Jen's Little Brother

"You're my sister," I objected.

"Sooo! You're all of a sudden too good to dance with your sister? Who else could teach you better than I could?"

The lessons commenced the next night. My sister was not only a good dancer she also proved to be a good teacher of the art.

And, once I'd finally achieved an acceptable level of skill in her eyes, which occurred just a week before she was to return to school, she got onto the next subject. Course #2 -- Kissing.

"Kissing? You're going to teach me to kiss? No way! Yuck!" Again I brought up the fact that she was my sister.

"I've been kissing you all my life," she answered.

"But--"

"We only have a week. We'll start tomorrow." We did. And we had two subsequent lessons over our last week together. My sister conducted her schooling in a dispassionate way. Instructions issued as orders. "No, you're doing it wrong, you're slobbering, do it like this," she'd drill as she put me through my paces.

It was weird doing it with her but exciting too. But somehow not sexual. I was concentrating way too hard and the concept of being interested in my sister in that sense was too far out there for me then.

But, as it turned out, Jen knew what she was talking about. Because, in a way incomprehensible to me, the high school sophomore girl's grapevine almost immediately got the word out that yours truly was an excellent dancer and kisser. And of course, to my great benefit, many of my classmates wanted to check to see if it was true. I reaped the benefits of Jen's instruction all that year.

And I delighted in letting my sister know it. 'sarah thinks I'm the world's best dancer' I'd text as I walked home from a party.

'who's sarah?' would immediately come back.

'i had to explain to her what French kissing is' I'd answer. A minute later, usually before I'd gotten in the front door my cell would ring.

"Well it's your fault, you taught me," I'd accuse before she could even get a word in. Then she'd grill me on every little thing I'd done that night.

However, in spite of my expertise in the dancing and kissing arts, I didn't get laid that year! Not even close!

****

The next summer Jen saw me naked for the first time. Okay it wasn't for the first time in my life! I mean she'd seen me when I'd been a baby and growing up a bit. But she'd never seen me naked since I'd gone through puberty. Not completely naked anyway. Sure she'd seen me in my underwear. Heck I'd seen her just in her bra and panties hundreds of times over the years. We did share a bathroom!

Did I show her on purpose or did it simply happen by accident? Honestly, looking back now, I have to admit that it was an unconsciously 'planned' accident (if such a thing is possible). And it really had nothing to do with her or any sexual desire I had for her. I still hadn't made that jump.

It had much more to do with being a sixteen year old boy. Of being horny all the time. Of being frustrated. Of wanting to announce my new maturity, my new readiness to the female world. Jen just happened to be handy. I'd just gotten out of the shower and was standing at the sink shaving (although the peach fuzz on my cheeks really didn't justify the daily lathering I gave them). I hadn't wrapped the towel around me. I'd also left the bathroom door halfway open. I'd been doing the same thing for four mornings before Jen finally happened by.

She actually giggled when she saw me. But she also took her time checking me out before she turned away.

Twenty minutes later as the two of us were sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast she said out of the blue, "You know I used to shave my boyfriend sometimes last year."

"At school? Which boyfriend? You never said anything about shaving anybody," I accused.

"Didn't I?" Jen asked. "He said I was pretty good at it. Maybe I should shave you some day. But I guess I'll have to wait a few years before you can grow a beard," she added teasingly as she ran her palm across my cheek.

"Was this guy a Greek too?" I demanded.

But two days later, in exchange for a promised two hair combings by me, she agreed to give me a professional 'Jennie shave'. Which was kinda neat. It was the first time anyone else had ever shaved me. She took her time. And when she'd finished she'd dabbed some after-shave on my cheeks.

"What's that?" I squealed as I felt the tingling coolness penetrate my skin.

"Don't you ever use after-shave?" she'd demanded, her astonishment at my unsuaveness clear in her voice.

And then, Jen, before she went back to College that fall, flashed me. Just once. And she'd never admit now to anyone that she'd done it on purpose but I know she did. It was tit for tat so to speak. She'd seen me. I was going to see her. Sis had a good body. That was the first time that the thought had occurred to me. Mind you it was the growth of hair on her pubic mound that really caught my eye. In fact, and this is maybe hard to believe, the thought that occurred to me as my eyes took in her body had nothing to do with sex. Instead, a vision of Jen lying on her back on the bed popped into my mind. She was using the famous birthday brush. Administering one hundred strokes to the unruly nest of thick hair that was growing luxuriously between her legs.

