I guess who you really ought know more about is my sister, Katie. I've always felt bad for her because even though she looks so good, she attended an all girl's school and never had a boyfriend. Katie and I are only a little past nine months apart. Nine months and 14 days. Our parents had gotten frisky on their anniversary a couple weeks after I was born, I guess. I had always thought that wasn't fair to me as a baby, but my upbringing was more than I could ask for, and is a good example in my own mind as to how a child should be raised. Katie, though not even a year younger, has some severe disadvantages over me. Firstly, she isn't built very... Heftily. She's been small her whole life, in most places. She only reached 5'3, but that was when she was 15, and she's done growing now. She has a great metabolism, or so I assume, since she's eaten plenty but always maintained a desirable shape. Those are the only two categories she's lacking in though, for certain. I really have no idea her bra size, since it's none of my business, but they're wonderfully large by comparison to the bustiest girls at my school.
Katie and I have always been as close as brother and sister can be. We have never had big problems with each other. No big fights, no difference in many preferences. We enjoy the same kind of music, which is really nice. Whenever we take a road trip I'll hook up my iPod and we can all enjoy the music. Katie has always needed a male role model in her life, and I've definitely taken on that responsibility. Our father was actually a wonderful man. While we still knew him, we loved him endlessly. He was incredibly kind to us and would always be there for positive encouragement. Just that fact meant I wasn't surprised when he was drafted, but I had no worries either. Daddy was big and strong. But others were bigger and stronger, and we one day received two letters. The first from him, telling us he'd been shot in the lung, and didn't know what would happen. The second a confirmation of his death, and an explanation as to why the first letter wasn't immediately sent due to his passing moments after. We were all crushed. But 6 years later, life has not let us down again, and moving on was made easy by our wonderful mother.
Katie and I have had a kind of relationship you'll see very rarely. It can be somewhere between platonic and intimate without being creepy or awkward. We hug and cuddle quite often, but I've never had any sexual thoughts about her.
But one night, she came home crying. A boy she'd met at a party a few weeks ago who had seemed to take interest let her down, harshly. She ran into my room, as was customary in her emotional moments, and collapsed into my now open arms on my bed. I gave her some time to gather herself before I encouraged her to explain.
While she was sobbing, I noticed something I hadn't before. Her breasts had gotten much larger recently, in lieu of height, and for some reason felt nice against my chest. I told myself it was stupid, but I was gaining a slight hard-on that was making me guilty.
I ran my hands up and down her back to calm her down, stroking her beautiful hair. I had always thought her hair has beautiful, but the recent summer highlights of blonde in her brunette curls were natural and gorgeous, tied back into a medium length ponytail. Again, I felt guilty, but decided I shouldn't. My sister was beautiful, and I knew it. I had always known it.
Finally, she had calmed down enough to speak. She pulled her face out of my shoulder, and I saw her in full make-up. I suppose it was waterproof, because only her eyeliner had run at all, and only very slightly. I realized again, she looked stunning. Her soft, blue eyes, shiny with tears, looked into mine, and her bright pink lips managed a slight smile.
I stretched myself across my bed to the tissues, whish she was having trouble reaching. Since I have a whole foot on her height, it was easy for me. Even my arms were monstrous in comparison to hers. Her small, light-brown tanned arms and legs, with a perfect tan line... She gladly took a tissue and cleaned off her face. Then we started our discussion.
She gave me a quick hug, and held both my hands with hers. After a sniffle, she said "Thanks, Jack. Just you holding me like that makes me feel better."
'Makes me feel pretty damn good too,' I thought.
"Of course," I said, "nothing makes me happier than knowing I can cheer you up. Now tell me your dilemma this time around."
Katie went on to explain what had happened. I had become rather good at getting the gist of what she was saying through her huge amount of pointless details, and could usually tune out and still know the whole story in the end. But this time, instead of daydreaming about video games or a girl from Southeast, I found myself looking at her a lot more. She was, even in this disheveled and upset state, gorgeous. She was wearing relatively tight clothing that showed off her ass when I could see it, and really accentuated her huge breasts. Her amazing hair was... Well, still amazing. She suddenly took it out of its ponytail and brushed it to one side, which for whatever reason drove me crazy. I wanted to grab her right there and show her what passion was all about, I could squeeze those breasts and that little ass, and... 'Oh my God, what am I thinking?' I was being ridiculous. This daydream was way inappropriate, even for a personal thought. I could tell by her tone that she was reaching the end of her story, so I tuned back in.
"Then Dahlia said he was a jerk anyway, and wouldn't have been any good as a boyfriend, but it was just the hope that got me so excited, I guess."
"I'm sorry, Katie.