Big Sur Happening

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Big Brother discovers the Brat has grown up.
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You know, there are some funny things that happen in your life that you are unable to control. Whether or not, those things or intentional or not, I haven't the faintest idea. I only know they happened. Take me for instance. It didn't happen right off the bat. It started when I was around seventeen.

Back on the Southside. I had been living with my adopted mother who had been divorced from my adopted father for over a year at that time, and a younger sister. Oh, yes, maybe I should introduce myself. My name is Jon Reinlander.

Well... even though the incident originated over ten years ago, it didn't actually have its happening until a few months ago.

Unbeknownst to me at that time, it was incorporated by my younger sister, Leslie (name means; Lives at a gray and floral covered castle), and maybe if there hadn't have been so many years difference between Leslie and myself, things wouldn't have had worked out the way they did.

Leslie started out life as something of a surprise, because for years my adopted parents had tried to have a child, but never could... so they finally adopted me, and we spent several years together as a happy family.

Then my adopted parents suddenly got a divorced... why, I still do not know to this day... but anyway, when the doctor told Mom she was pregnant, she just about had a heart attack.

Newly divorced... and with no prospect of a job right then... the thought of having to raise two kids with no husband sent Mom into a panic, as she wondered just how she was supposed to take care of a baby and a four year old, when she didn't even have a job yet.

But somehow... I don't know just exactly how... Mom over came the obstacles and Leslie was born... conceived a week before mom and dad split up, and although our parents never said anything about it one way or the other, I doubt if she had been planned at the time she was conceived.

One thing that was for sure... is that Mother, Leslie and I always had a very close relationship with each other during our growing up years.

I'm five years older that Leslie, and I have to admit one thing... she's a very smart girl... but true to form Leslie remains a surprise to this day, and the only thing you could say about my baby sister is that she was unpredictable... and you never knew that she was going to do from one minute to the next.

Leslie's also one of those people who are very honest. She tells it like it is in no uncertain terms. It gets scary at times, because she never hints about anything. She just comes right out and says what's on her mind and damn the consequences.

This one particular trait of hers had led to a lot of fighting between us. Not physical fighting, just verbal fighting. She knows me better than anyone, and she knows that I wouldn't hurt her for anything in the world. That's why she won't let me get by with anything.

Whenever Leslie thinks I'm lying about anything, or being the least bit phony about my feelings, she screams and cusses at me... and tells me I'm a liar. It doesn't make any difference where we are or who is listening, she'll lay into me verbally.

She's very uninhibited that way. She yells at me and I yell right back. Many a times, this will happen at school when we take a break together. And from the way we go at each other, most of the students would swear we hated each other's guts with a passion.

But what usually happens after we have a big fight, is that I would apologize and admit I was wrong. And the awful thing about it was that I was virtually always wrong.

But to be honest, the part I really liked the best, was the making up. When we make up, Leslie would really get real affectionate after one of our big fights. One thing you will have to understand, Leslie never yells at me unless I am being a real big jerk. Which I admit, was usually quite often.

It's always been very easy for me to fool people and get away with a lot of stuff. All through high school I would hang out with what people call "the unsavory crowd" which I secretly hated. I only did it because they were popular. Leslie really laid into me about it, too.

I think if I didn't have her around to watch my back and keep me on the straight and narrow, even if she was a girl, I might have become a real user of drugs like the rest of those I hung out with.

For a couple of our teen years, we went to the same summer camp. I was a counselor because of my age, and the fact that I had gone there when I was younger... while she was one of the campers. You might think that my position of authority would have kept her from yelling at me, but you would be wrong. It didn't... even though I was one of the big shots, she never held back for a moment.

I was very popular with the kids, mainly the female campers, and I was really getting off on it. I started acting like some sort of an adolescent guru, handing out the secrets of life. I guess Leslie held off for about as long as she could. Then one day, right in the middle of a camp get-together, she just blew up.

"Jon... you are such a jerk, it amazes me," she screamed. "Who in the hell do you think you are. Some kind of a dime store messiah?"

