Chapter 1

I can still remember the day it happened as if it was only yesterday, I had just come home from work (I work as a waitress at the local coffee shop) and I was excited because it was Friday night and I had plans to go out with a new guy I had met earlier this week. Thomas seemed like a really nice guy and he was very handsome so I was looking forward to getting to know this guy and see where it would take us.

Before I get too much further into my story, I guess I should tell you a little about myself. My name is Karen Duwalt and I live in Madison, a small town just north of St. Louis with my mother and father and older brother, Michael. I am nineteen years old, 5’1” tall, with black hair halfway down my back and green eyes.

I rushed home from work and after a hurried “Hi Mom!”, I ran straight to my room to get ready for my date. Thomas said he would pick me up around 7:00 pm, so I didn’t have a lot of time to waste. I quickly got undressed and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

Dammit, Michael! You left your dirty clothes in the bathroom again! I thought to myself as I entered the bathroom and spotted the pile of dirty clothes beside the tub. Michael had this bad habit of leaving his clothes wherever they fell and it was usually either in his bedroom or in the bathroom. Our home had two bathrooms – one for Mom and Dad and one for me and my brother. And my brother used our bathroom as his own dirty clothes hamper!

With a heavy sigh of disgust at my brother’s lack of responsibility, I picked up his dirty clothes intending to take them the ten feet or so across the hall to the laundry room. But when I picked them up, something completely unexpected happened.

I had gathered his shirt, t-shirt, and pants in my arms and reached for his boxers when my hand touched something cold and slimy. “Eww, gross!” I said as I recoiled my hand in shocked surprise. But then I reached down to pick up the dirty garment and, for reasons I still can’t explain, I looked at the milky-clear jelled substance in his shorts.

It looked innocuous enough ... kind of like mayonnaise that had been left out too long. My curiosity stirred, I touched it lightly with my fingertips. It was slick and slimy, but not altogether unpleasant. However, what struck me then was the faint smell I detected. I raised the garment closer and took a sniff.

It was a moment that would change my life and define who and what I was to become.

As I stood there in the bathroom holding my older brother’s sex-soiled boxers to my nose and inhaling the musky scent, something inside me awoke. I felt a stirring deep inside me and my pulse increased, my breathing got shallow, and I felt a familiar but unexpected twinge in my pussy.

I was getting turned on sniffing my brother’s underwear! I knew it was wrong, that this was the act of some kind of sick, twisted pervert. But perhaps the wickedness of it all was part of the appeal. I was breaking about every taboo I had been brought up with. Yet this was so exciting and sexy that I couldn’t bring myself to stop!

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m no prude by any measure. I’ve had my share of boyfriends and seen a cock or two in my time. I lost my cherry at sixteen to a high school football player two years older than me and I haven’t looked for it since. I enjoy sex as much as the next girl and maybe a tad more. But this was a twist that I wasn’t expecting!

Almost without realizing what was happening to me, I found myself with my hand in my panties, the only clothes I was wearing as I prepared to take my shower. I rubbed my dampening pussy with one hand and held his boxers to my nose with the other as I breathed in Michael’s intoxicating scent.

The whole scene made me lightheaded, and I had to sit down on the toilet as I tried to sort out what I was feeling. I rubbed my sopping pussy vigorously as I took in his aroma, quickly bringing myself to a thunderous orgasm – one of the best I’d ever had! I was too weak and wobbly to walk much less stand up long enough to take my shower, so I sat there for several minutes until I calmed down enough to continue.

I finally managed to get my shower taken and get ready for my date, although honestly, I don’t remember a whole lot about it. While I may have been out with Thomas physically, my mind was back home in that bathroom. I couldn’t get over how incredibly turned on I had gotten sniffing my brother’s cummed-in shorts.

I thought about what had happened and what it meant. Was I actually a closet pervert and didn’t know it until now? What would my family think if – God forbid – they would find out? St. Louis is right smack dab in the middle of the Bible Belt and people here are ultra-conservative; they don’t go in for the wild sexual kinks and quirks found in more free-thinking and adventuresome places. They certainly wouldn’t understand something like this!

Yet as sick and twisted as this was, I couldn’t help thinking about it and getting excited about the whole wicked, depraved thing. Whether it was the wickedness or the danger or what, this new kink of mine was all-consuming!

I knew my older brother had had several girlfriends and had even had sex there at the house (Mom and Dad didn’t know it, though!) and I had noticed him noticing me a little more now that I was older, but I thought nothing of it at the time.

