Chapter 328 - STAY FOR THE

"Hi Mom. I just saw a weather report, and it looks like something big is headed for you."

"I heard the report, Doug. We have our storm shutters up, and they've held through some rough winds. I'm not too worried about it. If it gets too bad, we have that safe room your dad had put in, the one with all that reinforced concrete and the steel beams across the ceiling."

"Right. And that bomb-proof door to the outside. It's like a bank vault."

"Yeah, I think he got a bit carried away. It's done though, and he's happy with it."

"Okay Mom. Well, I just wanted to say 'hi'. Stay safe."

"We'll be fine. You take care of yourself -- you're loved."

"Bye Mom"

I didn't think much more about it. They'd been in that house more than twenty years, and never had much damage, not even in that big storm a few years ago. It made an impression on me, though. I moved somewhere that doesn't have that kind of weather. Earthquakes, yes; tornadoes, no, and it's never been more than the dishes rattling. Then, the weather guys always add a dramatic edge to that kind of thing, just so no one can say, "You should have warned us!"

So, it was a bit of a shock to see the town next to theirs on the news, next morning. Helicopter cameras showed a tornado path that looked like a giant roto-tiller came through, and the newscaster said they still didn't have an official count of how many touched down. I called my mother immediately, and got some message like "that number is unavailable." That really made me nervous. I forced myself not to call more than once an hour, since the lines were probably swamped with people like me trying to call in.

I finally got through about four in the afternoon.

"Mom! Are you okay? What happened?"

"I'm still not sure. We were off to the side of the worst of it, but still had damage to the house. The storm hit north of us too, and dumped an enormous amount of rain. What really got us was the flooding. The river had never been that high before, and we had nearly a foot of water on the first floor." I heard a catch in her voice, like she was about to cry.

"How's Dad?"

"He's fine, and that crazy concrete room just paid for itself. We didn't even know about the flooding until we opened the door and saw trash cans floating in the back yard. I'm not sure whose they were; I have no idea what county ours ended up in."

"Where are you now?"

"They turned the high school gymnasium into an emergency shelter. There's no privacy, but the cots are comfortable enough. The food isn't bad, all things considered, and we can charge our phones. We're waiting for the emergency crews to finish with the downed power lines and stuff, so they'll let us back to our houses."

"I guess the cell towers took a beating, too. I've been trying to get you all day."

"I'd believe it. I still have no idea what the damage really was. Might not know for a few days."

"Mom, if you and Dad are in one piece, that's all I care about. And Ginny was at school, so that's one less worry."

"Oh, right. And she was supposed to come home for the summer in two weeks." A deep sigh and a dead sound in her voice told me she was in shock, with too many things coming at her all at once. That was yet another. The sound of her voice said her caring was all used up.

"Mom, you take care of yourself, and hug Dad for me. I'll let you go now."

I kept in touch over the next week, and heard more as it emerged. FEMA arranged a hotel for them, in neighboring town, so they had lodging of a sort. The house had some wind damage, but that could be fixed easily enough. And, more then just the shirts on their backs, they could get some changes of clothes and some personal items. Flooding was the real problem, though. Pumping the basement out would take days, and the bottom of the first floor drywall was still so wet you could poke a finger through it. That left questions about wiring and insulation behind the walls, too. And of course, every contractor in the area code was working sixteen hour days, so repairs would take some time. Even if they could find the materials to repair with -- everyone would be competing for them.

I talked to Ginny, too. Her dorm would close for the summer in a week, and there wasn't much to go back to back home. My apartment has two bedrooms, though. I had one set up as my office, but offered it to her. She liked the idea, and my parents thanked me profusely. They even offered to pay half the rent while she stayed. I had, and still have a good job, but the offer was too good to turn down.

My parents decided that any upholstered furniture on the first floor had to go. They were still salvaging what they could of the basement, but mold on the drywall upstairs became a big concern. It was a good thing most of my father's tools were in the garage, but just about everything at floor level was a loss.

Their concerns dwarfed mine, but I still had to make some room for Ginny. I guess I should describe her. She's about five years younger than me, and we've always gotten along just fine, except for her wanting to tag along with me and my high school friends. I think a bit of big-brother hero worship helped keep things pleasant between us. She wasn't in high school yet when I moved out. She was a cute girl, but something of late bloomer. Every time I came home from college, she must have grown an inch or two. That knees-and-elbows kid I left gradually filled out into an eye-catching woman, too. And tall. I'm a little under 180 centimeters, ordinary for a guy, but she might have ten or fifteen centimeters over me. She got Dad's height, and being taller than any boy in her class was not good for her ego. The teasing, maybe even some bullying seemed relentless. The girls might have been jealous too, when they looked at the slim curves she had grown into. My high school years were bad, but hers were miserable.

That changed when she got to college. Her striking figure got a lot of attention, and she learned to stand up straight and own her height. She cut her hair, too, turning her dark hair from a long, amorphous curtain into a very feminine pixie cut. Her new-found confidence made her even more attractive. It was a real pleasure to see her that Saturday, when I went to her school to pick her up. She had a few more boxes than I expected, but we crammed everything into my car. We chatted easily on the drive back to my place. Well, she chatted and I mostly just listened.

She did well in her engineering program. The first two years are much the same for everyone in engineering: a lot of math, a broad base of science, humanities requirements, and introductions to the fields they might specialize in. I did much the same at a different school, so I recognized a lot of what she described. As we got closer to the town I lived in, conversation was less about school and more about family. She kept close touch with our parents, especially Mom, and got a somewhat different view of their disaster than I did. It sounded more personal, more about the other families we knew, and more about the problems of their daily lives.

We stopped for supper on the way home, and found a decent Italian restaurant. It startled me for a moment when she ordered a glass of Chianti, until I remembered she had turned twenty one last fall. As we ate, conversation turned more toward her new living arrangement. I described the place and the room she'd be using. It was the bigger of the bedrooms, but still had my desk in it. Even with me working from home (thank you COVID!), that didn't seem to be a big deal. We could schedule around it. I was between girlfriends at the time, and asked if she'd be bringing anyone home for the night. She blushed, but said she didn't have anyone special. Her school relationships were the kind she left at school.

It was late when we got in, and later when we finished the first round of unpacking. I had cleared the bedroom closet, a couple of shelves in the storage closet, and a drawer in the bathroom. They filled up quickly with clothes, books, and womanly needs, but a lot of boxes were still packed. Ginny took it with good grace when I apologized for the sleeping bag she'd have to use that first night. We took turns in the bathroom and said good night. She gave me a hug and leaned down for a peck on the cheek, and we both turned in.

Next morning, I heard her rustling in the kitchen. I saw her squatted down, checking a lower cabinet. She wore pajama shorts and top in some soft, light blue material. Her long frame left a gap between top and shorts, and the pant legs had ridden up in the back as she squatted. I tried to ignore the curve of her butt when I greeted her.

"It's your kitchen too,while you're here. Everything is fair game, unless I label it. Just let me know what gets used up."

"Thanks," she said. "I'm impressed. You're pretty well stocked. I expected a lot more beer and ramen."

I laughed. "Even when I was in school I ate better than that. Start a shopping list if you want, but let's get moving. We have a lot to do today."

Soon we sat down to eggs, toast, and a bowl of melon chunks for each of us. And coffee, of course. She skipped the top two buttons of her loose shirt, and sometimes showed a curve of breast as she moved or leaned over. She seemed quite unconscious of it and of that gentle bra-less bobble, and I tried not to stare. There was nothing to gain in making her feel uncomfortable here, not when she'd be spending the whole summer.

I outlined my plan for the day: Ikea to get her bedroom set up, plus whatever other shopping she'd need to settle in properly.

"Sounds good to me." she said. "Do you want first shower?"

"Later," I answered. "It's a warm day and there might be some sweaty work ahead. You go ahead. I'll change and clean up the dishes."

"Okay. I think I'll skip the shower too, and just brush my teeth."

A few minutes later I had food put away and dishes in the dishwasher. Back in the bedroom -- my bedroom now -- I changed into jeans and a tee shirt. While I was changing, I heard the toilet flush, the bathroom door open, and the office door -- her bedroom door close. I knocked on the bathroom door anyway, just to get into the habit.

I half expected a full-scale feminine invasion of the bathroom, but her presence was quite minimal and practical: another towel and face cloth on the towel bars, another toothbrush on the sink deck, another shampoo and some conditioner in the shower. Birth control pills next to her toothbrush, too. She's a grown woman after all, so that didn't surprise me. For a moment, though, I wondered who she'd been with. Even though she's twenty one, I still feel some big-brother protectiveness. And maybe a twinge of jealousy that I tried to ignore.

