Patrick decided he didn’t really need a glass and moped into the living room with the bottle. He turned on the TV, watched 11 commercials for Motrin, turned off the TV and took a long pull on the bottle. He listened for the sound. The sound had stopped. That made him nervous. Now he was agog with waiting for the sound. It’s only when the Chinese water torture drops stop dropping that the senses reach their most hyperalert state, begging . . . yearning . . . for just one more drop. He got up, moved to the stereo, picked up TB Sheets, by Van Morrison and placed it on the deck. Just as he was about to press . . . the sound came again. Patrick went back to his chair and took a slightly longer pull from the bottle. The vodka was oily from its arctic incarceration and send a shooting pain down his neck. he leaned back and said to no one in particular, ‘FUUCCKKK’, and then listened to the sound for another 10 minutes. By this time the bottle was down well below the shoulders. But his. “See? You have no idea what you've been missing out on.” “Dani, this is so fucked up, I don't even want to think about it.” “Your boner hasn't gone away, Jared,” she smirked. “What's it going to take?” Slowly, she started to remove her tank top. “Dani... please... don't...” I said. But I could've closed my eyes, and I didn't. Despite the objections in my mind, my body was in control. She finished pulling her tank top off, revealing her pale but thin and sexy upper body. “Want to help me with this bra?” she asked, smiling. “Uhhh...” “Come on, big brother.” I sighed, walking behind my sister. I inhaled her strong perfume. Any other day I would have said that she wore too much, that she smelled terrible, and so on. But today it was alluring, seductive. I had a hard time concentrating as I undid her bra. The fact that I had never done this in my life didn't help, either. But after what seemed like an eternity, it was done. She turned around and faced me. Her breasts were firm and large..
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