I spent days getting my battle plan ready. As soon as I heard that Genie was going to be out of town, I started getting prepared.

My first act was to call Genie. Have her give me permission for what I was going to do. Or at least a small part of it. Enough that I could proceed without drawing suspicion.

"Genie, Mom told me that you were going on a business trip next weekend. It will be my first free weekend of the summer, and I was hoping you'd let me come over and lounge in your pool." Genie's very proud of her pool, and loves to let friends and family use it. "Do you think it would be okay if I came over anyway?"

"Sure, Chris, no problem. Pete will be ... hold on ... yeah, Pete will be home all weekend. He can make sure you don't drown yourself!"

Honestly, I thought, she still thinks I'm a kid. They both do. That would change.


When Pete first came to our house, I was ten years old. Impressions tend to stay fixed even in the face of evidence, and Pete had always thought of me as Genie's little kid sister. He wasn't really aware that I had gained nine years since then. Genie thought of me as being even younger, I'm sure. Lately Pete had been looking slightly puzzled when he saw me, as if something about me didn't quite fit. It was probably that I had become five inches taller and two or three cup sizes larger than his wife. It didn't gel with the little sister image.

I was a college biology major, and planned to go to medical school. Would they think of me as a pre-teen when I earned my MD?


I shopped around for just the right clothes. Bought a new bathing suit. I had always worn a very modest one-piece when I used their pool. This new one was a little different. The thinnest white cotton shorts I could find, so snug that putting them on almost needed a shoe-horn. Gauzy white cotton shirt, carefully selected.

I called Pete late Friday evening. God, I thought, he has a sexy voice. When I was about fourteen, just learning about boys, I'd stay in the room with Genie and Pete when they would visit, just so that I could listen to him. That was partly why I called; hearing him would strengthen my resolve. Yes, Genie's in LA, he's expecting a call from her any moment. Yes, I'm welcome to come over in the morning. Yes, since I'm not bringing any friends, he will be happy to join me.

Boyfriends had never measured up to my impression of Pete. In high school, my girlfriends were into "bed buddies", casual sex with the boys in class, playing hookey for an afternoon of screwing in Mom and Dad's bed. I say my girlfriends, but I guess I did my share. It's just that it seemed so pointless. The boys, even the ones my friends claimed were "good", seemed so immature. I found that if I fantasized that my afternoon lover was Pete, not some seventeen-year-old kid, I'd get really aroused, and the poor kid wouldn't know what had hit him. Although I was generally more reserved than my friends, word got around that I was dynamite in bed. The guys seemed to find the experience mind-blowing, but I'd be disappointed by the reality.

Occasionally I'd find myself feeling really horny - usually after Genie and Pete visited - and I'd choose one of the boys and screw his brains out. It was never all that great, but it was almost worthwhile to see how a night with Christine (usually just a couple of hours in the early evening) would undermine the social standings in class.

The situation at college wasn't much better. The guys were more mature, certainly, but the best were buried in work, the jocks didn't have Pete's gentleness, and the rest were mainly ineffectual.

Disillusioned with the alternatives, I decided to go for the gold.


I arrived at ten a.m., wearing my swimsuit underneath my shirt and shorts. I got Pete a beer, and a diet coke for myself. We sat out in the Texas sun. It was pleasant, but predictions were for upper nineties later in the day.

We talked while we finished our beers. When we were through, I asked him if he were ready for a dip. He went inside to get changed, and came back out in his swimsuit. I waited until he returned to take off my shorts. He knew I'd be wearing my swimsuit, so he wasn't perturbed. It was when I slipped off my shirt that he got a shock.

I was not wearing the one-piece that he was used to. My new suit was a very low-cut triangle-top bikini, in eye-catching red. It drew his eyes right where I wanted them to be. The top was cut so low that the darkening around my nipple was just visible. He wouldn't see this as a calculated effort to turn him on. He may have thought I'd accidentally selected a swimsuit which exposed more of me than I realize. He wouldn't know I spent three hours in front of store changing room mirrors to get exactly the right effect.

