My sister Beth and I grew up on a farm in Indiana. Living out in the country was pretty much a dull and restricted sort of life for teenagers. Since we had to ride the school bus, we had no opportunity to participate in extracurricular school activities--it was off to school in the morning and back home right school was out. This schedule cut down on our opportunities for dating, too, since it gave neither of us much chance to develop any kind of serious friendships or romantic relations with others our age. This wasn't that much of a problem to me--I was shy around girls, and being tall and skinny without much in the way of redeeming good looks, I probably would have had a hard time getting dates anyway. Sis, though, was different. She was pretty. Well, in fact, she was more than pretty, she was downright beautiful. Petite at five-foot-two and 100 pounds, with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a figure that could have easily gotten her elected to cheerleader, Beth could have had almost any boy in school if she had the opportunity and set her mind to it.

Beth and I never played "doctor" or "you-show-me-yours-and- I'll-show-you-mine" games. Oh, we sometimes talked about sex, but we never went beyond that point. Our parents were very strict, and discussion or mention of sexual subjects was a family taboo. That home atmosphere, together with a natural shyness we both seemed to have, prevented us from any type of overt sexual exploration with each other.

This is not to say I wasn't interested in sex, because I was. The truth was that I stayed horny most of the time. Since I had no opportunities to get rid of my horniness by dating and having sex with girls, I relieved myself by masturbation. Invariably, it was Beth I fantasized about when beating off. Even though I had never seen Beth nude, I had seen her in a bathing suit down at the creek and in shorts and halter around the house, so I could develop good mental pictures of what a naked Beth might look like. These pictures filled my mind as I played my solitary sexual games.

One day, though, when I was sixteen and Beth fifteen, I decided the mental pictures were not enough--I wanted to see in real life what Beth looked like without any clothes. Since Beth never went around the house unclothed, I could do this only by peeking through the keyhole in the bathroom when she was taking a shower. One evening our parents were out in the barn when Beth went into the bathroom and I decided to take advantage of the opportunity. I waited until the shower started running and then went and stooped by the door and looked through the keyhole. One of the floor boards outside the bathroom squeaked loudly when I stepped on it and I hoped Beth didn't hear it. Apparently she didn't because she began to take the towel from around her body. Just one second more and I would be able to see Beth's lovely body. That second didn't come, though, because Dad shouted at me at just this time--yelling and raising hell all over the place. Dad had come into the house without my hearing and caught me in the act of playing Peeping Tom.

Both my parents shamed me in front of Beth and threatened a severe beating if I ever pulled a stunt like that again. This absolutely and completely embarrassed me, and I was almost afraid to look Beth in the eye. She never mentioned it, though, and acted as if everything were okay. Not once, in later life was the subject ever brought up. Not once, either, did I ever try again to peep at Beth.

Beth and I both finished growing up. I went to college and so did Beth. After we finished college, I got a job in Los Angeles and Beth in Philadelphia. We saw each other only on visits back to the farm, and gradually we drifted apart, with occasional letters being our only contact.

Neither of us married. I don't know what reason Beth had for staying single, but my reason was shyness around girls and a rather plain appearance. Also, in my mind the ideal girl was one just like Beth, and I could never find a girl that measured up to her standards. We may have no longer been close to each other, but Beth was still very much in my mind. In my pleasure fantasies, it was still Beth I pictured. She was my standard for female perfection and was the subject of all my masturbatory dreams. I continued to keep a big-as- life picture in my mind of how she would have looked if I had been able to see her drop that towel those years before.

Mom and Dad were killed in a car accident, and Beth and I buried them in a cemetery near the farm. We didn't want to sell the farm house because it held so many warm memories for us, so we kept the house and several acres around it and sold the rest of the farm. The property had substantially accrued in value, and we each got a good sum of money from its sale.

Beth had been writing on a part-time basis and was pretty good at it, having sold several magazine articles. She decided that the money from the property sale would give her the independence to quit her job and take up writing full- time. She also decided that the farm house would be an ideal place for her to live while pursuing this career. This would be a good arrangement for both of us--the house would be occupied and maintained Beth would have a comfortable place to live. She offered to pay me rent on my half of the house, but I laughed her out of the idea, promising to make up for it by coming to visit her often enough to lay claim to my portion.

Several months passed without our seeing each other. We wrote often, though, our friendship being renewed by our recent mutual experiences. In every letter she invited me to come visit, but my schedule never seemed to allow it. Finally, though, I got a breather in my work and decided to take some vacation--two whole weeks to go back home to the farm, laze around, and visit with Beth.

I arrived at the farm on a Saturday afternoon. It was an exceptionally warm May day, with the sun beating down and the temperature in the high 80s. When I drove up, Beth was out working in her garden. She had her back turned to me when I first got there and was bending over some plants. All she had on was a pair of brief running shorts and a halter that was little more than a skimpy bra. I was presented with a picture of the most stunning female backside I could ever recall seeing. Beth's square shoulders sloped downward to a narrow waist and then curved out into perfect round, firm buttocks. She was still a sylph of a girl, as petite and well-shaped as she was when we were in high school. The only way she might have changed was in her breasts: they seemed even larger and more full than they were then. <And why not, she was a more mature woman than she was then, and her body would have grown even more mature> I thought to myself.

Seeing her like that flooded my mind with memories of our teenage years together. She was still as beautiful as she was then, was still the perfect specimen of femininity. All my fantasies came rushing back to me and caused my face to flush in embarrassment at myself. <Jimmy, just because you're a thirty-four-year-old virgin doesn't give you license to lust after your sister> I thought angrily to myself.

