Sister to the Rescue Ch. 01

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His younger sister turns out to be his best ally - and more.
5.2k words
4.41
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270

Part 1 of the 6 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 04/14/2016
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Author note - this started out as a single chapter short story, and is now expanding into a longer story as two siblings explore their desires and boundaries. Many thanks to readers for feedback which motivated this expansion. For myself, I find the story both arousing and moving.

*

It was hot. Or at least I felt hot. Warm. Sweating under the sheet, the blanket thrown down past the foot of my single bed, a bed now too small so that my feet pressed against the wood rail. A tangible reminder of what had changed - and what hadn't. Yes I had moved on to first year at State, but was now back for the summer in the same family, same house, the same bed even. Maybe Dad was right. Maybe it would be different if I had won that track scholarship, but as it was...I needed to save every dime I could.

And maybe something else hadn't changed since high school - my confidence, or rather lack of it, with girls.

I lay remembering my date that evening with Alison. One of the few connections I had run across this summer from a year earlier, from my last year of high school. Memories of her helping me struggle through Chemistry homework. Maybe that's why I had been confident enough to ask her out when I had seen her checking into the Rec Center.

Amid these memories, my right hand squeezed tenderly around the soft cloth nestled in my palm. My left fingers stroked my length. Hot alright. A hot evening. But incomplete.

Oh, everything had gone right, at least in the version I would tell Mom in the morning. "Thanks for loaning me the car. We found parking downtown no problem. Both of us liked the movie. And we talked a lot about classes now - she's been Biology herself out of state."

What I wouldn't be telling them about was me laying here past midnight with a raging hard-on under the sheet, and wondering...what Alison really thought of me. Did she feel about me like I did about her? Or did she think I was 'nice'. Groan. A good enough date for a Friday movie, but not bold enough to be a real boyfriend? What did she really want when she eventually brushed my hand aside in the car, parked in the dark under the trees. I could feel her sweet breath, the pulsing of her chest, her squirming and twisting back and forth in the passenger seat beside me...

I had wanted her so badly. I had wanted to keep undoing those cute little white buttons all the way down the front of that dress that had been driving me crazy all evening, and press aside her thin-looking bra until I could finally feel her breasts. Oh yes, I had wanted it so bad. But when she whispered "no", when she brushed my hands aside, even as fluttering as her movements were, I froze. What had she really wanted? Had I earned her trust by listening to her outer words? Or was she annoyed with herself for wasting an evening on a foolish kid, not bold enough to press for her prize?

The memories were visceral - so recent, so vivid - of Alison squirming and soft and possible in the seat next to me, physically close and yet so distant; what with the steering wheel and the handbrake and my own virginal lack of confidence. I agonized. I knew that a few strokes of my left palm right now could have me biting on my lower lip in suppressed groan and squirting my pent-up release into the forbidden silky-smooth cloth in my fist. But wouldn't I feel all the lonelier afterwards? And surely I had to be careful, protective despite my frustration, and not let even a drop of my boyhood stain her sweet, innocent little...

Just then I heard a creak at my door, and saw a ray of light cast across from the corridor. My breath checked. Was Mom checking in on me?

"Hey, bro, it's only me...are you still awake?"

I let out a half-whispered laugh of...relief?

"Yeah, apparently".

Mandy ghosted into the room, clicking the door closed behind. I was surprised by her confidence, her quickness. Soothed by her fresh scent. For a moment I didn't think to be self-conscience. But then she was perched on the side of my bed, legs crossed in a short nightie, one of the clingy satiny ones she had switched to at her recent 18th birthday, moving on, she said, from her favorite giraffe pajamas. In the angled light from the streetlamp at the end of our street, I could see how it clung to her newly swelling curves. Still girlish, they were more upward pointed than large. More about the early ripeness of spring berries than the fullness of summer fruit. If the length of my bed hadn't changed in the last year, some other things sure had. I caught my own thoughts. And surely...I must be as obvious under the single sheet? I thought of trying to slide my left hand to the side, but wouldn't that be a give away? And leave my hard-on all the more singled out - in the same singled-minded way it was burning a self-conscious hole in my brain?

But my innocent younger sister was, of course, totally unaware. She flicked aside a long strand of hair.

"How'd it go? With Alison?"

I liked to think we kept few secrets from each other. Beyond, well, this one thing in my hand. Obviously.

