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This is the most personal thing I’ve ever written for Lit. None of this actually happened. But some of it could have.
I could have broken the story into parts, but I felt like leaving it as an epic. So be aware. Also, quick warning, this one dips dangerously close to non-consent. Everyone is over 18 years of age.
The whole idea was to keep us out of trouble.
1996 marked my parents’ 25th anniversary. They wanted to take a week-long trip to celebrate, but they didn’t want us kids along with them. That was fine. But my parents didn’t want to leave my younger sister and I alone in the house, either. I was 19 at the time and Rachel was 18. Did we really need 24-hour supervision?
Our parents thought we did, so they arranged for us to spend the week with family friends. We’d known the Callahans pretty much from birth. We lived in the same tiny town and attended the same church. Our lives ran in the same little circles. Enough to make you dizzy with it. My younger sister, Rachel, was best friends with their daughter – a girl the same age as her, named Lindsay. Lindsay’s older brother, Nick, was the same age as me, too. Nick and I got along fine, I guess.
Four teenagers – two girls and two boys. Cooped up together in the middle of summer with nothing to do. In a tiny house where we’d have to share bedrooms. Where the parents, both of whom worked long hours, were almost never home.
All this in the name of avoiding trouble.
My parents dropped us off at the Callahan’s house with a wave and a few words. Don’t cause any trouble. Andrew, take care of your sister. See you in a week. That sort of thing. Then Rachel and I dragged our bags up the driveway to the house.
The Callahan’s home was built into the side of a steep hill with a driveway that was famous around town for being impossible to park in, let alone to shovel when it snowed. We tromped up, dragging our suitcases behind us like they were body bags.
I looked up at the house, expecting someone to come out and help, but no one did. Especially galling, I saw Lindsay and Nick were watching us from one of the bedroom windows as we struggled up to the front door. I couldn’t help but keep my eyes on Lindsay. It’s fair to say I had a bit of a crush on her.
Lindsay had light blonde hair, straight and thin, that she grew down to the middle of her back. She had an angular face with lips like pink lines, usually curled into a smile. Her body was just as skinny with breasts and a butt that looked like they’d been left behind when she’d hit puberty.
It was funny to me that my sister and Lindsay were best friends, because Rachel was almost the exact opposite of her blonde best friend. Rachel had brown, wavy hair that hung just past her shoulders. Long dark lashes and emerald eyes. But those weren’t the things that most people noticed about her.
I hope I don’t sound like a bad brother when I say that Rachel’s body was the thing boy’s dreams are made of. My sister had curves that seemed made for sex, especially her massive breasts. It was like the titty fairy had gone to Rachel’s bedroom first, gotten tired, and decided that instead of going to Lindsay’s she’d just hit Rachel double and call it good enough.
Not that I ever noticed such things on my sister. Certainly not.
Mr. and Mrs. Callahan were waiting for us at the doorway. They had similar close-cropped haircuts, dark hair with silver threaded through. Both wore blue sweaters and tan slacks. To me, they always seemed a little androgynous.
Very much the opposite of their children, I thought, as the siblings tromped down the stairs to greet us. Despite her lack of prominent features, Lindsay was an apex woman, with deep blue eyes and a face so beautiful it stunned most boys our age to silence. Her brother, Nick, was tall with tight brown curly hair. I knew a lot of the girls at school thought he was, like, to die for.
We’d been in their house plenty of times, but the whole Callahan family still showed us around like we were strangers. We finished the tour by going upstairs. Lindsay led Rachel to her bedroom while Nick took me next door to show me where I’d be sleeping in his.
The rooms were small and similar. They each had thick carpets, dark wood dressers, and little twin beds. What I noticed first, however, was what the rooms were missing: doors.
“We took them out,” Mrs. Callahan said carefully.
“The doors,” I said, feeling a bit stupid.
“Yes,” Mr. Callahan said. I looked at both parents, waiting for an explanation, but no one said anything.
Finally Lindsay, using a voice that I believe was meant to be an imitation of her Mother’s, said, “If we can see what you’re up to, you can’t get into trouble.”
Well that made a certain amount of sense, I supposed. Though how any teenager could properly get along with so little privacy, I hadn’t the slightest idea.
I went into Nick’s room and started to unpack. I unrolled my sleeping bag on the floor near his bed. Carefully hung my clothes in his closet. As I ankara escort did all this, I noticed another consequence of the missing doors: I could hear Rachel and Lindsay talking. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but still. It was like sitting across the room from them, rather than being in two separate ones.
