My Crocheting Little Sister

Her getting the best of me gets out of control.

I published this story on 3/26/18. Before publishing it, I wrestled with should I put a warning at the start of the story. In the end, I decided to not do so because I thought putting a warning would scare off a lot of readers who would enjoy the story. I'm very glad I didn't, as not one reader expressed offense to the content of the story.

I took this and all my other stories down in January 2023. I've done some cleanup before republishing it.

"I'm home!" I announced as I came in the back door of my parents' house.

"Mark!" Mom cried as she entered the kitchen. "I've missed you so!" She wrapped me up in a big hug. "How'd your junior year end?"

"Good. I thought I did well on all my finals."

Mom gave me a big smile. "Wonderful." Then she yelled, "Karen! Your brother's home!"

Karen yelled back, "So?"

Mom walked to the edge of the kitchen and yelled upstairs. "Come help him bring his stuff in."

"Why?"

My mom sighed exasperatedly. "Because he's going to help you move into your dorm!" My sister was going to be a freshman this fall at a college different than mine.

"Oh, all right."

I smirked as I heard my sister stomp down the stairs. Karen probably had been doing crafting stuff and was acting pissed about being interrupted. My mom looked like she was ready to strangle someone by the time Karen came into the kitchen.

Growing up, I used to get in huge fights with my sister all the time. She had seemed to enjoy provoking me until I blew up. But then I grew up a lot during my freshman year in college, and, afterward, I ignored her provocations or laughed at them, which seemed to piss her off far more than yelling ever did. I still gave her a ton of crap but in a teasing way.

When Karen came into the kitchen, I grabbed my two suitcases and told her, "Bring the rest of the stuff in my car up to my room."

"What are you going to be doing?" she asked testily.

"Putting stuff away. Duh."

Karen turned red. "Why do I have to carry all the rest of your stuff up to your room?"

"Because when you move into your dorm room, I'll be the one hauling all your stuff while you and Mom are putting up your unicorns and rainbows."

Karen put her hands on her hips and said tartly, "I'm not ten years old anymore, idiot."

I walked past her as I left the kitchen. "Aren't most ten-year-olds taller than you?" Karen was five foot and an eighth, and very sensitive about her height.

Mom yelled, "Stop it right now! No more fighting you two."

* * * *

A little later, Karen brought up my laundry basket which was full of miscellaneous items. She looked as angry as she had been in the kitchen. As soon as she got to my room, I said earnestly, "Hey, I'm sorry about the crack about your height. It was out of line." Karen seemed surprised that I was apologizing. "Bad habits die hard. It was a terrible way to greet you as soon as I got home." Karen gave me a sidelong glance. "I appreciate you helping me by carrying my stuff up. If you ever need me to help carry your craft stuff, let me know."

Karen looked at me dubiously, like she doubted the sincerity of my apology. I turned away to hang up a shirt. I hoped she'd accept my apology. Even though she drove me nuts at times, I liked my sister.

When I finished hanging up a shirt, I turned to see Karen holding up a pair of black leather handcuffs that had been in my suitcase. She asked, "What are these?"

"None of your business," I said as I raced across the room.

By the time I got to Karen, she had two more items out of my suitcase. "Oh my god! Look at this! A ball gag? A blindfold? And are these..." - she dug around in my suitcase - "...nipple clamps?"

I was pissed about the invasion of my privacy. "They're none of your damn business." I grabbed each item. "Now, get out of here and get something else out of my car!" I was on the verge of yelling. I hadn't been this angry in a long time.

"I'll tell Mom."

"Jesus Christ, Karen! You're eighteen. None of this 'I'll-tell-Mom' bullshit."

I didn't want Mom involved. It was embarrassing enough that Karen had seen my bondage stuff. Mom was super-conservative and would go ape shit if she saw it.

Karen smiled, enjoying getting me so worked up. She called out, "Mom!" Not so loud that Mom would hear her, but too loud for my comfort.

"Okay, okay!" I said in surrender. "I'll tell you about them later. They cost me a lot of money, so I couldn't bring myself to throw them away, but I've never used them, and I never intend to use them."

From Karen's grin, I can tell she was savoring her victory. "When are you going to tell me about them?"

I sighed in frustration. "Tonight. Let me get all my stuff unpacked, and I'll come to your room. Okay?" After I hide them someplace where hopefully no one will ever find them.

"And you can get the rest of the stuff from your car, right?"

Fuck! She had me by the balls and knew it. I decided to accept defeat gracefully. "Right."

Karen gave me a huge smile. "I'll go back to crafting then."

* * * *

Later that night, I found Karen in her craft room. Our house was a two-story, with three bedrooms and a bath on the second floor. The third bedroom had been a guest bedroom, but Karen had converted it into her craft room. She was constantly making something. When I came in, she was sitting at a table doing something with yarn. "Hey, Karen."

Karen got up. "Hey, Mark." She bent over the guest bed. "Let me clear a place for you." She moved enough of her craft stuff out of the way so I could sit down, and then she went back to her chair and to whatever she was doing.

"Knitting?" I asked.

"Crocheting."

Whatever. I had no clue as to the difference.

I had no interest in Karen's crafting. I had hated it when in school I had to do crafting bullshit. I couldn't color worth a damn, and I struggled to cut things with scissors. Beat the crap out of another football player? I could do that all day. Sign my name nicely in cursive? My signature was a fucking scribble. My sister was the complete opposite. Even when she was little, she had been able to turn a couple of pieces of paper and a glue stick into a work of art. She could paint, do paper mâché, and needlework. She was building up an inventory of craft items to sell at craft fairs before Christmas.

Karen and I were so different. We didn't even look like siblings. While Karen was short and thin, I was a relatively big guy at six feet with broad shoulders. Karen looked like my mom, whose family came from Bavaria (the southern part of Germany) and had blue eyes, straight blond hair, and fair skin that my mother's family said was typical of Bavarian girls. Karen's hair was now down to her bust line. My father's family was Italian, and I looked like him with brown eyes and curly dark brown hair that I kept fairly short. One Halloween, Karen and I had gone trick-or-treating as Princess Peach and Mario. I had never lived that down. My football teammates had loved to greet me with "Hey, Mar-i-o! How's Princess Peach?"

Karen said in a teasing tone, "So those items in your suitcase?"

I sighed. "I dated this girl, Aiden, this year, and she was big into Fifty Shades. Had all the books and movies. Made me watch them with her."

"What did you think of them?"

"The movies? They sucked. Stupid plots. Worst dialogue ever. Even the sex scenes blew." I shook my head. "But she loved them and was super in-the-mood after we watched them, so I learned to suffer through."

Karen kept crocheting, but I could tell she was interested in what I was saying.

I added, "So one day, Aiden told me she wants to do bondage like in Fifty Shades. She wanted me to tie her up and have sex with her."

"And did you?" Karen asked with a surprising amount of eagerness.

"I told her I didn't want to do that." My least favorite conversation about sex ever. "But she kept bringing it up. So I eventually ordered a set of bondage items. I felt stupid doing it, but she was really excited about it."

"Then what happened?" The eagerness was definitely there.

"The bondage stuff came in. She pulled the items out of the box as soon as they arrived. She loved playing with them. And she told me we'd use them the next time her roommate was going to be gone for a while."

"And?"

"We never used the stuff. When her roommate was going to be gone for the day, Aiden decided we should wait until her roommate was gone for the weekend. When her roommate was gone for the weekend, Aiden had too much studying to do. She kept making excuses. And it really upset me. The bondage stuff wasn't very expensive, but it had been expensive buying it in such a way that my roommate didn't know I had bought it. I was hiding the stuff in my car and would have to sneak it into my room every time I thought we were going to do something, and then I'd have to sneak it back every time it fell through. Finally, she admitted she didn't want to do it, but by then I couldn't return the items."

"Did she pick out a safe word?"

"What?" It took me a moment to figure out what she was asking. "Oh, yeah. She picked out five or six. She found picking a safe word super-exciting."

"What did she pick?"

I rolled my eyes. "I don't remember. I think the last one was rainbow. It was stupid. I was never going to hurt her. I was going to tie her up, but I wasn't going to whip her or anything."

Karen got a far-away look in her eyes. "My safe word would be yarn. It's short and very distinctive."

"Wait a second." I can be slow about women, but I could put two and two together. "Are you into this Fifty Shades stuff too?"

Suddenly, Karen got all flustered. I stood up and started leaving the room. "Where are you going?" she asked. I ignored her and walked across the hallway to her bedroom. She followed me. I went over to her bookcase.

"What are you doing?" Karen asked indignantly.

"Nothing," I said as I scanned the book titles.

Karen said firmly, "You can leave."

"I'll leave in a second." I knelt and continued scanning. Then I reached the bottom right of her bookcase. "What do we have here? Fifty Shades of Grey, Fifty Shades Darker, and Fifty Shades Freed." I pulled out the first book. "It looks well read."

I looked up at Karen. She was furious, a thundercloud ready to explode. "Get out this instant!"

I put the book back, stood up, and said, "I'm making my way out."

I scanned the room for movie boxes and didn't see any. The family rule was that all the movies were to be kept downstairs next to the Blu-ray player.

Instead of walking out, I went to the closet and opened the doors.

"What are you doing? Leave my stuff alone!"

"I'm not touching anything."

Karen's closet was about five feet wide and three feet deep. I looked on the top shelf in the upper right and saw three movie boxes. "My, my, my."

"Get out! Get out, right now!"

"Just a sec," I said soothingly. Mom was short like Karen and wouldn't be able to see or reach the movies. I stood up on my tiptoes and pulled the three Fifty Shades movies down. "It's the whole collection."

I turned to Karen, who had her arms crossed and looked like she was doing everything to keep from screaming. She pointed to the door and said, "Out! And never come in my room again!"

I smiled warmly, handed her the movies, and said, "Certainly."

I chuckled evilly as I left the room.

* * * *

I went downstairs and talked to Mom. It was a little past nine, so it'd be a while before Dad got home. He worked the second shift at a nearby hospital. I decided to celebrate my small triumph over Karen with some ice cream. Mom went with me into the kitchen to ask me more questions about college. I was digging out my first scoop when Karen came in, looking still pissed that I had found her Fifty Shades stash. Mom was at the dining room table. Karen stood behind Mom and stuck out her tongue at me. I struggled to keep a straight face. She raised her hands to the side of her head so her thumbs were in her ears and her fingers were standing up then wiggled her hands at me while sticking her tongue out some more. I continued to ignore her, which seemed to make her angrier than ever.

Once I had my bowl filled, I sat down at the dining room table with Karen and Mom. I said, "I'm really excited about my job this summer. It'll be great to have a real job." The previous two summers, I had driven an ice cream truck. I had rented an ice cream truck that was full of ice cream for a few hours and had gotten to keep a percentage of what I had sold. I had basically made minimum wage. Now, I was going to be an intern in the Marketing department of a corporation only a few miles from our house. "I'll get some wonderful experience and develop important business skills." I turned to Karen. "What are you going to be doing this summer?" I already knew the answer.

"I'll be making craft items to sell."

I rolled my eyes. Two could play the immature brat game.

Karen said defensively, "It's a lot like Marketing. I have to decide what's going to sell well and what's going to be worth my time to make. I've been coming up with some really cool designs."

I snorted. "For what? Blankets? I can see you at the senior center, hanging out with your knitting buddies."

"Crocheting! And I won't be making blankets."

Mom was looking exasperated again. It was like she found refereeing my conversations with Karen exhausting, but couldn't stop doing it.

I asked, "What will you be making then?"

Karen got very embarrassed. Finally, she said in a small voice, "Clothing."

Mom asked, "What type of clothing?"

When Karen didn't respond, I asked, "Scarves? Hats?"

She didn't say anything for a while and then said, "Clothing."

I chuckled. "Yeah, I can see you in a rocking chair at the senior center, cranking out your scarves with your best friends, Edna and Agnes."

Karen shot me a look full of daggers. If looks could kill, I'd be dead ten times over.

I turned to Mom. "Dress code at work is business casual. Where do you think I should go to buy clothes?"

Mom seemed grateful for a topic that Karen and I wouldn't fight over. "Well, at the mall, there's..."

* * * *

I spent the next day loafing. At five, I went down to the kitchen to get started on dinner. Mom got home between 6:10 and 6:15, and she wanted dinner ready to be served by 6:20. Way back when I had started middle school and had accordingly left for school much later, Mom had changed her work hours so she'd get to work an hour later and stay until six. She loved the change because people were always bringing her crises at 4:45, forcing her to work late. Now, she rarely worked late. She had kept the later hours even after Karen had moved on to high school.

I looked at the menu to see what was for dinner. Lasagna. I pulled the Stouffers lasagna out of the freezer and began following the instructions. I had started cooking dinner when I was in middle school. Mom bought lasagna and other pre-made casseroles, and I baked them. Dad cooked on the weekends, mostly burgers or hot dogs on the grill. The other students complained about the food in the dorms, but I found it better than the food at home.

As the oven was preheating, Karen came into the kitchen for a drink of water. I said, "You could be doing this."

"I could, but I've been doing it for the last nine months."

"So you should be really good at it."

Karen chuckled. "Like it's hard to follow the directions on a box."

I looked at the menu and saw that the side was to be salad. I verified we had enough for three. When I closed the refrigerator door, Karen was still in the kitchen. I figured she had something to say or ask, so I reread the lasagna directions to kill time until she spoke.

"Are you still dating Aiden?"

"Nope. Broke up a few weeks ago."

"Did you break up because she chickened out?"

"No, not really." I put the lasagna into the oven and started a timer. "It got boring after a while, so I decided to move on."

"Boring?"

"Yeah. It was great at first. She's a big reader like I am. When we had free time, we'd hang out in the lounge on our dorm floor and read together. When people walked by, we'd talk with them."

Talking with Karen now was a lot different than it had been last night. We were talking as adults, and Karen was expressing polite interest in my life. She asked, "What kind of books does she read?"

"Young adult. Only the best sellers, typically the ones that have been made into movies. She reads the same ones over and over." The only books I reread were the Harry Potter books; I was a huge Potter fan. I read a variety of stuff, both fiction and non-fiction. "Have you read many Young Adult novels?"

"Not many."

"They're all the same in one way - lots of romance but no sex. It got to really annoy me after a while. Have you seen or read The Hunger Games?"

"No, but I've heard of it."

"Katniss is this smoking hot, badass sixteen-year-old that no one has ever asked out. Never been kissed. She goes to the Hunger Games and teams up with this good-looking guy from her hometown who's madly in love with her. There's a huge incentive for her to make out with him as that's what the audience watching the games wants, and you get rewards when you make the audience happy. She could literally die the next day. So you'd think she'd cut loose and make out like crazy, right? Maybe even get naked and have a little fun? But oooh no; she can't do that. And she can't because...because girls in Y-A novels don't do that." I shook my head in disgust. "It'd be fine if it was only one book like that. But they're all like that."

"So? Why should you care?"

"I care because what made reading with Aiden enjoyable was talking about what we had just read. It stopped being fun when every book she read made me groan."

I expected Karen to turn what I had told her into a dig of some sort. I knew I would. Instead, she seemed to even-handedly judge what I had said. She asked, "Why didn't you do something different?"

Damn good question. I got myself a glass of water while I thought of an answer. "We should have. We talked about doing something different, but we never did. It was easy, so we always did it." I decided to make the discussion a little racy. "Sex between us was like that, always the same thing. It was as if we had a checklist that we went through every time. I wanted to do something different, but I never did. I didn't know how to get us off the checklist." I took a long sip of water. Karen didn't say anything. "I think that's why her stalling over the bondage stuff bothered me so much. At least that would have been different." I took another long drink. "What about you? Dating anyone?"

Karen set her glass down and crossed her arms. "I'm not dating anyone. I'm too boring. I don't drink, don't go to parties, don't go to football or basketball games, and I don't go to movies. I stay home and craft."

"What about that guy you dated for a while? Guido?"

Karen almost ground her teeth. "Jonathan!"

"Yeah, Jonathan. What happened with him?"

Karen picked up her drink and stared into it. "He was nice. Probably too nice. Nothing really happened between us. After a while, I decided I enjoyed crafting more."

"No orphans in your class who were adopted by an incredibly wealthy family and were into bondage and dominance?"

Karen gave me a little smile. "No."

I raised my arms in an oh-well gesture. "Too bad. There were two or three of those in my class."

That got a big smile.

