Cape May

A Little Bit More

I'm not quite sure when or how it happened. To me she was always my skinny, pain in the ass, gangly little sister. But something happened after she turned fourteen and a half and I can't say I completely didn't notice it. But I can't say that I did. It was a Friday and Friday's was always garage night.

For the last few months I started noticing something different about her, something different in the way she felt. As we grappled and wrestled on the mat I noticed an apparent absence of skinniness in my sister. Somehow, she felt a bit fuller in body than she used to. There was more to grasp than before and when I flipped her, she was decidedly heavier than I remembered. There were times when as she rolled over my back on the way to the mat, I felt a distinct fullness in her chest area that I swore I've never felt before. I started letting her pin me to the mat more often as I realized I enjoyed the feeling of her weight on top of me. I would look at her as she walked around the house and realized there was more body to her. To my surprise, I saw small mounds protruding from her chest that weren't there before. And although she usually walked around in sweats or baggy shorts, there was an unmistakable roundness in her butt and her thighs and calves seemed to have filled in.

I realized I started doing things a little more than I should. When I lifted her leg to sweep her, I'd grab her just a little bit higher and hold on to the leg just a little bit longer than was necessary. When I flipped her over my back, I held her there just a little bit longer than I should. And when I grabbed her by the waist to do a reverse throw, I would place my hands just a little bit higher than the move called for. When I stood behind her and reached around her body to explain a move, I would stand just a little bit closer and a little bit longer than was needed. When I pinned her to the mat, I would stay on her just a wee bit longer than I knew I should. As the months went by I got bolder and my hands would go higher up her thigh, closer to her chest, the throws took longer, the pins more frequent and always higher and longer than I should.

Always, a little bit more.

If she noticed any of this, she never said a word and I felt perhaps she didn't notice. Once I explained to her that because she was taller now and weighed more than before, I had to adjust my hold on her to accomplish the same moves. Whether she bought this or not, I did not know, for she never brought it up.

But all this did not leave me without unwanted side effects. I started watching her more intently. My eyes would follow her across the kitchen, longer than they should. I would stare at her breasts just a bit longer then is normal and let my eyes rest upon her ass just a wee longer than I knew was right. Of course, I tried to be discreet about it, as discreet as a teenage boy with his blood flowing full of hormones could be. Amazingly, no one noticed, except surprisingly grandma. I say surprisingly, because her sight was failing, but not failing enough not to notice her grandson's inability to keep his eyes off his sister.

There were other consequences as well. Since I was thirteen, I had discovered the world of self-gratification and would gratify myself as often as the opportunity allowed. Sometimes I would think of Mary Ann from math class with her long flowing blond hair. Or Melanie Rivera with her smooth café con leche colored skin. But most of the times I would just think of Ms. Rodriguez, the gym teacher, with her tight gym pants and the tee shirts she wore, which all the boys swore were two sizes too small because her boobs looked like they were about to bust out any day now.

But lately, I found my thoughts drifting towards my sister on these occasions. The funny thing is that normally I would masturbate, then think about the girls. Now, however, I would think about my sister, then masturbate. The result of all this is that I would have the most intense orgasms. This in turn gave me the most intense feelings of guilt. The guilt then turned into confusion. The confusion was further confused when I realized that I would get upset when a guy would look at her as we're walking through the school campus or in a mall. Then suddenly, in the last few months all sorts of guys wanted to be my friend. Not that I lacked for friendship. I was one of the more popular guys at school, but suddenly guys I would never think would give me the time of day befriended me. Even Mr. Bernstien from home Ed, started treating me different. I realized that this sudden surge of popularity put me on edge, for I knew it was not me they wanted to know, but my miracle sister.

But nothing bothered me more than the conflicting feelings I felt, for after all, she was the thorn in my side, my eternal albatross round my neck, someone to be avoided at all costs.

I hated her.

Yet, I couldn't stop thinking of her. A little bit more than I should.