No… That’s the Wrong HoleNo… That’s the Wrong Hole


Hello Lit fans! I know it has been a long minute since I have given you anything to cheer about, but my life has been a roller coaster as of late. But here’s on I have had my mind on for some time now. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed putting it down. So curl up, grab something nice to drink and take a moment to take in one of my longest offerings! As always, the characters in this story are entirely fictional and are all over the age of 18. ENJOY!


My parents are the greatest. My Mom is one of the best cooks I have ever known (next to Grandma Gina…go figure). And my Dad is the biggest, sternest, funniest guy I’ve ever met. If he weren’t retired from the Post Office, I would say he should be a stand-up comic. But as a youngster, I just knew something was off. Especially with Mom. I could see it in her eyes. The older I grew, the sadder she became.

All that changed when I turned 8. All of a sudden, Mom & Dad began taking more trips without me. I was beginning to spend more and more time with Grandma and Grandpa (not that I cared at the time, Grandma baked the best homemade cookies and Grandpa took me fishing). Then…one sunny afternoon, I found out what was going on. Sitting in my Grandparent’s den, I had my favorite American Hero’s action figures at my feet and “Chan’s Chinese Kung Fu Theatre” was just going off. I heard the screen door in the front of the house open. I knew it was my parents. Jumping up, I ran to the front room to give them a big hug. Rounding the corner, I stopped short. Standing in front of my Mom and Dad, were my not one…but TWO new siblings. Gerald and Jillian.

Over the course of the past couple of months, Mom and Dad had been visiting the State’s orphanage in order to adopt some more children. I didn’t find out until much later, that when I was born, Mom’s uterus came away with a 4″ tare and she almost bled to death. It totally ruined her ability to bare anymore children. So…they decided to adopt, and here they were in front of me. My new siblings were a brother and sister by birth. Their mother being a drug addicted woman that gave them up instead of trying to raise them. Gerald was my age, only older than me by about a month and half. The only way to describe him was…surly. Along with his luggage of clothes, he carried an old shoe box of baseball cards. He didn’t really smile and wasn’t giving off the friendliest of vibes. However, my new sister was almost the opposite. She had a tiny, snaggle toothed smile. Even if it was hidden behind my Mom’s flower dress. Dad held her small luggage, while her hands were filled with an old, ragged, brown painted Barbie doll that was missing half her blond hair. Grandma and Grandpa moved past me to see the newest branches to their family tree. The rest of the evening was spent trying to get to know my new siblings. They didn’t make it easy. Gerald decided to stick close to Dad and Granddad. He sat quietly among them…until I got close to Jillian. He immediately shot forward as if expelled by a cannon to step between she and I. I almost got clocked over the head. Thankfully Dad was still quick on the draw and stopped him before he made contact. I wanted him to get a whipping like I would have; but Mom saved him. Reminding Dad what they had been through.

It took 2 months before things gravitated to normal. Jillian came around first as I would sit and play “Teatime” with her and Mom on our patio in the backyard. We laughed and chased each other around the yard (Gerald hot on my trail) for the rest of the day. It took Gerald a little while longer. But I finally found out why. Most time at the orphanage, he was hungry. Fighting the other children for he a Jill to keep their food. He was her protector against many of the other kids. The night I told Mom about him saving food in his cheeks after dinner, she made him an extra plate stuffed to overflowing. When he saw it and was told it was all for him…he burst into tears. So bad, he had to sleep in our parent’s bed that night. The next day…he apologized for acting the way he did. We got along much better after that.

Time passed, and we grew stronger as a family. Family movie nights, trips to amusement parks, church, and many trips to Grandma and Grandpa for savory meals and lazy fishing trips became our normal fair. By high school, the differences began to show through. My sibling’s father must have been huge. Gerald became an all-around athlete. By Junior year, he was 6′ tall and was a walking mass of muscle. We both played football (me on offense, him on defense) and he was a school monster. Other kids were absolutely terrified of him. He was notorious for knocking opponents out of games. If they only knew that at home, he took after our Granddad. Soft spoken and a teddy bear of a guy. But what he loved more was baseball. It became a family outing for all of us to await his next ICBM of a homerun. My Dad was too happy to buy us all novelty jerseys in our school’s colors. My jersey had the name “Brother Black” on the back. Jill wore “Sister Şeyhli Escort Black” and so on and so forth. Gerald finally topped out at 6′,4″. A grown ass man amongst boys. He might have even gone far had he not destroyed his knee sliding into 2nd in the High School playoffs.

