That’s what Big Sisters are For

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Everyone involved is over 18.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” my older sister screamed as she threw open my bedroom door.

As if she really couldn’t tell.

I was lying back on my bed with my boxers around my knees. One hand was holding my iPad in front of my face, the other was on my bare cock. I froze in mid-motion, halfway up the stroke. I didn’t even have time to cover up. A loud groan came from the screen.

“Oh, fuck yes!” it said – the exact opposite of my actual reaction.

My sister, Darcy, stood in the open doorway, her hands on her hips. Face contorted somewhere between anger and opprobrium. She was dressed like she was about to go to work: a pink blouse over a white tank top, and a knee-length black skirt with dark stockings and sharp heels. Darcy’s makeup drew attention to her pink cheeks, thick lips and bright green eyes. Her light brown hair was tied back in a long ponytail.

“Well, Ethan?” Darcy asked. She started to tap her foot.

I took my hand off my dick and turned off the video. I put the iPad down on the bed next to me and drew my boxers back up to my waist. All under my sister’s disapproving glare.

“I was… I mean,” I gestured fruitlessly at my exposed fruit, still quite erect despite my current predicament. I was wearing an old, yellow t-shirt and, now, a pair of tatty blue boxers. My hair, tight brown curls, were in their always uncontrollable state. Like my head was permanently frozen in mid-explosion

“I know what you were doing, E,” Darcy said my nickname like it was a curse word. “I just don’t understand why.”

I had a hard time believing that my older sister didn’t understand my need for self-pleasure. I mean, I was an eighteen-year-old boy – a species best known for its hedonist habits. I spent most of my waking hours working my wiener in all sorts of ways. I doubt I was much different than any other living, breathing male at my age (and probably some dead ones as well). Though she was single at the moment, my sister was no prude. There was no way she was that naive about the inner workings of a teenaged boy.

To be fair, Darcy had been away at college for the last four years, visiting only briefly for holidays. Even summers, she spent out at internships or living with friends. So, I suppose my sister was used to the (relatively) sweet, young boy she’d left behind and not this masculine, masturbating monster.

Darcy, now aged twenty-two, had only been back at the house for a few weeks. After her four years of schooling were over, she’d moved in so she could start her career without worrying about extraneous expenses like rent and food. My parents, hippy-dippy folks who both worked with computers, didn’t understand their daughter’s career-driven lifestyle. But the benefit of people like that is, even if they don’t get it, they’re supportive. Darcy could have taken a decade off to follow the Dead and our parents would have still been encouraging. In fact, they probably would have understood that more

Myself, I was more like my Mom and Dad. High school was over, and I supposed I ought to get a job at some point, but for the moment I was enjoying my newfound freedom. I was a smart kid, good with computers like the ‘rents, and I had a scholarship waiting for me in the fall if I wanted it. But there was a whole summer out there, man, and I wanted to take advantage.

I spent the first few weeks smoking pot, goofing off, and doing, well, this: looking at porn and pulling at my penis. I didn’t have a girlfriend. All my friends were working. Jerking off was the height of entertainment for me at that age.

Meanwhile, even though Darcy was back to living at home, I never saw her. We passed each other at meals, sometimes, but mostly she was like a ghost who’d taken up residence in the spare bedroom. A rumor, but nothing more.

Well, this morning my sister was very much real and staring down at me like she’d caught me red-handed. Which… Yes, OK. She’d done exactly that.

“Admit it, Ethan,” Darcy said. She leaned against the door frame, watching me carefully. Like studying a particularly strange-looking beetle. Masturbationus Coleoptera. “I want to hear you confess to what you were doing.”

I stared back at my sister, eyes goggling. My tongue and jaw worked to move but no sound came out. Only a few strangled susurrations.

Darcy sighed, then stepped into my room. Most of the time, I was sleeping in when she left for work. She must have been running late or something. But Darcy didn’t seem hurried. Instead she casually walked around, looking at my space like seeing it for the first time.

My room was still dressed for high school with light blue walls covered in posters of supercars and superheroes. I had two beat-up, fake-wood dressers. My bed was a tiny twin with Star Wars sheets and a denim comforter. I’d decorated the floor with discarded clothes from over a series of months. There was a small trash can on the side of my bed and it was overflowing with dirty tissues. Darcy’s nose ataşehir escort wrinkled and it occurred to me that my room was probably quite ripe.

