Chapter 1

Bob Richards was a normal, or at least typical, teenager in many ways. At seventeen he loved playing X Box, and was pretty good at it. He could play three sports with relative skill. He did so-so in school, and could have done much better if he'd really tried. He had over thirty sexual fantasies per day. He dreamed about owning a car, but couldn't afford one. He worked to make a little spending money, but not enough to put on a resume. And, he had a sister, though I suppose that's not something that you could call being average. Still, it's important, because he was average in another way. He paid no attention whatsoever to when her birthday was.

It was made easier for him (to forget, that is) because she had married her high school sweetheart two months after graduation and moved out, at which time he got her room, which, of course, was bigger than his had been. He had settled into it happily and, to tell the truth, didn't miss her all that much.

That sounds cruel, but it wasn't really. It was more of a survival kind of instinct, which the average guy has inside him, whether he knows it or not.

That had been eleven months ago, and he was also average in-so-far as his attitude about things had changed since then. Life seemed complicated to him, which was also normal. Especially when you have a sister.

For those of you men out there who have a sister, you are quite aware that there are several phases that brothers go through as they grow up.

First, you compete with her for resources in the family. Maybe that's not a phase, exactly, since it lasts the whole time you both live in the same house.

Actually, come to think of it, that happens later too, once in a while, but that's a different phase. Anyway, then there's the phase where she's a pain in the ass, whether she's younger, or older. Doesn't matter. She either wants to tag along (younger) or lord it over you (older). In either case, she's a pain in the ass. Then there comes a time when you notice her as a female, as opposed to just a sister. She grows breasts and all the other things you become acutely aware of that make a woman a woman, and, more than likely, she's the one you're most likely to be able to get a peek at when she's naked.

It's not exactly that you think of her as your sexy sister. No, rather it's that she's sexy ... and happens to be your sister. So there is some male interest there, though you'd never admit it to anyone. After all ... she is your sister, and brothers just aren't supposed to think that way about their sisters.

Then she starts to show interest in boys, and eventually she goes out with them. You, of course, get to see her get ready for these dates. That secret knowledge can be invigorating ... and excruciating, not to mention dangerous.

Say, for instance, that she's getting ready for a date and everything is going well. Her hair is working, and she has the right outfit, and her makeup is going on just the way she wants it to. You, as her brother, may be ignored to the point that you can actually stand in the room with her, as she sits in her bra and panties or, if you're extremely lucky, just her panties, and have a conversation with her while you stare at her good parts. Exhilarating! She's looking her best, which you'll remember for later, just in case you need to ease the pressure in the old tube snake.

On the other hand, if things aren't going well as she gets ready, you'd probably be better off being thrown in the lion cage at the zoo at feeding time ... when they're out of food. You don't even have to be in the room to feel her rage at times like that, and she looks for any excuse to vent her anger. And, since she can't vent at the parental units ... guess who's left?

Anyway, whatever happens, you're there when she comes back home. Again, it can be euphoria, or disaster, depending on what happened on her date. If you're like most brothers, the single thing you want to do most is be in a secret place where you can see her undress. This is because you want to see if her bra is still on. You can always hope for the pinnacle of peeping pleasure ... where she drops her skirt, or jeans or whatever, and is no longer wearing panties.

That's good for the next hundred jerk off sessions. Not to mention how good it is for blackmail evidence, should you need that in the future. And, if you have a sister, you'll always need blackmail evidence, sooner or later.

It gets complicated, though, depending on who she went out with. If it was a guy you like, or respect, then her coming home sans panties is just fine. On the other hand, if the guy's a jerk, a bare bush brings the blood to a boil.

Not that there's anything you can do about it. She won't listen to her brother's advice on who not to date. That would be common sense, and we all know how much common sense women have when it comes to picking a guy.

Which brings us back to Bob Richards. He had done all the normal things guys do as his older sister, Lori, grew up, and dated and all that. It was complicated by the fact that she was a cheerleader, and therefore sought after by many a horny guy. Bob's life was made a little easier by virtue of the fact that she seemed to have reasonably good common sense most of the time. He based that on the three times he actually got into position to see her undress after a date. Two of those times she was wearing her bra when her top came off. All three times she had on her panties and she didn't treat them like they were evidence of something she didn't want their mother to find in the hamper.

