I stepped into the hallway as quietly as I could. I intended to head into the kitchen to get some water but I stopped outside Jess’s door. From inside I heard her groaning. Thinking she was having a nightmare and was about to burst into my room, I went to her door. It wasn’t closed all the way but instead was just mostly closed. Slowly, I pushed the door open and peeked inside. I’m glad Dad kept the house well maintained because the door opened a few inches without a sound.
Her room was similar in size to mine but very differently decorated. On her nightstand was a large round clock, with the outer face ring constantly changing colors. As the kaleidoscope of colors shifted every couple of seconds, I could see Jess in her bed but she wasn’t sleeping.
I watched, transfixed, as she used a plain, bullet style vibrator to pleasure herself. From my vantage point I couldn’t see everything, but I could see enough. For a while she kept it raised, resting against her clit. She rolled her hips against it then raised up enough to help her ease it inside her. I couldn’t see it slide into her but her moans were unmistakable.
Jess alternated between sliding it in and out of her and rubbing her clit with it. When she pulled it up I could see it glistening in the shifting colors. I knew I was pushing my luck but I couldn’t look away. My patience was rewarded a minute later. She tensed up, arching her back, gasping as her orgasm overtook her. Her whole body shuddered and a soft moan escaped her lips as she came down.
I softly backed away and made my way back to my room. My thirst for water had been replaced with a burning need to take care of myself.
****
With the exception of my fantasies, the next few weeks passed in relative normalcy. I was a virile male and I could get a pretty good erection from looking at a Sears catalog, but few things seemed to get me as hard as fast as picturing Jess.
On those nights when she slept beside me I would look to see if she was wearing something that would permit another exposure. Much to my confused dismay she usually wore a t-shirt and flannel shorts. What she lacked in exposure she made up for in contact. Many mornings I would wake up feeling her curled up against me. Through the thin fabric of her shirt I could feel her breasts pressing against my side or back. I tried to sleep in when I could on those mornings.
One morning, as we lay there trying to fight oncoming day, Jess was curled against me. One arm was draped across my chest, the other was tucked under her pillow. Her slow, rhythmic breathing was warm against my neck, where she had nestled her head near my shoulder. I lay there, eyes closed, absentmindedly stroking her arm. Slowly, I realized that I really enjoyed how this felt. Not just the closeness of a pretty girl but the closeness of my sister. I sighed contentedly, causing her to stir.
I glanced over, and Jess’ eyes opened and looked into mine.
“‘Morning,” I whispered.
“Hey,” she said softly. “Do we have to get up?”
“Comfortable?” I asked.
“With you? Always.”
“I feel the same,” I said then regretfully added, “But we need to get moving.”
“Nooooo,” she protested, burying her face in my neck.
“Come on,” I said, playing her game and pulling at her arm.
Jess responded by clutching me tighter, keeping me from sitting up. Without the leverage to sit up, I instead rolled to my side. My right arm, pinned between us, slipped under her and pulled her up and over onto me. When I rolled back she stayed atop me, her body draping mine. Her warmth and weight pressed against me and it was the most comfortable I’d felt in a long time.
Jess looked almost as surprised at her position as I was, then gave me a grin as she grabbed my wrists and pinned them beside my head.
“Gotcha right where I want ya,” she leaned back, straddling my midsection and pushing most of her weight into her arms.
“Comfortable now?” I asked, grinning up at her.
“Even more so,” she grinned back at me, wriggling her hips a little as she settled in.
The movement drew my attention down. Last night had been a little warm so she only wore a t-shirt and panties to bed. Our wrestling had caused her t-shirt to slide up, exposing the delicate cotton fabric. I suddenly was keenly aware of the warmth radiating from her center against my stomach, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
After a few seconds, I looked back up at Jess who was looking at me intently. She was breathing heavier than normal and biting her lower lip slightly. Holding my gaze she slowly rocked her hips, grinding herself against me. The heat against me grew as she rocked against me. My erection grew, and her ass brushed the tip a couple of times as her rocking continued.
“Jess-” I started, but she quickly put her hand over my mouth. My arm now freed I reached up and cupped her face in my hand. A part of me told me to stop her, that she was going too far, but I couldn’t. I felt her desire almost as keenly as I felt my own. She closed her eyes and leaned into my hand. A moment later, she leaned forward and touched her forehead to mine.
Without a word, she kissed me. It wasn’t long kiss and our tongues never touched, but there was no mistaking this for a simple brother/sister kiss. She cupped my head in her hands and relaxed her body against mine for a moment. Then, just as quickly as she had started, Jess leapt up and hurried out the room.
