My Playmate, My SisterbyBraindard©
I'll be honest, growing up with a sister like mine was no cakewalk. It was abundantly clear that my sister, Sara, was destined for some form of modeling from the moment she started developing her killer body in her early years. All throughout high school she had the attention and longing gazes of every boy, man and even some women there. As I went through my freshman year, lusting after any bit of female I could grasp, I was constantly teased about my senior sister's looks and how much every one of my friends would love to "bang her."
Now I won't lie and say I didn't notice; after all, I was in the peak of my sexual desires too. However, my thoughts never strayed beyond the occasional hope to see her coming out of the shower or undressing in her room. I did get a peek every once in a while, but it was all innocent and never got out of hand. Luckily for me, Sara was incredibly wholesome and modest about her looks, having a few lucky boyfriends here and there but largely displaying her beauty in tolerable amounts. So even though I had to stare down or ignore someone for the occasional comment about Sara's "hot ass and tits," I never felt embarrassed by any of her actions.
I suppose I should probably tell you what she really looks like. Aside from a body that looks to be sculpted from marble, she is about 5'3" weighing just over 100 lbs. She has 24" waist and from inspecting some of her more seductive lacey bras in the laundry is done I know her breasts measured a full 32C which I wanted nothing more than to at least any chance I could get. She has the most gorgeous eyes, more green than hazel, framed by a cute, freckled face and tiny chin. To top it all off she has the perfect shade of blonde hair with dark streaks, which she wears in a variety of styles mostly with long bangs swept across her face.
Unfortunately, in high school I was a shrimpy little kid, never really breaking 130 lbs. until my senior year, when I finally came into my own. So when Sara brought her usual slough of beautiful friends around, I was always just her little brother to them. It didn't matter to Sara though, she was a bit nerdy like me and was always willing to play a video game or two or watch a movie late at night. She even got me with a few pretty girls if she knew their older sister or invited me to a party she could maneuver me around. She and I got along well, and even though we didn't interact much at school, we have always been good friends. After she went away to college across the country we separated a bit, but whenever we were both together we were thick as thieves.
But things changed for her early in Sara's Junior year of college. As I walked through a convenience store on my way to the train home from school, I caught the top of a Playboy on the clearance rack behind the counter.
"I'll be damned if that doesn't look just like Sara's face," I thought, not even realizing what that would mean if it really was her.
I asked for the copy, and after I showed my 19 year-old driver's license to the cashier and a sideways glance, he handed it to me. The photo on the cover, now many months old, was definitely in Playboy's usual style, airbrushed and photo-shopped to an almost unrecognizable degree, but I was 95% certain it was my sister. She was body-painted in the same colors as her college, Oregon State, and displaying what I had always known to be her fan-fucking-tastic form. I had no time to dwell on it, however, as my friends were all waiting so I shoved the Playboy into my backpack, paid and headed outside. I could barely focus on getting to the train and then home, and I don't think I said a word for the whole ride to my stop 30 minutes away.
I was in shock; "would Sara really do that? She's always been adventurous but this is totally different," I thought.
When I finally got home I made for my room as fast as I could after a quick catch-up on the day with my Mom. As I pulled out the magazine and that's when I knew for sure, the beauty on the front cover was my sister. I thumbed through the pages and opened up to a her spread, not even thinking of the taboo implications. There she was, for all the world to see, and what a sight it was. She was going by the name Sara Jean Underwood, obviously not the same as our family name. She was every guy's wet dream, clearly the best looking in the entire magazine, and she was my sister. I had to say it in my head a few times before it really set in, and after a cold shower I pulled out my phone and decided to text my sister.
"Hey Sara, anything new," I wrote.
A few long minutes later, I received:
Sara: "Nope, nothing really, I'm coming home Friday, a week early for summer, though!,"
Me: "That's cool, is something going on?"
Sara: "Just felt a little overwhelmed is all."
Me: "Anything you want to talk about?"
Sara: "We can catch up when I get home in a few days, okay?"
Me: "Sure, I miss you."
Sara: "Miss you too!"