These thoughts were quickly swept away, though. Beth had heard me drive in and stood up and turned to me. <It just isn't fair for a guy to have a sister as beautiful as Beth> I ruefully told myself. And beautiful she was. Still no more than 100 pounds, with hair pulled back into a pony tail, shorts clinging tightly to her flaring hips, and a fair amount of cleavage showing above her well-filled halter, she could have passed for a teenager.

When Beth saw it was me, she smiled and gave little pleased laugh. She rushed out of the garden and ran up to where I was standing by the car. At almost a dead run, she ran into my arms, pushing me back against the car. She put her arms around my neck and hugged me tightly. With her pushing me against the car, I could feel her breasts against my chest and her hips pressing against mine. My reaction was immediate--almost instantaneously my cock swelled and filled the front of my pants. <My God, what if she notices! She will think I'm some sort of a pervert, getting a hard-on with his own sister> I thought.

She pulled back and gave me light kiss on the lips. "Jimmy, Jimmy," she murmured, "you've finally come to give your lonesome little sister a visit. But just look at me! I wasn't expecting you until later, and here I am in my work clothes, covered with dirt and sweat."

"Beth, you still look good, no matter what you wear," I said softly. <And does she ever!> I thought, noticing the way her nipples made little points in the front of her halter.

"Jimmy, you're still just as sweet ever," she said, her face flushing slightly. "But let's not stand out here in this heat. Get your stuff and come on into the house where it's cool."

I opened the car trunk, lifted out my suitcases, and followed Beth into the house. With her only a few steps ahead of me, I couldn't help but notice her shapely behind. Each buttock was firm and made little tick-tocking movements in her shorts as she walked. Her legs were tanned and had very good muscle tone. I decided that she must do a lot of gardening and other outdoor activities to keep herself in such good shape.

"You're going to use your old room," Beth said. "I kept my old room and converted Mom and Dad's room to my writing studio. Come on, I'll help you unpack."

My room was much like I remembered it. A floor-to-ceiling window, big pine dresser, and a double bed. I put my suit- cases up on the bed and we took clothing out and put it in the dresser and closet. As I turned away from the closet, I noticed Beth putting my Jockey shorts in the drawer. She was gently rubbing them, right across the front opening. Beth saw me looking and a light blush flowed across her face. "Boy, your clothes sure got wrinkled in the suitcase, didn't they," she said with an embarrassed laugh.

After we got all the clothes unpacked and put away and the suitcases put in the closet, Beth said, "Jimmy, you must be tired after that long drive. Why don't you lie down and rest while I go take a shower to get rid of all my sweat and dirt." She turned and left the room, giving me another look at her magnificent ass and her buttocks making their see- sawing motion under the thin fabric of her shorts.

I pulled off my shoes and stretched out on the bed. Closing my eyes, I tried to relax. At just about this time, I heard the door to the bathroom close and water start to run. The sound made me recall the time I tried to peep at Beth in the shower. The memory of seeing Beth about to drop her towel and display her body in all its splendor had such an erotic effect on me that I became as rock-hard as I had been those many years ago.

I remembered, too, that it was just the two of us in the house. There were no parents to inhibit actions or yell about what they considered improper. It fully dawned on me that there wasn't anyone to stop me if I wanted to get rid of my years of frustration over failing to see Beth nude. Without another thought, almost without volition, I got off the bed and walked down the hall to the bathroom. The keyhole was still there, and I could hear the shower running behind the door. Beth was in that shower and I could finally realize my dream of seeing her nude. The shower stopped then and it became quiet. She would soon be stepping out of the shower, wet and dripping, with all her body available for my sight. Quickly I stepped in front of the door, preparing to stoop and look through the keyhole. Without warning, the floor emitted a loud squeaking noise. Just as it had done those many years ago, the board in front of the door squeaked loudly enough to hear all over the house.

Talk about deja vu! All the shame I had felt as a teenager came rushing back to me. I almost looked around to see if my father were there to lambast me. I was filled with embarrassment--I knew Beth must have heard the noise and that she would know exactly what it meant. I stumbled back to my room, shut the door, and laid down on the bed. Beth hadn't said anything the time it happened before; maybe she would just ignore this time too.

In a few minutes there was a soft knock on the door. "Jimmy?" Beth's voice came in a whisper through the door.

"Yeah, Beth, come on in." <Well, here's where I catch it. May as well take it like a man.>

Beth opened the door slowly and stepped into the room. She was just like she was when I saw her through the keyhole those many years ago, covered only with a towel that extended from the top of her breasts to just below her pussy. I wouldn't have thought it possible, but she was even more lovely than when had been a teenager. My embarrassment faded with the vision, and I was filled with an overwhelming feeling of love and desire for Beth.

I expected her to be angry, but she showed no sign of anger. Instead of her eyes being angry and glaring, they were warm and soft and there was a look of wonderment on her face. In a soft, little voice, Beth said, "Jimmy, were you peeping through the keyhole at me?"

"I was going to, but the board squeaked, and I knew you heard me, and I got ashamed, and all I did was come back to my room, and I never did look," I managed to stammer out.

"You REALLY wanted to look at my body? You wanted to look when we were kids and now you STILL want to look?" she asked in that little-girl voice.

All I could do was drop my head and nod it a little. <She must really think I'm some kind of a weirdo to have kept such a fixation for so many years. She'll probably insist I leave and never come back again.>

"Jimmy, I heard the board squeak back when you tried to look at me before. I knew you were peeping and I was glad. I was going to take off the towel and let you see all of me, except Dad stopped the show. Well, there aren't any parents around now, Jimmy, and you can look all you want." Slowly, she untucked the end of the towel from the top of her breasts and loosened it around her. She shrugged if off to the floor and she stood there in tableau, completely nude.