I hadn't seen my baby sister in three years. At seventeen she decided that she wanted to move to Europe, with a promising husband and a wonderful job waiting for her there. She had met him on the internet and the relationship had apparently (I was not privy to every detail) evolved from cybersex into friendship, then through emails and phone calls into a fully blown romantic relationship.
My parents were not very happy to welcome the older guy (he was about 27 at the time) for a month long visit in 2001, but they grudgingly accepted. Sadly, things didn't work out very well between them and he left early, to the great humiliation of my sister Dasha. A month later she announced that she was moving to Europe to find her husband. My parents were shattered by the news (as there had been no place for negotiation), but were too proud to do anything drastic about it.
I hadn't really liked the French guy myself, but it was clear that my sister was really happy with him. I was saddened when she left as we really enjoyed each other's company, but what else could I do? She kept in touch with me more or less regularly, mostly through emails, but physical distance finally created emotional distance after a year or so. We wrote to each other every two or three months, nothing more.
I was shocked, three weeks ago, when I received an email from her: her oh-so-wonderful husband had thrown her out of his home. I just couldn't believe it: he had all but literally thrown her out. Dasha hadn't said why, and I had a feeling that I'd never know the full story. It was clear from her email, though, that she was in a bind, with nowhere to go or live. I guess that most of her friends were that creep's friends, and that they wouldn't help her now that she was not with him anymore. One of her friends from work had offered her couch, but Dasha said that she was only barely welcomed there.
So after wrapping things up at work, as she needed good recommendation papers for her next job, she was flying back to the States. She couldn't come back to our parent's house, not yet anyway, so I offered her the guest room at my place. She even begged me not to tell anything to either mom or dad, that she would find a way to talk to them soon. I didn't think that it was such a good idea, to hide the fact that she was coming back, but it was her decision to make.
Here I was, sitting along at the airport, waiting for flight 322, wondering how our reunion would go. After she had outgrown her fourteen and fifteen year old rebellious phase, we had gotten along really good. To the point of doing things together like camping, skiing, and even little things like watching movies together. I'd been living on my own for the past 5 years when we began reconnecting, being six years older than her, but she'd often come to my place just to hang around. It was a bit peculiar, I know, but we really did have a great time together.
One question was worrying me, as I was sitting near the large gate: would I recognize her instantly? I was sure that I would, but on the other hand I had no idea what she had done to her appearance during those three years or so. When she left three years ago, she had been a tall teenager with a tight body and short dark red hair. In fact, one of her favorite pound-on-herself subject was her body: "I look like a kid!" she'd often complain at 16 and 17. Small breasts, barely-there hips and long skinny legs. I knew she had the potential to become a really good looking woman, having seen many young girls flourishing at around 19, but she never believed me. What would she look like now?
Well, I was about to find out: the gates were opening. I *did* recognize her instantly in the end. She was still the tall girl I remembered even though her hair were now much longer and her figure had matured quite nicely. She smiled broadly when she saw me and ran into my arms laughing and hugging me tight.
"Wow! You've been working out brother!"
I had. "Well yeah, it helps when the gym's in your basement!"
"You look great!" she grinned, looking me up and down.
She pulled me into her arms again, laughing. But after a few seconds it was clear that she wasn't all that joyous, but that the recent events had taken a toll on her. I kept my arms around her as she relaxed, and I felt that she was close to tears. We got her things and headed back home. She did cry on the way back, filling me in on the particulars of her last months as well as letting all that tension blow over.
A stroke of luck in a computer project I had begun while still in high school had given me more than enough money to live comfortably for the rest of my life. I sold my ideas and patents, two years ago, to a huge company I respected; one I was sure would keep doing great work on my brainchild. Why did I sell out? Two reasons, the first one being 10 million dollars. The second one was even more compelling: bureaucratic nightmare! Ten different licensees, my app bundled with 23 different suites or applications, overall selling about 250 000 copies. So I had two choices: becoming a full time (15 hours a day) boss, hire employees to work for me, deal with clients, publishers, support groups and so become a completely stressed out multi-millionaire; or else make 10 million dollars with one pen stroke and live care-free for the rest of my life. Now all I had to deal with was a really competent broker/investor and my financial future was settled.
Of course my sister knew about all of this, but she was not prepared for the house she saw when I rolled onto the driveway.
"Wow! That's impossible bro!" and then she laughed out loud.
"Well, did you think I'd live in a puny little house sitting on ten million dollars?"
"No, of course not, but I hadn't imagined this!"
I had bought myself an old hunting lodge for a insanely rich family. For some reason they decided to sell it along with the incredibly large piece of land and mountain on which it was sitting. A beautiful mixture of logs and large stones, my house was a two story high wonderland for nature lovers. And even though I made my 6 year career in computers, I still love the outdoors! I think this house was what really convinced me to sell: it was 2 million dollars and even though I was worth more than that at the time, I couldn't pay such an amount without loosing most of my controlling shares.
Anyway, Dasha was giggling in delight now, walking around the mansion and enjoying the view. Oh yes, the last detail: the mansion was on a mountainside and there were more hiking and skiing trails that I could count. Even a small lake an hour or so away. The late summer day was still warm and the imminent sunset was showing all the sings of an incredible show, but Dasha was too tired to really appreciate it right now. I showed her the guest room, across the hall from mine, and she dropped on the bed, falling asleep instantly.
At first I thought that she was kidding, but after a minute or so of not responding to my questions, Dasha began to snore lightly. I laughed and decided to get her properly under the blankets. I pulled her running shoes off, then her socks and even pulled the zipper of her pants down until I realized what I was doing. This was not my adolescent sister anymore. She was now 21 years old and a stunning beauty to boot! I started to get off the bed and leave her be, then I shook my head: she was my sister damn it! And even though I had been single for the last year or so, there was no way I was going to see my very own little sister as a sexual object!
Yet as her long legs came into view, I was not so sure anymore. Firm flesh, unblemished skin, nice hips and a tiny little pair of panties. Hmmm. I decided to leave her tee shirt where it was and to simply pull the thin blanket over her. But she was lying *over* the blanket. I began turning her over, saying her name so that she would wake up for a second or two. But she didn't wake up and I had to turn her over. A thong. That tiny pair of panties were in fact a thong. Oh my God: I was staring at my sister's ass like a lewd old man! By an act of will, I turned her over once more and managed to free the blanket.
I sighed as I closed the door behind me, hoping that she wouldn't mind too much. I was not so sure that undressing her was a good idea anymore, but I was about to put her pants back on! I spent the evening in fear that she would wake up and scream, calling me a pervert from across the house...
She didn't: she slept all the way to 10 o'clock next morning. The first thing I heard from her room as I was cooking breakfast were those words:
"Wow David! This really smells wonderful!" she said in a slightly sleepy voice.
"Eggs and bacon ready for you Dash... You coming?"
"Yeah..." she said through a yawn, walking out of her room.
