Fiona Ch. 01

My stepsister, Fiona, and I had known each other for several years before my divorced mother and widowed father married. Our parents were good friends from the time of their previous marriages. Fiona and I had coincided in a couple of cruises that the two families went on together. Then came the trauma of the death of my stepsister’s mother and the shock of my parents’ separation.

Mom and her father knew each other very well and, I think, were already partly attracted to each other before all that traumatic time. So even though we weren’t technically a family, we did a lot of family-type things together, especially summer vacations at Fiona’s dad’s cabin on the lake.

Fiona is three years older than me. That, added to the fact that women tend to mature much earlier than us men, had a logical consequence. She was never very interested in hanging out with me during those pre-marriage outings. During puberty Fiona would have been said to have avoided me, to use a nice verb. But that girl, older than me, whose breasts grew before my eyes, provoked in the young man that I was an earthquake that convulsed my life. Because mom’s wedding with her father came.

Suddenly there was a beautiful female creature in my own home. I tried by all means to look older. But Fiona found that just funny. Things of a brat.

For me that marriage had been a real surprise, although for Fiona, according to what she herself confessed to me, it was something obvious. As I said the girls are more mature and three years older than me, the details of the romance between our parents had not escaped her.

After the wedding, my fascination with Fiona turned into something sick. Any boy or man who reads me can easily understand what it means for a 14-year-old boy to start sharing a house with a 17-year-old girl. Besides, my stepsister is not just another girl.

When in summer she was skimpily dressed around the house, in the dining room, in the TV room, crossing her legs or falling asleep in any position… God! For me it was both the most beautiful show in the world and unbearable torture. She, of course, avoided her little stepbrother, but she found the undeniable crush I was processing for her to be funny and amusing to some degree. I didn’t realize it then, but years later she has confessed to me that some of those sleeping beauty poses, in which I secretly enjoyed the delicious landscapes that inadvertently surfaced under her skirts, had been faked.

The bastard didn’t sleep! She pretended to be asleep, which is not the same. He did it with the double purpose of tormenting his little stepbrother’s asshole and, at the same time, to satisfy an intimate and secret morbidity

I was starting my baccalaureate when Fiona went to university. And the light that illuminated that house, suddenly disappeared. The transfer of the sculptural body of my stepsister through the halls, the bathroom or the kitchen, which flooded with joy and joy my pupils, ceased like the rain in a summer storm. Suddenly. It was no longer.

Our city is not university, so my stepsister had to move to a rental floor many kilometers away. I rarely came to visit, so we have not seen each other much in recent years. Specifically, his last absence has been the longest. He argued with my mother (I have not yet managed to find out about the reasons), and from the conflict with Mom, Fiona began to be reluctant to come home. Neither a visit, nor on the summer holidays last year, nor later. In short, more than two years ago that I did not see her, because the only time I could coincide with her, which was at Christmas two years ago, I caught my exchange trip with a family of Dublin, to practice language.

But Mom had not been willing to keep that kind of anger with her stepdaughter. So he had made the determination to go see her without prior notice to her student’s footprint. He had done it and, not only had they made peace, but according to my mother, it had been a kind of miracle, of catharsis in which the two had cried and laughed in the midst of hugs and apologies. Anyway, Fiona had received her in her heart again, as if she were her true mother. From that encounter, Mom had adopted her as a daughter. And both had become friends and confidants.

I missed that radical change in the relationship between my mother and my stepsister. But… who understands women?

Now it came for a long summer vacation. As I said, after two years without seeing it. She had just completed her third year at the University with 22 and I had just finished the baccalaureate and recently completed the 18.

Mom, dad and I were already in the summer cabin when we listen to Fiona to stop her car on the entrance path. The sound of the tires of an all -terrain is unmistakable by stepping on the pine needles that cover, until almost hiding, the road that leads from the regional road to the cabin.

