Oh-oh, now everything is falling into place! The sniggering giggles and whispered comments with hands over mouths whenever I walk past groups of chicks in the schoolyard at break time. The stinging slap on the face and, "I never want to speak to you again you filthy pervert!" from Kushla, now my ex, steady girlfriend and wild, wild sex-partner for the last seven months. Geez! She has such a callipygean ass! I'm gonna miss hanging on to those perfect handfuls while she rides my dick to her orgasm on the back seat of her car! Then there's the cold stares from the female teachers and the averted eyes and curt responses from their male colleagues, and the sudden inexplicable dive in my grades. Guys I've hung out with for years have suddenly, "Got a lot on, maybe some other time." Cut from the basketball team!
The litany goes on. Now I know the reason why.
This afternoon when we get home from school I'm gonna kill you, Chloe! I'm gonna take you by the throat and squeeze and squeeze and keep on squeezing until your tongue sticks out all blue and you ain't breathing any more! Chloe, you are dead meat! You are deader than dead! I'm gonna cut you up into a zillion bits and spread your parts around every goddam dumpster in the city for the rats to feed on!
Would you friggin' believe it! This guy at school, someone I hardy know, comes up to me with a salacious leer and a bright gleam in his shifty eyes and asks, "Hey, Rickson! Is it really true that you screwed your sister? Was she good? Did she put up a fight? Or was it more a case of, 'Hey, c'mon, bro! Let's get into to some low-down and dirty brother-sister fucking!'"
I think I'm gonna need a lawyer before I kill you Chloe. I think I busted that guy's nose. I think it was when he grabbed hold of his crotch and shook it suggestively while he asked me for an introduction to you that I lost my cool. Shit, my hand is sore!
How could anything so innocent get so out of control? Geez! It happens every day, goddamn it! Brother walks into bathroom to find good-looking younger sister dressed in just a bra and panties bent over the washbasin cleaning her teeth. Cotton panties clinging enticingly to butt-cleft. Wow! Vigorous tooth brushing making bits of said sister jiggle in very interesting ways. Brother whistles under his breath and keeps on looking. C'mon admit it! Every guy does it some time in his life. If he doesn't have a sister it'll be a cousin, or his aunt or his mother, right?
Next second, there're sprays of toothpaste foam and screaming yells of, "Joshua! Get the hell out of here! Leave me alone you sicko! You shouldn't come in while I'm in the bathroom!" Then when brother is a bit slow to move, he finds himself ducking and weaving to avoid the missiles flying in his direction. Why should I have to be the one to replace Dad's new Mach3 razor for chrissakes? And what the hell is all the fuss about anyway? This is the chick that spent nearly all last summer dressed in suntan lotion and bits of string holding together three tiny lime green triangles of cloth, not one of them bigger than an eye patch! By comparison, wearing what she is now, she'd be accepted in a nunnery!
Of course it doesn't end there. Chloe throws on a robe straight away and goes to complain to Mom and Dad about me busting in on her and refusing to leave. I say that she is stretching the truth more than a little bit, but that doesn't cut any ice. End result is that I get grounded for the weekend, which of course leads to much angst from Kushla, but as far as I am concerned that is the end of it. 'I've served my time'… or so I thought!
I cop a detention for no other reason than I exist. No ordinary detention, like sitting in a classroom and doing extra math or English, but the bad guys' detention with all the 'hard' dudes, picking up the trash around the school grounds chain-gang style. So Chloe has been home over an hour when I get there and the little bitch has done nothing! By way of explanation: Mom and Dad work late and it's our job to prepare stuff so that Mom can start cooking dinner as soon as she gets home just after 6.30. And, like I say, Chloe has done sweet damn all.
I was madder than a mongoose when I arrived, but now I am definitely homicidal! I open Chloe's bedroom door with my shoulder without bothering with the handle; that hunk of wood out of the doorframe is going to take some explaining to Dad later! Her Ladyship is standing in the centre of her room, part way through changing out of her school uniform, admiring herself in her full-length mirror. The sight of my sister clad in just her bra, short tartan school skirt and 'liquorice legs', the black tights that form part of the senior girls' winter uniform at our school, stops me in my tracks for a second. But only for a second! Chloe is going pay for what she has done to me!