Her choice of words and tone of voice at first made me dumbstruck. I tried to defend myself, but I could tell she was pretty hot under the collar... and also one hundred percent right in her perception.

Eventually, after some more of the choice words describing my various parts of my body, she cooled down some. We found a shady spot under one of the trees and sat down to talk it over.

I promised I'd try to cut it out if she would try to understand how tempting it was for me to be the center of attention.

"I know you like to be, Jon... but I love you so much and I don't want to see your ego get so bloated and bent out of shape, I don't know who you are anymore." she said, sniffling the tears away.

After that, Leslie let go of being an adult and went back to just being my kid sister. She laid her head in my lap. I bent my head down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. As I began to stroke her hair, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

I'll always remember that day, stroking my sister's soft, silky sun-warmed hair while she slept, one finger crooked between the buttons of my shirt. I adored that girl, despite of the way we acted towards each other. I loved her more than I'd love anyone else, all because she knew my faults and weaknesses better than anyone else and put up with them... but most of all; I loved her because she still loved me unconditionally.

That was five years ago... before I left for the west coast shortly after graduating from high school. I haven't been able to get back to the Southside since. How I miss those days!

* * * * *

The next time I saw my sister was last summer. It was just a few months after I turned twenty-five. She called me long distance from the Southside to see if she couldn't come and spend a couple of weeks or so with me. I told her she'd be more than welcomed to stay with me.

I was trying my hand at writing stories and had been renting a beach house at Malibu. I wasn't rich by any means, but I did manage to set back enough money to last me through the summer while I was waiting for another of my stories to be published.

I was a free-lance writer. Mostly, I do a variety of pulp stories under different pseudonyms. You know westerns, science fiction, detective stories, and that sort of thing.

Every so often, I would write sex stories and have them published in the various men's magazines. Both Mom and Leslie knew I wrote stories but I never told them about these particular types of stories.

I didn't know it at first, but Leslie was going through some rough times with Mom right then. She told me that she wanted to get away for at least a month and would love it if she could spend that time with me... if I would let her.

I told her what's a big brother for if not to spend some time with his baby sister.

"For Goddess sake, Jon. I want to enjoy being alive for a while." she said when she called. "Mom's getting to be a pain in the butt right now. She's trying to tell me what to do... who to see... and whatever. Damn it! I'm twenty years old now... not a little child!"

It was fine with me because I hadn't seen my kid sister since I left the Southside five years ago, and I was really looking forward to seeing Leslie again... and talking over old times. Maybe even yelling at each other a little to know that the magic is still there.

I guess it was stupid of me, but I was pretty much expecting a slightly taller version of Leslie when I went to L.A. International to pick her up... and after the plane landed... and the passengers debarked, I got the biggest surprise of my life. I was standing in the rotunda, looking at the passenger gates to see if I could spot her, and while I was standing there, I heard a soft voice behind me saying;

"Hello, big brother!"

I turned around to see who was doing the talking, and I was flabbergasted because standing before me, was one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. And I couldn't say anything for a few minutes, I was so lost for words.

When I did manage to say anything, it was, "Leslie?"

"It's me, big brother! Surprised?"

Damn right I was surprised. When I had last seen her, she was just a slip of a thing, but even then, you could tell that she would grow up to be a real bombshell someday... but I didn't expect it would be this soon.

She wasn't just a bombshell... she was the whole casing!

Her black hair was longer than I'd ever seen it before... shoulder-blade length, and from the looks of her ripe honeydew melon-sized breasts, she sure as hell filled out on top.

When she saw me looking at them... a little stunned at their firmness and lushness... her gray-green eyes flashed, and I thought to myself <Damn! is this my kid sister... or has the Goddess send down one of her angels to torture my soul?> Then the next thing I knew, she threw herself into my arms and planted a long, wet, passionate kiss on my mouth.

I was totally unprepared for the sexual thrill that ran all through out my body. I mean, sure I'd been without a woman for some time now, but that was on purpose. I was in the process of writing a novel and didn't want to be distracted.

