-- JUNE 1989, SPRING BREAK --

"Mommmm!" I cried pitifully, limping my way down the street. On a normal day, I could cross each square of the sidewalk in two steps. Running, I could do it with one. But the way my right leg hurt, it felt like it was taking a -million- steps just to go from one square to the next. And there were like... thousands of sidewalk squares between me and the house. I was never going to make it.

I was going to DIE.

"Mommmm!" I cried again.

I finally dragged myself up the driveway several days later. Blood was gushing out from my wound, so much that I was sure I'd left a bright red trail running down the sidewalk for miles and miles and miles. I'd made it to the house without dying, but now I would surely die from blood loss. It wasn't fair. It wasn't my fault! Stupid Jimmy Hershey had dared me to try and jump the old creek bed. HE should have been the one to fall off that unstable old boulder. But no, he made me go first. And now I was going to die from my injuries.

Or maybe I wouldn't die. Maybe they would just have to amputate my leg.

"Mommmm!" I whined as I got the door open. Tears were running in rivers down my cheeks.

"Carter?" a voice called from the kitchen.

"Mom?" I gasped with relief, knowing she would come rescue me. Actually, she wasn't even my real mom. My real mom had died when I was little (well, littler-er), before I could even remember. This one was my step-mom, after marrying Dad a few months ago.

But I never called her 'Step-Mom'. Dad tried to explain it to me once, but saying 'Mom' was just easier. And after never knowing what life could be like with a mother, I really didn't mind that she wasn't my real mom. She still took care of me. She was the ONLY one that took care of me since Dad was always working and never home.

But Mom wasn't home. My new step-sister came out of the kitchen, holding a bowl of ice cream in her hands. She took one look at my bloody stump of a leg and immediately looked worried. "Oh, no! What happened?"

"It's Jimmy Hershey's fault!" I whined, feeling death crawling up my limbs with lightning bolts of pain.

She put the bowl down on the dining table and came over to me in the living room. "Let me look at it."

"And do what? You can't do anything. I need a grown-up!"

She bit her lip and shrugged. "But Mom's out. She said she forgot something at the store and had to go."

"Oh, no! I'm gonna DIE!"

My step-sister smiled and shook her head at me. "I won't let you die. Here, come with me." She took me by the hand, and ignoring my pain, she led me into the kitchen.

"OWW!" I yelled at her. "My leg HURTS! I can't WALK!"

"Oh, okay. Well then you just sit here." She moved me to the couch and sat me down. She then turned and started walking away. "I'll get the medicine kit."

"And do what? You're not a doctor! You're only nine!"

She grinned at me. "I still know how to put on a band-aid." And then she turned and skipped into the kitchen.

I sulked for a minute, rolling my eyes. So what if she was nine? I was seven, which was almost nine. What could a girl do that I couldn't? I was going to die without proper medical attention. Didn't she know that?

But she came back holding a plastic box with a red cross logo on top of it. She knelt down on the floor next to my leg, then reached forward and grabbed onto my foot. Instinctively, I kicked her away. "You can't do anything," I complained.

"I'm your sister now. I can help you."

"You're not even my real sister."

Gently, she touched my knee and looked up at me. There was something in her big green eyes that made me stop squirming, and made me look straight at her. And very calmly, she stated, "You're the only brother I have. I'm going to take care of you."

For some reason, I believed her. And she did take care of me.

It hurt when she disinfected my cut, but she held my hand and told me the pain would go away soon. The pain -did- go away, just like she said. And for the first time, I realized that I wasn't going to die.

She cleaned up the cut and put on a big glob of Neosporin, adding more when I asked her to really make sure everything was covered. Then she put on the band-aids, needing two since the cut was so big. And when she was done, she bent down and kissed my knee, promising, "Everything will be okay."

Her words reverberated around my head. Everything will be okay. Everything will be okay.

I believed her, because she was my big sister. She was an angel, sent from heaven to save me from certain death. When she was done, I smiled at her and said, "Thank you, Cameron."

She didn't say 'you're welcome'. Instead, she looked up at me and replied, "I love you, little brother."

