Fuck my sister.
Seriously, she was so annoying.
She stood in front of me, one hand on her insolently-cocked hip, making some dubious point in some smug way, and all I wanted to do was yell at her.
But I didn't. I just turned and walked outside.
I'd been away for the past two weeks and only been back a couple of days, but if I thought I could enjoy the rest of my holidays at home in peace and quiet I should've known better. Dad had left yesterday on a work trip, leaving me in the house with Mom and Emma. It should've been fine -- it was only four weeks to go before I could head back to college -- but Emma was such a brat, and if anything, she seemed to have gotten worse.
It was like she was looking for a reaction or something. Pushing for some kind of response.
She followed me out onto the deck; I heard her behind me.
"It's one short trip. It'll take you, like, half an hour."
"It's half an hour there, and half an hour back. Then you're gonna want me to pick you up afterwards, too. That's two hours."
"It's not like you have anything else to do."
That was irritatingly close to the truth, but hardly the point. "You haven't even said 'please'." I turned to face her, "Plus, if you wanted me to say yes, maybe you could've tried being nice to me at some point since I got back home. But instead it's 'Alex, will you just...' and 'Alex, while you're up...' and 'Alex, get me a coffee'. I'm not your slave, Em, and the answer is no. Get an Uber."
She glared at me, then turned around with a sashay of her ass in those ridiculous tight shorts and flounced back into the house.
I sighed. Thing is, I probably would've agreed if she'd been even slightly nice to me. I'd always been fond of her and she was so damn cute. If she'd but graced me with a smile or asked nicely I probably wouldn't have been able to resist. But she hadn't. Her self-entitled, imperious attitude was grating on my nerves, and I didn't feel like spending two hours in the car merely to reinforce her views that I'd do whatever she told me to.
Fuck that shit, and fuck her.
And now I felt like a selfish bastard for not agreeing to drive her.
I sighed again, watching the evening sun reflect off the pool.
Inside, I could hear Emma complaining to Mom. I didn't even need to hear the words to know, from the tone alone, that I was being bad-mouthed. I'd just about had it with that girl.
When we'd been growing up, she'd been the cute little sister that had adored her big brother. She was eighteen months my junior; close enough in age for us to have a lot in common. She was nineteen, I'd recently turned twenty-one. And how things had changed of late.
She'd developed, for starters. Breasts. An ass. I turned around and one day where there had been my gawky little sister, there was now the most beautiful, foxiest girl I knew in real life. Hell, she was nicer than most of the girls I saw online, too. She had the perfect figure; slender and trim, with just the right amount of curves in all the right places. A few inches shorter than me, though quite often she seemed even smaller still, not least because she tended to walk around barefoot, while I did not. Bare feet made her seem more vulnerable, somehow -- that, or sexier. I couldn't decide which. But she was my little sister; 'sexier' was a word I had to keep inside my head.
It didn't help that she dressed around the house as though no one could see her. Which, I guess, was only fair. It was just me and our parents, and they never saw her as anything other than cute little Em. She had Dad wrapped around her little finger, and Mom never had a bad word against her. They certainly never seemed to pay attention when she wore the kind of stuff she was wearing, well, right now. A pair of really short shorts that showed all of her long, smooth legs. A tight, strappy tank-top that showed glimpses of her bare stomach. No bra, for fuck's sake. Like her breasts were almost fully on display. I swore I could see her areola through the thin material, her nipples almost poking through the white cotton. Did she know how she looked?
If she wore that sort of thing out of the house, she'd be called a slut. But it wasn't out of the house, and the only one who seemed to care was me.
It hadn't been like this before I'd left two weeks before, either. She'd dressed more modestly before, I was sure of it, but in the almost-three days since I'd been back it had been the same every day. Even worse, yesterday, before Dad had left. Yesterday she'd been wearing a really short, swishy skirt that barely made it down past the curve of her ass. The sort that suggested she'd be flashing everyone if she bent over even slightly, and it had been paired with a crop top that barely covered her breasts. Talk about under-boob. Dad hadn't even seemed to notice, even when she'd given him a lingering cuddle at the door. I'd had to look away, it was almost indecent.
She'd been really cut up about him going, though. He was only away for two weeks; I didn't get the tears. It wasn't like it was unusual for him, with his work.
"Alex? Could you come in here a moment?" I heard Mom call me.
Sighing, I pushed myself off the railing of the deck and headed back inside. This wasn't going to be fun.
They were standing in the kitchen. Emma still had her hands on her hips, seemingly unaware of how aggressive her body language was. Mom was leant against the counter, trying to look nonchalant, but I could tell she was awkward. There was tension in the air, which was interesting. It meant Mom hadn't fully bought in to Em's bullshit this time.
"Alex, Em says you don't want to drive her over to Milly's house this evening."
"Yep, that's right." I said, guardedly.
"Do you have other plans?" Mom asked, her tone light.
"Not particularly."
Mom nodded, as though she already knew this. "Any particular reason why you've said 'no'?"
"Well... because she didn't ask nicely." It sounded a bit lame by itself. And she's been a complete bitch, but I couldn't really say that.
Mom raised an eyebrow at Em. "There you are, then. Perhaps you need to treat your brother with more respect."
She pulled a face that quite clearly showed what she thought of that idea. Where was the Em that had looked up to me all those years? She sure as hell wasn't standing in this kitchen. "Can't you make him drive me? It's not like he's doing anything else!"
"No, I can't 'make him drive you'. It's his car, and he paid for it with his own money."
That wasn't entirely true; Mom and Dad had helped more than a little. But yes, I'd paid more than half, and the running costs were all mine. Mom could easily have said I owed it to Em, so long as Em paid for the fuel or something. But she hadn't. I got the impression she didn't care much for Emma's attitude, and it was that more than anything which caused her support to come down on my side for once.
Emma glared at both of us, then flounced out. Hopefully going up to her room, where I wouldn't have to see her again for a while.
Mom sighed. "That girl needs a good spanking," she said, shaking her head.
I blinked at her in surprise. We'd never been spanked; Mom and Dad didn't like the idea one little bit. I'd never heard Mom talk like that. She must've been joking.
"It's a shame her father is away for two weeks." She glanced at me, "That makes you the man of the house around here, now."
"Uh... yeah, I guess. He'll be back before you know it, Mom." I held my arms out to her. "Do you need a hug?" I probably asked a bit awkwardly. Mom wasn't the touchy-feely type. She didn't really show affection to her kids, but I just sensed that maybe she wanted to be asked. Perhaps she was missing Dad more than usual too.
She didn't hesitate, simply stepped across the room and into my arms. She pressed herself against my chest and laid her head on my shoulder, and I felt her arms come tightly around my waist. "I'm so glad you're back, Alex," she said.
I let my arms go around her gently, feeling even more awkward. I hadn't really expected her to say yes, and now we were cuddling in a way that seemed strangely intimate. She was pressed to me practically from thigh to shoulder, and I could feel her breasts pushing into my chest through the thin sun dress she was wearing. She had Em's figure, too, and she was in great shape. Any other woman pressing herself to me like this and I'd have to resist cupping her ass. That would most certainly not be applicable with Mom.
She pulled away only enough to look up at me, and it served to arch her back and push her hips more into me. "I don't think Emma's being at all fair to you, and I think she really needs to learn some respect."
"Well, yeah, I guess," I said, surprised she would vocalize something so evidently biased. She usually didn't get involved in our arguments.
She rested one palm against my chest. "Well, like I said, you're the man of the house now. If she's being so disrespectful, you should deal with her as you see fit."
"Thanks Mom," I said, a little unsure of what that meant. I guess it meant I didn't have to drive her anywhere.
She kissed my cheek -- another surprise -- then slipped away from me. "I'm going to go take a bath."
"Okay, Mom."
*
It had been a long day. I had intended to watch some TV, but found myself lying on the couch reading my Kindle instead. I was still processing the earlier encounters with Emma and Mom, and watching TV left my mind too much time to roam, whereas reading was more engaging. It meant I could put off dealing with the stressors, at least for a bit longer.
The summer sun had begun to dip beneath the horizon and the room was gloomy in the dusk. My Kindle was an app on my phone, lit well enough, so I hadn't yet felt a need to get up and turn the lights on. Perhaps that was why Emma hadn't realized I was sitting there in the near-dark.
I was only aware she'd crept in when my car keys jangled in the bowl beside the front door, and it took a moment for the sound to register. Then I sat up abruptly, watching her as she prepared to sneak out of the house. Presumably intending to take my car.