So I wasn’t too worried about the fact that he had blasted his boxers in the bathroom. I wasn’t even mad at him anymore for leaving them there for me to find. What disturbed me was my own reaction to finding his “present”.

The events of the day haunted me for the rest of the evening and into the night. I replayed the scene over and over in my head, and I don’t mind telling you that I got just as worked up as I was that first time. That night brought several rocking orgasms as I thought about what I had learned about myself. There wasn’t much sleep for me that night, but I did greet the morning with a satisfied smile on my face!

I was able to get through the next day with a modicum of self-control – at least until dinner time. Michael had grabbed himself a quick breakfast consisting of a cinnamon roll and a glass of milk that morning, so he was gone by the time I got to the breakfast table, thankfully!

But dinnertime that night was the first chance for Michael and me to sit at the table together. And while he wasn’t aware of what had transpired, I most certainly was. I couldn’t help but shoot him furtive glances, looking away quickly when he caught me, too embarrassed and self-conscious to lock eyes with him for even a second.

Not much was said that evening at the table, which was a little odd for us since the table is where we usually caught up with one another and talked about our day. Mom, Dad, and Michael were all up for chatting, but I was too afraid of my own voice betraying what was constantly on my mind lately.

After dinner, I decided that it would be prudent if I got away from the family for a little bit before my mouth got me in serious trouble. So I decided it was a good time to take a shower and went into the bathroom to try and cool down. But my plan was thwarted almost immediately when I spotted a pile of dirty clothes on the bathroom floor again.

But this time it was excitement, not aggravation, that I felt when I saw the crumpled clothes. I knew by looking at them whose they were, and I went straight over and rummaged through them until I found the object I was looking for.

I was not disappointed in what I found there either ... Michael had shot a load in his underwear again and I was lucky enough to find them before Mom washed them.

I brought them to my nose, inhaling deeply the musky, pungent scent of male sex. And just like before, the smell of my brother’s “gift” was too much for me to resist. My hand went straight to my dripping pussy and I fingered myself to a crashing orgasm. But this time, just as I was finishing, I heard the distinctive “click” of the door as the latch closed!

Oh my God! I thought as I clamped my hand over my mouth to stifle any sound I might make. Who had that been? Was it Mom or Dad? Dad probably would have interrupted me, asking just what the hell I was doing. Mom, on the other hand, would have shut the door a lot harder, ashamed of what I was doing. Then another even more alarming thought occurred to me ... what if it was Michael who had come in? What if he saw what I was doing with his clothes? How much did he see?

I went straight to my room after my shower and stayed there the rest of the night. I was afraid if I came out to be with the family, the first person who spoke to me would see my beet-red face and know something was up. Mom came into my room after a while and I made up an excuse that I wasn’t feeling well and was just taking it easy. She bought my flimsy excuse and I was left alone for the rest of the night.

However, later that night after everyone had gone to bed, I was laying there in my bed, still scared to death that someone caught me with my kink. How would I face the family after this? Would they even want to face me, to acknowledge me as a member of the family?

Suddenly, I heard a soft knocking at my door. I pulled the blankets up tight around my chin and didn’t make a peep. I mentally kicked myself in the ass for leaving the light on in my room and silently willed it to turn off so that whoever was knocking would think I was asleep.

“Sis? Are you asleep?” Michael said, cautiously peeking around the door.

“No,” I said. He had seen me so there was no use in pretending.

“Can I come in ... and talk?” he asked quietly.

“I suppose. Are Mom and Dad still up?” I asked.

“No, they’ve gone to bed. They think I’m in bed too, but I wanted to talk to you,” he said, coming in and shutting the door. He walked over and sat at the foot of the bed.

I didn’t say anything at first, wanting to hear what this was all about before deciding how to respond.

“Karen, I ... I saw what you were doing ... in the bathroom,” he started. Right there my heart dropped to the floor. He was the one who caught me!

“But I’m not going to tell Mom and Dad, don’t worry about that,” he finished.

“You’re not?” I asked unbelievingly. Michael and I had always had a rocky relationship, with me being the girl of the family and him being older than me, there was always a competition for our parent’s affection and attention. To learn that he knew this terrible secret and wasn’t going to use it against me was almost too good to be true!

“No, I’m not,” he said.

“Why not?” I asked, now getting a bit suspicious of my brother.