My Sister - My Lover

...All characters in this story are at least 18 years old...

*

My sister and I have always been very close, being only 10 months apart in age (I was the younger). Our family moved around a lot due to my father's job, and we learned early on that if we stuck by one another, it would make things a whole lot simpler, as we were never able to keep any long-term friends due to all the moving. So we spent nearly every afternoon of our adolescence together.

Pam really began to blossom in high school. She turned into quite the looker -- she already had a heart-melting smile, beautiful light blue eyes which were wonderfully accented by a smattering of freckles on her face, and long, curly, auburn hair. But what was really becoming quite clear was how special she looked with her strong, muscular legs that found their way up to a very taut ass and her amazing breasts that were really beginning to turn guys' heads. By our senior year (we were both held back a year, due mostly to bouncing around from school to school because of our father's job) she was a full C cup, but it was never "too much" the way that large breasts can sometimes be. No, they were absolutely perfect.

By this point, I had also developed a physique that was also garnering some attention. My father had finally settled down about a couple of years prior so we were able to take root in a small New England town. I had joined the baseball team my sophomore year, but wasn't quite good enough to become a starter until I was a senior By then, I had turned 18 and was really getting quite good at hitting. The captain of the baseball team -- Steve, also a senior (who shared the same first name as I, though I usually went by Stephen) -- had been dating my sister for awhile and he and I hit it off well.

One thing that had changed somewhat was Pam's overall demeanor, and the reaction it was having on me. Though she hadn't allowed herself to get involved with any guys when we were on the move, and now that we'd settled and she had begun dating Steve, she was now far more outgoing and flirtatious. Many of the baseball guys joked about it with both Steve and I, but we took it all in stride. But sometimes it was admittedly frustrating to hear other guys talking about how badly they wanted to fuck my sister. I have to admit, there were times that I'd find myself checking her out and getting a bit aroused. It was hard not to...she had taken to wearing pretty revealing clothing -- short mini-skirts, low-cut shirts, sweaters that seemed to be a size too small for her (I still fondly remember one that looked to be made of the same stuff as those strawberry-shortcake ice cream bars. To this day, if I see one of those ice cream treats, I nearly get a hard-on). And her mannerisms around me were different than they used to be too. I think I had done such a good job at becoming "one of the guys" that the same flirtatious behavior she showed around them she had begun to show around me.

Both of my parents worked until the early evening, so for a few hours after school she and I were home alone. Pam liked to shower when she first got home from school, and there were many times where she'd come fresh from the bathroom with only a tiny towel wrapped around her. She'd pause in the living room and have a conversation with me, showing off her long, creamy-skinned legs and freckled shoulders. As we'd talk, the top of that towel would drop a little lower...and a little lower...and a little lower, until the tops of her areolas would begin to show. It was always at that point that I would begin to stammer and be unable to look away, and she'd say something like "Ohhh, I guess I better go get dressed...It's probably embarrassing for you to have to talk to me while I'm practiacally exposing myself like this...look how red you're getting!" Embarrassed? No. Flustered and incredibly turned on? Yes. And sometimes the towel seemed to shrink in the opposite direction. These were the times that she'd actually come in and sit down to talk to me, with just that towel covering her. Again, the same thing: as we talked, that towel would ride up and up and up until it was just inches away from showing off the Promised Land. She'd get up, say something else about me being embarrassed, and tussle my hair as she walked past.

There were other things, too. Our conversations had turned a lot to relationships. She would ask my opinion a lot on different experiences she was having with Steve. She was very jealous of this other girl that was seemingly trying to catch his eye, and would ask my advice on how to handle the situation. She asked how I was doing with the ladies (not too badly, actually). She'd ask me if the other guys talked about her at all. She really seemed to like their attention.

