"Here comes Brad now," said Brad's mother as he walked in the door.
"Oh great," thought Brad, "she wants me to meet one of her bridge partners!" He darted toward the stairs, but halted when his mother called after him.
"Brad dear, come into the kitchen!"
Brad skulked into the kitchen, and then froze in his tracks. A beautiful young woman sat across from his mother, smiling brightly at him. It was his sister.
"Hi Brad!" she said, leaping from the chair and throwing her arms around him.
"Sasha! I thought you weren't coming back till next month!"
"I decided to hand in my term papers early," she replied.
They stepped back to take a good look at each other.
Sasha was every bit as beautiful as she had been four years earlier when she left for college, but that was back when Brad indifferent to a girl's charms. He had seen her so infrequently since then that, even after his hormones began to kick in, he had still failed to notice her tremendous good looks.
Likewise, Sasha had witnessed her younger brother's transformation from a skinny eighth-grader to a man in brief snapshots. Now she was looking at the final product: a muscular, 6'3" athlete whose strength had startled her when they embraced.
"So, are you gonna be living at--I mean, are you staying here for the summer?" Brad asked nervously.
Sasha just stared at him, dumbfounded.
"What?" she said, meeting his gaze.
Their mother stepped between them and put her hands on their shoulders.
"I guess your little brother has grown up a bit since you left," she said.
Brad and Sasha looked at their mother as if they had forgotten she was in the room.
"Just look at the two of you!" she beamed. "How did I ever get such gorgeous children?"
As their mother reminisced about when they were young, Brad and Sasha could not take their eyes off each other.
***
That night, Brad decided to visit Sasha in her room before turning in.
"Hey, you busy?" he said, poking his head in her room.
"Not at all, I was just reading," she said, putting her book down.
Brad sat at the foot of her bed.
Sasha went to her dresser and began brushing her hair.
"So, when's your last day of school?"
"Next Thursday," Brad answered. "Graduation is on Saturday."
As they chatted, Brad's eyes were riveted to his sister. Her face positively glowed with health, and the whole room seemed to brighten when she smiled. The soft lamp light sparkled in her eyes and shone in her long flaxen hair as she drew the brush through it.
"Are you working this summer?" Sasha asked.
"Umm, yeah, at the marina," Brad replied distractedly, "but I don't start for a couple weeks."
Sasha put her brush down, then reached for her lotion and began applying it to her face.
"I think you grew like a foot when I was away," she said, eying him up and down.
Brad laughed nervously and looked down at his feet.
"I don't think so."
"Okay, maybe not a foot. But you are much taller, and just...bigger."
At 6'3", Brad was a good 4 inches taller than his sister. Also, his body had filled out in ways that his wardrobe had not quite kept up with. His tee shirt strained against his chest and its sleeves bunched up at the base of his biceps. Sitting on the edge of the bed, his boxers clung tightly to his muscular thighs.
"Look at you!" Sasha said, sitting next to him and grabbing his arm. "You're a stud!"
Brad just chuckled nervously.
"Here, come stand in front of the mirror with me," she said, stepping in front of the full-sized mirror near her closet.
Brad stood beside her and they gazed at their reflections.
"Okay, stand back-to-back," she said.
Brad put his back to hers. The top of her head barely reached his shoulders.
"I miss being taller than you," she said.
She turned to face him, and he did the same.
"Well, I have a nicer ass than you," she boasted, arching her back for emphasis.
Brad's gaze was already fixed on her perfect ass and her comment startled him.
Feeling flustered, he went to sit on the bed.
"Actually, you have a pretty cute butt too," Sasha said as he walked away from him.
"Do you mind if I get ready for bed?" she added before he had time to react to her comment.
"Oh, sure," Brad said getting up to leave.
"You don't have to leave--just turn around for a sec."
Brad turned around and she continued chatting casually with him. He heard her unzip her pants and slide them off, then rummage around in her dresser. He couldn't help wondering what she looked like wearing only panties and a bra. A warmth crept into his groin.
"Okay," she said, "you can turn around now."
When he turned to see her wearing boxers and an over-sized tee shirt, his vision passed. He reproached himself for having such thoughts in the first place.
***
"Do you think we can handle a month on our own?" Sasha asked Brad as they drove home from the airport. They had just dropped their parents off for a 4-week trip to Europe.