* * * *

Saturday, I drove over to pick up my Italian grandmother. She lived in an adult retirement community and no longer drove. I knew she loved me to pieces and would do anything for me (and Karen), but I had a tough time being with her for long periods of time. She was a talker, and she always told me all the latest news at her place. I really didn't care about who had won big at bingo, who had recently been sent to the hospital, or who had offended one of the different dining room factions.
Grandma spent the weekend with us, as she did fairly often. I was happy to take her to Sunday evening mass and bid her farewell.

* * * *

Monday at 5:15, I parked my car in front of our house and came in the front door. Karen came down the stairs and joined me in the kitchen. She said, "I'm glad you got home in time to make dinner. How was your first day at work?"

"Not what I was expecting, though I'm not sure what I was expecting. How was your day?" I checked the menu to see what I was making tonight.

"Worked on crafts. Went for a run." My sister enjoyed running and ran almost every day during the summer. "Went over to Gwen's and did more crafting. Got home a little while ago. How was your day not what you expected?"

I pulled out the chicken penne casserole and read the baking instructions. I didn't have to start it for a while. "First part of my day was spent in HR. I filled out paperwork and watched videos. I learned lots and lots of things not to do. Then for a while, I watched people pick out health insurance plans."

"Sounds exciting," Karen said sarcastically.

"Oh, it was," I said, sharing her sarcasm. "I spent a lot of time on my phone. HR finally let us go at around eleven. By then I had met the other Marketing intern, Terrence. He seemed pretty cool. We found our supervisor, Sandy. She walked us over to where our cube is. The company has built a new building on the campus, and Marketing will be moving to the third floor of it. Terrence and I are the first Marketing people to move in. She made sure we could get into our emails, and she had us send her a test email. Then she told us to take a long lunch and be back at her office at 1:45."

Karen snorted. "Wow! Busy, busy, busy!"

"Yeah. So Terrence and I wandered around the campus exploring. They have a really nice health center with lots of quality workout equipment. Terrence had also been a starter on his high school football team, and we talked about working out together before our workday started. And then we had a leisurely lunch in the cafeteria - lots of tasty-looking food options. Finally, we showed up at Sandy's cube at 1:45. She told us that she'd get us on a project tomorrow, but this afternoon we were to help a guy named Warren move to the new building. After we were done helping him move, we were to stay in our cube over there until five, at which point we were to email her that we were leaving. Also, she told us that as interns, we could wear jeans and T-shirts to work. So we helped Warren box up all his stuff, hauled it over to the new building, and helped him unbox it. Then we hung out until five."

Karen's eyes twinkled. "Do you think you'll get home at this time every day?"

I shrugged. "I hope not. Hopefully, I'll get a big project, and I'll stay late regularly working on it. And you can cook dinner. But I wouldn't be surprised if I came home at this time for the next few days."

* * * *

I got to my cube a few minutes before eight, and Terrence was already there. He said, "Sandy sent an email last night that we should be in her office at 9:15 to learn about our project. You wanna go lift weights until then?"

"Sure. Let me send my email first."

At 9:15, Terrence and I arrived at Sandy's office. Sandy guided us over to someone named Deb's office and told us to return to her office once Deb had explained what she wanted us to do.

Deb said, "I'll be gone on vacation for the next two weeks, and you're to water my plants while I'm gone." Her office had ten plants in it, and she explained exactly how she wanted each plant watered. Terrence took notes. Not what I pictured when Sandy had said project.

After Deb was done, we went back to Sandy's office. Sandy said, "Perfect." She grabbed a clipboard, looked at it, and announced, "Let's go visit Jill."

Sandy introduced Terrence and me to Jill. "Jill, they're going to help you move to the new building. Warren said they did a great job helping him yesterday." Sandy turned to us. "Be back at my office at 1:30."

Terrence and I helped Jill pack up her stuff and haul it over to the new building. The two-shelf cart we used to move her stuff was designed for moving around office supplies. It wasn't big enough for all of Jill's stuff, so we had to make several trips. We were done by eleven. Terrence and I headed to an early lunch. While we had worked out this morning, we had heard that there was a pick-up basketball game at lunchtime. We joined in. I wasn't very good at basketball, but it felt good to get out and run.

At 1:30, Terrence and I were at Sandy's office. She grabbed her clipboard and announced, "Let's go visit Michael."

I wanted to facepalm when Sandy announced that we would be moving Michael to the new building. Michael was only about five years older than us and was black like Terrence, so we were soon cutting up as we helped him move. While the three of us were heading over to the new building, Terrence asked Michael, "So what's the deal? This is the third move we've done in two days."

"Didn't they tell you about the move?"

Terrence said, "Not really. Sandy acted like each move was a one-time thing, but she looked at a big list each time before announcing who we were going to help move."

Michael quietly snickered. "Well, this is your introduction to corporate politics then. The corporate rules are that when there's a move, Building Services can handle the move or the employees can move themselves. When Marketing asked Building Services how much the move was going to cost, Building Services quoted some huge number. And everyone in Marketing couldn't use their office for a whole week. That didn't go over well with the powers-that-be in Marketing. They also didn't want the people in Marketing to spend a lot of time moving themselves. So someone came up with the idea of hiring two big, strong interns for the summer to do most of the moving."

I said, "You're shitting me. They hired us to be movers? They're paying us twice the minimum wage."

Michael shrugged. "Still cheaper than hiring Building Services. And I'm not kicked out of my office for a week. You have to be in Marketing to do the moving per the corporate rules, and the only temps we hire are summer interns. Be glad you're getting paid well to be movers."

I asked, "Couldn't they give us some real work in addition to moving?"

"If I gave you some real work to do, I'd have to train you on how to do it. Then, I wouldn't be sure how much time you'd have to work on it. That's a bad combination as I'm always under a time crunch. At some point, I'll need to make twenty binders full of marketing material for my new campaign, and I'll use your help on assembling the binders. But don't expect anything else from me."

Terrence asked, "How many people are in Marketing?"

Michael looked thoughtful for a moment. "Around 140."

I did the math. At two moves a day, five days a week, that was the whole summer.

* * * *

I was not in the best of moods when I got home. I opened the door, and Karen was in the entrance hallway waiting for me. She had a big smirk on her face, was wearing running shorts and...I had never seen anything like it before.

"How do you like my new crochet design?" It was like a Victoria's Secret bra made out of green yarn. There was a dense band of stitches around the bottom that rose up to make cups to cover Karen's tits. Above that, the top had little square holes, which permitted inviting peeks at the top of Karen's tits and her chest. Eventually, two strings rose up from the stitches and went around Karen's neck. I was drawn to admire the gorgeous workmanship, which meant I was staring at my sister's tits.

Karen puffed out her chest and moved it from side to side. My eyes followed. It was almost hypnotic. She said, "A little more interesting than a scarf or hat? Not something Agnes or Edna would want to make, don't you agree?"

I didn't answer; I was too mesmerized. The top plus my sister's great body was stunning. Because my sister was so short and also thin, her good-sized tits looked huge on her. I stared intently at the top. Karen put one hand behind her head to enhance the view. The top shifted noticeably as she did so, and my eyes followed every subtle movement. She said, "Not something appropriate for a ten-year-old, don't you think?" When I didn't answer, she switched the hand behind her head. "I'm going to sell this online instead of at a craft fair." I had never seen anything so sexy in my life.

Finally, I realized what I was doing and pulled myself together. "That's nice, Karen. Different. Though I think I'd prefer a hat."

I moved past my sister towards the kitchen. I had to stop looking at her. My heart was pounding, and my cock was hard. As I made my way to the menu, I heard Karen going upstairs. I breathed a sigh of relief and looked at what I was going to make for dinner.

Karen didn't come down until dinnertime. All through dinner, she was in a great mood. She knew she had rattled me and was savoring winning this round. I did my best to act unperturbed. I wasn't talkative at dinner as I didn't want to talk about my day. Mom seemed to enjoy the quiet meal. Once it was over, I went up to my room and read all evening. Or tried to read - I took frequent breaks to picture how great Karen had looked in that top.

* * * *

The next morning, Wednesday, I was the first one to our cube. When Terrence came in, I asked, "You ready to go work out?"

He laughed. "Might as well. We've got nothing else to do."

As we walked towards the health center, I said, "I was really bummed yesterday when we found out that we were hired as movers instead of marketing interns. Now, while I'm not thrilled with it, I'm okay with it."

"We're getting paid well to work out and play pick-up hoops."

I smiled. "We are. And it'll still say 'Marketing Intern' on my resume. I'll just have to lie like crazy about what I actually did."

"Buzzwords, baby. Buzzwords."

* * * *

Karen was waiting for me when I got home, this time in a crochet top that had thin horizontal stripes of dark purple, light purple, pink, and orange. How much her tits distorted the stripes gave the top a very sexy look. From the top of her boobs and up, the stitching changed to a series of open gray circles which showed off a lot of boob and chest skin. Beautiful workmanship and dazzling colors on a very hot body made for a stunning look. Again, I was mesmerized as Karen taunted me while modeling the top. I was a little more aware of her total body this time and noticed that she was wearing gray running shorts to match her top.

This time, I pulled myself together a lot faster. "You've made your point, Karen. That's not something a little old lady is going to make. I'm sorry I made fun of you doing craft projects this summer. You don't need to show me any more tops."

Karen laughed. "But I like to! I enjoy showing off my craft projects."

"Show them off to Mom."

"Mom would not approve of this craft project. She's so conservative with me. She lectures me all the time on the importance of waiting for the right guy." As Karen talked, my eyes drifted back to her top. She looked so hot in it that my eyes naturally did so. "She didn't like me dating Jonathan. If she found out I'm taking birth control pills, she'd blow up."

"You're taking birth control pills?"

"Yeah. As soon as I turned eighteen, I got a prescription. Consider it an act of rebellion. Yes, Miss Goody Two-Shoes is ready to have sex and doesn't plan to wait until her wedding day." Karen noticed where my eyes were. "And tell me you don't like seeing me in this top."

I pulled my eyes away and shook my head. "You've made your point, Karen. I don't need to see more."

* * * *

Thursday, I had a plan for what to do if Karen was wearing another sexy crochet top. It was a stupid plan, but telling her that I didn't want to see more sexy crochet tops hadn't seemed to deter her in the least. I wore to work pants that had very deep front pockets, and I was carrying a little surprise in those pockets that I hoped I wouldn't have to pull out.

When I entered the house, Karen was waiting for me, this time in a dark blue crochet halter top that looked great with her blue eyes and blond hair. It showed off her great abs. Karen immediately started modeling the top as I approached her. "What do you think of this top? The stitching isn't as dense so you can see more skin through the stitches." I could make out her light skin through the top. Were those her nipples I could see?

"Karen, I don't need to see this."

"You're right. But I'm enjoying showing you these tops so much."

As I walked towards Karen, I said, "My words aren't getting through to you." I had decided to go ahead with my plan to get the message across. Hopefully, she'd take it as me having fun with her, much as she was having fun with me.

Karen was standing in the entryway. To her left was a small table against the wall. Above the table were the balusters of the stairs that led up to the second floor. The table was four feet wide, two feet deep, and at Karen's waist level. I grabbed her left arm as I pulled the leather handcuffs from the Fifty Shades bondage set out of my pocket. The two handcuffs were connected by a 9" chain. I put one handcuff on her wrist and then secured the other handcuff around a baluster. Karen didn't provide any resistance; probably too stunned by my unexpected action. I grabbed her right arm and secured her right wrist to another baluster with the pair of ankle cuffs. The ankle cuff on her wrist was pretty loose, and I'd guess she could pull her hand out of it if she really tried. Karen was now partially bent over the table, facing the stairs. She looked back at me, her eyes big with confusion.

I wouldn't have done this if I hadn't known she was a huge Fifty Shades fan, and if she hadn't told me her safe word. If she uttered the word "Yarn", I would stop. Or if she simply said, "Stop it, Mark." But she didn't.

I stepped to her left and positioned myself to spank her bottom. "Don't" - a gentle spank - "tease" - another spank - "your brother" - another spank - "with sexy" - last spank - "tops".

Karen didn't say a word while I spanked her. She didn't make a sound. I hadn't spanked her hard enough to hurt her; just five gentle swats to deliver a message. She had looked at me in amazement the whole time.

I released her from the cuffs and said, "Go upstairs and put on something decent." Karen gave me another stunned look before racing up the stairs. I removed the cuffs from the balusters, put them in my pockets, and went into the kitchen to see what was on the menu.

* * * *

As the evening progressed, I felt worse and worse about what I had done. Karen didn't come down until it was time for dinner, and then she kept her eyes down the whole time we ate. As soon as she was done eating, she went upstairs. I felt it best to leave her alone, so I stayed downstairs. Mom watched TV in the evenings, primarily the Hallmark Channel. Normally, I bolted as soon as a Hallmark movie started as I couldn't handle the treacle, but I felt like it was a deserved punishment for spanking my sister.

Friday evening, Karen wasn't waiting for me when I got home. She stayed upstairs until dinnertime and again kept her eyes down throughout the meal and retreated upstairs once she was done. I felt miserable. I went to a store that sells high-end cupcakes and bought one. I carried it upstairs without Mom noticing. I wrote "I'm sorry" across the box top, set the box next to the door to Karen's bedroom, knocked on the door, and then headed downstairs.

* * * *

I spent Saturday morning pulling weeds and other yard work. Normally, Dad had to practically threaten me to get me to do yard work, but I felt the need to do penance. There wasn't anything I could do directly for Karen to make up for spanking her, but I could make the house look more attractive for the whole family.

When I decided to call it quits on the yard, I went upstairs to take a shower. When I entered my room, I noticed on my bedside table a box of a dozen, fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies from a grocery store. Chocolate chip was my favorite type of cookie. On top of the box was a note in Karen's handwriting. "You did nothing to feel sorry about." I felt much more at ease after that.

* * * *

Karen was a little withdrawn the rest of the weekend, but not too much. Monday, she wasn't waiting for me when I got home from work, but she did join me in the kitchen shortly after I got home. I told her about how I had been hired to be a mover. "I was upset at first, but I'm enjoying it now. I enjoy working out with Terrence; I enjoy talking with people as we move them, discussing the mementos they have in their office; I enjoy playing pick-up basketball; and I enjoy getting paid to play games on my phone at the end of the day. It's a pretty sweet job."

* * * *

Wednesday night, there was a knock on my bedroom door. "Come in!"

Karen opened the door but didn't come into the room. "Would you please give me all your bondage stuff?"

Huh? "Why do you want my bondage stuff?"

"Well, I'd feel better if I had the cuffs, if you know what I mean."

That did make sense. I could see her wanting me to not be able to physically restrain her again. "Okay."

"And you're not going to use the rest of the stuff, are you?"

"No, I'm not." Then I had a thought. "Are you?"

Karen laughed. "Who knows what Miss Goody Two-Shoes might do one day?"

"Okay. I've got it all in a very secret spot. I'll bring it over in a little bit."

"Great."

* * * *

Thursday evening when I got home from work, I was in a really good mood. Terrence and I had started asking the people we were moving silly marketing questions like 'Are remote controls the wave of the future for high-end toilets?' The questions worked great as an icebreaker, and the person being moved usually told us how they'd go about figuring out the right answer to our question. Today, we had moved a guy who had spent the time after we had moved him to tell us stories about bad marketing campaigns he had seen. My favorite had been the print ad campaign that had happened so a VP could see the image of his girlfriend in lots of different magazines.

When I walked into the house, Karen was waiting for me. She was wearing royal blue running shorts and the sexiest crochet top yet. She said, "Look at the design I came up with this week. What do you think?"

The bottom of her top was a royal blue band of dense stitches. The very top was a piece of yarn that ran down from Karen's neck to the top of a dark brown, wooden ring on each side. The bottom of each ring was enmeshed in the crochet band. The rings seemed to circle the base of Karen's tits. There was a narrow band of crochet from the top of each ring down to the band. The narrow band covered her areola and not much more. A huge amount of boob flesh was exposed. And my sister had a lot of it to expose.

I walked towards her confused. "Karen, we talked about this. You weren't supposed to do this anymore."

Karen suddenly brought her hands up in front of her and started cowering. "Please don't yell at me."

"I didn't yell at you." I hadn't even mildly raised my voice.

"Please don't get angry at me," she said like she was frightened. Why would she be frightened? What the hell was going on?

"I'm not angry at you."

"Please don't tie me up and spank me."

What? How would I tie her up? I was very, very confused. None of this made sense. Then I noticed on the entryway table were the handcuffs, the ankle cuffs, and the book I was reading.

Karen said as she continued to cower, "Please don't spank me again. That was so humiliating."