Chloe knows she is in deep shit and starts screaming and running. What follows in the next few seconds is pure mayhem. Imagine a Tom and Jerry cartoon and you have the picture! But this is serious stuff! When I catch her, my sister is going to get biggest hiding of her young life. Eventually I manage to grab a wrist and throw her onto her bed. In a flash I am sitting on her legs with my knees straddling her hips.
Chloe is still trying to fight me off when we hear a ripping noise as one of her bra straps gives way. She continues to defend herself, flailing at me with her hands and forearms, and her right breast pops out of its cup. We are instantly still. Chloe has big breasts for a girl of her age. I now learn that they are tipped with large pink-brown nipples. This one is engorged, swollen by the adrenaline pumping through her body from our fight. We are in a cone of silence. I gaze at her tit in rapt fascination. In turn Chloe stares at me with icy-blue 'Peta Wilson' eyes, proud of her body and daring me to say a single word. Her chest heaves with exertion. Something inside me snaps. Without completely realising what I am doing I reach out and slip the other bra strap from Chloe's shoulder.
"No Josh! Please don't!" My sister is definitely much less defiant now. I ignore her, grasping hold of the cotton material and pulling it from her other breast. I drag the bra down to her waist, where I can haul it around her body to release the clasp easily and cast the garment to one side. When I look back up to her face, Chloe has turned her head away and closed her eyes. Tears are leaking from beneath her tightly closed lids and she is muttering, "Oh! No! Please, Josh! No!"
I take a breast in each hand. They are so warm and smooth! So soft and yet so heavy! Chloe flinches when I run my thumbs over her hard points. They must be very sensitive! She begs me again to stop touching her. Her cheeks are streaked with tears.
"Why did you spread it around at school that I screwed you?" I ask her coldly.
"I didn't!" she protests.
"Then, how come everyone thinks I did? Even the teachers are giving me a hard time!" In my anger and frustration I grip her tender flesh roughly and Chloe winces with pain.
"I didn't mean it to happen that way!" Chloe is sobbing openly now. "I just told Mary-Anne and Patricia about you coming into the bathroom when I was cleaning my teeth!"
"If that was all you told them, how come Kushla calls me a 'dirty pervert' and dumps me, and the rest of the school treats me like I'm some kind of monster?"
"I'm sorry! I must have embellished the story a bit when I told them."
"What do you mean 'embellished'? What did you say to them?"
"I think I told them that you had an erection."
"You think you told them that I had an erection?"
Chloe nods miserably. Her eyes are still tightly shut, but she has stopped crying now.
"Mary-Anne and Patricia must have told somebody else, and added to it while they did so. Then the people they told must have done the same thing. You know how gossip changes stories! Next thing I know, teachers and people are asking me about you. And guys are giving me a hard time trying to get me to go out with them, 'cos they think I'll be an easy lay. I didn't know what to say! I didn't tell anyone that you had done it, but I didn't deny it either. I feel so ashamed!"
"So you damned well should be! You have no idea what I've been through the last few days!"
I am still stroking my sister's breasts; they feel so nice I just can't stop! And her aureoles are so completely swollen! Could it possibly be that what I am doing is turning her on? I didn't have a hard-on when I was looking at her the other night, but I sure as hell have one now; the front of my pants is sticking out as if I am hiding a tent pole in there!
"I'm sorry, Josh! I'll make it up to you. I'll do anything you want."
I know that Chloe means doing my share of cleaning the house and preparing food and stuff and I should have been satisfied with that. Instead, the desire for retribution is still burning fiercely in me. Deep down I know it is very wrong, but I want to humiliate her. And deep in my core, now that I have seen and touched her body, I crave for more!
I take hold of Chloe's hand and place it on my stiff shaft. She doesn't resist. She doesn't do anything. She just leaves her hand resting on the outside of my pants, unmoving. I hear her soft, protesting wail of, "No!" when I unzip and push her hand inside, and inside my boxers, but I remain undeterred. Chloe obediently takes hold of my hot bar of flesh but does nothing more. She is crying softly again. But, she doesn't take her hand away!
