Coming Home to Curvy Angie

Angie had just turned 18. It had been a year since I had seen her last, so when I came home early from dropping out of college, she was the first person I saw when I got into town. She was hanging outside the gas station drinking a slush.

She was with some girl I didn't recognize: A lanky chick with short hair. Angie was the opposite of her. Long brown hair, all curly, and very chubby. She had a pierced nose, which was new. So was the weight gain. I waved to them when I pulled up in my beater.

"Hey ladies," I said.

Angie looked clueless for a second. Then she recognized me.

"Oh, hey Ethan. I forgot it was today. How was your trip?"

She wasn't as pumped to see me as I expected. We didn't always get along growing up, but she seemed off. Last time I saw her she was sad to see me go. Now she seemed indifferent.

"Oh," she said. "This is Olive." The lanky girl waved, with a similar lack of enthusiasm.

"Hey," I said. "Angie, I'll see you at home?"

She just nodded, and I started to pull away. I overheard Olive ask her who I was as I started to drive off.

"That's just my brother," She said.

I watched her in the rearview as I left for home. Her dark and baggy clothes didn't hide her curves. I wasn't too surprised by how she filled out. Mom said she gamed a lot and didn't do much else.

I felt an odd sensation as I thought about my sister. I chalked it up to nostalgia. We did everything together growing up.

This is a small town. The one school has all grades and the grad classes are only a handful of people. I had one friend that moved away two years before I did the same. I spent those years hanging with Angie constantly.

We played video games, watched movies, and went swimming at the river. There wasn't much else to do in town.

I went to college for a trade, but I gave up after the first year. I was already piling on debt with loans, and I was too young to get roped into a career. That wasn't the story I told my folks; I told them I needed a year to clear my head and consider my options, whatever that meant.

The truth was I just hated school, and I missed being at home. It was two days of driving, and I never went home or had visitors for that year. I missed my stupid small town. I missed my little sister.

So when she seemed...above me, it kind of hurt.

I went home and was welcomed inside by Mom and Dad. They hadn't changed. Dad was gruff and Mom was flighty. They were warm but I could tell they would have been fine if I had taken another year before moving back home again.

The first surprise was that my old room was now my Mom's office. They made no efforts to revert this change. I walked in with my suitcases to find a desk and a filing cabinet.

Mom poked her head in.

"Oh Hun, I forgot to tell you. I need the space for my business. I told you I do accounting on the side now?"

"So," I said flatly, "Where's my new room?"

"Well, you and Angela can share. She says it's fine. I would move all this, but...to where? I need an office. I'm sorry, Ethan."

Hmm. So that's why Angie was weird. I was crowding her space. Maybe Mom thought if both her kids were cramped, living at home, at least one of them might move out again.

I dragged my stuff into my sister's room. She had changed some posters around and disposed of some dolls and toys she had last time I was in here. She had grown up a little.

There was a small air mattress in the corner. My new bed. It sat near Angie's, which had a metal bedframe. My old creaky bedframe, painted black to cover the old pale blue.

The room smelled perfumey and girly.

I didn't even bother taking any of my clothes out yet. I wasn't sure if I would be allowed closet space. I went to the living room and watched TV.

Angie came home an hour later, alone. She came right up beside me and stood next to me. She put her hand on my shoulder.

"Hey." She still seemed off. "Sorry I was a bitch."

I looked up at her. She smiled, but only a little.

"I bet I can guess why," I said, pointing at Mom's office.

"Oh right," she said. "That's not a big deal. Not to me. You're the one allotted a twin air mattress."

She smirked. I patted her hand and she pulled away. She joined me on the couch.

"So," I said, trying to identify the root of her mood, "How's things?"

"Well," she said, "For starters, school sucks."

"No argument there," I said grimly.

"Ha. Well you don't spend your lunches alone."

I did all the time while I was gone, but I didn't think it helped her venting. She was at least opening up a bit.

"Why alone? What about...uh...?"

"Olive? She works at the general store. Gradded last year. I just hang with her sometimes."

"So what's up with Pete and Eva?" They were Angie's friends last I knew.

"Eva moved. Pete's a dick."

"Oh?" Pete, you bastard. What did you do?

