The Missing Piece - Ch. 03

This is a very slow-burn story with a softer-than-soft-femdom sort of vibe. I hope you enjoy! Whether you do or don't, I always appreciate feedback about what worked and what didn't (: All characters are over 18.

***

Charlie was already out of the house by the time I woke up the next day, so I luckily didn't have to see her and pretend nothing had changed in front of our parents. Instead, I spent the day playing video games, but really was just thinking about what had happened.

My sister had given me a handjob. And I fucking loved it. It was the most intense experience I'd ever, well, experienced.

I guess that's why I had such strong feelings at the end, I thought to myself. Why do you always have to act like such a little kid. You're 18 for Pete's sake! If you lived in West Virginia, you'd probably be a grandfather by now!

I let out a sigh.

Just stop thinking so much and enjoy that the sexiest woman you've ever been around TOUCHED YOUR DICK AND MADE YOU CUM.

I admitted to myself that this was extremely sound advice. But... I couldn't let go of the feeling that that's not all that had made it so exciting. As much as I relived Charlie's hand furiously stroking me, it was the feeling of her arms around me, of her low, even voice against my ear, and the way her eyes lit up while she looked at me -- those were the things my mind drifted back to when I wasn't keeping it on track.

By the time she arrived home that evening from wherever she'd spent her day, I was determined to actually play it cool this time during puzzle time.

As I entered the living room, I took stock of Charlie's outfit, as usual. She was wearing some kind of workout shorts with the tanktop and sports bra again. Maybe even the same ones. Hey if it ain't broke, right?

I sipped from the token glass of water that I pretended had been the reason I was downstairs and sidled over to my sister. She was looking down at the puzzle, which she appeared to have made some progress on. The edge pieces were all in place, and the picture was starting to take shape. But Charlie was staring blankly at it, mindlessly turning a puzzle piece over and over between her fingers.

"How's it going?" I asked.

She gave a grunt that was caveman for "meh" without turning to look at me.

I guess we aren't going to make a big deal out of last night, then. That was fine by me -- I was Cool Danny, after all. Nothing to make a big deal out of! I just sipped in silence and drank in my sister's body.

Before I could lose myself in her lines and subtle curves too much, she spoke, softly, without turning to look at me.

"I keep wondering, how do they decide where to cut the puzzle apart?"

She let the question hang, as if I was supposed to give an answer. I gave only a shrug, unsure if she even saw it. She continued either way.

"Like, if you know what you're looking for, can you look at something and know, like, just how it's going to shatter? Where the fault lines are? How many pieces you'd need to put it back together? Is there some guy who works for the puzzle company and sits in a room all day deciding what each piece should be shaped like?"

"... Huh?"

She kept talking, looking at the top of the puzzle box now, tracing her finger along a plank on the bridge. I was listening still to whatever it was she was trying to say, but my gaze drifted lower, and lower, and lower. Her legs just seemed to go on forever -- smooth and toned and just begging to be touched.

"Or, is there a pattern to it?" I heard her say, as I began fantasizing about granting her legs their wish, how her skin would feel on my fingers, on my cheek, on my lips. "Some formula so that anybody could do it?"

She turned to me now, but I was a beat too late, tardy in flicking my eyes up to hers to see that she had noticed where my attention was. Heat rushed into my cheeks, and her expression changed, the corners of her mouth tugging themselves into a faintly amused smile -- something I was far more used to seeing from Charlie.

"You really do like my legs, huh," she said, with a bemused tone to match. Makeup-less, her face looked tired, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, save for a few wild strands that refused to cooperate. Her eyes were alight with playfulness, though, and now seemed as warm and inviting as her legs.

I tried to shrug it off, to play it cool, just like I'd practiced in my head.

"Yeah," I said, with a literal shrug. "You have nice legs, not gonna lie."

Nailed it!

She gave a little snort and smiled wider, ruffling my hair, as if I'd said something adorable. I frowned.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," she said, dropping the puzzle piece to the table with the rest of the pile and brushing past me. She turned and looked at me, seeming to mull something over in her head. Then she motioned with her pointer finger, a gesture that could only mean "come with me."

I almost dropped the glass. I gulped, and, stupidly, looked around, as if there were someone else she could be gesturing to.

Charlie winced, laughing softly.