When I finished in the bathroom, she was ready to go. She wore a short sleeved shirt, mostly unbuttoned over a black sport bra, jeans, and sneakers. A baseball cap topped it off, and she looked ready to get the job done. Ikea was about a half hour away. We chatted in the car, mostly about what we'd get. She had already checked the web site, and had solid ideas about a sleep sofa, small chest of drawers for a night stand, and a book case. We both liked the choices she'd made once we saw them, and added two lamps and something like a coffee table to the list. Then sheets, a pillow, and pillow cases. We looked at a blanket, but figured she wouldn't need it for the summer. I felt like a clod for having overlooked so many of those minor necessities, but was happy to get it all in one trip. I wasn't sure how it would all fit my smallish car. With the back seat down, though, it all fit with nothing sticking out the back of the trunk. Best of all, it wasn't that expensive. That rent check coming from my parents should cover most of it.

As we drove home, Ginny asked "Do you mind if I put some coat hooks on the closet door?"

"Not at all. I'll be happy to put them up for you."

"Just let me know where the tool box is and I'll take care of it." I find something very attractive in competent women.

We stopped at a hardware store for the hooks and an extension cord, then at a grocer. Ginny offered to make supper and I agreed. Mom made sure we could both feed ourselves decently and I like cooking, but I don't mind sharing the chore. She ran into the store while I waited in the car. ("Don't peek, I want it to be a surprise.") One more stop for a bottle of wine, and another for something at a drug store, and we were home. Ginny helped bring the bigger boxes in from the car and put the food away while I brought the smaller things up. She already had the sleep sofa half assembled by the time I got it all in. I offered to help, but she brushed me away. ("We'd just get in each other's way.") I unpacked the sheets and pillow cases and threw them in my apartment's washer. Feeling a bit useless, I started unpacking the last of Ginny's boxes. I stacked the books where we agreed the book case would go, and found some more clothes that would go in the storage under the new sofa. It was tee shirts, shorts, and underwear. Some of the underwear looked more pretty than practical, but I figured it's just one of those girl things. Of course, an image of her in those came to me immediately. I knew I shouldn't, but I let myself enjoy that bit of imagination.

When I got to the last box, Ginny looked up and said "No, not that one." She sounded a little alarmed and she blushed. "It's okay, I'll get to it later." I had already been through her underwear, so I wondered what she'd be shy about.

We had worked through without stopping for lunch, finishing by about four p.m. Ginny looked around at her new sleeping arrangements, and seemed satisfied. I asked, "Are you all set?"

She sat on the sofa and answered, "I guess so, at least for now. This will be a lot more comfortable than I thought, and that reading lamp is in a great position. What do you think?"

"I think I skipped lunch and I'm starving."

"You go take that shower we talked about this morning. I'll have supper ready in about forty five minutes."

"Sounds good. What are we having?"

"A surprise. Now scoot. When you've showered, check your email or whatever until I call you."

I went to my bedroom and undressed. Yeah, I could really use that shower. My room has a door directly into the bathroom. I almost opened it out of habit, then remembered and knocked. No answer, so it was mine. I luxuriated in the hot water, feeling some of that heavy carrying in my shoulders. I toweled dry and went back to my room, being sure to shut the bathroom door properly -- something I'd have to get used to. Naked and pleasantly cool from the shower, I thought about rubbing one off. I was half hard already, and my scrotum had pulled in tight. That always make playing with myself a bit more exciting. I wasn't sure when Ginny would call for dinner, though, and didn't want to get stopped in mid wank. So, I dressed, clean underwear and tee shirt, same jeans, and pulled up my favorite time-wasting web site.

Ginny called after twenty minutes or so. When I opened my door, I almost didn't recognize my own living room. Ginny had found candles somewhere. There was still plenty of afternoon light coming in the windows, but it was an elegant touch. The table was beautifully set, too. I recognized a dish of sesame green beans, and a salad of tomato and mozzarella chunks, tossed with chopped basil, a little balsamic, and a lot of olive oil. A big dish of pasta swam in a creamy tan sauce that smelled of mushrooms. She had found my real wine glasses, too. "Wow, Gin. You really outdid yourself. And all in forty five minutes?"

"A bit more than forty five, but it's all simple stuff. It goes together quickly."

"Quick, easy, and delicious. That's my favorite recipe."

I noticed some music playing, too, some undemanding jazz. We didn't talk much as we ate and sipped an inexpensive viognier. The food was so good that my mouth was never empty enough for talking. I had seconds of everything, and I think my taste buds wanted more well after my stomach was full. We both sat back about the same time, happy and sated. I broke the comfortable silence, saying "You cooked, so I clean up. House rule."

She stood and bowed. "I hear and obey. I'll be in my room for a while." I was happy to hear her sound possessive about it. I figured that meant she had really settled in, after just a day or two.

There was some of each dish left over, but not much. I packed it all up, finished the last sip of wine in the bottle, and loaded the dishwasher. When that was all set, I got my laptop from my room and sat at the table. I faced it away from the bedroom doors, so Ginny wouldn't see the porn site I was looking at. It's the best amateur porn writing I've found. I mean, a lot of it is pretty bad, and a lot of it just doesn't work for me. There are gems, though, and a lot of semen has seen daylight while reading them. Ginny opened her door after a while, wearing a fluffy white bathrobe. It covered her down to her knees, with the occasional flash of leg when the front parted. A few steps had her in the bathroom with a closed door behind her. Maybe it was the reading, but I found it easy to imagine her naked in the shower, wet and slick with soap. You know, the kind of thing a brother isn't supposed to think about a sister. She went back to her room a while later, robed and still toweling her short hair dry. I don't think she even looked at me.

I heard her talking again, presumably another phone call and I went back to reading porn. I started a few that were so bad I gave up after the second or third scroll down. 'Cripes,' I thought. 'I'm no writer, but I can do better than some of this crap.'

Almost immediately, my inner voice answered, 'You think so? Prove it.' Challenge accepted. I closed my laptop and started to think of something to write. Ginny came back out after I had spent a few minutes trying to put something together and sat down. She was still in her bathrobe, and started talking. "Are you busy? I can come back later."

"Go ahead. I was lost in thought."

"I just talked to Mom and Dad. It's a real mess back there. The town finally cleared the down trees and wires, and the utilities are back on. The house is a wreck, though. Just about everything from the basement went into a dumpster, and they'll be ripping most of the first floor apart."

"Wow. Can they actually live there?"

"Sort of. Bedrooms and a bathroom are on the second floor. Except for the dishwasher, the appliances seem to work. And they were bleeding money into the hotel they were staying at."

We went on for a while, going over the details of the damage and recovery. I found it hard to keep my eyes on Ginny's face, though. The robe's lapels kept shifting as she moved. There was plenty of "side boob," but it was the inside edge, across her sternum, not the outside. Once, I thought I saw the edge of an areola. Ginny isn't a chesty type, but how much does a lady actually need? She looks great in a swim suit, with the curves in perfect proportion.

"Oh, one more thing." Ginny paused. "I talked to Dad, and he really appreciates you letting me stay here. It must be a big disruption for you."

"It's different, but I wouldn't call it a disruption. I just need to remember to knock on the bathroom door and leave the seat down, mostly."

She laughed. "It's kind of you to say that, and I'll pretend to believe you. I appreciate it, too. I have no idea how I would have lived down there." Her bedroom had been on the first floor.

I had to answer, "Look, it's an emergency. Stuff like this comes out of nowhere, and it has to be dealt with. You seem well settled in, and I really don't mind. I mean, you're my favorite little sister."

She laughed again. "Yeah, little. Right. Seriously, though, it's the first time we've spent more than a day together as adults. You're a lot easier to talk to than I was afraid you'd be."both grown up a lot since I moved out, and we don't have anything to fight about."

"True enough, but that was no reason for kids to stop fighting each other."

I yawned and stretched. "It's been a long, busy day for me, and I have to work in the morning. I'm going to turn in."

"Me too. How about a hug for your little sister?"

I managed to keep it affectionate but fraternal. I didn't feel like trying to explain a boner. I undressed for bed once my door was closed, and could encourage an erection. She really had an effect on me, and seemed totally unaware. Ginny had grown into a gorgeous woman, who was smart and capable on top of it. The kind of woman I hoped to find.

I lay on top of the sheet for a while, idly playing with myself. I saw plenty of kleenex on the nightstand, so went ahead and got to work on it. Pre-come started oozing. I wet my hand with saliva to spread it around, and my rubbing took on a very different feel -- my hand actually sliding along it, instead of just shifting the skin back and forth. I cupped my balls with the other hand, enjoying the warmth and pressure. I moved that hand to tug one of my nipples, too.