"He started hanging with Lonnie after Eva left. Now those guys are dicks to me all the time."

"How so?"

Sighing deeply, Angie must have changed her mind about sharing. "Never mind. I'm just not in the mood."

I let it go. We watched a movie, and had dinner.

Dinner with the four of us felt like old times, for better or worse. Mom talked too much, Dad not at all. Angie watched me silently as I did my best to placate Mom's endless chatter.

I got ready for bed.

I was glad to be in my sister's room. At least she didn't talk my face off these days. But I missed how close we were.

Angie walked in, after brushing her teeth, half forgetting I'd be sitting on my little bed. She sort of stared at me for a bit.

"So..." She seemed irritated. "I need to..."

I inferred the best I could. "I'll brush and do my thing, while you..." I figured she wanted to change, maybe switch to PJ's before bed. I was already cramping her style.

I left mid sentence.

I returned a few minutes later, knocking first.

"Yup," was all I got. She was half under her covers, wearing a different loose fitting shirt.

"Sorry again, Angie. I didn't expect Mom to force me in your space."

I laid in bed and took off my shirt. She reached the switch from her bed. "It's fine. I'm being grumpy but...you coming back? Staying in my room? It's the best thing that's happened in a while. I missed you."

Her words felt tender. I sat still in the dark.

"I'm sorry I never called. I-"

"I didn't call you either." She sounded sad.

"Yeah," I said, "But I'm older. I should have made the effort."

It was nice chatting in the pitch black room. Like a sleepover.

"So, I felt dumb before," she said quietly, "but I was saying about Pete and Lonnie."

"Oh, yeah." I was curious what was bothering her. Fortunately this setting seemed to encourage her normally talkative self to return.

"Well, obviously I got fat. They've just been dicks about it. Little nicknames. Stupid shit, not even clever."

"Assholes."

"Hmm. Yup. So, I feel like shit lately, my old best friend is a dick, and I'm stuck in this town until the start of summer. And I don't know where I'd even go after school. And I don't really want to been seen by anybody, and I'm gaining MORE weight cause I'm depressed. I'm just so...Aw, fuck, Ethan...I...fuck."

She sounded like she was close to tears. I felt so bad for her. I couldn't lay silently in the corner so I hopped up and sat on her bed. I reached over to hug her, and she pulled me close, sobbing into my bare chest.

I felt her resist crying at first, but she broke down eventually. I just rubbed her back, and let her unburden herself. He bare thigh rested on my knee, and I realized that she might only be in her underwear. I dismissed the thought best I could.

She stopped sobbing and began breathing normally. My chest was wet with her tears.

"Oh, Ethan. I'm a wreck. I'm sorry." She didn't let me go yet.

"Angie, it'll be fine. This town is too small, and you shouldn't feel bad about yourself. You gained weight, but...who cares. Stupid people will be ignorant, but you're not less appealing just because you have curves."

She didn't speak for a whole minute. Finally, she said, half choked, "What?"

I was worried I said something weird, or over the line. I should have just given a basic, normal response. I didn't know how to explain myself, so I threw it back to her.

"What-what?" I said. She still laid there, nearly spooning me with her arms around me.

"You said I'm not less hot even though I'm fat."

"I didn't say hot, or fat. I said-"

"Ethan, I'm your sister," she said softly.

My heart stopped for a second.

"So don't bullshit me," she continued. "I know I didn't get hot this year. I got fat. Don't treat me like Mom. I'm not stupid."

"Look..." I was on the spot. I had to convey my personal opinion that chubby girls could be a turn on. But I didn't want to be weird. I was already feeling strange about coming to console her.

"Angie, some guys think a girl like you is their perfect type." I wasn't sure why my words felt so...vulnerable.

She laughed. The kind of laugh you have after a big cry.

"Ethan, that's dumb." She said it like it was obvious. She sniffled a little.

"Okay, so...I like chubby women. So, trust me. People just like what they like."

She made a funny sound. Maybe a laugh, maybe not.

"You're not joking?" She put her chin on me. "If I wasn't your sister. You'd be turned on by me this way?"

Suddenly I realized a dark truth. I was turned on even though she was my sister. Not literally. I wasn't erect. But I did admire her weight gain, and just in general thought she was very cute.

