Star Student 1

It was the hushed tones they spoke in that grabbed my attention. My teenage sister and her friends giggling and gossiping loudly is perfectly normal - annoying, in fact. I could have tuned that out. Whispering was suspicious.

I stopped typing and leaned away from my desk to listen more closely. No good. Their volume was intentional. They spoke so that they could hear each other, but they were clearly aware that other ears were nearby.

Our parents were still at work, so the only other ears in the house were mine. They were trying to keep me from hearing what they were talking about. Whatever it was excited them. I could tell by how fast they'd talk and how intermittent bursts of laughter would break the sounds of muffled conversation, followed immediately with frantic shushing.

"Okay, enough of this," I thought. I quietly stood and made my way toward her room. I could start making out words as I got closer.

"Never, Lydia? Ever?" one of the teens giggled.

Another added, "You're 18 now - a legal adult. What are you waiting for?"

Still another piped in, "Your brother is home from college for another month, practice with him!"

Whatever that meant made the girls erupt with laughter and made Lydia recoil. "EWWWW NO NO NO! Stacey you're so grossss!" Lydia exclaimed in disgust.

"What's so gross, Lyds?" I blurted as I jumped into Lydia's doorway. The girls turned white as a sheet.

"What the fuck, Ken!? Were you listening?" Lydia exclaimed through a mortified grimace.

"Sort of," I replied. Then I stayed silent and looked each of them in the eyes, trying to read them. Whatever I had stumbled into was enough to make these girls really uneasy.

"Um, how long did... uh what did you hear?" Lydia stammered.

Whatever it was, I didn't really care. I mean, don't get me wrong - I was enjoying torturing them. But there wasn't anything that a group of 18-year-old girls could be discussing that I'd possibly give two shits about. I decided to come clean.

"Relax, I didn't hear anything." I replied. They all exhaled and let out nervous laughs in relief. After the color returned to my sister's face, I continued. "I just heard something about you needing my help practicing with something."

All of their eyes got as big as saucers and they abruptly quit laughing.

I broke the awkward silence with, "Listen, I know I give you a lot of shit, but if you need help with something, just say so. What is it? Something with your cheerleading? SAT prep? I'll help you practice whatever you need."

Something I said made them ERUPT with laughter.

"I really don't fucking understand teen girls." I sighed internally.

"Awww he's so sweet!" her friend forced out through her chortling.

Lydia laughed until she gasped, buried her face in a pillow and let out an exasperated "UUUUUUUGH!!" "KEN, GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE OH MY GAWWWDDD!"

I was a little hurt. Even if they're teens, it sort of stings when you're trying to be sincere and helpful and you get laughed at. I was more confused than anything. My deer-in-the-headlights expression only made them laugh harder. Whatever, I was done with this.

"I WAS JUST TRYING TO BE NICE. DAMN!" I yelled over my shoulder as I turned and walked away.

That made them roar even more. I heard Lydia slam her door behind me. I went back to my room to fume.

That episode was the last time I was nice to my sister while I was home. I had come home for the winter, taking virtual classes so that I could help my dad with some home renovations he'd backlogged for years. Whenever I saw Lydia, I was never mean, but I made no efforts to be cordial after being laughed out of her room.

It was hard, because I genuinely do love my sister. We'd always had a great relationship, and she looked up to me. It was an effort to stay cold and heartless toward her, but my anger from that day was just enough to fuel it. That came to a grinding halt one day when I discovered her weeping on the sofa.

She was slumped over, her face resting in her hands as she tried to conceal her face. Her cries were stifled - whatever she was mourning was intense, but she was taking great care to not be discovered. She must have known I was home, but not aware that I was standing in the doorway behind her.

Part of me was trying to keep up my bitter facade. I steeled myself and searched my thoughts for something sarcastic and flippant to say, but it melted away with every sob I could hear. I sighed, sat next to her, rested my hand on her shoulder, and told her, "I'm here for you, Lydia" without even speaking.

My presence broke her dam, and a flood of wailing burst forth from her like she had been holding it in for weeks. She gazed into my eyes, glassy and flowing with tears, and told me, "I'm sorry, Ken," without saying a word, then clutched me tightly. I returned her embrace to let her know that all was forgiven.

It wasn't until she could compose herself that I learned the sorrow wasn't because of our strained relationship. She was having relationship problems with her boyfriend. Well, former boyfriend, as it were.

