My Imaginary Friend

Author's note:

This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons or events is purely coincidental. All characters engaging in sexual activity are over 18.

We've all heard the expression: "I'm a trained professional. Don't try this at home." Well, I'm NOT a trained professional and I DID try this at home. So far, nothing has exploded, and all my body appendages are still attached. LOL.

I hope you enjoy a little bit of my imagination.

*****

My Imaginary Friend.

My name is Eunice. I am 20 years old. I have natural red hair and a tall, slender body. My boobs are a small B-cup, and I wish they were bigger, but my legs are my best asset. Guys are always looking at my legs when I wish they'd look at my chest. Oh well, I guess I'll have to work with what God gave me. I'm starting my second year of college. I attend Rhode Island University where I am majoring in fire science. I'm taking a minor in underwater firefighting. Yes, laugh if you want, but that's a real thing. There are certain metal alloys that can burn under water. I plan to work as a specialist diving on oil rigs and super tankers It is dangerous work, but it pays incredibly well. I plan to make my first million before I'm 30.

My studies have been quite demanding, and I have only seen my family once since starting school. I need a break after a nasty break up with my boyfriend, so I have decided to go and visit my brother, Tom. My brother is three years older than me and has always been a socially awkward nerd. He is attending some obscure college in Minnesota, where he is majoring in archeology. How he'll get a job with a useless degree like that is a mystery to me. But it is his life and he can screw it up any way he chooses. My brother is reasonably good looking, but has only had one girlfriend that I know of. That was my friend Georgia from high school. They broke up after only a couple of weeks. Georgia confided in me one night as we got drunk that she had given him a handjob once, but they hadn't done anything else.

It was zero dark thirty when I got my ticket and boarded the plane for Nicaragua. I had my passport in my purse and my arms were aching from all those pesky immunizations that were required. I was looking forward to seeing my brother for two weeks and reconnecting with him. With three years difference in our ages, we hadn't been especially close until after he left for college. Since then, we had gotten closer as time went by and now we talked on skype at least once a week. I settled in for the flight. After takeoff I put my laptop into airplane mode and was reviewing Tom's latest email about the dig project that he was helping with and the cool stuff to do there.

There wasn't a lot of night life there in the small town near the dig site. Tom had a small flat in town that he used on weekends. The rest of the time, he stayed in a tent at the dig site. I would stay in his flat and could visit him at the site for an hour or so each day under the guise of bringing him lunch. The dig site was thirteen kilometers from the town. This was great for me because by putting his lunch into a small backpack, I could run to the site each day. I needed to keep up my daily running regimen and stay in the best physical shape possible. Firefighting isn't for wimps and as a woman, I had to be stronger and faster than my male counterparts in order to be taken seriously.

The plane landed at Managua and I had to pass through customs. They were so thorough that I wondered if they were going to strip search me and do a body cavity search. The two customs agents smirked as they went through my luggage and found my favorite vibrator. They held it up where it could be easily seen by all and chattered away in their native language for almost a full minute. My face was as red as a 1960's fire engine. I guess they concluded that I wasn't trying to undermine their culture or economy by smuggling fake cocks into the country, and I was given the all clear. It took me twenty minutes to repack my bags, starting with my little friend. By the time I had everything back into shape, I heard Tom's voice behind me.

"Hey sis, I see you made it. How was your flight?"

"TOM!!" I screamed, and flew into his arms giving him a great big hug. I pulled back after a minute and looked at him. "Damn! You look good! You are all tan and what are those things on your arms? They look like muscles, but that couldn't be true of my geeky brother." I chuckled.

"You are looking pretty damned good yourself, Uni." (My nickname within the family.) He replied. "I'll bet you have to beat the guys off with a stick. But let's get going. We have a way to go before we get home. You should go to the bathroom and change. You'll roast in that outfit as soon as we step out of the terminal. With the climate here, less is more when it comes to clothing."

I took my carry-on bag to the bathroom and returned wearing a baggy T-shirt and a pair of boy shorts. Tom smiled and nodded. "That will be much better." He said. Then he led me to the commuter terminal and we boarded another plane. Well, it was more like a model airplane in my mind. There was a total of four seats on the plane, and one of those was taken up by the pilot. We flew for about an hour during which time I held my brother's arm. I wasn't sure that thing wouldn't kill us. After reaching the ground without crashing, we took a hired jeepney to the village where Tom's flat was.

