Underneath? Well, she never wears a bra around the house. And her panties leave nothing to hide, if she’s even wearing any. More than once, I’ve come downstairs to find her bent over in the floor looking for something in the bottom cabinets or reaching up on her tip toes for something in the top cabinet.
She would sometimes catch me looking, usually with a grin on my face.
“What?” she would feign surprise. “Have you never seen a woman’s bare butt before?”
I would turn red and mumble something about her ass in particular, which would make her smile and draw her to me. She loved kissing me on the head from behind, her tits pressed against my back.
She has a perfect ass and a shaved pussy. And from the times she’s shown me through the years, whether educating me or just letting me watch her in the shower, I’m more than familiar with her perfectly shaped tits, about 34C, with pink puffy nipples.
Jen has a body to die for.
I would think about it after I went back to school, driving across town in the mornings with a raging hardon. My routine was boring. Classes in the morning, gym workouts after lunch, throwing batting practice in the afternoon then back home for dinner.
But then the Omicron variant ended everything.
Anyway, since I’ve come home over a winter break that’s extended because Covid has rearranged everything, we’ve become closer. And since she’s become depressed or blue or whatever she is, I’ve become concerned.
So I made the decision to address the situation. Maybe not directly but casually. I wanted to surprise her with something. And then it hit me.
Valentine’s Day.
It was coming up, and it didn’t look like I was going to be playing baseball before the end of February at least, so I’d settled into a routine with a lot of time on my hands. I needed something to do, something to look forward to. And so did Jen.
I decided that on February 14, I would throw a party for the two of us, maybe get her drunk, get her to lighten up, maybe even convince her to quit that stupid job and live the life she wants to live.
The best-laid plans of, well, Horned Frogs and teenagers.
————————————–
Jen taught me everything growing up. And I mean everything.
She taught me how to dress, how to carry myself in public, how to look a person in the eye when speaking and, especially, listening. She taught me how to have conversations with beautiful girls, which is something most guys are either afraid of or overcompensate.
“The prettiest girls don’t get many dates,” she said. “Use that to your advantage.”
But the most important thing she taught me was how to appreciate a woman’s body. And just this past summer, she showed me.
It was a hot night, and she’d been to a party of some sort. I’d come home from somewhere, probably a night out drinking with my baseball buddies, and was sitting in the kitchen all hot and sweaty drinking a beer.
She came in the back door, wobbling a little on her heels, dressed in a little black dress with nothing underneath.
“Oh,” she said. “I thought you were out for the night.”
“I came home early,” I said. “Jen, you look incredible. Why aren’t you in the back seat of some guy’s car right now?”
She laughed and walked behind me, kissing me on the head, brushing her tits up and down my back as her hands slid all over my chest and stomach.
“Men are idiots,” she whispered in my ear.
“What happened?”
“Well,” she said, “let’s just say if a woman in a little black dressed can’t get laid in this city, there’s something wrong.”
I leaned back against her and let her hands wander, feeling her breath in my ear. I moaned quietly and she slid her hand down to my bulge then whispering in a hot hiss.
“Fuck me, Mal.”
Her tongue slid into my ear as she massaged my cock in my pants. The harder I got, the more she whispered dirty thoughts.
“I want your cock inside me.”
“You’re finally going to fuck your sister.”
“I’m not wearing any panties.”
Just when I was about to cum in my pants, she slipped away, staggering barefoot up the stairs. I heard her throw her heels on her bedroom floor. By the time I made it to her room, she was passed out.
I stood there and stared, her legs apart, her little black dress completely pulled up to her waist. Her soaked pussy glistening. I smiled and leaned down to kiss her.
“G’night Jen,” I whispered.
She stirred as I pulled a blanket over her and turned off her light.
The next morning, she was up before I was, wearing a Beatles t-shirt with nothing under it, sitting at the glass table, stirring her coffee, her hair tousled, her eyes closed.
“Morning Sis!” I said, walking into the kitchen.
“Ummmmm, Mal,” she groaned. “Did something happen last night?”
I leaned down and kissed her on the head.
“No Jen. You got drunk, you got stood up and you passed out on your bed.”
She exhaled heavily.
“I had a dream you were in my bed,” she said wearily.
“That wasn’t a dream,” I said, massaging her shoulders. “But nothing happened. Scout’s honor.”
She chuckled.
“You weren’t a Scout.”
“No,” I said, “but I am honorable.”
“To a fault,” she said. “Did I want you to fuck me?”
I poured a cup of coffee and sat down across from her. She was limp. Her legs were wide open under the glass table.
“Jen, I’ve wanted to fuck you my entire life, and I would’ve fucked you last night,” I said, reaching out and taking her hand. “But I’m glad I didn’t. I would want you to remember it.”
She finally lifted her head and looked at me, closing her legs and smiling as she cocked her head to one side.
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
I patted her hand and smiled back.
“Do you have any idea how sexy you look right now?”
She shook her head, and waved me off.
“Stop it,” she said. “You don’t mean that.”
“Oh, I do,” I said, stroking her hand, running a finger up the inside of her arm.
And then she was up, taking my half-empty coffee mug and hers to the sink, bouncing on her tip toes as she walked behind me, leaned down and nibbled on my ear.
“C’mon,” she whispered. “I need a shower. Care to join your sexy, hung-over sister?”
I didn’t answer. I just followed as she took her t-shirt off going up the stairs.
I was out of my clothes by the time I walked into the bathroom, where Jen was sitting on the toilet, peeing.
“Turn the water on,” she said, staring at my half-hard cock. “My God, when did you get that?”
I looked down at my cock, turning around with the shower running behind me, reaching down to lift her up, pee running down one of her legs. I kissed her on the mouth.
“I’ve grown,” I said, whispering in her ear and guiding her inside the shower.
She leaned both hands against the wall and let the hot water pour over her as I took a bar of soap and began to wash her body, lathering her from head to toe then taking the hand-held shower nozzle and rinsing her slowly, letting the water jets tickle and tease her.
“Mmmmmmmm,” she moaned, her eyes closed, her hands on my shoulders, her legs spread apart as I sprayed water inches from her pussy, watching her shudder, feeling goosebumps on her skin as she leaned her head back and squirmed,