Slippery slopes

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Moving in to help sister after her divorce.
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This story is a good hour long, and progresses slowly. As always, I look for proofreaders for my stories to make sure they meet the quality this site deserves.

Slippery slopes

I know the expression that family comes first, but I don't think they meant the orgasm I'd just given my sister is what they meant.

Do we regret it? No, although I'm sure there will be some soul searching to come. How did we get there? And was it planned or just simply stepping stones that made it inevitable?

A beginning

I suppose all this started with a confluence of events that occurred over the last 4 months. Starting off with the shocking declaration that my younger sister Pam was getting divorced. I suspected that her marriage was not as rosy as she painted it, but some of that might have been me projecting after my own divorce over 2 years ago.

At the time, I'd been a mess and my parents insisted I move back in with them rather than jump into getting a new place too quickly. They were right as I'd see two many men my age who went off the rails and spent money like water and dated inappropriately young women.

Naturally, my sister ribbed me about moving back into our parents' home when I was 38, but I told her to wait until she was in the same situation. Something I regret now, of course. Originally, I'd intended to only stay a month or two, but I discovered my parents, both in their 70s, had fallen for the idea of a gated retirement community.

My father wanted to fix up the house and then sell it. But being dad, he refused mum's idea to get all of their stuff put into storage and take an extended holiday while the builders blitzed through 20-plus years of neglected maintenance. Despite having no experience, he wanted to do the work himself.

I was trained as an engineer and I'm good with my hands and problem solving, but I'd been pushed into management and I offered to help dad with the house. Partially to get my hands dirty again, but mostly to stop him knocking more off the value of the house by his shoddy work.

Living with my parents as an adult was weird, but not as bad as I feared. Their only stipulation was no lady friend visitors. Which, after my divorce, was something I had little interest in.

Every day after we heard about Pam's upcoming divorce, mum would go on and on about how bad she must be feeling. But as we lived on the other side of the country and she was afraid of flying, there was no way she could persuade dad to drive cross-country to visit her.

Then something came up at work. One of our branches had their two senior managers leave at the same time. Leaving the branch rudderless, as nobody else was experienced enough to do more than basic day to day work. My boss called for volunteers to be seconded there for 3 to 6 months and nobody picked up the offer.

Times were tough and it was as likely that whoever went would simply go there to shut the branch and sack all the staff. Which was not something anyone wanted to do. As the boss got more exasperated, I read the writing on the wall and put myself forward. We were bloated with middle to upper managers in our branch and taking one for the company would improve my chances if there were layoffs in the future.

At least I was single with no kids to worry about, so it would be easier for me. Until I found out my living allowances would be negligible. Which came as quite a blow as my parents had not charged me rent, claiming my work renovating the house was rent enough.

Then my mum came up with a Machiavellian scheme, which was quite impressive. Pam had bought a rundown one bed home and hadn't the money to spare to get it fixed up. Mum suggested that I stay with her as the branch I was going to was driving distance from her place. I could sleep on the couch and in my evenings and weekends help fix up Pam's new home as I'd done with my parents.

This also meant I'd be there to support my sister and report back daily to tell mum how she was really doing.

My sister and I had been close as kids, right up until she reached puberty. From that point, she was moody and irritable. Likely to go off on one at a moment's notice and I was advised by my parent's to avoid her if possible. Something I took to heart, but it was hard in our small three bed house.

Just after she turned 18, and I was 20, I moved out to share a house with friends and we hardly saw each other. When I visited home, she was always out with friends. So we only met up at family events like anniversaries, birthdays and weddings. At my wedding she warned me I'd made a mistake, and it turned out she was right. But it took me 10 years to figure that out myself.

I spent several hours talking to my sister about mum's proposed plan, the longest I'd talked to her combined in the last 20 years and worked out if it was a good idea. Although we both carefully avoided talking about the details of our marriages failing.

I was worried that she'd want to start dating again. As a girl, she never went without a boyfriend for more than a few days. Sleeping on her sofa would be an issue if she were. But she admitted she had absolutely no desire to think about that for a long time to come.

