Many thanks to my First Reader and Sexy Editor.
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When my sister Renee got home for the Christmas break, I was masturbating in her childhood bedroom. It wasn't some fetish thing. I had arrived home the day before for a begrudging family holiday, and found that my old room was occupied. My parents had had one of their classic explosive arguments, and my father had been exiled to my room. So, for the first night of my holiday visit, I slept in my sister's bed.
"Dennis, we'll figure it out when your sister gets here," Mom had said in her stop-asking-me-questions-or-so-help-me tone, when I asked about the sleeping arrangements. From her general mood, I doubted that forgiving my father would be part of the deal.
That first night was awkward. Ever since I left for college, I questioned every decision to return home. At least while Renee had been living there, I'd had a buddy to play video games with in the den while our parents either pretended to like each other or very loudly did not pretend.
For a couple hours that night, they pretended. I fielded the usual "how's life" questions, dodging topics of romance (I was excessively single) and work (dull). By the end of dinner, the facade was wearing thin. Dad stood without a word, cleared his dish, and retreated to my room.
I helped Mom clear the table. We didn't say much, which was typical for us. When things were cleaned up, she went to her room and shut her door.
It was barely past eight in the evening, and I was left alone with most of the house to myself. As I had when I had been living here, I spent my time in the den.
The den is down a set of stairs at one end of the kitchen. It is at the opposite end of the house from every other room, making it ideal for rambunctious sleep-overs growing up. All of our game systems were set up in there, and there was an old, soft couch that was perfect for curling up on. A couple of armchairs sat on either side of the couch.
One day, during my senior year of high school, Dad had come home with an enormous TV. This had sparked an intense series of arguments, but it had also given me and Renee a new refuge. Whenever our parents had a fight, we'd head downstairs and drown out the shouting with some Soul Calibur or Time Splitters.
I spent a couple of hours blasting splitters. Before I headed to bed, I took a picture of my feet up on the ottoman, with a mission cleared screen in the background. I texted it to Renee, along with Can't wait to see you. It's not the same without you.
I was brushing my teeth when my phone dinged. Can't wait to see you, too, bro ;), Renee had replied. As I lay down to sleep, something about the ';)' tickled my brain. I lay awake under my sister's sheets, surrounded by her old boy band posters and stuffed animals, trying not to believe that the winky face had subtext. I was asleep before I could figure it out.
The next morning, I woke with my head on the very edge of the bed. I was sporting half an erection, after some interesting dreams featuring Mrs. Claus and my sister. When I opened my eyes, I could see down the crack between my sister's bed and the night stand. A small lock-box, adorned with cute stickers, was wedged between the furniture. Curiosity took control, and I reached down and pulled the box out. It was locked with a three-digit code. I thumbed the latch absentmindedly, as I tried to inhabit my sister's mind to guess her code.
The box popped open. My sister hadn't scrambled the code.
I felt suddenly guilty as I looked in the box. I wasn't sure what private things I was about to discover, but when I saw what was in there, I was instantly rock hard.
On top was a photograph of my sister in red lingerie, spreading her legs on her bed, the same bed I had just slept in. One hand was on her breast, and the other was just sliding under her lace panties. I could tell that the panties and bra were see-through, but the lighting in the photograph was too dim for me to see anything, and just dim enough for me to imagine everything. Without thought, I took myself in hand and began to stroke.
Like I said, I didn't have a thing for my sister. At least, I hadn't up to that point. I was young, just two years out of college, and I would just get turned on, particularly when I saw images of scantily clad women. My penis wasn't concerned that it was my sister.
And in my morning haze, with horny Christmas dreams on my mind, I wasn't concerned either.
As I was stroking myself, I looked back in the box and saw a notebook labeled Freshman Year. I took it out and flipped it open to an early page. The date at the top placed the entry in my sister's first term of college.
I had a weird dream about my brother, she wrote. We were in the pool, messing around like we used to, but we were naked. And then I dove under the water and saw his dick, and it was big, and hard, and all I could think about was putting it in my-
"Ahem!"
I must have leapt two feet off the bed. Standing in the doorway, suitcase in hand, watching me jack off while reading her diary, was my sister. She was wearing leggings and a chunky hoodie; comfortable travel clothes. Her hair, which frequently changed color, was dyed midnight blue, and fell to her shoulders. She looked at me with a knowing smirk.
I tried to stammer out an excuse, but there was no way "It's not what it looks like" was going to work. I was completely naked, and my cock had gotten harder with my sister's sudden attention. I tried to cover it with the diary, but my penis was longer than the small book. The tip poked over the top.
"Having fun?" my sister asked. She seemed very calm for the situation, and surprised me by stepping into the bedroom and closing the door behind her. "Read anything interesting?"
I was speechless. Renee seemed unfazed by the sight of me resting her diary on my throbbing cock. She came to the bed and sat on the edge, casually glancing at the tip of my penis. "What part did you read?"
I couldn't find words. Was I supposed to say The part where you dreamed of sucking my cock in the pool? To my sister?