Joanie and Me

I knocked off early the Wednesday before Thanksgiving so we could bake pies that night. I was unaware that she'd baked a cherry pie for me earlier that day. When I got home a little after two she insisted I have a slice as a snack. We had so much fun doing that night what we'd done so many years ago when I was a kid. One of the last activities the two of us shared before she departed those many years ago was making pies for Thanksgiving. My normal wake up time is six o'clock give or take ten minutes, the next morning I was pleasantly surprised to see the kitchen lights on as I walked down the hall.

Joanie was busy stuffing the small bird and getting other things ready for our Thanksgiving dinner. She was in her nightie which revealed nothing, but there was no disguising the gentle bounce and sway of her breasts as she moved about the kitchen. We made an executive decision to make pumpkin pie and coffee our official turkey day breakfast. With breakfast done she started to stand but slipped on something which swiftly brought her backside onto the chair, the impact caused her breasts to bounce and wiggle. Looking at me she smiled.

"I knew I should have put a bra on. Well, you got your eyeful for the day, I'm gonna shower while you do chores."

I was back inside by ten, showered quick and put on comfy lounge around the house clothes, better known as loose jeans and an old ratty sweatshirt. Outside it was cool but not cold. Joanie wanted to sit on the porch for a bit while the sun was still on that side of the house. We donned light fall jackets and adjourned to the porch with another cup of coffee. While we gently rocked back and forth on the porch swing she slipped her arm through mine and snuggled tight.

"Do you think we'll have snow for Christmas? I haven't seen a white Christmas since I left. I thought we'd have had snow by now."

I laughed, "It'll be here soon enough, which reminds me I should get the plow on dads' old truck. It didn't make sense to sell it when it was already set up with a plow and is only eleven years old. Remember when you would let me run the plow controls when you used his Jeep to clear the driveway? Man, I felt like hot stuff."

She squeezed my arm tighter, "Oh gosh. I'd forgotten all about that. Yes, that was fun. Say, if we do get snow can we make a snowman like when you were a little boy? I did most of the work while you found stones for the eyes and mouth, then you broke some sticks off mom's new apple tree for the arms. Boy was she mad."

As the sun began shifting away from the porch it was time to give the turkey one last basting. We shivered as we walked in, the wood furnace was doing a fine job keeping the house warm. Forty minutes later with the frozen sweetcorn from last summer's crop heated, the mashed potatoes and yams ready, I sliced the bird for consumption. We ate more than we should have, or as Joanie stated, we ate until it was time to nap. Growing up I had been taught to make my bed daily, that of course carried over into the military.

It was no different that day, I laid down for a nap in my clothes on top of the quilt. It seemed I'd no more than begun to settle when I felt the bed move. Joanie snuggled in behind me like a spoon, not a word was said, we drifted off into never-never land just like years ago when she would let me sleep with her during storms. With our half hour nap out of the way we decided to go and put the plow on the truck, it was something to do other than watch a boring football game. While in the machine shed she climbed onto the old Farmall M, looking my way she yelled.

"Does it still run?"

I shouted back, "Key should be in the ignition. Do you remember how to start it?"

Thirty seconds later I heard the engine turning over. When it fired up she let out a squeal, I hadn't seen her that excited since she'd arrived. With her lower bridge complete along with most of the crowns on the uppers her smile was once again inviting. A lot of the old Farmall M's don't have fenders, ours did. We spent the next two hours riding around the farm with her driving and me with my butt on a fender. Both mom and dad's urns are in a sealed concrete box on the top of a ridge above the house. It was too steep to drive, so we walked to where they were interred. Sitting in the late afternoon sunlight a coolness began to settle in.

She looked at me, "A storm's moving in isn't it? I can feel it in the air."

"It is sis, we should head back to the house before dark. These cow paths can be tricky without daylight."

Over the next four weeks I watched my previously run down, tired and worn-out sister transform into the picture of beauty she was when I'd last seen her as a boy. One of our most exciting times was when we went to cut the Christmas tree at the far end of some pastureland. It no longer belonged to us, but Mrs. Brixton saw no reason for us not to cut a tree, after all, we'd planted that ten-acre plot years before.

