Author's Note: This is an erotic story about the developing feelings of a brother and sister, their flirting, interactions, and a little romance. The sexual tension keeps escalating and there are plenty of sexy and emotional scenes, but they won't go all the way before the very end. As always thanks to AsylumSeeker for taking the time to edit my story.
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"Summer," I thought as I watched with anticipation the familiar house grow closer out of the taxi window, "is always such a great time for a college student; no classes, great weather, and more importantly, girls in tight bikinis."
Like every summer I would be spending the vacation at my parent's house. Not very glamorous, but they were always eager to see me and my sister, especially our mother; she relished being able to fret over us as if we were still her little darlings. God forbid we dare touch the laundry or cook something. I suspect she never got over me and more recently my sister leaving the house.
Seeing as I would be entirely free of my time, I was planning on spending my days showing off at the beach, flirting with and sexing up the cute girls, no strings attached, before I had to head back to school.
But not today, right now I was very much looking forward to seeing my sister again; we hadn't seen each other since last summer when she finally decided her major and moved off to some distant, artsy College.
"Here we are," the driver announced over his shoulder as the taxi slowed to a halt in front of the house. "Fifteen seventy-five."
I took out my wallet, dug out a twenty and handed it over. "Keep the change," I offered before getting out, suitcase in hand. I closed it again behind me.
"Thanks," I heard from the open window as the taxi moved past me, but I had already dismissed it, looking instead at the house.
I had missed it; its well-groomed edges, airy yard, and its familiar contours bringing back childhood memories. Hell of a lot better than some cramped dorm room.
I saw the parent's cars in the drive; good, looking like they were home. I was at the door in a couple of quick steps. I burst in, smiling expectantly. "Hi, I'm home!"
After a puzzled moment my smile melted in worry; no reactions, no one coming to check the door? This wasn't like them.
I let my suitcase fall to the floor, forgotten, and hurried in to investigate. Had something bad happened? A nervous look in passing told me there was no one in the living room. I kept running and burst in the dining room, jerking to a halt in shock at the sight greeting me.
Here was my father, standing up and hugging my crying sister, while mother sat at the table, ashen.
"What's going on," I blurted out.
Mother turned her sad eyes on me, just now realizing my presence. She wiped her teary eyes with one hand, looked at my sister and then back at me.
"She came back to find that Darren Cypher with another woman," she explained.
She opened her mouth to speak again but closed it with a snap and buried her face in her hands instead.
I felt anger rising in me. Darren; they'd been going out last summer before she left for college. I thought he was a friend, how could he do this to my sister?
"I knew he was bad news." Father growled over my sister's shoulder, patting her back. "I shouldn't have let you get with him, honey."
"Dad," she whined, pushing herself away from his chest and out of his arms. "I love him!" without making eye contact with anyone she ran out the room, her steps soon echoing up the stairs.
"Cindy," I called, "wait!" I sprang after her, but by the time I reached the stairs I heard a door clang above. I sprinted up and crossed the hallway in record time, stopping before her closed door. I tried the handle; locked.
"Open the door," I pleaded. "I just want to talk."
"No," came her muffled reply. "I don't want to talk."
"Please," I begged. "You don't have to go through this alone"
She didn't reply, her only response being her muffled sobs coming through the door. I persevered, but she was deaf to my pleas. Eventually I gave up and skulked away, depressed.
Mom was waiting at the foot of the stairs; she looked at me expectantly as I came down. I shook my head and she deflated.
"She's such a good girl, why would someone do this to her?" she asked.
I shrugged. "I don't know, Mom." I walked past her to the foyer and grabbed my suitcase. "Look, I'm not feeling well. I think I'll go unpack my stuff then get some sleep."
She walked up to me and encircled me with her arms. I hugged her small frame back with my free arm.
"Good night," she whispered sadly. "I love you honey."
"I love you too," I said, freeing myself from her arms and heading up to my room.
Things didn't improve any in the next two days; our parents worked most of the day, coming back just before supper, which left me and my sister Cindy alone until then.