"Dylan dumped me today," Lydia sniffled.

I had no idea who the fuck Dylan was, but for her sake, I had to pretend to care.

"I'm sorry, Lyds." I replied in a comforting tone. "I'm not sure what his deal is, but it's his loss, trust me."

Lydia looked up at me, and gave me a smirk and a glance that said, "I appreciate that, even if you have to say stuff like that as my brother."

"So what happened?" I inquired. "Did he suddenly decide that he likes boys instead?"

Lydia laughed and leaned against me. "No. It's me. It's embarrassing."

I gave her my obligatory "you can tell me anything" spiel, expecting her to give me her standard "no, that's ok, thanks" reply, but she didn't. She looked into my eyes, hesitating. She was weighing whether or not she should tell me. She waited a couple of seconds, and began to blush. A sheepish, wry smile carved itself across her face. Oh god. She was going to tell me.

"Be supportive don't freak out be supportive don't freak out be supportive don't freak out," I told myself as I prepared to hear way more information about my teen sister than I wanted to know.

"You remember the day me and my friends were all whispering and laughing and you busted us?" she asked.

"Uh yeah, it's why I've been an asshole to you ever since," I responded. "Why?"

Lydia stared forward and exhaled "Wellllll I didn't want to talk to you about it because it had to do with sex. Hence my response."

Ah. NOW I understood. No wonder it was hilarious and mortifying all at once. No wonder she kicked me out.

She saw my gears turning as I connected ALL the dots and continued, "Now you understand. And hopefully you understand that I couldn't just come to you and explain. It's still fucking weird, but you caught me in a really vulnerable spot."

I was bright red. With this new information, I was more embarrassed about my response and how I treated her over that incident than I was about the awkward subject matter, but there was still one dot I was having trouble connecting. "Look, I didn't know. I'm sorry I reacted how I did... but I don't understand what all that has to do with Danny-"

"DYLAN," Lydia corrected.

"Whatever. Dylan. What does our fight have to do with him?"

Lydia looked at the floor and turned another shade of red. With each passing second of awkward silence, I began to understand.

"Oh. OHHH. OHHHH! That piece of shit! Did he bang you then dump you?" My rage escalated with each word that came out of my mouth. "I am going to MURDER that little punk-"

"NO, no, no stop. STOP." Lydia interrupted. "I'm still a virgin. And that's kind of the problem."

I stayed silent to let Lydia explain. Me jumping to conclusions and playing the protective brother wasn't helping at all.

"Dylan likes girls with 'experience,'" she explained as she did finger quotes. "He knew I was a virgin, but he liked me. I was up front with him about all that - about how I didn't want to have sex until I was in love with someone. He was really kind and accepting about all of it. At first."

Lydia halted and looked at me. "I'm about to tell you some pretty personal stuff about me... will you promise to be nice and not laugh at me and all that?"

I scoffed. I mean, I know I'm her big brother, and it's an unwritten law that I'm supposed to give her a hard time, but never when it's actually serious.

"C'mon, Lyds. You know me better than that," I assured her. "I might get a little weirded out, but I'd never make fun of you or make you feel bad."

She softened and continued. "Well, after a few weeks, we started to fool around, and it was really tough since I wouldn't have sex with him. So I wanted to give him a blow job."

She clammed up and closed her eyes, bracing herself for my reaction. I sighed. She looked me in the eyes, trying to gauge my disappointment and/or disgust.

"Look, it's really weird talking about this stuff with you, and that's the only reason I might seem put off by it," I explained. "I figured you were probably having sex or trying stuff by now, I just tried to not think about it."

She smiled a little and relaxed.

"I'm not upset with you, though." I continued. "This is all really normal stuff that everyone does." She exhaled in relief and hugged me again.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I never ended up sucking his dick, either," Lydia continued. "I mean, I wanted to... I was just really nervous. We'd always fool around and it would get pretty heavy, and I'd tell myself I was ready..."

"But you'd freeze up?" I interrupted.

"Yeah, exactly," she said while nodding. "I'd get really self-conscious and worry I wouldn't be good at it, then my anxiety would just snowball and..." her voice trailed off.

