My Sister, My Slut Ch. 01

"Oops!" she cackled.

Once I'd sat her down I considered what to do next. Obviously I couldn't leave her unattended, but nor did I want to wake my parents and have to explain why all this had happened, including my own failure to bring my sister home in time. For her part, my sister was decidedly unhelpful, carrying on in a most undignified way. I couldn't believe that my usually graceful, elegant sister had urinated on me like an infant. I turned and took off my shirt, tossing it to the floor. I needed a shower, as did my sister, but that posed a problem. Maybe I would need to wake my mother.

What an unmitigated cluster-fuck. I took a cup from the vanity, filled it with water and gave it to my sister to sip and then put on the shower. We could shower clothed, that wouldn't be weird would it? Although I'd need to help her, otherwise she might slip. I turned to look at her, only to find that she'd already discarded her clothing and heels and was now sitting naked and looking at me, evidently pleased with herself. I'd seen my sister naked before, but not for several years. Yet there she now was, nude, her rose-pink nipples standing erect on her full breasts. I saw her pubis, the light brown hair of her landing strip now wet with piss. I couldn't turn away. She was marvellous, bare, and vulnerable.

"Come on sis, let's get you clean," I ordered.

Now was not the time to be distracted by lust. I had a duty to my sister. She had drugged, in addition to being drunk. Fortunately she was not vomiting. She nodded and I helped her to the shower. The water seemed to calm her and restore some sense to her addled mind. I stepped into the shower with her, happy to let the warm water wash splash over my bare chest, my sister's nakedness mere inches from me. Within my now water-soaked pants, my dick stiffened at primal urge, straining towards her. Suddenly she pushed herself against me, putting arms around me. I felt her warmth radiate into me as we hugged, her breasts pressed against my chest.

"Thank you," she said finally.

Those were her last words that night. She was coming down from the drug-induced high and the depressant was kicking in. I turned off the shower and gave her a towel, which she struggled with for a minute until I helped her. Towel in hand, I rubbed her smooth, athletic calves and up her thighs, my hands dancing over her cleft, coming tantalising close. Her lips quivered. Then her soft buttocks, her midriff, her bosom. She clasped her hands to mine when I had the towel over her breasts, pulling me in to touch her through the towel, moaning softly as she did so. I wanted to linger there, to squeeze and caress her. My mind and dick throbbed in coordination and my throat was dry. But I wouldn't - couldn't - take advantage of my sister so I finished drying her. Satisfied, I towelled myself off and then led her to her bed. She lay down and I looked for her pyjamas, but at this hour couldn't navigate her wardrobe, finding only dresses, jeans and shoes. Telling her to wait, I hurried to grab a tee shirt of my own, the largest I could find. I watched as she pulled it on, giving me a final tantalising glimpse of her pink slit and milky tits. I left to put on my pyjamas, returning with another glass of water. Jen was clearly very tired now, but I didn't want to leave her yet in case her condition worsened. Instead, I brought a chair over beside her bed and sat, watching the regular rise and fall of her chest as she fell asleep. It was well after 2am and I was exhausted. I watched over her, bleary eyed, until weariness claimed me.

*

The first thing I felt on waking was the stiffness of my neck. I had slept in an uncomfortable chair and my muscles did not appreciate it. My sister was still in bed, still alive to my great relief. It was Friday, 8.30am. My parents would have left to work an hour ago, evidently not checking upstairs before leaving. I struggled out of my chair and stretched then went to the bathroom, collecting the discarded clothing and putting it in the laundry. Jacqui's coaster and mobile number were lost to water damage. After, a Google search on date-rape drugs identified GHB, street name fantasy or liquid ecstasy, as the likely culprit as it was a psychotic aphrodisiac and significantly worsened motor control, particularly when combined with alcohol.

In the harsh light of morning the events of night replayed in my mind on a loop. Had I done the right thing, washing her, drying her, simply seeing her naked? My intent had not been sexual. Well, maybe a little, but I had acted from brotherly love, from duty. Yes, part of me responded to the stimulus in a way consistent with evolutionary biological concerns, particularly when I felt my sister's nakedness pressed against me. And yes, my lusting may have led to sub-optimal choices when towelling her off. But what to make of her behaviour? Drug addled. Maybe she didn't even recognise me as her brother. Were drugs really that potent? The way she had embraced me, her soft, luxuriously bare skin against me, her hard nipples poking into me. How her slightly-parted quim had quivered as I held the towel millimetres from it, just barely brushing her. That could not occur in a vacuum, could it? The tantalising thought that my sister might share my lust danced through my mind.

It was late morning when my sister finally roused. For better or worse I went to her room, finding her sitting on her bed, head in hands, wearing her dressing gown.

"I have the most hellish headache. It feels like the devil is beating his way into my head," she groaned.

I felt my heart fluttering, my throat suddenly parched.

"Yeah," I mumbled.

She raised her head and stared at me, her piercing blue eyes holding my gaze.

"Why am I wearing your t-shirt, Alex? What happened last night?"

Ah, the dreaded questions. That didn't take long.

"Uh, well," I hesitated.

I had thought about what to say, but now I actually had to say it. This really was a fuck-up.

"Well, uh, we went clubbing, remember? To jive and Verdant, yeah?"

She nodded, "I remember. Sort of. Actually, I'm a bit fuzzy on what happened at Verdant."

"Simply put, I think someone spiked your drink. As in, you were drugged. That is, I'm pretty sure you were. You were really dizzy last night. I brought you home."

She winced, pain creasing her delicate face. "Drugged? Like... roofies?"

I nodded and there was a minute of silence. Faintly remembered trauma played across her.

"Fuck," she said eventually. "What else happened?"

"Not much. Like I was saying, I told the guy to bugger off and took you home in a taxi. You were tired and, well, high. I got you into bed and let you sleep it off. You weren't sick and nothing else really happened," I lied.

My sister looked confused and fragile. I hoped that she didn't remember the bathroom stuff - how the hell could I explain that? 'It seemed like a good idea at the time' didn't mitigate how awkward it would be for the both of us if she knew. Christ, now I'd lied about it to her.

"I, I need some time to think."

I sat down next to her on the bed and put my arm over her shoulder.

"I would never let anything bad happen to you, you know that sis."

"I know," she said, resting her head on my shoulder, hugging me.

I felt her sobbing silently against me and felt wretched. I had abused her trust, first in deed then in word. I could try and weasel out of it as much as I liked, I could blame it on alcohol or tiredness or pretend that I had only wanted to help, but I knew the truth of my lust, even if she didn't, even if it felt right at the time. Now she clung to me for comfort, her slender frame pressed against me and her tears dampening my shirt. I didn't have the heart to pull away and tell her the truth, to cause her further pain, so I sat, my insides churning with guilt.

"I love you, Alex," she whispered at last.

Her words felt like a dagger to my chest, at once filling me with hope and despair. She loved me, maybe she would even forgive me, but she would never love me in the way I loved her.