It Just Sorta Happened

All characters are 18yo and up.

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Marissa had moved back home for the summer.

Big whoop. It’s not like it hadn’t happened before.

She’s my big sister, you see. She just wrapped up her last year of college; got a liberal arts degree from the state university I’d be attending next fall– we’d all gone to her graduation a month ago. Apparently when Uncle Frank asked her at dinner that evening whether she would pursue a graduate degree in her field (Anthropology), that was the first she’d seriously considered the prospect.

She’s not an airhead or anything, though her blond locks and meticulously well-kept wardrobe might lend you to believe otherwise… In fact, my mom, my dad, and I all gave her major kudos when she had decided to leave her sorority one semester into her sophomore year. She’d explained at the time that it was a matter both of disgusting internal politics as well as interference with her studies.

From the brief visits we had with her the last couple years, she enjoyed a far more comfortable lifestyle with the friends she split a house with her last two years off campus.

But now she’d moved back home.

Honestly I had missed her!… But it really hadn’t been that bad being the only kid under the roof. Mom and dad both started catching a bit of premature empty nest syndrome after their prized oldest daughter had moved out, so they both started doting on me a bit more, and giving me Way more leeway to enjoy my high school career than they had given her.

And since they both worked hard on their careers, I wound up with a pretty comfortable reign over the house most of the time. Seeing as how Marissa hadn’t been home for the last two summers, I kind of expected to have an unchallenged rule over the family manor the summer after my high school graduation… But not so.

Because Marissa had moved back home after all.

Her housemates all went their separate ways, and Marissa, my prissy, apple-of-our-parents’-eyes sister, hadn’t made any plans after graduating with a degree. So she moved back into her old room, despite the fact that Mom had turned it into her office.

Since my dad was out of town on a retreat, and mom was busy working on a case 12 hours a day, guess who got to move mom’s office sofa out, and Marissa’s day-bed in. That’s right– yours truly. I practically broke a toe trying to handle the furniture on my own, but there you go.

I shouldn’t have been so fed up with the situation, but my first (and so far only) girlfriend broke up with me back over spring break, and I’d wound up quite stag for the rest of the school year, including Prom. Not to my benefit, either… Apparently my ex spread some sort of rumour about me having a small cock. I don’t know, I break 7 inches, but I didn’t really care about that part of it… I just thought we had something more than that sort of interest in each other. I know it sounds sappy, but she’d been really special to me, and for her to turn that leaf… it just opens your eyes to what people can be like is all, I guess. Especially when it came out after graduation that she’d been seeing someone behind my back the last couple months we were together.

So from making out with my first gf, copping feels, the occasional handy, to a bitter break-up, I’d been pretty sexually repressed the last few months.

The winds of change had begun to blow, though: I graduated with top marks and a letter of acceptance to the state university; no need to get a summer job, thanks to the scholarship coming my way; and mom & dad were going to leave me with free run over the house all summer! I was finally starting to get hard thinking about other chicks again, scrolling my various feeds, thinking about who I might be able to hook up with this summer.

Except for one problem: Marissa.

I couldn’t invite any of my buddies over, because of how All of them swooned around her.

And I couldn’t bring any of my female friends or romantic prospects over because of a… finer problem.

Marissa had taken to lounging dead center in our family room for most of the day, most every day for the last week and a half. Wearing a series of various silk nighties. And Only that nighty. Nighties that seemed practically like lingerie, except for the fact that none of them consistently shielded her lower bits from view. The only times she maintained a sense of modesty, in fact, were when mom or dad were home… which again, were infrequent.

Damn was the whole situation pissing me off!

Nearly two weeks into summer, and I’d been trapped in my room for WAY too many hours out of any given day! Sure, I’d been able to get out a couple times and bike out to the beach or my buddy’s pool, but I’m sure you can imagine how embarrassing (not to mention inconvenient) it is to have to bike around town as a fresh graduate.

I couldn’t bring myself to have my buddies over to leer at my sister, and the lack of an income or car made macking on the ladies a lot more difficult than expected.

That left sequestering myself in my room, or hanging around the house with Marissa, which I was finally pent up enough to start broaching again, sisterly-modesty-be-damned.

