My name is Kim, and this is the story of the sexual experience that changed my life.

It was my third week back home from college after my freshman year. I was three months away from being nineteen and liked being grown up. My mom was cool; she'd given up on trying to treat me like her little girl, the way she had in my senior year of high school, so we got along really well nowadays. Even better, my asshole dad was out of the picture. He'd left Mom for this widow with tons of money, and all we ever saw of him was his support checks.

All in all, it could have been a great summer but for one problem: my fourteen-year-old baby sister Cindy had grown into an obnoxious, whiny brat.

She'd been a pretty sweet kid growing up, but something about becoming a teenager had driven her nuts. To begin with, she was so goddamn needy -- always demanding attention, then having hissy fits when she didn't get it. It was absurdly easy to piss her off, too. She took offense at anything and everything, convinced the world was out to rain on her parade. I'd been a bit of a handful in my teen years, sure, but nothing like the drama queen Cindy had evolved into.

Even when she wasn't in a tizzy about something, Cindy was always hanging around, expecting me to keep her amused -- and I no longer had any way to escape her, except in the bathroom. See, my mom had always been into making jewelry, a skill she'd picked up from her dad back when she was a teenager, and while I was away at college she decided to try selling it to bring in extra income. So she started a mail-order business that she installed in Cindy's old room, and my sister moved into mine. Now that I was home, she and I had to share our personal space -- and being her roommate sucked, to say the least.

Worst of all, Cindy's constant presence put a real damper on my sex life.

I'd thought of myself as bisexual by the time I graduated high school, but a few months of college convinced me that I was a lesbian -- and a hot, sexy-as-hell lesbian at that! At my college there were a lot more girls than guys, and most of the females were at least open to the idea of experimenting. I was the proverbial kid in the candy store, fucking one girl after another. I never slept alone in my dorm room if I could help it, and if one of my lovers didn't want to spend the night, my roommate -- a math nerd, but kinda cute -- was always happy to get naked and share my bed.

I'd counted on being able to sneak girls into the house late at night, but having to share a room with Cindy put the kibosh on that but good. I could always go out and meet a girl somewhere else, but it was tricky -- we only had one car, and Mom needed it too much of the time. Even when I was able to go out, Cindy made a big fat deal about me having fun without her, hitting me with all kinds of nosy questions about what I was up to. It was exhausting, coming up with cover stories about why I needed the car and why Cindy couldn't tag along. Mom was being cool, but I wasn't sure that she wouldn't freak out if I told her I was gay, so I wanted to keep that a secret for the time being.

Hell, with Cindy constantly underfoot, it was hard for me to get enough privacy to masturbate! And on top of that I had to deal with her bitchy, irritating attitude all the time. It was too much, damn it. Something had to give.

So I ran the problem around and around in my mind for a few days ... and suddenly, out of the blue, I came up with the greatest idea ever -- a plan that, if successful, would not only fix Cindy's attitude, but make my summer a hell of a lot more exciting.

The next morning, I put on one of my casually slutty outfits -- a pair of denim shorts cut off just under my pussy and a tank top I'd made out of one of my old gym t-shirts from 8th grade by cutting the sleeves off and the collar out. I added a gold ankle bracelet my mom gave me a year or so ago. Dressed like that, I knew I could have at least a few girls looking twice as I sauntered past.

That day, though, it wasn't about heading over to the mall to shop and flirt with the cute girls there, much as I enjoyed that. No, this was the first phase of Operation Adjust Cindy's Attitude.

Phase Two began with me tracking down my baby sister. Not that it was hard to find her -- Cindy was in our room, sprawled in the middle of her bed in skimpy panties and an old faded t-shirt that was about four sizes too big for her. It was, in fact, my dad's old t-shirt, one that I'd worn for a nightie all through high school and that had disappeared right before I packed my stuff to go to college. She was thumbing through some stupid teen magazine with that bored pout of hers that never failed to irritate me. For the moment, however, my plan was to make nice.

"I'm going to the mall," I told her. "You can come if you want, but be ready to go in five minutes."

Her eyes narrowed, wondering why I was inviting her to join me when I usually used any excuse I could to ditch her. I knew, though, that she'd want to tag along too much to ask any questions.

