Big Girls Don't Cry Ch. 01

This is my first attempt at a non-brother/sister incest story, so honest opinon would be appreciated.

Many thanks to Mricemen1964 and Firefly Girl for their sense of reality and willingness to assist me in making this story happen, and for not being afraid to tell me when they thought I was full of it. Thanks, Guys, love you both...

If you liked it, please rate it, if not, let me know why, I promise I will always listen, even if I don't always agree!

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So here I am, hammering my cock into my kid sister, and my aunt loves every second of it. I kiss my sister hungrily as I pound into her, and my aunt kisses me back just as needily. Confused? I was, so let me clue you in, by beginning at the beginning.

I grew up in Bristol in the 1980's, in Clifton, the elegant Regency-period town-within-the-town at the top of the Avon Gorge, in the west of England. I had only one sibling, a sister, Marlene, Lena for short, who was just under a year younger than me. We lived in a huge, echoing, icy-cold Georgian house near Clifton College and the famous Clifton suspension bridge, attended the local Catholic primary school, and maintained the usual older brother/annoying little sister relationship that one would expect from our normal background and family life.

Dad worked at Rolls-Royce, in the engine division at Filton, precision machining blades for jet turbines. Mum was a Head Nurse in the Renal Unit at the Bristol Royal Infirmary in the centre of Bristol, not too far from where we lived. When I left Primary School and moved into Secondary School, Lena was devastated. Every day of her entire school life, I'd taken her to school, sat with her in the dining hall for lunch, and then brought her home with me in the afternoon, and now she'd have to do that journey and spend the day alone, for a whole year. She was not happy, and the thing about Lena is, when she's not happy, she gets democratic and makes sure everybody gets some, so there was a lot of ill-feeling and tantrums. The only bright spot (for her) was that my new school, over in Long Ashton, gave out 45 minutes before her school, so I had time to get home and go and collect her, and this became my routine.

I honestly never minded; Lena was a pretty little girl, tall for her age, with long, straight, bright chestnut hair cut in bangs, and piercing blue eyes, just like mum (and nothing like me, which should have given me pause for thought; I had dusty blonde hair, and green eyes; dad had light brown hair and blue eyes too, so I should have wondered where my green eyes came from; but I never did), and she would tell me of her day, hold my hand when we crossed the road, and basically enjoy as much of my time as I was able to give her.

It turned out to be quite a lot; dad's workplace was way across the other side of town, and mum worked unpredictable and irregular shifts, so Lena and I would be home first most of the time, so we'd do whatever homework we had, and usually be finished by the time dad came in, around 6pm or so. Dad would start dinner, and collapse exhausted in a recliner while Lena and I would potter around, talk, watch TV while keeping an eye on whatever was cooking, and generally kill time until mum came home. Not an exciting life, but a normal one.

When Lena hit 11, she moved up into secondary school, and she of course elected to attend my school, no surprises there. As I was now one year ahead of her, (Year Seven) I was becoming allergic to her presence; I was starting to hit that age when girls become...interesting, and the last thing I needed when I was trying to look all windswept and interestingly cool to Year Seven girls was to have my Year Six sister hanging around me all the time. As I got older, it got worse, and I started telling her to leave me alone, to get lost, and I took to avoiding her as my embarrassment at having her hanging around me grew. Now, when I look back on how I was with her, I hate myself; she was my little sister, and for years I'd been the centre of her world, and now here I was, pushing her away, and not being too polite about it either.

I didn't pick up on this, of course; all I knew was that I'd come home from school, alone, having ducked her somewhere, then hear her slam in and run up to her room and start crying, but it never occurred to me that it was me making her cry. And it never occurred to me to go and comfort her; that wasn't my job anymore, I was a grown-up now. Yes, I know, don't judge, you were a young teen boy yourself once.

I never noticed she was growing, either, I never noticed anything about her these days, self-absorbed little tick that I was, and Lena was becoming more and more attractive as she got older. When I was 16, one of my classmates told me he was going to ask Lena out. I was a little puzzled as to why he'd want to ask out a Year 10, when he was a Year 11, and he looked at me like I was stupid.

