It was one of the LAST things I was expecting to find when I got home from work that night.
I live in one half of a two-level apartment duplex, not far from my job -- working as a mechanic -- as I have been since I finished trades-school four years ago. While I was glad to move out from my parents home, the one thing I did from the get-go is offer an extra key to my younger sister. The proviso was she could visit any time she felt the need to, so long as it wasn't at too odd of an hour of the day (or night), and so long as she called ahead . . . just in case.
Well, this time Bobbi -- short for Roberta -- must have decided the "call ahead" didn't apply this once. After all, she'd checked with me three days ago, right when I was starting a five-day, 12-hour "on-call" deal at the garage. Bobbi later admitted that, knowing I should have been out for a while, she clearly had decided it would be okay to let herself in, on the general principal she'd be gone long before I got home that night.
What she didn't count on was the fact work at the garage was slow. Dead slow. To the point my boss told me to go ahead and leave early.
So, I get home around two in the afternoon -- dropping my toolkit and work boots off at the front door, and really felt the need to get to my shower, clean off the gook and gunk and relax for a while.
Passing by the entrance to the living room-slash-den, I heard music. Now I clearly remember turning off the T.V. and the radio this morning before I left. I peeked around the corner of the doorway . . . and did a classic, cartoon, Bugs Bunny style double-take; shocked at what I saw!
The doorway was across from the long couch that dominates the far wall of my living room. From there, I had a clear view of Bobbi; who was sprawled across the cushions, clearly off in her own little world as she listened to one of my Jazz and Blues CDs in the stereo unit nearby. There was a couple of beer cans on the coffee table in front of her, as well as a rumpled paper bag and some open wrappers of Bobbi's favorite Mexican take-out place.
The mess wasn't what shocked me. What shocked me was the fact my little sister was buck-ass
naked!
More than that, Bobbi was also rubbing her hands all along her trim, compact little body, clearly in the process of some self-pleasure play.
Now, I'm not immune to the fact Bobbi's a woman. We lived together for nearly seventeen years with our parents, before I moved out. Now, Bobbi was twenty-one, and far be from me to lie but my baby sister really grew into her inches, so to speak. She's a short little thing; barely five-five, about one-twenty -- even soaking wet (no pun intended there, pervs!). But Bobbi packs it all in equal proportion. She's got killer hips and legs, and even though she's barely a C-cup (she's more of a well-topped off B), her boobs rarely ever just get a single glance when she's wearing a tube top or anything less concealing. Add to that a pug nose, Cupid's bow lips and eyes and hair that are as black as ink, the later of which she'd left in a short, gamin-style cut.
She's a stone-fox, believe me.
So, at that point, watching her squirm on top of my couch in her birthday-suit . . . well, brother or not, I'd be a fool not to be struck stupid by the sheer sight of her. Granted, the only thing I had on my mind just then was that shower I had planned . . . but, you know how the plans of most men go. Especially when confronted with a naked chick giving herself a good time. Even if that chick happens to be their sister.
Truth to tell, I had been standing there for a couple of minutes watching Bobbi pleasure herself. The way her hands trailed over her "beaches-n-cream" skin, slipping across her delectable boobs and across her firm tummy, just barely brushing against her sex . . . you'd have to consider me a dead man, if I wasn't sporting a chubby. Which I was. A pretty stiff one, and from the tightness in my cover-all's it was going to be a whopper when it finished filling out to its six-and-a-half limit.
I should have just backed out, headed upstairs and took my shower.
Any other brother worth their salt would have done that.
Me? Color me a pervert, but that shower was now the furthest thought in my head just then.
Knowing that I'd be in Dutch if Bobbi was to catch sight of me then, I ducked back behind the doorway and silently shed my cover-all's. I wiped off as much of the oil and grease from my hands and forearms as I could on them, then made short work of my socks and undershirt. Now all I wore were my cotton boxer-briefs; standing there for a moment to gather myself.
Granted, I wasn't thinking through all of this at that moment. What I was planning . . . hell, a hundred or so things could go wrong. Again, big-head had no think-sense. I was running on pure hormones and sudden, unfading lust.
I peeked around the corner again, and Bobbi was still off in La-La Land -- her head tipped back against a throw pillow, eyes closed, mouth open and gasping as she was tweaking her berry-red nipples with both hands. Her legs were spread wide, one propped against the back of the sofa and the other stretched out to the floor.
Perfect,
I thought.
Slipping down to my knees, I crawled as slowly as I dared, crossing the distance from the doorway to the couch. Moving as carefully as I could to avoid startling Bobbi, I angled myself between her spread legs and propped one arm on the floor as I leaned over her lower body. This close to my sister, I could smell the scent of her aroused little snatch; spicy, with a hint of the soap she liked to use. Her tummy was rippling with waves of contractions, making her hips tip up and down like a rocking ship. I could also see how her labia had flowered out a bit, showing under a light covering of dark, fine hairs. The sheen of wet made the light from the sun streaming in from the window appear to sparkle along her pussy lips and on the end of her clit; peeking out of its hood, wriggling like the nose of a rabbit.
Well, I had hope this little "bunny" wouldn't freak out at what I was about to do next. I peeked up at Bobbi's face, and she was still too into herself to sense my presence.
Hell, here goes everything!
I thought. Summoning what courage I had left, I slowly lowered my face to her crotch. When I was close enough, the next time Bobbi's hips bucked up, I opened my mouth and covered the whole front of her pussy with it. At the same time, I put my tongue to work with a long sweep from bottom to clit in one swipe.
The reaction from Bobbi was, at first, surprising. She moaned at contact, and lifted her hips higher to keep the connection with my mouth sealed. "Oooo!" she gasped, bending her back in a bow. By then, I was committed. I put all my pussy-eating skill and knowledge into the act; forming a tight suction and lavishing my tongue up one side of her quim and down the other. "Ahhh,
yessss!"
she hissed, before bucking back towards my sucking lips and probing tongue.