My hands leave her breasts and make their way down Chloe's body and over her soft rounded belly. Her school skirt is rucked up around her waist and I push it higher. There are more cries of "No!" and sobbing pleas for me to stop when I hook my fingers under the waistband of her tights and pull them down over her hips. She is wearing black bikini panties underneath. They are much, much briefer than the ones she was wearing the other evening. I pull them down at the front exposing the springy, sandy-gold hairs on her mound. Her thighs are pressed tight together, but I push my fingers in between them anyway, and into her slit. Geez! She is soaking!
It is only when I insert my finger into my sister's slippery little honey-pot that the reality of my disgraceful behaviour hits me. Suddenly, I have a huge block of ice in my gut. From self-righteous indignation at being wrongly accused of screwing my sister, I am well on the way to making it a fact! I feel sick. I want to throw up. I pull my hand from between Chloe's legs and climb off the bed. Not realising at first that I am releasing her, Chloe keeps a tight grip on my shaft, almost pulling my cock right out of my pants before she lets go. Not sure if I really am going to barf, I head for the bathroom. By the time I reach the doorway my erection is gone. I look back. Chloe, her pale bare flesh and dishevelled clothes in tumultuous disarray, has not moved.
'He in a few minutes ravished this fair creature, or at least would have ravished her, if she had not, by timely compliance, prevented him.' Henry Fielding, 1704-1754.
So what? I am going to major in English and Female Pussy at University next year!
I get into another fight. This time it's with a black dude called Willie Thompson. The guy comes up to me in the locker room after gym and asks if he can 'meet' my sister. Now it's a fallacy that all black guys are built bigger than we honkies are 'down there'. I've seen plenty that are much smaller than me, and I'm only what you'd call 'average'. But Thompson is one of the exceptions. This guy could be put out to stud at a horse farm and the mares would be ecstatic. For all I know, Chloe might relish the idea of being screwed by more than a foot of fat, black dick, but I make an executive decision that it isn't such a good idea. So I take a swing at him. Man, this guy is good! Right out of the Mike Tyson School of Boxing. Okay, I don't get my ear chewed, but he friggin' destroys me! Not a mark on my face, but I feel like every one of my ribs is broken.
At home that evening I am creaking around like a ninety-year-old. I say I think I am catching something and ask Mom if I can take a rain check on dinner. Instead I take a hot bath and head for bed. After an hour or so, a tap-tap-tapping on my door wakes me. It is Chloe with a mug of chicken soup; made with her own fair hand out of a can, but the thought is still there.
I sleep in just my boxers. When I sit up, Chloe gets all bug-eyed when she sees the black, blue and purple decorations on my chest and she won't let go until I tell her how I got them. She gets a strange shiny look about her while I am swearing her to secrecy, especially with Mom and Dad, then throws her arms around me and gives me a hug.
After I finally climb down from the ceiling and we mop up the spilled soup, Chloe thanks me for protecting her reputation and asks if she can stay with me for a while. I say, "Okay," automatically assuming that she means sat on the chair she dragged up beside my bed when she first came in. But no, my sister lifts the counterpane and slips into bed with me! But that's all right, she's fully dressed. We lie there for a while, not saying much but it feels kind of nice having her there. So I tell her so. Chloe gives out this sort of happy sigh and snuggles a little closer, but not that close that I have to be scraped off the ceiling again!
I fall asleep, but not for long! The bedside light is off. Fingers inexpertly undoing the fly buttons on my boxers and then creeping inside wake me. Surely this must be an erotic dream? If it is it is a very realistic one! A soft hand wraps around my rapidly hardening dick and starts stroking up and down. I groan with pleasure. There is a sudden movement beside me in the darkness, a shifting of weight. My boxers are completely undone and pulled off me. Soft tresses tumble across my belly. The hand returns to my shaft! Wet warmth enfolds the head of my cock! A tongue lapping! Gentle sucking! Tiny mewls of delight! I explode in a rush! Pumping! Spewing my thick creamy sperm into a wide, welcoming orifice! Fingers coddle my balls, coaxing them to release every drop of their load. Aftershocks caused by a still caressing tongue shoot up my spine. I relax, soften, and fill with warm gratitude. Soft sperm-odorous lips kiss my cheek. Suddenly I am alone in the bed. A dark shape moves to the door, stops, whispers, "Goodnight!" and disappears. I sleep.