-- MAY 1996, 8TH GRADE --

Elena parked the car in the garage. After my dad's business had taken off, he'd moved us to some ritzy neighborhood and hired a couple of servants around the house. Elena was my old, wrinkly nanny who drove like the grandma she really was. I didn't need a nanny. I wasn't a kid anymore. I'd just turned fourteen. I could take care of myself.

But I still couldn't drive, so I suppose getting a ride to and from school was better than walking.

Shutting the engine off, Elena sniffed the air and then looked over at me with a sigh. "You should probably take a shower," she said in her thick Mexican accent. Gawd I hated Mexicans. They all smelled funny.

Speaking of smelling funny, I couldn't blame the stench in the car on Elena. Not this time, since it was coming from my own body. Rotting bits of food were stuck to my clothes and skin, even after I'd vigorously tried to brush them off. The banana chunks in my hair especially were going to be hard to get out.

It wasn't MY fault I was the new kid in town. I didn't want to move here and leave all my friends. It also didn't help that I was the shortest kid in eighth grade. I was a late-bloomer, that's all. That didn't give guys the right to pick on me whenever they felt like it. I wasn't some punching bag that existed for their amusement. But rights or not, I was still the kid most picked on at school. And the bullies had decided that today was good day to shove me into the cafeteria dumpster before it got picked up at the end of the day. But not until after they'd stolen all the money out of my wallet, of course. Sixty bucks was a big deal to punks like that.

Glumly, I kicked open the car door and kicked it shut after me. I then stomped my way up the stairs, pissed off at this cruel world and all the bullies who made my life so miserable.

I went straight to my room and started ripping my clothes off. I threw them straight into the hamper, rotting food and all. Elena had to do my laundry. Let HER deal with that crap. And wearing only my tighty-whitey underwear, I went and opened the door to my adjoining bathroom.

Now in my defense, I didn't know Cameron was already in the bathroom. The shower was off, and there were no sounds coming from inside. Plus, she should have locked the door. The bathroom was a jack-and-jill shared between her bedroom and mine, and we'd already had a couple of near-accidents since moving in.

But she didn't lock the door, so I opened it and went straight in. And though she technically was in the shower, the water wasn't running and the shower curtain had been pulled wide open as she reached for her towel. So standing before me, literally two feet away, was the most gorgeous girl I'd ever seen in my entire life.

Unlike me, Cameron was an early-bloomer. She'd first got her boobs when she was eleven and they'd only been getting bigger until now, almost fully grown at sixteen. I hadn't really paid much attention, other than to notice that older boys would all stare at her chest whenever they talked to her. And I knew that a chick's boobs were supposed to be really important, since lots of the boys at school would comment about the nice rack on some girl or another. But I hadn't really seen the appeal. They were just boobs; half of the people on the planet had them.

But for some reason, I got the appeal right now. Maybe it was because I'd never seen a naked pair of boobs before. Her nipples were just like mine, small and crinkly and dark pink. But hers were bigger, much bigger, sticking out like pencil erasers.

I'd also heard guys talking about "hourglass" figures. Cameron didn't really have one yet. She was still pretty skinny, with small hips. But as I continued my analysis of her figure, I noticed that she had hair growing between her legs, the same dark color as on her head.

I'd just gotten my first hairs down there a couple of months back. It was weird, growing hair around my penis. I wouldn't say it was the most interesting thing, but it was different. At least, I knew I was supposed to have it, since seemingly every other guy my age had a full bush by now. Cameron didn't quite have the full bush; hers was neatly trimmed into an even surface like when our gardener Omar mowed the lawn.

That was about all I had time to analyze, because once Cameron realized I'd come into the room, she shrieked and grabbed at her towel. Realizing that I wasn't supposed to be there, I immediately turned and closed the door behind me. And as I stood there, facing back into my room while panting to catch my breath, I realized that I was feeling a sensation I'd never felt before.

It was coming from my crotch, and as I looked down, I realized that something was pushing out my tighty-whitey underwear from the inside. And after sticking a thumb into the waistband, I pulled it open enough to realize the source was my rock hard penis.

I had a boner.

