16 comments/ 69620 views/ 37 favorites Things My Sister Had Ch. 01 By: searchingforperfection This is a love story, and it unfolds slowly. If you're looking for slam, bam, thank you ma'am, you'll be disappointed. If the dialogue seems rather formal, well that's the way my family speaks. Did I get beaten up as a kid? Early and often. I do not now nor have I ever had a sister. There's no truth to this story whatsoever. Karen, at the time of this story, had just turned 18; her brother Dave was 20. ***** My sister had big breasts. That's wasn't just my opinion. In fact, when this all started I didn't even have an opinion. I hadn't thought about it at all. I would have said I knew what she looked like, of course, but in my mind's eye she just looked like my sister. Oh, I could have told you she had auburn hair, and probably guessed that her eyes were sort-of green, that she was shorter than I, that she wasn't fat or skinny, that she had just turned 18; but that's about it. If you think about trying to describe a sibling to a sketch artist, you'll quickly realize that you would have a hard time being useful. Your internal picture of them is a muddle of all the time you spent growing up together. You'd have better luck describing a stranger. Also, my sister didn't show herself off. Her clothes were neat and attractive, but they didn't call any particular attention to her shape. At home she wore sweats. If anything ever bulged, or jiggled, or whatever, it wasn't enough to notice. Besides, she was my sister. We were friendly with each other, "You wanna get ice cream?" kind of friendly, but since I'm a couple of years older we didn't move in the same circles. She was finishing high school and choosing colleges; I was living at home, working part time, and going to a community college. I hadn't excelled in school. I thought I was working my ass off, but it never seemed to do any good. I always heard "You just don't apply yourself." Everyone seemed to think I didn't care, that I was a classic underachiever, that I didn't have any drive. I just figured I didn't have the smarts. Karen, on the other hand, had plenty of both: drive and smarts. She was a straight A student, had made up her mind to be an architect, and our parents had great hopes for her. For me, they had hopes that I'd someday move out of the house. Let's return to where we started: my sister's breasts. One day my friends and I were hanging around, sort-of playing hoops but mostly gossiping. This was teen-aged guy gossip, hormone gossip, so of course we were talking about who we thought was hot: Jennifer Garner, Miley Cyrus (uh, she's a little young for you, Pete), Jessica Biel, Lindsay Lohan, the usual TMZ roster. Then it was on to who we thought looked the sluttiest: the Kardashians, hands down. Finally we got around to girls we actually knew. This one had great legs, that one had an incredible rack, the other one had lips that were made for blow jobs. I told my buddy Fred that I thought his older sister had an ass that just begged you to take a bite, and I thought he was going to punch me out. I guess any other girl in town was fair game, but his sister was off limits even to my imagination. That's when Pete (the one who drooled over Miley Cyrus) said "Your sister has great tits," and the others started hooting their agreement. Now it was my turn to go off — nobody talks about my sister that way! She's a wonderful, intelligent young lady who shouldn't be objectified in such a crude, sexual way and you troglodytes should all take sensitivity training. Yeah, right — it wasn't that dramatic. None of us ever got really pissed, although you could tell some of the comments didn't go over too well when we were talking about each others' girlfriends, sisters, or moms. And my defense of my sister came out more like "You're full of shit, assholes" than the way I described it. But what Pete said did catch me off guard. He must have been seriously checking her out. As I said before, she doesn't show herself off. No, I didn't start snooping around in her laundry, I didn't hide a camera in her room, I didn't peek in her window, I didn't do anything. I would have forgotten the whole thing, and almost had, when something happened to remind me. I came home from work to shower and change before class, and my sister had some friends over. They might have been studying. It was all just girl noises to me, but as I was going upstairs to my bedroom I heard one of them call my sister "grapefruit tits." They all started laughing, and although it startled me a little (and I almost laughed myself) I went on my merry way and left them to it. They probably didn't even know I was there. ***** A few days later I came downstairs for a drink and my sister was rummaging around in the refrigerator. I headed over there to get some OJ, and I must have been in a teasing mood because I said "You gonna be all day, grapefruit tits?" She turned around and looked at me, her mouth open and her eyes wide, and charged up the stairs to her room — slam! I certainly didn't expect a reaction like that! I said before that we were friendly, and I really did care about her. I figured I'd better try to fix things as fast as possible, so I went upstairs and stood outside her door. While I was thinking about what to say I could hear a kind of mumbly, snuffly noise like somebody was crying into a pillow; so I knocked softly on her door. "Karen, can I talk to you?" "Go away, donkey dick! I hate you!" Donkey dick? What the fuck? If you want to get literal, I'm probably average; and how would she know, anyways? In any case, the general intent was clear; so I backed away and left her alone. ***** For the next few days Karen was pretty obviously avoiding me as much as possible; and when the weekend rolled around and we had to do some things as a family, her face froze whenever she looked in my direction and she tried not to talk to me. If our parents noticed, they didn't say anything. They probably figured that whatever it was, it would work itself out pretty quickly. It wasn't like the two of us had never had a fight before. By Sunday afternoon nothing much had changed, and I decided to try to make up with her. Since the parents were going out to play cards with friends or something, I went to the video store and picked out a fairly new chick flick, one that I knew Karen hadn't seen. I figured perhaps I could lure her out of her room and maybe out of her bad mood. I might even get a chance to apologize. When I got home I left the video on the kitchen table where she was sure to see it if she came downstairs. I went up to my own room and checked my e-mail, played some games, and waited. I felt like some kind of fisherman, waiting for the bait to be taken. I heard her go downstairs a couple of times to get a soda out of the fridge, so I knew she had to have seen the movie. Around eight o'clock I went downstairs and turned the TV on loud enough so that she would be sure to hear it. Then I fussed with the DVD player for a minute or two, to give her time to make up her mind. Sure enough, by the time I got the movie ready she had slunk down the stairs and curled up in a side chair with her back to me as much as it could get. We watched the movie in silence. When it was over, she turned and looked at me — not in a friendly way, but at least not in a "I'm going to eat your liver now" way. "Dave, did you get that movie for me?" "Well, I knew you wanted to watch it and the reviews