Comforting Sister Ch. 01

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Author’s Note: This is an erotic story about the developing feelings of a brother and sister, their flirting, interactions, and a little romance. The sexual tension keeps escalating and there are plenty of sexy and emotional scenes, but they won’t go all the way before the very end. As always thanks to AsylumSeeker for taking the time to edit my story.


“Summer,” I thought as I watched with anticipation the familiar house grow closer out of the taxi window, “is always such a great time for a college student; no classes, great weather, and more importantly, girls in tight bikinis.”

Like every summer I would be spending the vacation at my parent’s house. Not very glamorous, but they were always eager to see me and my sister, especially our mother; she relished being able to fret over us as if we were still her little darlings. God forbid we dare touch the laundry or cook something. I suspect she never got over me and more recently my sister leaving the house.

Seeing as I would be entirely free of my time, I was planning on spending my days showing off at the beach, flirting with and sexing up the cute girls, no strings attached, before I had to head back to school.

But not today, right now I was very much looking forward to seeing my sister again; we hadn’t seen each other since last summer when she finally decided her major and moved off to some distant, artsy College.

“Here we are,” the driver announced over his shoulder as the taxi slowed to a halt in front of the house. “Fifteen seventy-five.”

I took out my wallet, dug out a twenty and handed it over. “Keep the change,” I offered before getting out, suitcase in hand. I closed it again behind me.

“Thanks,” I heard from the open window as the taxi moved past me, but I had already dismissed it, looking instead at the house.

I had missed it; its well-groomed edges, airy yard, and its familiar contours bringing back childhood memories. Hell of a lot better than some cramped dorm room.

I saw the parent’s cars in the drive; good, looking like they were home. I was at the door in a couple of quick steps. I burst in, smiling expectantly. “Hi, I’m home!”

After a puzzled moment my smile melted in worry; no reactions, no one coming to check the door? This wasn’t like them.

I let my suitcase fall to the floor, forgotten, and hurried in to investigate. Had something bad happened? A nervous look in passing told me there was no one in the living room. I kept running and burst in the dining room, jerking to a halt in shock at the sight greeting me.

Here was my father, standing up and hugging my crying sister, while mother sat at the table, ashen.

“What’s going on,” I blurted out.

Mother turned her sad eyes on me, just now realizing my presence. She wiped her teary eyes with one hand, looked at my sister and then back at me.

“She came back to find that Darren Cypher with another woman,” she explained.

She opened her mouth to speak again but closed it with a snap and buried her face in her hands instead.

I felt anger rising in me. Darren; they’d been going out last summer before she left for college. I thought he was a friend, how could he do this to my sister?

“I knew he was bad news.” Father growled over my sister’s shoulder, patting her back. “I shouldn’t have let you get with him, honey.”

“Dad,” she whined, pushing herself away from his chest and out of his arms. “I love him!” without making eye contact with anyone she ran out the room, her steps soon echoing up the stairs.

“Cindy,” I called, “wait!” I sprang after her, but by the time I reached the stairs I heard a door clang above. I sprinted up and crossed the hallway in record time, stopping before her closed door. I tried the handle; locked.

“Open the door,” I pleaded. “I just want to talk.”

“No,” came her muffled reply. “I don’t want to talk.”

“Please,” I begged. “You don’t have to go through this alone”

She didn’t reply, her only response being her muffled sobs coming through the door. I persevered, but she was deaf to my pleas. Eventually I gave up and skulked away, depressed.

Mom was waiting at the foot of the stairs; she looked at me expectantly as I came down. I shook my head and she deflated.

“She’s such a good girl, why would someone do this to her?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know, Mom.” I walked past her to the foyer and grabbed my suitcase. “Look, I’m not feeling well. I think I’ll go unpack my stuff then get some sleep.”

She walked up to me and encircled me with her arms. I hugged her small frame back with my free arm.

“Good night,” she whispered sadly. “I love you honey.”

“I love you too,” I said, freeing myself from her arms and heading up to my room.

Things didn’t improve any in the next two days; our parents worked most of the day, coming back just before supper, which left me and my sister Cindy alone until then.

