Julius Incestus

The first thing you should know about me is I read a lot of porn. Not the glossy, dead-eyed stuff you find on the homepage of free tube sites, but stories. Long, winding, honest-to-god stories, with character arcs and dialogue and, if you’re lucky, at least a couple scenes of the kind of forbidden, skin-crawling sex I’d be mortified to admit I like in real life. My favorite s...

I was never one for nostalgia. But every once in a while, I’d find myself on the couch at midnight, legs folded under a blanket, glass of wine on the coffee table, flipping through the heavy old photo album I used to keep up before Instagram made even memories feel disposable. Sometimes, especially lately, I’d wind up on the page with Alex at six or seven: all knobby knees an...

Picking up Lila always made me late. Not for anything important, just, whenever my mom texted and said, “Can you get your sister?” I’d feel like I should actually leave five minutes early, then I’d waste it looking for my keys or a clean shirt, and arrive at the curb just in time to see Lila already outside, arms crossed, blowing air through her nose like a bored racehorse.

I’m not saying my sister and I were close, but our parents’ idea of “two college kids sharing a house” was basically: ignore each other until dinner and then re-fracture into bedrooms with doors shut. My point is, Nadia and I had spent the summer practically as strangers. Which is why, when I went to shower that Sunday morning and found her pink dildo suction-cupped to the ed...

The night the power died, it was the sort of Colorado cold that makes your teeth ache and your nuts crawl up near your lungs for safety. I’d been in my room most of the evening, headphones jacked up, shuffling between TikTok and trying not to think about my upcoming final in stats. The wind started hammering the house like it owed it money. Then everything blinked out, lights...