I hadn't seen my baby sister in three years. At seventeen she decided that she wanted to move to Europe, with a promising husband and a wonderful job waiting for her there. She had met him on the internet and the relationship had apparently (I was not privy to every detail) evolved from cybersex into friendship, then through emails and phone calls into a fully blown romantic relationship.
My parents were not very happy to welcome the older guy (he was about 27 at the time) for a month long visit in 2001, but they grudgingly accepted. Sadly, things didn't work out very well between them and he left early, to the great humiliation of my sister Dasha. A month later she announced that she was moving to Europe to find her husband. My parents were shattered by the news (as there had been no place for negotiation), but were too proud to do anything drastic about it.
I hadn't really liked the French guy myself, but it was clear that my sister was really happy with him. I was saddened when she left as we really enjoyed each other's company, but what else could I do? She kept in touch with me more or less regularly, mostly through emails, but physical distance finally created emotional distance after a year or so. We wrote to each other every two or three months, nothing more.
I was shocked, three weeks ago, when I received an email from her: her oh-so-wonderful husband had thrown her out of his home. I just couldn't believe it: he had all but literally thrown her out. Dasha hadn't said why, and I had a feeling that I'd never know the full story. It was clear from her email, though, that she was in a bind, with nowhere to go or live. I guess that most of her friends were that creep's friends, and that they wouldn't help her now that she was not with him anymore. One of her friends from work had offered her couch, but Dasha said that she was only barely welcomed there.
So after wrapping things up at work, as she needed good recommendation papers for her next job, she was flying back to the States. She couldn't come back to our parent's house, not yet anyway, so I offered her the guest room at my place. She even begged me not to tell anything to either mom or dad, that she would find a way to talk to them soon. I didn't think that it was such a good idea, to hide the fact that she was coming back, but it was her decision to make.
Here I was, sitting along at the airport, waiting for flight 322, wondering how our reunion would go. After she had outgrown her fourteen and fifteen year old rebellious phase, we had gotten along really good. To the point of doing things together like camping, skiing, and even little things like watching movies together. I'd been living on my own for the past 5 years when we began reconnecting, being six years older than her, but she'd often come to my place just to hang around. It was a bit peculiar, I know, but we really did have a great time together.
One question was worrying me, as I was sitting near the large gate: would I recognize her instantly? I was sure that I would, but on the other hand I had no idea what she had done to her appearance during those three years or so. When she left three years ago, she had been a tall teenager with a tight body and short dark red hair. In fact, one of her favorite pound-on-herself subject was her body: "I look like a kid!" she'd often complain at 16 and 17. Small breasts, barely-there hips and long skinny legs. I knew she had the potential to become a really good looking woman, having seen many young girls flourishing at around 19, but she never believed me. What would she look like now?
Well, I was about to find out: the gates were opening. I *did* recognize her instantly in the end. She was still the tall girl I remembered even though her hair were now much longer and her figure had matured quite nicely. She smiled broadly when she saw me and ran into my arms laughing and hugging me tight.
"Wow! You've been working out brother!"
I had. "Well yeah, it helps when the gym's in your basement!"
"You look great!" she grinned, looking me up and down.
She pulled me into her arms again, laughing. But after a few seconds it was clear that she wasn't all that joyous, but that the recent events had taken a toll on her. I kept my arms around her as she relaxed, and I felt that she was close to tears. We got her things and headed back home. She did cry on the way back, filling me in on the particulars of her last months as well as letting all that tension blow over.
A stroke of luck in a computer project I had begun while still in high school had given me more than enough money to live comfortably for the rest of my life. I sold my ideas and patents, two years ago, to a huge company I respected; one I was sure would keep doing great work on my brainchild. Why did I sell out? Two reasons, the first one being 10 million dollars. The second one was even more compelling: bureaucratic nightmare! Ten different licensees, my app bundled with 23 different suites or applications, overall selling about 250 000 copies. So I had two choices: becoming a full time (15 hours a day) boss, hire employees to work for me, deal with clients, publishers, support groups and so become a completely stressed out multi-millionaire; or else make 10 million dollars with one pen stroke and live care-free for the rest of my life. Now all I had to deal with was a really competent broker/investor and my financial future was settled.
