Lacey tripped down the stairs to find her mom and brother in the kitchen. Her mom turned from the sink to give her a disapproving look.
"Sorry I'm late, mom! But you could have woken me!"
"We tried! Well, Max did. He went up to your room, but found you dead to the world as usual."
"Yeah, I know, sometimes I sleep like a log," she grinned at her brother, who twisted his lips.
"That's a mild way of putting it," he muttered.
She came to him to give him an elbow in his side, but he drew away as if stung. Shrugging, she faced her mom, who was now drying the dishes.
"So, when are we going to pick Mae up?"
"First, you need to get dressed," her mother reminded her, looking meaningfully at her young daughter's clothes.
"Oh yeah," Lacey said, glancing down at her plain white tee and shorts, both of which she'd only managed to jump into when she'd woken up minutes earlier.
Little did she know what a provocative image she portrayed with her young, firm breasts stretching the light fabric of the tee , the big fat nipples as discernible as brass buttons. Her shorts were mere cut-offs that barely covered her bum, leaving her long, endless legs to taper down to her pretty, pink-polished feet.
"Hardly appropriate for picking your prim and proper cousin from the airport, I guess," she noted wryly.
"Hardly," her mother agreed. "And don't talk about Mae like that. She's a sheltered teen, that's all. Her father is a reverend, after all."
Lacey nodded, sitting next to her brother who was looking through the morning papers so seriously, that she reached out to pinch a piece of bacon from his plate just to annoy him. No one messed with Max's food. But he ignored her.
"Get your own breakfast," her mother was the one who teased. Lacey poked a finger into the newspaper he was holding in front of his face. "Hey you! Worried about your stock prices or what?" she grinned.
He really was so preoccupied that morning. "Don't be such a pest," he said shortly, suddenly rising and leaving the kitchen, taking the paper with him.
"What's up with him?" she turned to her mother quizzically, chewing on the piece of bacon. Her mother shrugged. "We need to get to the airport in half an hour. So move it."
"Oh all right! Gosh, everyone's so moody this morning!" And with that, she bounded up the stairs again.
In his room, Max heard Lacey slam the bathroom door shut. Then came the sounds of the shower running, and his sister singing in a comical, high pitched voice she saved for bathing. It would have made him laugh like it always did; she was such an adorable brat. But not today. Today, every thing was different. It had all changed, it seemed, just an hour ago.
He'd come upstairs, on his mother's instructions, to try and get his sister out of bed. He'd burst into her room, ready to rouse her with a bucket of water if he had to. But the sight that met his eyes had stopped him in his tracks. His sister lay sprawled on her tousled sheets, utterly naked except for the strip of panties that hung low on her shapely, widespread hips. He'd drawn in air sharply, unable to move as he drank in the view of the most beautiful body, in and out of a girlie mag, that he'd ever seen in his nineteen-year old life.
The covers lay abandoned on the floor by the bed, and he figured that she'd probably kicked them off sometime during the night. He found himself shutting the door behind him before stepping closer into the room, gazing down at Lacey who still slept on, oblivious to the ogling eyes of her baffled brother.
Where the hell, he wondered, had Lacey grown such fantastic, melon-sized boobs? She lay on her back, her face turned to the other side, and so her magnificent breasts seemed thrust in the air, lifting high with each deep breath she took. The nipples were enormous, with fat brown aureoles, and he felt suddenly tempted to reach out, see if the crinkled little nubs would feel rough beneath his palms. Then he stopped short. The last thing in the world, he knew, was to even be standing there, gazing lustfully at his sister's naked body.
But that didn't stop his eyes travelling down her flat tummy to where her widespread legs, one knee bent, bared her pale femininity to his hungry gaze. Her flimsy little underwear, mere strips, barely hid from sight the pink, hairless folds of her pussy, the lips so tightly furled it took his whole willpower to keep himself from bending forward to push them apart with suddenly twitching fingers, to discover more of her deep-set secrets...
Stop it, Max! She's your sister! a tiny voice snapped him out of his daze of lust, and he shook his head slightly, at last reaching the bed and shaking her gently by the shoulder. Her big, pale-skinned breasts jiggled accordingly. "Lacey, wake up for goodness' sake," he said loudly, his voice somewhat squeaky to his own ears. Her skin felt soft and warm to his touch, and without thinking, he stroked his hand down her slender arm, gripping slightly.
