Disclaimer ... this is a fictional account of consensual sex between teenage boys and teenage girls. If you have found this story and this kind of thing offends you, then please learn how to use Google properly.
I was thirteen when Dad got his new job. From March to July, all I heard was how it was a great opportunity and how this could be a new start for the whole family. Big deal. I didn't want a new start. I was happy here. Len, my sixteen year-old brother, was happy. Chelsea, my twelve year-old sister, was also happy, but as you know, once the adults decide, we get dragged along.
Some major multinational was opening up a new office, or as they called it, a 'Rural Campus'. Translated into non-twat speak, this meant that they built a huge, shiny, glass building in the middle of nowhere (Dorset), because land was cheap.
We moved into our new house a week after the summer holidays began. Instead of having six weeks playing with mates in the city, hitting the pictures, lurking around the shops, I was stuck in this god forsaken small town. Dad was busy with work; mum was trying to work out how best to decorate our new five bedroom house, which left us kids with nothing to do during the day. British Telecom and NTL had screwed up our order, so we didn't have telephone or Internet and our 'progressive' parents won't let us watch more than an hour of television a day. We quickly discovered that the only thing that you could get in town was dirty looks from the locals, so in order to escape our captivity; we started wandering around the countryside.
Summer holidays dragged on so long that I was eager to start school. I should have known better, shouldn't I? There was obviously a lot of ill-feeling about InfiDim Corp's opening within the local community, and the kids saw us as the envoys of evil. Added to that, it looked like the kids were from generally large families that had not moved out the area for generations. It seemed like most of the student body were cousins or siblings, and I guess, both at the same time. At least we were not alone in being new.
"Okay class, we have three new pupils joining us this year." My new form teacher was called Mrs. Cross, a large woman with an air of somebody who didn't want to be there. She pointed at me first. "This is Harry Borland, Gene Brooks and this is Mary Roché. I am sure you will make them welcome."
If she was sure, then boy, did she not know her pupils. It was clear that we were not welcome. Gene's dad and both Mary's parents worked at InfiDim and so we all shared in the class boycott. Like me, Gene had come from London, though he was from South of The River, so not really proper London, if you know what I mean! Mary was from France, an affliction that furthered our classmates' dislike of her.
She was a cool customer though, more than once some of the younger boys had tried to pull her skirt up and show off her knickers. They didn't get the reaction they were hoping for, that is for sure. I bet they were hoping for tears, instead they got mild contempt. The first time she was standing there, 5ft 6, heart shaped face, framed by short black hair, staring down at the boy and asked him simply if he thought that her panties were too large, and if he had given her warning, she would have worn a thong. The second boy to try it, obviously not forewarned, when he found that she didn't run away or attack him, was frozen, at a loss for what to do. She inquired off him loudly if he wanted a similar pair for himself and gave him the web address that he could get him. Suffice to say, they didn't mess with her a third time.
To give them their due, they decided that giving us the cold shoulder was a better tactic than anything more violent. This just meant that the three of us pretty much bonded straight away. We just spent all our time sitting at the back of the class and making jokes about inbreeding.
Perhaps it was our shared circumstances, but pretty soon these two were more important to me than my best friends back home. Len was doing okay at Sixth-Form College, but he was spending more time on his studies than making friends. Chelsea was having a bad time of it, she didn't have any classmates with parents at the company and the bitchy girls refused to accept her presence. She spent most of her breaks either in the library or hanging around with us.
It was October half term when Dad announced we were going skiing in the French Alps over Christmas. Now, I'm not fond of the sport, but it was a week away from this town. Then he dropped a semi-bomb shell, he'd arranged with Gene and Mary's parents for my friends to come too. Chelsea was about to launch into a rant about how unfair it was that her friends couldn't go too, when she realised that Gene and Mary were probably her two best friends here too. Len, as usual, just took it in and said nothing.
The autumn term dragged on, not helped by the fucking shitty weather. I swear it rained every day from mid November to the end of term.