“Walls are thin,” Nick explained, then shrugged. Real talkative guy, that Nick. Explained why we had so little to say to each other.
We sat down to a dinner of overcooked noodles and canned tomato sauce. Nick, as expected, was nearly silent the whole time. Rachel and Lindsay seemed to be in on some secret and would only whisper to each other.
So, the Callahan parents lead most of the conversation. Pedantically – with small words and measured voices – they explained the ground rules for the week. Both parents would be working most of the time, so the four of us were left to our own devices for entertainment during the day. There was a TV room down the hall and we were free to use it if we liked. We could also play in the backyard – a space so tiny there was barely enough room to have a catch. They left money for us to order lunch. That was all.
Looking back, it seems odd to me that we ever listened. It’s not like the Callahans could check on us while they were at work. We could have left in the morning, looted and pillaged every house in the neighborhood and – as long as we were back in the house by the time the parents returned from work – no one would have been the wiser.
I guess that says a lot about us at the time. Rachel and I had strict parents and we were used to obeying everything to the letter. It never occurred to us to do otherwise.
After dinner we all sat around the kitchen table and played Scrabble. I noticed Lindsay kept looking in my direction and smiling, nervously. I didn’t mind it. Like I said, I kind of had a thing for my sister’s friend. I didn’t have a lot of experience with women. Mostly I just watched them from afar which, I know, does not endear you to them. Quite the opposite, sadly.
It was easier for me with Lindsay, probably because I’d known her for so long. She was almost like a sister to me – a sister I could plausibly fuck. So, unlike with Rachel, it was OK for me to fantasize about being with Lindsay. Not that I thought anything would actually ever happen outside the confines of my imagination.
Despite perving on my sister’s friend, I still managed to eradicate everyone in Scrabble (I’ve always been good with words. My vocabulary is both voluminous and multifarious). My dominating victory won me a great honor: I got to put the game away while everyone else loped off to bed. As the family left, I noticed Rachel giving Lindsay a stern look. The tiny blonde nodded slowly, then stayed behind to help. That was my sister: always standing up for me.
We started packing up the game together. So close, I could smell Lindsay’s strawberry shampoo. I got so distracted, I dumped a bunch of tiles on the ground. When I stood back up, letters in hand, Lindsay reached over and touched my bicep.
“Wow, you’re looking really good, Andy,” she said, “The girls must be all over you.”
“Not really,” I said. I had grown into my body more over the past year – filled out. Not that anyone except my sister had noticed until that moment. It was a sore spot and definitely something I didn’t want to discuss with one of the girls I wanted to be all over me.
“Why not?” Lindsay asked, pouting a bit playfully.
“I, um. Well I kind of have trouble talking to girls,” I said.
“You seem to be doing OK right now,” Lindsay said. She smiled and squeezed my arm again.
“You’re different,” I said, meaning that in every way possible, “You’re my sister’s best friend. It’s like I’ve known you forever.”
“Does that mean you don’t think I’m attractive?” Lindsay said. I noticed the way her blonde hair swung as she moved the tiles back into the box. How her little chest jiggled a bit with every sway.
“Oh no,” I said, perhaps too eagerly, “You’re… I mean. I think you’re kind of amazing, Lindsay.”
She smiled at me and tossed her hair. “And your sister, Rachel. What do you think of her? I mean, I know you guys are super close. Kind of like me and Nicky.”
“Oh,” I said, “I mean. Rachel’s cute. I guess. She’s my sister so I don’t really think about it.”
“That’s too bad,” Lindsay said and winked at me. Then she folded up the Scrabble board with a loud snap.
There was one bathroom for all four kids (Mr. and Mrs. Callahan had a private bathroom attached to the master bedroom, but we weren’t allowed to even look in there), so we all took turns getting ready for bed. While I was brushing my teeth, my sister came in and started to wash up.
“Is this OK?” she asked, “I don’t want to interrupt or anything.”
“Of course, Rach, it’s fine. No different than we do at home.”
There were double sinks, so we were able to do our evening ablutions at the same time. I watched surreptitiously as my escort ankara sister washed her hands. Brushed out her thick, brown hair. My sister really was gorgeous. I could admit that to myself, at least. Oh, Lindsay made me hot as hell, but my sister was a knockout with a heart shaped face, thick lips and large, expressive eyes. I knew I should keep my imagination in check about my sister, so instead I let it run wild with Lindsay. It seemed safer at the time.