Soon enough it was Friday and I was nervous to see my big sister so soon after the recent development. I decided to do a little research online, and I wasn't prepared for what I was about to see. A quick search of her name brought a whole bunch of results, at least three photo shoots - all stemming from the fact that she had apparently been crowned playmate of the month in July. I clicked on each gallery and scanned the page, seeing my sister laid out in a bunch of unbelievably sexy poses in all states of undress. I couldn't help it, the pictures were turning me on. I imagined her laid out on the window-bench in my room, looking at me straight in the eye as she pulled her top off, light glancing off her just like it did in the pictures. In my daze I didn't even hear the sound of my sister clamoring up the stairs, and then standing at my open door, seeing clearly what I had found.
"Okay, now I know what that text was about," she said as I clicked out of the browser at the speed of light. "No point in pretending now, we obviously are going to have to talk about this."
I just stared at her, she was different than the last I saw of her about 8 months before that. She was tan, her hair was better than it had ever looked, and she was in the best shape of her life. Even her clothes were thin and more revealing than ever, and after looking at the pictures on my computer, I realized I would never see her the same again.
"Come here and give me a hug first, I've had a long day of travelling," she said with fatigue thick in her voice.
At 19 years old, I was a full 6'0" and taking good care of my body had left me at 180 lbs. with a decent shot with women. I walked up, towering over her now, and she sank into my arms. Maybe it was what I had just seen on the computer, her clothes, or maybe it was something she was doing on purpose, but every part of her seemed to be pressed against me. I could feel the swell of those amazing breasts pressing against my chest, and my hands around her felt a toned backside most girls dreamed of.
"You've really grown," Sara said, leaning most of her weight into me as she ran her hands innocently over me.
We hadn't seen much of each other the previous summer as she was working (at Hooter's I later learned) near her school in Oregon. That and the 8 or so months of school had given me plenty of time to grow, gaining an inch or two and a ton of manly muscle, if I didn't say so myself.
She moved away from me and looked into my eyes, saying "I need you to be calm about this, and to please not talk to Mom or Dad about it until I'm ready."
Still slightly aroused, I pulled myself together, "Okay, but you have to tell me all about it at least."
She eagerly agreed. We sat in my room, the loving brother half of me paying attention to her story of how she was found in a little Playboy talent search I had seen on the cover of that fateful magazine and how the feedback on her first photos was so good they decided to make her Playmate of the Month. The other half of me could not stop thinking of what I had seen and how this beautiful specimen in front of me could be seen by anybody in the heart-stopping galleries online, and that she was my sister!
"...so what do you say?" I snapped back in. After a short pause she knew I hadn't heard the question.
"I know this is a lot to handle, but let's just do our best to act normally around each other, okay Andrew?"
I agreed of course, and she hopped out of my room, her sculpted little butt swaying a bit as she turned and shot me a slightly mischievous smile.
All things considered, it was pretty normal around the house for the next few days. Our parents were rarely around, busy with their work or fairly hefty social lives, so I didn't have to deal with blurting out our secret to them. Sara was out visiting friends during the weekend and I was studying for finals, albeit occasionally distracted by the fact that I had a Playboy Playmate living under the same roof. One night as I studied for a relatively easy exam the next day, Sara came in and we talked for hours, her in tight white tank top and some tiny shorts, teasing me, maybe not so unintentionally, the entire night. She told me she had dropped out a few months ago because things were going so good with Playboy. Then she began to talk about her love life, something that had never really been off limits with us. It was obviously different now to talk about love and relationships and sex, for my mind kept straying to what a man might do with a girl like my sister in the privacy of their own room.
"I can't relate to any of the guys I am meeting, they all are kind of slimy and just want me because of my photos. I miss being with a guy who might actually care about me, and I miss the sex too," she said, blushing and looking down, missing the wide-eyed look I had on my face.
I told her about some of the girls I had dated, and even noted a hint of bitterness as I named a few girls she apparently didn't approve of. She curled up in my arms as we talked through all of the changes in both our lives and we fell asleep together, laying a comfortable distance apart.
