I fell in love with my brother when I was in the eighth grade. I've always loved Matt, but when I was thirteen, I fell IN love with him.
At the time when I reached puberty, and my hormones kicked in, and all the other girls my age were going goo-goo over boys in our class, all my dreams and fantasies revolved around my brother, who is two years older than I am.
I had just started my senior year in high school, when on September 11, 2001, the World Trade Center was hit by two airliners. Matt felt he had to join up, to stand up for his country.
I was terrified when he joined the Army, because our father was killed in 1990 in Operation Desert Storm in Iraq. "Don't worry, Beanie, I'll be fine," he said, as I saw Matt off on the plane to Afghanistan, to participate in Operation Enduring Freedom.
"Beanie" was the nickname my father had hung on me, and I hated it. It was short for beanpole, because I was tall and skinny. I stood 5'7" in the sixth grade, and towered over all the boys in my class. Fortunately, I never grew any taller, but I was still skinny as a rail. My name is Meagan.
I was eight years old when our father died, and Matt was ten. Our mother was shattered and, unfortunately, she started to drink. Her drinking got worse, and by the time he was twelve, Matt took over the household responsibilities. He made sure we had food in the house, packed my lunches for school, and made sure I had clean clothes to wear.
I learned how to cook and do the laundry, so we were pretty much on our own. It fell on us to take care of our mother.
Matt and I always got along with each other. We never fought like some siblings do, and he never excluded me from anything he was doing when we were growing up. I was never treated like the "tag-a-long" kid sister.
I was the perennial late bloomer. When all the other girls in my class were growing boobs, and flaunting them, I was flat as a board. My hips looked like a boy's, and I had no ass at all.
I wore a tee shirt until I was fourteen, and then I wore a padded training bra, even though I didn't have anything to put in it.
My period did happen at the proper time, so there wasn't anything biologically wrong with me. I was mortified the first time I asked Matt to buy tampons for me, and he was probably just as embarrassed to ask for them at the store. After that, he always made sure I had some "personal" money.
Sex was never a subject that was discussed between us. Most of whatever I learned came from other girls at school. As skinny and titless as I was, I didn't have any first-hand experience. A lot of kids at school made fun of me, and the boys all went after the girls with big boobs, so I never even went out on a date.
As my social life was non-existent, I made up for it by studying real hard. I was known as a "brainiac," a geek, a nerd. My only friend, besides Matt, was Karen Wenner, another nerdy type.
The difference between Karen and me was that she had really big boobs. And she'd let anyone play with them that wanted to. She was also the queen of blowjobs. She had stringy hair and a bad complexion, but half the guys in school had their first experience with her.
They never went out with her twice, but she didn't care, she made it up in quantity. She could tell you who had a monster cock, who had a teeny weenie, and how long each of them could last before they came.
The only physical contact we had with each other was when he would brush my hair, or I would give him a back rub after he'd put in a hard day's work. I had really long blonde hair and he liked to brush it and run his fingers through it. It felt wonderful. I did kiss him goodnight before going to bed, but it was just a sisterly peck on the lips.
I had blonde hair, and his was dark, almost black. Our Dad used to kid us that we must have come from different families. Matt was so handsome. He looked like Orlando Bloom, who was a major crush for a lot of the girls in my school.
He worked in a tire shop, changing big truck tires all day, and he'd come home exhausted. He would take off his shirt and lie face down on the floor, and I would straddle him and rub his back, digging my thumbs into his sore trapezius and deltoid muscles.
"You have wonderful hands, Beanie," he'd say between pleasure groans.
Matt had girlfriends, but they never lasted too long. I was really jealous and I hated them all.
The year before he joined the Army, our mother died of cirrhosis of the liver, so we were on our own. We had taken care of each other for more than five years, so there wasn't much change in our daily lives. We were sad, but kind of relieved at the same time, because she was so sick for so long. She just wasted her life away with booze.
The morning before he left, Matt brought in this big box with a red ribbon on it, and set it on the foot of my bed. The box had holes punched in it. When I opened it up, there was this beautiful little golden retriever puppy inside.
"Here's something to keep you company while I'm gone."
"Oh, Matt, she's beautiful. I'm going to call her Maggie."
I picked her up and held her to my breast. She was so soft and fuzzy. Her tail was wagging about a hundred miles an hour, and she covered my face with puppy kisses.
The day he left, I was a total mess. I put my arms around him and held him tight, and I couldn't stoop sobbing. He was leaving a huge hole in my life, and a hole in my heart. I knew he had to go, but I was still terrified.
"I'm going to miss you so much, Matt."
"I'll miss you too, Beanie." He took out his handkerchief and wiped the tears off my cheeks.
"I'll write you every day."
He turned and walked to the car that was taking him to the Army base. He waved to me out the window, and I watched until the car was completely out of sight. I scooped Maggie up and lay down on my bed and cuddled with her. I was still crying, and she licked my tears away.
I kept my promise and wrote a letter to Matt every day, telling him about school, everything I was doing, and about Maggie. He didn't write nearly as often, but I treasured each letter I got from him.
During my senior year, after I turned eighteen, strange things began happening to my body; I was actually starting to fill out! My breasts started to look like little cones, and I took the padding out of my bra.