I was well into it when I heard a thump from Ginny's room. That stopped me cold, and I listened to find out what had happened. Another thump, and I heard Ginny moaning. It took me a moment to realize she wasn't hurt, far from it. She was doing the same as me, releasing the pressures of the day, whatever they might have been for her. My hand started again before I even realized it was moving, masturbating along with her, even if she didn't know it. Soon her voice soared, until she bit it back. She was coming. I was a lot quieter, but pumped a hug wad of semen toward my chest. Four or five more good strokes, and I was pumped dry. I kept my hand on my penis, though, and felt it shrink in my hand. After a couple of minutes, I let go, wiped myself up, and dumped the tissues in the trash. I had to admit, life with Ginny was getting interesting.

I woke up about six the next morning, and started my morning ritual. You know, the part I do on autopilot, before I'm fully awake. I started to make my French press coffee, then jolted into the realization I'd have to make two cups today, minimum. I clattered around in the kitchen a bit and got the bigger press out. I loaded that with coffee while the microwave heated the water, then started cutting up two bowls of melon. Ginny seemed to like that yesterday. I heard her door open a little later, and she plodded out, still wiping sleep from her eyes. She wore the same pajamas as yesterday, but I think only one button halfway down held it closed. I'm sure that wasn't for my benefit, but I liked the look. It practically begged for "wardrobe malfunction."

She yawned and said, "You're up early."

"It's a work day for me. By the way, do you mind if I go to your room for a few things from my desk?"

"It's your apartment, go ahead."

"But it's your room in my apartment. Thanks." I fetched my work laptop and a few other things, and set up at the far end of the table. I put a bowl of melon and cup of coffee in front of her, then got my own. I thought about bringing up her night-time activity last night, but decided against it. Her room is private, and she's welcome to do in private the things people do in private. And I'm no better, in truth. And no worse, just quieter.

She revived a bit and I asked her about plans for the day. She had started looking on line for summer work yesterday, since all of her internship applications fell through. I wasn't surprised. My company has fewer than 1% as many intern slots as applications. With that possibility gone, she'd take just about anything that came up. She mentioned that she'd applied for jobs as a waitress, something at the local chain hardware store, at the big hotel in town for their summer rush, and a few other things along those lines. She had scholarships and support from Mom and Dad, enough to cover school expenses, but a summer job would get her more discretionary spending. That was her word for 'fun stuff'.

It's a brutal job market out there, and she was competing against every other college student and lots of high school students for some slot that would pay a measly pittance. She came home Monday frustrated and discouraged. I had already started on supper, a big fritata to split, pan-browned potatoes, and that tomato salad from yesterday filled out with chunks of cucumber. Ginny glanced at it and said, "That looks great, Doug! I just don't feel very good right now. I'm not sure my stomach could handle much more than ice water."

I filled a glass for her, and she retreated to her room. Oh well, supper for me and lots of leftovers. I went back to thinking about that challenge and trying a few ideas. After a few hours I had deleted exactly as much as I had written, and understood that writing isn't is easy as I thought. I turned everything off and started for bed. I undressed and started a shower, to save time in the morning. While I was soaping up, I heard Ginny come running across the living room. She slammed the bathroom door open, head straight for the toilet, and started throwing up before she had time to lift the seat. I shut off the shower and, dripping wet, went over to her. She has paused for a moment, chest heaving, and started again. I sat down next to her and waited. I noticed that she had her pajamas on, but the top was completely open. Her breasts hung and swayed as she puked, but there was nothing erotic about the moment. It really just added to her pathetic look. I stood up and got a glass of water for her and sat down again. I asked, "Are you okay?"

Ginny looked at me with bleary eyes and took the water. She rinsed her mouth, spat into the toilet, gargled and spat again, and sat back with her shirt still open. "I feel lousy. I have no idea what happened. I felt great all day. Right now, I can barely move."

I stood up and flushed the toilet. That's when I realized that she was still sitting on the floor, I was still naked and wet, and my dick was almost in her face. It wasn't a moment to worry about who saw what, but I backed off some. "Ginny, just take it easy for now." She sipped the water cautiously, but wasn't rushing to get away from the toilet. I stood again and toweled off, then stepped past her to get to my room for some clothes. While I was dressing, I heard her retch again. When I got back, there was a little more in the toilet and Ginny was rinsing her mouth again. I also saw bits of puke on her shirt and chest. I went back to my room and got another tee shirt. Then I went back to the bathroom, got some warm water on a washcloth, and sat next to her again. "Is it okay if I clean you up a little?"

She nodded without looking at me. I wiped her chin first, then her chest between her breasts. They're perfect, slumping a bit to the side as she leaned back, but the contrast between her bare beauty and miserable state left me feeling concern and pity for her more than anything else. That didn't stop an erection from starting, though. Well, I thought, she already knows what it is, if she notices at all. "Your shirt's a mess, Ginny. Here, put this on." I put the folded tee shirt in her lap. She came alive, a little, and started wrestling with her shirt. She fumbled a bit, so I helped push it off her shoulders. Then I helped her get the clean shirt on. I folded the pajama top and threw it in the laundry -- that one was going to get washed very soon, before it stunk up the whole house.

"Are you okay? There's an urgent care center not far away."

Ginny stood up, a bit wobbly. "Maybe it's just a stomach bug. I think I'll be all right." She made it back to her room and closed the door. I was happy that the apartment came with a small washer and dryer. The pajama top and washcloth went in, along with a few other things to make a whole load. I read while the washer ran, and listened for more activity in Ginny's room. And, with the crisis past, I called up the memory of those small, full breasts. I'd seen her in bathing suits plenty of times, but the soft, pink nipples made it a very different experience.

The washer finished. I moved the wet load to the dryer and went to bed, my mind still full of lovely pink nipples.

I woke up about my usual time, and saw Ginny at the table, sipping a glass of water. She still had my tee shirt on, a little loose at the shoulders, tight across the chest, and short at the hem. "How are you doing?"

"Better, but not great. I think this water is about all I can handle right now. And I swear I'm never eating another tuna sandwich from a food truck again."

"You were in rough shape last night. It's good to see you up and about. If you want a cup of coffee or something, let me know."

"Thanks, just water for now." She sipped and looked thoughtful. "Uh, Doug. I didn't mean to flash you last night. And if I had had the runs, you would have seen everything."

"You got a good look at me too." She nodded and looked away. "It wasn't a moment to worry about that kind of thing. I didn't see a naked woman last night. I saw my little sister, sick and vulnerable."

"And I didn't see a naked man last night. I saw my big brother taking care of me. It reminded me of that time when I was about six and got sick when Mom was away. Dad took care of me, and made me feel safe. You made me feel safe last night. Can I have a hug?"

I got down next to her chair, then put one arm around her shoulder and the other across her stomach. She towered over me, as usual, but put an arm around my shoulder. We just held for a moment, then I got up. "It's another work day for me. Gotta get to it."

She answered, "I should be job-hunting too, but I think I'll just go back to bed. I'm really not up for much more."

I went to the end of the table designated as my temporary desk and opened my work laptop. Despite what I told Ginny, I did see a naked woman last night, or half naked. And, once the crisis passed I could recognize that I did see very beautiful woman, and that she was my sister. That stirred up a mix of feelings I didn't want to look into. Unfortunately, I knew they'd still be there after I finished work.

A few hours later, she padded over to the kitchen, got something, and padded back to her room again. She came out again while I taking my lunch break, dressed for the day. She stopped by me on her way out and kissed the top of my head. "I'll be out for a while, but back for supper. Need anything while I'm out?"

"I don't think so. I'll text if I can think of anything."

The next few days, we barely saw each other -- a quick hello at breakfast, some idle chatter over supper, then her retreating to her room. I started to feel that she was avoiding me. Other than when she was sick, though, I heard the sofa thumping and her moaning every night. I'm usually a once-in-the-morning guy about jerking off, sometimes another one at night or on a day off. She was making me into a nocturnal wanker, though, leading by example. One night, she even went twice. I tried to keep up, but her second one came fast and mine, me being male, came a lot more slowly. It was fun anyway.