"Going somewhere, Emma?"
She jumped so hard it was almost funny.
"Alex! Fuck, you scared the shit out of me!"
I rose from the couch, keeping my eyes on the hand that I was pretty sure held my keys. "Off out?" I asked, my tone still casual.
"Yes. And if I don't leave right now, I'm going to be late."
"Oh? Is the Uber here?"
"Er... yes." She had one hand on the door latch.
"Well, have a nice time, then."
"Thank you," she said, opening the door.
"Oh, Emma?" I said, walking over to her.
"Yes?" she said, not quite turning.
I closed my hand around her wrist. "You won't be needing my keys, will you?"
She froze within my grip, and for a long moment said nothing. Then, "Oh, how silly of me! I must have picked up your keys by accident."
It was artfully done. If it hadn't been for the pause, the slight tremor, it might almost have convinced me. My jaw clenched as I prized my keys from her hand and dropped them back in the bowl. "I think you're lying to me," I said, keeping my grip on her wrist. Maybe she heard the coolness in my tone.
"Don't be silly, Alex. It was an honest mistake."
"Okay, fine. Let's have a little bet." We used to 'have little bets' all the time growing up. About inconsequential stuff, usually. No stakes or small stakes; just a game we played. We hadn't done it in a while. I didn't wait for her to agree. "If there's an Uber outside, waiting for you, I'll come and get you from the party this evening." I leant forward until my lips were near her ear. She still hadn't turned. "And if there isn't," I hissed, "I'm going to punish you for lying and trying to steal my car."
"Borrow your car!" she said, as if in reflex. Woops, busted. She realized it the same moment I did.
"Do we need to check if there's an Uber waiting, or do you want to admit there isn't?"
She seemed to slump as she closed the door that she'd only just opened. "Okay, fine. I haven't ordered it yet. So what?"
"Nice try, Em, but we both know you're lying." I pulled her back into the living room and let go of her arm. Then I reached over and slid the chain onto the latch.
"What the fuck?"
"Punishment, Em. For lying to me, and for intending to take my car without permission, you're not going tonight."
"You can't do that!"
I shrugged. "A bet's a bet, Em." I leant nonchalantly against the door, watching her. She was dressed in a short skirt again, this one at least down to mid-thigh, and a white blouse tied around her midriff. I supposed it was suitable wear for a Summer evening party. At least she had a bra on this time. Not quite the slutty look. In fact, it was quite chic. Surprisingly sophisticated for my little sis.
"I never agreed!"
I shrugged. "You never said no. That's the deal." And it was, too; that was how we used to play.
She took a step toward me. "Get out of the way, Alex. I'm ordering an Uber, and I'm going out."
I didn't move. "I told you, you're not going."
"Since when do you get to decide where I can and can't go, asshole?"
My jaw clenched at her tone. "First, since you lost the bet. Second, since Dad isn't here, I'm the man of the house, and I've said no. And third, because you were going to take my car."
She scoffed. "The 'man of the house'? Can you hear yourself?"
Well, okay. It was a bit 1950s. But Mom had said it to me, and I guess it had got stuck in my thoughts. It had just slipped out. I shrugged again to cover my consternation. "Doesn't matter. You tried to steal my car, and now you're staying here."
"Borrow," she said, sullenly.
"You know that's an admittance, don't you?"
"Yeah, whatever. But I wasn't stealing it, okay?"
I shook my head. "Enjoy a night in your room, Em."
"Fuck you, Alex!" she spat at me. "Why are you being such an asshole!" She stepped into me and, to my surprise, lifted her hand and hammered her fist into my chest. It didn't hurt that much; it was more a petulant show of frustration than a real attempt to hit me. "You're so fucking pathetic!" she said. "God, I wish Dad was here instead of you."
"Don't push me, Em," I warned her. There was only so much I was prepared to take, and being repeatedly sworn at, her intending to take my car, and then, to top it all off, calling me pathetic? I could feel my temper rising. Oh, and trying to hit me too, for that matter -- though that was just an excuse, it had hardly made any difference. Still, Mom was right. She was totally disrespectful.
She raised her hand, and I caught her wrist. "Get off me you fucking asshole!" she cried at me. For some reason, I didn't let go. I figured she'd just try and hit me again, and I didn't want that. "Get the fuck off me right now, or I'm going to call Mom!"
"I'm already here," came Mom's voice from the doorway. I hadn't heard her approach, and it was even darker in the room. Mom fixed that by flicking the light switch. "What is going on?"
"Alex won't let go of me!" Emma cried, so I did. She'd been pulling and was caught by surprise at the abrupt loss of resistance. She fell back a pace, almost falling before she caught herself in her heels.
"I caught her intending to take my car, without permission," I said. "She lied about having ordered an Uber, and I said that as a punishment, she couldn't go out tonight. Then she hit me."
Mom raised an eyebrow, looking at Emma rather than me. "Seems like you got what you deserved, then."
"He's fucking pathetic!" she said for the second time, and the derision in her tone was just too much.
Mom looked at me. "Are you going to accept that?"
Her earlier words came to me unbidden. "That girl needs a good spanking," she'd said. I heard the echo of Emma calling me 'asshole', and 'pathetic'. Hitting me, after I'd told her fairly what her punishment was. And she'd tried to take my car.
"You know what? No. No, I'm not," I said.
I stepped forward and grasped my sister's wrist again, and she hadn't been expecting it. She wasn't quick enough to dodge. I pulled her forward to the couch and pushed her over the arm of it, her skirt riding up to frame the curve of her ass and show the backs of her thighs.
"You don't get to talk to me like that, Sis," I said, and I held her down with one hand in the small of her back. The other I raised, then brought down sharply on her ass with a slap.
"It's about time you treated me with some respect," I added, and landed another sharp blow.
"Ow, you asshole! Fucking get off me!" she cried, wrestling, but bent over the arm of the couch she didn't have the leverage to struggle. It was a simple matter to hold her with one hand; she was so much weaker than I was.
Mom, interestingly, hadn't moved or said anything. She was just watching. Her silence seemed to give me the authority to continue.
"You won't call me names again." Smack. "You definitely won't try to take my car without permission." Smack. "You won't try to hit me." Smack. Okay, that one had a slight hypocritical irony to it, but what the hell, she deserved it. "You won't lie to me, or to Mom." Smack. I had no reason to think she had lied to Mom but bringing her name into it seemed to bring her acceptance, too. "You'll accept your punishment," smack, "and you'll sort your attitude out, too." Smack. Smack. Smack.
I was breathing hard, my hard sore from the dozen-or-so blows. Her skirt was cotton; it wouldn't have given her much protection, and I hadn't held back, either. I hoped it had hurt. Mom was right. Emma had needed this.
Em hadn't said anything past her initial objections. She'd just lain there as I'd spanked her, probably too embarrassed that Mom was watching her get punished by her brother.
For a long moment no one said anything. I took another deep breath, looking at my sister, bent over the couch from where I'd just whaled on her ass, and felt a sudden twinge of conscience. Fuck, I'd just spanked my sister. What had I been thinking?
I didn't know what to say. I should say something -- apologize perhaps -- but the words wouldn't come. I just stood there, watching her, conscious of Mom behind me, her judgmental eyes boring into my back. Fuck, what would Dad say when they told him? This was bad. This was really bad.
Emma slowly pushed herself up, standing on shaky legs. Her legs were trembling I'd hit her so hard. I swallowed, preparing to apologize.
She beat me to it.
"I'm very sorry, Alex," she said quietly.
I froze in shock, my own apology dying on my lips. That was the last thing I'd expected her to say.
"You are absolutely right, and I deserved that," she added, her voice soft. "I'm going to go to my room, if that's okay."
She'd kept her eyes lowered the whole time. She hadn't even looked at me.
I nodded. "Yes. You do that." I said, trying to keep the surprise and uncertainty out of my voice, channeling instead the strict authority I'd heard Dad occasionally use.
She walked past me as I stepped back, watching her. She walked past Mom, who watched her too, and we both looked on in silence as Emma headed for the stairs, walked up them slowly, and turned right at the top to go to her room.
chuckled softly and turned to me. "That was kind of hot."
I blinked at her. "Hot?"
"Mmm hmm," she said, smiling a smile I'd never seen her smile before. It was almost a smirk. "For a moment there, you had your father's authority, and it was hot."
She turned and headed for the stairs too, and I just stared after her, my mouth open in surprise.
I'd spanked my sister and she'd gone to her room. Mom had called it 'hot'. Hell, none of it would've happened if Mom hadn't suggested it earlier. Had she suggested it? Or had this been all my idea?
