Chapter 1

My sister and I always got along pretty well. For one, we aren’t super close in age. Charlie’s 22, and I’m 14, so we didn’t ever go to the same school or fight over ... I dunno, whatever it is siblings of closer ages fight over. But also our personalities aren’t really that incompatible: she’s always been more confident and outgoing, and I’ve always been more ... cautious and nerdy, I guess is how I’d describe it.

It’s not like we were best friends or anything, but still, I missed her being around while she was off in college. For three years, it was just me and our parents at home. It was kinda weird at first, but it became the new normal — only seeing her around holidays or school vacations.

The previous few summers, she and her best friend, Samantha, stayed in their dorm and then their apartment in their college town a few hours away.

But this year, ahead of her senior year, Charlie came back to stay the summer with us in her old room down the hall — still decked out with posters of U.S. Women’s Soccer players and concerts she’d been to, and home to all manner of stuffed animals and other things I was never allowed to touch on pain of death.

All that’s to say that I hadn’t gotten used to the idea of needing to lock my bedroom door.

I mean, I thought it was pretty good just for me to have closed the door while engaging in the summer afternoon pastime of adolescent boys. So when she knocked, I only had time to hastily stuff my hard-on back into my underwear before the door opened and Charlie stuck her head in.

“Hey Danny, Mom texted me and —” she stopped short when she saw what I was doing, stricken with a look of bewilderment and horror — probably a lot like the one on my own face.

Then she started laughing and took a step inside. I was still frozen, in shock, sitting off-balance in my computer chair with my shorts around my ankles and my hand trying in vain to obscure my only partially stuffed-in dick that was straining to break through my boxers.

“Caught you red-handed, you might say!” she said, chuckling to herself. “Well, I was going to say that Mom wanted me to pick something up for dinner ... but I see you’ve already got your hands on some sausage!”

Har har. I was sure I was red as a tomato from the embarrassment. And why had she come in!

“Jesus, get out!” I stammered, trying not to fall out of the chair and make the spectacle even worse while I grasped for my shorts.

She just smiled wider.

“So, you’d definitely be okay with beef strokin’-off for dinner, then?” she retorted, grinning the grin of someone who could not be more pleased with themselves.

I groaned. “Oh my God, this is embarrassing enough, please just leave!”

“Oh okay,” she said, sighing. “I was gonna try to work in ‘beating your meat’ but I hadn’t come up with a good setup yet. You’ll just have to fill in the blanks on that one I guess.”

She gave one last laugh, but, mercifully, backed out the door. I heaved a deep sigh of my own, letting my half-raised shorts fall back down in a heap.

Just before the door closed, though, Charlie’s head popped back in, this time with an inquisitive look, not a mocking one.

“Wait a second, is that...?” she squinted her eyes at the computer screen, then took a step back inside.

Fuck. Please don’t see —

I stood up and tried to block the screen, then realized that only gave my sister a full-on view of my underwear, though at least my boner had completely subsided. That was the least of my worries now.

“Oh my God, are you jacking off to Melissa?”

She didn’t look angry, thankfully, more ... mischievously intrigued, like she’d just heard me say that I like to drink raw eggs from a glass each morning — something that makes you go “eww, that’s disgusting... tell me more.”

She took another step closer and leaned to the side so she could see around me. But the damage was already done.

There was no doubt she could see the whole screen now, filled with the bikini-clad bodies of two dark-haired college girls. I’d met Charlie’s friend Melissa one time when she’d brought Melissa here a couple summers back. To see the sights I guess. Never asked why. Certainly never asked Melissa.

She was, as the French say, hot as fuck, the sexiest woman I’d ever seen in person, and I spent the couple of days she’d stayed here trailing her around the house and petrified any time she talked to me. Or really just noticed me, even. She had long, chocolate-brown hair, breasts that I wouldn’t have been able to fit in my hand and a body that was toned and tanned. I’d spent many, many a free afternoon and night stroking myself to her pictures on Instagram after she’d left. Okay, and the nights she was here, too.

