My name is Kim, and this is the story of the sexual experience that changed my life.
It was my third week back home from college after my freshman year. I was three months away from being nineteen and liked being grown up. My mom was cool; she'd given up on trying to treat me like her little girl, the way she had in my senior year of high school, so we got along really well nowadays. Even better, my asshole dad was out of the picture. He'd left Mom for this widow with tons of money, and all we ever saw of him was his support checks.
All in all, it could have been a great summer but for one problem: my fourteen-year-old baby sister Cindy had grown into an obnoxious, whiny brat.
She'd been a pretty sweet kid growing up, but something about becoming a teenager had driven her nuts. To begin with, she was so goddamn needy -- always demanding attention, then having hissy fits when she didn't get it. It was absurdly easy to piss her off, too. She took offense at anything and everything, convinced the world was out to rain on her parade. I'd been a bit of a handful in my teen years, sure, but nothing like the drama queen Cindy had evolved into.
Even when she wasn't in a tizzy about something, Cindy was always hanging around, expecting me to keep her amused -- and I no longer had any way to escape her, except in the bathroom. See, my mom had always been into making jewelry, a skill she'd picked up from her dad back when she was a teenager, and while I was away at college she decided to try selling it to bring in extra income. So she started a mail-order business that she installed in Cindy's old room, and my sister moved into mine. Now that I was home, she and I had to share our personal space -- and being her roommate sucked, to say the least.
Worst of all, Cindy's constant presence put a real damper on my sex life.
I'd thought of myself as bisexual by the time I graduated high school, but a few months of college convinced me that I was a lesbian -- and a hot, sexy-as-hell lesbian at that! At my college there were a lot more girls than guys, and most of the females were at least open to the idea of experimenting. I was the proverbial kid in the candy store, fucking one girl after another. I never slept alone in my dorm room if I could help it, and if one of my lovers didn't want to spend the night, my roommate -- a math nerd, but kinda cute -- was always happy to get naked and share my bed.
I'd counted on being able to sneak girls into the house late at night, but having to share a room with Cindy put the kibosh on that but good. I could always go out and meet a girl somewhere else, but it was tricky -- we only had one car, and Mom needed it too much of the time. Even when I was able to go out, Cindy made a big fat deal about me having fun without her, hitting me with all kinds of nosy questions about what I was up to. It was exhausting, coming up with cover stories about why I needed the car and why Cindy couldn't tag along. Mom was being cool, but I wasn't sure that she wouldn't freak out if I told her I was gay, so I wanted to keep that a secret for the time being.
Hell, with Cindy constantly underfoot, it was hard for me to get enough privacy to masturbate! And on top of that I had to deal with her bitchy, irritating attitude all the time. It was too much, damn it. Something had to give.
So I ran the problem around and around in my mind for a few days ... and suddenly, out of the blue, I came up with the greatest idea ever -- a plan that, if successful, would not only fix Cindy's attitude, but make my summer a hell of a lot more exciting.
The next morning, I put on one of my casually slutty outfits -- a pair of denim shorts cut off just under my pussy and a tank top I'd made out of one of my old gym t-shirts from 8th grade by cutting the sleeves off and the collar out. I added a gold ankle bracelet my mom gave me a year or so ago. Dressed like that, I knew I could have at least a few girls looking twice as I sauntered past.
That day, though, it wasn't about heading over to the mall to shop and flirt with the cute girls there, much as I enjoyed that. No, this was the first phase of Operation Adjust Cindy's Attitude.
Phase Two began with me tracking down my baby sister. Not that it was hard to find her -- Cindy was in our room, sprawled in the middle of her bed in skimpy panties and an old faded t-shirt that was about four sizes too big for her. It was, in fact, my dad's old t-shirt, one that I'd worn for a nightie all through high school and that had disappeared right before I packed my stuff to go to college. She was thumbing through some stupid teen magazine with that bored pout of hers that never failed to irritate me. For the moment, however, my plan was to make nice.