The flat was basically one big room with a porch on the rear. There were no walls to divide the living from the sleeping areas, but Tom had positioned a bookcase to make a sort of divider. I was soaked in sweat from the heat and the stress. Tom's flat wasn't air conditioned. Only the very rich had air conditioning and then only in the larger towns and cities. I wanted to take a shower, so Tom showed me the facilities. They were outside on a sort of back porch area. There were only two walls and there was no shower curtain. Tom apologized, saying that he had gotten so accustomed to the local ways that he had forgotten that it would be an issue during my visit. He promised that he wouldn't look.

I looked at the shower area and got culture shock. There was no showerhead. There was a water spigot about 18 inches off the floor and a bucket underneath it. The floor sloped gently toward a drain in the corner. Seeing my confused look, Tom explained that this was the local standard and that the design was both a cost saving and a water saving measure. He went to sit down and faced the front of the flat so his back was toward me. Mostly that is, he sat at a bit of an angle. By now, I was too hot, tired and sweaty to care, so I stripped down and got started.

I ran some water into the bucket and dumped it over my head. The cool water felt great and my nipples immediately reacted to the change in temperature. They stood out from my tits like beacons. Having gotten wet, I grabbed my shampoo and began to work it through my hair. I was surprised at how nice it felt as the surrounding air, stirred by a slight breeze, mixed with the cool of the water I had poured over myself. I abandoned my hair for the moment and squeezed some soap onto a wet washcloth. I started washing my body and began to feel somewhat human again. I soaped my arms and then proceeded to my front. I got tingles as the washcloth passed over my nipples and across the underside of my breasts. My nipples are very sensitive and even just showering, they send jolts of electricity to my pussy. I can rarely resist masturbating in the shower because of it.

I glanced at Tom, and caught him watching me. He turned his head and looked down as if studying something beside the chair. Tom thought he had fooled me. I continued washing. Tom kept stealing glances at me, but there wasn't much I could do, so I ignored him. I wanted to masturbate, but I really didn't want my brother to see that. It was bad enough that he watched while I ran the soapy washcloth over my ass and pussy, but to masturbate in front of my brother would be going too far. I resigned myself to the fact that I would have to wait till Tom was at the dig site. Then I could play with myself nearly all day if I wanted. I'd be horny for a while since this was Friday late afternoon and Tom wouldn't be going back to work till Monday morning. My clit ached! Then, I realized that I was in more trouble. I couldn't rinse my long hair and hold the bucket over my head at the same time. DAMN!

I thought and thought about how I might get the job done, but I finally gave up. I called out to my brother. "Hey Tom. I need your help. Would you come over here?"

"Uh, sis, I uh, uh" he stuttered in reply.

"Look! I've seen you sneaking several peeks at me, so you have already seen me naked. I need help rinsing my hair so get your pervert ass over here and take a good long look while holding the bucket, OK? I can't leave my hair all full of shampoo. So quit thinking with the little head and don't even think about touching me. I don't like it either so let's just get this done!"

Tom got up and turned my direction. His thin shorts were tented. He came over and filled the bucket with fresh rinse water, never taking his eyes off my body. I directed him in pouring the water onto my head a little at a time so that I could rinse my hair thoroughly. Then I had him draw another bucket to rinse my body. I could manage this part by myself, but by now what did it matter? I let Tom continue to help me and get an eyeful of my body. Tom seemed fascinated with my tits until I started rinsing my lower body. He was almost drooling, and I thought his eyes would pop clear out of his head when I rinsed my pussy. I am very particular about keeping my pussy clean. While he watched, I ran my fingers up and down spreading my labia and getting the rinse water through all the folds and taking my time to be sure I didn't miss anyplace. I tried my best to hide from my brother the small orgasm I had while rinsing my pussy. I'm not sure if he noticed or not. Done rinsing, I reached for the towel, and Tom went back to his chair. This time, he turned it to face me and watched openly while I dried myself. I walked over to my suitcase and pulled out my bikini to put on.

