I was always a fat kid. No matter what I did, I could never lose the weight. I played sports in high school, dieted, lifted weights and ran for miles. As a result, I was always in pretty good shape, but I could never shed the baby fat. In college it was the same story, only with less exercise and more beer. So when time came to graduate, instead of going to medical school like my father and my older sister, I did something no one could have possibly predicted. I joined the US Marine Corps. Having always been a competitor, I threw myself in to training. I wanted to be the best at everything. I pushed myself hard, worked out after hours, and kept to a strict diet. As a result, not only did I lose 30 pounds in the first twelve weeks, but over the course of my first year, I burned off the rest of the fat, and put on about 30 pounds of solid muscle. I was a changed person. Opting not to take leave after graduation, I reported to my first duty assignment at Camp Pendleton, just as the division was gearing up to deploy. I was barely getting adjusted when 30 days after I arrived, I was a brand new platoon leader in Iraq.
After ten of the hardest months I have ever experienced, we finally redeployed back to "the world", and I promptly took two weeks of leave to go home. I hadn't been home in almost 2 years, so it never occurred to me that I must have looked completely different. I got off the plane and went to baggage claim, where my father told me he would pick me up, when I saw my stepmother and my younger sister waiting for me. I walked up to them, saying hi and smiling, and I was met with a blank stare from both of them.
Suddenly my stepmother Laura said "Oh my God honey, I didn't even recognize you." She squeezed me in a crushing hug, and then my sister practically jumped on me. Once they finally got over their initial shock, we grabbed my bags and headed to the car. My stepmom couldn't stop talking about how great I looked, and apologized that my father wasn't there. He had to go out of town for work on short notice and would call me later.
My father had always been disappointed in my decision. He wanted me to be a doctor. He couldn't understand why I didn't want to, and it added to the friction we already had between us. He had come here for medical school from Pakistan with no friends, no family, and only 8 dollars to his name, and was now a highly respected surgeon. He met my mother through his roommate, who was dating a friend of my mom's. My mother was studying ballet, with sunny blond hair, deep blue eyes, and nearly as tall as my father. From the minute he saw her, he never had a chance. He fell in love with the graceful creature the moment he laid eyes on her, even though he was too shy to do anything about it. My mom, on the other hand, was completely taken with the quiet, handsome young exchange student and succeeded in bringing him out of his shell. Two months after he arrived in the U.S., and a month after he met my mother, they were engaged. One month later they were married. He was 21, and she was just on the heels of her 19th birthday. Three months after that, my mother was pregnant with my older sister, with me arriving 13 months later. My little sister didn't come until 4 years later, once my father was well in to his residency. After my little sister was born, my mother went back to the ballet. One day during an audition, she took a bad fall and hit her head. She died in surgery and my father was never the same. Already somewhat strict, he withdrew into his work, and was cold and distant to us throughout our childhood.
We finally got home and Laura started to make dinner. I unloaded my stuff in my old room, and sat down to catch up with my little sister. She filled me in on the family details. My older sister, Priya, who had gone to a university about an hour away, was starting her 3rd year of med school, and couldn't get the day off to come home to see me. She would come home in a couple of days. My younger sister, Shabana (everyone just calls her Shea, as in Shea Stadium), was always more of an artist. She was starting her sophomore year studying dance just like my mother, and worked part time as a yoga instructor. Even though we lived in the same town as the college she and I both attended, she was living on campus and just came home to hang out with me. Laura called us in for dinner, and the conversation revolved around my weight loss, and the last year I spent in desert. I stuck to the funny stories I had from the war, not wanting to ruin the mood with the dozens of not- so- funny stories I had from that time. After dinner we sat around for a while until Shea had to leave to meet some friends.
"You want to come with Jay?" (My given name is Jamal, but everyone calls me Jay.) "Most of your friends are still around and we'll probably run in to some of them." I said sure, and went to get dressed. I made some calls to track down some of my old friends and planned to meet them out.
