There was a score, no, twenty-three, of us older teenagers, chaperoned by my sister-in-law, on the sandy shore. I had the real hots for her, I can tell you—if she was five years older’n me. I saw that she had begun to sniff the air and look odd.
"What'sa matta, Sis? You look sick." I thought she was suddenly dizzy. I really didn’t want her being sick so that my party would be spoiled for her.
"Walt, come up to the house with me, soon's we can." she murmured into my hot, hot ear. "Fake a cut, or a splinter. Then ... it would look like I was helpin’..."
"I got ya, Sis," I whispered back, "O K!
"Oh, hell! I've got a splinter in my foot!" I muttered after a few minutes. "I'm gonna go up to the house to see can I take it out, 'n' put somethin’ on it."
There was an odd smell in the air, not like marsh gas, but like...sexy sweat, sorta. No one looked up, they were all busy trying to make out.
I started across the beach, limping almost too much. As I passed Sis, she said,
"Walt, I'd better help you up to the house; wait a sec".
I helped her up and I smelled her damp bikini—and something else; she smelled like summer sunshine, heat and—that odd scent.
Sis "helped" me over the knoll, until we were out of sight in the big house and on the second floor, into the suite Leila and my brother had. They even had their own kitchen and livingroom. Grandmum and Grandad had never let me go in there while my brother was away, but Sis said, when I hung back, "Come aw-n, all I'm doin' is helpin' you get a ‘splinter’ out of your foot! The bandages are in here. Besides, Gammie and Granda are away for a month, 'n' Gene's out of the country—’n’ it’s your party, ‘n’ I’m in charge, right?" She grinned, and I felt real warm.
"Yeah, Sis, right. Don't think any of the gals and guys'll come up, do you?" I asked, hopefully. She grinned.
"Not with the booze I left down there, they won't. I saw Cherie and Ralph find it and let the rest know! If they want to pee or make out they’ll go in the bushes!" The way Sis said that made me think she'd planned this. That got my prick even harder. She was kneeling in front of me, pretending to look for the splinter, I guess, her head down. I could see the tops of her rounded breasts, all but the nipples. She looked up at me, a strange look on her face.
"Walt, I really feel sorta—funny. Did you smell anything strange at the beach?" she asked me, licking her lips a little. I saw one hand sneak to her crotch.
"No—yeah...I did! Sis, it's just...well...are you...kinda ...real bothered, like me?" I rubbed on the bulge in my trunks—couldn't help myself, I was so horny.
"Yeah, brud," she said, shaking her head a little, "I am kinda...hot. There was some kinda smell that made me feel really...funny...just before I told you to fake the splinter. So you smelled it?" She leaned even farther forward, her bikini top falling away from her breasts. I could feel my rod pulse with desire. I know she did that deliberately.