My Sister's Diary Pt. 01

My name is Jake and I am 21 years old. I still live at home with my mom, dad, and my autistic sister Abby, who is 25 years old. This is the story of how our relationship and bond deepened. There's a lot of emotions to try to get across with this, and a lot of information to disperse, so if it all seems jumbled around I am sorry. I'm no George R. R. Martin.

I was probably around 6 years old when I started realizing Abby was different from other people. She was brilliant for her age, quiet and reserved, and she was very particular about things. Her toys, clothes, books, and everything else had to be in a certain order, all with it's own little place, all labeled with Abby's prescribed name. The labeling didn't stop at her things, however. Every single item that Abby may end up using is labeled, even if it already has labeling on the packaging. I'm talking everything. Toilet. Sink. Door. Couch. Chair. Table. Bleach. Bread. It was like an obsession, and my parents went along with it when she was younger expecting it to change. It never did.

That's something I love about Abby, she never changes. When she was 10 years old she seemed to have the maturity of a young adult, and now as a young adult she is her same old self that she's always been. One thing about Abby has changed, however, and that's my relationship with her. It all started 4 years ago. We were on a family vacation in Myrtle Beach, I never got the impression Abby really liked our family vacations, but she tolerated them. But she never, not once in her life, swam. I'm not sure why, she didn't seem scared of the water by the way she'd sit poolside with her feet in the water, she just always refused to fully get in and swim.

Well one day, when I dragged her down to our rented condos pool, she fell in. Just like that. She was walking by the pool in her jean shorts and tee shirt, I called something out to her causing her to turn, stumble, and fully submerge in the 7 foot deep pool. I immediately dove in after her, getting her head above water as quickly as possible. She did her best to doggy paddle, but really her limbs were just flailing wildly, desperately trying to keep her above the surface. Once I had her in my arms, she calmed and let me carry her to the edge of the pool, where I helped her out and she sat on the edge of the pool.

"Thanks." She whispered.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded, and mopped her wet, jet black hair out of her face. She was visibly shaking.

"You sure?"

She nodded again, and then wrapped her arms around my neck to hug me. Hugs from Abby were rare occasions, usually reserved for special moments. Sometimes they'd come at complete random and take you by surprise, but typically you'd get a hug from her when you either really needed it, or you did something particularly nice for her. I guess saving her from drowning might qualify as particularly nice.

I hugged her back, enjoying the intimacy I rarely get to share with my sister, until she unwrapped her arms from my neck. She pulled at her shirt and jean shorts, obviously displeased with her being soaked. I pulled myself out of the pool, stood, and extended my hand out to her. "Come on, let's go get you changed." She took my hand with a slight smile and I helped her stand, and we held hands all the way back to the condo.

Following this, me getting a hug from Abby was no longer a rare occasion, it turned into a daily occasion. More than hugs, different kinds of physical intimacy too. Holding hands more, or random touches here and there, cuddling in bed or on the couch, she even started giving me a peck on the cheek. It changed so much so that by the time I was 18 we were probably as close as siblings could get without seeming strange.

I loved it. Physical touch was my love language, I hugged my mom, dad, friends, and now that I could walk up and hug my sister who I loved so dearly when I wanted it was like a dream come true. But there was just one issue, Abby was not stopping her ever so slow escalation of our intimacy. Three years ago she first kissed me on the lips. A short, small peck that I understandably thought was a mistake meant for my cheek, until it happened again. And again. And again. My parents waved it off, even thought it was a good thing, and that it might help her, "get out of her shell". And maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. It wasn't, really. But the boners I'd get from them... now that's bad.

What can I say? She was my first kiss, and I couldn't help myself. And once I crossed the barrier of masturbating with my sister on my mind, the fantasies just got worse and worse until I was imagining having sex with her. It also caused me to look at her in ways I never imagined, checking out her butt, her chest, even her feet. It didn't help that she didn't seem to have any self awareness about how she dressed around the house. Panties and tank-top, always.