sounded pretty good. Besides, I figured I owed you a peace offering or something." "Why'd you say such a shitty thing to me?" "I don't know, I heard your friends call you that and I just felt like teasing you a little. I didn't know you'd get so upset, or I wouldn't have said it." Karen looked at me for a moment, pensively, as if she were trying to figure out if I were sincere; and then she said "Do you think I like being called that?" "I thought it was just some stupid thing like when guys call each other dickhead or ass-wipe." Again, she looked at me for a moment; and I could swear her eyes were getting moist. "I hate it when they call me that. I pretend it's funny, but it really hurts; and I think they know it." "Then why do they do it? I thought they were your friends." "They are, but a couple of them can get mean sometimes. Right now it's my turn to get picked on, I guess." "And they decided to call you that?" "Yeah. It's bad enough that my breasts are too big, then they have to go and tease me about it." I thought back to what Pete had said a couple of weeks ago. I guess he's a pretty observant guy after all. "A lot of guys like big breasts, you know. I do." Karen gave me a weak smile and said "That's a stupid thing to say, but thanks for trying. I know a lot of guys slobber over big boobs, but just because they're obsessed doesn't make me feel any better. It just creeps me out when I see them staring at all the girls joking about the size of our tits — and if we'll put out. They think that any girl with big boobs is an easy fuck." "Shit, you've been paying too much attention to assholes! I mean, my friends and I talk about tits and fucking; but we all want someone to spend time with, to talk to, as well as fuck. Inspiration struck: "Someone more like you. You're always fun to talk to. You're really smart, but you don't hit people over the head with it. You're interested in other people, too, so you listen as well as talk." Karen was really smiling, now, and even blushing a bit. She has the fair skin to go with the auburn hair, so sometimes she and a fire engine look like twins. "So you didn't mean it when you called me grapefruit tits?" "Of course not! You're my sister, it's not like I'm always checking you out." "So you only check me out sometimes?" She was starting to laugh, so I did too. "Seriously though, Dave, do my boobs show much? I try to keep things under control, if you know what I mean." Oops, this was dangerous territory. Choosing my words very carefully, I said "Well, you always dress nice. You look very pretty, but I wouldn't say that your boobs look bigger than average. I don't think anyone" — (except Pete, I thought to myself) — "notices anything, um, out of the ordinary." "Thanks, Dave — I think." She seemed completely relaxed, at this point, so I decided to ask about her something that had been bothering me. "Since we're clearing the air, here, why'd you call me donkey dick?" "I don't know, I was upset and I said the first thing that popped into my head. I got it from some old movie, I think." I remembered that movie from the oldy, moldy section of the video store. It was "Boogie Nights", and the porn-star "hero" was trying to masturbate in front of some guy to earn some money. His dick was huge, but it was limp, and the guy called him "donkey dick" and pushed him out of the car. That wasn't the important part of the movie, though. The important part was seeing Julianne Moore naked. That kept me going for months, let me tell you. "Yeah, I remember it. Hearing that from a guy would be an insult, I guess, or just plain weird. Getting it from a girl could be a good thing." "Oh!" She was really blushing now, and giggling, as she thought about what she'd said. I got up and walked over to where she was sitting. "Well, I have to work tomorrow so I'm going to turn in. Are we good?" Karen stood up and met me half way. "We're good. You're a really nice guy, Dave, even if you are my brother. I should have known you wouldn't hurt me on purpose." We gave each other a good hug, smiling at each other, and then I headed up to bed. While we were hugging I learned some things about my sister: My sister had very beautiful, very green eyes. My sister wore a sports bra, even under her sweats, to "keep things under control." My sister had big breasts. Things My Sister Had Ch. 02 If you haven't already, please read Chapter 1. Karen, at the start of chapter 1, had just turned 18; her brother Dave was 20. * My sister had drive. I already mentioned that Karen had both smarts and drive. She was planning to be an architect, so she was heavy into math and science. She'd already applied for early admission at her first choice college, and was applying to several others as well. I was heavy into "general studies." I knew that stacking boxes at a warehouse was not the career that would get me what I wanted, so I was trying to get some drive of my own. I wished I could have gotten some smarts, too. It was pretty rough going for me. One Friday night, when I didn't have a date, I was sitting at my desk reading — and I mean really reading — a book of poetry for a lit paper that I had to do. I'd never been much for poetry. I was starting to enjoy it and even understand it a little, but I just couldn't get the hang of analyzing it the way the professor expected me to. I could recognize a sonnet, and tell when something was a love poem, but I guess I tended to be too literal-minded. That's why I was studying on a Friday night instead of going out with my friends. I knew I needed a head start on a hard weekend's work. It got pretty late. I was rubbing my eyes when my sister got home. She'd been going out with some Trevor guy for a few months. I'd met him once, and he seemed like an okay dude. My sister seemed happy with him, and she hadn't come home in tears from a date, so it was all good. I was about ready to give up for the night when my sister walked past my door and saw me. "Hey, Dave, how come you're home on a Friday night?" Ever since that whole "grapefruit tits" episode Karen and I had gotten closer. We'd always been friendly enough, but now it was common for us to seek each other out for conversation. We both really enjoyed those talks. Even though we were brother and sister there were lots of things we didn't know about each other. It turned out that we had a lot more in common than we'd thought, what with her being a brain and me being ... not. We talked about serious stuff, and we joked around a lot, and we shared books that we'd read. Stopping by for a goodnight chat had become a habit, and we often hugged when we ran into each other. Those hugs were nice, but sometimes they reminded me of how that fight had started. I'd begun to notice how curvy she was under her loose outfits, and it had started to feel weird: not exactly sexual, I wasn't getting stiff or anything, but it was not the same as hugging Grandma. It left me feeling good but a little guilty. Well, let's get back to my homework. I'm sure that's your favorite part of the story. "I have to come up with something about this poetry by Monday. I have to compare and contrast a bunch of these poems, and I'm having trouble getting my head around it. I really want to do well on this paper, to keep my grades up." "Keep your grades up? You mean you've got an 'up' to keep?" "Oh, c'mon Karen, I work my ass off. I have to do something before Mom and Dad throw me out of the house. I don't want to live in a cardboard box." "I'm