Watching her decorate the tree was like watching mother, it was also when I began to notice how lovely I found her to be. I hadn't been this comfortable with a woman since... well, forever. And as much as I kept telling myself she was my sister, she didn't feel like it to me, she was an attractive woman in every sense of the word. Christmas day we slept in until just after seven. I gave her a gift certificate for $100 at a new mall store in the city called Victoria Secret. I had seen that place in other cities, but nowhere near us. With it only being fifty minutes away she could go there instead of having to order.

For me she got what every farm boy who lives up north needs, Wells/Lamont yellow fuzzy chore gloves. Those and underwear. When I looked at her with a questioning face she laughed.

"Mom got you underwear every year, thought I'd carry on the tradition. Your real present is still under the tree, it's a shirt and tie. You need something more than work clothes."

With a saucy look she continued, "By the way little brother, those gloves make great marital aids before they're washed or used. Just imagine having your partner rub all over your body with that soft fuzzy material."

I laughed as though it were a joke, but I found myself wondering how she knew that. The next week we moved the office from the building at Mrs. Reynolds to the den, it took us a day to remove years of junk that should have been tossed a long time ago. All stuff dad was 'gonna get to one of these days.' Within a week she had the office in tip top shape, her teeth were nearly finished, her attire started to become more attractive and the sense of humor I'd seen in her as a boy seemed to be returning.

Though I continually told myself that she was my sister and nothing more, I found that I was beginning to like her as more than a sibling. More than once I had stopped back at the house for something to find her still in night clothes while answering the phone or doing office work. That in and of itself didn't bother me, it was the flash of panties as she swiveled in the chair, or the jiggle of her breasts as she wrote that made it difficult to not see her as a woman. She was quickly becoming more than just my sister.

We'd been in the same house almost three months, in that time she'd become comfortable enough that from time to time she would flit into the kitchen for this or that in just a short tee and panties. The tee usually covered the bottom, but just barely. If she bent over quickly I'd get a flash of panty covered ass and vulva pressed tightly between her thighs, at which time she would spin, with a grin on her face she would shake her finger at me saying, "naughty, naughty."

We hadn't done anything for New Years Eve, stayed home and watched a movie, then crashed before midnight. On Thursday of that week she told me she had a date Friday night. When she came down the stairs dressed to go out with some guy from the city called Bruno, I suddenly realized what a magnificent specimen of femininity my sister had transitioned into. It was also the first time I felt jealous that it wasn't me who was taking her out. I watched her parade down the steps in a red skirt ending at the knee, nylons, a dark blue blouse and a pair of two-inch red heels.

Her hair was perfect, her makeup perfect, she looked ever so inviting. I let my mind wander, she had recently turned 36 and was still a sight to behold. I knew that she wore a 36C bra and I was sure she had on the red nylon bikini panties I had picked out months prior. I wanted to chastise myself but instead stood looking dumbfounded as she reached the bottom step. I couldn't take my eyes off her, she blushed and asked why I was staring.

"Because you're beautiful. I can't believe you're the same person who walked from the barn to the porch months ago. You're gorgeous sis."

Bruno the douchebag pulled up to the house and had the temerity to honk the horn. It set me on edge, I was headed to the door when she intercepted.

"It's okay Ron. It's okay. Nothing to get upset about."

"Bullshit. Dad would never have stood for some guy honking his horn for you to come outside. He needs an ass kicking."

"Let it be Ronnie, that's how some guys are. I'll let him know he's to come to the door from here on."

I wanted to throttle the guy but acquiesced to Joanie's wishes. As she hugged me goodbye I said to her.

"This guy's a douche, don't go out with him. Please. He's gonna hurt you, I just know it."

She pushed back, "I can handle myself."

I snapped back, "Right, look where that got you last time. Two years in jail. Don't go out with him Joanie."

She kissed my cheek and told me not to wait up. I watched as she drove away with dipshit in his souped up Mustang thinking to myself, "she never learns". I wondered where she had met the guy, she hadn't been to the city without me since she arrived. Then the light went on, internet. We had one laptop that wasn't for business and we both used it. There was no mystery getting into her dating app. Sure as shit, there he was, all swagger and pomposity. I had never seen a communique that had so many sentences starting with "I", what an arrogant ass.

