Chapter 1

I had an opportunity to visit my sister last fall when an oddball assignment took me to Texas. I don't usually like to leave New York in the fall. To my way of thinking it's the nicest time of the year to be in the city, but I accepted anyway, as I had not seen Helen for some time.

My work as a senior editor on the staff of Pet World normally confined me to the office, but occasionally, just to get out and around, I would take a story, especially if it was of an unusual nature.

My sister lived in Irving, a suburb of Dallas on the Forth Worth side, and I had never visited her there before. Helen had lived in New Jersey before her husband was transferred, when we used to visit each other quite regularly. I would spend weekends in Pompton Lakes, and during the week Helen would come into the city and stay at my place overnight.

We had always been close, Helen and I, as close as any two sisters could be, even though Helen was several years older than I, and for a time after she moved to Texas I felt her absence keenly.

At twenty-eight I was still unmarried. Helen had married a year or two out of high school but had never had any children. Her husband, Jack, had been working for years with the same company, one of the big tire concerns, as a salesman.

When I knew I was going to be visiting them, I tried to visualize Jack. He was rather a nondescript type and hard to remember in your mind's eye after you hadn't seen him for a while. He was a pleasant enough person, however, and I was certain that Helen had made a happy marriage in many respects.

Helen was at the airport to meet me when I arrived in Dallas. I first saw her waving madly from behind the little fence separating the visitors from the departure area. She was wearing dark glasses, and had on a light blue cotton dress. She seemed overjoyed that I had come to see her.

"Oh, Bea, I'm so happy you've come. You look grand," she said, kissing me on the cheek.

"Never thought I'd make it to Texas, did you?" I said jokingly.

We stood there just looking at each other for a full thirty seconds, people milling past us. She had gotten a little chubby, I thought, and I wondered how I appeared to her.

Finally, my arm around her waist, I walked her over to the luggage area.

"How's Jack?" I asked.

"Same old Jack," she replied. "He's out of town for a few days. Houston and Galveston. I hope he comes back before you have to leave. How long do you have? You didn't say."

"A couple of days or so," I said. "I have to visit Denton, as you know."

"It isn't far, Bea," she said quickly, "and you can use my car. Maybe I could go with you," she added hopefully, and then rather guardedly, "unless it's some big deal."

"I promise to tell you all," I said, reassuring her with a smile. Close as we were, Helen and I understood I had always been the more reticent one when it came to my private life. Helen, on the other hand, had always confided in me her innermost thoughts and secrets.

My suitcase arrived finally and we walked out through the terminal. Helen drove very fast on the way home. The freeway system looked quite efficiently designed. The city of Dallas, too, had a shiny compactness to it as I observed its skyline.

"Didn't know you had so many tall buildings," I remarked.

"Why, Ma'am," she drawled in imitation of a Texas cowpoke, "didn't you all know everything's big in Texas."

We laughed at that, and she told me a slightly dirty joke having to do with big Texans. It put me in mind of what I knew had been a personal problem of hers.

"You still have that thing about Jack?" I asked her after we had been quiet for a few moments. I could see her blush and turn to look out the window to her left. She did not answer, and I dropped it.

It was a sore point, but occasionally she had wanted to talk about it, had even for a while visited a psychiatrist in an effort to overcome her feelings.

It seems that at the time she married she had built up in her mind a mental image of what a man's erect penis should look like. She had visions on her wedding night, I guess of some enormous thing stuffing itself into her, and was fully, in fact, eagerly awaiting to receive such an organ.

As luck would have it, Jack turned out to be a man with a very small one. "No bigger than your index finger," she had told me the first time, scarcely concealing the disappointment in her voice.

She had told me more than once of the times they had had intercourse when she had felt so empty, so "unfilled" as she would describe it. She had loved Jack, and had realized it was silly to let it bother her, and had tried to overlook it.

The doctors had told her it was all in her mind, that the size of the penis had nothing to do with it. Her psychiatrist had once tried hypnosis. For a time Jack had even used a rubber extender while they were having intercourse to fatten and lengthen out his tool, but the extender was a flop, too.

"It doesn't have any blood in it," Helen had told me after it had been tried out a few times. "I know it just isn't alive." After a few drinks she had been able to stand the thing, however, and on those occasions had consented to letting him use it in her.

During our discussions I had always been at a loss as to how to console her. It would have been easy just to agree with the doctors, but in my own heart I knew I would have been lying to my sister. I had been and still am single and had been reluctant to pour out to her what I had known from my own experience.

Also, I had not wanted in any way to have appeared to be criticizing her husband. Sometimes those chickens come home to roost, and I had not wanted to risk alienating my sister then or now,

It was true, though, that the size of a man's penis makes a difference. The medical books and sex manuals were all written by men. Men would naturally pooh-pooh the idea as it had too great a potential for pointing the finger of inadequacy at many of them.

My own experience told me that there can be nothing like the feeling of depth and contentment, of total repletion, on being filled with a healthy-sized organ. And what more marvelous things happen when it moves inside you!

The city of Irving turned out to be a residential community, rather flat like much of Texas, with neat houses and trim yards, and none of the homes looking too terribly old. We pulled up into the driveway of one, and I could hear a dog barking.

"You still have Clyde!" I exclaimed, remembering the tricolored collie they had owned in New Jersey.

For some reason my sister blushed a florid red as she got out her side of the car. "Yes," she said. "Why not?"

"Why, I'll be glad to see him," I said, hopping out. "Good old Clyde!" I ran to the front door and could hear him jumping up against it alternately barking and whining and scratching at the wood.

Helen opened the door, and he bounded out rushing between us. He got to the sidewalk, wheeled around, and came back. He was panting madly, and jumped up, first at Helen, and then at me, sniffing curiously.

