He Shot His Sister

Sherry looked across the food court and saw Adam. She worked at the pizza-by-slice stand. He worked at the game/movie/CD store on the other side of the mall. Sherry was 20, and she figured Adam was a year or two older. Two weeks ago, she'd come back to work after missing a week due to the flu. She visited the store on her lunch break and saw him, and since then she'd made a habit of visiting at the end of her shift when she wasn't closing, just to get his attention.

Now he was chatting Donna up at the cell phone kiosk where she worked. What was she doing? From that distance, she looked like she was unbuttoning her blouse. Whatever she was saying to him, his body language made it clear that he was interested. Damn it, Sherry had brought him enough food that she should been getting his attention. Donna was even going to have his number now. Sherry tried to think of a way to get him to notice her. At that moment, business picked up and she didn't have a chance to give it any thought until her shift was over. When she left, she deliberately walked past the cell phone kiosk to look for Donna. In her mind she wanted to confront Donna, but she was relieved to see that she wasn't there. When she got to the game store, she saw two guys, not Adam, talking. One of them seemed to recognize her. Crap, she'd been there too often. She needed a good hand to play, but she needed to leave now before they started to think she was creepy.

As she walked to her car, she remembered one of the phone features, where you can tap your phones and share things. Her phone had that feature, but she rarely had an opportunity to use it. On the drive home, she remembered the image of Donna unbuttoning her blouse and had an idea. She'd take some selfies, wait for Adam to stop by and casually mention the sharing feature. If he had it, she'd share the pictures with him. Now she just needed the pictures.

At home, she took selfies in various states of undress and wearing clothes of varying degrees of sexiness. She wasn't satisfied with any of the pictures. She thought about the social media sites that she frequented. She only looked for the men's pictures, but she had to scroll past women's pictures to get to them. How did the women get their pictures to look so good? Obviously, someone else was taking them, but where did they find someone to do it and not get embarrassed? She'd have her answer soon enough.

Sherry was off work the next day. She walked past her younger brother Stevie's room. She saw him sitting at his computer and overheard him on his cell phone. "Yeah, I don't have a lot going on in my classes, so I decided this is a good time to ramp up my job search. ... Mostly fast food places and call centers, but there's also L'Image Coucher. ... No, I don't need a portfolio. This is just scheduling and taking payments." He was talking about a photography studio Sherry had passed a couple times in a mall on the other side of town from where she worked. They called it glamor photography, but she knew by way of her friends' older sisters and cousins that they also did boudoir photography.

Sherry watched the first of five episodes of a reality show that she'd recorded that week. When it was over, she went up to Stevie's room. He was looking at the computer, but he wasn't holding his phone any more. "Hey, Stevie!"

"Steve, not Stevie. I haven't answered to that since seventh grade."

"You answered just now."

"That's 'cause I was hoping to avoid this conversation."

"Fine. You don't want help getting a job, that's your problem."

"I don't like pizza."

"Good, 'cause it'd get uncomfortable if we worked in the same place. Too much time together. I heard you talking about L'Image Coucher."

"You know someone who works there?"

"No, that's not what I had in mind. I want to send a couple sexy pictures to a guy I met at the mall. I tried taking them myself, but I'm no photographer. If you want to build a portfolio, I could use some help."

Steve looked at her and shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "Okay, why not. You got clothes picked out?"

"No, you can help me with that too."

They went into Sherry's bedroom. She opened her closet door. She pulled out the dress she'd worn to her senior prom. "Think it still fits?" Steve asked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sherry replied indignantly. "I park on the far side of the mall just to make sure that the pizza doesn't stay on my hips."

"I wasn't talking getting fat," Steve said. "You may be the same height as the first time you wore it, but you haven't stopped growing in other areas." He cupped his hands under his breasts and lifted up as if he were a woman.

Sherry was taken aback. "Oh. Um, ... thanks for noticing. Lemme try it on." She took it off the hanger and thought perhaps there was more to her brother than met the eye. His high school acne had finally gone away, but he looked more like their mother in his cheekbones than their dad in the musculature. He was an inch shorter than Sherry, but like Edna in

The Incredibles

and Hetty on

NCIS: Los Angeles

, he had a demeanor that conveyed his expertise, and he didn't even need dorky-looking glasses to pull off the look.

