I stood in front of the house that I’d lived in for seventeen years, trying to make out what had changed. All the details basically looked the same: classic suburban semi, windows still in need of painting, porch the same, lawn a bit too long. And then it came to me: it looked smaller. I realized that it’d been the same with the town I’d just driven through. Of course, it wasn’t that - it was my world which had gotten bigger. Four months of RAF basic and specialist training, and then a year of my first tour in Germany would do that, I guessed.

I was also feeling a little apprehensive. When I’d told Mum that I wasn’t coming home after BRT, she’d said she understood, but I could tell that she wasn’t happy, and I felt guilty about it. Not guilty enough to cancel the week’s debauchery with my new mates, but guilty enough that I was still worried that she might not have forgiven me. It had been an awesome week, though - a lot of drink, a little weed, and the uniform had been just as much of a totty magnet as we’d been promised. They were in Amsterdam this time, and I tried not to feel jealous. I did want to see my Mum and Dad, and my little sister, Hazel, though; I missed them.

I went around the side of the house, figuring that it was a nice, sunny Sunday afternoon and they’d likely be in the back garden. I was right, and Mum’s happy smile dispelled any fears I’d had. I dropped my bag and hurried over to them, hugging her and lifting her off her feet.

“Put me down, you fool,” she said, but hugged me back.

“I’m sorry, Mum. You know, about--” I began, but she cut me off.

“Don’t be silly. You’re here now, that’s the important thing.” I put her down, turned to Dad, and shook his offered hand.

“Jesus. That’s a helluva grip you’ve got there, my son,” he said, squeezing my other bicep. Then he pulled me into that weird, back-slappy hug that blokes always do.

“Dave!!” I heard from behind me, and turned just in time to catch sight of a blonde missile hurling herself at me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist and did her best to crack a few of my ribs.

“My favourite sister,” I said fondly, hugging her and stroking her back. It was impossible not to notice the small breasts pressing into my chest, or the warmth between her legs against my stomach, and I was mortified when I began to get hard.

“You beast,” she said, thumping me on my back. “I’m your only sister!” As she released her grip on me, she slid lower, and suddenly the heat was right on my half-hard cock. I lifted her gently away with my hands on her waist, praying that she hadn’t noticed, and held her at arm’s length. I couldn’t believe that the sexy girl I was holding was my little sister Hazel.

I lowered her gently to the ground. “Seriously, it’s great to see you, Hazel. You look...” ‘good enough to eat’ were the words that sprang to mind, but I went with, “amazing.” She did, though; she’d grown a good two or three inches, and must have been a slim five feet four or so. Her little breasts were all high and pert, and she’d grown some hips while I’d been away, not to mention legs that were no longer scrawny and scabby, but looked great in her little white mini skirt. She blushed prettily and looked me up and down. “I love your uniform,” she said, grinning. “You look hot as f--”

“Hazel!” Mum scolded, hurriedly cutting her off.

“Seriously, though, you look great. But then you are fifteen now, aren’t you?” I teased.

She looked down at her feet, pouting. “I’m not fifteen for two more weeks,” she said quietly, thinking I’d forgotten. I took the box from my pocket - which the jewellers had kindly wrapped in a pretty ribbon - and held it under her face.

“Ooooh!” she squealed, looking up at me, her face alight with joy. “Can I open it now, Mum? Can I? Can I?”

I shared a look with my mother: she’d reminded me about Hazel’s birthday a week ago. “Of course you can, sweetheart.”

Hazel untied the ribbon and opened the box to reveal a sterling silver bangle. “Oh, Dave. You remembered!” she said, slipping it over her wrist. “Thank you so much. I love it!” She pulled me down by my collar so that she could give me a kiss, and then laced her arm through mine, beaming up at me.

Dad fetched some beers from the house, and we sat in the sun and caught up somewhat. We were still at it through dinner and on into the night.

“Come on, Hazel,” Mum said finally. “It’s way past your bedtime.”

“Aww!” she whined.

“Fifteen more minutes won’t hurt,” I suggested, which earned me a grateful smile from my little sister.

“Ok. But you’ll be the one making sure she gets up tomorrow morning,” Mum agreed. Both of my parents worked at a hotel in town, which required a hideously early start.

“No problem,” I agreed.

I crashed just after Hazel, and I was lying in bed when there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” I called out, and Hazel came in, wearing an oversized, black and green striped, collared shirt.

“Is that one of my old rugby shirts?” I asked.

“It is,” she said, doing a little twirl for me. “Do you like it?” It only came down a few inches below the cheeks of her bottom, and her slender legs looked fabulous.

“It looks a lot better on you than it ever did on me,” I told her, unable to stop myself from wondering if she had anything on under it. She smiled and came over to the bed.

“I just wanted to say thank you again for my bracelet,” she said, showing it off on her wrist.

