In his room, Lincoln paced back and forth like a convict in a cell, his hands on his hips and his head slightly bowed; his face was ashen and drawn, his eyes pooled with anxiety and his lips a white, bloodless slash. His stride was quick and heedless, six paces from the desk to the door - the walls were starting to close in and the jail cell analogy became more and more apt until he was panting and shaking, the claustrophobic feeling of being trapped gripping him in steely talons. He raked a hand through his hair and took a deep breath that did little to dispel the pressure in his chest. He reached the door, spun, staked to the bed, then turned again. Bun-Bun watched silently from his perch on the dresser, and was it Lincoln's imagination or did the stuffed rabbit look like it was judging him? You're a real piece of work, Linc, you know that? Lusting after your own sister, man...that's gross.

Sigh. I know it is. It's disgusting and unnatural and it makes me feel dirty, like every fiber of my being is coated in a slick layer of grime.

And the worst part is…

...it's not just lust.

Looking at her body would be one thing, but it's not just her body, it's everything about her - her sweet disposition, her laugh, her tenderness, her affection, her eyes, the way she talks, her innocence. All of those things make me feel like Jell-O, and when I look at her, I don't just think about...you know...dirty stuff, I think about boyfriend-girlfriend stuff: Holding her hand, running his fingers through her hair, snuggling with her, eating ice cream cones and laughing because she got some on the tip of her nose and it was silly and cute. That's really messed up, at least as far as he was concerned. Doing something with your sister...I mean, he could see that, you know? People get aroused and they don't think clearly - one thing leads to another and you're having sex with your sister, your mind screaming at you to stop but your body urging you forward, animal passion winning out over moral (and logical) reasoning. But holding her and kissing the back of her neck after the fire? Waking up the next morning, laying your hand on her cheek, and gazing into her crystal blue eyes, kissing her lips...seeking to reignite the fire?

That's a little over the line.

And if he was honest...he could see himself doing all of those things with Leni.

Door, desk, door, desk, an endless circuit, his pace getting faster as his mind worked. Alright, Linc, you're attracted to your sister and possibly in love with her; good one, real nice. You can't tell her - Jesus God, you can never tell her. Or anyone else, for that matter. Clyde, maybe - he lives in a glass house so what's he gonna do, throw stones? Maybe. Being obsessed with a girl who doesn't want you is creepy, but in a normal way at least; being obsessed with your very own sister is creepy in the worst freaking way possible - like sweaty, smelly, leering and breathing heavy creepy, advanced level creepy. Clyde would probably back away slowly...at best, and puke on him at worst. Maybe not, though. He has two dads, so maybe he's a little more tolerant. He sure as shit couldn't tell his parents, or his sisters. He couldn't say a word; he couldn't write about it in a journal; he couldn't act differently around Leni...God, they're all females and they can probably tell when a boy likes a girl just by sniffing the air.

Alright, lockdown mode. You think Area 51 is top secret? You ain't seen nothing yet. I shouldn't even think about it; God knows Lisa probably has a Mindreader6000 or something hanging around, and Lucy reads tarot cards - she can probably feel the atmosphere or some other new age bs thing.

Okay, okay, okay.

Stop thinking about her.

He cleared his mind, reached the door, and turned.

Then he thought about her.

Ahhh! Stop it, Linc! If you keep it up you're gonna slip, and if you slp...he stopped, his stomach turning violently like a tilt-a-whirl. Touch her body 'by accident.' That's what he thought, wasn't it? He imagined actually doing it...and he didn't know whether to cum or puke. God, if he did that, he'd be the biggest scumbag on the face of the earth...taking advantage of poor, sweet Leni like that. She probably wouldn't even know he was doing it; she'd think he was being extra loving and affectionate or something, when in fact he was being a giant fucking pervert.

No, he couldn't bring himself to do that, but, man, what if he kept feeling this way? What if he loved her day in and day out, seeing her every moment, hearing her voice, smelling her perfume, damned to be always in the presence of the girl he loved but never to have her? You'd think that after a while that'd drive a man crazy...and when someone's crazy they act rashly. He could see himself breaking, going to her, and confessing his feelings, his mind so clouded that he was able to rationalize it. Worth a shot even if there's a 0.000000000001 percent chance. And what would she think? Imagine your little brother (or sister) falling on their knees in front of you and proclaiming their undying love. You'd be creeped out, grossed out, taken aback...other synonyms for deeply disturbed...and you'd always look at them differently, always be guarded, always wonder and second guess and he did not want that.

