Cassidy & Alex: A Love Story

I. Cassidy

She hadn't realized how long she'd been staring at her phone until the glare of the setting sun through her dorm room window started reflecting off of its screen. She looked up and blinked, for what felt like the first time, her eyes dry and red, her tears long ago having run out. She was dehydrated, hungry, and sore. The weird kind of sore, not the one that comes from exercise or hard labor, but the dull, throbbing sore that emerges from within, a physical manifestation of an emotional wound. Distracted momentarily by the sun out the window, Cassidy looked back down at her cellphone. It had been silent for, by her rough calculations, at least two hours, since her boyfriend, twelve-hundred miles away, had hung up.

There had been no screaming between her and Mike, during their entire three-hour-long phone call. There never was. Cassidy had almost wished there had been. Wished that they could have ended with a bang, instead of a whimper. Some heated screaming match, yelling awful names and accusations at each other, until finally mashing the 'end call' buttons on their phones and never speaking again. Or, she wished, that he had cheated on her. Or her on him. Or that he had shown up drunk to her family's Christmas dinner, or she had accidentally called his mother a bitch in front of him. Something, anything, that would make for a more momentous end to their four year relationship, the first serious one for both of them.

But no. That wasn't for them. Mike and Cassidy, the couple that would have been obnoxious if everyone hadn't agreed that they really did belong together, brought down by a tired, worn out cliché: the long-distance relationship. Mike was a year ahead of her. When he graduated the previous spring, he'd managed to land his dream job. Or, at least, his dream internship, with a major tech company in Seattle. He'd offered to stay, and he would have, but she couldn't do that to him. She knew he'd regret it, and probably start resenting her. Besides, it wasn't going to be like that for them, they'd both agreed. Sure, other couples couldn't deal with not seeing each other for long stretches. Those couples would grow jealous and suspicious. Those couples would start worrying about the future. Those couples would grow apart. Not Mike and Cassidy. They would make it work. They would find a way. They would Skype and text and talk on the phone ever day. And then, after Cassidy finished her final year of her undergrad work, she'd transfer to UW Med. It was a great program, especially for a state school, and even though she'd lived in warmer climates her whole life, she'd adjust. And besides, she'd have him to keep her warm.

Then the letter came. Accepted, from Johns Hopkins University. In Maryland. She'd applied almost as a joke, mainly because two of her friends were applying and had begged her to join them. So, to get them off of her back, she'd sent in her application. They all got their letters the same day. It was a full week, after her friends' tears had finally dried, that she told them that she had received the lone acceptance letter. But she had been committed to Mike, and besides, UW was a fine school. Fine. Just fine. Not like Johns Hopkins, the school she'd dreamed of attending ever since she first decided she wanted to be a doctor, back in sixth grade. She'd come so close to throwing that letter away but, in the end, Mike did for her what she had done for him, and convinced her to follow her childhood dream. They could still make it work, couldn't they?

They couldn't. There was no big moment, it was just a slow slide into the grave for their relationship. When Mike had graduated, the two of them had been talking engagement and marriage, and Cassidy had even, only to herself, began musing on names for their inevitable children. They did well for the first month, talking at least twice a day, usually for several hours, driving Cassidy's roommates crazy. Then the cracks began to form. First it started with a missed call here, a canceled Skype session there. Then Mike had a late meeting, then Cassidy had an exam to study for. Days began going by with no contact. Before they knew it, weeks. Their calls became shorter; they had less in common to talk about. They had a few fights, over things they knew were stupid even while the fights were going on, but nothing explosive. When Cassidy had answered his final call, which had been a full two weeks separated from the previous one, he started with what they both knew.

"It's not going to work, Cassidy."

She didn't spend much time trying to convince him otherwise. They were both smart enough to know better. Instead, they just did an autopsy of their deceased relationship. They remembered good times, and lamented that they were gone. They both cried. At the end, they said their goodbyes, and he hung up first, for the first time ever. That's when she knew it was over.

So she sat there, alone, in her dorm room. Her possessions were all in boxes, most labeled "misc." Her two roommates had already moved out. Jill, whom she'd never really bonded with, left without saying goodbye, and Meredith, who was as close to a best friend as she had aside from Mike, had left that morning. She was going to stay with her family in the hotel suite they had rented for her graduation party. Cassidy thought about calling her and telling her the news about Mike, but decided against it. Meredith had better, more fun things to be doing than listen to her weep over the phone. Besides, she couldn't imagine the words she'd use. She and Mike had been the central couple of their group of friends. While they all acquired, lost, and traded partners, Cassidy and Mike were the load-bearing pillar. She wasn't ready to tell them. She wasn't ready to say it out loud.