Friday, Ginny phoned home with good news. The hardware store hired her, partly because she could tell a machine screw from a carriage bolt, and knew why you'd want one or the other. It was indoor work, no heavy lifting (I'm guessing an insurance thing), and decent money. I told her I'd be cooking that night. I quit work early and went shopping to make something special for her. I also got a bottle of Jack Daniels for me, and an extra bottle of wine -- make that two -- to share between us. I made a couple of curries, one with chick peas, one with dal, and both with lots of vegetables, a spicy fresh onion chutney, raita, and a chopped salad. I had some papadams from my last trip to the Indian grocer, too. (Maybe it's cheating, but they work fine in the microwave.) I didn't use curry powder either, I mixed my own spices to give each dish its own flavor. Rice, of course, the brown rice I usually use. Maybe the food

wasn't authentic, but they're flavors I like. Everything was on the table when she got home, including a big glass of a rich red wine for each of us.

"Congratulations to my gainfully employed sister!" I took a glass from the table and raised it to her.

She did likewise, and offered her own toast. "To paychecks! My god, Doug, you did all that today?"

"Like yours, easy, fast, and tasty. For the curries, that just meant stirring the pot occasionally. And I thought you'd want something to celebrate with."

"You sweetie. You didn't have to."

"If I had to, I probably wouldn't have wanted to. Sit, sit, it's getting cold." She hung her purse in the closet, kicked off her sneakers, and joined me at the table. She chattered happily about the people she'd talked to, but still seemed to be avoiding my gaze. Maybe it was the spices, but we both went at the wine more than usual and opened the second bottle only half-way through the meal. We both sat back, pleasantly stuffed, and she said "You cooked, right? I know my job."

"Well, only if you don't want desert. That specialty store," I named the ice cream shop where everything cost twice as much, but was worth three times as much, "had ginger and cardamom ice creams, and they're in the freezer waiting for us.

"Up til you said that, I was sure I couldn't eat another bite. Bring it on, and I'll clean up afterwards."

Despite her eagerness and mine, we each had small servings of both. While she was cleaning up, I invaded the kitchen long enough to get a good-sized Jack and an ice cube. Ginny saw what I had. "You've been holding out on me, haven't you?" She punched my shoulder as a gentle tease.

"Look, I just got it today, and I didn't know you even liked it. Feel free." She availed herself, then went back to the task at hand. The galley kitchen is too small for two people, so I sat off to the side and continued chatting while she bustled about her task. Mostly, I asked about school. Ginny said she was drawn to chemical engineering when time came to declare a major.

At the university I went to, the Engineering college was generally taken to have the hardest program. Within engineering, we agreed that the Chem E's had it worst. Among Chem E's, the ones in physical chemistry ("P chem") were said to have the toughest classes. No one knew what the ones in P Chem thought, because no one ever saw them. I did computer engineering which didn't have that kind of reputation, mostly because no one could figure out what it meant.

I had to ask, "Since you don't have a death wish, why Chem E?"

"A lot of reasons. I've looked over the thermo books, and I think I can keep up there. I like the number of different career paths in the field. And a lot of our environmental problems come from chemicals we use. Chem E's did a lot to create those problems and can do a lot to solve or prevent them. Also, I had a couple of great lecturers, and I liked the students in the introductory classes."

We had drifted back to the living room and sprawled on the couch. Talking about the students she liked wandered toward her love life. "I've got to tell you, the birth control pills were a waste of time. I think I'm the only twenty one year old virgin in the school." Maybe it was Jack Daniels talking, but I listened, somewhat surprised. High school was rough for both of us, in different ways, but I hoped college would give her more chances.

"There are the insecure guys intimidated by a woman taller than they are, the tall ones who tend to be jerks because they're big, and the pathetic desperate ones who'd fuck a hole in a fence. There must be some decent guys out there interested in someone like me, but I'm having a hell of a time finding them. It's like naming me 'Virginia' was some kind of a curse." After the wine at dinner, and a second Jack for each of us, we were both slurring some words. "`Scuse me, natural calls." She unfolded herself and made it to the bathroom.

While she was busy, I got a big glass of water for each of us. Ginny went to her room before coming back to the couch, and came back in her pajamas. She sat down next to me and leaned up against my shoulder. I shifted a bit to get more comfortable, and cradled her with one arm around her. She snuggled down too, and asked, "So what about you? I haven't heard you talk about anyone special in your life."

"Not much to tell. The COVID lockdown killed my social life, and I haven't really gotten out since."

Ginny faced away from me as she leaned against me. "A guy like you? You're smart, you can seduce with your cooking, and you're good looking. And you're the most caring guy I know. When I was sick, you jumped to take care of me. And..."

She fidgeted with the glass in her hand. "And you're good looking. I got to see that up close when you were taking care of me. All over."

I looked down at her, cuddled up against me. At that angle, I saw the top of her head, her chest, and her legs folded up on the couch. I also saw the top few buttons of her shirt opened up.

I stammered, "Uh, sorry about that. You caught me at an odd moment."

"Nothing to apologize for. It wasn't your choice for me to barge in on you like that. Or mine, really. But you really are good looking. And it was sweet the way you cleaned me up, as if I were still a little girl. But I couldn't help notice, were you getting hard when you wiped the puke off my chest?"

It took me a moment to find my voice. "Uh, well, some. The thing has a mind of its own."

"Even when I was a mess like that, you thought I was pretty?" She set her glass down and rolled onto her side, head in my lap. Her shirt flopped open as she did, leaving one breast entirely exposed.

"Ginny, you're about the most beautiful woman I know. And half bare, the way you were,..."

"You liked my boobs? They're not too small?"

"That's not what I was thinking about at the moment. But later, after you'd gone to bed, they were all I could think about. They're perfect."

It must have been the alcohol. She pushed her shirt open some more and asked, "Then why can't I find a guy who likes the way I look? I mean, I didn't ask to be like this."

"You mean tall, Ginny? Statuesque? Like a Valkyrie? Like a goddess?" I guess the alcohol had hit me, too. "Beautiful women scare some guys. We think, 'but what would she see in me?' and give up before we even start. Sometimes it just gets worse if they make the first move."

"I don't scare you, do I?"

"My little sister? Heck no. I love you too much."

She wrapped her arm around mine and pulled it close, pulled it up toward her chest. "You really think I'm beautiful? Then why don't I feel that way?" She had pulled my hand up to her breast. I cupped it and felt its fullness, its softness.

"I don't know what to say, Ginny."

"Maybe you shouldn't say anything. You're getting hard again, aren't you." With her head in my lap, I couldn't very well argue. "For me."

"Yes. For you, Ginny."

I wasn't prepared for what came next. She got up and went to her room, not saying a word. After the door closed, I heard her lock it. Then, softly, I thought I heard her sobbing. I had no idea what just happened. I went to her door and knocked. "Ginny? Are you okay?"

"Good night, Doug." A catch in her voice made me want to hug her, but I had been dismissed. I put the glasses in the dishwasher, put a few other things away, and went to my own bedroom. I lay awake for a long time. Any other night, I'd probably rub one off to help me sleep, but it didn't feel right that night. Eventually, though, I did sleep.

Some time later, I woke to darkness. I felt a hand on my shoulder, Ginny's hand. "Doug? Are you awake?"

I put my hand over hers. "Ginny, what are you doing here?""Do you really think I'm pretty?"

"Gorgeous. The most beautiful woman I know."

"Can you make me feel pretty?"

Maybe I should have felt more conflicted, but Ginny really needed something from me, something to make her pain go away. "Can you roll over, Gin? Onto your stomach?"

I rolled toward her and got up on one elbow. She lay there, nude and beautiful in the moonlight, waiting. I reached out to her shoulder and stroked her, from shoulder, to hip, to full, round rear. Then I kissed her shoulder, the one near me. I trailed kisses down her arm, to that soft spot inside her elbow, down to her open hand. I kissed the palm and each finger out to its tip. I climbed over her and did the same with her other arm, and kept one hand in the small of her back. Next, I straddled her, keeping most of my weight off her. I kissed her forehead, cheek, and ear. I kissed down her neck and across her shoulder. Ginny purred softly as I covered her back in kisses. I scooted down as I covered her back in kisses, down to the rich curve of her bottom. She gasped as I pressed my kisses into the flesh of that incredible rear, covering both sides almost into the crack. She lifted her hip as I did that and moved her hand under her, to touch herself, and I continued down to her thigh. Her womanly scent rose from between her legs. I pushed gently and she parted her legs for me. I covered that area where bum turns to thigh, and continued down.

Ginny moaned as I kissed the top of her thigh, outside and inside; maybe she trembled. I worked my way down, covering thigh, knee, and calf in kisses, pressing to fend off tickles. I got off her, raised her foot, and kissed my way across the sole. I took each between my lips,and felt her wiggle her toes. I moved to the other foot, praised that with my lips, and worked my way back up. At the top of her thigh, I pressed my face between her legs. She opened up even more. That let me kiss her inner thighs and the underside of her rear. Her breath came loud and ragged. I lay down on top of her, my full weight along her full length. After a moment, I whispered, "On your back, please. Your front is pretty, too."