I am still moving like a geriatric in the morning. Chloe has already left for school when I finally make it to the kitchen. Mom and Dad have gone to work. I am pleased to be alone in the house and don't have to answer any awkward questions. I take my time and get to school at about ten, braced for another day of ostracism. How wrong can I be! That morning, my sister Chloe stood up in front of the whole school at assembly and told them that the stories about me are all untrue, that I have been unfairly treated, that I have never, ever laid a hand on her and to please, please leave me alone.
My sister, my hero, avoids me all day. People leave me alone all right. They no longer vilify me; they just ignore me. Perhaps they are still sceptical of the truth. In any case, sensible logic says that it will not be an easy matter to turn their bad feelings about me around. Chloe waits for me at the school bus and sits with me instead of with her girlfriends like she usually does. We don't say very much, but occasionally her fingers find mine and squeeze them gently. This is not the right place to ask the question, but I still try, only to be hushed softly and told to, "Wait until a better time."
Eight days later I no longer tense in anticipation of a stabbing pain whenever I breathe deeply or cough. My chest is a spectacularly impressive array of yellow, green and purple fist marks. Ever since that ride home on the bus, things between Chloe and me have gone back to brother-sister normal. We still haven't talked properly. She has not visited my room again, nor I hers. No, I tell a lie. Dad made me repair the damage I did to her bedroom doorframe when I burst her door open. No More Nails is a very fine product!
Our Mom is the local marketing executive with a firm based in New York. Her company is throwing a big party for their staff following a successful campaign that has seen their main client's market share of widgets, or whatever it is they sell, rise by 17 percent. Spouses and partners are invited, but not children; even responsible, sophisticated older teenagers like Chloe and me. Mom and Dad flew up to New York late this afternoon and they will not be home until late on Sunday. I fully expected Chloe to announce beforehand that she would go and stay with one of her girl buddies for the two nights covering our parents' absence from home, but she didn't. This is a bit of a bummer, because Kushla has been making begging noises about us getting back together again.
Time alone with Chloe starts off great. In a fit of unusual generosity, Dad left out one of his bottles of Stag's Leap for us and we order in gourmet pizzas and hire a couple of videos: a Thud and Blunder for me and a Weepy for her. All in all it is a very warm and pleasant brother-sister evening with no dramas between us. She doesn't even make any smart remarks at my surreptitious rapid blinking when Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks finally get it together! And yes, after last week I am acutely physically aware of her. After all, under any circumstances your sister going down on you is a pretty unique anaesthetic! Most of the time she is sat in her chair across the room from me, which makes it easier to concentrate on the screen, but when she does move my eyes follow her. And she hasn't mentioned anything since that night, so I assume that what she did was purely for 'medical' reasons. It is pretty late when we finally head off to our beds.
Then, oh shit! Here we go again!
Wearing only my boxers, I walk into the bathroom to clean my teeth before getting into bed. Guess who has beaten me to it! And just like before she only has her underwear on. And just like before there are the interesting jiggling bits and that lovely, panty-clad ass. And just like before I whistle under my breath in admiration. Let's get things straight: Chloe is no skinny model-type chick, not like Kushla is. At the same time she is not a 'big' girl. She just curves in all the right places in larger proportions than you will ever see on a fashion house catwalk. In short, she is simply the kind of female that produces loud theatrical groans of lust whenever she walks past a construction site. Yeah, her brother feels like groaning sometimes, like I do right now, you would too!
Unlike the last time we were in this situation, Chloe doesn't go apeshit. In fact she calmly finishes brushing, then she rinses her mouth. But to my surprise she remains at the basin, looking at my reflection in the mirror.
"Josh…when I told Mary-Anne and Patricia that you had an erection the other night…I told them something else as well."
"Yes, I told them that you were dressed like you are now…which wasn't true, because you had all your clothes on."
"And I told them that you came up close behind me…"
I take a few paces towards her.
"And you put your hands on my hips…and started pushing my panties down…I could feel the heat of your erection through my panties even though you weren't actually touching me with it…"
"What did I do next?" My heart is thumping so hard I can hardly get the words out. I long to reach out and do what she has just described!
"You didn't get the chance to do anything because I turned around and slapped your face and ran out of the room. Trouble is, Mary-Anne and Patricia didn't believe me when I told them it stopped there."
"So they told everyone else what they believed must have happened next?"