"Umm. Good. It's a pretty good movie, for a sequel..."

"Oh save that for the breakfast table, please. How did it go with Alison? Come on - don't hold out on me..."

My sister recrossed her legs, shifting on the side of my bed, so that I could feel the mattress move under me, even from her light weight. I watched the edge of her nightie slide higher up her young thighs. We had always been close, but tonight she seemed, so...almost intimate. I was awkwardly aware of how she was growing into a woman's body. And yet also how close we might still be, just brother and sister. She had said it so beautifully, once, several years earlier, and the phrase had stuck like a talisman in my mind. Allies against the rules, solace in the tumbles, there for each other on the sick days. And right now I so wanted that ally, someone to unburden my thoughts with.

She slid closer to me, her scent strong and yet still fresh. Was there even a hint of that secret spice that I clenched..? No! I mustn't let my mind drift toward that. If there were two secrets that I was keeping from her, the less important to hide right now was how I really felt about my date with Alison. And about that I was already on the edge of spilling out my anguished thoughts.

"Please, bro...I'll never tell anyone, I promise."

I knew she was telling the truth on that. Total trust. That we surely had. Her hand came to my left arm, and even through the sheet I felt a little electric shock, more emotional than erotic, though I think my cock pulsed even harder at the same moment. I couldn't continue to hold back from her.

"I, I don't know...I think I screwed up. I think I was too boring. Not confident enough. She probably wants someone more like one of the real jocks..."

I could feel my sisters sweet breath, her large eyes on me. "Did you kiss her?"

I paused. But I so wanted to share with her. "Yeah. I mean God, yeah. Are you kidding. We were, like, kissing for fifteen minutes or something. She was half-way out of the passenger seat toward me. I wished I hadn't put that stupid parking brake on, just wanted to look super careful with her I suppose. Probably she thinks I was so clueless..."

My sister leaned closer, a huge smile spreading across her soft lips. "Johnny, she really likes you. I'm sure of it..."

"God, I hope so, I mean, I really would love that to be true. You think?"

"Did you have fun?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, you. My stud brother who deserves the hottest girl in college. Did YOU have fun? Was she good enough for you? I know she's smart, she could hold a conversation with a Nobel Prize winner if she wanted, no doubt. But is she a good kisser? Did you enjoy kissing her? Did she let you go further?"

"Oh sis." I almost sobbed, the relief of being able to talk to someone. Really talk. And the someone I trusted more than anyone. "Yes, I, I loved kissing her. She is so soft, so open, so wet tongued..."

"And did you touch her breasts?"

"I tried. I fumbled a lot, I guess. But I so wanted to, just to feel how she would respond. The thought of kissing her and seeing if her mouth changed when I touched her breasts..."

"Especially her nipples," my sister interrupted, stroking her fingers up and down my arm. "A girl's nipples can be the most sensitive part. Oh, I so want you to be able to explore Alison. I really do. I know she likes you, I saw the way she used to look at you in the cafeteria."

I was so loving this whispered talk, my chest felt like it was bursting open with relief. I was flooded with a sense that it was going to be okay. More than okay. And a rush of gratitude, affection, more, for my sweetly pretty sister, her hair cascading forward as she leant over the bed toward me, her inner thighs forming a dark vee where the nightie rode ever higher. I suddenly realized that in turning toward her, relaxing into her trusting love for me, I had also relaxed my right fist, and the sweet taboo it held. The secret my sister must never find out.

And then suddenly, even as I was thinking it, my sin was blown open.

She leaned across me, closer than ever, her scent drifting across even as her fingers reached for my hand. My sister. Soft but insistent, her fingers prying my fist open. And her words, rather than angry or even shocked, her words reached out across our bodies almost like a caress.

"Oh, darling bro, is that my panties? Have you been holding them all this time?"

I felt like I had tripped and was falling, spiraling down into an endless hole. I couldn't speak.

Denial was useless. Clutched like a precious icon in my hand, the soft-on-the-skin pink fabric, marked with a dark streak of unique spicy scent - similar to the fragrance of her skin and yet more, so much more - could be nothing else. I stuttered with shame.

And then she kissed me. Not long, but no peck on the cheek either. Full on the mouth, her lips wet, a hint of her tongue. Mandy kissing me on the mouth. I think my heart stopped beating for a count.

"Oh, John. Don't worry. I know. I know you take my panties, at least sometimes, from the clothes hamper. I found them balled up under your pillow one morning. No, don't worry, I slipped them back into the hamper so Mom would never find out."

