My sister Sal and I have always been close. We were born two years apart, but as our birthdays fell we were only a year apart in school. We were happy growing up, with a number of friends of all ages who we ran around the neighborhood with. "Sis" was kind of tomboyish, very athletic, and very competitive. She was just as likely to join in a playground game with boys as she was with the girls. She could arm wrestle most boys and beat them.
Our parents got divorced when we were eleven and thirteen, and we moved with our mother away from our comfortable surroundings. Our new school was very cliquish, and neither of us fit in very well. As we went through puberty, Sal had even more reason not to fit in, because it seemed that Sal's external physical development stopped just after puberty started. More precisely, her hips never widened, and her breasts stopped growing almost as soon as they started. She had puffy conical nipples and only a small amount of underlying breast tissue. As a result, if she dressed in loose clothing and had a hat on, she could be, and often was, mistaken for a boy. You can imagine the teasing she got from the other girls due to her flat chest. She could try to wear bras that gave her the appearance of having breasts, but as soon as she got in the locker room in gym class her flat chest was on display for the other girls to giggle at.
She loved sports, but as we went through high school never went out for any of the teams because of her embarrassment and the teasing she endured.
I, on the other hand developed normally, at least physically. However, I was not very self-confident, especially around girls. While I did actually ask a couple of girls to dances, they just turned their noses up at me because I was an 'outsider'. After a couple of rejections I realized I would always be turned down, and so gave up asking.
Sis and I became even closer through middle and high school because it seemed we only had each other for company. So, we mostly hung around together, often playing some sport we modified so two could play. She was an excellent basketball player and could beat me at "H-O-R-S-E", as she had a deadly long-range shot. We also played a form of 1 on 1 football. We invented all sorts of sports to play, and would spend hours on weekends playing some sort of game like that. We were really best friends as well as siblings, and we still are.
At school, when I would see girls or guys hassling her in the hallway I was quick to jump in to her defense. She appreciated that, even though she could handle herself quite well. We usually sat together on the bus, and endured the snickers and whispers from the back of the bus.
After graduation Sal went off to college while I endured my senior year of high school. At college there was more of the same for her. While she liked her studies, she had no social life and, because of her high school experience, was not inclined to try out for any sports.
As I turned 18 and graduation neared I began preparation for college. That summer after I graduated Sal and I were both at home earning some money for college in the fall.
In the evenings the three of us would sit on the sofa in the family room and watch old movies together. Mom had to get up earlier than us for her morning commute, so she usually retired early and missed the end of the movies.
For movie watching Sal usually wore an old loose-fitting tee shirt and a faded old pair of shorts, and I would wear threadbare old sweatpants and a tee shirt.
Usually she would rest her head on my shoulder and I would drape my arm around her shoulder, or she would sometimes curl up on the sofa with her head in my lap while we watched. Her hair is jet black and hangs below her shoulders unless she wears a ponytail, and I loved to stroke her silky soft hair while we watched. Sometimes I would run my hand lightly over her bare arm or leg and she would sigh.
One day, toward the end of summer, our mother left to attend a business conference for a few days. We were left to ourselves, but she had taught us to be self-sufficient, so she didn't worry about leaving us alone. We could each cook and do all the other household chores. Mom often told me she didn't want me to be as helpless as her ex-husband had been.
The first day she was gone we were outside playing one of our 1 on 1 football games. She fielded a kick and headed across the yard. She threw me a shoulder fake left, which I totally bought, then darted right. I recovered in time to catch her, and "tackled" her, as was the rule, by grabbing her around the waist. She squealed as we spun around, lost our balance, fell to the grass and rolled over together, with her landing on top of me. Her hair band had broken and her mass of hair fell across my face. I reached up and rubbed it on my cheek.
"God, sis, I could just bury myself in your hair."
She laughed, and playfully punched my shoulder as we got up. After awhile we decided to go in and fix some supper. I took first shower, put on my movie watching clothes and headed to the kitchen to start cooking. When she came down I was stunned by what she was wearing - a burgundy silk pajama set that softly clung to her body. I had seen her wear these to bed sometimes, but never to watch movies.
"What's the special occasion, sis?"
"Oh, nothing. I just felt a little girly tonight."
As she walked by, I couldn't help but smack her on the backside. She turned and glared at me, and I prepared to defend myself. Instead, we just narrowed our eyes and stared at each other, until we burst out laughing together.
"You know I'll get you."