She hadn't even lifted the hem of her T-shirt when Steve turned his back on her. After a minute, he asked, "Is it okay to look?"

"Yeah, go ahead." She was still straightening it out. "Okay, I can already tell it doesn't fit."

Steve added, "It's not a good color anyway. I mean it looks good on you, but it's too close to your hair color for what you're trying to do. If your hair were any blacker, it'd say, 'Nevermore!' You need something that's at least a little lighter than your hair to accentuate it when it falls over your shoulders." He pointed to a shorter, bright blue dress that was next to it in the closet. "What about that one?" he suggested. Sherry pulled it out. Once again, Steve turned his back on her. When she gave her okay, he looked and said, "Well, that doesn't fit either, but I like the way it doesn't fit."

Sherry looked in the mirror. The plunging neckline revealed almost a full line of cleavage, and the dress itself barely came down to her knees. "Perfect!" she exclaimed. "I'll get my cell phone."

"No," Steve said. "You don't make a professional portfolio with a cell phone. Lemme get my camera." He came back with his digital camera. Sherry remembered that he'd gotten a free ride for his freshman year in college as the top prize in a statewide photography contest, and he'd used that camera for his entry. She took the opportunity to straighten out the bed and move the clutter away from it.

"Where should I stand? Or sit?" she asked.

"We'll start with how you're standing right now," he said. He positioned himself so that her bed was in the shot and snapped it.

Sherry didn't wait for instruction. She pulled the straps off her shoulder, making the neckline reach almost down to her navel. "How's this?" she asked.

While he noticed the cleavage, his attention was focused more on her shoulders. "You look like some of the R&B album covers from Uncle Jerry's record collection."

"I'll change," she said.

"No, it's perfect for what we're doing," Steve explained. "Put it back up. Now tug it back again, but leave your fingers on it so it looks like I caught you in the middle of it." She did, and he snapped the picture. "Now go ahead and do it." She tugged the sleeves a little further and let the dress drop to the point where the tops of her breasts weren't quite exposed. He snapped that picture as well.

"Should I get on the bed now?" she asked.

"Don't lie down yet; just sit on the edge." Sherry sat on the foot of the bed. "On the side," he told her.

She moved around. So far, her dress had stayed in place. She sat on the edge of the bed as he instructed. She held her hair up. "How's this?" she asked.

"That's a good pose, but I need to change the filter. The sun's coming through the window behind you, and it's almost like a silhouette."

"Then I'll just move to the other side of the bed."

"No!" Steve shouted. "Someone might look through the window and see you."

"What do I care? I'm still decent. More or less."

"I got it," Steve said. "Lift your hair again." She did, and he took the picture.

Sherry slipped her arms out of the sleeves. The falling material covered her breasts, as if straps had come undone on both sides. Steve gulped and took that shot as well. "Should I let it down?" she asked.

"Uh, I dunno. Do you really wanna show pictures like that to a guy you don't know very well?"

"I want to have good pictures ready for when I

do

know him well."

His voice went up. "Well ... okay." She let the dress fall to her waist. Her boobs were in plain view. "Put your hands on the sides, like you're trying to keep the dress from falling down." She did, and he took that picture from several angles as well.

Sherry thought, "I'm going to have Adam, even if I have to go full-on nude for him. Either Steve will take them like any nineteen-year-old horn dog, or he'll get all brotherly on me and try to protect my reputation, and I'll just have to use my own pictures after all." She asked him, "Did you get a good shot?"

Steve looked in the viewer and confirmed, "Yeah. It looks like you're trying to keep it on instead of off, and you did a great job of pretending to be embarrassed about it."

"Great!" Sherry exclaimed, and she jumped up. The dress fell to the floor.

Steve jumped up and closed the blinds. His voice broke as he said, "Look, it's bad enough that a stranger you want to see this is going to see it. You don't need people on the street seeing you!"

"So you're okay with this as long as we have privacy?"

"Well, I'm still not crazy about the idea, but I guess I can live with this."

"Look at me, Stevie," Sherry said.

Steve put the camera down and raised his hands. "Call me Steve, damn it! I'm not a little boy."

For the first time, Sherry felt bad about it. "Okay, Steve. What should I do next?"

"Take your hair and put it over your chest." She did. Steve's hands were shaking. He picked up the ends of her hair and gently moved them. He stepped back and took another shot. He showed the screen to her. "See? He'll see your breasts but not your nipples. You can make him wait until you're ready for him to see them in person."

