A fictional embellishment, spun off from the story "Accepting The Offer."
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My dad was wrapping up a phone call as I walked into the kitchen.
"Who was that?" I asked as I opened the fridge for the milk.
"Your sister. She's coming up to the house for a few days," he replied, looking over the edge of his bifocals as he gathered his newspapers from the kitchen table.
"Oh," I replied flatly, pouring myself a cup of coffee. "When's she getting in?" I leaned against the counter, the coolness of the stone top sending a jolt through my bare ass as I brought the mug to my lips.
"She should be here later in the afternoon." And with that, he adjourned outside to one of the pool chaises. Straddling the lounge, he set the paper between his legs and sat, his dark walnut skin a distinct contrast to the weathered white vinyl straps. He reclined to read, the newspaper obscuring his torso; all one could see were his legs and, between, his flaccid penis and relaxed, stretched scrotum.
"Fuck," I muttered, disgruntled.
It's not that I didn't like my sister; it's that I wasn't particularly close to her. A product of my dad's first marriage, my sister is 15 years older than I, so by the time I had any cognizance, she was already off at college followed by a move to another city to pursue her career. So Stephanie—like her brother George, who's 2 years her junior—is more like a distant cousin that I saw at major holidays than a sibling. She is nice and we get along, but there was no denying that her visit would severely curb my ability to go nude around the house.
Still, I had the opportunity to enjoy the day nude, even if it was to do chores around the house and around the property for my dad. With the house up and in from the road and surrounded by tall foliage, we could enjoy much of the property naked. Wearing little more than sandals and sunscreen, I set out pruning and watering and tackling other to-dos.
Once the daily duties were completed, I treated myself to a dip in the pool. The cool water surrounding me, caressing every inch of my skin was invigorating. But the clock on the wall suggested that my sister would be arriving, so I retired to my room for a shower.
I lay on the bed nude, letting my room's opened louvered windows and ceiling fan dry me, acutely aware of my cock and tesicles hanging between my wide spread thighs. The sun waning, I heard the faint crunch of tires on our driveway. Stephanie was here. With a perturbed exhale I rose and slipped on boardshorts and a t-shirt to greet her.
I joined my dad in the living room. I found it odd that he chose to stay naked, but I thought: his house, his daughter, his rules.
"Well, hello, Sweetie. So good. To see. You," she punctuated her honey-spun drawl as she hugged me in the doorway. Transplanted to the South, she called everybody "Sweetie."
"Daddy!" She called as she strode to our dad offering an equally sumptuous embrace.
I brought her bags from the car as the two of them caught up. I was pleasantly surprised that she picked up food; it saved me the trouble of having to either whip something up from the not-much in the pantry, or we'd all have to go out. I guess two men in a house on their own portends certain expectations.
We dined at the kitchen's small glass table as the sun sank. I cleared while my dad and sister chatted, but as both smoke like chimneys, I soon excused myself, not only to escape the smoke, but to rid myself of my clothes and address my surging horniness.
My door had no sooner struck the jamb that I was stripping down. I retrieved the collection of magazines my dad gifted me from my bureau and settled on my bed. I could feel my cock lengthen and thicken with each pound of my heart that beat thunderously in my chest. I relished the sensation of it thickening as I watched it lurch forward as it was flooded with aroused blood. Though long familiar, I drank in the photos and lingered in the stories within the pages. My eyes widen as I feasted on the beautiful, seductively nude women splayed and displayed before me. My mouth went dry; I licked my lips. My cock dispelled its first bead of precum that crept teasingly down my cock to my scrotum; I felt my balls tighten as the cool serum rolled over the folds of my sac.
I glided my finger along the underside of my shaft, expelling more precum from the tip. I caught the essence on my fingertips and used it as an unguent as I caressed. I settled in on one of my favorite photo sets. My breathing shallowed. I felt the familiar roiling deep within my groin. My orgasm and ejaculation were urging. I rose on my haunches, thrusting my cock toward the erotic beauty on the page beneath. My cock, thick and heavy and solid, hovered above the model's open, welcoming pussy and her taut nipples. My breath accelerated. I slid my left hand down my chest, sparking my nipple as it went, over my belly to ultimately cup my contracting scrotum as my right slid along my distended cock. I stopped a teased the bloated head of my cock, delaying the ecstasy that was charging toward its zenith.
"Hey Sweetie?" I heard my sister's voice outside my door. The erotic spell shattered.
"Yeah?" I called back, trying to steady the quaver in my voice.
"Can you help me for a minute?"
"Uh...yeah. Can you give me a couple of minutes?"
"Can you come now?"
"Ugh, not anymore," I muttered in frustration under my breath. "Uh, yeah. OK. Hold on," I called.
I released my cock. I took a deep breath to calm myself as I wiped the syrup of precum from my hand onto my hip. I stepped from the bed, my cock bouncing luridly from my groin, and donned the largest beach towel I could find. Able to wrap it around me twice, the fabric's bulk did help to conceal my erection, but it constricted my walking.
I shuffled to the door. "Coming!" I said, the irony playing in my head.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Sweetie, but the lights in my room burnt out, and I don't know where the bulbs are."
I froze in my tracks when I opened the door: my sister was standing before me fully nude. It was hard to see her features in the dim glow of the courtyard lights, but there was no mistaking the fullness of her breasts capped by her delicate nipples, her subtle curves, and the unruly thicket of pubic hair that dressed her mound.
"Why are you naked?" I asked, gulping.
"Daddy said that when Anne"—my mom—"isn't around, you two go naked at the house. And since that's how I grew up too, I figured I could slip back to my old familiar ways," she said, adding flare to her statement by raising her hands above her head and jutting her left hip out playfully. She paused. "I'm surprised you're in a towel."