Then again, maybe he was overthinking this; he was acting as though he'd been madly in love with her forever when, really, he only felt the first faint stirring that afternoon, at the park. He just needed some time, that's all, some time to work through this; he reached out and accidentally caught a stray feeling because he was subconsciously reminded of Carol o-or something, and in the morning, it'd be gone like a puff of smoke.

Yeah. Sleep on it. Good idea, Linc. I mean...you're just confused. You were thinking about Carol, then Leni came along and you got worried because she was hurt and your emotions just kinda...got crossed, like a train taking the wrong track at the switchyard. You're reading too much into it; go to bed, get you a full eight, then wake up and wonder what the hell you were thinking; feel a little shame, get over it, and go back to worrying about Carol.

He nodded to himself. Sounded like a plan. He glanced at the clock; it was barely 9pm, but after the mental taxation he'd suffered over the past few hours, he could easily turn in. He turned, went to the door, and stepped into the hall, avoiding the whoopie cushion without even realizing it. "Aw, man," Luan said from her spot behind a potted plant.

In the bathroom, he shut the door, locked it, then gripped the edges of the sink and stared at his reflection: His face was haggard and gray, and his eyes were dark. He looked sick.

Yeah, lovesick.

A shiver went down his spine. No, you're not; you're a mixed up kid and that's final, now get ready for bed.

Yes, sir.

He opened the medicine cabinet, took out a tube of toothpaste, and squeezed some onto his toothbrush; he stared at himself as he worked, one side of his mouth then the other; he could see Leni in his eyes, so heavy on his mind was she. He spat into the basin, grabbed the mouthwash, and gurgled, his gums tingling painfully. Gah, this stuff is awful. Maybe it'd be better if it was Scope or Listerine, but, like everything else in the house, it was a cheap off brand. Price you gotta pay in such a big family - especially when your mother's a dental assistant and your dad's a common cubicle jockey. Makes you wonder how they can afford anything: Neither position is highly paid, yet we have a big house, food enough for thirteen people, a vehicle, and more luxuries than we ought to.

Maybe Dad sells drugs on the side.

He chuckled sardonically at the image of Dad in sunglasses and a wife beater, his pants sagging below his hips and one hand thrown up in a gang sign. Royal Woods represent. That reminded him of a Dad joke he read online.

I bought a pair of shoes from a drug dealer...I don't know what he laced them with, but I've been tripping all day.

LOL. Get it?

I sound like Luan now.

He spat, rinsed the sink out, then splashed water on his face. Turning the faucet off, he looked at himself one last time - same old drawn expression, same old haunted eyes. Hi, kids, I'm Lincoln Loud and I'm sexually and romantically attracted to my older sister, Leni. Pretty fucked up, huh? Don't be like me; I was a normal kid until I tried incest, now I'm married to all ten of my sisters and have ten kids with each of them. My progeny could take over the town if you gave them rifles and extra ammo - my daughters (all ninety-nine of them) have their period at the same time, and my sole son's already gotten eight of them pregnant. If you're reading this message, kill me!

A wan smile touched his lips, and he turned away. A harem with all of his sisters...and kids. Ha! Talk about fucked up. Let me guess, I sleep with my daughters, too.

His smile turned into a pucker of disgust. Of all the terrible things that had ever crossed his mind, that was the worst.

Even more reason to hate myself, I guess.

In his room, he closed out the world, popped his shirt off, and tossed it into the dirty clothes hamper standing next to the dresser. Next, he pulled his pants down, let them pool around his feet, then stepped out of them and kicked them aside. In his underwear, he crossed to the bed and sat, glancing at the clock. 9:15. Maybe he'd read for a little while. He leaned over, opened the top drawer of the night stand, and pulled out an Ace Savvy comic. Ah, the old standby, always there when you needed to get your mind off your sweet and beautiful older sister and wanted to think of anything but her toned, young body.

Shut the fuck up, Lincoln.