I really wasn't sure. The only thing I was sure of was that it had been a weird day.
I slumped back on the sofa and picked up my phone again, flicking open my Kindle.
Several pages went past before I realized I hadn't taken in a word. Instead, I'd been thinking only of my sister's small, tight ass, bent over the sofa, as my hand had spanked her again and again.
Fuck. I was never going to hear the end of this.
So I'd gone too far. I could see that. Still...
I thought of the feel of her ass beneath my hand. The demure way she'd said apologized to me. The way she'd said my name afterwards.
...It had been worth it.
*
I woke up the next day feeling guilty, and it took me a moment to remember why.
Oh yeah. That was why.
There were breakfast smells wafting up the stairs, and that seemed too good a motivation not to get up. Mom made the best pancakes. Besides, best to face the music, get it over with.
I sighed and got out of bed, pulling on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.
When I walked into the kitchen Mom was sitting at the table, drinking a coffee. It was Emma cooking, and she was doing it while wearing a cute little silk kimono thing I hadn't even known she owned.
"Good morning, Big Bro!" she said brightly, when she saw me. "Pancakes?"
"Er, sure," I said, taking a seat. Mom smiled at me briefly then returned to her magazine.
Okay, weird. Emma never cooked breakfast, and everyone was acting like last night had never happened. She only called me 'Big Bro' when she was really happy with me, too.
"Bacon and maple syrup, or bananas and blueberries?"
"Bacon and maple syrup, please," I said, wondering if she'd secretly be adding in some arsenic.
"They'll just be a couple of minutes," she said happily, then picked up the coffee pot and brought it over to me.
Up to that point she'd had her back to me, and I hadn't really caught the full effect of the kimono. I'd seen it had been short and silky, only a little past her ass at the back, a cream and peach number that I was sure I'd have remembered if I'd seen it before. But then, it wasn't the sort of thing I'd expect her to wear around her brother. Hell, it wasn't the sort of thing I expected her to own.
As she turned toward me, coffee pot in one hand, I saw the front was two overlapping sides, tied with a sash around her waist, and her pert breasts pushed against the thin material, her nipples making little peaks in the silk. It was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra -- but then, I supposed, it was early in the morning. Too early for seeing my sister dressed like that -- especially after I'd been spanking that ass the night before.
She stood next to me, one hand resting casually on my shoulder. "Coffee, Big Brother?" she asked, with a smile. A really genuine, happy smile.
Not what I'd expected at all.
"Yes, please," I said, my voice slightly croaky. I cleared my throat.
She poured me a cup and then bent down and kissed my cheek, "I'll get you some sugar and cream," she murmured, before she straightened. That tone of voice she'd used... it was almost a purr. Was she trying to tease me?
I cleared my throat again and shifted in my chair. The kimono had gaped as she'd bent; not open enough to see all the way down, but more than enough to catch the top of her naked breasts as they pushed against the material. Much more and there'd have been a flash of nipple.
Mom was looking at me, a wry expression on her face. I glanced down into my coffee cup, hiding the blush that was rising. It wasn't the only thing rising either, and I pulled my chair more firmly under the table. Should've put some boxers on under these shorts.
Emma was back a moment later with sugar and cream, then again a few minutes after with my pancakes. She sat beside me at the table with a cup of coffee, an expectant look on her face.
I took a mouthful. "Very nice," I said. She had cooked them really well. She beamed her delight back at me, like a happy puppy that had just had its ears rubbed.
As I slowly ate my breakfast, I wondered what had come over Emma this morning. This was a complete one-eighty on her attitude from the last couple of days. I couldn't remember the last time she'd made me breakfast. I could only assume she wanted me to drive her somewhere and -- assuming it wasn't across multiple states -- after the breakfast she'd served I'd probably agree. It didn't hurt to be nice, right?
She jumped up and collected my plate the moment I'd finished, and that little kimono jumped with her, offering a swift and tantalizing glimpse of skin.
"That's a really nice robe," I said.
"Oh, do you like it?" she asked, twirling slightly. The hem splayed out, almost threatening to reveal the bottom curve of her ass. "Daddy bought it for me last week."
I raised an eyebrow and glanced at Mom, who met my inquiring gaze impassively. What was Dad doing buying something like that for Emma? I didn't think it was the sort of thing Dad would have approved of her wearing, let alone bought for her.
"Interesting choice," I said, noncommittally. Mom's lips twitched, perhaps in amusement. Did that mean she didn't approve either, or was I just missing something here?
"Any plans for today, Big Bro?" Emma asked me.
"Not really." I hadn't thought about it. "You?"
"Gonna lay out by the pool, work on my tan for a bit. Want to join me?"
I glanced at her in surprise. That wasn't like Emma either -- oh, the sunbathing certainly was, but actively encouraging my presence? "Er..." This was probably just an excuse to have me on hand to fetch drinks for her all day. "I'll have a think about it. Going to finish my coffee first."
She smiled at me brightly as though I'd just agreed to anything she could possibly want, and walked out the door in the direction of the stairs.
"She seems in a good mood this morning," I commented lightly.
"Yes," Mom agreed, without looking up from her magazine. "I wonder why that is."
She'd used the kind of tone that suggested she knew exactly why that was, it was obvious, and I should know too. I didn't. I frowned. The distinct feeling that I was missing something was growing stronger.
We were both still sitting at the table a few minutes later when Emma reappeared, wearing a yellow bikini. Barely. I was glad I hadn't still been drinking my coffee; I'd have likely sprayed it across the table in surprise.
"Where the hell did you get that?" I asked in surprise. It was three small triangles, held with thin pieces of string. The two at the top did little more than cover her breasts, and even that was a generous assessment. The one at the bottom I could hardly look at, but it left the casual viewer in no doubt that Emma had had a bikini wax. If she told me Dad had bought her that I'd know she was lying.
"I bought it a few weeks back, why? Don't you like it?"
I glanced at Mom in surprise, but as usual there was no reaction. Mom's poker face was legendary.
"You're not seriously going to wear that out of the house, are you?"
What she wore inside was one thing, but going into the backyard like that? Our neighbor's windows overlooked our garden, and I could well imagine Mr. Rogers leching over my sister. Yeah, not happening on my watch.
"What's wrong with it?" she said, looking down at herself.
I fought the urge to face-palm. I mean, my sister was hot. She was fucking, smoking hot, and although I shouldn't think of her in that way, I wasn't blind. She had a body to die for, and that bikini pretty much showed the whole thing.
I turned to Mom in supplication. "Seriously, are you happy with her wearing that out of the house?"
Mom didn't even look up. "I've already told her she can't."
"Well then," I said, turning back to Emma.
She glared at me. "The back yard is still the house, Alex."
No more 'Big Brother', I noticed. That good mood hadn't lasted all too long. "It's still a no."
"Who died and put you in charge?"
I clenched my jaw. "While Dad isn't here, I'm --"
"--Yeah, I know," she rolled her eyes. "The 'man of the house', whatever the fuck that means. Don't remind me."
I leant back in my chair. "You're not going outside wearing that, and that's final."
She stared at me for a long moment. "Fine. I didn't want tan lines anyway."
She reached behind herself to the thin string straps that held her bikini top in place, and as I watched, still bemused by what she'd just said, she pulled the bow undone. Immediately, the two triangles that served as cups slipped loose across her bare breasts, but a moment later she'd pulled them off, dropping the top half of her bikini on the table. I blinked in surprise as she bared her breasts before me. Fuck, but she had amazing breasts. Pert and firm and beautifully shaped, just the right size with dusky pink nipples that were already hard and pointing ever so slightly upwards.
I might've said something if I hadn't been staring, but she wasn't done, and before I had a chance her hands dropped to the bow at her hips. Now even if I'd wanted to say something I wouldn't have; I wanted to see how far she was going to take this game. Surely not all the way? Surely, she was bluffing.
She wasn't bluffing. She pulled the bows on both sides of her hips, and the garment just fell away, one little triangle dangling on some strings held in her hand, before she dropped it on top of the bikini top on the table. I'd been right: Emma had recently had a bikini wax. She was completely bare.
My sister was standing naked before me, making no attempt to hide her breasts or her perfectly waxed vulva.
I could only stare in surprise.
"Happy, now?" she asked into my stunned silence, then took the few steps to the door to the deck.
"Oh no you don't," I said, finding my voice at last. Also, fuck, that ass. She had the hottest body I had ever seen in real life. Why did the hottest girls always have such bitchy self-entitled attitudes?
