I do my best to solve my sister’s ugly problem

Since I was home from school on the semester break, I
took my sister to a nice restaurant on the night
before her 16th birthday. “How’s your love life?” I
asked her with a smile as we studied the big menus.

She shook her lovely head. “I have none. Boys are
disgusting.”

“Your pardon, miss? All of them?”

“Present company excepted. You’re hardly a ‘boy’.”

“What caused this?”

She sniffed and raised her menu. “Can’t tell you. Sad
story.”

“Really. No hook-ups, no petting and groping, no
kissing or tongue sucking?”

“Never. I hate it. I’ve been trying to learn to love
girls but it’s difficult. I don’t like kissing them
either.”

I tried to digest that and after that we had our meal
in silence, more or less. But once we were alone in
the car, I raised the subject again. “June,” I said
when we were buckled in, “you are very pretty, you
must know that.”

“I suppose. Can’t be helped.”

“So why no male admirers?”

She shook her head. “I hate them. Won’t even talk to
boys, won’t let them touch me. I spit and squeal if
they do. Everyone knows now. They leave me alone.”

“But why?”

“Long story.” She sniffed. “Guess I should tell
somebody. Mother has asked. Father is oblivious of
course.”

“Don’t be so sure. Tell me.”

She took a deep breath. “When I was twelve, four years
ago, I went to this party, this birthday party. They
had a backyard pool so it was swimsuits for
everybody.”

“The Sullivans?”

She nodded. “And we bought me a new suit since I was
growing and, well, developing.”

“Boobs?”

“Yes, silly, boobs.” She giggled. “You may have
noticed. I was probably a 26-A at the times, something
like that, little nubbins, very cute, teacup size I
guess, maybe B-cup. Anyhow, I wanted a Baywatch suit,
a red one, one-piece, tank, you know. I’m sure you
remember. And Mom bought it and a nice cover-up too.”

“Of course. But I never saw you wearing one.”

She was quiet for a while. “I only wore it once.
Anyhow, I went to this party and we played games and
swam and ate and stuff and somewhere in there somebody
put something in my drink, one of those date-rape
drugs I guess. Ecstasy maybe.”

“Damn,” I said. “You were twelve?”

“It was getting dark and people were leaving. I had
walked over, just a few blocks, so I hung around
talking to people and stuff. Then this boy I didn’t
know came up and put his arm around my shoulders.” She
blinked at me. “I didn’t even know him, and I think he
was older.” She sniffed. “He kissed me and I let him.”

I kept my eyes on the road but I knew she was crying.

“And he and another guy, a bigger boy, older too,
maybe fifteen or something, they led me back to this
shelter and took away my shirt and started pushing me
back and forth between them, pawing at me and pinching
and stuff, pulling the straps off my shoulders. After
that, I kind of lost track, but then I remember seeing
my new bathing suit hanging from the diving board and
this boy had his hands under my knees and was
spreading my legs and smiling at me, pushing my legs
back and open.”

“Damn,” I said again.

“I was on my back, on a mat. Melissa told me later
that five guys humped me and that they took pictures,
lots of pictures, but I don’t really know, I just kind
of recall bits and pieces, feelings and stuff. It
hurt, really hurt, what they did. I was bruised for a
week or so, my thighs and my belly.”

“Five guys?”

She shook her head. “I honestly don’t know, but I did
see some pictures. They were doing nasty stuff,
putting me in funny positions. I do remember one guy
kneeling by my face and squirting in my hair. I think
I remember the taste.”

I drove and kept my mouth closed.

“So I guess it might have been worse, but her father
caught them and chased them off and then took me into
the house and put me in a shower, and I kind of woke
up and it wore off I guess, the drug I mean. Anyhow I
washed and this stuff was oozing out of me. I was sore
too.”

“They moved away didn’t they, the Sullivans?”

We were in the driveway by then. She nodded. “Then he,
I was still naked and kind of confused, he took me
into the back bedroom and, and, well, he took off his
clothes.” She shook her head. “His thing was really
big and dark. And he turned me over and did me from
behind, grunting and pumping. It hurt, really hurt. I
think he might have used my anus too. I couldn’t think
straight.”

I just shook my head.

“When he pulled out, I rolled over and there was the
girl, the birthday girl, and her big brother. He had
his stiff penis in his hand, and he came over and
stuck it in my mouth.”

‘Shit,” I said, “no wonder you’ve got a problem with
boys.”

She nodded and brushed away a tear.

“Nobody’s home. How about we try to cure it, cure your
problem. Boys aren’t all like that.”

She blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“Let me make love to you, teach you how much fun it
can be.”

She kind of laughed. “I don’t think so.”

“Let me try. You know I love you, always have. I won’t
hurt you, honest.”

She licked her lips, looked up and said, “OK. I’ll
try. I honestly don’t like my reputation, it’s weird.”

So we went up to her bedroom, sat on her bed and I
hugged her and gently kissed her and pretty soon we
were lying back on the bed, our legs hanging and we
were trading spit and I was unbuttoning her blouse.

She sat up quickly and held her shirt together. “No,”
she said loudly, “don’t; I don’t want to.”

I slipped my hands up from behind her, grasped her
luscious breasts and pulled her back to me and turned
her about. We kissed some more and our groins rubbed
together. I’m sure she could tell I was hard.

We lay facing each other, nose to nose. “Well, how do
you feel?” I asked.

She licked her lips. “Excited, wanting more.” And she
kissed me. I peeled off her shirt and unsnapped her
bra.

She whimpered as I sucked her nipples and pulled down
her skirt and underclothes. I kissed her deeply,
tonguing her and she arched up against me, naked, hot
and wet.

I got my pants off, laid her back and spread her legs.
I was maybe a half-foot deep when she looked up into
my eyes, gasped and sobbed, “You’re doing it.”

I smiled and flexed my love muscle. She groaned and I
pressed deeper. It took a while, maybe a half an hour,
but she came twice I’m sure after I pulverized her
clit with my belly hair. When I felt my balls churning
and the lava flowing, I pulled it out and did it in a
tissue, three times I think, and then put her in a
different position and eased it back into her.

Finally we lay together, both of us sweat covered,
spoon fashion with my rod buried in her. She put her
fingers down and petted the shaft, turned her head and
kissed me.

“More,” she said quietly.

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