Paradise Found

Paradise Found

This is a story about a brother and sister dealing with their attraction for each other. If you are looking for quick graphic sex, look elsewhere.

All characters are over eighteen years old.

It was about 11:00 p.m.on a Friday night in August. August can be miserable in Philadelphia, hot and humid, and tonight was living up to that reputation. My apartment didn't have air conditioning - I was lucky to have a refrigerator and stove. Anyway, I was sitting on the couch in my boxers, trying to decide whether to keep watching TV or hope that it would be cooler somehow in the bedroom, when there was a knock at my door.

I wasn't expecting anyone - not at that hour - and at first I figured somebody had the wrong apartment, so I just ignored the knocking and stayed on the couch. But then there was another knock, more insistent, and a voice - a female voice - said, "Jake! C'mon, open up."

I went to the door and opened it just enough to look out. It was a young woman, blonde, 5'6" or 5'7", wearing a sleeveless summer dress that came down to about mid-thigh, and black stiletto heels. She held her arms in front of her, hands on her elbows, and was rocking, or maybe swaying is the right word, swaying just enough so that I knew she had had a few drinks, but wasn't really drunk. She was gorgeous, and I had never seen her before. Or so I thought.

"Yes?" I said.

"Jake, it's me, Jenna. Can I come in?"

Jenna was my younger sister, but this girl didn't look anything like her. "Is this some kind of a joke?" I said. "You don't -"

"Oh, for crying out loud! Do I have to show you my ID? Jake, it's me!" She pushed open the door and brushed past me, then turned around unsteadily. "You always greet your guests like that?" she said, looking at my boxers.

"Hey, it's hot, it's late, and it's my apartment. Now how about explaining who you are and what's going on."

She made an exasperated noise and clenched her fists. "I'm your sister, you idiot! You haven't seen me for two years. Things have changed."

She was right about that - I hadn't seen her, or my parents, for two years. I had graduated from high school and was living at home, working, waiting to go to college, when my father decided it was time for us to have "the talk." No, not that talk. He never spoke to me about sex. No, this was the talk when he told me that he expected I would major in accounting so I could join his firm when I graduated, and eventually take it over when he retired. After he finished telling me how I was going to live the rest of my life, I said, "Dad, I'm not going to major in accounting. I want to be an artist. I'm going to study art."

He took a deep breath, and his mouth got real rigid, and he just looked at me for what felt like a long time. Then he said, "Fine. Major in art. Waste your time. But I'm not paying for it, and if you want to live here you're gonna have to pay rent." Then he got up and left the room. The next day I packed my clothes, a few books, and my sketch pads, and left. I crashed at a buddy's for a couple of days, found this crappy apartment, and blew some of my savings on rent, security deposit, and some used furniture. College was off the table, but I kept working, and last year lucked out with an entry-level design job at an ad agency. The money wasn't great, but it was enough for me to get some decent furnishings, and they kept me on during the pandemic, letting me work from the apartment. I was starting to get a little ahead, and hoping to start taking classes part time in the fall. I hadn't talked to my parents, nor had they tried to contact me, since the day I left.

"So, things have changed," I said, looking at her body. Her dress had a scoop neck and buttons down the front, and a couple of them had come undone. I could see nice full breasts with quite a bit of cleavage and a plum-colored bra, and tanned and toned thighs. The muscles of her calves were accentuated by the stiletto heels. Like I said, gorgeous. I found myself getting a little aroused.

"You like what you see?" she said. "It took me a year or more. You remember what I was like - chubby, mousy brown hair, glasses - a real dork. After you left, I decided that if you could take control of your life, so could I. I dieted, exercised, worked hard to get myself a decent body. Well, I lucked out in the boobs department, but the rest is all my hard work. I got rid of the glasses, got contact lenses. In June, I graduated from high school, and treated myself to blonde hair and a new style. I had a job at a clothing store, and was able to get a few nice things before everything shut down."

She paused. "I have to take off these shoes," she said, and, putting one hand on the arm of the couch, she bent over and took them off, giving me a good look at her upper thighs and a glimpse of a thong that matched the bra. She stood up, and apparently got a little dizzy, because she fell forward. I reached out and caught her arm, and she leaned her breasts into me, just for a second. "Whoops! Sorry. I had a few drinks earlier."

