Whoops!

The Usual Disclaimer: This is a work of fantasy. All characters featured in sexual situations are over 18. The characters in these stories are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons living, dead or undead is purely coincidental. Do not try this at home.

* * * * *

My little sister was always ticklish. When we were kids, I used to chase her around the house and tickle her until she would surrender. Occasionally our mom would be in a lousy mood and she would chastise us when she heard Annette shrieking and trying to get away from me. It was always in fun; I wasn't trying to torture my sister by tickling her. When Annette would breathlessly pant, "I give up!" I would give her a peck on the end of her nose and help her to her feet.

Every once in a while, Annette would just be in a bad mood and wouldn't feel like playing. I could tell the difference when she playfully yelled, "Stop!" and when she was serious. Whenever that happened, I would quickly switch to being her protective older brother. Annette could always trust me not to run my mouth when something was bothering her. She could tell me anything...well, to a point.

Once she started having her periods and menstrual cramps, her "female problems" were a little out of my comfort zone. On the other hand, when she started having crushes on boys I was able to provide some useful insight. I was also there to tower over and intimidate any young guy who was disrespectful to my little sister. I never had to kick anyone's ass for her, but I would have.

After high school, I joined the National Guard. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I would get money for college, plus a few hundred bucks a month. As anyone who has enlisted in the military can tell you, recruiters lie their asses off. This guy assured me, "Oh, if you're in the Guard, you'll probably never get called on to go into a war zone. The last time that happened was back during the Gulf War, and they called up the Army Reserves first."

Bullshit.

After boot camp, I was sent to Advanced Infantry Training in Fort Benning, Georgia. To be honest, that was pretty cool. It isn't for everyone, but I liked getting out there and firing the weapons and participating in most of the training exercises. I felt like a real badass by the time we graduated—an honest-to-goodness killing machine. Then they sent me to join my Guard unit.

In Afghanistan.

I was shocked—at first—but my mother was apoplectic. She called people who were way, way up the chain of command from me, chewing them out and demanding that I be allowed to return home. Mom never told me that was what she was doing; I found out when that shit rolled back down the chain of command to land on me. Fortunately, my platoon leader was pretty cool. Even though he had taken some heat from our unit commander, he took me aside and explained what was going on rather than embarrassing me in front of everyone in the unit.

Still, word got around. I got the nickname "Momma's Boy" for a while. And by "a while" I mean the rest of my tour in Afghanistan. I called her the first chance I got and explained, "Look, Mom, I signed on for this. I'm under contract for two years. This wasn't what I was expecting, but our unit only has three more months here and then we'll all come home. Please stop making those calls. You're only going to get me in trouble."

I wound up lying to my own mother, assuring her it wasn't that bad and that everything would be fine. Before those three months were up, we lost seven guys in my unit. Two of them died and the other five sustained injuries that ended their military careers. Then the United States government decided to extend our unit for another six months. Before that was up, we were extended another year.

My entire two-year stint in the National Guard wound up being spent in Afghanistan. When I was approached about re-enlisting, I gave the guy a one-finger salute. I thought I was pretty clear with that response.

Now, it wasn't like I was constantly in a war zone over there. I did get some leave, but I didn't go home any of those three times. Instead, I basically took a vacation in Europe. Those brief respites kept me sane. Over the two years in Afghanistan, I made several friends among the locals. We couldn't have done our jobs without their help. It wasn't like we were constantly being shot at, but we still couldn't go anywhere without being in full battle fatigues with body armor and weapons loaded. In the heat of the summers it was stifling.

* * *

The flight from Afghanistan to Germany and the one from Germany to the States were Military Airlift Command flights. We were still wearing our uniforms and gear for those. It wasn't until they had me turn in all that gear and I was mustered out of the Guard that I found myself in civvies on a domestic airline flight home. Dad picked me up at the airport and gave me a huge hug.

Man, I cannot begin to tell you how good that felt. It wasn't like I needed a hug, but it was a welcome home that had been two full years in the making. We both had tears in our eyes when he finally released me.

"Your mother wanted to be here so bad," he said, shaking his head. "She had already made all her reservations for this business conference before she realized..."

