I thought everyone else was already in bed. I knew my parents were. I assumed Emma was too, as I hadn't seen her for over an hour. It was after midnight, but still Friday night to me. After a week of my final year in high school, I was all about staying up late, having a snack, hoping to catch a so-bad-it's-good gem among the late night movies.
But then Emma stepped into the room. She was dressed for bed in a t-shirt that maybe should have been a little longer for wearing when not directly in bed. Or at least in her bedroom. If I walked around the house in just my briefs and a tee, I'd get yelled at. But then, even though she was my sister, she was still a girl. And the only thing I understood about girls was that I liked the way they looked. So firm, yet so soft.
She stared at the screen for about ten seconds. "This looks familiar. What is it?"
"It's The Van."
"Oh my god! really?"
"I thought you were in bed, like them."
"I was hanging out in my room, and I was going to bed for good, but not now!"
My sister Emma was a year younger than me, and we had a contentious relationship that drove Mom mad. The one truce we had was that we both loved staying up late on the weekends and discovering bad old movies on the late night t.v. It was so sweet: we would even share our snacks.
Half a year back, afterwards, we'd clicked off all the lights and gone down the hall to our respective bedrooms nodding and chatting about how The Van was the greatest movie ever made.
Usually we did mighty battle over the comfortable couch. It was actually way too short to ever stretch out on--unless you hung your legs over the one arm and got a bad crick in your neck from the other. Though on the perpendicular wall, it was damn close to the t.v.
This late and this tired, I was on the old lumpy sofa. Though directly but all the way across the room from the t.v., I could stretch out all I wanted. When Emma decided to join me, I wasn't surprised that she turned and walked over to the comfy couch. I was surprised when she simply grabbed a plump throw pillow, using it as a headrest as she settled on her belly on the carpet, directly between me and the t.v.
I really couldn't be faulted for getting distracted. I wasn't a pervert, but my sister did have a cute butt. And there it was, the hem of her shirt riding high. Nicely rounded panties, declining to just a strip of cloth dipping down to the central mystery of my young life.
I couldn't stand how hard I was getting. Like a slap on her ass I said, "Hey, Emma, you have a really cute butt, but maybe you don't mean to put it on such display."
Emma shrugged, keeping her gaze on the tube. "I don't care if you see my butt." After the tense pause, she did tug the shirt hem down, not that it made much difference. Except for the tone of her voice when she next spoke.
"If you want a closer look, guess you'll have to come down here."
The words hung in the air as the van attacked again. I had to take a pause all my own. I wasn't moving off the couch right away. I had a hard-on starting I needed to get under control first.
And then I did so get up to go kneel down alongside my own sister. From more directly above, her shirt hem had shifted up to just barely hint at her panties. I suddenly wondered if she even knew what she was showing. But then, she had basically invited me down beside her. There should be a big fat book for boys entitled What Girls Mean When They Say... , except it wouldn't have done me any good. It would've been hidden somewhere in my bedroom, not laying out on the coffee table in the livingroom.
I didn't know what to do next, except that what it seemed I should do next I did indeed do. I moved an open palm to gently cup a cheek of that cute butt, sliding the bottom of the shirt up to her waist and out of the way. Emma gave a little flinch when I first left my hand to stay, but once I'd touched it, there was no way I could ever leave off it. Her cute butt was so firm, yet so soft.
Emma kept watching the movie, unmoved, though she started twitching at the waist. The movie broke for commercials, and there I sat, massaging my sister's cute butt. Apparently, not only did she not care if I saw her cute butt, she also didn't mind if I molested it.
But from the fabric, my fingers retreated, regrouping a bit above her knee. Moving ever so slowly back up towards the fabric, but returning on the inner thigh trail.
"What are you doing?" she said in a whisper that cut across the commercials.
"Feeling how soft your skin is right here. Like silk. If you want me to stop, just say so." Emma said nothing. Her answer was to open her legs just slightly more than they'd been. My fingers slunk further up her smooth skin, until I encountered elastic. I moved my hand over the fabric, as though towards the elastic of the other leg, but I made so bold as to stop midway.
