This was supposed to be a short one off kind of story, but it didn't turn out that way. Sometimes an idea just gets rooted in your head and it refuses to play by the rules. It decides that it's going to be twice as long as you planned and then it holds you hostage until you start on a second chapter. Sigh. So, here's chapter one. Anyway, please vote, comment, tell your friends, make them vote and comment. ----Shaide
I was five when my little brother decided to make his way into the world, a whole month early. He was healthy though, I remember my dad holding me up to him as he laid in my mom's arms. 'He's so little,' I thought to myself. But I was happy. He had taken his sweet time, but Christopher was finally here. I had named him. I wanted to name him Alex, just like I was Alexandra, but my parents wouldn't let me.
It took forever for them to bring him home. I followed him around everywhere. If someone was holding him, I followed them. If Mom was feeding him, I was there. If Dad was rocking him, I was there. If Uncle Joe was playing with him, I was there. And I always had a spare pacifier in my pocket. I remember one day when we were at the mall and Chris suddenly started crying.
"Mom, something's wrong with Chris."
Mom looked over her son and grimaced. Chris had a really piercing cry. "What," she asked him, finding nothing wrong with him. "What's wrong, baby?"
He didn't answer her, of course. He just kept crying and getting louder and louder. Mom hugged him and rocked him and tried to feed him. That's when I proved myself as a Chrisologist. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my spare pacifier. As soon as he saw it, his eyes locked on and he reached out.
When I was ten, Chris walked into my room and sat on my bed. "I like a girl," he said.
"Just don't pick on her. Bobby Rickers liked me and he pulled my hair every day."
"Okay." He said.
And that was that. Chris and I have always been very open with each other. Even when I started to mature and needed a little more privacy, I never seemed to have a problem when Chris just walked into my room.
When I was sixteen, they let me start dating. Daddy bought me a car and himself a gun. Every boyfriend I ever took home had to meet Mom, Dad, Chris, and Daddy's gun. Mom got me a stun gun. I never had to use it, but she said she felt better with me having it. Not that it mattered, though. I always had Chris as a chaperone.
The first time he said "Awek" I ran around the house screaming for joy. It was close enough for me. As soon as he learned to walk, Chris began following me around. He even followed me into the bathroom. As he got older, I discovered that Chris didn't just talk to me, he talked to mom and dad too. So we had a code. "ANQ." Ask no questions. I figured if he couldn't ask me what was going on, he couldn't say anything about it. And it worked, I said "ANQ" and he knew whatever it was, was between the two of us. He would just turn around and walk away.
He found out the hard way it didn't work in reverse. I came home from school one day to find him trying to sweep up pieces of one of Mom's vases.
"What did you do," I asked calmly.
"Um... ANQ?"
I smiled. 'How cute,' I thought to myself. "What did you do," I asked again.
He looked over at one of those gumball machine bouncy balls sitting on the floor. I smiled at him again. I walked over the corner and took the vase from there and placed it on the end table. Mom never even missed it. And Chris understood that big sister was always there to help him.
When I started dating, Chris went everywhere I went. To the movies, to the park, to the mall. Everywhere. If I was on a date, so was Chris. My boyfriends hated it, but I couldn't deny my little brother anything. He even went out with me and my girlfriends. He was like our little mascot. He knew all our secrets and he never said a word.
My senior year was a magical year. I turned 18, I won a scholarship, and I graduated high school. Chris was devastated when I was told him I was going to college.
"You're leaving me?"
I almost shattered when he looked up at me, his big brown eyes filling with tears. "Well, kind of... But I'll be visiting a lot, and you can call me and email me and send me pictures and all that stuff."
"But why are you leaving? Did I do something?"
"No!" I grabbed him and hugged him to me. "No, sweetie! It's just something I have to do. College is like a really important school, sweetie. I have to go so I can get a good job. One day you'll go too. It's just something I have to do, okay?"
