Her smile was all that I needed in life.

I would do anything to see that young girl smile, even if it made me look like a fool.

But I didn't mind looking like a fool, because I was her fool, and that was all that mattered.

I was there when she was born. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Wrapped up in a light pink blanket, eyes closed and her fists bunched up around her chin, I was absolutely smitten by the little baby. I was eight years old, and I knew that it was destiny that brought such a little miracle in my life.

I cried when I first saw her, actually. I didn't realize that I had been waiting for this my whole life, for her appearance. And now that she was finally here I was so overwhelmed with joy that I couldn't keep control over myself, and I bawled.

My dad was there, right behind me. "Isn't she beautiful?" He has asked.

"What's her name?" I sniffled, wiping my nose with my sleeve.

"Her name is Angelique."

"Dad, I'm gonna marry that girl when I grow up." I had decided that about a minute before.

He chuckled. "I'm so sorry, Simon, but that's not gonna be possible."

I was horrified. "Why not? She's a girl and I'm a boy, so it's allowed!"

"She's you're sister, kiddo. I'm afraid that's not…" I could tell he was looking for the right word. He did that a lot. "…appropriate."

I felt like my heart was broken in a million pieces. This went against every story I had ever read. Wasn't the prince supposed to marry his true love in the end? Trying to think of all the stories, the only one that featured a brother and sister was Hansel and Gretel. And I wasn't even sure if they got together in the end!

At that moment, I vowed to be Angelique's prince, no matter what.


I was very attentive when she was growing up. I was around her as much as possible, making sure she didn't hurt herself or wander off or something just as horrible.

She was so adorable. She looked like her name; she has this beautiful, long and soft as silk strawberry blond hair (more strawberry than blond though) that I had Mom teach me how to braid as soon as it was long enough. She never seemed to tan, either, no matter how long she played in the sun. She just kept this beautiful creamy white skin. But her eyes where her best feature- they were steel gray, intense but not harsh. She had this lean, elegant body which made it seem like she was gliding instead of walking.

The one thing that always made me feel sorry for her was that fact that she was so damn small. She looked so frail, like if you even looked at her funny she'd break. That always made me extra cautious when we were in public places- I was so afraid someone might just try and snatch her up. Poor thing wouldn't be able to fight back.

But even when I was fourteen and she was six I found that I still loved her the way I loved her when she was born, which frightened me to death because of two reasons: first of all, I now knew why it was not "appropriate" for a brother and sister to get married, or even have relations beyond that of which a brother and sister should have. Secondly, since I was fourteen and very hormonal, there was a whole new element involved with the love of my sister. But she was six years old, and I was sensitive to that- I couldn't do that to any six year old, period, even if they weren't related to me! But what could I do?

I didn't think there was anything that I could do but try and date other girls, even if it was for show. I mean, even by best friends thought I was a little off when it came to my sister, and I think they started getting suspicious of something because I was fourteen, surrounded by cute girls in and out of school (my guy friends had really hot sisters around my age) and I still haven't had my first kiss yet. Not for lack of opportunity of course, but I didn't want to kiss anyone else but Angelique, simply because no woman could ever compare to her in my eyes. But I started dating girls, never staying with one too long so that they don't get too attached. I didn't want to go around breaking hearts when I didn't need to.

I even started having sex when I was sixteen, just because I was a horny little bastard. I was very much a notorious man whore around the school, pretty much having a new girl every couple of weeks. And I would fuck them often too, because even though I came every time I went at it, I just wasn't satisfied. It just wasn't her, damn it!

I remember for a period of time I gave it a serious shot of having and keeping a girlfriend. I lied to myself that I wasn't some sick fuck who wanted his eight year old sister and started dating this girl named Elizabeth. She was two years older than me and moderately cute, in my opinion, even though the whole male student population thought she was the hottest thing since the invention of fire. She was the type to dye her hair black and wear heavy eye makeup, which in my opinion made her skin too pale and too gray looking- the only color that was on her face was the outlandish eye makeup that should've died in the eighties. But, even I can admit, she had the body of an underwear mannequin (you know, not the overly skinny oh-my-god-I'm-gonna-die-if-I-lose-another-half-of-a-pound mannequin, but the kind they give flesh and curves to make the underwear look good. Walk by a Frederick's Of Hollywood store and you'll know what I mean.) And she wore these little skin-tight dresses in either black or dark, rich colors like royal blue or dark red. So I can see why she was popular with the guys.

The thing was that I barely even noticed her until she started hanging out in my group and started hitting on me. I turned her down the first couple of times, but she was persistent. And my guy friends all gave me the "What the hell is wrong with you?!" speech after the second rejection. So finally I caved, deciding that she wasn't going to be a "Girl of the Week" type deal, because I seriously needed to keep my wandering mind off my sister and onto someone more suitable for my affections.

Of course, not only did this not work, it went horribly.

One time Elizabeth and I were going at it. Angelique was asleep and my parents were away visiting my Aunt who lived across the country in New York, so she basically was staying over the whole time they were going to be gone. For some reason though, Angelique and Elizabeth didn't really like each other. Angelique would just sit and give Elizabeth withering looks, while Elizabeth, who tried to be nice at first, would just ignore her. And every time I was around Elizabeth, Angelique wouldn't say a word to me, which absolutely broke my heart. But I dealt with it, thinking I had to harden myself to this because this was one of the many steps of getting rids of my sinful feeling towards my baby sister.

Anyway, so we were going at it and Elizabeth gets the bright idea to get really, really vocal. She would take the opportunity to scream and moan every time she thought it was appropriate, which got kind of annoying after a while, but I didn't chose to say anything about it.