Then suddenly it clicked - what Karen was telling me not to do was what she wanted me to do. She wanted me to yell at her, to be angry at her, to secure her to the balusters again, and to spank her. She had gotten the cuffs from me last night and put them out on the table with the intention that I'd use them on her again. It was the only explanation.
That was crazy. That was stupid.

"Karen." I tried to think of something to say. "Why--"

Karen cowered even more. "I thought you'd like this top."

I was speechless. I was befuddled. Karen's cowering and begging made me feel very uncomfortable.

Karen whimpered, "Please don't spank me again."

Fuck it. If spanking her would get her to stop, I'd spank her. And why not? She had let me spank her last week. Who was I to not play along with her this week?

Still, I couldn't bring myself to yell at Karen. Instead, I said firmly, "Karen, you've been a very bad girl."

"Please don't be angry with me."

"Good girls like you shouldn't dress up like that for the brothers. You know that, don't you?" Karen nodded her head as she continued to fake cower in front of the table. I stepped closer to her. "And you know what happens to bad girls, don't you?"

"Please don't spank me. Please don't."

This was so surreal. There was no point in Karen asking me to not spank her because if she didn't want to be spanked, all she had to do was walk away. I could only spank her if she let me, but why would she let me spank her? Was this a Fifty Shades thing?

I had reached Karen now. I took the handcuffs off the table, gently grabbed her arm, secured her wrist, and secured the other end to the balustrade. She offered no resistance.

"Please don't spank me, Mark. I'm your sister. This is so embarrassing."

"You shouldn't have been bad, Karen." I took the ankle cuffs. "You need to be taught a lesson." I grabbed her left arm. "You'll be a good girl after I give you this lesson, won't you?" I secured her left wrist and then secured the other end to a balustrade. Karen was once again slightly bent over the table, facing away from me.

I had to admit there was something deeply erotic about what we were doing. At least for me. I couldn't imagine it being so for Karen, but why else would she be having me do this?

Karen said, "I promise to be good from now on. You won't spank me, will you?"

I moved into spanking position. "It's a little late for that promise. You've been a bad girl and deserve to be spanked. I didn't spank you hard last week, but I'm going to spank you hard this time."

"No, Mark. Please God, no! I'm your little sister!" As she said that, she wiggled her butt, making it a very tempting target. My sister had a great ass, small with just a hint of curves.

I swatted Karen gently. "That hurt, didn't it?"

"Yes, it did. Please stop, Mark!" She wiggled her butt again. I almost laughed.

I swatted her bottom again, saying "Pow!" as I struck.

"That hurts so much, Mark!"

I swatted her two more times, and after each time Karen wiggled her butt at me. It was goofy, silly fun now.

I said, "I'm really going to spank you hard this time. You're not going to be able to sit down for a week after this spanking." I spanked her a little harder, but not much.

I inadvertently left my hand on her butt after the last swat. When Karen wiggled her butt, my hand slid back and forth across her butt cheeks.

"Now you're groping me! This is so humiliating, Mark." She pushed her butt more firmly into my hand and wiggled it some more.

Again, I suppressed the urge to laugh. This was so crazy. Why would she want me to feel her butt?

I said, "Well, spanking alone wasn't a good enough lesson. Maybe me getting some cheap feels will teach you to be a good girl."

I gave her butt a good squeeze and then released the cuffs from the balustrade. Karen raced upstairs with the cuffs still attached to her wrists.

I chuckled. Whatever. Karen played along with me last week, so I played along with her this week. I went into the kitchen to see what was on the menu. Once I read the directions for tonight's casserole, I set a timer for when I was to put it in the oven and then sat down in the living room with my book.

* * * *

I was getting concerned about Karen as she stayed upstairs until dinner was ready. When she came down, she was all smiles so I relaxed. Over dinner, we traded our usual barbs, but the delivery was more of a gentle tease now. I kept an eye on Mom to see if she noticed the more light-heartedness to our barbs. She was sighing and rolling her eyes, exasperated as always that her kids didn't get along.

When Karen was done eating dinner, she said to Mom, "I'm going to make some cookies."

"What type?" I asked.

"None of your business. They're not for you." She turned back to Mom. "I'm going over to Gwen's tomorrow and thought I'd bring some along."

"Karen," said Mom in her long-suffering voice. She said slowly, "If you make cookies, you should give some to your brother. It'd be rude not to."

"Do I have to?" Karen asked with a hint of a whine.

"Yes, you do," Mom said slowly and firmly.

My sister sighed and went into the kitchen. Mom fled to the living room and the emotional warmth of the Hallmark Channel. I asked Karen, "Do you want any help?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm going to make chocolate chip cookies. It's the type my friends will like." And then she winked at me.

I got my book and read at the dining room table. When the first batch of cookies was done, Karen brought me a big plate full and a glass of milk. She gave me a big smile and said, "Do you want more cookies?"

I smiled back. "No. This is perfect."

I shook my head. My sister was such a nut case. Whatever. As long as she was happy, I wasn't going to worry about what we had done.

* * * *

Things returned to normal. Karen had had her one evening of craziness and then went back to being my normal, annoying little sister.

Until the next Thursday. When I walked in the door, I smelled something freshly baked bread. Karen was standing next to the entryway table in another sexy crochet top. We played her game just like we had the week before, though this time I did manage to raise my voice more, and it went on a little longer. And after dinner, Karen served me up a big slice of chocolate cake.

The Thursday after that, I came home to Karen in yet another sexy crochet top, but the cuffs weren't on the entryway table. After I "got angry", Karen ran into the dining room, where the handcuffs were. I spanked her with her hands secured behind her back while she lay across the dining room table. That was the longest and hottest yet.

After dinner, as I ate cookies again, I said to Karen, "You know what I want more than your yummy desserts?"

"What?"

We were standing side-by-side in the kitchen, leaning over the counter. Mom was watching the Hallmark Channel in the living room. Karen and I talked quietly, conspiratorially. "I'm sick of the same old casseroles. Totally sick of them. I've thought about trying to make my own from scratch, but I don't know the first thing about cooking. You do. If you could make one casserole a week, it'd be wonderful." Karen looked thoughtful, so I added. "Look, I'll do anything to help - get out ingredients, go to the store. You name it, I'll do it."

"Let me think on it." Karen looked thoughtful for a while and then said, "You know, I have a fairly high pain tolerance." She said that with the air of this is something I've been meaning to bring up and now seems an appropriate time.

"You have a high pain tolerance?" I didn't understand her point.

"Yeah. And I think with female runners, guys tend to baby us. I'm not made of china. I know how to shrug off pain. I think guys working out with female runners are too concerned about not hurting them and don't push them hard enough."

I struggled to understand what my sister was saying. Why would she talk to me about guys training female runners? I didn't train female runners. I had nothing to do with her running. What she was saying made no sense.

Suddenly it hit me - was she talking about the game? We had never discussed it. Was she talking about training because she didn't want to talk directly about the game? Possibly. What would having a high pain tolerance mean then? Suddenly, I had it - she was saying that she wanted me to spank her harder, that she could handle the pain of me spanking her harder. It was the only part of the game where she experienced pain.

Why would someone ask to be spanked harder? I looked at Karen. Her patient expression gave me no clues. I had the feeling she was offering me a quid pro quo, that if I agreed to spank her harder then she'd start making the occasional casserole. It made no sense to me, but then again I didn't see what she got out of the game.

Everything about the game was something I struggled with. I knew we shouldn't be doing it. If Mom came home early and caught us in the middle of one of our sessions...I couldn't even imagine how ballistic she'd go. Thinking the littlest bit about her catching us gave me the willies. The game was also something I knew I'd never be able to discuss with anyone. Hey, Terrence. Have you ever handcuffed your sister, spanked her, and then taken advantage of her? People would think I was some creepy pervert if they knew I had played the game with a girlfriend. With my sister? Forget it.

And yet, my relationship with Karen had improved so much since we started the game. We were getting along better than we ever had. Once a week, Karen wanted to step out of her YA life and cut loose by playing a silly game with a lot of sexual overtones. The other 99.9% of the time, we were a normal brother and sister. I wasn't going to tell her she couldn't have fun the way she wanted to. I played the game the way I thought she wanted me to, and I had fun doing so. If she chose to have me spank her harder, I'd go along with her choice.

I said, "When I work out next with a female runner, I'll go hard and let her tell me if I need to back off."

Karen smiled. "Perfect."

* * * *

Saturday when I was about to leave to go get Grandma, Karen told me she'd be going with me. "I talked with her last night, and this weekend is going to be a little different." Karen normally spent Saturday morning with some crafting friends. On the ride over, Karen only smiled and changed the subject when I asked her why she was going with me. I told her about a woman I had been flirting with at work. As she was several years older than me, I didn't expect to get anywhere with her, but she was the only romantic option I had at the moment.

When I arrived at Grandma's apartment, I got the first inkling of what was up. After Grandma hugged me and Karen, she happily told me, "Karen asked me to teach her a few of my favorite recipes this weekend." Grandma had several boxes for us to take to our house, but the first run to the car was to haul a four-foot rolling pin and a large, thin, rectangular wooden board.

We stopped at a local chain grocery store on the way back to our house. Grandma said to me, "Get me a grocery cart. It's easier for me to walk if I have something to lean on." I got her a cart, and we walked slowly through the parking lot and eventually to the produce section. The whole time, Karen talked about her latest crafting achievements with Grandma. I was quite content to just listen in.

Once we were in the produce section, Karen handed me her tablet. "Video everything Grandma says. I'll take notes, but I think it'd be best if you video it as well." Grandma then started walking slowly through the produce section, telling Karen what to look for in different vegetables. Karen furiously scribbled notes, but there was no way she could keep up with the deluge of knowledge. And a lot of it was about the proper color of a ripe, flavorful vegetable, which Karen wouldn't be able to capture on paper.

We moved on to the cheese department. Grandma emphasized the importance of buying cheese made in Italy. She talked about the relative quality of different brands of cheese and lamented that the store no longer carried a couple of brands. A woman around Grandma's age showed up and got into a spirited debate with Grandma about the merits of different brands. When I was beginning to think that I was going to have to physically separate them, the other woman stormed away, cursing Grandma in Italian while waving her arms.

We slowly made our way to the meat department, where Grandma delivered another master lecture. It was way too much for me to absorb, but somehow Karen followed it well enough to regularly ask questions. Grandma complained constantly about the cost of meat before putting some pork, chicken, and beef into our cart, all of which had bones and were marked way down. Then Grandma took us over to the baking and spice aisle and talked some more. Our grocery cart steadily filled up with supplies. I enjoyed listening to this far more than the usual retirement center gossip.

We drove home, and I brought everything in as Grandma greeted Mom and Dad. Once I had everything in the kitchen, Grandma and Karen started cooking while I videoed. The first thing was cooking the meat. We placed the pieces in a couple of frying pans, added some water, covered them, and let them cook. Grandma then had an involved discussion with Karen on the proper proportions of meat, egg, and flour. Once the meat was cooked to Grandma's satisfaction, she wielded a knife like a ninja to remove the bones from a couple of pieces of meat. Then she gave the knife to Karen for her to do the same. I kept my distance while videoing that part.

Grandma kept talking non-stop, and Karen did her best to take notes. The only cooking job I felt comfortable doing was grinding the meat in a hand-crank meat grinder that Grandma had brought. While the meat was cooling in the refrigerator, Grandma taught Karen how to make fresh pasta. After Karen had kneaded the pasta dough for a while, Grandma had me take a turn. I quickly decided I had a future in instructional videos - "And now Mark will demonstrate all of the common mistakes."

When the pasta was ready, and the meat was cool enough, Grandma said, "It's time to make cappellettis." She said that last word like she was speaking Italian. She put a little bit of meat mixture in the center of a pasta square, did some magic with her fingers, and made a shape that looked like a little hat. Karen quickly picked up how to make them.

Grandma said, "Mark, it's now your turn to try."

"Grandma, if I tried that, I'd just toss pasta and meat all over the kitchen."

Karen laughed.

That night for dinner, Grandma coached Karen through making cappellettis with mushrooms in a white wine sauce. It was to freaking die for.

Sunday, Grandma taught Karen how to make fresh fettuccine. I cranked the handle on the pasta machine. We had fettuccine alfredo for lunch, and, God, it was delicious. Then Grandma taught Karen how to make pepper cookies, which have lots of different spices in them. They blew chocolate chip cookies out of the water.

Then it was time for me to take Grandma to Sunday evening mass. When I started to box up the items Grandma had brought, she said, "Don't. Leave them here."

"Why?"

"They only take up space in my apartment. I don't have a kitchen."

"Oh."

Karen went with us on the drive to church, and she reviewed her notes with Grandma the whole time. I had never had a more enjoyable weekend with Grandma. After Grandma hugged us, she said, "That was a very, very good weekend."

* * * *

Wednesday evening, I was reading on the bed in the craft room. Karen had made cappellettis for dinner, and I had gorged myself on their awesomeness. In the evenings when I was home, I had taken to coming to the craft room to read. I'd take breaks from reading to tell Karen about what I had just read. She'd take breaks from her crafting to show off what she was working on. And tonight, there was a happy anticipation of what we'd do tomorrow when I got home from work.

As much as I enjoyed playing the game with Karen, it was sexually frustrating for me. The game was hot as hell and would always leave me close to exploding but masturbating later was such a letdown. I was toying with an idea for solving that, but I wasn't sure if I really wanted to take that step. What would Karen think? Did I really want to do that with my sister? It'd make the game ten times more perverted. I knew I shouldn't do it, but I so wanted to do it.

Karen held up one of the royal blue crochet tops she had looked so incredible in a few weeks ago. "All ready to be shipped."

"To a happy customer?"

"I hope so." She stood up and went over to where she kept her shipping boxes. "The crochet tops have been good sellers, but I think I've hit the saturation point with new designs. I'm finalizing one new design, and then I'm going to focus on developing designs for other things." I nodded. I took that to mean a new crochet top tomorrow and no more after that. "I had only three designs done when I showed you the first one, and I hadn't intended to do anymore." Karen smiled at me. "But then I was inspired to create a few more."

It took a few moments for what she had said to sink in. Was that Thursday going to be the last time she was going to model a crochet top for me? And if I had done nothing, she would have stopped on her own? I shook my head. I didn't know how I felt about that.

Karen added. "I wish I could hire a professional model to model my crochet tops. I think they'd sell a lot better if people could see them on a real person." She pointed to a plastic bust she had in the room. "I've been using pictures of them on her for my catalog."

"Why don't you use pictures of yourself wearing them?"

"I don't want any pictures of me on the Internet," Karen said indignantly. "And certainly not of me wearing my crochet tops. If Mom saw a picture of me wearing one of my tops, she'd probably have a heart attack. And I don't want guys I don't know ogling me."

But she was fine with her brother ogling her. "Do you have any pictures of you wearing your designs?"

"No." Karen sounded slightly embarrassed.

"I'll take a picture of you wearing one."

She shook her head. "I don't want you to have a picture of me wearing one of my crochet tops."

"How are you going to know how much better they'd look on a model if you don't have some pictures of a real person wearing at least one?" That seemed to have Karen on the verge of agreeing. "Look, give me your phone, and I'll take a picture of you wearing one of your crochet tops. If you don't like it, you can delete it."

Karen gave me a small smile. "Well, okay. Let's go to my room."

We went over to her bedroom. Karen closed and locked the door after us. She handed me her phone and said, "Turn around."

I turned around. I heard some rustling of clothes, a drawer open then close, and some more rustling.

Karen said, "Okay, you can turn around."

Karen was wearing the green top she had modeled for me the very first time. I lifted her phone up, zoomed in a little so that only her top half was in the picture, and said, "Smile." Karen smiled, and I took the picture. I pulled up the picture in the photo gallery and showed it to Karen.

Karen said disappointedly, "I wouldn't sell a lot of these tops."

"I didn't take a very good picture of you. Let me try again."

Karen gave me a really? look. "Oh, okay."

Karen made the same pose and the same smile. I knew that if I took that picture, it would be the same as the first one. I said, "Put one hand behind your head."

"What?"

"I said, 'Put one hand behind your head'. You know how to look sexier than that." I thought about referencing how she'd model her tops for me when we were playing the game but decided against it.

Karen put her right hand behind her head with her elbow at a 45-degree angle from her body. "Like this?"