"He was understanding the first couple of times." She began to tear up. "Then I found out that for the past couple of weeks he'd been fucking Chelsea." Her voice cracked. "I guess he just got tired of waiting on me. He called me today to officially end stuff." She started crying again. I hugged her tight until it subsided once more.

"Listen, you're gonna be ok. Like I said, it's his loss. One day you're gonna meet a guy who's going to treat you like the queen you are. You're worth it." I kept spouting off motivational platitudes about romance until I got her smiling and tear-free. "Also, remember - if some dude dumps you because you won't suck his dick, the issue is with him - not you."

"Ugh. Guys are the worst." Lydia groaned. Her tone turned inquisitive as she added, "It's not that important, is it? Blow jobs?"

I paused as I searched for an answer. Do I lie to my sister and tell her it's not important? Or do I tell her the truth and let her know I'd never date a girl who wasn't into sucking dick?

Lydia kept going while I was quiet. "Stacey says giving good head is important if you want to keep a guy. That's what we were talking about that day, by the way." She looked at me, and her intentional eye contact snapped me out of my inner dilemma.

"What?" I asked, trying to catch up.

"Sucking dick," she replied. "We were talking about blow jobs. I told my friends about my troubles with Dylan, and they were trying to coach me on the basics about sucking dick. That's why we didn't want you to hear us."

Lydia got quiet again and turned red. "That's also why it was so hilarious and weird when you offered to 'help me with anything.'"

I laughed out loud with the new perspective, and Lydia joined me. I think it was cathartic for her to be able to tell me everything.

After the laughter quieted down, I hugged her and said, "I'm happy I can get you laughing again. I hate seeing you down."

She smiled, kissed my cheek, and replied, "Aww thanks. This is nice." She put her head on my shoulder and we both relaxed now that everything was out in the open.

Suddenly, Lydia piped in: "You never answered me, though - don't think I didn't notice. Are blow jobs important to guys?"

Damn. I had hoped I could avoid this. I breathed in deeply as I was about to give her the hard truth. "Listen, it's not THE most important thing... but it's important that two people are sexually compatible - and I can't tell you a single guy that doesn't love a BJ."

Her face fell. Not out of disappointment or hurt. It was more like when someone confirms a fear that you've suspected. Lydia clicked her tongue and said, "well it looks like it's nun life for me, then. I don't know how I can get past my anxiety without some experience, and my anxiety stops me when I get the chance."

She looked away and started sulking. I didn't know what to say. This was awkward enough, but it wasn't like I was going to suggest she buckle down and really try to go out and suck someone's dick.

Just as I was about to give up and leave her to her sulking, she spun toward me and locked eyes again. This time, she had an curious look. She was studying me again. Trying to figure out if she should tell me what was on her mind again.

"Whaaat?" I sighed. "Just tell me. I know you too well."

She took a deep breath and said, "Maybe it's... not... such a... bad... idea?" through a nervous grimace.

She had lost me. "Maybe WHAT isn't such a bad idea?" I replied.

She narrowed her eyes as if she was trying to tell me through telepathy, to avoid saying it out loud.

When she could tell I still wasn't getting it, she rolled her eyes and said, "Stacey's idea."

I wasn't sure what I was missing, but I still couldn't follow. The only idea I remembered her mentioning coming from Stacey was the joke about having Lydia use me as her practice cock for blow jobs.

I screwed my face as I thought, "no, THAT can't be it."

Lydia opened her eyes widely and nodded to tell me "yes, THAT idea."

I laughed loudly at her joke. She'd just had her feelings hurt. She was obviously trying to lighten things up. Except... she wasn't laughing. My laughter switched to concern.

"Fuck you, you're not serious," I sneered, sure she was about to drop the serious face and finally admit that she was pulling my leg.

"Well why not?" She replied back, inquisitively.

I searched her face for some sort of sign that she was still messing with me. When I realized she wasn't joking, I was shocked.

"You can't be serious. What the hell?" I said in a dumbfounded tone. "Well, let's see - first of all, you're 18 and I'm 25-"

"That's legal!" Lydia interrupted.

"BARELY!" I shouted back. "Either way, you're too young and - this is head and shoulders above that - you are my FUCKING SISTER. Not step - like for real goddamned sister! How do YOU think that it would remotely be okay?"