"Because Lena's a real looker, that's why! Any objections if I ask her out?"

I said something along the lines of "why are you telling me, I don't care, just keep your hands to yourself!" and off he went to ask her out to the cinema that night. A couple of hours later, our paths crossed and I remembered that he was going to ask my sister out.

"So what did she say?" I asked him, more out of something to say than any real interest.

"She asked me what you said, so I told her you said you didn't care, and she got mad at me, and started crying and stormed off like I just spat on her or something. Your sister's a fruit loop, did you know that?" he said nastily, so I dragged him around a corner and smacked him around a little, just to remind him to watch what he said about my sister, but it was automatic outrage, done because it was expected of me, not because I felt he was impugning my sister – I truly thought I didn't care what he said about her.

When I got home that afternoon, delayed because of cricket practice, Lena was already home, locked away in her room, so I left her to it, and got down to my homework. I heard mum come in, then dad, and soon I started smelling dinner being prepared. I was miles away in my history homework when a knock on my door brought me back to the present day.

"Come in!" I called and when no-one did I walked over and opened the door. Lena was standing there, her face tear stained and her eyes red, so I asked her what the problem was.

"Darryl, why do you hate me?" she asked me flatly, catching me off-balance, so I blustered a reply.

"Don't be so daft, I don't hate you, what a stupid question!"

She looked ready to cry again. "You do hate me, you won't talk to me, you avoid me, you're rude to me all the time, you're always angry with me. Why are you so angry with me, Darryl? I never did anything to you, yet you won't even let me talk to you! What did I ever do to you to make you hate me so much?"

Nothing at all. She'd done absolutely nothing.

I had no answer, other than the right one, which was I'd gotten so used to ignoring her in my quest to look cool, I didn't know how else to treat her anymore. She only ever tried to be nice to me, and I treated her like she didn't exist, or I took everything out on her, when it wasn't her fault at all. Realising that only made me angry with myself, and she was standing there, the perfect target.

"Look, you half-wit, I don't hate you, but I really have no time for you or your pathetic whining, I don't care what you think, and I don't care what you do, or who you do it with, just as long as you do it somewhere else, and leave me alone! Now piss off and stop annoying me; get some friends, get a life, and stay out of mine!"

I said it to hurt, and she looked liked I'd slapped her, the tears ran down her face, and I knew I'd finally gone too far, but it was too late, the words had been said, and I couldn't recall them. All she'd wanted was some time with her big brother, for me to hug her and say "don't be silly, of course I don't hate you!" and sit down with her for five minutes, and I didn't even have that for her. Oh I'd fucked-up royally; I knew it there and then.

Lena turned and ran into her room, sobbing, and I followed her as she slammed her door. I knocked and called out to her, telling her I was sorry, but it was already too late; in her mind I'd finally told her what I really thought of her, and now I'd lost her for good. She never came down for dinner, and mum went up to see what was wrong, coming back down to stare daggers at me. She and dad had a whispered conference in the kitchen, then dad called me into the lounge.

"Darryl, just what did you say to Lena? She's upstairs having hysterics, what did you do?"

He dragged the whole thing out of me, in pieces. He and mum both knew I was uncomfortable with Lena hanging around me, and as I gave him the reasons for my outburst he looked less and less friendly.

"So she wanted to know why you turned from her big brother into the surly little prick you are now? I would guess it's because you've turned into a surly little prick. She's only 15, and she looked up to you and trusted you, and this is how you behave? In another age I'd take my belt to you, but now, you have to live with it. She looked up to you, but you had to go and tell her that you didn't care what she did, or what happened to her! You couldn't let her be your kid sister, just once in a while, even for a little while. Well, mister, you just proved how unworthy you are of the respect and trust she's been trying to give you for years. Lena's been trying for years to be part of your life, and you never let her in, not once, and now you've lost her. I hope you feel proud of what you've done; I hope it makes you feel big and manly! I'm ashamed of you; now just...just get out of my sight. And stay away from your mother; she's trying to fix what you did, and she's in no mood for your attitude and smart mouth! And you stay away from Lena, you hear me?"

I slunk up to my room. Everything he'd said was true, and now I'd have to face what I'd said and done to my only kid sister.

