He was gorgeous! To say that my 22 year old brother Brian was a good looking guy was the understatement of them all. He had always had the build of a Greek God in my opinion. Standing at an eye-pleasing 6'1" with thick broad shoulders, generously well muscled arms, beautifully chiseled chest, abs that went beyond the "six pack" that most athletic men have, and strong, powerfully well toned legs. His thick, wavy, earthy brown hair, naturally tanned olive skin and soul searching chocolate brown eyes have been known to entice many women, both young and old. But, his best feature of all was his smile, and much to my regret, he knew how to use it. All he ever had to do was flash his sexy white smile and he could get just about anything he wanted. He has always been my fantasy. Growing up we were close, but at times we fought like all siblings did at one time or another.
It was during my late teens, also my awkward years, that we had most of our fights. Almost all of them were caused by the teasing that he heaped onto me whenever he would come home on the weekends from the nearby college he was attending. Every weekend, he would walk in the door with his bags of laundry and start calling me the classic big brother names that he always did. One particular weekend, just after my eighteenth birthday, which he missed, he came over as usual, but Mom wasn't there. I was up in my room when he got home.
Hearing his car in the driveway, I groaned, not looking forward to his name calling. Standing in front of my mirror, making a mental check list of what my brother always teased me about, wondering if he was ever going to see the real me. My young, firm breasts were no longer the speed bumps that he always called them, but rather the size of medium sized honeydew melons and probably just as heavy. He had taken a liking to calling me a string bean in the past because, I had guessed, of my hips. But, those too had filled out nicely as well. Continuing to look at myself, I could see that my waist and abs were lean and flat causing my hips to look a bit larger than they really were. Turning to the side to check over my own ass, I ran my hands over it to feel the nice combination of firmness mixed with just the right amount of softness. Looking down past my shaved vagina to my long shapely legs thanks to the years spent on my high school track team. Getting closer to study my own face, thanking the heavens that there were no blemishes anymore, I looked into my own eyes. Judging them to be slightly almond shaped and a nice shade of hazel with naturally thick lashes that never needed mascara. My nose was what my mother called button shaped and my lips were full and pouty. My father had always called me his heart faced pixie because of my heart shaped face and slightly rosey cheeks. Backing away from the mirror, I turned and started crossing the room to my bed where I had tossed my robe after coming in from the shower.
Half way to my bed I jumped as my door opened. There in the doorway was Brian. We stood there for a full minute looking at each other. He was wearing a white tank top that showed off his lean upper body and black jeans that looked too tight in all the right places. I could see the shock at finding me nude was written all over his face. Uncontrollably, my eyes glanced down to see the growing bulge in the front of his jeans as he looked at me. I began to feel myself grow damp between my legs as I looked at him.
"Uh...," was the only sound he was apparently capable of making.
Snapping my eyes up to his face as though being pulled out of a trance forcefully. "BRIAN," I yelled in shock and embarassment. "Can you get out of my room?"
To my surprise he didn't move, except to let go of the door handle and lean against the doorjamb. Brian actually smiled as he looked at my body and crossed his arms in front of him. "Why should I, bean pole?"
Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, knowing that if I were to lose my temper now he would just continue to call me names. Looking at him again, "Because," I started as I turned, walked over my bed and grabbed my robe, "this is my room. And you have no right to enter it without knocking." Sliding my arms into my robe, enjoying the feel of it's silky material glide over my smooth skin.
Without looking at my face, Brian's gaze seemed to lock onto my breasts. Watching his face as I felt reluctant to close my robe, tying the sash around my waist. When his eyes met mine I thought I saw disappointment in them, but I must have been wrong for he quickly pasted that fun loving smile of his onto his face.
"I noticed that our parental units are not home." Saying this as he sauntered further into my room looking at the things on my wall. Picking up a heart framed picture from my nightstand, he looked over at me then back at the picture. "Why do you have a picture of me by your bed?" The amusement I heard in his voice was sheer torture for me.