Her hand was on my chest now, leaning right over me. I couldn't talk.

"I think it's sweet. So sweet. Do you like to...smell them?"

I nodded with my eyes.

Her own eyes firmed, quizzing me. "Do you...taste me? Lick them...with your tongue?"

Even without my nodding, truly a deer caught in the headlights of her attention, I could tell she could see right through me, see the affirmation of her guess. Of my addiction.

She sighed, her head coming down to my chest, her arm sliding up my leg toward my pulsing cock. "I think we should have no secrets from each other. Don't you think?"

"Uh, yuh," I finally croaked.

"Then," she said, lifting her chest. "I have a confession for you. Is that okay?"

"Y, yes." I was totally drawn in. My head was spinning like I was drunk, only better.

Gently she pried her own delicate panties out of my hand and held them up between us, close between us, as she gazed up at me from where she lay on my chest. It wasn't a dream come true, only because I had never dared dream so big. The thing I felt both addicted to and so ashamed off, this kink about my sisters sexual scent, which I thought to have done everything to keep hidden from her, mortified at the thought of grossing her out, was being held out to me by her own hand. And with it her total acceptance. No shame. Was it possible?

Suddenly I felt more confident. More hopeful than ever.

"What is your confession then," I whispered.

Dark eyed, she fingered her own panties, turning them over and over and lifting them gently to her nose...and then briefly even to her lips. My sister...kissing her own panties in front of my locked gaze. Smiling with a kind of yearning plea, as if asking for forgiveness herself, she held them out to me so that I could see the dried line of wetness smeared along their inner length. As if I hadn't found that precious source already.

"I left them hoping you would find them," she confessed. "I was so excited about your date with Alison tonight. Imagining you together after the movie. Knowing how much you like her. Where it might go. I lay in bed while you were on your date, and masturbated and masturbated. Although I didn't let myself come - oh yes, I know how. I learned last year. My friend Anna showed me, when I slept over at her house. But I didn't want to fall asleep tonight, I wanted to be awake when you got home."

My intoxicating sister gently reached up and now ran the fabric of her panties across my lips. I quivered at the rich scent. And her boldness.

"I didn't come. But I got myself wet. Really wet. And then I stroked myself with my underwear, fantasizing all the time about you stroking yourself alone in bed when you got home from your date. I guessed how it would be with Alison. You like her. You're not like those other jerks on the team, trying to score. I knew you'd probably still be...horny. So I left them at the top of the clothes hamper, hoping you would find them. Wanting you to pick them out. It's the only gift I could think of to give you."

I couldn't stop myself. I seized her small hand and lifted up her fingers to my mouth. I tasted the same sweet spice. Addicting spice. My precious, darling, sweet sister. Innocent, yes. But hot. So hot. I struggled, still denying it to myself. Yet the truth was I had the sexiest sister of anyone I knew. Anyone. She smiled as she let me suck on her girl-fragrant fingers. I groaned, afraid of really losing it. I could feel her warmth, the slick movement of her satiny-nighty against my chest, and under it, her tight hard buds...

"We shouldn't..." I whispered, fighting for control.

"Shouldn't what? Be there for each other? You've always been there for me...for anything."

"Yes, but..."

"Are you worried about Alison? After tonight?" Her direct question caught me off guard. Yet it was so like my sister. Sweet and playful - and then suddenly so bold. I was proud of how she surprised others with her directness.

"Yes, kind of. I just worry she might think me...kind of nice, but that's all. Not grown up enough for her..."

She kissed me again. On the mouth. And the weirdest thing was how natural it felt. So right.

"You know what Alison's doing right now?" she whispered. "I bet she's lying in bed thinking about her date with you..." She paused, an innocent smile playing across her face in the soft amber light from the street lamp...while at the same time her hand slide up my thigh, feeling like a scalding hot-pack of desire through the sheet. I could literally feel the pulse of heart beats in the achingly hard rod of my penis. Then my sister continued. "And Alison's taken one of her pillows to put between her legs, and she's humping herself against it while she whispers your name..."

I groaned. My sister reached up to kiss me again, perhaps in part to muffle my deep voice from reaching the silence of the sleeping house. As her hand slid up to cup my swollen balls through the sheet, I moaned with lust into her open mouth. My sweet, innocent sister was inches from masturbating me and I seemed helpless to stop her. All I could do was press back into her sweet welcome, sealing my mouth against hers. Words, forbidden words, rose up from inside me and threatened to tumble out. She was the only gag left that could stop them from spilling from my lips.

