To whoever asked for the sisters to get theirs (I didn't check the reviews for your name before uploading, sorry), you'll be happy to know that they do.

This is not good, this is not good, this is not good.

All day those same four words looped through Lincoln's mind like some kind of damaged, antiquated media...like a broken record, okay? It was good that Lynn liked him (or he thought she liked him), but it wasn't good that all his sisters knew. What if one of them snitched? He could see Lola now, Daddy...Lynn and Lincoln have the hots for each other. You might wanna get on that.

He wouldn't put it past the little bitch. Man, what do they do when you're...you know...into...your sister? Decades of therapy? The guillotine? Gasp...oh, God, what if it was something even worse...like another one of Dad's awkward sex talks? Lincoln shivered from head-to-toe, vaguely aware that he looked like Elaine from Seinfeld trying to dance and not caring. Let the kids in the hall look...he was in the middle of a crisis here. He couldn't survive another forty-five minutes of Dad making obscene hand gestures, stuttering, and blushing every time he had to say "penis" and "vagina." He'd rather just go to therapy.

As long as Lynn went with him.

A hazy smile touched his lips and his eyes took on a dreamy, faraway look. They could hold hands as the doctor scolded them, and if there was only one chair she could sit in his lap...

He started to stir, and bent over to hide his growing erection. God, he was a perv. But, hey, so was Lynn...they could be pervs together. Oh, Lincoln liked that thought...he liked it a lot. Maybe...

"Hey, Loud!" a taunting voice called from behind him. "Why are you walking funny? Did your Dad molest you all night again?"

And there he was, Poppa Wheelie, all eight-hundred-fucking pounds of him. Lincoln was friends with Poppa the way the other kids in South Park were friends with Cartman: He tolerated his constant bullshit because every once in a while, he could be a pretty cool dude...about as often as Haley's Comet came around.

"Fuck you," Lincoln tossed over his shoulder.

"Or was it one of your tranny sisters?"

Kids were pointing and laughing now. The fuck did he just say? Lincoln turned, and Poppa was there, his gut busting out of a black DC t-shirt, his hands on his gelatinous hips and his cheeks rosy with malice. He looked like Jabba the Hutt, if Jabba the Hutt gained a bunch of weight and lost his looks.

Poppa's eyes gleamed and his evil smile widened. "I bet it was Lynn. She looks like she has a dick."

Lincoln was no an impulsive boy, but you don't talk smack about a girl a guy likes, know what I mean? He didn't realize he was striking until his fist was crashing into one of Poppa's many chins. Poppa cried out and fell to his ass. Everyone stopped laughing and started moving slowly away, because when a geek snaps, it usually means candlelight vigils and gun control debates in Congress.

Instead of opening a can of Klebold, Lincoln simply stood over the now blubbering behemoth, his fists clenched and his chest heaving. "You don't talk shit about my sister, bitch," he growled.

"I'm sorry!" Poppa sobbed, "please don't hit me again!"

Satisfied that he'd learned his lesson, Lincoln turned, and bumped into Principal Riley, a tall, stern-faced man with icy blue eyes and a graying crewcut. His hands were on his hips and his face was dark.

Oh, shit.

"Feeling your oats today, huh, Loud?"

"Uh, I..."

Principal Riley grabbed him by the arm and dragged him down the hall, throwing a disgusted glance at Poppa, who sat on the floor and wept into his hands. "Jesus. Man up, kid."

When they reached his office, Principal Riley flung Lincoln into a chair in front of his desk, sat down, and glared at him over tented fingers. "I'm conflicted, Loud. Part of me wants to throw you under the bus for punching people in my hallway, and another part wants to shake your hand: That kid is so goddamn annoying I hear him in my sleep sometimes."

He had a chance to get out of this! "Look, Principal Riley, he was talking trash about my sister. You have a sister, don't you?"

"Yes," Principal Riley said, and Lincoln's hope soared. "I hate her guts."

Whistle. Boom. Those are the sounds Lincoln's hopes and dreams made as they crashed back to earth.

"Well...my family's really close, so, uh, it's like he was talking smack about my grandma. You know?"

"You don't talk smack about a man's grandmother," Principal Riley said with a curt nod. "I've knocked people out for talking bad about my nana."

"Right?"

