My sister backed away after our first kiss. I mean, real honest-to-god kiss. Not a sisterly peck. Full, wet, even a bit of tongue. Me, I’m just hanging on to dear life. My soon to leave for college sister is kissing her sixteen-year-old brother in a very intimate way. She said it was ‘PRACTICE’.

Me, I’m Rick, Richard. Don’t call me Ricky ... unless you are a girl. Then you can call me anything you like, ‘cause at least you recognize I exist. At least at that moment.

Now understand, I don’t go around kissing my sister, at least not like that. In fact, she can attest that I was a complete pain in the butt, that is until I turned 16 and she, at 18, was about to leave for some college.

Why the kiss? Well, I have to start at the beginning. See, growing up, we were pretty close, for brother and sister, I guess. Older sister, younger brother. The brat brother, always trying to hang around her friends, while I and my friends make a nuisance of ourselves.

But all that started to change as we got older.

By the time I was 13 or 14, girls became something other than sissies with coodies to torment. I actually started to take baths and brush my hair and my teeth. And my dumb old sister became a Girl, with a capital G.

I still teased her all the time, but looking back, those teases had turned from sibling rivalry into innuendo-laced taunts.

“STOP IT, Ricky!” she yelled for the umpteenth time.

I had snuck up behind her and grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off the ground as she squirmed and fussed.

“Let ME GO! I’m telling mom!”

By 14, I was already bigger and stronger than her, even though I was still rather a wimp of a guy. But she was petite, maybe five-one and a good ten pounds lighter, even though seventeen. Where she used to be able to pin me to the floor, that had now turned around.

“Oh boohoo, Claire, I’m sooo scared!”

She kicks back as I laugh, while she almost gets away. I spin her around, laughing and only half realizing that in her sports clothes, I’m holding her by her bare waist. She wiggles free, turns and attacks me, tickling my sides.

“Stop it, Ok I give, I give!” I yell as I was trying to do the same to her.

But my laughter is too much, making my sides ache. So, I just grab her in a bear hug. For a split second, we are nose to nose, her eyes fiery with anger and mischief mixed together. I let her go as mom comes in and tells me to quit teasing my sister for the umpteenth time.

She huffs away, turning at the last moment, giving me a sassy look, sticking out her tongue, and shooting me a bird. I watched her butt swinging, purposefully taunting, disappearing up the stairs.

Days later, she pays me back by nonchalantly prancing into the bathroom as I was standing there pissing. At first, I am totally indignant and yelling...

“Claire! Get Out! Can’t you see I’m peeing?”

She ignores me, but as she walks behind me, she purposefully pinches my side.

“Yuck! Mom! Ricky’s pissing all over the floor!”

“You made me do it! I’m not cleaning it up.”

“Oh yes you are buster, or I’m telling dad!”

I know I’m going to lose that battle. See, she’s daddy’s girl. At least, that is what I always kid her about.

“Daddy’s girl! Daddy’s girl!”

She just huffs and flips a bird and throws some piece of underclothing into the hamper. Dad does lean towards her, always taking her side. Well, most of the time. The only thing he seems to control her at is dating. Even at 17, she hasn’t dated much. But, I think its more that she just hasn’t run into the right guy.

It’s not that she is bad looking, that’s an understatement. Petite size, that is, short and thin, she’s well proportioned. Really well proportioned. Ok, she’s my sister, but I still look. She’s not much into group sports, which is probably the biggest reason for her not meeting guys. But she does work out, run, skateboard, that kind of stuff. More than me. That’s for sure.

Oh, there is that one set of tights, she says they are yoga workout pants. But to me, they just make a guy want to grab her ... and I have. I spank her spandex covered ass, though more of sliding my hand across her than a real spank. Cop a feel.

“You like FEELING UP girl’s butts, Ricky?”

Another tickle fight ensues.

She is undeniably picky with guys, blowing them off. She told me if she wanted immaturity, she’s got a brother already. I think I’m mature for my age. Ok, maybe. However, she didn’t even get asked to the Prom, so dad quickly volunteered. At first, she was reluctant, but then her best friend said her father was taking her. At least I didn’t have to take her, I was only 13 then. Now at 14, almost 15, I might have actually thought about it. Just to see the other girls, of course.

A few days before the Prom, she asked for my help.

“Ricky, dance with me.”

“Say what? Dance? I don’t dance.”

Ok, I had done some dance lessons in Middle School, only because my mom wanted me to dance with my cousin Kim at my aunt’s wedding. Well, I wasn’t interested in dance, but I was interested in my cousin, thus I went to the classes, at least enough to keep from stumbling over her feet.

“Here,” she stood, taking my hand.

“No music?”

“Just steps. Here, let me show you.”

She proceeded to count off steps, turning and swaying. She was dressed in her typical shorts, tee-shirt and barefoot. She repeated several times, getting me to follow the count.

“All you have to do is just hold me and turn here.”

We start with her counting and doing her steps. I follow, holding her hands then turning her as she had requested. It took several attempts to get me to quit stepping on her feet and turning her as she wanted. Actually, many attempts. Finally, it starts to become smooth and I stop thinking about the dance steps and more about her. Even as my sister, she looks cute, watching her concentrate on her moves. She starts humming notes to a song as we dance. Now more confident, she adds extra steps and a spin. One hand on the small of her back and the other in her hand, we start swaying more as she hums. She comes closer to me and we are now close together, her body against mine. She had closed her eyes and I think she was dreaming about the upcoming Prom.