I had gone too long without answering.

"Yes," I said quietly, unsure exactly what I was really admitting to.

"Huh," she said, putting her head back on my chest. Then she put her bare thigh higher on my leg. Her soft skin rested against my leg. I had my jeans on still.

I was a little shocked. For one, I never expected to have stayed here next to her this long. Also didn't think I'd confess my preference with her.

And what was going on with her thigh?

"Ethan," she said in a low voice, "Just pretend I'm not for a sec."

She grabbed my hand which rested on her shoulder, and moved it to her hip. She had no underwear on.

"I was lonely," she said, "When you were gone. Now you're back. Telling me I'm pretty, that you like me just how I am."

"Angie."

I didn't know what to do or say. This was getting away from me.

"Shh. So, I'm fucking sad for a year. And you come back, and make me feel so good. And I'm fucked up, now. Because ever since I grabbed on to you, I'm afraid. I'm afraid to let you go. But I'm afraid that if I hold on-"

"Angie, I'm back for a day," I said, trying to get a grip on reality by talking it out. "I get that you're having a tough time. But that's normal. And being lonely and sad? Super normal."

"I don't think I'm normal," she said, resting her hand on my groin. "I'm fucked up, cause to me, this seems right somehow."

I mindlessly started to stroke her bare ass for a second before minding my surroundings. Everything inside me was screaming to make a move, but my logical mind kept saying sister, sister, sister.

I could feel myself starting to swell. I thought I'd sit up, walk out the door. Cool our heads. Refresh. I swear I almost did.

But until she wanted me to leave, I felt like I couldn't. Not until she felt okay. But how far could I allow this?

She started rubbing her palm along the fly of my jeans. She breathed heavily on my chest. I was a prisoner to my inability to stop this.

"Ethan. Just pretend I'm some girl. Just anyone." She started to undo my fly. Fuck me.

"I- If you would feel...What...?"

She leaned up and kissed me quickly. Maybe to silence me.

It felt wrong. But...like getting more than you think you deserve. Like getting a birthday present that's ten grand over your usual limit.

"No talking," She said. "Just do what feels good."

She pulled my pants down and grabbed my slowly hardening member over my silky boxers.

This too felt strange, yet amazing. I started to feel around her bare skin. I reached back and squeezed a handful of her ass. Another wave of wrongness washed over me.

She kissed my neck. I got insanely hard very quickly, while I was in her hand. She moaned a little at that, and planted kisses on my chest.

She pushed me off her, and sat up. She tugged my jeans off, and my boxers too.

"Get in the middle." She said.

I did as told, unsure still of my complete lack of control of things escalating.

My mind raced, telling me how horribly I should feel that my little sister wasn't in her right mind, that I was enabling some bizarre disorder she was clearly--

I felt her straddle me, but she kept her distance from my hard-on. She sat on my abdomen instead, and my cock tapped the back of her ass.

Her heavy yet nubile body rested on me, and she was very wet. And shaved. She leaned in and kissed me again. She used her tongue. I did the same.

She sat up. "You're the cutest guy I know. I've always thought that. You said you liked my type of body. It broke me, broke my brain. It's not like no one's done this. People do this."

What people? She grabbed my hands. She put them under her shirt. My hands were pushed against her heavy breasts. She made me squeeze them. She whimpered.

What the fuck could I do now? It was like trying to stop a climax that was almost over.

My hands slipped from hers and I felt her where I wanted to. I squeezed her soft love handles. I traces my fingers over her soft belly, down her thick thighs.

I leaned forward, kissing her belly, upwards, to her nipples. I could barely see in the dark, even though my eyes had adjusted.

"So," my sister said, between heavy breaths, "I wasn't totally crazy. You do want me like I want you. It's not our fault."

I knew she was wrong. It was entirely her lust and my love and combinations of the two that led us here. She was grinding against me, rubbing her wet heat over my skin. She leaned back and I felt my rigid cock push into her cheeks a little.

She lifted up, and my shaft slapped against my stomach. And Angie came down upon it. She straddled it flat. She started grinding along it.

"So I don't want to pretend," she said, panting hard, "that you're someone else."

"Okay", I said, as I tensed under her gyrations, with my hands on her hips, fingers pushing into soft flesh. My cock sliding along the edge of her slick entrance.

