Big Tits On Lil Sis Ch 03

Sam was gone when I woke up, later even than usual, and the house was quiet. I went into the kitchen and couldn't find anybody. I saw through the window that Sam was laying out on the dock on her belly. I thought about shouting to her to see if she wanted breakfast, but changed my mind. I had a little mental processing yet to do.

I started a fire in the woodstove and sat down to watch it grow. It had occurred to me overnight, maybe in a dream or just subconsciously, that I had maybe taken a little bit of advantage of Sam. She had seemed so sweet and innocent the first time she showed me her breasts, and then last night fast as lightning had graduated to sexual contact like it was nothing. I hadn't said anything to really object to her, even though in my less-horny moments I generally grappled with the sensation that what I was doing was wrong.

Jerking off to her tits was fine, I had reasoned. It was natural human curiosity and innocent sexuality. She said herself they were just tits. I couldn't comfort myself with that excuse any longer. Last night my sister blew me. I have committed incest.

I put a kettle and a frying pan on the stove as the flames grew, waiting for the cast iron to heat up before getting anything ready to eat.

I think what had really bothered me in the night was the way Sam had seemed so kind of resigned about herself in relation to her tits. She'd said she'd felt like she was just a pair of tits to come on, and it certainly seemed from how she told her stories that a lot of her experience had inculcated that feeling deep within her.

Was I no better than any other guys? I wondered. Here I was, ostensibly an older brother, and the last two nights it seemed to me I treated my sister the way like a horny 18-year-old. I ought to have been better.

But then I played it all back in my mind, first her teasing and flashing me, and then the way she had just attached herself to me last night, and I knew that I was hooked. Forget that I was as weak a man as any, and just as susceptible to seduction. Forget that I was a man with a special weakness for larger chests on petite women. Forget that I was hypersexual and already at the mercy of my too-strong libido. Sam's breasts were the best I'd seen, in real life or fantasy, and I was a lost sailor adrift on the sea of her burgeoning sexuality. I watched her lying on the dock, wanting for all the world to be a better brother, but weak as a man.

***

After a quick breakfast of tea and fried eggs I finally noticed the note from Mom on the table. 'Dad and I have taken the canoe for the day,' it read. 'Relax. Take care of each other.' I swallowed the last of my breakfast and walked down to the talk, resolutely determined to do just that.

"Hey," I called to Sam as I approached, "Mom and Dad are gone for the day. It's just us here." She stretched her arms and yawned loudly, and I was afraid for a minute I might have woken her up.

"I know," she said, sounding groggy. "I saw the note as well."

"Okay," I said, "I have a fire up in the stove. Did you want me to make you something for breakfast?"

"No thanks," she said, rolling over. My jaw dropped wide as I realized she was topless, her huge mounds riding up on her chest and coming to rest heavily near her armpits. "I already ate." She smiled widely at me.

"Okay," I said, too immediately shocked to form much of a coherent sentence. She giggled a little as I gawked openly at her bared breasts. "Did you forget something this morning?"

"No," she said, "I thought we decided modesty was pretty much out of the cards for us at this point? Plus, you were making fun of me for only ever wearing bikinis yesterday, so I figured I'd change it up while Mom and Dad aren't around. Go with the monokini look today."

"Yeah," I said, still staring. "This is different."

"I think I like it better," she said, "It definitely feels better. More natural. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Yeah," I said, "More natural. Better."

"Besides," she said, "I hate tanlines. It's good you came out here when you did. Can you rub this tanning oil on me?"

I was ready to throw myself at the opportunity, and as I watched her reach over to grab the bottle of tanning lotion, I marveled at how immediately I had already stumbled in my resolve to treat her more sisterly.

"Sam," I asked, "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, lowering her sunglasses with her free hand and meeting my eyes directly. "I'm just out here getting a tan. What are you doing?"

"Nothing," I said, "I don't know. It just seems like having me rub tanning lotion on you might be a bit... inappropriate." She smirked at me.

"You think rubbing tanning lotion on me is the line where things get inappropriate?"

"I don't know. I guess it's something you could just as easily do yourself."

"Oh my god," she said, "It's like you never got a massage before. Yeah, I could rub oil on myself. It's not hard. But I asked you because it always feels nicer to have someone else give you a rub down. So what do you say?" She accentuated her question by squirting lotion from the bottle all over the top of her breasts, "Help a girl out?"