Of course my sister knew about all of this, but she was not prepared for the house she saw when I rolled onto the driveway.
"Wow! That's impossible bro!" and then she laughed out loud.
"Well, did you think I'd live in a puny little house sitting on ten million dollars?"
"No, of course not, but I hadn't imagined this!"
I had bought myself an old hunting lodge for a insanely rich family. For some reason they decided to sell it along with the incredibly large piece of land and mountain on which it was sitting. A beautiful mixture of logs and large stones, my house was a two story high wonderland for nature lovers. And even though I made my 6 year career in computers, I still love the outdoors! I think this house was what really convinced me to sell: it was 2 million dollars and even though I was worth more than that at the time, I couldn't pay such an amount without loosing most of my controlling shares.
Anyway, Dasha was giggling in delight now, walking around the mansion and enjoying the view. Oh yes, the last detail: the mansion was on a mountainside and there were more hiking and skiing trails that I could count. Even a small lake an hour or so away. The late summer day was still warm and the imminent sunset was showing all the sings of an incredible show, but Dasha was too tired to really appreciate it right now. I showed her the guest room, across the hall from mine, and she dropped on the bed, falling asleep instantly.
At first I thought that she was kidding, but after a minute or so of not responding to my questions, Dasha began to snore lightly. I laughed and decided to get her properly under the blankets. I pulled her running shoes off, then her socks and even pulled the zipper of her pants down until I realized what I was doing. This was not my adolescent sister anymore. She was now 21 years old and a stunning beauty to boot! I started to get off the bed and leave her be, then I shook my head: she was my sister damn it! And even though I had been single for the last year or so, there was no way I was going to see my very own little sister as a sexual object!
Yet as her long legs came into view, I was not so sure anymore. Firm flesh, unblemished skin, nice hips and a tiny little pair of panties. Hmmm. I decided to leave her tee shirt where it was and to simply pull the thin blanket over her. But she was lying *over* the blanket. I began turning her over, saying her name so that she would wake up for a second or two. But she didn't wake up and I had to turn her over. A thong. That tiny pair of panties were in fact a thong. Oh my God: I was staring at my sister's ass like a lewd old man! By an act of will, I turned her over once more and managed to free the blanket.
I sighed as I closed the door behind me, hoping that she wouldn't mind too much. I was not so sure that undressing her was a good idea anymore, but I was about to put her pants back on! I spent the evening in fear that she would wake up and scream, calling me a pervert from across the house...
She didn't: she slept all the way to 10 o'clock next morning. The first thing I heard from her room as I was cooking breakfast were those words:
"Wow David! This really smells wonderful!" she said in a slightly sleepy voice.
"Eggs and bacon ready for you Dash... You coming?"
"Yeah..." she said through a yawn, walking out of her room.
Naked. Walking out of her room naked. I was staring at her, the bowl of bacon hanging sideways in my hand. Even through a yawn and with her hair in completely wild disarray, Dasha was one of the most sexy things I had ever seen in my life. Her legs were just as long and scrumptious as they had looked yesterday night, her hips just as feminine, but her shaved pussy, slender waist, nicely rounded breasts were something else. She looked like a fantasy coming to life in front of my eyes. Large, probably C-cups breasts with proud pink nipples staring right at me, jiggling with each of her steps...
"What?" she said, looking up at me
"Yes... Oh, you mind?" She stopped walking, clearly uncomfortable.
"Well, of course!"
"Oh... OK, just give a minute then..."
She turned around and walked back to her room, and I forced myself not to look at her ass. Again. But there it was, in all it's tight, compact and perky glory! The bowl of bacon nearly fell to the floor, but I grasped it firmly and walked to the table. Sitting, while waiting for my sister to return, I tried my best to forget what I had just seen. It was hard. Very hard. Just as my cock was becoming actually. I had outgrown the instant erection nudity caused in young adolescent males, but I wasn't completely immuned either...
