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NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 29 Aug 2004 16:30:21 -0500
From: "Bernard Sagon" <bernard-sagon@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} (New) Amanda, My Sibling - 07 of 15  - Chap. 4 (no sex)
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Date: Mon, 30 Aug 2004 04:10:17 -0400
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AMANDA, MY SIBLING - Chapter 4 (no sex).
By Bernard Sagon
Copyright (c) 2004 - all rights reserved.

================================================================
This is Chapter 4 of the sequel to my earlier story
"Sis On Tape".  As always, any comments and criticism
from those readers interested enough to write will be
greatly appreciated.  Please send any comments to the
newsgroup or directly to bernard_sagon@hotmail.com -
I will attempt to answer all E-mail within a reasonable
time frame.  Comments posted to the newsgroups
alt.sex.stories or alt.sex.stories.d will be answered
within the newsgroup they are posted to.
================================================================
If you are unfamiliar with "Sis On Tape", the prequel to
this story, I highly recommend that you read it first.
Although "Amanda, My Sibling" has been written to stand on
its own merits (such as they are), this story and its
characters will be more understandable if you are familiar
with the earlier work.  I am reposting that story to the
newsgroups for your convenience.
================================================================
Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction and
contains sexually explicit adult material.  If you are not
an adult, do not wish to view such material, or if such
material is prohibited in your locality, you should exit
at this time.  YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
================================================================
This is a copyrighted work of fiction and the author
retains all rights to this story.  This story may be
freely copied and/or distributed for non-commercial use
or by archival services with this notice and any
applicable headers and footers attached, as required by
law.  This story may not be reproduced in any form for
profit without the express written permission of the
author.
================================================================
This story consists of a prologue, nine chapters, and an
epilogue.
================================================================


Chapter 4:

With the increased intimacy between Amanda and myself came
other changes.  Picking up on what my sister had confided
in me, I set up a little surprise for her during the
middle of summer vacation.  Amanda had developed an
interest in theater during her freshman year of college,
so when I found out that the National Shakespeare Touring
Company would be passing through our area, I made my
plans.  Perhaps I shouldn't have, but I knew I would be
pushing her down a path she already wanted to explore.
And I could never have guessed where that path would end
up leading both of us.

Now that we were both out of school, we had the house to
ourselves during the week while our parents were at work.
We were alone together in the living room, just listening
to music on the entertainment center's CD changer.
This was the other dimension of our new relationship - the
non-sexual part.  Over the months since our first
couplings, we had developed a series of mutual likes that
we shared.  My sister had introduced me to progressive
jazz.  I had introduced her to modern folk and - God help
me - rock-a-billy.  Although our tastes in music remained
distinctly different, we had managed to find a common
ground of works that we both enjoyed.

That day it had been her turn to choose the music, and the
album d'jeur was by Miles Davis.  I found that I liked
it quite a bit, although not nearly as much as my sister
did.  I could watch the music wash over her and carry her
away.  Indeed, half the fun of our listening sessions was
watching her response to the music - a visceral response
that displayed almost as much intensity as her sexual
ones when in the throes of passion.

Amanda turned to me during a particularly complex
interplay of instruments and said "Don't you just love the
counterpoint during this part - the way it and the melody
accent each other?  It's almost like two lovers flirting
back and forth with each other."

"You have quite an imagination there, Sis." I answered.
"All I can hear is music.  Not that the music isn't nice,
but I think I'm more oriented toward lyrics.  I need
words to move me."

"Words operate on a different part of your brain," she
countered.  "You have to think about them.  Pure music
works on a deeper level.  You need to open yourself up to
new experiences Kenneth - learn to let your feelings go."
Amanda admonished me with the voice of authority,
"Not everything can be put into words."

I grunted, "Yeah, I've learned that."  Stepping into the
opening she had given me, I continued, "Speaking of new
experiences, you're due for one of your own.  I've been
saving a little surprise for you."

"A surprise?" she responded inquisitively.  "What kind of
surprise?"

"The good kind, I hope." I said, smiling.  "Just stay
right there.  I'll be back in a minute."

