"Hi, Doug had 2 bail on our long wkend in Maui due 2 biz and we're nonrfndable. Want to spend 3 days in Maui with me and catch up? XO" read the text. I remember it like it was yesterday, a Friday in July 2003 just before noon. My sister Lisa was probably already on her way. I'd never been, and it sounded intriguing. I could use a change, especially since I was just doing a bit of yardwork and housekeeping after graduating from college about a month before at our parents' place in Thousand Oaks. Soon I'd be starting a job in LA and I was bored, so a sendoff was timely. For laughs I looked at stand by opportunities and found some affordable flights -- unbelievable. It started seeming all so real, yet so surreal.
I have to explain -- growing up in Virginia with an older sister like Lisa was a real kick. She was fun, had a ton of friends, didn't condescend to me and most notably was absolutely gorgeous. What really stood out was her body if I may say so. A brunette about 5'4", she had beautiful cheekbones, a winning smile, and a ridiculous, traffic-stopping body, with great hips, a narrow waste and unnecessarily large and protuberant breasts.
When I was 11 and she 14, my hormones started kicking in and I realized that none of the girls around me could hold a candle to the forbidden and ripening fruit living down the hall from me. While I was relatively happy with my social life and was otherwise well adjusted, I did manage to harbor a pretty sick crush on my own sister! For the next four years before she took off for college I looked forward to the summer months so I could get into some proper perving. For some reason our parents installed air conditioners, then discouraged us from using them. The Virginia heat was oppressive and seemingly designed to have us shed as much clothing as we could. During these times she would wear gauzy nighties around the house in the evening and morning. She had a couple that were my favorites, white baby dolls that revealed slightly dark nipples gently waving back and forth as she walked to and from the kitchen. I could even barely make out her thatch below without getting caught, or so I told myself. Instant hardon! Sometimes she wore panties and a tattered UVA t shirt without a bra, which had a similarly stimulating effect on me. I just couldn't tear myself away from staring at her body, particularly when it was silhouetted against brighter light behind and the curves of her breasts were particularly evident.
After 8th grade I was keeping in shape caddying at a local course and knew I had a good body but hers was out of this world -- especially those breasts [I can't bring myself even now to call them tits -- they were too large and well formed for any but the best most luxurious word]. Because I was so entranced by her presence and more than a little bit disturbed by a growing exhibitionist streak I took to wearing as little as I could during the summer mornings and evenings as well. Typically old white briefs with or without a t shirt.
I remembered one hot afternoon in particular after ninth grade when I came home and looked out on our back patio. She was lying on her back in the 95 degree heat on the chaise lounge, sweating copiously in just a white bra and pink panties while taking in the sun. A dark spot about the size of a quarter had formed in the front of her panties. Was it because she knew I was staring at her from my bedroom, or just the inevitable result of too much heat? Probably the latter, but hey that didn't stop me from fantasizing. About a month later [I wanted to the next day, but didn't want to be too obvious] I did the same, laying out on the lounge in just my briefs when I heard the door bang announcing her return from work. I pretended to sleep but my penis was swollen, lying at a 45 degree angle and tucked up against the waistband. Then I heard the screen door to the patio bang and my heart practically jumped out of my chest as she walked closer. She merely shook me by the shoulder and recommended I get out of the hot sun, but I notice that she had to make an effort to avoid staring at my dick. What a sister!
I remembered many times watching TV dressed just so when she would return after midnight from one of her many dates. More than once she would repair to her room without having seen me, and then come downstairs in a nightie and join me in watching the rest of a movie. She was usually half lit and I am sure she noticed my boner tightening the briefs I wore, but she betrayed nothing more than a slight smirk and an occasional compliment for my flat stomach and strong shoulders. The best night of all was when we watched Wild Things together. I noticed she had her hand lying softly between her legs as she sprawled on the couch in her translucent nightie, and would occasionally glance over at me and my obvious erection. I did let her know I thought her body was better than Denise Richard's. Neither one of us dared to stroke ourselves in front of the other though.
After she departed for college my own dating life went reasonably well. I was very picky about whom I'd spend time with but while I was never alone too long, I never formed a serious commitment lasting more than a year. During that time the family decamped to California and I welcomed the change of scene.