"It's fine, Dad," I grinned. "You know she would be breaking down in tears if she was here. Oh, here's my bag."

I heard him chuckle as I picked up that duffel bag. It seemed awfully light, now.

"You look like you're in pretty good shape," he commented as I tossed the bag over my shoulder and we walked out of the terminal.

"Yes sir, I guess I am," I said.

On the drive to the house, Dad said, "Oh, I will be heading out pretty early in the morning. I'm working a 'camp' for some of our remedial kids this summer. It's only two more weeks. Your mother will be back in three days. Once we wrap up this camp, I want to do something as a family. We talked about it a bit, but hadn't really come up with 'just the thing.' If you can think of something great, I'd appreciate it."

My dad was a teacher, and had been my entire life. Most summers he would wind up doing something like this for the school district, so it wasn't a surprise. Mom was in one of those "it's not a pyramid scheme" businesses. She had started off selling makeup, but she had moved up in the company and spent most of her time recruiting and training other women. These business conferences, seminars and retreats had been a part of her life for the past decade.

I nodded. "I'll think about it," I said. Then I had to suppress a yawn. It was almost two in the morning, and I felt like I had been in constant motion for the past three days. I realized I was grinning like an idiot when we drove into our neighborhood and I saw the house. My room was almost exactly as I had left it two years ago, except it was obviously cleaner. I collapsed into my bed as soon as I stripped off my shirt, jeans and socks, and was asleep instantly.

* * *

I slept in the next morning until the sun streaming in through the blinds woke me. It took me a moment to realize I was home. A smile spread over my face just savoring that thought. I am home. I made it! I got out of the bed and stretched lazily. For the first time in two years, I didn't have to get dressed immediately in my uniform. It felt gloriously decadent to walk out the bedroom door wearing only boxers and my undershirt.

I sauntered into the bathroom to relieve my bladder. It took a while, since my "morning wood" stubbornly refused to go away. Once I had finished urinating, it hardened again when I shook out the last few drops. I sighed as I looked down at my throbbing boner. I needed to get laid, but I didn't know if any of my former girlfriends were still around, or available, or interested. It might be a while. I tucked that rampant trouser snake into my boxers and washed my hands and face before heading out to get some breakfast.

I couldn't suppress my grin when I saw my sister with her back to me in the kitchen. She was taller than I remembered her after two years, but I recognized her favorite t-shirt. I crept up behind her and my fingers slipped to her sides to tickle her ribs. Annette let out a blood-curdling shriek and spun around with her eyes wide in terror.

I held up my hands in front of me defensively. "Annette! It's me, Brian! Calm down."

I really hadn't thought it through, obviously. After all this time, she wasn't expecting me to be there. She started slapping at me with both hands, and I blocked those half-hearted blows with my forearms.

"You jerk!" she hissed. "You scared the crap out of me!"

I narrowed my eyes and hers went wide in response. "Oh, no," she muttered, shaking her head.

"Oh, yes!" I countered, once again going after her ribs.

She managed to spin away from me, giggling as she sprinted for her room. I bolted after her, but I had noticed that my sister hadn't merely gotten taller. Her body was no longer that of a scrawny little girl. That old t-shirt was snug around her prominent breasts and her hips were obviously wider. It wasn't something I was really thinking about at the moment—I was intent on catching her and tickling her into submission as I had done for so many years.

I caught up when she reached her doorway. She turned to slam her door, but I was too fast. Annette shrieked playfully as I tickled her, backpedaling toward her bed and swatting at my hands. At that point there was a disconnect between my eyes and the rest of my body. My hands were on autopilot, seeking out my sister's ticklish spots with unerring accuracy and avoiding her attempts to fend me off.

My eyes were suddenly captivated by hard nipples standing out prominently right in front of me. Through that threadbare old t-shirt, my sister's impressive breasts were almost completely visible. Her darker nipples and the circles of her aureoles stood out proudly, waving around enticingly as Annette giggled and bounced around in my grasp.

She kept backpedaling until the backs of her thighs hit her mattress, and then she lost her balance and fell back into the bed. She was at my mercy, giggling helplessly and attempting to scoot away from me on her back. I followed her and kept tickling her. I couldn't stop grinning. I had missed this so much.