"I'm going to the mall," I told her. "You can come if you want, but be ready to go in five minutes."
Her eyes narrowed, wondering why I was inviting her to join me when I usually used any excuse I could to ditch her. I knew, though, that she'd want to tag along too much to ask any questions.
"Sure!" she exclaimed. She tossed the magazine into the wall with a page-fluttering thud and scrambled to her feet, giving me a quick flash of her bare legs and panty-covered butt.
Annoying as my little sister was, I had to admit that she was already totally cute, sure to grow up into an absolute sex bomb.
I drank a Coke in the living room while counting off five minutes, then strolled into the garage. God, Cindy was already there.
"Are we goinnnng?" she shrilled, shifting from one sneakered foot to the other as she stood impatiently by the car.
"Yes, yes, yessssss!" I snapped at her, pretending to be annoyed, pulse quickening at the thought of the fun I planned to have soon when I turned the tables on my bratty sister ... my bratty, sexy little sister.
As soon as we got in the car, Cindy reached for the radio, which was set to the college station I like. I slapped her hand hard -- a sharp little CRACK sound echoing in the garage -- and said, "Put your seatbelt on." Cindy pouted, but sullenly tugged the shoulder harness down and fastened it across her waist. I buckled in too and started the car.
Three blocks away from the house, Cindy made a face at the Sonic Youth track that was playing. "This sucks," she declared, and reached for the radio again.
This time I slapped her face with a deft backhand that left a red mark on her cheek. The CRACK was louder this time.
Cindy was stunned. Neither of my parents ever hit us, not even spankings when we were little. She sat frozen, gaping at me, mouth wide open. I'd just wheeled the car onto the main drag when she finally got her voice back.
"YOU CAN'T HIT ME!" she screamed, in that fire alarm voice that always set my jaw on edge. "Y-you -- I'M TELLIN' MOM YOU DID THAT AN' YOU'RE GONNA GET -- mmmmppphh!"
That last came because I'd leaned over a few inches, which my lap belt allowed me to do because I'd fastened it loosely, and clapped my hand hard over Cindy's mouth. At that point, I executed a quick right hand turn, wrenching the car into the Jiffy Lube parking lot. Switching off the ignition, I shoved her away from me. At that point, she was too startled to make a peep.
"Now, listen up, you little shit," I told Cindy, keeping my voice low and even, "I got you out of the house so we could have a little chat about your behavior. You've been an absolute bitch to me and Mom, and you're driving us both nuts. I've had it up to here, and I'm not gonna tolerate this bullshit from you for one more day. Maybe Mom won't discipline you like you deserve, but I'll take a goddamn belt to your ass if you don't shape up. You hear me!?"
Cindy gave me a wounded look, her lower lip jutting out. "That's not fair," she whined. "You and Mom are always ganging up on me. You don't even try to understand how I feel about..."
"There you go again!" I snapped, cutting her off. "Nobody's ganging up on you, damn it. See, that's exactly what I'm talking about. You carry on like the whole world revolves around Cindy. If you don't get every single thing you want, exactly when you want it, you complain and whine and whine and complain until everyone around you is totally miserable -- especially Mom. Listen, I've had enough of your bratty behavior. Enough!" I smacked the back of her headrest, hard.
Cindy was gaping at me, eyes huge. "What ... what is it you want m-me to do?" she whispered, now looking seriously scared -- which was at least part of what I wanted. Now I had to calm her down before she started sniveling.
"Listen," I said, gently brushing her hair out of her eyes with the back of my hand. She flinched at first, then submitted, closing her eyes and pouting. "I'm not gonna be mean to you if you don't make me. I love you, even though you've been an utter pain in the ass ever since I got home." While I spoke, I started up the car again, exiting the parking lot. "I swear, sometimes you make me wish I was still back at school instead of on vacation."
That really struck home. Cindy sank down in her seat, looking miserable. "I'm -- I'm sorry if I've been that awful to you and Mom ... I didn't know I was, really. W-what can I do to be better?"
.... There is more of this story ...