And then one day, a day in which I was feeling very horny, she had her shower and came out of the bath with the towel wrapped around her. She stopped to talk to me in the living room again, and the towel was parted a little higher up her thigh than usual. I can't even remember what we were talking about when that damn towel accidentally dropped to the floor, landing mostly behind her. She yelped a little, turned around and quickly bent over to pick it up. The whole thing lasted for about 4.2 seconds, but in my mind's eye it all happened in slow motion. I had a wonderful, yet fleeting, glimpse of her freckle-covered tits, and her reddish-brown patch of hair covering her lower womanhood. I also had a tremendous look at her perfect ass. I had expected her to run off, but she didn't. She just hastily wrapped it back around her, turned back to face me and continued talking. I was as hard as I'd ever remembered being before, and I knew that from the position I was in, she'd clearly be able to tell (when I'm hard I'm easily a thick 7 inches -- tough to conceal in a pair of gym shorts). I didn't even care that she would see. And yes, she certainly noticed. I could tell by her stuttered speech and her own flushed complexion that she had indeed noticed; and there was also the fact that she couldn't stop staring at my crotch. Yes, there was all that, and one other tell-tale sign: I could see her nipples harden beneath the fabric of the towel. They looked incredible, and long! She concluded the point she was trying to make about something or other and went up to her room to finish getting dressed. I followed shortly after to go to my own room to jerk off. It was the first time that I had consciously imagined my own sister as I lied in my bed and stoked myself off. I think I saw stars when I finally came. I had just finished cleaning everything up when I heard a soft knock on my door.

"Stephen, can I come in?" If she had been any sooner, I don't know what I would have done. I quickly hopped back on my bed and told her to come in. She was wearing a pair of pink shorts, and a tight little t-shirt with the name and mascot of our school baseball team on it. She wasn't wearing a bra. "Stephen, can I talk to you about something personal?" She came over and sat next to me on the bed. "It's very personal, are you sure you don't mind?''

"Of course not, Pam."

"I need your advice on something. Steve wants me to have sex with him. I've never had sex before, and I don't know what to do. I mean, I know what to do," and with that she looked up at me, our eyes locking. I was beginning to feel my cock beginning to stir again. Her face grew a little more red. She was looking me in the eyes when she said, "I mean, I've done a lot of stuff already." She licked her lips and I began feeling a little dizzy. She went on, but looked away again. "Remember the game last week when Steve hit those two home runs? I finally mustered up enough guts to give him a blowjob that night after the game. Before that, I'd only given him handjobs. I've let him go down on me before, and oh god, that was amazing." As she said this, drawing out the syllable of 'god' as sort of a low moan, she threw her head back and closed her eyes. Her nipples were very hard now, and looked to be standing out about a half inch from her mouth-watering tits. I could only see one of her hands, and began to wonder exactly where the other one was. Could she be discreetly playing with herself? She had sort of covered her lap with a little bit of my blanket when she first sat down. "But I don't know if I want to let him really inside of me yet. I don't think I love him, but I'm afraid that if I don't let him fuck me soon..." (hearing my sister say "fuck" for the first time -- and mean it -- was an incredible turn on) "...I think he might break up with me, and I don't want to stop dating him...yet. I would like to have sex with him. I mean, he's so big, and I love the feel of his dick when I'm holding it and when I'm blowing him..."

I couldn't believe Pam was being this honest and open with me...I mean we'd always been close, but nothing like this. And I wasn't about to ask her to stop. Once again I was rock hard, and not in a position to conceal it too well. Pam's eyes were still closed, and her breathing had become somewhat labored. She had stopped talking, and there was definitely movement coming from under the blanket. She was licking her lips. I decided I should try to shift my position now, and as I did so, she opened her eyes and looked right down to the tent in my shorts. She moaned out an "Ohhh god" and quickly got to her feet. "Oh god, Stephen, I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to..." She seemed almost ready to cry. She turned and ran to her room and slammed her door behind her. I couldn't help but notice the dark spot on the fabric of her shorts over her crotch. I got up, adjusted myself a little and went to go after her to let her know it was all right. When I got outside her door I paused before knocking to try to hear if she was crying. What I heard instead was her headboard lightly hitting up against the wall and her voice saying "Oh god...oh fuck...oh god...oh my god...oh fuck...yes...yes...YES!" with a few moans and groans as well. The thought that my sister was masturbating put me over the top, and I dropped my shorts right there and jerked off for the second time in about 20 minutes. I came into my hand and waddled off to the bathroom with my shorts around my ankles. I hadn't even thought of whether or not Pam could have been aware of my heavy breathing and flesh-pounding outside her door.

