I would imagine that in every school you will find that one girl who is known for her big boobs. In my high school, that girl just happened to be my sister. She was eighteen months older than me but because academics weren't her thing, we ended up in the same grade. I never thought about how big they were or when they developed. After all, it was my goofy sister, and she was built like our mom so I guess women with big boobs were the norm at our house. But around seventh grade, my best buddy suggested we raid her underwear drawer to check it out. The moment that my friend held up that white cross-your-heart 36DD bra, my obsession with my sister's big boobs began.

Unfortunately, getting a peak at those magnificent mams proved to be a challenge. I became obsessed. I would lie awake at night thinking of ways to get just a peek at them. It wasn't until my sister, having caught me drooling at them for the millionth time, finally let me have it. Words like "pervert" and "telling dad" brought me back to reality. I moved on. Or so I thought.

My buddy from the underwear drawer days was back in town. He had moved away a couple of years earlier with his mom after the divorce. He was now staying with his dad for the summer. There wasn't a lot to do in our small town so we spent the summer playing games, and talking about girls. My sister was rarely around as she had gotten a job at the swimming pool and was out most nights with one boy or another.

The usual summer trip to Grandma's came and since my sister had a job, my parents told us we could stay home. Looking back, I assume that I was left behind to keep an eye on my sister. In the last year, my sister had discovered the power of having big boobs. Rumors of her escapades had circulated the school, but who really knew what was fact or fiction. What I remember most was that she had developed a condescending attitude towards me, going out of her way to treat me as a child. I guess it somehow made her feel more grown up.

When Friday night came around, my buddy and I had no real plans. Surprising to us was that my sister had no plans either. Seems her boyfriend at the time had to go out of town with his parents at the last minute. Being the woman of the house, my sister took it upon herself to make us dinner. She seemed to lay the condescending attitude on thicker than usual that night. "Could you boys set the table". "I've poured you boys some milk — 'cause you've had way too much soda". I noticed she was drinking wine.

Half way through our spaghetti dinner, I noticed a change in my sister. Her eyes became glassy. Her words began to slur. She seemed tipsy. When I looked over to my buddy, I knew something was up because he had a huge grin on his face. He told me later that he had slipped her some sleeping pills.

She started to get up, saying something about needing to lie down, but then collapsed back into her chair. Both my buddy and I jumped up to keep her from falling completely to the floor. We helped her to the living room couch. She could barely walk. Her speech was just a mumble of words now. After planting her on the couch, I grabbed my buddy by the arm and pulled him out of the room. He still had that shit eating grin. I asked him what the hell he thought he was doing. He explained that we were finally going to get to see my sister's boobs and she would be none the wiser. To ease my mind, he patted me on the back and said, "Let's just take a peek. What could it hurt?"

When we went back in the room, my buddy asked my sister how she was doing. She opened her eyes slightly and commented about how she shouldn't have had that last glass of wine. My buddy told her she just needed to get more comfortable. With that he began to unbutton her blouse, not missing the opportunity to cop a feel here and there as he did so.