When I awoke I felt like a million dollars, warm and cozy and ready to get up and shower before my test. Slowly waking I realized the coziness came from the gorgeous girl I was now tightly spooning and who had wrapped herself around one each of my arms and legs. It was both loving and arousing, and I realized my hand was gently resting in the middle of her perfect chest. I tried to slowly move out of position but she only latched onto me more, pushing my hand further into her soft, cotton-covered breasts. I knew it was only a matter of minutes before I hardened fully and she would easily be able to feel it. That worry disappeared as she closed the space between us and nestled her tight bottom right over my shaft.
"Mmmmmh, good morning Andrew," she said softly, wiggling a bit as she turned her head to look at me.
It was excruciating to resist the urge to thrust forward between her cheeks. There was that suggestive smile again.
"I haven't felt this relaxed in a long time, I am so glad to finally be back," she whispered.
"How long will you be staying? Are you going to have to leave for any more shoots soon?" I asked quietly, trying not to move or address the fact that I was aroused by my sister.
"Actually, there is talk about making me Playmate of the Year, but I don't think I stack up to the competition. Either way, I have another shoot in a few weeks," Sara said, turning to face me and finally relieving the pressure on my growing problem.
I paused, appearing deep in thought, "Yeah, I wouldn't count on it." I said sarcastically, making a funny face at her as her mouth dropped, insulted.
In mock anger she rolled on top of me, battering my chest with playful blows as she straddled me, both of us laughing as I grabbed her wrists with one arm and tickled her always sensitive sides with the other. As she twisted to avoid my prying fingers, her hips ground lightly down on my still slightly enlarged member, and I could hardly focus on the tickling for all of the pleasure it was causing me.
The wrestling intensified, both of us breathing hard between laughs and feeling her lithe body against mine. Our play continued, and I rolled on top of her, pinning her to the bed with her hands above her head. Her tank top had ridden up by now, revealing a mouth-watering abdomen and her bottoms were scrunched up towards her waist. She panted beneath me and arched her back, trying to push me off of her and once again forcing herself against my engorged cock. Still holding her down I moved my mouth to her abdomen and blew, making a funny sound like I used to when we were just kids. The subtle scent of her body wash and perfume lingered and she squealed as I rubbed the morning whiskers of facial hair on her smooth skin.
Displaying that she had obviously been working out, she somehow gained leverage over me and flipped back on top, her legs interlocked with mine, straddling my thigh. I could swear I felt faint yet rhythmic thrusts against my leg with her nimble frame squashed against my chest. I could feel her warm breath on my ear and she finally sat up raising her arms in victory as I gave up, exhausted. If I hadn't been so entranced with our arousing battle, I might have noticed her nipples standing proudly and entirely visible through the soft cotton of her tank top.
Our horseplay ended, and as I looked up at her with her abdomen and firm breasts heaving from our tussle, I knew then that she would undoubtedly win Playmate of the Year. It was almost as if she read it on my face, because she gave me a little peck on the lips and hopped off, maintaining the innocence our little slumber party had began with. She had the walk of an angel and she once again smiled at me as she bounced out, swinging around the frame of the door and out of sight. I laid there for a few minutes, trying to pull myself together and shake off any further thoughts of the hottest woman I had ever laid eyes on; it was no easy task.
As I worked through my exam, my thoughts occasionally strayed to Sara, wondering what was going on and if I was out of my mind for thinking of her as any more than a sister. The exam was as easy as I thought it would be, so I finished and returned home early. When I got back my sister was at the fridge, deep in thought, biting on her finger as she always did. Dressed in tiny jean shorts and an oversized football jersey, tied at the waist and hanging slightly over one shoulder, I thought of she now seemed to know exactly what to wear to complement her figure. I scolded myself inwardly for then thinking it would be better if she wore less.
"Oooh, you scared the shit out of me," she said as she jumped and the jersey fell the rest of the way down her shoulder, revealing the strap of a black bra beneath.
I wanted to ravish her on the kitchen table right then and there as she turned her head and cocked her hips, playing at my desires.
"I was just going to make us both lunch, how did your test go?"
I told her about it as I sat at the table and she prepared lunch, slapping my hand away a few times that I reached for some little morsels.
"I've been taking cooking classes," she told me, "It's funny because I'm finally doing all the things I want to do, maybe I wasn't cut out for college anyway."
"You're nuts Sara," I fired back, "you have always been the smartest girl I know, and are probably still the only female who can beat me in any game on the Xbox.... you're amazing."
