"It's like kissing your sister."
Usually, that phrase has a less than savory connotation. People tend to associate it with a less than desirable outcome, as in contests that end in a tie.
It has a whole different meaning for me, though. When I hear it, I think about my sister, Amy.
Such hasn't always been the case, though, but we've become close in ways that would surprise a lot of people... if they only knew.
Amy's a couple of years older than I am. We were pretty close growing up. Of course there were times where I was the pesky little brother, but that was my job, right? More often than not, I was allowed to tag along, and it seemed like we did just about everything together.
Then she was a teenager. Her interests changed. Amy discovered boys, and suddenly, things were different, though not necessarily in a good way.
Her first real crush was on a boy two years older than her. I never did find out what happened, but I remember one day when mom called her a slut and a tramp as Amy stormed to her room in tears. Like just about everything that troubles teenagers, all of that passed, and Amy recovered with no serious emotional scars to show for it.
As for me, I discovered girls the day Beverly Allen kissed me on the cheek. She and Amy were the best of friends, and Bev, an only child, thought I was the sweetest little brother anyone could ask for.
If she'd only known.
Amy knew, though. She rolled her eyes, and as she pulled her friend away by the hand, I exhaled a deep, airy breath.
Amy quickly set me straight; Bev was her friend, two years older than me, and I had no chance with her. In short, I needed to find a girl my own age.
That was easier said than done, especially given that none were as sophisticated as Bev.
Fast forward a few years. Amy and I were like two pieces to a puzzle.
We weren't inseparable, but there was a strong bond between us. We looked out for each other like any siblings should; more than once, Amy steered me away from a girl she knew was no good for me. Time usually proved her right.
She had a steady boyfriend, but he worked his after school job so much that she and I were able to hang together.
I was sixteen, Amy was eighteen, and the day she graduated high school was a rude awakening. For both of us. We didn't really talk about it, but we both knew things were about to change in ways we weren't prepared for.
She was about to go to college, and for the first time, we would be separated. Really separated.
When she left, the sudden silence at home was deafening. I didn't really appreciate how much having her around meant to me until she wasn't there.
We didn't see a lot of each other; the occasional weekend, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's. Amy didn't come home for spring break; she went to the beach with friends. Mom was apprehensive, I think because she remembered her spring break trips. Dad was still blinded with a false image of his little princess's innocence.
Amy came home for the summer after her freshman year a changed woman. She was different somehow, in a way I couldn't quite figure. We sat down during the summer and worked on a plan that would help me follow her to college the next year after I finished high school.
All too soon, though, it was time for school to start again, and she was gone.
Amy got into an argument with my mom on the phone three weeks later. I don't know what they were fighting about, but I heard mom mention Amy's name as she was yelling into the phone, and when she'd hung up, she and dad had retreated out of earshot to discuss whatever was wrong. Amy called back an hour later to talk to me, still upset, though she wouldn't tell me what was wrong.
Unlike her freshman year, where visits home were once a month regular, September passed, and then October, with no visit from Amy.
My birthday's at the beginning of November, and I turned eighteen on the first Thursday of the month. I was shocked when I came home from school to find Amy's car in the driveway.
I walked through the front door of our house to the sound of the stereo playing.
"Amy?"
I heard a kitchen cabinet door close, and as I entered the living room, Amy appeared in the edge of the kitchen.
"What are you doing home?" I asked dropping my book bag on the couch.
"I thought I'd come home for your birthday," she said. "Surprised?"
"Yeah," I replied as she hugged me.
"Good," she said, kissing me on the cheek. "Happy birthday."
I hugged her back, and we held on to each other long enough that it was awkward before letting go.
"Are you and mom...?"
"Mom and I have some things we need to work out," she said. "This weekend, though, it's your birthday. That's what I'm focused on."
I went out with friends that night and Amy came along, but only after she and mom had discussed what remained to be done for the party we were having at the house the next day.
We got home pretty late, taking off our shoes once in the house to be as quiet as possible, since it looked like our parents were already asleep.
"I'm really glad you came home, Sis," I said.
"Me, too," she said, leaning against the wall outside her room.
She leaned into her room, tossing her shoes in, then stood back up, facing me.
"I couldn't let you turn eighteen and not be here for it," she said.
"After the argument you and mom had," I said, "I wasn't sure if you were going to come home or not."
"I really wish you wouldn't bring that up," she said, hugging me. "Mom and I will work things out. You don't need to worry about that."