Jillian on the other hand blossomed slowly. She was always a tiny, skinny little, knock kneed girl. She grew up with a complex about her looks because unlike Gerald and I, she had to wear braces and glasses all through High School…until her Senior year. She went with Grandma and Mom on a church trip for the summer, when they returned…OH. MY. GOD!! Her natural mother must have been a late bloomer; because Jill came back like a full-grown woman. On the trip she grew a lot. She got rid of her corny glasses and bought contacts to amplify her beautiful, big and round dark brown eyes. Gone were her braces, replaced by a beaming, pearly white smile (even though she still wore a plastic retainer at night). Her skinny physique was replaced by a curvy, voluptuous, hippy woman’s figure. Accentuated by the tightest, roundest bubble butt that ever graced a pair of jeans. Even her smattering of acne just disappeared without a trace, leaving baby butt smooth, mocha colored skin. Mom shouldn’t have ever bought her those mid-sized pumps. They only added more height to her tall, shapely legs. Making her calves “pop” like a models. When Gerald and I saw her…both our mouths dropped WIDE OPEN!!

“Pick up your jaws fellas…that’s still your little sister.” Dad ribbed us.

“Damn their jaws. Grandpa added. I ain’t moving from this chair for fear of making my wife jealous!”

“Shut up you old fool! Grandma kidded. Ain’t nothing worked down there in a decade!!”

“As far as YOU know!!” he said.

Everyone burst into laughter except for Jill. She just stood there blushing all over. An almost tangible aura of her embarrassment radiating from her body. To quell the issue, I did what I always did to her as a big brother…I ran over and tickled her. It was a fun game we played as kids and I was so thankful to know that she hadn’t changed inside. She still fell on the ground in total hysterics unable to breathe after a minute.

“STOP IT!! She laughed trying to gain air.



Eventually my Dad came and pulled me off her. Being her knight in gray haired armor. Giving her a moment to catch her wind. Before he followed by picking her up and giving her a raucous series of “raspberries” to her stomach that started the process all over again! Before long, the time for running the halls of adolescent school were all over. As a reward for all our hard work and effort, Mom and Dad gave us a long weekend after Jill’s prom to run the house to ourselves. They went on a trip to New York to take in the sites and the newest Broadway musical. But that was their mistake…and my downfall.

Gerald and I paid a good friend of our Dad to buy the alcohol for our “Slam Bang, End of School” house party. The gang was all there. Many of our friends and teammates showed up to help us celebrate. Not to be outdone, Jillian invited many of her graduating friends and a few “heathen” churchmates to attend. For hours, many people did their best to hook up with who they brought or hook up with who showed up. Our family friend Mike (he knew all of us kids), assembled his computer and took over the music (he wasn’t much of a ladies’ man due to his crippling shyness). But once behind his electronic “wheels of steel,” he found his element. The furniture in the living room was moved downstairs to the basement to make a makeshift dancefloor. A “battleground” for the ultra-competitive and the sexually risqué.

Gerald and I danced off with our “He-man” friends against Jill and her “Cat girls.” It was all fun and games. Everyone having a good time and just enjoying themselves. I unfortunately had to learn a hard lesson that night. The adjustable lights were dimmed as Mike slowed the action down. The lovers and want-to-bees took over the floor. Bumping and grinding to the thumping rythum. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied my lovely stepsister. She was drying off with a handful of napkins from the kitchen. I had made several trips there myself in-between songs to guzzle several different drinks. Beer, Jell-O shots, and a wickedly sweet “spiked” punch. Being her brother, I always wanted to “serenade” her with my sweet moves. Just like we did when we were kids. I should have known better because with every step closer I took to my lovely sister; my heart pounded a little harder. My doubts spoke a little louder (why would my own little sister refuse a slow dance? I couldn’t explain my apprehension then…nor could I do it now) But most importantly, my mix of liquid courage kept my brain from realizing that with every step, the room began to lean a little more.

“Hey beautiful. Escort Şeyhli I said in a slightly slurred, but to my ear suave voice. May I have this slow dance with the most beautiful girl in here?”