"Like that." I took a picture. "Now rotate your elbow more to the right." Karen did. Because of her small size, Karen's tits looked huge, and the green top did a great job of presenting them. "Much sexier." I took another picture. "Tilt your head back a little." Her blond hair was now behind her back, giving an unobstructed view of her chest. Click. "Turn a little to your left." Click.
It was like one of those photoshoot commercials, except my sister was the sexy model. And she did look sexy. Fit, thin, curvy, sexily dressed; she was the complete package. "Now, put both hands behind your head."

"Like this?" said with a small smile of joy. She was getting into the picture shoot now.

Click. "Oh yeah. Now spread your elbows wider." Click. "Really thrust out your chest." Click. "You look so hot." She did. Her smile now was natural, not forced like it was earlier. Now she was looking like a professional model. "Let me take some shots from lower down." Click. Karen rotated a little to her left to give me a different angle. Click. She tilted her head back some to really thrust out her tits. Click. A flush of sexual excitement was forming on her cheeks. I said, "You look amazing in that top." Her smile got bigger. Click.

I continued taking pictures of her from different angles. Then I had her pose sitting in a chair, facing away from her desk. Then I took pictures of her sprawled on her bed. She looked so sexy. I was so hard. Again, the problem of my sexual frustration came to a head, so to speak. I took a few more pictures and then stopped. As I handed Karen her phone, I said, "That should give you some ideas of how your top would look on a model."

I went to my bedroom, locked the door, stripped naked, and pulled up some porn. I skimmed video after video. Nothing was really appealing to me. I finally got off to two mostly naked cheerleaders fucking their "step-brother".

I thought again about taking the next step. I decided to wait and see how things went tomorrow before actually deciding.

* * * *

When I stepped through the door, I was struck by the smell of something baking. Cake? I closed the door and turned to see Karen. She was wearing what looked like a bright red, crochet tube top, red terry cloth short shorts that I knew barely covered her ass, and red high heels that she had to have borrowed from Mom. Karen never wore high heels. I looked closer at the crochet top and noticed that between her boobs was a zipper that was partially pulled down. The slider had a big brass ring that'd be easy to slip my finger through. One pull and she'd be topless...

Karen looked amazingly hot. I wanted to smile, to whistle my appreciation of how she looked, but that would be breaking character. Instead, I frowned as I walked towards Karen, stopping a little short of the table in the entryway.

Karen slowly turned in front of me, giving me a full view of her top. She moved a little awkwardly, not used to wearing high heels. I noticed that she was wearing makeup. Not a lot, but I'd never seen her wear makeup before. When her back was turned to me, I was tempted to reach out and squeeze her cute little ass, but that wasn't what we were doing right now.

When Karen was facing me again, she turned slightly and stuck out her chest. "What do you think big brother? Does your sister know how to design incredible crochet tops or what?"

I let her model the top a little longer. She did look incredible in it. And what made it even hotter was that I knew she had designed and made it especially to wear for me this afternoon.

"Karen!" I yelled suddenly. "How many times have I told you to stop dressing like a slut around me?"

Karen immediately cowered. I checked the entry table to see what was there - just my book. Karen planned to run off at some point to where the cuffs were.

I moved next to her and did my best to tower over her. "You're a bad girl, Karen. You know you shouldn't dress like this. What if Mom saw you dressed like this?"

"Don't be angry with me, Mark," Karen said with a tremor of fear in her voice. "I thought you'd like it."

"You wanted me to like it! You wanted to sexually excite your own brother! That's sick, Karen. You need to stop that right now!"

It was so bizarre. I wasn't the least bit angry, but, in playing angry, I was getting the same emotional and chemical rush I would if I was really angry.

"I'm sorry, Mark." Karen turned to run away, but I grabbed her arm before she could take a step.

"You're not running away this time, Karen. I'm going to punish you right here, right now."

Karen looked back at me fearfully and in shock. This was different than what she had planned for the day. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a wrist cuff from my pocket. "I'm going to tie you up and spank you right here, Karen."

I had decided to buy two pairs of handcuffs. We used cuffs every week now, the ankle cuffs didn't work well when we used them, and I thought I'd get something that was of better quality and more comfortable. I had another surprise in the other pocket but hadn't made up my mind to use it or not.

"Please don't spank me, Mark. I'm your little sister. You shouldn't spank your sister."

I had her right wrist cuffed and pulled the other end towards the baluster. As usual, Karen offered no resistance.

"You're right. I shouldn't spank my sister. But my sister shouldn't dress like a tramp and show off her sexy body to me when I get home from work." I never called Karen a tramp, whore or slut. I respected her too much to say anything more than she was dressed like one. I grabbed Karen's left hand and cuffed it.

"This is so embarrassing, Mark. I'm eighteen! I'm an adult! I'm too old to be spanked."

I secured Karen's left arm to a baluster and then arranged my cock. I was so hard. Playing the game always did that to me.

"I've gone easy on you in the past, Karen; I didn't spank you hard. But not this time. This time, I'm serious. Each swat is going to hurt. Hopefully this time, you'll learn something." Karen quaked with fear but made no attempt to get away. Instead, she braced herself for the first spank. I positioned myself to Karen's left, pulled my arm back, and then swung hard. I spanked her much harder than ever before. I hoped it wasn't too hard. I aimed to make her bottom red, but not to leave a bruise. Her terry cloth shorts should absorb some of the blow.

"Oh, God," Karen cried. "Stop! Please, stop! I'll be good from now on."

"I don't think you've learned your lesson yet." I swatted Karen's bottom again. I wasn't getting any sign that I had spanked her too hard. My cock was uncomfortably hard in my jeans. I adjusted it again.

"No more, Mark! No more!" Then Karen wiggled her butt to egg me on. I gave her another swat. "I can't believe you're being so mean to your sister!" Another swat.

This time, I held my hand on Karen's butt and moved it around slightly. Karen didn't wiggle her ass like she did the first time. Instead, she subtly pressed her butt into my hand as it traversed her entire bottom.

"You aren't wearing any panties!" I said in mock surprise. Karen had stopped wearing panties for our game after our first session.

"Please, Mark, let me go! I'll be good from now on."

I rubbed my hand slowly over her butt. "Does that hurt? Does that sting?" I hoped it didn't. Asking was an excuse for me to feel all of my sister's ass.

"It does, Mark! Please stop! Please, please stop!"

I moved my hand up and slid them inside her shorts. "Is this what you really wanted? Me to run my hand over your bare ass?"

"No, Mark! I didn't want this at all!" Then Karen pressed her ass more firmly into my hand. I gave her ass a couple of gentle squeezes. God, I loved my sister's butt. My cock felt like it was about to burst through my jeans.

I said menacingly, "You know what I'm going to do? You know what I'm going to do to teach you a lesson?"

"No, Mark. Nothing more!"

"I'm going to spank your naked bottom." I grabbed Karen's shorts and pulled them all the way down. Karen then stepped out of them. Last week, I had come up with the idea of giving the last swat on her naked bottom, and she had seemed to love it.

I resumed my spanking position and stopped to admire my sister's ass. There were pink spots, but not bright pink. She had a model-quality ass. She was wiggling it slowly back and forth, egging on what we both knew would be the final swat. Whatever pain my spanks had caused, Karen seemed to shrug off.

"This one's going hurt, Karen."

"Don't, Mark! You've spanked me enough!"

I grinned wickedly as I spanked her gorgeous bottom one last time. I was glad to be done with that and now do strictly fun things. I slid my right hand to Karen's right side and then slid it upward. At the same time, I moved next to her and began sliding my left hand along her left side. Her skin felt so smooth. All she had on was her small crochet top and the high heels.

Last week was the first time I had run my hands over her body. It was also the first time she had refused to go along with what I wanted to do. When I had moved one hand towards her bare pussy, Karen had sharply said "No!" and had suddenly thrust her body to throw my hand off her.

Now, I'd keep away from her pussy. I rubbed my hands over the front of her shoulders. As she was bent forward over the table, I bent forward with her until my mouth was next to her left ear. "Are you going to be a good girl from now on?" I asked tauntingly.

"I'll be good. I promise!"

I smiled as I continued to let my hands roam over the top of her chest. I thought she was going to be very good, but not in the way she implied.

Karen said, "Please don't pull down the zipper on my top. It'll come off if you do." The tone of her voice half-begged me to not do it and half-begged me to do it.

I slid my right hand to the center of her chest and then slowly downward.

"Stop, Mark!" My hand moved more down. "Please don't!" My hand moved down the valley between her tits. "I'm your sister!"

It was easy to catch the large ring with my finger. I pulled it slowly down, and the sound of the zipper seemed to fill the entryway. I used my left hand to steady the top while I pulled the zipper completely free.

"Mark! I'll be completely naked!" I could hear the excitement in Karen's voice.

I let go of the top, and it slowly slid down her chest and fell to the floor.

I reached forward and cupped Karen's breasts. She said, "Nooooooo!" which sounded more like a moan to me. Karen's tits felt wonderful in my hands. I knew she wanted me to do this, that she had designed the crochet top so I'd do this. She struggled a little, but not nearly enough to stop me as I gently squeezed her breasts.

"Please stop, Mark. This is so wrong, so awful. A brother should never do this to his sister."

It was wrong. It was awful. But I loved every second of it, and I could tell Karen did too.

We both panted as I continued massaging Karen's boobs. She had stopped struggling and now pressed her body firmly against mine. I wished I could see Karen's face, to hopefully see the pleasure she was experiencing; but she always faced away from me while we played. Instead, I had to use her posture, movements, and breathing to judge how much she was enjoying it. I caught a whiff of pussy wetness. She was as excited as I was.

I had to come. My balls felt like they were ready to explode. And I knew that jerking off to porn later this evening would be completely unsatisfying. I decided to push things even more forward and hoped that Karen would be okay with that.

I released Karen's tits, stood up, and started pulling up my shirt. Karen twisted her head to look back at me. "What are you doing?"

Once I had my shirt off, I said, "Getting naked."

Karen's eyes went wide. Fear? Excitement? A mixture of both? "Mark! You shouldn't get naked with me!"

I lifted my left foot and untied my shoe. "I'm going to teach you a lesson, Karen. I tried to tell you that if you continued to tease me, things would go too far. They're going too far today."

Karen looked at me in shock. She said, "Don't, Mark. Don't go too far."

Karen sounded like she was giving me a warning. I wasn't going to have sex with my sister. I suspected she was still a virgin, and I wasn't going to take her virginity. Oral sex with her was out as she always faced away from me. But there was something we could do that was like sex but involved no penetration.

I said, "I'm going to give you one last little lesson. You need to learn to what happens when you tease a guy too much."

Karen didn't know how to react. She watched me indecisively as I stripped off my clothes. Once I was naked, I pulled a small bottle of massage oil out of my pants pocket. I squirted some in my hand, and then I rubbed the oil into the area around Karen's butt crack, starting from above her anus and up to the top.

"Mark, you shouldn't be touching me back there." Karen seemed reassured that I wasn't going to do anything too crazy.

"Hopefully, this is the lesson that'll get my message across."

I squirted some more oil onto my hand and then rubbed the oil up and down my cock. I had read about this in some porn story, and it seemed like the perfect solution.

I placed my cock in the oil-covered portion of Karen's butt crack. I grabbed her hips in my hands and then slid my cock forward. Wow, it felt good! Karen in high heels was a good height for me to do this.

Karen moaned, "Nooooooo!"

I slid my cock back down her ass crack in a faux fucking motion. Her oiled skin felt amazing to my cock. I thrust forward again and let out a big sigh of pleasure. This was awesome. I pulled back again. This was something like fucking, but very different.

The next thrust, Karen slid her ass backward to meet my thrust. "Oh, God!" she moaned. She pulled back as I did, and again she slid her ass backward as I thrust. "This is terrible, Mark." She was panting again. "This is awful. I can't believe you're using me like this. I'm your sister, and you're using me like this."

I paused at the bottom, and Karen somehow squeezed my cock with her butt cheeks. "You're so bad, Karen," I said as I slid forward. "You drive me crazy."

I picked up the pace, and Karen automatically adjusted to match my every thrust. Her head was turned to the side, and I could see that her eyes were closed.

"This is so humiliating, Mark. This is so wrong."

I took one more thrust and then erupted, spewing cum all over my sister's back. I seemed to come forever. Karen kept repeating, "This is so wrong." When I stopped coming, I felt emotionally and physically spent.

I was still panting as I released the handcuffs from the baluster. "Now go upstairs. And I hope you finally learned a lesson!"

Karen kept herself bent over as she slowly walked to the stairs and then climbed them. I went to the guest half-bath and did the best I could to clean myself up. I got some paper towels from the kitchen and cleaned up any cum spots I could find. I then found the handcuffs in the living room and pocketed them. I was glad the house smelt of baking (Karen had made cupcakes) so Mom wouldn't smell the sex.

My heart rate had finally returned to normal by the time I checked the menu.

* * * *

Later that evening, Mom was in the living room. I could hear the they're-about-to-kiss-for-the-first-time music swelling in the distance. Karen and I were standing side-by-side in the kitchen. I frosted a cupcake, removed the wrapper, and lifted it to Karen's mouth. She took a bite and said, "Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm" as she chewed. Then she added, "That was amazing."

I smiled. "You enjoyed it?"

"Very much so. I was very surprised but loved it."

"So you had no idea I was such a great cupcake froster." We both laughed quietly, knowing what she was really talking about. I held out the cupcake for her again, and she took another bite. It felt amazingly intimate to feed her like this.

Karen grabbed a cupcake, took the knife from my hand, frosted the cupcake, and fed me a bite. After that, we alternated feeding each other.

I said, "I'm so glad you made these to take over to Gwen's tomorrow." Karen smiled. We both knew they were really for us to share.

We continued feeding each other until I had finished two cupcakes and Karen one. Without a word, we mutually decided that was enough. I then helped Karen frost the remaining cupcakes for her friends.

I asked, "What if we were to have dessert more often?" Karen froze. "I'd love to frost your cupcakes two or three times a week."

Karen stood there frozen for a while before saying, "I don't want to. I'm very happy with how things are. I..."

She paused for a moment to think of something to say. I asked gently, "Afraid you'll gain weight if you have dessert more often?"

"Yeah. Something like that."

I moved away from the counter. "It's okay. I'm fine with that."

* * * *

The next night after I had dinner at home, I met some people from work at a bar. We talked shop for a while. People had been giving Terrence and me some meaningful work. Nothing big, but still something I could discuss in an interview for a marketing position. At nine, a band started playing Cajun music. I had never given Cajun music a serious listen to before, but I enjoyed listening to the band as well as hanging out with my coworkers. When the band stopped playing for good at eleven, I went home.

When I got to the second floor, I noticed light leaking out from under the door to the craft room. I knocked and went in. I asked Karen, "How was your evening?" as I sat down on the bed.

"Very good. I went over to Gwen's. Several of my crafting friends were there. I told them about how well my crochet tops are selling. They were amazed and very happy for me. It made me feel really good. It gives me a very warm feeling to be successful with my own designs."

"You should be proud of yourself."

"I am. How was your evening?"

I told her about my time at the bar. When I was done, I stood up. "See ya in the morning."

"Could we talk a bit more?"

"Sure." I sat back down.

After a long pause, Karen asked, "Last night, when you asked me for more desserts and I said no, were you really not upset?"

"I was disappointed, but I wasn't angry. It's your choice, Karen. I'm not going to pressure you to do anything you don't want to do." She seemed doubtful. I decided to try to reassure her. "You may be surprised to hear this, but at one time I was a big jerk."

Karen giggled a little bit. Then the giggling turned into a long bout of quiet laughter. Finally, she said, "No, I didn't know that."

I chuckled. "So I went off to college, and my first roommate was also a jerk but we were not compatible in our jerkiness. After a month, we hated each other's guts. We went to the RL and demanded to change roommates."

"RL?"

"Resident Leader. A senior who lived on our dorm floor and enforced the dorm rules."

"And did he arrange a change?"

I shook my head. "He pointed out that I had told everyone that Caleb was the worst roommate in the world, and Caleb had done the same for me."

Karen laughed lightly. "That wasn't smart."

"It wasn't. The RL, Scott, told us that no one was interested in either of us as a roommate. The only option we really had to stop being roommates was for one of us to move out."

"Oof."

"Yeah. And that scumbag Caleb didn't volunteer to move out." I winked at Karen. "Before I could start making plans for murdering Caleb, Scott said he would counsel the two of us for an hour three times a week."

"That's about all he could do, wasn't it?"

I shrugged. "It's not what I wanted to hear. I was having a miserable time at college. I had imagined it would be wall-to-wall casual sex with an occasional break to go to class. It wasn't that way at all."

"How was it then?"