I still didn't understand boners. I mean, I'd taken the fifth grade sex ed class and knew how babies were made, but I still didn't understand what made a boy's penis hard. The teachers talked about sexual arousal, but I'd never felt sexual arousal ... until, I guess ... right now.

That meant my body wanted to have sex. Oh, it didn't mean I was GOING to have sex. Shit, I had absolutely no clue what to do. But my body wanted to. And apparently, my body wanted to do it with Cameron.

After all, it was seeing her naked that had done this to me, right? I'd seen my first naked woman, and my instincts were reacting the way they'd been designed to. My heart was racing. My whole body felt flushed. And overall, I felt ... good.

Still curious about my boner, I kept the waistband of my underwear open with my left thumb and reached in with my right hand. It just felt natural to circle the rod with my fingers. After all, the thing looked like some strange bar sticking out from my pelvis. So I held onto the bar, and surprisingly, that felt pretty good. Reflexively, I stroked my hand out, rubbing the bar, and that felt even -better-.

This is masturbation! I realized. I'd talked to enough guys at school to know the basics of jacking off. Again, I'd never understood the appeal, but as pleasurable sensations started running up my spine, I started to figure it out. One boy, Sadi Kapur, talked about how he masturbated every single chance he could get. His parents were really strict about him NOT doing it, but he couldn't help it. I'd thought he was crazy, but I didn't think that anymore.

And then I remembered why I was masturbating. It was because the sight of Cameron's naked body had given me a boner. And as I thought about the sight of Cameron's naked body, the feelings got even better. Up, down, up, down I stroked, breathing harder as I pumped my boner. Cameron was so pretty. Everyone knew it. But not everyone got to see her naked. Only -I- had gotten to see that. She had such pretty boobs. I decided right then and there that HERS were perfect. She had such a pretty body. And certainly, Cameron had the prettiest face in the WORLD.

Suddenly, the muscles in my belly tightened. I kept stroking my shaft, not really understanding what was going on other than that it felt really, REALLY good. And then with a groan, I felt a wave of release coursing through my body. That felt even BETTER.

But then my penis started to feel really sensitive. I stopped stroking it, because continuing only made it hurt, actually. And as I pulled my hand out of my underwear, I realized that there was some sticky wetness coating my fingers.

Semen. Oh, yeah. I'd learned about this in sex ed, too.

Quickly, I went to grab some tissues to clean myself up. But then I remembered how much other crap was all over my body, and I realized that I still hadn't taken a shower. Going back to the bathroom door, I knocked carefully, calling out, "Cameron? Are you still in there?"

She didn't answer, and after calling for her one more time, I cracked the door open.

The bathroom was empty. The door to her room was closed. So sighing in relief, I went inside and locked her door to make sure SHE didn't accidentally come in and see me.

But then I thought about it. Fair was fair, right? I'd seen her, so if she wanted to come in, I was honor-bound to let her, right? And after a moment's thought, I went back to her door and unlocked it. She could come in if she wanted.

Then I climbed in and began to take a shower. I was right: the banana chunks were especially hard to get out.

But about five minutes in, I started thinking about what Cameron looked like when she was standing right about where I was standing now. I remembered the look of her face, with her dark hair slicked back against her scalp. I remembered the swells of her breasts, and how pretty those nipples had been. I remembered the tuft of hair between her legs, and wondered what things looked like down there. And all of a sudden, I had another boner.

Well, I knew what to do with it now.

-- NOVEMBER 1996, FRESHMAN YEAR --

"Nnnghh..." I groaned quietly, doing my best to stifle the sound. I couldn't help it. I'd been jerking my dick for five minutes already, in anticipation of this moment. So I was already pretty wound up, and I simply couldn't keep myself from moaning the instant Cameron's towel dropped to the floor.

I clenched my teeth and ducked my head to force myself to hold it in. This took my gaze away from my homemade peephole, and I used every ounce of willpower I had to bury the urge to groan so that I could get back into position and stare into my step-sister's room.

