Mutual Attraction Ch. 01

When you're young, and in your teens, people always seem to be saying you've got the world at your feet, but it's only when you're older, you realise how true that was. At the time, it doesn't always seem that way, especially if you're not the most self-confident person around.

It all started when I was half way through my last year of high school. I had just turned 18, and I was still a virgin. I lived with my parents, and my sister, Louise, who was exactly a year older than me, right down to the month. I have to say, life was so much simpler then.

With our ages being so close, Louise and I had always been close as kids, and with my father working away a lot of the time in his job as a manager of a building company, and my mother working shifts as a nurse, we spent a lot of time at home on our own. I guess that made us even closer. We fought, argued from time to time, and behaved like most other kids, but I think we were pretty close, when it comes right down to it.

When we were young, Louise and I played the games most kids played together, but we also had a little game of our own, where we would pick a TV series that had a married couple in it, and we would pretend we were the husband and wife in the show. We would act out our own version, in a schoolkid imitation of what we saw the actors doing on TV, and as a young kid, I used to think this was a lot of fun.

It seemed like it all stopped the year Louise turned thirteen, and I always thought she just grew out of it. I found out at the age of twelve that adult women have pubic hair, and occasionally for the next few years, I would wonder what Louise looked like down there, inside her panties.

Fast-forward a few years, and there we were, Louise at nineteen, and me at eighteen. Louise had finished school the year before, and now had a job as a receptionist at the local Ford dealer, and a boyfriend named Derek, who was two years older than she was. Louise was five feet, six inches tall, with a slim build, and I guess you could say her looks were more girl next door than beauty queen, but if you took a second look, you'd see that she had a curvy shape, great legs, a nice round, firm backside, and tits that were not big, but well shaped and in proportion to the rest of her. She had light brown, medium length hair, fair skin, and blue-grey eyes, and if you got close, (really close), you could see she had a little sprinkle of tiny freckles across the bridge of her nose. She had a great sense of humour, and smiled a lot, so as brother and sister, we had a lot of good times together.

Years of gymnastics and netball had made Louise very supple, and although she gave up gymnastics at sixteen, she could still do the splits at the drop of a hat, and she had kept on playing netball on the weekends, so she kept herself toned.

On the other hand, although I was tall, I was only average build, and I was reasonably fit, with playing regular soccer, but I was no athlete. I'm not sure why, but I was never a hit with girls back then, but like almost every other eighteen-year-old guy on the planet, I had sex on my mind a lot of the time. Another thing I had in common with every other eighteen-year-old was that when my cock got hard, it got rock hard, and I could come three or four times a day if I felt like it. My dick was only average sized, if what I saw in the school showers after sport, or in the soccer field change rooms, was anything to go by, but sadly the only action it had ever seen was from my right hand.

Some nights, when my dad was away, and my mother was on night shift, I'd hear Louise and Derek going at it in her bedroom, even though there was a bathroom between our two rooms. I never heard much from Derek, just low, muffled mumbling, but I would hear Louise saying stuff like, "That's it, Derek, that's it, just like that! Keep going just like that! Omigod, Derek, that's good, ... ..., that's too good, ......, Oh, Derek, that is so-o-o fuck-ing good!!"

I would lie there, imagining them together in Louise's room, but I'd had never had sex with a girl before, so the pictures in my mind were like the pictures in porn magazines I had read, or dirty movies I had seen, with Derek hammering Louise on her back, with her legs over his shoulders, or Louise on all fours, while Derek drove his cock into her pussy from behind. I never seemed to imagine them as two people making sweet love in the missionary position. In my mind, I only saw them fucking like porn stars, fucking for the sheer sexual pleasure it gave them, fucking hard, and fucking simply because it felt good.......

Then, mid year, Derek broke up with Louise. Worse still, he dumped her for the town slut, Barbara Ekins, and to add icing to the cake, when Louise tried to ask him why, he told her he'd been cheating on her with Barbara for months, and Barbara was a better fuck anyway. Louise was devastated, and for a week, she cried all the time and wouldn't eat, just lying in her room, like a hermit, while I sat and wished I could help her get over him.

