The early years of my adolescence had been painfully and regrettably uneventful. My natural curiosity, combined with raging hormones, had led me to learn everything I could about female anatomy and human sexuality. By the time I was 15, I considered myself a mini expert on the subject. Unfortunately, this expertise had come only from what I could read in books and see in magazines. To this point, the only experience my cock had seen was from my right hand. I wanted more, but really didn’t know how to get it.
It was about this time, I suppose, that I started to take a different sort of notice of my older sister. Monica is three years older than me, making her 18 at this time. The difference in our ages was not so big that we totally ignored each other, but we had never been what you would call, “close,” either. We acknowledged each other, but pretty much existed in separate worlds. Now, however, I had more reason to become more interested (those damn hormones!).
Let me describe Monica at 18 to you. With a father well over 6 feet tall and a mother 5’11”, it was inevitable they would have tall children. This genetic fact wasn’t lost on Monica. By her 18th year, she was 5′ 10″ and well into the latter stages of adult physical development. She wore her medium brown hair long, the full tresses flowing down to the middle of her back. She got her stature from both our parents, but the body she got from Mom. There was hardly an ounce of fat on her frame, but she wasn’t “skinny.” Having seen her bras in the laundry, I knew she was a 36B. Her breasts were full and round, with nipples that reacted openly to drops in temperature. Her height provided a pair of long legs that were usually nicely exposed by the mini-skirts of the early 70’s, and these were topped off by an ass that was definitely to die for. All in all, Monica was quite a looker. I thought why I hadn’t noticed before.
As for me, I guess you could say I was pretty average. I also got my distribute of the family height. At 15, I was already 6′ tall, with 2 more inches to come before I stopped. I’m not gonna embellish this by telling you that I was some sort of god in development. The description of my lack of experience should prove that to you, any way. I did cut a rather athletic figure, though. I was at all times training for one sport or another and kept myself in good shape.
Well, this all started in earnest in the Spring of the year. After a typically shitty northeastern winter, the air was fresh and the temperature was on the rise. I guess that’s what led to my new appreciation of Monica’s physical attributes. The long pants and full skirts of winter were now replaced by shorts and shorter skirts. The baggy sweaters were in storage for another year, now replaced by tee shirts, tank tops, and light blouses. I was convinced. This girl was a babe! At the moment of this discovery, I was not particularly happy. Remember, I was so horny the crack of dawn wasn’t safe and now I had this walking fantasy living in the same house. There had never been even a hint of sexual interest or play between us and I don’t think I was even considering this as a possibility. All I knew was, Monica was beautiful and I saw her every day.
We weren’t particularly open about sex in our family, but there was no strong prohibition laid out either. The same was true of our bodies. We didn’t frolic about the house nude, but coming and going from bedroom to bath in underwear was not unheard of. That was the beginning of it, you could say. One morning, I was heading to the shower before college. I was half way down the hall, when Monica came out of her room in just a bra and panties. We surprised each other, and stood frozen for a few seconds. It was long enough for me to get a full few of my sexy sister. I now had a new hobby. I would endeavor, whenever efficient, to get a glimpse of Monica in her skivvies as often as I could. I got pretty good at timing our departures for the bathroom in the morning. Each time, I would stare for as long as I could until she would either go back to her room or try to beat me to the bath. I usually let her win, because the sight of her body at all times left me with a raging hardon and I would head for my room for some quick relief.
This little game went on for a couple months as Spring became Summer. In June, the folks had planned a vacation. For the last couple of years, Monica and I were relieved of the obligation of the family trip, and stayed home for the week while Mom and Dad got a break. They left on Saturday morning and would be gone until the following Sunday.
The first two days of the week went by as typical. I kept up my game of trying to sneak a peek and then heading to my room to indulge in my favorite fantasy. Monday was gray, rainy day and Monica and I stayed around the house, just being bored. About 10:00 that evening, an early Summer thunder storm came up. I should tell you here that Monica has one great fear in life: lightning. Well, this was storm was particularly vivid. One of the big flashes hit a power transformer down the street and POW! out went the lights. Monica had been braving the storm in her room, but the darkness broke what was left of her resolve and she came out to look for me.
“Michael, where are you?”
“In the living room. What’s wrong?”
“I hate these goddamn storms!”
“OK, come in here and let your baby brother protect you!”
“Smart Ass! I don’t need protection, I just don’t want to be alone.”
“OK, I’m sorry. I know these things bug you. Come on in here and we’ll see if we can get anything on the radio.”
Monica came in and sat on the couch with me. I tried to tune something in on my little transistor radio. The storm was interfering, however, and all I could discover was an easy listening station. Monica said this was better than just listening to the thunder, so Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett it was. We sat there for a while listening to the music and then struck up a conversation. I had lit some candles and couldn’t help notice how good she looked in the dim light. My cock was noticing, too. Suddenly, there was enormous flash of lightning followed by a deafening thunder clap. I’m not bothered by storms, but even I jumped at that. Monica just about came out of her skin. The suddenness of her shock was a little too much for her and she started to cry. I guess seeing my sister so freaked touched something in me. Instead of teasing her, I moved closer on the couch.
“Hey, sis, it’s OK. The thunder can’t hurt you.”
“OH, Michael, I get so scared!”
I put my arm around her. She wasn’t kidding. Monica was shaking all over and her sobs were coming harder. I pulled her close and hugged her. She responded by hugging back, hard. I guess the closeness helped, because her crying slowed to a whimper and she stopped shaking. With the crisis past, I began to take notice of the situation. I had never hugged my sister for this long before. She had snuggled into me and didn’t seem to want to end the contact. The feeling was quite mutual. I just lightly stroked her back, trying to calm her fright. Just then, BANG! another round of hard thunder. Monica jumped into my arms and hung for dear life. She didn’t begin crying, though, just hugged harder.
Next, something happened that I never expected. Monica pulled her face out of my chest and looked up at me. This image will be burned in my brain as long as I live. Her face, wet with tears, was extremely inviting. She smiled, and, almost imperceptibly, nodded. I lowered my face to her and we kissed as more than brother and sister for the first time. It was a long, slow kiss. Our tongues just naturally found each other. I felt like I was in heaven.
The kiss broke, and we looked at each other. I wondered maybe this would be the end of things, but I was wrong. Monica reached up with her mouth and the kiss was renewed. At this point, my brain was on automatic. As our kiss continued, I slid my hand up and lightly caressed her breast. That which I had been looking at almost daily now was in my hand.