I'd only had access to this peephole for a few weeks. I first drilled it on a Friday night when she was cheerleading at the football game. I'd made my selection very carefully. Mom and Dad frequently bought some expensive art pieces to decorate the house, including putting them in our rooms. One painting in particular had an elaborate, thick frame. I drilled the hole in the lower shadow of this frame, so that Cameron was unlikely to notice it unless she ducked down. On the other side was the inner wall of my closet. And if I knelt sideways in my closet, I could peer through and see most of my step-sister's room.

Every night, I knelt here and jerked off as she got out of the shower. Every night, I watched her go through her room wearing just a towel tied off between her breasts. She'd rummage through her closet for her pajamas. And then in a single glorious moment, she'd drop the towel, bend over to put on her panties, and then stand up to shrug into her bra.

I used to try and watch her before she went to bed as well, presuming correctly that she would remove the bra before going to sleep. But Cameron's method for bra removal at night was to unclip it and slip it out from beneath her pajama tops, so I never got to see anything.

This was the highlight of my day, as it was every day. Cameron's body was so ... perfect. Even though she was only sixteen, she had already sprouted to 5'10", taking after her fashion model mother. She wore a 34B bra; I knew because I'd gone snooping in her drawers one afternoon. Her dark brown hair was straight and silky, running halfway down her back when she didn't put it up in braids. And she had an exotically-perfect face with angular eyes that drew the attention of full-grown men wherever she went.

I knew she was more beautiful than any adult woman on the planet, whether actress or porn star or singer or whatever. No one could get my heart racing the way she could with a mere flick of those green eyes. No one could brighten my day the way she could with the smallest smile. No one could get my dick harder than Chinese arithmetic the way she could with mere seconds of glorious nudity.

I controlled my moan and got my eye lined up with the peephole just in time to catch her bending over and putting her panties on. Her boobs weren't as big as some of the bombshells at school, but they were still nice handfuls. At least, I assumed they'd be nice handfuls if I could ever actually get my hands on them. I'd sorta tried once, a month ago, when we'd been sitting on the couch together. But I think she felt my hand gliding up her side and she shifted over to lean in the other direction.

In any case, I pretty much lost it when Cameron stood up and put her hands on her hips. There was a full length mirror on the back of her door, and turning so that she'd profiled herself to me, she paused while fully topless and stared at her own reflection off to my right.

Yes ... You're fucking gorgeous. Just keep staring at yourself. Stare at yourself the way -I- stare at you. Stay like that forever. Don't move. Don't get dressed. Just stay there and be perfect and let me fantasize about caressing your naked body until I ... Ohh ... Oh, SHIT.

"Hnnngh!" I couldn't help but grunt, caught on the verge of ejaculation. My stomach muscles clenched, and uncontrollably I pitched forward. And horror of horrors, my forehead bumped right against the wall.

Dimly, muffled by the wall, I heard Cameron call out nervously, "Hello?"

Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Please don't come looking! Nothing here! You're all alone in your room! You're all alone- CRAP!

Covering her breasts, my step-sister tracked the sound of the thump over to the general vicinity of that big-ass painting. She stood in front of it, staring thoughtfully. And I knew I was seconds away from getting caught.

I have to get out of here.

Panicking, I pushed myself up onto my feet to get out of the closet, to get away from the wall where I might be discovered. But as I stood up, my head banged into the hangars holding my clothes above me. I lost my balance, and as I tried to recover, my left knee banged into the wall again.

"Shit!" I grunted, and then clapped my hand over my mouth upon realizing I'd said that out loud. Immediately, I ducked back down and peered through the peephole, trying to find out if I'd been discovered. And to my absolute horror, Cameron had ducked down to her knees and was staring right at the small hole drilled below the art frame.

Oh, hell.

I scrambled away from the peephole, lest Cameron stick her eye to it and stare right out at me. I stumbled back into my bedroom, gasping for breath and grabbing my head, wondering what the hell I was going to do. But before I could make a decision, my bedroom door opened up and my step-sister came darting in.

"Carter! What are you doing?"

My jaw dropped. "Nothing! Nothing!" I stammered defensively, sounding anything but honest.

Her eyes dropped down my body, and hurriedly she shut the door behind her. "You're NAKED!" she screeched.