I left her gaping at me as I headed up the stairs, taking
them two at a time.  It was a short trip to my bedroom to
retrieve my prize from the drawer of my desk.  Bounding
back down the stairs, I returned to her holding an
elongated envelope in my hand.

"I think you'll like this." I said, pressing the envelope
into her palm.

She turned it over in her hand, examining it carefully.
She had no problem knowing what the envelope must contain.
The "Ticket Master" logo was prominently printed across
the envelope.  Amanda lifted the envelope's flap and
looked inside.

"Oh my God... " she exclaimed as she looked at the
contents - two tickets fourth row center to the National
Shakespeare Company's production of "Othello".  "I don't
believe this!  I love Shakespeare!  How did you ever know?"

I answered with a slight laugh.  "Do you think that the
only time I pay attention to what you're saying is when
you're in the middle of an orgasm?  You've been talking
about theatre ever since you got involved with that
little theatre group at your college."

"But there's two tickets here," she said, pointing out the
obvious.  "I didn't know you liked Shakespeare."

"You're right about that." I acknowledged.  "'Best Little
Whorehouse In Texas' is more my speed."

She looked at me, confusion on her face.  "But if the
second ticket isn't for you, who IS it for?"

"Cindy Hartwell." I replied simply.

Amanda looked at me very strangely.  "Cindy Hartwell?  But
we don't hang together.  You know that."

"I also know you told me that you wished that you and she
were friends.  This is your chance, if you play it right.
I'm sure she'd enjoy the play.  I've been doing a little
strategic reconnaissance lately.  Cindy is home from
college for the summer and I've managed to do a little
eavesdropping on her and her friends.  In fact, she was
the one who mentioned to her companions that the National
Shakespeare Company would be in town and how much she
would love to see them."

"So why doesn't she just go with her friends?"

"Because," I stated - as if explaining the facts of life
to her - "as you once told me, she's one of six kids being
raised by a widowed mother.  Not everybody in the world
has the cash to spare for seventy-five dollar theatre
tickets."

"You spent seventy-five dollars for these tickets?" Amanda
asked, stunned.

"Seventy-five dollars EACH." I corrected.

"God Ken!  You shouldn't have gotten me these.  You can't
afford that kind of money."

"Not as a routine expense, I can't," I responded, lightly.
"It really wasn't that bad.  I knew this was important to
you."

If my sister only knew.  I had spent the spring working
odd jobs to save up enough to cover the cost of car
repairs on my shitbox Ford Escort.  Now it would be at
least another three months before I'd be able to earn
enough money to put new rear tires on my car.  My poor
bank account had taken a SEVERE hit buying those tickets.

"Well, I still don't know.  What if Cindy doesn't accept?
It's not like she knows me."

"Then I'll be out the cost of the second ticket,"
I responded, casually.  "I assume you'd still want to go.
But I don't think that's going to happen.  I know you.
You know how to turn on the charm when you want something."

I could see the battle going on in her mind.  Amanda had
never had to worry about being accepted.  But this was
different.  This involved some real risk.  She would be
inviting an outsider into her world - or ever riskier,
she would asking to enter another person's world.
She wasn't sure of the rules of THIS game.

"Do you really think she might accept?" she asked
sheepishly.

I knew then that she wanted to do it and that I had been
right to push the issue.  "Why wouldn't she?" I replied.
"At worse, she'll find out that you're not her cup of tea.
She'll still get to see a play she wouldn't otherwise be
able to.  I think she'll take the chance."

"Well, I hope you're right."

"So, why don't you find out?  Give her a call."

"You mean right now?" she said, nervously.

"No time like the present.  I just happen to know her
phone number."

My sister gave me a questioning look.  "You plotted all
this, didn't you?"

"Guilty on all counts." I confirmed, with a grin.  Then
I continued more seriously, "This isn't some kind of
prank, Amanda.  I did it for you.  You told me how you
wished you had approached Cindy.  Well, I don't want you
to have to live with regrets of what might have been.
Maybe it will work out, or maybe it won't, but you'll
never know if you don't try.  So dial the number."

"Alright." she said.  "I'll do it.  Just stay with me for
moral support.  I'm not as certain as you are that this is
a good idea."

"I'll be right here with you.  Why don't you use the
speakerphone?  That way I'll know what's being said."

