My name is James Stone. I've always thought of myself as a bit of a coward, and this is the story of how I learned to have a bit more confidence in myself.
I hadn't always known or been sure if I believed in destiny or not. Growing up, I had my fair share of existential crises and realizations about the largely uncaring nature of the universe, struggled with my own flaws, loneliness and depression. The one constant has always been my family, and in particular, my sister Beverly. It's only now that the circumstances of my life, and the profound joy I've been fortunate enough to experience have come together, that I understood I had always loved her, and she has always loved me. It was written in the stars, it just took me until we both grew up to notice.
It wasn't always that simple though, there was a time when Beverly and I were distant, almost estranged, my own lack of interest in anything other than gaming and scraping through my senior year shuttering me from most things that supposedly make that time of one's life the most rewarding of one's life. Beverly certainly did not have as difficult a time in that regard. Although only born minutes apart, and closer in our childhood than any friends we ever met and made, our experience in life from high school onward diverged, and her natural charisma, comfort around other people and charm grew with her beauty and intellect. I certainly tried my best to make the most of the example she made, but I never felt as comfortable in my own skin as she did, and I could never open myself to the superficial friendships and relationships Beverly surrounded herself with, preferring the company of a few close friends.
During this time, both of us had explored our growing bodies with casual high school relationships, and though we both had partnerships at one time or another that we at the time considered to be love, it was in this time that the two of us began to acknowledge that we were both people with deep desires, a need for connection and companionship that our peers didn't seem to appreciate. Despite the fact our social lives were so different, we would spend late nights talking about our various relationships and the many issues that arose from them with each other. It was in mulling these issues over, and learning about how she thought about the world, about relationships, about herself, that I first began to truly appreciate how thoughtful and caring she was. At the time, it seemed like I only realized my attraction for her after we both turned 18 and right as both of us were to go our separate ways, but in some way I think I've always known that we belonged together.
In any case, we were both adults now and headed off to college and the many experiences we were supposedly both in for. The thought of being far from Beverly was becoming more real and difficult to deal with as the days passed. I have never been an accomplished academic, and my average grades allowed me to attend a local college, while Beverly's star-student status sent her to the other side of the country to study at a prestigious and impressive old university. The months before we both left were a flurry of activity, parties, friends and relatives popping up from every corner to celebrate our burgeoning adulthoods.
We had fleeting moments together, passing as we left the house to visit different friends and explore separate opportunities. We even had our 18th birthday celebrations on different days, the first time that had happened since we were born, due to some unfortunate work obligations I had to make time for. Missing that party was tough, and I made it up to Beverly by taking her out to lunch the next weekend. Beverly wasn't upset, and overjoyed at the chance to spend some time with me alone. From then on, I vowed to make more time for her.
I can admit now, I had always loved her and her gorgeous amber golden hair but I never truly began to appreciate her for the woman she was until we both came of age. Beverly never stopped moving, even from an early age, and she had always been very strong. Through high school I had watched as she flourished from a pretty, albeit gangly young girl into the hardened frame of an athlete woman, a champion swimmer and accomplished goal scorer on the high school soccer team.
Beverly was indisputably gorgeous and although her confidence occasionally faltered, her idyllic looks and whip quick intellect were a frightening experience for those who were unwise enough to underestimate her. As she grew older and became an adult Beverly had been approached by a variety of recruiters, some representing universities or sports programs, but others offering lucrative modeling opportunities. Beverly turned most of these opportunities down, but often came away with many of the gifts and perks anyways.
She had recently started an instagram page dedicated to her fitness goals and while she hadn't agreed to anything outright, she had received quite a few skimpy articles of clothing to wear when she worked out or posted on social media. My favorites were a black form fitting workout top that left little to the imagination, and a variety of colorful skin tight workout leggings that had long mesh cutaways running along either side of her legs, from the hem of the pant near the outside of her ankle all the way up to her hips. They gave me a hardon any time she wore them, and a combination of the strappy top and slit leggings would pretty quickly have me shuffling upstairs to deal with my tenting pants.
Of course, Beverly knew I went looking at her, there had been a few times recently when I noticed her looks lingering right back as I stole furtive looks at her. Recently, there seemed to be a tension building as the glances we shared lasted longer, and Beverly's clothes skimpier and shorter as the summer heat grew as stifling and unbearable as my desire for her. My favored combination of workout leggings made way for loose t-shirts and short shorts as the heat blasted the house in the afternoons.
It wasn't long before I found myself thinking of her every night as I slipped into bed, the unbidden thoughts given fuel by seeing her perfect body daily, her plump breasts and thick ass barely covered by any clothing spurred me to masturbate frequently, and furiously. Our rooms shared a wall, and though early on I was cautious about making sure Beverly couldn't hear me, many years of growing up together had inured me to any real shame when it came to my sexual outlets.
One weekend afternoon about two months before my sister's move-out date, we were home alone together. This wasn't an uncommon occurrence recently, our parents had been seemingly unable to contain their excitement at the prospect of a child-free home and had left often, taking every opportunity to go on day trips or go camping together. It was nice to be alone with Beverly, looking back on it even then the two of us got along with a natural ease that made it easy to smile. We didn't often spend time together, gathering for the occasional mealtime or running into each other about the house.
The shade of the house protected us from the baking heat of the sun and discouraged us from going outside. I was in my room, struggling to find some way to win in the game that had just been released earlier that month. I had been spending quite a bit of time on my computer in the evenings, and I was starting to really get hooked on the challenge of the game. My focus was absolute, marshaling my defenses and redoubling my effort until the hope of a comeback began to grind out of the encounter.
"Aren't you hot?"
I nearly jumped out of my desk chair, having practically forgotten I wasn't alone in the house. Beverly had been exceptionally quiet all day. Looking up, I nearly jumped out of my chair again when I saw what Beverly was wearing, or rather what she wasn't. For some reason, perhaps an attempt to stave off the heat, Beverly had resorted to wearing a tiny black bralette, it certainly wasn't her actual cup size - her breasts bulging, and what appeared to be a pair of boxer leggings, spandex booty shorts, the black fabric stretched taught over the firm mound of her pussy, and the tawny muscles of her thighs. The flimsy material was so thin and taught I could tell she wasn't wearing any panties. I imagined plunging myself deep between those long legs. My cock immediately gave a traitorous twitch, and I hoped beyond hope she hadn't noticed.
"I'm wearing shorts aren't I?" I responded, my eyebrows raised. "If you're that warm you might as well draw yourself an ice bath!" I quipped, remembering the times I had helped her recover after particularly grueling soccer matches.
"Yeah but you've got a shirt on. It's lunacy, honestly if I could walk around shirtless you bet I would. Especially in this weather."
I laughed, pointing at Beverly's chest, "I mean you're practically shirtless already. How much more is a bra helping with your heat level?"