Right.

He stretched out on the bed, kicked his leg over his knee, and opened it to the comic to the first page.

Ten minutes later, he was still there, reading and rereading the same passage again and again and failing to retain any of it; his mind wandered, and you can imagine to where. Leni. Leni, Leni, Leni. Poor, pure, innocent, naive, childlike Leni who would be absolutely appalled if she knew he looked at her like that.

Someone knocked on the door, and he jumped. Mr. Loud, it's the police. Incest is illegal in Michigan, and so is thinking about it. You're gonna have to come with us. He licked his lips. "Come in," he called. Realizing that whoever it was would see the sin in his eyes, he buried his face in the comic just as the hinges squeaked and someone slipped in, closing the door behind them, the click of the latch catching somehow ominous. He locked eyes with Ace Savvy and waited for her (had to be a her) to speak, but she didn't: The silence was deafening, and as the moments ticked past, the atmosphere grew heavy with dread. His heart started to race as he imagined Lisa glaring at him, her arms folded. Male sibling, I am aware of your unnatural desires in regards to Leni, and I am here to inform you that our parents, and the local authorities, have been duly notified. He swallowed hard and waited.

Nothing.

Finally he closed the comic book, looked up...and froze.

"Hi, Lincy," Leni purred.

Lincoln's jaw fell open with a clunk. His sister stood in the middle of the room, her hands on her cocked hips and her eyes narrowed to lustful slits. Lincoln's gaze slowly took her in, scanning up and down and his brain misfiring in confusion. Normally, she wore an aquamarine dress with white trim, but now, she was dressed in a blue button-up blouse, a plaid skirt, socks pulled up to her knees, and a blue headband. Her long blonde hair curved to one side near the bottom like a pointing finger.

She looked like Carol Pingrey.

Lincoln's mouth went dry and he tried to speak, but wound up gaping like a fish suffocating on a beach. She giggled and came over, her rounded hips swishing hypnotically back and forth; he could only watch as she planted one knee on the bed, her teeth grazing her lower lip and her blue eyes glinting with a dirty light he'd never seen in them before...never expected to see in them.

She swung her other knee onto the bed and loomed over him, the hem of her skirt brushing the blanket and her chest pushed out - Lincoln's heart stopped mid-beat when he realized he could see the dark patches of her nipples through the fabric.

He stirred, and finally his vocal cords unlocked. "L-Leni, what are you doing?"

She bent forward, her back arching; her face hovered inches from his, her smell filling his nose and her sweet breath breaking hotly against his lips. A wicked smile tugged at one corner of her mouth and her pupils dilated, putting Lincoln in mind of a shark who'd just caught the scent of blood. "I'm not Leni," she said and threw one leg over his; she laid her hands on his shoulders and shifted onto him, her knees on either side and the her humid, dizzying heat pooling in his lap, making his breathing catch, "I'm Carol." She moved in for the kill and pressed her wet, burning lips to his forehead, her fingers dancing up his neck to his face, sending sickly shivers racing through his body. "And I totes wanna be your girlfriend."

She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him above the left eye, then on the ridge of his cheek. Her breathing was coming faster as her excitement grew. Lincoln was paralyzed, his brain going haywire like a power plant in meltdown and his hands twitching uselessly at his sides. His dick strained against his underwear, and his heart blasted hard, fast, the thunder-like sound echoing through the chambers of his head. Suddenly, he was hot, his body on fire and his lungs filled with smoke. Leni moved her lips down the side of his face, leaving a burning trail of saliva along his skin, her nails scratching lazy circles in his scalp. She rocked her hips slowly forward, and the hem of her skirt brushed his cotton-clad erection, then slipped over, drawing it to the source of her heat.

Trailing her fingers down his face, she reached the corner of his mouth, her body flush against his, and rolled her sultry eyes up to him. "Do you wanna be my boyfriend?" she asked.

Tremors went through him and he shook like Michael J. Fox off his meds. Dense desire choked his brain - he couldn't think, couldn't reason, all he could do was feel: Her warm, pillow breast smooshed flat on his chest, her heart beating wildly next to his, her fingertips stroking softly down his chest to his stomach. The base of his spine tingled painfully as she dragged her nails lightly across the sensitive flesh just above his waistband, and a sharp nngh tore from his contracting throat.

