About a week ago, I had called my sister, out of options, and apparently out of pride, and asked her for a place to stay. She immediately agreed and I moved in with her only a few days later. Although I had only intended to stay with her for maybe a couple of weeks, the details of my sorrowful life seemed too much for her to be willing to let me go on so easily. And as I sat on the couch of my sister's one-story ranch-style home, located in the pine barrens of New Jersey, I realized it would be my bed for the foreseeable future.
To make the story quick, I guess I would describe myself as a demanding person. At that time, I had lived with my girlfriend Kathrine, and I had demanded a lot from her. I was far from a slave driver who would force her to take on the total weight of our chores. Instead, I tried to change her, and change the type of person she was. The truth is, no woman has ever really been right for me, and as much as I think I like them, or want to make it work, there is always something missing that causes me to push them away.
As I left work that day with my personal affairs all neatly packed into a box after my boss offered me a not so optional permanent vacation from the company, along with about 15% of the office, I did not intend to start a fight with Kathrine. She, unfortunately, had other plans. Instead, she also opted to send me on a vacation, and as the apartment was technically in her name, the destination was anywhere but there. This was not due to me losing the job, but a rather unfortunate timing that both would grow sick of me on the same day. But as I was a sub-par worker, and a sub-par boyfriend, I did not put much blame on either of them. Kathrine however, allowed me the courtesy of the couch while I gathered my things.
With no place to work, no place to stay, and because of the cost of living in the city, no savings, The only person I could call was my sister. She had moved out of our parent's home about a year before me, moving down to southern New Jersey, to a lot of people's bewilderment. But she said it was the ideal place to live and commute. So I became a true couch surfer, from the couch of my ex-girlfriend to the couch of my sister.
My sister Carrie and I have always been very close, this continued through text messages and calls after we geographically grew apart, so I was thankful, although not at all surprised when she agreed to let me stay with her. Of the 3 or so years she lived there, to the best of my knowledge she lived alone, so I doubted the intrusion would be all that stressful for her.
The thing I was not prepared for however was the enthusiasm she had in making sure I was able to get my life back on track. Although if you asked me, I did not consider it a complete derailment, Carrie said otherwise. Instead, on the third night with her, she presented me with "The Guide to Un-Fucking Your Life", a physical guide she had created to present me with the tips and goals I could strive for in my miserable life. I attempted to explain that I just needed a couple of weeks to land an interview, but she insisted it came with the cost of admission.
"Rule 1:" I read aloud, "always keep a clean environment." This was hardly anything that needed to be stated, as I was not particularly known to be messy. "Rule 2: apply to at least 5 jobs a day. 4 reasonable positions, 1 dream job/company." That also seemed fair. "'Rule 3: Never say'... 'no'? Like a job?" I asked, expecting this rule to be of a beggar's mindset.
"To anything," she said in return, "one of the skills you need to succeed is to be open to anything, stop saying 'no' and I am sure you will be a lot happier!"
"Ok? I guess I can try that..." I said, although this seemed a bit out of place and impractical to me. I know we had both seen 'Yes Man', where Jim Carry was forced to only say yes. At this point, it seemed more like softcore plagiarism on her part.
"Like next weekend, when we go for a hike!" she cheered.
"Uh- well hiking isn't really my thing..." I said, quickly attempting to weasel out of whatever plans she seemed to have in her mind.
I could see her face form into a frown, "what did I just say?" she asked, clearly displeased by my lack of enthusiasm.
"Not to say 'no'?" I asked flatly.
"Ah, so you do know how to follow rules!" she said, congratulating me mockingly. I think I got the picture, although I highly doubted I would be thrown out, she wanted to play a version of 'my way or the highway', and I supposed it wouldn't hurt to play along. Although my honest opinion was that this book of rules would not make me any more successful in achieving my dreams. "I will let you finish the rest of that guide in your own sweet time. I am sure it has been a rough couple of nights on the couch, but I will try to get the spare room cleaned out enough for you in the next few days."
"Thank you, but you don't have to, I will only be a little while." I attempted to plead with her, not trying to make her roll out the red carpet for me in her own home.
"I just want you to have a place to stay, and I want you to feel like you have a place to stay," she said, "and you don't have to keep mentioning how you only need a couple of weeks, you can stay as long as you need, you're my brother, and this isn't some Airbnb."
"Thank you, Carrie," I said, and clearly by the look on her face, she was proud to be so accommodating to me.
"Well, what time is it? like twelve? Sleep is calling me, do you want me to get the light?" she asked, looking over at the wall clock which was indeed just past midnight.