"Yes, you, doofus. Sheesh. Can't even let a girl be sexy and mysterious, can you." She rolled her eyes but was smiling, and disappeared through the doorway and up the stairs.

I stood rooted to the spot.

Should I take the glass? What if I get thirsty? But what if I drink too much? OMG, what if I have to pee while we're in the bathroom?? Can I just do it there? It is a bathroom, after all. But I don't think I could pee in front of her--

I shook my head and snapped myself out of it, putting the glass down on the table with a little bit too much force as I worked up my nerve. I was not going to miss this opportunity.

I marched up the stairs, determined.

My smoking hot sister wanted me to think she was sexy and mysterious. And she is! What would be awaiting me in the bathroom? Would she be in her underwear? Would she be naked?? In the shower? Were we going to shower together??

I felt my cock twitch at the possibilities as I got to the top of the steps and turned to the bathroom, the light leaking out from the half-closed door -- no, half-open door, I thought to myself with an optimistic grin.

I pushed it open and...

The room was empty.

My face fell alongside the shrinking protrusion formerly known as my boner.

How could I be so stupid. Of course she was fucking with me. What kind of a sister would invite her horny, awkward little brother to the bathroom?

I covered my face in my hands, feeling like an idiot.

How fucking horny do you have to be to be standing in a bathroom after midnight because you thought your hot big sister wanted to... what? Show off for you?

I turned, shaking my head at my idiotic naivete as I looked at my bare feet in shame, reaching for the light switch on the way out.

And nearly ran into my sister.

"Whoa," Charlie said, putting a hand on my chest to stop us from colliding. "Where are you going?"

I looked up at her cocked head, a questioning smile on her face.

I beamed. I couldn't help it.

She smiled back wider.

"I... I don't know," I said, sounding never more delighted at not knowing something, and let her gently push me back into the bathroom.

As she closed the door behind us, I noticed she was holding a few dresses on hangers. I grinned even wider.

My sister did call me to the bathroom after midnight to show off for me! Of course she did!

She pointed to the toilet, and I took my seat on the lid, still grinning stupidly and sheepishly.

"Did you think I left?" She looked at me with a pitying smile while she hung the dresses up on a hook.

I blushed. "I mean...."

She took a couple steps toward me and ruffled my hair again. Like I was 10.

"Aww, poor Danny. I wouldn't do that to you, kiddo."

Maybe this isn't going to be the sexy strip show I was hoping for....

Then she took off her ratty old tanktop, leaving just the sports bra on her torso. I marveled at the subtle definition of the muscles on her arms, at how her belly button looked so perfectly indented into her flat stomach. She seemed so nonchalant about it, practically humming tunelessly, no idea what a woman like her looked like to a guy like me.

Charlie took the first dress off the hanger, a midnight blue that was silky looking. She pulled it over her head and smoothed it out. It was a little longer than the green dress from the night before, but still didn't reach her knees. It was stylish and classy, although I didn't have any kind of fashion sense to back that up. She adjusted the straps over her shoulders, and did a slow twirl with her arms out in an exaggerated spin to show off the back side. It clung to her little butt in a way that I was jealous of.

When she completed her spin, she looked at me expectantly.

"Well? How's it stack up to yesterday's?"

I gave this some serious thought, which Charlie seemed to find amusing, although she didn't say anything to interrupt me.

"I still prefer the green one, but this one is really gorgeous. Maybe something you'd wear to like, something classier than some nightclub," I said, as if I frequented such places often.

Charlie snorted, which was not really something that women who wore those dresses probably did, I thought. "Look at you, fashion advisor to the stars!"

While she prepared another dress, I asked, tentatively, not wanting her to wake up from whatever spell had compelled her to put on this impromptu fashion show, "So... Charlie... not that I'm complaining but...."

She turned to me and lifted the dress over her head, exposing her stretched midriff before hanging it back on the hanger.

"Why am I putting on a late-night fashion show in the bathroom for my little brother?" she finished for me.

I nodded.

She stopped taking the dress down from the hook, and leaned her backside against the counter across from me. As she let out a long sigh, I surveyed her body closely, fascinated by how even run-of-the-mill, everyday things like sighing looked so different when done by a sexy woman in a tight sports bra and shorts.

Charlie paused for maybe 30 seconds, looking at something I couldn't see, and I was worried I'd ruined what was shaping up to be the best night of my young life -- which would've been quite the coup, given the night before.