There was a faint ticking of an old, analogue clock coming from inside one of her boxes. It was the only thing in the room producing sound. She knew she should get up off of the floor, at least to go down the hall and get some water. But she couldn't move. She was alone in her room, maybe even in the whole building, aside from a stray RA or janitor. So she turned to her only release for the past year, one she'd started turning to almost on impulse. Without thinking, she reached down and unbuttoned her jeans, proceeding to squeeze her fingers down the front of her satin panties and begin to massage her clit. It was funny, she'd never masturbated before Mike moved away. Not even when she was single. It just wasn't something she'd learned to do in her rather restrictive household. She'd only learned for Mike, so they could have some way to share intimacy while talking via webcam. But as their relationship deteriorated, it became her outlet for all of her frustrations. By the time January had rolled around, after Mike had had to cancel their Christmas visit, she was going at herself at least twice a day. And like any drug, the effectiveness had begun to dwindle.

It still felt good, of course, her fingers sliding over her clitoris, through her moist lips and inside herself. She'd built up a perfect rhythm, and trained her body to respond to it. A little too well, she feared, as she pumped her fingers in and out of her pussy, which was getting wetter and wetter, surprising her that she had any moisture left in her body. She worried about the next time she was with an actual partner, instead of just her fingers. She'd been faithful to Mike, even in her fantasies. Her fingers were always, in her mind, his fingers, or his cock, or his tongue. Never anyone else. Not the cute guy in her Anatomy class, not her handsome young professor who she always caught looking down her shirt, not even Channing Tatum. Her fingers moved faster and faster, finally hitting their groove as she reached her hand up under her snug fitting t-shirt and began massaging her left breast. She leaned back against the side of her dresser, closed her eyes, and let the fantasy began to flow in....

...only to have it stop dead in its tracks. Whose hand was pleasuring her this time? Mike's? That seemed...wrong. Depressing. The guy from Anatomy? She couldn't even remember his name. Two tears that she didn't expect trailed out of her eyes. Fuck it, she couldn't even finger herself anymore! Just then, the phone rang.

She pulled her hand out from under her shirt and grabbed the phone off of the floor next to her. It was her brother, Alex, who was in town for her graduation. Staying the same hotel, in fact, as Meredith, just a few floors down. She'd promised Mer that she'd introduce her to Alex, after her roommate had admired a photo of him on her desk. She still wanted to try, if she could ever get off the damn floor. Not thinking, and with her other hand still absently rubbing her clit, she answered the call.

"Hello?" she said. She'd never gotten into the habit of just greeting someone, even if she knew who it was.

"Hey Cassidy, it's Alex," her older brother said on the other end. "I wanted to know if you had plans for tonight, or if you wanted to get together and have dinner or watch a movie or something. I've got free HBO in my hotel room, there's got to be something worth sitting around making fun of."

"I...I don't know," Cassidy said, trying to keep her voice steady. She didn't much want to see anyone, but her brother might have been the one exception. The two of them had always been close. He was the one person whom she told everything to. During their parent's divorce, when he was fourteen and she was ten, they grew even closer. None of their friends knew what they were going through, so they withdrew and ended up talking almost exclusively to each other, leaning on one another. He was the only thing that got her through the nightmarish custody battle that followed, ending with her going with her mother, and him with their father. Later, when he was eighteen and she was fourteen, she sat with him and said mean things about the girl who had stood him up for prom, the only thing that made him smile that whole week. They were always there for one another. She couldn't shut him out now.

"Why not?" he asked. "Did Mike get into town early? Shit, did I interrupt something? They need to come up with a phone version of a necktie on the doorknob."

"No," Cassidy said, her voice quivering despite her efforts to hold it still. "No, he's...he's not in town."

"Cassidy, are you okay?" Alex asked, his voice no longer backed with his trademark humor. Her brother loved to spin jokes, but always knew when to get serious. "What happened?"

"It's...," she said, taking a deep breath, "Mike and I broke up. The distance...it just wasn't working out."