I guess now is as good a time as ever to describe us, Abby stands a measly 5 Feet and 1 inch tall, weighing in at just around 100 pounds. She has long, jet black hair that she cuts constantly to keep "nipple length". Her words, not mine, and I'm not sure why. She has hazel brown eyes, perfectly straight white teeth, and a cute slightly upturned nose that makes her look like a Who from Whoville from certain angles. She has thin curved lips, and a serious, pouty brow that can make her look almost intimidating to strangers. Her breasts, well they're breasts. I'm no expert but I'd say a small B Cup? I don't know, she doesn't wear bras. She has a nice round bottom, perky but with full cheeks that can just about hide her panties between them.

I share my sister's jet black hair and hazel eyes, but that's as far as our physical similarities go. I am 6 foot and 2 inches tall, 210 pounds. Bit pudgy, but a bit of muscle on me as well. I keep clean shaven, and have been told I have a gentle, friendly face. My dick is 6 and a half inches long, perverts.

Anyway, now to the point of the story and reason for the title. Ever since I could remember Abby had kept a diary. Last time I saw, she had over a dozen used diaries completely filled, each 100 pages. For someone who sometimes only speaks a couple dozen words a day, that's insane. It's quite possible there are more words written in those pages than my sister has said her entire life, and they're locked away from me. No one, and I mean no one can read her diaries. She keeps the filled ones in her closet with a padlock only she has the key to, and the one she currently uses is either always on her, locked away with her used ones, or hidden very well.

As you can imagine I'd always been incredibly curious as to just what she was writing in there. There was just so much Abby seemingly had to say that she just... didn't. And it was all right there, just out of my grasp. Until one day it wasn't.

Abby had somehow gotten COVID, this was back in mid 2021, right in the middle of COVID lockdowns being lifted and everyone in our household was vaccinated. I'd already made my peace with the fact that if she was getting it, I was getting it, and I'd hold her in bed for quite some time most nights until she was able to fall asleep. One night, after she'd fallen asleep and I was able to slip out of bed, I noticed something that surprised me. She'd left the key in the padlock. Deathly sick as she was, Abby was so particular about things I didn't believe my eyes at first, but they weren't lying.

Quietly, I tip toed over to her closet door, pulled the lock open, and slowly opened the closet door while my heart thudded in my chest. There they were. The books I hadn't seen in years. They were labeled by date, first entry to last entry. I grabbed the first book on the pile, the most recently completed one, and opened it to a random page.

October 26th, 2019

This morning I woke up at 8:00 AM, used the restroom, brushed my teeth, showered, and then dressed. After dressing I left my room, heading downstairs for breakfast. As I passed Jake's door I heard him masturbating again, right on schedule. I stopped and listened until he ejaculated this time, Mother nor Father would be likely to catch me at this time on a Saturday, and it was quite exciting to be doing something so naughty. Afterwards I walked down the steps to join Mother in the kitchen, and since I was feeling delightful this morning I verbally greeted her. She was making my favorite breakfast on Saturday's, two pancakes with three blueberries each. I was feeling so well I asked her for three tablespoons of syrup, rather than two. Jake and Father joined us shortly, I studied Jake's right hand to see if there were any dried ejaculate like there had been before, but I did not spot any and was disappointed.

I stopped reading and looked at Abby sleeping in bed. What the fuck? I was so taken aback. After the initial shock wore off, I started growing hard, and wanted very badly to keep reading. I flipped a couple pages, and read again.

November 12th, 2019

This morning I woke up at 8:00 AM, used the restroom, brushed my teeth, showered, and then dressed. After dressing I left my room, heading downstairs for breakfast. As I passed Jake's door I did not hear him masturbating, and was disappointed. Afterwards I walked down the steps and nodded to my mother, she was making my favorite breakfast on Tuesdays, plain scrambled eggs with toast. I was feeling so displeased this morning I did not opt for any butter on my toast.

It went on just like the last entry I read, and the next. It seemed she was just as particular about her entries as she is about most things. I did feel quite guilty for reading these, but my curiosity was too great to prevent me from doing so.

