Sister Golden Hair

I laughed inwardly, but thankfully didn't let it show on my face. "I'm sure we'll think of something," I replied.

Later that night, I found myself once again conversing with "Irish". I had initiated the conversation even though he still hadn't sent me the final version of his story. Now that I had confirmed that Irish was my brother, I had to dig deeper into this incest interest of his. Was it really unrelated to anything in his real life, or did I trigger this within him? I knew I couldn't rest my mind until I had the answer.

"So did you ever get that boar?" he asked me through our usual message thread on hot-smut.

It took me a second to figure out what the heck he was talking about. "Oh, right," I replied when it clicked for me. "Nope, slippery little bugger just did get away from me."

"Hmm...somehow me thinks thou art lying to me."

"How rude!"

"Anyway, if you're wondering, no I still haven't finished my final edit on my story. I've decided to change it drastically. May take a few more days."

"Ooh, sounds interesting," I replied. "Details?"

"In due time, my love."

Being referred to as "my love" by my big brother was an interesting moment for me. "So listen," I began typing, "tell me more about this sister of yours."

"Uhh...what for?"

"I'm just really curious, is all."

"Uhh...what for?"

"Come on! It'd just be cool to hear a little bit about the person who inspired you to take a dive into this writing genre."

"Okay first of all, no words have I ever typed to you implied that in any way. Secondly, I still thought we were trying to keep personal details to a minimum."

"It's not like anything you share about her is going to reveal anything more about who you are. Just leave names out of it and it'll be fine."

"Alright fine," he replied. "What would you like to know?"

I decided to keep it simple at first. "When you think about your sister, what's the first word that comes to mind?"

After a brief pause, his message came in. "Moody," he replied.

"Hey!" I typed back carelessly. Moody? Really Jet? Was this really my defining attribute to you?

"Hey...what?"

I thought quickly. "Hey...that's a cruel stereotype about young girls, and I won't stand for it." I hated how hurt I felt by something like that.

"Well let's get one thing clear right now," he said. "My sister is not a 'young girl'. I mean, she's young, but of legal age."

"Legal age, huh?" I typed back, feeling intrigued. "Legal age to do what?"

"Just...you know what I mean. She's eighteen. I just didn't want you thinking I was perving on my little sister of an inappropriate age or anything."

"I see, so you are perving on her then?"

He didn't type back for a while. "No I'm not..." he typed back simply.

I felt a rush of something exciting course through my body. "That almost sounded like a confession," I responded.

"Okay, if I admit that I do in fact think my sister is really cute and that maybe just a small fraction of a percent of me used her as inspiration in my recent story, will you let it go?"

My brain had to focus hard to keep my fingers from automatically typing out a million and one follow up questions. Too much too soon he'll be scared away. Or worse, grow suspicious.

"I'll almost let it go," I responded. "Just tell me what exactly you find cute about her and I'll never ask you about it again." I kind of felt bad begging him to say wonderful things about me, but the ego boost sure would feel good, I concluded.

"Remind me why you want to know this information?" he asked me.

I thought for a while about an acceptable answer. "I guess part of me is getting a teensy bit into this whole brother-sister thing," I said, not entirely lying. "It would just be...nice information to have. That's all. You can consider it my fee for being your editor."

"Alright, fine," he replied. "She's cute to me because...she's cute."

I waited for more, but got nothing. "Gonna need a bit more info there, Irish."

"Well how the hell do you explain someone's beauty?" he asked.

"Aww, beauty!?" I said to myself.

"You're the writer, Irish," I wrote. "Figure it out."

A few minutes later, just when I thought I had gone too far and scared him off, a new message came in. "Her eyes," he typed. "They're beautiful. They're like this icy blue color. Sometimes I swear they actually are made of glitter. It's the first thing I look at on her when she enters the room. When I look close enough, I can get a read on all her emotions by just focusing on her eyes."

"That's...kinda sweet," I replied, glancing briefly at my eyes in the mirror in my room.

"They're like how I imagine Santa's eyes to be."

"You mean, like Claus?"

"You know another Santa?"

I groaned. "Okay that's less sweet now," I typed.

"Well I wasn't finished," he responded.

"Oh sorry! Continue."

"She has a really cute little nose. Little freckles on it." I touched my nose and smiled. "And her smile, when she manages to show it...well I don't know that I'd say it lights up a room or anything, but it makes me happy when I see it, almost like it's a smile meant only for me."