"Do you?" she asked.

He jerkily turned his head, and his eyes met hers.

In that moment, he decided.

As wrong as it might have been, as disgusting and unnatural, he nodded. "Y-Yes."

She smiled with her eyes, and Lincoln smiled back, then they leaned into each other's lips, their mouths opening and their tongues meeting with an electric jolt. Leni laid her palm flat on his chest and Lincoln cupped her cheek in his hand, his fingers threading through her hair. Their heads tilted left and right as the kiss deepened; his tongue plundered the inside of her mouth, tasting and prodding every crevice, exploring every nook, and hers did likewise, flopping and swirling clumsily around his, her fingers curling into his skin.

They pulled apart, mouths hanging open, cheeks blushing, eyes hazy and a long ribbon of their mingled drool connecting them like a rope bridge joining two sides of a canyon. They stared at each other for a panting second, then molded their lips together again, their tongues working faster now, more needily. Her hands moved down his body, brushing over his bulge and making his gasp; his tangled in her hair, tugging mindlessly as she slipped her fingers into his underwear and yanked them down. His dick popped out and trembled when the cool air touched it. She wrapped her fingers around and brushed her thumb across the tip, making him shake. He slid his hand into her shirt, his fingers closing around one pert breast, her nipple scraping the pad of his palm just as it had in his fantasy.

When the kiss broke, she stared at him with racy eyes and bit her lower lip; her fingertips kneaded his throbbing shaft, her touch sending crackles of hot red sensation streaking through him, igniting every nerve ending and setting his body aflame. He rubbed her nipple with his thumb; her eyelids fluttered and she hummed. "That feels good."

"D-Does it?" he asked dumbly. He'd never done this before and he felt like he was fumbling.

She nodded and licked her lips. She moved in and Lincoln tilted his head to one side, but instead of his lips,she kissed the side of his neck, her hand releasing his dick and moving up his stomach. She scooted down and kissed his shoulder, then his chest; looking up at him, she wrapped her lips around his nipple and sucked, her salva hot on his flesh. He slipped his hands into her hair and reveled in its soft, silky touch; she moved lower, stringing kisses from his pecs to the mound curving down to his sex. He tossed his head back and squirmed; when she reached his dick, she drew back and planted her hands on either side of his legs, her eyes crossing cutely as she looked at it. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she said and kissed the tip, making Lincoln gasp. "Aside from, like, your face and your heart."

Bending, her hair swishing across the top of his leg, she took it in her mouth and bobbed her head down slowly, her tongue forming around his shaft and her lips shaping tight to his skin. Lincoln let out a long, breathy "Ahhhh," like a man wading into cold water. The wet feeling of her hot spit coating him, her tongue lapping him, was indescribable; his entire body prickled from head to toe and he sucked great gulps of air into his bursting lungs, his fingers mindlessly twisting and writhing in her hair. She reached his base, then pulled all the way up, spitting him out and looking at it with a devious grin. She glanced at him, then back at it, the tip of her tongue swiping across her bottom lip. She bent her head and kissed it, then flicked it with her tongue, giggling girlishly when it twitched. "It's alive," she said, and for some reason that made him laugh too.

She formed her lips around the head then jerked down again, taking him to the hilt. She pulled back, wrapped her hand around the base, and started to pump, her eyes rolling back into her head and enthusiastic moans and satisfied grunts rising from her mouth.

Hot lead filled Lincoln's stomach, and he fisted the cover in his hands, his hips lifting and falling with the tide of Leni's ministrations. Her speed slowly increased until her head was flying back and forth, her saliva and his precum smearing him dripping down his shaft. His orgasm started to form in the pit of his stomach and his heart seized. He didn't want this to end. "S-Stop," he panted.

Leni pulled back and looked at him, her head cocking quizzically; her lips were stained silver. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I-I almost came," he forced.

She giggled. "That's the point, silly," she said.

"I-I don't want to. Yet."

Her eyes clouded with confusion, then cleared when she caught his meaning. She straddled him, tossing her hair to one side, and splayed her hands on his shoulders. "Did I do a good job?" she asked.

Lincoln nodded. "Yeah. Real good."