I got off her and she rolled over, with her hands at her sides. I asked, "Were you touching yourself, lying on your stomach? You don't have to stop."

Ginny closed her eyes, turned away from me, and moved her hand back to her mound. I started back down at her feet again. I kissed her right foot all over, then her left. I worshiped her left calf, then right. I worked slowly up her thighs, outside and in -- she spread them wide for me, showing pink behind dark curly fur. I watched her play with herself, gently, to sustain her excitement, not to finish it. Still between her legs, I kissed all over the hand on her mound and inhaled her warm scent. I climbed over to her side, kissed the slow-moving hand again, and let my lips trace the lines of her arm, then her shoulder, neck, and cheek. I moved to her other side and kissed her free hand, from fingertips down. I took my time on her arm and shoulder, then neck and cheek. I started back at her shoulder again, then nibbled my way across the top of her chest. Back again, I felt more softness across the tops of her breasts. Next, the breast itself. I lifted it from the side, mounded it up, and kissed in circles til I reached the stiffened areola. That I pinched with my lips, tugging it even tighter. Then the nub of nipple. I took it into my mouth and pressed it with my lips and tongue. Ginny cradled my head with her free hand and pushed me into that softness. I scraped the nipple with my teeth, and she wriggled under me. It was awkward, but I leaned across her and did the same with her other breast.

I had been watching that hand on her mons. It seemed to work harder, pressing more firmly, reaching lower between her legs. I lay next to her, and slid my arm under her neck. Her nipple lay within reach. It felt full and firm between my fingers. "Ginny?"

She looked up a me, out of the depths of whatever trance she was in. "Can you come for me Gin? Can you play with yourself and come for me?" I tugged her nipple on 'come' and saw her mouth gape open. "You are so beautiful like this, I want to see you at your finest, when all those amazing things happen inside you. Let me see it build inside you Gin, getting bigger and bigger." Her hips rose and fell, her mouth wide open, her eyes on me completely. "It's amazing, Gin, seeing you like this, such a wonder. I've been hearing you at night, you know, when you come by yourself. Will you show me that? Will you show me how you come? Will you let me feel you come in my arms? I played with myself too, when I heard you. I had to, you sounded so wonderful, and I think I came when you did. May I see what you've been letting me hear? Will you come for me Ginny?" My stream of words teased and encourage. I softly pinched her nipple, never breaking the gaze we shared. Then it happened. Her gasps turned to the cries I had heard in the night. Her shoulders and hips rose, as orgasm curled within her. Wave after wave, it came over her again and again. Then she stopped still for a moment, relaxed back onto the bed, and lifted her wet fingers to my lips.

I kissed her fingers as I put my hand back where hers had been. Her clit still stood firm, still slick from her play. She gasped and shivered as I pushed her past where she'd pushed herself. Her vagina opened easily to one of my fingers, then two, and I kept the heel of my hand on her clit. It wasn't that stroke of lightning she'd given herself, but low, rolling thunder going on and on. She wrapped her arms around me and held me close. I could feel each wave of tension in every part of her with every part of me. I'd relax, then press my hand and curl my fingers inside her, and another aftershock grip would her. I had never seen a woman sustain that level of intensity for so long. After a while, though, she reached down to my hand, pressed it hard against and into her, and she gasped, "Hold, just hold." I stopped moving, but kept pressure on her clit and kept my fingers deep within her. She hadn't fully stopped, but had reached a lower plateau of intensity. Finally, she tugged my hand away from her and collapsed onto the bed.

I licked the sweetness from my fingers and asked her, "Do you feel pretty now?" Her voice hadn't come back to her yet, but she hugged me hard and rocked me back and forth.

After a while, we rolled over with Ginny stretched out on top of me, her head against my shoulder. Her long torso put my erection somewhere near her navel, her rear well out of reach. She started to say, "Oh my god..."

I broke in, saying "Call me Doug."

She laughed. "You must be a god to have done that to me. I didn't know it was possible."

"I didn't know it was possible for any woman to go on like that. Really, it's an honor to be part of that with you."

Ginny paused for a moment. "Um, Doug? Did you say you heard me... at night? You know,..."

"I did. You seem quite expressive at times. It was such a turn-on for me that I had to join in. You know, 'audience participation'."

"Oh shit, that's so embarrassing. If I had known you were listening..." If blushing had a sound, that would have been her.

"The walls are pretty thin in here. You were hard to miss."

"I'll try to be quieter."

"Don't put yourself out on my account. Or, if you want, join me and make all the noise you want." That earned me a punch in the shoulder.

"Perving on your sister."

"I was doing a lot more than listening a few minutes ago, and you didn't seem to mind."

"True enough." Another pause. "So what now?"

"Well, I had been trying to sleep when this beautiful woman snuck into my room and took advantage of me. We could go back to that."

"You mean, sleep with someone and actually sleep? I suppose it could work." She slid off me and cuddled into a ball, with my arm around her. I pulled the sheet over us and tried to relax. After her exertions, I heard her breathing come slow and even. I guess mine followed soon after.

------

I woke with the sheets off and Ginny on her side, looking at me. Well, looking at my penis. She stroked the length of it up and down, using just one fingertip. I saw a drop of pre-come form at the tip. She collected it with her finger and spread it along my erection. It seemed endlessly fascinating to her. I asked, "Having fun?"

"Yes, in fact. I've never really had a chance to play with one before. The other guys were always in a rush to get it in my mouth, or get it finished, or something. I feel like I'm making friends with this, not just jamming it somewhere."

"We have all day, and I'm in no rush. Or not much. I'll have to pee some time."

"Sorry about that. Go ahead."

"Not with this erection. You've got him standing at full attention."

"What do you mean?"

"It's sort of a dual use technology. When it's in recreational or procreational mode, the waste management function is locked out. From your standpoint, you might consider it a safety feature to prevent accidents."

She laughed. "We certainly don't want that kind of accident. I never knew that, though. The things no one ever tells a girl. Learning that kind of thing is all the more reason to spend time with the little guy. But if you have to go, let's take care of that."

"I'll go make coffee. Once I have my mind on something else, it should deflate pretty quickly."

"Okay. I'll wait here."

By the time I had water in the microwave and coffee in the big French press, I was ready for "waste management." The dishwasher load was clean, so I unloaded that while the coffee brewed. That done, coffee cups and I returned to the bedroom. I saw Ginny sitting up, legs folded, poking at something on her phone. She sipped her coffee, then set it aside and returned to her phone. I leaned back against the headboard warm cup in hand. "Anything interesting?" I asked.

"I think so." She turned the screen toward me and showed an anatomical diagram of boy bits. "I'd just like to see how close this is to a live specimen. Mind if I take a closer look?"

"I'm all yours, as long as you don't have vivisection in mind."

"Cripes, no. Just look. Maybe touch."

"Here you go." I raised my knees and spread my legs. Ginny crawled in front of me and lay down on the bed almost nose to nose with her 'specimen.' She set the phone down so she could check the picture against the reality. The day had already warmed, so my balls hung low and loose. She took my penis between thumb and forefinger and lifted it gently.

"It's kind of cute, when it's little like this." She looked at the underside and rubbed it with the back of her finger, then looked back at her phone. She scrolled, then looked back and forth between me and the book. Then she looked up at me and said, "Fordyce spots!" (I knew what she meant, and thought 'dick zits'.) Then she poked at the crease running lengthwise, connecting the head to the shaft. "Frenulum!" She had a big smile as she said it, as if she were the one to discover each part.

"Yup, that's them." I went back to sipping my coffee and watching Gin. She was obviously enjoying the exercise.

She shifted her grip so her finger were underneath and her thumb above, and slid the outer skin back and forth. "I want to come back to this when it's erect. I think I can feel what's in the picture, but it should be easier when everything is bigger."

"I'm pretty sure I can arrange an erection. For science, of course."

She turned attention to my scrotum, and felt around just above my balls. She pinched the skin a few places, then hit something that I really felt. She looked up. "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Not really, just surprised me. You just found the vas deferens."

"That's what I thought." She moved on to a testicle. I braced myself for some discomfort, even though she was being gentle. "It's not really a ball. It's longer, like a pecan in its shell." She felt around some more, and yeah, it got a little uncomfortable. Once she referred back to her phone, she seemed satisfied, though.

"Could you stand up, Doug? Or just up on your knees."

I did as requested. Ginny looked up from her lying position and noted, "They don't hang evenly, do they?"

"Yup, that's pretty normal. In fact, you see the same thing on Michaelangelo's 'David' statue."