I casually hitched the top, not to reduce what it exposed, but to draw his eyes back to it. It worked.

We climbed into the pool. As we swam, I contrived to touch him often, and especially to lean my breasts against him. Larger than average boobs can be more trouble than they're worth, but I was determined to make them earn their keep.

We chased each other round the pool, splashing. I dove and came up right in front of him. I leaped up onto him, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs about his waist, "so that he couldn't splash me anymore". I made him walk around the pool with me hanging from him. We were both giggling, and if he wasn't as aware as I was that my bikini top was three inches below his chin, he must be dead.

Finally, I unwrapped my legs and slid off him. I brushed against his swimsuit as I lowered myself to the ground, and distinctly felt something hard. No, not dead.


Eventually, we climbed out of the pool. I slipped my shirt on without drying off, and tied it at my waist. I nonchalantly reached up and unhooked the bikini top and slipped it off. Again, it was an innocent-looking move, but was anything but. Seeing an attractive woman remove her bra, even if her boobs remain hidden, is a huge turn-on for most men. But this shirt wasn't intended to hide them.

Because I didn't towel off, my shirt was quite wet, especially where it had rested on the bikini top. For all intents and purposes - or, certainly, for my intents and purposes - I had just become a one-girl wet tee shirt contest, although the thin cotton was more revealing than a tee shirt. I tugged the bottom of the tight around my waist, and I might as well have been wearing clear plastic.

Pete was only drying a few inches above and below his swimsuit, using his towel to hide the effect I was having on him. I dried my legs and wrapped my towel around my waist. Then I removed my bikini bottoms and struggled into my shorts. The thin, tight shorts could certainly have disclosed whether I was wearing underwear, had I not rendered the question beyond dispute.

I went into the house and got another beer for Pete and Diet Coke for me. We stood very close on the patio drinking them.


I rolled my swimsuit into my towel, and we went inside. I tossed the roll onto a chair, claiming it. Pete sat in the couch, towel still wrapped around his waist. Rather than sit, though, I walked behind the couch, and leaned over. I told Pete that he seemed tense, and I started to knead the muscles in his shoulder. He denied that he was, but of course he was tense, and I knew why. Working on his shoulders for a while did relax him, though.

I moved back to the couch, and sat beside him. I faced away, and told him that it was his turn. I reminded him of how he used to ease my tension when I came home after a day working out with the drill team. I leaned back into his hands as he massaged the muscles in my shoulders, his powerful hands stretching and easing the tautness there.

I asked him if he'd mind to work further down on my back, and he told me to lie face down on the couch. I couldn't get comfortable, so I asked if I could lie on a bed. He took me to the master bedroom, where I lay on the edge of the bed and he kneaded my upper and lower back.

He worked all the way down to massaging my behind, which was a pleasant surprise. Asking for that might have been pushing my luck. His hands lingered there, as he began to respond to his feelings.

I told him how wonderful the rub felt. He was working away the tension of half a semester's college. Then I asked him if he thought Genie would mind if we used a little of her massage oil. Of course, she wouldn't mind.


When Pete returned with the oil, there wasn't much he could work on through my clothes. I pulled my shirt up to my shoulder blades, so that he could reach my back. His hands stroked my skin with sensitivity. Powerful, but gentle, and I felt small thrills as he touched me. He worked on my exposed back for a while, then slid his hands up under my shirt to massage my shoulder blades.

I asked him to close his eyes for a moment. I took off my shorts and slipped under the sheet. I untied my shirt, slipped it off, and lay back down. I pulled the sheet down so that it was not quite exposing my ass. I put a pillow under my head, which lifted me enough that my breasts were slightly exposed. Then I lay my hands along my sides, hiding them.

I told Pete that he was safe to open his eyes, and safe to massage my buns, as long as he was careful not to move the sheet too far. Though, of course, the more he moved the sheet, the better it would suit me.

When he started to work on the edge of my back, I helpfully folded my hands under my head, giving him easy access to my sides, and incidentally a brief view of most of my breast. When his hands reached my sides, they lingered, manipulating closer and closer to my breast. I encouraged him by telling him how good he made me feel.