She grinned. "Good." She kissed his forehead. "I love you, Lincy, and I want you to feel good." She noticed that her chest was level with his face, and that he was staring at it. She smiled and caressed his forehead. "Do you wanna see them?"

Lincoln swallowed. Yes. Yes, he did.

Inferring this, Leni smirked and undid the top button, then the second, inch after inch of creamy white flesh exposing to his hungry eyes. Half way down, he couldn't take it anymore; he brushed her arms away and slipped his hands in, his fingers closing around them. Leni sighed and chewed her bottom lip, her eyes lidded and smoldering with passion. He brushed his thumbs across her rigid nipples and the blush on her cheeks deepened, going from soft pink to bright red. She threw her head back and leaned into his touch, her body twisting beneath his hands and her heart pounding in his palm. He stared up at her delicate throat, her trembling lips, her face, her expression one of pure, head-swimming bliss. Her dank heat pounded against his dick like the Amazonian sun, and when she shifted, his head scraped her inner thigh.

"Oooh, Lincy," she sighed. She leaned even closer, her smell enfolding him, making his mouth water. He released her breasts and stared at them for a moment: Her nipples were a soft shade of pink and swollen with desire. She tilted her head down, and their eyes met...then he leaned in and wrapped his lips around one. She bit her bottom lip and stroked his hair, a sigh bursting through her teeth when he began to suckle, the salty taste of her skin filling his mouth like nectar. She cupped the back of his neck in her hand and brought him closer. His tip raked across her soft, quivering lips, and they both moaned in unison; Lincoln's hips lifted as if of their own accord, or as if by the hands of Mother Nature. He unlatched from her nipple and peppered kisses across her chest, then up to her throat, his lips pressing against her crazily beating pulse and his hands fluttering to her hips.

Leni drew a deep, heaving breath; she was hot from head to toe and trembling with need...the need to feel her brother's penis filling her, spreading her virgin walls and placing soft Lincy kisses against the opening of her womb. She couldn't, though, because of his spikey things.

But maybe...if she was really quick...they wouldn't come out. Like, it took her awhile to realize things, so what's to say it wouldn't take his penis a while too?

A quiet voice in the back of her mind said that it was a bad idea, but it was drowned out by her rapidly building lust. She pulled away from Lincy and looked deeply into his eyes, a slow, dreamy smile spreading across her face. She stroked his cheek and flicked his cowlick. "We have to be, like, quick," she said.

Before he could reply, she swiveled her hips, and shivered at the feeling of his tip dragging down through the center of her folds. When it pushed against her opening, she took his face in her hands and he stared at her in wonder, awe, and love~

She settled a little, letting him slip just an inch in - giving it a head start, get it? - and sucked her lips into her mouth at the strange, new feeling of having something in there. Lincoln's grip on her hips tightened and he held her gaze.

Heart racing in fear and excitement, she jerked down, a hiss escaping over her teeth as he sank into her, stinging, straining against her walls, and prodding her cervix. Lincoln threw his head back and moaned loudly.

Like a shot, she brought her hips up, her lips slipping over his head. She was so hot she was, like, going to erupt in flames, and her body convulsed as though shot through with electricity.

Bowing her head and swallowing thickly, her hair hanging in her face, she sank onto him again, her body gripping him tight. She pulled off, then slid down his shaft more slowly, savoring the sensations eveloping her. She drew back to almost the head, and sheathed him once more, her body taking her over and passion consuming her mind, spikey things completely forgotten in the smoky haze filling her mind.

Lincoln dug his fingers into her hips and lifted, sending himself deeper into her boiling core; her muscles clenched his and her wet, satiny walls rippled along his length like tongues of fires.

She went faster, bouncing now, and each time her body met his, his orgasm was knocked just a little closer to the surface. She spread her fingers across his cheeks and pressed her forehead against his, gasps and grunts shooting from her bobbing throat with every Lincy kiss he placed at the entrance to her womb.