She would spend that time alone in her room, crying most of the Gaziantep Gecelik Escort time. I spent my own time watching reruns on the TV and waiting on her in case she would reach out to me, but she didn’t.

The evenings weren’t much better. Mom did manage to get her out of her room for suppers, but she wouldn’t talk to us, just ate and headed back to her room. No amount of coaxing would make her smile.

Her bad mood was contagious; father was furious, mom was in her own shell, and me, I’m not sure how I felt. Depressed I guess, and a little guilty; if it wasn’t for me she would never have met Darren.

How could I have been so blind? I should have known he wasn’t the kind of guy to get in a relationship. One thing was certain; I couldn’t start dating while my sister had her heart broken, it would just make things worse for her.

On the third day as I was watching TV I heard the creak of her door opening, heard her light footsteps coming down the stairs. I got off of the couch and turned off the TV hoping she would finally talk, but she went past the living room heading for the kitchen.

“Sis,” I called as I started going after her. “Wait up!”

She didn’t stop for me; I finally caught up with her in front of the fridge. Coming up from behind I reached and put my hand on her shoulder. She stopped, but didn’t say a word or turn around. I took hold of her other shoulder too, turning her to face me.

My heart caught in my throat; she looked a mess. Her hair was unkempt and looked like she hadn’t brushed it since the day she first locked herself in her room. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, and she looked paler than usual. This wasn’t fair; I wanted to see her smile again, see her happy again. She avoided my eyes, looking down between us.

“Sis,” I pleaded, shaking her shoulders lightly, wishing I could get some life into her. “Please look at me; it’s going to be okay I’m here for you. Talk to me.”

“I just want milk,” she mumbled under her breath. She reached up, removed my hands from her shoulders and turned around toward the fridge again.

I stood there watching, disappointed, as she opened the fridge and took the carton out. She grabbed a glass out of the cupboard and began filling it, but then started shaking in silent sobs, her unsteady hands spilling milk on the counter.

With visible effort she managed to fill the glass halfway, but her sobs were worsening; with a racking sob she slammed the glass and carton on the counter and ran past me, up the stairs into her room.

I let out a sigh dejectedly, wondering when she would get better. It hurt seeing her like this.

I put the carton back in the fridge, grabbed a rag and started cleaning up her mess by wiping the counter.

As I grabbed her glass I lost control of my emotions. My sister, my dear, lively little sister was so wounded she couldn’t even pour a glass of milk for herself. I felt pain, and anger; anger at myself for being so useless, at him for betraying our friendship, and incongruously even at my sister, for not being happy.

In a fit of rage I threw the glass across the room. It hit the wall and shattered sending milk and shards everywhere. I immediately regretted my impulse. How could I be mad at my sister? And I had broken her glass of milk. Holding that glass was the closest I had been to my sister in days.

Deflated and ashamed of myself I fetched the mop and started cleaning, wishing school had never ended.

That evening Cindy didn’t come out of her room for supper. We ate in silence and my parents retired to their room early. As for myself I needed to let some steam off. I grabbed some beers from the fridge and went in the backyard.

I sat down on the grass and my gaze crept up to her window. It was closed but the lights were on. She was probably crying again. I opened a beer and drank heavily from it, trying to drown my emotions. After a couple of gulps it surprisingly came up empty. I threw the bottle across the yard and opened another one.

I don’t know how long I spent outside, but I quickly realized I had drunk too much when I nearly stumbled down on my way back inside. Closing the lights behind me I unsteadily made my way to my room, closed my door with a bang, fumbled with my clothing and slipped under the covers, naked.

Time went by as I turned around in bed, unable to fall asleep. On top of the whole ordeal with my sister I realized I had another problem; I was horny. I’m not the kind of person to go long without sex. Although the alcohol had made it come out, it probably explained part of my own emotions the last few days.

Just thinking about sex made my cock grow erect. I grabbed it and let out a relieved sight as I started stroking up and down, enjoying the feeling. A little release would probably do wonders for my mood.

I had really gotten into it, pumping like crazy, when my door suddenly jerked open. I cried out in surprise, blushing. Getting caught masturbating; I couldn’t think of anything more humiliating..