And no matter how wrong some may say it was, having my grown-up kid sister in my arms felt wonderful... and very distracting. She was warm, and very, very firm... her nipples digging into my chest, and from the way she squeezed me I suspected she'd been working out.

The first three days she spent with me, we didn't argue one bit. I thought that was a little strange since arguing and yelling at one another was our usual method of communicating. I chalked it up to us both having matured over the last five years... but boy was I wrong!

My beach house isn't a big one compared to the rest of the other beach houses at Malibu. It only had four rooms, and during the first three or four weeks, I saw a lot of my sister. And I do mean a lot!

I saw her in a skimpy bikini that really only consisted of three small triangles... saw her in nothing more than a pair of sheer bikini panties, and a stomach bearing/ hard nipples imprinted cut-off T-shirt... saw her with only a towel wrapped around her body... and one time I even saw her without the towel... her beautiful, firm, ripe honeydew melon-sized breasts, and lightly dusted loins wet from a shower.

Only I wasn't suppose to notice those things, so I pretended not to... and all day long, while I worked and occasionally went swimming with her, I managed to keep any sexual thoughts out of my mind. And you can believe it, it was hard work. I was discovering a part of myself awakening that I had been completely unaware of... and I was not too sure if I like it or not.

At night, sleep took all of my self-control away. My dreams were like one, long XXX rated movie... almost like the stories I write... and my sister was the star.

I hadn't seen Leslie without clothes on since she was a little girl around ten years old, but in my dreams, she was gloriously, wildly naked, always holding her arms out to me.

In my dreams, the two of us were always screwing each other. In my beach-house... out on the beach... in the house we grew up in... every-where.

In one particular vivid dream, I was even screwing a eighteen year old Leslie on the front lawn of the summer camp we'd both gone to as the rest of the campers looked on in merriment.

I have never, ever had so many wet dreams consecutively as I did while she was there.

And I was so embarrassed and ashamed, every morning, before she would awake, I would sneak out of the beach house and wash the sheets out in the water of the ocean. I'm sure she thought that was pretty weird, but she never said anything.

On the fifth week she was with me, Leslie came to me while I was at my desk, writing on my novel.

"Listen, Jon," she said, "It's been very relaxing lying on the beach these last few weeks, but it's getting a little boring. Take me dancing tonight."

Now I'm not much of a dancer, but she was my sister and I wanted to do anything that would please her... and there's was a little club I knew of... so we went there.

It's not the hottest dance spot in Malibu, but I like it. The music is good, the atmosphere is pleasant and the crowd is pretty much made up of young people.

I like to go there to relax... when the writing isn't coming easily... and just before we went through the door, Leslie pulled me aside.

"If you run into anyone you don't know in here, don't tell them that I'm your sister. Let them think I'm your date," she whispered in my ear.

"Why?" I asked. I might have sounded a little dumb, but this wasn't like Leslie at all. She's never lied!

"You haven't seen me dance in a long time, big brother. When I start to dance, guys start hitting on me. I'm not in the mood for that tonight. If they think you're my date, no one will bother me."

"Don't you think I look a little old for you?"

She just looked up at me with those beautiful gray-green eyes... then reached up and caressed my cheek. "No... not really," she said as it was a matter of fact, and I caved right in. "You're perfect!" Then she took my arm and led me in.

After watching her dance for almost five minutes, I could see Leslie wasn't kidding about the way guys kept hitting on her. And even though I was posing as her date, there was still a bunch of guys who had tried to cut-in... but Leslie wouldn't let them. She just flatly told them "No!" and kept her eyes on me.

When a slow dance was played, we danced together... her head lying against my chest. But when a fast dance was played... I was always club-footed... so she danced by herself, and before too long, she was covered with a fine sheen of sweat.

She was wild... and unbelievably sexy! Her energy seemed to be inexhaustible... I, on the other hand, got tired just watching all her contortions, and no matter how hard I tried to keep my mind clean... just watching her breasts and butt gyrating around in wild movements... as she danced to the beat... kept the images from my wet dreams uppermost in my mind.

