Mandy was two years older than me. Some of my friends didn’t get on with their sisters at all, but she was kind and funny and sweet, and was never mean to me. When I was little, she’d sometimes acted as a sort of second Mom to me, tending my scrapes and consoling me when I got upset about stuff. Looking back, I realize that I got pretty moody in my early teens, and she was the only one who could reliably pull me out of one of my funks. And she could always make me smile, even when I really didn’t want to. In short, I loved her to bits, and I always had.

I can still vividly remember the day that things changed for me. I’d been fifteen, and I’d tripped while fooling about with my buddies, badly grazing my knee. When I got home, Mom wasn’t about and Mandy looked after me. She was so gentle as she picked the bits of gravel out of the wound, calling me brave for not crying. The truth was that I could see down the front of her V-neck T-shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra and I’d been struck dumb by the beauty of her breasts. They were small but unbelievably perky, with small, dark brown nipples that for some reason were all hard. It was the first time I’d ever thought about Mandy in a sexual way, and I got such a boner. It wouldn’t be the last - either thought or boner.

Suddenly I found myself constantly noticing just how beautiful she was. Her sweet, heart-shaped face with big, intense blue eyes. Her slender but somehow still curvy figure. Her wavy, blonde hair that almost reached her ass. And what an ass it was: in a pair of tight jeans, her perfect and so firm-looking butt cheeks were a source of endless fascination to me; I could get hard just imagining cupping one in each of my hands. And, of course, those boobs, which I could now picture so very accurately in my mind.

I couldn’t stop thinking about her, and it’s fair to say that I had a massive crush on my big sister. But I was still just about rational enough to know that nothing could ever come of it.

Over the next year or so, she had a few boyfriends (that I loathed), but she didn’t seem that serious about them. Then came Todd, and even I could see that she was besotted with him. He made her so happy that even I had difficulty hating him.

Then one Saturday afternoon I was alone in the house, watching TV in the lounge, when Mandy came home distraught. Her eyes were red, her chest heaving, and she was clearly close to tears. At first, I thought she’d been in some kind of an accident.

“Are you OK? What happened?” I asked, jumping up and going to her. That was when the dam burst and she crumpled up in floods of tears. I put my arms around her and held her, and she buried her face in my neck and clung to me desperately. “It’ll be OK,” I said, not knowing what else to say, as I stroked her back, hoping that I was right and that it would make her feel better.

“Todd broke up with me!” she wailed.

“I’m so, so sorry, Mandy,” I said, leading her over to the couch where we sat. For a while she just hugged me, crying into my chest then, as the sobbing subsided just a little, she lay down, all curled up with her head in my lap.

I softly stroked her hair. “I always thought he was a bastard,” I told her. I was lying and she knew it, but it got a tiny, sniffly giggle out of her, which I thought was a start.

When her breathing evened out and her body went limp, I knew she’d fallen asleep, and I felt proud and so happy that I’d given her a little comfort and respite at an awful moment in her life.

When she woke up, she looked up at me and managed a small, brave smile. “Thank you, Ian,” she said, rubbing her eyes and sitting up. “You’re so sweet. Why can’t all boys be like you?” She gave me a small kiss, and then looked down and saw the wet patch on my jeans. “Oh, God, I’ve dribbled on you,” she said, sounding horrified.

“I don’t mind. Honestly,” I told her.

She stroked my face. “I can remember when I used to look after you,” she said fondly, stroking my face. “I think I’m going to go and lie down.” And she went off upstairs.

It was terrible knowing how much pain she was in, but I thought I’d helped a bit, and I figured that I’d give her some space.

Looking down at the wet spot on my jeans, it occurred to me how suspicious it might have appeared. With her face resting just inches from my penis, it could so easily have been something else entirely. But I hadn’t even gotten hard. It hadn’t even crossed my mind.

Later on, Mom asked me to fetch Mandy down for dinner. I went to her door and knocked softly. When she didn’t respond, I opened the door a crack. “Mandy?” I whispered, but there was no reply.

I went back downstairs and told Mom that she was asleep. “Well, why didn’t you wake her?” she asked, looking confused.

It wasn’t really my news to tell, but I didn’t see any other way that Mom was likely to let it go. “Todd broke up with her this afternoon,” I told her.

“Oh, the poor thing,” Mom said sympathetically. “Maybe I should--”

“Mom, I really think you should let her sleep,” I interrupted.

