Here Cums The Bride 4

Hi gang...here's another new one for your perusal. To all my readers, I say thank you in advance, and encourage you all, new and old, to send me your thoughts and feedback on this story. I hope you enjoy it.

As always, all characters are consenting adults, over the age of eighteen, and fictional.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pssst! Come here. I have to tell you something.

I. Love. Women.

Especially women with great eyes. Great big eyes, with long lashes. Big blue eyes... or green ones. Even brown eyes, as long as they're big, and expressive, with sexy, long lashes, that flutter like butterfly wings when she bats them at me. Eyes like Emma Stone has. Emily DiDonato. Mila Kunis. Eyes that make you melt.

Oh, and lips... Soft, pouty, kissable lips. I suppose any discussion of lips probably starts with Angelina Jolie. Scarlett Johansson has nice lips too. Kat Dennings. Eva Green. DiDonato qualifies here, too. So, women with great eyes and kissable lips are high on my list.

Nice hair. Yeah, that's another thing. Long, lustrous, luxuriant, sexy hair. The colour is not that important... No, wait, maybe it is. Red has always been a favourite of mine. Long, sexy, red hair, big green eyes, with long lashes... and big pouty lips. That's it.

Of course, a really nice ass is always welcome. Firm, muscular... With that classic inverted heart shape. The kind of ass you can get a good grip on while she's riding your cock, or while you're fucking her standing up, with her long, smooth legs wrapped around your waist. Yeah, that's it... That's all I need. A chick with a great ass, nice, long legs, and sexy red hair down to the middle of her back. That's it... and those big eyes... big green eyes... and pouty, kissable, cocksucking lips. Yeah. That'll do.

Oh, one more thing. Well, two actually. Tits. Boobs. Jugs. Hooters. You get the idea. A nice, big pair of thick nippled, bouncy melons, there for the taking.

So I guess what I'm saying is that I really like redheads, with big tits, nice butts, long legs, pretty green eyes and full kissable lips. Pretty specific, I know. One could look far and wide for a woman just like that, and never find one that fit all the criteria.

Or, one could look in the house where I grew up. The place was crawling with them. Three sisters... actually one older one, Erica, twenty-three, who already checked all the boxes, and two younger ones, the twins, Sarah and Sylvia. They were only thirteen years old now, but would soon blossom as well, if Erica was any indication.

Of course, there was also the prototype... Mom. Oedipus would have a field day. With a ten year gap between her oldest and youngest children, she had obviously captivated Dad as well. Now forty-four, she didn't look it, and took pretty good care of herself.

I suppose it's only natural that I have become more than slightly obsessed with that specific list of physical characteristics. I grew up with them, day in, day out. To me, that's what a woman was supposed to look like.

My mother and I were always close. I was her only son, so I got a lot of attention. I guess I was a 'mommy's boy', but I never had a problem with that. As I grew up, I rather enjoyed it, being enveloped in one of my Mother's soft hugs.

***

I'm Steve. I turned eighteen last April, and as close as I always have been with my Mother, I think I've been even closer with my big sister.

I know some families have friction between siblings, but that really wasn't us. Sibling rivalry was unknown. Maybe the age differences were a factor. Erica and the twins are ten years apart, and I'm right in the middle, five years from each extreme. Whatever the reason, we really were one big, happy family.

Erica and I shared everything with each other. That's probably how we got so close.

When Erica was going through puberty, and was feeling weird about herself and the changes she was going through, I was there. I had no idea what was going on, being seven at the time, I think, but she needed a hug, and I was happy to give her one. The same was true when she lost her first boyfriend, and when high school got to be overwhelming.

She returned the favour more times than I could count, and being older, her comfort was more than just a token gesture. Getting my first girlfriend. Losing my first girlfriend. I was eight, so a girlfriend was a friend that just happened to be a girl. Later, when 'girlfriend' started to mean more, she was there, explaining how girls thought differently about things than boys. She was truly my best friend.

As I started to notice and appreciate the fairer sex, I also noticed that my sister was a girl. Yeah, I know...no shit, Sherlock. What I mean is...she was becoming a miniature version of Mom, only better.

By the time she turned eighteen, the term 'miniature' no longer applied. My sister was all grown up, and she was, without a doubt, a certified, iron clad, card carrying fox.