"Okay, we'll do that." she agreed.

"Come on," I said and headed toward our parent's bedroom
with Amanda tagging along behind me.  We crossed the
bedroom into Dad's den on the other side.  I waited for
my sister to take the chair at the desk, and then seated
myself in the recliner by the window.

"Well, here goes nothing" my sister said, obviously
nervous.  She flipped the switch on the speakerphone,
bringing it the life.  The soft insistent sound of the
dial tone could be heard.  I gave her the number, which
she dialed, the tones audible over the phone's speaker.
The telephone on the other end began to ring.

I sure hoped that someone was home.  Having pushed Amanda
this far, I didn't know if I'd be able to convince her to
risk making the trip a second time.  I needn't have
worried.  The call was answered on the fourth ring by a
soft feminine voice.

"Good morning, Hartwell residence.  Can I help you?"

"Ah... yes," Amanda said hesitantly.  "Could you tell me
if Cindy is there?"

"This is Cindy."

"Oh... ah, hi.  This is Amanda Carson.  You may not
remember me, but we were seniors together two years ago
in high school.  Anyway, I happen to have been given two
tickets for the National Shakespeare Company's production
of 'Othello', and I was just wondering if you might ...
ah ... you know ... ah ... want to go to see it with me?"

There was a long pause from the other end of the line
before Cindy responded, "Are you sure you want to ask
ME?"

"Absolutely certain," Amanda replied, without hesitation.

"Why?  Why me?  We're not friends or anything.  We've
never hung with the same crowds.  I don't understand."

Amanda tried to ease her confusion.  "I want to go with
someone who can appreciate what we'll be seeing.
I discovered theatre last year in college and just fell
in love with it.  I want to share the experience with
someone who'll enjoy it as much as I will.  That's why
I thought of you."

You could hear the lack of comprehension - the doubt - in
Cindy's voice.  "But why would you think of me?  I still
don't understand."

"Because we had senior English together.  You sat in the
front of the room and were so smart.  I was near the back
and, I hate to say, wasn't as involved.  But I remember
when we had to read 'MacBeth'.  I could tell then that you
were into Shakespeare, so that's how I knew that you might
be interested in seeing 'Othello'.  So what do you say?
Would you like to attend a show with me?  You're invited
if you want to come."

"Well," Cindy stammered nervously, "I don't know..."

"Please?" Amanda continued.  "What have you got to lose?
At worse we'll find we don't hit it off.  You'll still
get a nice evening out of it and you WILL get to see
the play."

Even I could hear the uncertainty, the fear of being the
outsider in Cindy's answer.  "Well, are you sure you want
me with you?  I don't think I'll fit in very well."

Amanda could feel her chance to reach out to Cindy
slipping through her fingers.  She must have made up
her mind to go for broke, because when she answered
she didn't hold anything back.

"Cindy, please.  I really want this.  I know how you must
feel.  You think I may be setting you up for some cruel
joke.  I can't blame you for that.  Some of the girls
I used to hang with in high school would do just that sort
of thing.  They wouldn't think twice about trying to get
you into some sort of embarrassing situation and hurting
your feelings just so they could feel superior to you.
But I'm not like that, Cindy.  I want to be your friend.
I really do.  Do you think you could believe that?"

"Well," Cindy replied hesitantly, "I suppose so."

"Then please say you'll come.  I know you'll enjoy the
play."

"Well... "

"And Cindy...?"

"Yes?" she responded, rising to the bait.

"If it makes you feel any better about this," Amanda
continued, "you should know that I'm just as scared
about asking you to go to this play with me as you
must be about accepting."

"Really?" Cindy responded, a tone of surprise in her
voice.  "You're afraid of ME?"

"Terrified actually," my sister confessed.  "You and the
rest of your friends are all so smart.  I was always
afraid I'd end up looking so stupid if I tried to join
your group."  Amanda released a small sigh.  "Put yourself
in my shoes.  It's not all that safe for me to reach out
toward you.  I know the kind of things that people used to
say about the girls I hung with.  You could end up
rejecting me as part of the 'Bimbo Brigade'.  I could get
hurt too, you know."

"I'd never do something like that." Cindy assured her.