My parents seemed to think it was just something she was going through, and she'd snap out of it soon enough, so they weren't much help. As for me, well, I was just an 18-year old kid who'd never had a girlfriend. What did I know about relationship advice?

She came home from work one afternoon, and went straight to her room. I heard her softly sobbing in there, so I went to the door, determined to help. She was lying on her back, with her head turned, facing away from me, and I tried to think of something to say that would help, but nothing came. I tried my best....

"Fuck Derek!" I said, eloquently. Louise turned to face me.

"Yeah," I continued, digging deep into my experience in counselling people with problems, "Fuck him, you'll find someone better."

She said nothing, but patted the bed next to herself, so I walked over and sat next to her. She looked so sad.

"Hold me," she said, but didn't move, so I shuffled down next to her, and put one arm underneath her, and one over her shoulders, facing her. She snuggled in close, putting her head on my chest, and I was slightly ashamed to find myself looking down her blouse at her breasts in that position, feeling the warmth from them, and I started to tell her about all the things Derek was missing, and how he was the loser, not her.

I tried to ignore those lovely tits, inches from my face, but it was as though my cock had a hair trigger, and with her soft, curvy body pressed up against me, and her breasts displaying themselves to me like that, my hormones took over, and my dick went to wood in no time flat.

I kept on telling her good things about herself, with my tool trying harder all the time to get my attention, and after a while, Louise leaned over to kiss me gently on the forehead. "I'll be okay," she said softly, "I just need to lie here for a while. I'll come out to see you in a few minutes. Thanks for the talk, I feel a bit better now."

I got up, and walked out of her room. I went to my own bedroom, where I wanked the erection away, and then had a quick shower to destroy the evidence, almost hating myself for being so aroused by Louise, my sister, at a time when she was feeling so low.

The following day, school holidays started, and I had the day to myself when my mother and Louise went to work. I bummed around, tidied up, and went to a friend's place for a while, then came back mid-afternoon to an empty house.

I felt that old, familiar hunger in my pants, so I went to my room, and settled in for a good session of me-time. No-one was due home for a while, so I found a British porn magazine in my stash, and started to go through it, looking for inspiration. I found a six-page photo set with two girls in it, so I started to check out the pics, while my hand did the work.

Lesbian porn was my favourite, and this set ticked all the boxes. There were two beautiful girls, one a blonde, and one with brown hair, and they were dressed as secretaries, with short skirts, stockings and conservative blouses. They graduated from sly smiles to kissing each other, and then undressing, sucking each other's tits, and then to oral sex on the desk, and the second last shot in the set was a full-page close up of the brown haired-girl licking the blonde girl's pussy. I had my attention on the photo, and I was about to come for all I was worth, when...

"Bust-ed!"

I looked up in horror and shame, to see Louise at the foot of my bed, looking at my tool-filled hand, and I threw the magazine off the bed and pulled the sheet over myself, but the damage was done. Instantly, I felt sick in the stomach.

"Fuck! Fuck! ........., Ohhhh, fuck!!" was all I could say, as the orgasm I was just about to have seemed to vanish into thin air. Louise's mouth was open.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I said, still in shock.

"You know," she started, "I was about to ask the same question, but the answer is so obvious, it would've made me look pretty stupid, wouldn't it?"

I lay there without answering, starting to shake a little, and Louise went on with, "I got off work early today, so I came straight home to see what you were up to. I walked in, and you've got your door wide open, and," she burst out laughing, but kept on talking, so the only words I understood were, "hammer and tongs."

If I wasn't so horribly ashamed and embarrassed, I probably would have laughed as well. She got over her laughter and said, a little more seriously, "You really should close the door when you do that."

"I did," I said, flatly.

"Well, you didn't do it properly," Louise said, now looking me in the eye. "The wind must have blown it open. It's blowing a gale outside, but I guess you wouldn't have noticed. I suppose your mind was on other things," she finished, with a sympathetic smile.

She walked around the bed, and looked the porn mag, which had fallen open at the pussy-licking shot. "What are you wanking over, anyway?" she said, with mischievous interest in her voice. She looked down.