Belatedly, I clamped my hands over my crotch, having to cup my palms because I was still hard, even after all the recent panic. "Uh, I can explain."

"You made a -peephole- into my room?"

"Uh ... uh..."

"Why?"

I blinked rapidly and answered automatically, "Why do you THINK?"

Now it was her turn to stop, her jaw dropping as realization finally dawned. "Were you ... jacking off?"

I blushed bright pink, still covering my privates as I backed away. I didn't verbally answer.

"Oh my gawd..." she drawled in shock. "I'm your sister!"

"STEP-sister!"

"Doesn't matter!"

"Of course it does!"

"CARTER!"

"I couldn't help it! You're so beautiful!" I whimpered.

Her head jerked back, her jaw dropping open. Blinking, she just stared at me for several seconds before finding her voice enough to say, "Me?"

"LOOK at you!" I reached out with my right hand, gesturing at her from head to toe before realizing what I'd done and then clamping my hand back over my crotch.

Cameron blushed and looked. She'd thrown on her pajama top, though it was unbuttoned from throat to tails, leaving a tantalizingly sexy strip of bare skin from neck to belly button, also showing off the budding swells between her breasts. She wore her panties, simple white cotton with pastel-colored flowers decorating them. But those were her only articles of clothing.

"You're beautiful..." I breathed, absolutely enraptured by her. And without even thinking about it, I let my eyes rove up and down her barely-clothed body, feeling the resurgence of lust coursing through my veins. And instead of covering my privates, I found my right hand stroking my dick while my left hand cradled my balls.

Cameron's eyes went wide as her gaze dropped down. "Carter ... what are you doing?"

I looked down and realized I'd started masturbating again. "I told you," I whimpered. "I can't help it."

"Carter..." she warned in a disgusted tone, but her eyes were riveted to my crotch. I realized that she was staring at my prick, transfixed as if she'd never seen one before. And feeling encouraged, I pulled my left hand away and opened up all the fingers on my right hand, save for my thumb and index finger, which continued stroking.

"You're so beautiful," I repeated.

Still staring at my prick, she asked in a faraway tone. "How long have you been doing this?"

"Masturbating? Since May when I accidentally saw you in the shower. Remember?"

She blinked and looked up at my face. She winced, but nodded. Yeah, she remembered. But then she closed her eyes and shook her head. "No ... I meant ... uh ... How long has that peephole been there?"

I grimaced, but didn't stop stroking. "Just a few weeks."

"Weeks?" she asked incredulously. "And how many times have you spied on me?"

I shrugged, still jacking off. "Every night."

Those green eyes darted up to me, disgust mixed with curiosity. "EVERY night?"

"You're incredible," I sighed dreamily.

Embarrassed by the flattery, Cameron blushed and looked down, eyeing my prick again. "I'm not that pretty."

"Of course you are. You're the most beautiful girl in school."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not. Annie Fisher is totally the hottest girl in school. And there are so many other girls on the cheerleading squad alone that are prettier than me. They certainly have more guys going after them."

"None of them compare to you."

"Carter..."

"I'm serious. I know what I'm talking about."

"You're fourteen. How much can you possibly know about women?"

"I know what I see. And I see the most beautiful girl not only in school, but in the whole world."

"Bullshit."

"I mean it."

Cameron stared into my eyes while I remained there, continuing to jerk off. She was breathing heavily, focusing intently as she scanned my gaze. And after another few seconds, she stood up straight. "You really mean that, don't you?"

I nodded. "I do."

"So you've been jerking off every night while spying on me?"

"Just while you get dressed after your shower."

She blinked. "And you can see me naked?"

I nodded.

"But that's only like ... ten seconds."

"It's enough."

"Enough for what."

"To make me cum."

She blinked rapidly, and then stared down at my prick again. "So ... seeing me naked makes you cum?"

I nodded.

She was breathing harder now. I could see that her skin was flushed, and not just from post-shower heat. She stared at my prick again, watching as I slowly pumped the shaft up and down. And after pursing her lips for a moment, she looked back up at me. "So if you see me naked now, you'll cum?"

I nodded. "Pretty damn fast."

