Pixdaus

"It's like kissing your sister."

Usually, that phrase has a less than savory connotation. People tend to associate it with a less than desirable outcome, as in contests that end in a tie.

It has a whole different meaning for me, though. When I hear it, I think about my sister, Amy.

Such hasn't always been the case, though, but we've become close in ways that would surprise a lot of people... if they only knew.

Amy's a couple of years older than I am. We were pretty close growing up. Of course there were times where I was the pesky little brother, but that was my job, right? More often than not, I was allowed to tag along, and it seemed like we did just about everything together.

Then she was a teenager. Her interests changed. Amy discovered boys, and suddenly, things were different, though not necessarily in a good way.

Her first real crush was on a boy two years older than her. I never did find out what happened, but I remember one day when mom called her a slut and a tramp as Amy stormed to her room in tears. Like just about everything that troubles teenagers, all of that passed, and Amy recovered with no serious emotional scars to show for it.

As for me, I discovered girls the day Beverly Allen kissed me on the cheek. She and Amy were the best of friends, and Bev, an only child, thought I was the sweetest little brother anyone could ask for.

If she'd only known.

Amy knew, though. She rolled her eyes, and as she pulled her friend away by the hand, I exhaled a deep, airy breath.

Amy quickly set me straight; Bev was her friend, two years older than me, and I had no chance with her. In short, I needed to find a girl my own age.

That was easier said than done, especially given that none were as sophisticated as Bev.

Fast forward a few years. Amy and I were like two pieces to a puzzle.

We weren't inseparable, but there was a strong bond between us. We looked out for each other like any siblings should; more than once, Amy steered me away from a girl she knew was no good for me. Time usually proved her right.

She had a steady boyfriend, but he worked his after school job so much that she and I were able to hang together.

I was sixteen, Amy was eighteen, and the day she graduated high school was a rude awakening. For both of us. We didn't really talk about it, but we both knew things were about to change in ways we weren't prepared for.

She was about to go to college, and for the first time, we would be separated. Really separated.

When she left, the sudden silence at home was deafening. I didn't really appreciate how much having her around meant to me until she wasn't there.

We didn't see a lot of each other; the occasional weekend, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's. Amy didn't come home for spring break; she went to the beach with friends. Mom was apprehensive, I think because she remembered her spring break trips. Dad was still blinded with a false image of his little princess's innocence.

Amy came home for the summer after her freshman year a changed woman. She was different somehow, in a way I couldn't quite figure. We sat down during the summer and worked on a plan that would help me follow her to college the next year after I finished high school.

All too soon, though, it was time for school to start again, and she was gone.

Amy got into an argument with my mom on the phone three weeks later. I don't know what they were fighting about, but I heard mom mention Amy's name as she was yelling into the phone, and when she'd hung up, she and dad had retreated out of earshot to discuss whatever was wrong. Amy called back an hour later to talk to me, still upset, though she wouldn't tell me what was wrong.

Unlike her freshman year, where visits home were once a month regular, September passed, and then October, with no visit from Amy.

My birthday's at the beginning of November, and I turned eighteen on the first Thursday of the month. I was shocked when I came home from school to find Amy's car in the driveway.

I walked through the front door of our house to the sound of the stereo playing.

"Amy?"

I heard a kitchen cabinet door close, and as I entered the living room, Amy appeared in the edge of the kitchen.

"What are you doing home?" I asked dropping my book bag on the couch.

"I thought I'd come home for your birthday," she said. "Surprised?"

"Yeah," I replied as she hugged me.

"Good," she said, kissing me on the cheek. "Happy birthday."

I hugged her back, and we held on to each other long enough that it was awkward before letting go.

"Are you and mom...?"

"Mom and I have some things we need to work out," she said. "This weekend, though, it's your birthday. That's what I'm focused on."

I went out with friends that night and Amy came along, but only after she and mom had discussed what remained to be done for the party we were having at the house the next day.

We got home pretty late, taking off our shoes once in the house to be as quiet as possible, since it looked like our parents were already asleep.

"I'm really glad you came home, Sis," I said.

"Me, too," she said, leaning against the wall outside her room.