That's when the tears spilled over and he started quietly sobbing into my breasts. "But I don't want you to go."
"I know, sweetie, but I have to. And you'll still see me. On holidays and breaks I'll still come home." I pulled him back and looked into his eyes. "Now I need you to be my big little brother and make sure they don't do anything to my room okay?"
I felt his back straighten as he looked at me, "Okay." I knew how to work my brother. He was my cute, little man. He just needed to do something to make sure I came back and he was all set. But, I swear, I almost broke down looking into those brown eyes of his.
When I moved into my dorm, I was everything. I was excited, scared, anxious, and heartbroken. Everything. Mom sat me down while the Dad and Chris were taking a break outside in the truck. "College is the time to find out who you are as a person. Just promise me that you will ALWAYS use protection. Okay?"
"Okay, Mom."
Dad was another matter. He wasn't quite as accepting of his little girl growing up. He hung up a poster of him with his shotgun in my room. When he hugged me goodbye, he didn't cry, but I could see the tears in his eyes.
My brother was the hardest though. Chris hugged me so tight. "Be my good little brother, okay?"
"I will," Chris smiled up at me. He would be attending my high school next year. I had told all the teachers, the principals, the counselors, the secretaries, I told everyone about him. I even gave them pictures.
Chris didn't cry though. He just smiled and helped me move in.
When they left, I hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. "Laters."
"Laters," he said. "Do good okay?"
"I will," I promised. When I got back to my dorm room, there were tears in my eyes. I was alone, 200 miles away from home, and had no idea what was waiting for me. But I smiled. I wasn't backing down. I had to set a good example for Chris.
The first weekend of college, I discovered my sexuality. His name was Calvin Tivell.
There was a huge welcome party thrown by GPG, one of the frats. All the students got in free and the liquor was flowing. I went with my dorm mate, but she disappeared as soon as the doors opened. Byron was everything college boys were supposed to be. He was handsome, charming, and witty. His eyes locked onto me as soon as I walked in the door.
I was nervous at first, but the more he talked to me, the calmer I got. And the calmer I got, the more I drank. Guys kept trying to approach me, but Calvin was like a buffer zone. When some guy seemed to be getting too close, he would dance me to another part of the room. He was so smooth.
He actually cut me off. "I think you've had enough," he said with a smile. "Let me walk you back to your dorm." Of course I did. He was such a gentleman, how could I say no?
He held my hand the entire way and invited himself up. When I opened the door he just walked right in. It wasn't rude or anything. We just weren't ready for the night to end.
He turned the radio on and we sat and we talked. Before I knew it, he leaned over and kissed me softly on the lips. He laid back on the bed and pulled me along with him, our tongues twirling around each other. I felt his hands under the hem of my shirt, sliding it up. I sat up and took both the shirt and my bra off.
He unbuttoned his own shirt and we reconnected. His hands were all over me, my back my breasts, my ass. He rolled me over and started sucking and playing with my breasts. I was so into what his mouth was doing, I didn't even notice him unbuttoning and sliding my pants down. God, I was so hot!
I didn't know I was naked until he slid his finger into me. I started moaning and pulled his head even deeper into my breasts. He fingered me until I orgasmed.
It was the first orgasm that I didn't give myself. I laid back and was basking in the afterglow when I felt his dick beginning to slide between my lips. He looked down into my eyes, kissed me, and slid it home. I tensed up as he broke through me. He stopped and looked down to see the trickle of blood flowing out of me. "I'll be gentle," he whispered into my ear.
He slowly began again. His lips on mine, his hands working my breasts, his dick sliding in and out of me. God it felt good. This is what I had been waiting for, and it was worth the wait. This was sex.
It was hot and messy. I could feel every inch of his sweat soaked body on mine, my juices leaking out on his cock. Even the air was scented with our lust. I loved it. I loved how it felt, how it made me feel. His eyes looking into mine, seeing the pleasure in them, knowing it was all because of me.