Author’s note: This story takes the slow approach to sibling romance. Anyone looking for a quick stroke will be disappointed. As always, comments and feedback are appreciated.
Also – Wanted: Prolific author seeks literate editor(s). If you would like to assist in proofreading/editing stories before submission, please send me an e-mail informing me of your e-mail address and any preferences. Full credit will be given and I pride myself on being easy to work with. Now … on to the story!
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“Come on, little brother,” my gorgeous sister told me. She was lying on her stomach on my bed, looking all soft and sensuous. That’s how I knew how badly she wanted me to do it.
“Why should I?” I asked her playfully, sitting across from her in a chair. I knew my sister Devon. She was such a tease. As soon as I gave her what she wanted, she’d be singing her own tune and not mine.
“You’ll do it because you’re the best brother in the whole world,” she smiled seductively and leaned forward, giving me a good look down her deep cleavage. Devon used her hand and threaded her silky brunette hair behind that small, lovely ear of hers, then tossed it over her shoulder. It was a sexy move she usually did unconsciously. This time though, she did it because she knew it made her tits bounce.
“If I’m so great, why won’t you give me what I really want?” I asked earnestly.
Devon pursed out her full, sexy lips in a girlish pout. She looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling. Then, as though she didn’t even realize what she was doing, her right hand dropped and her fingertips lightly caressed the swell of her bosom. When I sighed loudly, she giggled, acknowledging what she had been consciously doing to me.
“You know why we can’t do what you want,” she whispered softly. Lately though, when our conversations came around to this subject - as they always did - Devon sounded more contemplative, more philosophical. I took that as a good sign. I was wearing her down, getting her to think about it.
“Tell me again, sis. Why is it we shouldn’t do what we both obviously want to do?” I asked her soberly.
Devon sat up then, suddenly more demure. Whenever our conversations turned serious, she couldn’t tease me. It just didn’t seem right.
“We can’t because it’s incest. You know that,” she said soothingly. “And, don’t project onto me. You obviously want it. I never said I did.”
At twenty, Devon was going to City College majoring in psychology. She tried to psychoanalyze everything now.
“I don’t care what you call it, Devon. I know it’s right for you and me. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
“I know, Denni,” my big sister said sighing, frustrated herself.
That’s always the way these discussions ended up lately. With both of us frustrated.
Devon gave me a devilish smile, as if trying to head the frustration off at the pass.
“If you’re gonna try to talk your way into my pants all day, we might as well be hiking on the trail when you do it, little bud,” she grinned. “Come on! It’s spring! I gotta go hiking today! You know Mom would freak if I went by myself.”
A girl had been assaulted on the hiking trails last fall. The guy was caught and put in jail, but still, Mom was spooked and rightfully so. Devon was a beautiful girl, 5’7” and very curvy. Even though she was athletic, she still had a very feminine figure. I didn’t want her out alone either, even though I’m much more of a bookworm than a jock.
“I’ll give you one free wish while we’re out,” she said, bribing me to do her a favor.
It was a regular thing with us. How we got each other to do what we wanted. One free wish. Well, mine were free. Devon could ask or do anything she wanted. But there were always caveats to Devon’s ‘free wishes.’ She wouldn’t do anything overtly sexual or allow me to, but she would answer questions. Even sexual questions, if I framed them academically enough. I had found out she wasn’t a virgin that way. Indirectly, I also learned that she wasn’t pleased with the experience or any subsequent one.
“OK, but let me put it in the bank,” I haggled. Wishes put in the bank were the most valuable. Then I could double them up and use them in tandem.
“No way, bud. I learned my lesson about that,” she giggled. By saving up my wishes earlier this year I’d gotten Devon to first describe in academic terms her most frequent means of masturbation. Then combining a moment of her own personal weakness and my second wish, Devon admitted that she sometimes thought about me while she did it.
“All right, sis,” I conceded. I had wanted to go with her anyway. I was just waiting to get my wish. “But you know I’ll have to think of something particularly devious now.”
Devon rolled her eyes, but gave me a winning smile. She got what she wanted. We were getting out of the house on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. I got what I wanted. I’d be with Devon.
“Change clothes,” she ordered brusquely and then bounded for the door. “See you downstairs in ten minutes.”
“You don’t have to go, sis,” I told her retreating back in a familiar refrain. “Stick around and enjoy the show.”
“No thanks, bud,” she teased me from the door. “Already seen enough little pricks in my day!”
Then she laughed and bolted out the door.
As I changed into my hiking duds, I considered again whether or not to just flash her one day and stop the ‘tiny penis’ jokes. My seven inches wasn’t huge, but it was nothing to sneeze at either.