"What about my underwear?" she asked. "Is it sexy?" It was a sheer black lace panty.

Steve stepped back. "Hard to tell from here," he said. Sherry moved her hair away, exposing her tits again. "Yes. Any guy would love for that to be the last article of clothing he removes. From you." He snapped a picture.

"What about from the back?" she asked. She remembered that she had a full-length mirror on the inside of her door. She closed the door and stood in front of it. She heard the click of his camera. She pulled the hem down to reveal the top of her buttocks. She didn't even ask this time; she heard him click again. "Lemme see," she said.

Steve showed them to her. "We can't use these; I'm in the shot."

"I want 'em anyway," Sherry said. "Not to show Adam, just for my own enjoyment. Sometimes breaking the fourth wall is fun. But, if you don't think we can use 'em, I guess we'll have to redo 'em without the mirror." She moved so she was facing the bed but with her back to Steve, and he re-took both shots.

"Perfect!" Steve told her. "Just a tip here. Don't send 'em all at once. That last one, where you're topless but he's looking from the back? He should see your bare shoulders before he ever sees your breasts."

From there it was natural enough for her to climb onto the bed on all fours. Steve moved to the foot of the bed and looked at her from the side. Looking at her straight, he could see her areola, but her right arm blocked his view of her nipple. He moved a little to his left to get it in view and snapped the picture. "How's it look?" she asked.

Steve showed her. "Your underwear is kinda bunched up. We need to straighten it out."

"Do what you need to," she said.

"You want me to do it?" Steve asked nervously.

"Well, you know what looks good," Sherry replied. His hand shook as he took the elastic between his left thumb and forefinger and pulled it up. Sherry found herself disappointed that he hadn't pulled the other side down. He came back, retook the shot and showed it to her. "I like it!" she said. "Now get a shot where I'm up straight." She got up on her knees and held her boobs up. As soon as she heard the click of the camera, she put her hand inside her panties. She leaned in and whispered, "I want you to photograph me in the nude."

"I think you've got enough to show him!" Steve said. He hurried out of the room, carrying his camera with him.

Sherry followed him without even stopping to cover up. He was already in his own bedroom. Sherry knocked on his door. "You haven't even given me the pictures!"

"I'll put them on a CD for you. Give me an hour."

Sherry sighed. She went back to her room to put her shirt back on and then downstairs to watch another episode of her show. When she was done, she came back to Steve's door. She heard him say, "Sherry," but she was too impatient to try to discern the tone in which he said it.

She knocked but didn't wait. She asked, "How close are you?" and stopped in her tracks.

Steve was leaning back in his chair, his pants at his ankles and his dick in his right hand, watching a slide show on his computer. He screamed, "Get out!" and tried to click out of the pictures, but it was too late. Sherry recognized them as the pictures he'd just taken in her room.

She left and tried to process what she'd seen. At first she was furious that he was using her pictures to masturbate. How dare he use her like that! What an awful, awful-Wait, she'd had to talk him into this. He'd resisted the most revealing pictures. He'd tried to talk her out of the entire effort. She remembered how he shook when his hand got near her underwear, and he outright refused to take any pictures of her pussy. She knew other people with cameras. Why had she sought him out to take these pictures? Oh, God. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God. She wasn't angry any more; she was genuinely sad that she'd upset him.

Sherry went back to Steve's door. She knocked, and this time she waited. "Steve? ... I'm sorry." She noticed that the door wasn't locked and went in anyway. He had pulled his pants back up and was lying on his bed. "I get it now." She took his hand and pulled him until he was on his knees the way she had been in the last picture. She put her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek.

Steve put his hands on her hips and said, "I smile every time I see your face. I see how the corners of your mouth move when you make your little jokes. I hear you complain about guys who don't notice you and wonder if they're blind. Then I hear about the guys that 'notice' you too much and I-"

Sherry put her finger on his lips. "I love you too, Steve. I talk about how good-looking the guys I date are, but the ones I try to hold onto are the ones who remind me of you. You're funny, even when you're not trying to be, you're smart, and you care about me."

"You don't know how long I've been holding it in."

"If it's more than a year, don't tell me," she said. "It'll make every nice thing you've ever done look creepy in hindsight. Besides, you're not exactly the first person who wanted to shoot his big sister."