Principal Riley sighed. "Alright, Loud, I'll let you go with a warning. If that fat bastard gives you anymore problems, take it to the teacher...I've been looking for an excuse to expel that son of a bitch anyway. Ahhhh, imagine the peace."

So that's how Lincoln got away with punching Poppa Wheelie in his fat, stupid face. Every time Lincoln saw him the rest of that day, Poppa would cringe and hold his hands up defensively. Serves you right, you corpulent piece of shit. How fucking dare you talk about Lynn that way? Lynn looked nothing like a dude. And Lincoln imagined she was certainly not packing a schlong between her legs. Hmmm, what did she have, though? He conjured up a picture in his head, and shivered with delight. It was pink and slick and...oh, look, a raging erection and class ends in five minutes. Beautiful. Just what my day needed.

He tried not to imagine sinking his hard-on into his sister, but, you know, shit happens and he did. When the bell rang, he grabbed his textbook, held it in front of his crotch, and hunched over like a little old man. He passed Poppa, who glanced fearfully up.

"You got something to say this time?" Lincoln asked.

Poppa paled and held his hands up. "N-N-No, sir."

"That's what I thought."

This is not good, this is not good. He had an unashamed boner over his sister and all of his other sisters knew how he felt. You know...Lola might only be six, but if she ran her mouth, Lincoln would knock her out...widen that gap in her teeth a little.

Not good, not good, not good...

Lynn Loud pressed her hands to her crotch and crossed her legs. She was super horny. Every time she let her guard down, the dream came back to her, only this time around she knew exactly who was touching and kissing her from behind...hint: He had white hair, freckles, and lived, like, two doors away from her bedroom.

The hot pressure between her legs was manageable. You're horny for your brother, alright. While that's not normal, it's carnal, ya know. What really bothered her was the fluttery feeling in her stomach and the achiness in her chest. Being hot for your brother was one thing, but, like, being in love with him?

Oh well. She was and that was that. Now...how to find out if he really felt the same. She could go with the classic 'grab his balls and see what he does' approach; if he didn't seem into it, just squeeze the shit out of them and laugh like that's what you were going to do all along. Hmmm, nah. She couldn't do that to him even if he wasn't into her. At the end of the day he was still her brother and she still loved him as such; she could be kind of mean to him sometimes, but hurting his balls on purpose? Maybe if he really made her mad she could kick him there, but that'd be a spur-of-the-moment type of thing that she would instantly regret.

What else could she do? Flash him? Ooooh, that might work. Get totally naked and wrap a towel around her body. Hey, Linc, c'mere, I need your help. Then when he showed, an accident would happen, the towel would fall, and she would be totally and utterly exposed. Whoops. Heh. Like what you see? And if he did, he could come to her and kiss her and touch her and...

...she squeezed her legs. If she didn't knock it off she'd have a big wet patch on the front of her shorts, and everyone would either think she pissed herself...or they'd know exactly what it was and think she was some kind of sex pervert.

Alright. Think about the game. The game, the game, the game. Balls, sweating, getting tackled, Lincoln thrusting into her...ahhhhhh! No! That has nothing to do with football! She shook her head. Okay. What about that test she had coming up? History or some shit? She was so going to flunk it. Then again...maybe if she focused really hard, she could scrape by; if Lincoln played with her hair, she could focus all day long!

Hot moisture spread between her legs. No!

The bell rang, startling her, and she was up like a shot, streaking through the hall and rushing to the bathroom. In one of the stalls, she locked the door, yanked her shorts down, and grabbed some toilet paper. She wiped, and oh yeah, she was wet.

One more class...one more class then she could go home and hopefully do something with her brother.

One more class.

And it was the longest class ever. She sat with her chin in her palm and thought of Lincoln, to hell with the teacher. Ummmm...the way he filled those little undies of his. She wanted to touch his bulge through them badly, just lay him down and take her time touching, stroking, caressing, brushing, and rubbing until his head leaked and he was as wet as she was. Then she'd strip them off, climb on top of him, and bring herself slowly down, her lips slipping around his head, his head pushing into her, parting her...

Throwing a quick glance around the room, she took a wad of toilet paper from her pocket, shoved her hand down the front of her shorts, and wiped. It came back almost dripping. Gross. But kind of interesting, too. She held the tissue up and studied it. Is this what Lincoln's nut looked like? Well...she knew it wasn't exactly...but was it close? She'd very much like to see it...on her hand, her stomach, her breasts, all over...she wanted to be covered in his hot cum and...

