Michael unlocked the door with a sigh, knowing that he had to go through with this, no matter how little he wanted to.
The place still felt — even smelled — like home. He'd grown up here, after all, and upgrading to new apartments every time a promotion made it possible meant that he had never really gotten attached to anywhere else.
He had to let it go, though. After much soul searching, he and his sister Paige had decided that it was ridiculous to keep paying property taxes on a house that they probably wouldn't even have time to keep up. They both lived on the west coast, hundreds of miles away, and had full time jobs.
He climbed the stairs to his old room, knowing that it would look exactly the same as the last time he'd visited, before his mother died — almost the same as it had looked when he finally moved out after college.
It saddened him to see the thin layer of dust on his old dresser. The room had always remained spotless so long as his mother was alive. The doors to the bathroom joining his room to Paige's were open — not that they would stay shut. The doors would drift open in no predictable pattern, sometimes staying closed for weeks, and then opening every couple of minutes at just the wrong times.
Or the right ones.
He shook his head and tried to push the thoughts aside. That was one set of memories that he hadn't counted on awakening when he walked into the house. Here in the bedroom, it was hard to forget them, though.
Michael left his room and walked down the hall to his mother's bedroom. Here too, dust had settled for the first time in decades. He knew that he should be going back out to the truck to bring in boxes, but he couldn't help looking around the room, which had been all but off-limits his whole life.
A strange sound attracted his attention toward the walk-in closet. He immediately guessed that the noise was a mouse, and jerked open the door while turning on the light to see if he could catch a look at the vermin. A skittering sound overhead let him know that the rodent was on the shelves above, not on the floor.
Knowing how frightened his sister and aunt were of mice, he decided to pull everything off the high shelves now to prevent either of them from coming face to face with their fear tomorrow. It took several minutes to transfer all of the hatboxes, shoeboxes, and plastic tubs to the bed, leaving behind an antique wooden box that he'd never seen before, hidden deep in a corner.
Once he brought the box out into the room, he gave it a soft shake, but couldn't really hear anything to tell what was inside. The box was locked, but something he'd stumbled across while searching for the copy of his mother's will might provide an answer to that.
The key from the junk drawer — as if something so perfectly organized could be called such — in his mother's dresser looked just as old as the box. Sure enough, it fit perfectly into the keyhole, and the box opened.
Michael laughed, his cheeks turning red. The pictures were of his mother and father when they were dating. The top one was of his mother in a bathing suit — daring for the day — striking a sexy pose that he simply could not make mesh with memories of her. The rest of the pictures were much the same, and explained why the box was locked. He was sure that his aunt would love to have them.
In the bottom of the box, he found a diary. It was far newer than the photos, and made him curious. He pulled it out and opened the cover to discover that it belonged to his sister. He'd never even known that she kept one, and wondered why it would be in the box with the photos.
The first date was her sixteenth birthday, and the entry was written as if she was talking to the diary. Curiosity overwhelmed him, and he sat down in a chair to thumb through the pages.
He learned a lot in those first few pages that he never would have guessed about his sister. She'd harbored crushes on almost every one of his friends, and wrote down her deepest, innermost thoughts in the diary. As the entries continued, the details grew even more intimate, especially after the one of her eighteenth birthday.
The thought of stopping never even occurred to him. He skimmed through, his eyes absorbing the details when she would describe masturbating, shaving her pussy, and everything else that most brothers would never want to know about a sister. She wrote less frequently after graduation, but sometimes wrote for pages when she did. An entry about six months after her birthday caused his eyes to widen, and memories to awaken.
She'd wrote, "I can't believe Mom is doing this. All of my really hot panties are vanishing. I know that she's throwing them away because she thinks that they're slutty, but I bought them!"
The entry went on, but Michael's eyes glazed over. Paige was wrong. His mother wasn't the one who had taken the panties. It was him.
He could still see it in his mind's eye as clearly as if it were happening right in front of him. He'd gone to the bathroom late one night, shortly after her eighteenth birthday, because he felt sick from drinking too much. His girlfriend had just dumped him, and he was trying to drown his sorrows.