"I know.  I've seen you with your friends.  I know what
kind of person you are.  I've been hoping to get to know
you for a long time now.  I wanted to congratulate you
back when you got your Fulbright, but I didn't know how
to approach you."  Amanda paused for emphasis.  "Cindy,
I still don't know how to approach you, but I'm making the
effort.  I'm taking a risk with you.  I think you're worth
that risk."

"Wow!  I never knew you felt like that." was Cindy's
response.  "I don't know what to say..."

"Then say you'll go with me to the play.  PLEASE?"

There was a long pause that seemed to last forever.

"Very well," Cindy finally said, "I'll go to the play
with you."

"Oh, thank you.  You won't regret it."

"No promises though.  I still don't know how well we'll
get along."

Amanda agreed.  "Right - no promises.  All I'm asking for
is a chance."

Things pretty much wound down from there.  Cindy and
Amanda continued to discuss practical things like times
and dates.  Finally Cindy and my sister said their
goodbyes and the soft click of Cindy hanging up could be
heard over the speakerphone.  Her hand shaking a little,
Amanda flipped the small switch, hanging up her end.

"Well," I volunteered, "that seems to have gone pretty
well."

The flicker of a smile crossed my sister's face.
"Yeah, it did kinda, didn't it?"  Amanda shook her head
in disbelief.  "I didn't think she'd ever agree.
I could feel how uncertain she was about my
approaching her."

"Well, I knew you could do it."  I grinned at her
knowingly.  "I think the part where you told her the risk
you were taking was what pushed her over.  None of that
was an act, was it?  You were really that scared?"

"It was all real - at least with the exception of my
telling her the idea of asking her to join me was mine.
All the rest was the God's-honest truth."

"That's what I thought.  I'm sorry I had to push you into
calling her, but you might never have done it on your own."

"I know." Amanda replied sheepishly.  "I guess I owe you
one."

"Don't worry about that." I answered lightly.  "Just have
a good time with Cindy"

****************************************************************

During the two weeks before the weekend of the play
approached, several more phone calls took place between
Amanda and Cindy as arrangements were finalized.  At
Amanda's insistence reservations were made for dinner at
one of the better Italian restaurants in the city.  This
restaurant was one that my sister was quite familiar with,
as it had been a favorite with a number of the boys she
had dated in high school due to its good food and - more
importantly - its reasonable prices.  My sister discussed
the whole idea with me and explained that she had
deliberately gone out of her way to choose a place that
Cindy could afford on her limited budget.  I had to admire
her forethought, and told her so.  I had not thought past
the play tickets when I had planned this outing.
My sister could use the fact that they were a gift to pass
the cost of them off so Cindy wouldn't have to pay for
hers.  This dinner was a perfect addition.  It would allow
Cindy to avoid the embarrassment of having to let Amanda
pay for the entire evening and make this whole affair
more of a meeting of equals.

Amanda also went out of her way to make Cindy comfortable
by ensuring her clothing would compliment her companion's.
On this last item she was pleased to discover that no
dressing down would be required.  Cindy was in possession
of a very nice, very elegant cocktail dress that would
nicely match the outfit that Amanda planed to wear.
(We would later learn that it was her mother's, who was
almost the same size, and who had become quite adept at
performing alterations while trying to stretch her budget
to clothe her six children.)

In the last few days before the play, Cindy even managed
to call our house once or twice.  I was allowed to
eavesdrop as plans were finalized.  It was evident that
Cindy was excited to be able attend the play and her
enthusiasm was contagious.  Having decided to accept
Amanda's invitation, she had warmed to my sister, and my
sister toward her.  The reserved tone they had both first
displayed toward each other was gradually replaced by an
easier, less guarded one as the big evening finally came
around.

Still, I don't think I've ever seen my sister more nervous
than she was when that evening finally did arrive.  By
this time everyone in the family was aware that Amanda
would be going out with a new friend.  The whole thing was
amazing to me.  My sister and I had managed to hide from
our parents the fact that we had been fucking each other's
brains out for almost a year, but let Amanda try to go out
with a new girlfriend - a person she wasn't certain about -
and my parents had almost immediately picked up on the fact
that something different was going on.  Amanda had
willingly succumbed to my mother's third-degree when it
arrived.  I think she wanted more encouragement than just
what I could provide.  Thus, both my parents knew who she
would be going out with, and how much she desired a
successful outcome for this evening.  Of course, they
didn't know how deeply rooted her fears and hopes were
(and my little part in this escapade had judiciously not
been mentioned).  Still, a solid front of family support
was on display.

