Easton is an entirely fictional town which if it did exist would be in the UK, all the characters featured in this story are over eighteen. This story is to be in no way reproduced, for profit or otherwise, without my written consent.
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It all started the day mum bought him that bass guitar, that was the day my brother changed. Five years ago and he was a regular asshole of an older brother, all reclusive and whiney just because mum and dad liked me better. I was thirteen at the time and I have to admit a bit of a 'daddy's little princess' but still, no need to get so worked up about it. Then one day out of the blue he asked mum for a bass, we heard no more about it until mum actually bought him one, dad was outraged figured it was a waste of money, that he would never actually play it.
Boy was he wrong.
Sam played that thing constantly, six or seven hours a day, seven days a week, and it didn't take him long to get really good. Turns out he had a massive talent for music, could play anything he had heard a few times, not to mention his fingers were like a blur sometimes the ridiculously complex stuff he would play, he loved to see how complicated a tune he could play. That thing made noises I've never heard from any other instrument. Ever. But anyway, he changed.
He got really nice, all understanding and chilled, when our parents split up three years ago (I was fifteen he was seventeen) they told him and he just looked up and went "I guess it's for the best" and went right back to playing. It was like the thing sucked all his worries right out of him. Not that I was upset, before we hadn't exactly been close (read: not close at all) but after he cheered up a bit we got along better than we should really, I loved to listen to him playing almost as much as he loved to play and the two of us barely seemed to leave his room on the weekdays after school. Then came the day he left college, he had no interest in going to university and our parents had no interest in letting him loiter around the house playing his bass. So he left our sleepy little town for Easton with nothing but a few hundred quid, his bass and the promise of a job behind a bar when he got there. Not that it bothered him at all, he just shrugged and chimed a cheerful "bye then" before he disappeared. For the next few years we exchanged emails and tried to keep in contact but we never really spoke to each other or saw each other face to face, that was until I got a place at Easton University. I mentioned it to him in an email, and in passing said I hadn't found a place to stay yet. A few days later he sent a message back asking if I wanted to stay at his place, I was ecstatic, I would get to see my big brother again and he offered food and board for free. So I told mum and dad and a few weeks later was packed and ready to go, on my way to my brothers place to see him for the first time in two years.
And that's how I found myself here, driving through Downton Street, which I swore was the most expensive part of the city, looking for number twenty three and completely unable to believe that my brother lived here. The houses were almost twice as big as our house at home and the cars were so expensive that I felt bad driving my beat up Honda anywhere near them.
Seeing twenty three I pulled up, cautiously, into the driveway, stopped just in front of the garage and hesitantly walked up to the large polished door, my hand hovered just in front of the imposing oak as I fought with my disbelief. Sam had said Easton, and I was in Easton, he had said Downton Street, and I was at Downton Street, he had said twenty three, I was at twenty three. Gulping I knocked lightly on the door, there was a terror filled pause before I heard someone yell.
"It's not locked."
I nudged the door open and was immediately greeted by a gentle tune, one that I recognised, and hadn't heard in nearly three years. I knew without a doubt that I was in the right house, and burst into the nearby living room with a huge grin on my face.
"SAM!" I shouted happily as I saw the figure on the couch in front of me, they barely batted an eyelid at my noisy entrance, who else could it be but my brother?
Sam paused, pulled his bass off his shoulders, and stood up in front of me. "How ya been Sis?" he asked grinning at me and pulling me into a bear hug.
After a moment we pulled away and I looked at him properly, it was then that I noticed two things. One, he was shirtless. Two, he looked hot! I don't know what happened to the stick insect that left two years ago but he had beefed up, his torso was muscular and sleek and although he didn't have a full six pack his abs were much better defined then they had been. Add that to his cute puppy dog grin and short sandy blonde hair and I realised my brother looked, A lot, better than he had when he left.
Realising I was staring I pulled my eyes up to his face, mine came up a fraction of a second before his and I realised that while I had been checking him out he had been doing the same to me! I fought a blush, but embarrassed as I was I couldn't help but wonder if he liked what he saw.
***
Man April looked good! The second I had looked at her that fact had become apparent, before when I left the house she'd looked younger than she was, underdeveloped, but now! She had matured and had gone up a few cup sizes in two years, she now had a pair of gorgeous ample C cups, luscious long legs and hips that should be in the encyclopaedia under 'hourglass figure' or maybe just 'Perfect' add in her silky sandy blonde hair and she looked better than a lot of models.
My eyes slid over her body before flitting back up to meet hers, she could tell I was staring so I didn't bother denying it, instead opting for a more direct route. "Wow April," I said. "Looking good."
She looked taken back for a moment before laughing, "Thanks bro, I have to say you're not looking so bad yourself. What happened to the stick insect I used to tease because you could see his ribs if he lifted his arms up above his head?"
"He got a lot of free time on his hands and decided to start exercising more." I replied shrugging.
"How much free time can you possibly have if you can afford this?" she asked amazed, motioning around us.
I shrugged again, "You'd be surprised."
"So what'd you do?" she asked, "Win the lottery or something?"
"Doesn't matter," I said simply. "Come on let's get your stuff in from the car and then we can put your car in the garage."
She looked at me mischievously. "What, you got a secret or something? Do you really think you can get away with not telling me Sam?" She asked.
"Nothing you can say or do will make me tell," I replied laughing as we made our way back to her car.
That was the wrong thing to say, for the entire half hour we spent unloading her car she said six words, over and over again. "Where'd you get the money Sam?" it got to the point where I was begging her just to say something else, anything else.