Then Randy Metzger set his sights on her, and everything went to shit. Randy was one of those guys who tries to get in every girl's panties, whether he likes her or not. He had actually been heard to say "Put a flag over the ugly bitch's face and fuck her for patriotism's sake." Bob knew the guy was lower than whale shit, and he even mentioned that, casually, while Lori primped for their first date.

"You know Metzger is a turd," he'd said helpfully.

"Takes one to know one," Lori had responded.

"Come on Lor," he'd said seriously. "I mean it. That guy is a snake and I'll be worried about you all night."

Lori had turned to him, her gaze level.

"First of all, it's none of your business." She had turned back to the mirror, but kept talking. "Second, he's the captain of the football team, and has been offered a scholarship to State to play football." She stopped talking long enough to expertly apply lipstick. She kissed her image in the mirror. "And thirdly, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." She looked at him in the mirror. "Now get out of here you pervert. As you can plainly see all I have on is my bra and panties."

It had gone downhill from there. For who knows what reason, Lori had decided that Randy was going to get out of the fuck 'em and leave 'em business. She wasn't stupid. She knew his rep. But the way she dealt with it was to keep her legs closed. She let him play just a little, but wouldn't let him do anything that involved semen coming out of his prick. Bob knew this because he overheard her talking to Karen Singleton during a sleepover when Karen came over.

Randy, of course, claimed he fucked her brains out every time they went out, which everybody pretty well knew was horse shit, but wanted to believe anyway just because Lori was a stone fox.

And, oddly enough, it seemed to work. When he couldn't get in her pants, he tried harder and harder until she extracted a ring from him. Even then she didn't let him fuck her. She started blowing him then, but he didn't crawl between her silky white thighs until their wedding night. I, your humble author, know this, because Bob told me. He knew this because ... well ... that's the rest of the story.

So about now you're saying "Well get on with it!"

Don't be impatient. It takes time to tell a story well.

Okay, okay, calm down ... I'll get on with it.

Anyway, suffice it to say that Bob didn't like his brother-in-law, before or after they were related. You could say it was one of those "He's not good enough for my sister," things. You'd be right. Randy Metzger wasn't anywhere near good enough for Lori.

But she married him anyway.

Which is why, after Bob moved into her room and took it over for his own, it was easier to put her out of his mind as a jerk-off fantasy, which made it easier to forget her in general, which made it easier to forget her birthday.

Now, after a year of college, during which Randy got drunk way too often, and missed practices, and destroyed somebody's property and got kicked off the team and lost his scholarship ... and knocked up Lori ... they had moved back to Hendersonville and were living in a rental house that his parents owned. Lori got a job, while Randy "looked for one" and stayed home with the baby. Even so, Bob got to see a lot more of him than he had ever wanted to.

Which was why Bob thought life was so complicated. He had to be nice to the guy, because he was family. He was an idiot, but he was family. Now, Bob was trying to kill monsters, and his brother-in-law was sitting on the bed behind him drinking one of his father's imported beers. Bob was pretty sure he'd be blamed for that, at least in the beginning.

"Hey, so what are you going to get Lori for her birthday?" asked Randy.

"Birthday?" asked half of Bob's mind as he instructed his sorcerer to throw a fireball at a group of skeletons in the next room of the castle.

"Don't tell me you forgot your own sister's birthday!" crowed Randy. He liked to make fun of Bob. Bob couldn't figure out why a guy with a year of college would want to hang around with a seventeen year old kid. Unless, of course, it was to be able to make fun of him.

"Of course I didn't forget it," said Bob, his face turning red. "I'll get her something."

"Yeah, sure," sneered Randy. "Hey, I know what you could do. You could donate a night of babysitting for us so I could take her out on the town. You know, I'd wine her and dine her at someplace special ... someplace expensive, and we could do some dancing and we wouldn't have to worry about the kid because you'd be there with him."

Bob wasn't stupid. With Lori as the only breadwinner in the family, the asshole was spending her hard earned money "showing her a good time" on her birthday. Still, Bob knew his sister well enough to know she loved dancing, and getting away from the baby someplace other than work might be nice for her too.

Of course Bob, being seventeen and having that scatter-brain sort of existence, didn't think to tell Lori about the idea. Her turd husband suggested it to his wife, and, three days before the birthday in question, she called her little brother.

"Hi squirt," she said when he answered the phone.

"Hi Lor," he gave his standard greeting. "What's up?"

