
Like in a daze, I continued reading, mesmerized by the
testimonials of women, girls, telling about their personal
lives.
 
 My amazement almost kept me from wondering why Callie would
visit such a site. Even though I tried to stay away as long as
possible from computers, I knew that if a browser completed an
address automatically when someone typed in the first letters
that meant someone else had visited the site before. But could it
be Callie? Perhaps it was someone else, Nathan for one...
 
 I shook my head. That was unlikely, because our older brother
hadn't used that computer since he bought himself a faster,
"meaner" machine, as he used to brag. I was about to click on
another page when I got a scare. I screamed and almost toppled
from the chair.
 
 "Callie!"
 
 "What are you doing? What--" She ceased talking. Her face became
pale as her eyes fell on the monitor screen and she realized the
site I was surfing.
 
 She faced me, her lips moved as if she wanted to speak, but no
sound came out of her mouth. She moved her hands up and down as
though she wanted to conjure up words her throat denied her.
Frustrated, she made a half turn and ran out of her own room. 
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 I remained in my sister's room for a long time and thought hard
about what had just happened. I was in an almost catatonic stupor
when I sat down on Callie's bed and doubled over as if I was
assaulted by a severe tummy ache.
 
 Callie, my own sweet sister Callie... Was she...? I couldn't
even formulate the thought. It was too horrible, too unthinkable.
It could not be her, I thought, even though I knew it must be
her. Her reaction had proved it beyond any doubt.
 
 If only she had pretended she knew nothing about the site, I
could have continued pretending she was not the one who had
visited it.
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 I was glad I was in college again, taking my notes in classes of
eager and not-so-eager minds. I was glad I had tons of textbooks
I had to skim through. For the first time in my life I wasn't
homesick. I was actually glad I was away from home.
 
 From time to time I would think about Callie, especially when
the phone rang. Secretly, even to myself and my conscience -- if
I have one --,  I wished to hear her voice. But it wasn't Callie.
Never was. It was Joanne, Lissa, Raymond, Jeff or Ben.
 
 Men were drifting in insidiously. I didn't notice them until it
was too late. They just entered my life, unasked and not
particularly welcome. They were friends, good friends, though.
They accepted me the way I was when I came out to them. None of
them were too eager, or not as crass as some other
representatives of the male species.
 
 Most of all they didn't ask, "Can I watch?"
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 Joanne Seaman and I were lovers. She used to joke she was a lug
(=lesbian until graduation) and I believed her.
 
 Joanne was a long-limbed beauty with hazel eyes and long reddish
brown hair. She was a dreamer, who loved to sing old-fashioned
Leonard Cohen's songs her daddy used to play when she was just
another pigtailed kid. Our mutual attraction seemed to build up
with time.
 
 She brought me to orgasm a few times with her experienced
fingers, while she licked my sensitive nipples. I asked her to
fuck me harder with her fingers and she did it with a vengeance.
She carried me to the brink of a fourth intense orgasm, but she
didn't let me go over the edge. She kept me kissing me while I
fumbled for her nipples of her well-formed, attractive, tanned
breasts.
 
 "You like boobies, don't you?" she asked, taunting me.
 
 "Yes, I have a complete, undeniable fixation with boobies."
 
 Joanne gave a low, satisfied laugh. She shut her eyes when my
fingers touched her labia and her protruding clit.
 
 "Fuck me," she said.
 
 I smiled at her pleading, attractive face. "Okay, Miss Seaman. I
will fuck you as you wish."
 
 We both burst out laughing with my remark, which was good: I
felt some connection with someone I admired; it ground me to
earth; and it made me forget.
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 The holidays came and I panicked. I had to buy so many presents
and I had little time for it. I was out of ideas. I really didn't
feel like buying any presents; I wanted to make them myself. I
wanted them to have some meaning. I knew Nathan would look at me
like I was the dorkiest person on Earth if I came to him with
such a gift, though. Mom would go, "Honey, that's so nice of
you," while Dad would kiss me on the forehead and wouldn't say
much.
 
 And what about Callie? What would she do? Would she want to be
in the same room with me? Someone who knew about her darkest,
deepest secret?
 