They both laughed. Steve lied, "It's been just about a year." He moved his hands under Sherry's T-shirt to the small of her back. He kissed her on the lips, and she opened her mouth. He wasn't sure how long he'd wondered what her tongue felt like, but he remembered wishing he could get her under the mistletoe the Christmas before last. Now he knew.

Sherry lifted the hem of her T-shirt. "You don't have to trick me into it," she said.

Steve took his own shirt off and put his arms around her. "Neither do you," he said.

Sherry was so relieved to see that he had pants on when she came in that she hadn't noticed that they were sweat pants, not the jeans he'd worn when he was taking photographs. All the better. She put her hands on his butt and nudged him closer. She could feel his hard cock pressing through the fabric against her pussy. She meant to tell him to take his pants off, but instead of, "Take them off," she said, "Take it off."

Sherry didn't realize her error until Steve put his fingers on the waistband of her panty and pulled it down to her knees. He had his first view of the pussy he'd dreamed about so many times. Her bush was as black as the hair on her head, but it was short enough that he knew she must have shaved it, or at least trimmed it, since the original photo shoot. She pulled the panty the rest of the way off and climbed onto the bed with him. He cupped her right breast in his hand and kissed the nipple. "You are so beautiful," he said.

Sherry kissed him on the lips and rubbed his butt. "And you're really-cute." Steve didn't react as favorably to her compliment as she had to his. "I'm sorry, Stevie." She corrected herself quickly. "I mean, Steve! You're not movie star handsome. You're not athletic. But you're adorable. Let me put it this way. Every time

Playboy

does a spread-"

Steve laughed. "You read

Playboy

? I don't even read it, and I'm their target audience!"

Sherry explained, "One time my friend Trixie swiped a bunch of her brother's and we got curious. Anyway, every time they did a pictorial with 'Girls from whatever Conference', there'd be one girl who takes all her clothes off but covers herself with an oversized stuffed animal. You're like my giant bunny rabbit."

"I can live with that," Steve said. "It's like the other night. I saw a scene from an old movie where a couple's riding around on a bike, but she's on the handle bars. I saw it and imagined it was us, 'cause I remember the time we rode our bikes to the frozen yogurt place together." He tried to wiggle his nose like a rabbit, but he wasn't a gifted mimic.

"You see? That attempt was funnier than a good impression would have been. That's why I love you."

Steve put his hands on Sherry's arms and leaned to the left. Together, they moved onto their sides. Sherry pulled him toward her. They put their arms over each other's hips. Sherry could feel his hard buttocks, and her own naked buttocks were soft to his touch. He put his hand between her thighs, and she lifted her leg. He brought his hand up and rubbed her perineum with the side of his pinky. Sherry showed her approval by lying on her back. Steve pulled his hand away while she lay back and then put it over her pussy. Without even looking down, he sifted through her black pubic hair with his index finger until he felt her lips separating. "It's as soft as I dreamed," he told her.

Sherry kept her hand close to the bedspread and rubbed his cock through his sweat pants. "And you're as hard as I dreamed."

Steve slipped his finger inside her. "You dreamed about my cock?"

"I had a dream once where I was a stripper and you joined me on stage. I felt your hard-on but security took you away before anything else happened. When did you dream about my pussy?"

"About every other week since the first time I saw you in a thong bikini." With this, he added his middle finger.

"Damn, I knew I should've gone with that instead of the lingerie," Sherry said. She got greedy because Steve's fingers felt so good. She pushed his hand back and slid away. To make sure he understood, she stuck her tongue out and ran it from side to side. He kissed the top corner where her lips met and licked the circle that the edges formed. He licked the spaces between the lips on either side, then returned to her holiest of holies. What he lacked in his ability to imitate a rabbit with his nose, he made up with his ability to imitate a worm with his tongue. Sherry reached for his right hand and put it over her breast. He caressed the nipple and the rest of the flesh without missing a beat inside her pussy. "Oh, Steve. Oh, Steve, ..." she cooed. He moved his tongue in a circle and stroked her perineum with his left hand. He touched a spot on the perineum and a spot on her back wall that must have had a nerve connecting them, because feeling them at the same time made her bolt upright. She held his head in firmly, and he delved even deeper inside her. "Shit! Shit! Make your big sister come!" She had barely gotten the words out when she had to arch her back. She saw stars for the next two minutes.