"Maybe you should sit down," I said. "You want some water or anything?"

"Water would be good."

I went into the kitchen, put some ice in a glass and filled it with water. When I got back from the kitchen she was sitting on the couch, her dress riding up her thighs. I couldn't help staring. Yeah, I knew by this time she was my sister, but at the same time she was a total stranger, and I was a horny 22-year-old.

I gave her the water. "Thanks," she said, and drank about half the glass. I noticed she was staring at my boxers.

"Something wrong?" I asked. I sat down on the couch.

"No, no, it's just..." She took another drink. "Anyway, you can imagine what happened at home. I started to attract boys. Most of the time they came around when dad wasn't home, and mom just said that I should think about the path I was on. But the other day, dad said that if I was going to act like a jezebel they didn't want me in their house. A jezebel. I didn't know what he meant. I said I wasn't doing anything wrong, I just wanted to look nice. He told me to think about things, and let them know my intentions. So I went out tonight with a few friends, had a few drinks, and told them what was going on."

"And?"

"And I thought, who is the one person I know that would truly understand what I was going through, because he'd been through it too. So I came over here." Her voice got wistful. "Jake, I was devastated when I found out you'd left. I used to follow you around like a puppy dog, remember? My big, handsome, athletic, sexy older brother. I could always go to you for advice. Well, now I really need some, so - here I am."

I gave a short laugh. "You want my advice? You know what I did, and you can see where it got me. No college, a low-paying job, and this beautiful apartment."

"But you're doing what you want," she said. "You would have made a lousy accountant."

"That's true. So, what do you want?"

She thought for a minute. "I guess - I guess what I want is for you to love and respect me."

"Me? I'll love and respect you no matter what. It's your life, Jenna. Don't trade dad's vision of it for mine. Do you want to go to college? Have a career? What?"

"Oh, Jake, I don't know. I'm only nineteen. You always had your art. The only thing about college that appeals to me right now is that it would get me out of that house." She paused. "I may not know what I want, but I damn sure know what I don't want. I don't want to spend the rest of my life living like a nun in that suburban prison."

"So, there you go. Move out."

"It's not that simple. I have no job, hardly any savings. Yeah, I can go work in fast food for $15 an hour. That's just another trap. Shit." She started to tear up.

"Look," I said, standing up. "It's late. We're both tired. You're a little drunk. You better stay here tonight, get a good night's sleep, and we'll pick this up in the morning. Okay?"

"Okay." She pushed herself up, giving me a great view of her cleavage. "You're the best. I knew I could count on you." She came up to me and put her arms around me, pulling me into a hug. Her breasts pressed against my chest. I felt myself getting hard.

"Uh, one problem," I said, pulling away and turning so she couldn't see my boner. "This is a one-bedroom apartment, which means I only have one bed."

"I can sleep on the couch," she said.

"No, you take the bedroom. You're gonna need a good night's sleep after the alcohol. Plus you probably want some privacy. I'll take the couch. You want to take a shower or anything? I've got extra toothbrushes, there's shampoo and soap and stuff. I'll get you a towel. Bathroom's right here," I said, pointing.

"You sound nervous," she said. "Do I make you nervous?"

"No, why?"

"Look," she said. "I don't mind that you're checking out my body. I kind of like it. It's flattering, and I haven't gotten used to being attractive yet. So, look all you want." She smiled. "You think I'm not doing the same thing to you?" She looked pointedly at my boxers, where there was a distinct bulge.

"Jenna, I -" She was right, of course. On the one hand, I knew she was my sister, but my memory of my sister was very different, and she was, as I keep saying, gorgeous, and not particularly shy about showing it off. "Okay, you caught me. I was checking you out, because you are absolutely beautiful. But you're my sister, so that's as far as it goes."

"I guess," she said, shrugging.

"Okay, we got that settled. So, is there anything you need?"

"Do you have a tee shirt I can use for a nightgown?"

"Yeah, in the dresser, second drawer. They're clean."

"Great. Let me take a quick shower and brush my teeth." She grabbed her purse, went into the bedroom and found the tee shirts, and picked one out. While she was doing that I got her a clean towel and toothbrush. "I should have asked you," she said as she came out of the bedroom. "Is there a woman in your life? Am I interfering with a late-night rendezvous or anything?"

