Sister Golden Hair

"Jesus, Jet, that was...really amazing," I breathed, still not leaving my perch on top of his collapsed mass.

"Thanks," he breathed. "It was pretty tough, actually. I'd like to try it again if you're open, though."

"Yeah I could go again," I said, feeling my vagina pulse slightly at the thought.

"Oh, well I meant like next time I do push-ups," he said. "I think I'm pretty much wiped for the night."

"Oh, right." I didn't move, deciding Jet's muscular back was too comfortable of a perch to give up.

"So, uh...you trying to ride me or something?" he asked after a while.

"What!?" I replied quickly, unsure of his meaning.

"You know, like a horse? You're just sitting there like you think I'm gonna lift up and carry you on my back to your room."

"Oh! Uh...sorry!" Reluctantly, I lifted myself off of him and stood to the side as he got himself off the floor. We stood side by side for a moment, looking at each other. I was in such a horny state that I almost made a very bad decision and leaned my mouth forward towards his, but thankfully he saved me before I did and stepped away.

"Alright, well I'm gonna shower and go to bed, I think," he said as he put his weights back in the closet. "You good to turn everything off when you're done in here?"

"Sure," I said softly, taking his body in once more before he left.

"'Nite, Candy," he said with a smile before turning to leave. I collapsed onto the sofa and stared up at the ceiling as I tried to process the last fifteen minutes or so of my life. My intent had been to entice him further so that he'd confess to me, as Irish of course, all of his pent up attraction towards his sister. Now here I lay, a horny mess, unable to get my brother's ripped, sweaty body out of my head. I feared I had fanned my own flames of brotherly desire.

*****

The next morning I woke up to a wonderful surprise. I saw that Jet had sent me the final edit of his story. I was pretty shocked to see that the story had been sent at all, given that I knew for a fact that "Irish" had been up past midnight exercising. I looked at the time that he sent his message to me with the attachment and saw that is was 5:54 in the morning. I felt a tingle in my stomach at the idea that maybe he had been turned on during his time with me, much like I had, and had a spark of creativity that he just had to take advantage of. Whatever the reasoning, I was stoked.

I didn't really pay much attention to any of my teachers, or friends, at school that day, stealing every free moment I had to secretly read through the text of Jet's story on my phone. The story was considerably longer than the original version had been, and there were lots of changes that he had made to the original plot.

During my English class, phone placed strategically on my notebook and out of sight, I was taken aback at a particular scene involving the sibling characters whose names were still Greg and Brenda. During a photo shoot, Greg was trying to adjust Brenda's position. At one point, he turned and accidentally bumped into a tall light that he was using on the photo shoot, causing the light to topple over and crash into Brenda's head. She passed out briefly, and when she came to, Greg was carrying her in his arms.

"Holy shit," I whispered to myself. It was eerily similar to my own experience with Jet. Did he use the football incident as motivation, I wondered?

"What's up with you today?" Ally asked me out of the side of her mouth.

I let myself check back into reality, quickly clicking a button on my phone to make it go black. "What do you mean?" I asked back quietly.

"You've been staring at your phone all day. You never do that."

"Oh, just...reading a story." Not only was that true, but it sounded uninteresting enough to hopefully not lead to a follow up question.

"Ooh, what story?" she asked immediately. So much for that, I thought.

"Uhh..." I said, thinking as quickly as I could. "The history of cheese. Nonfiction thing about...the history of cheese."

She looked at me like I was absolutely bonkers, and I really didn't blame her. "Alright," she said slowly. "Why-"

"Girls, are you with us?" my English teacher asked suddenly.

"Yes Mrs. Gruble," we said in unison. Thank you Mrs. Gruble, I thought to myself.

During my free period at the end of the day, which I thankfully did not share with Ally, I was able to binge the rest of the story without being interrupted. Towards the end, there was a scene where Brenda left her bedroom and went into the kitchen to get a glass of water. What was she wearing?

Underwear and a t-shirt.

"Interesting," I said to myself, recalling a couple of instances recently where that same thing had happened to us. It wasn't until the next scene when I felt a shocking jolt of familiarity that nearly knocked me out of my chair.