She frowned slightly, looking at me with her head tilted over, as if seeing a side of me that she wasn’t used to. “OK,” she said finally. “If you say so.”

In the night, on my way back from the bathroom, I heard sobbing coming from Mandy’s room. I knocked very softly and again opened the door just a little. “Mandy. Are you OK?” I whispered through the crack.

“No,” she croaked, her voice raw from crying. I went in, shutting the door behind me, and went over to her bed.

“Is there anything I can do?” I whispered.

“Will you hold me?” she asked plaintively. Even in the dim light, I could see her red-rimmed eyes and her wet cheeks, and my heart broke for her. I lay on the covers and put my arms around her, holding her tight.

“That’s nice,” she said, snuggling up against me with her head on my chest. “Just for a minute,” she said with a sigh, and I felt the tension begin to drain out of her. Again she slowly fell asleep in my arms. I only had my PJ bottoms on, and it was a bit cold, but I’d have happily lain there all night if that’s what she needed.

Eventually, the cold got to me though, and, hard as I tried not to, I began to shiver.

She stirred. “Oh, Ian, you’re freezing. I’m so, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I told her.

“Don’t be silly. Get in,” she said, tugging at the covers I was lying on. When I stood up, she rolled them back, and for a moment I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. She was only wearing a pair of panties, and she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“Get in, fool,” she said, with a giggle, “before we both freeze.”

I did as she said, keeping to the very edge of the bed, but she snuggled up against me, her small, firm breasts pressing into my arm, and her warm, soft legs tight against mine.

“You’re the best little brother ever,” she said sleepily. I didn’t feel like the best little brother at all: I had a raging erection that was threatening to pop out of the fly of my PJs. I felt so ashamed, getting turned on when she was hurting so much.

I didn’t sleep a lot that night, her near-naked body kept me permanently erect, and every time she moved in her sleep, I had to try not to let her touch it. But it was still far and away the most wonderful night of my young life.

Just after dawn, I figured I really ought to go. I thought that I’d managed to wriggle out from her embrace without waking her, when she reached out to me. I leaned closer and she took my face in her hands and kissed me firmly on the lips.

“Thank you,” she whispered softly, as her hands dropped back down and her eyes drifted shut.

“I love you,” I whispered back. It wasn’t something I’d thought about, the words just came out, and they shocked me. I’d said them many times to Mandy over the years, but this time I knew it was different. I was in love with my own sister.

My feelings for her were horribly mixed up. I loved her with an intensity that frightened me, but my desire for her filled me with guilt and shame. My nightly masturbation sessions were filled with images of her stunning body, but the guilt that I felt afterward made me miserable as hell.

I had a small but treasured collection of photos of her on my phone that I’d taken surreptitiously over the months. Some were perfectly innocent: her beautiful face caught as she was reading, and posing with Dad on his birthday. Others not so much: bending over in the garden wearing cut-off jeans with just a little of her perfect butt cheeks peeking out the bottom, and my favorites, taken when she was lying on her front sunbathing, the perfect globes of her ass barely covered.

I was masturbating one night, looking at them, my shorts around my knees, imagining what her flawless skin would feel like under my fingertips, when there was a soft knock on my door. I panicked, dropping my phone on the covers, and only managed a strangled cry before the door started to open.

“Ian?” I heard her concerned voice and, faced with two awful choices, I chose to cover my groin. She came closer, and I saw her eyes take in the phone, and then the shorts around my knees, and I knew she could be in no doubt about what I’d been up to. She sat on the bed next to me and put her hand on my shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” I bawled, my head bowed in shame. “I love you so much, but you make me so horny ... I know it’s bad ... Fuck, you must hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Ian,” she said quietly, raising my face with a finger under my chin so that she could look into my eyes. “I love you, and I love that I do that to you.”

“You do?” I asked incredulously.

“I do, I promise,” she said softly. “Show me.”

I couldn’t believe what she was asking of me, but she was staring right at the hands covering my genitals. I took one hand away. When the gasp of horror I’d been expecting didn’t come, I removed the other. It wasn’t very impressive, now small and shriveled.

“Aw,” she said sympathetically, which didn’t make me feel any better, but then she lifted up her T-shirt. “That’s better,” she giggled as my penis began to swell at the sight of her beautiful, perky breasts.