“You settling in OK, Andrew?” Rachel asked, “I know you and Nick aren’t best friends.”
“I’m OK with Nick,” I said.
“Good,” Rachel said, “I know you get nervous with social stuff sometimes.”
“Thanks for the advice, Ms. Outgoing,” I said.
“It’s different for me,” Rachel said, “I know Lindsay. I trust her. I don’t want things to be weird for you this week, that’s all.”
“Why would they be weird?”
Rachel started to speak, but then shrugged. She leaned over, kissed me on the cheek, then left the bathroom.
Nick and I went to bed with little more than a shared goodnight grunt. His parents glided by the open entryway, and then the house went dark.
I felt tired. My body told me I was exhausted. My legs ached for sleep. But the floor was hard – the sleeping bag felt thin and cold – and Nick made weird snorting noises in his sleep. I found myself staring at the ceiling, watching the hours roll by. Then I heard voices coming from the girls’ room. As before, I could hear them talking, but understanding what they said was another story.
Careful to stay quiet, I rolled out of my sleeping bag and then crawled out to the hallway. I stayed low to the floor, imagining I was somehow more silent on all fours. The hallway was dark. The carpet scratched at my knees. I tilted my head toward the open doorway.
“… no, never…” That was my sister talking. I still couldn’t make much out. I crawled out a bit further. Stood up and leaned back like I was some super spy in a tuxedo instead of a kid in his plaid pj pants. I couldn’t see anything, but now I could hear quite clearly.
“I don’t care what you think,” Lindsay said, clearing her throat, “Your brother is soooooo hot.”
Holy fuck! My breath caught in my throat while my cock nearly rocketed right out of my pants. I thought about busting in right then. I could only stand frozen in the hallway.
“He’s my brother,” Rachel said, “I don’t get to have an opinion.”
I pictured the both of them in sexy, see-through nighties, sitting on the floor and lightly touching each other while they talked. It was ludicrous – I knew Rachel’s pajamas were heavy and all-covering and Lindsay’s were similarly conservative – but I wasn’t going to let that get in the way of a fun fantasy. The benefit of not being able to see: I could imagine whatever I wished.
“You can’t tell me you don’t notice,” Lindsay said, “You’re his sister, you’re not blind. I mean, take Nick. You think he’s cute, right?”
“Oh yes,” Rachel said, “Everyone at school says so.”
“You think I don’t think about him sometimes? I mean, he’s so tall and strong. And those big brown eyes. My big brother is definitely do-able. Don’t you feel the same way about Andy?”
“I mean, Andrew’s super cute. But ‘do-able?’ I don’t know.”
“Well I do know and I’m telling you, he is. What’s his dick like? Is it awesome? I bet it’s awesome.”
“Lindsay! I don’t… I’ve never looked or anything. Come on! Are you saying you’ve seen Nick’s?”
“Hell yes I have. Like when he’s getting dressed for school or whatever. This whole open door thing has its benefits.”
I smiled to myself out in the hallway. It definitely did.
“And? What was it like?” I could hear the anticipation leaking into Rachel’s voice. Sneaking out despite her best intentions.
“Well I don’t have anything to compare it to,” Lindsay said. “But it looked pretty nice. All purple and long with a big circumcised head. I bet Andy’s is even better.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Rachel said, primly, “Wait. The open door thing. Does that mean Nick’s seen you…”
“Pfffffft. Like I’ve got anything to look at.”
“Oh come on, Lindsay that’s not true.”
They started giving each other compliments. You’re beautiful, no you’re beautiful. That kind of thing. The urge to bust in and scream ‘You’re both beautiful!’ It was almost too much for me. The conversation got more boring from there. Once I was no longer the lead topic, I wasn’t all that interested. Eventually the girls got bored, as well, and settled down for sleep.
With nothing left to listen to, I decided I should try to do the same. I climbed into my sleeping bag but their whole conversation kept racing through my head and, worse, my erection was still pushing down my pant leg. If anything, it had somehow stiffened more since I got back to the bedroom. It was keeping me up and I didn’t know exactly what to do about it.
Ordinarily I’d have just rubbed one out. But I wasn’t alone. I was in the same room as Nick and if he so much as suspected I might ankara escort bayan be doing such a thing… The thought was almost enough to make my penis go back to flaccid.