"Sure!" she exclaimed. She tossed the magazine into the wall with a page-fluttering thud and scrambled to her feet, giving me a quick flash of her bare legs and panty-covered butt.

Annoying as my little sister was, I had to admit that she was already totally cute, sure to grow up into an absolute sex bomb.

I drank a Coke in the living room while counting off five minutes, then strolled into the garage. God, Cindy was already there.

"Are we goinnnng?" she shrilled, shifting from one sneakered foot to the other as she stood impatiently by the car.

"Yes, yes, yessssss!" I snapped at her, pretending to be annoyed, pulse quickening at the thought of the fun I planned to have soon when I turned the tables on my bratty sister ... my bratty, sexy little sister.

As soon as we got in the car, Cindy reached for the radio, which was set to the college station I like. I slapped her hand hard -- a sharp little CRACK sound echoing in the garage -- and said, "Put your seatbelt on." Cindy pouted, but sullenly tugged the shoulder harness down and fastened it across her waist. I buckled in too and started the car.

Three blocks away from the house, Cindy made a face at the Sonic Youth track that was playing. "This sucks," she declared, and reached for the radio again.

This time I slapped her face with a deft backhand that left a red mark on her cheek. The CRACK was louder this time.

Cindy was stunned. Neither of my parents ever hit us, not even spankings when we were little. She sat frozen, gaping at me, mouth wide open. I'd just wheeled the car onto the main drag when she finally got her voice back.

"YOU CAN'T HIT ME!" she screamed, in that fire alarm voice that always set my jaw on edge. "Y-you -- I'M TELLIN' MOM YOU DID THAT AN' YOU'RE GONNA GET -- mmmmppphh!"

That last came because I'd leaned over a few inches, which my lap belt allowed me to do because I'd fastened it loosely, and clapped my hand hard over Cindy's mouth. At that point, I executed a quick right hand turn, wrenching the car into the Jiffy Lube parking lot. Switching off the ignition, I shoved her away from me. At that point, she was too startled to make a peep.

"Now, listen up, you little shit," I told Cindy, keeping my voice low and even, "I got you out of the house so we could have a little chat about your behavior. You've been an absolute bitch to me and Mom, and you're driving us both nuts. I've had it up to here, and I'm not gonna tolerate this bullshit from you for one more day. Maybe Mom won't discipline you like you deserve, but I'll take a goddamn belt to your ass if you don't shape up. You hear me!?"

Cindy gave me a wounded look, her lower lip jutting out. "That's not fair," she whined. "You and Mom are always ganging up on me. You don't even try to understand how I feel about..."

"There you go again!" I snapped, cutting her off. "Nobody's ganging up on you, damn it. See, that's exactly what I'm talking about. You carry on like the whole world revolves around Cindy. If you don't get every single thing you want, exactly when you want it, you complain and whine and whine and complain until everyone around you is totally miserable -- especially Mom. Listen, I've had enough of your bratty behavior. Enough!" I smacked the back of her headrest, hard.

Cindy was gaping at me, eyes huge. "What ... what is it you want m-me to do?" she whispered, now looking seriously scared -- which was at least part of what I wanted. Now I had to calm her down before she started sniveling.

"Listen," I said, gently brushing her hair out of her eyes with the back of my hand. She flinched at first, then submitted, closing her eyes and pouting. "I'm not gonna be mean to you if you don't make me. I love you, even though you've been an utter pain in the ass ever since I got home." While I spoke, I started up the car again, exiting the parking lot. "I swear, sometimes you make me wish I was still back at school instead of on vacation."

That really struck home. Cindy sank down in her seat, looking miserable. "I'm -- I'm sorry if I've been that awful to you and Mom ... I didn't know I was, really. W-what can I do to be better?"

I took a deep breath. Here goes. "I'll make a deal with you. First, you can start hanging out with me more often. Second, I'm gonna teach you some stuff about makeup and hair, and help you pick out clothes, and teach you about how to behave like a real woman. But that's if you think you can pay attention and do like I tell you. And there's gotta be some serious attitude adjustment. No more temper tantrums, and a lot less griping and getting all bent out of shape about every little thing. If you get yourself together and try to act like a civilized human being, then we can be friends, you and me. Just like we used to be, okay? But if you keep being a little bitch, then I promise you this: I'll make your life a living hell. So ... what's it gonna be?" By then, I'd reached the entrance of the mall.