She would spend that time alone in her room, crying most of the time. I spent my own time watching reruns on the TV and waiting on her in case she would reach out to me, but she didn't.
The evenings weren't much better. Mom did manage to get her out of her room for suppers, but she wouldn't talk to us, just ate and headed back to her room. No amount of coaxing would make her smile.
Her bad mood was contagious; father was furious, mom was in her own shell, and me, I'm not sure how I felt. Depressed I guess, and a little guilty; if it wasn't for me she would never have met Darren.
How could I have been so blind? I should have known he wasn't the kind of guy to get in a relationship. One thing was certain; I couldn't start dating while my sister had her heart broken, it would just make things worse for her.
On the third day as I was watching TV I heard the creak of her door opening, heard her light footsteps coming down the stairs. I got off of the couch and turned off the TV hoping she would finally talk, but she went past the living room heading for the kitchen.
"Sis," I called as I started going after her. "Wait up!"
She didn't stop for me; I finally caught up with her in front of the fridge. Coming up from behind I reached and put my hand on her shoulder. She stopped, but didn't say a word or turn around. I took hold of her other shoulder too, turning her to face me.
My heart caught in my throat; she looked a mess. Her hair was unkempt and looked like she hadn't brushed it since the day she first locked herself in her room. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, and she looked paler than usual. This wasn't fair; I wanted to see her smile again, see her happy again. She avoided my eyes, looking down between us.
"Sis," I pleaded, shaking her shoulders lightly, wishing I could get some life into her. "Please look at me; it's going to be okay I'm here for you. Talk to me."
"I just want milk," she mumbled under her breath. She reached up, removed my hands from her shoulders and turned around toward the fridge again.
I stood there watching, disappointed, as she opened the fridge and took the carton out. She grabbed a glass out of the cupboard and began filling it, but then started shaking in silent sobs, her unsteady hands spilling milk on the counter.
With visible effort she managed to fill the glass halfway, but her sobs were worsening; with a racking sob she slammed the glass and carton on the counter and ran past me, up the stairs into her room.
I let out a sigh dejectedly, wondering when she would get better. It hurt seeing her like this.
I put the carton back in the fridge, grabbed a rag and started cleaning up her mess by wiping the counter.
As I grabbed her glass I lost control of my emotions. My sister, my dear, lively little sister was so wounded she couldn't even pour a glass of milk for herself. I felt pain, and anger; anger at myself for being so useless, at him for betraying our friendship, and incongruously even at my sister, for not being happy.
In a fit of rage I threw the glass across the room. It hit the wall and shattered sending milk and shards everywhere. I immediately regretted my impulse. How could I be mad at my sister? And I had broken her glass of milk. Holding that glass was the closest I had been to my sister in days.
Deflated and ashamed of myself I fetched the mop and started cleaning, wishing school had never ended.
That evening Cindy didn't come out of her room for supper. We ate in silence and my parents retired to their room early. As for myself I needed to let some steam off. I grabbed some beers from the fridge and went in the backyard.
I sat down on the grass and my gaze crept up to her window. It was closed but the lights were on. She was probably crying again. I opened a beer and drank heavily from it, trying to drown my emotions. After a couple of gulps it surprisingly came up empty. I threw the bottle across the yard and opened another one.
I don't know how long I spent outside, but I quickly realized I had drunk too much when I nearly stumbled down on my way back inside. Closing the lights behind me I unsteadily made my way to my room, closed my door with a bang, fumbled with my clothing and slipped under the covers, naked.
Time went by as I turned around in bed, unable to fall asleep. On top of the whole ordeal with my sister I realized I had another problem; I was horny. I'm not the kind of person to go long without sex. Although the alcohol had made it come out, it probably explained part of my own emotions the last few days.
Just thinking about sex made my cock grow erect. I grabbed it and let out a relieved sight as I started stroking up and down, enjoying the feeling. A little release would probably do wonders for my mood.