So I forced myself to endure and, eventually, I guess I fell asleep.
When I woke up in the morning, Lindsay and Nick’s parents were already gone. We got dressed and then had cereal downstairs in the kitchen. I kept looking over at Lindsay. Knowing what she’d said the night before, I couldn’t help but be entranced.
But all the skinny blonde did was give me a dirty look and then go back to her cereal. Like I said, I didn’t really get girls. I just figured that maybe she’d changed her mind. Or that it had all been idle chatter that meant nothing in reality. I don’t know what I thought, honestly. My dick was harder than ever and there was my dream girl sitting across from me and I just knew my congenital shyness was going to screw me out of screwing around with her.
After we ate, we found ourselves staring at each other around the kitchen table, blankly. We had a week to kill and already, on the very first day, we’d run out of things to do.
“Let’s watch a movie,” Nick said.
We all decamped from the kitchen and walked back to the Callahan’s family room. It was a new addition to the house, fairly obvious from the cleaner carpets and updated furniture. Against the far wall sat the biggest TV I’d ever seen in my life. A whole 42 inches – a big deal in those days.
My parents and the Callahans were pretty similar. That’s why they were good friends. But there was one major difference between the two families: my father didn’t like movies and hated TV. A good book was all my father ever asked for from life. Preferably something non-fiction about a war that occurred right before human beings invented the spear.
Mr. Callahan, on the other hand, was a movie fanatic. The family room was wall-to-wall films, all carefully organized and alphabetized. He had a few DVDs, but mostly it was still VHS. Video tapes. There were titles on the wall that I’d watched with Rachel and my family before, plus probably hundreds more I’d never even heard of. Suddenly, the next week became very clear and not at all undesirable. I was going to watch every movie I could for as long as possible. This was going to be awesome!
Rachel found a Disney movie she liked and suggested we watch that, but she was quickly overruled by the rest of us. Instead, Nick suggested we christen our newfound media freedom with something much racier: Terminator. I’d never seen it, but the bad-ass dude on the box was enough to convince me.
Nick started setting up the room for the movie – adjusting the television settings, powering up the sound system, etc. I went to sit down and I realized that the Callahans’ movie room had one other odd quirk.
Rather than set up the seats so they faced the TV, the Callahans had two couches that ran lengthwise on either side of the room, so that you could lie down and face the television. Apparently, this was Mr. Callahan’s preferred way of viewing his movies – recumbent with only his feet to block his view of the screen.
This was fine, I suppose, if you only had two people watching TV at a time. But it made for an awkward seating arrangement for the four of us.
“How do you do it?” I asked.
“Usually Dad watches these things by himself,” Lindsay said and shrugged, “Mom doesn’t really like movies. When Nick and I watch, we each take a couch.”
“Andrew and I can sit on the floor, I guess,” Rachel said.
“Nonsense,” Lindsay said, “We can all sit next to each other on the couches.”
“I’m not cuddling with Andrew,” Nick said, face still buried in the VCR. Apparently setting up a movie in their house was only slightly less complicated than travelling through time.
“OK,” Lindsay said, “Well each boy will get their own couch and we girls can lie next to our brothers.” She said this with a kind of finality, like it was the only option, and we were fools to even consider anything else.
Lindsay went over and drew the blinds, making the room almost totally dark despite the bright summer sun outside. Nick finished with the system, grabbed the remotes, and flopped down on the left side couch. I lay back on the right. The sofa wasn’t really all that wide, so Rachel was forced to sort of spoon against my side. I saw Lindsay doing the same over on Nick, with far less complaint.
“Comfortable?” I asked Rachel.
“Not really,” she said. I felt bad. Tried to move around. But it really wasn’t good. The best we could manage had my sister resting her head on my shoulder, her hands on my stomach, and her legs wrapped around mine. Almost like a lover’s.
I looked over at Lindsay and Nick. They were almost in the same exact position, but they made it look comfortable. Nick held out the remote and started the film. I felt my heart thump in my chest. The movie on the screen, the beautiful woman pressed against me. Her massive tits pressed warm and soft into my side. I couldn’t tell my body that it was my sister, it just responded. I felt my dick grow harder. Amazing, considering where it had already been before we lay down. I hoped to God that my sister didn’t look at my crotch. She probably could have used my dong to tell time.
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