My younger sister and I had always been close. For one thing, we were only a year apart in age. For another, she had always been more like a brother than a sister. We hung out and drank beer together, watched sport together and even cheered for the same teams.
Mimi kept her dark hair short and either dressed in T-shirts and jeans or workout clothes. I can't remember ever seeing her in a dress. She had a filthy mouth, a cocky attitude and a wild streak a mile wide. In fact, I had barely noticed she was a girl, until that night, that is.
It began when we found out that my parents were selling our holiday home. It was located in a very quiet, rather quaint seaside town. We had been going there pretty much every holiday for as long as I could remember.
There were never any other kids there, so we had learned to be each other's best friends during the many long summers we had spent there. We had grown close and had remained that way. Our parents believed the cottage should be a place of refuge and quiet reflection so there was no TV or electronic devices. The phone signal there was terrible too, so you had to make your own fun. We had hated it as kids, but it had forced us to create our own little shared fantasy world that no one else was a part of. To this day we still have in-jokes and stories we tell each other that no one else would ever understand. We had, out of a combination of desperation and boredom invented countless games. Many of them were ridiculous and made no sense to anyone but us. But it was one of those games that brought us even closer together.
Although we had moaned about going there as kids, we had begged our parents to take us anywhere on holiday but the cottage, when we found out it was about to be sold we were horrified. Looking back, so many of our most cherished memories together had occurred in that house.We argued with our parents, begged them to change their minds, but it was already too late, someone had bought it apparently. Though our parents were apologetic, they firmly explained to us that, now that they were about to retire, they could not afford the place anymore.
We accepted it, but begged them for one last holiday there. With the house already sold, all they could offer us was one last night and that only on the condition that we went down a day earlier than them to start packing up the place. They would arrive the day afterward with the U-haul ready to cart away the furniture that wasn't being sold with the house.
That was how we found ourselves one afternoon on a long weekend, lying outside on sun loungers on the second-floor balcony overlooking the bay, sipping cold beers and reminiscing about our childhood together in this house.
We had drunk about 2 or 3 beers a-piece and had both developed a pleasant buzz. The laughter was flowing and so was the beer. I was just thinking about how I would never have a friend as good as Mimi, no one could ever know me like she did, when a loud beep sounded from inside the house.
I looked at Mimi. Mimi looked at me and then, just before I could get the word out she shouted, "Beep!"
"God damn it!" I swore, "I forgot how fast you were at this game."
She hooted with laughter, clutching her sides with the joy of it, "Fuck yeah! I win again. But then, I always win. Are you ready for your command, Trevor the robot?"
I should explain here that one of the games we invented was a pretty silly one called, simply, The Robot Game. It worked around this faulty alarm system my parents had installed in the house not long after they bought it. Security was not a big issue in the tiny isolated harbor town, but we lived three hours drive from the place and only visited it a few times a year so my dad thought it was a necessary precaution.
Needless to say, the alarm system was a waste of money and went off so often and without provocation that my dad eventually disconnected it. Unfortunately, he had failed to do the job entirely and the damn thing had this annoying beep that it would sound at completely random intervals and for no apparent reason.
I think it had been Mimi who had invented the game. The way it worked was, when the beep sounded, the first person to echo the beep immediately became the controller and the other person became a robot. There was really only one rule to the Robot Game, which was, no matter what, you had to follow the command you were given. It sounds silly now, but as kids that rule was sacrosanct. To break the rule was, to us, worse than death.
In its genesis, the game was pretty mild. We had started by ordering each other to fetch things or complete mundane chores, but it had escalated pretty quickly from there.
The game had ended for good when I was about fifteen and Mimi, who won the game nine times out of ten, had commanded me to jump off the second-floor balcony. The holiday had ended early when I broke my arm in two places and my parents, not trusting the local country doctor, had packed up and driven us the 3 hours home.
Now I looked at Mimi, my mouth open, but a fraction too late. Her grin spread even wider across her face. I bowed my head in submission and she punched the air and whooped again.
"Once more, for old time's sake," I thought.
"How may I serve, master?" I asked in my best robot voice.
Mimi squinted her eyes as she thought then, giving her beer a little shake, she said, in her best commanding voice, "Go fetch us more beers, slave."
"Your wish is my command." I rose up and walked in a stilted, jerky robot fashion, which earned me a laugh and a slap on the ass from Mimi.
A moment later I returned with the open beers, handed Mimi hers, and slumped back into my lounger. For the next half hour or so we laughed about the more crazy robot commands we had completed in our time. Most of the jokes were at my expense, but I still probably laughed the hardest. We were just losing ourselves in another memory when the beep came again.
"Beep!" Mimi shouted before I even had a chance.
"Hey, not fair!" I moaned, still clutching my aching sides and trying to catch my breath from laughing at one of Mimi's stories from before, "I was laughing."
"Too bad little robot. Ready to serve?"
I grumbled a bit more but finally answered, "Yeah, I'm ready."
"I'm sorry that answer does not compute."