I returned everything to it's proper place, left her lock just as she left it, and snuck out of her room. I laid in my own bed and struggled to wrap my head around what I'd just read. Not only did Abby know I masturbated, she actively listened when she had the chance, and seemed to enjoy it. A plan started formulating, a plan that would not only allow my sister to listen to me masturbate, but watch as well.

About a week and a half had passed and Abby was back to her normal schedule. It was a Saturday and 8:15 AM, I could hear the shower running and knew Abby would be out shortly, and would soon be outside my door. However this time, one thing was different, my door was left cracked open just about an inch. I heard the shower stop, and began slowly stroking my hardening cock, both excited and nervous about what was about to happen.

I heard her bedroom door open. This was it. I started stroking as I normally would, completely above covers, knowing Abby would easily be able to see me if she were to peak through the crack. I kept my eyes partially opened, and watched the crack of my door for movement. Then I saw it. The light coming through the doorway was blocked by a figure, and I knew my sister was now watching me masturbate.

It was an unbelievable turn on knowing I was being watched, so much so I had already come close to cumming after just a few minutes. I quickened my hand, and without a thought as I came, a single word escaped my lips. "Abby" I groaned as my cock pulsed and I splattered my stomach. That was not my plan. I have no idea why I said her name, I never had before, I just... did. By the time I finished and looked to the door, her figure was gone. 'Fuck.' I thought, 'What did I just fucking do?'

My stomach was in knots as I dressed. She'll never look at me the same, never feel comfortable around me again, never hug me again. I was ashamed and terrified. When I finally made my way downstairs I struggled to look at Abby, but when I did she was just looking at me with the blank expression her face typically carried. 'She doesn't seem disgusted, that's a good sign, at least.' I thought to myself.

After I finished breakfast I stood and announced I was going out for a bike ride, typical for my weekend mornings. Abby stood, hugged me, and pecked my lips as she normally had for the past few months. That was a good sign, and it helped a great deal to lighten my mood. "I love you." I heard her whisper, taking my by surprise. It's not like she never said it, it was just odd for her to say it on a normal, or maybe not so normal morning.

"I love you too." I said, before heading to the garage for my bike. A long bike ride works wonders to clear the head, and before I knew it I'd biked 3 miles from home thinking of Abby. I'd decided to myself that this morning was a huge mistake, it seems plainly obvious, setting it up so your sister sees you masturbating is clearly wrong, so I would never do it again. I was resolute in that decision until the following morning, as I lay in bed with an erection, and heard Abby's shower running.

'If she didn't like it, she won't watch again this morning. Just one last time, to see.' I thought as I cracked open my door, justifying this to myself. I started stroking myself again once I heard her bedroom door open following her shower, and again her form was just visible through the crack in my door as I masturbated.

As I got close I wasn't thinking straight, just thinking of her, and again her name escaped my lips as I came. I came a copious amount as I held my eyes shut and imagine it was my sisters mouth it was landing, not my stomach. I opened my eyes, expecting to see her gone again, but this time my door was open, and Abby was just a few feet from my bed.

"Why do you keep saying my name when you masturbate?" She asked as soon as my eyes were open.

"Abby!" I yelped in surprise, hastily covering my body. She just stood there in her tank top and panties, awaiting my response with her blank expression. "I'm... I'm sorry, Abby." I said.

She sat on my bed next to me, and said plainly, "Typically people fantasize about things that please them sexually when masturbating, but you say my name. I want to know why."

I was lost for words. I just didn't know what to say. "You're... pretty?" I said.

"I'm pretty." She repeated. "Okay." She said, stood, and started walking out of my room.

"Abby." I called to her back. She stopped in the door way and turned to me. "Are you going to tell mom and dad about this?" She smirked and shook her head before walking out, leaving me sitting in my bed, head spinning.

Breakfast was normal, besides Abby studying me like I was a painting. She seemed in a really good mood, which normally would make my day, but given this morning it made me feel a bit off. She hugged and kissed me as normal before I left for my bike ride, although I could swear her lips lingered for a fraction of a second longer than usual.