"'Oh no I don't' what?" she asked, turning to face me. She rested one hand on her cocked hip, her usual provocative and insolent way of standing when she was trying to get a rise out of me. But doing it completely naked was a whole different kind of provocative -- and a whole different rise, for that matter.
"Are you fucking kidding me? You're not going out there naked."
She glared at me. "You said I couldn't go out wearing the bikini. You didn't say I couldn't go out au naturel. It's my backyard too, you know. It's my holiday too! Don't be such an uptight asshole."
She turned back to the door and had it half open before I was up from my chair. I closed the gap quickly, putting my hand on the glass and holding the door closed. She was right before me, almost in the circle of my arms, completely nude. My groin was almost pushing up against her ass. Fuck, it had been a weird couple of days.
"You are not going out there naked," I said through gritted teeth.
"Now you want me to wear my bikini? Make your fucking mind up." She turned to face me and I had to step back, otherwise she'd be practically pressing her bare breasts into my chest. "You just wanted me to strip naked for you, didn't you?"
I gaped at her. "What?"
She placed her hands on her hips and smirked at me. "Like what you see, Big Brother? Is this why you wanted me to take my bikini off?"
"You're fucking insane," I spat at her. She was really riling me up, and not least because hell yes I wanted to see her naked. Who wouldn't? Even Mom had been looking. "Get upstairs and put some clothes on, Emma."
"Or what? You're going to spank me again?"
"Upstairs, now," I said through gritted teeth.
"That's what I thought," she said, her tone as insolent as she could make it. "I knew you wouldn't dare spank me again."
I saw red. I stepped forward and grabbed her by her upper arm, pulling her to the table and pushing her down across it. I held her with one hand on the back of her neck, conscious of her ass raised as I bent her over. Mom had leant back in her chair and, for the moment, put down her magazine. It seemed even she wanted to watch.
"You will not speak to me like that," I said, and as I held her with one hand the other came down on her ass with a satisfying crack that reverberated around the kitchen. I heard her gasp with the impact. "You will speak to me with respect," my hand came down on her ass again, and this time I was conscious of her bare skin beneath my palm. Again she gasped.
"I'm sorry, Alex," she cried, but it was far too late for that. I clenched my jaw as I proceeded to spank her hard, keeping her pinned as I struck her raised bottom again and again, feeling the warmth in my palm growing rapidly with each blow.
I was lost in the feel of her bare ass beneath my hand. The view of her naked back, slender and smooth, stretched out across the kitchen table. Her long hair draped loosely over my hand where I held her, pinned, with my grip on her neck. She was helpless, naked, and I felt a sudden rush of power. Mom still hadn't said anything, just as she hadn't last time, and as before her silence seemed to encourage me.
"You will obey me," I told Emma as again my hand slapped hard against the firmness of her round bottom.
"Yes, Alex, I'm sorry, I'll obey you!" she cried, her hips twitching beneath my hand.
"You will stop provoking me," I said, as again my hand landed on her ass with my full strength. I knew that one had hurt -- I'd intended it to.
"Yes, Alex," she gasped through the sting of the impact.
"Apologise to me," smack, "and apologise to Mom, too," smack.
"Yes, Alex, I'm sorry," she whimpered. "And I'm sorry, Mommy." Her face was still pressed into the table, but I could hear the sincerity in her voice.
"That's quite alright, sweetie," Mom said, her tone even. I was surprised she'd called her 'sweetie', though -- it wasn't a word Mom often used.
I released my grip on Emma's neck. "Go to your room," I said, and my voice still sounded strict. At least, I hoped it did, because it sounded like I was sending a spoiled brat off for a time-out. But maybe that wasn't too far off. She might be my own sister, naked and freshly-spanked, but she'd sure acted like a spoiled brat.
"Yes, Alex," she said demurely, and I admit her tone surprised me. I'd half expected to get some snarkiness back, but maybe she didn't want to be spanked again.
She rose unsteadily and slowly walked to the door, her head down.
"Emma?" I said, as she reached the threshold.
"Yes, Alex?"
"That's twice. There better not be a third time."
She lowered her eyes, "Yes, Alex."
I sat back down in my chair. I could see the stairs from that position, and had a clear view of my sister climbing up them, step by step, her ass bright red with my handprints.
I was suddenly aware that Mom was watching me and I averted my gaze, my eyes instead coming to rest on the tiny yellow bikini that lay on the coffee table that had been the catalyst for all of this. I shook my head in confusion. I'd just spanked my naked sister, while Mom had watched. Spanked her for the second time in as many days. Had I needed to do that? Was this somehow my fault?
Mom had told me in no uncertain terms that I was in charge with Dad gone. She'd told me that Emma had deserved a spanking. And she'd never objected, at any point. She'd even called it 'hot' -- and that was while Emma had still been clothed.
And I couldn't deny it had been hot. Fucking hot. I knew how hard I was, and how clearly that would've shown in the thin shorts I was wearing. I wondered if Emma had noticed. I wondered if Mom had. At least the table covered me now.
"Would you like another coffee, sweetie?" Mom asked.
I blinked. Mom never got me coffee, it was always the other way around. And now she was calling me sweetie. "Er... yes, please."
She smiled and got up, fetching the coffee pot from the hot plate, and refilled my cup. I added cream and sugar while she returned the pot, taking her seat again, and I noticed she hadn't bothered to fill her own. Just mine then.
"How did that feel, Alex?" she asked, as I took a sip.
I choked on the coffee, putting the cup down quickly before I spilled it all over my shorts.
How did it feel? How the fuck do you think it felt? It felt... fuck, it felt good. Hot. Satisfying. I thought back to the curve of my sister's bare ass beneath my hand.
"Just doing what I thought she needed," I muttered.
Mom smiled. "Yes, she did need that."
"Perhaps now there'll be less attitude."
Mom's smile turned into a smirk. "Yes, perhaps that too."
I frowned. What did she mean by those comments? I still had that sense, in the back of my mind, that I was missing something. But it had been a strange morning. Hell, a strange couple of days. My family was a lot more fucked up than I thought it was... and perhaps I was too. I couldn't deny I'd been lusting after my baby sister. But then, she had been naked. Very fucking naked. I shivered at the thought.
Mom was still watching me.
I hid my embarrassment with another sip of coffee.
"You should probably go and talk to her," Mom suggested. But it wasn't really a suggestion.
I didn't really want to stand up right now. I would've preferred a few more minutes to calm down. "I'll give her a few minutes to reflect," I said.
"I think you should go now," Mom said.
Crap. "Er... okay."
I stood up self-consciously, and Mom's eyes immediately dropped to my shorts. Well, that was embarrassing. Her smirk was back, too.
I headed for the stairs, keen to be able to turn away from her, to hide the obvious bulge I was sporting. But as I began to climb, I gave some thought to what I was about to do. What should I say to Emma, after seeing her naked? After watching her strip before me? After spanking her naked ass?
Why had she stripped? I hadn't made her do that. She'd goaded me into spanking her, too. After I'd warned her against it.
Our relationship had crossed a line, and there was no coming back from that. Was that my fault, or hers? Both, probably. It wasn't really about 'fault', I supposed -- what was done was done. Still, that didn't help me decide what to do now.
Wing it, I guess.
My steps slowed as I reached the top of the stairs.
At least, with all the consternation I was feeling, my body had calmed a bit. It wouldn't do to be walking into her room with a full-on erection, after all. No, that wouldn't do at all.
Taking a deep breath, I knocked on her door.
No answer.
"Em?" I tapped again, lightly.
"What?" Her voice was muffled through the door.
"Can I come in?"
"No."
Well, that was fair. But not quite the "I'll obey!" she gave me just a few minutes earlier. Still, I supposed I'd asked, not demanded. Perhaps I should've demanded.
"Are you okay?" I tried again. Silence. "Em?"
"What?"
I sighed. She wasn't making this easy. "Can we talk?"
"We are talking," she said, her voice muffled.
I sighed again. "Can I come in?"
"Fine."
I pushed open the door, stepping into her room. It was gloomy inside, the curtains drawn, no lights on, but with the bright daylight peeking around the curtains there was still more than enough light to see her. She was lying on her bed, facing away, and she was still naked. I hadn't expected her to still be naked. Her ass was darker where I'd spanked her, and I could see it clearly enough, even in the shadows. It looked a lot worse now. I swallowed nervously, seeing her naked, feeling guilty about what I'd done.
"I'm sorry I spanked you," I said.
