I grew up in a tight-knit family in a small town named Waverly. Mom and dad were big on what some might call "traditional values". I was the youngest boy of three children. My sister, Traci, was three years older than me. Our older brother, Daryl, was seven years my senior. Growing up we were like the three amigos.
Growing up, I really looked up to Daryl. He educated me on things that I might have otherwise missed-out on, or only discovered years later. From sex to music, Daryl was my mentor and confidant. I knew that I could go to him with questions that our father could not answer, or that I did not dare ask him. I could seek Daryl's advice without fear of either ridicule, or receiving misinformation. He really helped mould me into the person I am.
My sister helped shape me too, although she never became aware of it till much later. Being the only girl, Traci was a typical tomboy when she was young. She was always eager to join in a game of baseball or touch football with us and the other kids in the neighbourhood. Once our sister reached puberty all of that changed. She began spending more time with other girls and took on interests that were different from mine and Daryl's. I was sad, thinking that Traci and I were growing apart. Ironically, the changes in both of us that transpired in the ensuing years ultimately drew us both back together once more years later.
Daryl and I shared a bedroom until he left for college. After that I only saw him a few times a year when he came home for holidays, spring break and summer vacation. Eventually Traci entered college too and her visits home became as infrequent as our brother's. It was during Thanksgiving weekend one year that Daryl made a comment that changed my life and how I regarded our sister.
I was eighteen and had just begun my first year at Waverly Community College. I was taking a degree in Journalism and was still living at home with mom and dad. Daryl had graduated and was working as a veterinarian in Ceder Falls, about a two hour's drive from home. Traci was in her second year of a Dentistry degree in Northridge, an hour away. Daryl and I were sharing our old bedroom that weekend. We had all gone to bed, although none of us were really tired. I was staring at the ceiling in the darkened room, wishing I could fall asleep, when my brother's voice cut through the silence.
"Traci really looked hot in that blouse today, didn't she?" Daryl said.
I thought for a moment until an image of our sister's blouse came to mind. It was light pink, tapered along the sides with a square hem so it hung down over the top of her paisley skirt. Actually, it was rather plain looking.
"I guess. I never really noticed her blouse much," I said.
"I don't mean her blouse, Ian," he said, laughing. "I meant how she looked in it. You could see her tits down the front of it when she bent over, and her nipples were hard when she came down from her room this morning."
"I never noticed," I repeated, trying to conjure mental images of what my brother was referring to.
"Well, check her out tomorrow. I wish she'd wear that blouse again -- only without a bra. Watch how her tits bounce when she walks."
"But, she's my sister," I said.
"She's my sister too, but she's still got the nicest tits in town," Daryl replied with a lecherous chuckle.
I guess I should have been shocked, maybe even repulsed or disgusted by Daryl's crude remarks about our sister, but for some reason I wasn't. My older brother's comment about our sister shifted the axis of my world. Never again could I regard Traci as simply my older sister. She had become a desirable young woman to me.
The next morning while I ate breakfast I was filled with an odd mixture of curiosity and arousal while I waited for Traci to join us downstairs. Daryl had already finished eating and was in the living room with dad. Mom was busy preparing the Thanksgiving turkey. When I heard Traci coming down the stairs my heart sped up. I stared at my bowl of Corn Flakes, trying to act disinterested.
Traci's cheery voice greeted me and mom as she entered the kitchen. She gave mom a kiss on the cheek, then poured herself a bowl of cereal. She sat down at the kitchen table to my left and began eating.
I had looked at my sister thousands of times in my life -- maybe a million. But now I felt guilty as hell about it because my thoughts and intentions were far less than chaste. It was only a few minutes later that I summoned the nerve to give her a sideways glance, and then only under the pretext of reaching for the sugar bowl to add more to my cereal.
Traci's honey-blond hair was in a ponytail, which emphasized her high cheekbones and hazel eyes. She was wearing a green tank top and jeans, both of which clung to the curves of her body. The front of her top plunged a little so I could see some of her upper chest, just below her collarbones. I wondered how much more I'd see if she were to bend over.
When Traci reached across the table in front of me to reach for the sugar bowl I saw her right breast quiver and shake inside her top, less than a foot from my face. I had seen breasts before, but I had never wanted to see a girl topless as much as I did at that moment. Failing that, I would have gladly settled for the opportunity to get my hands on my older sister's breasts. They were obviously much more than a good handful and strained the material of her tank top as she leaned over. Seconds later, I realized that I had a hard-on. It was the first of many caused by my big sister.
I finished my cereal, but I had lost my appetite -- for food at least. I could feel my cock pushing at the front of my jeans. I needed to calm down before I could leave the table. I sipped my juice, trying to think the most un-erotic thoughts that I could imagine.
Once Traci finished eating she began helping mom peel potatoes, cut up a squash and chop carrots. I slunk off into the living room with dad and Daryl, hoping to get my mind off of my sister. They were watching a movie that dad had rented. It was one in the Godfather series, but I did not know which and cared less. I slumped down in a chair in a corner and pretended to be interested, while thoughts and images of Traci flooded my mind.
By the time mom announced that our Thanksgiving meal was ready my appetite had returned. It was late afternoon and I had been tormented by the smell of turkey and pumpkin pie for hours. Daryl was sitting next to me at the dining room table. Mom and dad sat at opposite ends and Traci was across from me and Daryl. This had been the seating arrangement for as long as I could remember. I was preoccupied with eating and paying little attention to the conversations around me.
It was when Traci asked Daryl to pass her a roll and he tossed one towards her that I looked up, laughing. The roll hit our sister in the head and bounced onto her plate. She flashed Daryl an indignant look. Mom was not very pleased either, but dad and I were grinning.
"I can see you've still got the manners of a pig, Daryl," she said, sticking her tongue out at him.
"Yes, how rude of me. I should have offered you some butter too," he replied.
Daryl scooped a dollop of soft butter on a spoon, then flicked it across the table at Traci. It splattered over her tank top. Actually, to be more precise, it landed on her left breast. She tilted her head down and frowned, then glared up at Daryl. Using her napkin, Traci wiped the butter off as best she could, but a noticeable stain remained on her tank top. It was just above her nipple. I could tell this because I was observing from the corner of my eye while my sister wiped the butter from her top. Her breast jiggled a bit as she rubbed the napkin over the greasy stain. Through the fabric the faint outline of her nipple appeared seconds later. I felt Daryl's elbow jab my ribs. I shifted my eyes towards him and he gave me a sneaky grin.