 Only then, in front of that monumental window on 5th Avenue, New
York, was I able to confront it. My sister... my sister Callie...
wanted us... to be lovers.
 
 I became breathless for a moment, sickened by that thought,
angry at her, and angry at myself.
 
 In the end I decided to be conservative and bought books for
everybody. I tried to choose books I know they would enjoy. For
Callie I chose _Dare True or Promise_ by Paula Boock. I had
enjoyed reading it. I loved the characters and I was sad when I
reached the end of the book. I knew Callie would love it as much
as I did. 
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 Back home I was greeted by my aunts and by Dad. Mom was busy in
the kitchen, so I went over to give her a kiss. She asked me
about unimportant things, about my dating Joanne, and why I
hadn't brought her along. "She has a family too, Mom," I told
her, realizing the meaning of what I had just said. I shook my
head before I could sink back into depression. _Playing with lugs
is dangerous to your health, Lee_, I heard a voice say. I
wondered if it was my conscience again.
 
 When I was in my room I heard footsteps in the hall. I turned
and saw a thinner, slender, taller Callie. Her hair was longer
than I could remember and I noticed she wore a kind of engagement
ring.
 
 "Hi, Lee." She stayed in the hall by my bedroom door.
 
 "Hi."
 
 "How are you?" she asked, finally having the guts to walk in and
hang around me, keeping a safe distance between us.
 
 "Are you engaged?"
 
 "What do you mean, eng--"
 
 "The ring," I said.
 
 "Oh, yeah. That's Brad's."
 
 "Brad Pitt's?... I thought you were gay."
 
 She laughed and shook her head. "No, not Brad Pitt's. I wish."
 
 "You wish? I thought you were gay. I thought you were into
girls."
 
 "Well, perhaps I am bi, I don't know. I don't know anything."
She jerked up her shoulders and let them fall, her arms trying to
find a way out of her nervous body.
 
 "And why the ring? You're only fifteen. Are you thinking about
getting married?"
 
 "_Not getting married._ It was Brad's way to tell me he wanted
us to go steady."
 
 "And since when are you with him?" I asked, unpacking my
clothes, without really making any eye contact with her.
 
 "Since... Lee, why are you doing this to me?"
 
 I stopped whatever I was folding and faced her. "Do what?"
 
 She looked me deep in the eye and in an intense, trembling
voice, she said, "You know. I don't have to tell you."
 
 No, you don't, I thought, but I didn't say a thing. I resumed
the unpacking, unfolding my crinkled t-shirts on my bed. I took
the hangers and with relentless feminine precision I hung all my
jeans and the only pair of leather pants I owned.
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 It was Christmas Day and I was bored. I'd called Carina Stahl
but she was away with a bunch of friends. They had gone skiing in
Vermont. Her father had this friend who owned a winter resort up
there, who would turn into a golf resort during the Spring and
Summer months. I wish I was there with them, but I knew I
couldn't. After some hesitation I knocked on Callie's door and
before she could say anything I swung it open.
 
 Callie lay on her bed reading the book I'd given her. She looked
up mildly surprised as though my invading her room like that was
a normal thing.
 
 "Like it?"
 
 "Yeah, seems nice."
 
 "May I come in?"
 
 "You're already in."
 
 I closed the door behind me and plumped down on a chair,
ignoring her accusation. We were sisters, and there was no way
around it.
 
 "Can I use your computer?" I asked.
 
 "I thought you hated computers."
 
 "I do. But I need them. It's a kind of love and hate
relationship."
 
 Once again I was able to raise a smile on her serious face. I
hadn't lost my touch --  I was still able to lift up her spirits.
It made me feel good, as though I was a good person after all.
 
 "Is the password still the same?"
 
 "No, I changed it."
 
 When the startup ended she jumped out of bed and quickly typed
in the lock to her secrets. For a short moment I felt embarrassed
by her being so close to me. I was able to feel her body heat and
see the outline of her bra straps that run tightly up and across
her back. The scent she was wearing was also more sophisticated.
My teenaged sister was growing up and without really
acknowledging it I felt the heat in my crotch becoming stronger.
 