I watched TV until eleven and went to bed, getting up to get a drink at just after two I peeked in her room to find no Joanie. My heart sank, surely she wasn't falling for this guy and ended up in bed with him. Then again, all the signs pointed in that direction. It was shortly after four when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Ron, Ron wake up. Do you have a twenty?"

I was half awake and confused, "A twenty? What do you need a twenty for? Yes, there's cash in my underwear drawer toward the back."

By the time she came back in I was awake sitting on the couch. She looked worn out, defeated, her makeup was streaked from tears running down her face. Slumping next to me she buried her face in my chest and sobbed. Crying women always confuse me, I never know what to do, but I remembered watching my dad hold mom and let her cry it out. Which is what I did, I simply held her to my chest and let her cry. Looking at her dress I could see it was crumpled, one of the nylons was ripped and it seemed like one breast was hanging a bit lower than the other.

Sitting up she sniffled, "I need to pee."

Five minutes later she was back in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. She'd removed the bra and was carrying it in her hand, one strap broken dangling from her fingers. Tossing the bra in the trash she sat next to me, leaning against my chest, her head on my shoulder.

"I needed the twenty to cover the cab, I only had thirty cash and it came to over forty. I should have listened to you. I'm so sorry."

Trying to make light of the moment I uttered, "Didn't go to well I take it."

She backed away and slugged my arm, "No shit Dick Tracy. The guys a fuckin loser. Dinner was nice, time in the lounge waiting for the band was pleasant, once the music began and we started to dance it went to hell in a hurry. He wanted to grind and push himself into me, at one point he was pulling the back of my skirt up. I pushed him back, which caused him to grab my breasts and squeeze, it hurt enough that I slapped him and told him I wanted to go home."

I was confused, "Yeah, but you came home in a taxi?"

"While we were still in the parking lot the scuz was all over me, he ripped my nylons and broke the strap on my bra trying to rip my blouse off. I was screaming and hitting and trying to bite him when the door suddenly flew open. It was a girl with a huge guy. She pointed at him and said "he's the one", I took advantage and ran like hell as the big guy hauled his ass from the car, then proceeded to pound the shit out of him."

Joanie took a deep breath and exhaled, "You were right. He's a douche bag. Why can't I find a guy that's as sweet as you Ron? Why do I continue to go out with losers?"

I said no more as I cradled her in my arms where we obviously fell asleep, because when I woke we were still on the couch with her snuggled into my arms. She began to stir about the same time I did, in a cooing voice she spoke softly.

"Mmm, I could get used to this. I love how you make me feel so safe and wanted."

Looking at one another we said nothing, I wanted to kiss her, I believe she wanted to kiss me, instead we stiffened and moved a few inches apart. Talk about awkward, she was the first to speak.

"I'll get breakfast started, maybe we should grocery shop early today. You know, get it out of the way. What do you think?"

When she stood, I saw her quickly glance at the slight bulge in my sweatpants. I was well on my way to a full-blown raging hardon, thankfully I wasn't in gym shorts or something similar. Her cheeks became red, she looked flustered as she quickly walked away. Watching her cook as I set the table I couldn't help but notice the way her breasts wiggled and swayed as she moved. Her breasts were firm and impressive, the nipples seemed to be pressed against the fabric all the time, like two little bullets pointed at me. With her teeth fixed and a few pounds in the right places she was looking very enticing. She'd been so skinny and gaunt looking when she had first arrived.

Shopping went well, it was a time to joke and ease some of the tension between us after waking on the couch. With the perishables in coolers we walked to the bank and then to Pats meat market. Pat was behind the counter and made a fuss about seeing me with a girl.

"I haven't seen you out with a girl in a coons age, where ya been hidin her? You're lookin mighty fine miss."

We bought some summer sausage, ring baloney, brats and polish sausage. I was holding the bag as we walked, suddenly there was no Joanie. Turning I saw her standing in front of what was once the Sears catalog outlet building. After that closed it had been a Ben Franklin for a few years, from what I'd heard it had been empty over five years. She had her hands up to the glass with her face cradled between them peering inside. When she realized I was next to her she hooked an arm through mine while gazing up at me.