I couldn’t see anything in the dark, but I heard Cindy sobbing somewhere in the doorway. “Please,” she sniffed. “Can I stay with you like when we were kids? I don’t want to be alone…”

Relief flooded through me; she hadn’t noticed what I what I had been doing. Then what she had just asked registered and I cursed under my breath. Shit!

“Uh,” I began. “I…” Damn! She was finally opening up after all these days. If I turn her back now she may not ever give me a second chance.

“Alright,” I let out nervously.

“Thanks,” she said between two sobs.

She closed the door and I heard her walk to the side of the bed. She slipped under the covers, and then toward me.

I was lying on my back with my erection pushing against my stomach. She came next to me and snuggled against my side, one arm over me and her chest resting against the side of mine, her head against my shoulder. The thin material of her top was the only thing between her breasts and my naked chest. I draped my left arm around her, hugging her as she cried against me.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, holding her tight against me for comfort. Gently I started kissing the top of her head. “I’m here for you.”

She snuggled closer until she was lying halfway on top of me. Her leg came up, knee bent, and she draped it onto my legs and lower stomach. I barely stifled a gasp; I could feel my erection pushing against the lower part of her inner thigh.

I held my breath dreading her reaction, but it didn’t come; she just kept crying against my chest, apparently oblivious to everything but her suffering.

Time went on as I desperately tried relaxing, wishing my erection away, but it wouldn’t go. From what I could feel she must be wearing panties and a small sleeveless top and her bare skin was hot against mine. She had caught me on the point of an orgasm and to my shame my craving body was interpreting these new sensations in ways I rather didn’t want to dwell upon.

I don’t know how long we lay there, but eventually her crying slowed and finally stopped. I felt it then, when she realized I was naked. Her whole body tensed as she let out a small gasp against my chest.

I lay frozen for what seemed like an eternity, not daring to move, until her muscles finally relaxed. I had been afraid she would cry out, but she didn’t say anything, simply lay there without moving. We stayed in each other’s arms, our rhythmical breathing the only movement in the dark room, until I fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up bleary eyed, my head aching from last night’s alcohol abuse. And then it all came back to me, my sister sleeping in my bed, my erection pushing against her, when she noticed it…

I jerked to a sitting position looking around nervously. There were no traces of her, just my discarded clothing lying all over the floor around the bed. For a moment I almost convinced myself it had all been a beer induced dream, but it had felt too real to be so.

My mouth felt pasty; I really needed a glass of water. Ten o’clock already; I had overslept. I got out of bed with eyes half closed against the light and fumbled my jeans on. I made my way out in the hall and to the bathroom but found the door was closed. I tried the handle. Damn; locked.

I had just turned my back and was about to head down to the first floor bathroom when I heard the door unlock and open. I turned around and my breath caught; here was my sister wrapped in a small towel, looking better than she had in days.

I opened my mouth to speak but closed it nervously; I didn’t know what to say with last night still fresh on my mind.

She gave me a shy smile; her first in days. “Sorry,” she said as she grabbed a brush off the counter. “I was brushing my hair and I guess I forgot the time.”

Before I could say anything she brushed past me heading toward her room. I turned around to watch her go.

Emotions flooded in me; I was happy she had finally found some of her good mood back, but I was still uncomfortable about what had happened last night. Worse; her small towel barely came down to her thighs, exposing her smooth legs. I couldn’t help remembering how I had one draped over my naked body all night, remembering the soft feel of it.

I realized with shame I had an erection straining against my jeans. Despite myself I couldn’t stop staring at her pale legs as she walked back to her room, her bare shoulders, at how her lower ass cheeks would almost pop out as she walked.

She finally reached her room and closed the door behind her. Only then did I come back to my senses, disgusted at myself and my erection. This was my sister for God’s sake. What was wrong with me?

Quickly I entered the bathroom and shut the door behind me as I tried to leave my emotions behind. This hadn’t been a good move. Her smell still lingered in the air; flower scented oils and fresh soap.

I turned on the tap water and splashed cold water on my face. I gasped in shock but still couldn’t rid myself of the image of my sister burned into my mind. A shower; I needed a shower. Quickly I entered it and closed the glass door.