just kidding, Dave. I've heard them talking, and they're really proud of the way you've buckled down. Let me see what you're reading." I showed her the book. It was a collection of poems from English poets, starting with John Donne and going all the way up to Tennyson. It weighed 47 pounds. She flipped though it and said "You aren't expected to do all of these, are you?" "No. I have to pick three, from different time periods." "Okay, let's see what you've got so far." "What do you mean, got so far? I have the book. I picked three poems. I read them. I'll write my essay tomorrow." "Dave, where are your notes?" Karen scowled at the dumb look on my face for a minute, then she yawned. "Look, Dave, it's late and I'm tired. How about I help you with this tomorrow?" "Would you?" I'd never asked for any help with school work from her, or anybody else. I always figured I could handle it by myself, but I was really struggling with this. "Thanks, Karen." She went off to bed. I put the book down with a colossal thud and went to sleep. ***** Saturday morning I crawled out of bed and went downstairs to get myself some of whatever looked edible. Mom had left some coffee in the pot, and Karen was frying eggs. "You want any?" "Sure." It wasn't that I couldn't cook, at a survival level, but I was lazy. Fried eggs and toast sounded a lot better than a Pop Tart, especially if someone else was doing the cooking. "I'll clean up after." "You fuckin' better!" After I washed the dishes and took a shower, I knocked on Karen's door. We went down to the kitchen where we could spread out. "Dave, you've got terrible study habits. No, that's not fair. You've got no study habits. We're going to do this my way!" Like I said, drive. ***** I'd already picked three poems that I liked, so that part was done. Karen handed me a pad of paper, and had me tear off three sheets. She told me to label each sheet with the name of the author and the name of the poem, and lay them side by side on the table. Under each title she had me write the year when the poem was written, and a couple of lines about what was going on in England at the time. She said that the societal context informed the poet's work, so it was important. That drove me to Wikipedia, but she followed me up to my room and looked over my shoulder to make sure I didn't start playing video games. That was annoying, but it made me realize that she had my back. It was a nice feeling. Back at the kitchen table she kept asking me questions about each of the three poems in turn, and had me write down the answers on the three pieces of paper. She insisted that I answer every question, no matter how many times I said "I don't know." Before I knew it each piece of paper had grown to three, and then four. By lunch time my brain was bleeding, but I could tell I was pretty much done. All I needed was to turn my notes into a formal paper, add some kind of summary, and it would be finished. "Shit, Karen, you made it seem so easy! I'd still be working on my first paragraph." "You did the work, Dave. I asked the questions, you did the thinking. All I did was force you to organize it properly." "Would you mind helping me again sometime?" As I gathered up my papers, she came over and gave me another one of those big hugs. Then she kissed me on the cheek, and as I recovered from my startle she said "Anytime." ***** Karen began helping me with my class work on a regular basis. She never did any of it for me, she just guided the way I did it. Not only did my grades go up, they went through the roof! I'd been a C- student when I'd started community college. Through a lot of hard work I'd gotten up to B, and I'd been on track to get my Associate's degree with no problem, but now I was an A+ student. Better yet, it seemed like the work was getting easier and easier. I told Karen that. She smiled and said "Study habits." ***** About two months into the semester my sister stopped by my room on her way to bed. Since my door was open, she walked in and sat on my bed. She looked serious, so I shut down the game I was playing and swiveled my chair around. "What's up?" "Dave, have you thought about what college you are going to transfer to?" I didn't know if my chin really hit the floor, or if it just felt that way. I hadn't even considered the idea! "Dave, you have to choose quickly if you expect to be admitted for next year." "I didn't think I was going to transfer. I guess I figured this was it, I'd go out and get a full time job of some kind." "Why do you think I've been helping you? An Associate's is an Associate's, you could have done that on your own. This is about going to a four-year college, and grad school after that." Now I knew my chin was on the floor. Grad school? Me? "What do you want to study?" I started to get defensive, and scared. My sister had my back, all right, but she was pushing hard on it. "How the hell am I supposed to know, Karen?" "Okay, let's figure it out. Grab a pad." I figured I had no choice in the matter. This wasn't drive, this was overdrive. Thanks to my sister I'd learned to keep a pad near my computer for doing research, so I picked it up and settled it in my lap. She rolled her eyes, and said "Pen too, dummy." I got a pen and just sat there. She rolled her eyes again, and started talking to me as though she were walking a kindergarten class through its first adventure with colored paper. "Make three columns. Good. Label the first column 'Subject.' Good. Label the second column 'Pros.' Good. Label the third column 'Cons.' Very good. Now in the first column, write down every subject you've taken since junior year in high school." She sat there while I scratched my head and made my list. When I was done, she said "Now cross off every subject you hated." "What about the ones I didn't do well in?" "Leave them on there for now, just scratch off the ones you hated." I did as I was told. "Okay, Dave, now read off what's left on the list." I began my recital: "Algebra, English Lit, Ancient History, Art History, American Lit, Calculus, Accounting, Introductory Statistics, Advanced Statistics, Macroeconomics, Computer Science I, Computer Science II, and Advanced Computer Network Design." "You took a pretty heavy load, Dave. No wonder you were sweating it out." "Until you taught me 'study habits.' Then it got pretty easy." She laughed, and blushed. "Trouble is you're all over the map. You didn't really concentrate on any one thing. Well, for now just fill in columns two and three with the pros and cons. We'll go over it tomorrow night." "Tomorrow's Friday, I have a date." "With Bethany?" "Yeah, why?" "I just didn't know if you were still going out with her." She smirked and said "She's got grapefruit tits." I figured we'd gotten to the point where she could joke about it, so I asked "What about you? Are you still seeing donkey dick?" She gave me a combination blush and grin and said "If only... Okay, we'll go over your list Saturday." ***** Saturday morning she was waiting in the kitchen when I came down. After the customary bribe of fried eggs, this time with bacon, she sent me back upstairs to get my pad. I sat down at the kitchen table and quickly filled in the two columns. For most of them, one of the cons I'd written down was "no jobs." I really had no ambition to be a college professor, so something like Ancient History would be a dead end for me. Karen looked over my shoulder at my list. "Was there an Introduction to Computer Network