You can probably tell already that I am a man of phenomenally weak resolve, and that not just the sight of her tits covered in white cream, and the opportunity to get more intimately familiar with her glorious breasts themselves, but also the tone of her voice decided that it would be impossible for me to resist. I was already half-hard just from hearing her invite me to massage her, and with a little contented sigh of resignation I knelt in between her legs and readied my hands.

I placed them at first onto the lotion atop the fleshy mounds of fat that were her ample breasts. I kneaded gently into her skin, before swirling in teasing circles - teasing whom, I couldn't say - gradually decreasing my orbit until I circled in on her nipples, danced my fingers gently over her areolas before pinching her hardening little nips between my thumb and forefinger. I squeezed her breasts fully, and capped it off with a pull on her hard nipples that raised her breasts out to meet me. It took all of my resolve to keep from burying my face in her chest right there.

She didn't seem to mind my focusing on her breasts. It was hard to read her eyes behind her big sunglasses, but from the tilt of her head and the slight gape in her mouth, I gathered she was enjoying the attention. It occurred to me that Sam enjoyed showing off maybe as much or more than I enjoyed appreciating her. Unable to help myself, I leaned in and flicked her nipple with my tongue. I watched as she shuddered a bit with the touch. Once again, she didn't seem to mind. I certainly enjoyed it, except for the taste of the tanning lotion.

When it seemed that I had done all I could with her breasts, I reluctantly moved down, rubbing what oil was left into her little stomach. Sam was by no accounts ripped, but there was tone and definition visible in the fleshy swell of her tummy. When I really worked it into the sides of stomach, I could feel the hard muscles of her abs. I worked up and down each side of her stomach, and I could feel her struggling to keep from breaking into a giggle-fit. I watched her breasts bounce idly up and down on her chest when her composure broke.

I passed over the sides of her bikini bottoms, and was running out of oil on my hands, when an absurd idea struck me and wouldn't go uncontested.

"Since you hate tan lines," I said, "We may as well get rid of these, right?" I tugged gently on her bottoms to illustrate my point.

I felt Sam tense up as she considered the question. I hadn't seen or felt her react like that before, and I immediately regretted my lack of tact and discernment and general brotherly composure.

"I don't know," she said after what felt like forever, "I mean, I do hate tan lines, but I don't know if you could handle yourself if I was lying here naked."

"Hmm," I pondered, "What are you afraid will happen?"

"I don't know. For all I know, you'll rip your shorts off and rape me," she said, "We couldn't have that. Don't want to let things get out of hand."

"I'm down here, rubbing your tits, and I'm not raping you yet. I'd say I have pretty decent composure, considering," I lied.

"Mhm," she said, "But those are just tits. There's nothing to them." She looked down, and I could see over the top of her lenses that her eyes were studying the tent in my shorts. "Maybe I just like to tease you, is all," she said.

"Yesterday you sucked me off," I said, "I think that qualifies as a little bit more than teasing." She returned her gaze to my eyes and smiled at me.

"That was just practice," she said, "Nothing to it."

"You let me jerk off to you the other night," I said, "Is that still teasing?"

"I guess not," she said, "I like to watch men come. Why? Are you feeling backed up again?"

"Hanging out with you like this has me backed up all the time," I said.

"Should I cover up?" she asked, "Would that help?"

"No," I said, "God no."

"Do you want to jerk off, then?" she asked, "Is that what it takes to keep you from raping me?"

I'm not proud of what I said next, but I submit it here in the name of accuracy:

"Yes," I said, "It just might."

Only instead of being disgusted, like I thought she would be, Sam kind of smiled at me. And instead of being horrified or scared or angry, she kept her eyes even with mine.

"Do you want to come on my tits?" she asked. "They looked nice with the lotion on them, didn't you think?"

"They did," I said.

"Do you want to fuck them?" she asked, "They're big enough."

And then I didn't have time to answer before the phone rang. The only piece of modern technology we had in the whole cabin, and it was loud enough that we could hear it even as far away as the dock.

"Yeah," I said, "I want to fuck them."

"You have to get the phone," she said, "Dad's on call."