"As long as I can talk to Mom at least once a day," Brad said in a childish voice. They started laughing. As much as they loved their parents, they were glad to have the house to themselves for a while. They were in a giddy mood as they drove home.
"Damn it's hot," Brad exclaimed.
"Yeah, it's fucking hot," Sasha said. Brad liked hearing his sister swear.
"It is so fucking shit hot!" Brad added.
"'Fucking shit hot'? That makes no sense."
"It's crappingly fuck-ass hot," Brad said.
Sasha started giggling.
"It's ass fart bastard hot!" she said.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Brad said.
Sasha convulsed in laughter.
"Ooh! Let's get some beer!" Brad said as they approached a grocery store.
He pulled the car into the parking lot.
"I'll be right back."
Brad watched Sasha ham it up as she strutted across the parking lot with her chin up high, shaking her ass.
"Ho boy," he groaned, pressing his hand to his aching crotch.
***
They were both hot and sweaty from the long drive when they returned home. While Sasha put the beer in the fridge, Brad announced that he was going to take a shower.
"Hurry up," Sasha said, "I need one too."
Once in the shower, Brad's thoughts drifted back to his sister's sexy display in the grocery store parking lot. He stared down at his penis as it filled with blood.
"You almost done?" he heard his sister say, poking her head in the door.
"Yeah, I--I just have to rinse off," Brad croaked, buying time to let his erection go down.
"Could you hand me a towel?" he said when things were under control.
Sasha placed a towel in his outstretched hand. He used it to dry off, then cinched it around his waist and stepped out of the shower. Sasha was brushing her hair at the sink with a towel wrapped around her chest. On the counter in front of her were two bottles of beer.
"I brought you a present," she said.
"Gee, thanks sis!" he said, grabbing one of the bottles and taking a swig.
Sasha moved away from the sink to give him room as he went about his grooming routine. He was hurrying so as not to keep her waiting. His back was to her, but he could see her blurry reflection in the fogged-up mirror. He could make out the contrast of her white towel with her peach-colored skin, and the movements of her arm as she brushed her hair.
Suddenly, the movement came to a stop and he heard her set the brush down. And then, in a flash, the white patch disappeared. Taking longer than necessary to comb his hair, he stared at the indistinct reflection of Sasha's naked body in the mirror. Details were invisible, but in the subtle gradations of color he could discern a dark patch of pubic hair, the pink dots of her nipples on her pale breasts, and her mane of golden hair.
She stepped into the shower and he exhaled at last.
"Could you hand me my beer?" she said.
***
Later, Sasha joined Brad on the deck where he was grilling burgers. She was wearing a yellow sundress with thin shoulder straps that exposed her toned shoulders. Brad could see the silhouette of her slender legs when the sun shone through the thin fabric.
They ate the burgers, and then sat out until it got dark, talking and drinking beer.
When it started to get buggy, Sasha suggested they go inside.
After taking care of the dishes, they decided to watch a movie.
"Let's watch it in my room," suggested Sasha, "it's too stuffy down here."
Brad went to his room and got ready for bed. He brushed his teeth, and then stripped down to his underwear--a new pair of loose-fitting boxer briefs. It was too hot for a shirt so he remained bare-chested.
Sasha was sitting at her dresser folding laundry when he arrived.
"Which one you want to watch?" he asked, holding up an assortment of DVD's.
"I don't care, whatever you--" she said began, but her voice trailed off when she laid eyes on Brad. He looked as if he'd stepped straight out of an Abercrombie & Fitch catalogue. His low-slung boxer briefs barely kept a hold on his narrow waist, dipping so far below his tan line that Sasha could almost make out a sliver of pubic hair.
"Whichever," she finished distractedly.
Oblivious to her reaction, Brad sat down on her bed browsed through the movies.
As Sasha folded her laundry, she stole glances at her brother. He had an unruly mop of sandy-blond hair that he was constantly brushing out of his face, and a few freckles on his cheeks and nose. But these were the only vestiges of the little boy she remembered.
She marveled at his flawless physique. Aside from his thick head of hair, he had very little body hair, which made the muscles in his torso even more defined. The DVD's looked like a deck of cards in his strong hands, and when he bent his arm to scratch his head, his bicep constricted into a substantial bulge.
"Want to watch 'Slapstick'?" Brad asked, holding up a box with a picture of a man pouring a bucket of water over his head.
"Sure," she said.