He finally dragged himself away from the lure of my breasts, and massaged my lower back and my butt. I made sighing, encouraging noises, and he pushed in firmly with his thumbs and worked my ass over thoroughly. The kneading motion stimulated me, and I started getting wet. I suggested that he would reach me more evenly if he were behind me on the bed, and he climbed up and straddled my legs. The sheet had slid a long way down, and I'm sure he had a great view. He made no attempt to straighten it.

When he returned to massaging my upper back, he seemed to be having trouble keeping his mind on his work. His hands lingered closer to my breasts, though still he stopped barely short of touching them.

I asked him to sit up for a moment. I reached down and pulled the sheet up to my neck. I turned over onto my back and slid the sheet back down to expose my shoulders. I asked him to start working on my front. He manipulated my shoulders, neck and the muscles of my face. It wasn't long before he was drawn back to my breasts, and he was pressing down on my upper chest and kneading under my arms.


I reached up to his shoulders and squeezed them. The sheet came dangerously close to sliding down. I pulled his face down to mine and kissed him. He responded tentatively. After a moment, I pushed him away, and sat up, allowing the sheet to fall. His eyes were wide. I put my arms behind his neck, pulled his face to me, and locked my lips and tongue against his. As he succumbed he started to stroke his hands across the edge of my breasts and return this kiss with increasing depth.

His arousal became intense as he cupped my breasts and squeezed. I pulled back from him and lifted the sheet. He slid down into the bed beside me. Our hands and mouths explored each other.

I put his face against my breast, and his expression was ecstatic as he took my nipple into his mouth. He seemed completely in awe of my large boobs, and kept rubbing his tongue and his face on them and between them.

I rolled him onto his back and kissed his chest. I slid down and, with great difficulty, pulled his swimsuit off. His cock straightened out, beautiful, wide and long. I took it in my hand and licked the head. Not for long, though. I pushed myself back up onto his chest, and lay there, holding him. Then I reached down and took his cock in my hand, stroking it against my pussy. There was anguish in his eyes. He knew we have gone too far to stop, but he still thought he should try, that he mustn't be unfaithful to Genie.

I pushed him into me and ended the argument.

I relaxed, moving slowly, as I slowly took his whole length inside me. He started moving, doubts resolved, or at least swept aside. I had dreamed of this moment for so many years that the feel of his warm, rock-hard shaft inside me almost made me come. He gasped as my pussy tightened around him. We moved slowly, seeking lasting pleasure. The dreamy, joyful look on his face almost took me right back to the brink of orgasm, as I realized the power I had over him. I felt like crowing in vindication. All of the effort had paid off, and he was mine. He felt every bit as good as I always hoped.

This couldn't last long. The power of the approaching climax was growing too quickly. I had to let it happen. Suddenly we were both thrusting against one another with lust and might. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him to me, squashing his chest hard against mine, painfully crushing my breasts to him. He squeezed my butt, pulling me powerfully against him, and I started to soar. I didn't fall into orgasm, though. Instead he drove me higher and higher, somehow not giving me the respite I needed for my body to make the change, fire leaping through me. I was gasping for breath, groaning with each movement, fingernails firmly embedded in Pete's shoulderblades when I finally hit sensory overload. I stopped moving, panting, on the edge of sanity. Pete didn't let up, and he drove me so hard into my climax that I think I screamed.

Pete came almost immediately, and the feel of his cock pulsing powerfully within me sent waves of pleasure through me. I started on the road to a second climax before he was through, and he took me up with perfect control to a joyous high.

I was out of energy. I thought I was, anyway, but Pete's constant attentions convinced me that I was wrong, and as I climbed again, he took my breast in his mouth, and stimulated me into a third magnificent cresting. When he released me I laid my head on his shoulder and we slowly rocked back to a relaxed euphoria. His chest was slick with sweat under my nipples. My face felt damp, and with my wet hair and oiled skin, I probably looked like a mermaid fresh from the ocean.