"Do you remember when we were younger," she began, slowly turning to me, "and Mom and Dad got us a goldfish?"

I nodded again, not sure what this had to do with my sister taking off her clothes in front of me. She continued.

"It was really exciting... for like two weeks. And then you start to realize, 'Hey, what the fuck did I get duped into here?'" she said, with more venom than I felt our dearly departed family goldfish deserved. "Sure, it was fun for a little bit, because, hey! We have a fish! Cool! Look at her swim around in her little bowl! And watch! When we feed her --" she mimed dropping little food pellets into an imaginary fish tank -- "her little fish lips gulp it down!"

She acted out that part herself too, squeezing in her cheeks and puffing out her lips into an exaggerated, fishy-looking pout. I thought this was pretty funny, but she didn't seem like she was making a joke at all. She just sighed again, looking back at that spot on the wall that held something far more fascinating for her than it did for me.

"But then, after that, it's the same thing. A couple weeks later, you're changing the water because if you don't, the fish'll die. And you're feeding her because, if you don't, the fish'll die. And if you feed her too much?" she looked at me with a cynical exasperation, waving her arms. "Guess what? The fish'll fucking die."

All trace of the playfulness that had been on her face a few minutes ago was gone, replaced by the fatigue that had hung over her at the puzzle table earlier.

"And then you're like, 'wait, what the fuck am I getting out of this?'" she said, frustration palpable as she began to pace in front of me. "It's not like Goldie does any tricks or anything. Does she even know her name is Goldie? No. Does she know who the fuck you are? No. Does she show you any gratitude? Any love? Anything? No, no and no.

"She just fucking swims around in her own filth until you clean it up again, because that's just how your fucking relationship works."

She had an edge to her voice now that made me uncomfortable, her arms crossed, leaning back against the counter again on the opposite side of where she'd started, staring off at a different spot on the wall.

It was silent for a few moments as she stewed, and I studied her face. She was simmering, her eyes burning so hot they looked like they would water from condensation any second.

I cleared my throat.

"Umm, it was actually 'Sonja,'" I said, quietly. But I couldn't let it pass.

She looked at me sharply, and with such a start that it seemed like she'd forgotten I was there in the bathroom with her at all.

"Our goldfish's name," I repeated, trying to lighten things up. "Her name was Sonja, not Goldie."

Charlie looked at me blankly, then I saw her eyes soften, her brow unfurrowed, and a smile crept across her face. She stepped toward me and ruffled my hair again, then kissed the top of my head.

She knelt and held my face in her hands, which felt bigger than they looked as she clutched my cheeks, and the glowing green of her eyes burrowed into mine, inches away.

"You're right little brother," she said -- quieter, more in control than she had been.

She moved toward the shower and turned on the water, speaking again, wistfully this time.

"So, after having a goldfish, you're eventually like, 'you know what I want? A puppy,'" she said, turning back toward me as the steady shhhhhhhh of the shower started. She flicked a wet hand in my direction, scattering a few droplets of water on me to make me flinch, which she found appropriately amusing.

As she kept talking, she took off her shorts, revealing a set of comfortable black panties underneath. I couldn't help but sit up a little straighter. Is she going to take everything off? Does she want me to keep watching?

"A puppy, you can train to do things. Not like a goldfish," she said, stepping out of her shorts and tossing them to the side. "And he's happy to see you! So even though he relies on you completely, you still get something out of it, ya know?"

My sister stood in front of me in her black sports bra and black panties, her tanned skin making the black pop even more and vice versa. I could feel the little guy between my legs starting to react. I looked down, trying not to let it grow more by staring too overtly at Charlie's body.

But she crouched down in front of me, face to face again, and put her hand under my chin to force eye contact.

"Hey, you can look," she said gently. "Remember?"

I struggled to meet her gaze, but she was giving me that inviting smile again, and I slowly nodded and did as I was told. She locked eyes with me, wearing an approving look -- I think -- then seemed to catch herself before standing back up. Her smile shifted slightly, a little more lopsided, more like the mischievous sister I was used to seeing.

She stood and she very slowly spun in a circle, watching me to make sure I kept my eyes locked on her as instructed. Keeping my eyes on her was the easy part. Keeping my boner under control... that was a little more difficult.

"A puppy," she continued as she turned, "well, a puppy is delighted when you feed him, delighted when you tell him what to do, where to go, where not to go -- he's just delighted that you're giving him any kind of attention at all.

