The Usual Disclaimer: This is a work of fantasy. All characters featured in sexual situations are over 18. The characters in these stories are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons living, dead or undead is purely coincidental. Do not try this at home.
* * * * *
My little sister was always ticklish. When we were kids, I used to chase her around the house and tickle her until she would surrender. Occasionally our mom would be in a lousy mood and she would chastise us when she heard Annette shrieking and trying to get away from me. It was always in fun; I wasn't trying to torture my sister by tickling her. When Annette would breathlessly pant, "I give up!" I would give her a peck on the end of her nose and help her to her feet.
Every once in a while, Annette would just be in a bad mood and wouldn't feel like playing. I could tell the difference when she playfully yelled, "Stop!" and when she was serious. Whenever that happened, I would quickly switch to being her protective older brother. Annette could always trust me not to run my mouth when something was bothering her. She could tell me anything...well, to a point.
Once she started having her periods and menstrual cramps, her "female problems" were a little out of my comfort zone. On the other hand, when she started having crushes on boys I was able to provide some useful insight. I was also there to tower over and intimidate any young guy who was disrespectful to my little sister. I never had to kick anyone's ass for her, but I would have.
After high school, I joined the National Guard. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I would get money for college, plus a few hundred bucks a month. As anyone who has enlisted in the military can tell you, recruiters lie their asses off. This guy assured me, "Oh, if you're in the Guard, you'll probably never get called on to go into a war zone. The last time that happened was back during the Gulf War, and they called up the Army Reserves first."
Bullshit.
After boot camp, I was sent to Advanced Infantry Training in Fort Benning, Georgia. To be honest, that was pretty cool. It isn't for everyone, but I liked getting out there and firing the weapons and participating in most of the training exercises. I felt like a real badass by the time we graduated—an honest-to-goodness killing machine. Then they sent me to join my Guard unit.
In Afghanistan.
I was shocked—at first—but my mother was apoplectic. She called people who were way, way up the chain of command from me, chewing them out and demanding that I be allowed to return home. Mom never told me that was what she was doing; I found out when that shit rolled back down the chain of command to land on me. Fortunately, my platoon leader was pretty cool. Even though he had taken some heat from our unit commander, he took me aside and explained what was going on rather than embarrassing me in front of everyone in the unit.
Still, word got around. I got the nickname "Momma's Boy" for a while. And by "a while" I mean the rest of my tour in Afghanistan. I called her the first chance I got and explained, "Look, Mom, I signed on for this. I'm under contract for two years. This wasn't what I was expecting, but our unit only has three more months here and then we'll all come home. Please stop making those calls. You're only going to get me in trouble."
I wound up lying to my own mother, assuring her it wasn't that bad and that everything would be fine. Before those three months were up, we lost seven guys in my unit. Two of them died and the other five sustained injuries that ended their military careers. Then the United States government decided to extend our unit for another six months. Before that was up, we were extended another year.
My entire two-year stint in the National Guard wound up being spent in Afghanistan. When I was approached about re-enlisting, I gave the guy a one-finger salute. I thought I was pretty clear with that response.
Now, it wasn't like I was constantly in a war zone over there. I did get some leave, but I didn't go home any of those three times. Instead, I basically took a vacation in Europe. Those brief respites kept me sane. Over the two years in Afghanistan, I made several friends among the locals. We couldn't have done our jobs without their help. It wasn't like we were constantly being shot at, but we still couldn't go anywhere without being in full battle fatigues with body armor and weapons loaded. In the heat of the summers it was stifling.
* * *
The flight from Afghanistan to Germany and the one from Germany to the States were Military Airlift Command flights. We were still wearing our uniforms and gear for those. It wasn't until they had me turn in all that gear and I was mustered out of the Guard that I found myself in civvies on a domestic airline flight home. Dad picked me up at the airport and gave me a huge hug.
Man, I cannot begin to tell you how good that felt. It wasn't like I needed a hug, but it was a welcome home that had been two full years in the making. We both had tears in our eyes when he finally released me.
"Your mother wanted to be here so bad," he said, shaking his head. "She had already made all her reservations for this business conference before she realized..."
"It's fine, Dad," I grinned. "You know she would be breaking down in tears if she was here. Oh, here's my bag."
I heard him chuckle as I picked up that duffel bag. It seemed awfully light, now.
"You look like you're in pretty good shape," he commented as I tossed the bag over my shoulder and we walked out of the terminal.
"Yes sir, I guess I am," I said.