I didn't see Pam again for the rest of the night. Steve had come by to pick her up before dinner, and I was already asleep before she came home. In fact, it seemed Pam was avoiding me for the next week or two, as I really only ser her briefly in passing and even then she didn't seem to look me in the eye.

I had inadvertantly found out from one of the baseball guys that she had indeed had sex with Steve. I wasn't upset that he'd let a couple of the guys know -- that's what guys do -- but I was glad that he didn't make a big fuss about it to me, nor did he treat me any differently. Eventually, Pam and I slipped back into our old routine of talking and getting along, and it seemed that at least she had forgotten about the little 'incident.' Back were the days of me watching tv or playing video games in the living room and her coming out of the bath with just the towel wrapped around her. Except now the flirting seemed a little more...sexual. She would talk about one of her friends and say things like "I'd bet you'd like to get between her legs!" and "I've seen you eyeing her tits, your little horn dog!" and "So-and-so is such a slut. I walked in on her giving her boyfriend a blowjob when I went to her house...I can't say I blame her, though, he's hung like a horse." If I didn't know any better, I would have thought she was trying to get a rise out of me. And, to be fair, she usually did. But nothing out of the ordinary happened after that, really. That is until that summer.

We had both graduated and Pam was planning on going out-of-state for college. She was still dating Steve, who wasn't planning on going to the same school she was. In fact, Steve and I were planning on staying in-state, and going to the same school, both with baseball scholarships. Pam and I talked a lot about the situation, and she confided in me that she was afraid that they would break up, and that they both avoided talking about their future. She told me that she was planning on having "the talk" with him soon, though because it was really eating away at her.

It was about half-way through the summer when she knocked on my door one early afternoon (I was a late sleeper) to tell me that our parents had explained to her earlier in the morning that one of my father's uncles had passed away and that they would be gone for a few days to attend the funeral, which was in Florida. Since it was so short-notice, and since she and I had never met the man, they decided just to go by themselves. They told her they'd be back in less than a week.

I finished waking up and went off to take a shower. When I came out, I was only wearing my flannel pajama bottoms, no shirt, and was still toweling off my hair. As I was walking back to my room, Pam was in the hallway, leaning against the wall outside of my bedroom. As I approached, she asked me, very off-the-cuff, "Stephen, how come you don't have a girlfriend?" I was caught off guard by this and pondered the question as I walked into my room. Pam followed me in.

"I don't know, really. I haven't met anyone that I like that much. I mean, after Kelly I just haven't really found anyone worth the trouble. And plus, with school in the fall..."

Kelly was a girl I had started dating around the start of the school year. On New Years Eve we had gone to a party and got into a bit of an argument on the ride there. I didn't think much of it. We both had different circles of friends at the party, and I went to hang out with some of the baseball guys. Just before midnight I went looking for her so we could ring in the New Year together. I found her; completely trashed, naked and chock full of two black guys I'd never seen before. I still don't know if I am over the humiliation. The only person I felt comfortable enough to talk about it to was Pam, of course. She had threatened to beat Kelly up. I told her it wasn't necessary and that I was planning on breaking up with her anyway.

"I guess I just haven't found a girl that I really like, or one that really likes me for me." I put the towel down and was standing in front of my dresser, looking into the mirror and clumsily combing my fingers my hair. Pam was behind me, looking at me in the mirror. She stepped a little closer.

"I don't understand it. You're such a great guy. You're great to talk to, you're a wonderful listener, and," she added with a mischievous smile, "you're not that bad looking."

With this comically snide remark, I spun around. "Not that bad looking, huh?"

She looked straight ahead, to my hair-kissed chest. "Well, most of my girlfriends think you're cute, but they're all sluts anyway. But I know something they don't know."

"Oh yeah, what's that?"