"He lives for it."

She began reaching behind her back and undoing her bra, and I leaned forward in anticipation as she moved her hands to catch the cups.

"Oh sure, he'll put his tail between his legs when you get angry with him, but he's just a few head pats and a thrown ball away from wagging away again" -- she acted this out with her own tail, bending over and shaking her tight little butt in my face almost absent-mindedly while her bra dropped to the floor -- "completely oblivious to anything about you -- whether you're having a good day or bad, whether you're hot or ugly, whether you're an asshole or a saint.

"As long as he gets a little something from you, the center of his universe, the dumb little bastard is having the time of his goddamn fucking life -- and has you to thank."

She turned back to me now, her breasts in full view. They were as perfect as I'd imagined, round little globes that hung tightly to her chest with small, darker nipples that stirred an urge in me. They poked out easily from her trim chest without so much as a tan line on them, not drooping even a little. I was sure I was salivating, but didn't care.

Charlie didn't seem to care either, although her look was far away, not the typical amusement I'd expected. It took her a moment to even look like she noticed me, then the cockeyed smile flashed back to her face and she noticed my hungry gaping.

"Your first boobs?"

I blushed. "Yeah."

"Well, I'll have to tell Francine Carmichael she's gotta quit being such a prude!"

"Hardy har har."

She stuck her tongue out, amused with herself.

"Okay, come here," she said, pointing to a spot in front of her. "Kneel."

I cocked my eyebrow. Was this some kind of power thing? A... BMDS thing or whatever? I wasn't really into that kind of stuff. At least, I didn't think so. But I got up, my nervousness showing, and did as I was told, kneeling on the carpet in the cramped bathroom right in front of my sister.

She looked down at me from her slight frame, but appeared a foot taller from where I was kneeling, gazing up her sinewy thighs at her stunning body, lit brightly in the light. Flecks of water from the shower next to us sprayed on me and dotted the side of her smooth skin.

"Good boy," she said, spreading her fingers through the mop of hair on my head, a combination of ruffling and petting.

Why does it make my cock jump when she says that?

Tucked under her right breast, I noticed a little dark mole, a feature that only those -- like me -- who've seen her topless would ever know was there.

We should start a club, I mused to myself, the Mole Club. No. That's dumb. The... Mole High Club? Does that mean anything? No.... Maybe... Mole Men! Ok, anything about moles is gonna sound dumb--

Her next words mercifully halted my stupid, racing thoughts in their tracks.

"Now take my panties off, Daniel," she said in that low tone that I'd come to crave. I looked up at her to make sure I'd heard right -- her face showed only gentle encouragement, like she was getting me to trust I wouldn't fall down without training wheels.

Only a thin layer of panties and a few inches of air separated my face from my sister's pussy. A sliver of light peeked out from between her beautiful, creamy thighs, not quite touching even as she stood with her legs shoulder-length apart.

I leaned in and held my breath, my trembling hands slowly sliding her dark underwear down her soft, pale thighs. The panties quickly dropped of their own accord, and she stepped out of them, leaving her completely naked in front of me.

I'm not sure if I moaned out loud, but I could hear myself in my mind. Her mound was shaved, adding to her incredible, smooth look. And her thighs had never seemed sexier, now able to show how they smoothly morphed into the bones of her hips.

My sister was a work of art, even sexier and more beautiful than I'd imagined late at night in my bed. I eagerly took in every inch of her, happy if I went blind right in that moment. I had never seen a woman in person who wasn't wearing anything at all, but here was my sister with her perfect body bare just inches from me. I stared from her hardening nipples down to where her trim torso cut into narrow hips, down to her legs that looked even more disproportionately long for her body without clothes on.

When she'd been wearing a bra and panties, she'd looked athletic and toned. But somehow, now, wearing nothing as I looked up at her -- slack-jawed -- she looked even more powerful. Not that she had ripped abs or anything, just that every part of her seemed so... taut, like a coil full of energy, ready to be released on command. Her command.

We made eye contact, her face peering down from between her breasts at me below her, and she smiled that amused and yet reassuring smile of hers that made me feel both patronized and eager for more. My attention returned to her pussy, the first I'd ever seen. I leaned in a little bit to inspect it closely, and her hand gently, but firmly, took hold of my hair as a warning not to get too close. But she didn't push me back.

