"Hey, what's up? Did somebody die?" I'd just come home from hanging out with some friends. Mom and my sister were sitting at the kitchen table looking pretty unhappy.

"Your sister had herself tattooed," Mom replied.

"Cool! Can I see it?"

"I can't understand why you and Dad are so upset," said Bernie. "Tattoos are in." Her name is Bernadette but I just call her Bernie. She prefers that anyway.

"Go ahead and show him," said Mom. Bernie stood up, turned around and lifted her top. She displayed a nicely designed tattoo that covered her lower back. She must have been saving up for it for a while. The tattoo artist took pride in his work at least.

"Nice tramp stamp."

"What did you call it?" Mom asked.

"They're called tramp stamps."

"They are not," Bernie exclaimed.

"Why do they call them that?"

"From what I've heard any girl that gets that kind of tattoo is announcing to the world that she's a slut."

"It's worse than I thought," said Mom. "I think I need a drink."

"He's just making that up, Mom. I know he is."

"I'm not making it up. Just google tramp stamps and you'll see that I'm right."

"Well, I've had my say," said Mom. "You're going to have to live with that for the rest of your life." She got up and walked out of the kitchen. I assumed she headed for where the booze was kept.

"Why did you tell Mom that? That was mean and you just made things worse."

"Mom and Dad would have found out sooner or later. Better to get all the bad news out now so they can get used to your new decoration."

"So that's what it's really called; a tramp stamp?"

"Just like I said. I take it Allison talked you into it?" Bernie nodded her head. Allison is Bernie's best friend. Mom and Dad adored her like Allison was another daughter and I liked her plenty too except as another sister. I guess they've known each other since kindergarten. It's easy to figure who the dominant one is in that friendship. Allison can talk my sister into practically anything. At least it's monkey see monkey do. Allison had her tramp stamp first. The same thing happened with their piercings. They're both 18 years old and recent high school graduates.

"Well, I don't care what people call it. I'm not a slut. I happen to still be a virgin." Not for long I thought.

"You should ask why people call girls with tramp stamps sluts, shouldn't you?"

"Suppose you tell me."

"I'd be happy to do just that. Now, as I see it the girl with one of those tattoos has to show it off, right? What does she wear? She wears those low riser jeans with her thong straps showing and a crop top for maximum exposure of the tattoo. Now that happens to be the uniform of today's street hooker in any town in the good old USA you care to mention. Is it any wonder why people will think of you as a slut? It's like saying, 'Come fuck me. I'm available.'"

I could tell my explanation was having an effect on her. Naturally it was stuff she never considered before. I was having a ball fucking with her mind. She was two years older than me but I swear she was as gullible as a child.

"I don't have to wear that stuff."

"No, you don't have to but do you think Allison will let you get away with that? She'll have you outfitted like a whore just like herself." Bernie didn't deny it. I think she realized how much sway Allison had on her.

"Anyway, you'd have to rid of your bikinis and wear swimsuits designed for old women." Bernie looked horrified.

"Then what should I do?"

"I don't think there's anything you can do except look on the bright side."

"There's a bright side?" She sounded hopeful.

"Yeah, now you'll have plenty of guys coming on to you."

"That's never been a problem for me." I could believe that. My sister was quite an attractive girl.

"Well, now there going to lots more guys coming on to you. But now they won't even pretend to respect you. They'll just walk right up to you, grab some of your tit flesh and give it a squeeze."

"They better not," Bernie exclaimed. "They'll get their faces slapped."

"Heck! I'm thinking about doing it myself. There's something about that tattoo that just brings out the animal in a guy."

"How can you say that? I'm your sister for Pete's sake."

"Who gives a shit?" I grabbed at her like I was really going to do it. She squeaked in terror, dodged out of my way and raced up the stairs to her bedroom. I imagined she'd be looking up tattoo removal services on her computer.

I fixed myself a snack and went upstairs to my room. I wanted to listen to some music before dinner. I wasn't up there very long when I heard a knock on my door. I yelled for who ever to come in. It was Bernie and it looked like she'd been crying.

"It's true," she said. "That's what they're called; tramp stamps." Oh shit! I didn't mean to make her cry.

"I was just teasing you, Bernie," I said.

"You were? But that's what it says on the internet so it must be true."

"Yeah, they're called tramp stamps, but all the rest is just bullshit." I got off my bed and gave my sister a brotherly hug. "A lot of people our age are getting tattoos. Heck! I might do it when I turn 18. That doesn't say anything about them one way or another except that they have a tattoo. It certainly doesn't say a beautiful woman like you is a slut just because she's wearing one."

"You think I'm beautiful?"

"You've always been beautiful and now you're sexier than ever." I was finally getting a smile out of her.

"You think I'm sexy too?"

"I sure do."

"Do you want to fuck me?"

"What!" That sure came out of left field.

"Do you want to fuck me?" I was sure by now she was just bullshitting to get back at me for teasing her. I decided to play along.

"Anytime and anywhere," I replied. I felt my woody coming on even though I was sure Bernie wasn't serious.

"How about tonight after Mom and Dad are asleep? I'll come back here and we can do it."

"That ... that sounds fine. Uh, Bernie? I don't how to say this, but I was wondering--"

"You're probably wondering why I asked to go to bed with me. Am I right?"

"Yeah, you're right."

"Allison and I were talking and she says sex between a brother and a sister has to be the most beautiful sex there is."

"Allison doesn't even have a brother, Bernie. How does she know?" I should have known it was one of her girlfriend's harebrained ideas. Now I had the feeling Bernie was serious about letting me sleep with her. I didn't want to, but I thought maybe I'd better put a stop to this before someone got hurt.

"I know that. That makes her so sad. She asked me if she could pretend if you were her brother and I said okay, but I have to go first. It took me a while to get up my nerve to ask, but you were saying such nice things to me right now that it just came out."

"Allison wants to sleep with me?" That wouldn't be bad. At least she's not my sister. "Uh ... maybe we should wait until I can buy some condoms. I wouldn't want us to have an accident."

"Allison and I are both on birth control pills so you don't have to worry there. Jeepers! I can hardly believe I'm about to sleep with my little brother. I'm so excited. Aren't you?" She took my hand and placed it on her tit. She kissed me on the lips, smiled prettily and then left the room.

My mind was in a muddle the rest of the afternoon and evening. Was Bernie being serious or was she putting me on? Every time I chanced to look her way she would always smile so that didn't help. If she was serious I'd be getting rid of my hated virginity. If it was just a joke then nothing would happen. Hey, that was easy to figure out. I'd just assume nothing was going to happen. Tomorrow, Bernie would expect me to be all whiney and disappointed but I wouldn't even bring it up. Yeah, there's no way my sister was going to pull a fast one on me.