Design?" "Yeah, but I skipped it." "How come?" "Well, they said I did well enough in the other computer classes that I didn't need it, so I went straight to the advanced class." "Did you like the computer stuff, Dave?" "A lot. It's pretty." That got me a confused look. "What do you mean by 'pretty'?" "You know how the crystals in Dad's geode look pretty? They have such simple shapes like cubes and stuff, but they grow into such complicated patterns? Computer code is like that, and when you do it right it almost shines." Her brow smoothed. "I know what you mean. Ever since I saw them building that big mall I've been fascinated by how all of the pieces have to fit together. That's how architecture is for me. I think computer science is your thing." I thought about it, and nodded. "I think you're right. So, now what?" "Wait right here," she said, and she ran up to her bedroom. When she came back down she had a pile of papers and what looked like magazines. "I figured we'd need these. Here are some college catalogs I was checking out for you, and application papers to go with them." I took a quick glance at the names. "But Karen, you're crazy smart. These colleges aren't for guys like me!" She gave me a dirty look. "David Olivera, if you weren't so stupid you'd know how smart you are! These colleges are for guys like you. What were your SAT scores?" "Um... reading was 769, math was 783, and writing was 655." Now, instead of a dirty look, I got one of amazement. "Your scores are as good as mine! No wonder you're doing so well." "Yeah, thanks to your patented 'study habits'." It had become a standing joke between us. "Okay, let's go through these. Some of the liberal arts schools have decent computer science departments, and you might get a better general education; but I think you'd be better off at one of the ones I picked, the ones that have really good applied math and computer science departments. And don't worry about being a late bloomer, sometimes that appeals to them. Take this stuff and look it over. We don't have much time, so you need to make a decision and get your paperwork in right away. As it is you'll probably get wait-listed at most of them." ***** As instructed, I spent the rest of the day and evening going over the college catalogs and settling on a handful of schools. Bright and early (for a Sunday) the next morning, Karen was knocking on my door. "C'mon, Dave, let's get going on those applications. Each one requires an essay, you know." "Do I at least get breakfast?" "Okay, but hurry up and get downstairs while Mom's still in a cooking mood." The promise of a Mom-cooked breakfast was enough to get me moving, so I took a quick shower and came down in time to get some pancakes. Dad was just finishing his coffee before leaving to play golf, and Mom was planning to go off with her sister to do whatever it was they did. That meant Karen and I would be able to use the kitchen table without attracting attention. For some reason I hadn't said a word about any of this to Mom or Dad; and I didn't think Karen had either. Since I was considered an adult they didn't even get copies of my grades, so they didn't know how well I'd been doing. By the way, if you've gotten the idea that our parents weren't around much you're right. They both worked, sometimes long hours, so once Karen and I got old enough to be trusted alone they started making up for all those years when they were trapped in the house with us kids. As soon as they were gone, Karen and I spread out the catalogs and I told her which ones I'd picked. She looked at me with a satisfied smile and said "Those are the same ones I picked." Now came some real work. I had to fill out four different applications, which was more of a nuisance than anything else, but then there were the essays. I asked Karen if they could all be the same, and she said they could be, pretty much; but I had to tailor each one to the specific school. "Pretend that you're trying to get the school to marry you. Don't talk about your grades or scores, they'll get that from your transcripts. Tell them how impressed you are with what they have to offer, that kind of thing, and tell them how happy you'll make them. Explain what a good fit you are, how much you hope to contribute to campus life, how fulfilling the relationship will be, shit like that." She grabbed her car keys and headed for the door. "Hey, where are you going? Are you just going to abandon me?" "Keisha, Linds, and I are going to hang out, maybe go to the mall or hit a movie. You'll do fine. You'll have your degree in Computer Science in no time. Just get busy, I want to read those essays when I get back." My sister had drive. Things My Sister Had Ch. 03 Please read the previous chapters. Karen, at the start of chapter 1, had just turned 18; her brother Dave was 20. * My sister had a great ass. My friends certainly thought so. I already told you how Pete had noticed she had big breasts, but there was more to come. We were fortunate enough to live in an area where the swimming season was nine months, so even though it was nearing Thanksgiving our pool was comfortable. My friends and I used to spend weekend afternoons in the pool, or just hanging around it. One afternoon four of us were in the water, having chicken fights, when my sister came out of the house. I was a little surprised, because she almost never came out when there were guys around. I now knew that it was because she was embarrassed about them seeing her body. She usually didn't spend much time outdoors anyways. You know that our last name is Olivera, and I take after my father when it comes to olive skin, black hair, and sun resistance. To see her, you'd never think that Karen and I were related: she got her fair skin, green eyes, and auburn hair from Mom (maiden name McKinney). My father had built a roof over part of the patio near the pool, so that Karen and Mom could sit out without worrying about burning. That's where Karen headed. She was wearing a loose robe, but as she bent over to arrange a lounger the robe pulled tight across her butt for a moment. Pete and the other guys must have been staring at her already, because they certainly noticed in an instant. It only took a moment for them to agree that my sister had a great ass. "Boy, I'd like to bend her over like that again," Ben said with a snicker. I would have kicked him, except I was on the bottom and he was sitting on my shoulders. "Me, too." "Damn, yeah." "Where you been hidin' that piece of ass, Dave?" "Hey, I hear she's some kind of genius. Do you think she'd do any tutoring? I could really use some help with my problem." They were talking softly, but I was still afraid my sister would hear them. "Shut up, you pricks, she'll hear you!" "I hope she does" said Ben, and this time I bucked him off my shoulders and held his head under water. When the ruckus settled down, I looked back to where Karen was. She had taken off her robe, and was lying down on the chair. She was wearing a modest two-piece bathing suit. She'd told me once that she couldn't wear a one-piece, because the top would never fit her. If she bought one that fit her up top, it would hang off the rest of her body. She'd found a two-piece that had ruffles around the top, so it partially disguised her breasts. She showed no sign of having heard us. She had her nose buried in a book. I figured that she was waiting for us to clear out so that she could have the pool to herself and do a little