As closely as I could, I examined the shape from every angle, the folds, how it got pinker closer to the center, how it glistened in the warm lighting. I didn't know if I could really smell her scent, but I told myself I could. I'd never been drunk before, but figured this must be what it was like: intoxicating.

"Wow," I must've muttered out loud, because she snorted.

"No, you can't take it to health class for show-and-tell," she said, tugging at me to tell me to get up.

"But..." I protested, obvious in what I wanted, but slowly rising anyway.

She laughed.

"Your guest membership does not come with the buffet, sorry little bro."

Gently, she cupped a hand to my cheek, keeping her soothing green eyes locked to mine. I felt like I was taking in too much oxygen, or not enough, and I couldn't help but lean into her palm, pressing my cheek against her soft touch. It made me feel grounded.

Charlie and I had never really had a contentious relationship. But we'd also never been particularly close, either. After yesterday, this was the most caring gesture I think my sister had ever made toward me -- physically at least.

I'd never felt more... important.

Involuntarily, my eyes closed, reveling in her touch and the moment, the gentle sound of the shower giving it all a spellbinding, dreamlike quality. Her palm felt soft and just a little bit cooler than my cheek, her thumb gently caressing back and forth. It was the most intimate contact I'd ever had, different and somehow infinitely more exciting than the few hasty makeouts I'd had with Francine.

Coming from Charlie -- my sarcastic, worldly, impossibly beautiful older sister -- it felt even softer, even more caring. A level of affection we'd never shared before.

All from a simple hand on my cheek.

Maybe she cares about me more than I thought, I found myself wondering in those two or three seconds that my mind turned into minutes. Maybe....

"Daniel, all this talk about puppies... I've come to realize something," she said quietly. I didn't open my eyes, still soaking in the unexpected affection from her and trying to process what that meant.

Then I heard her sniff the air dramatically and deliver her conclusion.

"You smell like wet dog."

My eyes snapped open as she slapped my cheek -- so light that it was clearly meant only to wake me up and nothing else. But I yelped anyway from the shock, miffed that she'd so crassly broken the spell.

She shushed me in between heaves of that infectious laugh she seemed to save only for when the joke was on me, throwing her head back and bracing herself against the counter as she regained her composure after yet another of her hilarious jokes.

I could only be so angry since she was still naked, and I studied the way every unladylike guffaw rippled through her toned body, every muscle that flexed and relaxed, and the way her pelvis arched toward me as she leaned back into the counter.

My cheeks burned and I did my best to look like I was mockingly stewing at her little joke -- which wasn't too difficult because I was feeling like an idiot. I'm such a fucking lonely loser that I could probably convince myself Sonja was in love with me too....

"Seriously though, you do smell," she said, coming down from her laughing fit.

Suddenly self-conscious, I tried to surreptitiously raise an arm and get a whiff of myself, but could only recognize that unknowable flower Charlie seemed to always smell like, the scent still lingering in the air. She hadn't smelled that way downstairs, I realized.

Did she put that on in her room just for me...?

In the meantime, Charlie stepped into the shower, the water pouring down her body and matting her black hair to her back. My eyes widened and my thoughts ground to a halt.

"Come on, you need a shower," she said with a wink.

Then I realized what needed to happen next. Without hesitation, I stripped off my shirt and shorts and threw them to the side, leaving me in my underwear... which now gave me unexpected pause.

Standing there in my boxers, I was suddenly acutely aware that I'd never been completely naked in front of a girl before. I looked down and confirmed that I still had the body of an 18-year-old nerdy virgin: pale, devoid of muscle and with scattered hairs confined to sparse, sprouting clusters at my nipples, under my arms and between my legs. And, of course, the most important measuring stick wasn't all that impressive either, I knew.

Is she going to laugh at me? Pity me? Which would be worse?

I knew the thought was silly because she'd just touched me the night before. She already knew what kind of body I had. Still... I hadn't been standing in front of her, completely exposed, yesterday. There was something different about getting completely naked in front of someone else for the first time.

She must've seen my abrupt anxiety, but she didn't say anything, just let me take my time. I took a deep breath and lowered my boxers, letting my penis spring out, still a little erect despite Charlie's mood-killing joke.

"Aw, hello little fella," Charlie said in a goofy voice and with a little wave to my cock.