***

So our Dad works for the government in the capacity of someone you might call a scab. There was a public sector strike going on in one of the non-essential service unions, and my Dad had decided better to play it safe with his new job than to risk losing it for a union he wasn't technically protected by. That meant that, if he was needed, weekend or holiday, he was still technically on call. That was the nature of the telephone call I received, and I took down a message asking my dad to report in at 10 am the next day. Pissed as I was being interrupted during my time with Sam, I felt even worse for my Dad, who despite seeming cranky yesterday, really did deserve to have at least a week without having to think of work again.

When I got back out to the river, Sam was in the water, up to her neck. I swam out to greet her.

"Why'd you get in the water?" I tried to ask without seeming desperately horny and unfinished, "I thought we were tanning you."

"You're not very bright, are you," she said. She leaned her head backwards over shoulder towards a canoe in the distance, "That's Mom and Dad, coming back early."

"Oh," I said, "Wonderful. Dad's going to love hearing he's got to get back to work tomorrow."

"Mom's not going to be happy either," Sam said.

"Did you get your top back on?" I asked. She grinned mischievously.

"See for yourself," she said, and she jumped out of the water just high enough for me to get a flash of her still-bare breasts.

"Oh, you tease," I said, swimming closer to her, groping hands at the ready.

"Nuh uh," she teased me, backstroking just out of my reach. "Not here or now. Think what dad would say to that, on top of everything else."

She was right, of course. And even though my balls were turning bluer than the sky we were swimming under, I was at least a little bit grateful that we'd been interrupted when we did. Much as I like to tell myself otherwise, I felt right then like I was really ready to let things get a little out of control.

***

"How's the water?" Mom called from the canoe, once they were in shouting distance.

"It's great," Sam shouted back, "Haven't you been swimming?"

"Not yet," Mom called back. I was treading water a few feet from Sam, and we watched as Mom stood up as straight as she could in the canoe, shirked off her life jacket to stand in just the little black bikini she was wearing, and make a perfect swan dive into the water. The canoe shook back and forth from the motion, and I watched my Dad try to settle it from the back.

"How was the fishing today?" I asked, "Catch any more big ones?"

"There was no fishing today," he said, "Today was more about exploration. Just, you know, touring the river. Seeing what was the same, and what was different."

"Well how was that?"

"Meh," he said, "Everything was still the same."

"Speaking of," I said, "More of the same from work. Adrian called. You're supposed to be at the office for 10 o'clock tomorrow."

"You're kidding," he said, pulling the canoe against the dock. I pulled myself out of the water to help him tie it up.

"Nope," I said, "He called here himself, not fifteen minutes ago."

"Jesus Christ," he said, "What time is it now?"

"Almost four in the afternoon."

"Jesus Christ," he said again. "Well, that's that."

Dad rushed in for a quick shower while I made him some oatmeal on the stove. Mom and Sam kept swimming, only shouting cursory goodbyes as he waved from the porch and then made straight for the car. With that, Sam and Mom and I were left alone at the cabin.

Since I was at the stove anyways, I made fish from the fridge and preserves on the side for everyone. I brought plates out for each of us, and started a campfire for us to eat by.

"Dinner's ready," I called without thinking, sitting down to watch the fire. Mom and Sam slowly swam in from the river, and then started slogging through the water once they reached shallow enough that their feet could touch. I realized only too late, as I watched Mom's shoulders and chest emerge while Sam ducked down, nearly crawling through the water, that she still didn't have any top on. I panicked, and quickly looked around for anything she could cover up with.

But then she just stood, towering out of her water from the waist up. I watched, agog, as water streamed off the flesh of her chest, first quickly and then in slower little droplets that ran gently from the top of her chest down to her nipple before dropping back into the river. Sam shook her hair, and her chest shook as well. Then she just kept walking out of the river, a few steps behind Mom, as naturally as anything in the world.

Mom didn't seem to notice until they were both a few steps up the beach. Then, while she was wringing her hair out, she did a quick double take.

"Oh, Sam, honey," Mom said, "You're not dressed."

"It's fine, Mom. I was tanning."

"But you're brother's here."

"Oh, he doesn't care," Sam protested, "They're just tits. I'm sure he's seen tits before."

"I don't know. It's not decent."

"Chris," Sam called to me, "Do you care if I tan topless?"

"I don't care," I said, keeping my eyes on my plate, "I hardly notice."

"He doesn't care," Sam said, "I don't care. Do you care?" she asked Mom. Mom looked uneasy for a short moment, and then just sighed.

"I guess not. Let's go get our food while it's still hot."