swimming. I wanted to help, and I didn't want to hear any more shit about her, so I suggested to the other guys that we head on over to the park to play some hoops. ***** The whole time we were at the park the other guys kept after me about my sister. What was it like to live with a hot babe? What was her bra size? Did I ever see her naked? Did she date a lot of different guys? Could I hook them up? I was getting really pissed, they knew it, and that egged them on. Finally I couldn't take it anymore and I left. When I got back from the park I went out back for one last dip in the pool, and Karen was in the water. As I waded in, she swam over to me to say "Hi". "Um... Sis, I hope we weren't making too much noise for you to read." "You mean, did I hear what they were saying about me? I did, but I'm used to it. I don't give a shit what they think. It's sweet of you to care, though. You always do. Thanks for being such a good brother." At this point she was standing waist deep in the water right in front of me, almost touching me. No excuses, I just couldn't help looking at her chest. From my angle the ruffles didn't hide anything. I was looking down into the most amazing cleavage I'd ever seen in real life. I caught myself, and looked up. She raised one eyebrow, leaned forward, and kissed me on the cheek. She'd been adding a kiss on the cheek to our usual hugs, but this felt different somehow — probably because I was so embarrassed about looking at her boobs. At that moment I didn't feel like such a good brother. I felt like a creep. She put her hand on my arm to get my attention. "Dave, I'm going inside to shower and change. I rented a movie I think we'll both like, why don't you clean up and we can watch it together." My arm started to burn where she'd touched me. What the hell was happening? This was getting weird. My shower had better be pretty cold. ***** At that time I'd been going out with Bethany for a few months, and the sex was good, but after awhile it just felt like there was something missing. I'd gradually realized that we didn't have that much to talk about when we weren't out somewhere. I mean, if we went to a movie we'd talk about the movie, or if we went to a party we'd talk about that, but when we just hung out together it all stopped: not in a quiet, companionable way but in a "Jeez, I hope she says something cause I haven't got a thing" way. I couldn't help contrasting it to the time Karen and I spent together, and I knew that Bethany and I were never going to be close friends. I guess she felt the same way, because when I told her I thought it was over she looked hurt, but not surprised. It had been a few weeks since then and I was feeling horny all the time. My dick was on the hunt, and it was getting more and more hungry. I figured that's why my sister's boobs had gotten so interesting all of a sudden. Well, I knew a temporary fix. I took off my bathing suit and showered, and while I was in there I gave my dick a good workout. Feeling a lot more relaxed, I got dressed and went downstairs. My sister had made popcorn, and she motioned me to sit on the couch near her so we could share. All of my embarrassment came flooding back. I sat about as far away from her as I could and still reach the bowl. She didn't say anything, she just looked at me. My olive complexion wouldn't let me blush, but the rest of me was trying as hard as it could. I reached over, pulled the bowl closer to me, and grabbed a handful. She reached over and pulled the bowl closer to her, really close. If I wanted more popcorn, I'd have to sprawl across her lap to get it or else face defeat and sit closer to her. I decided I didn't want any more popcorn. It was all really obvious, and finally she started to laugh. "It's okay, Dave. I know you were looking at my boobs. You couldn't really help it, they were hanging out right under your nose and you were curious." That was very charitably put, I must say, but I still felt I should apologize. "Well, I know how you hate it when guys stare at girls' boobs, and my friends had been acting like such assholes. I don't want you to think I'm like them." "Of course you're like them, Dave. You're a straight guy with hormones to spare, so I know you stare at girls' boobs. I don't have to see you do it, I just know." "But you're my sister!" "Yeah, but right then I wasn't. It wasn't me there, just my boobs. They were anonymous body parts, like those chest mannequins they use to display bras in stores. I'll bet some of the porn on the net shows just close-ups of tits." She had me there, but I was still embarrassed and upset. I couldn't tell her that it wasn't just the look at her cleavage that got to me, but the kiss on the cheek and the hand on my arm. I was starting to freak, wondering if she knew. She put the popcorn bowl right between us, so that we could both reach, and started the movie. As she'd promised, we both liked it. ***** When the movie was over, she went to the DVD player to retrieve the disk. She'd left the case on the floor, and when she bent over to pick it up her sweats stretched across her butt a little, giving me a hint at what did seem to be a truly nice ass. It might have been my imagination, but it seemed like her sweats weren't as loose and floppy as usual; or maybe I was just paying attention for the first time. She put the disk in the case, and turned towards me expectantly. With fear and trepidation I walked over to her and put my arms out to hug her. She snuggled into me, reached up to kiss me on the cheek, and whispered "Girls have hormones too, you know." She turned bright red, and looked as though she couldn't believe she'd said it. My eyes followed her as she headed up the stairs. Looking closely, I imagined I could see shapes undulating under her sweats. I needed some more alone time with my dick. My sister had a great ass. Things My Sister Had Ch. 04 Best read the previous chapters. Karen, at the start of chapter 1, had just turned 18; her brother Dave was 20. My sister had plans. Around Thanksgiving my sister got a letter from her college of choice. She'd been turned down for early admission. She was pretty upset about it, and our parents and I tried to comfort her as well as we could. After a few hours of tears and days of glum looks, she came around and started looking forward to letters (better yet, packages) from the other schools she'd applied to. I'd almost forgotten that I'd applied, too. Well, not really, but I didn't start to get excited until she did. A week went by, and then another. Then one day I came home from work and as soon as I walked in the door she threw herself on me, legs around my waist and arms around my neck. She gave me a bruising kiss, right on the lips, and I almost fell backwards from the impact. She was jumping out of her skin with excitement, and screaming "We're in, we're in, we're in!" I set her down and tried to figure out what she was talking about, and then it dawned on me: we'd both gotten into college! I hollered "Yes!" and did my own little dance, then when we'd both calmed down a little I asked, "In where?" "Barnes Tech! We both got in! It was my second choice, but it was your first! We'll be going to the same school!" "But Karen, what if either of us gets into some other school, too?" "Barnes was your first choice, and my second. The rest were just fallbacks. It's settled." She started jumping up and down with excitement, and threw herself on me again (with a little less force). She