It was the worst thing I've ever done. Or the best. You decide.
It was my big sister's 21st birthday party. Our parents made a big thing of it. Hired a nice venue. Got a caterer and a band. Invited all her friends. And it was a great night. I even played my part -- for once Sally didn't get teased by her little brother Mike, which is me.
I was nice. I was polite. I never once called her a fat pig. She's not really that fat, just a little overweight, but that's what little brothers call their overweight sisters, right? I didn't call her an ugly bitch. Of course, she's not ugly either. She's no Miss Universe, but she's not ugly.
So a good night was had by all. Our parent were very pleased. So pleased that they gave me the biggest responsibility of the night -- they asked me to drive Sally home. Well, I was the only one sober, so it had to be me. While our parents took a cab, I had the job of driving the family car home, while dropping Sally off at her apartment, which she shared with a friend, along the way.
She had really enjoyed the party. I mean really, really enjoyed it. She was so drunk I could barely get her into the car. I remembered at the last minute that I'd forgotten to ask Melanie, the friend Sally shared her apartment with, if she wanted a lift. But Sally said not to bother -- and then she started getting angry.
I know it was because she was drunk, but she started saying some pretty nasty things about Melanie. For a start, Mel was a slut. She wouldn't need a lift, because she already had a ride -- a big cock to ride. That shocked me. Sal never talked that way. But she kept going. Yes, Mel had gone home with one of the guys at the party, and she'd be fucking him right now. She was always fucking guys. All the time. Making so much noise. There was always screaming and squealing and laughing coming from her room.
We were most of the way to Sal's place by now, and I didn't know what to say. It was her 21st birthday, the party had been great, and now she was all upset. And then, suddenly, she started crying.
"What's wrong Sal? It's been a great night. You're 21, how cool is that?"
But she didn't think it was cool.
"Cool? Do you know what. I'm 21 all right. I'm a 21 year old virgin."
And then she really started crying. Tears were pouring down her face. Wow. Sal was still a virgin? Double wow. Like, I was two years younger than her, but I had seven notches on my belt -- that's seven girls, and multiple times with each of them. Okay, that sounds like boasting, which it's not, because I think my score is only average. I know heaps of guys -- and girls -- who get a lot more sex than me.
Well, anyway, there wasn't much I could say to that. So I should have shut up. Of course, I didn't.
"Well, maybe you're just waiting for the right guy."
She exploded in tears.
"How long will I have to wait. Until I'm 99?!?!"
Okay, say no more. Just shut up. By now we'd reached Sal's place. Again I had to help her out of the car. She could barely stand. I took her inside and she fell onto the sofa, still weeping. I stood at the door for half a minute, not knowing how to console her, so I didn't try.
"Um...okay then, I'll seeya."
She looked at me angrily.
"I'll bet you're not a virgin -- not pretty, pretty Mikey!"
Could I leave her like this? The apartment was cold. If she passed out on the sofa, she might get sick -- which I'm sure I'd be blamed for. She should be in bed. I leaned down and lifted her up.
"Come on Sal, off to bed. You'll feel better in the morning."
She was still sobbing.
"I'm sorry Mikey, I shouldn't have said that."
"It's okay."
"Can you help take my dress off? I don't want to ruin it."
So I did. It was a long red dress and looked good on her -- very slimming, I thought. I lifted it over her shoulders and saw she was only wearing a g-string and one of those low, undercup bras, so nothing showed under or outside the dress. Right away, I noticed something.
"Sally, you've lost weight - a lot of weight."
"Thank you little brother, yes I have."