Fucking My Sister’s Best Friend

Molly was the devil. Period.

She’s a vicious little Satan that existed in this world only to torment me. I felt like if there’s a God up there, Molly was the personification of God’s-Fucking-Me-Over-in-The-Asshole-with-a-Studded-Dildo.

Not only was she my little sister’s best friend, which means she was constantly here in our house, she’s also unfairly gorgeous. I mean, how often do you see a red head with round blue eyes that shine brighter than any stars throughout the cosmos and a body that attracts men like UV light attracts flies. And that analogy was quite fitting for describing her because every time some guy got close to her, he was singed into a crisp with the constant barrage of negative criticisms. And as ill-fortune seemed to hang around me, I was one of those guys. The only difference was that I was trapped, kind of like how a fly gets trapped in the wire net by their own melted limbs and eventually gets fried until it literally turned into ash. The only way to I could avoid turning into a pile of carbonaceous dust was to ignore her, pretending that she’s invisible in my eyes.

Ironically, I was constantly being reminded of her exquisite beauty all the time. If I could forget her, I would. But I couldn’t. At almost every weekend, she came to my house and had dinner with my family. My attempts to forget her, as well as the harsh comments she had said to me over the time, was constantly shattered by the periodic visitation. Though I was not proud of it, I did masturbate to her, like all the time. Her round symmetrical face opposite of the dining table, with her mouth opening and closing as she chewed, was better than any porn that I’d ever seen in my life.

Of course, my parents loved her and treated her like their daughter. My sister, who obviously knew about my distaste(and admiration, which I don’t like to admit) for her, once coyly suggested that we two should get marry some years later to truly make her a part of our family. In front of my parents, Molly only smiled demurely at the insipid suggestion. In the confines of their little haven, aka, my sister’s room, the rather thin walls between my sister’s room and mine spared me no mercy at the disgust and hatred she had for me that very night.

“Seriously, Jess. I would rather sleep with a dirty old beggar than with your brother.” my cock twitched in shame at the comment. “I mean, look at him. He’s such a nerd I have to stop myself from cringing every time I see him.”

“He’s not that bad.” my sister said and I found my hopes being lifted.

“Look at his clothes. It’s like he’s wearing something from the seventies. It’s lame.” Molly exasperated. I tugged on my t-shirt and looked at the close-up picture of Bryan Adams face. What could be wrong with it?

“He likes oldies.” my sister remarked and I couldn’t have agreed with her more. I preferred old music over the new ones because old music sounded real. Like the singers actually put effort into making the song. Contemporary songs, on the other hand, sounded like someone simply plugged in words into a ready-made template of chords, matched it up with some HD footage of a scenic backdrop with the singer emotionally singing in it, and called them originals.

“But seriously, can’t he just wear something from this century.” I heard the bed frame squeaked and the image of Molly molding her round ass onto the soft mattress formed inside my head. Admittedly, I was dirty minded, mind you.

“I’m kind of okay with it though.” a second squeak reverberated through the walls. “I don’t understand why you always get your panties in a bunch in front of my brother. It’s not like he wears it to piss you off.” my sister sounded like she was teasing Molly.

“I just…I just don’t like it.” Molly said softly. I had to press my ears on the wall to even be able to listen to what she said. Yes, I was eavesdropping. Bite me!

“Why does it matter if you like it or not? The only thing that matters is that he likes it.” my sister remarked teasingly. Her question had my interest piqued. It’s a question that I had never thought of asking myself before. Why does she hate me so much?

“I didn’t say it matters to me.” Molly retorted and I could almost hear her blushing, if that’s even possible.

“Is that so?” my sister giggled. “I think the reason you hate him is because he’s ignoring you.”

“That is so not true.” Molly denied with a voice a pitch too high. “Stop laughing. That’s not true.” I could hear her slap my sister’s shoulder. Interesting. I felt my stomach rolled in my stomach at the revelation. My cock lifted his sorry head in with new found hope.

“Shhh…keep it down. He might be able to hear you.” my sister warned.

“He can?” Molly snapped nervously. “Why didn’t you tell me early?” she reduced her volume to a light whisper. Still, I could still make out what she said. “What if he heard all of those?”

“Why does it matter? It’s not like you’ve declared your undying love for my brother.”

“Shut up!” Molly hissed and my sister burst into laughter.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. Each time I closed my eyes, the image of Molly’s bright blue eyes appeared in front of me. Her face was pleading, her mouth partially opened, and her warm breath caressed my lips. I’d tried countless of time to wash out the image of her beautiful face from my head but each attempt only met with ‘stiffer’ resistance. Yes, pun intended.

There’s no way Molly, a girl that a guy would kill for, had a crush on me. That’s impossible. That’s just not Molly, the devious little devil that had me locked in a little hell of my own. Molly didn’t do nerd like me, that’s painfully obvious. She’s the kind of girl that would only date quarterbacks, not Java-loving, C#-obsessed, weak and pathetic nerd like me.

“Fuck!” I shot up from my bed. I needed a wash on my face lest I wouldn’t be able to purge out the distracting, gorgeous, face of my nemesis.

When I got to the bathroom door, I noticed the light coming from the gap below. Some shuffling sound permeated from behind the door. Someone must be inside. Not wanting to go back to my bed, I leaned over the banister and waited for whomever was inside the bathroom to finish.

Then my head was beginning to fuck with me. Molly’s velvety moan cut through the silence of the night.