"Really? I'll see if I can find some pictures. Anyway, your scrotum is all loose and dangly, but sometimes it bunches up. Can I see that happen?"

"That's easy to arrange. Wait here, I'll be right back." I got out of bed and returned in a moment with a cold, wet washcloth and a towel. Ginny still lay on her stomach, so I spread the towel in front of her to catch drips. I crawled back into bed and stood up on my knees in front of her, knees wide apart.

"It all pulls in when it gets cold. Here, wipe my scrotum with this." Not real comfortable for me, but I'd live.

She spread the cold washcloth across her hand and reached behind my balls, as if to pull them toward her. Damn, that was cold! But it worked as intended, and the transformation fascinated her. Once everything was tightened up, Gin ran a fingernail down that seam in the middle. "Raphe" she said, as a two-syllable word. She'd done her homework. Scraping fingernails, soft pinches, and gentle tugs explored my shrunken scrotum.

"It feels nice when you do that. In fact the whole scrotum feels good when it's tight like this and you play with it." Gin set the washcloth aside and stroked it with her whole hand. Then she cupped it in her hand and stroked my penis with her thumb.

"Mmm, nice. You wanted an erection, right? Just keep doing that."

Ginny rolled over on her back, looking up between my legs. That let her use both hands, on my balls and one on my penis. She had the desired erection in no time. "That was quick. Does it always come up that fast?"

"It depends on the kind of stimulation. If it's mild enough, I could stay half-hard for hours."

Gin got up to a sitting position in front of me and leaned down toward my penis. She held it with her thumb underneath and fingers on top, then applied slight pressure. The skin slid along the shaft as she stroked it, and pulled a clear drop out the tip when she pulled toward herself. She smiled, then reached out with the tip of her tongue and licked it.

While she was still holding it, I added, "By the way, there's something about it you might not have noticed."

"That looks pretty noticeable from here."

"I mean, only about half the erection is outside."

"Oh?"

I took it from her and pressed it up against my stomach. "Press the underside with your fingers. You can feel how stiff it is."

"Okay. So...""

"So keep pressing, and run your fingers down it." Ginny looked dubious but did as I asked, then stopped at my scrotum. "Keep going, down between my balls." She did, with sort of a surprised look. "Keep going, all the way down." She did, down almost to the anus. At that, she changed her touch to thumb and forefinger, feeling the width of it. She worked her way back up, careful around my balls, to the part that stands out.

"Ever see how much of a phone pole is buried underground? That's what keeps the pole upright." She ran a firm touch up and down the whole length of it a few times. "Same thing with that. And it feels nice when you rub it like that."

"I had no idea. It makes perfect sense, the thing couldn't just be stuck on and hold its position like that, but I never thought about it."

"So, did you find out what you wanted?"

"Oh, yes, and more" She sat back and patted the mattress next to her as she lay back down. I took that as an invitation and laid down next to her. "Thanks, Doug. I feel a lot more comfortable with it, knowing more about what I'm playing with." She said the words as she reached down to play with it.

"Any time. I'm glad I could help."

"I read abut the prostate, too, but that seemed like a bit much."

"Maybe another time." I left the invitation open. There are some intense sensations to be had there, but she didn't seem ready for butt play. I wasn't sure I was, either.

She watched as she fondled me, catching the occasional drip and spreading it around the crown. Gin looked at that, not at my face, as she said, "Doug, you've been really great, about last night and then letting me look."

"Anything for my little sister. It looked like something was really bothering you last night, and maybe I helped. And now, having a gorgeous woman playing with me -- what's not to like?"

"But I've been a bit of a pillow princess, haven't I?"

"That's not how I see it. I..."

She cut me off. "You did all that for me and I haven't done anything for you."

"More than you can imagine, Gin. Being with you, kissing you, feeling you come in my arms, that was a lot. And, if I remember right, your hand gave you that orgasm, not mine."

"Your fingers in me did a lot too, but will you just stop arguing with me? I want to do something nice for you, maybe a lot of somethings. Maybe feel you come in my arms." That shut me up. "Now lie down and relax. On your stomach, please."

I did as she asked, and she straddled me as I had done with her. Maybe I could feel her bush on my back, where her weight rested on me; maybe I just imagined that. Just knowing her nakedness was on me pumped my erection back to 100%. And feeling her thumbs dig into my shoulder muscles practically melted me. She worked her way down my back as I had down hers, but massaging instead of kissing.

Ginny had gotten just below my shoulder blades when I asked. "Uh Ginny, about last night."

"Mmm..." An ambiguous invitation to go on.

"You asked me to make you feel pretty. I had no idea what you meant, but I tried. What was going on?"

"Doug, you succeeded beyond my most heated teenage imaginings. You left me well loved and totally fucked out, without even fucking. And later I realized, you had given me the answer I wanted. It just wasn't an answer to the question I asked."

"I'm looking forward to following this."

"The lousy dating world at school and a few comments people made, sometimes when they thought I couldn't hear, well, they got to me. I still kept trying to look sure of myself, but that was just a look. By the time I got here, I was getting desperate for some kind of affirmation, from someone I could trust. I gravitated to you without thinking, but I later saw that I don't know anyone else I could have trusted." Deep pressure in the small of my back had me moaning. "And you did a lot more than make me feel pretty -- attractive, rather, which is better than pretty. You know how hard it is to see the obvious? Well that was me. Something finally clicked that I never much cared to be pretty. I rarely use makeup and don't use it very well. I just bought my first heels last year and nearly broke my ankle the one time I tried going out in them. I think I look food enough in short hair, but it's short because long hair takes up so much time. I'm smart enough to get good grades in engineering school, I know my way around a workbench, and I cook better than most of my friends. I enjoy lots of things, and don't need to be pretty for any of them. If someone doesn't find that interesting, then they're not interested in me. You were genuinely attracted to me, pretty or not."

She paused for a moment. "And I have a sexual response like nothing I ever heard of. Maybe I should be sharing my nightlies with you, since that's what I'm doing already." She had gotten down to my glutes by that point, and I was helpless.

Addressing the ongoing noises from the back of my throat, she changed the subject. "You like this part, don't you? I do too, not just when you do it to me."

"Oh, yeah."

"So what do you think?"

"It's a lot to take in, but it sounds like you found what you needed to know. And it sounds a lot simpler than what you wanted." I skirted the issue of 'sharing nightlies.'

Time to flip over, Doug." It took me a moment to summon the energy.

Ginny straddled my legs. She poked my fat, full erection to see it bounce. "You're enjoying this, I see. If you want to play with it, like I did, that's fine by me." I accepted her invitation and took it in hand. Gin moved up to the head of the bed, behind me, and said "Scoot down, will you? I'd like to start up here." I slid down and resumed my slow jacking. Ginny rubbed fingertips around my scalp, then used wide strokes at the back of my neck. Muscles along my shoulders felt her strong, cool hands next. Then she leaned over to work my pecs.

That put her dangling breasts just about straight over my face. I opened my mouth and tried to take one in my mouth, but couldn't quite reach. Ginny saw that and leaned down. I felt her weight on my chest as she let her hands support her. One swaying nipple came within reach and I caught it between my lips. Gin closed her eyes and purred as my tongue swiped across it. Then she surprised me. Using both hands, she pinched my nipples too.

"I thought so. Your nipples are tiny and cute compared to mine, but have all the same feelings in them, right?"

"Mmm," I answered with a happy sigh. It was the best I could do with my mouth full. She tugged and stroked them for a moment, then leaned back up, taking her nipple with her. I continued stroking as she knee-walked around to my side. Her new position let her cup my balls in her hand as she leaned down to kiss my nipple.

It was like a wire running through me, from her hand to her mouth. My stroking took on urgency, and I tugged at my other nipple with my free hand. I let go of my erection long enough to wet my hand with saliva. That let me smear slick pre-come all around, and the slickness took my masturbation up a notch. That warm hand on my balls held and caressed, and I felt a scrape of teeth as she continued kissing my chest.

My hips rocked, then lifted off the bed. White blobs painted my chest at the first burst. I bucked again, and shot another jet up my stomach. Two or three more squirts finished my ejaculation. My hips still bucked, though, and Ginny still worked my balls and my chest. She didn't let go until I lowered my hips to the bed and relaxed, limp all over. Have you ever had a lover stop what she was doing at the first sign of ejaculation? Gin's continued attention made it so much better. She sat up, still holding my scrotum, and stroked my sticky penis with her thumb. Her other hand brushed some hair off my face as she smiled down at me. Still holding, she wiped a blob of semen off my chest and lifted her finger to study it. She sniffed it, then tasted it. I reached for some tissues to clean up with.