"There was, until about three months ago. I'm not seeing anyone right now."

"Oh, what happened?

"Turns out she was more interested in, let's say, material things than I was. When I couldn't provide those, she went looking for someone who could."

"Ah. Well, her loss. I'll be quick." She went into the bathroom and shut the door. After a minute I heard the shower come on.

It was too hot to bother with sheets and blankets for the couch, so I just grabbed a pillow, then went into the bedroom and picked up the dirty socks I had left on the floor. I went into the kitchen, got a glass of water, and sat at the little table I used for eating, and for my home office. Two trains of thought were running through my mind. Good Jake was thinking of my sister's dilemma, and what advice I might offer that could actually be useful. Bad Jake was imagining the gorgeous woman in the shower, soaping her breasts, her nipples hard and erect, hot water running down her thighs... Bad Jake's train was winning. I found myself getting hard again. I'd have to do something about that, after "lights out."

Soon I heard the shower shut off, and a little later Jenna came out of the bathroom wearing my tee shirt, her hair wrapped in her towel. The tee shirt came to just below her ass, and I got a good look at those beautiful legs. She smiled when she saw me looking, and I didn't try to hide my boner. "You make me feel like I might actually be pretty," she said. "You can't imagine how good that makes me feel, after all those years of being a chubby nerd." She bent down and kissed me on the cheek. "Thank you, Jake. For everything."

I stood up, my boxers tenting out. "Get a good night's sleep," I said. "And don't worry. We'll deal with this in the morning."

"Good night," she said. "I'd hug you, but I think I might get stabbed." She went into the bedroom and closed the door.

Two hours later, I was still awake. The couch was too short for me to stretch out, it was still miserably hot, and I couldn't stop thinking about the gorgeous girl in my bed, wearing only a tee shirt that had probably ridden up, exposing her...

The bedroom door opened. Jenna came into the living room. "Jake?"

"Yeah."

"I know you can't sleep. I've been listening to you toss and turn. And I can't sleep, 'cause I feel guilty that I took your bed. So come on. We're both adults, we're both wearing clothes, and the bed's big enough for two."

"Jenna, I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Oh, don't be a baby about this. So you get hard, big deal. We're just gonna sleep."

I thought about protesting some more, but gave in. That couch was really uncomfortable. We went into the bedroom. "Which side do you want?" she asked.

"I don't care. Why don't you take that side," I said, pointing, "in case you need to get up to use the bathroom."

"Okay." She lay down, made sure the tee shirt was covering her ass, and turned on her side, facing the wall. I lay down on my side, facing the other way. "Good night," she said.

"Yeah, good night."

And after a short while I did doze off. I'm not sure how long I slept, but I was having a really erotic dream when I woke up. It was still dark. I was still facing away from Jenna, but I could feel her breasts pressed into my back, and her arm was resting on my hip. Her hand was close to my cock, which was rigid, throbbing, and sticking out of my boxers.

"Oh, shit!" I muttered. As unobtrusively as I could, I lifted her arm off my hip and onto her side. I then eased out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. Jenna didn't appear to wake up. I shut the bathroom door, sat on the toilet, grabbed a handful of toilet paper, and did what I should have done earlier - jerked off and shot my load. It was a much bigger load than usual, and much more pleasant, and all the while I thought of Jenna's body, waiting for me in the bed across the hall. After I finished and cleaned up I went back to the bedroom. Jenna had turned over again, and her tee shirt had ridden up, exposing her spectacular ass. She was wearing a different-colored thong. I lay down, facing away from her, and soon drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up, about 7:30, she was still asleep, facing away from me. I got up quietly, used the bathroom, then went into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. I was on my first cup, trying to find something in the fridge I could make for breakfast, when she came out of the bedroom. She went into the bathroom for a while, then joined me in the kitchen. Still in her, or I should say my, tee shirt, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she looked just as gorgeous as the night before. I felt myself twitching again.

"How'd you sleep?" I asked.

"Fine, once we got the bed thing straightened out. You wouldn't have any aspirin, would you?"

