My Sister And Her Friends Part – 1

I stumbled from the car, catching my foot on the curb and almost face-planting into the concrete sidewalk. I only saved myself from severe facial injuries by grabbing the mailbox.

The wooden post creaked as it flexed under my weight. It was a good call to leave my car downtown, even if it would be another $40 that I did not have, to get it in the morning.


The surge pricing of the Uber ride, combined with the last round of drinks, which I bought for my friends, was already enough to place my checking account into single digits.

The lowest it had been since I was flush with cash from my student loan deposit in January. Somehow, I would need to scrape by for the remainder of the summer, at least if I wanted to keep drinking.

Ultimately, it didn’t matter that I was broke. Living at home for the summer, my parents would pay for everything essential until I returned to school in a month. I didn’t want to spend the last summer of college at home with my parents and my dorky little sister, but at least I wasn’t going to be starving for the next thirty days. Nor would I have to get a job unless I wanted to, which I certainly didn’t.

I was supposed to be living it up in an off-campus house with three of my college friends, trying to score with the underclassmen, but our lease fell through at the last minute. Something about an arrest for disturbing the peace. John claimed that it was from a protest he attended the summer after high school, but I was sure that wasn’t the entire story. No matter, the house was no longer ours, and I was stuck at home until I found a new place. Hopefully, one not patrolled by overzealous residential advisors.

Managing to steady myself, I made it to the front door without serious incident. I may have stepped in a flower bed, but the damage wasn’t noticeable. As I fumbled with my keys, unable to find the correct fit, the door swung open. I stood there dazed. I was not expecting anyone to be home. My parents had taken a weekend trip to visit my aunt, who recently birthed her first child, and my sister was supposed to be spending the night at a friend’s house.

Standing before me was a bubbly blonde, bouncing on her toes as she gave me a once over, her breasts following suit beneath her oversized t-shirt, no bra holding them in place. The shirt was long enough that it hid whatever bottoms, if any, that she had on. She was short, maybe standing 5 feet, but her legs looked strong and athletic, with her smooth skin displaying an even tan for as high as I could see. I didn’t immediately recognize her, but she knew who I was.

“Oh, hi Bobby. We weren’t expecting you home tonight,” the mystery girl said, feigning disappointment, “I was hoping you were a stripper.”

“A stripper?” I said, trying to comprehend what she had just said. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

“I hope you didn’t drive,” she said with an air of judgment.

“I took an Uber,” I paused, struggling to remember which friend of my sister this was, “Ashley.”

I hadn’t seen her in at least three years, and boy had she grown up. Maybe not in height, but the last time I laid eyes on her, she had been flat-chested without any shape to her hips. Now she looked like a woman, albeit a short one. Her face still had some baby fat, enhancing her cuteness, adding an air of innocence to her seductive curves.

“Well, don’t just stand there. We’re about to play a game. Come join us,” Ashley said, as she bounced towards the living room.

I watched as the hem of her shirt rose and fell, not high enough to answer my question but sufficient to confirm that it wasn’t shorts. Drunk and with nothing better to do, I followed the 18-year-old towards the sounds of several more teenage girls. I figured that I would play a round or two of whatever board game they had dug up in the basement. I needed to wind down from the bar before I could sleep anyway. Plus, if the others looked anything like Ashley, then why not enjoy the eye candy?

There were four more in the living room. My sister, Sarah, and three vaguely familiar faces, all friends who, like Ashley, had matured since the last time I saw them. Despite not being home much the previous three years, I had managed to make it to a few holidays. I had seen Sarah go from a mousy underdeveloped soon-to-be high school sophomore to a confident young woman on her way to college. The other four ladies in front of me had seemingly ripened overnight. It made me feel old.

They had gone from timid and pimple-faced to confident and sexually appealing. When I was a senior, they were freshmen, and I would never have considered dating any of them. Now, standing in my living room, I could not help but admire their faces and especially their bodies, which displayed ample amounts of skin.