I didn't sleep much that night; everything I'd said, and everything dad said, rolled around continuously in my mind. When I came down for breakfast in the morning, I didn't wait for the others, for Lena, I'd been ordered to stay away from all of them, so I just grabbed a banana for breakfast and left; anyway, I couldn't face anyone, not after last night.

I spent all day trying to spot Lena in school, but had no luck, and went home as late as I could, slinking into the house and up to my room. When mum called me for dinner, I made an excuse and went to bed early. As a consequence, I got up early, so again, I took a piece of fruit for breakfast and left before anyone else was around. Again, I spent the day trying to spot Lena, and again no luck, and when I got in, I went straight to my room and skipped dinner, again – I really had no appetite anymore, I had my guilt to chew on, that kept me busy as I reflected on how completely I'd managed to throw myself out of the family.

This became my routine now, leave the house early, early, see Lena in school and avoid her, go back as late as I could, do my homework and go to bed. I think the family got used to not having me at dinner; mum would knock and call me, but I never answered, so she probably assumed I was asleep, and sometimes Lena would knock too, calling out to me. Dad would come and knock for me too, I pointedly ignored all of them; I had nothing more to do with them, and I was rapidly losing contact with them. I'd find some dinner on a tray outside my room in the morning, and I'd step over it, or take it down and leave it on the counter, take some fruit and go to school. Weekends, I'd leave early in the morning, go to the cricket nets at Bower Ashton and work on my batting form; then stay there 'til it got too dark to see the ball, and I got too tired to swing that 2 ½ lb bat any more, and then go home, let myself in, go to bed, and sleep like a stone.

I hardly ever felt hungry, either, but I did get tired more easily, I slept like a stone most of the evening and all night, and I had a lot of really bad headaches. This went on for weeks; I was in no mood or suitable frame of mind to spend time with any of my family, and other than quick glimpses of Lena at school, I never saw or spoke to any of them.

The last weeks of school-term before the summer holidays, I managed to avoid all contact with my family. I usually came in late enough that they were already engrossed in the TV, so they never heard me come in. They'd stopped calling me for dinner, or leaving me any, I never answered or ate any of it, and I'd developed the habit of moving around so quietly in my room I'm not even sure they knew I was in there. All I knew was, I'd been told they didn't want me near them anymore, and I certainly didn't want to see any of them again. I had no more homework, my GCSE examinations were all over, and where I'd once planned on going into the 6th Form to study for my A-Level examinations, I thought that would be pointless now.

All I wanted to do was get out, find a job somewhere a long way away, and never come back; I had to, I wasn't wanted or needed here anymore. I gradually convinced myself that I was no longer a part of this family. They didn't need or want me, and I'd hurt everyone too much to go back to them. I stopped needing to eat, food just made me sick anyway, and a piece of fruit in the morning gave me all the energy I needed without making me feel sick or throw up. The one thought in my mind was that I had to get out. I had some savings; they'd do until find somewhere I could fit in. I

t would be true to say that at this point, what dad had said to me had taken over my mind and I wasn't even remotely rational anymore; the idea that I wasn't wanted, that I wasn't part of them anymore had completely taken me over, and the only real thought in my head at any given moment was that I was supposed to leave, soon.

Dad had other ideas however.

I slipped into my room one night to find him sitting on my bed, and mum standing there, waiting for me; I flicked on the light and there they were. Mum came over to me, and tried to hug me, but I stepped back; suddenly I didn't want anyone touching me, and especially not her; the last thing I remembered clearly about her was the expression on her face as she glared at me. She stepped in closer, and hugged me anyway, and it felt...wrong, unpleasant, and I twisted out of her grasp.

"Don't do that again, don't...touch me!" I asked her, not really seeing the shocked, hurt expression on her face, in her eyes; I was busy shuddering as my skin crawled from the contact.

"Darryl what have you done? You're all bones! Oh my God, you've lost so much weight...!" There it was, more criticism, one more reason to leave.

"Baby, we haven't seen or heard from you for weeks; you don't talk to us, you don't eat anything here, you don't eat lunch in school, you don't spend any time with us, we don't know where you are, or what's wrong! Sweetheart, we're all so worried about you! Why are you doing this to yourself?"

