Chapter 19
LUST FOR HIS SISTER
Andrea stared at him.
Billy shrugged, stretched out on his bed. His arms were folded double and bent under his head. He had said nothing to Andrea since she had entered the room. Five minutes passed. Let her be the one to say something first, if she had anything to say.
Billy yawned. He glanced at his watch, noting the time. In a few minutes he'd get up and amble over to the theatre. Conchita could probably use his help.
"Do you have anything to say?"
"Me?" Billy exclaimed. "That's a twist!"
"I want an explanation, Billy, I want one now."
"You want an explanation."
"Yes!"
Billy shrugged. "Sure. Tell me what you want an explanation for. I'm a smart guy. What's your problem? I'll explain it."
"The phone call," Andrea said. Her voice was furious. "I want to know what was the meaning of that."
"What phone call?" Billy scratched his head. "I don't know what phone call you're talking about."
"Yes, you do," insisted Andrea. "And I'm waiting to hear your explanation."
"Let's see," Billy mused. "Leo called. That was early. I don't have to give you any explanation of that. That's none of your business. No offense meant, Sis, but it was just between Leo and me. Besides, it was all business. You know, about my career and all. Just two pals talking. See? That doesn't interest you."
"Don't try to distract me, Billy," Andrea said harshly. "Everything between you and Leo is my business. But that's not the phone call I'm talking about."
Billy acted puzzled. "What other phone call was there? I don't get you, Sis, was there another phone call?"
"You know damn well what I mean!"
"Your call?"
"No, Billy, not mine."
"Well," he said, "there weren't any other calls to my knowledge. Leo called me, and you called. That's all I know about." He shrugged. "If anybody else had called I certainly would have known about it. I've been here in bed all morning."
"You called Dick Finch!"
"Me?" Billy laughed. "What're you talking about?"
"You heard me!"
"Not clearly, Sis, who'd you say I called?" Billy inquired. "What was the name."
"Finch, Billy, Richard E. Finch!" Billy shook his head. "Never heard of the guy-"
"You had an appointment with him yesterday," Andrea reminded her brother. "An appointment you walked out on, but one which I kept."
"That's right!" Billy snapped his fingers. "That faggot from the model agency. Sure, Sis, now I remember. You told me you had a date with him, didn't you? That was it. Sure, now I remember. You had a date with him last night." Andrea nodded.
Billy smiled. "Didn't you tell me you thought he was queer? Or maybe you said he was straight. One or the other. I don't remember."
"No?"
Billy sat up. "Tell me, Andrea, I'm dying to find out. I presume that's where you were all night. What happened? Did you get laid?"
"I'm holding my temper, Billy," Andrea said softly. "Just answer the question I asked you! Did you call Dick Finch this morning and just wait silently on the phone, saying nothing? You did that, didn't you?"
"Why would-" Billy never got the words out. Andrea's hand lashed out, whipping him savagely across the face, fast and furious.
Billy threw up his hands, making an attempt to block her hands, but Andrea curled her fist and hit him in the mouth. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
"You bitch!"
She spit in his face.
"Sure I called that cocksucker and I'll call him again!" Billy shouted. "Every time you're in the sack with him the phone'll ring! You'll know it's me! But he won't. No, sweet sister of mine, your big stud prick won't know who's calling. All he'll hear is a voice breathing hard and scaring the shit out of him. Every time he's with you!"
Andrea shook her head. "Billy, have you lost your senses ... have you absolutely lost your senses? Do you know what I did last night? Nothing! That's what I did! Nothing!"
"You expect me to believe that?" Billy snorted, wiping the blood from his lip. "Bullshit! You were out fucking all night!"
"With Dick Finch?" Andrea laughed. "I went out with him for one reason and one reason only. You know that, Billy, so stop pretending to me that you don't!"
"Bullshit!"
"It was in order to get you a decent job," Andrea said harshly. "Look at the thanks I get. Maybe you are a faggot after all. You seem to pout like a girl every time you hear the truth!"
"Don't push me, Andrea, I'm bigger and stronger than you. If I belt you it's for good! One punch! That's all!"
"Then hit me," she dared him. "Because I must be stupid enough to deserve it. I spent half the night getting him so drunk he was throwing up vomit over half the streets in town. And then I spend the rest of the night playing Florence Nightingale-God's own good nurse. Fishing him endless cups of black coffee and Bromo Seltzer so he'd be in shape to go to work this morning!"
"Don't expect me to believe that story."
"Why shouldn't you?" Andrea demanded. "It happens to be true. Why did I bother? Ask yourself that one, Billy. Why do you think I bothered putting myself through an emotional wringer with a drunk like that. Why, Billy, why? Because of you! To get you a decent job."