She leaned into her room, tossing her shoes in, then stood back up, facing me.

"I couldn't let you turn eighteen and not be here for it," she said.

"After the argument you and mom had," I said, "I wasn't sure if you were going to come home or not."

"I really wish you wouldn't bring that up," she said, hugging me. "Mom and I will work things out. You don't need to worry about that."

I put my arms around Amy, completing the embrace.

"But thanks for being concerned," she said.

Amy kissed me on the cheek and pressed her cheek against mine. A moment later, she pushed back and kissed me again, this time on the lips. I could swear I felt her tongue brush against my lips.

"Happy Birthday, little brother," she said, resting her forehead on my cheek.

"What...? What was that for?" I asked.

Amy looked up at me and smiled as she bit her lip.

"What?" she asked. "I can't kiss my little brother?"

"For starters," I said, "I'm your younger brother. I'm not little."

I had at least thirty, and probably more like forty pounds on her.

"Whatever," she said, shaking her head and continuing to smile at me. "You will always be my little brother."

Her hands gently grasped my face and she kissed me again, lips gently but firmly pressed against mine.

"And I will always, always love you," she said, sliding her arms around my neck and hugging me.

"I love you, too, Sis," I said.

"I know," she said, pulling back and looking at me. "Good night."

Another kiss, this one quick, but affectionate.

"Good night, Sis," I said as she released me and disappeared into her own room to call it a night.

Just that quickly, it was done and over.

I fumbled with the door to my bedroom as I pushed it shut, my mouth suddenly dry and my heart pounding.

It was the end of a long day, and in spite of what had just happened, sleep took me quickly.

Cliff, one of my high school buddies, and I were playing a video game in the living room the next day when Amy walked through on her way to the kitchen. I had just finished killing off his avatar and I noticed he was focused on anything but the TV screen.

"Was that your sister?" he asked.

"Yeah."

Amy walked back into the living room and bent over to get a book off the edge of the fireplace. Denim stretched across her ass.

"Dude," he whispered, "she's hot."

Cliff had to go home early that afternoon, in spite his best efforts to invite himself to stay.

But he'd given me something to think about.

That was it. That's what was different about Amy.

She was no longer a duckling. Like most college students away from home for the first time and living in the dorms, she'd put on a little weight, typically known as 'the freshman ten.' The extra weight she'd gained had filled her lanky frame out nicely, part of it going straight to her tits and ass.

For the first time, I saw Amy in a whole different light, and as she walked past me again, tight jeans hugging her sweetly sculpted ass, knit shirt clinging to her chest, I realized my buddy was right. She was hot.

Late in the afternoon, friends of the family came over and we officially celebrated my birthday. After the party was over, Amy and I went out with friends again.

The night ran really late, and the two of us practically stumbled up the stairs holding on to one another we were laughing so hard.

When we were off the stairs, Amy turned and leaned back against the wall, still holding on to my arm. She pulled me to her, holding me tight.

"I'm gonna miss you when I go back tomorrow," she said. "I've had a lot of fun this weekend."

"Me, too," I said. "You'll be back in a couple of weeks, though."

"I will," she said, looking at me.

We stood there awkwardly.

"We'd better go to bed," she said.

"Yeah," I said, "we probably should."

"Good night, Andy," she said.

Before I could reply, she kissed me, and like the night before, it was full on the lips.

"Good night, Sis," I said, watching as she disappeared into her room, closing the door behind her.

The next day, she went back to school for the brief time remaining before Thanksgiving, leaving me to ponder the moments of intimacy we'd shared.

Thanksgiving came and went, and we were all too busy eating turkey, watching football and looking forward to the holidays to even notice the days fly by.

A few weeks later, the fall semester ended, and Amy came home for the holidays.

Amy kissed me when we both happened to find ourselves under the mistletoe, but I didn't really think anything about it, because mom did, too. The difference, though, was that Amy snuggled against me on the couch to watch a movie late one night; mom did not do that.

Several days later, on New Year's Eve, we'd gone our separate ways to celebrate with our own friends. Shortly before midnight, I got a call from Bev.

"Andy," she said, "you need to come get Amy."

"Is she okay?" I asked.

"She will be," she said. "Right now, though, she needs you to come and get her."