I put my arms around Amy, completing the embrace.
"But thanks for being concerned," she said.
Amy kissed me on the cheek and pressed her cheek against mine. A moment later, she pushed back and kissed me again, this time on the lips. I could swear I felt her tongue brush against my lips.
"Happy Birthday, little brother," she said, resting her forehead on my cheek.
"What...? What was that for?" I asked.
Amy looked up at me and smiled as she bit her lip.
"What?" she asked. "I can't kiss my little brother?"
"For starters," I said, "I'm your younger brother. I'm not little."
I had at least thirty, and probably more like forty pounds on her.
"Whatever," she said, shaking her head and continuing to smile at me. "You will always be my little brother."
Her hands gently grasped my face and she kissed me again, lips gently but firmly pressed against mine.
"And I will always, always love you," she said, sliding her arms around my neck and hugging me.
"I love you, too, Sis," I said.
"I know," she said, pulling back and looking at me. "Good night."
Another kiss, this one quick, but affectionate.
"Good night, Sis," I said as she released me and disappeared into her own room to call it a night.
Just that quickly, it was done and over.
I fumbled with the door to my bedroom as I pushed it shut, my mouth suddenly dry and my heart pounding.
It was the end of a long day, and in spite of what had just happened, sleep took me quickly.
Cliff, one of my high school buddies, and I were playing a video game in the living room the next day when Amy walked through on her way to the kitchen. I had just finished killing off his avatar and I noticed he was focused on anything but the TV screen.
"Was that your sister?" he asked.
"Yeah."
Amy walked back into the living room and bent over to get a book off the edge of the fireplace. Denim stretched across her ass.
"Dude," he whispered, "she's hot."
Cliff had to go home early that afternoon, in spite his best efforts to invite himself to stay.
But he'd given me something to think about.
That was it. That's what was different about Amy.
She was no longer a duckling. Like most college students away from home for the first time and living in the dorms, she'd put on a little weight, typically known as 'the freshman ten.' The extra weight she'd gained had filled her lanky frame out nicely, part of it going straight to her tits and ass.
For the first time, I saw Amy in a whole different light, and as she walked past me again, tight jeans hugging her sweetly sculpted ass, knit shirt clinging to her chest, I realized my buddy was right. She was hot.
Late in the afternoon, friends of the family came over and we officially celebrated my birthday. After the party was over, Amy and I went out with friends again.
The night ran really late, and the two of us practically stumbled up the stairs holding on to one another we were laughing so hard.
When we were off the stairs, Amy turned and leaned back against the wall, still holding on to my arm. She pulled me to her, holding me tight.
"I'm gonna miss you when I go back tomorrow," she said. "I've had a lot of fun this weekend."
"Me, too," I said. "You'll be back in a couple of weeks, though."
"I will," she said, looking at me.
We stood there awkwardly.
"We'd better go to bed," she said.
"Yeah," I said, "we probably should."
"Good night, Andy," she said.
Before I could reply, she kissed me, and like the night before, it was full on the lips.
"Good night, Sis," I said, watching as she disappeared into her room, closing the door behind her.
The next day, she went back to school for the brief time remaining before Thanksgiving, leaving me to ponder the moments of intimacy we'd shared.
Thanksgiving came and went, and we were all too busy eating turkey, watching football and looking forward to the holidays to even notice the days fly by.
A few weeks later, the fall semester ended, and Amy came home for the holidays.
Amy kissed me when we both happened to find ourselves under the mistletoe, but I didn't really think anything about it, because mom did, too. The difference, though, was that Amy snuggled against me on the couch to watch a movie late one night; mom did not do that.
Several days later, on New Year's Eve, we'd gone our separate ways to celebrate with our own friends. Shortly before midnight, I got a call from Bev.
"Andy," she said, "you need to come get Amy."
"Is she okay?" I asked.
"She will be," she said. "Right now, though, she needs you to come and get her."
When I got there, Bev and Denise, another of Amy's friends, were doing their best to keep her from going after Kelly. Amy had witnessed Dave, her boyfriend, kissing another girl, Kelly, and she wasn't happy. Worse, she was drunk.
Staggering drunk, it turned out, as we made our way to my car. Ten minutes later, we were home, and I was glad mom and dad were at a party of their own; they didn't need to see Amy like this.
I don't know how we managed, but somehow we got up the stairs as Amy was waving her arms around, making sure I knew and understood what a total bitch Kelly was.