"You are..." she said, "...my big brother. And... I want you inside me now."

I needed it too. I was madly driven to seeing this through. Fuck logic. Fuck tomorrow, or the minute after. Fuck a lifetime of regret. Fuck it.

"Angie," I said, realizing finally the only choice I had in this was when I entered her. "I need you. Let me fuck you. I...want my sister..." I lifted her hips and guided myself inside.

As she relaxed her weight upon me, I filled her up. She was wet, but tight. She cried out softly as she felt some minor pain alongside the pleasure.

"You're my..."

I finished her sentence. "Brother."

"First," she said softly.

"You're mine," I said truthfully.

"Ethan." She started riding me slowly at first, but eventually picked up the pace. She smelled sweet, and her aromas were turning me on to the max. Everything was overwhelming. Her tightness, wetness, the simple fact that I was fucking my...

"...My little sister," I said. She moaned softly. "I want to come in my little sister."

"I want you to come. Come, come, come." She was almost begging.

"I want you to come too," I said, teasing her nipple.

"Oh, baby, fuck...." She reached a hand down and started playing with her clit.

"I love you Angie."

"Fuck," she cried sharply, "Oh fuck me..."

Angie was riding me hard and fast, her curves jiggling and her pace reaching a frenzy. I was losing control of my power to resist. I was ten seconds away at best.

"You're so fucking beautiful...You're my sister and I still fucking had to have you," I whispered.

"Ethan...I fucking...love...you...oouuaahh-"

Angie whipped her head back and covered her mouth with her free hand. She frantically rubbed herself with the other as she came.

I came inside a woman for the first time, filling her tight pussy with everything I had. I pushed my face into her belly and stifled my moan against her soft flesh. My sister's flesh.

She fell forward on top of me, with my cock still inside her, throbbing in ecstasy.

"Wow..." Angie sighed, now fully out of breath. "Just...wow."

"I agree," I said. I was seeing stars. Head was swimming. Actions were catching up with me.

"Did we lose our...virginities...to each other?" She traced a finger along my chest.

"Um, yeah. Guess we did."

I twitched inside of her. She stayed on top of me.

"Ethan." She stopped stroking my skin.

"Yeah?" I was worried.

"So that was pretty...incestuous."

The word hit me like a poisoned dagger. It was a beautiful, horrible word.

"Yes," I said quietly. "We are indeed related. It's very...Game of Thrones."

"Is it fucked that I kinda don't care?" She said. "Like, we have this crazy-ass secret now. The bombshell to beat all others. But I don't hate myself."

I understood what she meant. I was happy it happened. I was just in shock.

"Yeah," I said, "I don't regret it."

"I mean I'll have to go grab a certain pill from a certain pharmacy. Marge probably won't say shit to Mom or Dad."

I thought of Angie having my child, just in theory. I certainly didn't want that.

"I'm sorry Angie, I wasn't thinking."

"Aw, no worries." She kissed me on the lips. "You're getting soft inside me."

I laughed quietly. "Yeah. It'll do that."

She sighed.

"Ethan, I'm scared again. If you leave now, you'll realize you did something awful. You'll probably leave again, for good. I know I'm just--"

I kissed her deeply. I ran my fingers through her hair.

"Angie, I love you. We just started something...fucking crazy. Maybe it's insane. But I love you. I guess I'm in love. And whatever that means, it means I'm not leaving without you ever again. Maybe we should leave together."

She nodded on my chest.

"We could start fresh, where no one knows us," she said. "We could pretend to be married. Just pretend."

"Angie," I said. "I love it. But I have a question."

"...Yeah?"

"Why didn't this bed squeak at all? This is my old squeaky bed."

"I just WD-40'd it when you were brushing your teeth."

"But...why?" I laughed.

"Never mind," she said, and got up to go the bathroom.

It felt like she was gone a while. I sat there alone, thinking about what we did, and how we felt the same about each other.

We might be fucked up. We might fuck this up. But maybe we could make it work.

She came back, and she fell asleep in my arms. I was dreaming soon after.

I woke up beside her the next morning.

I felt her soft skin, and listened to her breathing. And I just knew things would be okay.