We hadn’t said too much to each other since she moved back in to find her bedroom prepared for her: the typical “I’m glad to see you again bro/sis!” expected when one comes back home; asking about each other’s plans for the summer, just to discover neither had any; and the regular “good morning bro/sis” as we ran into each other whenever either of us made it down to the kitchen for brunch.

Half of why I didn’t pursue too much conversation with her since summer’d begun was my being prickly about losing control over my summer castle. The other half was her lady bits.

I don’t know what I was expecting back on the 2nd day of summer as I was sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through my insta feed, munching my way through another spoonful of fruity pebbles, but my sister’s red and blue silk nighty caught my eyes as she glided in. We traded our ‘good mornings’, and my eyes practically bulged from my head when I noticed her reach up to the high shelf for a cereal bowl– her round, firm butt cheeks were on full display. I didn’t even bother putting my bowl in the sink before rushing back upstairs to my bedroom. My dick was suddenly raging, but there was NO way I was about to jerk my first load in months to my Own Sister. Vomit! Right…?

Several more similar instances occurred in the following days, from mid-morning to the early afternoon. My eyes and my teenage imagination couldn’t seem to escape my big sister’s body parts: her ivory, round ass cheeks, with that little trio of freckles on the lower cusp of her left cheek; her supple, round tits that always seemed on the verge of slipping around the silk hem of her next nighty; her forbidden little pussy lips that I was Sure would be there waiting for me if I were ever to let my gaze venture in that direction…

But, No! My pride, my intellect, my conscience wouldn’t let my imagination run with whatever images they came across. It was a vicious internal battle raging in my head that first week and a half. It was even starting to get difficult to tell whether they were real memories of big sister’s lady bits, or just my taboo wonderings and imaginings.

Day eleven of summer, the resistance front collapsed.

I got up first, mid-morning, and made a bowl of cereal. I was sitting on the living room carpet, wearing nothing but the athletic shorts I’d slept in, propped up against the couch, so that I could place the bowl on the coffee table whenever I used the remote to skip past the intros of the series I was going to binge.

I noticed Marissa breeze down the stairs out of the corner of my eye. Apparently she liked my choice of breakfast, because she plopped into the couch behind me with a bowl of her own.

“Morning, bro,” as she began into her bowl.

I turned my head to say, “Morning, Mariss–!!”

That last came out as an explosion of milk and cereal into my windpipe and out my mouth & nose.

Because Marissa’s puffy, vaginal lips were a foot and a half from my face, and those sisterly vaginal lips were (thanks to the way her legs were half cross-legged) gaping slightly open, a slight moisture glistening on the edges. It was almost like my sister’s flushed vagina was staring right at me– her younger brother! WTH!?

Marissa nearly spilled her own bowl of cereal jerking back from my milk-coughing reaction.

“Oh my god, Jake! What happened, are you okay?!” she half-yelled, half-laughed, putting her bowl on the coffee table and patting my back.

“Ergghuh!” I coughed, finally clearing my throat, turning back to face the tv. “I’m fine, I’m fine, sis, sorry, thanks.”

“Are you sure?” she pressed, sitting back into the couch.

“Yeah, no I just accidentally saw your, uhmm…” I started blushing, clamming up.

“Oh geez, that’s right. Sorry bro, I hope it doesn’t bother you– it’s just something me and my roommates have gotten used to the last couple years,” Marissa laughed off, lightly.

“You guys just all hung around the house naked?”

“Not naked, bro. Well except for Meghan, sometimes, or Denise here & there. Just, ya know, comfortable.” She was smiling– I could hear it in her tone, even though I was resolutely keeping my eyes on the tv in front of us. “It’s healthy to be comfortable in your own skin, and especially healthy to be comfortable in your own home. Lowers stress levels over time, promotes longer life-spans and fewer wrinkles, you know,” she said, as though she were giving a textbook lesson.

“Uh huh,” I replied, trying my best to figure out what the most appropriate way to respond to seeing my big sister’s pussy lips, and her casual acceptance of the same.

Did she really think this would be okay with me? I’m her brother! She’s my SISTER! GROSS! Right??… Except my dick is definitely sporting a raging hard-on right now…! WTH– this was So Fucked Up!

And then my shoulder devil whispered into my ear.