 I reasoned with myself it was just lack of sex. I missed Joanne.
I missed her touching me, making me feel a woman, a woman with
needs.
 
 I signed into my online mailboxes and started reading all the
messages. I responded a few of them, then I got tired and signed
out. There was no message from Joanne. I was disappointed because
she didn't think of me during Christmas. Not even a phone call.
She promised she would call me, but so far no word from her.
_That's what you get when you mess with lugs. Lugs are bad to
your health, Lee._ Again that voice, again my would-be
conscience. I eventually decided I was not crazy or a schizo or a
psycho. I just had a very fertile imagination.
 
 I turned to my sister, but she was still reading the book, as
immersed in it as I had been. If I wanted proof we were
genetically related, there it was.
 
 As I didn't want to disturb her I went on surfing. Gradually the
memories about the sisters site came over me and although I
resisted for a while -- reading random, uninteresting stuff -- I
gave in. I typed again those two first characters on the address
field and the first URL the browser chose was the sisters' site.
 
 Knowing that my sister was just a few feet away made everything
quite surreal, almost dreamlike. I clicked on the links, read a
testimonial and a started reading a story. I was impatient,
though. I stopped and thought about what I was doing. Why was I
so curious? Was I considering... No, of course not. I just wanted
to know why Callie would visit such a site. _Incest_, that very
word, had always given me the creeps.
 
 When I was about to desist I found the forum link. I clicked on
it and again my amazement grew. _They even have a discussion
board_, I thought. I skimmed through the topics and then
something hit me. I found a user called Callie. My heart began to
hammer in my chest and the blood rushed in my veins and into my
head.
 
 My train of thought screeched into a halt. Time froze.
 
 I read what Callie had to say. She hadn't even changed our first
names. She had confessed to a bunch of a strangers that she was
in love with me and she had always been.
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 "Lee, you don't smoke," my mother protested when I grabbed her
pack and stole one cigarette.
 
 "No, I don't," I said, searching for a lighter.
 
 "So why are you smoking?"
 
 "Mom, I need this."
 
 My mother called the national guard and the cops, meaning my
father and Uncle John.
 
 "Make her stop," she demanded.
 
 "She's eighteen, Lorrie," Uncle John came in my rescue. "She can
do whatever she wants."
 
 I smiled at him and he smiled back at me. I noticed John's eyes
falling on my body, my tight t-shirt and my jeans. Suddenly I
surrendered my stolen cigarette to Mom and I left the living
room, my head low, my long hair keeping me safe somehow.
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 I felt nauseous as I paced my room. _Incest_ was such a ugly
word. Even my uncle wanted me. I wondered why, I wondered whether
I was the only sane person around the house. I felt like crying
but I didn't. Everybody told me I was this strong, uncaring
person, incapable of real emotions. But they knew nothing about
me. Nothing!
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 I let Callie hug me when we said our goodbyes. The holidays were
almost over and I was going to spend New Year's Day at Joanne's.
She had called me the day before to say she missed me.
 
 "I loved the book," Callie said. "I really did."
 
 "I'm glad you did."
 
 I hopped into Dad's car and while he drove me off to the airport
I saw Callie wave at me. And her waving hand... was naked. There
was no engagement ring on any of her fingers. The engagement ring
was gone.
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 Going to Joanne's turned out to be a big mistake. When I arrived
at her parents' place in upstate New York, Joanne was in the
middle of a crisis. Her parents had found out about our
relationship. She said she was sorry but I had to go. Her
uptight, upstate parents didn't want me there.
 
 "Why don't you come with me?"
 
 "They'd never forgive me."
 
 "It's your life, not theirs."
 
 "I know, but..."
 
 "OK, suit yourself." I made a half turn and realized I had to
call a cab. The other taxi was gone and I was in the middle of
nowhere. It was cold, it was snowing, and I was pissed beyond
belief. "Can I..." I began, but she was back inside and the door
had gone shut. I could go and knock and ask whether they'd let me
at least call a cab. My dignity was the only thing I had left. I
walked away with my backpack and I had a go at hitchhiking.
 
