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Subject: i n c e s t story: "A Little Blue Dress" 21013
From: rabinofben@yahoo.com
Date: Wed, 21 Jun 2006 06:08:25 +0000
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A Little Blue Dress
Being only two years older than my sister, my
earliest memories of Barbara are of her around age
4. She didn't turn into a jock until she got into
High School. As a kid, Barb was all girl; dolls,
tea parties attended by imaginary guests... in
other words, everything yucky to a older brother.
Therefore we never did very much together as kids.
Sometimes we played board games as a family, but
that's about it. You don't grow particularly close
to a sibling playing Chutes and Ladders once in a
while.
Sure, over time the games became more adult as we
kids grew up. Before you start getting too excited
by the word adult, I mean games like Scrabble and
Monopoly. But other than enforced associations
during family outings, or planned rainy day
events, Barb and I mostly went our separate ways.
Since we spent little time in each other's face,
we rarely fought. Guess you could say we liked
each other.
Barb grew into a big, strong girl. Thanks to being
an enthusiastic athlete, she developed powerful,
long legs. The girl loved to run, she liked field
hockey, softball, and basketball. Being 5' 10"
certainly helped her in all three sports. For fun,
Barb loved to swim. If you hadn't guessed, she had
a body to die for. Being a guy, I have no idea
about dress sizes or bra cups. When she wore a
swim suit, it looked like a couple plump, tasty
oranges were hiding under her top.
Don't get me wrong, I adore breasts, but I'd
seldom paid overmuch attention to my sister's,
except to appreciate that she had a fabulous body
to my way of thinking. Her muscle definition
reminded me of a marble statue.
Another reason we weren't overly close; my little
sister never needed a big brother. At an early
age, Barb was strong enough to beat the living
daylights out of any guy stupid enough to treat
her poorly. Don't get me wrong, I liked Barb,
respected her, loved her, I'd do anything to keep
her from harm. She just never needed rescuing.
Wholesome is the way I'd describe her appearance.
During warm weather, she was usually tan, which
brought her freckles out. She had brownish-green
eyes. What you saw often depended upon what she
wore, or the lighting. Normally she sported a
single pony tail. When she dressed up a bit, she
let her hair down. Then it framed her face,
curling under her jaw line. Long bangs just made
the picture prettier.
Despite what I've described, maybe her best
feature was her pearly white smile. So, did I have
the 'hots' for my sister? Nope. Sure, I'd wondered
more than once what she looked like naked. Had I
ever had a fantasy about her late at night while
seeking a little five-finger relief? Yeah, a
couple times, but it was mostly soon after seeing
her almost Amazonian body in a bikini. Even then
it was more because Barb's had been the sexiest
body I'd seen that day, so it fresher in my mind.
And that's how life was... until the little blue
dress.
* * *
I remember every detail as clearly as if I had it
on video tape. It was a Friday night. I'd hit the
college Student Union after my afternoon classes.
Having no plans for the evening, I'd hung out with
some casual friends to kill a little time.
Occasionally I'd stumble into a last minute date
that way. I found a few laughs, but no good leads,
so I headed home for dinner.
Walking upstairs, I froze 4 steps from the top.
Above me, on the landing, just about to start
down, was Barb. Apparently she had a date, and was
ready to leave. She rarely wore make up, she
didn't need it. Tonight Barbara had applied just
that little bit needed to transform her cutesy,
Ivory Snow, girl next door face, into a highly
desirable young woman's. A touch of eye shadow
with a few sparkles gave her eyes a pixyish look.
Long shiny brown hair framed her face. Glossy red
lipstick, a touch of blush, and a blue dog collar
necklace with a small fake-ruby broach; all of
that hit me as I looked up, seeing her for the
first time.
My problem began because the little blue dress she
was wearing. I'm guessing it was new. I'd
certainly never seen it before, I would have
remembered. From my vantage point several steps
below her, what greeted my eyes was totally
devastating.
Yes, Barb looked great, but that dress. It was
just a plain, simple little cotton dress, but it
fit her as if the designer had Barbara in for a
custom fitting. It was sleeveless, had a scooped
front, a small pocket on each side at the top of
her hips, and a wide zipper down the front. It was
short enough to show a lot of thigh normally, but
from where I stood, her long, sculpted legs seemed
to rise into the clouds like Jack's beanstalk. Her
makeup was simple, her dress was simple, but at
that moment Barbara looked to me like the ultimate
vision of femininity.
I couldn't move, couldn't think. I stood there
dumbly.
"You coming up or what?"
It still took a couple seconds to register that
Barb was waiting for me to get upstairs so she
could go down. My feet felt as if I was wearing
lead boots when I finally began to ascend the few
remaining stairs. At last I got to the landing. I
had ogled her unblinkingly. Reaching the landing,
instead of moving aside so she could pass, I took
her by the shoulders, turning her so we were
facing. Then I blithely said the stupidest thing
ever to come out of my mouth.