It was a vision that haunted me for months. And even today it periodically appears in my brain. I'm pretty sure it always will.

****

When I lost my virginity a week after my seventeenth birthday, on Halloween of all nights, I immediately called my sister. We talked for like at least two hours. She talked me down from the greatest high of my life.

Jen brought a guy named Colin home for the first time that Christmas. Not for Christmas Day itself, he spent that with his family (they lived in our town too), but the two of them spent a lot of time together around our house over the following week. Over the previous months I'd heard a lot about him from Jen in our nightly phone calls and almost continuous texting but I'd never met him in person.

It was the first time I'd ever met a man who'd slept with my sister! And yes, Jen had given me more than one description of their sexual encounters. Frank, detailed descriptions that invariably had left me troubled and unhappy.

"Do you like him?" she asked one night a couple of days before she was due to go back to school. I was combing her hair. I was using the new hair brush I'd given her that Christmas. The third one I'd given her over the years I'd christened it Jen3. Jen2 had been moved to backup status. The original, Jen1, was kept in the bottom of her purse for on the go emergencies.

"Colin?" It was the first time she'd ever asked my opinion of one of her beaus. "He seems okay," I answered cautiously.

"Just okay?"

Actually Colin was a pretty good guy. He was one of those friendly guys everyone gets along with. The type of male every mother wishes for her daughter. Polite, attractive without being dangerous looking, well educated but modest, a smile always on his lips, a head on his shoulders but never arrogant... an all round nice guy.

He was a year older than Jen and had graduated the previous Spring but then he had gone back to school the following Fall for an accelerated eighteen month M.B.A. program. His old man was a successful financial planner with his own firm and Colin had grown up in a much wealthier section of town than we had.

"So what, you're thinking of marrying him?" I asked as I continued to comb her hair.

"I might," she answered, watching me carefully in the mirror as she spoke.

My hand holding the comb stopped in mid stroke. "I thought you were going to wait for me," I said in what I'd intended to be a teasing tone.

"A young pup like you!" A tease. But there was a catch in her voice too. "Anyway he hasn't asked me yet."

"He'd be a fool not to," I answered.

"If he ever does I'll tell him he has to get your permission first."

"Mine?"

"What, do you think I'm going to tell him to ask dad?" Scornfully asked. Jen still had some pretty hard feelings towards dad. They'd started to tentatively reach out to each other over the previous couple of years but they still had a way to go when we talked that day. I'd been working as a sorta middleman as they'd attempted a rapprochement. "And who do you think is going to be escorting me down the aisle the day I decide to get married?"

"Me?" I couldn't keep the smile off my lips.

"Duh!"

"I thought I'd be roped in to being your hairdresser," I said with a grin.

"Well of course you will. But then you'll put on a monkey suit and walk me down the aisle."

"Maybe it should be me waiting at the altar."

"You're too good a hairdresser to marry."

"This sounds serious."

Colin was the perfect potential husband. I think even I recognized that from the very start. He'd love his wife. Be devoted to her even as he provided more than amply for her. He'd be a more than adequate lover. He'd be a great father.

His only failing I thought was that he wouldn't be me.

Spring Break 2010

Colin Andrew Thorpe called me up out of the blue on the Tuesday of his Spring Break week a couple of months later. Both he and Jen had driven back home from school on the previous Saturday.

Colin invited me out to dinner.

"With Jen?" I asked.

"Naw, let's just make it a boys night out," he answered casually. I knew immediately what really was going on. I had to fight the impulse to refuse.

I didn't make it too easy on him. Heck, I had to fulfill my assumed fatherly duties didn't I?

****

"So?" I looked up to see Jen standing in my doorway.

"It was okay ... we had a couple of beers," I said casually. I figured I'd better make her work for it.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Jiiiimmy!"

"Well I did tell him the story of what I did to that Darren guy."

"You did?"

"And I told him if he ever hurt you that I'd have to do the same to him." My sister hurtled herself into my arms.