 An eager, suspicious-looking guy pulled over and I moved away
from his car, making clear I wasn't interested in getting a lift
from him. When he left his Honda SUV and walked toward me, I was
saved by an approaching patrol car. The cop got out of his
vehicle and asked, "Are you OK, miss?"
 
 "Actually I'm not," I said, walking toward the cop and away from
the creep. "I'm lost, and..."
 
 "I'll give you a ride, miss. It's dangerous to hitchhike, you
know... A pretty girl like you, alone, is a too damn tempting
popsicle around here."
 
 He opened the trunk and helped me with my heavy backpack. When I
looked up the creep was gone. I got mad at the cop. He could have
at least asked some questions to my would-be attacker, but then I
thought I was being unreasonable. The cop didn't have any
evidence the guy wanted to hurt me. After all, I was a too damn
tempting popsicle, wasn't I? And who would care about a popsicle?
Joanne didn't. Then why would he?
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 I spent New Year's Day in New York. It was an unusually quiet
day. The streets were snowy white and the cold wasn't as intense
as at Joanne's. I called my parents to say I wasn't at Joanne's
in case they called her to ask about me. Mom wanted me to go
home, but I ignored that remark. I hung up when she began to
insist on it. I sighed from relief when I regained my freedom. I
looked around me and made an effort to cheer myself up. I knew
Joanne was not going to stay with me forever, but still the wound
was there inside me.
 
 I thought about Callie and the book I gave her as I walked down
5th Avenue. I considered going downtown and see some art
galleries or watching the ferries coming and going. Eventually I
came across a cybercaf and went in. The place looked crowded, and
I thought that luckily I had left my backpack in a locker at the
train station. Some patrons stared at me, probably not used to
"chicks" invading their space. I heard a whistle and a hoot when
I removed my winter cap and my tresses fell over my back and
upper chest. I asked for a computer and the barman assigned me
one at a far-away corner.
 
 "You'll be safer there," he said, winking at me.
 
 "Thanks," I said, smiling at him. "I appreciate it."
 
 "Anytime. Do you want anything to drink?"
 
 I shook my head and crossed the room, avoiding the staring and
not caring about the remarks horny boys always make when they see
a girl their age trespassing.
 
 I sat down, launched the web browser and signed into my Hotmail
account. I checked for any new email messages, but I hadn't none,
save for the usual spam. I was about to stand up and leave the
place when, out of nowhere, I felt a familiar urge and
fascination sweep over me. I recalled the sisters site,
sistersinlove.org. I fought that crazy idea, but the more I
struggled with it the weaker I became. I told myself I was in a
public place, and if I ever got caught surfing on such a site I
would die from shame.
 
 But I am weak, and I have this unhealthy fascination for the
forbidden. Against my better judgment I typed in the site's
address and the pencil drawing with two girls, sisters, holding
hands appeared. My pulse beat faster than the site's beating
heart located under the pencil drawing. Checking for any possible
witnesses over the monitor I clicked on the enter link and went
directly to the forum page. I looked for any new posts. There
weren't many and none was from Callie. Disappointed, I read a
testimonial and then a second. Again I was filled with amazement,
confusion, even anger. I exited from the web browser, paid and
left the cybercaf. 
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 On a Friday night I was in my dorm, reading, as always. Raymond
and Jeff had invited me to go with them to a party but I had
declined. I felt tired, and most of all I knew Joanne was going
to be there. Since that incident at her parents' we hadn't
talked. We avoided each other as if we had the plague. The irony
of it all was that Joanne wasn't even a lug. Joanne Seaman had
not remained a lesbian until graduation. Her parents made sure of
it.
 
 My phone rang and -- surprise, surprise -- it was Callie.
 
 "Hi, Sis," I said, sounding more cheerful than I cared for.
 
 "Hi, Lee. How are you?"
 
 "I'm OK. Why are you calling? Is Mom and Dad all right?"
 
 "Yeah, they're fine. Nathan, too. He's got a new girlfriend. You
should see her. She's a hottie and... quite nice."
 
 "You met her?"
 
 "Yes, Nathan and his girlfriend came by on New Year's Day."
 
 "Oh, shit. I should've stayed with you."
 
 "Yes, I heard that shit about Joanne. I'm sorry."
 