"Oh, Cassidy," Alex said. "I'm so sorry. God, I feel like an ass now. I'm sorry, Cassidy, I know how much you loved him. Do you want me to kick his ass? I'll kick his ass."

"No," Cassidy said, chuckling through the tears. "Alex, he outweighs you by fifty pounds and was on our football team."

"Okay," Alex said. "Plan B, he kicks my ass, I sue him, use the money to buy you something nice."

"No," Cassidy said. "It's not like that. I'm not mad at him, I'm just...sad."

"Okay," Alex said, serious again. "I'm coming over."

"Alex, you don't have to," Cassidy said. "I'm a mess. I'm--"

"You're my little sister," Alex said. "I'm coming over. I'm glad you're not mad at Mike, but I am. Cassidy, you're an amazing woman. You're smart, funny, strong, and beautiful. Any guy worth the carbon he's made of would step on his own mother's throat for a chance with you, and I can't believe that he was dumb enough to let something like distance stop him. I'd kill for a chance with you—"

"Huh?" Cassidy said, surprising herself by how out of breath she was. She hadn't even noticed that her fingers had started moving again, and, without realizing it, she was on the edge of release. Panicking, she bit her lip and pulled her fingers out as quickly as she could, almost smacking herself in the face as she yanked her hand free of her panties and jeans.

"I...I mean if I'd kill for a chance with a girl like you," Alex said, stumbling over his words. "If I was with a girl like you, I wouldn't let bullets stop us from being together. I liked Mike, I really did, but he's an idiot. I'll add to that thought when I get there, okay?"

"Okay," Cassidy said, trying not to sound out of breath. Her body was almost shaking. She needed her brother to hang up so she could finish. She was too loud to finish up with him still on the line. "I'll see you then. Okay. Bye!"

She didn't wait for him to respond before she smashed "end call" and dove her hand back down the front of her panties. She worked furiously, plunging in and out of herself, not worrying about any fantasy, just sprinting toward the goal line. Yet, one was creeping into her brain, despite her best efforts to push it right back out. What had he said before he caught himself? No, it was just a stupid misspeak. Unless.... But he was her brother! She shouldn't be thinking about him while fingering herself! Why the hell had she gotten so hot while he was talking to her on the phone. And was it a misspeak? Or had he said....

Before she could finish her thought, her whole body went supernova. Shockwaves of pure ecstasy radiated through her. She shook and jerked on the floor, like a woman possessed, wailing at the top of her lungs, not caring whether or not anyone else was in the building, but sure they could hear her if they were. She collapsed into herself, lulling her head toward her lap, sending her long, dark brown hair cascading over her face, sticky with sweat. She looked down at her phone, catching her breath, where the record of Alex being her last incoming call was still displayed on the screen.

"Holy," she said, through gasps of air, trying to steady herself against the dresser. "Shit."

II. Alex

Oh, fuck, I've fucked everything up.

Alex's brain, which always seemed to kick in about five minutes after it would have been useful, was cursing him out. How? How the fuck had he been so stupid. He'd spend ten years, ten goddamn years, successfully denying, suppressing and sometimes hiding the unwanted feelings he had for his sister. It was wrong, dammit, and not just because she was his sister. It was wrong because she trusted him. She trusted him to be a big brother to her, not a goddamn pervert who can't keep her out of his thoughts. It wasn't just lust, it really wasn't. Alex loved Cassidy way too much for that. They'd been closer to each other than they'd ever been to any of their friends. He knew her deepest secrets and brightest dreams. He'd been the one she'd come to after she lost her virginity to Mike during her first year of college, full of questions about what was and wasn't 'normal' and if it was supposed to feel 'that way.' He'd answered her, patiently, reassuring her and throwing in a quick joke here and there without being unkind to his sister's naivete. All the while, as they sat in her old room, having to use an old blanket from her bed to cover himself from the waist down, so she wouldn't see how hard he was getting at hearing her talk about her first time, thinking about her toned, curvy, eighteen-year-old body in action. He'd jerked off to the memories of that conversation more times than anything else he'd ever fantasied about, and he felt overwhelmingly guilty every time.