"Well, Randy wants to take me out on the town for my birthday and when I told him I didn't have a sitter he thought you might be willing to stay with your nephew that night?"

Lori also believed that she could change her brother from the, "I think you're husband is a prick," kind of guy he was, to someone "less judgmental." What that means to us men is "blind to the truth." Why women think they can change men is beyond those of us who are men ... but they always think they can.

Bob's first impulse was to be angry that the turd had stolen his birthday present idea before he could suggest it. Then he admitted to himself that it had been Randy's idea, and that made it harder to be pissed off about it.

"Uh ... sure, Lor. I'm kind of strapped for funds for a present anyway. I could make it your birthday present." He said that in a voice that would have suggested he was asking a question, rather than advancing a good idea.

"I know about being strapped for funds, squirt. That would be wonderful," said Lori.

And the thing was that she sounded like she thought it would be wonderful ... like it was something that did qualify as a present ... something that would mean something to her. And that made Bob feel pretty good about the whole thing.

Lori went on. "If you do that for me I can afford to get a new dress and get all fixed up and that would just be wonderful." It was quiet as she waited for a response, which of course, Bob didn't make. What guy would respond with excitement to the idea that his sister was going to go out and buy a dress?

So she went on. "Um ... I hate to ask, but Randy's going to be looking for work, and I have Wednesday afternoon off, so I could go shopping then ... if I had a sitter then too..."

Bob thought about it. The babysitting part wasn't any big deal, but he had plans.

"I think I'm supposed to mow Mrs. Ethridge's lawn Wednesday afternoon," he said. "I'll call her and see if I can do it in the morning."

"Are you sure?" his sister asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure it will be OK," he said. "Besides, now that you're getting all old and decrepit, you might need more time to get from the parking lot to the store and stuff. As your brother I need to be sensitive to your needs."

It was a good dig, and Bob, being seventeen, was proud of it.

"Well, let's see, little boy," she came back strongly. "I'm going to be nineteen, and that makes you a whole two years younger than me, which means I need to get your babysitting services out of the way before you have to start using a walker yourself. OK, it's a deal! Be there at noon. That's when the sun is right up there overhead in the middle of the sky. You think you can remember that squirt?"

Why, oh why were women able to turn a good dig around on a guy without hardly trying?

"I'll set my sun dial," said Bob. But he wasn't upset, really. She sounded pretty happy, and that brought out the old impulses he had felt when she was sitting in front of the mirror, getting ready to go out on a date, and everything was going well.

Bob, like many brothers, enjoyed it when his sister was happy.

It was almost exactly noon when Bob hopped off his bike and bounded up the old wooden steps that led to the big porch that went around two sides of the house. Even though it was his sister's house, he knocked. He looked at it more like it was Randy's house, and his sister was just staying there.

Her smile, when she opened the door, was both wide and genuine. Like many sisters, she loved her little brother - and had for some time - even though she was only now getting to the point in her life when she could admit that to others.

That smile, and her appearance, made Bob's nuts tighten.

She was dressed in shorts and a tank top. The shorts he remembered, though they were much tighter now than when he had last seen her wearing them. He didn't think about it, but having a baby does that to a woman. Had he been a sister, instead of a brother, he would have been impressed that she could still get into those shorts. He stopped paying attention to the shorts almost immediately, though, because she wasn't wearing a bra, and her nipples telegraphed themselves through the tank top making it impossible not to notice them. They were perched on top of breasts that were larger than they had been before the baby, which Bob had noticed in the past, and which made a man just want to reach out and grab onto, like they were a life preserver in a man overboard situation. Bob didn't realize it, but his fingers actually flexed as he stared.

"You're early!" she said, ignoring the fact that he was looking at her chest. Most men did.

Bob's eyes slid to her face and he knew that she knew where he'd been looking. Discomfited by being caught, he stammered.

"Uh ... no I'm not. I'm right on time."

Lori, in that maddening way that women have of ignoring an uncomfortable man just smiled.

"Thanks so much for doing this, Bob. I really appreciate this. Having some time to shop is really precious. Okay. Todd's asleep in his room so he should be ok. Just go check on him a couple of times, but other than that, make yourself at home."

"Sure. Have a nice time," he said, feeling silly.

She turned and actually ran toward the back of the house, returning with her purse. She had put on a bra. Bob wondered if she'd met him braless on purpose, but shook his head. That made him feel even sillier.