She was singing in the shower again. Boy did I hate hearing her sing in there when she knew I was waiting on her. There was always my parents’ shower, but we tended to leave that one alone for whatever reason. So I stood there, waiting, pacing and generally worrying about whether I’d make it out to my job this morning. Sure I didn’t have to be there right on time seeing as how I was running my own thing during the summer for a while now, but it was the principle of the thing. I had commitments, and she was headed god knows where this morning. Believe me, this was not the first time.
Judging by tight and tiny workout clothes lain out on her bed, she was heading to the gym and was likely just doing some of her “beauty” exercise: designed only to maintain what was already near perfect. Oh yeah, and there was that; the fit, 18-year-old tart, my little sister Emma, singing the sweet notes that were breaking steadily through the sound of the falling water, was drop-dead gorgeous.
It started with the face: a cute but sultry combination of deep blue eyes, great cheekbones and a set of pouty, pink lips. Her dirty blonde hair often fell messily down, and sometimes in a tight braid. Now it would be wet and hanging down to her shoulders and her body below. There probably aren’t words for how amazing her body was, but either way, she had breasts made up of the perfect handful, a taut, smooth stomach, and never-ending slender legs coming from a spank-able behind.
She was rarely discrete about her prancing around the house, as she would be now if she walked out in one of those ridiculously small bath towels we owned. (I still don’t know where our mother could have possibly bought them) Sure, I felt guilty, but I assured myself that my deliberate avoidance of concentrating on how hot my little sister was was enough to balance the dreams I often had of her. Even my peripheral vision couldn’t un-see that half-naked angel bending down to take clothes out of the drier in a bra and panties on Sunday afternoons. And more than once did I see an unmistakable smirk on her face when my mouth dropped open wide as she flitted across the kitchen in near-nothing as I was making myself breakfast.
So there I was, waiting outside the door like a total sucker when I finally decided to address the problem, and whether it was my impatience or my considerable need to pee that led me to it I don’t know. I jiggled the doorknob just so (living in the same place for ten years you pick up a few things) and swung open the locked door, making right for the porcelain. I took care of business quickly, happy to have gotten there before I had an accident at 22 years old. It was then, standing there, that I noticed the silhouette of my little sister on the curtain.
Whatever the material was, it probably wasn’t designed for much privacy because I could see enough to get blood pumping to my lower half immediately. For crying out loud, I could even make out the pink of her nipple as she arched her back and ran water through her hair. I looked away, remembering my resolve. But there was nothing to be done; the most naked view of my sister I’d ever gotten had penetrated my defenses. My cock was all the way hard before I could do anything. Combine that with my accidental reflex to flush the toilet and I was about to be standing there with a raging boner just as my little sister realized I was in the bathroom.
She teased me enough about any girls I could be seen with, or my wide eyes when I turned the corner to her room in the middle of her undressing; God knows what she’d say about her big brother getting hard over his own sister. So I did the only thing I could do, sat down quickly and leaned forward to try and conceal my arousal. Just as expected, Emma poked her head around the edge of the curtain within seconds of the flush. She did a poor job of covering what the curtain revealed; that certainly wasn’t going to help the situation.
“What the fuck Andrew!” she hollered
“I had to go and you are taking so god damn long, I just couldn’t wait anymore!” I piped back.
“Ugh you are such a jerk, you never give me any privacy,” she steamed
That was a laugh – her prancing around the house was far from asking for privacy.
“You better not look,” she said as she disappeared behind the translucent shroud once again, “I’ve seen you do it before, hmph!” She said the second part a little quieter but I still heard it.
Seconds later, when I was practically begging my penis to calm down, the water suddenly shut off and I could hear Emma drying off and sliding back the curtain before I could do anything but hunch to try and avoid her seeing my stiff shaft. She led with her long, smooth leg before I could see the tops of her breasts threatening to free themselves from the snugly wrapped towel. I was beginning to doubt I’d get through this; her body was working overtime against me.
And then there it was, the little bit of water she’d dripped on the floor before when she’d pulled back the curtain to curse me out was just below her lead foot. Already lifting up her other foot to clear the tub, she was doomed. The heel slipped with an audible screech and Emma was heading backwards fast and directly toward where I sat. I didn’t know what to go for in my attempt to catch her; I removed my hands from their shielding of my erection. I reached out to grab her arms as they came for me, but her unbalanced stance sent her sweet bottom first. It slid right by my outstretched arms and down, I just missed it and I could only attempt to cushion her fall the way I did. And then she touched down…
It was an impossible chance, lightening striking the same shark attack twice. And yet, when I was just about to ease her to a stop, the final 8 inches of her fall made all the difference. My head popped just between her lips, and a second later it was buried within her. Emma came to rest completely sheathing me, her brother, inside of her.
Silence. Reality was trying its hardest to set in, but the utter warmth, the clasp of her walls, the wetness. Oh my God was she wet. And not ‘just out of the shower wet’ but more ‘now I know why she takes such long showers wet.’ “I must have interrupted her,” I thought as I savored being engulfed in my sister just after she’d been playing with herself. My hands were on her butt just as they were when I reached out to catch her, and she wasn’t even touching the floor. She made one small movement, testing what would happen if she tried to get up, and I’m not sure what she thought of the result.