"Damn, Jet," I whispered to myself. Part of me was wondering if I was getting more than I bargained for.

"Sounds like you have very strong feelings for this sister of yours," I replied.

"Well, not like that," he replied quickly. "But she means a lot to me for sure. She's my best friend."

"That's really sweet."

"Oh yeah, and one more thing."

After a brief pause, I felt like I had to egg him on a bit.

"Go on..." I said.

"Feels a little weird saying this, but recently I've noticed that her, uh...her legs are really nice."

I instantly blushed, thinking back to earlier when Jet came in my room and saw me in my shorts, or even before when I accidentally walked around in front of him in my underwear.

"Oh really?" I said back, my heart racing just a bit. "How so?"

"Long, shapely, smooth, unblemished...kinda perfect, honestly."

"Oh my," I typed back.

"Don't get me wrong, she's my sister. I'm not...turned on by her legs or anything. I just can't help but notice how nice they are."

I ran my free hand softly up and down my thigh. If I was being honest with myself, I had to agree with Jet's evaluation of me. My legs were pretty banging.

"Well...anything else?" I asked, strangely wanting to know what else my big brother found hot about me.

"Nope!" he replied immediately.

"Nope? As in that's all you like about her?" What a dangerous game I was playing.

"Nope as in I already gave you more than I ageed to and this conversation is starting to make me a tad uncomfortable."

"Aww...okay then," I said, feeling quite disappointed.

We said our goodbyes. That night in the shower, I made sure to shave my legs in preparation for what I planned on doing the next day.

*****

"Hey Jet," I said the next evening as I stood in the doorway to his bedroom.

"'Sup," he replied without looking up. He was staring intently at his phone, his thumbs moving quickly on his screen.

"What are you writing?" I asked as I toyed with the hem of my way too small cotton pink shorts.

"What do you mean, 'writing'?" he asked suspiciously, still not looking up.

"Typing, whatever," I replied.

Look at me, damnit!

"Eh, nothing," he answered.

"Well, you wanna do that in the living room with me? Maybe watch something?"

"Uh...maybe later," he said, sounding extremely focused.

I went into his room and sat in the desk chair that was beside where he lay in his bed. I turned to face him and propped my bare legs up beside him, close enough so that he could reach over and touch them. Not that I wanted him to, of course.

"Bored," I said simply in the whiniest voice I could muster.

"What happened to that big project you had for school?"

"Finished it during my free period at school today."

"Ah."

I could tell his concentration wouldn't be easily swayed. On the one hand I was pleased because he was almost certainly working on his story, and the sooner I could read that the better. But I really did want him to look at me. Not simply because that was what I wanted, more for research/informational purposes, I reminded myself for the thirtieth time.

I moved my bare foot over to his face, pinched one of his little blonde curls in between my toes, and tugged on it.

"Stop!" he said, swatting my foot away.

"What are you so focused on, anyway?" I asked.

"Nothin'," he said once more.

"Talking to a girl?" I teased.

He looked sideways at me, clearly annoyed. The key thing was, however, that he finally looked at me. His eyes bore into mine for a second before softening drastically and quickly darting down to look at my outstretched legs.

"I'm just doing stuff for work, okay?" he said, finally putting his phone aside and giving me the attention I had been whining for.

"Work?" I replied skeptically, pulling my legs up and crossing one over the other. Each time I moved I watched as his eyes moved with me.

"I'm keeping track of all my offseason workouts," he said, his eyes shifting slightly between my face and thighs. "It'll help me in the years to come to see what helps me prepare better for the season."

I feigned and itch and moved my fingers underneath my shorts a bit, pulling them up even higher in the process. I shifted around slightly so that a small portion of one of my butt cheeks just barely poked through.

"I haven't seen you work out much since you've been here," I said, watching as he let his eyes linger where my imaginary itch had just occurred.

"I do it at night when you guys are asleep mostly," he replied, his gaze meeting mine again. I attempted what I thought was a very subtly flirtatious smile. He cocked his head and looked at me strangely before grabbing his phone and returning to work.

"Interesting," I said. "It just seemed like you were typing a lot of words for a workout schedule." I stretched my leg out to the side so that my toes just barely grazed his thigh.