"To hell with that!" Billy screamed, interrupting her at the top of his voice. "I don't give a shit any more about your goddam neurotic concern for a job for me. That's not what I want to know about, do you understand? Stay away from my career. Just one thing, Andrea, just one. Did you fuck him?"
Andrea sighed.
"Did you?"
"Billy," she said softly, "come here and let me love you."
"No! Damn you!"
"Don't you want it, Billy?" Andrea swiftly unlatched the hook at the back of her gown. In less than a fraction of a second she was disrobed, stepping across the room and moving toward the bed. She reached out with her hand to touch him.
"No!"
Billy spun away. Tears of rage and frustration welled in his eyes. Brushing away her imploring hand, he moved toward the window. He clenched his fist, pounding it against the window frame. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"
One sight of her nude body had stripped him of all his resolve. The entire night he had lain sleepless, carefully planning the eventual encounter. Now it was all futile. Seeing her naked had raised his lust and desire. He wanted Andrea's supple body enclosing his and the endless delight of the writhing passion they shared, burning his courage to ashes.
"Sometimes I feel as if you're trying to get away from me, Billy," Andrea whispered. "As if you wish another girl could give you the fantastic fucking I do. You want to be free of me, is that it, Billy? You want to make your own decisions and choose your own friends. That's it, Billy, you're tired of me."
Mere words. Billy heard them all. He had heard them before. He knew where the words would end. They would come to an end in bed, with his heat aroused to the ultimate limit. like a maddened stallion he'd plunge at her, his teeth bared and ready to bite, to kick, to kill, to maim. But always she'd return. He'd smell her heat, the lusty odor of her sensual body, and then the inevitable would happen.
Billy wept. Every word she was saying was true. He wanted to make his own decisions; to decide for himself which acting school to go to, which modeling job to accept. He wanted to select his own pictures and make his own friends-form his own opinions-make his own mistakes.
Billy was sick of having Andrea rule and dominate every aspect of his life. Legally, she was his guardian appointed by the court. She had absolute jurisdiction over him until he was twenty-one, eight months from now.
Economically Andrea controlled the purse strings, forcing him to accept an allowance. It was all arranged for. His parents will had been thoroughly organized, almost as if they had planned to die and leave Andrea in charge of the two younger children. Every cent he spent was out of Andrea's account. All his clothes, shoes, schools, portfolio of pictures, even the decor of his room, the books and the records-everything he had had been chosen for him by Andrea.
Fucking-that was the source, the main spring of power. Ever since they were children Andrea and Billy had slept together. When he tried Billy could barely remember a time when he had not been intimate with Andrea, and it was good. That was the worst of it, Billy realized, how absolutely, fantastically good it was.
Andrea was never jealous. As often as he could Billy would bed down the first available female he could find. Anyone, anything, as long as there was a cunt. He had only one purpose: To find a substitute for the relationship he had with his sister.
He knew he needed to be free from Andrea. He had to be if he ever intended to develop and find a life of his own. He could only be free if a grip of passion could break the bond that held him to the past.
Billy tried everyone, everything. Andrea always smiled-waiting, confident and aloof, like Mona Lisa, knowing in the end that Billy would return on his knees.
Billy was unable to bear that other men slept with her. That drove him wild. And the knowledge that he was jealous and that she was not. Often he thought he could get his freedom if Andrea were to be the one to meet someone else and fall in love. Andrea could sever the bond from her side, but Billy also knew that this was useless. It would leave him more closely united to her than he had been before.
United now in love and death. The only possible path to his freedom and life had to come through his own efforts. Through a transferal of his sexual passion from Andrea to someone else.
He sought and sucked, felt and fucked-but always came home in the end to Andrea's wild, passionate embrace and the dissolution of her body in a primeval movement of total sexual abandon. Stripped of his senses Billy had lost his identity by merging with her carnal heat. And he knew how desperate he was.
The Circus of Sex. All other reasons for his participation in Leo's play paled beside this one. There was only one reason that mattered as far as Billy was concerned. Hope. Billy hoped that the intensity of the artificially created passion whipped to a fury by the spectacle of an orgy performed in public would erase from his flesh the mark of incest, the writhing, serpentine lust he shared with his sister.
Billy wept in frustration. Andrea now nuzzled to his back.
"Poor baby," Andrea murmured. "You know I love you, baby, I love to love you, love to cradle-your balls in my hand, love to fuck you, love to suck you, love to..." Billy whirled. His arms flung out and around her, coiling her in toward himself.
Andrea laughed, "And now it's time to fuck."