Jet had clearly taken my advice on the whole plot development thing, because up to this point in the story, the characters hadn't so much as kissed, and the story was almost over. I was just starting to get worried that they were going to run out of time when something amazing happened. Brenda walked into the living room to find her brother working out. Shirtless.

"Fuuuuuuck," I said to myself a little louder than intended, drawing interested stares from nearby students. I ignored them and continued reading.

"No way," I thought to myself. There was no way that he would use the exact interaction we had had the previous night in his story, right?

But I soon found out that he sure as shit did. Greg did pushups. Brenda teased him some, and even retrieved a bag of potato chips.

"Okay, well I had cheese puffs," I said to myself. After several pushups, Brenda mentioned that his workout wasn't intense enough, stood up, and sat down on his back. Greg lifted his weight and hers into the air several times while Brenda sat on his back. This was the point where the story took a considerable turn from what we had done. Brenda was blatantly grinding her underwear clad groin hard into his body, no regard for how obvious she was being. Greg pushed himself up one final time, turned his body over, and grabbed his sister around her waist, holding on to her as she grinded herself against him to an intense orgasm. The final paragraphs were dedicated to a very erotic scene between the siblings, involving everything from kissing to oral to finally, penetration.

"Wow," I breathed as I read the final words, trying hard to keep my hand from pushing against my soaked vagina.

He was turned on last night by me. I just knew it. Why else would he have used that moment in the climactic scene of his story?

Had he wanted to do to me what Greg did to Brenda? Is that what this meant? Did my brother want to fuck me?

As those exact words went through my head, I felt my pussy ache with longing. The idea that Jet wanted to do sexual things to me was suddenly just exactly what I wanted. I simply couldn't deny it anymore.

Knowing that at least a part of him was turned on by me was more than I could handle at school, so I went to the office and checked out, faking a slight illness. I went straight home and directly back to my room, thankfully not seeing Jet on my way there.

Part of me wanted to strip my clothes off, lay under my blanket and pleasure myself for the next several hours as I ran through scenarios involving myself and a certain shirtless big brother of mine. Actually, he would be more than just shirtless.

I decided to use that time more efficiently, however, and think about stuff. I considered briefly just brazenly starting to flirt. I wondered if he would like it if I randomly started sitting in his lap, especially if I was in my underwear again.

In the end, after lots of fun thoughts and a little touching of myself, I concluded that any blatant flirting or otherwise on my part may just scare him straight, and I definitely didn't want that. I decided that a combination of subtlety and communication with Irish would be the best route.

"You there?" I typed to him through our usual message thread.

"Hey Toxic Sunshine," he wrote back. "I was wondering when you'd get back to me. I was beginning to think that you hated the story and didn't want to hurt my feelings."

"Oh no, Irish," I replied. "I fucking loved the story. The buildup was perfection, and that final scene...oh man."

"Pretty hot, right?"

"Yeah! It was SO hot, and somehow so real. Where did you get the motivation to even write a scene like that?" I smiled at my sneakiness.

"Motivation?" he replied after a brief pause. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what inspired you to write a scene about Brenda sitting on Greg's back while he does pushups? And in her underwear no less...It was just really hot. Has anything like that happened to you before?"

Another pause, this one longer than the last. "Nope, can't say that it has," he said finally. "I wish though."

"You wish?"

"Well...sure."

"You mean...with your sister?"

"You starting back up with that again?"

"Just curious. You can say no if it's not true."

I didn't get a response for several minutes, which made sense because I heard Jet leave his room briefly and go into the bathroom. Once he got back to his room, I got another message. "I will neither confirm nor deny. I will say, however, that Brenda is definitely not based on my sister."

"You mean the sister with the great ass?" I responded. "Or a different sister?"

"Just the one sister, and I don't recall saying anything about a great ass. Legs are all I talked about."

"Do you not like her ass?"

"Maybe I don't look at her ass. You know, sister and all."

"But maybe you have?"

I waited with anticipation. "Maybe..."

"And?"

"I'll just say that...her ass goes real nice with her perfect legs."

"Oh wow," I replied. "Can I tell you something, Irish?"

"Of course."

"As turned on as I was by your story...the thought of you and your sister potentially fooling around is doing it for me even more. I literally can't stop thinking about it." This was true, I thought.

