When I was thirteen she broke my nose. That wasn't just extremely painful, it was also embarrassing. She was two years older than me, but even so, losing a fight against a girl was hard to take, especially when that girl is your Sister. I told my Mother that I'd fallen out of a tree, and thankfully, my Sister kept quiet.
And that was the start of it. Our relationship, that had been mostly OK until then, took a downward spiral. Even now, with me being nineteen and her twenty one, we don't get on. With some effort from both of us, we can be nice to each other, but it never lasts for long, sometimes not even a day.
-
With her face only inches away from mine, and looking daggers at me, she shouted out, "Where is it?"
I nonchalantly shrugged my shoulders, and then I said, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
As I knew it would, my calmness made her even angrier, and that amused me. Her fists were now clenched, suggesting that she might strike me with them. However, I wasn't worried. Since that time, many years ago, when she'd flattened my nose with a lucky punch, we'd often fought, but only with words. Today wouldn't be any different.
"I'm going to tell Mother."
She then stormed off.
She could tell whoever she wanted. I didn't care. Of course, I did know what she was looking for. It was her watch. She was always misplacing it. This time I did know where it was. It was down the side of one of the armchairs in the living room. I'd noticed it sticking out when I'd sat down, but since I hadn't put it there, I didn't feel that I was under any obligation to tell her where it was. And if my hand had 'accidentally' pushed it further down, so that it now couldn't be seen, then that was her problem and not mine!
It was half an hour before she found it, and I knew that she had, because after finding it, she came to me straight away.
After giving me a triumphant look, she said, "Next time you need to find a more difficult place to hide it."
I just ignored her, and she left. But then I thought about what she'd said. Was she challenging me? If she was, then I wasn't going to accept it. It would be too easy to hide it in a place that she would never find it.
-
I was in my bedroom when I heard Mother calling me from downstairs.
"Richard, please come down, I want to speak to you. NOW!"
So I was in trouble, but what for? It didn't take me long to work it out. In the morning, while Mother was at work, I'd argued with my Sister. It was over something trivial, but it had quickly escalated. She'd been nasty to me, but I'd been worse. I'd called her a bitch and a slut. That had wounded her, and before she could defend herself, I'd delivered the fatal blow.
"You're nothing but a fucking cunt."
When that made her cry, I was surprised, but also elated. I'd won. But not long after, I felt ashamed. Making your Sister cry wasn't something to be proud of, even when she was someone that you hated with a passion.
As I entered the dining room I was ready for my dressing-down. Judith was also there, sitting next to Mother, and she was smirking. I'd been willing to apologise, but not anymore. I was now going to fight my corner.
"You said some terrible things to your Sister."
"Yes, but she deserved all of it."
Then my Sister chipped in with, "He called me a cu ..."
Mother interrupted her, just in time, with, "I don't want to hear it."
She then went on to tell both of us a few home truths. The most important ones were that we were living in her house, and only paying a low rent.
"Any more of this nonsense and both of you are going to have to move out. And I mean it."
As much as I'd like to have my own place, I knew that I would struggle to afford it. I had a good job, but it wasn't currently paying enough for me to be independent. Hopefully, in a year or so, I would get a promotion. Moving out would then be a more realistic option.
"I'm sorry, from now on I'll be on my best behaviour."
When I'd said it, I'd meant it, but I could tell that Mother wasn't convinced.
While giving me a stern look, she said, "I'll believe it when I see it."
Then she addressed Judith.
"And you can take the smile off your face. You're just as bad as your Brother. Perhaps even worse."
Because she also couldn't afford her own place, she apologised as well.
-
Until it happened, I would have said it was impossible. We'd managed to go a whole week without arguing. Even more impressive, was that we were actually talking to each other, and it wasn't just idle chatter. On one occasion I'd even managed to make her laugh at one of my silly jokes.
The next week was more of a challenge. Once, we'd come close. Before our promise to be on our best behaviour, what had started with a difference of opinion would have quickly got nasty. But we managed to contain it. It was brief, and by our standards, only minor. That should have been a warning, but to me, it was proof that we could control our emotions.
However, after only a day into the third week, I found out that I couldn't have been more wrong!
-
"Your skirt is very short."
That was just an observation, said without any malice, but her reaction to it was as if I'd insulted her. I could see the anger on her face. As far as I was concerned, I hadn't done anything wrong, but in order to keep the peace I was going to apologise.
"Sorry, I didn't mean ..."
As I fell backwards I screamed, and then I landed heavily on the sofa. I couldn't believe it. She'd pushed me over. But that wasn't enough for her. She quickly straddled me.
"Remember when you fell out of that tree?"
I hadn't. My nose had been broken because she'd sucker punched me. Was she going to hit me again? It seemed as if she might. I needed to put a stop to this before that happened. When I held both her wrists she tried to free herself, but she couldn't. I was a lot stronger than her. She'd only been able to push me over because she'd taken me by surprise.
"Let me go."
I shook my head, and then I smiled. That infuriated her. I now had a wild animal sitting on me. It was an effort to restrain her. She kept that up, for perhaps as long as a minute, then suddenly, all the fight went out of her. When, exhausted, and with her eyes closed, she slumped onto me, I almost felt sorry for her.
She wasn't heavy, so her being on top of me wasn't uncomfortable. And now, because of how she was lying on me, I wasn't just tolerating it, I was enjoying her being there. But in a way that I shouldn't, because she wasn't my lover, she was my Sister.
Her breasts were squashed against my chest. For a small woman they were big, so them being where they were, wasn't an unpleasant experience. In fact, being honest, I'd have to admit that I was enjoying it. But it was where her bottom was that I was trying not to think about. It was on the top of my legs, very near to my crotch. Of course, the inevitable happened. My cock started to grow. I was excited, and I wanted it to continue, but I quickly came to my senses. It was time to end this before it went too far.
After releasing her hands, I said, "You can go now."
Her response to that was to open her eyes and scowl at me, but she didn't move. Then she did, but in a way that took me by surprise. She sat up, and then she started grinding her pussy against my cock!
I knew why she was doing it. It was to make me feel uncomfortable. And it was working. I was enjoying it, and that was wrong. It was her way of getting back at me. Because of what she was doing, she was expecting me to have those mixed emotions, and when I was to push her onto the floor she would see it as some sort of victory. But I wasn't willing to concede anything to her.
Because I hadn't reacted in the way that she'd expected, her gyrating continued. My cock was now rock-hard, and despite my best efforts to ignore the pleasure I was getting from her, I was fighting a losing battle. When I gasped, she smiled, because she knew she'd won. She could now stop, but it wasn't enough for her, so she continued, but with more intensity.
To torture me even more, she moved again so that all her weight was on my cock. Enough was enough, I was going to push her onto the floor, and if that meant that she was going to hurt herself, then so be it. It would be her fault.