"Yeah, that sounds fine." I agreed. But as I started to grab the pillow and blanket she had given me, I watched as Carrie walked over to the corner lamp and bent over the arm of the couch reaching for it. As she did, the bottom of her very short red shorts came up, giving me a fair view of the lines and shapes of her butt. Just beyond the lining of the shorts, I could see the seam of what appeared to be white panties. I watched as she continued to reach, eventually finding the twist knob, and switching off the light.
Carrie was not a very shy person concerning her body as we were growing up. Instead, she seemed to take no issue in walking around the house in her bikini an hour or so before we left for the beach or leaving the bathroom in only a towel because her clothes were left in her room. And since coming to stay with her, it's become clear that she had a certain level of comfort in her own home. In just three days I have seen the 'towel walk' twice, nice pairs of leggings that complimented her long legs, tops that offer a large amount of cleavage on her already ample breasts, and very short shorts.
Leaning back from the light, she pulled down her t-shirt which had now come up only slightly, seeming more paranoid over that, than the shorts that remained very high on her smooth exposed legs. As she climbed down from the couch, I watched as she turned and walked down the hall to her room, both of which were visible from my makeshift bed.
"Goodnight!" she called, just before closing the door.
"Goodnight!" I called back, watching the door cut off my view into the bedroom. I continued to watch the light below the door, following the shadow revealed underneath. As the light was extinguished, I fell back onto the couch and imagined she was here again, in her tight t-shirt and bright red shorts. I imagined her pulling the t-shirt up over her head, letting her large breasts fall out, pulling her pants and white panties down, and just standing in front of me, completely nude. After conjuring this image, I allowed my hands to drift below my waistline. With one hand pulling my shorts down, the other reached in and pulled my erect penis out. As my sister lay in bed, potentially drifting off to sleep, I sat on her couch and began to masturbate.
The aspect of my life that I never shared with anyone was that I was in love with my sister Carrie. Just about every time I masturbate, I fantasize about being with her. It felt under control in my 'normal' life, but since reuniting with her again, I feel like I have been hit with a tidal wave of emotions. Although, a lot of it is genuine love and admiration of my sister, a lot of it was also the lust I feel towards her. So close, but always out of reach. As a result, I have masturbated at least twice a day since moving in, which is not something I am entirely proud of.
Every so often she would bend over something or jump up in exaggeration, exposing her ass or making her boobs bounce. Sometimes even just laying on the couch if my eyes caught her legs in just the right way was enough to get me going. A lot of different things could set me off about her, and I would need to excuse myself to the restroom, only to stand there and rub my throbbing cock to completion.
Just like now as she offered her comfort and generosity, I molested her with my eyes as she turned off the light. Even so, I lay on the couch, stroking my cock to my own sister, in my imagination as she sat naked across from me.
"Bro, your cock is so fucking big, I can't wait to feel it inside me," she would say, spreading her legs in front of me and exposing what I could only imagine her pussy looked like. I stood up, but instead of climbing on top of the imaginary image of my sister, I walked to the bathroom with my cock still in hand. Quickly leaning myself against the white porcelain sink as I enter and stroking myself harder. Carrie is kneeling in front of with her mouth open wide as she fingers herself with one hand and plays with her tits with the other.
"Cum on my face bro, shoot your hot white load all over your sister's slutty face!" she begs. Instead of standing there and cumming right through her onto the floor, I grab a hand full of toilet paper and quickly cum into it. I manage to catch it all, and I flush the sticky wad down the toilet. I wash my hands and clean myself up while I stand in the bathroom alone. Before long I was back on my makeshift bed, as the hands of the clock reached 12:30 in the morning, I had just enough time to feel shame for my perversion before falling asleep.
That weekend we finally hit the road after a light morning of packing before the hike. Carrie was like a dog with bark and bite, unlike those friends who invite you to this or that, but never seem to go. Instead, I watched as she threw her light backpack into the back seat of her SUV and climbed in behind the wheel, her tan hiking shorts looking like something an archaeologist would wear. She winced as the heat of the leather seats burned the exposed parts of her body, which was anything the shorts and tank top she was wearing was not covering.
We spent most of the drive with the radio off, discussing life. I finally told her about Katherine, and she sounded sorry for me, not that I was looking for sympathy.
"To be honest, I feel... revealed." I said, "I think I knew it wasn't working for a while, but sometimes I think being complacent is better than being alone." She didn't have a response for me but took one of her hands off the wheel and grabbed mine, rubbing my knuckles with her thumb as she drove. I let it sit there until she had to take it back for a turn. I left my hand in the same position, but her hand did not return.
Eventually, we found ourselves at a rather isolated dirt parking lot near the entrance of a popular hiking spot, or so it had been described to me. Now as we took our seats at an old and decaying picnic table, I noted the lack of other cars. As we prepared for our journey, we ate a few snacks from her bag and discussed our path.
"We have to just walk straight," she said. "Well, not
actually