"Barbara, you are the sexist looking girl I've
ever seen. I want to lose my virginity with you."
For several seconds we stood frozen like to wax
statues. Each face wore a half-formed expression.
Barb's reflected the smile she'd begun when she
thought a casual compliment was all she'd hear. My
face was locked into whatever position it had been
in when the final syllable escaped my mouth. I
couldn't believe what I'd just said. God knows my
sister had to be thunderstruck.
Like an angry bee in a bottle, my words banged
around inside my skull, forcing me to hear them
again and again. I couldn't form a rationale
thought. I was terminally embarrassed. I wanted to
run and hide, so I did. Doing an about face, I
headed for my room like a shot, closing the door
behind me.
I avoided Barb like the plague the following few
days. I mean, God, which was more embarrassing,
admitting I was still cherry, or that she'd looked
so sexy that I wanted to jump her? The few times
we passed, be both seemed to find the floor
unimaginably interesting. Few words passed between
us, those that did were inconsequential. Just
mumbled, mundane phrases dealing with day-to-day
living, like "Pass the salt, please."
Many days turned into many weeks. Gradually, it
seemed to me as if our normal existence had
returned. Barb led her life, I led mine. Not a
word about my declaration was ever mentioned.
* * *
It was a Thursday afternoon. When I got home, I
spotted a note Mom had left on the fridge. She and
Dad would bring home dinner. They had a lawyer's
appointment, so they'd be a little late. I grabbed
a can of soda, then headed to my room. Routine
daily sounds informed me that Barb in her room as
I reached the landing. The stairs squeaked badly
enough that she'd know I was home now. Saying
nothing, I went into my room, then stretched out
on my bed with a book I had to read.
No more than 10 minutes later, Barb walked in very
purposely. I looked up about two strides before
she reached my doorway. She wore no make up, her
hair was in it's usual ponytail, but she was
barefoot and wearing her little blue dress. She
showed no particular emotion. Her swift approach
froze me like a deer caught in headlights.
With one quick motion, Barb was at the side of my
bed, then was straddling my legs just above my
knees. Ever notice the look of utter incredulity
on the faces of people caught on Candid Camera,
those looks that say "I'm seeing this, but I CAN'T
be seeing this!!" I had one of those expressions
as I watched Barb undo my belt, lower my zipper,
then pull my pants down to my knees.
Her warm right hand gripped my flaccid penis.
Immediately she began to earnestly stroke me. I
inflated like a balloon on a helium tank. Mere
seconds passed until I was doing a broom handle
imitation. Still showing no emotion, she planted
her hands on the bed above my hips. Shifting her
weight onto her arms, Barb pulled her hips level
with mine.
She rose up on her knees, then hiked her little
blue dress up to her waist. God in heaven, she'd
worn no panties. Completely numbed by shock, I lay
staring at her light covering of dishwater blond
fur and the unimaginably sexy slit it couldn't
entirely hide. I continued to stare wide-eyed as
she gripped my shaft, centered it underneath her
pussy, then lowered herself until I could only see
her pubic hair meshing with mine.
Silently she rose and fell. My eyes were glued
between us where, for the first time, I was seeing
my penis move in and out of a women. My system was
now experiencing as great a physical shock, as
emotional. I felt heat, warmth, softness, gripping
muscles, erotic ridges, textures, and so much
more. I'd seen few bare beavers. Not only was I
seeing a beautiful pussy, I was seeing my sister's
for the first time since her infancy.
A virgin's body was not designed to handle many
sexual shocks. My hips came very much to life. I
began to thrust upward so hard I caused Barb to
make 'ooof' sounds as I knocked the air out of
her. My sperm was flooding into her body before
the thought "I'm coming" could register. I suspect
I came for longer than I'd made love. It might've
taken several minutes before I no longer felt like
I was ejaculating.
When I stopped, I stopped cold. I was physically
and emotionally drained.
Managing to look up to Barb's face, I saw her
looking down, watching me like a researcher might
gaze at a white rat. If she was thinking or
feeling anything, I couldn't read it in her
expression. Calm as you please, she leaned over
me. Plucking tissues out of the box in my
headboard, Barb slipped them between us. She rose
until I fell out, then she caught our combined
fluids as they drained.
She got off me. Her little blue dress fell back
into place. Dropping the soggy tissues into my
wastebasket, Barb turned, with a feline fluidity
she walked gracefully out of my room, silently,
like she'd just come in to borrow a pen.
I lay there limp as wet rag, my cock still
drooling, pants still at my knees. Though barely
conscious, one thought managed to repeat itself a
hundred times, "WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED!"
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