"S'okay." Still muffled. Her face was buried in the pillow.
I took a seat on her computer chair, looking anywhere but at her. It was difficult; her nakedness kept drawing my eye.
"Does it still hurt?" Okay, that was probably a dumb question.
"Why? Did you come to rub some lotion on it?"
"What? No!" I hesitated. Did she want me to? "Do you want me to?"
"No." Muffled so much I could hardly hear it, yet was that a tone of regret? Did she want me to? Surely, she could reach herself if she thought that would help.
Then she sobbed, once, her whole body jerking with the force of it, and suddenly I realised she was crying. Shit. It drew my eye to her, even though I'd been trying to look elsewhere. She was really very naked.
"Emma?" I asked, tentatively. I wondered if I should leave. I wondered if I should get her some lotion. Had I spanked her that hard? Maybe I had.
I got up from the chair and crossed the small gap to her bed, sitting beside her. I half expected her to tell me to get out, but she didn't. I laid my hand gently on her back, then stroked her hair. "I'm really sorry," I said, softly.
She turned at my touch, rolling over, a brief flash of her naked breasts before she sat up and clutched me in a hug, pushing herself to me as she sobbed again. My arms came around her tentatively; this was the last thing I'd expected.
"I... I... just wanted to... to... make you happy," she said, between sobs.
I held her to me lightly, my confusion growing with each passing second. How had she wanted to make me happy? She'd turned up in a bikini, got angry when I said she couldn't wear it, then all-but challenged me to spank her. How was that supposed to make me happy?
"I thought you'd like the stupid bikini!" she cried, clutching me, and her tears ran down the side of my neck.
Oh. "You wore it for me?" I asked, trying to understand.
"Yes! No! I just... I just..." she trailed off, sobbing still, and that answer hadn't helped clarify a damn thing.
"What did you want?" I asked, gently.
"I wanted you to want to come and sit outside with me," she said, her voice small and muffled against the side of my neck. "I thought... I thought the bikini might help."
Oh. And yet that still made no sense. We hadn't been out sunbathing together all summer -- and I was having a difficult time remembering if we had the year before, either. My silence had been too long, for her next comment was the one girls used when they played their trump card.
"You don't think I'm attractive!"
"Sure I do," I said in reflex, for it was true. Attractive? Hell, my sister was smoking hot. But she was still my sister. Was I supposed to say things like that?
"You do?" she asked, timidly.
She pulled back from the hug and looked up at me, and she was sitting beside me on the bed, facing me. I could see her breasts in the murky shadows of the room, and what little light there was reflected from the tears in her eyes. She'd never looked more beautiful.
"You've never looked more beautiful," I said, truthfully.
"Oh, Alex!" she sighed, and then she was in my arms again, but this time her face wasn't tucked in against my collarbone. Instead, I felt her lips brush against mine. Her breasts pushed against my t-shirt, and one hand slid into my hair. "Thank you," she breathed, and then she was kissing me. Her lips were on mine, and I felt them part invitingly. It seemed natural to kiss her back, for our tongues to lick tentatively at each other, for her mouth to open more. She moaned softly, pressing herself to me again, and for a fleeting moment I lost myself in her embrace.
My sister's embrace.
I pushed her back, breaking the kiss. "I'm sorry," I said, "I shouldn't have done that."
"Alex?" she asked, surprised that I'd pulled away.
Fuck, what was I doing? I stood up from the bed, turning toward the door. "I'm sorry, Em," I muttered, and pulled it open. Light rushed in, driving away the shadows. I didn't turn, didn't look behind me. I knew how naked she was, how exposed she would be in the full light of day. I stepped through, blinking in the sudden brightness, and closed the door gently behind me.
*
It was barely an hour later, and I was sitting on my bed, trying to read my Kindle. My thoughts kept drifting back to the kiss we'd had, her nakedness in my arms.
So many lines that never should have been crossed.
She'd been vulnerable, and I'd taken advantage. All she'd wanted was some reassurance after I'd spanked her, and I'd let things go way too far. I didn't know what the fuck was going on in her head, but I did know that this had to stop, whatever 'it' was. She was my sister.
Mom was partly to blame here. She'd all-but encouraged me to spank her. She'd put the idea in my head, then prodded me into doing it. It started with that first time, in the living room.
"He's fucking pathetic!" Emma had said.
Mom had looked at me. "Are you going to accept that?"
I'd never had done anything if Mom hadn't encouraged it. I didn't get what Mom was trying to achieve here. Maybe she felt that Emma really needed... what? A firm hand? I still felt like I was missing something, and I wished I knew what was going on.
Yet my thoughts kept going back to her naked ass, the clear view I'd had of it in the murky shadows of her room, overlaid with the feeling of it beneath my hand as I'd spanked her, over and over, pinned down across the kitchen table. So smooth, so tight, so eminently spankable. Fuck, but I needed a cold shower.
A light tap came on the door to my room.
"Alex? You in there?"
Fuck. I really didn't want to have to deal with her right now. "Kinda busy, Em." Busy avoiding you.
"Just a few minutes? Please?"
I could already tell she wasn't going to let this go. I sighed. I was still dressed in just my thin shorts and t-shirt, and that wasn't ideal either. I sat up against the headboard of my bed and pulled the duvet across my lap.
"Alright."
The door opened slowly, and she stepped in. At least she wasn't naked, but the t-shirt she was wearing suggested she might well be underneath. Definitely no bra; I could see the shape of her breasts clearly through it. It was long enough though, down to mid-thigh. Then I recognised it: it was one of mine, that I'd given to her a few months back. She was naked, save for my t-shirt. Damn, that was awkward.
She smiled at me, and I had to hand it to her, she really was cute when she wanted to be. It was an endearingly demure smile, all gentle and slight, yet playful. Or maybe that was my own fucked up interpretation of it. I didn't know where my head was at.
"What is it, Em?" and if my tone came across as curt or exasperated, that was probably no bad thing.
She chewed her lip for a moment, closing the door behind her and taking a couple of steps into my room before she answered. "Just wondered if we could, maybe, talk?"
I hid a sigh. I really didn't want her in here right now, but I couldn't deny we needed to talk. But just to talk. I should probably make that clear from the outset. "Just to talk," I said firmly, making it clear from the outset.
Her smile jumped up to its full wattage and she bounced on to the bed, kneeling beside my legs and looking like I'd just given her the best Christmas present. The t-shirt slipped further up, showing more smooth, bare skin at the top of her thighs. All she'd have to do is spread her knees, and I'd be able to see everything. Fuck, I needed to stop thinking thoughts like that.
"So, you really think I'm beautiful?" she said.
Oh, fuck no, we weren't starting there.
"Em!" I said, pulling the duvet more tightly across my lap. It had pulled slightly away when she climbed on to the bed, and I really felt I needed its protection.
"Just kidding, just kidding," she said, giggling slightly, but there was a shadow in her eyes. I wasn't sure she'd been kidding at all.
I didn't hide my sigh this time. I didn't want her to be sad with me again, and what harm did it cause to admit I found her beautiful? She was beautiful -- objectively, you'd have to be blind to think otherwise. "Yes, Sis, I think you're beautiful."
She bounced on the bed with pleasure, her smile widening and her breasts jiggling alluringly beneath my old thin t-shirt. The hem moved with her body too, so fleetingly close to showing what lay beneath. Fuck, I didn't have the emotional capacity for this right now. I needed some space, and a cold shower.
"Was that all you wanted?" I asked, hopefully.
"Are you trying to get rid of me so soon?" she asked, pouting.
"No, but... like I said, I'm a bit busy right now."
She raised an eyebrow. "You don't look busy. You look like you were just reading your Kindle." She gave a mock-gasp and her hand covered her mouth. "Unless you were doing something else before I came in, and now you want me to leave so you can continue?"
"What?" I said, my shock at her implication not helped by where my head was already at. "No I wasn't!"
She giggled, "The man doth protest too much." She reached out one hand, tugging playfully at the duvet without really drawing it away too much. She could, though, and I grabbed at it in reflex. "Are you naked under there, Big Bro?" she asked. "Were you..." another exaggerated gasp, "were you in here thinking about me?"
"No! Well, yes, I was thinking about you, as it happens, but not in that way!"
The pout came back. "Aww." Her hand let go of the duvet and slipped back into her lap, and now she looked like a kicked puppy. I mean, what the fuck? Did she want me to be thinking of her like that? Masturbating to thoughts of her? Thoughts of my own sister? Yet I couldn't deny the image of her bare ass that came quickly to mind, the feel of her naked breasts pushed into my chest. Fuck, I really needed a cold shower.
