My relationship with my sister began one Summer night shortly after her 17th birthday; I was 14 and in the throes of puberty. She was a fairly well-developed young woman who had just broken up with her steady boyfriend. Our relationship had never been close, and was particularly bad this week. She had caught me sniffing a pair of her panties I’d retrieved from the hamper – I’d wanted to know what a female smelled like there – and needed something to fuel a masturbatory fantasy. She’d asked me what I was doing.
I mombled something apologetic amidst her threats of telling our parents.
I assumed she wouldn’t follow through, as she rarely did. Plus I thought I detected a gleam of fascination with me holding her panties to my face. She was in a particularly bad mood that weekend, as our parents were away for a business trip, and she was assigned to stay at home for the weekend and babysit me. She made no secret of how disgusted she was at being grounded, and fully blamed my presence on earth for her troubles.
I was staying well clear of here, watching television in the family room while she played some music in our parent’s bar, or entertainment area. When she came into the family room, I thought I detected an odor of wine on her breath, as she had a fondness for wine coolers. She’d bathed earlier, and was wearing a thin cotton robe over some sort of baby doll pajama outfit. Her shapely, tanned legs had always fascinated me, and I tried to ignore their attractiveness now. She sat across from me on the couch, stretching those long, shapely legs out on front of her. Her pretty face was flushed from the wine, contrasting nicely with her sun-bleached hair. What were you doing with my panties the other day? she asked, her words slurring slightly from the wine.
I mombled something incoherent, hoping she’d drop the subject, as it really embarrassed me. She kept after it however, and I finally had to admit my desire.
I wanted to see what a girl smelled like down there, I confessed. This seemed to please her, as a smile crept over her face. Why didn’t you just ask? Her question surprised me, as she had always tried to deny my existence.
I told the truth.
I didn’t think you’d let me, if you knew I wondered. Did you find out what you wanted to know? came her teasing reply. No, you came in before I could find out. Emboldened, I added, Besides, I’d tried it before, but I guess they were in the hamper too long. Why don’t you try a fresh pair, then? she asked, a mischievous grin spreading cross her pretty, tanned face.
I could only gulp out an intelligible reply…figuring the wine had the best of her. Do you want to smell the pair I’m wearing now? As she asked me, she stood up, and placing her hands under her robe, dropped her pair of panties to the floor. My eyes fastened on them, mesmerized.
I was afraid to move, not wanting to break the mood, also realizing that I had a boner under my own pajamas. She hooked them with the toes of her foot, and kicked them across the room to me.
I caught a fleeting glance of her pubic hair as she kicked them to me, and felt my hardness stiffen even more. Go ahead, see what it smells like, she commanded. Picking them up, I could feel her dampness on the silky crotch of her underpants. Unable to resist, I raised them to my face, inhaling the fantastic flavor.
I wanted them to stay on my nose forever. Like it? Her question interrupted my reverie.
I could only nod and grunt, not trusting my own voice or emotions. Her next question totally floored me. Want to smell the real thing? She’d remained standing opposite me, her hands on her hips in a challenging pose.
I was mute.
I wanted to accept her challenge, but was …well, afraid to proceed. She turned with a swirl her open robe revealing her parted thighs barely covered by the top of her outfit. She walked to the stairs with a twitch of her hips. She looked at me with a grin, and offered again, If you want to, I’ll be upstairs. With that she went up the steps, where our two bedrooms and adjacent bath made up the entire upstairs.
It didn’t take me long to decide..I turned off the TV and went up the stairway, my heart pounding in my throat. At the top of the stairs I paused, not sure of whether to go to her room, or to my own and masturbate with her panties in my face (I still held them.) Gathering my nerve, I tapped on her door, saying You left these downstairs. Bring them in, she commanded.
I opened the door and entered her room. The lights were out, but her body on the bed was illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the windows. She still wore the baby doll top, but no robe hid her long, gorgeous legs which were beautifully displayed.
I stood there mute, unable to decide on how to proceed. She took care of that. Are you taking me up on my offer? she asked teasingly. Before I could answer, she parted her legs, saying Go ahead.
It’s OK. See what a real female smells like. Moving to the foot of her bed, I sat down between her feet. Taking charge, she parted her legs even more, saying It’s up here, you’ll have to lean over. Bracing myself on my elbows, I slid between those shapely, tanned thighs. Even before my face got close I could detect a musky flavor I’d never noticed before, even sniffing her panties.
I thought I could see her golden pubic hair and paused a few inches above the treasure between her legs, unsure of how to proceed.
I then felt her hands clasping the back of my head, drawing my face down, between the juncture of her thighs.