I was speechless, could she really enjoy turning me on? Then she raised her skirt so that I could see the front of her pale pink panties as well. I’d never seen between a real girl’s legs before, and the way the thin material hugged the soft-looking, plump mound took my breath away.

In seconds my cock was fully erect. “That’s very nice,” she said, “Would you stroke it for me?”

My brain just stalled and, when I didn’t move, she added, “Please do it, Ian. I want to watch you.” Then she raised her knee up onto the bed, opening her thighs wide, and began to stroke her finger up and down the front of her panties. “Does this help at all?” she asked with a little giggle.

Even my poor befuddled brain couldn’t fail to understand then, and I began to jerk off as my eyes flicked frantically from her tits to her pussy and back.

“That’s lovely,” she sighed, rubbing herself faster, and sometimes in little circles near the top.

Just when I thought that all my prayers had been answered, she pulled her panties to the side. “God, Mandy. That’s so beautiful,” I gasped, staring in awe at her gorgeously plump-looking mounds. They were covered with short, feather-like soft hairs, and separated by a slit fringed with velvety-looking little fleshy petals.

“Do you really think so?” she said, sounding unsure. I managed to look up and she was blushing so prettily and was looking so hopeful and vulnerable that it made my heart clench.

“Mandy,” I told her, as seriously as I could manage, “it is utterly perfect.” Her delighted smile not only unclenched my heart, it melted it.

In one way, I just wanted to wallow in how utterly beautiful my sister looked as she toyed with her pussy. But another part of me, desperately hoping and praying that someday I might have the opportunity to touch her myself, wanted to learn from and memorize exactly what she was doing.

She began by gently stroking a single finger up and down her crinkled folds, pressing a little deeper at the bottom and wetting them with the moisture she found there. A quick glance up, told me that her eyes were fixed on my moving hand, and seemed to sparkle as I stroked my thumb over my tight glans.

Her mouth was slightly open and she nibbled unconsciously on her lower lip as we watched each other, and I was enthralled by the way her pussy lips became shiny with wetness. I noticed that she would let out a tiny gasp, and her eyes would sort of defocus as she stroked higher, circling the little bump at the top, and I was utterly entranced by her expressions of blissful ecstasy.

Her fingers followed the same path, over and over, teasing her slit before moving to the top again. With each pass her lips became shinier and seemed to be swelling, and her hips began to rise to meet her finger, which dipped a little deeper each time.

It was then that I noticed an aroma for the first time. I was already breathing heavily, but I began to inhale huge lungfuls of air through my nose, fascinated by the smell, and loving it more and more with each breath.

Her hips were weaving, dancing under her hand, and she let out cute gasping squeaks at the end of each labored breath. When a second finger joined the first and thrust deep inside, I realized with a jolt of arousal that that must be where a penis would go. Maybe, I thought madly, where my penis might go ... one day.

“I’m gonna cum soon, Ian,” she whispered. “Are you close? Please?” That was so easy: I’d been holding back for ages, and the idea that she wanted to see me do it was thrilling beyond belief.

As I rubbed harder and faster, she brought her other hand into play, rubbing the bump at the top urgently, while her fingers pumped in and out of her wet hole. I came harder than I’d ever done before, the first spurt hitting me under the chin.

“Yes,” she hissed as she watched my cock buck with another jet. “Yes. Oh, yes.” Her little finger delved between the cheeks of her bottom and began to tickle her little pink, puckered hole, and instantly her thighs clamped shut around her hands, and she moaned and shook. My sister was cumming!

I’d seen girls in porn, writhing and shaking and screaming, but I’d assumed it was all an act. But I watched in awe as Mandy quivered in delight, alternately squeezing her legs together and moaning, and then throwing them wide, gazing at my twitching cock as she rubbed herself furiously before another convulsive wave consumed her.

When she finally calmed down, she looked at my face. “Oh God, don’t look! Stop it!” she squealed, covering her face and rolling onto her side in a tight ball.

I realized that my mouth was hanging open in wonder and ... well ... reverence, I think. “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I whispered.

She peeked at me over her shoulder, her eyes wide. “Really?”

“I swear,” I said very seriously.

She looked at me steadily for several seconds, a smile slowly spreading over her lips. Then she uncurled, all self-consciousness suddenly gone, and she picked up my phone. I watched nervously as she flicked through the photos.