Ginny stopped me and said "Let me clean you up." She found the forgotten washcloth and wiped me clean. Then she tugged the towel out from under me. She used that to dry me, then wadded it around the washcloth and tossed the bundle aside.

After last night and the long build-up today, that orgasm took everything out of me. I was at such an animal level that I couldn't think to speak. I just reached up to that long, strong goddess. She lay down next to me, molded herself to me, and warmed my crotch again with her hand. "That was beautiful. You were beautiful. I've helped guys come a few times, but never saw anything like that. You rest now." I had little choice, it was about all I could do.

"I'll want you strong and ready soon."

Even sharing an apartment, I didn't see much of Ginny for the next few days. Her shift at that big store ran til nine most nights. If a big shipment came in, she'd get a few hours of overtime helping to unload. That meant she was in late. I was in bed early and up early most days that week, for meetings with the teams in Israel and India. As a result, our schedules didn't overlap much.

I had hoped there would be more of the previous weekend's intimacy, but I was starting to think it was just a one-time thing. Which sucked, because Ginny was fantastic in bed, on top of being beautiful, smart, and all the other things I hope for in a woman.

It did give me time to work on a personal challenge. As much as I liked that site with all the amateur porn stories, most of them were pretty bad. The challenge to myself was to prove I could do better. Coming up with a good story and telling it well turned out to be harder than I thought. By Friday, though, I had a draft that I hadn't torn up.

The bigger thing on my mind that night was spending some time with Ginny. I ate a small snack early, but timed supper to be ready when Ginny got home. I made lasagna, enough for plenty of leftovers, garlic bread with lots of garlic and butter, and a salad. I poured a glass of wine and went over my story yet again while I waited for her to come home.

A while later, I heard the front door rattle. "Hi Doug!" It was Ginny, and she sounded in a good mood.

"Hi Gin. Hungry? It's lasagna tonight."

"Mmm. Sounds good. Thanks, by the way, for the dinners you've been leaving. I'm pretty tired most nights, and I appreciate having something ready for me."

"Any thing for my little sister."

I started to fold my laptop, but Ginny asked, "Whatcha doing? Anything interesting?"

I wasn't sure how to answer. "Just reading. It's an idea I've been thinking about."

"Something I might like?"

"Let's eat first."

I filled Ginny's wine glass and refilled mine, and we sat to eat. That late, we were both hungry, so there wasn't much conversation. Ginny opened the garlic bread and broke off a slice. "Oh, yeah, just the way I like it. Equal parts garlic and bread."

I laughed, "Not quite, but I get tired of wimpy garlic bread. That loaf has a whole head of garlic in it."

"I'm just glad you're not someone else's brother."

After a while, we both just stared at the remaining food, trying to decide whether we wanted any more. I decided no, and stood up. I also decided to let Ginny read my story. I wasn't completely sure it was a good idea, but what the heck. "Gin, you wanted to read that story I was working on?"

"Story? Since when do you write stories?"

"Read it first, then I'll tell you about it."

I broke my own rule, the cook doesn't clean, while Ginny read. Every now and then, she'd look up at me with an odd look, then go back to reading. I had almost cleared the table when she sat back and looked at me. Nervous, I asked, "So what do you think?"

"I think it's about the hottest thing I ever read. You wrote that by yourself? You did a convincing job with the first person woman's voice. I mean, I might have acted differently, but it's very believable."

"Thanks. I wasn't sure about that."

"But why a woman's point of view? And why the story at all?"

"It's just the way the story came to me. Once I had the scene in mind, she pretty much told me what to write."

"Okay, but why? Oh, and you cooked. That means I clean up."

I sat down told her about that web site, the one full of stories by would-be porn writers, and the 'put up or shut up' challenge I has set myself. She bustled around, putting things away and loading the dishwasher. "I have to check out that web site. Just not now, I'm beat."

"Me too." I closed the editor and shut the laptop. Ginny headed to her room while I put my laptop and some work stuff away and started turning out the lights.

Ginny stuck her head out of her room and asked, "Have you been listening in on my nightlies?" She meant her end of day masturbation. It shocked her when I told her I could hear her through the wall, and shocked her more when I said I was doing the same, listening to her. The shock wore off quickly, though, especially with everything else we'd done.

"Not this week. I've had all those early meetings, so I was usually asleep before you got home."

"Tonight you don't have to listen through the wall, if you don't want to."

"I'll be there in a minute, I think I'm over-dressed for the occasion."

"No rush. I have to brush my teeth anyway."

I went to my room and stripped. I already had a full, fat erection when I joined Ginny in the bathroom. I stood next to her and got my own toothbrush ready. She had a mouthful of toothpaste, but reached over and took hold of my erection. We looked at each other in the big mirror over the sink, and she started moving back and forth along the shaft in her hand. She finished first, rinsed her mouth, and said, "It's not nice to keep a lady waiting."

By the time I got to her room, she was already sitting up against the wall. Her pants sat on the bed next to her, shirt open, knees up and wide/ My erection bounced at the sight. She was already stroking around the sides of her labia, warming up. I knelt on the bed across from her. That put a lot of space between my legs, and I started in too. We each played with ourselves, gently as we were just getting started, and watched each other closely. I don't know about her, but I treated this as a chance to see how she liked to be touched.

She treated is as a chance to talk. "The way you wrote that story, you have some inner woman telling you things?" Ginny's fingers ran up and down between her labia, opening them. It looked like she pulled some slickness from her vagina and spread it around.

"I wouldn't say that. It's more that I try to pay attention to my partner, to find out what she likes. I listen to the sounds she makes, what she asks for, what her body does. I just sort of rummaged around my memories of different partners and found pieces that fit together." I was doing something similar with my erection. I pulled the slick pre-come from the tip of my penis, milked another few drops out, and spread it all the way around.

"I think I get it. I've seen the way you pay attention to me. It's a pleasant surprise, after so many guys so wrapped up in themselves."

I was getting more wrapped up in myself as we wanked together, so didn't have much of an answer. I used my free hand to cup my balls, a warm bit of extra pressure. Ginny went two-handed, too. Fingers of one hand put pressure in wide circles over her clit. Fingers of the other reached deep into her vagina, so deep that the rest of her hand flattened her labia near the entrance. I let go for a moment to grab a tissue and spread it on the bed in front of me -- I was getting close. Ginny's open-mouthed expression and deep panting said she was getting close, too. She trembled on the edge of orgasm; I thrust hard into my own hand. Then it came. I managed to aim at the tissue, sending wad after wad of semen onto it. Ginny started getting vocal at that point. She threw her head back, and I could see each wave of tension take her whole body. I finished long before her, and milked the last few drops of my ejaculation onto the tissue. She went on and on, but wound down eventually. The moment came when her whole body relaxed and she slumped back. The hand on her clit moved up to brush some sweat off her face, but the fingers inside stayed where they were.

I spoke first. "Wow. I can't believe what I've been missing. Is that how all your nightlies go?"

Still panting, Ginny answered, "This was a big one. Seeing you in front of me like that, watching, that made you part of it. Just being there with me made it bigger. And seeing you come for me, that pushed me over the edge. So much came out of you."

"It's been building up for a few days."

She reached for her pants at that point; I looked for a garbage can for the wad of tissue. The 'nightly' was over. "Stay with me, Doug. Please?"

How could I resist? We arranged ourselves spoon style. It was a bit odd, being the outside spoon with someone so much taller than me. I snuggled her shoulder, though, and filled my hand with a breast. An erection started again, between her cheeks, but never got past a comfortable half full.

That's how we slept.

-----

The summer sun started early, so the room was quite bright when I woke up. Ginny sat on the bed next to me, stroking my penis with the back of her finger, watching it fill. "Just saying 'hi' to my friend. I think he woke up just before you did."

I put an arm behind my head, propping it up to see her and her play better. "Don't let me interrupt, you two seemed to be having such a good time."

She kept up the gentle stroking, plenty to fill an erection but not enough to get me going for real. "I was just saying 'hi'. Maybe we can play later. You and I had plans for today, right?"

"Get some groceries, you wanted another book case, maybe see that movie you were talking about. Nothing earth-shattering."

"Sounds good to me. Sounds even better after some French toast."

"That's what I smelled, no wonder I'm hungry. Let me get dressed and I'll be right with you."

Ginny stood up and unbuttoned her pajama shirt. "How about getting dressed after breakfast, and maybe a shower." She tossed the shirt onto the bed and started pushing her pants down. God, my sister is gorgeous. I followed her to the table. She already had everything ready, including a big mug of coffee for each of us. Putting a napkin in my lap was sort of silly. It just tented and a wet spot started to seep through. Ginny was sitting next to me and saw what happened. She just smiled and transferred two pieces of French toast to her plate. I did too, and saw that she had put my favorites on the table. French toast with peanut butter and maple syrup -- don't knock it til you've tried it.