I was left feeling very much like a cartoon character. My hand was still in the air cupping the empty space where her head had been. My lips were still pursed, kissing where lips had met mine. My erection had tented the sheets and my stomach still burned from the heat her body had put off.
Minutes later, after I had taken care of my problem I stepped into the hallway. Jess was leaving her room at the same time and we stopped short, looking at each other. Her face was flushed and I was suddenly aware that I probably looked very much the same after my own release.
“Jess-” I began but was stopped by her shaking her head. I wondered if I was ever going to get to finish a sentence again.
“No,” she said softly. “Not right now. I need to figure this out.”
SHE needed to figure this out?
Before I could say anything she hurried down the stairs, leaving me to wonder what in the hell happened and, more importantly, when would it happen again? Would things escalate or would we forget the whole thing? At some point there would be a turning point that would change everything. I barely had time to think about it as we had classes to get to, and we hadn’t even had breakfast yet!
The turning point happened that same evening while I was showering. Given the events of that morning we had to rush to get to class so my normal morning shower wasn’t possible. Mom and Dad had left that afternoon to Wall Street for a conference for the rest of the week. I figured that I was safe to take a nice, long, relaxing shower before bed.
I was wrong.
Half-way through I heard an urgent banging on the door. I barely had time to lift my head from the water stream when the door flew open and slammed against the back wall. Jessica ran in, her eyes wild and frantic. She looked around as if she wasn’t sure where she was or where I was, then finally found me. She didn’t seem to notice I was naked and still in the shower. Without any regard for the water, she threw herself into the shower and wrapped her arms around me.
I was grateful that the shower was an open concept design with no doors or curtains. She would’ve barreled through without any regard, possibly shattering the glass had there been any. Still, the floor wasn’t designed for this kind of traction. My leg never did return to 100%, so I was already at a disadvantage for supporting her. With her momentum I was pushed against the wall, my feet slipped, and my bad leg crumpled underneath me. We fell to the floor with a wet THUD.
Jessica was back in her t-shirt and panties and was now getting thoroughly soaked. The water was hot, steaming up the mirror and window but Jessica was shivering against me.
“Jess? Jess?! What’s wrong? What happened?”
“The mail…” she managed to get out.
“What? What came in the mail?” I wasn’t able to get a response from her. She just lay against me, holding on to my arm. I knew I wasn’t going to get any answers until she had calmed down. I also knew I was trapped where I was; I couldn’t get up from this position without forcing her away and that wasn’t something I was ready to do yet.
I held her close, telling her it was okay and that I was there and that she was safe. Once the initial shock wore off I was able to take stock of my situation. She was holding onto my arm, clutching it between her breasts. I couldn’t help but notice them; the wet fabric of her shirt pulled tight across them. Her rapid, shallow breathing kept rubbing them against my wrist. My gaze traveled across her body and I couldn’t help but look at her thighs. Her panties were nearly see-through at this point but she was curled up and her most private area was hidden from view. Still, my imagination was running wild. This, of course, caused a slight reaction from me.
If she noticed my erection growing against her she gave no indication. It took a few minutes until she had regained her senses. She sat up slowly, dragging my nearly asleep arm across one of her breasts in the process. Her nipple traced a line across my palm, and it felt like a live wire against my skin. I was glad I had limited motor control as I was sorely tempted to squeeze.
“Sorry,” She said weekly. “It came in the mail.”
“What did?”
“I.. I..” she stammered.
“Shhhh. It’s okay,” I reassured her. “Go get dried off. I’ll check it out.”
I helped her stand, grateful that we had enough hot water still. She lifted her head and I think that was the first time she noticed I was naked. I wasn’t sure but I thought she lingered a little on my erection. She turned red, mumbled something that sounded like “sorry”, and hurried out of the bathroom.
I dried off quickly then wrapped the towel around my waist and headed into the kitchen. Most of the mail usually wound up on the kitchen island, so it was a safe bet that’s where I’d find whatever set her off. It wasn’t hard to find. There were papers scattered all across the counter and floor. I reached down and scooped them up, flipping through them as I did.
Newspaper clippings. Notes. Manuscript pages. Photos of us throughout the years. And one letter from an author. Jesus. This idiot was trying to impress us with samples of his research, hoping this would convince us to work with him. Instead, it felt more like a stalker’s practice run. All this did was bring back the memories we’d much rather forget. In Jessica’s case, this wasn’t just a memory; this was reliving it.
I gathered up all the papers and stuffed them back into the manila folder they came in. This could wait until the morning; Jessica couldn’t.