I had anatomy diagrams memorized from a Health class, so I had a grip of the terrain. Plus all the stuff that gets handed down from the older boys. Stir in a couple dirty magazines.
I knew nothing. I was embarrassed to be 17, with just a couple kisses under my belt. My fingers were focusing on the strip of cloth between little sister's legs. She canted her hips so I could better get a hand slipped down under her cute butt.
It was then that I realized I had no idea what was happening. None of it made any sense. My sister was letting me rub her pussy through her panties. In the middle of the family room floor. I'd just been watching a movie on t.v., and suddenly there I was, kneeling on the carpet beside Emma, with my wayward hand having made her want to arch up her cute butt enough I could slip further and actually touch her like that.
What was going on? This was such uncharted territory. There were no maps. I was touching a girl like that for the first time. Feeling the growing heat of a girl through the crotch of her panties, feeling that strip of fabric getting damp. With the girl being my sister, who seemed to be enjoying the attention.
Until suddenly Emma was rolling around, displacing my hand, and I figured ending it all. Framing me as some sort of pervert.
Instead, she rolled over onto her back. My hand moved back to her mound, with a much better angle of access. As I slowly stroked the crotch of her soaked panties, Emma sighed and spread her thighs even more. I played with her through the fabric until she just grabbed my wrist and steered me underneath, down the front of her panties, until my fingers encountered a swollen wetness I'd never touched before.
It was an awkward position, my arm coming down about perpendicular, my wrist trapped at nearly a right angle by the waistband. Emma figured it out with a smirk, reaching to shuck her panties down her thighs.
I had a finger smoothly inside her, when I got bold enough to touch one of the lumps in her shirt. "I want to see you," I played it lightly.
Emma gave a little laugh, then crossed her arms across her chest and looked uncomfortable. She gave a wry look. "I know they're not nearly as big as all the other boobs you've seen. And touched and stuff," she added with a shrug.
"I don't care about any of that," I whispered. "What I said was I want to see you."
She knitted her hands together and coughed up a self-conscious laugh.
"Please," I said. "After all, I am the boy who has a finger inside you. Up your tight little cunt," I snarled like a pirate.
With that, she gave a little giggle and untangled her fingers. They pulled the hem of her shirt up to her neck. My heart about stopped. I knew my sister didn't have big boobs--her shirts showed that. And that wasn't my interest. What I wasn't prepared for was the shock when her shirt did come up. Emma had such perfect little breasts, I was drooling before I was aware of it. I was totally deep in deer-in-headlights territory.
"My god," I muttered, "you're an angel."
"You're allowed to touch them," my sister said quietly. "If I'm showing them to you, it means I want you to touch me."
I wasted no time there, though taking my time before moving my lips down to take a stiff nipple into my mouth for the first time in my life. Emma groaned her gratitude as I moaned mine.
I pulled away, eventually, moving my mouth back up to hers. I bit down the side of her neck, until I whispered in her ear. My free hand closed on her closest breast. "Want to know something secret and special?"
"Yes," she purred.
Tugging on her nipple for emphasis, I murmured, "Yours are the first I've ever seen. Much less touched or kissed or sucked." And then I slid around the finger I had up inside her. "Emma, I've never touched a girl like this before."
Emma grabbed my head and tugged until we were touching noses. Her eyes were sparkling. "Really? You're a virgin, too?"
I nodded my shame.
"Technically, I guess I'm not," she spoke.
I was contemplating the vagaries of possible technicalities when she said, "Remember last spring when I was at field hockey practice and wound up in the emergency room?"
I well remembered a frantic call from Mom, the hours of worry about my sister being in the hospital for some undisclosed injury. And then they came home and no one told me nothing, and all I could see was that Emma walked a little funny until she went to bed and woke up healed.
"I never had any idea what that was all about."
"Yea, I lost my cherry to a hockey stick between my legs." Emma leaned into me, and we shared a long lingering kiss. "Want to know something else secret and special?"
.... There is more of this story ...