The nausea had faded as he knelt over the bowl, and he sat back against the wall before daring to try to stand. The sound of whimpering and heavy breathing had drawn his eyes to where the ever-annoying door into his sister's room had drifted open a few inches.
Paige was nude atop the sheets, bathed in the light of a full moon streaming through the window. He'd sat hypnotized as she caressed her breasts with one hand, the other probing and rubbing between her legs at an ever-increasing pace.
Her back had arched up from the bed when she reached orgasm, her mouth open in a silent scream. He'd only managed to creep back into his own room when she finally fell limp to the bed, her passion spent.
Stiff and throbbing from the sight, he'd masturbated and came harder than he could ever remember in his life. The next morning, her panties were on top of the hamper in the bathroom when he awakened. They still smelled of her — musky and intoxicating. Before he had a chance to think about what he was doing, he took them.
It wasn't the last pair of her panties that he took, either — as she detailed in her diary. She knew that they were missing, but blamed her mother. It also wasn't the last time that he'd hidden in the shadows and watched her play with her pussy. Even when the door didn't cooperate by opening, he often heard her, and knew what she was doing.
The diary wasn't done shocking him, either. A few pages later, he discovered that his nocturnal spying wasn't a one-way thing.
The entry read, "I was wrong about my panties. I went to the bathroom last night and the door to Mike's room was open. I didn't mean to look, but I did. He was sniffing my panties and jacking off!
"I know that I should have been mad, but I wasn't. I couldn't take my eyes off of his cock. It's the biggest one I've ever seen. He was jerking it really fast, and I could see everything because the moon was so bright last night.
"It made me so horny that I had to touch myself. I felt so dirty, but I was so hot and wet that I couldn't help it. I was so close to cumming when he shot cum all over him and I had to get away from the door so he wouldn't see me.
"My pussy was aching so much that I had to make myself cum. I was afraid that he would hear me, but I couldn't help it. I got off thinking about his big cock, and it felt so good.
"I don't know what's wrong with me. I can't stop thinking about it, and I keep looking at his cock every time I see him. My panties are probably soaking wet right now. I have to get myself off again, or I'm going to go crazy!"
The entries picked up after that. She wrote at least once a day, and sometimes more than that. Every time, all she talked about was his cock, and how hard she came when she masturbated thinking about it. She wrote that she was playing with her pussy all the time, and had even come in the bathroom at work.
Mike's cock throbbed in his pants, straining against the denim. He'd never noticed her looking at his dick, but that was because he was afraid to look at her. Every time he'd looked at her, he could imagine her naked, playing with her pussy, and it made him hard as a rock.
The last entry in the diary made his cock throb even harder.
"I can't take it any more. I want his cock so bad. I've almost snuck into his room naked three times now and begged him to fuck me. Mom is going to be gone for a party tomorrow night, and I'm going to do it."
Michael glanced at the date of the entry, and remembered that party. His mother had never gone, even though she couldn't stop talking about it for weeks beforehand. On the day of the party, she'd suddenly started acting weird. A couple of days later, she'd taken Paige to Aunt Helen's without much explanation. Paige had acted really scared and embarrassed the whole time, too.
Now he knew how the diary had ended up in his mother's locked box. She'd read the diary, found out what Paige had written, and sent her away before his sister could do what she said she was going to do. Paige had enrolled in college, and it was years before Mike saw her again. By then he'd managed to suppress the memories of that summer.
He nearly had a heart attack when he heard her calling from downstairs. "Mike?"
"Up here," he answered, and then panicked, trying to think of somewhere to hide the diary. He settled on lifting the covers and secreting it between the mattress and frame of the bed.
"Hey," she said as she walked into the room. She looked around and let out a little chuckle. "Weird, isn't it? We were never allowed in here. I still feel like I'm about to get in trouble. Aunt Helen is the same way."
"Yeah," he answered, tearing his eyes away from her. He was still hard, and she was just as sexy as she was at eighteen. He made a show of checking the closet, as though looking for more things on the shelves. "I thought you weren't coming until the morning?"
