My older sister and I always struggled to get along. It was more than the normal sibling rivalry you might expect from two sisters, only separated by 18 months. From as far back as I could recall we'd actively disliked each other. It wasn't helped by the fact that we were quite different physically.
Laura was shorter by two inches, had dark brown hair and an olive complexion. While she was very attractive, with a curvaceous body; but she was flat chested. A fact I constantly reminded her of. On the other hand I had strawberry blonde hair, pale skin tone, with freckles across my shoulders and cheek bones. Laura teased me with all the usual red head taunts. I was slimmer and more athletic than her, with a nice sized bust. We teased each other mercilessly about each other's looks.
"You must have been adopted," being our favourite taunt.
We both felt our parent's favoured the other and we would be very forthright in stating this. I think it's one of the reasons our father left when we were in our early teens. His departure didn't make us quieten down. If anything it made us worse. It was our mother who suffered the most.
This extreme jealousy wasn't shown to the outside world, apart from close friends. Both Laura and I were popular and had our own circles we mixed in. We'd been raised Christian, but after our father left she became a little more edgy in her lifestyle. Once that happened, it was a near certainty that I would make a conscious effort to move in the opposite direction.
Some of my friends were closely involved in the Church; so I became a full blown Christian. This included being baptised for a second time. This allowed me a moral high ground and I used it to denigrate my sister and her lifestyle choices, every chance I got.
Throughout our teens I was the one who went with nice church boys, arrived home on time and didn't experiment with alcohol or drugs. Laura on the other hand went through an extended partying phase. Toward the end of high school she hooked up with Ray Turner, a 'bad boy' from the wrong side of the tracks, three years her senior. Our mother was horrified.
"Oh dear; this would never have happened if your father was still around," she would say.
"Yeah; your headed straight to hell, you harlot," I would chip in, being at that time, right at the height of my religious zeal.
Ray was a good looking boy, with black wavy hair, he often went unshaven. He liked his dark shirts and leather jackets. He had a glint in his eye and was the epitome of a rebel. Despite my Christian leanings I couldn't help but notice his good looks. As usual with me and my sister, jealousy reared its head.
Sometimes Ray would catch my gaze lingering a bit too long. He'd smile at me knowingly and I'd blush bright red. As time went on he began to return the looks and give a little raised eyebrow. I'd hurriedly look away in embarrassment and determined he was the most sinful boy I'd ever encountered.
"They deserve each other and they're going directly to hell," I decided; but the attraction remained.
I'd begun going with Andrew Baker; a blond wholesome boy, from a good Christian family. Our mother was delighted. At this point, there were many arguments between my mother and Laura. I was easily winning the sibling battle.
Unfortunately for me, as time passed, Ray Turner showed some redeeming features. Being good looking and a smooth talker he got a job in sales. He appeared to care for Laura and after two years together they announced their engagement. She was 19, he was 22 years old.
By then the tables had turned. I felt Laura had begun to overshadow me in our mother's eyes. This continued through to their wedding, after which they moved into an apartment of their own. Laura was soon pregnant and all the talk was about building a home for their new family. I soon became tired of hearing about it.
The one good thing about their marriage and building a home was it placed me at home, alone with mother. I made the most of this. For a brief while I was again the number one daughter, staying home and seemingly leading a pure lifestyle.
However, I'd turned 18 years old and it was my final year in High School. I was starting to become increasingly ambivalent about the wholesome Christian life I'd been leading for six years. I'd been with Andrew for over two years. Tall blond and handsome he might have been, but by 18 years old I wanted a bit more from our relationship.
During our first year together Andrew and I had never ventured beyond kissing. To be fair these kisses gradually became quite passionate affairs. However there could be no acknowledgment of this, because arousal outside of marriage was frowned upon by our church. As the second year of our relationship progressed a number of things occurred.
First, I became increasingly aware of the sensations our kissing engendered in me. At first these embarrassed me and I did my best to quell them. However, as time went on I began to relax and enjoy them more. My nipples would tingle and harden, and I'd get a pleasurable ache in my lower stomach. To accentuate these sensations I began to push my breasts into Andrews's chest and attempt to manoeuvre my groin onto his thigh.
Second, some of my Christian friend's boyfriends were willing to go much further than Andrew. My friends were not slow in informing me of this. Hands on breasts soon became hands inside bras. In the case of my friend Sandy the bra was soon being discarded. When she told me she had touched her boyfriend's penis I'd feigned shock, but was secretly envious. I wanted to explore Andrew's body.
I decided to get bolder with him and initiated talk about touching. I invited him to touch my breasts, over my blouse and bra. Andrew agreed and the first time he did it I'd shuddered and groaned. Andrew became uncomfortable at this overt display of enjoyment.
"It's sinful," he'd say, although I noted he didn't stop altogether.
When we were kissing standing up I'd push myself into him and feel his hardness on my stomach. It didn't frighten me; I loved it. I was pleased that being with me made my man erect. Unfortunately Andrew continued to refuse to go any further and my frustration grew.
After my High School year group had graduated, my friend Sandy told me she had celebrated this by having sex with her boyfriend.
"What; you were naked and touching?" I asked.
"Yes! I was so wet and slippery down there. He just slipped his cock into me. Ann Marie; you wouldn't believe. It was just the greatest feeling, to have a man inside of me."
"Oh Sandy; you shouldn't have. You've sinned," I said, my nipples like hard pebbles like at hearing her story.
"Don't be such a prude Anny. Mike and I are going to marry one day, so it's all right," she said, justifying her behaviour.
Another friend, Abby, told me a similar story. She didn't refer to it as a 'cock' and her boyfriend hadn't put it in her, but they'd masturbated each other to a mutual orgasm. As she described this I'd become weak in the legs and had to sit down.
Pleasuring yourself was a sin, let alone pleasuring each other before marriage. My mind was in turmoil. It didn't seem fair that my friends were getting these experiences and I was missing out. I was now desperate for Andrew and me to move on with our sexual relationship.
Not all of my friends were moving in this direction. Both Sarah and Courtney were still merely kissing and happy to do so. However I found myself less interested in those two and gravitating more toward Sandy and Amy.
It was at this point, in mid-summer, that problems developed in Laura's pregnancy. My mother constantly dwelt on this.
"She'll do anything to steal back the limelight," I thought to myself.
Then Laura was told to bed rest. Immediately my mother made an offer for both her and Ray to move home, so he could continue to work and mother and I could care for Laura.
"I have no intention of being tied up all day caring for her," I told my mother spitefully.
"Oh, Ann Marie. For a Christian you certainly have a cold heart," my mother said.
"Only when it comes to her."
"Anyway, it's decided. It's my house, my grandchild and she's coming home to rest."
"But we both work," I said, bringing my part-time job at the takeaway chicken shop into the equation.
"We'll manage," my mother replied dismissively
So Ray and Laura moved home. Fortunately, Laura only occasionally rose from her bed, so I didn't have to see her often. Who I did see regularly was Ray. He would come home; see to Laura when she called and spend the rest of his time in the lounge watching sport. I'd sit on the other sofa reading, but couldn't help but glance his way far too often.
"Golly he is handsome," was my most regular thought; with the second being, "Laura doesn't deserve anyone that handsome and attentive."
I now found my thoughts began drifting more often to Ray than they did to Andrew. Some of these thoughts were not what a good Christian girl should be thinking and they caused me much conflict.
My friend Sandy was now really beginning to rebel. Not only sex, but drinking as well. One evening at her house she offered me a drink.