I thought about how to describe it for a moment. "Freshman year in particular, it's a lot like high school with your parents gone on a really long weekend. But in high school, saying I was a starter on the football team was a great pickup line. In college, saying I used to be a starter on a mid-sized high school football team didn't get me anywhere."

Karen smiled. "So you weren't having much luck with girls."
"Practically none." The feeling of frustration came back suddenly. "And in college, they talk constantly about positive consent; enthusiastic consent. There are mandatory talks, videos, and more talks. I would have been thrilled to get some lukewarm consent, but I was getting nothing."

"So life sucked."

I nodded. "Pretty much. I was doing great in my classes; totally miserable outside of my classes. So anyway, Scott counseled Caleb and me. His big theme was that we had to treat each other with respect and consideration; no more badmouthing each other to other students; try to minimize the amount of time we spent together in our dorm room, but be nice when we were together. He had us role-play our disagreements in front of him to teach us how to disagree with respect and consideration."

Karen was following my story closely. "Did that work?"

"Some. One day, a light bulb went off over my head. Positive consent was bullshit. When I was about to get naked with a girl, I shouldn't suddenly start treating her with respect and consideration and not pressure her. I should have been doing that all along. And not just with girls - with anyone I met. Even when I was playing online games." I used to scream insults at team members in online games who weren't playing up to my standards. "After that, I took the counseling sessions with Scott a lot more seriously. Sadly, Caleb continued to be a jerk."

"Oh, that's terrible."

"Sort of. Once I started treating everyone with respect and consideration, I started meeting a lot more girls. And one girl wanted to see if I'd treat her with respect and consideration on a date. And when I did, she wanted to see if I'd treat her with respect and consideration when she had no clothes on. Caleb didn't bother me nearly as much once I was getting laid and he wasn't."

Karen rolled her eyes. "Guys."

"Yeah. Well, Caleb found a jerk who was compatible with his jerkiness. We switched roommates after the Fall semester, and my life improved IMMENSELY." I smiled. My enjoyment of college had really taken off once I had gotten rid of Caleb. "But my point is that I think you're a great person. I respect you. I treat you with consideration...most of the time. And I'm not going to pressure you to do anything you don't want to. I've made you aware of what I want, and the ball is now in your court. But don't do anything you won't enjoy."

Karen seemed a little reassured, but not convinced. I held out my hand a little above my desk. "I used to be focused on doing what I found fun, and it made me this happy." I raised my hand up a foot. "When I focused on doing what was fun for both me and the people I was with, it made me this happy." I put my hand back in my lap. "Doing what we do makes me very happy. I'm fine with that. Okay?" I stood up.

Karen continued to sit, so I sat down. She asked, "Do you know why I don't like parties, football games, movies, and concerts?"

"No."

"I don't like loud environments. They make me uncomfortable. The loudness doesn't bother me too much at first, but, eventually, all I can think about is getting out of there. Even if I want to be there."

"So you wouldn't have enjoyed my evening at the bar."

"No."

"And that's fine. I wish I had known. It used to piss me off so much when you complained about going to my football games. And then you never paid attention when you did go."

"I...I don't think I knew before. I've been thinking a lot about what I want to do at college. I've always been so defensive about not going to parties and such that I didn't give any thought as to why. Once I started thinking seriously about what I wanted to do at college, it kind of clicked about how I don't like loud environments."

"Okay. I promise to not pressure you to go to loud bars or movies, or any other thing that you don't want to do."

I stood up. Karen stood up. She seemed happier, but not totally convinced. She said, "Okay," and left.

* * * *

Sunday night, I went to a movie with Terrence and a few of his friends. When I got home, I talked with Karen in the craft room again. When I was done, I said, "Time for bed."

"Same for me."

Five minutes after I had turned off the light and had gotten into bed, I heard the door to my room open. I looked up to see Karen slip into my room. She put her finger over her lips as she approached my bed. She grabbed her nightshirt and pulled it off. Now, she was naked. I was shocked. Before I could say anything, Karen put her finger to her lips again to shush me. She grabbed my bedding and pulled it down to expose me. She wiggled her hand in the direction of my underwear, so I took it she wanted me to get naked. Once I took my underwear off, Karen climbed onto my bed and made a beeline for my flaccid cock, which she took into her mouth.

I was stunned. I had no inkling she had anything like this planned. She slid her lips up and down my shaft, encouraging my cock to spring to life. Her warm mouth felt great.

Karen was facing away from me, so her hips were to the right of my chest. I raised my right hand and put it on her butt. I was planning on moving it to her pussy and then to get her off while she got me off. In all of our game-playing, I had never seen her orgasm. Karen released my cock, wheeled around, and moved her upraised finger rapidly back and forth in the 'No' signal. Then she turned back and took my half-hard cock back into her mouth.

I decided to lie there and take it. She was in charge, and she'd let me know if she wanted me to do anything. She continued bobbing furiously on my cock. As it hardened, she took less and less of its length into her mouth. She was more enthusiastic than skilled, but I still loved it. Was this the first time she had given head? Waves of pleasure swept over my body as her mouth performed magic on my cock.

I reached out with my right hand and stroked Karen's thigh. That didn't draw a response. I let my hand glide up and down Karen's leg as she took my cock out of her mouth and did a quick lick up and down its full length. Then she swallowed what length she could and began bobbing up and down again.

This was heaven. This was amazing. I loved how my cock felt in her warm, wet mouth. I loved the sensation of her firm lips moving up and down my cock. I had no idea what triggered Karen's visit, but I loved it. I loved my sister.

I shook my head. Love was an inadequate term. I had loved my sister before the start of the summer. My feelings for her now were much different. I felt it was wrong to try to label them, to put them in some box. She made me very happy, and I hoped I did the same for her. That was as much I would define my feelings.

Karen switched to running her tongue up and down my shaft, which I loved. I stroked her skin, enjoying its warmth and smoothness. I was getting close. Should I warn her before I came? I decided against it - she had wanted us to not say anything.

We made surprisingly little sound. A little slurping and rustling, but nothing that our parents would hear. Karen took me back into her mouth again. She slid her warm mouth up and down my cock several times, pushing me to the edge. I decided on a warning sign - I spread my hand as wide as I could and then gripped the back of her thigh. I held it firmly as her amazing mouth made me come. Karen made a gagging sound when I started coating her tonsils, but didn't stop. She kept her mouth on my cock, sucking down what she could until I was drained.

Once I was done coming, Karen climbed off the bed. She threw on her nightshirt, gave me an exaggerated wink, and left the room.

* * * *

Tuesday night, Karen slipped into my room again. She tried a couple of new techniques and didn't gag this time. And again, neither of us spoke.

Wednesday night, I spent the evening hanging out with Karen in her craft room. I read the first Harry Potter book, and we discussed it a lot as I read and she worked.

Thursday when I got home from work, Karen was wearing a bright red bikini top and the same shorts as last week. She ran off to the living room, and I ended up shooting my load all over her back on the couch while she had her face pressed into the couch pillows. A towel had mysteriously been on the coffee table, and I used to clean off her back before sending her upstairs. I had the feeling she didn't want me to go for her tits this time, so I didn't. Karen didn't make a dessert that day, so, after dinner, I fed her some of my ice cream as we conspired in the kitchen.

Saturday, Karen and I picked up Grandma. We went to the grocery store again and then spent the day with Grandma, learning to cook. For dinner, Grandma coached Karen through eggplant parmesan. I had had no idea that a vegetable entree could taste so damn good or be so filling. Suddenly, being a vegetarian didn't seem so awful.

After dinner, we all sat around the table, drinking Grandma's favorite chianti and chatting pleasantly. Grandma asked Karen, "What crafting materials are you going to take to college?"

"None. I'm not going to craft when I'm at college."

"You aren't?" asked Grandma. It was hard to imagine Karen not crafting. "What are you going to do in your free time?"

"I'm going to have a boyfriend, and we're going spend a lot of time together dating." Karen's tone shifted considerably like she was almost throwing down a gauntlet. "I'm a very attractive young woman. I realize now that I had acted in high school in such a way that boys wouldn't be interested in me. I'm not going to do that in college. I've been researching this summer on how to wear makeup and how to dress more attractively." I looked over at Mom, and her mouth was opening and closing like a guppy that needed its water changed. "I'm confident there'll be a lot of boys who'll want to ask me out."

Grandma smiled. "You are an attractive young woman. And hopefully one of those boys will marry you someday."

Karen shook her head. "I am not going to college to meet a guy to marry. It might happen, but I'm doubtful. There'll be a lot of good-looking guys at college, and I want to date my share before I think about settling down." Karen looked at Mom and said firmly. "And I plan to enjoy all aspects of dating."

Suddenly, I was very glad Karen and I had been playing the game. She had not been anywhere close to this confident at the start of the summer. And I liked the new Karen as a person very much. I felt proud to have been a part of her transformation.

Mom looked furious; angry that her good girl would so forcefully renounce her wait-for-marriage vows. She raised her finger and opened her mouth to launch into a lecture...

But Grandma spoke first. "Things have changed so much since I was a little girl. Girls then wanted so much to learn how to cook well so they'd make a great wife. But one thing has not changed; deciding whom you marry is the most important decision you'll make. A good marriage will make you happy all of your life. A marriage that has lost its love is a tragedy, no matter how it is resolved. Don't marry for the wedding or the honeymoon or because you're dating someone and all your friends are getting married. Marry someone who will be your partner through all the struggles in your life. You will have struggles. When you date a boy, watch how he reacts to the problems that happen, and think if that's how you want him to act when you face even bigger problems. Marry someone who will be a good father, who wants children and wants to help you raise them. At my age, it's my children and grandchildren that give me all my joy. Finally, marry someone who'll still be in love with you when you're old and gray like me."

Karen got up and hugged Grandma. "Thank you, Grandma. That's great advice, and I'll keep it close to my heart. And thank you for teaching me so much today." Karen hugged Grandma again.

I said, "There's a story from work I meant to tell." I launched into my story. The moment for Mom's lecture had passed, and she didn't say anything critical to Karen that evening.

* * * *

Karen and I fell into a certain rhythm. On Sunday and Tuesday nights, she'd slip into my bedroom. Her technique improved by leaps and bounds, so she was obviously studying up between sessions. Wednesday night, I'd hang with her in the craft room. Thursday afternoon, we'd play the game when I got home. The game was always different - Karen always wore something different, and we'd go to different parts of the house for me to spank her. One time she wore a mostly see-through babydoll with panties; another time her top consisted of pasties. Sometimes she'd want me to feel her tits, sometimes not; it seemed dependent on the top she wore. Sometimes we had a dessert she had made afterward, sometimes not. We spent every other weekend learning to cook from Grandma. Karen picked up the lessons far faster than me, but I learned quite a bit too.

Except for Wednesday night, I'd typically go out sometime after dinner. I'd meet up with friends or people at work, or sometimes go somewhere by myself. But one thing I didn't do was date. Karen wasn't my girlfriend, but I felt a certain loyalty towards her, and it'd be wrong for me to get romantic with someone else.

One Monday, my plans for the night had fallen through, so I spent it reading in the craft room. At one point, Karen surprised me by saying out of the blue, "I'm not a virgin."

"You aren't?"

"No. I've made love one time."

I set my Harry Potter book down. "Was Jonathan the lucky guy?"

"No. He was too timid. It was a friend of mine at school; a really cute guy; very, very popular. Not a close friend, but a friend. He had recently broken up with his girlfriend of two years. I told him we should get together sometime at the mall and have some fun. I said 'Have fun' several times. He finally agreed. We met at the mall, had dinner, and walked around for a while. We walked back to his parent's SUV, got in, and I threw myself at him. We made out hot and heavy for a while, and then he said 'Let's go someplace more private.' We parked in the driveway in the back of someone's house who was gone for the weekend. We made out some more, got naked, he coached me through doing oral sex on him, he did oral sex on me for a while, and then he took my virginity."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Yeah. It was good, but it wasn't earth-shattering or anything." It sounded merely okay. "When we were done, he drove me back to the mall and dropped me off at my car. We never did anything together again, and a few weeks later he was dating another girl."

"Were you on birth control?"

"Yeah. This was right after Spring Break this year."

"Do you wish you had waited for a more romantic time?"

Karen thought for a bit. "I'm happy I did it the way I did. Would it have been better if my first time had been on my wedding night in the moonlight in a hotel room that overlooked the ocean? Yes. But I'm not going to wait that long. If it hadn't been my friend, it would have been some guy in college. At least I wasn't drunk, and the guy didn't pressure me into it. And now when someone says that my opinion doesn't matter because I don't know anything about sex, I can say I do." Karen smiled. "I think of it like cheesecake." Cheesecake was Karen's favorite dessert, and whenever we went out to a restaurant, she and Mom shared a slice. "If I didn't have cheesecake until my wedding day, would that first slice be extra special? Would I really savor it? Yes. But would I have wanted to deny myself cheesecake for years just so that the first time I had it was special? No."

* * * *

Wednesday night, Karen and I were doing our things in the craft room when she suddenly said, "I'd like to do another photoshoot."

I was close to finishing the last Harry Potter book. I set it down and smiled. "Sure."

"Okay. Let me put some makeup on first."

"Fine."

We went into the bathroom together. I watched her put makeup on for a while and then got bored. I got The Deathly Hallows and read it on Karen's bed until she came in. Harry, Ron, and Hermione escaped from trouble on the back of a dragon, one of my favorite scenes. When Karen arrived, she said, "You're going to use your phone to take pictures, and I'll get them off it later." As I pulled out my phone, she plugged hers into her speaker/charger combo and fiddled with it until music started playing. Karen normally liked female vocalists singing with a guitar, but the music playing now was sexy dance music. It wasn't very loud - Mom wouldn't hear it - just loud enough to fill the room.

Karen turned to me, and I saw that the makeup again was subtle, strengthening her best features and covering up her few blemishes. She looked so pretty. She said, "Stand up and turn around."

I did as I was told. As I was facing away from her, I straightened my hardening dick. I wondered what outfit she'd wear.

"Okay. You can turn around now."

When I turned around, I was surprised to see Karen wearing a yellow bikini top and yellow terry cloth short-shorts. I had expected to see her in one of her crochet tops. Karen smiled at me and eventually gave me a "Come on" gesture when I didn't take a picture of her. I pulled out my phone and took a picture. Karen moved slowly into another pose, smiling at me the whole time. She knew she looked hot and was happy to show off her body to me. Once I took that picture, she danced sensuously to the music, raising her arms above her head as slowly twirled around the room while swaying her hips. I realized that this photoshoot wasn't even going to have the thin excuse of seeing how one of her crochet tops would look on a model; it was about Karen being as sexy as she could be while I captured each moment for posterity. Last time, I had told Karen what to do; this time, she knew exactly what she wanted to do.

Karen went over to her bookcase, leaned against it so her back was towards me, and slowly wiggled her ass as she looked at me over her shoulder. Click! Click! Click! I could see no pantie line on the tight-fitting shorts. Karen danced around the room some more. I couldn't get a good shot while she was moving, but I enjoyed watching her runner's body move gracefully. She stopped, put one hand behind her head, stuck out her chest, and slowly raised her other arm in a large circle. Click! Click! Click! Some more dancing, and then she pulled out her desk chair. As she knelt on it, she bent forward while smiling at me, giving me a great view down her top. As her top pulled away from her chest, I could see most of her tits dangling downward. I was almost too mesmerized to take a picture.

When Karen hopped off the chair, she said, "Turn around again."

I did and heard drawers open and close, clothes being taken off and put on. "Okay, turn around."

When I turned around, she was wearing red panties and the red crochet top with the zipper in the middle that had the big pull ring. The panties were a little bit of fabric in the middle surrounded by a lot of lace. Click! Karen again slowly twirled around the room, showing me her firm little ass nicely encased by the sexy panties. She leaned on the desk to give me a great view of her butt. Click! She slowly wiggled it side to side. Click! Click! Click! Karen stood up and faced me. She gave me a lusty look as she slowly pulled the zipper down a little. Click!

She continued dancing and posing. After each pose, she'd pull the zipper a little further down. I found myself staring at the zipper as she moved. How far would she pull it?

When the zipper was at the very bottom, Karen gave me a sly smile and then turned around. She suddenly flung the top onto her bed. She turned to me with one arm covering her tits and started dancing again. Click! Click! Click! She'd occasionally do quick spins, and as she did, she'd change the arm that was covering her tits. Her movements now were much more sensual and erotic, like she had figured out how best to move during the photoshoot. She spent a lot of time not facing me directly, giving me a great look at her ass as she twisted her head to smile at me. God, my sister was so hot. I wanted to throw her down on the bed and fuck her brains out.
Then Karen came up and leaned lightly against me. As she looked up at me, she gave me a I know what you're thinking look. She smiled and said, "I'm going to make cheesecake tomorrow."