The one on the screen now was one of my favorites: Melissa standing on a beach, wearing aviators and a neon yellow bikini that hid very little, throwing her arms up in the air in excitement about ... well, something. I liked to imagine something having to do with me, naturally. But it put her entire body, from head to toe, on display in a way I could never get out of my head.

And who would want to, anyway? The way her hips curved, how smooth every inch of skin looked — mmm. What I would do to get that bikini off her.

Still, I had to deny what I was obviously doing, even if it was plain as day.

“Err... no!” I finally retorted.

Whew, that oughta convince her!

It had seemed like the smart play, even though it was obvious I was jacking off to that picture. It would’ve been even weirder if I’d just straight up admitted it to my sister, though, right?

Charlie raised her eyebrow, clearly not even close to buying it, but still looking playful about it rather than enraged. That was good, at least. I think.

She leaned around and looked at the picture again, and her eyebrow arched even further.

“So ... if not Melissa, then ... jacking off to the other lovely lady in that photo are we, hmm?” her eyes flashed with obvious glee that she’d caught me in such an uncomfortable lie.

Wait.

The other... fuck.

“Bold choice, brother! Not every boy would have the...” she looked down at my hand trying to cover my bulging boxers in vain, “balls to just tell his sister to her face that he’s masturbating to her! But nobody can say you’re not a bold guy! Hmm, is ‘bold’ the right word...? Welp, in any case, don’t let me stop you!”

She clapped me on the shoulder with mock encouragement, then made a show of leaving the room, triumphant and cackling, while I stammered out my protests.

Holding the door open another moment before she went into the hallway, Charlie turned around with that smirk still plastered on her face, and craned her neck to get another look at the screen.

“Could’ve at least picked a better photo though,” she said, scrunching up her smirk into a thoughtful frown.

And with that, as mysteriously as she’d arrived, the door smacked shut again and I was left to marinate in my embarrassment, boner utterly gone.

Ugh.

She didn’t really think I was jerking off to her ... right?

Nah, she was joking. Had to be.

I let out a defeated sigh and looked back at the photo. Would this thing ever get me hard again?

Eh, who am I kidding, of course it will.

Honestly, I guess I’d never really thought about Charlie being in the photo with Melissa. I’d just always focused on Melissa, drinking in every little curve and pore I could make out, imagining what each centimeter would taste and feel like.

But truth be told — in a strictly objective sense, mind you — my sister is just as hot as Melissa, I thought while examining the non-Melissa half of the photo more closely than I ever had before. Melissa was all about curves, but Charlie was more athletic and compact.

Charlie was a little shorter, her frame smaller, skin a little paler, and had darker, blacker hair down to just below her shoulders. Her body was seemingly free of any and all extraneous fat but still ... soft and pliable, like the runner she was.

And her legs ... how I had never noticed how long they were, how smooth they looked? Suspended in a jet black bikini top, her breasts were smaller than Melissa’s too — though, personally, I liked them that way. I mean, I liked the way they looked and how I thought they would feel. I didn’t actually have any real experience to compare it to. They seemed like they probably didn’t need anything holding them to stay just as perky as they looked, though.

If she weren’t my sister, honestly, sure, I’d probably have spent more time learning every little nook and freckle of Charlie’s body in that photo instead.

Especially her eyes.

Damn.

Maybe it was something about the lighting, but the way her green eyes just seemed to pierce through the screen ... it sent a shiver through me, the kind of shiver you get when somebody traces their fingertips along your neck — that kind of shiver.

It was like she was looking right at me, and for some reason, that felt... adventurous. I felt my hard-on get a second wind, and I gave in to the sudden urge — no, not gave in, more like encouraged the urge — to pull my dick out again and start stroking it.

I kept staring at those green eyes of hers, that smirk that looked so familiar. As her little brother, I’d always seen those smirks and devilish grins as warnings. But suddenly it was like I was seeing it from a different angle for the first time. Her half-grin, combined with her magnetic eyes — it was like she was about to share a naughty secret with me ... and only me, if I was good.