"Get down, Clyde!" Helen was shouting.

Sniffing at me, he suddenly froze when it appeared he was in the area of my crotch. He brought his nose closer to my dress, and I backed away instinctively.

"Clyde!" Helen screamed, grabbing him by the fur. "That's enough." It took all her strength to pull him back toward the door, but she seemed determined to get him back inside.

"It's all right, Helen," I said, feeling a little guilty for having backed off. "He's just happy." I followed them inside the house.

She had taken him to the basement door and had shut him inside. She was huffing, out of breath. "He can be so exuberant, Bea. You'll have to pay no attention to him," she said. Flushing, she dropped her shoulder bag on the sofa and flopped down herself.

I sat down in a chair. It was a warm day, but cool in the house. Evidently the central air conditioning was still connected. I stood up again to remove the coat I was wearing.

"He may do some strange things," Helen was saying, still flushing. Her eyes were curiously avoiding mine. "Just make him mind. He'll stop." She looked about the living room. "Well," she said, changing the subject, "let's get you settled. I'll get your bag." She got up from the sofa, and walked over to a doorway off the living room. "First, I'll show you your room. "

I rose and followed her into a short halfway that led first to a small sewing room on the right. The second door on the right was a bedroom. Across the hall from it was a half bath.

"You'll have to bathe upstairs, Sis, but there's a john here and a sink," she said, turning on the light in the bathroom.

"Okay by me," I said. The small bedroom looked quite cozy. It held a double bed, a night table beside it, and a small chest of drawers. There was a full length mirror on the inside of the closet door. I flopped on the bed while Helen got my bag.

I lay there thinking how nice it was to be waited on for a change, and it was true. I had always allowed my older sister to wait on me ever since I could remember. I had missed the attention since she had moved to Texas, and it came to me lying there just how much.

"Here we are," she said, coming in with my grip. She set it down and came over to the bed, seating herself on the edge. "I'm so glad to see you, Bea." She leaned over and kissed me lightly on the cheek. Her breath smelled so clean. Her eyes were misty, and I wanted to reach up and embrace her.

"I keep hoping you'll move back to New York," I said wistfully.

The thought struck her as a remote one. "Perhaps," she said after a moment. She patted me on the thigh. "I'll let you relax now. Take a nap, sweetie. I'll get some dinner going, and we'll have a long chat when you wake up." She rose, adjusting the belt on her dress.

Feeling the belt at both sides of her waist, she took in a deep breath, and I was given visual reminder of the amplitude of her breasts. Helen's development there had always been a source of envy while we were growing up.

I remembered back when I was only just beginning to show there myself, watching her take baths, and later begging my mother to tell me if mine were going to be that big when I was in high school.

My own breasts had never quite made it, not to the extent of Helen's anyway, and I felt a twinge as some of the original feeling of disappointment came over me.

She left, closing the door behind her, and I sat up to take off my shoes. My feet and legs were tired. I reached up under my skirt and pulled the panty hose down over my legs. The cooled air in the room felt good on my bare legs, and I walked around the room letting it play over them.

I took off the dress and hung it in the closet, looking at myself in the mirror. A full length mirror was something of a treat as I did not have one at home, and I gazed at the full figure before me as if for the first time.

Reaching behind me with both hands I unclasped the bra and allowed my breasts their full freedom. They were big enough, I supposed. Some slight amount of curve on both sides did protrude beyond the line of my rib cage when they were viewed from the front, which was more than some girls could say.

I still had a waistline, too. At twenty-eight I didn't need to wear a girdle yet. I turned sideways at the mirror and ran my flattened palm down my tummy. Perfect, I thought.

Running my hand down inside my panties, I scratched at the matted hair. Farther down it felt a little sweaty, so I removed the panties and went back to the bed. I lay down on my back with legs spread and my knees up in the air, letting it all air out.

It itched down there, and absently I ran a finger down along the lips slightly parting them. I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew I was dreaming.

Something was happening to me down there. It felt warm and wet. I was conscious of the strangest movements as if a dozen fragile fingertips were playing upon it with just the right amount of pressure. At the same time it was throbbing wildly, and I knew I was going to have an orgasm.

I guess I began to gasp in my sleep for I was conscious of making sounds. The feeling was building in intensity to the point where I had to wake up, which I did suddenly with a start, and before I had reached a climax.

It took me a few seconds to realize what had been happening. I noticed Clyde right away, his feet up on the foot of the bed, his tongue hanging out, but I could not associate the dog immediately with what had brought me almost to the point of coming. My vulva was aflame and tingling madly.

Clyde cocked his head to one side, closed his mouth briefly, and stretched his head forward into my crotch. Instantly I knew what he had been doing and got up quickly onto my knees.

"Clyde, you old rascal," I said, grabbing him by the scruff around his ears with both hands. "You devil, you. What do you think you're doing?"

He licked forward at my face greedily. I noticed his pink thing had begun to come out of its sheath, and he was humping slightly at the end of the bed.

Good heavens, I thought. He means to do me as if I were some bitch in heat. Is it possible? The thought of the big furry Collie doing it to me raced through my brain. I was already hot. Dare I get down on the floor on all fours and see if he would?

The thought just about drove me wild. I had to fight the feeling off. What if Helen should walk in? What on earth would I say to her?

I tried hard to think of the utter preposterousness of the whole idea in order to bring me back to my senses. It occurred to me that if I got my clothes back on, it might help me recover my sanity.

I jumped off the bed. My panties were lying on the floor. Clyde was already up on his hind feet pawing at my thighs as I kept turning to keep him in front of me, but I had to kneel down slightly in order to reach for the panties. He was on top of me in an instant, humping away instinctively. I was up in a second.