* * * *

The next day, I was glad that my job was mostly physical as I had zero ability to concentrate. I was certain what "cheesecake" had meant last night, that Karen was ready for me to fuck her. I was just as ready to do it. I knew it was wrong to want to fuck my sister. Like really, really, really wrong. Like burn-in-hell-forever wrong. But I just didn't care. Karen was so hot and sexy and so knew how to press my buttons. I had never wanted to fuck a girl as much as I wanted to fuck Karen. It wasn't even close. I had never wanted anything in my life as much as I wanted to fuck Karen. And tonight, that's what I was going to do.

The afternoon crawled. I daydreamed a lot about what Karen would be wearing when I got home. I assumed it'd be another sexy crocheted top. I hoped she come up with something even hotter than the red one with the zipper, though I had no idea how she'd do that. I thought several times about leaving early, but what would be the point? Karen wouldn't be ready for me until my normal time to get home.

I had a huge grin on my face when I pulled up in front of our house. It was all I could do to keep from sprinting to the front door. My heart was pounding as I stepped in. I purposely looked down as I wanted my first look at Karen to be a good one. Once I had locked the front door, I turned and...was stunned.

Karen was wearing something out of a Harry Potter-themed sexual fantasy. Instead of her normal shorts, she was wearing a super-short gray-and-red plaid wool skirt. Attached to the top of the skirt were some scarlet and gold suspenders - the colors of Gryffindor House - which ran up to a gray crochet top. Other than the suspenders, her midriff was bare. The bottom of the crochet top was a dense band of stitches that circled Karen's chest just under her bust. The suspenders slipped under a small bridge on each side of the band and ran upwards. The only things that covered Karen's marvelous tits were the suspenders, and they were only wide enough to cover her areolas. Above her tits was a spiderweb of yarn in two triangles, with a deep exposed valley between Karen's breasts. Around Karen's neck was a stiff white collar, and a small scarlet-and-gold tie hung down into that valley. Karen moved slightly to the side, so I could see she had a short cape in back. I could also see more of her wonderful boob flesh.

Karen slowly turned in front of me. Hermione Granger was number one on my list of fictional characters I wanted to fuck, and Karen looked like a hypersexualized version of her.

"That's amazing, Karen," I said in an awed voice. She was wearing makeup again; her lashes were fuller than normal and her lips looked redder and more luscious. She looked so sexy; my dream girl come to life.

"Do you like it?" Karen asked.

Time to play the game. "I hate it! I hate it! How could you wear something so...so...incredibly sexy for your brother?"

"I...I..."

"You've worn sexy things when I got home before, but nothing that said 'Fuck me now' like this. What were you thinking?"

Karen said in a small voice, "I wanted to give you a nice surprise."

"A nice surprise? This is totally inappropriate, Karen. College starts in only a few weeks, and you need to learn what's appropriate and what's not before you move into the dorms. I'm going to have to give you a lesson."

"No, Mark! Not a lesson!"

"Yes, Karen--"

Before I could finish, Karen slipped away. She moved around me to the staircase and then raced up the stairs. We had always stayed downstairs before. I slowly followed her up.

When I got to the second floor, the only open door was to Karen's bedroom. I entered and then closed and locked the door behind me. Karen was lying face down on her bed with her knees bent. The covers were off the bed, a large towel in their place. The bondage set I had bought had a set of straps that you could put under the bed and then connect cuffs to. There were now cuffs on the four corners of Karen's bed. Karen's wrists were close to the two by the headboard.

I said, "You've been very bad, Karen." I grabbed her left hand and put it into the cuff. "I'm going to have to discipline you again."

"Please don't spank me, Mark!"

"I'm going to spank you, Karen." I added as menacingly as I could, "And then I'm going to punish you in a new way."

As I cuffed Karen's right wrist, she said, "No, Mark! Please don't! I'll be good from now on!"

"It's too late, Karen. I'll never be able to unsee you in this sexy outfit." I'd remember her like this for the rest of my life. I grabbed my shirt and pulled it over my head. "That's an amazing outfit, Karen. That's the type of outfit people wear in porn videos." Karen gave her ass a happy wiggle. "Really hot porn videos." Karen's butt wiggled happily again. "This is cruel, Karen. No brother should have a sister that looks this incredibly hot."

I kept up the talk as I stripped naked, and then I got on the bed. I slipped my hand under the skirt, and Karen wasn't wearing any panties. As I gently rubbed her ass, I said, "I'm going to spank you so hard, Karen."

"Please don't spank me!"

"I have to spank you, Karen. I have to teach you a lesson. You should never wear an outfit this sexy unless you want a guy to fuck you." I continued rubbing my hand gently over her butt and her upper thighs. I had decided that I was going to leave the whole outfit on her. When I finally fucked my sister, it'd be like I was fucking Hermione Granger too. Two fantasies fulfilled at once! "Yeah, you're not going to be able to sit down for a week when I'm done with you."

"Please don't hurt me, Mark! I didn't think this outfit was that bad."

As I continued running my hand over Karen's perfect ass, I said, "Are you ready to be spanked? Are you ready to be taught a lesson?" Normally, I got to the spanking quickly, as I wanted it over with. But today, I felt like drawing things out. We both knew what I'd do after the spanks were done, and I was in no rush to get there. Karen wiggled her butt into my hand. "And don't tell me you didn't know this outfit was that bad. You spent hours making it, didn't you? You designed it with one thing in mind, didn't you? To excite your big brother?"

"Please, Mark. Please spank me and get it over with. I can't stand you taunting me like this."

I flipped the skirt up so it was out of the way. I moved into spanking position. I pulled my hand back. But instead of striking Karen's bottom, I gave it a gentle squeeze. Karen whimpered.

"I'm human, Karen. I can't take you showing off your body like this anymore."

"This is so humiliating, Mark. Please spank me and let me go." Her voice was full of misery. I'd feel guilty as hell if she hadn't let me know in so many other ways she wanted this.

I struck Karen's bottom. A little harder than normal, but not overly hard. I said, "I'm not letting you go when I'm done spanking you Karen."

"Please, Mark," Karen whimpered.

I spanked her again. "I'm going to give you a lesson you'll never forget."

"God, Mark. I'm your sister. You shouldn't be doing this to me."

The third spank. "You never listen to me, Karen. Maybe after today, you'll listen to me."

Karen writhed on the bed. "Please stop, Mark. This is so wrong!"

The fourth spank. I held my hand on her bottom when I was done with the stroke. I then moved it up to the unspanked top of her ass and gently rubbed.

"Oh, God! Oh, God!" moaned Karen. She pulled against the straps, struggling to break free. I could tell she wasn't pulling very hard because the bed hardly moved, but it looked like she was struggling hard.

I said, "You have an amazing body, Karen." I brought my hand down and rubbed the top of the back of her thighs. "Any man would want to touch it, to feel it, to enjoy it." I was certainly enjoying touching it, running my hands along her smooth skin.

"No, Mark! I'm your sister! Don't think of going there!"

I was definitely going to go there. I pulled back and gave her the fifth and final spank.

"Please let me go, Mark! Please let me go!"

I got up and moved onto the bed behind Karen. She was still raised up on her knees, in the right position to be fucked doggie-style. I gripped my cock and moved forward until it was touching her pussy lips. I was so hard. I couldn't imagine being harder in my life.

"This is what you want, Karen, isn't it?" I slid my cock up and down between her pussy lips. "You want to feel my cock, don't you?"

"No, Mark! I don't want this!" Karen started to cry.

"And not just on the outside. You want to feel my cock inside you, don't you?" I continued sliding my cock up and down between her pussy lips. "You want me to fuck you, right?" Karen whimpered. It sounded like a cross between a whimper of fear and a whimper of desire.

Karen had been burying her face in her bed. Now, she twisted her head around so she could see me. Tears were running down her face. "Don't fuck me, Mark! I'm your sister! How could you think of doing such a thing?"

Her tears made me doubt. And then I thought back to last night, and I put my doubts aside. "This is why you spent hours making that outfit, to tempt me so much that I couldn't take it anymore."

Karen went back to buying her face in her bed. "Noooooooooo!"

I moved a little closer. "Well, I can't take it anymore, Karen!"

"Noooooooooo!"

I guided my cock to her pussy and slipped its head inside her.

"Oh, God!"

I pushed a little forward. Karen had some lubrication, but not a lot. I waited for her body to get used to my presence. I wanted so much to just ram my cock all the way into her. I had never wanted to fuck somebody so much before. But I wanted her to enjoy our fuck as much as possible.

I pushed a little more forward.

"Pleeeeeease!" pleaded Karen.

I pulled back and thrust a little further. Karen didn't move now. She was also silent. The only sound I heard was my breathing.

I continued slowly thrusting into Karen, pushing a little deeper on each thrust. I could feel her getting more lubricated on each thrust. The next few thrusts, I didn't thrust any further. I wanted to build up more lubrication inside of her before I went deeper.

Then Karen began slightly moving her hips to meet my thrusts. I took that as a sign she was ready for more. I pushed in a little further and then a little further. Her hip movements got bigger, encouraging me. I did one more thrust, and I was finally fully sheathed inside my sister. I held that position for a moment.

Karen and I were both panting. Then she spoke again. "This is so awful, Mark!" Pant. "How can you do this to me?" There was no anger in her voice. "How can you do this to your sister?"

Something about that made me smile. "Don't tell me you don't want this. This is why you dressed up like you did today. You wanted me to fuck you senseless." I tried to sound angry, but couldn't quite do it. We both knew what I was saying was the truth. I gripped Karen's hips. "So that's what I'm going to do."

I started fucking her in earnest. For the first few thrusts, she held her position. She gripped the straps to her wrist cuffs tightly.

"Stop, Mark! I'm your sister! Don't use me like this. Nooo. Nooo. Nooo." The no's had sounded like moans. "Oh, God! Oh, God!"

As I developed a rhythm, Karen rocked her hips back as I plunged into her. Her bed squeaked and groaned. She had her head turned to the side. Her makeup was a mess from her tears and her rubbing her face on the sheets, but she still looked beautiful to me.

Karen was now slamming her hips back hard to meet my thrusts. I fucked her harder. Every thrust, I pulled her hips to me as hard as I could. I fucked her like I was an animal. I knew the harder I fucked her, the more she'd love it.

Karen finally found her voice again. "Noooo, Mark. Oh, God. Oh, God." The last came out almost as moans. "Please stop." She slammed her hips back to meet my thrust. "This is so awful, so terrible." Her voice was full of wonder and pleasure. "I can't...believe...you're doing...this...to me."

It was incredible. I was on such an erotic high; totally full of lust. I knew I wouldn't last very long because the pleasure was so intense. She was so tight, she gripped my cock so firmly; I felt like she was milking me. Waves of pleasure swept over me. I kept slamming my incredibly hot little sister, and she kept slamming me back.

"Almost," I groaned. "Almost there."

"Please, Mark...No, not in me" She continued fucking me hard. "I'm your sister...You shouldn't...Oh, God...Oh, God"

My pleasure took me past the point of no return. I felt it, the surge within my balls. I erupted, shooting cum deep within my sister.

"Mark! How could you? How could you? Oh, my God."

I slowed down, savoring the last few blasts.

"How could you come in your sister?"

With much, much pleasure.

Once I was done coming, I held my position for a few moments, standing upright behind my sister. When I finally caught my breath, I pulled out. I said, "I hope that lesson was as memorable for you as it was for me."

I grabbed the towel, wiped myself clean, and then moved off the bed. I released Karen from the cuffs, scooped up my clothes, and staggered from the room.

* * * *

After Karen ate the first forkful of cheesecake, she said, "Amazing. That was incredibly amazing."

I smiled. It had been amazing for me, and I was glad it had been amazing for her. I got another forkful for her and said, "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"You going slow at first drove me absolutely crazy."

I smiled and slipped the cheesecake into Karen's mouth. She used her fork to feed me a mouthful.

I said, "Awesome. That was awesome. Something I'll remember and enjoy until the day I die." Karen gave me a big smile. "Everything you do turns out fantastic, Karen." She looked down bashfully. "I honestly mean that. You're an incredible woman."

As Karen got me another forkful, I asked, "No regrets about having cheesecake with me?"

"None whatsoever." Karen fed me another bit. As I was chewing it, she said, "It amazes me how you always know the right thing to do and say."

I didn't feel that way. During our game, I had no idea what was going on in Karen's head, and I always felt like I floundered around. Why did she want to play the game like she did?

I said, "There's this woman. She really likes cheesecake; actually, rich desserts including cheesecake."

Karen gave me a hint of a smile. "Anyone I know?"

"I doubt it." We both knew that was a lie. "The odd thing about her is that she acts like she doesn't want dessert. She protests the whole time she's offered one, and you practically have to shove it down her throat. Why would she act that way?"

"Why do you ask?" Karen seemed a bit defensive.

"I'm asking for a friend."

Karen looked away for a moment. We never discussed our game, so I felt like I was taking a risky step by asking her to give me some hint as to why she wanted me to pretend I was forcing myself on her every week. I hoped my phrasing was vague enough that she'd feel comfortable giving me a vague answer in return.

Karen looked back at me. "Let's say the woman your friend knows has for all her life has been told to not eat cheesecake or other rich desserts. They're so decadent! They'll make your belly swell up really big! No decent woman would eat them."

"Okay."

"And of course, every time someone told the woman not to have a decadent dessert, she'd want to have a decadent dessert even more. And then she'd feel guilty about wanting a decadent dessert. Her mother may have constantly told her to avoid decadent desserts, she doesn't want to disappoint her mom, but, at the same time, she wants to have a decadent dessert. So how can she have a decadent dessert without feeling guilty about it?" Karen let the question hang there for a moment. "By having someone force her to have the dessert."

That made a weird kind of sense. "I'd think it'd be hard to enjoy a dessert if someone was forcing you to eat it."

Karen thought for a moment. "I think dessert eating is different for women than it is for guys. The woman probably doesn't enjoy the dessert too much at the time she eats it, but, later, she can think about eating it without feeling guilty. She could later recall every sensation and really savor it." Karen looked a little starry-eyed as she said that.

I said, "So if making her eat the decadent dessert is treated like a punishment, the more she's punished along with being forced to eat, the less guilty she feels afterward."

Karen nodded her head. "Yes. That's it." And then she added, "The person who forces the woman to eat the decadent dessert has to be very special. If she's not going to feel guilty afterward, she has to have the feeling before she eats dessert that she must eat it. She has to be a little afraid of the other person."

"But not very afraid."

"Enough to get the adrenaline flowing, but not enough to cause her to panic."

"The adrenaline would make the experience much more intense for her?"

"Oh, yes. It's very addicting to have sex while your adrenaline is pumping. Err, I mean dessert."

"Of course." I nodded my head. I now had a much better idea of what she wanted from me. "It'd help if he was much bigger than her and angry."

"It would. Another reason the other person has to be very special is that she has to know he'll do nothing that she wouldn't want him to. She really, really has to trust him. She'd want to feel a little fearful, but at the same time feel safe with that person." Karen stabbed a small piece of cheesecake and lifted it up. "Enough talking. Let's just sit here and savor the feeling of having cheesecake together."

I opened my mouth, and she fed me. There was so much more I wanted to say, about how much I had loved her outfit, how beautiful she had looked, how great the sex had been, and how it was the best fuck of my life. But per the game, those discussions were off-limits. Instead, I contented myself with meaningful looks and innocent-sounding remarks as we finished our slices of cheesecake.

* * * *

I wished Karen and I could have made love a hundred times that summer, but we only did twice more before it was time to move her into her dorm room. I had always known the summer would end, but its ending still hit me hard. There was something unreal about it being over, like everybody was only pretending that I was about to say goodbye to my sister until Thanksgiving.

When all Karen's clothes and stuff were put away in exactly the right spot in her room, and Mom and Dad had said goodbye, I pulled out a small wrapped present from my pants pocket and gave it to her.

"What's this?"

"Open it and see."

She removed the wrapping paper, opened the box, and pulled out the item. "Okay, what is it?"

"They're noise-blocking earmuffs. If you choose to go to a football game or a movie, they should reduce the noise down to a more tolerable level for you."

Tears filled Karen's eyes, and then she hugged me tightly. I could feel my eyes water. And that was really, really the end to an incredible summer.

