It happens to everyone: that one moment when you see something you shouldn't be seeing, and even though you know you should look away, you don't – you're trapped, your attention consumed by the forbidden sight before you. For me it was my sister's breasts.
I had simply barged into the bathroom one day, giving no thought to who might be in there. It doesn't lock, our bathroom, so usually a closed door means 'occupied'. I knew that, yet I guess I was in a hurry, perhaps busting to take a piss; I can't remember now. I can remember nothing of the entire event other than those brilliantly sculpted mounds of soft flesh, protruding from my 18-year-old sister's chest.
Once the door swung open, the first sight I had was of my sister's bare back, devoid of even a bra strap, which immediately told me she was topless. She wore a pair of pink shorts, and nothing else. My attention was drawn to the mirror, where I could see them. I felt her eyes on me, also via the mirror, and somewhere in my head I registered the fact that she wasn't screaming.
I glanced up at her face, which looked both annoyed and amazed. "Jason!" she exclaimed, though not loudly. Her tone merely said "you shouldn't be looking at me." I couldn't move; I was riveted to the spot. Messages in my brain told me to turn away, to run away, but my feet wouldn't move. Finally, my sister put an arm across her breasts and turned to me directly. Still, her tone wasn't as sharp as I would have thought.
"Jason! Get out." Definitely not as sharp as it could be. It sounded more like she were explaining to me what to do in this particular situation.
I tore my eyes away from her chest with a huge physical and mental effort before I walked as casually as I could back to my room. Shamefully, I grabbed a wad of tissues and beat myself off, thinking of my sister's breasts. Afterwards I felt like total crap, like the vilest thing on the planet.
With a clearer mind, I realised then that I'd made a huge mistake. Not because she would tell our parents, but rather because I had now given her something that was utterly invaluable to a competitive sibling; a weapon which she could use against me. I could picture it now; my younger sister, prancing around the house in skimpy outfits and purposefully dropping things on the floor, only to torture me as she bent down to pick them up. I was not wrong.
***
The following day, I was already seated at the kitchen table, eating breakfast, whilst mum was cooking her own toast. Dad had left for work an hour ago. My sister, Jamie, who usually wore her dressing gown to breakfast, was already in her school uniform when she slid onto the seat opposite me. My spoon stopped its journey to my mouth and hung in the air for a few seconds. Jamie was wearing the normal red and green chequered skirt of her school, only this one had to be one of her shortest. The top button of her loose-fitting white shirt was undone, revealing the soft skin of her neck and upper chest. The shoes were the normal black school shoes and her socks reached up to her knees. What was truly different though was that her long blonde hair was drawn into pigtails, ensuring that she wouldn't look out of place on a fetish porn site.
"That skirt's a bit short isn't it, darling?" mum asked.
"It's hot today, mum," Jamie replied. "And most of the others are dirty." Mum didn't pursue the subject further.
Jamie looked at me, innocently, curiously. I knew she was trying to gauge my reaction, see if she was evoking a rise out of me. Of course she was, but I wouldn't let her know that. I went back to my cereal.
Minutes later, mum left the room. Jamie seized her chance.
"Do you have Uni today?" she asked.
"Yeah," I replied.
"What time?"
"I've got a lecture at eleven."
"So when will you be back?"
I looked at her curiously. "I don't know. Two, at the latest. Why?"
"I was just wondering if you could pick me up from school."
"Why?"
"Because it's hot!" she said, as though I should have realised. It was a hot day. The entire week had been a scorcher. And I guess it would be cruel to make her walk home on a day like this. Mum would be out all day, so she wouldn't be able to pick her up. I guess it fell to me then.
"Alright, what time?"
"Two-thirty, out the front." I nodded. "Thanks," she said, smiling sweetly and returning to her own cereal.
***
The day dragged by slowly, as hot days usually do. I was in my first year at Uni, still only 19. My lecture was a bore, as usual, and I found myself strangely looking forward to seeing my sister again. At the time, I gave no thought as to why I wanted to see her again so soon.
I was back at the house by five-past-two, enough time to grab a glass of water and change my clothes. I hopped back in my car and drove out to Jamie's high school, my old school. She was waiting out the front when I arrived, leaning against the fence, alone. I pulled up beside her and she jumped into the passenger seat.
"Hey, Jason," she chirped cheerfully.
"Hey," I replied. "Were you waiting for long?"
"A few minutes. It was fine."
I drove back home again, my eyes shifting constantly between the road and the exposed skin of my sister's thighs.
"So how was your day?" I asked, in an effort to keep my mind off her body.
"Fine," she sighed. "Same old shit. It was too hot to do anything really. What about you?" She had turned towards me, her big brown eyes levelled on my face. "The same," I said. "Hot and shitty." She laughed, then stretched her arms back behind her head, pushing her chest out prominently.
You little minx, I thought to myself.
We arrived back at the house five minutes later, peeling our backs off the seats and traipsing inside to the air-conditioned interior. Jamie kicked her shoes and socks off. Oddly, I found even the sound of her bare feet padding on the floorboards to be a turn on.
My eyes followed her to the kitchen sink, where she wet her hands and ran them around her neck and down her chest. "It is so hot," she said.