They each took a plate I prepared, and Mom sent me to the cabin to fetch a bottle of wine. I felt like she wanted to have words with Sam about nudity and decency without me present, but when I returned with a bottle of red Sam still hadn't put a top on. We poured a glass of wine each and sat down to a quiet dinner. I made certain to keep my eyes on my food in order not to look as distracted as I was by Sam's enormous breasts presiding over our meal.

After dinner we finished pouring the wine and watching the sun slowly drop, glimmering on the river on its way behind the horizon.

"It's a real shame Dad had to go so soon," Sam said, looking at Mom.

"Mhm," Mom said, only nodding along.

"I'm sure he'll be back before long," Sam offered by way of support. "I know this trip meant a lot to you two."

"Oh, I'm sure," Mom said, "I'm sure."

I hadn't realized how deeply my Mom had changed since I'd last been close with her. She looked and behaved very much the same as always, except with more heaviness, as if time itself had been hanging its grains from her heart. It made me feel sad, and between the sadness and the desperation not to get caught ogling my topless sister, I made an excuse to leave after my third glass.

I stayed up in bed waiting for Sam to come in, but when she did, she came with Mom. I watched through the crack of our door as Sam grabbed another bottle of wine, and joined my Mom in her bedroom, all without ever reaching for her top. In fact, I saw the bikini top that matched the bottoms she was wearing laid out near the bottom of her bed, looking discarded.

I fell asleep waiting for her to come back, wondering what they could possibly be getting up to in my Mom's bedroom, topless, and with a bottle of wine. It must have been my imagination that planted the sounds of squeaking bedsprings in my head.

***

The room was still empty when I woke the next morning. The kitchen was empty, and I saw my Mom sitting down by the fire with all the breakfast stuff, still wearing the same bikini she was wearing yesterday. It was early, and the sun still hadn't come up from behind the low-hanging clouds. I quietly crept out of the house and joined my mother by the fire.

"You're up early," she said as I approached, "Want some breakfast?"

"Sure," I said, "You're up early too. What's up?"

"Oh, I just couldn't sleep," she said, "You know. Worrying about your father. Sam and I were up late talking, so I figured I'd pop down here to make breakfast and let her get what sleep she could."

"That's nice of you," I said, "What's wrong with Dad? Should I be worried?"

"Oh, no, it's nothing like that. No, I just worry about him is all. He hasn't been the same lately. I'm just worried that something at work is making him unhappy."

"That's shitty," I said, "I'm sure it'll turn out fine for him, once he starts to get more time off."

"That's part of what makes me worry," she said, "That he's always gone for so long. But let's not talk about it. Bacon with your eggs?"

Which, of course, is always a yes.

We were just finishing up breakfast when I heard the screen door slam behind me, and I turned around to catch sight of Sam in her towel, striding down to meet us by the fire pit. She had a bottle of champagne and some lutes in her hands.

"Good morning, Sam," Mom called to her, "Can I make you some breakfast?"

"No thanks," Sam said without breaking stride, "I'm feeling a little hung over from last night. The only breakfast I need is mimosas. Hair of the dog. Are you going to tan with me?"

"I sure am," Mom said, "It looks like the sun's just starting to come out."

"Perfect," Sam said. She set the lutes down on the picnic table, popped the cork on the champagne, and filled three glasses half-full then topped them off with the orange juice. "Cheers," she said, raising her glass.

"Cheers," Mom and I echoed, taking a glass each, and we all took a mighty swallow of breakfast alcohol. My Mom drank the deepest. She seemed to need it the most. Sam refilled Mom's glass, then finished and refilled her own. I paced myself on my first drink, expecting a long day. When Sam's second glass was topped up, she took a gentle sip and made an exaggerated sigh of contentment.

"Perfect," she said, "Last one to the dock is a rotten egg."

Then she opened her towel, and I could scarcely believe my eyes. Sam was completely naked, and stood completely unashamed and open in the newly cresting sunlight. I couldn't help myself but do a total examination of her body, even if my Mom was just a few feet from us both. I looked her up and down, from the long and thick strands of her deep red hair, down to her heaving, massive chest, over her flat but fleshy tummy to her newly revealed pussy. She was shaven clean. It looked bare enough that it seemed even if she was unshaved, not much hair would grow there. I saw her little slit, and caught myself just quickly enough to look away before it became obvious that I was staring. Mom nearly choked on her second mimosa.