Beautiful doesn't even begin to cover it. To my eyes, she had always been that way, but now... Wow! Picture Anne Hathaway, but with longer hair, that was more red than brown. Her huge eyes were a darker green than most I've seen. She was very, very pretty.

Her body was another matter entirely. With all due respect to the fact that she was my sister...oh my fucking god! She had developed... and I do mean DE-VEL-OPED...the curves of a stripper. A medium tall, gorgeous, slim and stacked goddess, she attracted the attention of every guy within sight.

I was among them.

Fantasies involving her started to take root in my mind, fuelling my early adolescence...and then she left...to get married.

***

I was in my sister's wedding party. It's not hard to find me in all the wedding photos. I'm the one wearing the rented tuxedo and the scowl. The scowl was not a rental ; it was all mine. In retrospect, I feel a bit embarrassed that I ruined her pictures.

All but one, anyway.

She had dragged me off alone, and had the photographer take a few shots of just the two of us. Erica's smile was at its radiant best that day, as you would expect of a bride, and I had a pretty good one on my face as well for those few pictures. Being reunited with her, even for a day, always made me smile.

My favourite is the one where she's holding my head, pressed against her chest, just above her big boobs. If you look closely... and I have, several times, believe me... you can see my chin dipping into the soft crease of cleavage that her gown displayed that day. Sigh. Such good memories.

Unfortunately, I wasn't invited to the rest of her life. The ceremony ended with the usual...the happy couple, leaving together, and starting a new journey. Leaving their old lives behind.

Leaving

me

behind.

I was devastated, but tried not to be angry. Not with Erica, anyway. Her husband, Eddie? Let's just say that my Eddie voodoo doll would have been getting a workout, if I'd had one. I hated him. Loathed him. Wished him a quick but painful death. Okay, maybe not that quick.

I wanted my big sister back. I wanted my friend back. I never thought about it from her point of view.

Soon, Erica was pregnant. Mom was thrilled, as were my other sisters, but the thought of Eddie doing...that...with my Erica, made me ill. Nonetheless, my sister was going to be a Mommy, and I had no doubt she'd be a great one.

Or not.

A miscarriage ended the pregnancy, and Eddie showed his true colours, jumping in bed with someone else. The infidelity ended the marriage. In a few months, my sister had gone from happily married and pregnant, to betrayed, divorced and emotionally wrecked. I now wished Eddie's death would be preceded by months of agony, unless I was present. If that was the case, I would joyfully crush the life out of him for what he did to my best friend.

***

That was two years ago, and Erica had built a new life since then. Unwilling to move back home, she'd done what she could to recover her independence. She held on to her apartment, and got a job befitting her skills.

She didn't have any. Skills that is. Getting married as young as she did, to her high school boyfriend, she hadn't needed to go beyond summer jobs, and hers had run toward the 'table waiting' end of the spectrum. Waitresses generally don't pull in a lot of cash, but those of a specific type do a little better than average.

Cocktail waitresses. They did better on tips, and for that job she was amply qualified. I do mean 'amply'.

I'm getting ahead of myself, though. Just after my high-school graduation, my parents suggested that I might want to talk to my sister about moving in with her. No, they didn't hate me that much. I was going to be attending college in the fall, and the campus was mere blocks from my sister's apartment. It was meant as a symbiotic move ; I needed a place to live, and she needed a roommate to help her make ends meet. After a short negotiation regarding the rent, Erica agreed to risk having her little brother disrupt her life.

I showed up at her door with a suitcase and a few boxes. I noticed that she hadn't reverted to her maiden name, and the building directory listed her as 'Erica McDonald'. Dad had given me a ride, and helped me move the boxes, then hung around for a while to make sure everything was cool between us. He needn't have worried.

"Hey Gig!" Erica smiled as she let us in. She looked good. Oh hell, she looked fantastic!

"Howdy, Hugs," I replied, then stepped in to get one. Her arms opened wide, and I felt the delicious softness of her breasts against me again. I had really missed them, err, that.

Surprisingly, I had also missed her pet name for me. I suppose my name for her, 'Hugs', is pretty self explanatory. Hers will be a bit more work.

