INTRODUCTION & DISCLAIMER - Pretty and petite university student Matilda from Brisbane, Australia has always adored Tyler, her much older half brother from her father's first marriage and they get along well despite the difference between them, mostly their age with Matilda aged 18 and Tyler aged 40. In recent months however Matilda has suspected Tyler of perving on her, although she has no evidence of this and puts it down to an overly active imagination on her part.
So has Tyler really been perving on his much younger half sister? And what will happen one Saturday when Matilda and Tyler go out for a day out together on the Gold Coast? Find out by reading 'Exploring With My Big Brother'.
Please note that this story involves voyeurism and explicit sex acts between a sister and brother with an age difference of more than 20 years, as well as scenes involving the sister using the toilet and having her period, which might not be to every reader's taste. All characters, businesses and situations depicted in the story are fictional with similarity to real persons living or dead coincidental and unintentional, and only characters aged 18 and older are in any sex scenes. Please enjoy and be sure to rate and comment.
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My younger brother Zac and I jumped as we heard a car horn sound in the garage, followed by an almighty smashing of glass and our outraged father Gordon bellowing, "Tyler, you twit!"
Zac and I exchanged a glance as we poured breakfast cereal and milk into our bowls, and our mother Jeanette entered the kitchen and said to us while sighing and wringing her hands. "I wonder what that brother of yours has done to upset your father this time?" she mused to us.
Mum was not Tyler's mother but his stepmother. She never openly said anything negative about her stepson, but did a lot of sighing and hand-wringing whenever Tyler was around and I had once heard her comment to her sister -- our aunt - after Tyler departed after visiting one Christmas that 'a little bit of Tyler goes a very long way.'
Growing up, Zac and I had heard our father admonish his eldest son Tyler by saying "Tyler you twit!" so often that it was sort of like the catch phrase of a character from an old Hanna-Barbera cartoon from the 1960s or 1970s. That our father looked somewhat like a cartoon character -- he had a bald head, moustache, glasses and an almost constantly frustrated and indignant facial expression -- didn't help.
We would soon find out what had happened this morning when our father and half-brother entered the kitchen from the garage arguing about the incident. "Dad, I said I was sorry and that I would clean up the mess and pay to replace the beer. I didn't mean to beep the horn -- I was just checking the car's engine - and I didn't know you were there."
"To pay to replace the beer -- expensive imported beer I was taking for your uncle and I to enjoy -- you would need to have money in your bank account, which you do not. And why bother to check the car, it is a heap of junk 20-years-old that belongs in a wrecker's yard, Tyler you twit!"
Zac and I kept out of the way as our father and much older half-brother Tyler entered the kitchen, our Dad as red as a cooked lobster and breathing heavily, probably recovering from the shock of the car horn beeping at him when he wasn't expecting it and dropping the expensive beer on the garage floor, the bottles smashing and lager going everywhere.
Like many kids born to older parents on their second marriages, Zac and I had a short version and a long version of our family. Short version -- we were part of a perfect nuclear family who lived in an ordinary suburban house in the Australian city of Brisbane in the current year 2019. There was our Mum, our Dad, the son Zac who was born in 2002 and me, the daughter Matilda, born in the year 2000. Plus there was the cat Shadow and the dog Harry.
The longer version was that Dad had been previously married to a woman named Phyllis and they had two children born in the 1970s. There was Karen, who was born in 1976 and Tyler, who was born in 1979, both adults when first me and then my younger brother made our way into the world in the early 2000s. The same was true of our cousins. Mum and Dad's siblings had all had their kids in the mid-late 1970s and early 1980s, so the youngest of our cousins were already finishing high school by the time Zac and I were born.
Mum had previously been married too, but despite wanting children she and her first husband were unable to have them no matter what they and the fertility doctors tried. Some marriages survive infertility, others don't, and Mum's first marriage fell into the latter category. However, within a month of marrying Dad in 1999 Mum then aged 39 found she was late and nine months later gave birth to a healthy baby girl -- me - after a trouble free pregnancy. Rinse and repeat for my little brother two years later.
Dad was ten years older than Mum, so I think it was a bit tiring for him when he became a father again in his 50s. That eldest daughter Karen and her husband Jeremy made Dad a grandfather in 2005 when she gave birth to her daughter and then again in 2008 when she gave birth to her son made him feel even older. That's one of the things about having older half-siblings from a parent's first marriage -- you tend to become and aunt or an uncle at a very young age and it was certainly true for Zac and I.
When it came to his son and daughter from his first marriage Dad's philosophy was a simple and inflexible one. Daughter Karen was perfect and could do no wrong. Son Tyler was useless and could do nothing right.
Karen had always been a high-achiever from the time she arrived in the world -- a straight-A student at school who also excelled on the sports field at the pricey private school she had attended. She had gone to university and become a lawyer, and years later she was a high-priced barrister. Her husband Jeremy was also a lawyer, and the couple lived with their two kids in a very expensive house in a nice suburb in the Redlands Bay area of Brisbane.