Chapter 2: You Have Mail

So there I was, the guy who had lurid pictures of his sister in his locker. It was mid-summer by that point; about a month-and-a-half to go before I would go home. I was wondering what our relationship would look like after this. I planned to move to a campus in a different town (about an hour away) that school year, got an apartment with a friend of mine. So I wouldn't see her at home every day. But I still wondered how what we were doing would change our brother-sister relationship. Where did I want it to go? Where COULD it go? We came from a very conservative and religious family. There was no way we could ever tell anyone even just about the pictures she sent me, never mind anything else that might happen.

So I was the guy with these questions rattling around in my head with "normal" people all around me at work that summer, intensely turned on by my own sister and trying to come to grips with the possibility that she may return the interest. Every opportunity I had when alone in the room, I would get out her pictures and have the most insane masturbations of my life while looking at my own sister. The taboo of what I was doing just added to the intensity in a way that was absolutely mind-spinning.

So what to do next? I got a letter from her a couple of days after the pictures had arrived along with one from mom and dad (I'm assuming she mailed the pictures on her own, privately, to keep mom and dad from asking questions). Her letter was pretty normal and she didn't mention the pictures, but she was complaining a lot about the guy she was dating at the time. I wrote back a normal letter, agreeing with what she said about her boyfriend and casually suggesting that she and I spend a bit more time with each other. Maybe we could do a drink and a hike every so often or some such, to help her feel better.

This was really out of character for us. Our relationship was good, and it had evolved over time. But it was also the usual bump-friction that brothers and sisters usually have, and we would not ever have just taken off together. We'd have the odd lunch together or something during the day, but nothing beyond that. So this was putting myself out there a bit. I also knew that she wouldn't share the letter outright with mom and dad, so it was private-ish. But I still didn't want to suggest anything that would either freak her out and/or look weird to our parents if they did read the letter.

Almost as an afterthought (so as to not draw undue attention to it), I thanked her for helping my days and that they were much better. I was assuming she would get the hidden meaning.

Fast forward a couple of weeks. I got another letter from mom and dad along with one from her. Again more shitty developments with her boyfriend, stuff about how she liked her summer job etc... And then, but most importantly, the casual afterthought line of "Yeah, I'd like to do stuff. You'll have to drive, though! No wheels for me. And I get to choose the places because I have some class and good taste."

So, she wasn't freaked out by my spend-more-time-together suggestion and she wasn't having regrets from sending the pics. In my mind, that was a win. And it only made me want to look at her pictures more, even as I wondered where we were both going with this. Maybe it was just a one-off, and it would be platonic again from here on out.

Then, a couple of days later, another envelope arrived from her. As I sat on my bed (again with my roommate in the room), I thought maybe it's just another letter. Maybe she's weirded out.

As I opened it, I realized it was again double-enveloped. Again the inner envelope read, "Top Secret. To make sure you keep getting through the days."

A lightning bolt to my brain as I sat on the bed looking at that envelope. The anticipation was immense. I was breathless, too rattled even to get an erection in my shorts. I was just so blown away that she had sent more, more for me to look at her. It was like time stood still and the world around me faded into the background. Stay casual, don't make it look like you're opening sexy pictures from your sister. Totally normal...

Picture 1. Her bent over towards the camera, clearly showing cleavage, of which she did not have much. Her slender nineteen-year-old figure did not include giant boobs. They were small, and the way she was bending forward made her shirt fall, revealing the tops of her bra cups and the tantalizing snow-white upper portions of her breasts, which she knew I would look at. Which she wanted me to look at. She had pulled her long red hair back over her shoulders to give me a better view. Her face had the, "You like these, pervert?" sort of smirk.

Picture 2. Her sitting on the couch in the family room, slim red shirt on, black stockings and black panties, but no skirt. Her legs were crossed and her hands were folded neatly, so prim and proper. Her red hair streamed down around her shoulders, smirk and blue eyes blazing at me. I could tell she was feeling naughty and enjoying this.

Picture 3. Her lying back on the couch, one leg up and another straight, in stockings. Shirt and panties, her looking over at the camera, lifting up her shirt slightly. I could see her smooth, slim tummy.

Picture 4. Her in white bra and panties, only, standing up, hands on her hips, head cocked to the side and "You really like this, don't you, pervert" sort of smirk. She was still in the family room.

Picture 5. Picture taken from the dresser at the foot over her bed. She was sitting up in bed, covered from just above her breasts, and her bra and underwear were laid out on the blanket in front of her, long red hair thrown back over her shoulders, naughty smirk, the sexiest I had ever seen any girl.

So she was interested, in at least teasing me. But she was also cool with hanging out just one on one. I tried to not get ahead of myself and be presumptuous. But it was hard, and so was my dick.

It's an altogether consuming experience to share a secret of an intimate nature with your sibling. I found it hard to think of anything else except her, and what may come when I'd get home.