Without a word, Cameron reached down and pulled her pajama top open and to the sides. I had an unobstructed view of her creamy breasts, capped with fully-erect dark pink nipples. And to my utter disbelief, she actually put her hands on her waist and proudly thrust her chest out for my viewing pleasure.

"Unnnghhh," I groaned, feeling the pleasure rapidly shoot from my eye sockets, down my spine, and light a fire in my loins. I gripped my prick a lot tighter and sped up my stroking. And after less than a minute, I grunted and shot a ribbon of creamy jizz through the air.

"Eep!" Cameron squealed and backed away, worried for a moment that I was going to spray her. But though I shot that first wad pretty far, it only got a couple of feet away from me and fell harmlessly to the carpet between us. The second jet didn't even get that far. And by the end, I was merely pumping out dribbles that ran down over my own fingers.

"Nnn-gaaaahhh..." I sighed when I was finished, hunching over and finally removing my hand from my prick.

Cameron stared as if in shock at what had just happened. She looked at me, looked at the cum staining the floor, and then looked at my deflating dick. And after a minute or so of awkward silence, she simply turned and ran out the door.

It was worth it.

-- MARCH 1997, FRESHMAN YEAR --

"Do it."

"Hngh ... Hngh..."

"Come on. Do it! Cum! Cum!"

"Ngh! Ngh! Fuck! Fuck! Ohh ... CAMERON!" I groaned and let fly, firing rope after rope of creamy jizz into the air in front of me.

"Ahh!" Cameron turned her head at the last instant, protecting her face. But at the same time, she thrust her chest forward, leaning into the spray as my cum splattered down all over her boobs and belly.

My legs turned to jello, and wobbly on my feet, I staggered back until my calves hit the front of my bed and my ass dropped down onto the mattress. Gasping for oxygen, I planted my hands behind me to keep myself from falling onto my back. The absolute LAST thing I wanted was to lose sight of my gorgeous step-sister writhing on the chair in the throes of her orgasm.

She wasn't quite fully naked, still wearing her panties. It was a concession she wouldn't give me, claiming that keeping her panties on would keep her from going too far.

Cameron and I had different definitions of what was "too far". Honestly, I don't think I even had a limit. But for Cameron, she drew the line at mutual masturbation. She would sit in the chair in front of me wearing nothing but her skimpy panties, rubbing her tits, diddling her clit, and bringing herself to orgasm after orgasm while watching me pound my meat. But I couldn't touch her. No physical part of my body could touch her, except for my cum. She never came harder than when the hot, creamy goo sprayed all over her naked breasts.

Scratch that, she usually came harder when she rubbed my spunk into her skin after I sprayed down her boobs. Like now, she was screaming in ecstasy as she vigorously caressed her now C-cup mammaries with her left hand, smearing the slimy jism into her pores. And her right hand continued writhing out of sight, my view blocked by the front of her panties while the most gorgeous girl in the world thrashed and moaned in ultimate pleasure.

What felt like an hour later, Cameron started to come down from her high. She'd kept her eyes closed while in the throes of her climax, squeezing the lids tightly shut while she'd thrashed and bucked hard enough to nearly topple the chair. Her emerald irises glittered as she opened those eyes to look at me, so she had a full two seconds to realize what I was doing before my lips sealed tightly over her mouth.

"Mmm..." Cameron hummed happily into our very first kiss. Her left hand came up to cup the side of my head, just behind my ear. She pulled me closer, a growl forming in the bottom of her throat as ecstatic pleasure met carnal desire and she pivoted her face ever so slightly to allow her lips to press ever more urgently against mine.

But a second later, she realized what was happening, and then her right hand abruptly came up and pushed me away. "Carter!" she shrieked. "We can't DO that!"

I sputtered for a few seconds, my mind awhirl as I tried to process the whiplash of lust, kiss, and then abrupt rejection. "Wha-what? Can't do what? Kiss?"

"You're my brother!"

"But Cameron..." I whimpered in desperate agony. "I love you!"

"Carter..." she sighed, sounding apologetic. "I know you do. I love you, too."

I shook my head. "You don't understand. I LOVE you."