My baby sister is not really a baby any more. Far from it. We're both in our 40's and generally happy with our lives.
About a year ago, almost by coincidence, 'baby sister' has become my term of endearment for her again. But let me start at the beginning...
When my younger sister was born I was six. From the moment she arrived in my world I loved her to bits. I affectionately called her my 'baby sister'.
Being a big brother was wonderful. I showed her the ropes of her young life, based on whatever little extra life experience I had on her. Most of the time, we would figure things out together. She was smart.
She stayed my 'baby sister' for about ten years. Then things changed. I believe it was mostly my fault that things turned the way they did. You see, I had developed an interest in "mature" girls. My baby sister did not fit that bill.
Sounds like I was a right dickhead at the time, and, admittedly, I was. Especially, since in those days my attraction to girls was quite one-sided. What I'm trying to say is that the girls I was interested in did not normally want to have anything to do with me. Not that I would have been rejected much. I just wasn't noticed.
Initially, my sister tried to get my attention back, but, as I said, she wasn't in my target group, and I was much too preoccupied with my own changing world to be able to deal with her during those years.
By the time I was 18, she had entered puberty herself and was spending her time with her girlfriends, whereas I was a bit of a loner, keeping to myself, most of the time.
When she turned 18 she had a big, over the top birthday party. I was 24 at the time, had just finished college with a Master of Science and was preparing for my second round of postgraduate studies to get my Ph.D. I remember she asked me to come, but I was way too busy in College, and skipped her big party.
By the time I was 30, I had started work as a young researcher. My sister was 24 and studying for her Ph. D. in the same field I was working in. It was funny how we seemed to make the same choices in life, just always six years apart.
I was 38, when our parents died suddenly in a plane crash. My sister and I hadn't spoken in years, and I will never forget the day she called me to give me the news. That was ten years ago. We organised the funeral together, but soon afterwards, we went our own separate ways again. I was newly married, the first child was on its way, and she had just got a promotion. We were both extremely busy.
When she got married five years ago, I was abroad, working for an international research company, so I couldn't attend her wedding.
We met again, by pure coincidence, last September, when I was the main speaker at a scientific symposium which my sister was attending. Things like that happen if you work in the same field. I hadn't a clue she'd be there. You can imagine my surprise when I heard a knock on my hotel room door, shortly after the opening reception on the first night of the event, and my sister stood there in a very sexy black dress.
"Hello, Jim," Georgina said in her soft, feminine voice. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"
I looked at her, speechless. My mouth was dry. She was drop-dead gorgeous. Petite. 5'4" and 1/2 (she had always insisted on that 1/2 inch). Dark, shoulder-length hair, a pretty face that didn't need much make-up to look stunning, the low-cut dress that perfectly showed off her curves, her perky and small tits, her flat tummy and slender but feminine hips, her long, naked legs, feet in black stilettos, a scent to die for.
"Hi, Georgie." I slowly regained my speech. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here for the symposium, Jim. I thought I'd come and see you. It seems we have a lot of catching up to do, big brother."
"Great to see you." I was still stunned and couldn't think of anything else to say.
"Can I come in or are you hiding someone in your room, Jim," Georgina asked with a twinkle in her eyes.
"Sorry, Georgie. Come in." I stepped out of the way and closed the door behind my little sister. "How long has it been? Five, six years?"
"It's been ten years, Jim. I thought it was high time we stopped avoiding each other. I miss you, big brother."
"I can't believe it's been that long." The 'little sister' did not want to come across my lips, and I had difficulties admitting that I missed her, too. "You look great. Take a seat." I pointed to the empty bed. "It's the best I have," I added quietly.
"Thanks, Jim." My sister sat down and dropped her shoes. "God, I've been dying to get out of these all evening." She pulled her legs as she sat down on the bed. She looked gorgeous with her long legs tucked in underneath her small and slender body.
"Do you want a drink, Georgie?" I could do with one now. A stiff one at that. I checked the mini bar.
"I've got Vodka, Gin, Whiskey, Champagne, White Wine, OJ, Tonic and Ginger Ale, and there is a bottle of beer."
"I'll take Champagne, Jim. Care to share? I think we should celebrate our reunion, what do you think?"
I went to the bathroom and returned with two empty glasses. They weren't fancy, but they'd do the trick. Georgina opened the Champagne. The cork popped with a loud clap. My sister giggled. I remembered this giggle. She always giggled like this, especially when she was nervous.
I took the bottle and divided it into the two glasses. I handed her hers. "To old times," Georgie said when our glasses touched.
It felt strange being alone in a hotel room with my sister, who I hadn't seen in years and who was dressed to kill, drinking champagne from water glasses, filling each other in on the past ten years of our lives.
"Come here, big brother," Georgina said when we had finished going through our respective resumes, and patted the bed beside her. "Sit beside me. I hate having to talk to you across the room."
I sat down on the bed, my back resting against the headboard. She moved up beside me and we continued talking. Soon our conversation turned to childhood memories. Georgie was as easy to talk to as she'd ever been. She laughed at the right times, picked up the conversation when I dropped it and made it easy for me to do the same when she fell silent for a moment.
"Do you remember what you used to call me, back then, Jim," she asked. I felt a surge rip through my stomach. I wasn't prepared for this question.
"Baby sister," I answered quietly. "Baby sister," I whispered again, more to re-assure myself than to answer her question. It felt strange to associate the word baby with the gorgeous woman that sat beside me on the bed.
"I used to like it when you called me that, even when I wasn't a baby anymore," Georgie remarked quietly. "It felt as if nothing could happen to me when you called me your baby sister, Jim. Like a protective spell."
"I didn't know that, Georgie."
"And then you stopped. One day. Out of the blue. I haven't a clue why, but you never called me baby sister again."
"I know, Georgie. I went through stuff back then. Puberty. I'm sorry."
"It was tough. You were always my big brother, even when we didn't talk, Jim. You are now, big brother."
I didn't know what to say. Her words moved me deeply, especially, since deep inside, underneath my cool and at times stand-offish exterior, I felt the very same. I stayed silent.
"What about you, Jim. Have I been your baby sister all these years?"
I swallowed before I answered her. For some reason, her question made me nervous.
"Yes, Georgie. You were always my baby sister," I almost whispered, afraid she would hear my admission.
Georgie said nothing, but took my hand. After a moment of silence, she said, "Big brother," and squeezed my hand lightly.
"Baby sister," I replied, squeezing her hand, too. We sat on the bed for a couple of minutes, holding hands, following our emotions. It was as if our old bond, the bond of big brother and baby sister, had been renewed.
"Do you feel it, too, big brother," my sister asked me. "It's back. The protective spell has returned. I feel strong with you."
"I do, baby sister. I feel strong with you, too."
We sat in silence for a while, holding hands.