* * * *

When I came home for Thanksgiving, I was very excited to see Karen. Then the first thing she told me was, "I have a boyfriend." She pulled out her phone and showed me pictures of him and the two of them together. Karen had fallen in with a group of attractive freshman girls, and all of them had quickly paired up with boyfriends. The girls liked to do group dates to football games and movies. "Thanks so much for the earmuffs. They've made a huge difference."

I was happy for Karen; this was what she really wanted, and now she had it. At the same time, I felt very sad. I had known things were probably over between us, but there had still been a faint hope. Later when I was helping Karen in the kitchen, she said quietly to me, "I think it best we never put ourselves in a position to repeat what we did this summer. That's passed, and we've moved on." Whatever faint hope I had died.
I had dated before Thanksgiving, but not seriously. After Thanksgiving, I found a steady girlfriend for the rest of the school year.

That Christmas, all of my dad's family came to our house. Most of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, Karen and Grandma cooked with the assistance of my three aunts. I hung out in the kitchen and helped when I could. My aunts told lots of stories of learning to cook from Grandma. None of my cousins spent any time in the kitchen.

All of my family from both sides came to see me graduate. They sat in uncomfortable seats for three hours to watch the few seconds it took me to walk across the stage. I could hear them cheering the whole time I walked, and it made me almost cry. I loved my family.

Terrence and I got jobs working at the same corporation we had worked as interns/movers. Terrence got a job in the Marketing group. Michael was his champion, and everyone agreed that Terrence had done a great job in a poor situation. I got a job as an Assistant Project Manager. Someone I had played hoops with at lunch had taken a liking to me and had given me a chance. He told me, "I won't be afraid to give you any of the grunt work that comes up." Terrence and I got an apartment together. We had picked up a surprising amount by osmosis, so we were able to hit the ground running when we started our real jobs.

Karen crafted like crazy when she got home for her first summer. We continued to spend every other Saturday with Grandma, learning to cook. Now that I was cooking my own meals, I tried my hand a lot more. I'd never be a great cook, but I was better than any girl I dated.

The next summer, Karen had a boyfriend. They alternated visiting each other on the weekends. He visited on the weekends Karen spent with Grandma, so he took over my videoing duties. I'd come over for Saturday dinner and Sunday lunch. Every meal, I'd look at her boyfriend and think You're dating a girl who looks like that and cooks like this, and you don't fucking get down on one knee and propose? You're an idiot.

They broke up in October.

During the Spring semester of Karen's junior year, Grandma started going in and out of the hospital. That summer, the doctors told my parents there was nothing more they could do. My parents moved Grandma into their bedroom, and they moved into my old bedroom. Karen cooked all of Grandma's favorite recipes, and the house was always full of the wonderful smell of Italian food. When people came to visit Grandma, we gave them food to take home. They'd cry more when we handed them the food than when they had been visiting with Grandma.

Eventually, all of my Dad's family arrived. A lot of us were in Grandma's bedroom, including Karen. Grandma said weakly, "Karen, come here." Karen sat down next to Grandma. Grandma took her hand and said, "I'm so glad I was able to teach you so much." Then Grandma closed her eyes and stopped breathing.

* * * *

A few weeks before the next Thanksgiving, Karen called me. "I'm really looking forward to seeing you at Thanksgiving. Why don't you stay at Mom and Dad's that weekend?"

I wondered...no. It had been over three years. Karen had moved on. Still... "Sure I can do that."

I was dating a girl named Janice who was half-Japanese and cute as a button; smart, funny, and always up for adventure. She spent a lot of nights with me. I'd cook dinner, and then she'd sleep over. She had hinted a few times about living together, but I wasn't interested in getting that serious. Sex with her was frequent and good, but unmemorable.

I could remember every time Karen and I had played the game; what she wore, what we did, and where we did it. I had made a cryptic list on my computer in case the details ever got foggy, but they never did.

* * * *

I worked a half-day the day before Thanksgiving, then went over to my parents. Thanksgiving was the one day of the year my mom really cooked, and Karen and I pitched in with the preparations. At some point, Karen told Mom, "I broke up with Lucas a couple of weeks ago."

Mom said, "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's not a big deal; we were never very serious. I've had five boyfriends in college, and Lucas wouldn't make the top three."

"Ouch!" added Mom.

Karen shrugged. "You have to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince. But I'm ready to take a break from frog kissing. Unless some guy totally wows me, I'm not going to date again until I start working."

I wondered if Karen was talking more to me than Mom.

Karen didn't slip into my room that night. Nothing unusual happened on Thanksgiving. Whatever hope I had of Karen resuming the game got fainter and fainter.

Then the morning of Black Friday, Karen came down from her room all excited. "Mom! Dad! I got your Christmas present!"

Mom asked, "What is it, Karen?"

Karen said in a rush, "I was planning on getting you two tickets to a musical for Christmas. Well, Mamma Mia! is what is currently performing, and I got a great price on tickets for tonight's show!"

Mom said, "I've been wanting to see that!"

Karen added, "The shows after Mamma Mia! didn't look nearly as appealing. I hope you and Dad don't mind me giving you your Christmas present so early."

Dad said, "No problem at all. Things work out that way sometimes. I'd much rather go now to see a show we really want to see than get tickets on Christmas to a show we aren't as interested in."

What a lovely coincidence. Karen was planning something, and I hoped and prayed that I knew what it was.

Karen and Mom talked about the shopping they wanted to do. I had no desire to go to any retail establishment. Then Karen dropped a bomb. "I found this raspberry white chocolate cheesecake recipe I really want to try. I'd like to make it this afternoon."

Mom said, "Oooh! That sounds wonderful. Perhaps your brother would pick up the ingredients while you and I are out shopping."

* * * *

Except for the run to the grocery store, I spent the day watching football with Dad. I had a huge grin on my face the whole day.

After dinner, time seemed to crawl. Finally, Mom and Dad left for the 7:30 show. Once they left, I said to Karen, "I'm going to go buy a cold Coke. We don't have any in the house. I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

Karen smiled. We were once again playing the game, not directly discussing what we were both thinking about. As I headed towards the door, I felt truly alive for the first time in years.

When I came back into the house, I was surprised to not see Karen waiting for me in the entryway. The lights were out downstairs. I called out, "Karen?"

"I'm in here."

I followed her voice into the kitchen. The lights were out there except for the light over the sink. Karen was standing under that light wearing an apron. It was like a spotlight shining down on her.

Karen said, "I was checking on the cheesecake. It'll be ready to eat in a little bit."

The apron Karen was wearing was one I had given her last Christmas. It said "World's Greatest Cook." Her arms and chest were bare above it. Was she naked underneath it?

I said, "I like how that apron looks on you." I moved around Karen to see her backside, and she turned as I did, a smile on her face.

I loved that Karen was a great cook. There was something so sexy about her wearing just an apron in the kitchen that excited me more than any of her crochet tops.

I knew per the game that I was supposed to get angry, but I couldn't. I was too happy about the prospect of having sex with my sister again. Karen started giggling as I dodged side-to-side while she spun around to keep me from seeing her backside. I joined in. Soon, we were laughing uncontrollably as we circled each other in the kitchen.

And then Karen dashed out of the kitchen. I saw a brief flash of butt before Karen turned the corner and was gone. As I headed out of the kitchen, I heard Karen thundering up the stairs. I chuckled. I was certain that she was looking forward to this as much as I was.

When I got to Karen's room, she was lying face down in the middle of the bed. As I expected, the covers were gone and in their place was a towel, and cuffs were on the four corners of her mattress. Karen was still in the apron, which had a big bowknot in the back. I had expected Karen to be on her knees, but she was lying flat. I decided to cuff Karen before removing the apron.

As I got on the bed, I said with all the disappointment I could muster, "Karen, Karen, Karen. It's been over three years, and I had thought you had learned." I cuffed her left wrist. "How could you wear just an apron in front of your brother? And in the kitchen." I cuffed her right wrist. "You have no idea how much you in the kitchen wearing just an apron excited me." Karen wiggled her butt happily. Hopefully, Karen could hear the truth in my voice.

I was about to untie the bow on Karen's apron when she started kicking her feet up and down. Why was she doing that? I guess she wanted to do something different this time, but I had no idea what. She continued kicking her feet and there were cuffs for her ankles...

As I moved to her left foot, I scanned the room for clues. "I'm going to spank you so hard, Karen, you won't be able to sit down for the rest of the weekend." As I cuffed her left ankle, I noticed that the book I was reading was on Karen's bedside table along with a bottle. I ran my hand up the inside of her leg to her sweet little tush under the apron. Her skin was so smooth, and her leg felt so firm. "Your bottom is going to be glowing red." I gave her butt a little squeeze. I ran my hand down her right leg to her ankle, which I then cuffed. I couldn't see anything else in the room that looked unusual.

"This is terrible, Mark. You've never totally restrained me before. Let me go! I'm your sister!"

I loved playing the game again. "Oh, I'll let you go. Once I've taught you a lesson."

Karen was completely stretched on the bed. She might be able to raise herself up a little bit, but not very much. How was I going to fuck her in this position? It'd be a very difficult angle. I considered what I would do as I stripped naked.

"Mark! I'm an adult now. I'm not some kid just out of high school anymore. You shouldn't humiliate me like this."

"You should have considered what was going to happen if you greeted me wearing just an apron." I moved to the bow. "And speaking of apron..." I pulled on one of the ties, and the knot came undone. "We don't want to get this messed up, do we?" I spread the apron so it was flat on the bed. Karen lifted herself off the bed briefly, and I pulled the apron out from underneath her. She was naked now.

As I got off the bed, I said, "I don't know what I'll do tonight. I had thought that what I had done at the end of that summer had finally taught you something. But now, I know I was wrong." I walked over to the bedside table and picked up the bottle. All natural, water-based lubricant. Huh? I had always assumed that Karen had used some lubricant before I had gotten home as I had never done anything to lubricate her before we had made love, and she had never been completely dry. But why would she bring attention to her lubricant?

I turned back to the bed. "Maybe I should..."

Karen was wiggling her ass like crazy. Ass. Lubricant. A light bulb went off over my head. Really? Is that what she wanted to do?

I moved back on the bed with the bottle in my hand. "Yeah, I'm not going to spank your bottom this time. You're ready for that, aren't you?" I put all the menace I could in my voice. I was more certain as to what Karen wanted. Karen wanted to do something special for us resuming the game, something we had never done before. A new level of debauchery. "I'm going to do something you're not prepared for."

"No, Mark! Don't do whatever you're thinking of doing." She wiggled her ass again. I almost laughed.

I thought over everything I knew about anal sex. I'd never done anything with someone's butt before. I'd read a lot of porn stories and seen a lot of anal sex in videos, but I knew porn was nothing like real life. I'd use tons of lubricant - I'd much rather use too much than not enough. I'd put one finger inside her as a test to make sure she really wanted to go through with it.

As I gently rubbed Karen's ass, I said, "Spanking apparently doesn't work. It's time to try something new."

"No, Mark. Nothing new back there. No one's ever done anything back there to me."

I smiled. I was going to be her first. I squirted a small amount of lube on Karen's butt a little above her asshole. The room was mostly dark, but it looked to me like the area around her anus had been washed clean. "You have such a fantastic tush, Karen."

"Mark, stop! Don't do it!"

I got some lubricant with my index finger and rubbed it all around her puckered asshole. "A completely new lesson, Karen. Hopefully, you'll learn this time."

"Please, Mark! Not that!"

I pushed my finger gently a small amount into Karen's anus. She didn't say anything. I assumed she was concentrating on relaxing her sphincter muscle. "You have a great ass, Karen. Just the right size and shape. I love it." The grip on my finger seemed to relax. "I've missed touching it. I've missed spanking it." I was able to move my finger further in, past my first knuckle. "I've explored the outside completely. I've got it practically memorized." I moved my finger around in a slow circle. "It's time to explore it in a new way."

I made a couple of more circles. Karen was quiet, and I again assumed she was focused on relaxing her sphincter. I decided to play it safe and get more lube. I pulled my finger out.

Karen said, "This is so humiliating. How can you do this to your sister? Have you done this to anyone else?"

I put some more lube on her anus. "No, I've never done anything like this before." I again ran my finger in a circle around her puckered asshole. "But no one has needed a lesson like you do." My finger slipped in once again. It was easier this time. I pushed forward until I was past my second knuckle. I slowly moved my finger in a circle, trying to get Karen's butt used to its intruder. I moved my finger forward until its full length was inside Karen. "How does that feel?"

"Awful! Terrible! I can't believe you're doing this to me. How could you be so cruel to your sister?"

This was crazy. I had never dreamed that one day I'd have a finger up my sister's butt.

I was so afraid of hurting Karen, but I seemed to be doing okay. All I was getting from her were her usual teasing denials. I hoped that if I was doing something seriously wrong, she would use a stern voice to get me to stop.

I pulled my finger slowly back a knuckle, and then I pushed it back in. I pulled back and pushed forward. I continued doing so, going a little faster and pulling a little further back each time. We were both quiet, focused on our new exploration.

I pulled my finger out to get more lube. Once it was out, Karen begged, "Please, no more. Mark. You've made your point. I've learned my lesson. Please stop!"

I put the lube on her asshole and then pushed as much of it as I could into her back door. I was able to slide the length of my finger into her easily this time. "I've only started the lesson. There's so much more to it, Karen." I fucked Karen's ass with my finger again and again, until I felt like her backside was fully accustomed to it. I pulled it out. I wished Karen would tell me if I was using too much lube or not enough, but that would break the rules of our game. I put more lube on her asshole. It was slightly open now, inviting me back in. I placed two fingers on her entrance. "Time for the next part of your lesson."

I slid my fingers in, going slowly again. I heard Karen suck in her breath. Was I hurting her? I hoped not. But I was also certain that this was what she wanted, and that she could take a little pain with her pleasure. My fingers were in past the first knuckle, and then the second, and then all the way inside her. Her backside gripped them tightly. Again, I hoped I had enough lube inside of her. I slowly rotated my hand 180 degrees and then rotated it back. Karen was taking lots of deep breaths but didn't say anything.

I pulled my fingers back a little and then slowly pushed them forward. I pulled them a little further back and then pushed them all the way in again. I rotated them back and forth and then did another pullback and thrust. I slowly fucked my sister's ass with my two fingers, getting her prepared for what was coming. Karen was quiet, breathing deeply instead of talking.

As I continued preparing my sister's ass, I thought back to the anal porn I had seen. I couldn't remember seeing a time when the woman was lying flat. What I remembered was doggie-style. That'd fit our game just perfectly.

When I felt I had done all I could to prepare Karen's backside, I pulled my fingers out and wiped them on the towel. I then uncuffed Karen's ankles. "Are you ready for your big lesson?"

"No, Mark! Stop! You can't do this to me."

I grabbed Karen's legs and raised her butt up into doggie position. Part of me was still in disbelief that I was about to fuck my sister's ass and take her anal cherry after three years of not having sex with her.

"What are you doing, Mark?"

"I'm moving you into the right position for me to fuck your ass, Karen." I grabbed the lube and started applying it liberally to my cock. "I'm going to fuck your ass so hard, you won't be able to sit down; you're not going to need toilet paper for a week."

"Mark! How can you say such terrible things to your sister?" Karen wiggled her ass at me. "Don't, Mark! Do you really want to be the first guy to fuck me back there?"

Hell, yeah! I felt like laughing. Was this how pro wrestlers felt before a match they had carefully choreographed with their opponent?

I moved into position. I took my cock and slowly circled its head around Karen's anus. "I'm going to tear you into two, Karen. I'm going to rip you to shreds."

"Oh God, Mark. Don't do it!"

"And if you dress up sexy for me again, I'll fuck you like this again."

"Stop, Mark! It's not too late."

I slid the tip of my cock inside Karen's ass. "It's too late now." I pushed forward slowly; the tip had gone in easily but the head of my cock was going to be much more difficult. I watched Karen closely for signs. She was sprawled face down with her arms at a 45-degree angle from her body, their ends in cuffs. Once my cock's head was fully inside of her, Karen twisted her right hand suddenly, giving me a stop sign. I stopped immediately.

"You drive me crazy, Karen, with that sexy body of yours. And your incredible cooking." Karen pushed her ass backward, and my cock slowly moved further inside of her. "And your crazy crafting skills. I can't resist fucking you when I have a chance to."