I reflexively covered myself with my hands, and felt that whatever boner had been there had disappeared.

"Oh, hey, I didn't mean it like that, really, Danny," she said, so genuinely that it made me feel even more like a little kid -- a kid she thought needed to be coddled to protect his feelings. Ugh. "Come here."

Quit being such a little pussy and get in the shower with the sexy beautiful woman, dammit!

I marshaled my wits and stepped into the shower, and Charlie reached past me to shut the glass door behind me. Steam filled around us and she made room for me to get under the showerhead.

With a smile, she dunked my head under the spray, making sure I was wet all over. I closed my eyes and let it relax me. The sound of the showerhead and the small space made it feel like nothing else in the world existed -- just me and Charlie in a cozy cocoon.

Without much room, our bodies were in contact constantly. Or maybe she just made sure that we were, I don't know. She pressed herself to different parts of me -- never the part I most wanted pressed, though -- and found excuses for her hands to roam around my body, seemingly luxuriating in the hot water pouring over me. It was almost an overwhelming feeling, not necessarily sexual -- but then, it definitely was making my cock forget how embarrassed it had been just a minute or two before.

There was nothing embarrassing in here. It was too warm, too inviting, and Charlie never stopped touching me, petting me almost.

She hadn't said a word, but how gentle she was being said more to me than words could have anyway. My sister was a lot of things, but gentle usually wasn't one of them. She was going out of her way to be caring. For me. It made my heart swell -- and other parts of me, too.

Why does that turn me on so much?

I heard the snap of a bottle and my eyes opened to see Charlie rubbing her hands together, liquid soap between them now. She stepped even closer to me and motioned for me to turn around. I did as I was told and I felt her hands gently moving over every inch of my body. They felt big on my narrow back, gently rubbing the soap in small circles. She didn't stop at my butt, giving it a playful little slap that made me smile, then chasing it with a soft kiss that sent odd sensations coursing through me.

She rose again and pulled me lightly by the hips to turn me to face her. Her incandescent green eyes gleamed mischievously back at me through the warm water spraying down between us, their glowing heat seeming to cause all the steam by themselves.

To my surprise, I felt her hand on the back of my neck, gently pulling me toward her, and our lips made contact. I didn't know how to react as she parted my lips, exploring inside my mouth, her tongue playing with mine. She adjusted and kissed me deeper, and my hands found their way to her hips. She broke the kiss when the tip of my rising cock poked lightly against her, and she gave what was as close to a little giggle as my kickboxing big sister would ever be likely to give.

"You're doing great, Daniel," she said to me in a low tone under the shhhhh of the shower, holding my cheeks in her hands. Then she started to soap up the front of my body, starting with my chest.

"You have such a beautiful body, you know that?" she said to me as she worked the soap into my ribs. She certainly seemed to be taking her time with it, maybe even enjoying it.

I looked down at her quizzically, ready for the punchline.

"Really," she said, looking up to see my reaction as she proceeded lower. "It's nice and smooth, not gross and hairy. Almost like a --" she stopped herself before whatever she was going to say and washed the soap off me, helping it along with her hand. My cock grew with every little circle she made, but there was something even sexier about the fact that she didn't seem to care or acknowledge it. Something more intimate was happening.

When I was clean enough for her satisfaction, she rose back up to hold my gaze, her eyes beaming as they burrowed into mine, the steady stream of water still hot as it pinned her hair to her face. I boldly used a finger to move it behind her ear and she snorted.

"Look at you, ladykiller," she winked. "You're gonna have to beat off a whole gaggle of college girls who wanna... well, beat you off."

She gave me a goofy grin at her own pun, her eyes dancing with delight, and even I smiled at her stupid wordplay.

I wished I could've frozen the moment forever, my sister standing naked there, inches from me in the shower, her arms draped over my shoulders as we gazed at each other without a word. I took in every detail of how beautiful she looked underneath the water, how her skin shimmered and flushed in the hot spray, and how her inviting smile made it seem like the moment could really last forever if we wanted it to.

She had other ideas. Charlie leaned in as if she were going to kiss me again, but she didn't go for my mouth. Instead her lips softly caressed my neck, and her head pushed my chin up to make more room for her to trace her kisses to my collarbone.

