It was her 18th birthday. She was like a sister to me, though we weren’t related at all. Her brother and I had been best friends since diapers, but he had passed a year before and I had all but taken up his duties as big brother–driving to the mall, interrogating potential boyfriends, movies, whatever. She’s 12 years younger than me, so I never really thought anything about the flirtatious way she had been acting lately. We’d always wrestled and teased each other, but nothing out of bounds.
She wanted to go to dinner and a movie for her birthday, and since I knew she would have a hard time because she and her brother were close, I relented. Told her I’d pick her up at 6. I arrived to find her waiting on the porch in the shortest dress I’d ever seen, makeup (which she rarely wore) and heels. Her hair was curled and pulled back into a thick ponytail. It was then that I realized that my “baby sister” was a gorgeous young woman. I tried to push the thoughts of her long legs out of my mind. But it was hard with her sitting in the Jeep beside me, skirt barely brushing her thighs.
I kept stealing glances at her while I was driving, and she only grinned back. Finally, after I nearly ran off the road because of her pale thighs she laughed and asked, “are you distracted?”
“A little,” I admitted, my face burning.
“Why? You’ve seen more of me than this,” she elbowed me in the side. “We were at the pool together the other day.”
“I know,” I said, my tongue not wanting to cooperate.
She rested her hand on my thigh. “I’m glad you think I’m pretty.”
I managed to shift in time that she didn’t feel my manhood grow in reaction to her hand. I laid my hand atop hers and squeezed. “Of course I do, Hannah.”
She leaned her head on my shoulder, which made me throb and my heart pound. Her hand flipped over beneath mine and she laced our fingers. She stayed that way the rest of the ride.
When we arrived at the restaurant, a local Mexican affair, I slid out of the Jeep and moved over to help her down. The big mud tires put her pretty far up, and with her all of 5 feet and in stilettos, I thought it would be the gentlemanly thing to do. She put her hands on my shoulders, and my hands went around her waist, lifting her out of the truck and settling her on the pavement.
She leaned up and kissed my cheek. “My hero!” she gushed, playfully. Then socked me in the arm. “I coulda done that myself ya know.”
I laughed and shut the door. Offering her my arm, we walked across the road and into the restaurant. The hostess took us to a dimly lit booth and we slid in on opposite sides. I heard her heels clatter to the floor as soon as she was up in the booth. I knew her feet couldn’t touch the floor, a reality I teased her about incessantly. But before the teasing could begin, I felt her feet brushing against my leg.
I looked up at her and she smiled but gave no hint that she knew what she was doing. I was suffering from her antics, but tried not to let it show.
“What can I order?” she asked.
“Whatever you want, it is your birthday after all.”
“In that case, come sit next to me,” she said, sliding further into the booth and patting the seat.
I couldn’t say no, after all it was her birthday. At least, that’s what I told myself. So I did as she asked and slid in beside her. She crossed her legs, letting her foot rest behind my knee. I could barely focus.
When the server came, we ordered: coke, water and our favorite dishes.
When he left, she took my hand again–this time resting it on her bare thigh. She leaned in close and whispered in my ear, her warm breath tickling my neck and her lips almost clipping my ear lobe as she said: “Thank you for doing this. Its been a hard day, but I wouldn’t want anyone else here right now.”
I turned to respond, but she hadn’t moved away and my lips brushed hers. Stunned, I started to pull away but she pushed forward, covering my lips with hers in a deep and nervous kiss. I knew I should have pulled away, I knew that this was dangerous and wrong–but I also knew that I wanted it. So I kissed her back.
One kiss turned into more, and before I knew it, my hand was gripping her bare thigh, trying to pull her closer. I inhaled, exhilarated by the her sweet scent. She pulled away and smiled sheepishly up at me.
“I’m…sorry?” she said, more a question than a statement.
“I’m…not.” I replied, smiling down at her.
We finished our meal, making small talk and touching always. Afterwards I helped her back into the Jeep and we started home. “You ready to call it a night Hannah?” I asked.
“Could we catch a movie?” she replied.
“Sure what do you want to see?”
“I was thinking maybe something on Netflix. Back at your place?”
My brain told me it was a bad idea, but the cock throbbing beneath my jeans demanded to be heard.
“Sounds fun, birthday girl.”
She grabbed my hand and laid it on her thigh. “Good, I like it when you don’t tell me no.”
An hour later we were curled up on my couch. Hannah was nestled beneath my arm, her head on my chest. We fired up the movie and sat companionably for a while. I could feel her chest rising and falling against me, and I almost thought she had fallen asleep.
But when her hand moved slowly, inch by inch, from my thigh to my crotch–which was in a constant state of erection–I knew I was wrong.
“Oh my!” she whispered. “Someone’s excited.”
I pulled her hand away. “Hannah, we shouldn’t.”
“But its my birthday,” she mock-pouted, sitting up on her knees beside me.
She tugged at her hairband, and her long red tresses came loose–and I nearly lost it right then. She leaned in and kissed me again, this time there were no nerves. Only a demanding hunger.
I tried to stop myself, but I lost that battle. Before I realized what was happening, I pulled her into my lap. Her ass wiggled against my hard cock, and her arms went around my neck. I bit her lip and she moaned.
My free hand roamed her legs, exploring. She spread her legs slightly so that my hand could slip between. The heat radiating from her center made me growl into her kiss. She leaned her head back and I attacked her neck and throat with my lips–kissing, sucking and biting as her hands gripped my hair.
“Touch me, please!” She sighed.
I moved my hand lower, feeling the radiant heat of her desire nearly burning my skin. I met no resistance when my fingers finally reached her sex. “You aren’t wearing underwear, Hannah.” I growled.
She laughed and returned to kissing my lips. My fingers pushed apart her warm lips, probing her soaked vagina with tender touches. When my thumb found her clit, she threw her head back and moaned. I could feel my cock ready to explode from the anticipation as she writhed on my lap.
“Take me to bed.” she demanded. And, since it was her birthday, I happily obliged.
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