I gave her a glare, she met it, but I could see the laughter brimming at the corners of her eyes. I cracked first and laughed again and she joined me shortly after. While she rolled around in a fit of giggles she reached out a hand and held one of mine to steady herself. The contact was familiar and warm.
Finally settling I took a deep breath and again, in my best robot voice, answered, "How may I serve, master?"
"Um," Mimi tapped her beer bottle to her full lips, lips which seemed always on the verge of blossoming into a smile, "What to do? what to do?"
"More beer?"
"Yes, obviously, but I am not going to waste my command on something you are going to do for me anyway. No, I want you to humiliate yourself a little, for old time's sake."
"Mimi," I groaned. She was right, most of the stories we had been telling involved me making an ass of myself in some way.
"Go and moon the beach." She waved her bottle towards the edge of the balcony dismissively.
"Seriously?"
"Hey, we're adults now, so we're playing the adult version. Besides, there's hardly ever anyone out there. Go show your pasty white butt to some seagulls."
"My butt is neither white nor pasty," I said defensively, standing up, feeling a touch light-headed.
"Pasty butt! Pasty butt!" She chanted. I gave her the finger and made my way over to the railing.
When I hesitated she gave me a steely glare and warned, "You'd better not think of backing out, robot. You know the rule. I would never forgive you."
"Yeah okay," I sighed. Then, unbuckling my belt I turned my back to the sea and yanked down just the back section of my shorts.
"PASTY BUTT!" Mimi roared and held up both arms in a cheer. I held my pose, bare backside sticking out over the railing, directed at the sea, knowing Mimi would not accept it if I ended it before she gave the command. I even gave my ass a little wiggle for her enjoyment.
Finally, after another cheer and some more laughter, she let me know I could pull my shorts up again. I was making my way back to the loungers when, just as Mimi was starting another roast about how my butt was so white if there was anyone on the beach they would have thought there was a second sunrise, I heard the beep.
"Beep!" I shouted, exultant. Mimi stared at me dumbfounded. It was very rare that I ever beat her.
"You shit! I was talking."
"You never seem to stop. Come on, play by the rules."
"I can't believe it, it never beeps twice in a row like that."
"I want to hear you, little robot."
"Fine," She pouted, "How may I serve, master?"
I pretended to think it over, but I already knew I wanted revenge for her little dare.
"It's your turn to flash the beach."
"Really? That's so original. The people down there are going to start thinking its a bakery up here, the amount of buns we have on display."
"Hilarious, Mimi. But no, not your butt."
"What then?"
"Let's call it tit for tat?"
"Jesus, and I thought my pun was bad. Alright, let's show the seagulls some titties."
"Show the seagulls some titties!" I agreed.
Maybe it was the beer, or else Mimi was a lot more confident in her body than me because she did not wait to go to the edge of the balcony to perform her task. Instead, she leaped up to stand on her lounger, lifted up her tank top and sports bra in one swift jerk and yelled, "TITTIES!"
I stared, jaw slack as her magnificent breasts tumbled out of her shirt and bounced momentarily before their youthful firmness reset them into their perfectly sculpted natural form.
We had obviously seen each other naked growing up, but that had stopped before the onset of puberty. Mimi's body was incredible. Maybe I hadn't noticed because of the clothes she wore, or perhaps I was not expecting her to be so generously endowed, given her rather boyish physique. I think it also had to do with the fact that she was both my sister and best friend. I had never seen her in that way before. Not until that moment.
Her breasts were easily a handful, possibly more, and each one was topped with a large, protuberant nipple. Her areolas were a dark pink and not much wider than twice the diameter of her nipples. They were the nicest set of tits I have ever seen.
"Holy shit, Mimi!" I yelped.
She turned to me, impassive, her top still rolled up over the curve of her chest. I was hit with the full force of both wonderful breasts facing me head-on. Despite myself, I felt my cock throb painfully as it blossomed to full rigidity in my shorts.
"What? Challenge accepted and completed, bitch!"
"Okay, damn. Good job. Uh, you can put those away now."
"Pshh," She curled her lip at me before using her hands to work the material back down over her boobs. I had to resist the urge to lick my lips when I saw her struggling to tuck those big nipples back under the tight sports bra. "Is it embarrassing for you that your sister has bigger balls than you?"
"Yeah, yeah. You'll poke someone in the eye if you walk around with those things out," I said, trying for jovial, unsure of how it came out.
She laughed and went back to beer, chortling, "Dickhead."
The fourth beep came during our fifth beer. The sun had set and we both had a pretty good buzz on. I had more or less forgotten about seeing Mimi's wonderful breasts.
Actually, that is a lie, I could not stop thinking about Mimi's breasts. Every time I looked at her now all I could see was her naked chest. I found myself looking at her too much. She began to give me curious looks, as if I was touched in the head. All this muddle going on in my head meant that I didn't stand a chance when the beep came again.
"Beep! Yeah, bitch!" Mimi crowed. I could only shake my head. I knew that the challenge was going to be bad before she even opened her mouth. Mimi always knew how to escalate things.
"Pants!" Mimi announced, not even bothering with the robot and master routine.