It had started when she was fifteen, when he'd come home from his first year of college, only to find that his kid sister had, well, blossomed. He remembered how furious he was with himself that he had even notice, and managed to push it out of his mind for an entire year. Until the next summer he came home and she was sixteen, now in what he thought was full bloom. He'd had to start wearing one of those stupid yellow rubber bracelets, just to snap, hard, against his wrist every time he had an inappropriate thought about her, or she bent down to strap her sandals in front of him. By the end of the summer, catalyzed mainly by one horribly uncomfortable pool party, he had a welt on his inner wrist so large he couldn't wear a watch for a month. It got worse the next year, and then the next, he realized what a losing battle he was fighting. She was eighteen, and stunning was a terrible understatement. She had an incredible body, the result of four years on her high school's dance team, toned and trim, but with curvy hips, a round, firm ass, and high, full breasts that defied gravity the way that only an eighteen year old's do. Aside from that, she had long, thick dark hair and big, rich brown eyes that he couldn't help but get lost in. He was hypnotized by her. That whole summer, both of them home from college, her from her first year, him from his last, he couldn't stop watching her. He thought sometimes that she noticed, but if she did, she didn't put together what was going through his mind, thank God. She was too innocent for that, he thought; too pure. Or, most likely, she just thought better of him.

Ten years. Ten damn years he'd keep everything inside. Until he slipped, like a babbling idiot, and almost let on that he had considered what it would be like if the two of them were together.

"Who was that on the phone?" a voice called from the bathroom. He turned to see Meredith, Cassidy's roommate, emerging, her chestnut hair hanging in thick, wet waves off of her head, a towel wrapped around her slender body.

"Cassidy," Alex said, as she joined him in the center of the room.

"You two getting together tonight?" She asked.

"Yeah," Alex said. "I was just waiting for you to get done so I could tell you."

"Cool," Meredith said. "I should be getting back to my family's suite, anyway."

"Okay," Alex said, putting his hands on her bare, wet arms, feeling her silky skin under his fingers. "Just don't tell them where you were. I don't think they want to think about their daughter hooking up with a dirty old man."

"Alex," Meredith said, with a crooked smile, "you're twenty-nine and I'm twenty-five. We're hardly a reverse Ashton and Demi. Are you going to tell Cassidy?"

"I don't know," Alex shrugged. "Maybe."

"She won't mind, don't worry," Meredith said. "She's been promising to set me up with her hot brother for months. I just...cut to the chase."

"Really?" Alex said. There was a weird feeling settling over him. Was it hurt? Was he upset that Cassidy would want him to be with her hot roommate? Why? For most guys, that would put her in the running for best sister ever.

"Yeah, really," Meredith said, putting her hands on his shoulders, letting her wet towel fall open, her flat stomach and small, perky breasts peaking out. She pushed herself next to his body.

"I never knew," Alex said, mainly just for lack of anything else to say.

"Hmm," Meredith said, ignoring him and pressing her crotch against his. "Feels like someone is ready to go again. I don't know if I'm up for another full round, but...maybe I can help you anyway."

Alex certainly wasn't going to argue, even though hard, thick bulge in his pants was much more for Cassidy than for her. She lowered herself to her knees, her towel falling to the ground in a heap around her damp, naked body as she unzipped his jeans and tugged them down around his thighs. She eased his boxers down over his cock, and, looking up at him with her bright blue eyes, put her lips around the tip, teasing it with her tongue a few times before sliding it deeper into her mouth, in and out. She was good, he couldn't deny, even if she worked faster than he would have liked. Her head bounced back and forth, his cock sliding through her lips, hitting the back of her tongue, and then sliding back, almost out, just to be drawn back in. She sucked cock like someone in a hurry, but he didn't mind. Head was head. He liked her, but she wasn't his dream girl or anything, nor he her prince charming. They were just satisfying each others' needs. Two bored, attractive people in a giant hotel, finding something to do. He stroked her wet hair as she worked, licking and sucking. She smiled up at him, reached out a soft, delicate hand, and began gently rolling his balls in it. It felt incredible, he had to admit, especially coupled with the feel of her lips and tongue wrapped around his shaft. He was in heaven, or at least as close as he could imagine. But, on the edge of his mind, thoughts of Cassidy began to creep in. With her hair wet, Meredith's was almost as dark as his sister's. Their bodies were similar, too, both toned and tanned, though Cassidy had bigger breasts. Still, with a bit of imagination, what if the dark haired college girl rushing to suck his cock wasn't Meredith, what if....