I sound like a fucking slut.

But don't we all when we're horny?

When the final bell rang, Lynn leapt out of her seat, shoved some skank with blue hair, Buddy Holly glasses, and a nose ring out of the way and burst out into the hall, sliding sideways before pounding toward the door. Here I come, Linc. Prepare your penis!

"Violence is never the answer, buddy," Clyde said. He and Lincoln were walking home; Lincoln's head was thrown back and a scowl played across his lips. For the last ten minutes Clyde had been preaching to him about nonviolence and pacifism and shit. It was getting on Lincoln's nerves. "You should have told a teacher."

Lincoln glanced at his friend and seriously considered punching him; it'd shut him up, guaranteed. He couldn't do that, though. Clyde got on his nerves sometimes, but he was a cool dude overall, and Lincoln kind of wanted to stay friends with him.

"Yep," Lincoln said.

"Gandhi said..."

Lincoln tuned him out as they turned onto Franklin Avenue. When they reached his house, he slapped Clyde on the back, "Gotta blast, sorry, dude, later," and rushed away. In the living room, he took his backpack off and hung it up. Lori and Leni looked up from the couch, their features flattening in an identical expression of half-lidded mischief. "Hey, Lincy," Lori cooed.

"Lynn's here," Leni grinned.

"Yeah?" Lincoln asked, trying to play it cool and pretend that his heartbeat didn't just speed up. "She lives here, so..."

He started up the stairs.

"Go to her, Lincy," Lori said.

"Make her a woman," Leni snickered.

"Pop her cherry."

"Lose your virginity to your sister."

"Pull out and paint your name on her stomach with jizz."

Lincoln's face was beet red, but...that really wasn't such a bad idea. At the head of the stairs, he glanced toward Lynn's room and thought of going in...you know...to say hi...but went into his instead. He closed his door and started for the bed, but something crashed into him and knocked him to the floor.

Poppa Wheelie's back for more.

Summoning all his strength, Lincoln bucked his attacker off his back with a cry of fury and jumped to his knees; an arm wrapped around his throat from behind. "Motherfucker!" Lincoln growled as his air supply was cut off. He reached his arms back and grabbed two handfuls of thick, soft hair.

Uh...Poppa?

Lincoln yanked, and Lynn cried out, her grip releasing. Acting fast, Lincoln rammed his elbow back and caught her in the stomach. The air rushed out of her in an "Oof" and she fell back against the floor. Lincoln spun and mounted her, his heart crashing and his breathing short. "You bitch," he spat. She sneered and cocked her fist, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the floor. She glared at him with dark eyes.

...Now what?

An idea came to him, and he grinned. "So...I hear you like me."

A flicker of light danced through her eyes. "You're a bitch," she breathed.

He tightened his grip on her wrists and leaned in. He was getting hard and he didn't care. "You have a crush on me, don't you?"

The tips of their noses were almost touching; their hot breaths mingled. "Fuck you," she panted.

He shifted his hips, and his bulge rubbed against her crotch. Her brow twitched and Lincoln smiled. "You liked that."

"You're a pervert. I'm gonna tell Dad."

She wasn't trying to push him away, which told Lincoln that that was a lie. He slid himself against her again, and her breath caught. "Come on, Lynn," he said, "admit you like me. I mean...I am pretty great."

She spat in his face.

He laughed. "You're a bad girl, Lynn," he said, and rubbed against her again. She uttered a breathy moan and her eyelids fluttered. He hovered his face above hers. "But that's okay...I like bad girls." He pressed his lips against hers, and thrilled when she jammed her tongue excitedly into his mouth, swirling it around his and licking the roof of his mouth. He kissed her back, her sweet taste filling him and making him lightheaded. He held her wrists tighter as he prodded deeper, their tongues wrestling for dominance. Lincoln was flooded with adrenaline, his balls heavy and his rod throbbing hotly against her crotch, her heat radiating through layers of clothes. He was not about to let her win.

She moaned into his mouth and lifted her hips. Lincoln pulled away from her lips and kissed each one of the freckles on her left cheek. She purred happily, and he released her wrists, plunging his hands into her hair. It was so much softer, and warmer, than it looked, like silk. She ran her hands up and down his back, her breath puffing out in short, hot gasps. His heart pounded against hers and her heart pounded against his. Where one stopped and another began was anyone's guess.