“I think we can do better than those,” she said, smiling at me. After a few more presses, she positioned it between her legs and there was a flash. She repeated it three more times in slightly different positions and then handed it back to me. “For when I can’t be here,” she said, and then leaned forward and kissed me on the lips.

I was light-headed from what we’d already done, and the kiss literally made my head spin. When her soft lips finally left mine, she took one look at the expression on my face and giggled. “I could seriously fall for you, young man,” she said, then straightened her clothes and sneaked out the door.

We didn’t get any time alone together for several days, long lingering looks being the only things that passed between us.

Then, after we’d all shared a late breakfast together one morning, Mom said, “We’re going into town for a few things. Do you want anything? Or you could come, if you’d like?”

“No thanks, Mom,” I told her, trying not to let any of my rising excitement into my voice.

“Me neither. Thanks.” Mandy said. I didn’t dare look at her.

“OK. We’ll only be about an hour or so.” Mom said as she and Dad got up. Mandy and I finally dared to look at each other as we nursed our glasses of OJ, and she looked just as excited as I felt. When the front door slammed, Mandy went and stood by the window, where you could see the front driveway. After a few minutes, she came back and held out her hand. I took it and she led me calmly up to her bedroom and over to the window.

After a final check that the folks had gone, she turned to face me. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” she said, looking deep into my eyes.

Her words made me so happy I wanted to punch the air ... or cry. “I’m glad it’s not just me,” I managed to say, and then I kissed her before I started blubbing. After so long, the kiss was a frantic thing, lips and tongues battling as we almost seemed to be trying to consume each other, while our hands roamed urgently over each other’s bodies.

I began trying to undo the buttons on her blouse. “No, we haven’t got time,” she said, gasping for breath. She cut off my complaint with more lovely kisses and then I felt her fingers at the fly of my pants. We both gasped as her hand slipped inside my clothes and closed around my erection.

“Oh, I’ve been dreaming about this guy,” she said wistfully into my neck, her soft fingers exploring my length and all around the tip.

“Jesus, Mandy. That feels so good,” I groaned, my legs already beginning to tremble. After what seemed like no time at all, she pulled her hand out of my clothes and I couldn’t help the plaintive, “Oh,” that escaped my lips.

“Sssh,” she said, putting a finger to my lips, and then my breath caught in my throat as she dropped to her knees. Surely she wasn’t ... The thought stopped, half-formed, as the prospect of one of my favorite fantasies coming true was too wonderful to contemplate. But she undid the button and put her fingers into the waistband, pulling my pants and my shorts down until my hard-on sprang out and she giggled happily.

“Such a pretty cock,” she crooned, and planted little kisses all the way from the base to the tip. I whimpered as she covered half of my glans with her soft lips and dipped her tongue into the little slit. She peeked up at me, her gorgeous face with my cock between her lips a sight that I never thought I’d see, but one I knew I’d never forget. She kept looking at me as she licked the same path her kisses had taken, finally running her tongue all over my knob. I bit my lip and whined in the back of my throat at the unbelievably stunning sensations.

“Are you going to cum,” she said between licks, and then she reached between my legs and began to tickle my balls.

“Oh fuck, yes,” I sighed.

“Goody,” she said happily, covering the tip of my cock with her mouth again and sucking while dipping her head so that her lips ran up and down over the ridge below the tip. It was utterly gorgeous and I stroked her hair, the only part I could reach, as I felt my spunk boiling up in my balls.

“Mandy!” I cried in a strangled voice as I felt a massive orgasm rushing up on me. I felt more than heard the happy humming in her throat as she sucked harder and gently squeezed my balls. My hips juddered wildly as I came, her lips tightening around me as she thrashed my glans with her tongue.

She kept licking and sucking, and wringing out my softening cock until I had to ease her away, my knob too sensitive to take anymore. She gazed up into my eyes, licking her lips, and I reached for her pretty face, desperate to kiss her. There was a salty, slightly bitter taste in her mouth which I loved simply because she seemed to love it so much.

When we finally broke the kiss, I had only one thing on my mind. “Can I-- Can I kiss you? Between your legs? Please, Mandy?”

“Girls take a bit longer than boys--” she began to explain, and then must have seen the look of utter desolation on my face. “Just for a bit then,” she said, and was giggling as she pulled her panties off from under her skirt and tucked them in a pocket. Then she stood right in front of me, grasped the hem of her skirt, and pulled it up.