I could barely contain my excitement. Lana was coming home!
She had skipped the annual camping trip to spend some time with her boyfriend up north. She was almost exactly a year older than me, and my best friend on top of my sister. There were no secrets between us...I knew when she started smoking, and her fling with a female classmate. She knew all about my one experience with sex with a girl, and had barged into my room more than once when I was masturbating. When she did catch me, she just rolled her eyes and left to let me finish.
But she didn't know anything about what had happened to me over the last few weeks, how I'd seen a man getting a blowjob from another man that led to my own cocksucking and getting fucked. That I'd been blowing my boss every night after work, to his and my mutual enjoyment. How much I craved servicing a man, and how much I loved being underneath a man while he pounded the hell out of my ass.
The day she came home, she had her boyfriend Jake in tow. She'd met him at Huntington where they'd shared some classes. He was a senior to her sophomore, and was tall and muscular. If I were into younger guys (well, younger than Paul and John anyway), I'd be attracted to him. I'll admit, though, I had a slight animosity towards him...after all, he was taking up time that I could have spent with Lana.
I didn't get a chance to talk to her privately for another week. She moved into an apartment with Jake, and between work and sneaking over to Paul's house I was busy myself.
The opportunity arose on my day off from Burgerstack. Dad had found a box of Lana's stuff in the garage and asked me if I could run it over to her place. Even though it was after noon, she answered the door in a tightly cinched bathrobe, hair dishevelled like she'd just woke up.
"Where's Jake?" I asked, setting the box down on a cinder-block and plywood "coffee table" and sitting next to her on a couch that they'd obviously scrounged up second-(or maybe third-)hand.
"Sleeping," she said with a grin. "We were up late."
"Good," I said. "I've been dying to talk to you since you got back."
I told her all about the camping trip, and what had happened with Paul and Matt, and what was going on since we'd gotten back. She didn't act surprised or upset.
"So is Paul your boyfriend?" she asked.
"I don't know if I'd call him that," I answered. "I mean, we have sex but haven't like gone out or anything."
"I had suspicions that you might be gay," she said.
"Really? Why? I thought I was pretty much an average guy growing up," I replied.
She grinned. "You remember playing dress-up when we were kids?"
I did. When we were in our early teen's, Mom and Dad had gotten into square-dancing and would go out every Friday and Saturday night. We would dress up in her and Mom's clothes, and she took great delight in doing my face with make-up that she swiped from our parent's bathroom. We would sashay around the house, talking about imaginary boyfriends and laughing a lot. It came to a screeching halt one day when Dad had come back to the house unexpectedly. We didn't get punished for it or anything, but I think that was the reason they stopped going out.
"You took to that easily," she said. "If Dad hadn't caught us, we'd probably still be doing it."
"It was fun," I admitted, "but I don't want to be a girl or anything. I'm a guy that just likes guys."
"We should try it again," she said with a mischevious twinkle in her eye.
I laughed. "What?"
"We should try it again...dress you up and see if you like it still," she said.
"I don't know, sis," I said, still laughing. Surely she wasn't serious?
"C'mon," she said. "It'll be fun. Like old times."
I realized she WAS serious. I frowned.
"I don't think so, sis," I said. "That was just us kids playing. I think we've outgrown that."
She knew exactly how to poke my buttons, and pouted. She'd use that when she wanted to get her way with something. It had always worked for her before, since I never wanted to disappoint my sister. It didn't just work on me either, it worked on Dad too. Mom never fell for it, though.
"No," I said, laughing.
She pouted harder.
"It's not going to work," I said, smiling.
She pouted even harder, tilting her head down with her eyes turned up towards me. She looked like a petulant six year old.
We stared at each other. She rarely got angry with me, but I could sense irritation rising in her. Finally, I broke my gaze.
"Ok, fine!" I said. Anything to stop the pout.
It turned into a smile. "I knew you'd see things my way," she gloated. I rolled my eyes.
She stood up. "Wait right here," she said.
"What? Now?" I asked. "Isn't Jake here?"
She waved my question away. "He's sleeping, and knowing him he'll be sleeping for a while."
I was a little bit panicky. "Shouldn't we wait until he's not here?"
"He's always here," she said. "He's not working this summer and the next semester hasn't started yet. Just sit right here. I'll be right back."
She left down a short hallway to her bedroom, returning a few minutes later carrying a bunch of clothes.
"Strip," she commanded. Hesitantly, I pulled off my clothes until all I was wearing was my underwear.
"Tighty-whiteys, too," she said.
"But.." I said.
"I've seen your dick before, remember?" she said, cutting me off. "Get them off."
Reluctantly, I pulled my underwear off and they joined the pile of my clothes on the floor. I stood in front of her, covering my groin with my hands.
She handed me a pair of panties, which I quickly put on to cover my nakedness. Then she handed me a pair of shorts. They were tiny.
"These are too small for me," she said. "They should fit you, though."