"Oh, God," she said in a whispering pant, "God, God, God, God…"

Lincoln bore down on his teeth; his climax was bubbling up and he couldn't stop it, didn't want to stop it; it crested like a wave and he gave in, allowing himself to be swept away like a boy by a stormy surge. He expanded inside of her and erupted, his cum shooting from him in a jet and flowed into her waiting pussy, like a bee pollinating a flower. She cried out and jerked against him, her mouth falling open and a breathy moan issuing forth; her body clamped around him, and they pressed their foreheads together, Leni's body shivering pleasantly and tiny gasps escaping her lips. Lincoln wrapped his arms around her and held her tight as they rode out their mutual finish.

For a long time afterwards, she sat in his lap, her arms at her sides and her face nested in the crook of his neck, panting and shuddering as the occasional aftershock raced through her. Lincoln ran her hair through his fingers and kissed her forehead. When he began to shrink, she shifted off, and his seed came out of her in a rush, plopping onto his lap...and the bed.

She curled up next to him, and he slipped his arm around her shoulder. Neither spoke, both basking in the warm, sleepy afterglow of their lovemaking.

At some point, as he drifted, he was pulled back by a sharp gasp. "I forgot!" she said.

Lincoln opened his eyes and turned his head. "What?"

"Your spikey things...they didn't, like, activate."

Lincoln furrowed his brow and started to ask what in the hell she meant, but she closed her eyes, cuddled up to him, and flashed a big, happy, closed-lip smile. "I love you, Lincy."

Lincoln grinned. "I love you too," he said, and kissed the tip of her nose, laughing when her face crinkled.

That night, they slept together.

"Goddamn it," Lisa Loud grumbled and threw her head back. Next to her, Lola and Lana continued their tug of war over a stuffed bear, Lana pulling right and Lola pulling left. Lola bumped into Lisa's arm again, and Lisa glared at the back of her blonde head with murder in her eyes.

It was Sunday morning and raining out, so everyone was cooped up indoors like chickens in a henhouse. Lisa knelt in front of the coffee table, its surface covered with tubes, vials, and dishes, some of them empty and others bubbling with a techno witch's brew that would, if knocked over by a careless child's roughhousing, make Captain Trips look like the sniffles. She supposed she should carry it all back upstairs lest Lola and Lana unleash the apocalypse, but, truth be told, she enjoyed these rare rain days with her family, and when she woke this morning to the hiss of precipitation in the street, she felt a mild twinge of excitement, which, given her clinical indifference, was equivalent to another girl's squealing and jumping for joy.

"Could you two please stop? You're going to open Pandora's Box if you continue your inane bickering."

They ignored her, and she sighed.

"Take that stuff upstairs," Lori said from the couch, where she sat Indian style with her head bowed over her phone. Luna was perched on the arm, tuning her guitar with cocked headed concentration. Luan and Lynn sat side-by-side, Lynn against the other arm and absently tossing a football into air and Luan practicing her ventriloquism with Mr. Coconuts. She wasn't very good.

Lisa sighed. "I suppose it's for the best." She stood, and glanced over her shoulder when Leni came down the stairs, hands up and bent, a musical hum emanating from her lips. She came over, stopped, and crossed her arms.

"You were wrong," she said, a smug edge to her voice.

Humph. Lisa turned back to the table and began to gather her things. "I highly doubt that," she said, "but I'll humor you. What, pray tell, was I wrong about?"

"Lincy's spikey things."

Lisa's blood froze; Lori whipped her head up and Luna looked over her shoulder. "What?" Lisa demanded.

Leni sniffed. "Lincy and I had sex and we're both okay. No spikey things came out."

Lori's hand went to her mouth and the color drained from Luna's face. Luan gaped, and Lynn sat up straight, eyes wide and jaw slack with shock. Lisa tried to speak, but could only open and close her mouth like a fish. Leni giggled, bent over, and touched the tip of her nose. "Looks like you don't know as much as you think you do."

With that, she turned and went back upstairs, leaving her sisters to stare after...then at Lisa, Lori and Luna with sneers and everyone else agog. "Way to go, Lise," Lori snarled, "you really headed that off at the pass."

Suddenly dizzy, and sick to her stomach, Lisa sat her things back down, took a deep breath, and hung her head. "Leni was right," she said at length, her voice pained, "I was wrong and I don't know as much as I thought I did."

Admitting that hurt, but not as badly as being whacked with a pillow by an angry Lori.

That hurt quite a bit worse.