She grabbed my hand tightly to snap me out of my rant. "I know, I know, I know... but please hear me out. There's no guy I trust more than you. I love you! As a brother, of course, but that's actually better - we could take a completely non-romantic, instructional-type approach to it. Plus, a secret like this would damage us both if it ever got out - we both have good reasons to make sure neither of us ever tell."

I searched for other logical objections besides the ones I'd already said while she kept making her points.

Lydia continued, "Think about it! No judgements, no hurt feelings, no relationship bullshit, and I get what I need to make sure I get over my anxiety!" Her voice was getting more excited as she kept thinking of more reasons why she thought it was a good idea.

"Plus," she added, "it's not like you don't get something out of it, too. Be honest, don't you like the idea of some completely risk-free secret blow jobs?"

I held out a hand to stop her, "Job'S'? As in plural? As in more than one? What?"

"Well sure," she replied nonchalantly. "You don't expect me to be good at it after just one, do you?"

I stammered and stuttered to find the words to say next. FUCK. She was making too much sense. To make matters worse, I'd never thought about my sister in a sexual manner, ever. Now, all I could think about was her supple lips sliding up and down my cock.

"Y-you're my sister," I stammered futilely.

"Well we're not gonna have SEX," she responded without missing a beat. "I guess just think of it as a type of massage? That you're giving me instructions on?"

I wanted to object, to continue to justify why it was wrong, but I had nothing left. "I don't want to do this." was all I could come back with, trying to stonewall her efforts.

Lydia snickered and dropped her eyes to my lap. I thought my perverted thoughts had been forming quietly in the back of my mind. I hadn't noticed that my cock had quietly grown into a pant-stretching, raging hard-on throughout all this, giving away my true thoughts.

"THAT tells me something different," Lydia chuckled as she nodded toward the bulge in my lap.

"Oh my god!" I exclaimed, grabbing a throw pillow and concealing my hard-on as I backed away.

"It's okay! It's okay!" she repeated as she scooted closer to me.

When I ran out of couch, she closed the small gap that was left, slid her hand beneath the pillow and let it rest on my rigid cock. "It's okayyyyy..." she whispered as she let her hand hug my dick with a reassuring squeeze.

In that moment, she almost had me. Her touch made my cock twitch in response and my hips gently buck automatically. My pulse was racing, and I was so horny that I almost didn't care anymore. Her squeeze shifted to a light rub and my legs parted to give her easier access.

"WHAT. THE. FUCK. ARE. YOU. DOING." screamed through my mind, and then I had terrible visions of our parents happening upon us and the life-shattering fallout that could follow. That was the mood killer I needed. I snapped out of it and pushed her off me.

"No, no, no - we can NOT do this!" I said as I stood up and backed away. I looked her in the eye to accent how serious I was. "Look, I'm sorry, I understand your issue, and I love you, but this isn't an option. It's just WRONG!"

My erection hadn't subsided, so it was pointing directly at the still seated Lydia's face. She looked at it, then back up at me before asking, "are you suuuuure?" in her most sultry tone, making one final attempt to crack my wall.

"More than sure," I snapped back.

When she realized I wasn't going to break, her expression changed from excited curiosity to disappointment. She frowned with genuine heartbreak.

"Please, Ken, pleeeease! I promise it would only be a couple of times until I felt like I was over my anxiety!" She pleaded, almost crying again. She was really serious!

Lydia cried, "I don't want to mess up another relationship later! I just have to get over this! Please! I promise I'd never tell and I don't even REALLY want to do it this way, but it just makes the most sense! I can't trust anyone else! Pleeeease!"

Her desperation was heartbreaking. All of the cock-hardening, kinky taboo stuff aside, I really did want to help her if I could. I just couldn't do this.

I had to walk away. I turned around and said "I'm sorry. You're gonna be ok, I promise" as I headed down the hall.

As I retreated to my bedroom and locked my door behind me, I could hear her sobbing again. Poor kid. Her mind was made up, and she was convinced that I was her only option. My mind was made up, too, though.

"My goddamn sister? PSSH." I scoffed in disbelief that I had almost let my little sister suck me off. Then, I masturbated furiously to calm myself down.

Almost two weeks passed after that, and things kind of went back to normal, although my thoughts of my little sister blowing me started taking over my fantasies. I jacked off every night as I thought of what it would be like. I justified my incestuous fantasies by thinking they were an acceptable compromise to actually doing it.