As Pete started to recover his senses he began to look nervous.

"What's the matter, lover of mine?"

"Oh, God, Chrissie," he said. "I didn't want... I didn't mean to... can you forgive me?"

I thought: Does the silly man think he had any choice in the matter?

I lifted myself on my arms, my boobs swaying over his chest. Even in his panic he couldn't keep from watching them.

"Peter," I said, "you just fulfilled my greatest fantasy. Very nicely, too. Don't spoil it by pretending that I wasn't capable of lusting after you."

Pete seems lost for words. I climb off him and lie alongside him.

"I've obsessed about you for years, Pete. I hope that you've finally seen me as more than Genie's kid sister, but if you haven't, well, I think I'll finally be able to slip between the sheets someone without wishing that they were your hands on my breasts, your body against mine..." I shivered slightly. "Not that I wouldn't love for you to join me for an intimate evening in my apartment once in a while, but I think I'll be able to get over my fixation. Thank you for that."

"Jeez, Chrissie, I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't know. You're not supposed to think about sex with your in-laws. Except I did. I do. And you still think I'm ten years old. Do I look ten to you now, Pete?"

"If there were any ten-year-olds like you, Chrissie, the world would be a far more dangerous place." He frowned slightly. "A more interesting one, perhaps."

I rolled over to face him. "So, am I a kid sister, or a woman?"

"You're definitely all woman, Chrissie, kid sister or not. Are you... will you... stay with me for a while?"

I couldn't help grinning. He was capable of rational choice, and he still wanted me. "That depends how long a while is, doesn't it, Pete? A month? Twenty years?"

That worried him. "Umm... I was thinking maybe the day, or the weekend. You're not thinking of asking me to leave Genie, are you?"

There was fear in his eyes. It looked out of place on someone normally as self-confident as Pete. He deserved it, trying to apologize to me. "No, lover. I told you already, if you want to come see me at college, you'll be very welcome. Other than that, yes, I'll stay with you this weekend, then it's over. I certainly want to stay long enough to join you in the spa this evening."

That reassured him. More than that, he sported a sly grin. "With or without swimsuit?"

"Both, I hope."

"I think I'll enjoy this weekend." I don't know if he was talking to me or to my boobs, certainly his eyes and hands had made their way there. "After this, I guess we'll see. I don't want to hurt Genie."

"You survived for a long time with Laura."

His eyes narrowed and he pulled back. "You have done your homework."

"Don't worry, Genie doesn't know, and she never will from me. She'll never learn about us from me, either. I can keep a secret."

"Apparently so." He relaxed a little.

"If it weren't for your affair with Laura, I wouldn't be here now." I considered briefly. "No, that's not true. I was determined to have you. But I would probably feel guilty about it. Damn, was I jealous of that woman."

"And not of Genie?"

"No. Well, maybe a little. She's my sister. She deserves someone as good as you. Laura didn't."

"Maybe you're right at that," he said. "It was a very difficult time. I can't promise that I'd go through anything like that again, even for you."

In two hours I had gone from Genie's kid sister to "even for you".

"You promise me tonight, lover man, and the rest of your life is yours. If you survive."

He reached for me. "If I don't, I'll die happy."


He held me to him, and our lips met and started moving. Desire stirred within me. He stretched his arm over my thigh and stroked my pussy. With his other hand he squeezed my breast, and I started to get hot and wet.

He was still limp. I could probably do something about that. I turned around and crouched on his chest, getting my head down between his thighs. I licked around his thighs, stroking his cock with my hand. No sign of life. I started licking it slowly. Judging by the sounds he made, that felt good to him, even if he wasn't responding physically. Yet.

He put a hand between my legs and stroked my pussy. As he got his fingers inside me I started squirming, tightening myself on his fingers and moving against them. That felt great, and I would have kept it up, except that he soon took his hand away.

He lifted my thighs and straightened my legs, so I was lying against him. Then he pulled me back, getting my pussy into his face. He played around the outside with his tongue, then started tickling and brushing me with his tongue and nose. That seemed to turn him on almost as much as it did me, because he slowly started swelling and stiffening. He had a long way to go, and he was already drawing fire into me.