Finally, Annette gasped, "I surrender!" and she threw up her hands over her head.

I was crouched above her in the bed. We smiled at each other and panted. I put my hands on either side of her ribcage and leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose, as I had so many times before. Annette's eyes shot open just as I felt something wonderfully hot and wet around the head of my hard cock.

I blinked as I looked into her eyes, unable to stop my hips as they pressed forward. More of my cock sank into that welcoming, wet embrace. Annette let out a soft, "Oh!" and that snapped me out of it. I stopped pushing into her and looked down. I mean, I knew what had happened, but it was still a shock to look at my sister's pussy for the first time and to see the shaft of my dick stretching it wide open.

Annette had a lovely little fuzzy pussy. Her legs were spread open on either side of my thighs. I watched in disbelief as I pulled my cock back out of her an inch and then pushed it back in. My eyes wandered back up her body, taking note of her rock-hard nipples and heaving breasts before I once again met her eyes.

"You're not wearing any panties," I gasped. I felt like an idiot as soon as I said it.

Annette bit her lip and shook her head. We were both still panting. It just felt unreal to me, like this couldn't be happening. At the same time, her pussy felt like moist perfection as it squeezed my dick. Annette's teeth released her lip and her mouth opened wide as I pushed the rest of my shaft inside her.

Her eyes were wild as she looked up into my face. My sister brought her hands up to my shoulders and they fluttered as they touched me. She looked so sexy and helpless in that moment, and her snug pussy felt impossibly good wrapped around me. It felt even better when I pulled my cock back and slid it smoothly inside her again. We both groaned at that incredible sensation.

It had been almost a year since I had enjoyed the feel of a woman's pussy wrapped around my cock like this. I had hooked up with a German girl near Frankfurt after a night out at the clubs. She had been blonde and very thin, in stark contrast to my sister's dark curly hair and voluptuous curves.

I savored her tight wetness around me until I felt her nails dig into my shoulders and she gasped, "Oh, Brian!"

That stopped me cold. I shuddered as I pulled my entire length out of her and pushed myself back onto my feet. We both stared at my glistening cock as it pulsed in front of me, sticking straight out of the front of my boxers. I worked my tongue around in my mouth to get some saliva going.

"I'm so sorry," I panted. "It just felt so good. I didn't want to stop. I didn't mean to..."

Annette nodded, sitting up in the bed. She was still out of breath. "It's—" she started, and then panted a couple more times. "I understand."

She seemed reluctant to close her legs and I had a tough time keeping my eyes off of her sexy body. My legs were shaking and I was still completely hard.

I need to get out of here! I thought abruptly. "Sorry!" I panted again, turning and walking quickly out her door.

* * *

I grabbed a change of clothes and took a shower. At the end, I turned off the hot water and stood in the chill spray for several minutes. It almost made my hard-on go away.

I guess we were fortunate that our parents were out. It gave us the privacy we needed to try to talk about what had happened. Obviously, it wasn't an easy conversation to have. Annette was still wearing that same t-shirt and obviously hadn't put on a bra. She was wearing loose cotton shorts, though. Embarrassingly, the only shorts I had were from before I had left for boot camp two years earlier. They were awfully snug now.

I had put on thirty pounds since I had gone away, most of it muscle and a lot of it in my thighs and butt. Even though I was wearing boxers, my dick was clearly outlined by the snug cotton of my shorts. I imagined my old cargo shorts wouldn't even fit anymore. Annette and I looked each over quickly and both licked our lips nervously. Then we shared a nervous grin and she chuckled softly.

"I guess I'll have to get into the habit of wearing panties, now that you're back," she murmured. I blushed, but before I could stammer out another apology she went on. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to give you a hard time," she whispered. "I know you didn't do it on purpose."

"Yeah," I muttered in reply. "Whoops."

We both chuckled and shook our heads. Annette patted the couch next to her.

"Come have a seat," she said.

I hesitated. "Actually, I never got breakfast," I finally said, spreading my hands in a helpless gesture. "I probably ought to eat something."

