...All characters in this story are at least 18 years old...
*
My sister and I have always been very close, being only 10 months apart in age (I was the younger). Our family moved around a lot due to my father's job, and we learned early on that if we stuck by one another, it would make things a whole lot simpler, as we were never able to keep any long-term friends due to all the moving. So we spent nearly every afternoon of our adolescence together.
Pam really began to blossom in high school. She turned into quite the looker -- she already had a heart-melting smile, beautiful light blue eyes which were wonderfully accented by a smattering of freckles on her face, and long, curly, auburn hair. But what was really becoming quite clear was how special she looked with her strong, muscular legs that found their way up to a very taut ass and her amazing breasts that were really beginning to turn guys' heads. By our senior year (we were both held back a year, due mostly to bouncing around from school to school because of our father's job) she was a full C cup, but it was never "too much" the way that large breasts can sometimes be. No, they were absolutely perfect.
By this point, I had also developed a physique that was also garnering some attention. My father had finally settled down about a couple of years prior so we were able to take root in a small New England town. I had joined the baseball team my sophomore year, but wasn't quite good enough to become a starter until I was a senior By then, I had turned 18 and was really getting quite good at hitting. The captain of the baseball team -- Steve, also a senior (who shared the same first name as I, though I usually went by Stephen) -- had been dating my sister for awhile and he and I hit it off well.
One thing that had changed somewhat was Pam's overall demeanor, and the reaction it was having on me. Though she hadn't allowed herself to get involved with any guys when we were on the move, and now that we'd settled and she had begun dating Steve, she was now far more outgoing and flirtatious. Many of the baseball guys joked about it with both Steve and I, but we took it all in stride. But sometimes it was admittedly frustrating to hear other guys talking about how badly they wanted to fuck my sister. I have to admit, there were times that I'd find myself checking her out and getting a bit aroused. It was hard not to...she had taken to wearing pretty revealing clothing -- short mini-skirts, low-cut shirts, sweaters that seemed to be a size too small for her (I still fondly remember one that looked to be made of the same stuff as those strawberry-shortcake ice cream bars. To this day, if I see one of those ice cream treats, I nearly get a hard-on). And her mannerisms around me were different than they used to be too. I think I had done such a good job at becoming "one of the guys" that the same flirtatious behavior she showed around them she had begun to show around me.
Both of my parents worked until the early evening, so for a few hours after school she and I were home alone. Pam liked to shower when she first got home from school, and there were many times where she'd come fresh from the bathroom with only a tiny towel wrapped around her. She'd pause in the living room and have a conversation with me, showing off her long, creamy-skinned legs and freckled shoulders. As we'd talk, the top of that towel would drop a little lower...and a little lower...and a little lower, until the tops of her areolas would begin to show. It was always at that point that I would begin to stammer and be unable to look away, and she'd say something like "Ohhh, I guess I better go get dressed...It's probably embarrassing for you to have to talk to me while I'm practiacally exposing myself like this...look how red you're getting!" Embarrassed? No. Flustered and incredibly turned on? Yes. And sometimes the towel seemed to shrink in the opposite direction. These were the times that she'd actually come in and sit down to talk to me, with just that towel covering her. Again, the same thing: as we talked, that towel would ride up and up and up until it was just inches away from showing off the Promised Land. She'd get up, say something else about me being embarrassed, and tussle my hair as she walked past.
There were other things, too. Our conversations had turned a lot to relationships. She would ask my opinion a lot on different experiences she was having with Steve. She was very jealous of this other girl that was seemingly trying to catch his eye, and would ask my advice on how to handle the situation. She asked how I was doing with the ladies (not too badly, actually). She'd ask me if the other guys talked about her at all. She really seemed to like their attention.
And then one day, a day in which I was feeling very horny, she had her shower and came out of the bath with the towel wrapped around her. She stopped to talk to me in the living room again, and the towel was parted a little higher up her thigh than usual. I can't even remember what we were talking about when that damn towel accidentally dropped to the floor, landing mostly behind her. She yelped a little, turned around and quickly bent over to pick it up. The whole thing lasted for about 4.2 seconds, but in my mind's eye it all happened in slow motion. I had a wonderful, yet fleeting, glimpse of her freckle-covered tits, and her reddish-brown patch of hair covering her lower womanhood. I also had a tremendous look at her perfect ass. I had expected her to run off, but she didn't. She just hastily wrapped it back around her, turned back to face me and continued talking. I was as hard as I'd ever remembered being before, and I knew that from the position I was in, she'd clearly be able to tell (when I'm hard I'm easily a thick 7 inches -- tough to conceal in a pair of gym shorts). I didn't even care that she would see. And yes, she certainly noticed. I could tell by her stuttered speech and her own flushed complexion that she had indeed noticed; and there was also the fact that she couldn't stop staring at my crotch. Yes, there was all that, and one other tell-tale sign: I could see her nipples harden beneath the fabric of the towel. They looked incredible, and long! She concluded the point she was trying to make about something or other and went up to her room to finish getting dressed. I followed shortly after to go to my own room to jerk off. It was the first time that I had consciously imagined my own sister as I lied in my bed and stoked myself off. I think I saw stars when I finally came. I had just finished cleaning everything up when I heard a soft knock on my door.