As she did, she moved me to underneath the showerhead and pushed me into the wall, kissing down my chest, her hands running all over me. She seemed to like to feel me, with her palms and her fingers and her mouth, and was in no hurry. I moaned at the stimuli, overwhelmed with the slow circles of her tongue on my skin and her gentle touch.

She didn't stop when she finished my stomach, continuing right to my sore, erect penis. I reflexively jumped when I felt my older sister's lips kiss my shaft, such as it was. I tried to put those thoughts of inadequacy out of my mind since she certainly didn't seem deterred. As she placed another light-as-a-feather kiss on my hardened shaft, she stroked my thigh, gently, kindly.

It took her only a couple of light kisses to run the 3 or 4 inches or so that it took to get to the tip, and her face turned up to mine as it twitched. I could feel her breath against me, even with the water pouring down the front of my body and onto her face. She smiled, and I hoped she couldn't hear me whimper in anticipation.

Then I felt Charlie's lips wrap around me, her tongue darting over the head and along the shaft as she gradually took it all easily into her mouth. I tried my best to keep from screaming and let out only a groan as I felt her move her lips along me. I wasn't going to be able to hold it.

"Fuckkkk, ahhh, Charlieee," I groaned out, and she moaned into me in return.

That almost did it, but I tensed every muscle I had with concentration, not wanting the feeling of my big sister sucking my cock in the shower to end. I had dreamt of moments like this for so long, and now it was happening.

I never want to wake up, I thought, as Charlie gently took one of my hands and put it on her matted hair. My other hand followed suit, grateful for something to do. My hands slid over her hair, caressing her soft cheek, feeling her bobbing back and forth.

I heard a low growl, and tried to focus on what it was instead of how close I was to exploding -- and realized it was coming from me. My mouth was open, water dripping in and out from the showerhead as I threw my head back, groaning at the indescribable feeling of Charlie licking and sucking, devouring me so far that I could swear the tip of my penis poked the back of her throat for a moment. I never thought I would ever be big enough to do that, something I'd only seen in porn. But Charlie managed it.

My groan got louder, probably too loud, but I couldn't stop and Charlie only moaned into me in return while she quickened her pace. She liked it, liked what she was doing to me -- I could feel it in the vibrations from her moans echoing through my body as my cock strained and begged to finally let go.

When her hand slid up and squeezed one of my small, barely protruding nipples I couldn't handle it anymore.

"FuckfuckfuckFUCK!" I gasped, just as involuntarily as my groan, and I unleashed into my sister's mouth. I felt her moaning in response, long and deep, as her lips closed around me, pulling every drop pouring out of me down her throat.

I groaned again and my hands flailed for anything to hold onto as I spasmed, bucking into my sister's mouth. She gulped and swallowed and kept going as I bucked again and again, my knees wobbling. Her hands did their best to pin me to the wall, keeping me from falling, and I gushed one more time before popping out of her mouth and finally sliding down to the floor, not even registering that the bath faucet was digging into my back.

She sat back, too, against the opposite wall, her naked body still in the line of shower spray, her pussy clearly on display between her sprawled-out legs.

I thought I had been exhausted, but I couldn't handle the sight of her body, flushed and wet, her exposed, pink pussy dripping. I took my cock in my hand and stroked faster and faster, staring intently at my sister's pussy as my rapidly reawakened penis responded eagerly to an encore. She didn't move to stop me. I quickly came again, spurting into the water between us, and watched it carry into the drain beneath me.

"Fuck," I said again, in between ragged breaths. "Charlie... you're... just... wow."

She looked back at me and gave a wan smile. I wasn't sure she'd even noticed I'd done another round.

We sat there another few moments in silence, just the sound of the shower hitting the small space between us, our legs sprawled in between each other in the shower that wasn't designed for two. My eyes never left her, admiring everything about her perfect body.

This is easily the best moment of my life. Good luck topping this, I told myself. I have good sense sometimes.

She didn't look at me the same way, of course. Actually, she didn't look at me at all, her eyes drawn to another mysterious spot on the wall over my shoulder, until she slowly seemed to remember that I was even there.

"Okay, that's enough. I gotta shower now," she said slowly. She didn't move from her spot, and still didn't even look at me. Just sighed and gestured for me to let myself out of the shower.

Reluctantly I slid the door open and got out, closing it behind me. I dried myself and watched the shower, but didn't see her silhouette move until I was almost out of the bathroom.

"Goodnight, Charlie," I said weakly.

I didn't hear a response.