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I swear I’m innocent.
Ok, ok. Maybe ‘innocent’ isn’t exactly the right word to use here. But it wasn’t my fault, it was Caroline’s. Really.
All right, all right, I suppose it wasn’t entirely her fault either, because I had my hand in everything that happened, too. But isn’t that what sisters are supposed to do? Blame it all on each other? I guess it was kind of both of us pushing each other. But really, it was mostly Caroline. This is getting confusing. I guess I’d better start over.
A few days before Valentine’s Day, Dad and I went to the airport to pick up my sister Caroline. She was still in her first year at college and coming home for a quick visit. Dad had insisted that she attend an out-of-state school. Callie never told me exactly why, but she almost begged Dad to let her stay home and go to school, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He used that ‘it’ll be good for you’ voice that parents use when they’re telling you to do something that you don’t really want to do, and that was the end of that.
I missed her terribly. You know how it is. They say that you’re always closer to your siblings than anyone, because they’ve pretty much experienced the same life that you have. That was the way with me and Caroline, and while she was away I didn’t quite feel whole.
Oh, there were phone calls and emails and IMs, but they were all pretty generic – how her classes were going, what the food was like, how much homework she had. The stuff I really wanted to know she wouldn’t talk about, at least not through electronic communication. I really wanted to know was how far she had gone with her boyfriend. Dad had kept us practically under lock and key since we got to high school, and I was dying to find out if her new freedom away from home had led to some real-world experience.
She spotted us before we saw her. “Daddy! Katherine!!”
We looked over and saw her waving her hand over head to get our attention. Caroline’s a very pretty girl, and I felt a little rush of possessive affection for my big sister. More than a few guys turned their heads to look at her as she ran towards us. It always amazed me to see the reaction that she got from boys, who could always be counted on to forget themselves and drool in her presence. The thing is, anybody who saw us together knew immediately that we were sisters, we looked that much alike. But there was something about Callie that was hers alone – her innate ability to make even men who hadn’t met her want her. Caroline’s birthday was nine months to the day before mine, and it was a joke we kept to ourselves that Mom and Dad just couldn’t wait after she was born to start having sex again.
Callie was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt that I’d given her as a going away to college present. Her figure was lean enough to attest to the hours she spent on the tennis court, and curvy enough that there was no doubt she was all girl. Her long blond hair fanned out behind her as she ran our way. She squealed in delight as she ran into our open arms for a big group hug.
“I am so glad to see you guys!”
“Welcome home, honey,” Dad said.
“I’m glad you’re back!” I said. And I was, too. I felt all warm and cuddly when she held us, as if it was just our little nuclear family that mattered and nothing could ever come between us. Dad put his arm around both of us, hugging tightly. I inhaled the mixed scents of my family – Dad’s freshly pressed dress shirt and his musky cologne, Caroline’s fruity shampoo and the ineffable personal scent of big sister, which always made me feel safe and loved.
“I’ve got my two girls back together!” Dad said, rocking us all back and forth as he squeezed us. “Gosh, you look good!”
“Daddy!” Did she blush? “It’s not like I’ve been gone for years or anything.”
“Well, it was long enough that we missed you. Right, Katie?”
“Right,” I said.
With a smiling girl under each arm, Dad walked us towards the parking lot.
“So, how’s school?” he asked her.
“Fine. Art history is really interesting. We learned that there’s a Titian coming to the U.S. – he’s this really famous Italian Renaissance painter who lived in 1500’s. Some critics think that a lot of the paintings attributed to him weren’t really his, but I think there’s a similarity in his use of color and they’re wrong.”
Dad laughed. “Well, I guess my money hasn’t been wasted if you’re learning important stuff like that. And in your first year, too!”
Caroline stuck her tongue out at him. “I can’t help it if you don’t know any art history.”
“True, true. But I do know what’s important, and that’s that my girls are all home for Valentine’s Day.”
Caroline smiled a knowing smile at that. We never knew exactly why, but Valentine’s Day was a big deal with Dad, even before Mom had died. He always made sure that all of ‘his girls’ got presents and cards, candy and flowers and a big dinner at a fancy restaurant. He would hide Valentines in our backpacks before we went to school, and there would always be bahis firmaları a little gift left on our pillow when we woke up. It was our little family tradition to go overboard every February 14th. Caroline and I both knew that it was more celebrating than most people did, but we weren’t stupid enough to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, it was fun.