"Stephen, can I come in?" If she had been any sooner, I don't know what I would have done. I quickly hopped back on my bed and told her to come in. She was wearing a pair of pink shorts, and a tight little t-shirt with the name and mascot of our school baseball team on it. She wasn't wearing a bra. "Stephen, can I talk to you about something personal?" She came over and sat next to me on the bed. "It's very personal, are you sure you don't mind?''
"Of course not, Pam."
"I need your advice on something. Steve wants me to have sex with him. I've never had sex before, and I don't know what to do. I mean, I know what to do," and with that she looked up at me, our eyes locking. I was beginning to feel my cock beginning to stir again. Her face grew a little more red. She was looking me in the eyes when she said, "I mean, I've done a lot of stuff already." She licked her lips and I began feeling a little dizzy. She went on, but looked away again. "Remember the game last week when Steve hit those two home runs? I finally mustered up enough guts to give him a blowjob that night after the game. Before that, I'd only given him handjobs. I've let him go down on me before, and oh god, that was amazing." As she said this, drawing out the syllable of 'god' as sort of a low moan, she threw her head back and closed her eyes. Her nipples were very hard now, and looked to be standing out about a half inch from her mouth-watering tits. I could only see one of her hands, and began to wonder exactly where the other one was. Could she be discreetly playing with herself? She had sort of covered her lap with a little bit of my blanket when she first sat down. "But I don't know if I want to let him really inside of me yet. I don't think I love him, but I'm afraid that if I don't let him fuck me soon..." (hearing my sister say "fuck" for the first time -- and mean it -- was an incredible turn on) "...I think he might break up with me, and I don't want to stop dating him...yet. I would like to have sex with him. I mean, he's so big, and I love the feel of his dick when I'm holding it and when I'm blowing him..."
I couldn't believe Pam was being this honest and open with me...I mean we'd always been close, but nothing like this. And I wasn't about to ask her to stop. Once again I was rock hard, and not in a position to conceal it too well. Pam's eyes were still closed, and her breathing had become somewhat labored. She had stopped talking, and there was definitely movement coming from under the blanket. She was licking her lips. I decided I should try to shift my position now, and as I did so, she opened her eyes and looked right down to the tent in my shorts. She moaned out an "Ohhh god" and quickly got to her feet. "Oh god, Stephen, I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to..." She seemed almost ready to cry. She turned and ran to her room and slammed her door behind her. I couldn't help but notice the dark spot on the fabric of her shorts over her crotch. I got up, adjusted myself a little and went to go after her to let her know it was all right. When I got outside her door I paused before knocking to try to hear if she was crying. What I heard instead was her headboard lightly hitting up against the wall and her voice saying "Oh god...oh fuck...oh god...oh my god...oh fuck...yes...yes...YES!" with a few moans and groans as well. The thought that my sister was masturbating put me over the top, and I dropped my shorts right there and jerked off for the second time in about 20 minutes. I came into my hand and waddled off to the bathroom with my shorts around my ankles. I hadn't even thought of whether or not Pam could have been aware of my heavy breathing and flesh-pounding outside her door.
I didn't see Pam again for the rest of the night. Steve had come by to pick her up before dinner, and I was already asleep before she came home. In fact, it seemed Pam was avoiding me for the next week or two, as I really only ser her briefly in passing and even then she didn't seem to look me in the eye.
I had inadvertantly found out from one of the baseball guys that she had indeed had sex with Steve. I wasn't upset that he'd let a couple of the guys know -- that's what guys do -- but I was glad that he didn't make a big fuss about it to me, nor did he treat me any differently. Eventually, Pam and I slipped back into our old routine of talking and getting along, and it seemed that at least she had forgotten about the little 'incident.' Back were the days of me watching tv or playing video games in the living room and her coming out of the bath with just the towel wrapped around her. Except now the flirting seemed a little more...sexual. She would talk about one of her friends and say things like "I'd bet you'd like to get between her legs!" and "I've seen you eyeing her tits, your little horn dog!" and "So-and-so is such a slut. I walked in on her giving her boyfriend a blowjob when I went to her house...I can't say I blame her, though, he's hung like a horse." If I didn't know any better, I would have thought she was trying to get a rise out of me. And, to be fair, she usually did. But nothing out of the ordinary happened after that, really. That is until that summer.
We had both graduated and Pam was planning on going out-of-state for college. She was still dating Steve, who wasn't planning on going to the same school she was. In fact, Steve and I were planning on staying in-state, and going to the same school, both with baseball scholarships. Pam and I talked a lot about the situation, and she confided in me that she was afraid that they would break up, and that they both avoided talking about their future. She told me that she was planning on having "the talk" with him soon, though because it was really eating away at her.
It was about half-way through the summer when she knocked on my door one early afternoon (I was a late sleeper) to tell me that our parents had explained to her earlier in the morning that one of my father's uncles had passed away and that they would be gone for a few days to attend the funeral, which was in Florida. Since it was so short-notice, and since she and I had never met the man, they decided just to go by themselves. They told her they'd be back in less than a week.