On the drive to the house, Dad said, "Oh, I will be heading out pretty early in the morning. I'm working a 'camp' for some of our remedial kids this summer. It's only two more weeks. Your mother will be back in three days. Once we wrap up this camp, I want to do something as a family. We talked about it a bit, but hadn't really come up with 'just the thing.' If you can think of something great, I'd appreciate it."
My dad was a teacher, and had been my entire life. Most summers he would wind up doing something like this for the school district, so it wasn't a surprise. Mom was in one of those "it's not a pyramid scheme" businesses. She had started off selling makeup, but she had moved up in the company and spent most of her time recruiting and training other women. These business conferences, seminars and retreats had been a part of her life for the past decade.
I nodded. "I'll think about it," I said. Then I had to suppress a yawn. It was almost two in the morning, and I felt like I had been in constant motion for the past three days. I realized I was grinning like an idiot when we drove into our neighborhood and I saw the house. My room was almost exactly as I had left it two years ago, except it was obviously cleaner. I collapsed into my bed as soon as I stripped off my shirt, jeans and socks, and was asleep instantly.
* * *
I slept in the next morning until the sun streaming in through the blinds woke me. It took me a moment to realize I was home. A smile spread over my face just savoring that thought.
I am home. I made it!
I got out of the bed and stretched lazily. For the first time in two years, I didn't have to get dressed immediately in my uniform. It felt gloriously decadent to walk out the bedroom door wearing only boxers and my undershirt.
I sauntered into the bathroom to relieve my bladder. It took a while, since my "morning wood" stubbornly refused to go away. Once I had finished urinating, it hardened again when I shook out the last few drops. I sighed as I looked down at my throbbing boner. I needed to get laid, but I didn't know if any of my former girlfriends were still around, or available, or interested. It might be a while. I tucked that rampant trouser snake into my boxers and washed my hands and face before heading out to get some breakfast.
I couldn't suppress my grin when I saw my sister with her back to me in the kitchen. She was taller than I remembered her after two years, but I recognized her favorite t-shirt. I crept up behind her and my fingers slipped to her sides to tickle her ribs. Annette let out a blood-curdling shriek and spun around with her eyes wide in terror.
I held up my hands in front of me defensively. "Annette! It's me, Brian! Calm down."
I really hadn't thought it through, obviously. After all this time, she wasn't expecting me to be there. She started slapping at me with both hands, and I blocked those half-hearted blows with my forearms.
"You jerk!" she hissed. "You scared the crap out of me!"
I narrowed my eyes and hers went wide in response. "Oh, no," she muttered, shaking her head.
"Oh, yes!" I countered, once again going after her ribs.
She managed to spin away from me, giggling as she sprinted for her room. I bolted after her, but I had noticed that my sister hadn't merely gotten taller. Her body was no longer that of a scrawny little girl. That old t-shirt was snug around her prominent breasts and her hips were obviously wider. It wasn't something I was really thinking about at the moment—I was intent on catching her and tickling her into submission as I had done for so many years.
I caught up when she reached her doorway. She turned to slam her door, but I was too fast. Annette shrieked playfully as I tickled her, backpedaling toward her bed and swatting at my hands. At that point there was a disconnect between my eyes and the rest of my body. My hands were on autopilot, seeking out my sister's ticklish spots with unerring accuracy and avoiding her attempts to fend me off.
My eyes were suddenly captivated by hard nipples standing out prominently right in front of me. Through that threadbare old t-shirt, my sister's impressive breasts were almost completely visible. Her darker nipples and the circles of her aureoles stood out proudly, waving around enticingly as Annette giggled and bounced around in my grasp.
She kept backpedaling until the backs of her thighs hit her mattress, and then she lost her balance and fell back into the bed. She was at my mercy, giggling helplessly and attempting to scoot away from me on her back. I followed her and kept tickling her. I couldn't stop grinning. I had missed this so much.
Finally, Annette gasped, "I surrender!" and she threw up her hands over her head.
I was crouched above her in the bed. We smiled at each other and panted. I put my hands on either side of her ribcage and leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose, as I had so many times before. Annette's eyes shot open just as I felt something wonderfully hot and wet around the head of my hard cock.
I blinked as I looked into her eyes, unable to stop my hips as they pressed forward. More of my cock sank into that welcoming, wet embrace. Annette let out a soft, "Oh!" and that snapped me out of it. I stopped pushing into her and looked down. I mean, I knew what had happened, but it was still a shock to look at my sister's pussy for the first time and to see the shaft of my dick stretching it wide open.