Yet, my shreds of control were slipping. Had her panties just been a proxy? Had I always fantasized more? My darkest truth was that I had not just smelled them, not just even kissed them. Alone, in the quiet of my bed, covers pushed aside so that I was naked to my need, and despite my deepest shame, I had whispered Mandy's name into them. Whispered during those pulsing moments, ejaculating my need over the taut muscles of my abdomen, each lustful spurt not just soaking my chest, but jerking from my lips another confession of her sweet name.

Yet once relieved, I had pushed the words away, even from myself. Denying the memory. But now? What if her name spilled out now?

Even as I was in danger of losing it, my innocent sister was still thinking of me, of how I was feeling about the date.

"Please, John. Please believe me. Alison really likes you. I bet she loved this evening. And is as turned on as you. Don't worry. She won't wait until term starts again. She'll call you tomorrow to chat. She always used to make some excuse about summer study. I bet she just loves to hear your voice."

I love you sis. I really do. The words were scorching my throat. Yet were still held by a cord of silence. I always have.

Even as I was being scalded by my secret feelings, my sister kept reassuring me about Alison. "You know what she was really doing last year, when she was talking with you about homework?"

I couldn't answer, her words were overwhelming me.

"I bet she was curled up on her bed, with lots of cushions, and the phone pressed up against her ear with one hand, even when she's pretending to be going along in the book."

The image soaked through me of Alison, this beautiful smart girl I was in awe of, not just agreeing to a date, but thinking about me beforehand. I realized that until now, until my sisters words were enticing me with their hope, I hadn't dared imagine such a thing.

Mandy's eyes got bigger. "And with her other hand? She's unbuttoned her jeans, and she's stroking down with a finger, just far enough to toy between her pussy lips. And she keeps asking you questions just to keep you talking, while she secretly fingers herself off, and bites her lower lip so you don't hear how hard she's breathing into the phone."

I felt my heart was going to break. "Oh God, you really think so sis?"

"Oh yes, yes, yes. That's what us girls do when we really have a crush on a boy. Believe me, please John." Her hand disappeared from the base of my cock, and I groaned, this time with frustration, unable to hide my wanting. She fumbled with something, I wasn't sure what, until a few seconds later she eased two fingers into my mouth, and I tasted for the first time the straight, unfiltered juice of my sister's wet cunny. Not just a spicy scent, but the divine source itself. I couldn't stop myself. I realized that I was sucking on her fingers like she was the director in a porn movie. And I? I was her model. And she was teaching me to suck cock. My mind was upside down with confusion, acting on pure instinct. She squirmed in response to my submissive act.

"Yes, yes, oh my darling brother. Suck my fingers. I want you to taste what a girl really wants. You'll have lots of girls, and they will all be wet for you. Every one of them will want you to taste them, and lick them, and they will want to come for you. Oh yes." My sister's voice was becoming hoarse, deep, throaty. Suddenly I realized that maybe she was as turned on as me. Was that possible? "Oh yes," she whispered, throatier than ever, "they will want to come for you. Again and again."

We lay like that, our two young bodies pulsing with heat. And with acceptance. It was okay. It was all okay.

Then she was fumbling again with her hand, I realized now between her own legs. And then circling her chest with the same hand. She pulled aside one of the straps of her low-cut nightie and squirmed up so that her young chest was closer to me. Tight, firm curve of her virgin breast. I hesitated, torn between lust and protective desire for my sister.

"Please, oh, I've never known what it's like. Anne and I, we practiced kissing, but that's as far as she would go. Please?" My sister's voice became soft and pleading. She was begging me. And as I reached up to softly mouth her nipple I realized what she had done - circle it with her wet fingers. So hot. It was like she was stabbing me through the chest with sexual need. I sucked on her breast and knew I was once again on the edge of losing control. My hard cock pressed against her thigh, where I could feel her wrist pump as she once again frantically fingered her girlhood. She sobbed into my ear. For the first time ever I sensed a girl hover on the edge, quicken, and then tip over into orgasm. Her whole body pulsated against me. She was like the most tender bird, being held in my open grip. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever experienced. My heart broke open with love and gratitude for her.

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