She asked about my dating life and I admitted that I'd only dated a few times. I didn't mention that a few female work colleagues and even a couple of my ex-wife's friends threw me a sympathy fuck a few times. But apart from the sex, I wasn't interest in more, and neither were they.

The day before I was due to leave, I felt a definite air of hostility from the other member of staff, who had finally figured out my motivation and regretted their reluctance. Especially as our boss was treating me like a hero. In private, he promised if I could rescue the branch, he'd fight through hell and high water to get me a substantial bonus.

My sister had warned me that her place was pretty small and I packed light and drove across the country to visit her for the first time. The drive was long, but problem free, and I arrived in her little community a couple of hours ahead of schedule.

About 25 years ago, some property developers had spotted a niche in the market for smaller homes in a community setting. First-time buyers, divorcees, even retiree friendly. They'd made the roads one way and narrow, but included plenty of walkways between the houses and clusters of commercial areas within walking distance. The idea was you could walk to get your day to day needs rather than use up valuable space for extra parking.

If you wanted milk or a morning newspaper, it was a few minutes' walk. Or you wanted a bar or restaurant, the same. OK, the houses were small and tightly packed, but it was a good idea.

A new home

When I pulled my car up next to my sisters, I was thinking that something like this would suit me. I'd have to see if there was anything near where I worked the same. Now I've finished repairing my parent's place.

Pam opened the door and looked at me in surprise. In my mind, I saw two versions of my sister. The one I remembered before I'd left home when she was 18 and the 38-year-old version in front of me. At 18 she was slim and pretty, her face a little too pointy to be beautiful. Now she'd filled out, and I found her attractive. Which was a weird thought.

"You're early Josh. I didn't expect you for hours. Sorry you caught me like this."

She gestured down to her outfit of yoga pants and a sports bra.

"It's OK sis, I've seen you in less." I grinned, and she rolled her eyes and let me in.

"That was forever ago. I'm surprised you remembered."

"Getting to see your 18-year-old sister wet and naked from the shower, even if only for an instant, tends to stick with you."

"Pervert." She taunted, but with amusement. "Wanna coffee, or would you prefer a beer?"

"Beer for preference."

"I'm sure you can find the fridge. I'm certainly not going to be waiting on you hand and foot, like I'm sure mum has been doing for the last couple of years."

"Hey, she's not that bad. Although dad needs a new Butler's uniform, his current one is fraying."

Pam gave me a shoulder bump in acknowledgement and I realised I'd missed those. They'd dried up when she was about 13. Prior to that, it was our usual way of communicating.

She moved over to the space in front of the TV and bent to pick up her yoga mat. Without meaning to, I gawked at her backside in the yoga pants. They were the style that went up the butt crack that made it look like you were naked with body paint instead of fully clothed.

"I suppose I'm going to have to find another way to get fit if you're about."

"You don't look too bad, sis."

"Damning with faint praise, big brother."

"You know what I meant."

"No, seriously, I'm not that bad, am I?" She looked at me with a worried look.

"What do you mean?"

"This?" She grabbed her belly fat and squashed it up to make it look worse.

"No, sis, you're looking good. Everyone one carries a few extra pounds these days. For our age, you're pretty decent."

"You don't seem to have put on any, from what I can tell."

"I jog every day and swim when I can. Why are you worried about your weight?"

"After our conversation about dating, it set my thinking and while I'm not looking for anything now, I'm not about to give up on all men just because I chose a crap one."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not now, but thanks for the offer. I bet that was hard for you to make that offer."

"What do you mean?"

"You always were emotionally constipated."

"Hey, that's harsh." She raised an eyebrow. "OK, I'm not saying it wasn't true, but it's still harsh. And I've matured now. I hardly ever tell dick jokes."

She chuckled. "I'm gonna shower. Want me to show you around first?"

There was not a lot of showing required. There was the living room containing the kitchenette and dining area. Her bedroom, a utility room with a washer, dryer and large freezer. And finally, the bathroom. Which was an odd shape to accommodate the utility room. A walk-in shower faced the door, and there was a large bath against one wall and the toilet and basin on the other.

"No lock I see." I commented.