Dasha was slightly red faced when she returned, decently dressed, she but smiled at me.
"I'm sorry David... I didn't even thought that it could bother you..."
"I find that hard to believe..."
"No, I mean it." she smiled at me again. "I think you'd like in France my brother. Topless beaches everywhere, nudity among close friends not being a taboo at all... Listen I'm sorry, " she said, placing her hand on my arm. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."
"That's alright. I was... surprised I guess. I was actually worried that you might be angry with me for undressing you last night. "
"Really? Aw, that's sweet David..." she grinned at me. "But I'm not a little girl anymore: I don't mind if you look at me, especially if all you wanted was to make me more comfortable. So, what about that bacon?"
We ate together while bringing each other up to date on our lives. Apparently her life in France was not all that great. She hadn't manage to make any real friends, her bad French being a major obstacle. Her relationship with her husband had been steadily degrading for the past five or six months, and she had seen the inevitable break-up coming for the last two. Dasha hadn't known what to do, all alone in France with no one to talk to. She hadn't managed to find the courage to call even me, the closest person in her life since she decided to leave.
In the end she had had no choices, and I told her that I was really glad that she turned to me. She cried a few tears during breakfast, but as the crisis had been going on for two months, she was not completely in shambles. After eating more bacon than I thought she would, judging by her slim figure, Dasha got up and wanted to take in the sun on my deck.
"You'd think I'd spend most of my summer days naked under the sun in the south of France, but the weather is really weird. When you expect it to be dry it's humid and vice-versa, and at 4 o'clock in the afternoon, every afternoon, everything just becomes ridiculous."
"Go ahead... Nothing like the north-eastern states for a good tan!"
Dasha laughed at the joke, but added: "As weird as it sounds you're right David! For me at least... Now, you *would* mind if I tanned naked?" she asked, her head lowered, a little smile on her lips.
"Yes. Sorry if I'm not French enough for you, but I'm not comfortable looking at my sister naked."
"Ok then. I understand if you don't find me pretty..."
Oh damn it... She was trying to play with me. "Stop it you little pest!" We laughed at her old pet name. "If you're fishing for compliments, do it directly!"
She waited. "Well?"
"You serious Dasha? Oh, OK then. Now then. You really, really look good Dasha... Do you remember how I told you you'd become a beauty queen? Well, here you are."
"Thanks big brother..." she leaned over and kissed me. On the mouth. A short, dry kiss, but still...
As she walked back to her room, I assumed it was another one of those French customs... I went downstairs to clean up the mess there, in the room where all the useless junk I bought went. I admit, I spent my first millionaire year buying a truckload of worthless gadgets, toys and random things. After a while I wised up, but I still couldn't throw those things away.
When I walked back up an hour later, Dasha was still tanning on the deck, face down. She was covered with water, probably having taken a quick dip in the pool, and she was also wearing a bikini thong. And nothing else, of course. I sighed, looking at the beauty tanning on my deck. She had curves that could make a pope hard, and even though I was her brother I couldn't help enjoying the view.
Her head was turned the other way and I leaned against the window to take a good look. Long thin legs, but smooth and curved just right. She was thin, but her legs were just gorgeous, not too thin like so many models. But her ass was just unbelievable. Small and narrow like the rest of her body, but bulbous, more rounded than any ass had a right to be. It bulged up from her lean thighs and curved back down into the small of her back and to her elfin waist. Water had dribbled down from her ass and back to that little valley, some of it trapped in the chasm between her back muscles.
I could see the side of her left breast, all smooth and firm. Her long ginger hair all pushed to the side revealed her delicate shoulders and neck, and even a small tattoo I had never heard about! From afar it looked like a little character, but I couldn't be sure. It was placed right below her hair line, and may very well be the second person to ever see it!
But that ass of hers was just too much. I sat down on a chair and stared at it shamelessly, trembling when she moved, pushing it up for a few seconds. Computers had given me 10 million dollars (and counting, if we considered the interests), but it had also severely restricted my choice of girlfriends. Somehow I had never found an attractive girl that interested me romantically. And in any case most of those attractive girls wouldn't even give me the time of day. For a time Dasha's friends had been barely fair game, but none of them saw me as anything else than Dasha's big brother. I could have been the key to beer and a car, but it seemed it wasn't enough. Despite all this I'd had three steady girlfriends and a few adventures, but none of them had looked anything like Dasha was looking now. I think I'd give half my money to bury my face between those buttocks of hers!