Now that I had clothes on, (Sort of.) Tom and I set about making some supper. Tom had become a wonderful cook and made us a delicious meal. Of course, by then boiled cardboard would have tasted good to me. I was hungry! Tom served a wonderful local wine with supper. We ate mostly in silence as we both felt awkward about the shower thing. A second glass of wine after supper did me in. The day's travel had caught up with me. Tom gave me his bed and he took the couch. I didn't want to kick him out of his own bed, but I was too tired to argue.

I awoke to sunlight and the smell of fresh brewed coffee. Tom was up cooking breakfast and I was famished. After breakfast, I changed out of my bikini into some day clothes. My brother shook his head. "Did you not pay attention to what I told you in those emails? So far, your clothes haven't been appropriate for the climate here. Show me what else you packed."

I did. Tom looked at a couple of my outfits and said that they would work, but the rest of what I had packed would be like wearing long johns in hell. "I'm taking you shopping," he announced. What woman doesn't like to go shopping? I thought. Our plan for the day was made.

We returned from our day of shopping and Tom poured us both a glass of wine. This was a different wine than the one he served last night, but it was a local wine also. This wine was sweet and fruity and was perfect to sip on while relaxing. By now, we had forgotten the awkwardness of the shower and were reviewing our purchases. I was amazed at how inexpensive things were here. I had gotten five new outfits. Tom paid for them all saying that I should let him because I had spent all that money on plane tickets. He had helped me pick out flattering (In his opinion.) outfits that were appropriate for the climate. I thought they were a bit too diaphanous and revealing for the most part, but none of them were actually see through.

Tom had bought a curtain and rod for the shower. Now he could help me rinse my hair without being treated to a view of my naked body. He could lift the bucket and pour it over the top of the shower curtain. I don't think he was totally happy about that, but he wasn't going to admit that he wanted to perv on his sister's body either. (No matter how true it might have been.) Of course, it would also keep me from seeing him naked in the shower, so maybe his own modesty came into play a bit. After our glass of wine, Tom said that he needed to study for a bit and I went to take a nap. I was still adjusting to the jet lag.

Tom woke me up a little later, but it seemed like I had just closed my eyes a second ago. He took me out to the fanciest restaurant in town for supper. This wasn't saying much as it was a small town, but we had great service and fantastic food. Tom had arranged with the owner, who was also the chief cook and bottle washer, for a special sampler of the menu. We had small portions of six different entrees from the menu and were stuffed when we left for home. Tom selected a local craft beer, while I ordered water with lemon. Tom stopped the waitress, who was also the owner's daughter, and changed my water to a dry red wine that was a popular import. When the waitress left, Tom explained that if I drank the local water, I would spend the rest of my visit no more than six feet from the toilet. I hadn't thought of that and was happy that my brother was looking out for me. I had no wish to spend the next 12 days with my panties around my knees.

After supper, we came home and sat talking with yet another wine. When had my brother become so knowledgeable about wine, anyway? All I ever remembered him drinking was the cheapest beer one could buy. We talked and began to catch up with each other's lives. You know, there are some things you just don't want to share over the skype line even if nobody else is privy to the conversation. As we talked, Tom kept our glasses filled.

Finally, we worked our way around to each other's relationship status. I was the first up for this topic. Not because I wanted to be, but it just worked out that way, so I went with it. I told my brother about Josh. Tom knew that Josh and I had been going out for about six months, but now he wanted to know about our breakup.

I explained that Josh had gotten bored with our sex life. We had had plenty of sex. We fucked like rabbits, tried all sorts of positions and locations. We did oral vaginal and even anal sex in every position we could think of. I was happy, but for some reason Josh wasn't. We had talked about it one night after a couple of beers. He wanted me to agree to a Dom/sub relationship. I hadn't been thrilled with the idea, so I had asked him to go into detail about his vision of how it would work. Josh wanted me to always be naked when we were at home and to call him Master. He wanted my immediate and unquestioning obedience to anything he asked, especially sexual things. I hadn't been comfortable with that, but I figured I should hear him out, so I asked him what kind of things he might ask me to do. Josh had replied that he might have me go out to the mailbox in the lobby of the building in a skimpy leather bikini with a collar and him holding the leash. He might have some friends over and have me blow one of them or fuck them while they played video games.