 "Well, it only shows we weren't made for each other. And how
about you and Brad? Has he given you another ring?"
 
 "No, why would he? Anyway, we broke up."
 
 "When? I mean... I'm sorry."
 
 "Don't be. I was just fooling myself. I'm gay like I told you.
It was going nowhere."
 
 "But why did you go out with him in the first place?" I had
tried not to sound outraged but I must have failed. I wanted to
kick myself for it.
 
 "I don't know. I kind of... reacted..."
 
 Although I knew what she meant I wanted to hear her say it.
"Reacted to what?"
 
 A long moment of silence followed. "You know, Lee. I don't have
to tell you. And I know you've been to the site when I wasn't
looking."
 
 "I don't know what you're talking about," I said, playing the
dumb blonde. "What site?"
 
 "Lee, don't. I know you've been there. If you knew more about
computers you would know why I know it."
 
 "So tell me why you know what you think you know."
 
 "Geez, you sound like a politician. I know it because the
browsers record every site you surf into. It's called "history".
You need to delete the browser's history and cache to be safe. If
you don't know how to do it, ask someone who does."
 
 I had only a vague idea of what she was talking about. I thought
about my adventure at the cybercaf. I realized the nice guy
behind the bar was probably smiling now. He knew about a girl who
had entered his place, alone, facing a bunch of losers, because
she wanted to visit a site devoted to incestuous sisters. Wow.
I'd be the talk of the town. In spite of my inner sarcasm, I felt
queasy. Going back to that cybercaf was now out of the question.
 
 "You're fifteen. How do you know all these things?"
 
 "Because I'm smarter." I heard her giggle.
 
 "Yeah, right. So, if you're so smart, why don't you come visit
me next weekend? Probably I need you to rub off some of your
amazing brains on me. I need to get smarter sooner rather than
later, in time for this semester's finals."
 
 "Are you sure?"
 
 "Sure I am sure."
 
 "OK, how about _this_ weekend?"
 
 "This weekend? OK, if that's what you want -- to waste away your
time with your older sister, who's a dumb blonde, according to
you."
 
 "Yeah, I'm crazy about dumb blondes. They're more of a
challenge. They need to be taught a lesson so they get as
intelligent as me."
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 Saturday morning Raymond and I went to pick her up at the
airport. I had warned him that Callie was gay. I didn't know why
I said it to him, but I guess my jealous side won over and I
wanted to make sure he understood his chances of bedding her were
pretty slim. And besides, she was only fifteen and was my baby
sister. So I basically told him to back off.
 
 Ray drove us back to the dorms and I thanked him with a kiss.
When he roared off my smartass of a sister looked at me with a
smirk.
 
 "What?" I said, helping her with one of her travel bags.
 
 "He's cute. Is he your boyfriend or something?"
 
 "I thought you were gay. And I thought I was gay. Somehow I
don't see guys fitting into this picture."
 
 "Well, I told you. I am actually bi. More gay than bi, but still
bi."
 
 "I don't understand you. You say one thing one day, and you say
the opposite the next day. I just don't get it."
 
 "That's hardly a surprise. After all, I am not the dumb blonde
here."
 
 "Ha, ha," I faked. Her joke had fallen flat. I didn't feel like
laughing; my humor had soured. I tried to snap out of it and be
nice to her, but I just couldn't.
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 In the afternoon we went to the local mall and then to the
movies. In the dark I felt her arm against mine. I tried not to
dwell too much on that physical contact. _Get a grip on yourself,
she's your sister_, I heard my conscience say. Yes, but that's
not me who's trying to seduce her, I countered. It's she who's
trying to seduce me. _No matter_, the voice said, _you're the
older one. She's only fifteen, and she's your baby sister. You
should know better than that._
 
 I moved away my arm from hers and let it fall on my lap. Soon
enough, during a scary part, she took hold of my hand, her
fingers entwining mine. _Lee, you're letting her._ Yes, I am, I
said to my inner voice.
 
 "What did you say?"
 
 I looked at my sister. "Did I say anything?"
 
 "Yes, you did. You said, 'Yes, I am.'"
 
 "Sorry, I was talking to myself."
 