Ashley plopped herself on the floor, crossing her legs, her t-shirt pulled apart, leaving a tantalizing gap. Unfortunately, the lighting was such that it was only dark between her legs. Bella sat next to her, wearing a white tank top that hugged her medium-sized breasts, the dark of her areolas showing through the thin fabric. A strip of caramel-colored skin peeked out between her top and her satin booty shorts. Her legs were pulled up, a hint of camel toe showed where the shorts pulled tight against her crotch, her ass cheeks hanging out the bottom. Bella’s grandparents had immigrated from Mexico, but her features were predominately European, having descended from the Spanish Conquistadors.

Moving around the circle, I set my eyes on Candace, a thin black girl who was the star of the cross-country team. She sat on the floor with her back hunched, wearing a sports bra and high-cut running shorts. Her hair was natural, a small afro forming after having it cut short during the race season. She was shy, especially in comparison to Ashley’s overly outgoing personality.

Dee finished out the friends on the floor. She was of Korean ancestry, but she bucked the stereotypes of being flat-chested by having a similar body to Ashley, with Ample breasts on an otherwise petite athletic frame. My eyes lingered on her, not because of her looks, but because she was wearing lingerie. An odd choice for a friendly sleepover. A white babydoll cupped her breasts, loosely falling down her body. She was sitting on her knees, the fabric laying across her lap, so it was hard to tell how short the outfit was or if she was wearing anything underneath. I thought I could make out a hint of nipple centered on each breast. The idea of sneaking an unseen peek was almost better than if it was decidedly noticeable.

The four girls all looked back at me as I examined them. I was trying not to stare. Each of them was beautiful in their own way, fighting for my attention, pulling my gaze from one to another. I decided I should sit before I made a fool of myself, or worse, my cock decided to pitch a tent for all to see. I was drunk enough, and they were sexy enough, so this was a distinct possibility. I relaxed next to my sister on the couch, the one girl that was not gawking at me like a prized cow up for auction at the county fair.

My sister was also a runner. Her body was similar to Candace’s, if only in form, but their skin could not have been more different. Sarah had the pasty skin of a ginger. So pale that she sported the thick white sunblock on her nose and cheeks during her cross country meets, often opting for long sleeves, even on the hottest days. I guess a bit more sweat was worth avoiding the pain of a sunburn. Her red hair completed her Irish palette, which she inherited from our dad. I had received the brown hair and tannable skin of my mom’s family, giving me a distinct advantage in summer activities and avoiding embarrassing prophylactic measures. The genetics did not make sense to me, but then again, I never took more than high school biology.

Sarah was wearing an oversized t-shirt. Unlike Ashley, her small breasts were motionless under the material. Not that I would have paid any attention to them anyway, as I never thought of my sister as a sexual being. Not because she used to be a dork or because she was not good-looking. It was that she was my sibling. She had turned into a beautiful young woman, but my mind never went there. Thank God for the Westermarck effect, otherwise, I might have been some kind of pervert.

Leaning into the cushions, I spread my arms along the back of the sofa, looking towards Ashley.

“I thought you said we were playing a game. Where’s the board?” I said, motioning towards the empty spot in the center of the circle.

“We’re not playing a board game, silly. We’re playing Truth or Dare,” Ashley replied.

“Oh fuck that. The last time I played was in 9th grade. It sucked then, and it’ll suck now. Don’t you have anything better to play?” I quipped back.

“Don’t be a spoilsport. It probably only sucked because you were playing with a bunch of pussies. I promise we’ll make it worth your time.”

“I doubt that,” I stalled. I didn’t want to go to sleep quite yet, “but, I guess, I’ll play a few rounds.”

The truth was that I wanted to see where the game would go. I didn’t have high hopes but being the only guy amongst all these attractive girls gave me cause to dream. Best case scenario, I ended up with one in my bed, and at the very least, I might learn some secrets that I could hold against my sister.

“I’ll go first,” my sister spoke up. “If you get challenged, you get to go next. Deal?”

The rest of us responded in the affirmative as my sister looked from face to face, pretending to think deeply about who would be the best victim for her devious mind. Despite the posturing, she quickly revealed the reason she wanted to go first.

“Bobby, truth or dare?”

I did not even stop to think about it. I was more comfortable doing something foolish on a dare than I was revealing a secret to my sister, much less the other four girls. I could always pass off the behavior as a result of being drunk and told to do it, but saying the wrong thing on truth was potentially devastating. Those were the things that stay with you.


“Give us the key to Mom and Dad’s liquor cabinet.”