"Well, it's very detailed," he replied as he glanced briefly down at my toes. If nothing else, I figured a little flirting might make his story all the more spicy.

"Alright, I guess I'll leave you to it then," I said, figuring I had collected enough data for the time being.

"You can hang out if you want," he said, looking at me as I stood to leave. "I just don't think I'll be good coversation."

"That's alright. I don't want to distract you from your writing process." He looked at me in a funny way. "Schedule making, I mean."

As I walked out, I glanced at a nearby mirror that was angled just right so that I could see Jet staring at my lower half. On a whim, I stopped.

"What's that?" I said as I leaned over and grasped my fingers at absolutely nothing on the floor. As I bent over, I could feel the loose material of my shorts riding up the very bottom of my ass, no doubt leaving nothing but a thin strip of material covering me from behind.

Jet didn't even bother to speak. I glanced at the mirror once more and saw him flat out gawking at me.

"Maybe my butt's pretty nice too," I thought to myself as I rose up. Slowly, I pulled my shorts back down to fully cover my bottom, then skipped merrily back across the hall.

Later that night, as I sat in my room carefully applying a subtle layer of makeup to my face, I thought once more of my motives on what I was doing. I had convinced myself that all I wanted to do was figure out if Jet was even the slightest bit into me. Well, between my conversations with "Irish" and Jet's lingering gaze earlier, I had pretty much already confirmed that.

So why was I still pursuing this? Why was I putting on makeup and perfume and about to go into the living room at midnight, wearing nothing but my underwear and a t-shirt? What more did I need to know?

As much as I didn't want to admit it to myself, I was less concerned now with just testing a theory. I wanted to know just how far I could go, and for more than just to get a rise out of Jet. It was no coincidence that I felt a rush of excitement from this little game I was playing. I was sufficiently turned on by the situation, and desperately wanted more. I just hoped that I'd know the right moment to stop.

"Hey, whatcha-OH!" I said as I entered the living room, stopping mid-sentence.

"Hey Candy," Jet said through heavy breaths as he curled weights up and down. I wasn't really surprised that he was working out, given our earlier conversation. I was definitely not expecting him, however, to be shirtless.

And dripping with sweat.

And fucking ripped.

I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised at how toned and chiseled Jet was. I mean, he was a professional athlete. Taking care of his body was an essential part of his job.

I had literally just never thought about him like that. I hadn't any reason to see him shirtless before, not since he was a lanky teenager and we went swimming together or something.

But dear god, if I had pictured him shirtless, it would not have been the image I saw in front of me. He had muscles jutting out of places that I didn't even know existed on the human body. The glistening sweat that sheened over him accentuated each one of these muscles.

"Candy?" Jet said loudly, snapping me out of my stupor.

"Wha-what?" I replied, forcing my eyes upward to meet his.

"I said, what's up?" he repeated with a slight tone of annoyance.

"Oh, uh...nothing," I replied. "Couldn't sleep. Came in to watch TV or something."

"Cool, have a seat then," he said, putting his weights carefully on the floor. "I was about to start a new episode of Seinfeld."

"Nice," I replied, finding it hard to snap back into a normal state as I sat down. "I, uh...I didn't expect you to be in here working out. Hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Of course you're not bothering me. And I told you earlier I work out when you guys are in bed."

"Right. Slipped my mind."

"Is it going to bother you if I keep going?" he asked, wiping his sweat with a nearby towel.

"Nope," I replied, sitting back comfortably to watch him and not the TV.

He looked away, but immediately turned his gaze back to me. "Uh...forget your pants again?" he asked, moving his eyes down my body.

I looked down at myself and feigned surprise. "Well shit," I said, throwing my arms up in annoyance. "Forgot again."

Jet grabbed a blanket beside him and held it up. "Want this?" he asked.

"Umm...nah," I said, waving him off. "You're too hot-I mean, IT'S too hot in here. Besides, you've seen it at this point anyway."

He smiled and dropped the blanket. "Suit yourself," he said. "I'm not complaining."

That comment piqued my curiosity. "What do you mean?" I asked

He simply shook his head and turned his focus back to his workout. "Nothin'," he said as he laid on his back. He put his hands behind his head and began doing crunches, his abs contracting as he moved.

I tried not to stare, but given that his attention was not remotely on me in that moment, it was hard not to just blatantly watch as his stomach muscles ripped across his abdomen.