 "You do that?"
 
 "Yes."
 
 "Funny." I didn't reply even though I wanted to know what she
found so funny about that. I forced myself to watch the movie and
we remained silent for a while. When I thought she was not going
to give me any explanation, she continued. "I do the same."
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 I lay awake in my bed, listening to Callie's easy breathing
right next to me, and what I read on the site came back to haunt
me. I felt horny and wanted to masturbate. I closed my eyes and
resisted my growing desire. I told myself I was a sane woman
despite my going to a cybercaf to read stories about sisters who
are in love with their sisters. _What was I thinking?_
 
 Callie rolled over toward me, face down on a pillow she'd
borrowed from my absent roommate. I told her she could sleep in
Helen's bed, but Callie wanted to sleep with me. I had frowned
and started protesting, but Callie reasoned, "Come on, we used to
do that when we were kids. Why would it be different now? I am
not gonna rape you, OK?"
 
 Rape me? Callie wouldn't rape me. I laughed and let her stay in
my bed. I guess I wanted to be close to someone. I was so tired
of being alone.
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 Sunday was a beautiful day. Callie and I went out for breakfast.
The place was not far away from campus. It was a kind of an
idyllic place, surrounded by trees and a gurgling creek. It had a
playground with a sandbox in the middle of it. We went inside and
sat down on a booth near a wide-paned window. I was about to
order some eggs and bacon, when my sis asked the waitress for
milk and cereals. She gave Callie a weird look, but she did what
she was told.
 
 Even though it was January and was cold, Callie and I made a
small trip through the woods covered with snow.
 
 "I think I could live here forever."
 
 I stared at her back as she walked in front of me. I wanted to
see her face and see how serious she was.
 
 "I think I could live here forever with the right person," she
insisted.
 
 If that was a bait I didn't take it. I kept my mouth shut. She
turned to face me.
 
 "Lee, wouldn't you?"
 
 "You're just fifteen. You don't know what you want."
 
 "You're eighteen. Do you know what _you_ want?"
 
 "Maybe."
 
 We stared at each other, and our smiles grew. She giggled and I
widened my smile into a grin. She turned her back on me and
walked on. As we hiked through broken, leafless branches and
yielding snow-covered ground I thought about the subtle changes
in my relationship with Callie. Some remarks that would surely
have started a fight between us a couple of years ago were now a
reason to smile. As they say, _we came a long way, baby._
 
 
 
                                   -o0o--
 
 
 
 Instead of going with the guys to the parties awaiting us, I
went home during Spring Break. I think I was fed up with the
drinking and the pill-taking and the cigarette smoke. And most of
all, I missed my hometown, my friends, my folks and Callie.
Perhaps that was the uncoolest thing for a college freshman to
feel but I admitted it to Jeff.
 
 "I bet it's a girl," he'd said.
 
 I gave him a sort of mysterious, smug smile and said, "Maybe."
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 Callie and I went to the beach again. This time there was no
wine, no nothing, just the two of us. Callie wanted us to talk. I
asked her what about, but she kept stalling for time until she
mentioned the beach.
 
 You could say I knew what was coming, but I had thought about
that possibility while she was away from me -- at my parents'.
And the more I thought about it the more it felt right. I knew we
were sisters, I knew nobody would understand, but my yearning for
her had grown to unstoppable proportions. I had had a few dreams
about her kissing me and making love to me. I had felt guilty
about it. My conscience kept mauling my freer side. But I was
tired... Tired of struggling with myself, with my feelings, with
my sexual needs.
 
 I'd let it go once in my bed, in my dorm room; I came with a
long moan, my hands wet with my secretions. I worried about
waking up Helen, but my roommate went on snoring.
 
 "What do you want to talk about?" I asked as we strolled on the
deserted beach. It was as dark as the last time we'd been down
there. Perhaps we should've been scared, but being wise was not
exactly in our plans right then.
 
 "Shh, you're ruining the mood."
 
 So, my sister wanted to summon up the right mood, as though she
was a shaman, a witch of some kind. I kept ambling beside her. I
was in good spirits. I felt content, some exhilaration even,
although I didn't understand exactly why.
 