Being her little brother, 'Stevie' was automatic. The mutations began as we grew up, and started using each other for emotional support. When I was upset, Erica would hold me, until I felt better, but she wouldn't let me leave until I gave her a smile and a laugh. The smile was easy, but sometimes the laugh took longer. Sometimes it took a little extra, and that's where the tickle came in. Before long, she'd have me giggling and squirming. I became 'Stevie-giggles', then just 'Giggles', before it was shortened to 'Gig'.

"Jeez Gig, you've gotten bigger," she laughed, feeling my shoulders, "and taller. It'll be handy having you here for stuff on the top shelves."

I had, indeed, filled out and up a bit since I had last spent any significant time with my sister. I wasn't the only one.

Erica seemed a bit more buxom to my eyes, with a more pronounced hourglass shape. It looked good on her. I just couldn't say it in front of my Dad.

I knew that Mom and Dad had tried to help Erica out with some cash from time to time, but she had refused. Pride, I guess, but providing me with a home made it an exchange of services, not charity, so it was accepted.

Dad had served his purpose on this trip, and had a long drive home ahead of him, so he gave each of us a hug, and headed out, leaving us alone together.

In a perfect world, we would have just picked up where we left off, but Erica had been living alone for nearly two years now, and she had become accustomed to doing things her way. I was going to take some getting used to.

"Okay, Hugs, are there any roomie ground rules I need to know about?" I asked, after I unpacked. I could only see her feet, and the top of her head, as she lounged on the couch with the remote in her hand. I took a few steps closer, and got a better view over the back of the couch. More like an eyeful.

Erica was wearing her nightgown, such as it was. Essentially an oversized, light blue t-shirt, with a v-neck, it had seen better days, and was tissue paper thin. Her attention was on the TV, so she didn't see my eyes bug out.

Her full, round breasts were barely covered, and her nipples tented the thin fabric where it stretched over the smooth curves. The neckline was tugged off centre, showing me the crease of cleavage between her boobs. She had one leg drawn up, and her pink panties were peeking out.

My silence got her attention at last, and she looked up at me, catching me ogling her. There was a gasp, and she realized what she was wearing, and what I was seeing.

"Shit!" she hissed, and leapt to her feet, dashing into her room. Her retreat only added to the situation, as I saw most of one large breast and half a nipple as her big tits swung unrestrained under her shirt. I also caught about half her firm ass, with a pink string up the middle, before she disappeared behind her door.

I closed my eyes, and exhaled.

Great start

, I thought.

Now she'll be pissed at me, and I can't get the pictures of her body out of my head.

I decided I'd just stay in my room.

About fifteen minutes later, there was a gentle knock on my door.

"Stevie? Can I come in?"

"Of course," I replied, and the door opened. Before she was all the way in, I apologized. "I'm sorry Erica. I didn't mean to..."

"Gig, it's hardly your fault," she smiled, sitting on the corner of my bed. She pulled he hair aside. I noticed she had changed into a pair of shorts and a more appropriate t-shirt...but her nipples still poked at the fabric. "I, uh, I guess I will need to be more aware of what I'm wearing around you. So, let that be roomie rule number one : appropriate clothing must be worn in public areas. Agreed?" she laughed.

"Roger that, Hugs," I nodded.

"Okay. We'll figure out the rest of the rules as we go," she said, and stood up. She paused at the door. "You know, it could have been worse. I've been known to watch TV naked." She winked. "Good night, Gig."

Oh, now why did she have to tell me that?

***

It was my parents idea that I move in well before school began. I was fine with that. It would give us a chance to reconnect before I had to spend more time with my studies. We had six weeks, and I didn't waste any time.

When I got up, the morning after my arrival, I found my sister doing a little hand laundry in the kitchen. The operative word is 'little'.

She was dressed, her big boobs harnessed and thrust out even more by her bra. I walked up behind her, and kissed the top of her head.

"Morning, Hugs. What's up today?" I asked her, peeking over her shoulder. She was wringing out a handful of orange fabric, while something white floated in the sink.

"I have a couple of hours before I need to go to work, but I'll only be gone about six hours. Then I'm home. No night job tonight," she smiled.

I knew she was stretched pretty thin, but I didn't know she was working two jobs. I suppose that meant my rent was going to be very much appreciated.

Erica was now shaking the white fabric out, and I saw the logo on the front. It dawned on me what I was looking at.