It was during one of her quiet moments when I heard my bedroom door open. I froze and looked over.

Standing there was Angelique, wearing her white nightgown and the most betrayed look I have ever seen on her face. She turn and ran and I could hear her sobs as they forced themselves out of her.

Fast as lighting I got off of Elizabeth and got my robe on, running after Angelique as fast as I could. I could her Elizabeth's screams chasing after me.


Honestly I couldn't care less if Elizabeth died, let alone if our relationship ended. All I thought about was my little sister and that look on her face.

Angelique had ran into her bedroom and slammed the door shut. I could hear her muttering incoherently between sobs. I felt Elizabeth march up behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder and whipping me around. I gave her a questioning look.

She glared. "I believe we were in the middle of something." She stated.

"I believe that 'something' was ended when my eight year old sister walked in on us." I replied, noticing that Elizabeth was fully clothed.

"Are you saying you rather comfort your bratty sister than have sex with your girlfriend?" She shrieked at me. I don't believe she realized how bitchy she sounded.

I met her gaze. "What girlfriend?" I coldly asked.

She was speechless, her mouth opening and closing like a choking fish.

I pointed to the stairs. "I believe you know where the front door is. Don't let it hit you in the way out."

Making these beastly noises of rage, she slapped me and ran down the stairs. I waited until I heard the front door slam and her car start before I turned back to Angelique's bedroom door. Her sobbing has quieted down a bit.

I knocked. "Angelique?"

There was no response. I knocked again, repeating her name.

The silence was still there, so I opened the door a crack. There was Angelique, sitting cross legged on her bed, hugging her pillow. She had the world's most miserable look on her face. I walked over, sitting down next to her and pulling her against my chest. She stiffened, but eventually relaxed in my hold, sniffling.

We remained there for a couple of minutes until Angelique broke the silence.

"You don't love me anymore, Simon?" She asked, turning around in my arms and putting her small hands on my chest, her teary gray eyes looking into my blue ones.

I laughed a little. "What gave you that idea, squirt? Of course I love you. More than everyone else in the world."

"Even more than that clown girl?"

I couldn't help but smile at that. "Even more than that clown girl." I gave her a really big squeeze and made to get off the bed, but Angelique stopped me.

"What were you and the clown girl doing in your room, Simon?"

Ooh. That was going to me a hard one to explain. I thought for a moment. "That's what people call 'sex'. It's what people do when they get older and love each other very much."

I could see the gears turning in her head as she thought this one over. Finally, she responded. "Can we do that, Simon?

I blinked, shocked. "What?"

"I want to have sex with you, Simon, because you're my brother and I love you!" She beamed up at me.

This was getting a little out of hand. "Angelique, I don't think you quite understand. You're too young to have sex. It'll hurt you very, very badly. And it'll get me in trouble, and we don't want that, do we?"

The tears welled up in her eyes again, and she wailed. "YOU DON'T LOVE ME AS MUCH AS THAT UGLY CLOWN GIRL! YOU LIED TO ME AND- AND- AND…!" She trailed off in a fit of tears and babbling.

This was awful. I tried consoling her but she just wouldn't stop crying. Finally, a last effort idea came to mind.

"How about if I kiss you?" she stopped crying when she heard this.

"R-really?" She asked, sniffling. She got up and walked over to her nightstand, grabbing some tissue and blowing her nose.

"Yeah, really."

"Like you kiss the clown girl?"

Oh, shit. I could see the tears reappearing during my silence. "Yes! Yes, like how I kiss the clown girl! Please don't cry!" What was I getting into?

She finished wiping the snot off her face as she beamed at me. Throwing away the tissue, she scrambled back onto the bed and onto my lap, which reminded me I was painfully naked under this robe. Better make this quick.

"Don't tell mommy or daddy, okay? If you do, then I'd get into really big trouble and I may never see you again." I whispered.

"Okay!" she giggled, settling into a more comfortable position onto my lap, straddling my legs as they hung over the side of the bed.

I put both hands on the side of her head, gently pulling her towards me. My heart was welling up in excitement- I've wanted to do this for a really, really long time. And although I felt extremely dirty, I gently pressed my lips against hers.

The effect was immediate; she wrapped her arms around my neck, her tiny mouth parting slightly, imitating the way Elizabeth used to respond. She eagerly pressed her mouth back, opening it was wide as it would go.

I fought to keep composure, but was failing rapidly. I inserted my tongue into her mouth, tasting her. She giggled, pulling back slightly. I think it tickled her. Her tongue found mine and played with it, fighting to get inside my mouth. Where did a eight year old girl learn to kiss like this? Did she have practice or something?

My hands traveled to cup her tiny bottom, pulling her closer against me. I pulled my mouth away from hers, kisses traveling down her neck, her giggling all the while.

She began to rock back and forth, again imitating the way Elizabeth used to when she was on my lap, but in a more raw, unfinished way than Elizabeth. I froze; I felt my cock harden, poking up through my robe to press against the bit if underwear that covered her crotch. I pulled away, practically throwing her off my lap and onto the bed while I stood up. She rolled over, looking annoyed that we stopped.

"That's enough, Angelique; It's time for you to go to bed." I panted, trying to compose myself. I practically ran out of her room and into mine, horrified.

I just made out with my sister.

I just made out with my eight year old sister.

I just got a hard on because of my eight year old sister!

I ran into my adjoining bathroom, falling in front of the toilet, puking my guts out, thinking that I'm going to hell because even though it felt right, it was just so wrong!

AN: Well, that's chapter one. Please, no flames. If you got to this point of the story, despite the warning in the summary AND beginning, and are offended, well you're not very bright, are you? XP Anyway, Chapter Two will be up shortly, if not the same day as this one.