I realized that it didn’t matter if I had picked truth or dare, Sarah would’ve asked for the same information. If my parents found out that I let my 18-year-old sister in on the secrets of the liquor cabinet, I would be toast. Who knows what they would do? They had made a big deal about letting me know when I returned home after turning 21, and even then, they seemed hesitant to trust me. I hoped this did not cause them to cut me off, even for the summer. At least choosing dare allowed me to maintain the secrecy of the hiding spot, for now.

“I will get it for you tonight, but you have to promise not to abuse it, nor can you follow me to see where Mom and Dad hide it.”


I made my way towards the dining room, checking to make sure I was not being followed. The mystery of the key was not as fancy as my parents made it out to be. They simply hid it beneath the wooden lip of the cabinet near the floor. It was a good hiding spot as it was hard to check under there, and once you knew where it was, you could swiftly retrieve it.

“Make sure to give it back before the morning,” I said, as I dangled the key from the tip of my middle finger.

“Deal. It’s your turn,” my sister responded, as she plucked the key from my finger.

I stared from girl to girl, looking deep into their eyes, trying to see if any of them flinched. I wanted the one that was most afraid to be picked. They would always go for truth, and truth was an easy way to start the game in the right direction. If you dare someone to do something beyond their limits, they’ll bail on the game, often causing it to collapse before it started. If you asked a risqué truth, people would squirm in their seats, but ultimately they would choose to lie if you pushed them too far. I never saw anyone abandon because of a truth. After a few salacious questions, people would loosen up and eventually steer away from truths, in theory, leading to more adventurous dares.

Candace studied the floor when I tried to meet her eyes. She would be my victim. I only needed to figure out what to ask when she inevitably picked truth.

“Candace. Truth or dare?”

She hesitated in her response, starting to answer several times, then stopping to reconsider her answer, only to settle on the predicted, truth.

I figured I would start with a question that was not about her. This would not make it easy, as she would have to dish on one of her friends. This would, hopefully, lead to infighting, causing them to up the ante on each other in the subsequent rounds.

“Which of your friends is the biggest slut?”

“That’s here tonight?” Candace clarified.

“Of course.”

I could tell that she already knew the answer, but she didn’t want to offend anyone. Sheepishly, she raised her eyes to look at Dee, trying to convey an apology. Dee, for her part, didn’t seem to fear the impending revelation.

“I don’t think any of them’s a slut.”

“You have to pick one. Let’s not say slut. Let’s say sexually experienced. Is that better?”

“Well… in that case, I would have to say, Dee.”

Dee smiled and shrugged her shoulders, owning her behavior and not holding it against Candace for outing her. Across the circle, Ashley rolled her eyes as if she disagreed with Candace’s answer. I could not tell if she felt personally snubbed or thought another girl took the cake. Either way, it seemed to get under Ashley’s skin, feasibly leading to retaliatory questions.

Candace was next to pick the victim, hesitating only slightly before she focused on my sister.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” my Sarah quickly replied, ending the sting of truths from the girls.

“Sarah, I dare you to make us all drinks.”

The dare was straightforward and would grease the wheels, but I was already starting to lose patience with how long it would take to get anywhere fun. Four sexy girls were sitting in front of me, and I would have loved to make out, or more, with any of them, but I was growing tired and did not think I would be able to stay awake long enough for anything to happen.

“None for me, thanks,” I told my sister as she rose, “and make sure to spread it out from different bottles. It will be too obvious if you only use one.”

After some awkward clinking and clanking and several trips between the kitchen and dining room, Sarah finally made it back into the living room with a tray full of drinks. There did not seem to be much method to their distribution. No pausing to give anyone their favorite cocktail. Sarah handed one to each of us, with no regard for who liked what. Despite my attempts to decline my drink, she shoved the penultimate glass at me before sitting on the sofa.

I reluctantly took the vessel. The cup smelled like a Jack and Coke, mostly Jack. I had no desire to increase my intoxication, so I set it to the side, hoping my abstinence would go unnoticed. My sister and her friends were still well within the age of not caring what a drink tasted like, only worrying about how drunk it got you. In a few more years, they would look back on this time and realize how stupid they’d been, just like the rest of us usually do. Although, it takes some longer to develop a discerning palette.

