Day four of a long, slow, summer back at our parents' house, and by now, Joyce and me were bored out of our skulls. Time to shake things up.
"Joyce?"
"...?"
"Remember when we played that game we called 'all-day opposite'? Like, literally, all day?"
"Um. No..."
"Really? We played that game religiously as kids. We were obsessed. You don't remember?"
"No." A smile played at the corners of her mouth.
"It's the one where everything you say has to be the opposite of what - "
"Ethan. I said: I, don't, remember." She set her fork down and folded her hands under her chin.
"Oh... hah! Yeah. I get it..."
"I never did like that game." Her smile curled up one side of her face.
"Hah, me neither," I smiled back. Our eyes met. Challenge accepted! I was ready to draw first blood. "Guess I'm on for doing the dishes then?"
"Dammit!" She slapped her palm on the table and scowled.
I smiled contentedly, sipped my beer and watched as she cleared the table and ran water in the sink.
I decided to try one of my old tricks. Sometimes, this ended the game before it had barely begun. I crept up behind her at the sink and poked her in the love handles with both hands.
"Ah!" She jumped and flung her arms and a puff of dish suds spattered the window. "Don't Ethan!"
"Hah!" I wagged my finger at her. "You win!"
"Ugh!" She yelled and stamped her foot, a petulant look on her face.
Then a different look came over her. A sneaky look. "I said, don't touch me! The game's already over!"
I raised my eyebrows at her. I made my hands into claws and stretched them out slowly toward her waist, giving her plenty of notice that I was coming in for the tickle. She didn't move.
"I'm not even warning you," she said. "Don't!" She was fighting a smile, but she also sounded pretty convincing about not wanting me to touch her. I took a step forward, arms outstretched, closing the distance.
She spun away squealing and took off into the living room and I zoomed after her. I caught her above the hips with both hands, my fingers sliding up under her t-shirt, and her squeal morphed into a giggle fit. "Stop! Stop!" She cried when she caught her breath. "I mean it!"
I immediately stepped back, hands above my head. I was sure I had her then. But after her laughter subsided, she said, dead serious, "Don't push me Ethan. Don't touch me again."
My questioning look must have faltered, and she stepped into the breach with a new... invitation? A dare? "Don't even try to catch me."
"Or... what?"
"Or... you'll regret it." Her smile had turned devilish. "You will regret it very deeply." Hmm. When had my sister gotten so good at this game? What wouldn't I regret?
"Oh well," I shrugged. "Can't say as I'm all that interested."
She turned away and started walking slowly toward the front foyer. She glanced back over her shoulder at me and I got a sudden, dangerous thrill from that one green eye peering at me through her dishevelled hair. Then she took off for the stairs, and I ran after.
Her feet skipped lightly up the steps, three ahead of me. The backs of her bare thighs shone golden in the light from the chandelier. The dangerous thrill I felt before intensified.
She zipped down the hall and into her bedroom. She tried to close the door behind her, but I was too quick. I pushed my way in and she tumbled further into the room, falling back on the bed.
"No!" She yelled. "You can't!" She slid her butt back on the bed and bent her knees up in front of her. One of the straps of her tank top had slipped off.
"What?" I said. I was grinning, but my grin started to feel weird. It wasn't matching up with how I felt inside as I looked at my sister. With her knees hugged up against her like that, I could see a bit of her pale blue panties through the leg hole of her running shorts. I think my smile may have been turning into a leer.
"I'm not going to do anything, I promise," I said, creeping toward the bed. "I'm certainly not about to touch you. I would never put my hands on my own sister..." Saying that made my throat clench and I gulped for air.
There seemed to be honest panic in her eyes and again I faltered, froze, waited.
She said in a trembling voice, "Just not my feet ok?" I looked down at her feet, tiny nails painted a rosy red. My dick flinched. I looked from her feet to her face and back to her feet. She wriggled her toes ever so slightly and that was all I needed.
I dropped heavily onto the bed and seized one of her feet in both hands. She screamed and kicked me with her free leg, but I held fast. I tickled the bottom of her foot and she arched her back and tried to writhe away, twisting first one way then the other. I tickled and tickled. She was screaming and laughing. "No, stop! Stop! Ethan stop!"
"I'm not doing anything! What? I'm not even touching you!"
She tried to pry my hands off her foot with her other foot, wriggling her toes against my fingers. I got the impression she wanted me to give that foot some attention too, so I dropped the first foot and grabbed the other. She started writhing all over again, squealing like crazy. Her shirt had ridden up with all that slithering around on the bed, and I got some flashes of the underside of her bare boobs. They were really jiggling around.
She was using her free foot to push against me. It had started up on my chest and then wriggled its way down, and now she had it buried in my crotch, and my cock was hard as hell in my jeans. She kept grinding her toes into my thigh and cock.
I started to move my hands up her leg, lightly massaging and tickling her calf as I went. She slowed down with all the writhing and squirming. She was panting like crazy. Her tits were heaving under her tank top, which was twisted around her. I was moving one hand up each leg now.
"Stop," Joyce panted, her face turned away from me toward the back wall. Her hair was sweat-plastered all over her cheek. "I can't take any more!"
And then she said something that made my heart skip and blood surge into my dick. I was sure my jeans would tear under the strain.
"I... I... don't want you... to do that... I don't want you... touching my body. Take your hands off my body... just... stop touching me..."
I stared down at her all twisted on the bed, her breathing more under control but still heavy. I climbed onto the bed and spread her legs around me as I knelt in front of her. I gripped each of her thighs with a new intensity.
"Ohhhh," she groaned, head still turned away. "Stop, Ethan. Don't."