Her hands worried at his waistband. He pulled back and drew himself to his knees. She propped herself up on her elbows and took deep, heaving breaths. Her face was a lovely shade of red. For a moment, they only looked at each other.

Then Lincoln unzipped his jeans, and Lynn grinned. "Race ya," she said, and hooked her thumbs into her shorts. Lincoln yanked his pants and underwear down, his dick springing out and pointing possessively at Lynn. Her eyes widened, and she froze, her shorts and underwear halfway down her thighs.

"You alright?" he asked apprehensively.

She looked from it to his face and then back again. "That's the hottest thing I've ever seen," she said.

Lincoln pulled his pants entirely off, then his briefs. Lynn shook her head, then stripped until she was wearing only her jersey and her socks. Lincoln started for her, but she surprised him by springing and tackling him to the floor, her arms wrapping around his neck and her lips smooshing against his. She straddled him, and his tip pressed against her scorching center. He let out a strangled cry as her wet heat touched him. It felt so good it hurt...or hurt so bad it felt good...he wasn't exactly in the frame of mind to tell the difference.

She laid her hands on his chest and looked down at him with a smirk. "I do have a crush on you," she said, and brought herself down: His head penetrated her, and he hissed at the intense sensation of her slick walls tightening around him. "I-I have it bad." She threw her head back and lowered herself even more, his shaft sinking slowly and maddeningly into her well. "You are pretty great."

She jerked down, and his entire length filled her. He cried out and his hands flew to her hips. She moaned and rocked against him. Oh, fuck. Lincoln never imagined it would feel this good. He was close and he'd barely done anything.

"Lincoln..." she moaned. She bent and flattened her chest against his, her nose touching his and her eyes staring into his eyes. She thrusted, taking him deep. Her eyelids narrowed and she looked away, her breathing suddenly very ragged. His hands crept up from her hips until they were cupping her cheeks. He could feel his orgasm starting to rise and tried to fight it back.

Lynn bit her lower lip and thrusted faster, her hips pumping furiously. "Shit..." she panted, "I'm close."

Oh, thank God; she was a minute man too. He stopped fighting and let himself go, pressing his hands against her butt and holding her as close as he could as he shot into her. She moaned and trembled as her own orgasm welled up and overtook her.

Afterwards, she lay with her face in the crook of his neck, panting and trying to decide if she should be pleased with herself...or ashamed. The way her brother's hot seed coted her walls felt so incredibly good, and that's what decided her. She pushed herself up and looked down at him.

"Ready for round two?"

Lincoln grinned. "You're on, Loud."

Lori sighed. "Lana, you smell."

All of the Loud girls were clustered on the couch, save for Lynn; everyone knew where she was and what she was doing, but no one dared bring it up.

"Fuck you," Lana said.

"It's her rotten pussy," Lola said. "She never washes."

"You're one to talk," Luan said. "Every time you come home from a pageant I can smell the cum between your legs. Do you fuck all the judges, or just enough to win?"

Lola crossed her arms. "At least I can get laid, chainsaw mouth."

Luan's face darkened. "Fuck you."

Luna laughed. "Luan hopes and prays every time she goes to a party that someone drugs and rapes her, but they never do."

"Luan's, like, going to be a virgin forever," Leni said.

"Unless she pays for it," Lucy added.

Luan's face was getting red.

"Her hymen will remain always intact," Lisa said.

Luan exploded. "I'm gonna go fuck some guy just to prove to you bitches I can. I'll fuck a whole truckload of guys. I'll let them cover me in cum and then you'll all eat your fucking words."

Everyone laughed. "Luan's a slut!" Lori said.

"She likes anal!" Leni said.

"You're a disgusting whore," Lisa said.

"Tramp," Lola said.

"Bitch," Lana said.

Luan opened her mouth, but a loud gasp stopped her. Everyone turned to see Mom and Dad standing on the stairs. Uh-oh.

"I can not believe what I'm hearing!" Mom yelled.

"Girls," Dad put in, "you're all grounded for the rest of the month!"

"No!" Lori cried.

"Damn," Luna sighed.

Lola huffed.

Luan bowed her head in shame.

Payback's a bitch, isn't it?