.. I dunno, shaking, almost. Vibrating slightly, like she was waging an internal war with herself. Finally, one side won, and she answered in her fami...iar monotone.“I play with myself.”Without even meaning to, I threw one arm up in celebration. All my hours of planning, of running through scenarios, of planting dreams ... it was all coming together. My sister had gone from being disgusted by the very notion of incest to actually playing with herself in front of me (hypothetically, of course). She tasted sweet, jasmine tea with just a bit of honey. We only broke away when the doors started to open. She led me across the tile floor to the only apartment door on the floor, fumbled a little with her keys, and let me into the entry foyer. She hung my cardigan beside her blazer in the hall closet. We turned away from the studio and into the kitchen, where she wordlessly busied herself making tea, rinsing raspberries, readying a tray. Taking it, she led me to a lovely small bedroom off. More

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