"Hugs...do you work..." I picked up the orange item, holding it open,"...at

Hooters

?" I grinned at her, inspecting the tiny orange shorts. I only knew she worked at a restaurant.

"Yes!" she giggled, snatching them from my fingers, "and now that you know, I'd appreciate you keeping it to yourself. Mom would shit if she knew!"

She was right about that. Mom would not be terminally thrilled with her baby girl flaunting her assets, serving chicken wings to drooling drunks. I'm not sure I liked it either, but I'd definitely like to see her in that little outfit. Somehow, I found that unlikely. I doubt the girls actually wore the skimpy garments

to

work, just

at

work, so the only way I'd likely see her body in it would be to eat there.

Hmmm. Maybe someday...

"Where's your night job?" I asked.

"Another restaurant," she smiled, "where I get to wear a little more. Not much more, mind you."

"You're okay with showing yourself off like that?" I questioned. It just somehow didn't seem like her.

"At first? It scared the hell out of me," she answered. "I didn't know if things would get out of hand. Now, I'm used to it, and most of the guys I serve are respectful, and keep their hands to themselves."

"Most? Not all?" I asked, a bit concerned. I didn't like the idea of someone pawing my sister.

"Unfortunately no, not all. Some guys seem to think a big tip entitles them to sample the goods. I've learned how to deal with overly handsy customers," she said confidently. "Most of them can be guilted into a bigger gratuity to atone for their wandering hands."

She saw the look of concern on my face, and caressed my face.

"Aww, Gig, don't worry about me, okay?" she whispered. "I'll admit, I'm not thrilled with it, and it's not what I saw myself doing. I didn't see myself divorced at twenty-one either, so I had to adapt. Could I have just come back home? Yes, and Mom really wanted me to, but I wanted to prove to myself that I could make it alone. If I have to use my looks to do it, so be it. I'm sure you've noticed...especially after last night...that I'm built, um... " she glanced down at her big, prominent globes.

"Rather attractively?" I ventured, hoping I wasn't revealing too much about my feelings.

"Thank you, Gig!" she smiled. "I was going to say something a little more graphic, but I like yours better. I admit that I don't mind knowing I'm still worth looking at. I suppose that's because of Eddie. He did a number on my self esteem for a while there. So when I got the job, and saw that other guys thought I was pretty, and started getting bigger and bigger tips, just for letting them check me out..."

"I understand, Sis," I said, stepping in and hugging her. She snuggled against me.

"I've saved just over ten grand since I started," she giggled.

What? We thought you were destitute.

"That's from both jobs," she continued. "I could probably get by on one, but I don't have much else to do with my time, so I'm making hay while the sun is shining."

"How much are we talking about here?" I asked.

"About $200 a night in tips, on average," she said.

"Really?!" I gasped. "Jeez, do they make those shorts in my size?" I joked. She laughed.

"I don't think you have the cleavage for it, buddy," she smiled, pulling back and shaking her tits at me. My eyes dropped to that deep valley of softness, then snapped back up, embarrassed.

"Sorry," I added, blushing.

"Eh... I'm used to it," she waved. "You know, you might look cute in these though," she giggled, holding her tiny shorts up in front of me.

She's quite the flirt

, I thought.

It's too bad she's my sister.

***

Erica and I settled into a routine. For the most part, I tried to stay out of her way. She could be a bit of a whirling dervish when she was getting ready for work, so after a few collisions, which I admit I enjoyed somewhat, she gave me a look that told me I should steer clear. I took to hiding in my room, and watching her flit about the apartment. It was entertaining.

I was able to resist dropping in on her for a late lunch...for four whole days. The anticipation was killing me.

I walked in alone, and took a seat, waiting about thirty seconds before a tall, curvy blonde came over to serve me. She was all legs, and quite cute, but her tank top was under populated. Compared to Erica, most women were.

"Hi," she bubbled, "I'll be your server today. My name's Barbie!"

Of course it is,

I thought.

How appropriate.

I ordered some lunch...finger food...and sat quietly, watching the TV while I waited. I didn't even see her behind me.

"Ahem..." I heard, and flinched. I turned slowly.

Erica stood there, with her tray held over her breasts, hiding them from me. She had a bemused but mildly annoyed expression.

"Not enough other places to eat?" she whispered. "You had to come here?"

"Sorry, Hugs..." I began.