"We aren't fooling around, though."

"The thought of it, I said. Am I alone on that?"

"What do you see when you imagine me and my sister? I mean, for all you know, we are hideously unattractive people."

"For one thing, you've already described your sister's legs and ass as perfect. And for another thing, am I right to assume that you guys look a lot like Greg and Brenda as described in your story?" Of course I already knew that was the case, but I wanted to hear him say it.

"There may be some similarities. Although my sister's hair is black, unlike the golden hair of Brenda."

"Oh really?" I thought it interesting that he go out of his way to bring that up. "Do you prefer blondes to dark hair?"

"It's not really a preference thing, just that I love my sister's natural look. Something that I've shared with her recently, actually. She has natural blonde hair. Yes, just like Brenda in the story. She insists on keeping it anything other than blonde, though. Sometimes I wish she'd just put it back the way it was, just so I can see it. Kind of selfish of me, I guess, but there you go."

"Interesting," I replied, glancing in the mirror and running my hand through my black hair.

"So anyway," he began, "did you find any issues with the story? If we can take a break from talking about me fooling around with my sister, of course."

"I suppose we can do that," I replied. "I saw some spelling and grammar issues, but dude, other than that, it was spot on. I wouldn't change a thing. I'll send you my sparse notes on the edits, then I guess you can submit and see what happens."

"Cool," he responded. "Thanks again for editing for me, Toxic Sunshine."

"It's seriously my pleasure," I said.

"You know, it's funny..." he began.

"Yes?"

"Two strangers, drawn together by a mutual interest in reading about the characters of Saved By The Bell banging each other. I do a 180 and write a story about a brother and sister doing it, and damned if you don't love that, too. I mean...what are the chances?"

"'Twas kismet, my friend," I replied.

"It's just...it's really cool to have met you. Actually, I find myself hoping that maybe one day I will get to meet you."

"Careful what you wish for, Irish," I replied, laughing to myself.

"Haha, yeah I guess so," he wrote back. We said our goodbyes. Then, I immediately went into the bathroom, rummaged under the sink, found what I needed, and hopped into the shower.

Later that night, after my parents were in bed, I moseyed out of my room and into the living room, this time opting for actual shorts, paired with one of Jet's hoodies from college, which was gigantic on me.

"Hey Jet!" I said to him as I entered the living room, purposely sounding overly perky so as to get his attention.

"Hey Candy," he replied, looking over at me. His eyes immediately shot up to the top of my head. "Oh wow!" he exclaimed.

"You like?" I said, pushing my fingers through my newly blonde hair.

"I love it!" he replied. "It looks so...so you!"

"Well...thanks?"

"You look amazing, seriously. So you just dyed it back blonde?"

"Washed out the black hair dye, actually. This is my legit hair color now."

"I didn't know you could wash out hair dye."

"Certain types. I always use temporary hair dye due to my intense indecision. I never know when I'm gonna get tired of a certain color, you know? Anyway, it took a few washes with a particularly powerful shampoo, but it finally came out."

"Well I seriously love it, Candy."

"Yeah, I'm pretty fond of it myself, I find."

He hadn't stopped staring at me since I entered the living room. I didn't care. I just stood there and let him look, basking in his gaze.

"So you going with the whole panties thing again tonight?" he asked, glancing down at the bottom of the hoodie. I looked down and saw that the hoodie was so long on me that it probably did look like I was wearing nothing but panties underneath it.

"Nope, I remembered my shorts tonight," I said, lifting up the sweatshirt to show him my tiny little pink shorts that I had worn several days prior in front of him.

"Oh, well...good job remembering," he said. Something on his face screamed disappointment, which made me inwardly quite happy.

"So what are you doing?" I asked. "Getting ready to work out again?"

"Yeah, I guess so," he said, sounding unmotivated. "You're welcome to hang out, though. Maybe even weigh me down again if you want to."

I laughed. "I think I'll pass tonight, actually," I said. "I'm pretty tired. I just came in to say goodnight and show off my new look." Then I made a moderately bold move. I walked up behind him where he sat in his chair, leaned over, and hugged his neck, letting my hair dangle just so that it brushed up lightly against his cheek. Then I turned and kissed his cheek softly, wetting my lips before I did. I let my mouth purposely linger on his face just a fraction of a second longer than I thought he would expect, patted him lightly on his firm chest, and pulled away. "Good night, big bro," I said softly, turning to leave.