We all walked to the car arm in arm. “I wouldn’t miss Valentine’s Day at home for anything,” Caroline said.
We stopped for dinner at the Olive Garden before we went home. Dad had rented March of the Penguins and we ate popcorn while we watched, sitting in a cozy group on the huge leather sofa. When the baby penguin died I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes and I looked over at Caroline to see if she felt the same way. She had a look on her face that was part sorrow and part rueful smile that she would cry at something silly like that. I knew exactly how she felt. She looked at Dad and to my surprise slapped him on the arm.
“You big ol’ softie! You’re crying!”
“Am not,” he said, trying not to smile and failing miserably. Dad likes to think he’s all macho and above crying over TV penguins.
“It’s OK Dad, right Katie-pie? We love you even if you are a big ol’ closet penguin softie.” We giggled and I watched her put her head on his shoulder.
I loved having Caroline home again, even if it was only until Valentine’s Day. I was glad Dad had insisted she take a few days off from school, pleading that it just wouldn’t be right if she wasn’t here. I had to agree. Having her home to joke with me and Dad made the world whole.
It was late when we finished watching the movie, and Caroline said that she was tired and going up to bed. I was kind of disappointed because I had wanted to talk to her alone and ask her about her boyfriend, but it didn’t look like I was going to get a chance. I figured that I’d just have to wait until the next day.
I took a quick shower, pulled on my pajamas and a pair of warm socks and went to bed. First I had to push Mr. Paddington over to his side of the bed. He’s my giant stuffed bear who’s been my best friend since I was like, four. He was bigger than me until I was about six. He’s golden brown and wears a silly yellow rain hat and a blue rain coat. He lives on my bed, keeps me company and listens to all my secrets, and woe be unto you if you dare make fun of him.
He even stayed with me after I became old enough to start lusting after boys. Once I was feeling particularly dangerous I had used Mr. Paddington as a tactile aid, pretending that I had a real lover. Of course he wasn’t big enough to play a real man convincingly, but he was close enough for pretend. I spread my legs and nestled him between them so that I could lock my feet around his back, just like I would do to a real boy. I loved the warm fuzzy weight of him resting on my chest, and even more I loved the naughty feeling of pretending that a boy was fucking me hard. I held him tightly and rubbed my dripping pussy against him. Mr. Paddington may be my very best friend but unfortunately he wasn’t much of a lover, and I had to reach between him and me so that I could finish myself with my fingers. I came so hard I couldn’t believe it, and from then on Mr. Paddington was as much a part of my self-loving as my own fingers. Him on top. Me straddling him as he rested on his back. My hand buried in the fur on his head and his face clutched between my legs while I pretended he was licking me until I came. A few times I’d even propped him up with pillows so that I could get on all fours and back my ass against his furry tummy, rubbing my clit and pretending I was getting fucked doggie style. I simply loved Mr. Paddington, and I never failed to cum extra hard when he was helping me with my fantasies. But tonight I wasn’t in the mood for fucking with Mr. Paddington. I tried to pretend otherwise, but my thoughts were centered on the real experiences that Caroline might have had.
I got out my copy of At First Sight by Nicholas Sparks and read for a while, but I couldn’t concentrate. When Caroline had last visited at Christmas, she’d let slip that she was getting close to some guy named Harrison, and had even necked with him. I wanted to know more. All during high school Dad kept a short leash on us – making sure he knew who we were with, phoning us to ‘check in,’ insisting that we were always home early. He had intimidated any boys who dared to show an interest in us, and I was dying to know if Caroline had used her distance from Dad to learn more about horny young men so she could pass her experience on to her little sister.
So many thoughts were floating through my head that I couldn’t pay any attention to my book. When I realized I’d read the same paragraph three times I gave up and tried to go to sleep, but that wasn’t much better. I kept imagining Caroline in her dorm room, laying on her bed with her legs spread wide so that some good-looking college boy could fuck her. Had my big sister actually done kaçak iddaa it? What did it feel like to actually get fucked? Did she like it? I was getting a little mushy between the legs just thinking about it, and I clenched my crotch as if that could stop the feelings. I didn’t want to masturbate because I knew that while it might satisfy my drippy pussy, it wouldn’t satisfy my curiosity. And afterwards I’d be stuck right where I was – wondering if Callie had done it and what it had been like. Besides, wouldn’t it be better to learn what had happened so that I could have some new self-fondling fuel? It was a weak excuse and I knew it. But it was enough to get me out of bed to pad down the hall to Caroline’s room.