We headed down to the part of town where all of the old familiar college bars are located to meet up with my sister's friends, when my buddy Mike called. "Hey, meet us at O'Reilly's" he said. So once we parked the car we split up, and I walked off to meet the guys. I eventually found my friends in the crowded bar and started drinking. After about an hour, my sister texted me asking "where r u?"
"Still at the O", I replied, and about 10 minutes later she walked in with her gaggle of 19 year old friends.
"Oh my god" said 3 of my friends all at once, as they watched the young group of dancers slink through the bar. "Jay!!" my sister called out to me, and ran up to hug me.
Megan, her best friend since grade school, walked up right behind her and said "Holy shit, Shea. You were right. He is totally fucking hot!"
"Megan!!!" said my sister, blushing as she slapped her friend on the arm. Megan gave me a tight, lingering hug, and then proceeded to squeeze my shoulders, arms and back, as well as run her hand seductively across my abs.
"You really look great, Jay. You don't have an ounce of fat, and you're completely ripped."
"Combat is a great weight loss program, Megan." I replied, "120 degree heat, 65 pounds of gear, 3 gallons of water a day, and no time to rest. That will trim anyone down."
"You were always cute, but now you are by far the hottest guy I know" she said.
"You look pretty fantastic, yourself." I remarked as my eyes roamed over the young dancer's body. "The last time I saw you, you hadn't ...um...developed quite as much." The last time I saw her she was a junior in high school, and boy had she changed. As opposed to Shea, who was 5'9" and looked every bit the ballet dancer, Megan was shorter, about 5'4" and much curvier, with long straight blond hair, bright blue eyes, thick full lips, tight c-cups, a flat stomach with a narrow waist, and a rock hard bubble butt. She would never be a ballerina, she was built more like a Laker Girl. To be honest... she was built like a stripper. "I guess 15 years of dance classes really paid off."
"I'm glad you noticed. You never did before".
"The last time I saw you, you were a scrawny high school student. Times have changed. Besides, you're like a little sister to me, so I never really gave it much thought."
We turned our attention back to whatever drinking game our group started to play, and by the end of the night, most of us were pretty drunk. When the bartenders called last call, my sister found me in the crowd to tell me she was too drunk to drive. "Let's just walk to my house. It's not far from here. We'll pick my car up in the morning."
Shea, Megan and I walked about 3 blocks to the house they shared with another of their friends, Ashley. Megan's current boy toy, Joe, called her while we were walking. He asked if he could come over, and she agreed. "Booty call," my sister teased her.
"That's the only thing I want from him anyway," Megan replied, "He's kind of stupid, and he drinks way too much. If he wasn't so damn hot I wouldn't talk to him at all."
Ashley and her boyfriend Scott were just getting home the same time we were. They were pretty friendly on the sidewalk, but as soon as we walked in the house, they went straight into Ashley's bedroom and shut the door. I thought it was a little rude, since there was a group of us and I thought we were all going to hang out, but apparently I was mistaken. My sister and Megan both took off to get ready for bed right away, too. I sat down on the couch just as the doorbell rang, so I answered it to find a completely sloppy, falling over drunk college kid on the porch.
"You must be Joe."
"Yeah. Megan here?" he slurred out as he squinted at me.
"Come on in."
I went back to the couch and Joe walked to Megan's room. I stripped down to my boxers, climbed under a blanket, and turned on Sports Center to unwind for a few minutes, when I suddenly heard moaning and pounding coming from Ashley's room. "I guess that's why they were in such a hurry" I chuckled to myself.
After about 10 minutes I started to drift off, when Megan came storming out of her room and plopped down on the couch. She was dressed in nothing but lacy, Victoria's Secret boy shorts and a baby tee a size too small that barely covered her rib cage. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her full breasts and pink nipples were clearly visible. I couldn't help but gaze at her toned, petite dancer's body, and I asked her "What's up?" while trying to hide my growing erection.
"Fucking Joe," she said. "We were fooling around and he was going down on me. I was just about to cum when he stopped and climbed on top of me to fuck," she huffed. "I decided that I better pee before we really got in to it, so I ran to the bathroom quickly to get back fast. I swear I was gone for less than a minute, but when I got back he was passed out and snoring."