looked me in the eyes, and gave me another smack on the lips, making that "mmmwah" sound people do when they're playing around, then she put her head on my shoulder and started to bawl. I knew she was crying from joy, so I waddled over to the couch and gently set her down. She pulled me down with her and continued to cry on my shoulder, holding me as tight as she could. When she'd finally calmed down, I suggested that we go out for ice cream to celebrate. She nodded and went to fix her makeup. While she was doing her repairs, I looked at the table where there were two fat manila envelopes from Barnes, one for her and one for me. She hadn't opened mine, but it looked the same as hers and it was obviously too fat to be a rejection letter. As I shuffled through my package of papers, a yellow sheet caught my eye. It said "Attention" at the top, so I read it with some foreboding. All it said was that due to a shortage of on-campus housing, there would be a lottery to see who got dorm space. It also gave a price schedule for the dorms, and it said there was another insert listing apartment complexes in the area that usually had lots of students living in them. Karen interrupted my reading by bounding down the stairs and grabbing my hand, heading for the door and ice cream. ***** As we were sitting in our favorite ice cream place busily ruining our appetites for dinner, it hit me like a brick that we still had not told our parents about my college plans. "Karen, we have to tell Mom and Dad tonight." "I know, can you imagine their faces? I can't wait!" "Well, it's not just going to be a shock to them, it's going to be a shock to their wallets. They probably set aside money for you, but what about me? They didn't think I'd ever make it through community college, let alone get into a university." "Don't worry about it, Dave. They probably started saving for your education when you were a baby, just like they did for me. They might have stopped a couple of years ago when it looked like you were going to be a burger flipper, but I'll bet they didn't. There'd still be a pretty good pot even if they did." "Should we tell them as soon as they get home, or over dinner?" "Well, they don't both get home at the same time so I say we should wait. We'd better get home and hide those letters." This was going to be an interesting family meal. ***** By the time Mom got home we'd hidden the packages from Barnes and retreated to our rooms. She started dinner, and when Dad got home they each had a martini. That was their usual "unwinding" ritual before dinner, and I figured that under the circumstances it could only help. If they had known what was in store for them, they'd have mixed a pitcher. We had all finished the main course and were working on dessert when Karen started the ball rolling. "Guess what! I heard from Barnes Tech, I got in!" There was a chorus of enthusiastic approval from Mom and Dad, and then Karen looked meaningfully at me. In a more subdued tone I said "Guess what, so did I." Dad almost shoved a forkful of cake up his nose, and Mom just froze for so long I thought maybe she'd stroked out. Dad recovered first. "Damn, Dave, you didn't even tell us you applied! Congratulations!" Mom awoke from her trance. "Why didn't you tell us about this, honey?" "Well, I hadn't really planned it. I was doing okay, but not great, at the community college and didn't know what was coming next. Then Karen got hold of me and it just built from there. She taught me how to study, she convinced me I wasn't a dummy, she helped me pick my major, she pushed me through choosing a school, and this happened. I guess I didn't want to get your hopes up." (I was also thinking that I hadn't wanted another round of "You make all these plans but you never follow through," but I kept that to myself.) At this point Dad decided that a round of drinks was in order, something he did once in a blue moon, so he opened a bottle of Asti Spumante and we all made a toast. ***** The next evening Mom and Dad kept glancing at each other during dinner, and as we were finishing Dad said "Kids, we need to talk." That didn't sound good. "Mom and I are doing okay, but we aren't rich. We've been putting away money for your educations since you were born, but school costs have gone up awfully fast and Barnes isn't the cheapest place around. We can manage this, but just barely. "We've been looking at some ways to save a bit of money here and there. One thing that we'll have to do is limit you to one car. That will save us a couple of thousand dollars. "Next, when Mom and I were in school living on campus was an important part of going to college, but it doesn't seem to mean much anymore. When we were in school only married students lived off campus. Now it seems to be pretty common. We looked at the stuff in your packets, and it would save another couple thousand if you shared an apartment off campus. "There might be other things we can do, but how do you two feel about things so far?" I went first. "Well, having to share a car will be a pain, but sharing an apartment won't be much different from living here." Karen nodded her agreement. "I don't think I'd want to have any strangers for roommates, though, so would it be okay if we found a two-bedroom for just the two of us?" Dad said "According to the rents in that listing they sent us, that would be okay. I don't blame you for not wanting to share an apartment with strangers." We all nodded, and it was settled. ***** Karen and I headed up to our rooms, and when we got to the top of the stairs she stopped me. She pulled me into a hug, squeezed me tight, and whispered "I knew it would all work out." She kept squeezing me. Her breasts were pressing against my chest (through our clothes, of course), and I could feel how big and soft they were. If one touch on my arm the other day had started a burn, this was like hugging a stove. My throat started to close up, and I don't think I could have spoken if I'd wanted to. It was going to be a restless night. Through the fog that was forming in my brain, I heard her say something else. "Dave, don't hate me for this, but I kind-of did some things with the mail and stuff. I wanted to make sure we went to the same school." She gave me a kiss, on the cheek this time, then let go of me and went into her room. I stood there for moment, then stumbled into my own. I wasn't quite sure what had happened, but I knew that my sister had been in charge the whole time. My sister had plans. Things My Sister Had Ch. 05 Please read the previous chapters. Karen, at the start of chapter 1, had just turned 18; her brother Dave was 20. My sister had doubts. When the school year came to an end, I started working as many hours as I could to build up some capital for my first year at Barnes Tech. Since I'd been the one who had turned things upside down, I figured I owed it to my parents to take as much of the strain off them as I could. The least I could do was pay for some of my own expenses. Karen got a job, too, so we hardly saw each other for more than a few minutes each day. I really missed spending time with her. We still had our bedtime chats, but they were usually about how we hated our jobs and what had happened that day to piss us off more than usual. We were always pretty tired so they were short, too. One night I realized I hadn't heard anything about her social life in awhile. "Hey, how's that guy you were dating, Trevor? You too still going out?" "No, we stopped seeing each other a few weeks ago. We both have jobs, so we didn't have much chance to get together anyways. We'll be going to different schools, and I guess we both realized that we wouldn't really miss each other that much. We just kind-of stopped going out." I yawned. I'd been sitting on her bed, and as I started to get up and head for my own room Karen gently took my hand, saying "I miss you, though". I smiled, said "Me, too", and went to bed. ***** That little snatch of conversation was still in my head when I got up the next morning, and I kept thinking about it. It was true, I did miss hanging out with her. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that my sister was a better companion than anyone else I'd ever known. Well, when we went off to school and started sharing an apartment we'd have plenty of each other's company. What I really needed, though, was someone to keep my dick occupied. It was getting harder and harder to look at my sister without that mixture of excitement and guilt you get if you're caught looking at porn. Well, there ought to plenty of choices at a school as big as Barnes. ***** As soon as we'd decided what to do, I started making phone calls to the rental agents on the list the school sent us. I'd narrowed things down to a handful of reasonably-priced places, and the four of us took off to go look at them. Barnes was far enough away that it was an all-day trip, so we stayed over at a motel for a couple of nights while we looked at apartments. We finally settled on one that was walking distance from the campus, barely, but was also on the route of University's 24-hour shuttle service. It was an older small brick building, with only six apartments, but it was clean, secure, and well-maintained. Each apartment came with some basic furnishings: a couch, a bed in each bedroom, and of course the kitchen appliances. There was a laundry room in the basement. Since the only "industry" around was Barnes Tech, everyone was used to having students as tenants and the leases usually started around the same time school did. They were all 12-month leases, though, because the landlords couldn't afford to have their buildings empty three months of the year. You either took summer classes, worked through the summer, or sublet to somebody who did. Karen had already started talking about taking summer classes in order to graduate at the same time I did. (I had transferred some credits from my community college.) It all seemed to be part of her plans, whatever those were. I figured either I would do the same, or I'd try to get a job in town. It wouldn't seem right to move back home and leave her there alone. ***** Our parents would be paying for the apartment, so they went off to take care of the paperwork while Karen and I looked around the place. She didn't seem as happy as she'd seemed on the ride up. Finally she sat down next to me on the couch and looked down at her shoes. "Dave, do you think we'll be able to get along here? I mean, what if one day you get sick of putting up with me, or we have a fight, or something?" It wasn't like her to be so unsure of herself. I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her to me. "Sis, it really won't be that different from living with at home. It's more cramped, but we'll each have our own room. Besides, I can't see me ever getting tired of you. You're my sister, and I love you, plus you're my best friend and I love you for that. You'll probably be the one getting sick of me." "You love me?" "Of course!" I pulled her into a hug and this time I was the one who gave her a kiss on the cheek. Holding her like that, it was all I could do to keep from kissing my way down her neck. She put her head on my shoulder, hugged me even tighter, and gave a quavering sigh. I started to freak. My throat was tightening up again, and I had to break the clinch before I started reacting in other ways. I clasped my hands in my lap to keep them from trembling, and to hide a slight bulge that was starting to form in my pants. I was getting panicky. This was so wrong, but I was afraid I wouldn't be able to control myself. I was so close to screwing things up, and if I did I'd never be able to look at her, or myself, again. She looked me straight in the eye, and asked "So, we're friends?" "Best friends." "Good." She quickly looked away so I couldn't really see her expression, but I thought there was a hint of disappointment where I expected to see satisfaction. Our parents came back and we headed out for dinner. My sister was quieter than usual, and whenever I looked at her she gave me a half-hearted smile. My sister had doubts. Things My Sister Had Ch. 06 Please read the previous chapters. Karen, at the start of chapter 1, had just turned 18; her brother Dave was 20. * My sister had more plans. The summer was over, and we all made the trip up to Barnes. The car was loaded with clothes, electronics, and the usual stuff you take when you're moving. It only took a couple of days to get everything set up, and my sister and I were ready to spend our first night in our new apartment. We said goodbye to our parents at the curb, went upstairs to our apartment, and locked the door behind us for the first time. I sat down on the couch to drink a soda. My sister went into her room to change out of her "moving clothes", and came back out in a couple of minutes wearing yet another pair of her infinite supply of sweats. She didn't look any different than usual, but I couldn't take my eyes off her. We'd lived under the same roof all our lives, yet somehow being "roommates" felt different. It wasn't our parents' house anymore, and we would be setting our own rules. All kinds of emotions started churning within me, but my need for her was rising to the top. I guiltily looked back to my soda, reading the fine print on the label as though I'd find my fortune in it. Karen knelt down on the couch facing me, and looked at me. I turned towards her, and she put her arms loosely around my neck and leaned forward. "Friends?", she said, in a questioning tone as though she wanted me to say something; but I didn't know what to say. Her left breast was just touching my arm. I could feel its warmth, and as she moved to make herself more comfortable it rubbed back and forth. My heart was starting to pound, my breath was getting a little raspy, and my cock was definitely getting ready for deployment. "Friends," I croaked. She leaned in closer, close enough to kiss. She steadied herself by placing one hand on my thigh. We were staring deeply into each others' eyes. Softly, hesitantly, she said "More than friends?" "More than friends," I whispered. I held as still as I could, although I was almost starting to shake with desire and fear. What was she thinking? Was this all in my confused mind or did she feel it too, this sexual tension that had been building within me for months? She had to know I could feel her breast. Why was her hand on my thigh? I wanted to run out of the room, but I also wanted to kiss her, caress her, possess her. Before I could decide which to do, she pulled back and said matter-of-factly "Good. I'll see you tomorrow morning. I'll shower first." She went into her room and closed the door. I went into the bathroom and jerked off until my dick and arm were sore. ***** As I lay in bed, I was in agony. I finally admitted to myself that I was deeply, boundlessly in love with Karen, and now I had to deal with it. This