"Lacey!" She replied with a tiny snore, turning away from him and on to her stomach, snatching the rest of the air out of his lungs as he was faced with the smooth, deep tunnel of her bare back, which ended in the curve of her utterly beautiful, rounded little ass. He could see now that her panties were a thong, the strip so narrow it was almost non-existent, safely embedded in the crack of her nicely toned ass-cheeks. They were so deliciously grab-able that Max actually felt his two hands twitching. Her legs, hairless and as unblemished as the rest of her body, were just as shapely, and he longed to stroke their seemingly endless length down to her little pretty feet.
He'd always known Lacey was beautiful. She was a fitness enthusiast, was into yoga and pilates and all those stuff, and he'd thought she was pretty cool for a younger sister. But he'd never, ever, considered or even imagined her as being this freaking HOT! She had the most fuckable body he had ever seen in his life, and if she wasn't his sister, hell, he'd...
Disgusted with himself at the way his mind was working, he jumped to his feet and fairly ran out of the room, shutting the door behind him and dragging in air like he'd been suffocating. He looked down at himself and discovered, to his shame, that he was sporting a huge erection poking forward in his jeans. He pressed down on it ineffectually.
"Well, did you manage to get her up?" his mother had asked when he'd finally been able to return to the kitchen. What could he tell his mother, that his sister had managed to get HIM up? It would have all been so laughable if it wasn't so distressing to him, and he could only mumble a reply before burying his head in a newspaper. It was a few minutes later that Lacey appeared.
And now, lying back on his own bed, staring up at the ceiling, he heard her turn off the shower, and her squeaky singing. He made himself imagine she had to be drying herself off now, rubbing the towel down her neck, round her proudly bouncy breasts, then down between her thighs... Oh shit, he thought, as he felt himself go painfully hard again. This was ridiculous. They'd been living in the same house together all their lives, they'd been best friends, worst enemies, and the tightest siblings on the planet - but he'd never been aware of her as a female, as a proper woman, until now.
Lacey was all grown up, sexy as hell - and his sister. He had to keep telling himself that. He heard footsteps on the corridor, and was just in time to turn on his side to shield the bulge in his jeans when his door burst open and Lacey came in, heading straight for his wardrobe. "Don't you knock?" he heard himself ask testily, not sure if he was happy that she was here in his room, with so many of the wild thoughts going round his head about her just then.
His cock seemed to be throbbing out of control just at the sight of her in the ridiculously tiny towel that barely stayed in place around her shapely body. She glanced back at him like he'd just asked the dumbest question. Which he had. No one ever knocked in their house, no one locked their doors, even while bathing. Ever since their parents had got a divorce when they were ten and eleven years old, they'd become a very tight-knit family, never hiding anything from each other. So Max felt guilty that he now had a secret he would have to keep to himself: he had the hots for his sexy sister, and no one must ever find out.
"Just want to borrow a shirt, okay?" she threw over her shoulder, rifling through his clothes. She did this all the time, but Max knew that everything was changed now. From his side, at least. "Ah yes, my favourite," she said cheekily, picking out Max's most expensive dress shirt. "This would look great with my blue jeans."
He began to protest, but the words became dislodged in his throat when just then, she flung off the towel and, with her back to him, shrugged on the shirt. That unexpected flash of her fresh, naked body was enough to get his rampaging hormones going, and he had to squeeze his thighs together to quell the ache in his loins. Turning to face him, she quickly did up the buttons. "Are you going to keep lying there? I just heard Mom yelling something about you getting the car out of the garage. We really need to be going soon."
"Well, you're the one who overslept," he accused. "I was ready ages ago."
"Yeah, sorry, I know. These days, when I fall into bed I'm out like a light and it'll take an earthquake to get me up in the morning sometimes. Must be those herbal teas I drink last thing at night," she said with a shrug as she did up the last button. The hem of the shirt reached almost to her knees, but she still looked like a sexy goddess in his over-sized shirt, her hair golden and tousled around her pretty round face. He felt the sudden urge to drag her down to the bed beside him and kiss her for ages, before tearing his shirt off her and...
"Just go," he found himself telling her in a somewhat strangled voice. "I'll be out in a second."