"Yeah, but I couldn't help it. The way you usually dress it is hard to notice that you have a really nice ass." At that she stuck her tongue out at me.
After dinner we settled in to watch some old black and white movies, corny old movies from the 1930's.
We took up our usual positions on the sofa. She was next to me with her head on my shoulder, and I began to stroke her hair. She sighed, as usual.
After awhile she shifted and curled up with her head in my lap. I continued to stroke her hair with my left hand while my right lightly rubbed her arm. The fabric of the pajamas was so smooth and thin; it was almost like touching her bare arm. Absent-mindedly I ran my hand ran up to her shoulder, and down her side toward her legs. I caressed her leg as I often did, but there were no shorts to give me a stopping place. My hand moved higher up her thigh than usual, and she sighed again. I did like to make her happy.
Suddenly she rolled over so she was on her back and I stopped. The thin pajama fabric settled over her tiny breasts, outlining them perfectly. Looking up at me lovingly with those big brown eyes, she smiled and said, "Don't stop, Mark."
I started on her arm again, and she closed her eyes. My fingers trailed down her side toward her legs, only now they were stretched out and I couldn't reach as far down as when she was curled up.
When I caressed the top of her thigh she drew her legs up so her feet were below her knees. My strokes now lightly moved up and down her thigh, and every once in a while hit the crease where her legs and body met. Another sigh.
My fingers trailed up her side again, and then over to trace circles around her navel. There was something about the fabric of her outfit that just invited touching. Yet another sigh. I watched as my hand, almost of its own free will gradually moved up her stomach and chest until I was barely touching the slight swelling of her tiny breasts as I gently rubbed. She drew a deep breath and I stopped, ready for her to cuss me out for touching her like that. Instead, she let out a longer sigh, with a hint of another sound, a shudder. Did she like it that much?
I became fixated on those bumps on her chest. I had never taken that much notice of her body before. Gradually I tentatively touched them through the thin fabric. She moved her hands from her side and under my arm, and I lifted my hand, ready for her to swat it away. Instead of a reproach, she started unbuttoning her pajama top, until it opened and slowly slid free to her sides, gathering in silky pools. I had glimpsed her breasts before, but now she was offering them to me. Those puffy rosy nipples had just the slightest hint of swelling under them. I traced around the curve of each breast. She sighed again, and this time it ended with a definite shiver.
I suddenly realized that I had become very aroused, and I knew she couldn't help but notice, as her head was in my lap. That shouldn't happen, I thought, after all she was my sister, and I was just doing something she liked.
After a few minutes I eased my right hand down to her legs again while continuing the breast massage with my left. This time as I caressed her thighs, she actually moved her knees slightly apart. Now as I reached the top of her leg I could more easily reach her inner thigh. When I reached between her legs I hesitated, but she didn't seem to want me to stop, so I laid my hand over her. Another sigh and a slight moan. I gently moved the flat of my hand my hand over her, feeling the heat and dampness.
I moved my hand lightly over the fabric of the pajama pants, feeling the contours beneath, up to the waistband and slightly slid them underneath the elastic, stopped, and waited for a sign. The sign was another sigh, this time with a hint of trembling. I moved down over her satiny smooth skin to her underwear and massaged some more around the waistband. Taking a deep breath I slid my hand part way under the waistband. This was met with more sighing and soft moans.
She raised her hips slightly, which I took as a signal that she wanted me to continue, so I slid my hand underneath and explored the unfamiliar contours. Her hair was soft and curly, in a nice trim triangle. I rested my hand on her, and she raised her hips up slightly again. I took that as my signal to proceed, I ran my fingers up and down between her lips, and then up to her clit. She shuddered and moaned again. Her breathing was becoming more rapid and shallow as I explored her wonders. Her lips were large, and opened up like flower petals at my touch, and my fingers were wet with something.
I stopped when I sensed her hands moving, but she just pushed down her pajama bottoms and underwear. I didn't need another hint for the next move, as I slid them over her knees and down her legs to her feet, where she shook them off. I had never seen a real female body before, and now my sister was essentially offering herself to me. I thought I would explode from the sight.
She raised herself and moved to sit upright, leaning back against the back of the couch next to me, and tugged my tee shirt off. As she did so, she shrugged her pajama top the rest of the way off. I dropped to the floor on my knees in front of her, almost as if in worship. My hands couldn't stop exploring her lovely body. Her body shuddered as I caressed her thighs and breasts.
