This is a revision of a story I published on Literotica many years ago. Thanks to "AirSearch1' for editorial assistance. This story is a work of fiction and all characters and events are fictional.
*****
I looked at Deirdre over the top of my newspaper. She was concentrating on a jigsaw puzzle. The tip of her tongue just peeking out between her lips. I grinned. My thoughts ran back to when we'd been in our late teens and I'd gotten Dee to play "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
Truth be told, she started the whole thing. She'd wandered into my room with an odd look on her face. I'd tossed my comic book aside and asked her what she wanted. She wore a tee shirt without a bra, which was different. Even stranger, she stated she'd show me her boobs if I'd show her my cock. Being a horny teenage boy, I jumped to my feet and whipped my shorts and underwear to the floor before she could change her mind. She smiled and slowly pulled her shirt off over her head. Then she stepped out of her shorts as well, leaving her naked.
Dee's tits had been the first I'd seen in person. Too my delight, she'd even let me touch one. The left one. Once. I'd been so excited I touched it timidly. Afraid to harm it or hurt her. I could still feel the warm firm flesh. The satin soft skin and small nipple that'd hardened at my gentle pinching. Her pubic hair had looked like fluffy down, but my lack of experience had kept me focused on the marvelous treasure that was her breasts.
The mere sight of her body had brought my cock to attention. Fair was fair, I'd touched her. She'd wanted to touch me. As thrilled as I'd been viewing her body and touching her breast it didn't match the shiver that ran through my body when she'd squeezed my naked cock. The game was over with that touch. She'd snatched up her clothes and left me alone with my aching hard on.
In the privacy of my room I'd jerked off over and over until my cock was sore or the tissue box was empty. I didn't recall which calamity occurred first exactly, but my sister had moved to the top of my fantasy list thanks to the game.
No matter how much I begged, no matter how many times I swore to do the dishes, she'd never played the game with me again. Her response was always the same, "A girl must be allowed to keep her modesty." She'd done just that regarding me. I never got another glimpse of her naked body.
Maturity had brought understanding. Dee had been as curious about male anatomy as I'd been about female. Showing me hers was a safe price she'd been willing to pay to satisfy that curiosity.
I sat there pretending to read the paper, watching her. I wondered if Dee kept the memory of that day as a treasure like I had. Did she remember it at all? Deirdre looked up and caught me staring. She flashed a grin, then returned to her attention to the puzzle.
Deirdre had been widowed two years earlier. Her husband was a dirt bag and left her with crippling debt and little hope. She'd gotten a little money to help out from her kids and me, but she'd lost the house anyway. Now she worked at a department store and lived with me, her divorced brother.
I was happy she was living with me. I liked Dee's company. She was smart, funny, and a great conversationalist. She also gave the house a lived in, woman's feel. I knew it was silly, but she'd returned to the top of my list. Deirdre, a year older than me at forty-two, was an attractive woman and time had only worked to refine her allure. She slept in the room down the hall from mine.
The difficulty was how to approach the subject with her. Since we'd been living together rumors had floated to the surface from time to time. Mostly in the form of teasing from one or more of our grown children. Hers, more so than mine. Deirdre and I laughed off those jokes, or ignored them.
I didn't want to alienate her if she didn't share my incestuous inclination. My mind raced thinking of scenarios in which she might agree with me and consummate what, to my mind, began so long ago.
Deirdre leaned back and stretched her arms out to her sides. Her breasts strained against her tee shirt's fabric. Of course, they were much larger now than when we'd played the game. "So, Marsh, what sort of perverted scheme are you concocting over there behind your paper?"
I folded the paper and dropped it on my lap. "Not scheming. Taking a walk down memory lane, thinking about us when we were kids."
Deirdre's brilliant smile graced her lovely face. "We had a lot of fun back then didn't we?"
"We did. Speaking of fun, I was thinking maybe we should go out and catch a movie, maybe get a few drinks afterward. Maybe even do a little dancing or something."
"Are you asking me out on a date?" Deirdre said with a giggle.
"I suppose so, but you know, just a platonic thing. You need to get back in the saddle or back on the bike or whatever it is they say now days."
"Trying to get rid of me?" Deirdre crossed her arms below her breasts. "Going to pawn me off on the first douche that comes along?"
"Of course not. You've already had more than your share of douche bags. But when's the last time you had an evening out on the town? With a guy?"
Deirdre stared up at the ceiling for a moment. "Raymond. I went out with Ray about a year ago. When was the last time you went out?"
I smiled back at her. She knew I hadn't dated at all since my divorce. "You're making my point for me."
Deirdre thought for a moment. The gears were turning. I knew her well enough to know she'd get around to a decision sooner without me pushing harder.
"You know, that sounds like fun. What show do you want to see?" Deirdre said.
I folded the paper to the theater section and handed it to her. "Lady's choice."
She glanced at the selections, then looked up. "Well, there's not much showing that I'm dying to see, but Clooney's usually a good bet."
"Sounds good. Why don't you get dolled up and I'll call the theater and confirm the showtimes."
She cocked her head to one side and smirked. "Are you implying I don't look good enough to be seen in public with my little brother?"
I cringed. "No, you look fine, but I figured if we were playing at date-night, you'd want to look the part."
Deirdre raised an eyebrow at me. "Casual I hope."
I nodded. "Yeah, of course."
***
After the show, we took a cab to a club I knew. It was sort of upscale without being pretentious. They had a generally mature clientele and usually had a band or DJ. We grabbed a couple drinks, claimed a table, then hit the dance floor.
The first few songs were upbeat. Deirdre and I laughed at each other and shook our booties from about three feet apart. We drew a few stares and smiles from younger patrons, but we ignored them.
A guy, who may have had a few too many, shouted at the DJ to play something slow and the DJ obliged.
I seized the opportunity and pulled Deirdre close as the music started. I'd always been a better than average dancer and welcomed this chance to hold her close. I reveled feeling her body pressed softly against mine. We got into a rhythm and swayed in time with the melody.
I absorbed her honeysuckle fragrance. Deirdre was warm and soft, her left breast and hip pressed tight to my side. My hand strayed from the small of her back to the top of her butt. I successfully fought off the urge to squeeze.
Deirdre gave me a look. Something between surprise and curiosity, but she didn't move my hand or pull away.