Her head lay onto my shoulder and our dance slows as we rocked together. Her arms are around my shoulders, so I put both my arms around her waist at her hips. My hand drifts downwards over butt, ok, I admit it, I was kinda taken by the mood. She doesn’t resist. She just sways in my arms and hums her song. I think it was the first time we ever treated each other decently.

Her head turns towards me, eyes still closed. Her lips are right there. Even at fourteen, ok, nearly fifteen, I wasn’t very adept at such things as kissing. I had kissed my cousin, but that’s a different story.

Well, I thought it would be funny to kiss her right then. So, I did. I wasn’t going for a little peck. I was going to give her a real kiss, well what I thought at the time a real kiss would be like. Real kisses would come later, I discovered. But this little smack, lips closed, lasted all of maybe two seconds before she opened her eyes and looked at me. Her eyes went from soft to shocked in seconds but then changed to this weird look like she was trying to figure out if this was a trick or not.

For me, the kiss did start as a joke, but by the time it was over and I was watching her reaction, I guess my expression had lost any kidding around. We didn’t kiss again. Instead, she pulled away, looked at me but still held my hand.

“You stinker! What are you up to? Tricking me?”

“Me? What? Hey, can’t a guy kiss his sister?”

“Not like THAT!”

“Like what?”

She leaned forward and she kissed me quite unsisterly and then shoved me away.

“Like THAT!”

With that, she turned and with a flare of indignancy, she marched away and upstairs.

Ok, what was that about? This one of those Love/Hate things?

Anyway, our lives seemed back to our normal sibling rivalry after that. The only thing that interrupted our routine was the night of her Prom.

Dad, mom, and I were waiting downstairs for her entrance. She had hogged our bathroom for a couple of hours but the moment she appeared, it was easy to see it was worth it. She had transformed from her usual ok sisterly look, into a beautiful young woman. Her prom dress was a saffron-like baby blue, sleeveless and nearly floor-length, smoothly curving over her breasts, waist, and hips. High heels added to her height and made her hips sway as she came down the steps. Her hair up, with a curl on one side of her face, dark eyeslashes, sparkles on her cheeks, pink lip gloss. A gold necklace, earrings, and bracelet finishing out.

Dad kissed her cheek and put on her wrist corsage. Mom and Dad both complimented her, taking photos. Me, I just stood there, watching her. Seeing my sister all grown up and beautiful. Before they left, she took my hand and kissed me, on the cheek.

I told her, “Wow!” and she giggled as they left.

Now I kinda wished I had gone with her. Ok, to see the other girls there, too. Maybe I will take more dance lessons.

Ok, anyway, moving on, there was this time when she was in the shower, taking her own sweet time. So I decided to just walk right into the bathroom as she had done to me in the past. I was planning to just walk in and take a piss right while she was in the shower. But the moment I came in, I heard something, heavy breathing. Her hand was flat against the fogged shower glass. I didn’t make a sound. I could see the shadow of her body arched backward. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she was doing. Holy fuck! She was masturbating! In the shower!

I was embarrassed, but also fourteen, thus I stayed. Her leg came up against the glass, obviously spreading her legs. That alone was enough for me to almost cum myself. My pants did get sticky and I had totally forgotten about peeing.

Suddenly, I heard little grunts and her shadowed leg and body jerked. I backed out as quickly as I could. This was heavy stuff. I had jerked off bunches of times, even a few in the shower, but I had NEVER thought about my sister doing that, too. It was likely that moment was what changed my perspective of her. We were both horny teens!

DOING IT

One evening, our parents were out at a dinner party while we both sat on our family room couch eating pizza and watching TV. She had graduated from high school a few months back and would be going off to college in just a couple of days.

“Rick...”

I knew something was up as she seldom called me ‘Rick’.

“I need your help.”

“Ah, what?”

She flipped off the TV remote control and looked at me.

“Hey, I was watching that!”

“I need you to practice with me.”

“Practice? Not more dancing?” remembering last year.

“Oh, no. Something else.”

“Well?”

“Don’t tell mom or dad. Actually, don’t tell ANYONE!”

“Sure.”

“Swear it!”

“Hey, I swear I won’t tell.”

She looked closely at me as if sizing up my verbal agreement. I figured she was just being weird or paranoid again. Always paranoid about her looks and her actions around others.

“Listen, I’m going to be going to college soon...”

“Duh, yes.”

I had suffered through endless family debates about colleges and sororities and dating and such. Dad wanted her to go to a community college, at least for the first couple of years. But she wanted to go halfway across the country to some fancy big college. Mom and Dad said no. She cried. Dad gave in with a compromise. The ‘big college’ ended up a smaller town liberal arts school about two hours away. She would live in the dorms but could still be home weekends.

“Rick.”

Again, I knew something important was up ... not ‘Ricky’.

“I NEED to PRACTICE ... kissing.”

I looked at her like she was nuts. You have to practice kissing? Boy did I know nothing. I told her she was nuts.

“You are nuts.”

She ignored.

She explained, “See, I’m going to be in a sorority. Don’t tell dad, Alpha Phi.”

“So?” I had no clue about sororities, other than Animal House, and I didn’t think that was what she was going into.

“See, they are ... experienced.”

“That’s nice.” I ignore her trying to get the remote.

She takes my arm and kisses me. Since I was absolutely not expecting that, it was a pretty fumbled kiss, even for my near-zero knowledge of kissing. She fusses and I roll my eyes. She moves closer to me.

“I know about you and Kim.”

That floored me. It had to be Kim that told her, I sure didn’t and no one else knew.

“I’m, inexperienced ... and I CAN’T come in there being...”

Kim, my first cousin, had been my first, well poorly executed first. Very poorly executed.