A tear rolled over her cheek. He pulled her into his embrace, wanting to comfort her. She clutched at him, but into his ear she whispered, ‘Please, Lyle. Please. Fuck me.’ Hearing that word from his s****r’s innocent mouth sent shockwaves through him. His cock surged. Eagerly now, he pushed up her skirt and reached under it. She rocked side to side as he wiggled her panties over each cheek of her little ass. The problem came when he tried to get them lower. Her legs were spread and he couldn’t get them down. Lyle was consumed by desire at that point. He had to have her. Had to have this luscious object of fantasies so secret even he hadn’t known he had them. ‘Lacy,’ he said, speaking her name as though it were the key to paradise. She looked up, into his eyes. ‘Lyle,’ she whispered. The plane shook, a vibration ran through it like a broken church organ, but they didn’t hear it. They had become a world unto themselves, and they kept their eyes locked together as he put his hands under. I assumed it was an accident, but I should’ve known that Liesel always did everything on purpose. She opened the door in her underwear — a plain white bra, and even plainer white panties — chewing on an apple core. She asked me what I wanted. What I wanted was to be anywhere but there, anywhere but in Liesel’s doorway watching her gnaw the last bits of sweet flesh off of that core in her underwear, but she didn’t give me that option. I tried to hold out the sweater, to tell her she left it at my apartment, but she just took my wrist and pulled me in and shut the door behind me and asked me another question. Later, people said I should’ve saw it coming. But with Liesel, I could never tell. She had the craziest ideas. It always took me a few minutes longer to catch up to her than to anyone else. That was why I didn’t answer when she asked me if I’d ever been with a woman. I was trying to process (therapist should like that one) what she’d just said, and maybe that’s why I found myself.
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