When I got there, Bev and Denise, another of Amy's friends, were doing their best to keep her from going after Kelly. Amy had witnessed Dave, her boyfriend, kissing another girl, Kelly, and she wasn't happy. Worse, she was drunk.

Staggering drunk, it turned out, as we made our way to my car. Ten minutes later, we were home, and I was glad mom and dad were at a party of their own; they didn't need to see Amy like this.

I don't know how we managed, but somehow we got up the stairs as Amy was waving her arms around, making sure I knew and understood what a total bitch Kelly was.

"She could never love him like I do," Amy said, slumping against the wall. Love sounded like luff, and the rest of her words were slurred just as badly.

"I know, Sis," I said. I needed to get her to bed so she could sleep it off.

"And that bassstard said she kisssses better than I do," she said.

Amy stood there leaning against the wall looking at me, her head weaving with her intoxication.

"You don't believe it, do you?" she asked, leaning against the wall.

"Believe what?" I asked.

"That she's a better kisser," Amy said.

"I..." I had no idea how to answer that.

Amy decided to help me with my answer.

Her arms flew around my neck, heavy like sodden ropes as her lips fell upon mine, her tongue a surprisingly alert vanguard for one so intoxicated.

I was too stunned to resist or object, and instead I found myself responding by sliding my arms around her waist, returning her kiss.

Our lips melded together as one, her tongue enticing mine into an oral dance.

Amy pulled herself closer to me as our lips lingered together, and I became suddenly aware of my cock getting hard.

"See?" Her lips pulled back from mine. "I love you."

Rum assaulted my nose.

"I love you, too, Sis," I said.

Kris' arms fell from my shoulders as she stumbled against the wall, and I momentarily lost my balance as well, falling against her, and Amy sputtered, laughing.

Her hands groped at my chest as I steadied myself, my face mere inches from hers.

"Too many clothes," she said. "I have... way too many clothes on."

I looked down to see Amy's fingers at her waist, unfastening her jeans. I heard the gentle hum of her zipper descending.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Getting undressed, silly," she said. "You need to get undressed, too."

Suddenly her fingers were at work on my jeans, and I caught her hands with mine just before she got them unfastened.

"So you want my shirt off first?" she asked.

Her fingers began working on buttons.

"Amy we need to get you to bed," I said, trying to steer her by her shoulders.

"That's the whole idea," she said, smiling at me and licking her lips. "We take our clothes off and then we..."

Suddenly her bleary eyes cleared and widened.

"I think I'm gonna be sick."

We made it into the bathroom just before an evening of alcoholic indulgence took its toll. I held her hair back as she puked up the contents of her stomach, and then I practically carried her to her bedroom.

Amy was out of gas now, almost completely limp. I managed to get her onto the bed and covered up and was about to walk away when she grabbed my hand.

"Don't go," she said. "Stay with me for a while."

I crawled onto the edge of her bed and lay down beside her as Amy snuggled herself around my arm.

Moments later, she was asleep, breathing hard and deep. I waited a few minutes, got up and left her room.

The next morning, I managed to stop mom from waking her up.

"I think she had a rough night," I said.

"Did she get drunk last night?" mom asked.

"I don't think so," I said. "I know she and Dave had a fight. I think they might have broken up."

A couple of hours later, Amy stumbled into my room, wet hair, towel around her neck, wearing her bathrobe. She sat down next to my desk on the edge of the bed and leaned across the desk towards me.

"How bad was last night?" she asked.

"Which part?" I asked.

She rolled her head and looked up at me.

"How drunk was I and how out of control did I get?"

"Pretty drunk and Bev had me come get you before you pulled Kelly's hair out," I said.

Amy sat up.

"Kelly? What did she do to make me want to pull her hair out?"

"You caught her and Dave making out?"

Amy's shoulders slumped and she sighed heavily.

"I remember now," she said.

Amy laid her head on my desk for a few minutes and then looked at me again.

"When I woke up this morning," she said, "my pants were unzipped and my blouse was all but unbuttoned. Know anything about that?"

"Ummm, yeah," I said. "You were getting undressed in the hall right before you threw up."

Her eyebrows raised.