Cindy sniffled a few times, nibbled at her lower lip in a way that made her look eight years old, then finally said, softly, "I want us to be f-friends again."

"Good," I said, pulling into a dark corner of the mall's left-hand parking garage, where you could get a couple of hours of privacy if you wanted. I'd used it for a makeout spot many times myself, because nearly everyone else parked on the right-hand side. I switched off the ignition and turned back to my sister. "If you really mean that, then yeah, we can be friends. I'll teach you about grownup stuff you need to know ... things you can't go to Mom about. Understand?"

Cindy stared at me, then sniffled and blinked. "Teach me what? You mean, you want to teach me about, um, sex?" She was toying with her hair nervously. "Y-you think I'm ready for that... ?"

I smiled, casually placing a hand on her bare thigh. "Baby, you're ready to have sex with anyone you want. You are old enough now -- and it's the greatest!" Then I paused, my next remark very calculated. "Well ... I don't know, maybe you think sex is kinda gross..."

"Um, no, no," Cindy said, hastily, blushing a little and looking away. "I mean, I'm not a baby, I know about this stuff. It's just..." She looked up at me shyly. "I haven't done anything -- I mean, not much." She hesitated, then smiled. "So ... will you show me how to, to be sexy?"

I grinned, but only inwardly. I had her in the palm of my hand now...

"Hmmm," I said thoughtfully. "Well, I'll try, I guess." I gazed at her, tapping my teeth with my fingernail like I was thinking about what I might to teach her first. Of course, I knew exactly what I wanted. "Let's see. Do you know how to kiss?"

"Well ... kinda."

I reclined my car seat back as far as it would go. "Okay, sis ... come share my seat and show me how good you are at it."

Her eyes grew wide. "You want me to kiss you?!"

I shrugged and tried to look exasperated. "If you don't want to..."

"It ... it just seems a little weird," she mumbled, blushing hotly, though her eyes told me that she found the idea of kissing her big sister an intriguing one.

I started toying with her hair. "You don't have to only have sex with boys, you know," I whispered. "Fooling around with other girls can be even better."

She stared at me in disbelief. "Have you, um, had s-sex with other girls?"

I nodded, a wicked smile on my lips. "I have," I murmured, "and I loved it."

She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, then giggled. "Okay!" she squealed, squeezing into my seat next to me. It was a tight fit, but that only heightened the mood. I placed a hand on Cindy's cheek and drew her face to mine, my lips parting...

Two minutes later, Cindy broke away and sat back. "How was that? I mean, I've only practice kissed with Jane, but she thinks I'm pretty good..."

My heart was pounding like a jackhammer, my nipples were hard as bullets and my pussy a swamp, but I kept my voice cool. Damn, my little sister had one hot little mouth!

"That was ... pretty nice," I said. "You are a good kisser, babe -- but you could be even better." I opened my door. "Come on, let's get in the back, there's a little more room to stretch out. I want to show you some other stuff."

Cindy got into the back without any protest. In fact, she seemed downright eager. I lay back on the seat and pulled my little sister down on top of me with a growl of lust.

She came to me eagerly, her lips meeting mine again and her tongue immediately darting into my mouth. We both moaned as our kiss grew deep and passionate. I was on fire, more aroused than I'd been in weeks. So far, this crazy plan of mine had succeeded beyond my wildest hopes. I'd figured it would be about a week or so before Cindy would let me make out with her, much less take the initiative herself!

I slid my hands up under the oversized t-shirt she was wearing and undid her small bra. We continued to French kiss as my hands found her apple-sized breasts and fondled them. Her nipples quickly stiffened to the touch.

Cindy broke away, panting, then clumsily shrugged out of her t-shirt and bra. The car windows were tinted and we were in a deserted part of the mall, so I wasn't worried about being seen. Without a word I drew my sister back down to me, taking her left nipple into my mouth. Cindy moaned in surprised delight as I nibbled and sucked at the tip of one breast, then the other.

To my surprise, I felt her hands moving clumsily about the waistband of my denim cutoffs, seeking the button. I squirmed around to give her better access, and she had them unsnapped and halfway down my legs in a flash.

"I wanna see your pussy," she gasped, her voice loud in the close confines of the car.