"Meeting fell through, and then I found out that they had overbooked the hotel. Since I was so close, I figured I'd stay in my old room one more time. Did you get the boxes?"
"Yeah, they're out in the truck."
"Uhm, it looks like a mouse has been chewing on that box," Paige said while pointing at one of the hatboxes, her voice unsettled.
"That's why I decided to go ahead and get them down. I know how you and Aunt Helen are about mice. I heard him running around up there when I came in."
Paige hugged her arms around her and shivered. "I'm not touching any of those boxes, and you're going into every room before I do."
He couldn't help but notice the way her breasts lifted with her arms crossed beneath them. "So, you want to help me bring in the boxes?"
"Sure. Just go make sure that there aren't any mice in my room first, so I can put my bag in there."
He nodded and went to do exactly that. He put his hands in his pockets and pushed them out to hide his still throbbing erection.
Mike managed to keep his arousal under control by staying busy, but it wasn't easy. Every time she bent over, displaying her long, gorgeous legs and heart-shaped ass, his eyes seemed to snap to her. She stretched and yawned several times, lifting her full breasts for his over-eager eyes.
By the time the sun had set, he and his sister had made a dent in the momentous task still before them. The bulk of the work would have to wait until tomorrow when the other members of the family arrived, anyway.
Paige yawned again, her stretch threatening to send blood surging into her brother's half-hard cock again. "I'm beat. I think I'm going to take a shower and go to bed."
"Think I will too. It was a long drive."
"Mind if I go first?"
"Go ahead. I could always use the other one, if I don't want to wait."
With a laugh, Paige remarked, "I didn't even think about it. We were never allowed to use Mom's bathroom except in the most dire emergencies, either." She turned toward the stairs and said, "Goodnight."
The sight of her ass swaying as she walked up the stairs was almost too much.
Once she turned into her room, Mike crept up the stairs and into his mother's room. He retrieved the diary from its hiding place and took it to slip it into his bag in his room just as he heard the shower start.
Knowing that she was naked just beyond the unreliable bathroom door broke down his defenses again. He stared at the doorknob, willing the latch to release, hoping for even the slightest glimpse of her stepping out of the shower.
He flirted with the idea of opening the door, hoping that the shower would cover the sound, but couldn't summon up the nerve. No matter what she'd written in her diary, a lot of years had passed. He'd managed to forget his own lusty thoughts about her for a long time, and he hadn't had his life turned upside down because of them as Paige had.
The door on his side of the bathroom was open when he stepped out of the shower some time later, but the one on his sister's side remained closed. Somewhere in the back of his head, he knew it was for the best. It was nothing more than a fantasy from his younger years combining with a long dry spell in the bedroom to tempt him.
Nevertheless, his ears strained in the still of the night, listening for faint sounds of pleasure coming from her room. He could see her in his mind's eye, naked atop her bed and coming, but heard nothing.
His cock was almost painfully hard, tenting both his boxers and the sheet above. He'd brought a washcloth with him from the bathroom, knowing that he was going to need it. The sheet and his underwear found a new home at the foot of the bed.
The fantasy in his head was so real that he could almost believe it was Paige's hand wrapped around his cock, and not his own. He could see her breasts jiggling as she stroked him, and the wonder in her eyes as she finally fulfilled her desires from those years long past.
He was just beginning to feel the itch building in his shaft when the door to the bathroom burst open.
"I think there's a mouse in my ... my..." Paige began, and then trailed off, her eyes locked on his throbbing member clutched in his hand.
Her sudden appearance startled him so much that he didn't even think to pull the covers over him. The slip she was wearing further helped to numb his mind to his own embarrassing appearance. It barely reached below her thighs — the material thin and airy. He could easily see her cream-colored panties, and the silhouette of her large, perfect breasts through the cloth. Not even that faint barrier hid her shoulders, or her long, shapely legs.
Their eyes met at the exact same moment, after a long, detailed study of each other. Even in the moonlit room, both could see the desire in each other's eyes.
"Aren't you missing something?" Paige asked in a low, sensual tone as she walked toward the bed.