We talked for hours that night. And on both our parts there was unmistakable happiness. But also sadness. This was a forever decision. And although she'd been dating Colin for close to a year it had never interfered with our intimacy.

But we both knew, or feared at least, that marriage would strike an irrevocable blow to what we'd had together for over seventeen years. Could a woman share all her secrets with two men I wondered to myself as I lay in bed alone, tossing and turning, all through the night.

But once the decision had been made and the engagement announced the approaching marriage took on a life of its own. The planning started immediately. The marriage date was set for the twenty-seventh of December. Just nine months off. Jen was set to graduate that May but Colin's program ran right through the summer and wasn't to finish until mid December, just weeks before the wedding.

They decided, after consultation with both families, that they'd live together once sis graduated and her roommates had left school and then, once Colin had graduated in December they were going to return home to live. Then after their honeymoon Colin was going to go to work for a local bank, the bank he'd worked at over the previous two summers.

Long term, after maybe getting five years experience at the bank, his plan was to go to work for his father and then eventuality, in the fullness of time, take over for him.

Everything was planned. My whole sister's effing life had been decided. They'd even decided on how many children they were going to have -- three -- and what area of town they were going to live in. In fact, in mid August, during one of their many trips back home from school that summer, Colin and Jen put an offer down on a house. An offer financed by Colin's parents and quickly accepted by the home seller.

And here I was still months away from my eighteenth birthday and my sister had her whole life planned! Bemused by the whole thing at first over time I'd slowly drifted into a state of almost constant inner turmoil. Oh, I'd gone about my daily life. In fact no one ever mentioned seeing any change in me over those days and months. I continued to see my girlfriend. I went to school. I texted my sister. But I became increasingly distracted as the big day inexorably approached.

And then on my eighteenth birthday realization came. Of the impossibility of life without Jen. I was less than two months away from walking her down the aisle on my arm. To be delivered by me to another man.

The catalyst was her birthday call. It was the twentieth of October. She apologized to me for not being there. "I'll be home on Halloween. I'm going to give you the best present you've ever received," she promised.

And it was at that exact second that I realized for the first time what I really wanted from my sister. A lifetime of sibling love crystallized into a need so powerful and overwhelming, so obviously right, that any incestuous taboos I might have harbored were ruthlessly swept away by the tsunami that engulfed me.

I wanted to make love with my sister! And I immediately realized that she also, somewhere in her unconscious brain, wanted the same thing.

And I'd recognized immediately that it would have to be done before Jen married. That there'd be almost insurmountable obstacles to my making love to her after she'd married. I had to get my dibs in first! I started planning that very night. It was my eighteenth birthday. And I celebrated it by stroking my cock to ejaculation. I fucked my hand that night but my brain was making love to my sister.

Halloween 2010

I was ready when she arrived home from school on the afternoon of Saturday the 29th of October. She'd arrived with a van full of stuff that she was bringing back from her apartment at school. Colin, who still had various projects to finish up for his degree, had loaded the van but hadn't come home with her. He was going to study that weekend. She was planning to spend the three days she was going to be home organizing things for their new house and addressing various wedding details.

I had other plans for her!

****

"What's that?" she asked as she watched me deposit the box containing the costume on her bed.

"Your Halloween costume my lady," I answered with a sweeping bow. Jen had just got home thirty minutes earlier.

"I'm not going anywhere for Halloween, I've got work to do," she was smiling.

"And who did you think was accompanying me this evening?" I asked.

"Your latest? I can't remember, is it Carol or Stephanie these days? Or both?"

"Do you believe for one second that I am going to leave my old maid sister alone on Halloween? That I would think only of myself?"

"Old maid?"

"Or that I would choose a night of wild, unrestrained sex with the extraordinarily highly sexed Stephanie Wilson ahead of having dinner with you?"

"Stephanie Wilson is highly sexed?"

"I'm taking you out for an evening of dining and dancing. And of course we'll be costumed."

"We will? And where dear brother will we be doing this dancing?" she asked as she lifted the top of the box off. I watched her eyes open in surprise when the contents came into view.

"Oh no you don't, I'm not wearing this," she promised as she held the thin silk, red, slip-like dress up in front of her body and watched herself in the mirror.