"So what were you thinking about then?"
"I was thinking I shouldn't have spanked you." That was true enough.
She cocked her head on one side, regarding me. "Why? Didn't you like it?"
So not the question I'd been expecting. I gaped at her in surprise. "No of course I didn't like it!" Liar. "It was a punishment that you deserved."
"Oh," she said, quietly, looking down. Then she glanced up at me, "You sure you didn't like it?"
"Why? Did you?" I shot back at her. Heh, two could play that game.
She chewed her lip, looking down again. Hardly the emphatic denial I'd expected. What the fuck? Had she actually liked it when I spanked her?
"You did, didn't you?" I accused her.
"No..." she said, unconvincingly.
"You did!" I said, now somehow certain I was right. Wow, that changed... everything.
"I didn't!" she said, but I was sure it was a lie. Her denial was more plaintive than forceful, more wishful than resounding.
"What kind of fucked-up person likes getting spanked?" I asked, incredulous.
She stared at me for a moment, her eyes wide, then she burst into tears.
Fuck. I hadn't meant to make her do that.
"Em, I..."
But she was already pushing herself off the bed, the t-shirt briefly opening and giving me a flash almost all the way up her inner thigh. She turned to the door, sobbing again, pulled it open and was gone.
It slammed shut behind her, and I was left staring after her, wondering what the fuck had just happened.
My sister liked it when I spanked her.
Could my life possibly get any weirder?
*
For the rest of the day we managed to avoid each other, as if by mutual agreement. This wasn't difficult; I spent much of my time in my room, and on the rare occasions I ventured out it was only to discover she was in hers too. The boredom of my own privacy seemed infinitely preferable to having to face my sister after the revelation of that morning, but there was only so long I could hide away from the world -- or only so long before I got hungry, more to the point. I was in the kitchen making a sandwich when Emma came in.
She'd changed out of her (my) t-shirt and into some baggy sweats, as if to go from one end of sexy to the other. It was working though, and it made her easy to ignore as I finished fixing myself a chicken salad baguette.
Emma ignored me, too, making a bee-line to Mom, who was sitting at the kitchen table working on her laptop.
"Mom?"
"Mmm?"
"I'm going to go to Boston for the next three days."
That was unexpected enough to pique my interest.
Mom seemed to think so too, as she looked up at Em in surprise. "Why on Earth would you want to go to Boston?"
"Um... Popcult Anime Con is on," Emma said, and I got the distinct impression she was trying really hard not to look at me.
So yes, Emma had indulged more than a passing interest in Popcult Anime when she was growing up. But I'd seriously thought it was a phase that was all behind her. Did she really want to travel what was probably seven or eight hours by Greyhound from where we were near Philadelphia all the way up the East Coast to Boston just to go to some convention? I didn't buy it. I was pretty sure she had another reason, and something told me it was something to do with me. In fact, I was pretty sure I was the reason.
She wanted away from me for a few days.
Well, while that did kinda hurt at some level, I could also see the merit of it. Maybe it would be good for both of us to have some time apart.
Mom was less convinced, looking at the information Emma was showing her on her phone.
"That says one day, not three."
"Yes, well, I was counting three with travel."
"You're not spending two days on a Greyhound bus by yourself. It's not safe."
"Oh come on, Mom! People my age travel it all the time by themselves."
"Yes, and get harassed all the time. You're not going, and that's final."
"But I've booked my tickets and hotel room!"
"Well, that was dumb to not do so before asking, and you'll just have to un-book them."
"There's no refunds, Mom!"
"Well, you'll just have to find some other way of getting there."
About this time, I got one of those premonitions you just did not argue with, and swiftly collected up my almost-made sandwich onto its plate and started toward the door. I still wasn't quick enough.
"What other way is there?" Emma sulked.
"Get your brother to drive you," Mom said.
Well, fuck. I hadn't made it out of the kitchen.
"Hell, no," I said, and in Em's defense she said pretty much the same at the same time.
"Looks like you've got some persuading to do, Emma," Mom said, looking back down at her laptop. "And if you don't want your money wasted, seems to me you're going to have to be convincing."
I walked out of the kitchen shaking my head, ignoring the look Emma directed my way. What might've been eight hours by bus was probably only five or six by car, but that was still two days chauffeuring my sister, plus a third day sitting around bored while she did her convention thing. Shoot me now instead. There was no way I was agreeing to that.
At least she waited before I'd finished my sandwich before knocking on my door.
"Come in, Em," I said, with resignation.
She pushed open the door and stepped in. She was still wearing her sweatpants but had taken off her sweatshirt, and was wearing just a sports bra beneath. It pulled tight across her breasts, but it was hardly as revealing as her bikini. I'd seen way more of my sister over the past twenty-four hours than I ever had before, and it had made me more aware than ever of her body. I'd also seen her naked, and that hadn't helped. Neither had spanking her, but that, I supposed, was my fault. Or Mom's; I hadn't quite figured out which.
"Hey, Big Bro," she said, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it.
"You know the answer is no, don't you?" I said, not looking up from where I sat on my bed, reading my Kindle. I wasn't really reading it, just pretending I was, but I figured the message was clear. Not interested. Not in the least bit interested. Three-day road trip with my sis? Hard pass.
"But, I really, really, want to go to," she pleaded.
And this was the thing. I wasn't even sure that was true. I mean, come on, PopCult Anime Con? Seriously?
"I know you gave that stuff up ages ago," I said, looking up. "What's your game, Em?"
"I don't know what you mean. I've always loved PopCult Anime!"
She was convincing, I had to give her that. The enthusiasm seemed real, but I still couldn't figure her out. I shook my head. "There is nothing you could do to persuade me to drive you to Boston and back again, let alone hang around there while you do girly pop anime stuff."
"Oh come on, you'd enjoy it! And it would be a road trip, just you and me!"
"Pass, thanks."
"Look, I'd give you all the coach money, which would more than pay for the gas."
"Wow, so I make, like, twenty bucks profit! Still pass, thanks."
She sighed in exasperation. "Well, what would make you change your mind?"
"Nothing. I'm good, thanks, and I'm staying her."
She pushed off the wall and took a step closer, a playful smile on her lips. "How about I show you my breasts," she said, slowly running her hands up her hips. I glanced at her in surprise, in time to see her grasp the bottom of her sports bra and swiftly pull it up. Her breasts fell free; naked, firm mounds of jiggling flesh with tight little nipples atop.
"Emma!" I said, shocked. What had gotten into her recently? I mean, I couldn't help admit a bit of curiosity in wanting to see her bare breasts again, but that so wasn't going to be enough to convince me. "Never going to be enough to convince me," I said, before I'd even thought about it.
Her smile seemed to take on a note of triumph. "Big Bro wants to see more?" she asked, her hands falling to the ties of her sweats. Her breasts were still exposed, the bra still scrunched up above them. "Will you take me if I show you my ass again?" She was pulling open the tie, loosening the band of her pants.
"I don't want to see your ass again," I lied. Ok, I really wanted to see her ass again, but this was my sister. It was wrong.
"Oh, you want to see my little cunny?" she asked in a playful voice, slowly beginning to push down the front of her pants. Her bare mons began to come into view, and it was suddenly obvious she was wearing nothing beneath.
"Stop, Emma, stop, for fuck's sake!" I said, in shock. Was she just teasing me, or was she actually prepared to show her body to me? What was with her and all the nudity of late? It didn't help that actually yes, I did want to see her naked. Sister or not, she was smoking, fucking hot -- what man wouldn't have wanted to see her naked? And she was here, in the flesh, in my room. Not some picture on a porn site.
"Oh, I see," she said, coming closer, her breasts still exposed. "You want to touch, not look. Liked your hand on my ass, did you? Want to feel my breasts, too?" She trailed her hands back up her body, cupping her breasts while I watched. "If you take me to the Anime Con, I'll let you squeeze them."
"Alright, alright!" I said, giving in. "I'll take you on the stupid fucking trip! Just... put your clothes on, goddammit!"
She gave me another of those devilish smiles and slowly wiggled her sports bra back into place, taking her sweet-ass time about it and doing it while I watched. Right there in front of me. Knowing I was watching. And damn me that I couldn't look away, either.
"Thank you, Big Bro," she said, turning with a saucy flip of her ass. The sweats were still untied and they'd slipped a little. The top of her ass was just peeking out, even showing a hint of a crack. "Yay, road trip!" she said, with genuine delight, pausing at my bedroom door. "Leave early tomorrow morning, okay?"