I looked at her with almost complete disinterest in what she was saying."

"I'm doing what you wanted, I'm leaving. I'll try and find a job somewhere, find my own place, and stay away from all of you, that's what you both wanted."

Now dad had a question.

"Son, why do you think you need to leave?" and I knew the answer to that one right away.

"Because I screwed-up so big I can never fix it. Lena will never be my little sister again, and she'll never need me again. So I should go; no-one wants me here, you told me that; I have no reason to be in this family, and no need to be here; maybe I can fit-in somewhere else."

Pretty pathetic, huh?

Dad sagged, looking old and defeated. "Darryl, I'm so sorry, I never realised what we were doing to you. Your mum and I were mad at you, yes, but that was then, and we never wanted you out of our family, you're our son! We want you here, we want you to go back to school in September, take your exams, and be what you want. Come and have dinner with us, we waited for you..."

I demurred. "I had some fruit earlier today, I'm fine!" but dad wouldn't have it.

"Darryl, you're starving to death, look at you, you have to eat something besides a piece of fruit now and then!"

Mum spoke up again.

"Baby, how much weight have you lost?" and I grinned at her.

"Couple of pounds, nothing I couldn't afford to lose, besides, what's it got to do with you?"

Mum was shaking her head.

"Baby, you've lost more than that; look in the mirror, that rugby shirt is supposed to be form-fitting; it's hanging on you like a sack!"

I got mad then.

"If you people just came in here to criticise, you can leave, I don't want to hear it. I don't want to eat with you, and I feel just fine! Now could you please just go!"

The truth was, I didn't want to sit around a table with them; I felt fine, but I'd become isolated and insular, and I felt that I now had no connection to these people anymore; I'd done something bad enough to permanently exclude me from their family, and they'd told me to go, so I had no way back in; or so I believed; remember, whatever was going on in my head now, it was mostly irrational, built around an angry outburst from my father, and my reasoning, if you could call it that, made perfect sense to me. Sometimes the mind selects and fixates on the strangest, most trivial reasons for going off the rails, and I'd derailed so completely I wasn't even aware of my own altered perception of reality

Dad wasn't letting go of it.

"I know Lena misses you desperately, she wants to see you; she'd tell us she saw you at school, but you always gave her the slip, and we never knew where you were. Your little sister spends her evenings crying for you, she's worried sick about you, son. We'd check your room, and you weren't there, your mother and I came to the school time and again, but we never found you, you'd always disappeared; you don't talk to anyone anymore, you don't tell anyone where you are, and your friends say you haven't spoken to them in weeks. Your teachers asked us to help you, they're just as concerned with what you're doing to yourself, they know you need help, let us help you, please!"

I tried to get across to him what I was feeling.

"Dad, I don't need any help, I'm fine, and if Lena wanted to see me, she'd be here. I feel fine, there's nothing wrong with me, why can't you understand, I can't be here anymore? I have to leave, I want you to leave, and I definitely don't want to see Lena again, not after last time! "

And then, behind me, came the voice I'd been dreading the most.

"But I want to see you, Darryl, please, please talk to me..."

I turned around slowly, and there was my little sister, crying. Great, I'd made her cry again.

"Go away Lena, I'm not supposed to talk to you! Didn't you hear me? Just leave me alone!" I grated, angry that she was here, and angry with myself for setting all this in motion, because of her.

She came into my room and suddenly hugged me, and gasped.

"Darryl, why are you so thin, what happened to you? God, there's nothing left of you!"

I tried to push her away, and I couldn't; an 80lb girl and I couldn't move her, I had no strength at all; I might as well have tried to push a bus uphill.

Then I realised something; the feel of her hugging me was...pleasant, like someone had flicked a switch in my brain. Suddenly I felt...something, a connection to her I thought I'd severed for good.

Automatically, my arms came up and held her, the feel of my sister against me warm, and loving, and concerned; my little sister still needed me, I hadn't lost her yet!

Lena slid her hands over my back, and pulled back to look at me, shock, horror and overwhelming concern in her eyes.