I was fourteen when my mother and father divorced. Being an only child for most of my life had been something I'd come to appreciate. Seeing my friends and how they so often fought with their sisters or brothers gave me an even greater respect and thankfulness that I didn't have to go through all that.
I rarely saw my father after that as he'd moved to the East coast because of a new job, and I hated it whenever I'd gone for a visit. After a while it really didn't matter much to me anymore and I was perfectly content to live alone with my mother. It was only natural of course that after an appropriate amount of time that she started dating again.
That was never an issue for me either. I wasn't so self-centered that I didn't care about her happiness, or her sex-life, which even back then I assumed she wanted, so didn't mind it much when she finally began dating as it actually gave me more time to myself which over time I had again begun to appreciate.
And not that I was some kind of loner either, I had plenty of friends, even a few girl friends who on occasion would come over, especially when mother was out for the evening, giving me the opportunity to hone some basic skills in the make-out/petting department. So as far as I was concerned, I was happy with the status quo. The problem was, my mother wasn't.
I knew things were getting serious when she began dating Ken nearly every weekend. And not that I minded that either, as now I had most Fridays and Saturdays to do whatever I felt like doing, though still required to obey whatever curfews my mother had imposed on me, that or face the consequences of losing some of my extra ordinary privileges, especially at my age, and that I wasn't about to screw up as I was smart enough to know how good it was that I really had it.
In time, I learned a lot more about this guy as mom seemed to find it important enough for me to eventually get to know him better, so I had an inkling even then that things were proceeding along to what I felt would be an eventual union between them. I had also learned of course that Ken had a daughter who was my age. Her name was Kathy, whom I soon met when Ken and my mother decided to spend the day at a local amusement park, dragging the two of us along as well in an effort to have us meet in what they hoped would be a reasonably fun-filled day without too much awkwardness coming between us under the circumstances.
Almost immediately we began fighting like we actually were brother and sister. Kathy had no desire to ride the rides I wanted to, and I had no desire to go on most of the ones she did either. We ended up compromising, which as I saw it wasn't much of a compromise either, with me going off with Ken, and Kathy often going off with my mother for much of the time we spent there. Because of that, they didn't end up having much of a good time themselves either.
In a way, I felt bad for mom, like I said, I really did want her to be happy, and living alone even with me there wasn't the same thing. And I really did like Ken, I had no resentment towards him whatsoever, nor did it appear that Kathy had any towards my mother as they seemed to get well enough along whenever the four of us were thrown together for one reason or another.
The problem as I saw it was Kathy. And the problem as she saw it ... was me.
As expected in a fairly short period of time, mom and Ken decided to marry, what I hadn't expected or even really thought about wither, was that we'd end up moving into Ken's place as it was considerably bigger as well as nicer than where we lived, but that it would also necessitate me leaving most if not all of my friends behind. And worse, I was now forced to accept the fact I had a sister, even if she wasn't my real sister, who I already didn't get along with, and whose house I would soon be living in.
The only plus as I eventually came to accept, was the fact I had a much larger bedroom than I'd had previously, and was allowed to decorate (or not decorate) as I saw fit. Part of my mother and Ken's desire to make me feel more at ease and at home for giving up so much of what I felt I had lost perhaps, which for a time I took advantage of though looking back on it now, I came to feel guilty about for having done.
The one other good thing about it was that my room was fairly secluded downstairs near the den, whereas Kathy's room was upstairs across the hall from our parent's bedroom, so at least in this respect, I still had some privacy, though quite naturally still forced to share space in the den with Kathy whenever it came to watching TV, listening to music or trying to play a video game. It seemed that for whatever reason, she and I were always at odds over things like that which continued to remain so over the course of the next few years.
In time, we'd both learned to accept the situation as well as one another, so that we at least got along well enough to stay out of one another's ways, and even at times actually have some fun together. Even graduating from high school together was a big thing that our parents went out of their way for in celebrating, gifting us each a (used) but reasonably nice looking car as a graduation present.
I as yet hadn't made up my mind about continuing on with my education, even considering joining the service instead, though I had also decided to take that first summer off to think about my options, though working part-time in order to afford the use of my car, not to mention dating. Likewise, Kathy had chosen to do pretty much the same thing, and so it was we found ourselves with more time on our hands than we'd ever really had before that first summer, which is also when our entire relationship began to change in ways neither of us would ever have thought possible.
And don't get me wrong, though we sometimes fought like cats and dogs, Kathy was an attractive looking young woman, had she not been my step-sister, I might have even been attracted to her as a potential girlfriend, which now in hind-sight looking back, I probably already was, though I didn't see her as such simply because of the forced circumstances.
What I did notice whether I wanted to admit it to myself now or not, was that she had grown, changed over the years, and truly was very beautiful, something I had taken recent note of since my own girl friend and I had broken up, so I was once again alone and spending more time at home, growing increasingly bored with that as well. Kathy on the other hand seemed to have more boyfriends than she could shake a stick at, going out nearly every other night at least, and unlike me, not having to have to pay for doing it either, so she seemed to have more luxuries for herself than I could even begin to afford, part-time job or no.
I had noticed a day earlier that she had purchased a particular music CD that I'd been dying to get for myself, but needed to wait until payday before getting it. Normally, we'd both been respectful of one another's privacy, always knocking and being invited in to one another's rooms, and NEVER going into them without us being there. Under any other circumstances, I wouldn't have. But since I wanted to hear this CD before deciding to actually purchase it for myself, and knowing Kathy had it, the temptation not to enter her room, "borrow" it briefly and return it before she ever knew that I had was simply too tempting not to. I might have even asked her before hand, but she'd already gone out for the evening, and I didn't feel like wasting an entire day waiting to ask her. So it was that I broke an unspoken rule between us, and entered her bedroom without permission.
Surprisingly, her room was even messier than my own. Not that she was a slob mind you, but whereas most of my stuff was somewhat organized, most of her things seemed to be haphazardly scattered from hell to breakfast. Most of her CD collection lay scattered on top of her work desk along with several magazines, books and other personal items. I quickly began searching through the mess trying to find what I was looking for, and did, when I also came across a rather well worn, rather thick book that immediately drew my attention. Across the front of it were the words: "My diary".
I didn't even know she kept one, let alone wrote in one, and out of natural curiosity, I picked it up finding no lock on it though at one time there had obviously been one. I opened it somewhere in the middle I guess it was, curious to see what sort of things she wrote to herself about, though I also know that somewhere in the back of my mind, I was hoping to read some private or dirty little secret, something perhaps that I might even use against her should the situation ever call for it. What I read however floored me, hitting me like a sledge-hammer as I scanned over the words, reading them again over and over until I'd finally convinced myself that what'd I'd just read was correct and that I wasn't imagining it. The entry was dated a few months ago during the summer just before graduation.
"I know I shouldn't, but I can't help wondering what Mark's cock looks like. I stood in the window watching him today as he mowed the lawn, though he didn't see me of course. He might be my stepbrother, but he has a fantastic body, and the way he looked in his cut-off Levi's had me wet between the legs in no time. I wondered what he would have thought had he known that I stood there playing with myself the whole time, having an orgasm in fact just as he finished."
.... There is more of this story ...