 Callie looked like Amy Lee, the Evanescence band singer and
front woman. She wore a loose black t-shirt, a long, flowing
black skirt adorned with multiple layers of black lace. A pair of
high-heeled ankle boots completed her wardrobe. Only Callie's
honey blonde long tresses didn't match, as Amy's scalp was
covered with pitch-black strands of hair. While she was gone
Callie had turned into a full-fledged goth girl, which included
the use of black-tinted eye-shadow and nail polish, spiked
bracelets and a leather choker. At first I thought she was just
trying to ape me; now I had to admit Callie had surpassed me. In
a way I was proud of her, as she had the strength to reinvent
herself, while I remained undecided, choosing discretion and a
mixed style for my clothing: not really a goth, but not really
not a goth, if you know what I mean.
 
 After a quarter of an hour I got tired of walking on the beach
and sat down on the sand, facing the darkened sea, listening to
the incoming waves crashing down and sliding in and out. Callie
did the same, although I could feel her mounting nervousness.
 
 "Callie."
 
 "Yes?"
 
 "Just say it."
 
 "Say what?"
 
 "It's you who wanted us to talk."
 
 "I know."
 
 "So say it."
 
 There was a pause. Her face became more distinct despite the
darkness. "It's not easy to say it... to say it out loud."
 
 "Just say it then."
 
 "I wanted..."
 
 "Yes?" I said because she didn't go on.
 
 "I wanted to know... why... you went to the site."
 
 I smiled a little. I suddenly felt very tired. I realized I
would've left at that moment if she weren't my sister.
 
 "I don't know, Callie. I really don't. I am a morbid person. I
like to hurt myself. I am a masochist."
 
 "Lies. I know you better than that."
 
 "You're fifteen. You're not supposed to know these things. You
were not supposed to be on that site. Did you read the warning?
_Adult content._ Not meant for teenagers."
 
 "The site didn't make me who I am. I went to the site to find
answers."
 
 "And did you?"
 
 "Well, not really. But it helped to know I am not alone."
 
 So, _where does that leave us?_ I thought. I wanted something to
happen. I dreaded to know what, though.
 
 "Lee?" she called without looking at me; she kept staring at the
waves.
 
 "Yes?"
 
 "Remember when we were little? You used to sing this song about
a fairy who fell in love with the Moon? I didn't know the
significance of that. I just thought it was the best song ever."
 
 "You did? Why didn't you say it?"
 
 "I did. You just didn't listen to me."
 
 Another moment of silence passed and we stayed there watching
the waves and facing the cold sea breeze.
 
 "Lee?"
 
 "Yes?"
 
 "I love you."
 
 This time she turned to me and I saw she was crying.
 
 "I know." I didn't know what else I could say.
 
 "Lee?  _I... love you._"
 
 "I know. I know, Callie. But that doesn't help us at all."
 
 For a while she stood perfectly still. Her quietness didn't
last. Her pent-up emotions burst out and she crumbled into a
heaving sobbing fit.
 
 "Callie." I slid close to her, my hands gliding across her back,
assuaging her pain. "Callie, listen to me. Callie!"
 
 I held her tight, pulling her onto my lap. I let her shed all
the tears, the frustrations she must have endured. I was
surprised by her intensity. It was overwhelming.
 
 
 
                                   -o0o-
 
 
 
 The next day I woke up with Callie beside me. I felt her naked
body against mine, her thigh keeping mine apart, making the right
pressure against my clitoris. We had made love the night before.
Sex with Callie was explosive; it had depth, it had a deeper
meaning. It fulfilled me in several ways. I trusted her, most of
all.
 
 She kissed me with manic fervor, her lips trembling, whispering
words I didn't want to comprehend. I came three times with her
fingers inside me. She was relentless, in the way women are
relentless when they want something. And she wanted me -- badly.
 
 Sometimes I wish this were just a dream. Sometimes I am happy it
isn't.
 
 These days I don't hate computers so much. They allow me to
connect with like-minded people. They allow me to free a couple
of minds, perhaps change the mentalities of a few. Callie says
this is just wishful thinking; I say this is just computer
stuff.
 
 
 
 
 
                                  THE END
 


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