"Did I do or say anything?" she asked.

I sat silently.

"What did I do?" she asked.

"Besides unzipping my pants?" I asked.

Amy's eyebrows raised and her face turned red.

I nodded.

"And then you threw up and I put you in bed," I said. "That's about it.

"I put you in bed and sat with you until you went to sleep," I said.

Amy got up, tossed her towel on the chair and hugged me. She kissed me gently on the cheek.

"Thanks for bringing me home," she said. "And for being so good to me."

"What was I supposed to do?" I asked.

She didn't answer me; just hugged me again, grabbed up her towel and walked out of my room.

Five months later, it was my turn to graduate high school. My grades and test scores had turned out well, and I started finalizing plans to follow Amy to college. She'd enjoyed another spring break away from home, once again giving mom cause to be riled up.

She arrived home for the summer one week before my graduation, hugging me as tight as anyone after I walked across the stage.

Amy returned to her job as a waitress at a local diner for the summer. She already had a job waiting in the fall at one of the bars off campus, and much of her at home time was spent studying for her future job.

But that was two and half months in the future for both of us. First, we had to survive the summer and work to sock money away. The job I'd had for the last two years working in a local warehouse opened up into an opportunity for a night shift position. The hours would suck, but my money would nearly double.

I jumped on it, wishing like hell I'd had better sense a week later. I'd managed to adjust okay to working nights, sleeping days, but I could already tell going the other direction with it in the fall was going to be a ball buster. My work week was Friday through Tuesday, leaving me with two days off in the middle of the week. Getting sleep on the weekend with everybody home was going to be a challenge.

I leaned against the counter in the kitchen one night wolfing down the last of my hasty breakfast/dinner, looking at Amy as she flipped the pages in one of her books. My sister was doing wonderful things for tight shorts, jeans and swimsuits, and commanding my attention when she trod through the house in the morning, after mom and dad were gone to work, usually wearing a long t-shirt and panties. She caught me looking. As I felt my face flush with embarrassment, she smiled at me.

Amy and I had gone to a movie together shortly after she came home from school, but our schedules were keeping us from spending much time together. Neither of us was happy about that.

At the end of my second week, on my 'Friday,' my entire shift got held over helping repackage a couple of priority shipments, and I didn't get home until after ten in the morning, more than three hours later than usual.

I walked through the front door at home hungry and dead tired. I was too grungy to go into the kitchen, so I went upstairs to take a shower. I'd eat after I cleaned up.

I walked into the bathroom Amy and I shared, noticing she'd already been in and out of the shower.

Fifteen minutes later, clean and feeling much better, I headed downstairs to the kitchen wearing nothing more than a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Amy looked up at me as I walked in.

"You got home kinda late," she said, shifting in her chair. Though she'd taken a shower, she was still only wearing a t-shirt.

"Yeah," I said, opening the fridge. "We had a couple of extra loads we had to work."

"I missed my alarm clock this morning," she said.

I looked at her with raised eyebrows as I sat down across from her.

"Your alarm clock?" I asked.

"Yeah. Every morning, I wake up to the sound of you cranking on the shower. I got an extra hour of sleep this morning without you here," she said.

"I didn't know I was making that much noise," I said.

"It's not you," she said. "It's the water when you turn on the shower."

We sat there in silence for a couple of minutes as she finished eating and I started. When she was done, she pushed away from the table and carried her dishes to the sink.

"This schedule of yours stinks," she said. "How are we supposed to spend any time together?"

We'd hung out a bit the few days before my new work schedule kicked in. Amy and Dave had not gotten back together, and neither of us had a significant other, so we were the default companionship for one another.

"I guess we'll have to make the best out of the time off we have," I said.

"I guess," she said, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

Something about her had my attention, but I couldn't quite place it.

Was she...?

"Are you wearing my underwear?" I asked.

Amy looked down and raised the hem of her t-shirt, revealing that she was, in fact, wearing a pair of my briefs. I'd never actually seen a woman wearing men's briefs before, and my own sister or not, I was speechless.

"I think they look pretty good on me," she said, raising her shirt until her belly was bare, then turning side to side, showing me how the fabric stretched across her ass.