wasn't brother/sister love, and it hadn't been for a long time. Was I out of my mind? Did she feel the same way? She had to. Why else all of these plans? She'd admitted to rigging things so that we'd go to the same school, and I was pretty sure she'd known we'd wind up sharing an apartment. If Dad hadn't suggested it, she probably would have. For all I knew, she had this all in mind way back when she started pushing me to think beyond community college. Then there'd been the hugs and the kisses, long hugs and lingering kisses, the twinge of disappointment when I'd said we were best friends, and then that last goodnight chat I would never forget: her breast pressed so warmly, so softly, and so gently against me; her lips almost touching mine; her hand on my thigh; our eyes locked together as though our souls were drinking from each other. Was this why she was nervous about moving into the apartment? Was she afraid that I didn't love her? Or was she afraid that I did? Maybe she was as confused as I was. I had to know. Feeling more anxious than ever before in my life, I got out of bed and walked through this strange new place to my sister's door. I hesitated for a long time, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, and a floorboard creaked. "Dave, is that you?" Busted. It was too late to turn back. "Yeah, can we talk?" "Come on in." I opened the door and went into her room. Stepping over the threshold was like stepping off a cliff. Whatever would happen next, would happen. She had a nightlight on, and in the dim light I could see her sit up in bed. She patted the mattress, inviting me to sit. She reached out and took my hand, and as she did the sheet fell down into her lap. "What did you want?" "You wear a sports bra to bed?" She chuckled. "It's all about control. It's more comfortable when I sleep." Then she looked down. The expression on her face changed, and she looked frightened. She was still holding my hand, and she hesitantly brought it to her breast. I leaned in and kissed her, on the lips, long and lovingly, while I caressed and gently squeezed her breast. She moaned, and sighed, and as I kissed her face I could taste tears. "You were crying?" "I was afraid you wouldn't come." "How could I stay away?" "Oh, Dave..." She pulled me into another kiss, and we fell back onto the bed together. I kissed her just below her ear, and then I kissed my way down her neck to her shoulder. I found just the right spot, and as I kissed and licked and gently sucked she sighed and ran her fingers through my hair and down my back. I kept kissing around the base of her neck, and then down her chest to the edge of her sports bra. I kissed my way from one side of her chest to the other, right at the edge of her bra, then stopped in the middle for several more kisses. She gently pushed me away. "It comes off for special occasions." She took her bra off, and for the first time I saw the wonders that had started this whole story so many months ago: her glorious breasts. My breathing stopped as I marveled at them, at their roundness, their fullness, the paleness of their skin except where her areolas, pink in the dim light, surrounded small but firmly erect nipples. I had never seen my sister naked. Resisting the urge to bury my face in her bosom, I drew back and looked at the amazing gift that she was: her beautiful face, her slender waist, her smooth white thighs, her gently flaring hips, and the cluster of red curls that hid what would be the greatest gift of all. Lowering myself slowly, supporting my weight with my arms so as not to crush her, I kissed her again. It began gently, so gently, and then grew more passionate as our lips parted and our tongues began to dance. She moaned, I moaned, she put her arms around me and pulled me tighter. I could feel her nipples, surrounded by the pillows of her breasts, pressing into me. She could feel my cock, hard and hot, sandwiched between our bellies. I kissed my way down her neck again, to her shoulder where she loved it so much, sliding my body down hers as I approached her breasts. I kissed around her right breast, and slid down a little lower as I licked the crease beneath it where it joined her chest. My reward was yet another moan, and she whispered my name as she gently ran her hands up and down my sides. I couldn't wait anymore. I moved up slightly and, cupping her breast in my hands, I at last took a nipple in my mouth, sucking gently. She gave a small, sharp cry and pulled my head down to her, urging me on. My dick was nestled in her curls and she began moving her hips, rubbing herself along the underside of my prick as best she could. I could have stayed at her breasts forever, but I wanted this first time to be about her. I started kissing my way down her body again, lower and lower until I reached the small dip between her slightly rounded belly and her hip. As her breathing became heavier, and I could feel my own heart pounding, I kissed my way towards her groin. "Dave, oh God Dave, that feels so good, that feels so good, Dave, oh God..." she whispered. If I hadn't been kissing and licking her beautiful body I would have been calling her name over and over again, singing it to the skies. But as I kissed my way along her inner thighs, heading for her auburn curls, she took my head in her hands and said "No, Dave, not this time, I've waited too long." She gently pulled me up until the tip of my cock, now covered in its own drool, was pressing against her welcoming lips. She was so wet, and the fit was so perfect, that I slid in half way with almost no effort. Out slightly, then slowly in again to the hilt. It was heaven, it was more than heaven. If I hadn't jerked myself off so thoroughly just a little while ago, that would have been the end of me right there. My beloved sister wrapped her legs around me and held me in place, neither of us moving, and again we looked deeply into each other's eyes. I could see tears starting to well up. She saw the concern on my face, and as I started to speak she shushed me with a finger. "I am just so happy, Dave, so happy I can hardly stand it. You feel so good in me, like you've always belonged in me, and I wish we could stay like this forever, not moving, just being full of you, but I can't, I can't hold still any more, I have to..." She slowly began to move her hips, up and down, side to side, gasping with each movement. Sensing her rhythm I started moving with her, deep within her, as our hearts pounded together. Her gasps came faster and faster, louder and louder, and I answered them with my own. It seemed like we would go on forever, me thrusting, her thrusting, rising and falling, in and out, out and in, closer and closer, closer, closer, not quite there but closer and closer, until suddenly we both froze, our groins pressed together as I pushed hard and she pushed back harder, as if we could be joined more deeply, and I exploded within her. Her back arched, her mouth opened in a silent scream, and she thrashed her head and arms about. When we had regained control of our bodies, and I reluctantly withdrew, we lay on our sides and looked at each other — sweaty, exhausted, and smiling. She took my hand. "Stay with me, Dave, please?" "I'm not leaving. This is for keeps." "I know." We kissed softly, and slept in each other's arms. We're well past college now, and we still sleep in each other's arms every night. I had some plans of my own, you see, but that's a story for another day.