Finally, after completing her tour, my sister took a seat down at the edge of the bed. She patted the empty spot next to her.

“Come here, E,” Darcy said.

Warily, I rolled over and sat down next to my sister. When my butt took the spot where Darcy’s hand had been resting, she simply put her palm back in the same place, now resting on my bare, hairy thigh.

My big sister looked me over, but I couldn’t meet her eyes. Instead I stared down at my overlarge, pink feet.

“It’s not right, Ethan,” Darcy said, “What you’re doing to yourself. You know that.”

“Come on Darcy, what’s the big deal?” I said, finally finding my voice. It was whiny and oddly high but at least it was there. “I mean, I’m sorry you caught me and all. I’m sure that was uncomfortable. But everybody does it. Don’t pretend that you don’t.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Darcy said. She slid her hand slightly up my thigh, to the point where her pinky was actually touching the bottom of my boxers. “It’s wrong for you to do that when your big sister is around.”

“I didn’t know you were here,” I said, “Usually you’re at work by now.”

“Hm,” Darcy said, as if considering my argument, “You know what? That’s fair.” Her hand slid up further. Now her pinkie was actually under my boxers. The nail, painted a neon pink like the rest of her fingers, tickled at my shaft. I couldn’t hold back my gasp as my sister’s finger made contact then dragged up and down my cock.

Like I said, I didn’t have a girlfriend. In fact, I’d never had one. There were a few sloppy makeout sessions with Cara O’Brien during summer camp my junior year, but that was the limit of my experience. No one, besides myself (and a physician, probably), had ever touched me below the waist. My sister’s little finger felt fantastic and my cock responded in kind, staggering upward till it poked through the fly hole of my underwear.

I froze. I expected Darcy to recoil. To jump off the bed and start shouting all over again. Instead, she just smiled.

“There’s a good boy,” she said.

My older sister took her hand off my leg. She daintily pulled the hole of my boxers open, allowing my dick to fully pop free. It pulsed in the cold air.

“You shouldn’t be stroking your dick when I’m not around, either,” Darcy said. “In fact, you shouldn’t be stroking it at all. Ever.”

My sister grabbed my shaft and gave it a squeeze. She gathered the loose skin around my dick and dragged it over the circumcised head, slowly teasing, then pulled it back down, taut. She reached into the leg hole of my boxers with her free hand and cupped my balls.

I’m sure all of this sounds hot. My sister sitting on my bed and stroking my cock. But the truth is, it weirded me out. My mind, my heart, was racing. My stomach twisted. Really, my dick was the only one on board with this and he was not an impartial observer.

I just didn’t find my older sister attractive. That’s not to say that she wasn’t good looking. She very much was. Darcy had a thin face with a cute upturned nose and perfect Cupid’s bow lips. Her cheeks dimpled when she smiled. Her brown hair was long and thick and, when it wasn’t tied up, hung all the way to the middle of her back.

And Darcy’s body was, well… I mean, she was a beautiful woman in her early twenties. Darcy was tall and thin with a flat stomach and long legs. She had a perky butt and big breasts – I had no idea the cup size but I could tell by the cleavage in her work outfit that there was a lot there. Darcy always dressed well. Her outfit that day – complimented by her painted nails and diamond stud earrings – was that wonderful mix of professional and sexy.

So objectively, sure, this was a gorgeous woman working me off. But it was also my older sister and I couldn’t get past that. However, when I asked her to stop, Darcy shook her head and kept stroking.

“You have to promise me, E,” Darcy said. “Tell me you’ve learned your lesson.” She rubbed me up and down at that leisurely pace. My breath came out in little gasps and rattles. My body was torn between disgust and desire. What was my sister doing to me?

“You’re a teenaged boy with raging hormones,” Darcy said, “I get that. You probably need to bust a nut at least twice a day, right?”

“Uh huh.” It was usually more than that, but I was lost for words. Darcy rubbed my dick, rhythmic, like rowing a boat. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke.

“But there’s no reason for you to do that to yourself when your big sister is right across the hall and happy to do it for you, right?”

And there it was. Darcy’s mission statement made clear. She wasn’t mad about me masturbating. She was upset that I didn’t let her rub me off, herself. That made so much sense and yet was also completely insane at the same time. Like I wasn’t discombobulated enough already.

“So, from now kadıköy escort bayan on, if you need to empty your balls, just come find me and I’ll do it for you, OK?”