We ran to greet her with dad in front of everyone. After all, it was his true daughter. Fiona hugged him with force hanging from his neck. “I’m glad to be at home,” he said. “I’ve thrown you much less. And… this… I apologize for all this time without coming. ”

“No seas tonta. Lo importante es que estás aquí de nuevo. Nosotros también nos alegramos de verte, cariño”, dijo mamá, en un claro gesto de dejar bien claro el armisticio firmado entre ambas mujeres. Así que Fiona cumplió a la perfección con su parte, se separó de su padre con una gran sonrisa que destilaba sinceridad y cariño y abrazó a mamá, que no pudo evitar la mirada vidriosa y un par de lágrimas de alegría. Lógico, después de aliviar la tensión que el enfado entre las dos mujeres había traído a la convivencia de la familia.

I backed away, waiting for greetings to our parents, waiting in a provoked and discreet background. In part because my past falls in love with Fiona, which I already believed, when he saw her again erupted as a volcano of Polynesia. Suddenly all those morbid times during the years we live under the same roof, all those involuntary and volunteer erections. All the relief that I looked for me alone in my bed or in the bathroom, having it as muse, as the only and true object of my desire, spilled on my soul as a cataract of difficult feelings to describe.

I was very good! Fuck with Fiona! Now it was much more woman, a thousand times. What do I say! A million times more attractive. What breasts! What a belt! My God, how ass! When mom finally released her, Fiona took a step towards me and suddenly stopped. I almost worked right there. I struggled to prevent the deep uneasiness from being noticed, the earthquake of feelings that my poor spirit suffered.

Fiona! The evil Fiona! The blessed Fiona! She knew very well what was happening inside me, her hard nipples knew, her ladina gaze, her crooked smile. He knew, surely, his stepbrother was a simple wink doll put there for his soleaz and recreation. I was not going to wait for the encounter in any detail. But he was impressed with my physical change in those two years of absence.

He walked with my eyes slowly, from my eyes and my hair to my feet. Without leaving anything without inspection, and when I say anything, it’s nothing. Because he did not hide or the least, the entertainment that their pupils had at the top of my pants.

“Wow brother…!” He exclaimed, “I’ve been about to tell you ‘little brother’, but you’re no longer a little brother.” He said looking at me in such a way that he managed to emerge certain reddish tones on my cheeks and cause my eyes to look at the floor, dead of shame.

The truth is that my sister was right. The last time we had seen ourselves 16 years old, my stature was somewhat lower than his, because I had not suffered what is usually called ‘the stretch’. I barely had muscles accompanying my bones, it was very, very skinny. Now, the man who was in front of Fiona was a man who exceeded his height quite a lot and had gained a lot of muscle. Above all I have won muscle mass since I was selected for the Institute’s basketball team and the coach set out ‘to put me back’ for the melee of that sport.

“You have really grown, little brother,” he said with the same tone with which he greets a cake tray, while looking at me with a suspiciously dyed smile of irony and mixed with hidden evil.

Dad was funny his child’s performance and broke up. Mom knew certain details, which I will tell about her stepdaughter later, thanks to the recent shared confidences between them and she judged that behavior of Fiona as something relatively dangerous for my sexual integrity. Extreme that, although I totally ignored, my instincts had been in charge of warning.

“You have also changed,” I still said with the blush painting my cheeks.

And what if I had changed. The Fiona that I remembered, although she was a precious teenager, was something careless about her presence. A little marimacho, bustling. But now all that seemed to have transminded. He wore a blouse without a support and I could see that her breasts were firm and hard, and her nipples marked enough to notice with impudence. Despite having made movements that could have balancing any other chest. Fiona’s tits, what tits, by God! They had barely moved. Of course I did not need any bra. Mother Nature was responsible for holding those two divine cusps. Their arms were thin although they were noticed by the toning of the gym, the shoulders deliciously rounded and their waist had the perfect shape of a sand watch. I wore shorts (pa fucked it right there, without taking them off) one of those who now use the girls to run and teach half of the ass below. He boasted a flat and tense abdomen and sculptural legs, such as formed by an artist, strong, very strong. My little sister to sport, that was clear. His hips were the perfect handle for a few trips to the beyond. And his butt, fuck! That was the best in the world. I thought. He was perfectly rounded in his convexities and attracted as a real magnet in sight in that area where the buttocks come together to disappear forming the magical triangle.