There was just enough light coming out from under the door to encourage me to think that she might still be up, maybe reading. I knocked softly so that I wouldn’t wake her if she was already asleep and dreaming of having sex with the mysterious Harrison.
Her voice was drowsy and indistinct and I couldn’t make out what she said through the door, but I definitely heard her say something. Now I regretted coming and probably waking her up, but it was already done. I opened the door and peeked in.
Caroline had a couple of candles burning on her nightstand, which explained the diffused light I’d seen under the door, and her room smelled like warm summer peaches. She was laying under the blankets in her bed, and as soon as I opened the door she sat up with a start, her blond locks tousled and her blanket falling to her waist. Callie was wearing an old shirt of Dad’s, which was her usual bedtime wear.
“Sorry, Callie. I thought you were still awake.”
She brushed her hair out of her eyes and looked at me. “No, it’s all right. What do you want?” Now I felt all stupid coming to see her when it could have waited.
“Girl talk?” I asked hopefully.
To my gratitude she didn’t look too exasperated. She paused for a second and I thought I caught a flash of disappointment in her eye. Then she patted the bed and said, “Sure, Katie-pie. C’mon. Sit.”
I padded over to her bed and sat down. That’s when I noticed the musky scent under the peach candles. It was the unmistakable aroma all girls of a certain age know – the smell of an excited girl. At first I thought I was just smelling myself, but I realized it couldn’t be me – I just wasn’t that wet. The knowledge came at me in a rush. Caroline was under the covers in a warm room, with romantic candles burning by her bed, smelling of fondled girl and emitting small moans that could have been taken for permission to enter by her little sister at the door. Callie had been masturbating. That was the look of disappointment that I’d seen – what girl would want to talk to her little sister instead of playing with herself? I glanced at her fingertips and they looked wet.
I was embarrassed beyond belief, but I didn’t know what to do about it now. I tried hide the knowledge I was sure was written on my face.
“We couldn’t talk while Dad was around, and I wanted to know about Harrison. You promised me at Christmas that you’d give me all the details. Are you still seeing him?”
Caroline gave me a sad smile as she leaned back in her bed, resting on the big pile of pillows. “Naw, he and I split up a while back.”
“Oh. That’s too bad.” I tried to sound truly sad for her, but I know she discerned the real reason for my disappointment – no Harrison equaled no sex, and I wasn’t going to get to hear any juicy details.
A gentle smile on her face made me think that she had more to tell, but she let me dangle in the wind like forever, until I couldn’t stand it.
“What?” I said.
Her smile grew wider and she finally giggled at me. Then she batted her eyes innocently and said, “I suppose I could tell you about the handjob I gave him.”
I squealed and slapped her on the arm while she laughed. This was more like it. But at the same time I couldn’t believe that she had done such a thing.
“You did not!”
“Well, if you don’t want to hear about it…” she said, pretending too hard not to care by staring off into space and twining her hair around her finger.
That changed my tune in a hurry. I wasn’t about to tease her into not sharing with me. “Of course I want to hear! Every kiss, every detail! Don’t leave anything out.”
“Ok, ok. Just let me get comfortable.” Caroline made a big show of slowly fluffing her pillows, stalling just to see if she could get a rise out of me. But I didn’t take the bait. I just took my time getting comfortable, too. Finally we were settled on the bed facing each other, sitting Indian style but with Callie leaning back on her pillows, looking very romantic in the light of the flickering candles. She smiled and pushed her hair back behind her ears, proud of herself and feeling all superior because she had such a salacious experience to share with me.
“We decided to go to kaçak bahis see King Kong.”
“Wait a minute! I’ve never even seen him. What’s he look like?”
“King Kong? He’s kinda cute, big…”
“You know what I meant! Harrison!”