Downstairs, Devon and Mom were discussing our hike. She was telling our mother exactly where we would be and how long we would be gone. Mother was always the worrywart about her children’s safety.
“Drink plenty of fluids, Devon,” Mom was telling her. “You just came off the flu last week. You can’t afford to be dehydrated.”
Lots of fluids and out on the trail all afternoon. That had the makings of an interesting wish.
“I can’t carry any more, Mama!” Devon told her. Sure enough, mother had packed Devon’s light rucksack full of bottled water.
“I’ll carry more in mine,” I volunteered. “I can’t afford to get sick before the end of senior year.”
Devon gave me the eye, trying to figure out my angle. We both had an unspoken agreement. Neither of us would knowingly rat out the other to our parents or use parental pressure to get what we wanted. But that wasn’t what I was up to. I was still within our unspoken rules, so she let me slide.
“In fact, I think I need to have a drink before we go, sis,” I suggested for myself. “Looks a little warm out there today. I don’t want to sweat out.”
“See,” our mother said to Devon. “Your brother’s talking sense. You have a drink too, girl.”
As we drank a glass of water, Mom gave out all her typical last minute instructions. Neither one of us was really listening, though. I was still trying to figure out how to make my idea work. It had to be simply stated, but devious, too.
“I want you both to drink plenty of fluids, dears,” Mom was saying as she wound down. “And don’t go out of your brother’s sight, Devon. I mean it! I’m still not convinced it’s safe up there.”
I nudged Devon as though to tell her it was time to go.
“I’ll make sure she stays close by, Mom,” I said wryly. I love my mom. Sometimes she makes life so much fun!
When Devon started driving up into the hills, she turned briefly toward me and asked me what was up.
“Just my wish, sis. I know what I want it to be now,” I told her.
“OK, spill it,” she said, grinning in anticipation.
“Just that I want you to do what Mom said. Literally,” I said, trying to sound casual.
Devon considered, probably trying to remember exactly what Mom said. She should have known better. By now she knew what a schemer I could be. Or maybe she just didn’t see it.
Finally Devon shrugged and said, “OK. I don’t get it, but OK.”
When we got to the parking area by the trails, before we started walking, I reached into my own rucksack and drew out a bottle of water and handed it to my sister.
“Naw,” she said dismissively. “I’m not thirsty yet.”
“Part of the wish, sis,” I informed her. “Mom said to drink plenty of fluids.”
Devon looked at me questioningly then broke out in a grin. She glanced up in the hills and I knew just what she was thinking. No bathrooms up there.
“No problem, bud,” she chuckled mischievously. “But I think she said for us both to drink plenty.”
It seems Devon was listening closer than I had counted on. Still, that wouldn’t affect my plans too much.
“So she did, sis,” I said agreeably. “Guess I’ll have to match you swig for swig.”
That ended up being just what I needed to make it work. Devon’s competitive nature flared up in her eyes. She took the proffered water and chugged down half the bottle.
“Drink up, little brother,” she said, smiling impishly.
I figured that I ought to have the bigger bladder because I was a guy. Taking the bottle from her, I gave my pretty sister a wink and chugged it down. Then, leaving the bottle behind on the bumper, Devon and I set out.
It was a fantastic day and it was still early. There weren’t many people out, even for a Saturday. Best of all, my sister walked in front, setting the pace. Maybe she was still in tease mode, but for whatever reason, her hips were doing a very sexy sway as we walked up the hill.
“Nice view! Don’tcha think, little brother?” she asked over her shoulder.
“It’s just great from back here,” I replied and heard my sister giggle to confirm my thoughts.
“Do you like to tease guys at school too, Devon?” I taunted her happily.
“Just the nice ones,” she said laughing. “The ones I know are strong enough to take it.”
“Nice guys!” I retorted a bit sarcastically. “That’s another label for, ‘Just abuse me,’ isn’t it?”
“Not really,” she said thoughtfully. “Actually most women like to end up with the nice guy.”
“But they don’t want to date them or fool around with them,” I said, expressing a bit too much frustration. Too often I’d been dismissed as the nice guy.
“What’s the matter, little brother,” Devon asked, even turning around and walking backward to gently mock me more. “You not getting any these days?”
“I guess none still qualifies as ‘not any’. So, the answer is, yes.”
“Well, you’re still a growin’ boy,” Devon laughed as she turned back around. It was another of her favorite lines. No matter how old I got, I think Devon would always call me a ‘growin’ boy.’ I thought once I turned eighteen that she’d stop it. But, no way!
