Fran: My Brother's Keeper

by Dapper Dan

Copyright© 2014 by Dapper Dan

Incest Sex Story: Big sister, Little brother. They have a changing relationship.

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Incest   Brother   Sister   .

DISCLAIMERS:

I do not practice nor do I condone any of the sexual acts about which I write, other than straight, heterosexual relationships. Beside the fact that most other forms of sexual behavior are illegal, I still don't judge consenting adults for their sexual preferences except where such behavior is hurtful/harmful to others, such as pedophilia.

None-the-less, many people have FANTASIES of such taboo laden behavior to achieve sexual gratification or whatever, but have no intentions whatsoever of carrying out such behavior in actual practice. That said, if I have struck a particular fantasy of yours, read and enjoy.

CHARACTERS:

Fran (Francine) Post ... female lead character, twenty-one, home from college for the summer
Frank Post ... male lead character, eighteen, brother of Olive


My brother. Frank. Frank Post. He used to be a little snot, a real pain in the ass little snot. That's back when he was between the ages of five and about fourteen or fifteen. He'd tease me relentlessly, walk in on me and my date as we were making out and yell, "Naughty, naughty," or "Naughty Frannie," or his favorite as he got older, "Get a room," before zipping up the stairs to his own room.

But there was more to my relationship with my brother than that. Because both parents worked and were not home much, it was I that patched him up when he came home, bawling from a beating by a bully. I was the one to hold him when he cried about a broken toy or dropped ice-cream cone. Though he was only three years younger, I pretty much looked after him.

There's more to the Frank and Frannie names as well. Mother is Florence, Dad is Fred. I guess they liked the alliteration, because I got named Francine and three years later came Frank. Most everyone just calls me Fran--both at home and at school.

But, back to Frank. I said, "used to be" a snot. That's because things have changed. When Frank entered high school a freshman my senior year, he got involved in sports right away and other school activities that put us on different schedules at home. He frequently had early morning practices and he usually went to his room to study right after supper. He started dating his junior year.

But the positive part of our relationship remained and if he had problems, he came to me. I was still his big sister "confident."

Frank was tall, thin, and gangly. He was definitely a late bloomer physically as well as emotionally. He was long past that snotty stage. He had become quite mature and level headed.

Frank's eighteenth birthday was in February. He graduated high school at the end of May. Our parents left for Europe two weeks later for a three month visit with relatives in different countries and to just sight see in between visits. That left Frank and me to hold down the fort at home.

I'd left home in Ohio a week after my high school graduation to go to California for my freshman year at UCLA and a part time job my Aunt lined up for me. That meant I'd not seen Frank over that time until I got home two days before Mom and Dad left. I'd been home just a week. I'd be home 'til our parents got back just before the fall term was to begin at UCLA.

Frank was on his own while I was away at college and I wondered how he had handled that situation.

I soon found out what a difference my three years away from home had wrought with Frank. Though he had a ways to go yet, he had matured quite a lot through his junior summer and senior school year. He grew a lot taller than I'd of ever believed. His frame filled out to "Oh my God he's gorgeous" proportions. He was even quite suave and pleasant to be around. Where ever did he learn that?

It was just a week later on Friday night. Frank just lost it and had the next thing to a physical and mental breakdown. He came into the house just after midnight as I sat by the fireplace reading a good romance novel. I almost didn't recognize him he looked so bad.

"Frank? Oh, Frank! Dear God, Frank, what happened?"

"J-J-Joleen."

"What about Joleen, Frank? What happened?"

"Diamond."

"You gave Joleen a diamond?"

"Y-y-yes,"

"And that turned you into a dazed and bumbling zombie?"

"No."

"Well what did then?"

Frank dropped to his knees and wailed through tears.

"D-d-died."

"Who died, Frank?"

"J-J-Joleen."

"Dear God, Frank, what happened?

"S-SSS-Sue and J-Joleen--t-train wreck--hospital--d-dead."

Frank crashed to the floor in a dead faint or worse. I had a real struggle to get him into the spare bedroom on the main floor. I'd never have gotten him up the stairs to his own room by myself. He may have been younger, but he was a full head taller than I. He also outweighed me by a lot and was dead weight to maneuver.

I finally managed to get him sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to hang on to him with my left hand while my right hand turned down the overs. I let him flop backwards onto the bed with his legs hanging over the side. I then had quite a time getting him undressed.

When I got him down to his boxers, I had a decision to make. The last I knew, Frank normally slept naked; but did I dare remove his boxers? Well, the fact that his penis suddenly poked out the fly of those boxers made my decision for me. I pulled the boxers off.

Oh my God, Frank, I didn't know your cock was so gorgeous. What a stud weapon.

I laid Frank out and got the sheet along with a light blanket up to his shoulders. Then I pulled up an arm chair beside the bed and sat down. I pulled his near side hand from under the covers and held it.

 
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