"You're ticklish!" Pam quickly reached out and started tickling my naked chest, going right for my nipples. I was pretty defenseless and tried to block her, but she was menacing. My only defense was to wrap my arms around her, hook my leg behind hers, and drop us both onto the floor. I began to tickle her back in earnest, going for the sides of her stomach and under her arms. Before we knew it, we were rolling around on the floor, laughing and tickling each other all over. I felt my hand accidentally brush by her left boob, and it grazed her nipple, eliciting a sharp intake of air from Pam. She reached down and started to target my most ticklish spot -- the backs of my thighs. In doing this, she succeeded in getting me on my back and she quickly and deftly pinned my arms down over my head, in a move that would have made any wrestler proud. She stopped tickling me and was about to say something when we both realized that I was as hard as steel and my fully erect cock was poking into her inner thigh. She looked me in the eyes for a moment longer, licked her lips, and then shut her eyes, drawing her face closer and closer to my own. She shifted her position so that her pussy lips were grinding up against the head of my dick, with only our clothing between us. She started to lightly thrust herself at me, striving to make as much contact with my cock as she could through my flannel pajama bottoms. She continued to inch her face closer and closer to mine and started to part her lips a little. My balls felt incredibly heavy, and I was afraid that any more stimulation and I might have an accident. Her lips tenderly brushed up against my chin and lower lip, and I groaned. It felt so good, it was so erotic and hot.

I wanted so badly to give in and kiss her; to let that kiss be the start of something far more sexual. But I knew that it was so wrong. I knew that I had to stop this before it got completely out of control. I grabbed her wrists and sliding my leg behind hers, flipped her over so that I was now on top and she was pinned down. She squealed and giggled a little and looked up at me, with a devilish smile. I hadn't separated enough from her though, and my hardon was again pressing up against her crotch. The heat was unbelievable.

"Oh my god, Stephen, ooooooohhhhh that feels so good." She never broke our eye contact and she began panting very hard, thrusting up at my cock with her pussy. Hearing her moan like that, saying my name, it was having a very dramatic impact on me. She sounded so sexy.

I could have had her right there. I could have done anything I wanted to her. And believe me, I wanted to. But I licked my lips and quietly spoke her name, trying to awaken her from this mad spell she was under. "Pam...come on, we can't. It's not right." She closed her eyes and her face got really flushed.

"Oh god, Stephen...ohhhh, Stephen...I'm cumming." She opened her eyes again and rolled her head back. The moans that escaped her lips were almost inhuman. They sent a bolt right to my cock. The words 'Stephen' and 'cumming' in her sexy, sultry voice were ringing in my ears. She had wrapped her legs partially around me and was grinding her pussy hard against me. I wanted to cum so badly, I needed to cum so badly. I wanted to rip her little baby-girl shorts off her and shove my cock as deep inside her hot, wet pussy as I could. I wanted to hear her yelling my name over and over as I brought her again and again to the throes of ecstasy.

But I didn't. I let her ride out the wave of her orgasm before attempting to regain my own composure. But I couldn't stop thinking about her saying both my name and 'cumming' in the same sentence, and especially with that look on her face. I had never, ever been more aroused in my life. I finally stood up and said, "Pam, I think you'd better go now." I turned so that she didn't have to face me. I could only imagine how humiliated she must feel.

As she got up, she whispered "I'm sorry, Stephen" and walked out slowly, shutting my door behind her. As soon as I heard it click I pulled off my pants and hastily started jerking my cock. I had hardly even touched it before the first hot, sticky ropes of cum shot out all over the towel that was lying on the floor. I had never had such an explosive orgasm.

I collapsed onto my bed, my head dizzy with confusion. What did this mean? What lay ahead for us? How were we going to face each other and what would we say?

I heard the shower start up down the hall and decided I would stay in my room for a while, until things calmed down. I fell back asleep, completely spent. When I awoke, I was unsure how much time had passed. The shower wasn't running anymore and I couldn't hear any movement in the house. Pam's bedroom door was open, but she wasn't in there. I headed downstairs. There was a note for me on the kitchen counter.