Jillian caught me with a half-smile as her girlfriends looked on almost jealously. “Sure handsome. Why not? Be back Fay..” she said to her friend. “Lead the way my Prince.”

Taking her by the hand, we made our way to the dancefloor. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, my sister and I danced close. Hand in hand, cheek to cheek.

“Wow…I can’t believe you actually said yes.” I whispered to myself. Or at least that’s what I thought.

“What?!” Jill chuckled. “Of course, I said yes. You are my brother after all. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Huh? You heard that?!”

Jill snorted that cute snort that always got to me. “Oh God…you are too funny David.”

“You have no idea how many times I have dreamed of this moment.”

“Really? Why? It’s just a dance silly…not a proposal to marriage. Isn’t that what you always used to tell me when I was nervous about skating with Anthony Hills?”

Anthony Hills had been a boy that was on Gerald’s baseball team when she was a freshman. Jill had the BIGGEST crush on him. One of our school outings on Friday nights was to go to the local skating rink where the kids could socialize with little to no “parental” supervision. Just the Off-Duty cops who worked as Security and the few workers that tended the business. As I said, she was so self-conscious back then. Getting close to Anthony almost made her break out in hives, until I calmed her nerves enough to ask him. Eventually they did skate together. The only things stopping her was Tony’s girlfriend (who almost came to blows with Jill over the “intrusion”) and the fact Tony’s Dad got a better job and they moved away after the semester.

(Narrator’s note: learn your alcohol levels guys…courage juice makes you say the most stupid things when you’ve had too much)

“I know…” I slurred. “I’ve just thought you were the most beautiful thing since…I don’t know…forever.”

The look on Jill’s face changed slightly. “Davy…are you drunk?”

“Uhm…I don’t know. Maybe.”

Touching my face, my sister thought better for both of us. “Ok…just do me a couple favors.”


“First…don’t ruin this good deed by talking anymore. You might just talk yourself right out of a “Happy Ending” tonight if you do.”

“Oh…how’s that?”

“Because I personally know 4 of my friends that want to get with you tonight if you don’t mess it up.”

“Hmmm…OK, and the second thing?”

“Don’t drink anymore. You’re acting really strange and I don’t want you to get any drunker so that you might do something “stupid.”

“Ok beautiful. Anything for you.”

As the soft love ballads continued, Jill laid her head on my chest. Swaying in rythum with my body. The heat from hers transferring to mine. Her lovely perfume filling my nostrils. The moment was taking over me in ways I had not anticipated.

The next song was the recent grinder from the islands. A raunchy “reggaeton” that sped things up just a bit. Grabbing Jill’s hand, I spun her around and began dancing behind her. For her part, Jill danced along with me. As the alcohol spun through my head, I remembered watching the dancers in the video to the song. Dipping low, Jill and I ground a nasty bump and grind that if neither of us were wearing clothes might have resulted in a baby.

“Uhm…bro…I think that’s enough.” Jill said. The looks from the on gathered throng of friends apparently conveying the bewilderment of our closeness.

But I was too far gone. As we rose to standing, the alcohol left me with one final vision of the video. Copying the dancers in my head, my hands pulled her hips into mine. My alcohol fueled hard on contacting her fluffy, mini skirted ass. My hands made a slow crawl up her sides to caress her bountiful, sweat covered breasts. Even through the haze of liquid courage, I found that she wasn’t wearing a bra and her sensitive nipples were standing at attention.

Jill broke from the embrace, and in one swift, graceful move, slapped the left side of my face with everything in her 5′,7″ body.


The slap brought me somewhat back to clarity. I stood in the middle of the dancefloor, finally out of my stupor, and feeling completely alone.

Jillian…I-I-I’m so…”


As I moved through the crowd, I was the center of everyone’s attention. Just before I reached the door, my path was blocked by our brother Gerald. In anticipation of the ass whipping I just knew was coming…I tried to put my hands up to fight. Instead, he just placed his hand in the middle of my back and guided me outside.

“What’s that for? I’m not going to beat you up. I think you have done more than Şeyhli Escort Bayan well enough on your own.”

For the next two hours I walked the neighborhood until I reached the park ¾ of a mile from the house. Thinking of nothing else to do…I sat in the swing and cried.