A bus, train, underground, train, plane and hire-car later and we arrived at La Plagne, a set of resort villages half way up a mountain. Apartment blocks were dotted around the slopes with cable cars linking the villages and ski lifts heading off into the snow covered distance. We pulled into an underground parking bay and lugged our luggage (I wonder if that is how it got its name) into a lift. Our apartment was on the top floor.
The lounge and kitchen were open plan and simply massive. Full length door-windows opened onto a balcony that looked out over the valley. Mum and Dad got the biggest bedroom and Len got the room next door to it. The other two bed rooms led off the other side of the lounge. Gene and I had bunks while Mary and Chelsea were to share a double bed. Our two rooms shared an on-suite.
I managed to survive the whole of Monday morning before I ended up as a human snowball half way down the piste. Luckily, nothing aside from a binding was broken, but I decided that discretion was the better part of valour and retreated back to the apartment. Len had claimed that he was going to spend the day studying, but I soon found out that he had other ideas. I went to use my bathroom and found him on a stool balancing a large bucket of water over the girl's door to the en-suite. I decided it would be safer for me to use the main toilet, so limped off to relieve myself and spent the rest of the afternoon watching Friends and Star Trek dubbed into French.
It was nearly five when the family trooped in, exhausted. Chelsea and Mary went straight off into their room claiming they needed showers, leading Len and I to swap conspiratorial glances. We had only a minute to wait before the crash and the shout of "Fucking Cock-Sucking Bastard" that revealed that it was our beloved sister who was the victim of the oldest trick in the book.
Within seconds a drenched Chelsea came storming out of her room wrapped only in a pale blue towel. To my surprise she ignored Len totally and came heading straight at me, eyes burning fire and mouth inventing swears by the dozen. I tried to protest my innocence while my parents and Gene looked on bemused and Mary stood against the doorframe of their room with an amused look on her face.
Chelsea went to grab a throwable text-book of Len's that was placed on the edge of the table. As she reached out her arm, Len, quick as a flash, leapt from his seat, grabbed her towel and sprinted off into his room, locking it as he went.
It took my sister a few seconds to process what had just happened. Meanwhile, I couldn't help taking in the view. She is only about 5ft 2, but she's just starting into womanhood. Never one to miss a snack, Chelsea isn't in any way fat, but had already got a nice set of curves. Around her pussy there were just a few hairs. Her soaked straight black hair came over her shoulders and onto her chest, the ends sticking together as if pointing to what must have been at least pushing on B-cups.
Her arms came across her chest and crotch, hiding them from view as she wailed in embarrassment and turned to run back to her room, giving us a view of her round bum which wiggled as she ran.
I shook my head; I had not just been checking my sister out. Luckily, I think Gene had been looking at her too, so didn't see me, and I think my parents were not paying too much attention to me either.
To punish Len, my parents took us all out for dinner and left him behind. Secretly, I think they were just trying to keep him and Chelsea as far apart as possible. Mary took it upon herself to persuade my parents to let us have some wine to accompany the pizzas, and was pleased with herself when she succeeded. I didn't want to tell her that my parents had introduced us to wine when we started high school. It was part of their openness policy thing. If we had an open an honest discussion about drink and were taught the dangers, and how to drink responsibly from a reasonable age, then we wouldn't go hanging around with gangs outside off-licences trying to get strangers to buy us strong cider. Of course, now we had moved to the middle of nowhere, no gang would have us anyway! Still, the six off us had finished off two bottles of wine before we left.
I was sitting on the top bunk when Gene passed up a copy of 'L'exclusive'. It was one of a pile of French top-shelf magazines that Gene had managed to acquire to augment the wank-mag stash that he'd brought. I was busy with the adventures of 'la Belle Beatrix' when he cleared his throat.
"Dude, your sister is hot"
"I said your sister is hot, don't you think?"
"Dude, this is my sister." I really didn't want this conversation; I was horny enough to admit I may.
.... There is more of this story ...