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Her face held no emotion but that of complete supplication. She was panting slightly ... I could see her nipples tenting her pink blouse.I shook free of my disturbing thoughts, and found my voice."Sarah..." I said. "Sarah, get up. You're not thinking clearly ... Come on, I know it's still early but I'm sure we're both tired. Let's get you to bed." I watched Sarah's face slowly turn crimson.She was on her feet so fast I couldn't see her move."What the FUCK have you done to ME?" She screamed at the top of her voice.I was glad we were in the basement; otherwise the neighbors call the cops for a domestic dispute. Sarah seemed to go from embarrassment to anger rather quickly."Don't you think that for a second you should read anything into that little ... that little ... EPISODE!" She yelled. Her hair was messy, and her eyes were livid, even though they were filled with moisture.I simply nodded dumbly.Sarah took a deep breath. She still looked me suspiciously, as if daring me to comment on. That might have been one of the few times I saw her smile without reservation. "I know you do," she said. * * * That was the year my dad had his first heart attack. Steph and I had been seeing each other, on and off, for a few months; it wasn't exclusive but it was a little more serious than non-exclusive. Still, those months seemed to vanish like smoke when my sister met me outside the hospital and threw herself into my arms. Our lips met in a hot, wet kiss and we stayed like that much longer than was decent. I wiped her eyes and helped clean the mascara off her cheeks. We kissed again (and when she jumped up against me I cupped her round ass) and then separated, lacing our hands together as we entered the hospital. My mother was inside with my dad, who, even in his hospital bed and gown, thought we were all being way too serious about this. We sat around and talked as long as the nurses thought proper, and then they shooed us out, telling us he needed meds and rest. My mother was.
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