But I shook my head, trying to clean it from that incestual bullshit. I got up, removed my tee-shirt and joined Dasha on the deck. Knowing I couldn't let her see my cock underneath my boxers, I ran straight for the pool and jumped. I'd really needed that cold water on my cock! I jumped up from the depths, shouting:
"Whew! That's colder than I thought!"
Dasha looked up, smiling. "You didn't have to jump into it silly!" she laughed, careful to keep her breasts decently hidden.
"I don't like waiting for my body to adjust slowly... I prefer the shock therapy than the slow torture!"
I made a few laps, happy to see that my body was cooling down. After a while I looked up and saw Dasha looking at me. She was sitting up, her bikini top where it belonged, looking at me.
"Why don't you stand up for me David?"
"I want to see what you look like after all those years..." she said, a mischievous gleam i her eyes.
I stood up, in the shallow end, and reddened when she whistled at me. "Oh please stop Dasha!"
"No, I'm serious... If you'd had a body like that four years ago, my friends would have fought each other to have you!"
"What's happening? Have you become the one unable to accept compliments now?"
I splashed her with water and she squealed. I did it a second time as she was getting up and saw that she was running towards me. "Now you're going to get it big brother!" And she jumped down in the water, nearly drowning me with the huge splash. I tried getting away, but I was already inordinately nervous: we were obviously going to have a little fight in the pool. I read too many erotic stories not to realize just how dangerous the situation was. But damn it, Dasha was my sister! What would it matter if we accidentally felt each other up? It's not like anything was going to happen! And Dasha seemed completely oblivious to the implications of such a fight, with nothing but boxers and a tiny bikini between us and full nudity.
Actually she clearly didn't care at all. As I was jumping away from her she grabbed my foot and pulled me back. When I turned around and roared, she laughed and squealed. I grabbed that tiny waist of hers and threw her bodily towards the deeper end of the pool. I jumped after her but before I could do anything she had grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me under. Blindly I grabbed her thighs and used her body to pull myself up. Then Dasha did something that would inextricably change the rest of this fight.
I was expecting a casual fight with equally casual slips of the hands, thighs, asses and breasts tentatively fair game. But when she grabbed my boxers and pulled them down to my knees, my eyes opened wide in surprise. As I scrambled to pull them back up, she pushed me down again, laughing loudly. I tried swimming back to the shallow end but she was right behind me, pulling me down and splashing me. I finally managed to get my knees on the bottom and pull my boxers off.
"Ah ah! Afraid to show your little behind David?" Dasha was laughing really hard.
"And you? Afraid to show yours?"
And I grabbed her under her shoulders and pulled her up until she stood in the shallow end. She was laughing so hard that she was barely able to resist. When I turned her around and looked at her ass, I found *myself* unable to resist: I spanked her tight little ass. And I immediately my mind screamed to itself: "WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST DO?"
Dasha turned around, dead serious, and screamed the same thing at me. My eyes were wide opened in surprise: I just couldn't believe myself. In front of me, Dasha frowned, rubbing her left buttock.
"What's wrong with you David? Too long without a girlfriend and you think that your sexy little sister won't mind if you paw her?"
"No! I never meant to..." I was stammering, completely flushed in shame... "Oh Dasha I'm so sorry! Please—"
But then I was cut off, finding myself flying backwards until I splashed in the deep end of the pool. When I surfaced Dasha was bent over in laughter, slapping her scrumptious thighs with her hands. "You fell for it big brother! I can't believe it!" Her eyes were closed, and she never saw me coming. I was still slightly in shock about the whole thing, but I knew I had to keep going regardless. I jumped towards her and grabbed her in my arms. Then, with my left hand completely opened on her ass, I pushed her as far as I could back towards the deep end.