The more I tried to keep from watching her going through those motions... the weaker my will power got... and looking back on it now, I'm pretty sure that's what Leslie had running through her devious little mind... for my will power to be shot all to hell.

By one o'clock in the morning, the evening wound down, and the customers started thinning out... though the band began to play some slow dance music for the patrons left in the club... who were mostly the older generation.

I thought maybe now, she would let me sit down before I had a heart attack, but I was wrong in on that point, too. She swept me in her arms and held me close as we moved across the floor.

Her body was hot and damp with the sweat she had worked up. Her black, V-cut halter top and mid-thigh length mini-skirt were practically glued to her body.

The scent of her black hair was making my head spin, and I tried to move my throbbing prick away from her crotch, but she wouldn't let me. She pressed herself tighter against me, and I knew she could feel the hard length of my prick against the front of her loins, as she tilted her head back, and her smoky green-green eyes glazed up into mine.

I wanted to look away, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't break the eye contact... as the hard nipples of her ripe honeydew melon-sized breasts pressed into my chest... and her hips did the old bump and grind right there on the dance floor.

All the time we were driving our way back to the beach house, she held my right hand on her lap, and I wanted to say something... to talk about what was going on and how wrong it was... how much trouble we were headed for... but I could not utter a word.

I was scared. Maybe even feeling a little guilty about what I was thinking. Leslie, for her part, didn't say a single word. She just sat there, holding my hand in hers, letting them rest in the cradle where her thighs met her stomach.

After I parked the car in the carport, and we went inside the beach house... closing the kitchen door behind us... she pressed her body tight against me, then lifted her open mouth to mine.

Her lips were hot and sweet. They tasted faintly of cinnamon. Her tongue was like a snake, cool and soft as it darted into my mouth, running over my teeth... and before I even knew what I was doing, my hands swept down her back, grasping her soft, firm butt and grounded her crotch against mine.

Leslie moaned... the sound coming up from deep in her throat... and my Goddess, I don't think I've ever been that hot in my life!

It took all the willpower I could muster to push her away.

"No, Leslie! We can't do this!" I said. "No matter how much we'd like to right now, we can't. It's wrong! You're my sister... not some whore! One of us has to be an adult enough to stop this before it goes too far... before we regret what we're doing."

Looking down into the smoky green-green eyes, I saw that old familiar anger begin to build up. But I couldn't back down. I had to go on about how if we caved in right now to our sexual urges; we'd have to only pay for it the rest of our lives.

About how I understood the temptation, but we had to realize what people would say. I knew I should have stopped right then. But I was stupidly saying what I thought had to be said.

"Jon! I cannot believe what an idot you can be sometimes." she screamed. "I understand! I understand the temptation my ass. You don't understand a damn thing, Jon! You've been going around for four weeks, trying to deny that you wanted to screw me! You've been denying it your whole life! Ever since I started developing breasts. Goddess, Jon, do I have to tell you everything you want to do, but won't tell yourself the truth? If we want to screw each other, who gives a damn what people will say? I sure in the hell don't."

Leslie turned away from me. She was so mad, she started to cry. Now, I can never recall when I had seen Leslie cry before. At least, not in my presence, and as far as I know, I've never made her cry. That was until now... and right now, I felt like an idot.

I adored and loved my kid sister more than anyone else in the world. I had never wanted to do anything that would hurt her, but right now, at this exact moment, I was hurting her and acting stupid.

I went over to her, turned her around and put my arms around her. I held her close to me. Then we slid down to the floor and I rocked her in my arms like I use to when we were kids.

"Oh, Goddess, how can you be such a jerk, Jon?" she sobbed against my chest. "I love you. I've always loved you. I want you more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. And you want me, too. You big idiot! I can feel it... I can see it in your eyes. Goddess, sometimes I can practically smell it. Are you going to spend your whole life denying the things you want... trying to find the easiest way out... not caring who you hurt? Aren't you ever going to do what you really want to... no matter what?"

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