The thought of those eyes, of her, watching me jerk off ... it made me harder and harder and I stroked faster and faster. Suddenly I wished that I’d admitted to it instead of deflecting, wishing that she’d known about the million times I’d cum to this picture, to the thought of her friend’s tight pussy around my cock, taking my virginity.

I gasped and the count went up to a million-and-one, spilling into a tissue I’d hastily grabbed.

I slumped down in the chair and took a few deep breaths, processing what had just happened in the last five minutes.

What had turned me on so much? Just the thought of Charlie knowing I jerk off to Melissa? Or ... Charlie watching me jerk off to Melissa? Or what? Of course, it wasn’t Melissa I’d just jerked off to...

She hadn’t fled the room when she saw what I was doing, instead she looked ... curious. And amused. Something about that look just...

I shuddered, then gave out another little contented groan, still massaging myself.

Finally I shook my head, wiped myself off and pulled my shorts back up.

Too weird to think about. Let’s not do this again.

When I heard Charlie come back to the house a while later, presumably with the dinner Mom’d asked her to get, I felt way too sheepish to leave my room until I absolutely had to. Even though we’d lived together my whole life prior to the last few years, I couldn’t recall something as embarrassing as that ever happening between us before. I guess by the time she’d left for college, I was just coming into my own — I guess that’s what I’d call it — as a masturbator, so it wasn’t really a problem we’d had to deal with much? Maybe?

Ugh.

When Mom called up the stairs for dinner, I had yet to come up with a good excuse to stay in my room, so I opened my door and began the death march down to the kitchen.

Charlie and Mom were bustling about preparing dinner, and neither of them paid me much attention. Dad was at the table already.

Both parents greeted me without really looking up from what they were doing — Mom taking plates out of the cabinet and Dad on his phone. I didn’t look over toward the stove where Charlie was, but I had the uncanny feeling her green eyes were burrowing into my back and she was smirking. Maybe it just felt that way, though.

Soon enough everybody was seated at the table, ready to dig into the dinner Charlie’d made — corn and hot dogs. Real classy choices, Charlie.

“I didn’t think you really liked hot dogs, Charlotte,” Mom said as she filled up her plate.

Charlie took a hot dog and held it up thoughtfully, dangling it inquisitively between two of her slender fingers.

“Eh, Melissa really turned me on to those bigger, like, bratwurst sausage things at college, and so I thought, you know, maybe just a little ol’ tiny-bit-smaller-than-average hot dog would be pretty good too,” she said, putting her hot dog in a bun and casually turning those green eyes to me. “Melissa turns a lot of people on, I hear. To new things, that is.”

Jesus. Okay, Charlie. I fucking get it. I rolled my eyes.

“Oh how is Melissa?” Mom asked, apparently oblivious to Charlie’s wordplay.

Charlie paused and took a bite.

“She’s holding up pretty well,” Charlie said after chewing, her cat’s-meow-expression replaced by something else. “I guess. I haven’t talked to her since — since the semester ended.”

“Oh,” Mom responded. “Well, maybe you should give her a call. I’m sure she’d like to have someone to talk to, too.”

Charlie took a long time to finish chewing her bite. “Yeah, maybe,” she said, then was quiet.

They started talking about something else, but I focused on my plate, determined to finish and get out before Charlie could think up any more “clever” innuendos to put me on edge.

After a while I felt a kick under the table and looked up at Charlie in surprise.

“Huh?”

“I said, did you help your sister with dinner?” Mom said, apparently repeating a question to me that I hadn’t heard.

Charlie interjected.

“Oh yeah, he certainly lent a hand,” she said, laying it on thick again. “Helped out, too — he was buttering his corn practically alllll afternoon.”

Wow. Did she buy corn... just to make that joke? I stared at her with a mix of incredulousness and awe at the commitment and planning that went into some lame double entendres that only I would get.

“But the corn wasn’t buttered already,” I heard Dad mutter, though he shrugged it off, thank goodness. Who knows what witty ripostes Charlie had prepared for any such follow-ups.

“So what have you kids got going on tomorrow?” Dad asked instead.