"Hey Candy?" he called out to me just as I was leaving the room.

Guess that got his attention, I thought. "Yes?" I replied, turning back to face him.

He had a look of reluctance on his face, but pushed forward anyway. "What...what made you dye your hair back?" he asked finally.

I shrugged. "Just thought a change was due, I guess."

"Yeah, but...today of all days," he said, almost more to himself than to me.

"What's so significant about today?" I asked, knowing full well exactly what he meant.

He looked at me suspiciously once more, as if wanting to ask me something. Then finally he shook his head and snapped out of his stupor. "Eh, it's nothing," he said. "Goodnight, Candy."

"G'nite!" I said sweetly as I turned to leave.

It was fun toying with him. Maybe he'd find out soon who I was, or maybe it would take him a while. I had come to peace with the fact that it would definitely happen eventually, and in the meantime I was going to enjoy every bit of fun that I could have with the situation.

*****

"You've gotten so many great comments, Irish!" I typed during our online conversation the next night. His story had posted and gotten some decent feedback.

"You're playing it a little fast and loose with the phrase 'so many', Toxic Sunshine," he replied. "I've gotten like 5 comments. One of them was from you, and another one told me that I should eat shit and kill myself."

"But the other ones were totally positive!" I said. "You should be proud of yourself." The truth was that I was very proud of Jet, maybe for the first time. I couldn't really relate to his football success, but as an amateur writer myself, this was very exciting.

It would have been easy for me to take the usual jealous sister route, but I honestly, and surprisingly, felt no jealousy whatsoever. Even if Jet was once again outshining me, I just didn't care. I was genuinely happy for him.

"Well, I did double my followers," he wrote back. "Granted I only had seven to begin with, but still."

"There you go! And it just posted today, so there's lots more time to get good feedback."

"Yeah, I guess I can go ahead and chalk this one up as a success."

"Absolutely! Now, let's talk details about your next story."

"Jeez, already? Can't I bask in the mild success of Sister Golden Hair for a day or so before I start planning out something else?"

"Nope. No basking, no breaks. Just work, work, work. So first and foremost, I assume you're going to do another brother/sister story, right?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, aren't you?"

"I mean, yeah. But it's not like it was just a given."

"Sure it was. So what ideas do you have about it?"

"None ideas, toots."

"Well that's fine, because I have one. I was thinking that it would be pretty cool if the brother character was super fit in the next story."

"That's not really an idea...you're just stating a characteristic. It's also kinda cliché for a sex story, right?"

"I don't think it's cliché. I'm talking super duper fit, like maybe...a professional athlete?"

"Oh really?" he replied simply. I smiled to myself at the idea of Jet sitting in his room squirming uncomfortably at how close to home I was getting.

"Yeah. A tall guy, one who could easily tower over his sister. He'd be very muscular, but also lean. We don't want him too bulky. I was thinking a football player would be a good idea. That would leave lots of room for a few testicle jokes in there. You know, balls? What do you think?"

He didn't respond for a moment. "Sure, I guess," he typed back finally. "Still not seeing an idea here."

"We'll get to that, Irish. Just help me figure out more about this brother character. So he's a professional football player, but what position does he play?"

"How should I know? This is your 'idea'."

"Let's just stick with quarterback, then. Most people at least would be familiar enough with that position. He's a professional quarterback. Sound good?"

"Okay...so is the sister like a cheerleader or something?"

"Nah, that's too easy. Let's just make her a high school student in her senior year. Give them a few years gap in their ages." I could just see Jet sweating bullets as he read each new thing that I typed, wondering how in the world I was seemingly describing his life. "Maybe we could play a scenario where she's envious of his success or something. Thoughts?"

A bigger pause followed this last comment. "We could," he wrote finally.

I laughed quietly to myself. "You're not giving me much here, Irish. Any ideas yet? Or better yet, is there anything in your own personal life between you and your sister you could include? Does any of this resonate with you so far?" Perhaps I was being too bold, but in the moment I absolutely didn't give a fuck.