She nodded back at me and stood, which caused her breasts to wobble enticingly. She grinned when she caught me looking. "I was rudely interrupted when I tried to get the milk," she replied. "Truce?"

"Truce," I agreed.

That had been our agreed-upon signal that no tickling would take place, ever since I was eleven and she was nine. We walked out to the kitchen together and got cereal and milk, sitting down at the dining room table to eat quietly and think over what we would say. Although we didn't say anything, we kept looking at each other as we crunched the cereal in our mouths. Eventually, we finished it and still didn't know what to say. I got up and went to the kitchen first, putting away the milk and starting the water in the sink.

Annette followed shortly afterward, and I stepped aside to let her use the sink when my bowl and spoon were clean. I was surprised to stand up after putting my dishes in the dishwasher; she was blushing and had obviously been checking out my ass. I raised an eyebrow and she bit her lip and shook her head before turning off the water and shaking off her bowl and spoon.

As soon as she had put them in the dishwasher and stood up, I slid up behind her. "Truce over?" I murmured into her ear.

"Please don't," she whispered. "We really need to talk about what happened."

I nodded, but couldn't help but notice how hard her nipples were when she turned around. I swallowed hard and tried to think of something to say. "Oh!" I blurted, "Dad said we should think of something to do as a family once he wraps up his camp."

Annette cocked her head and creased her brow as she regarded me. "I don't see what that has to do with what happened earlier," she said.

"Nothing, I guess," I replied lamely. "I was just trying to think of something to say besides 'I'm sorry I slipped my dick into you.'"

That earned me a grin. I realized in that moment just what a beautiful young woman my sister was. My gaze had been so captivated by her body earlier that I hadn't really appreciated her lovely face.

"I guess that was my fault, really," she murmured. "After you left, I was home alone so often that I got into the habit of sleeping without panties. Last summer and this summer, when I knew Dad was going to be out, I just wandered around the house like that. I knew you were coming home, but it didn't occur to me to change that...um...habit."

"The sad thing is, I haven't been able to get out of bed and leave my tent the past two years without getting into full battle gear," I said, shaking my head sadly. "I was jazzed to finally get the chance to walk around in nothing but boxers and a t-shirt."

"Wait, you lived in a tent the whole time?" she asked in disbelief.

"Most of the time," I shrugged. "I mean, they were big tents. More like portable buildings than the ones we used when we went camping as kids."

That got us onto an entirely new conversation about my experience in Afghanistan. We wound up not even talking about what had happened earlier. We also talked about Annette's last two years of high school, and the guys she had been dating. Then Dad came home, and we really didn't have the chance to talk about what had happened earlier.

He joined us and asked all sorts of questions, and I told them a bunch of my stories. I didn't tell them any of the combat experiences, just the little day-to-day things with the people in my unit and some of the friends I'd made over there. We had lunch together and my mom called shortly after that to talk to me. She sounded happy over the phone, although she apologized for not being at the airport the night before.

"It was fine, Mom," I reassured her. "I got in so late that I went right to bed as soon as we got to the house. I wouldn't have been a great conversationalist. It was a really long week before I got home."

I was surprised to feel Annette's hands on my shoulders and glanced up at her. She was smiling down at me as she massaged my shoulders and neck. It felt really good and I didn't realize how tense I had been until those muscles started to relax.

After I got off the phone, Annette and I went out shopping. I needed new clothes that fit—especially shorts—and she had her own car. When we had pulled out of the driveway, she murmured, "I probably need to get some new underwear while we're out."

"Why is that?" I asked.

She blushed slightly and shook her head. After a minute or two, she said, "You know, you're right. The underwear I have is fine. I don't know why I thought it would be a big deal."

"Big deal" is not how I would describe my sister's panties. It turned out that they were all tiny, and mostly thongs, but I digress.

We went to the local Wal-Mart and I got some comfortable shorts. I modeled a few pairs of them for my sister. It was a little disconcerting the way that she looked intently at my crotch every time, but that was the point. I was trying to get shorts that didn't make my dick easy for her to see. I grabbed some new t-shirts as well. My sister's eyes lit up when she saw one of them—a black shirt with the Superman logo on it.