"Just like the old days." She replied, and we both knew what the other was thinking.

Back when we grew up, because there was only one bathroom, it was the house rule that if someone was in the shower, and you really needed to go. It was fine to use the toilet to pee, as the shower curtain blocked any view. Provided you asked first, and didn't flush.

It wasn't something I did often, after my dad had teased me. Saying it sounded like a racehorse peeing when I did. Which gave me a bashful bladder. But I remember, not long after I turned 18, I was desperate to relieve myself and thinking about my girlfriend, and our next date. Then suddenly, having a few weird thoughts and feelings about my mum in the shower. Wet and naked, but talking about my homework or such things.

The incident with my sister was mostly due to me blaring away, wearing headphones and walking into the bathroom while not knowing Pam was in there. I'd stepped through the door just as she pulled aside the opaque shower curtain hanging over the bath. She'd let out a squeal, and I'd legged it to my room in shock.

It came as quite a blow to suddenly realise that my sister was a sexual being. I was just thinking of her as a floating head on some androgynous body. I'd never wondered about her tits or shaved pussy. Damn, why did I have to remember that detail?

That night I insisted my sister show me around the community and we dined out at a pizza place and grabbed a beer in the sports bar. Pam smirked as I looked on in wonder at the skimpy shorts and shirts the waitresses wore.

"Don't get out much?" She asked over the music.

"Now really. One downside of living with the 'rents'."

She grinned and sighed. Then we switched the topic to talk about how our parents were doing. When we got home, she went to bed, and I lay out on the couch. Which was large and surprisingly comfortable.

When I awoke at first light, I changed into my running gear and picked up the spare key Pam had left for me, and went for my morning run. Exploring all the little footpaths was fun, and I returned about an hour later.

Letting myself inside, I saw Pam standing in front of the open fridge drinking OJ from the cartoon.

"Mum would give you a bollocking if she caught you doing that."

Pam jumped and turned to face me.

"Fuck, you gave me a fright. Shit." The last was added as she realised what she was wearing or not wearing.

She wore pink panties and a thin t-shirt that left her midriff a little exposed. The cool air from the fridge had raised her nipples, and the shirt did little to hide them. Pam rushed to her room, and I wandered over and talked through the door at her.

"Look, Pam, it's your place. You can wander around in whatever you want."

"You just want to see me half naked again." She called back, amused.

"NO, I'm serious. If you want to keep doing your exercises, then you should. If you're uncomfortable with me being about, then we can arrange times when I can be out. But I might be able to help."

Pam emerged in a skirt and a denim shirt over the t-shirt. "What do you mean?"

"My ex-wife used to do yoga and pilates and that sort of crap. Sometimes I'd help her with her poses and stretching. Of course, if I knew she was doing all that for the benefit of another guy, I might not have been so enthusiastic."

"Mum told me some of the details. I'm sorry Josh."

She hugged me, and after a moment, I returned the hug. But after a few seconds, it got awkward.

"I'm all sweaty from my run." I said and pulled back.

"I know, but I can't remember the last time we hugged. We did it so much as kids. Why did we stop?"

"You got those." I pointed at her breasts.

"You stopped hugging me because I started to get boobs?"

"And you kinda turned into an unstable landmine to be around."

"I wasn't that bad."

"I've still got shrapnel wounds." I replied and pulled up my t-shirt as if to show off the metaphorical scars.

"Ripped much, bro." Pam replied and poked my stomach.

Not quite a six-pack, but pretty respectable. It felt awkward again, and I headed into the bathroom and stepped into the shower. I'd forgotten to unpack my toiletries and ended up having to use her shower gel. Hoping it didn't smell too girly.

I was most of the way through with my shower when the bathroom door opened and Pam strode in.

"Jesus Pam. What are you doing?"

"I'm bursting for a pee and you were taking too long."

Luckily, my back was to her as I strained to look over my shoulder. The toilet was out of sight from the shower, but I saw her turn and a momentary glimpse of her naked backside as she lifted her skirt and sat.

"We used to do this all the time growing up."

"Yeah, but back then, the shower curtains blocked the view."