“My turn,” my sister blurted out after a big sip. “Ashley, truth or dare?”

“Ummm… Truth.”

“Who do you have a crush on?”

This was what I feared. The girls would get bogged down with crush this and most hated that, and the game would not develop into something more adventurous. It’s how it usually played out. Everyone got excited about Truth or Dare because there’s a chance that people would do some crazy shit. In the end, everyone picked truth because they were afraid of being dared to do something they feared. I never understood this. If you wanted to play in the first place, it was because you hoped it to turn sexual, not because you needed to find out who has a crush on who. If you want it to turn physical, then you need to take a risk and pick dare. Even then, most people are afraid to suggest a dare that’s more than kissing or some minor nudity.

Ashley lifted her head with a little smile and stared right at me. I was taken aback. Did she have a crush on me? If so, that would explain her excitement when I came home and her eagerness to invite me to join the game, but maybe I was reading too much into body language. I keenly awaited her answer.

“Oh, come on Sarah, you know I have had a thing for Ken for years now. Let’s step things up a notch. Bobby, truth or dare?”

“Dare. These truths are getting boring.”

It was true. I wasn’t interested in anything these girls were hiding. Unless it was a secret desire to sneak into my bed later in the night when my sister was fast asleep.

“Well, in that case,” Ashley paused, “I dare you to chug your drink, which you haven’t touched by the way.”

Shit. Didn’t she realize I was already drunk? They needed to catch up to me, not send me to my grave. I was marginally confident that I wouldn’t puke if I finished the drink, but I wasn’t certain I would remain awake. I was on the verge of sleep, and another few shots were going to send me tumbling down the cliff leading to my bed.

“I am already pretty drunk –“

“Shut up and drink it, you wuss,” Ashley interrupted my protest.

I always had a thing for bossy girls. Not that I wanted to marry them, but it was fun to have them tell me what to do for an evening or two, especially if things headed towards the bedroom. Ashley seemed to be one of these girls. I was sure that she demanded what she wanted between the sheets, and I would be happy to give her whatever she desired. With that thought in my head, I reached for my glass. I slowly raised it to my lips, trying to build suspense, before tossing it back in one gulp. I’m glad I did because it tasted like straight Jack, which is to say it tasted like burnt toast. Making a face to match my disgust, I turned my attention to Dee, who, along with Bella, had been excluded from the game thus far.

“Truth or Dare.”

“Truth,” Dee said instantly.

Another truth. What was with these girls? Didn’t they want to have fun? I knew next to nothing about Dee, so I wasn’t sure what would make her squirm. I wished I could personalize the question. Instead, I ended up asking something generic, but that could potentially lead to fun later.

“Out of everyone in this room, who do you think is the best at oral sex?”

It was a question I honestly wanted the answer to. Hell, I would’ve loved to conduct an experiment right then and there. Line each girl up and let them suck my cock, then we would know who gave the best blowjob. It would take a miracle, however, for us to get anywhere near that. At the rate the game was progressing, there was little hope of a sexually charged game emerging.

“Are we talking sucking dick or eating pussy?” Dee queried.

I was caught off guard by her frankness and use of crude terms. Not that I would have been any less surprised if she had said fellatio and cunnilingus. Additionally, I was disappointed in myself for not thinking about the options she set before me. I had self-centeredly thought of myself being serviced when asking the question, hoping to get a recommendation for later. Now I was equally curious about who she thought would make the best carpet muncher.

“How about one for each?”

Dee did not have to look around the room or think about it. She knew the answer to both questions straight away. I’m not sure if this was from personal experience, hearsay, or a guess based on the size and shape of their tongues. No matter how she got to her conclusion, the answer came swiftly.

“Ashley sucks the best cock, and Sarah eats the best pussy.”

My sister blushed next to me while Ashley smiled with pride, finally getting the recognition that she had missed out on by not being named the biggest slut. My sister, on the other hand, was embarrassed. I could not tell if it was because she had just been outed or if she was simply uncomfortable being connected to a lesbian activity. Neither one made a difference to me. Part of me had always wished my sister was a lesbian so that we could one day sit around and talk about which girls were hot, just like two brothers might do.


Continue Reading: My Sister And Her Friends Part – 2