My sister Beth and I grew up on a farm in Indiana. Living out in the country was pretty much a dull and restricted sort of life for teenagers. Since we had to ride the school bus, we had no opportunity to participate in extracurricular school activities--it was off to school in the morning and back home right school was out. This schedule cut down on our opportunities for dating, too, since it gave neither of us much chance to develop any kind of serious friendships or romantic relations with others our age. This wasn't that much of a problem to me--I was shy around girls, and being tall and skinny without much in the way of redeeming good looks, I probably would have had a hard time getting dates anyway. Sis, though, was different. She was pretty. Well, in fact, she was more than pretty, she was downright beautiful. Petite at five-foot-two and 100 pounds, with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a figure that could have easily gotten her elected to cheerleader, Beth could have had almost any boy in school if she had the opportunity and set her mind to it.
Beth and I never played "doctor" or "you-show-me-yours-and- I'll-show-you-mine" games. Oh, we sometimes talked about sex, but we never went beyond that point. Our parents were very strict, and discussion or mention of sexual subjects was a family taboo. That home atmosphere, together with a natural shyness we both seemed to have, prevented us from any type of overt sexual exploration with each other.
This is not to say I wasn't interested in sex, because I was. The truth was that I stayed horny most of the time. Since I had no opportunities to get rid of my horniness by dating and having sex with girls, I relieved myself by masturbation. Invariably, it was Beth I fantasized about when beating off. Even though I had never seen Beth nude, I had seen her in a bathing suit down at the creek and in shorts and halter around the house, so I could develop good mental pictures of what a naked Beth might look like. These pictures filled my mind as I played my solitary sexual games.
One day, though, when I was sixteen and Beth fifteen, I decided the mental pictures were not enough--I wanted to see in real life what Beth looked like without any clothes. Since Beth never went around the house unclothed, I could do this only by peeking through the keyhole in the bathroom when she was taking a shower. One evening our parents were out in the barn when Beth went into the bathroom and I decided to take advantage of the opportunity. I waited until the shower started running and then went and stooped by the door and looked through the keyhole. One of the floor boards outside the bathroom squeaked loudly when I stepped on it and I hoped Beth didn't hear it. Apparently she didn't because she began to take the towel from around her body. Just one second more and I would be able to see Beth's lovely body. That second didn't come, though, because Dad shouted at me at just this time--yelling and raising hell all over the place. Dad had come into the house without my hearing and caught me in the act of playing Peeping Tom.
Both my parents shamed me in front of Beth and threatened a severe beating if I ever pulled a stunt like that again. This absolutely and completely embarrassed me, and I was almost afraid to look Beth in the eye. She never mentioned it, though, and acted as if everything were okay. Not once, in later life was the subject ever brought up. Not once, either, did I ever try again to peep at Beth.
Beth and I both finished growing up. I went to college and so did Beth. After we finished college, I got a job in Los Angeles and Beth in Philadelphia. We saw each other only on visits back to the farm, and gradually we drifted apart, with occasional letters being our only contact.
Neither of us married. I don't know what reason Beth had for staying single, but my reason was shyness around girls and a rather plain appearance. Also, in my mind the ideal girl was one just like Beth, and I could never find a girl that measured up to her standards. We may have no longer been close to each other, but Beth was still very much in my mind. In my pleasure fantasies, it was still Beth I pictured. She was my standard for female perfection and was the subject of all my masturbatory dreams. I continued to keep a big-as- life picture in my mind of how she would have looked if I had been able to see her drop that towel those years before.
Mom and Dad were killed in a car accident, and Beth and I buried them in a cemetery near the farm. We didn't want to sell the farm house because it held so many warm memories for us, so we kept the house and several acres around it and sold the rest of the farm. The property had substantially accrued in value, and we each got a good sum of money from its sale.
Beth had been writing on a part-time basis and was pretty good at it, having sold several magazine articles. She decided that the money from the property sale would give her the independence to quit her job and take up writing full- time. She also decided that the farm house would be an ideal place for her to live while pursuing this career. This would be a good arrangement for both of us--the house would be occupied and maintained Beth would have a comfortable place to live. She offered to pay me rent on my half of the house, but I laughed her out of the idea, promising to make up for it by coming to visit her often enough to lay claim to my portion.
Several months passed without our seeing each other. We wrote often, though, our friendship being renewed by our recent mutual experiences. In every letter she invited me to come visit, but my schedule never seemed to allow it. Finally, though, I got a breather in my work and decided to take some vacation--two whole weeks to go back home to the farm, laze around, and visit with Beth.
I arrived at the farm on a Saturday afternoon. It was an exceptionally warm May day, with the sun beating down and the temperature in the high 80s. When I drove up, Beth was out working in her garden. She had her back turned to me when I first got there and was bending over some plants. All she had on was a pair of brief running shorts and a halter that was little more than a skimpy bra. I was presented with a picture of the most stunning female backside I could ever recall seeing. Beth's square shoulders sloped downward to a narrow waist and then curved out into perfect round, firm buttocks. She was still a sylph of a girl, as petite and well-shaped as she was when we were in high school. The only way she might have changed was in her breasts: they seemed even larger and more full than they were then. <And why not, she was a more mature woman than she was then, and her body would have grown even more mature> I thought to myself.
Seeing her like that flooded my mind with memories of our teenage years together. She was still as beautiful as she was then, was still the perfect specimen of femininity. All my fantasies came rushing back to me and caused my face to flush in embarrassment at myself. <Jimmy, just because you're a thirty-four-year-old virgin doesn't give you license to lust after your sister> I thought angrily to myself.
These thoughts were quickly swept away, though. Beth had heard me drive in and stood up and turned to me. <It just isn't fair for a guy to have a sister as beautiful as Beth> I ruefully told myself. And beautiful she was. Still no more than 100 pounds, with hair pulled back into a pony tail, shorts clinging tightly to her flaring hips, and a fair amount of cleavage showing above her well-filled halter, she could have passed for a teenager.
When Beth saw it was me, she smiled and gave little pleased laugh. She rushed out of the garden and ran up to where I was standing by the car. At almost a dead run, she ran into my arms, pushing me back against the car. She put her arms around my neck and hugged me tightly. With her pushing me against the car, I could feel her breasts against my chest and her hips pressing against mine. My reaction was immediate--almost instantaneously my cock swelled and filled the front of my pants. <My God, what if she notices! She will think I'm some sort of a pervert, getting a hard-on with his own sister> I thought.
She pulled back and gave me light kiss on the lips. "Jimmy, Jimmy," she murmured, "you've finally come to give your lonesome little sister a visit. But just look at me! I wasn't expecting you until later, and here I am in my work clothes, covered with dirt and sweat."
"Beth, you still look good, no matter what you wear," I said softly. <And does she ever!> I thought, noticing the way her nipples made little points in the front of her halter.
"Jimmy, you're still just as sweet ever," she said, her face flushing slightly. "But let's not stand out here in this heat. Get your stuff and come on into the house where it's cool."
I opened the car trunk, lifted out my suitcases, and followed Beth into the house. With her only a few steps ahead of me, I couldn't help but notice her shapely behind. Each buttock was firm and made little tick-tocking movements in her shorts as she walked. Her legs were tanned and had very good muscle tone. I decided that she must do a lot of gardening and other outdoor activities to keep herself in such good shape.
"You're going to use your old room," Beth said. "I kept my old room and converted Mom and Dad's room to my writing studio. Come on, I'll help you unpack."
.... There is more of this story ...