"So what, it's not like we've not seen each other naked."

"That's different."

We both remembered the shower incident and the consequent result. I was pacing in my room when she appeared wrapped in a towel and swearing and screaming at me. Even though it was an accident, I apologise. I was wearing headphones and hadn't heard the shower. She accused me of being a pervert and said that I'd been planning on seeing her naked.

Which was rather hypocritical, as her solution not to tell our parents was to demand that she saw me naked as well. I knew mum would understand, but dad would likely go off on one. He believed Pam's stories even when they were obviously false. She could work up some bollocks and get me into enough trouble that he might kick me out of the house. My wages at the time were nothing like enough to pay rent, so that and that I felt guilty, even if it was an accident. I agreed to do it.

Stripping down to my boxer shorts wasn't a big deal as even mum and dad would wander around the house in their underwear from time to time. But slipping my boxer shorts off was hard. Which was a poor choice of words, as my penis had seen a naked woman and assumed it would be required to do something with it. It wasn't hard, but I wasn't entirely flaccid.

I tried to beg off and promise to do it later, but she refused and I turned my back and slipped off my boxer shorts, then turned around. Despite the embarrassment, it was satisfying to see her eyes widen as she saw my dick. I counted 5 seconds before diving under the duvet and covering myself up. When she complained, I told her I'd seen her for a moment and not as long as she'd seen me.

"Look Josh, this is a tiny house and we're going to be on top of each other all the time." I saw her stand and wipe, then step fully into view. "I figured this was bound to happen sooner or later, so I just thought we'd get it out of the way. And you did say it was my house and I should be comfortable doing my things."

"Is that it?"

"One last thing and I'll leave you to it. You do have a hell of an arse." she chuckled and turned to leave.

"Pam!" I yelled, half way between annoyance and amusement.

The door closed, and I tried to relax. Or at least most of me did. My dick had decided that a woman walking into the bathroom while I was shower, was an invitation that his services would be required sooner or later. Swearing under my breath, I finished my shower and wrapped myself in a towel.

As I walked into the other room, Pam was sitting at the breakfast bar with a coffee and cereal.

"I preferred your other outfit."

I stuck my tongue out and grabbed my keys and stepped out to the car to grab the bags I'd left yesterday. However, it was a struggle to carry them and a danger that my towel would come loose. Certainly a memorable way to introduce myself to the neighbourhood.

'Have you seen the new guy yet?', 'I've not seen him, but I saw his arse.' I shook my head as I stepped back inside and grabbed some clothes.

Stepping into the utility room to dress. By the time I returned in my suit and ties, Pam was changed for her job as a teacher.

"We need to talk about the work you want to do here tonight." I said.

"My, don't you look handsome in a suit?"

"Thanks. You're not bad yourself."

"Yeah, right? It's not good for a teacher to dress to impress."

"See ya later." I called out as I left for work.

Which was chaos.

A bad diagnosis

Half the staff were belligerent that I'd been sent across the country as if they couldn't run the branch, and the other half were convinced I was going to can everyone and hated me on principle. The only one that was reasonable was my PA. Emily was a woman close to retirement and who was far more capable than anyone else I saw that day.

I came close to firing a dozen people for their attitude that day and only Emily kept me calm and I didn't get home until after 8 pm. I expected Pam to be annoyed with me, but she was pacing the lounge and looking upset. When I asked her why, she explained that her ex had collapsed at work and been rushed to the hospital.

She'd been contacted as she was still down as his emergency contact. By the time she got to the hospital, she found he'd been diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumour and he was in a coma. When she asked about symptoms, she was told that it would be sudden mood changes and unexplained rages.

Pam suddenly realised that the things that had ended her marriage had been because of a medical condition and not her EXs fault. She wept in my arms for a long time before falling asleep on the couch next to me.

Around midnight, I scooped her up and carried her to bed. I took her shoes and socks off and slipped her under the covers and turned to go.

"Wait, I don't want to be alone. Can you hold my hand for a bit?" She asked, and I lay next to her and took her hand until she eventually went to sleep.

Then I returned to the couch and lay awake for a long time.