With his hand still on his cock, which was throbbing even harder now, he couldn't manage an answer. Every ounce of his brainpower was devoted to drinking in the details of her hips swaying, and the slight bounce of her breasts as she approached.
As soon as she reached the bed, Paige lifted the bottom of her slip, and pulled her panties down. As the cloth fell again, he could see the shadow of the triangle that she left unshaven on her mound, and just the faintest hints of her bare pussy. She bent, showing off the upper globes of her breasts, and stepped out of her panties.
Paige leaned over the bed, sliding her hand up his thigh, and held her panties out to him. "You don't have to steal them any more. I want you to."
Overwhelmed by the sight of her, her voice, and her touch, he needed her scent as well. He took the silky cloth from her hand and brought it to his face.
A deep inhale caused him to shudder. It was just as he remembered it, if not more intense. He could feel a damp spot against his nose as he filled his lungs with the aroma of her arousal.
"Don't stop. I was always too far away when I watched you from the bathroom. Stroke it for me, Mikey. Please?"
In a near state of intoxication, he started pumping his fist over his erection. She crawled into the bed with him, and tickled his balls with her fingertips, letting out excited little moans all the while.
"It's so gorgeous. You're so gorgeous. Make it come for me. I want to see it up close, Mikey."
The itch of impending orgasm returned, even more powerful than before. His hand squeezed tighter as it stroked his hard flesh. A drop of pre-cum welled up from his tip, and Paige leaned over him to lap it up with her tongue. She let out a quavering moan as she tasted him.
"Oh, Sis," he cried out, and then groaned as he felt his seed surging up for release.
"Oh yes. Do it, Mikey," she encouraged him in a breathless, excited tone.
"Ah! Ah! Oh!" he grunted as he reached the point of no return, and then a groaning cry of release exploded from him, along with his semen.
Thick ropes of cum arched from his pulsing cock, spattering on his chest, and even reaching his chin. As soon as he ceased to spurt, his sister took him in her mouth, pulling his hand away at the same time.
Paige moaned around him as he oozed the last of his cream into her hot mouth. He twitched uncontrollably from her lips engulfing him and the slippery caress of her tongue on his sensitive organ. After only a few seconds, he lifted a weak, trembling hand to push her away, unable to take any more.
She released him with a moan, and then licked her lips. She obviously hadn't had enough, though. Paige stood his softening organ straight up, and then lapped at the pool of cum on his belly. While he continued to tremble and lurch from his orgasm, she lapped up every drop of cum decorating his body, ending with the dollop clinging to his chin.
"You taste so good," she leaned in to whisper in his ear. Before he could register what she was doing in his post-orgasmic state, her lips found his.
The feeling of her soft lips pressing against his completely erased any thoughts that those very same lips had been wrapped around his cock only a minute earlier. Likewise, his tongue twined with hers in the kiss without reservation, though she had lapped his body clean of cum with it.
"Mmm ... I always knew that your kisses would be this good," she said as their lips parted. "Do you want to watch me?"
"Play with your pussy?" He blurted out, and then winced as the thought caused his sensitive cock to protest against such arousing thoughts.
Paige bit her lower lip and smiled, the grin somehow both naughty and endearingly innocent at the same time. She nodded, and then moaned when he nodded in turn.
Mike rubbed her damp, silky panties between his fingers as she rose up to her knees and pulled her slip over her head, revealing her body to him up close for the first time. Her pink nipples stood out erect, calling him to wrap his lips around them. She let her slip fall to the mattress, and then reclined next to him.
He fought against the lethargy of his own orgasm to sit up, giving her room to part her legs, and a good vantage point of the prettiest pussy he'd ever seen. Thin, perfectly pink lips guarded the entrance to her treasure, and those parted to reveal the glimmering of wetness when her hand glided down her body, between her legs.
Paige ran the tips of two fingers up and down the parting of her nether lips in a slow, sexy caress. "Mmm ... I've done this so many times, thinking about your cock, Mikey. I come so hard when I think about it deep inside me. I never stopped thinking about you — ever. I pretended that it was you every time I had sex with someone else. I've wanted you ever since I first saw you touching yourself. I just couldn't stop."