"Lesbo porn!" she said, as though she had discovered something.

"D'you like lesbians?" she asked, again looking me in the eye, but with an inquisitive look in her face. I could see there was no use lying, and the damage was done anyway, so I said, "Yeah, I think every guy does."

Louise shook her head, and looked at the picture on the floor, and said "Lesbians...," with a smirk.

Then, she dropped to her knees, and looked closer, and said, "Hey, do you think that brown-haired girl looks a bit like me?"

I could see from her face it was the same old Louise, who bounced stupid jokes off me all the time, and got back as good as she gave, and I started to feel a little less embarrassed. I shook my head, and said, "She doesn't look like you at all. Do you think I'd be perving at a girl who looked like my sister?"

"Oh," she said, standing back up. I assumed she was only pretending to be disappointed. She walked backwards to the foot of my bed again, and with a smile, she said, "Nah, she doesn't look like me at all. I was just jerkin' you around, except," pausing, and looking towards my crotch, "you're doing enough of that for both of us."

I put the pillow over my head and said, "Just go." I was still embarrassed, but somehow, Louise had taken the edge off it. She was good at that kind of stuff.

She walked to the door, and turned to say, "I better leave you alone, now. You look like you've got your hands full," and, smirking, she finished, "One of them, anyway."

She walked out the door, and made a big show of closing it properly.

I lay there for a moment, recovering from the shock, but as the moment had been ruined, and the desire now taken over by a sick feeling of shame, I got up, took a long shower, and went for a long ride on my trail bike.

I came back hours later, after dark, to find Louise sitting in the family room, watching TV. "Where's Mum?" I asked.

"Did you forget?" she asked right back, "She's gone down the coast to spend some time with Dad. She left straight after work, Airhead. Just like she's been talking about all week, so it's just you and me here for the next coupla days."

Louise told me my dinner was in the microwave, so I reheated it and ate quickly, avoiding her as far as possible. Not because of any bad feeling between us, but because I still felt a bit ashamed. I said goodnight, showered again, and went to bed.

After a while, I heard the shower in the bathroom next to my bedroom, and after it stopped, I heard Louise moving around, and then things went quiet for a few minutes, although the light was still on in the hall. I was having trouble dropping off to sleep, and a moment or two later, I heard two knocks, even though my door was half-open, and then Louise's voice.

"Wayne," she said, "It's me."

"I didn't think it would be anyone else," I answered, without trying to sound abrupt.

"Can I come in?" she continued.

"Course you can," I answered, although I still felt a little sheepish, but she moved into the doorway, a silhouette in the light from the hall.

"I thought I'd better knock," she said, "after, you know, today."

I saw her shoulders shrug in the dark, and I said, "Give it a rest!" with exasperation in my voice. She stepped in closer, and said, "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Today, I mean. Put your bedside light on. I don't want to blind you by turning on the room light."

I flicked on the bedside light, and saw she was wearing a pair of light blue cotton summer pyjamas. To be honest, they were kind of sexy, and in the past I have to admit I had wanked to the thought of her in them. That memory didn't help my guilty feelings one bit.

"Look," she said, "everybody does that kinda thing. We all do it."

"We?" I said.

I was honestly surprised she said that, and in my whole life I had never imagined my sister doing that to herself, giving herself pleasure like that, all on her own. Suddenly, the thought made the back of my mouth and throat go all thick and dry. Louise wasn't finished yet, though.

"Of course," she smiled, "Do ya think girls just get to a certain age, and suddenly want to have sex? We get horny long before then, so what are we gonna do? Of course we do it."

She came over and sat on the side of my bed, on my left. She said, "Do you remember those silly games we played when we were kids? That kind of stuff?"

I thought back, and said, "Yeah," avoiding her gaze, "I do."

She went on with, "What about the other game, and all the times when you played Darren, and I was Samantha? Or Mr and Mrs Cunningham from Happy Days?"

I chuckled for a moment, thinking back. We had not mentioned those games to each other for years. I smiled, and added, "What about the time I was Fonzie?"

I saw that smile on her face that I had known all my life, and she said, "Yeah, Fonzie. What would Mr C have to say about that?"