“I’m really glad that you like it,” I said, and then she bent down to kiss me. As she did, the shirt gaped and I got a perfect view of a pair of astonishingly firm little breasts, with small, pink nipples that made my mouth water.

Her stunningly soft lips touched mine and sent a jolt of arousal straight to my cock, which had already been lifting the covers; I prayed she wouldn’t notice.

“Goodnight,” she said softly.

“Goodnight, Sis,” I echoed. As she walked away, her hips swayed in a way I’d never seen with her before. It took me a while to get to sleep.

Sure enough, after my first two calls the next morning went unheeded, I knocked on her door. There was no reply, so I went in. Hazel was fast asleep, lying on her back, the covers pushed down to her hips, with the rugby shirt rucked up above it, showing just a little of her cute, rounded tummy. My thought from the previous night came back to me, and I knew that if she didn’t have anything on under the shirt, her bare pussy was just a few inches below the top of those covers. For the third time in two days, my little sister was making me hard.

Checking her face carefully, I crept a little closer, and then closer still, getting harder all the time, until I was beside her bed. I knew I shouldn’t be perving on my little sister like that, but she looked so beautiful, and I was so fucking turned on that I couldn’t help myself. I reached out a trembling hand and lifted the corner of the covers. I couldn’t breathe. She had an exquisite pussy, with just the lightest covering of blonde hairs barely hiding the tiny, coral pink lips peeking out of her neat little slit, or the puffy mounds of her vulva. I don’t know how long I stood there, just drinking in its beauty while my cock leaked precum into my shorts, before the fear of getting caught finally overcame my lust.

I very carefully lowered the bedclothes and then pulled them up to her waist. “Wake up, sleepy head,” I said as I gently shook her by the shoulder. She grunted and then stretched before rubbing her eyes. When she opened them, I could have sworn that she stared directly at my groin before looking up at my face.

“Morning, Dave,” she said, smiling. “Am I late?” she added, and then went to push the covers down. Before I could stop myself, my hand snapped out to cover hers and stop her. “Hey,” she said, grinning, “I’m not naked under here, you know!”

“No, no. Of course you’re not,” I agreed, backing away. Just very nearly naked, I thought, with the prettiest little pussy I’d ever seen. She was still laughing at my obvious discomfort as I closed the door behind me.

A little later, I was eating some toast and drinking a mug of tea at the kitchen table when she came down, and I think my eyes nearly popped out of my head: she was the embodiment of ‘Sexy Schoolgirl’ that most guys only dreamed of. The hardon that had only just subsided came back with a vengeance.

“Does Mum let you go to school dressed like that?”

“Like what?” she said, looking down at herself.

“That skirt, it’s ... barely long enough to cover your knickers. And I can see that push-up bra through the blouse you’re hardly wearing.”

She just giggled at me. “Yeah, of course Mum knows. Everyone dresses like this,” she said, and then did a twirl that proved my point: her tiny white undies made her arse look fantastic. “You like?” I looked down at my tea, grateful that I was sitting at the table and she couldn’t see my erection.

“You look lovely,” I admitted.

“Why, thank you, big bro,” she said, leaning down and kissing me on the forehead. “See ya’ later.” Then she stole a bit of my toast and smiled over her shoulder at me as I watched her walk away. Just before she shut the front door, she flipped up the back of her skirt, giving me an awesome view of her pert bottom.

Jesus fuck! My little sister shouldn’t be turning me on this way, I thought. I sat there for maybe ten minutes, waiting for my erection to go down, but visions of her pussy and her arse kept coming into my head.

In the end, I picked up my phone and went up to my room. I was fully intending to find some porn to wank off to, but in the end, I sat leaning against the pillows, with my eyes shut. I was naked from the waist down with my shirt unbuttoned, and my mind was full of images of Hazel’s beautiful pussy and her cute little backside.

I teased myself, slowing down when I got close a couple of times. Then I had a thought - a very, very bad thought - maybe there were some of Hazel’s knickers in the laundry basket? It felt so fucking weird, walking along to the bathroom with my prick bobbing away, but I just couldn’t resist it.

As if by fate, there, on top of the other clothes, were a pair of white knickers pretty much identical to the ones I’d just seen her wearing. I stared at them while my conscience fought with my base desires. It wasn’t a fair fight. They smelled every bit as wonderful as I’d hoped, with the faint but unmistakable scent of aroused pussy.

I walked back to my room with the crotch of her panties pressed to my nose and my other hand stroking up and down on my now very hard cock.

As I lay back on the bed, I knew that just the idea that I was smelling the sweet, tangy, musky scent of my little sister’s excitement would be enough to get me off. In my mind’s eye, I was licking the tiny inner lips that I’d seen this morning, lapping up her divine cream as she got more and more --

“What are you doing?!” I heard screeched, and my eyes flashed open to see Hazel with her hands on her hips, glaring at me. “Are those my panties?!”