"Whatever," I said, weakly.
Fuck my sister. Seriously, she was so annoying.
*
She jumped in shotgun, frilly skirt bouncing and in her usual strappy top, carrying a bag stuffed full of groceries.
"I've got chips, nuts, chocolate bars, and more Mountain Dew than we could ever possibly need," she said gaily, and if I hadn't been in such a bad mood I might've appreciated the effort.
"Whatever," I said instead. "I get to choose the music."
"As you like, Big Bro!" She reached for her seat belt and clipped it in place. "This is gonna be fun!"
It wasn't. It really wasn't.
Mile after mile rolled by with the dull monotony of knowing there were still hours left to go on a journey I never wanted to do in the first place. Why the fuck was I here again?
It was lunch time before we cleared New York, putting us behind schedule (on top of everything else). We stopped to get a burrito at a restaurant close to the road. I was in a seriously foul mood by this point, and even Em had realised it.
"I'm sorry, okay?" she said, as we got back into the car. "I thought it would be fun."
"Whatever." It was about the only word I'd given her since we left.
She looked out of the window for a while, chewing her lip, then glanced across at me. "How about we play a game?"
I didn't want to play any fucking car games. I was also so mind-numbingly bored that the idea of playing a car game wasn't the worst idea I'd heard. She took my lack of immediate dissent as encouragement.
"Truth or Dare?" she suggested.
"I'm driving," I said. That pretty much eliminated all the possibilities for dares, unless she wanted to dare me to 'veer crazily into the next lane'.
"Truth or Truth, then," she said, bouncing slightly in her seat.
"Sounds lame."
"Only as lame as the questions, and they're only limited by imagination. So it's only as lame as your imagination. Do you have a lame imagination, Big Bro?"
"Fine," I sighed in resignation.
"Woot!" she cried, happily. "I'll start."
"Whatever."
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
"No. You?"
"...No."
I'd expected that to be a throw-away denial, a bit of a joke to show how little I cared about her stupid game, and her hesitation surprised me. It wasn't an instant 'no', as if there was more to the answer. I glanced across at her, seeing the seriousness on her face before I returned my eyes to the road.
"Have you ever had a girlfriend?" she asked.
"You know I have. Penny Dalglish, last year. Remember?"
"Oh yeah," she seemed glum to have wasted her question. Not sure why when we still had three hours to go.
"Why did you hesitate on the previous question?"
"What do you mean?"
"The girlfriend one. You said 'no', but with a hesitation. Explain the hesitation."
"I don't have a girlfriend," she said, sounding like she was trying to hide something.
I glanced across at her. "It's called 'Truth or Truth', Em, and that was dissembling."
"Oh, fine. I've been with a woman, okay? And I'm not telling you who, so don't ask."
I felt my eyebrows rise. "You've been with a woman?"
"Just told you I have, didn't I? My turn. Have you been with a woman?"
"Yes, thank you very much. I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're asking." And I wasn't, either. I'd been with two girls. Penny hadn't been my first. "Did you like it?"
"Yes, I liked it. How many girls have you been with?"
"Two. How many girls have you been with?"
"I told you already. I said I've been with a woman. So just one."
"How many guys have you been with?"
"Nuh uh. It's my turn," she said, shaking her head at me. "What positions did you do with them?"
I glanced across at her again at that question. "That's pretty personal."
"Yeah? Got something better to do? Or do you want to chicken out already?"
"What are the rules of this game anyway? What's the forfeit for not answering?"
She shrugged. "A dare when we get to the hotel?"
It seemed reasonable. "Alright. Missionary. So how many guys have you been with?"
"Wait up, I said 'positions', plural. What else?"
I squirmed awkwardly. "Just missionary, okay?" I didn't like this line of questioning. "Answer my question."
"Two guys." She cocked her head to one side and regarded me. "How many times have you had sex?"
Damn. I hoped she wouldn't ask that. "Twice. You?" The return was a gimme.
"Er..." she paused for a bit, as if counting. "Just intercourse? Or... like... you know..."
No, I didn't know. "I know what?"
"Oral."
Oh. "Oh. Er... yeah, that too." Why not.
"So... twelve times... with guys. Eight with a woman."
"Same woman, though, right?"
"Yeah. Same woman."
I glanced across at her in amazement. My sister had had way more sex than I had, despite being eighteen months younger. And with a woman, too -- I still couldn't quite believe that. She was bisexual.
"Was it Milly?" I didn't think it was Milly, she didn't strike me as that kinda girl. But then, until ten minutes previously, I didn't think my sister had slept with a woman either.
"I told you I'm not telling you that. Besides, it's my turn. Two different girls, two different times, missionary both times? Is that why you've only done missionary?" she asked, picking at a subject I really hoped she'd leave well alone.
I shrugged awkwardly. "Yeah, I suppose so."
"And you were so bad they didn't want you again?"
I glared at her. "You want me to turn this thing around and go home? Keep that up."
She giggled, "I was kidding, I swear!" She laid one hand on my arm, "You're a hunk, Big Bro, I know loads of girls who would just love to spend a night with you."
I blinked. That was news to me. "Bullshit."
"No, really. I've seen the way girls look at you."
"Really?"
She smiled at me. "Hundred percent."
It was a nice image, but still I didn't believe her. She was my sister; she was supposed to say nice things. I realized it was my turn, and wanted to pull the conversation away from me. There'd been something I'd been wondering since she first mentioned this trip, and this seemed as good a time as any to ask the question.
"So why did you really book this trip? Did you book it to get away from me?"
"Tough to do that when you're coming with me."
"Yeah, but I wasn't originally, was I? So answer the question."
It was her turn to squirm now. "Yes, okay? I originally booked it to have an excuse to get some time alone. Happy now?"
"So what changed? Why insist I take you?"
It might've been her turn in the game, but I figured she'd answer. She did.
"Because when Mom suggested you take me, it became a chance for us to spend some time together. I liked that idea."
I glanced across at her, wanting to see her face, but the need to keep my eyes on the road stopped me from really examining her expression. Still, she'd seemed genuine. It was a nice sentiment.
"Well, you've got me now," I said, lightly.
"I get two questions," she said, and I supposed that was fair. "First, you have to tell me everything you've done with the two girls, and then second, why you think they didn't want to sleep with you again."
I blushed, glancing away. "I'm not answering that." I knew why we hadn't got around to sleeping together again; it was because we'd broken up. That wasn't the problem, but it was the other part I wasn't prepared to share. I hadn't done anything else, and I really didn't want to admit to that.
Stupid game, anyway.
She clapped her hands together. "Yay! Then you owe me a dare when we get to the hotel."
Crap. I'd forgotten about that.
*
We were pretty beat when we finally turned the car into the parking lot at the hotel.
Emma had said the convention had run all today and was scheduled for tomorrow too and had spoken enthusiastically about what she would do when we arrived, but in the end, we didn't get in until almost six in the evening and we were both exhausted.
"Let's get checked in, then maybe we can get some food?" she suggested.
This seemed like a reasonable plan and I went to get our bags while she talked to the front desk.
We met up a few moments later by the elevators.
"Room 614," she said, waggling a key card.
"Just one room?" I asked. I supposed I should've thought about sleeping arrangements prior to this point, but it hadn't occurred to me.
"Yeah, well I booked the last one they had yesterday. It's kinda why we're here -- there was only one room left when I had the idea. This was all on a whim, wasn't it?"
I shrugged. "I suppose so."
We rode the elevator up in silence and it dinged its arrival on the sixth floor. I followed Emma down to our room.
"Here we are," she said, pushing open the door. "After a day in the car, I'm dying for a shower."
I pulled our two bags in, letting the door close behind me. "Er... Em... this is a double."
"It's a king, actually."
"Yeah, but..." The room was basically the bed and some simple furniture, and the ensuite. There was obviously no room for a sofa bed. "It doesn't have a sofa bed."
"We can share, silly."
"I'm not sleeping with my sister. I'll get my own room."
She sighed and rolled her eyes at me. "There are no other rooms. The convention is here. The hotel is full, isn't it? Besides, you'd just be throwing money away. It's a king bed, there's plenty of space. We can share just fine. Don't be a wuss, okay?"
I bristled at the 'wuss' comment, but I supposed she was right. "Okay, if you're sure."
"I'm sure." She walked to the bathroom, reaching for the hem of her strappy top and pulled it swiftly over her head, leaving her in just her bra. "I'm going to take a shower first, okay?"