"Is that hard?" I asked stupidly.

"Yep," he grunted without breaking his gate.

"How many you gonna do?"

"Just a hundred for now," he said with difficulty.

"Oh, is that all?" I said sarcastically. On a whim, I got out of my chair and sat down beside him so that every time he brought his body up he'd see my face. Each time he lifted himself up and exhaled I got a whiff of man sweat. "So which one is your favorite ninja turtle?" I asked playfully, just trying to annoy him.

"Stop it!," he scolded through heavy breath.

A few seconds later, he was done. He sat up and caught his breath, his body a sweatier mess than it had been before.

"That looked fun!" I said, watching him catch his breath. "What's next!?"

"Rest," he breathed.

"Pussy," I teased. That earned me a sweaty palm dragged across my neck. "Yuck!" I exclaimed, wiping the sweat off with my hand the best I could.

"Sorry, let me help you," he said. He reached down beside himself, picked up his sweat towel, and threw it in my face.

"Blegh, this thing is drenched!" I cried, tossing the towel back in his face. We laughed together for a moment, sitting beside each other on the floor, completely ignoring the television. It was a nice sibling moment, minus the fact that we were both half naked.

"Well, I'm exhausted," Jet said as he stood up. I looked up at his towering form and felt really small on the floor there at his feet.

"Finished already?" I teased.

"Well, I did do a lot that you weren't in here to see."

"Mm-hmm, sure you did."

"I actually do need to do one more set of push-ups. I was considering skipping them, but all your teasing has guilted me into doing them anyway."

"Ha! Well, you're welcome then."

He got down on the floor once more, this time on his hands and knees. Before getting fully into position, he glanced up at me. "You gonna just sit there and watch, then?" he asked.

"Yep!" I replied. "Oh, wait...don't move!" I hopped up and quickly ran into the kitchen, returning promptly to my spot on the floor with a bag of cheese puffs. I sat there like someone who just sat down to watch a movie with a bucket of popcorn. I opened the bag, took a few out, and shoved them unceremoniously into my mouth.

"Okay, now go ahead," I barely managed to say, my mouth full of processed corn and fake cheese.

Jet smiled and rolled his eyes before starting his push-ups. Once he got to ten, out of nowhere, a silly idea popped into my head.

"This looks too easy for you," I said as I stood up beside him. "Let's ramp up the intensity." Cheese puff bag in hand, I positioned myself over top of him, one leg on each side, and slowly lowered my butt until I was sitting on top of his back.

"Shit, Candy!" he groaned. Impressively though, he managed to maintain his form for the most part.

"See what you can do with the added weight," I commanded, taking another bite of cheese puff.

He pushed himself up, fully extending his arms, then lowered himself once more. Then he brought our weight back up with seemingly little effort.

"It's raining cheese puff crumbs down here," he said between breaths.

"Sorry," I replied, tossing the bag to the side. I placed both of my hands on his shoulders and held on loosely as he pushed us both up and down.

"You smell nice," he grunted after a few more push-ups. "Like flowers and...well, chips." I blushed.

"So not gonna lie, Jet, this is...pretty impressive," I said. I felt his back muscles contract underneath my ass.

"Well you're not giving me all your weight," he said. "Lean forward on me a little bit." I did as he asked. When I did, I found myself with my clitoris resting right up against him.

"That's better," he said as he continued his workout.

"I'll say," I breathed softly, holding on to my brother's bare, sweaty back as he lifted me up and down like a powerful bull. I kept myself as still as possible, for any type of movement on my part would have led to a definite grinding scenario. That, of course, would have probably led to questions on his part.

Something about the way I was positioned, despite my efforts to the contrary, was causing my clit to get mildly stimulated. I shifted slightly, trying to reposition myself, but an upward thrust from Jet caused my clit to fall even more squarely on top of him.

Out of pure animal instinct, I rolled my hips forward just a bit. My eyes rolled into the back of my head in pleasure at the stimulation. Heat radiated off of Jet's back, threatening to melt right through my panties. Just as I considered grinding on him further, however, he stopped. I was thankful and devastated at once.

"And fifty," he said before collapsing to the floor. I remained on top of him, still straddling his back and turned on as all get-out. Jet's sweaty back and my own wetness had saturated my underwear to the point where I didn't know where my fluids began and his ended.