“But Darcy, I mean. Isn’t it, like, wrong?” I asked. I don’t know what I thought would happen if I argued. Like, if I brought up a rational point, did I really think my older sister was going to suddenly stop and remember herself? Yet I continued to debate her. “You’re my sister. We aren’t supposed to do stuff like this.”

“Of course we are,” Darcy said cheerfully, “That’s what big sisters are for. To take care of their little brothers.”

“Darcy, please don’t take this the wrong way. I really really appreciate what you’re doing, and it feels really really good but it’s not right and I don’t like it. Please let’s just stop, OK? I promise you’ll never catch me jerking off again.”

“You’re right I won’t,” Darcy said, “So we’re agreed?” My older sister looked me right in the eyes. She was slightly taller than me, so she had to scrunch down a bit to do it. Her green eyes were gorgeous, whorled with brown, and they seemed to swallow me up in an emerald undertow.


“Like you said, this feels really good. Right Ethan?” Darcy started moving her fist up and down even faster. My body was betraying me. I didn’t want to like this. But I couldn’t stop myself.


“You can have this every day, anytime you want. Just let me take care of you. OK?”

I took a deep breath. I don’t why, but in that moment, I didn’t feel like I had much of an option. It was either agree right then or argue more until I eventually agreed later. So, the choice seemed kind of obvious. “OK.”

Darcy’s face broke into a broad grin. She took her hand off my cock, then spit in her palm. She showed me, like a proud little girl, then draped her drippy hand all over my dick. Then she grabbed me in her slippery grip.

Darcy started stroking me. At first, she used that same slow motion from before, but she gradually gained speed. Every movement made a wet noise, like stirring mac and cheese.

Squick squick squick.

My older sister was jerking me off even better than I could do myself. Just the foreign feeling of a strange hand working me was enough to take it to a new level. But Darcy also knew the exact pace and pressure to drive my pleasure. It was both horrifying and incredible at the same time.

“That feel good?” Darcy asked.

“Uh huh,” I said. It was all I could get out.

Squick. Squick. Squick.

“Of course it does,” Darcy said, almost cooing. She took her other hand out from under my boxers and started to stroke my hair, lovingly.

“Oh God,” I said. A bit of precum leaked out of my cockhead. Darcy gathered it and used it to lubricate me even more. She was pumping me as fast as she could now.

Squick squick squick squick squick.

“You going to shoot for me, little brother?” Darcy asked.

I had been staring down at where my sister’s hand met my dick. Now I turned to look at her face, all screwed up in concentration as she worked me over. She caught me watching and smiled back at me.

“Yes, baby. Do it. It’s alright. Show your big sis what a good boy you are and give me your cum.”

“Ah. Ah. Ah.” It was the only sound I could make. These weak little gasps. Suddenly my cock jerked. My balls jumped upward. The pleasure raced up my shaft and exploded throughout my body.

“Oh!” Darcy cried in surprise as the first thick rope of semen shot out of me. She slowed her strokes, drawing out my orgasm. I spurted again and again. “Oh yes!”

After what felt like minutes of constant cumming, I finally dribbled the last of my spend onto my older sister’s fingers. Darcy patted me on the back with her clean hand. She took the other one and brought it up to her mouth, lightly licking off my spend.

“Thank you, Ethan,” Darcy said. My sister had just jerked me off, tasted my sperm, and now she was thanking me? This morning was only getting stranger.

Darcy stood up and straightened her outfit. “That’ll have to do for now, I’m already running late to work. Remember our agreement, OK?”

Then, as suddenly as she had entered some twenty minutes before, my older sister disappeared from my doorway.


I spent the afternoon in a funk. I sat on the living room couch, streaming Netflix, but nothing caught my interest. I kept having the odd sense that I was forgetting something. That I’d planned something exciting for the day but wasn’t doing it for some reason. Then I remembered what happened that morning and sank deeper into the couch. Not even my afternoon pipeful of weed could perk me back up.

My parents came home, and my Mom made dinner for the three of us. Like me, my Mom and Dad were small, skinny people. Both of them had gone prematurely grey. They were former flower children (albeit born a decade after actual flower children had existed), and they looked it. My Dad had long gray hair tied back escort maltepe in a ponytail. My Mom wore concert t-shirts and hipster glasses.

If Darcy had been at dinner, she would have looked like she was adopted or the mailman’s kid or something. She was the fourth Mendel square, the sum total of all our family’s recessive genes mixed into a singular being.

