...All characters in this story are at least 18 years old...
*
My sister and I have always been very close, being only 10 months apart in age (I was the younger). Our family moved around a lot due to my father's job, and we learned early on that if we stuck by one another, it would make things a whole lot simpler, as we were never able to keep any long-term friends due to all the moving. So we spent nearly every afternoon of our adolescence together.
Pam really began to blossom in high school. She turned into quite the looker -- she already had a heart-melting smile, beautiful light blue eyes which were wonderfully accented by a smattering of freckles on her face, and long, curly, auburn hair. But what was really becoming quite clear was how special she looked with her strong, muscular legs that found their way up to a very taut ass and her amazing breasts that were really beginning to turn guys' heads. By our senior year (we were both held back a year, due mostly to bouncing around from school to school because of our father's job) she was a full C cup, but it was never "too much" the way that large breasts can sometimes be. No, they were absolutely perfect.
By this point, I had also developed a physique that was also garnering some attention. My father had finally settled down about a couple of years prior so we were able to take root in a small New England town. I had joined the baseball team my sophomore year, but wasn't quite good enough to become a starter until I was a senior By then, I had turned 18 and was really getting quite good at hitting. The captain of the baseball team -- Steve, also a senior (who shared the same first name as I, though I usually went by Stephen) -- had been dating my sister for awhile and he and I hit it off well.
One thing that had changed somewhat was Pam's overall demeanor, and the reaction it was having on me. Though she hadn't allowed herself to get involved with any guys when we were on the move, and now that we'd settled and she had begun dating Steve, she was now far more outgoing and flirtatious. Many of the baseball guys joked about it with both Steve and I, but we took it all in stride. But sometimes it was admittedly frustrating to hear other guys talking about how badly they wanted to fuck my sister. I have to admit, there were times that I'd find myself checking her out and getting a bit aroused. It was hard not to...she had taken to wearing pretty revealing clothing -- short mini-skirts, low-cut shirts, sweaters that seemed to be a size too small for her (I still fondly remember one that looked to be made of the same stuff as those strawberry-shortcake ice cream bars. To this day, if I see one of those ice cream treats, I nearly get a hard-on). And her mannerisms around me were different than they used to be too. I think I had done such a good job at becoming "one of the guys" that the same flirtatious behavior she showed around them she had begun to show around me.
Both of my parents worked until the early evening, so for a few hours after school she and I were home alone. Pam liked to shower when she first got home from school, and there were many times where she'd come fresh from the bathroom with only a tiny towel wrapped around her. She'd pause in the living room and have a conversation with me, showing off her long, creamy-skinned legs and freckled shoulders. As we'd talk, the top of that towel would drop a little lower...and a little lower...and a little lower, until the tops of her areolas would begin to show. It was always at that point that I would begin to stammer and be unable to look away, and she'd say something like "Ohhh, I guess I better go get dressed...It's probably embarrassing for you to have to talk to me while I'm practiacally exposing myself like this...look how red you're getting!" Embarrassed? No. Flustered and incredibly turned on? Yes. And sometimes the towel seemed to shrink in the opposite direction. These were the times that she'd actually come in and sit down to talk to me, with just that towel covering her. Again, the same thing: as we talked, that towel would ride up and up and up until it was just inches away from showing off the Promised Land. She'd get up, say something else about me being embarrassed, and tussle my hair as she walked past.
There were other things, too. Our conversations had turned a lot to relationships. She would ask my opinion a lot on different experiences she was having with Steve. She was very jealous of this other girl that was seemingly trying to catch his eye, and would ask my advice on how to handle the situation. She asked how I was doing with the ladies (not too badly, actually). She'd ask me if the other guys talked about her at all. She really seemed to like their attention.
And then one day, a day in which I was feeling very horny, she had her shower and came out of the bath with the towel wrapped around her. She stopped to talk to me in the living room again, and the towel was parted a little higher up her thigh than usual. I can't even remember what we were talking about when that damn towel accidentally dropped to the floor, landing mostly behind her. She yelped a little, turned around and quickly bent over to pick it up. The whole thing lasted for about 4.2 seconds, but in my mind's eye it all happened in slow motion. I had a wonderful, yet fleeting, glimpse of her freckle-covered tits, and her reddish-brown patch of hair covering her lower womanhood. I also had a tremendous look at her perfect ass. I had expected her to run off, but she didn't. She just hastily wrapped it back around her, turned back to face me and continued talking. I was as hard as I'd ever remembered being before, and I knew that from the position I was in, she'd clearly be able to tell (when I'm hard I'm easily a thick 7 inches -- tough to conceal in a pair of gym shorts). I didn't even care that she would see. And yes, she certainly noticed. I could tell by her stuttered speech and her own flushed complexion that she had indeed noticed; and there was also the fact that she couldn't stop staring at my crotch. Yes, there was all that, and one other tell-tale sign: I could see her nipples harden beneath the fabric of the towel. They looked incredible, and long! She concluded the point she was trying to make about something or other and went up to her room to finish getting dressed. I followed shortly after to go to my own room to jerk off. It was the first time that I had consciously imagined my own sister as I lied in my bed and stoked myself off. I think I saw stars when I finally came. I had just finished cleaning everything up when I heard a soft knock on my door.
"Stephen, can I come in?" If she had been any sooner, I don't know what I would have done. I quickly hopped back on my bed and told her to come in. She was wearing a pair of pink shorts, and a tight little t-shirt with the name and mascot of our school baseball team on it. She wasn't wearing a bra. "Stephen, can I talk to you about something personal?" She came over and sat next to me on the bed. "It's very personal, are you sure you don't mind?''
"Of course not, Pam."
