I throw my legs over the edge of the bed Christmas morning. As soon as my feet hit the floor my bedroom door opens. Standing in the doorway, naked, is my sister Brooke with a bow tied around her hard cock.
"Merry Christmas Jerry," she says rushing up to me.
It was a very pleasant date, all in all. She was lovely and funny, and the curves beneath her dress made me very aware of the hopeful bulge in my jeans. She seemed shy, though, and I did not feel quite ready for 'the talk' just yet. Still, when she insisted I come in for a while, I humored her. That was my first mistake.
My second was accepting the drink.
The small car's engine roared as it trundled down the city street, cars passing to either side, most honking. There was the occasional middle finger thrown as well, as if for good measure. The noise coming from under the hood would have been fine, even welcomed, had this particular vehicle not been electric. It should have been whisper quiet, unlike the petroleum-fueled pollution machines that had preceded it. But the last gasoline car had been scrap for at least fifty years.