She glowed in response to my comment her striking eyes locking onto mine, "I love you so much Andrew."
We ate and chatted about this and that, and I realized that even though Playboy Playmate status had taken her from a hot young girl to a to-die-for image on the page of a magazine, we still got on as well as ever.
"So I was thinking," she interjected, "I've got to go to this club tonight and shake hands with a bunch of the higher-ups of Playboy here, but I don't really want to go alone. They might be a little weirded out if I brought my brother, but do you think you might want to go as my date?"
"I mean, sure, if you think that's okay," I fired back, excited but nervous.
"Of course it is," said Sara happily, "I'd just love to have someone to hold on to, it can be kind of intimidating considering the nature of the work."
She told me a little more about the night and what was in store, some dancing, some drinking and of course some more playmates - which I obviously couldn't complain about. The rest of the day went on with little consequence, we watched a movie together and caught up on some work individually.
After I had thrown on a nice button-up and dress pants I went and sat on the couch and waited for Sara, who was never on time. When the doorbell rang and I hopped up to answer it, I was surprised to see a expensive-looking limousine sitting in the driveway.
"We should be going sir, wouldn't want to keep Sara's employers waiting." said the driver.
Just then, the click of heels on hardwood alerted us that Sara was finally ready to go. As I looked up I nearly collapsed, and so did the driver. Sara wore a red, slightly shimmering dress, cut low between her breasts and high on her thighs. Her cleavage was so perfect I could die happy right there, the dress seeming to be holding on to it for dear life. It clung to her form and I couldn't imagine a more beautiful sight. As she gracefully stepped down the stairs in her simple but sexy black heels, the driver struggled for words.
"Good e-evening Miss Underwood, I am d-d-david, your driver for tonight."
Sara was a good sport and thanked David as we walked out the door. As I took the first step out the door, Sara stopped me and whispered in my ear, causing a tingle to run through my body,
"I think he saw something he liked."
Not to be outdone, I turned and whispered back, "He wasn't the only one."
She squeezed my hand and after she got in the limo, David, who was holding the door said, "You are a lucky man." I knew I was.
Sara sat close to me the whole ride there and her presence was intoxicating. The night pretty much went as Sara had described, we sipped on drinks while meeting a whole bunch of people who pretty much jumped over me to get to Sara as she answered their questions. When all of the connections were finally made, Sara dragged me toward the bar and said
"I need a shot or two, I almost couldn't stand it anymore."
I agreed and we both winced back two shots of something that was way above my budget, apparently free of charge. Then came playmate introductions. Some were scattered about the dance floor, others at various bars about the classy establishment. I recognized some from television but most were gorgeous and unknown to me. I did, however, notice that almost every one of them paled in comparison to Sara.
Sara dragged me onto the dance floor among the beauties and we were innocently spinning each other around and sharing the occasional close moment as the alcohol began to work its magic. Then, as if in a dream, Jessica Burciaga, a crush of mine with whom I had spent a little time flirting with earlier grabbed me for a dance. The beating music, dark atmosphere and ever-present buzz of the alcohol had me confident and forward as the tanned, Latina beauty pushed against me. She was beginning to really get into it, grinding her hips against mine in away only a fiery girl like her could. I was in another universe, doing what every guy always dreams of, and with her hands on top of mine I felt every inch of my long-standing playmate crush.
I obviously wasn't paying attention to much else because it took me a while to notice that Sara, who was nearby, had found a guy and was dancing against him too. I tried to disregard the immediate pang of jealousy I felt, but it would not go away. Jessica was now doing her most seductive dancing, pulling my body into hers, our breath heavy upon each other, but it wasn't enough to keep me from stealing a glance at my sister across the way. Her dress was catching the little bit of light on the floor and her body was unfathomably sexy as she moved to the music. Once more I looked, and I saw on her face the same jealousy I had felt. Our eyes locked. We stared at each other as the music seemed to get quieter, and our dance partners continued their movement around us. I knew she wanted to be dancing with me at that moment, and I, with her. At the end of the song we thanked our partners, and Jessica planted a kiss on my lips, slipping a note into my pocket and whispering for me to call her.