With a sly smile she asked, "You thinkin what I'm thinkin?"

I shrugged, "That depends. What are you thinking?"

Moving to my side she said, "Let's get this stuff to the car, we can talk on the way. Isn't that one of Mrs. Reynolds properties?"

"Hmm, I think so. Why?"

She was looking down as we walked, then looking at both sides of the street. She stopped abruptly and turned me to her.

"Because that would be the perfect place to move the business. It's big enough we can have an office in the front and with the alley behind we can take deliveries in back. It's deep enough to build a wall blocking off the back, you can keep inventory back there instead of outside like you're doing now. Whatta you think?"

Well, I sure didn't see that one coming. I started moving again, Joanie was still on my arm when Mr. Falks, my old English teacher, happened to be coming the other way. When I noticed him slow down I stopped.

"Hi Ron. Who's your girl? She a pretty one. Reason I stopped is the insurance company says I have to upgrade from the old fuse box to a breaker panel. Is that something you can do relatively soon?"

"Sure, I can get to it in the next few weeks. I'll look at the schedule and have Joanie set up a date."

He looked at sis, "Joan, or Joanie?"

"It's Joan." She said. "He's the only one who calls me Joanie."

He smirked, "A pet name, and you're his girl? I have to say, it's about time."

Joanie hugged my arm tight, "Yup, I'm his number one girl, nice to have met you Mr. Falks, I'll be in contact."

We said nothing more the last few blocks to the car, riding down main street I looked at her.

"You're my number one girl? Really? What's he gonna say when he finds out you're my sister?"

We were at the edge of town almost to the high school when she told me to pull into the school lot and stop the car. Turning in the seat she had a serious look on her face.

"Ronnie, most of these people don't know me. I left before a lot of them moved here. They don't have a clue who I am, and we aren't going to tell them either. Those who know me also know I'm living with you at the farm. If guys think I'm with you maybe the nasty ones won't bother me. After all, we are living in the same house, I can only imagine what people who don't know me are saying. The young buck with the older woman, he must be her boy toy."

We both burst out in laughter at that comment. She patted my hand and gave me a sultry look, "Don't worry, I won't rape you in your sleep. Maybe."

We met with Mrs. Reynolds that afternoon, when we told her what we had in mind her face lit up like the sun.

"I love that idea. I'd gotten tired of renting it out only to have it trashed when the business would leave. The real estate market is depressed enough that I can't sell it for what it's worth. You moving in will be a godsend. I'll make a deal with you. If you'll cover the utilities and pay the taxes each year you can move in rent free. Don't be telling that to anyone, I just want to bless you guys. Do we have a deal?"

Neither sis or I had to give it a moment of thought, we shook hands, she gave us the keys and we drove away smiling. We decided to do the work on our own, the good carpenters were all committed for several weeks, and I wasn't about to hire the wood butchers who were available. Over the next two weeks Joanie and I spent our evenings working in the building. Our main focus was building a wall separating the front and back, then making an office area for her.

The phone people were in to install a hard line and internet. She and I built a counter to keep people from wandering to the shop area or get behind her. With used office furniture purchased and moved in we were ready for her to begin taking calls in the new facility. We continued working evenings in the back of the building, installing shelves and putting up cabinets for storage. Being in such close contact our awkward moments were becoming more and more frequent. We would catch one another staring, there would be the bodies grazing each other, or ending up in close contact while helping.

There was more than once she was bent over my back helping hold something in place while I anchored it. The feel of her breasts made it extremely difficult to not turn, strip and make love to her. The worst was one evening when she was on the step ladder and had lost her balance, I quickly put my hand on her butt and held her in place as she regained her footing. On the way home that night she smiled, leaned toward me and spoke softly.

"You liked touching my butt, didn't you? It's alright. I sorta liked it as well." Nothing more was said.

With the shop finished our evenings were spent at home most nights. Her sitting snuggled against me was a common occurrence, more than one time I had bent my head kissing the top of hers in what we pretended was an innocent gesture. We'd been circling each other for close to a month when things changed. She wanted me to take her out for her birthday, not pizza and a movie. A restaurant with some ambiance, maybe a dance floor, somewhere she could be dressed up and not seem out of place.