"It'll go perfectly with the underwear," I answered.

"Underwear?" Jen asked, then watched as I lifted item after item from the box. The garter belt came first.

"You're crazy!" Jen said as I handed it to her. "I've never worn one of these."

"It's to hold up these," I said as I held up the red mesh stockings and then draped them over her arm.

"Oh myyyy gawd!"

"And here's your spiked tail and horns," I added as I passed her the items.

"And I'm going as?"

"You my dear Jennifer are going as a very bad little girl," I said with a leer.

"You're crazy. And what will my little brother go as?" I lifted the bra and panties from the box. "Where did you get those?" she demanded as I slid the lacy cloth across my palm.

"A special order from Victoria's Secret," I said as I held the bra up towards her breasts. It was red, gossamer thin, a lace, balconet demi bra.

"You're nuts," Jen said with a smile even as she checked the tag. "How'd you know my size anyway?"

Of course she eventually agreed to go out with me. How could she possibly have refused after all my effort? Besides, Jen had always loved going out on Halloween.

*****

We'd both showered and I'd changed into my costume, a Keystone Kop outfit, before I'd wandered back to her bedroom thirty minutes later. Jen was standing in front of her mirror, staring dubiously at her reflection. She'd put on the bra and panties and the garter belt and stockings. She hadn't pulled the slinky dress over her undergarments.

I whistled. Jen looked very, very, very good! Her breasts were spilling from the wispy thin bra that was trying to restrain them. The dark triangle of her pubic hair couldn't be hidden by the lace of her panties.

"Don't look," she ordered.

"You look pretty good for an older woman," I said as I ignored her instructions. She'd never been shy in front of me. I'd seen her in her underwear hundreds of times over the years. But this was special and we both knew it.

"Well don't just stand there, make yourself useful," she said as she struggled to slip the dress over her head. After straightening it on her shoulders, I zipped her up. Then we both stared at the sexy vision staring back at us from the mirror. Then I peered down into the deep valley the décolleté cut of the dress provided.

"Perv," she accused as she caught me at it.

"Satan's sexy little servant," I cooed into her ear.

"I can't wear this. What if somebody recognizes me?" she asked.

I grabbed the mask from her bed, a red feathered Mardi Gras mask that covered the top half of her face, and slipped it on her.

"You're beautiful," I said as I fluffed up her hair with my hands. Then I attached her devilish horns. Then I took my time in attaching her tail.

"Watch what you touch," she instructed as my palm slid over her left buttock. But there was more invitation than rebuke in her voice. Jen was excited! I gave her a quick slap on her butt. Then, before we departed, I spent five minutes combing her hair.

****

Looking back a year later I can tell you that I'm pretty sure that Jen knew what was going to happen between us that night even before we'd left the restaurant/bar we'd spent the evening partying at. There had been an intimacy in our words and in our continual touching that eclipsed anything we'd ever done before. She looked sexy that night and she knew it. And she knew I was reacting to her sexiness. And she welcomed it.

And when, at just after eleven that night, when the DJ played the first really slow, really sexy song of the evening, it took no urging at all on my part to get her up on the dance floor and melt into my arms. To press her body into mine. Nor did Jen make any move to reject me when she felt my erection rise demandingly up against her stomach.

We finally left the club arm in arm. Our laughing, happy words echoed across the parking lot as we sought our car. She snuggled up against me as I turned the key to start it. I put one arm around her shoulder. "You're a good dancer," she whispered in my ear as I turned the key.

"My big sister, she's a bit weird, taught me years ago," I answered as I moved my hand caressingly through her hair.

"Your sister? You danced with your sister?" Jen asked back as she nestled even closer to me.

"No one else would dance with the poor girl ... she was sorta skinny ... hardly any tits at all." Jen slapped my leg as a giggle escaped her lips. "Not like you," I added as I leered down at Jen's breasts.

"And did her little brother push his penis into his big sister during those lessons? Like a certain someone did to me tonight." Her hand, still on my thigh and suddenly moving in a nervous, jerky manner, slowly started to move upward. But she got it back under control just before it encountered the thing that had been poking her on the dance floor.