David is an 18 year old Senior in High School
And Sara is a 20 year old Freshman in College
It was the geography of the place that led to it all.
That's my excuse anyway.
My parents are divorced, and all of us live at home with my mom. My brother, my sister and me. We can't afford much and so I share a room with my brother, and the room isn't big so we have bunk beds. My sister gets her own room and so does mom.
I work and saved money so I could buy one of those flat screen LED TVs which, because it was mine, I could keep in my room. We don't have central air, what we do have is old non working window air conditioners that can get the temperature in the house down about ten degrees from outside and it is HOT, sweaty and hot.
So my little brother lays on the bottom bunk and I lay on the top bunk, we don't move around much lately, to watch TV and sometimes just to read. My sister likes to come in our room and watch TV too. She either lays on the bottom bunk with my little brother or the top bunk with me, and there is no regular pattern to it. Not like she is on the bottom bunk then the top every other time. It's random, so when she comes in who knows.
I lay so my head is at the top of my bed, and when she gets up on the bunk with me, she lays with her head at the bottom of the bed, usually on the right side and just hangs her chin over the edge to watch.
That is the geography. That is how it all started.
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My sister has long straight hair, sort of dishwater blond. She would be what you would call a late bloomer, but now she has a great figure. The change was so gradual that when it hit me it was like whoa. Today she would be described as cute, almost hot. She is a total tom boy, and looks a lot like the Daisy Mae cartoon character from L'il Abner, and she sure dresses that way! She is somewhat popular at school but none of us do much as far as activities. Oh, she is also tall and smart, and this makes her a little fearsome to boys in general, added to the fact she does not put up with much shit.
Like I said, it was hot and the house was hot, so I was wearing shorts and no T shirt. My sister was wearing short shorts and a halter top which, while wearing that, she was definitely hot. She was up on my bed watching TV, a show I was not interested in so I was reading. As I lay there I would glance up, looking over her body and for some reason that is what I kept doing this time. I noticed her breathing. Her halter was up high across her back, and her short shorts where tucked up tight between her legs, so I could see the crack of her ass. The way she was laying was also giving me a perfect side view of the edge of her breasts, their curve, the way they were held in that little halter. I had never ever before just lay and looked at her like that before, other than noticing at some point that she was pretty cute and sometimes hot. She didn't look back at me, she was just watching the TV.
At some point I decided to touch her.
I don't know why, I have no idea where the thought even came from, and my heart started pounding hard in my chest the moment the idea came to me. My arms started to tingle as I lay my hand right on her leg. I just lay it there, almost like it were an accident, right at the thigh. I waited. Until she would shew me away, or I don't know what. Her skin was soft and warm, she did not even register my touch. I thought she would like brush my hand away, or look back at me, give me a frown. Or something. But there was just no reaction. I left my hand there a long time, and she let me.
At some point I moved my hand, just a little, little wiggles of my fingers waiting for a reaction. But got none. It was weird, I was really expecting something, and was expecting to be stopped.
Her long hair was this messy mane falling around her shoulders, her feet were crossed at the ankle and her back was shiny with sweat from the heat below where her halter crossed at the middle of her back down to her shorts. I stroked my hand along the length of her thigh, along the back of her leg, and took in the feel of her skin, the curve of her thighs and got used to the fact that she did not react at all. So I began to rub my hands on the inside of her thighs, short strokes there, but then longer from her knees to just before the fabric of her shorts, feeling myself getting incredibly aroused as I did that. I also rubbed her calves awhile and her feet, but then I would rub her thighs back up higher until without any reaction at all I lay the palm of my hand right over her butt, right over the fabric of her shorts. It was really thin fabric and I could feel her panties under the shorts. They were tight, that cheap kind of fabric, fuzzy and thin, like running pants fabric. They were loose around her thighs, but tight over her butt, and I began to rub her ass over the fabric and then back down onto her thighs. I kept rubbing her all over like that.
Never once did she react, or look at me, or shoo me away.
When suddenly, for no reason at all, she lifted herself up and swung off the bed and left the room. Was it because of me, what I did? Was she mad? Did she like it?
That is how my little indiscretion was left that day.
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I have to say honestly that I was wracked with guilt. Touching Sara was something I could not stop thinking about, especially at night. And I had done it three times now! The same thing, the same way. Every time I saw her I could feel myself get warm, feel my ears turn red, but on her part there was absolutely no acknowledgment or indication that it had happened, or that she thought anything of it.
I would lay in my bed at night holding my hand in the air, the one I stroked her body with, stretching my fingers up over my face, imagining how they had caressed her smooth skin, imagining the curves of her soft thighs, the bare skin, how I rubbed her ass beneath that thin fabric, and the exquisite feel of her as my hand dipped down between her thighs. I could just feel her bare skin, its warmth and moist resistance on these hot days.
I lay in bed thinking about how Sara would come into the room, she would look up at me and down at my brother, standing there a moment deciding where to lay down. How my heart raced as she stood there - would she, this time, decide to crawl in with me? I cannot describe the feeling when she jumped up onto my bed and settled in beside me. The look of her legs, her ankles crossed up by my shoulder, and the feel of her thighs when I began rubbing her legs. As I lay there thinking about it all, I would tug my hard cock out and stroke myself as I would go over every detail, until hot spurts of cum would spray out of me and I would turn over and finally fall asleep.
But I felt guilty and tried to stop, vowing to never let it happen again.
I would lay on my bed looking at her body, as she lay watching TV. Sara laying down on her stomach with her chin over the edge of the bed, her bare legs extending up right beside me. I truly tried not to touch her; and once, one time I did not. But it was overwhelming, the urge.
I had become an utter pervert, and I would chastise myself for thinking about my sister, of doing this to my sister. What had it been? Five, six times now. But, she never stopped me. She was complicit. I convinced myself the only reason I was doing this was because she would not stop me. No resistance to my touch at all, had she batted me away once, it would be over. One look. I'd never do it again.
Her gaze on me at the breakfast table displayed not even a hint that I had touched her, run my fingers up her long legs the day before, or stroked her soft ass and squeezed her thighs up high between her legs, or slid my hands over her lower back, slippery with sweat.
Nothing.
I had a hard time talking when she was around now. Not like we sat around having deep conversations, but we did talk about stuff, normal stuff. The simplest utterances were a greater effort for me now. I was always wondering what she was thinking. I had this whole side dialog anytime we talked, anytime she even looked at me, some sign. Our birthdays were coming up, which was something we could talk about. We were one year apart, both Geminis. We celebrated them at the same time with the family, and then would have separate parties with our friends. We usually got something for each other.
One morning she sat next to me on the swing on the front porch, intent on a conversation. Every time she sat beside me now I startled, half expecting her to talk about IT, or give me some sort of look. But she never did.
She just sat down and said, "Hey. I have a question. I haven't decided what I'm going to get you for your birthday yet. You already got everything. Any ideas?"
I shrugged, "No. Don't get me anything. I don't need anything." It was the guilt talking. I could have said, no not after what you are already 'giving' me.
She continued, "Ok. Well, I haven't decided, but I got some ideas, of where I can look anyway. If you think of anything ..."
"Better start looking then."
She went to get up and then paused, "What about me?"
"Huh. Oh. You'll see." She sat staring at me. I had no idea what to get her, this was getting uncomfortable.