The next few days I was a hermit in my room. Total embarrassment and shame my only friends. My cellphone was as full of unanswered calls; as my head and body was full of my first and worst hangover.

When my parents returned from their trip, again, I braced myself for the beat down to end my life. Surely Dad would kill me for getting “too fresh” with his “little girl” or Mom would wrap her hands around my neck as she prayed for the salvation of my soul. But one day went by, then two. Nothing. They were just happy to be home and relieved to see their house still standing. As a matter of course, nothing more was ever said about that night. Although I could definitely tell the difference in my sister’s attitude toward me. It was more standoffish, a knowing space that was created. I couldn’t blame her. I didn’t want to be to near her either. I just couldn’t trust myself with that closeness again.

Time past. Gerald tried attending college for a semester. But without his beloved baseball (his injured knee included a torn MCL and LCL along with permanent cartilage damage)He just lost interest. Instead, he went to Auto Diesel college and was immediately snapped up upon graduation by one of the biggest Tractor trailer companies in the States, Peterbilt; to service their fleet of customer trucks. He eventually met and married a lovely young High School Art and African Histories teacher named Alexis. Within two years, he was named as East Coast Product Director. A huge increase in pay and a move to Pennsylvania followed.

Jillian got a scholarship to Virginia Hills Academy, majoring in Social Work. There she met her future husband JerMichael who played football for the Virginia Cavaliers. After he graduated with an MBA, he entered the NAFL draft and barely made it, being drafted in the 5th round. Although he played for three years, he couldn’t crack the glass ceiling of stardom. However, he made the Kentucky Colonels team as a semi-pro Indoor player.

While I was happy for Jillian that she found a love for her life, I held on to the pain of my stupidity. Not wanting to get to close. I made a conscious effort to always put a couple people in-between us. Soon after he made it into the pros, Jill called the family with great news. She was pregnant with her first child. 9 months later, little Malcolm was born (named after his mother’s dad). A year later, his sister Ashanti joined him.

As for myself, I buried myself in college. Eventually gaining a degree in Law, specializing in Tax and Property Law. I tried several times to foster a long-lasting relationship. A couple even moving to the realm of engagement discussions. But none made the leap over that wide chasm.

I loved going to Mom and Dad’s and seeing all my nephews and nieces. Spending time with them and watching them grow up. They all seemed to love “Uncle David.” Especially Ashanti. She grew to be my heart. Always looking to latch onto my leg or get a “piggyback” ride whenever the time permitted. Yet, whenever it came to be close to her mom…I made excuses to make myself scarce.

One Friday night I was sitting in my office finishing some paperwork for an ungrateful so and so who was either too rich or too stupid to realize that he couldn’t claim his sidepiece as a dependent. My phone rang as the snow began to fall over the city. On the fourth ring the voice mail picked up:

“BEEP! You have reached the Law Offices of David M. Black. I am not able to answer your call right now…Please leave your name, reliable phone number, detailed message, and an email address if necessary, and I will get back to you as soon as I can…”

“BEEP! DAVID…it’s me…Jillian…please pick up the phone if you’re there. I tried calling you at home, but…”

I snatched the phone out of the receiver as soon as I could. “Hey Jill…what’s up? Wait…JILL WHAT’S WRONG?!! WHY ARE YOU CRYING?!” I could hear the tears fall over the phone lines…my heart sinking with every second.

“David…Oh thank God I finally found you. I don’t know what else to do or who else to call…Mom and Dad are in Hawaii…and Gerald’s…”

“Forget that sis…what’s wrong?!!”

“It’s JerMichael…he-he-OH GOD! I can’t really talk about it right now. The kids are here with me and I can’t go into it right now… All I can say is that the lights and heat are off here at the house, my phone’s almost dead, and all of my cards are cut off!!”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!! OK…hold tight sis. I’ll get some money to you. Does your car still work?”

“Yeah…but after running all my errands today, the tanks almost empty, I have no money in my purse, and…OH GOD!!”

“Mommy…stop crying…” It was Ashanti. Her tiny voice ripping my heart out over the airwaves.

“Sis…turn off your phone, pack a couple bags for you and the kids and get to the nearest Wal World. I’ll text you the confirmation number for the money. It’s beginning to snow out here, so I’ll meet you in Marion at the gas station off exit 255 so you can follow me to my house. OK?”

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