"Er, sure," I said, watching the naked skin of her back as she disappeared into the ensuite. Was this going to get weird? I sure hoped not.
She came out a while later, wearing only a towel. It was barely long enough to cover her ass. "Your turn," she said.
I found myself torn between wanting to stay and watch her take that towel off, and wanting to be anywhere but in the same room when she did. I got up and headed into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. My pulse was racing, and my palms were sweaty. Fuck, what was happening here? I mean, sure, a brother and a sister can share a hotel room together just fine, but is that still the case after they'd kissed? After I'd spanked her? After I'd seen her naked -- more than once?
I stood beneath the spray, sluicing away the day's travel, and trying not to think too hard about my sister in the next room. But before I stepped out, I flicked the shower over to full cold, and forced myself to stand beneath it while I shivered. That'll help the fucking libido.
Wrapping a towel around my waist I opened the door to our room.
She was standing by the window, and I saw she was already dressed in a nice yellow summer dress I hadn't seen before. Suited her and looked expensive, too. I only had casual stuff in my bag.
"Shall we get some dinner?" she said, turning to regard me, and her eyes seemed to roam over my naked torso. Well, she had called me a 'hunk' earlier; maybe she'd meant it.
"Sure. Gimme a moment to find some clothes."
She leant against the back of the chair, watching blatantly.
"Er... little privacy?" I asked.
"Why? You've seen me naked," she said.
While that was true, I wasn't about to drop my towel in front of my sister. Especially after standing under a cold shower for two minutes. I picked out clothes from my bag and headed back into the bathroom to dress.
I stepped out a few moments later dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.
"You look very nice," she said, "and that reminds me. You owe me a dare."
"Okay," I said cautiously, "Lay it on me."
"Well," she said, looking suddenly almost nervous, "it occurred to me that no one here knows us, right?"
"Right," which I was certain was going to be a welcome relief for whatever she said next.
"So... how about we pretend to be a couple, this evening?"
I cocked my head, looking at her suspiciously, "How do you mean?"
"I want you to take me out on a date," she said, quickly. "I want you to hold my hand, and... and... treat me like you'd treat your girlfriend, and... kiss me at the end of the evening."
I hadn't expected that, and it was obvious she'd had it all planned out. She hadn't just thought of it, despite her 'that reminds me' comment. I wondered when she'd planned this. Maybe while she was in the shower, but probably back in the car. Yet as I looked at her, standing there in that dress, looking as hot and as cute as I'd ever seen her, I realized she was right: no one knew us here. So what if we played a game for one evening? If that's what she wanted, I couldn't see the harm. Besides, we'd already kissed once.
"Sure," I said. Besides, maybe I wanted to kiss her again.
She looked at me seriously. "You have to sell it to me. Make me believe it. Otherwise it doesn't count."
I bowed gracefully, extending my arm to her. We'd both taken dance lessons in our teens, back when we couldn't say no to our parents, and secretly I'd never regretted it. It was easy to move with grace, and fun to play the gentleman. "You look beautiful tonight. May I escort you to dinner?"
She giggled. "Sure."
We walked together out of the room and as soon as she'd locked the door and slipped the key card in her purse, I took her hand. She beamed at me, a smile of such genuine delight, and held my hand in both of hers, pressing herself against my arm as we made our way to the elevators. They had mirrors inside, and as we entered, I saw our reflection: that of a young couple, pressing close, looking for all the world like they were in love. It was cute. Romantic. Okay, she was my sister, but we were far from home, and this was just one evening. If it made her happy, what was the harm? And she was happy, I could see it in her eyes.
I pressed the floor for the lobby and then slid my arm around her waist, pulling her against me. It seemed a natural thing to do -- in the spirit of the roleplay, at least -- and she responded by placing her hand on my chest and pressing herself against me. The summer dress she wore was thin, and I could feel her body beneath it, and it was a temptation to trail my hand down over her ass. But that would be going too far. Wouldn't it?
When the elevator dinged, we made our way into the lobby, holding hands again, then outside in search of a restaurant suitable for the occasion. The convention's hotel wasn't near anywhere suitable, but a quick Uber into the city solved that problem. Gone was the idea of burritos or pizza, and when I found an Italian near the Charles river, I knew it was what we needed. We took a cozy table in one corner, and the waiter delighted in ensuring we had a candle for the ambience.
We ordered food, and as we chose from the menus her foot brushed up against my leg beneath the table. She'd clearly slipped her shoe off, for I could feel her toes caressing against my calf.
"You're better at this than I thought you'd be," she said, when the waiter left with our order.
I was glad she thought so, but it had been her taking the initiative. I shrugged, displaying some nonchalance anyway, in keeping with the role. "Not my first rodeo."
"Oh, I know. I can tell," she said, taking my hand in hers. Her brow furrowed and she looked thoughtful. "First date and all, can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," I said.
"Why did you just sleep with those girls once?"
I squirmed, uncomfortable again. Was it worse answering as her brother, or as her date? Perhaps, if I held on to the role, it would be easier. "Couple of things, I guess. First girl... the sex just wasn't very good, you know? It was my first time -- obviously -- but hers too. I just think we wanted to lose our V-cards. It was never going to be more."
She nodded, "Makes sense. And Penelope?"
"Penny," I corrected, with a smile. I shrugged, "We broke up soon afterward."
"Was the sex part of the reason?"
"Yes," I said, "but not how you're thinking." I looked down at the tablecloth, trying not to blush. "It was her that was crap, not me. She just lay there, the whole time, doing nothing. And she just didn't want to do anything other than missionary. No other positions, no blowjobs, nothing."
She squeezed my hand. "And if the other was your first... does that mean you've never had a blowjob?"
I closed my eyes, feeling the heat in my cheeks. "No," I admitted. Was there anything worse to have to say to your own sister?
But she didn't laugh at me.
"I'd have given you a blowjob," she said. "If I were your girlfriend, I mean."
I looked at her in surprise, but she seemed perfectly sincere. No hint of a smirk, or a game, or teasing me. I felt my cock twitch at the thought, that my own sister had said such a thing. But then, we were just roleplaying. We were a couple for the night, and she was playing the part.
The waiter arrived with our food, sparing me the need to find a reply.
For a while we just ate and said little, then she began to talk again. She asked questions about what I wanted to do after college, where I might want to live. It was innocuous enough, but strange when it was Emma asking, yet as if we were on a date. All the while her foot played with mine beneath the table, and her fingers trailed across my hands. I spent the evening feeling a tumult of emotions and was relieved when I was able to call for the bill.
We left the restaurant hand-in-hand, the waiter watching us with a fond smile. If only he knew. Or maybe he was just watching her, and not us at all. Yeah, that was probably more likely; my sister was beautiful in that dress.
"I'm not ready to go back to the hotel yet," Emma said. "Let's go for a walk."
We headed to the river and took a stroll down the causeway, and in the late summer sun it was still early enough for it to be barely dusk. We held hands, but soon that wasn't enough for Emma, and she pulled my arm against her and nuzzled in closer.
"What are we doing?" I asked her softly.
"Enjoying our date," she said, evidently not yet ready to break the spell.
If she still wanted more, then who was I to not see through the dare she'd set me? And on the bank of the river I turned to her, taking her in my arms. She melted against me, her body pressed to mine through the thin material of her dress, and I took her chin in my fingers. She lifted her face to mine, closing her eyes, and we kissed not as brother and sister, but as lovers. Our tongues played together, as for a moment we gave ourselves to the illusion we'd created.
But she wasn't a girl I could lose myself with, she was my sister. I broke the kiss gently, trying to ignore the question in her eyes. "We should go back," I murmured.
"I suppose so," she said, her tone suddenly sad.
The return Uber was a quiet affair, both of us lost in our thoughts, and we didn't hold hands on the back seat. I paid the driver and we walked back in to our hotel, heading to the elevator, but now the mood was different. I'd completed my dare, right up to the point of kissing her as she'd asked, and we both knew it. For a moment, it had been a fun illusion, but that was all it had ever been.
"Do you want to shower first?" she asked, kicking off her shoes inside our room.
"Sure."
They were the first words we'd swapped since the kiss on the riverbank, and despite the casual nature of them there was an awkwardness hanging in the air, a weight that seemed to remain. Perhaps that was just me, perhaps Emma felt nothing of it, but I couldn't help but feel uneasy as I stood beneath the spray. Just knowing she was waiting in the room and that we were going to share a bed added further to my sense of discomfort. Had this just a game to her, and if so, was it finished? Now that I'd seen through my dare, could we put it behind us?