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Friday, November 12, 2010

Ch 4: The Everlasting Arms

 “Are you doing drugs? Seriously, I mean. You’re acting completely unlike yourself.”
I felt surprised, now; unsettledly surprised. What could I say, that this was all a dream, and I was really her brother, except not really, because I didn’t have a sister, since she didn’t exist?
“Quit scheming, JoJo; tell me the truth.”
«You can’t handle the truth » I automatically thought, remembering the iconic Tom Cruise movie with Jack Nicholson in it. ‘A Few Good Men’—sorry, no men here at all; get back to me when I wake up…and you’re just a fading memory. I shivered slightly; having my arms trapped, and L.L.’s heavy damned boobs sitting on my chest was not the most fun position I’ve even been in, but it was a whole lot nicer than reality, where she didn’t even exist. And how do you explain that to someone, when it sure feels like she’s pinning your arms to her chest? «You want answers? Well, you and me both. I’ll tell you what I know, at least what I think we both can stand. Maybe not the whole truth, but I’ll give you the rest of it…» I took a deep breath, wiggling a little bit, because of those heavy, all-natural, ridiculously large and well-formed breasts…yeah, JoJo’s not just jealous because of that butt, I see, even if L.L. works hard for that body…I gave a short sigh, and answered as truthfully as I thought I could.
“Truthfully, L.L., I’m not taking any drugs, except maybe Depo, and the occasional Sudafed. I don’t have any nitrous tanks stashed under my bed «…I hope; that’d be kind of funny if there were laughing gas under my bed… Funny – laughing gas. I smirked a little at that. I’m starting to think that I ought to be enjoying these boobs on me, sister or not, a lot more than how I’m not, right now. I’d never given a thought to how humiliating it felt to be weighed down with another girl’s breasts, why would I? When would this situation ever happen in real life—never, that’s when! I am so much her bitch right now…why aren’t I motorboating on these dumb things? Besides, of course, because she’s my sister, and here-and-now, I’m her sister, too.» “…and right now, your heavy boobs are making me crazy, could you get those things off of me?”
“’Making you crazy?’ What, you can’t blame being crazy on my boobs, you’ve been crazy my whole life.”
“Sure I can—see, it started with you, and now it’s concentrated in your breasts. Your ridiculously perky-for-their-size breasts! I’m jealous of them, a lot, okay? And frankly, your chest can support them a lot better–“ I gave a little hop for emphasis “– than mine!”
L.L. was staring intensely at me, as if trying to see inside my brain. «God, they really are making me crazy, and not in a ‘hubba-hubba’ way. Part of me wonders if being my sister is enough to suppress that kind of natural response; part of me wonders if it is just because we’re both girls. Well, there’s not much of that reaction to suppress, since apparently even here, everyone around has giant boobs, but me, so they’re not that much of a big deal... except when they’re being used like sand bags to weigh me down…» “Um, would you please let me up from being tackled by the ‘Bobsey Twins’?”
Apparently, that familiar name Mom liked to use for her breasts was enough to convince L.L. that I was acting weird, but wasn’t going to be a danger to anyone. She leaned back a little and let “Frick and Frack” drop back onto her sturdier frame. She still had my arms trapped, though. I sighed in relief, a great weight having been –literally– taken off of my chest. I think they were making me feel claustrophobic. «Remember that feeling, JoJo’s body; get over feeling jealous of those things, because L.L. is just the woman to carry those things around.» Noticing that “the talk” didn’t seem to be over yet, I exploited our closeness, and leaned forward, until my head was touching her shoulder. That it kept her from pinning me down with her breasts again was just an added advantage…at least, I was going to pretend that my reasons were ranked in that order, and not the reverse, nope, not the reverse at all. “Thank you. So, what else do you need from me; you’re in charge, L.L. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I just want to know why you’re being so friendly to me all of a sudden. Why are you apologizing for acting like you’ve always done, and trying to be all buddy-buddy?”
“I don’t know why now, instead of earlier, but I can do it now rather than later. As to why at all…well, you’re my sister, and I love you. I guess I’ve been a real bitch to you over the years, and I’m really sorry. I just don’t want us not to be close anymore. I want us to be real si…sisters.” «Ooh, I almost said “siblings”, but we’re not brother-and-sister; she has a brother. I’ll have to be her “sister”, and be as good, or better, at it than she is to me. » “I want to be a good sister, and be good to you, and you to me. I don’t ever want to see you crying, except because you’re so happy, and you can’t stop laughing. But of course, if you are, then I want to give you the first hug.”
L.L. stared at me like I’d said I’d converted to Mormonism. “That’s the dumbest, sappiest load of crap I’ve ever heard!”
«Holy …what?!?» I stood there and stared, my mouth wide open…then we both cracked up at once. «How ironic; my… or rather, our, parents were born and raised in the South, while I was born in the Midwest and grew up here in the West. One of the subtle ways that, and the generation gap, shows up, is that my tolerance for “naughty” language was not just more than…our parents liked, but more than my…our cousins back East. B-4 and L.L. were born and raised out here, so they probably have as much fun shocking me with their language, as I do shocking Mom and Dad. Family; they’ll make you laugh, they’ll make you cry, they’ll make you want to break things…usually one of them. One more thing: they should make you glad to be around, and glad to have around. Dream or not, for this bit of family, I am very glad to be and have around.»

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