I looked over at the woman who’d wrecked me, my own sister. She was stretching languid on the bed like a cat after a bowl of milk.
“I came a little,” she told me, “Don’t worry, you’ll get way better. This is important stuff. You’re getting older, meeting real women, you need to know how to get them off. I’m just happy I can be here to teach you.”
“Thanks Darcy,” I said. I was doing that a lot. Thanking my sister for something I wasn’t sure I wanted her to give me in the first place.
“That’s what big sisters are for,” Darcy said. She rubbed my head and went to take a shower. I tried to follow her, but my sister made it clear that this would be a solo exercise.
“Mom and Dad are both home,” she said, “I don’t want to take any more risks than we already have. You’ll go after me.”
When Darcy was done, she pushed me back into the bathroom. I didn’t usually shower more than twice a week at most, but my sister insisted that I needed to clean off. While I soaped myself, I smelled my fingers again. My sister’s scent became more pleasant, more exciting, with every sniff.
*
After the shower, I got dressed and went downstairs. My mother was in the kitchen, cleaning up after breakfast. My father had run out to get supplies. They were going to spend the whole Saturday gardening in the front yard.
“We’ll plant flowers, put in some stakes for the tomatoes, trim back the bushes,” my mom said, “You sure you don’t want to join us?”
I told her no, then heated up a pop tart in the toaster. By the time it was done, Darcy came down. She was wearing a baby blue tank top and a pair of black yoga pants. Her hair was up in the usual ponytail. She looked like a woman going to work out or laze around the house. She looked amazing.
“E and I are going to hang out all day,” Darcy told my mother, “Get some good sibling bonding time in.”
My mother tried to explain that we could have good sibling bonding time by helping out around the house, but Darcy wasn’t hearing it. Eventually, she drowned Mom out with the sound of the blender as she made herself a smoothie.
“We’re going to a movie,” Darcy said, more of a command than a suggestion.
My older sister led me out to her car. Even though Darcy was working a high-powered finance job, she still had college graduate money and her car was proof of that. It was a cherry red VW Jetta, one of the boxy ones, with at least 15 years and over six figures of experience on it. For a woman Darcy’s age, the car was relatively clean, which meant that it was pretty damn dirty in the aggregate.
The movie theater was over by the mall, but Darcy drove us downtown instead. I had my license, but the Jetta was a stick and I’d only learned on my Dad’s automatic. Not that I thought my sister was going to let me drive her car, even if I could. Remember, she didn’t even trust me to jack my own dick.
“We need to stop for something before we can see the movie,” my sister explained.
We parked in front of the local barber shop. Darcy fed the meter and took me inside. There was already a line of at least ten dudes. My sister was the only woman in the place. We found two open chairs and waited. I found a Maxim magazine and learned all about how Jessica Alba likes to please her man.
Finally, one of the barbers called out that it was my turn. He was an older gentleman, wearing a plain white dress shirt with his name stitched into the breast, and black slacks. He smelled heavily of pomade.
“Just a trim,” I said, asking for my usual
“Shave it all down,” Darcy corrected me. The barber looked at both of us, like trying to decide who truly had the authority here. I don’t need to tell you who won.
I watched in the mirror in horror as the barber slaughtered my curls. I never liked my hair, it was way too unruly. But it had become a part of my identity over the years and seeing it clipped away was like watching a piece of my personality getting shorn off.
By the time the barber was done, my hair was cropped close on the sides. He’d let it stay a little thicker at the top, but my curls were gone. I looked in the mirror and, dammit, Darcy was right.
“Looking good,” Darcy said. She slapped my ass when I stepped out of the barber’s chair. “Now we can head out for our day.”
*
Darcy drove us down the highway to the multiplex over by the mall.
“So, what are we going to see?” I asked as we accelarated. Darcy gave me a confused look in return, like I’d asked her something ridiculous.
We parked by the theater and walked up to the window. Darcy picked a movie that was starting in five minutes, some dumb action thing I doubted she could have much interest in. She bought us a bucket of popcorn, slathered it in fake butter at the self-serve, grabbed a handful of napkins, and led me into the theater. The previews were starting.
It was a Saturday at 10am and this movie had not done well. The auditorium was only ten rows, stacked stadium style, and almost completely empty. An older couple was parked up in the second row on the far side, but that was it. Darcy walked up the steps and sat down in the back row on the far side. She patted the seat next to her with a grin.
We watched the previews in silence. The theater went dark as the proper picture started. Darcy’s hand landed right in my crotch.
I looked up at her in surprise. My sister unbuckled my belt, unzipped my jeans, and pulled out my dick, right there in the theater.
“Darcy!” I almost shouted it and I got a proper shushing from the older couple up front..
Darcy’s hand was slippery from the popcorn ‘butter’ and she began stroking my cock. I was already half hard and she got me the rest of the way there. Then she stopped.
My older sister nodded expectantly at me, using her head to point my eyes over to her seat. Darcy had her legs spread as wide as they could go. She gave me a suggestive smile.