Ginny's boobs aren't big; they're the kind that won't end up in her lap in a few years. They're soft, though, and bobbed and shifted as she moved. They jiggled even just sitting still and eating. We talked about little things, the shopping list, anything else when we get the extra book case at Ikea. She cooked, so I collected the plates and put food away when we finished. I saw Ginny head for the bathroom, so I went to get dressed. Before I got to my room, she looked over her shoulder and asked, "Shower?"

"I'll soap your back."

"Best offer I've had all day."

We mostly just cleaned up with only a little play. I dried that bit of her back that's hard to reach and she did mine. Once the towels were put back, we each went to get dressed. Jeans and tee shirt for me. I'd get my sneakers on the way out the door. Ginny had her "doing chores" clothes on: jeans, sport bra, and button-down shirt, mostly open. I swear she could make a horse blanket look good. Ikea first, so we wouldn't be leaving groceries in the hot car. The drive took about a half hour, so we talked. I had gotten used to the openness between us, but still felt nervous asking, "The other day you seemed unhappy about being a virgin. What..."

She broke in, "I was mostly whinging at that point. I had so many things on my mind that even the little stuff seemed big at the time. No, I haven't fucked anyone yet. That's fine. I hear so many people tell horror stories about their first, usually as teenagers. The problems seem to come down to picking the wrong time, picking the wrong reason, or picking the wrong guy. Or all three. And pretty much every teenage boy is the wrong guy. I can do better than that. They expect it to hurt, so they don't do anything to make it not hurt, and then they hurt up to expectations. The boy expects to hurt her also, and that can put a nasty edge on things. Too, a lot seem to have treated their first as a chore to be done with, just a virginity to get out of the way. I want it to be an occasion. Maybe not a big occasion, and maybe I'd even keep the fact of it to myself, instead of dealing with that 'you mean I'm your first' bullshit I've heard about. As you've noticed, there's more than one way to have a happy sex life. I'm just tired of people thinking there's something wrong with me, having to explain, and not being believed."

Her voice and the look in her eyes said she was more than ordinarily tired -- the kind of tired after a years-long siege, one that still goes on and may never end.

In a cheerier tone, "If it's just Bob inside of me, I'm okay with that."

That got me confused. "Who's Bob?"

"Battery Operated Boyfriend. Remember that box I didn't want you to open? My toys were in there. Maybe you'll see some if we do more nightlies."

Wow. The possibilities there.

She went on. "Speaking of toys, that woman in your story did something to that guy."

"You mean the Aneros?"

"That's it. It went in his butt, right? What is it?"

"It's a prostate massager. A lot of guys get some special kinds of feelings when it's massaged."

"So I've heard -- massaged up in his rear. Your story offered a fair bit of detail. Have you used one?"

"I have one, and use it occasionally."

"Ooh, you have toys, too! Was it real, that part about keeping it in all afternoon?"

"Oh, yes. It's sort of a long, slow tease. Then leaving it in for the finish really adds something."

Ginny paused for a moment, then added. "Interesting." She seemed lost in thought for a while after that.

We already knew what we wanted at Ikea, so the stop was lots shorter than the trip to and from. Instead of one book case, we got two. Mine tend to fill up regularly, and the current ones were looking over-full. My current project had me relearning a lot of stats and learning some new stuff. I had heard of"resampling" so looked for books on it. By chance, I picked the book by the founder of the field. True to form, I found original sources to be the best. Heisenberg and Goedel, among others, had already shown me that. Nothing specific in that text solved my problem, but the basic ideas opened a lot of possibilities. (Oh, gawd, I'm sorry. I can be such a nerd when I get excited about something. The fact that Ginny's just as bad only makes us both worse together.)

The trip home was quieter than the trip out. Ginny seemed far away in thought, and I knew better than to drag her back. Groceries were mostly produce, fruits and veg. I put things away while Ginny set up the book cases. Lunch was bits and scraps of whatever was left over. Our leftovers tend to be pretty good, and go together in new ways. This wasn't a hardship. We planned to take it easy the rest of the day: a matinee, dinner out, and cocooning at home. Lunch had been cleaned up, but we still had time before the movie.

Out of nowhere, Ginny said, "You know what you said about that long, slow tease? I have a toy like that, too." She looked down just after she said that. "What if we each use our long, slow tease toys this afternoon?"

My front jumped when I understood what she was suggesting. "You know what mine is. What's yours?"

She looked back up at me after my positive response. "Ever hear of ben wa balls? I have some."

"I've read different things about them. You like them?"

"If I'm in the right mood. Like now. Would you put them in for me?"

How did my little sister ever turn into such a sensual marvel. "I'm all yours. Just show me what you want."

"And can I put yours in you?"

That really pushed things up a notch, I must have paused for a moment, because she started babbling. "I mean, only if you want, I don't have to if..."

I plugged her stream of words with a finger to her lips. "Sure you can, in my bum. You do me first, then I do you -- how does that sound? I think we should get undressed for this."

"Uh, okay. Go to your room and get ready. I'll be there in a minute."

Once I got to my room, I don't think I ever moved faster in my life. I fetched the Aneros and lube from the discreet place I kept them. Those and a box of tissues (the lube gets all over) went on the bed. I practically sprayed my clothing around the room. Then I got down on knees and elbows on the bed, next to the toy and stuff, presenting my rear to the door.

Mt sister opened my door a moment later, wearing her majestic height and her terry robe. The calf-length robe on her was barely knee length, and her slim, strong legs stretched out below that. She looked at me, then at the extras on the bed, and almost chirped a sound of surprise. She nibbled her lower lip as she came over and examined the display. I saw her pick up the toy and turn it around. She even stretched a finger full length next to it, for comparison. Still on knees and elbows, I looked back and said, "Bulgy side goes toward the front. Use lots of lube, and take it slow."

I looked over my shoulder as Ginny reached a finger toward me. I couldn't see, but I felt her touch my perineum, and stroke down toward my balls. Then I saw her pick up the lube. She put one hand on my rear to open it up, then touched the toy to my anus. I flinched, and said, "Cold. You're doing fine, keep going." Her face showed concentration as she touched again, then started to push. It twisted at the entrance to my body and started to open me up. Ginny took it away for more lube, then pressed it to me again. I tried to relax, and felt it open and enter me another few millimeters. "That's it, one step at a time." More lube, then try again. Soon, the widest part of the toy held me open. The next blob of lube went directly onto my crack, just above where the toy would go. Ginny still looked at my rear intently, but with a glimmer of a smile. I felt her wipe the toy in the lube, put her free hand on my rear again, and push. I panted as it invaded me, then my breath froze as the widest part reached the inner gate. One more push, and it slid the rest of the way in by itself. The tip of the toy found my prostate. Breath left me in a rush, and I slumped forward.

Ginny's hand felt warm on my rear as she asked, "How's that? Is it in right?"

Still butt up and face down, my inner muscles flexed around it, and shifted its touch on that inner gland. It always take me a moment to get used to it. "Perfect, better than the first time I tried it on myself. You were a lot more gentle and careful than I was."

She used a tissue to clean her finger, then wiped the extra lube off my rear. "Doug, I... I've never done anything like that before. I've put toys in me plenty of times, but never thought about putting something into a guy. It's kind of a responsibility."

Ginny flicked the handle on the toy and watched me squirm. Tug and push, twist and shift, small motions had big effect. I groaned and closed my eyes as she played. "Doug, if you use this again while I'm here, I want be with you. Is that okay?"

"It's a deal. Having another person, having you involved makes it a whole new experience. Is there any extra lube back there?"

Ginny picked up a tissue and wiped a few spots. "There. I think you're all set. Now you have something to do for me."

We both got up and I followed her into her room. She had a towel spread out on her bed, with some lube and an unfamiliar toy next to it. It might have been eight centimeters long, sort of a figure-8 shape, with the two rounded ends about three centimeters at their widest. A string hung off one end, to make recovery easy. Its weight surprised me when I picked it up, and the weight rattling around inside surprised me again. I looked at Ginny and asked, "You can feel this bumping around inside you?"

"A little, not much, but it never stops as long as I keep moving."

"Mine is like that, too, but I still feel it even when I don't move."

"I can tell. Your penis is big and floppy. Is that a drip coming out of you?"

I looked down as she reached for it. "That's what it does to me. About a third of an erection and oozing, the whole time it's in."