Lisa had married two years after college an investment banker six years older than she was, and settled in San Francisco. He was a nice guy and seriously well compensated, but probably worked too hard. She worked, not nearly as hard, as a pharma rep -- or "drug dealer" as I kidded her. I am sure with her winning smile and other assets that doctors would pretty much do whatever she said, just to keep gawking at those boobs.
All this background was probably unnecessary, but provides an outline of where my thoughts might head at the notion of spending a weekend at a luxury villa overlooking the Pacific with my older sister who I hadn't seen in ages. Of course, she had no idea. Or maybe she had. I dunno.
I texted back "I'll do my damnedest to get there. Please text hotel number, thanks MUCH" and finished my yardwork. I didn't notice until almost too late that I really had to jam to make the first of the stand by options. I hurriedly stuffed some clothes and a swimsuit into a carry on and headed off to LAX. It was really hot and once I parked, I started sweating profusely running between the many terminals trying to make a flight. United no chance, American stiffed me and finally I boarded a Hawaiian flight about three hours before sundown. I was the last person to board, and they took possession of my luggage and checked it, on account of all the overhead space being full. Typical! All I had on me was my phone, keys and wallet. Hey, at least they didn't charge me.
I arrived several hours later but there was a problem -- somehow my luggage had been mislaid. I cursed myself for failing to put a nametag on the bag in my rush to leave and weighed my options. No shops were open and they promised to call me first thing when it could be found. Sure. So I took a short taxi ride to the hotel. It was gorgeous, with landscaped grounds, a beautiful open reception area with outdoor restaurants next to a large pool with palm trees and a series of villas on either side with views of the crashing surf. The villas appeared to be in the Hawaiian design but with clever plantings and bamboo fencing that separated each. The "butler" asked why I had no luggage and sympathized with my dilemma. He would be sure to follow up the next morning. He also let me know Mrs. -- was waiting in Suite 211, which featured a king bed and a private pool.
I must have looked a sorry sight as we approached the villa. I was haggard and dressed in a sweaty t shirt, shorts, and running shoes. Nonetheless on our knock my sister burst through the door and gave me a nice hug, crushing those breasts against my lower chest.
"It's so good to see you, and you look absolutely great," she lied.
"Thanks for having me over here, it's amazing, and you're amazing too!" I replied.
When she stepped back I saw that I had not been overstating the case. She DID look amazing, at the same weight and body shape that I remembered so well from her senior year in high school. She was dressed in a yellow sundress with a halter top and it was evident she was wearing no bra, about which I expressed no complaints. Her hair was tied in a loose bun and some strands fell around her face, making her look extra cute.
"So tell me, what happened?" I asked.
"Doug called me this morning just after I had boarded that he was stuck in Phoenix for the weekend. Something about closing a financing and a celebration dinner. I'm not mad, after all his work and not mine pays for stuff like this but it's kind of a bummer. I tried a couple girlfriends but they were all tied up even though they'd kill to come here.
"But first things first, you look like you need to relax. Was getting here hard? And where's your bag?"
I told her my story and she laughed it off, putting me at ease. "Well, first take a shower and we'll catch up over room service and a beer, what do you think?"
Nothing could have sounded better. I noted the layout of the place, with a raised platform on which stood a huge bed at the back of the room. It was fronted by a living area featuring stuffed chairs and a couch with a TV on one side and a dining table on the other. To the side of the bed was a stylish and large bathroom featuring a whirlpool about twice the normal size of a tub, and both indoor and outdoor showers. Cool art and craftwork littered the place. Tropical flowers were planted along the sides of the villa and along the sides of the deck out front, in which a small infinity pool about 12 feet square lay. Steps led down to a concrete pathway about 10 feet below, affording guests absolute privacy unless an 11 foot ogre were to trundle by. Magnificent!
My sister consulted the menu and reached for the phone. I closed the door to the shower and shed my stinking clothes. These were not fit for human wear until cleaned, and only barely so after that. I took a cool shower and took extra time soaping my genitals, which responded to my own touch as I reminisced. Afterwards I donned the bathrobe hanging from the closet and went out to find a nice pasta and salad for the two of us, and a bottle of white wine. We spent an hour leisurely catching up and polishing off the bottle. I was hypnotized by her gaze and felt myself getting a bit sleepy.