The walls were still covered with dripping droplets of water, bringing to my mind thoughts of her bare body as she showered herself, of the bar of soap roaming all over her like a lover’s hand.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, ashamed of myself.

I turned on the cold water. A spray hit me and I jumped up with a shriek. This is what I needed; I rested my hands against the wall for support and let the water flow over me until I was shaking and my teeth were clattering.

I shut off the water and quickly stepped out, relieved. I grabbed the towel on the hook and froze. It was dripping wet already; she must have used it.

Again I was assaulted with images of it being rubbed all over her naked body, on her privates. I was so horny and felt like I was trapped in a minefield, everything I touched reminding me of my sister. I needed to cum, but I couldn’t do it while being haunted by her.

I let the towel fall to the ground and struggled to slide my wet body into my jeans, then hurried in my room for refuge. I lay on my bed trying to compose myself and decided I wouldn’t come out until I was in control of my raging emotions.

I was forced into action an hour later thanks to my grumbling stomach. Resigning myself I put a t-shirt and socks on and went in search of food.

I found Cindy sitting in the living room wearing sandals, a pair of small shorts and a crop top, looking thoughtful. I felt myself drawn to her.

“What’s up sis?” I asked. “Heading to the beach?”

“No…” she responded, sounding confused “I just… I don’t know…”

“Come on,” I prompted. “Mom left us her car and I’m starving. Let’s go out for some hotdogs and then drive around; some fresh air will do you good.”

“I don’t know…” she began.

I wasn’t about to let her start getting depressed again. I quickly went up to her and grabbed her hand, half lifting-half helping her up. “You think too much! Come on it will be fun!”

Still holding her by the hand I went to the door. She wasn’t quite resisting, but not quite following either. I grabbed the key next to the door and lead her outside, stopping to bask in the sun.

“See?” I asked. “Don’t you think that’s great? Such a beautiful day.”

“I guess,” she admitted, some enthusiasm starting to warm her voice.

Still holding her hand I headed for the car parked in the driveway. This time she kept up with my pace, walking next to me. We came around the passenger side and only then did I let go. I unlocked and opened the door for her. She sat down with little thanks and quickly lowered her window.

I went around to the driver side and sat down. A wave of heat hit me and I quickly lowered my window too. It was hot enough we could probably cook something on the dashboard. I quickly started the car and began driving, hoping for some wind.

I drove around aimlessly for a while, just enjoying the refreshing wind coming in the window, until my stomach’s loud grumblings brought me back to reality.

I smiled at my sister. “Hey sis, hotdogs sounds good to you?”

She smiled back. “Okay. Your stomach’s so loud I bet even the next car can hear it. I don’t want you starving to death on me.”

I patted her thigh playfully and grinned. “Don’t worry; if it comes to that I’d probably get a nice little snack out of you. You’d let me eat you, right? You wouldn’t let your brother starve to death?”

She groaned. “Oh my God that’s so bad! Please tell me you’ve haven’t used that line on anyone before.”

I grinned. “Hey, you’d be surprised by my track record.”

I turned the car around and headed toward the beach where I knew there were plenty of hot dog stands along the wooden walkway hugging the beach proper.

It took us only a couple of minutes getting there. I parked us next to my favorite hot dogs stand; the one I’d been bringing my dates to. I wasn’t on a date, I didn’t even want to think about that, but this was a pretty nice place which would be good for her morale; here the walkway widened in a wooden platform, with flower pots and benches facing toward the ocean.

We paid for some hotdogs and sat down at one of the benches, making small talk as we ate. I didn’t want to mention school; that could remind her of what had happened while she was gone, and I didn’t want to talk about dates either. We talked about everything and nothing, sports, the weather, etc.

She took a bite off her hotdog, struggled with its content nearly spilling out and ended up with ketchup on her lower lip. I stared at it as she talked; feeling the urge to kiss her, lap it up with my tongue. I couldn’t hear a word she was saying.

Before I knew what I was doing my hand had reached out and came to rest on her cheek. She abruptly stopped talking, looking surprised. My thumb crept to her beautiful lips, found and wiped away the ketchup, but I lingered rubbing them. She blushed and let out a gasp. Realizing what I had done I pulled my hand away, shocked at myself.

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