More of my cock slid inside of Karen and then a little more. Karen suddenly stopped moving. All I heard were her deep breaths as she got used to me being inside her. I wanted Karen to tell me that she was okay, that she was enjoying it; something that would reassure me that she was okay with what we were doing, but she didn't. It would have taken us out of the game, and the game made sex between us work.

Karen began pushing backward again. More and more of my cock slowly disappeared inside of her. It was the most amazing, erotic sight I had ever seen. Karen's ass was amazingly tight, gripping my cock firmly. Every fraction of an inch that my cock slid forward gave me tremendous pleasure. There was nothing I wanted more in the world than my sister's sweet little ass.

Karen kept up the pressure until my groin pressed against her cheeks. I was all the way in! Karen stopped there and took more deep breaths. I loved having my full length gripped so firmly. At the same time, I was eager to start fucking, to ram my cock in and out of my sister's ass. To take her and mark her as mine forever in a special way.
Karen rotated her hand, taking away the stop sign. I slowly pulled back. I thought about pulling back only an inch and then pushing forward, but I decided to do long, slow strokes instead. I continued slowly pulling back while looking for a signal from Karen. Nothing.

When I pulled back so far that the head of my cock was close to coming out, I said. "You ready for me to fuck you? You ready for your lesson?"

"No, Mark! I'm your sister. How can you do this to me?"

With pleasure. I pushed slowly forward, again watching for a sign from Karen. The tightness was incredible. I knew I wouldn't last long. But I was going to enjoy the ride as long as it lasted.

I fucked Karen with long, slow strokes. With her not providing any feedback, I didn't feel comfortable fucking her hard. At first, she held her position as I thrust into her, but, eventually, she pushed back as I thrust. I had no idea how it felt for her, but I loved it. I loved every stroke. With my slowness and care, I felt much more like I was making love than I had when I had fucked her pussy. This fuck was a very special one in so many ways.

I started blowing out long breaths as I pushed into her. I was getting close. Again, my groin was pressed fully against Karen's sweet ass. I took a quick breath in and then blew out as I slowly pulled out. Intense pleasure filled my body. Only a few strokes more...

I couldn't resist going a little faster. Each stroke was amazing; incredible. The pleasure was almost overwhelming. This was the best sex I'd ever had.

As I started another stroke, I felt myself go over the tipping point. I kept pushing forward as I felt myself come. I pushed all the way in just as sperm exploded out of my cock into Karen's ass. "Oh, God," I said. "That feels so good. Soooo good."

I held that position as I came and came and came. It was an amazing experience. I felt so good, so satisfied. I had never wanted to fuck Karen's ass, but now I was so happy that I had.

Once I was spent, I reached forward and uncuffed my sister. I didn't want to pull out; I didn't want our fuck to end. I stayed in until I was flaccid.

As I pulled out, I said, "Well, that was some lesson."

Then something completely unexpected happened; something I absolutely didn't see coming. I hadn't expected Karen and I to have anal sex, but it wasn't a big surprise. This was a big surprise.

Karen said, "Yarn."

I looked at Karen in amazement as she sat up. She said, "That was incredible. I've been imagining for weeks what that was going to be like, and it was better than I imagined." She waved her hand in the direction of the bathroom. "Please go wash yourself with soap and warm water. We'll talk when you get back."

I walked to the bathroom in shock. Karen had never said "yarn". Why would she say it after we had anal sex when I had desperately wanted feedback the whole time we were doing it?

I washed my cock; really, my whole crotch. I didn't know why I was doing it, but I assumed that Karen had done lots of research on anal sex, and it was the right thing to do. Washing myself was also a stalling tactic, to give me time to try to figure out what was going on.

When I came back to the bedroom, the cuffs were gone, and Karen was under a quilt that she had thrown on top of the bed. I could see the top of her tits as she lay there waiting for me. The quilt was one she had made, and each square was different. She lifted up the side of the quilt near me and said, "Get under here. I don't want you getting cold." I slipped under the quilt.

Karen and I faced each other. We were both on our sides, with our heads cradled in one hand. She said, "It amazes me how you always get the most subtle hint. I always felt like I had to hit my boyfriends over the head with a frying pan to get them to take a hint."

"I wasn't expecting what we did, but I loved it. I've always loved how it's never the same with you. Did I hurt you back there?"

"Yes, but that's okay. I loved it; I totally loved it."

How could she love it so much if she didn't get off while we were doing it? That made no sense to me. That was something about the game that had always bothered me. "But I didn't make you come."

Karen smiled as she shook her head. "Okay, pay attention. No guy has ever understood this." She lightly touched one place on the bed with her hand. "I like to have orgasms." She lightly touched another part of the bed. "And I like to have sex with guys." She pulled her hands back. "But those are two very different activities for me. I can only have an orgasm in a quiet room where I know I won't be disturbed. After we played our special game, I'd go upstairs and get myself off. The next morning after everyone had left for work, I'd take a hot bath and get myself off again. For days afterward, I'd float on a cloud of sexual bliss. Then I'd start thinking about what we'd do the next time. Eventually, I had to have my next fix."

I chuckled at that.

Karen continued. "Anticipation is really important to me. I'd spend each Thursday thinking about what would happen when you'd get home. I'd model what I was going to wear in front of the mirror in my bedroom. I'd practice what I was going to say. I'd think of the different places where we could go and pick the one I liked best. When you opened the door on Thursday evenings, every one of my nerve endings was on fire with sexual energy."

I smiled. I was very glad she enjoyed playing the game so much. "Did you ever play the game with anyone else?"

"No. How about you?"

"No. I never got the impression that any girl was interested in doing what we did."

"We stumbled into our special role-playing, and I don't think it would have worked any other way. If we had discussed it beforehand, it would have seemed hokey."

"True."

"Do you remember telling me how you were disappointed that sex at college wasn't as you imagined it?" I nodded. "It was the same way for me. I had imagined that sex at college would be a lot like our special role-playing." A faraway look came over Karen's face. "Once a week, my boyfriend and I would spend a romantic day together; we'd kiss and cuddle in his room, we'd take our clothes off and cuddle some more, and then we'd make love slowly and leisurely." She held that faraway look for a moment.

I said, "But it wasn't that way."

"No," said Karen with her voice full of disappointment. "After the first time we made love, my first boyfriend wanted to have sex every day. I told him I didn't want to do it that often, that I'd prefer once a week. That wasn't acceptable to him; he constantly pressured me for sex." She sighed. "He tried and tried to make me come. He thought that if he could get me to come, then I'd want to have sex more often. After a while, I was like 'Don't even touch me down there.' Then he suggested I was frigid, which really pissed me off. I could come just fine, but only in the right circumstances. And he was doing nothing to help me get there."

"I'm sorry to hear it."

"I broke up with him after he called me frigid. The second boyfriend was much the same. After dating him for a while, I resigned myself to having sex more often than I'd like. To make things worse, he really wanted us to follow this script for what he considered good boyfriend-girlfriend sex. He wanted me to do oral sex on him, then he'd do oral sex on me, and then we'd make love. I was like, 'No, I don't want to do that. Let's just make love.' He never could accept that I didn't want to follow his script. I don't like doing oral sex on a guy."

I was surprised to hear that. "You don't?"

"No, I don't like the taste. It's a lot of work that does nothing for me."

I laughed. "But you seemed to love it with me!"

Karen sighed. "That was very different. You were my partner in mind-blowing sex that was on my schedule. Then you told me you wanted sex more often, but it was my choice what we did. I could do anything, and I could do nothing. So I picked what I thought would work best for us given the constraints. And I enjoyed it because it was my choice. But I don't enjoy it when I'm pressured into it." Then Karen gave me a sly smile. "I'm looking forward to slipping into your bedroom tomorrow night."

I chuckled. "I'll be looking forward to it all day tomorrow."

"Now where was I? Oh yeah, boyfriend number two. After a while, I couldn't take the frustration anymore, and I broke up with him. When I found myself going down the same path with boyfriend number three, I decided to try something different. I started faking orgasms whenever we'd make love. I'd pretend to come whenever he came in me. And that worked great. We'd cuddle and kiss, which I enjoyed. And then we'd make love, which I enjoyed. And afterward, he felt like an awesome stud for fucking me to an orgasm."

This made me uncomfortable. "That wasn't a good thing to do; being dishonest with your boyfriend like that."

"It made the sex better for both of us. Not one time did he express any doubt about me coming exactly as he came in me. It was a fantasy he fully embraced. I did the same thing with boyfriends four and five, and they loved it too."

I realized that Karen had planned this talk for a while, even before she called to suggest I spend Thanksgiving with my parents. But why?

I said, "And the point of all this?"

"I'm getting there. Boyfriend number five really got off on the idea that he could make me come by fucking me. He bragged to me all the time about it. He thought he was a real studmuffin because I faked orgasms for him. Then I thought, 'Why am I doing this? Why do I keep putting up with mediocre sex? Particularly when I know a guy who'll have great sex with me on my schedule?'"

Suddenly, I began to see Karen's point.

She continued, "For over three years, I've lived a normal life at college. I've had normal boyfriends, and I've had a normal sex life. And it's been a huge disappointment to me. I've decided that I've had enough. I arranged for us to be alone tonight, not so we could do our special role-playing again - as much as I loved it - but to ask if you'd be interested in living with me once I graduate from college."

My mouth fell open. I hadn't seen this coming. Did I want to live with my sister? Be her lover not for just a short period, but for the foreseeable future?

I asked, "How would this work? Would we get an apartment together?"

"I was thinking we'd buy a house together, a two-bedroom place. If we pool our inheritances from Grandma, we'd have enough for the down payment."

I nodded my head. "That makes a lot of sense. I hate spending so much on rent and having nothing to show for it. I'm getting tired of apartment life. I've been thinking of buying a place, but I can't afford it on my own. Getting a house with you would seem very reasonable."

"I'd love a small two-story house with the bedrooms on the second floor."

So after we played the game, she could have her quiet time in her bedroom while I was down on the first floor.

Karen lowered her voice conspiratorially, "Grandma once told me that we were her favorite grandchildren and that she hoped the money she'd leave us would get us off to a happy post-college life." Karen winked.

Grandma knew? No, she couldn't have known. Karen and I had been smart and had always acted like normal siblings around anyone else. Nobody knew. And there was no way she could know that Karen and I would decide to get back together after three years of seeing other people. It was just one of those generic well-wishings that Karen was incorrectly interpreting, right? Right?

I decided to change the subject. "Would you do most of the cooking?" I'd love to regularly eat her fantastic cooking.

"We're going to share the housework. If I do most of the cooking, you'll have to do other things to make up for it."

"If you do most of the cooking, I won't complain when you convert the living room into a crafting room."

Karen opened her mouth to agree, and then she closed it again. She finally said, "We'll work out the details later. What I want us to do now is to agree to the idea of living together." I started to open my mouth, but Karen put her finger over it to shush me. "I'll understand if you want to have a girlfriend. All I ask is that you do our special role-playing once a week."

I was very surprised by her last two statements. Did I want to have a girlfriend and secretly have fun with Karen on the side? I turned it over in my mind. It didn't appeal to me. I was a one-woman guy and didn't want to hide things from my girlfriend. What I wanted was Karen and only Karen. "I'd love to live with you. And I want you - and only you - as my girlfriend."

A look of relief came over Karen. "Great!" she said happily. She then grabbed my cock. "I'm going to spend all of winter break at home this year."

I smiled as she stroked my cock. "That sounds good. Maybe I could sleep over here the whole time you're home. You know, being with family is really important to me."

Karen's voice got lower and huskier. "And I'll spend Spring Break at home, getting a feel for the housing market." My cock was expanding rapidly.

"That seems wise."

Karen practically purred, "What would you think of spending occasional weekends during my spring semester in small towns near my school?" My cock was hard and ready for action.

"Towns that have museums with handcrafted items, or shops that sell handcrafted items?"

Karen threw back the quilt while pushing me onto my back. "Towns exactly like that." Karen straddled me, holding my cock so it pointed straight up in the air. "While we're doing yarn time, there's one last thing I want to do. I've always faced away from you when we've made love. I want to make love while I face you."

A warm feeling flowed over me. "I'd like that a lot."

"I think I'm wet enough that I won't need any lube. But we'll need to go slow." Karen guided my cock to her pussy. "Let me do everything at first."

"Sure."

My cock's head was inside of Karen. She exhaled as she slowly impaled herself on the first few inches and then stopped. She said, "I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you. You make sex so memorable."

That brought a smile. Karen lowered herself another inch and stopped. "I love being in charge with you, deciding exactly what we'll do and where. Making every time different." She lowered herself until her crotch was pressed against mine. She leaned back so she was sitting straight up. She looked like a queen. "And we're not going to do anal every time. Okay?"

I smiled. "Okay."

Karen leaned forward. There was a mantle above her bed where she kept her favorite craft projects. She grabbed the mantle with both hands for balance. Karen slowly raised and lowered herself, gently fucking me. Her tits wobbled in a small circle. I reached up and cupped them. "These are so awesome."

Karen chuckled. "Guys," she said in mock disgust. "They always think tits are toys."

I laughed and then played with Karen's right nipple. "They're not?"

Karen dropped her hands down to my shoulders and used her arms to help bounce herself on my cock. "No. They're for feeding babies." A wicked smile came to her face. "And for convincing guys to make babies." She closed her eyes. "This feels so good. Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah!"

I dropped my hands to my side, and we fucked like that for a little while. I loved fucking Karen. She was beautiful, and the sex was uninhibited fun. But it was also special in so many ways. We were forging a deep, private bond; something far deeper than I had ever experienced with any other woman.

Karen reached up and grabbed the mantle again. "Help me, please."

I brought my hands up and gripped her ass. I began pulling and pushing her up and down my cock, making her bounces much bigger. I raised my hips as she came down, slamming my cock into her.

"God, yes," Karen panted. "Fuck me. Fuck me like that."

It was much better fucking her while facing her, getting to see the pleasure on her face. She was enjoying our fuck as much as I was.

At one point, I decided to change the position my hands were in. I let go of Karen's butt and brought my hands in front of Karen. I then grabbed her hands that were on my chest and laced her fingers in mine. Karen leaned forward, pushing my hands into the bed beside my head. She fucked me like that for a while, her tits swinging wildly above my chest. Then she raised my hands so they were straight up from my elbows while shifting so she was sitting straight up. She bounced quickly up and down while moaning, "Oh, Oh, Oh."

The pleasure just kept building. I knew I was going to come soon. I let go of Karen's hands and grabbed her ass again. I bounced her hard while thrusting my hips, slamming my cock as hard as I could into her. I muttered, "Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. I'm getting close."

"Come for me, Mark. Fill me up."

That encouragement drove me over the line. I felt myself coming; sperm exploded out of my balls and into Karen as pleasure swept over me. Karen slowed her bounces as I steadily pumped cum into her. And then she leaned forward, collapsing onto my chest. I wrapped my arms around her.

Karen said, "That was..."

"Perfect. It was perfect to me." I didn't love Karen. Or more correctly, I didn't just love Karen. I had loved her before. I felt like saying I loved Karen was too small, too limiting. Perfect was the only label for our relationship that felt right.

I continued to hold Karen as we slowly caught our breaths. Karen said, "I like this. Maybe tomorrow night when I slip into your room, I'll stay."

"I'd like that." I'd like that a lot. I felt so good to hold her against me.

We stayed like that for a while, enjoying being so close. Karen said in a voice full of emotion, "You're the only guy who's ever truly respected me."

I lightly kissed the top of her head. "How can I not respect someone who's so awesome?" I squeezed her.

We held that position for a few moments more, and then Karen said, "You should go. We'll both need to be downstairs when Mom and Dad get home."

Karen rolled off me, grabbed the towel, and pressed it to her crotch. I grabbed the other end and wiped my crotch. I got dressed as Karen watched me. I sat next to her as I tied my shoes. When I was done, Karen said to me, "You make me very, very happy, Mark."

Karen leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. She had never kissed me on the lips before. The kiss was full of passion and promise. When she pulled away, she gave me a brief smile before saying, "Unyarn."

I jumped off the bed. I turned on Karen with my finger pointing angrily at her. She had her knees pulled up high and her face down. I said loudly, "I hope you've finally learned, Karen. No sister should dress like that around her brother." Karen seemed to shrink as she cowered. "Don't do it again, or I'll really rip you in two."

I stormed over to the table, grabbed my book, stormed out of the room, and slammed the door. In the hallway, I laughed silently. Everything was perfect.

Author's Notes:
* A huge thanks to my editor Tigersman and the others who contributed to this story: haplessfool, footlovin69, TM, Zoomie69, Katie, and AwkwardMD
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