By that point, I was done listening and told Josh a firm NO! I wasn't going to do that now or ever. Not with him and not with anyone, so he'd better leave that as a fantasy because it would never become a reality as long as I was involved. Josh had gotten all huffy and ordered me to get naked and suck his cock. I had laughed in his face. Then, Josh had raised his hand to hit me, but I dodged him. I had run to my bed and reached under it.

I was trying to grab the big canister of pepper spray that I kept there. Instead, my hand found my softball gear and I pulled out my bat. Josh was half drunk, horny and angry. That isn't a good mix. He had grabbed my other arm and tried to literally rip my shirt off. I had wrenched myself free of his grasp and in doing so, the bat smacked him in the head. The blow hadn't been hard enough to cause damage, but he was stunned for a moment. I had used that moment to put a few steps between us.

Josh had then growled "Fucking Cunt" and lunged at me. I screamed bloody murder and swung the bat. It connected with his shoulder. Josh crumpled to the floor, moaning in pain. (We later found out that I had broken his clavicle.) Hearing my screams, my roommate came on the run from the other side of our little apartment. She sat her full 160 pounds of weight on Josh's upper torso and grabbed his arms pinning him as he yelped with renewed pain and struggled to get enough breath to fight us.

The police were called. They saw the bruise on my arm and my torn shirt. They took Josh to jail. The whole thing got messy, but I wasn't charged as it was clear that I had acted in self-defense. Josh wasn't so lucky. He was charged with aggravated assault, attempted rape and a few other things. He was going to do some serious time once he was convicted. But, his daddy had bought him an expensive lawyer who plea bargained the charges down to simple assault, and drunk and disorderly, with the condition of a restraining order against him having further contact with me.

Tom was livid upon hearing my story. He was already dialing the phone to buy a plane ticket to Rhode Island where he was going to kill the bastard that hurt his little sister. It took me a half hour and two more glasses of wine to calm him down and assure him that he didn't need to murder the asshole.

Then we skirted around the whole relationship subject for a while. I had cooled the boiling pot down to a simmer, but I wanted it back to room temperature. By now, Tom and I had finished the second bottle of wine. I went to the kitchen in the corner of the flat and opened a third bottle.

After about an hour, we were both laughing again and joking with each other. I said: "OK, your turn big brother. Who is on your relationship radar these days? You never dated much that you talked about. Got anybody serious in the picture?"

Tom said: "No. Well, there is Sally. She's sort of my girlfriend."

"Who is Sally? Tell me about her. Can I meet her?"

"Well, it is kind of strange..." my brother started out. By now we had enough wine in us that neither of us was feeling any pain. We were at that point where it is impossible to keep your mouth shut even though you know that by saying anything at all, you are fucking up big time.

Tom took another gulp of wine and nearly spilled it. We were way past the sipping stage by now. He laughed. "OH Shit! Almost spilled it. That would be alcohol abuse. You'd have had to send me to rehab." We both laughed.

Then Tom continued. He told me that during his second week at the dig site he had unearthed a small clay pot. It was not much bigger than a soup mug. The pot had some lettering on it. His dig partner, Sam, had pointed out the lettering and Tom had read the ancient language saying the words aloud. He had studied the language once he found out the suspected age of the dig site. While he had studied enough to pronounce the words, he hadn't developed enough vocabulary to know their meaning. He repeated the words more slowly and then one more time quickly. He hoped that by doing so, something in the back of his mind would remember some of the information that he had only skimmed in a hurry while studying the ancient language.

As soon as he spoke the words for the third time, a beautiful naked woman appeared in front of him. She spoke to him telepathically and said that she was a servant who had been imprisoned in the pot by a Witch whom she had angered. She explained that the Witch had set the terms of her punishment. The terms were that she could not be released from the pot for two hundred years and then only by a virgin reciting the words on the pot three times. Now she was bound to serve her new master forever. The naked woman said that her name was Sally and that she would go for now, but she would always remain close by to tend to her master's needs.