My mother offered her maternal encouragement as Amanda was
leaving, giving her a series of matronly banalities as my
sister waited to exit from the house.  I wonder if most
parents realize how trite the advice they give their kids
sounds; the only saving grace was my mothers' obvious
sincerity as she gave it.  My father (never a man of many
words) grunted his encouragement, and then it was my turn.
I wished my sister well and sent her out to face the great
unknown, hoping that the whole thing would work out.

****************************************************************

And a good time was had by all.

The evening could only be considered to be an unqualified
success.  Cindy had enjoyed the restaurant and the two
girls had managed to split a bottle of wine, getting loose
before they ever reached the theatre.  Once there, both
Cindy and Amanda had loved the play - the acting had been
excellent and of course the material couldn't be faulted.
 From what my sister later told me, they both gushed about
the performance all the way back home.

Cindy called the next day to thank Amanda for inviting her
and they ended up talking to each other for almost an hour.
I wasn't allowed to eavesdrop on this communication, but as
it took place with Amanda on the phone sitting across the
living room from me, I could listen with detached
amusement to my sister's end of the conversation.
A lot of it centered around the play - about what they
had seen, what they had thought, what they had felt - but
a lot of it was just girl talk.  It seemed that Cindy and
Amanda had managed to hit it off.

Confirmation of this occurred over the rest of the summer
vacation.  Cindy invited Amanda to join her and her
friends for a series of French films at the local Arts
cinema.  Amanda had been a bit hesitant about meeting
Cindy's friends but finally agreed after a great deal of
encouragement from Mom, Dad, me, and finally (and most
importantly) Cindy herself.  She found she was fine once
Cindy's friends got a chance to know her and discover
that while she might be a blonde, she was hardly a dumb
one.  She was soon accepted by Cindy's group - treated as
an equal and able to hold her own in conversation with
any one of them.

Nor was the relationship one-sided.  Amanda had already
started sorting through the group she had once hung with,
keeping her relationships with the girls she decided had
some substance, and avoiding those who were too petty or
self-centered.  It was interesting watching the process -
in some cases it was even a revelation.  Several girls
that I would never have considered to be very well endowed
in the character department turned out to be really nice
people when they were allowed to be themselves without
all the games.  I guess you can never really know from
appearances.

My sister introduced Cindy to several of her friends who
she thought might appreciate her despite her nerdish
reputation.  They soon took the less-experienced girl
under their wings, giving her pointers on make-up,
hairstyles, fashion and life in general.  A change
gradually took place in her under the tutelage of my
sister and her companions.  Cindy had always been
something of a "plain Jane", hardly even wearing
lipstick, her mousy brown hair in a simple ponytail.
Although she was reasonably attractive, she had also been
a late bloomer and was hardly someone you would think of
as turning heads.  That wasn't true any longer.  The
change in her appearance was subtle but dramatic.
Suddenly, with Amanda and her friends working to bring out
the best in Cindy, a person could look at her and see how
pretty she really was, catching more than a hint of the
classy good looks she was growing into.

The end result of all this cross-pollination was the
partial joining of Cindy's and Amanda's former groups.
It certainly wasn't complete or totally without friction,
but it was successful to a surprising degree.  Without
the high school caste system hanging over them imposing
its rigid social strictures, both groups were surprised
to discover the others weren't quite the oddities they had
once thought them to be.  Some of them ever started to
like and/or even date each other.  By the time the fall
semester of college started up Cindy and Amanda were well
on the way to becoming what they would eventually become -
best friends.

And all because of a little push on my part.

****************************************************************

End of Chapter 4 of "Amanda, My Sibling"

bernard_sagon@hotmail.com

Additional Bernard Sagon stories can be found at
storiesonline.net or the alt.sex.stories text
repository at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/

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