Where my parents were laid back, Darcy was driven. Mom and Dad were both simple, lunch pail folks who spent more time on their record collection than on getting ahead. Darcy was a true professional, ready for a world of high-powered businesspeople and the fancy toys that came with that. My parents cared about squishy things like feelings. Darcy, obviously, did not.

“You OK?” my Mom asked, “You seem a little down.”

I looked up from where I was chasing my peas around the plate with my fork. “I’m fine,” I said. There was no way I could tell my parents what had happened. It was too embarrassing. Besides, what argument did I have? After all, I got hard when Darcy grabbed me. I came when she stroked me. I was just as guilty as she was.

“Spending all day by yourself at home finally losing some appeal?” my Dad asked.

“Maybe,” I said.

“OK, well you let us know,” Dad said, “This doesn’t have to be your life. That college scholarship is waiting for your signature.” He patted my back warmly, then got up to dig through the freezer for leftovers of my Aunt Penny’s blueberry pie.

“We support you, no matter what you do,” Mom said, “We just know that you can make choices now that will have consequences for the rest of your life. Getting a job, going to college, you don’t have to do both, but you can’t do neither.”

“I know,” I said, but it came out as more like a whine, “Can’t I enjoy a little freedom before then?”

“Of course, dear,” Mom said. She stood up to go help my Dad in the kitchen.

I followed her in, dumped half my dinner in the trash, and then loped upstairs.

I changed into my pajamas and climbed into bed. I tried to read for a bit, but I found I was looking at the same sentence again and again. Finally, I slipped under the covers and curled up, fetal, to fall asleep.


I woke up to the sound of my door opening. My room was dark, but I could see the shadow of my older sister from the light in the hall.

“Hey E,” Darcy said. She sat down on the side of my bed again.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Late,” Darcy said. “I hurried back as soon as I could. I knew that one this morning wasn’t going to be enough. It must have been so hard for you to suffer through the day without your big sis. Well I promise to make it up to you. You did wait for me to take care of you, right?”

“Yes,” I said. I didn’t tell her that I’d actually tried to rub one out in the afternoon and couldn’t, still shaken from what had happened that morning.

“Excellent,” Darcy said and clapped her hands. She started to pull back my covers. When she saw I was wearing pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, she made a little pouty face. “You didn’t give up on me, did you?”

“Honestly, Darcy, I just want to pass out,” I said.

“I know, baby bro, that’s why I hurried back as soon as I could. I knew there was no way you could get to sleep without some release. Jeez, I hope the one will be enough. I don’t think I have the energy for a double tonight. You’ll have to let me make it up to you, OK?”

Darcy pulled at my shoulders until I sat up. I was woozy, and I almost tipped right back over, but she held me there. Then she shot her hand into the fly of my pjs. My dick was curled up in a ball, like a sleepy little mouse.

“Oh, so cute!” Darcy said, “Don’t be ashamed. I know my brother has a big, mean man dick. We just have to wake him up, that’s all.”

Darcy stroked my soft penis up and down. Honestly, she didn’t even need her fist, I was so flaccid she could almost pinch it between her fingers. My cock gave a half-hearted attempt to respond, but the rest of my body was still in control and it didn’t like the idea of my sister doing this to it.

“What’s wrong?” Darcy asked, “You feeling alright?”

“I don’t like doing this with you, Darcy, OK?” I said. “You’re my sister and it weirds me out.”

“You sure didn’t feel that way when you came all over my hand this morning,” Darcy said. She got up from the bed. Then she went over to the wall and flicked on the light. I saw she was wearing her same outfit, but her blouse was unbuttoned halfway, revealing even more of the white cotton of her undershirt.

My older sister caught my eye, looking confused. Then she gave me that face-splitting smile again.

“Oh, I get it,” Darcy said. “Boys all love boobies, don’t you? OK, bro, you’ve ‘tricked’ me into it.” Darcy reached down, unbuttoned the rest of her blouse, and pulled it off. Then she lifted the white tank top over her head. She had on a dark green bra underneath. Her breasts, even bigger than I’d first assumed, seemed to be bursting out.

“Darcy,” I said, “Please don’t.”

“Is that enough?” my older sister asked, “Or do you need to see all of them?” She looked down at my crotch. Sure enough, my traitorous dick was sticking proudly out of the fly, throbbing away. “That’s enough!” she cried, happily.

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