I woke up and looked at the grey light of morning filtering through the windows. The sun wasn't quite up which meant that Mom and Dad would be asleep for a while longer. I felt Paris curled up behind me, one arm draped over my hips. I felt her naked body pressing into my exposed skin and sighed. I grabbed her arm, gently. I wanted to enjoy this. To relish in it. I felt her free arm snake under my body and pull me close to her so that both her arms were wrapped around my midsection.
"You awake yet?" She whispered.
"Shhhh," I whispered. "If I'm dreaming, I don't want to wake up yet."
She pressed her body into mine and squeezed against me. "Not a dream."
I rolled on the bed to look at her smiled. Her hair was still a mess from last night, as I'm sure mine was, but even mussed and looking every bit as haggard from a not-quite-full night's sleep, she looked more amazing than ever.
"Hey Baby Phee," She said.
"Hey there, Big Sis."
She pushed some hair out of my face. "Have a good night?"
I couldn't put together the words to describe how amazing it was. "The best ever."
"Any regrets?"
"Only that we didn't do this sooner."
She smiled and kissed me. It wasn't the soul crushing kiss from last night, but it still made me hyper-aware of our naked bodies pressed so closely together. Well, almost naked bodies. I was still wearing the red bralette from the previous night, and I felt our combined cum dried and covering my belly and chest.
"Can I ask you something?" Paris said.
"Anything."
"When was the first time you fantasized about me?"
"Ages ago. You had gone out on a date with Tommy Borren and left a bunch of your clothes laying around. I went into your room to look for something and just saw them there. That was the first time I tried on your clothes too. I imagined you finding me like that, trying on your clothes and teaching me to be your little sister, before deciding that little sisters needed to learn to kiss."
"That's a while back," Paris said. "That's before," she waved her hand in a vague gesture, "this."
I nodded. "Yeah." I grabbed her hand and held it between us. "And you? When did you first fantasize about me?"
"In college. My roommates were talking about fetishes and weird turn ons after drinking too much. One of them said she always got so wet for her brother. She knew nothing would ever come of it, but it didn't stop her from fantasizing. And of course, I started to fantasize then."
She looked down at the bra and ran one finger along the edge. I shivered at the touch.
"And the clothes?"
I shrugged. "As long as I can remember. Anyone else in the family?" I asked with a half grin.
"Everyone else. You?"
I nodded. "Everyone else."
We giggled and snuggled together a moment longer. "How much do we tell Mom and Dad?" I asked after a moment.
Paris shrugged. "We don't have to tell them anything. For now this is ours. Just us. And we should get cleaned up before they wake up. I need a shower and so do you."
I pointed to my wash basin by the window. "I'm all set. Mom is used to me cleaning up in here."
Paris got out of bed. I stared at her naked body while she put on her bra and thong from the previous night. She looked magnificent, still half covered in my dried cum and her hair an absolute mess.
"You're beautiful," I said. "Paris, do you think we could sleep together again tonight? Not fool around, not if you aren't up for it, but just, sleep together?"
"Yeah, but in my room. Your bed is too small."
That day I wore a dark brown thong and matching bra. My nipples seemed even larger and puffier than the previous day and I was worried that they would be oddly visible if I didn't put on something to hide them. I put on a pair of jean shorts from the collection as well since none of mine seemed to fit anymore, and a simple dark t-shirt that would be sure to cover the bra. I didn't realize that I had never taken the butterfly necklace off and it nestled itself over my shirt and bra right where my cleavage should have been.
Paris wolf whistled at me when I entered the kitchen for breakfast. It was an expression I was hard pressed not to emulate. She was dressed almost identically to me, except that she wore a tanktop that exposed her lack of bra quite clearly.
"Stop that," Mom said. She looked at me and nodded approvingly. "At least the clothes fit you. I'm sorry there isn't anything more your style, but you look good Baby Phee." She turned to Dad. "Don't you think so Dear?"
Dad I realized, had been staring at me the moment I entered the room. "Yeah. It looks good on you kiddo."
The morning passed normally. Paris and I were trying not to flirt with each other. I could tell when she was thinking of last night, or some other fantasy because she got a glassy look in her eyes and whatever she was working on took a little longer than normal. For my part, I spent a lot of time hoping that my hard on didn't pop out of the shorts I was wearing. They were women's shorts, shorter than what I normally wore and made to hug my ass and hips. My bulge would pop out the top if I let it get to hard pointing upwards, and it would absolutely pop out the bottom of the leg if I let it get too hard going that way.
After lunch, Paris came over to me and leaned down next to me while I was weeding. "Nice thong, Baby Phee," she whispered into my ear. "Showing it off on purpose?"
My eyes went wide. I looked around in a panic.
"Easy." She put one hand on my shoulder and kissed my cheek. "They aren't close." She sat down on the ground beside me, though careful not to sit on anything important. "Good thing too." She gestured to my shirt.
I looked down and realized in the brighter sun of the afternoon what I hadn't noticed in the dimness of the house: it was one of my old t-shirts and it was as see through as any of Mom's. My bra was plainly visible. I didn't panic, by some miracle. "Want a better look?" I teased. I lifted the hem of shirt to show off and shimmied my chest playfully.
Paris stared.
"Surprised?"
Paris nodded. Slowly, she reached out her hands and caressed the side of my breast. The backs of her fingers ran along the outside of the simple cotton material but the sensation, even through the bra, against my soft flesh made me shudder. Her fingers continued along the curve of my breast until her fingers bumped over my nipples and I moaned. Her eyes were transfixed on my chest. She couldn't have pulled her eyes away if our parents had started shouting from right behind her. Curious, I looked down to see what she did and my heart nearly stopped. There, where my flat chest and puffy nipples had been just that morning, I had two, small curves with obvious nipples. I had breasts. I had breasts?
"What?"
Paris stood up, took me by the hand and dragged me towards the barn.
"Come on," she said.
The barn was where Grandad used to keep horses until he had decided he didn't like them. Most of the other animals were in other pens or buildings and this old one had remained where it was ever since fallout -- empty and useless. There was no one inside of course. There was never anyone inside. To be sure we checked the empty stalls before going up the rickety ladder to the loft. Which was insane. You can't see the ladder. I'm telling you, no sane person would use it. But it gave us the privacy we wanted.
Paris hauled me up onto the loft and kissed me. Her kiss held passion, need, lust. I had questions but her kiss drove them all from my mind. What did I care about breasts when my sister was kissing me so perfectly? What did I care about anything when Her body pressed against mine like that? When her breasts pressed into mine?
At some point we both got our shirts and shorts off so that we lay on the loft nearly naked. She only wore panties and I in my thong and bra. I was putting my mouth on her breast, licking her nipples when we heard Mom down below.
"Marcus!" She whispered. Loud enough for us to hear. Loud enough for us to freeze. "Marcus, what has gotten into you?" There was a startled and muffled sound of surprise followed by a soft moan.
Then Dad. "I need you," he said. "I need you now."
We heard the sound of two bodies moving around the lower part of the barn.
"What if the kids see us? Or come looking for us?" Mom asked. Her questions didn't seem very sincere.
"Let them," Dad said. "Admit it. You want them to catch us. You'd love it."
Mom Gasped, then moaned.
Paris put a finger to her lips and lay flat in the loft. She motioned for me to do the same, and we moved to the edge where random junk would hide us well enough that we wouldn't be seen from below, but give us enough of a view to watch. I saw Dad, pressing mom against one of the stall doors. She had both arms wrapped around his neck. Dad had one hand between mom's legs, although outside her clothing.