She went serious again, and said "Well, this may surprise you, but sometimes, I think back to those games, and kind of," she paused, as if thinking of whether to continue, "kind of, um, ... ..., touch myself."

She gave me a searching look, and said, "Um, do you ever, think of me, when you, um, you know..."

"No," I lied.

"Oh," she said, with real disappointment in her voice.

"Well," she went on, "Then there was yesterday."

"Yesterday?" I said, guilt rising inside me.

"Well, yeah, yesterday," she started. "There I was, all upset, and you came and sort of, um, said all those nice things, and made me feel so much better about myself, and you were kind of lying there, up against me and stuff, and it just felt nice to cuddle up to a man and feel good about myself," pausing, then adding, "you know?"

"A man?" I said, "But this man is your brother." I had half an inkling, or maybe just wishful thinking, but I had half an idea where this might be leading, but I still had to say that.

"Okay," she answered, "you are, but I couldn't help it if it still felt nice."

"Glad I could help," I said, casually, wondering if...

"You know what I did after you left?" she asked.

"Surprise me," I said.

She surprised me all right. "I touched myself," she said, looking me straight in the eye, like she had said something completely normal, but knowing full well that she hadn't.

Even now, I still don't know what I was going to say when she said that, but it didn't matter, because my throat got so thick and dry in an instant, that all that came out was a kind of gasping, "Uhhhkllthh," sound.

"Well, girls have feelings," she said, looking down, modestly.

I was still too stunned to speak. I guess I kind of knew what she was leading up to, but it was still so far from the way things normally went, that I thought I must be hearing things wrongly, or maybe just misreading them.

"What about you? Yesterday, I mean," she said, looking me in the eye, as if she somehow knew the answer.

"No," I lied again, pursing my lips, and shaking my head, as if that was out of the question.

"Oh." Once again, disappointment in her voice, and this time a little surprise as well.

"Anyway," she said, "I've been thinking ..."

"That's always dangerous," I said, butting in. After all, she was my sister, and we always said things like that to each other.

She shook her head, with that look of mock sympathy for the afflicted on her face, that she used to give me when I said something stupid, as a joke, and got back on track. She seemed to be giving this some thought for a moment, and then she said, "Hear me out here for a minute, Wayne. Now, think about it. Here we are, the two of us, right? Me in my room, touching myself," and she paused, gesturing towards her room, "and you're in here, in this room, you know, doing," she paused, "whatever you, um, do..."

She kind of seemed like she ran out of words for a moment.

She sighed, and went on, as though getting it all out at once, "So-o-o, why don't we just, kind of, um, help each other out?"

I was amazed, and I wanted this more than a kid wants Christmas, but there was no way I thought I could do that in front of her. "I can't ..., I don't..., think...," I stammered.

She leaned forward, and said, soothingly, "It's not like we haven't seen each other. We could look but not touch if you're feeling a bit shy, just kind of play around, maybe kiss each other, you know, just fooling around."

My stomach had butterflies, and I was thinking "What if she doesn't mean what I think she means?" but she tried a different approach.

"Wayne, if you were horny and wanted to, um," and to my discomfort, she made a movement with her thumb over her hand, almost, but not quite, making a wanking fist, "wouldn't you rather look at a real, live girl? And not a girl in a magazine?"

She met my eyes with hers. I was still uneasy about doing anything like that in front of anybody, even Louise. She reached over, without speaking, keeping eye contact, and took my left hand, and gently prodded my finger into the skin of her left forearm.

"That's real," she said, softly.

I was fighting with my own reluctance, if that's possible, but then, to close the deal, she seemed to have an idea. She moved my hand to her left breast, gently turning and holding the palm of my left hand flat against the thin cotton of her pyjama top, so I could feel quite clearly that she was wearing nothing underneath. I felt the warm, rounded shape of her breast with its soft nipple, underneath the material, and I felt her nipple harden slightly under my touch. "That's also real," she said softly, a little more husky this time.

I melted. The world fell away underneath me. Roller coaster. Pick your cliché. Whatever it was, it happened to me.