I just don't write stories for this category, it's not my thing. But, in my life, there was one very short period where some things happened.
I had a half sister. I don't think I have ever mentioned her before in any of my stories.
Some things happened, I have to say here I am not proud of it, but I was very young.
Her name was Florence, I say was because she is no longer with us. A product of my Father's first marriage, Florence was way older than me, by close 15 years. By the time I was a young boy, she was married, had two kids, both of whom I hated with a passion.
During the extremely rare visits by Florence and her brats, her two kids loved to pick on me. I was younger, smaller, way it is sometimes.
But her marriage to this jerk, (I call him that because he was a drunk, a womanizer, he sometimes came home for a week or two, then would vanish again for days at a time,) finally went south.
He never beat Florence that I ever knew of, my Dad owned a .30-.30 Winchester and knew how to use it, we lived on a remote ranch and that was a required tool since the woods around had things with teeth living out there.
Her husband knew all about that, my Dad would never stand for any bullshit.
My life growing up was way different than most, you see. I was one of those animals that lived on the 1800 acres of remoteness we called home. I was close to as wild as the animals were.
Anyway, when Florence showed up, my Dad always took her in, even though he also threatened over and over that this was the last time. Dad also never interfered when the two brats messed with me, to him, that crap was part of growing up and I needed to learn to take care of myself.
One day, fed up, I grabbed a shovel handle, and let's just say things got settled and they never messed with me any more after that. I was just 15 when that happened, skinny, scrawny, and stronger than anyone would believe from years of working every day around our ranch.
My sister Florence was pissed off, her two brats were all beaten to shit and I was unmarked. She took them, loaded them in her car and left, yelling that there was no way she was going to stand for me bullying her two boys.
Dad just watched her go, barely managing to keep a perfectly straight face. Not a single word was ever said about that.
+++
It was five days after my 18th birthday, an old Studebaker truck came down the road, hissing and smoking.. It was Florence, back again, no brats this time. Her husband had finally found some hooker or something he liked better, and he took off, for good this time.
My Dad, like always, sighed and took Florence in.
+++
Our house was an old style farm house, t had a full basement cut deep into the hillside, a huge wood furnace that once loaded would burn for a full day. Two large bedrooms on the main floor, two more upstairs with a big area that served as a dormitory to house crews that came in and often stayed for a week or two. Six single beds in a row, often we had several workers living with us up there.
Dad put Florence in the one corner bedroom, mine was on the other end at the other corner. This meant I had to deal with her being up there when I was up there, but that wasn't too bad as long as she stayed in her room.
Florence was tall, around 5'10", she took after Dad a bit as he was 6'4". I was barely six feet tall by age 18, and the skinny and scrawny look was gone by then. I could pitch a 100 pound hay bale 5 rows up on the old 1950 flatbed truck we owned, and do that with ease.
The first thing Florence did that I noticed was look me up and down, then she walked over and felt my biceps.
"Hmmm." Is all she said, then she turned and walked away.
I ignored that, she acted a bit nutty most of the time anyway, so I didn't even think of it.
Then we were both in our respective bedrooms, I was sitting there reading a science fiction book, I loved those old pulp magazines that were popular back then.
My door opened up, there stood Florence in just her bra and panties, wanting to know if she could borrow a book to read.
Being just 18 at the time, that embarrassed the hell out of me, since I was sitting on the edge of the bed in just my boxers. I grabbed the blankets and covered myself, she just looked and snickered.
"Here!" I handed her one of my books, she thanked me and left.
Still, sister be damned, up until that moment the only thing even close to a nearly nude female I had ever seen was in National Geographic, I had a couple of issues hidden under my mattress that actually showed nipples on native women.
I had just seen my sister in her bra and panties, the front of the thin white panties were puffed out where her pubic hair was, and her nipples made obvious bumps in the bra.
I got a hard on thinking about that, of course I did at that age.
+++
A day or so later, I came out just as Florence was coming up the stairs, she had been downstairs taking a bath in the old claw foot tub we had in here. All she had was a big towel wrapped around herself. She saw me and giggled, walked by into her room, leaving the door open.
