This is a very slow-burn story with a softer-than-soft-femdom sort of vibe. I hope you enjoy! Whether you do or don't, I always appreciate feedback about what worked and what didn't (: All characters are over 18.
***
Charlie was already out of the house by the time I woke up the next day, so I luckily didn't have to see her and pretend nothing had changed in front of our parents. Instead, I spent the day playing video games, but really was just thinking about what had happened.
My sister had given me a handjob. And I fucking
loved
it. It was the most intense experience I'd ever, well,
experienced
.
I guess that's why I had such strong feelings at the end
, I thought to myself.
Why do you always have to act like such a little kid. You're 18 for Pete's sake! If you lived in West Virginia, you'd probably be a grandfather by now!
I let out a sigh.
Just stop thinking so much and enjoy that the sexiest woman you've ever been around TOUCHED YOUR DICK AND MADE YOU CUM.
I admitted to myself that this was extremely sound advice. But...I couldn't let go of the feeling that that's not
all
that had made it so exciting. As much as I relived Charlie's hand furiously stroking me, it was the feeling of her arms around me, of her low, even voice against my ear, and the way her eyes lit up while she looked at me -- those were the things my mind drifted back to when I wasn't keeping it on track.
By the time she arrived home that evening from wherever she'd spent her day, I was determined to
actually
play it cool this time during puzzle time.
As I entered the living room, I took stock of Charlie's outfit, as usual. She was wearing some kind of workout shorts with the tanktop and sports bra again. Maybe even the same ones.
Hey if it ain't broke, right?
I sipped from the token glass of water that I pretended had been the reason I was downstairs and sidled over to my sister. She was looking down at the puzzle, which she appeared to have made some progress on. The edge pieces were all in place, and the picture was starting to take shape. But Charlie was staring blankly at it, mindlessly turning a puzzle piece over and over between her fingers.
"How's it going?" I asked.
She gave a grunt that was caveman for "meh" without turning to look at me.
I guess we aren't going to make a big deal out of last night, then.
That was fine by me -- I was
Cool Danny
, after all.
Nothing to make a big deal out of!
I just sipped in silence and drank in my sister's body.
Before I could lose myself in her lines and subtle curves too much, she spoke, softly, without turning to look at me.
"I keep wondering, how do they decide where to cut the puzzle apart?"
She let the question hang, as if I was supposed to give an answer. I gave only a shrug, unsure if she even saw it. She continued either way.
"Like, if you know what you're looking for, can you look at something and know, like,
just
how it's going to shatter? Where the fault lines are? How many pieces you'd need to put it back together? Is there some guy who works for the puzzle company and sits in a room all day deciding what each piece should be shaped like?"
"...Huh?"
She kept talking, looking at the top of the puzzle box now, tracing her finger along a plank on the bridge. I was listening still to whatever it was she was trying to say, but my gaze drifted lower, and lower, and
lower
. Her legs just seemed to go on forever -- smooth and toned and just begging to be touched.
"Or, is there a pattern to it?" I heard her say, as I began fantasizing about granting her legs their wish, how her skin would feel on my fingers, on my cheek, on my lips. "Some formula so that anybody could do it?"
She turned to me now, but I was a beat too late, tardy in flicking my eyes up to hers to see that she had noticed where my attention was. Heat rushed into my cheeks, and her expression changed, the corners of her mouth tugging themselves into a faintly amused smile -- something I was far more used to seeing from Charlie.
"You really do like my legs, huh," she said, with a bemused tone to match. Makeup-less, her face looked tired, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, save for a few wild strands that refused to cooperate. Her eyes were alight with playfulness, though, and now seemed as warm and inviting as her legs.
I tried to shrug it off, to play it cool, just like I'd practiced in my head.
"Yeah," I said, with a literal shrug. "You have nice legs, not gonna lie."
Nailed it!
She gave a little snort and smiled wider, ruffling my hair, as if I'd said something adorable. I frowned.
"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," she said, dropping the puzzle piece to the table with the rest of the pile and brushing past me. She turned and looked at me, seeming to mull something over in her head. Then she motioned with her pointer finger, a gesture that could only mean "come with me."
I almost dropped the glass. I gulped, and, stupidly, looked around, as if there were someone else she could be gesturing to.
Charlie winced, laughing softly.
"Yes,
you
, doofus. Sheesh. Can't even let a girl be sexy and mysterious, can you." She rolled her eyes but was smiling, and disappeared through the doorway and up the stairs.
I stood rooted to the spot.
Should I take the glass? What if I get thirsty? But what if I drink too much? OMG, what if I have to pee while we're in the bathroom?? Can I just do it there? It
is
a bathroom, after all. But I don't think I could pee in front of her--
I shook my head and snapped myself out of it, putting the glass down on the table with a little bit too much force as I worked up my nerve. I was
not
going to miss this opportunity.
I marched up the stairs, determined.
My smoking hot sister wanted me to think she was sexy and mysterious. And she is! What would be awaiting me in the bathroom? Would she be in her underwear? Would she be naked?? In the shower? Were