“Well, he’s kinda cute, big.” Callie giggled. “Longish wavy hair, tall, and with a killer smile. He’s going for a degree in psychology. He had dark eyes that you could just fall in love with. And he dressed a little older than the other boys, kinda yuppie, you know? Slacks and button down shirts. I think that’s why I liked him at first. Okay?”
I nodded, holding the picture in my mind.
“Harrison was sort of arrogant, like I was just another girl and he thought he was going to get lucky that night.”
“And he was right!” I said, proving I was paying attention.
Callie laughed. “I let the movie get going a little bit and then I laid my head on his shoulder. We kissed a little during the boring parts, but mostly just watched the movie.”
“I don’t know what made me do it,” she said. “Like I told you at Christmas, we’d done some necking before…”
“Tongues?” I said hopefully.
“Hush. Do you want to hear this or what?” She knew full well I’d die if she stopped, but she wanted to tell me the story as badly as I wanted to hear it.
“Where was I?” she said. “Oh, yeah, we’d done some kissing, but not anything more serious. Maybe it was because it was dark and romantic, maybe it was because I knew he wouldn’t try to go farther in the theatre – it was like, a safe place to try it out, you know? I just kinda decided to go for it.”
Go for it. The words had a magic feel, because they are surely the words every girl says to herself before she gives up her cherry. Or in this case, gives a handjob. I clenched my pussy, savoring the sensation of rising need and promising to get to it as soon as Caroline was done.
“I waited until the movie was at least partly done.” Callie’s eyes were bright, and she could barely contain the smile that her memory caused. “I think I was just working up my nerve, but I told myself I didn’t want to seem like a slut and just grab him when we sat down. So I waited, just giving him kisses to remind him that I was there. I waited until the part where Kong was fighting dinosaurs and it was all loud and everybody was watching the screen. Real slow and casual like, I reached over and unbuckled his belt.”
Callie giggled. “He just froze, like he was afraid I’d stop if he moved. I kissed his neck and slowly unzipped his jeans, which was really hard. I mean, you don’t know how hard it is to unzip a guy’s pants when he’s sitting down. But he was a real gentleman – he held the popcorn box up so that I had room to work, but people couldn’t see what was going on in his lap, you know? Finally I got his pants open.”
“And I reached in his pants, squirmed my hand under his shorts, and touched my first cock, of course.” Her eyes laughed.
“Oh, God,” I said. “What was it like?”
“Well, I couldn’t see it. We were in the movie theatre, remember?” She laughed again; a musical sound that I knew boys had found enchanting ever since junior high. “But I could sure feel it. It was longer than my hand, and sort of soft and hard at the same time. There was, like, more skin around the middle, but up at the end it was all really smooth and taut, like the skin on a plum. And it was kind of pulsing, like I could feel his heartbeat running through it. And hot! It was really hot, like it was the only part of his body that had a fever.”
I swallowed hard and took a deep breath, my wide eyes focused on Callie. She was so pretty, her tousled blond hair, her nipples poking into the fabric of Dad’s old shirt, her sleep-puffy lips calling for kisses. She was so sexy and hot in that moment that it suddenly became clear to me why boys were attracted to her like bees to honey. Just being in the same room with her was making me long for a warm cuddle and a pair of soft lips to kiss. I remember thinking it was pretty amazing how warm a few peach-scented votives could make a room.
“It was all up against his belly, here, and about this long.” Callie kicked the covers away from herself, so that she could show me on her body. She drew a line on herself with her finger, running slowly from the tails of the white shirt gathered in her crotch up to her belly button.
“Oh, god,” I said. “That big?”
“Yep. In fact it was so big I couldn’t get it all the way out of his pants. I remember wondering just how it was supposed to fit inside me, but right then I was so horny I felt like I could take a baseball bat.” This made us both giggle. “Anyway, I couldn’t get my hand all the way down in his pants, so I just kind of rubbed up and down the part I could reach with my fingers and palm.” Caroline demonstrated her Harrison handjob technique on herself, moving her palm up and down an imaginary dick between her pussy and belly button, her slim fingers pointed towards her pussy. She lost herself in the memory and closed her eyes. It was obvious that she’d forgotten I was watching. My eyes widened when her fingertip slowly reached down and began rubbing her clit in quick little circles through her satin panties.
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