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.
