My twin sister is gorgeous. I admit it. Some people think it's strange for a nineteen-year-old boy to think that his sister is attractive, but it's impossible for me not to think of her in that way.
My friends all want her. Every time we get together at my house it's all they think about. They want to see her by the pool, watch her cook dinner or watch her brush out her long raven colored hair. They're obsessed. Her large, emerald green eyes could hypnotize any guy that gazes into them without her noticing. She's stunning.
That said, it was no surprise that when she burst into my bedroom in her bra and panties I stared. And wow. My imagination didn't do her justice. I had imagined what my sister would look like without clothes on plenty of times before, but it was nothing compared to the goddess-like girl now standing in front of me.
When I could manage to tear my eyes away from her softly curving hips and her lace-covered breasts, I looked at her perfect face. Only then did I realize that her eyes were burning with anger.
"Your friends are fucking assholes!" she shrieked, throwing her slipper at me. I caught the slipper and stared at her. I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, and I was still amazed that she was standing in front of me barely clothed.
"Um... oh," was all that I could think of. This just made her even angrier. It was actually really hot.
"OH!" she screamed, her voice going up an octave. "Your stupid fucking friend Alex was just looking at me getting undressed through the damn window! He's a goddamn perv!" Her eyes were now welling up with tears. I couldn't tell if they were from anger or embarrassment.
"Maxi, sorry, I'll tell them to grow up on Monday in school," I said quietly. I wasn't used to my normally quiet sister being so angry.
She sunk down onto the foot of my bed and started to openly cry. I stared at the back of her head in shock. I had never been good with crying girls. I have no idea how to comfort them, and they make me nervous. I reached out patted her shoulder awkwardly, loving the warmth of her skin. She whirled around and threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck and crying into my shoulder. We had always been close, but this much affection was new to me. I tentatively wrapped my arms around her and loosely hugged her to me. In the back of my mind, I realized that this gorgeous girl was in my bed, pressed against me, practically naked.
"Um, what's wrong Max?" I asked uncertainly. I stroked her long black hair to try to comfort her. She sobbed and shook a while before answering.
"I dunno, Mark, I'm kind of sick of them treating me like that. Every time I walk by one of your friends I get my ass slapped or they say something sexual." She was still sobbing, but was calming down enough to form coherent sentences. "I don't wanna be just some... toy to a guy. I want a guy that knows how to be romantic. I'm never going to get that." She lay her head on my shoulder, sniffling.
"Sure you will Max," I whispered. "You're gorgeous. You'll find a guy that's nice and all that."
"No, I won't." She said quietly. "Guys notice that I look good. That's all. None of them are ever going to think of me as more than a play toy."