"Yeah," I said, grateful for the excuse to turn away. I pulled a bottle out of one of the drawers and handed it to her. "Want some OJ? A big glass of OJ will get you rehydrated, help get rid of that headache."

"I'd love some," she said, and opened the fridge. "Huh," she said. "Typical guy. I was gonna offer to make you breakfast, but there's nothing here." She took the orange juice and shut the fridge. I gave her a glass, then sat down at the table and sipped my coffee.

"Sit down, drink your juice," I said. "Then I'll take you out to breakfast. When your headache is gone and you've eaten, we can have a serious conversation."

"That sounds like a plan," she said, and took a seat at the table.

"You better call mom," I said. "Let her know you're okay, and that you stayed here."

"Good idea," she said, and got up to get her phone. The tee shirt rode up again. Damn, I thought, I don't know how much of this I can take.

She came back into the kitchen, the phone at her ear. "Yes, mom, I'm fine. I'm at Jake's. I came over here last night and we got to talking, and it was too late to come home. Yes, I'll be back later today." She listened for a minute, then said, "He's fine. He has a steady job, and his own apartment." Another pause. "Okay, I'll tell him. See you later." She put the phone down. "Mom says hello, and she misses you."

I didn't say anything. The split had been between me and dad. Mom just followed his lead, but I still resented them both.

"Okay," I said, finishing my coffee. "I'm gonna take a quick shower and get dressed, and we can go out for some breakfast. There's a place just a couple of blocks from here that does custom omelets, if you're in the mood."

"You won't be embarrassed that I'll be wearing the same dress as last night?"

"Embarrassed? Are you kidding? I'll probably be fighting guys off."

"Thanks, that's sweet. I'll get dressed while you're in the shower. Okay if I have some coffee?"

"Of course. Mugs are in the cabinet there."

She went to get a mug, and of course, when she reached up her tee shirt rode up again, and I started to get hard. I rushed off to the bathroom before she could notice.

I turned on the shower, took off my boxers, and got under the water, which I had set as cool as I could. It felt so good, and I just stood under the spray, my eyes closed, stroking my dick - when she came in.

"Uh, sorry, Jake. I washed out my underclothes last night and left them in here. Sorry."

I turned toward the wall when I heard her, and I doubt that she could have seen much through the shower door, but it was still unnerving. That, and the little giggle she gave as she was leaving. At least my dick wasn't hard after that. I finished up in the bathroom, put my boxers back on, and went into the bedroom and shut the door. Clean boxers, some cargo shorts, and a clean tee shirt, and I was good to go. I grabbed my wallet and keys and went out into the kitchen. "All set?" I said.

She stood up from the table. She was the same vision of loveliness from the night before. Not quite as much cleavage, but there was no question - she looked spectacular.

"All set," she said. We went out and down to the street, and started walking toward the restaurant. She took my arm and leaned into me, her breast pressing into me. "God, this feels so good, Jake! Just walking down the street, going out for breakfast. You know I've never done this? Ever? I can't thank you enough."

"C'mon," I said, "you're embarrassing me. And I don't think I've ever walked down the street with anyone nearly as beautiful, so we're even."

Even before the restaurant, I started to hear the whistles, the low comments, the gasps of guys going by. But she seemed oblivious to it all. She just held my arm and leaned into me. When we got to the restaurant I held the door for her and she walked in, and just about every head in the place turned to look at her. We found a table for two and sat down. A waitress brought us menus and coffee.

"How hungry are you?" I said. "I told you about the custom omelets, but it's a lot of food. They come with toast and potatoes."

"I don't think I want all that," she said. "I'll just get toast, and maybe have a bite or two of yours."

So that's what we did. And I have to admit, it felt like I was out with the girl of my dreams, the start of a weekend together. I was having trouble thinking of her as my sister. The food sharing, the flirting, the little glances. One part of my brain - a small part - warned me that I was losing touch with reality. The rest didn't really care. And maybe that's what made it seem so special. It wasn't just physical. It was the way we interacted, so comfortable with each other, a shared history.

After we had finished, and paid the bill, we went outside and headed back to my apartment. She took my hand and we walked along slowly. "Funny, isn't it?" she said.

"What?"

"That something as simple as going out for breakfast could be so wonderful."