Once home from biking and after I showered, my mom asked me, "Jake, why don't you take your sister to bingo today? She's been wanting to go all week." Abby loved bingo. Something about it just holds her attention like nothing else, and I've never seen my sister smile so large, or be so quick so speak in front of strangers than when she gets bingo. She'd just been playing again the past few months since places opened back up, but she seemed to love it more than ever.

"Sure, mom, no problem." I looked to Abby and she flashed a quick smile, which I returned.

In the car, just a few seconds down the road, Abby said, "Thanks for taking me to bingo." She was pretty talkative today.

"Of course. And I'm sorry about earlier."

"About what?"

"You know, when you caught me..."

"Oh. That. It was honestly quite flattering to learn you find me attractive. You have a very desirable penis." If I was drinking, that would have been a spit take.

"Huh?" I asked, sounding quite goofy.

"Well, it appears to be around 7 inches in length which puts you well above average, but not overtly intimidating. I didn't get to inspect it long enough for me to determine circumference, but from what I saw it'd fit comfortably in my hand." She said, and curved her fingers like she was holding an imaginary penis. She continued, "Those two points along with it's aesthetically pleasing shape and proportions drew me to that conclusion."

"Wow. You thought about that a lot." Is all I could think to say.

"Quite." She said, and held my hand. We sat in silence the rest of the drive, with Abby letting out an almost imperceivably gasp and squeezing my hand tightly when we pulled into the parking lot of the community center. She was so cute when she was excited. Most of the people there, as usual, were older. Of the people partaking in bingo, Abby and I had to be the youngest by at least 30 years.

We sat and patiently waited for the next game to start, and when it did Abby was fully enthralled. When she gets super focused on something her tongue comes to life, flicking around in her mouth or around her lips and now was no different. I watched her as she focused intently on her board, scanning and memorizing it so she would know every single number she would need. She caught me looking.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" She asked.

"Like what."

"Like... That."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Okay."

A few minutes of silence goes by and round is over, she did not win. She let out a groan of disappointment before moving on to her next board. She accused me of looking at her a certain way, but I felt like she was looking at me differently, too. I caught her eyes flicking up to look at me much more often than they usually would during bingo, and for longer durations too. Almost like I was distracting her.

I noticed with her free hand she was scratching at the side of her thumb with her index finger, something she does when she's nervous or focused, and sometimes she could even make herself bleed for doing it for so long. So I took her hand in mine, and held it. It seemed to help stop the fidgeting and she relaxed.

About a half dozen games in I heard her giggling to herself and she was squirming in her seat, she had a couple winning numbers and was brimming with excitement.

52

Abby was out of her seat with her hands in the air in an instant. "Bingo!" She yelled happily. She walked quickly up to the front desk, I could barely keep up, and handed the employee her board.

"Looks like we have a bingo!" He announced over the microphone. "What's your name young lady?" He said, pointing the microphone towards her mouth.

"Abby." She said with a smile. I found it funny because the employee knew her, had known her for years, but still asked for her name every time she wins.

"Let's hear it for Abby!" He said to a round of applause.

Abby grinned shyly realizing how many people were looking at her, and quickly walked over to the prize table. Most of the stuff you could tell was for older folks to gift their grandchildren, toys and knickknacks and such, but one thing caught Abby's eye, a small metal locket. She grabbed it and pulled me back to our seats by my hand so she could be in the next round.

She was happy, and it made me happy. She caught me smiling at her and she smiled back, but said "There's that look again."

"I'm just looking at you."

"Okay." She said, returning her focus to her board. She didn't win again, but before we knew it we'd been playing for two and a half hours. She'd play all day if you let her.

After one last game I said, "Alright, let's go. You hungry? I'm hungry."

She stood, looking disappointed, and just nodded. Her after bingo meal was always Steak 'n Shake, without fail. Oddly enough I don't think she's ever asked for it despite after bingo. This was back when Steak 'n Shake didn't have servers so we just had to order from a kiosk, but a girl who worked there recognized me from school and walked up to us.

"Jake? How's it going? How have you been?" The tall blonde said. Jennifer, I remembered as things started coming back to me. Jenny for short. She was always a pretty girl.