He stroked my clit with his tongue. I gasped, and sucked at him harder. Oh, Pete, do you know what you were doing to me? Do you do Genie the same? I didn't think married people knew how to give each other so much passion.

He was certainly starting to respond, but he wasn't letting me wait for him. As I rocked against his face he flicked his tongue against my clit. I had to take my mouth off him to breathe for a moment. I went back to work immediately, but I was panting while I slid my lips up and down him. He was completely hard by this time.

When Pete sucked on my clit, my body responded hungrily. I pushed against his mouth and came, savoring every moment of the experience. We each kept up the pace, and Pete brought me off into a series of orgasms, less intense, but no less erotic, as each high left me feeling more fulfilled.

I could tell he was ready to come when his movements became less smooth and regular. I slowed down, teasing his cock with the tip of my tongue. I waited until I was on the point of another gentle crest to get him back into my mouth and suck hard and fast. As he twitched and came, I kept my mouth over him, letting the fluid trickle from my lips over him, sighing as I relaxed into my own release.

We let each other down gently, and I slid off him, slumping onto the bed, not even turning around. Pete reoriented himself to face me, and stroked my cheek.


I think I slept for a while. Certainly I faded out. When I started to recover I was hungry. I shook Pete awake and asked him if we were going to have anything "more substantial" to eat, and while he pondered that I padded through to the utility room and put my bikini in the drier for a few minutes.

When it was barely dry, I slipped it on and tied my shirt over it. I squeezed myself into my shorts and borrowed some of Genie's makeup. When Pete was finally alert and dressed we went out for lunch.

I took him to play miniature golf. "Now that I've convinced you I'm a big girl, perhaps we can play some little kid games." Though Pete spent paid far more attention to my shorts than his game.

Not that I was complaining.

We went to a movie, and snuggled together in the back. We had a light dinner before returning to his house.


We arrived back at his place in the early evening. Pete started the spa, though it would be a while before we'd use it. He was expecting a call from Genie, and took it while I poured us drinks.

When he was off the phone, we took our drinks outside and relaxed in the pool. We played around much as we had in the morning, but with no pretense that our games were anything other than sexual teasing.

When the sun began to set, we refilled our drinks and sat in the spa. We spent some time just relaxing as the sky slowly darkened.

Eventually I asked Pete to help me out of my swimsuit. He unfastened my top and slipped it off, but didn't get much further, as his hands found the treasures underneath. I removed my own bikini bottoms, then pulled off his trunks. We half-crouched, half-floated in the warm water, holding one another.

Pete set me down in a corner of the spa. He hooked his arms under my legs and pulled me to the water's surface. I held on to the spa walls as he lifted me to his face.

My arms were straining slightly, but still, when he slipped his tongue into me, the feeling of floating disconnected me from anything but the sensations suffusing through my body. Nothing existed for me but the gentle waves of pleasure. Even when he focused on my clit, the throb of passion was surrounded by peace, and when I came, it was in a euphoric rush.


I pulled away from him, and wrapped my legs around his waist, guiding his hard erection into me. I put my arms over his shoulders and squeezed him into me with my legs behind him. My breasts were at the surface of the water, and he kept spluttering as he tried to take them into his mouth. We rocked together, gently. After a few minutes, I pulled him hard against me as I shuddered and came.

I floated, letting him support me, as he started moving faster, He rested my back against the side of the spa, and drove into me powerfully. I came again, relaxed, eyes closed, not moving. I don't think he would have even noticed. My contractions were gentle against the driving motion of his cock. Eventually he gasped, paused, then thrust against me hard. I felt his cock moving within me. As I tightened up around it, I coaxed myself into another peaceful orgasm. Then I hugged him tight to me.

We didn't bother to dress before returning inside, just toweling off and taking our swimming gear with us. When we collapsed in bed, we kissed for a long time before drifting off to sleep, naked, arms and legs intertwined.


We barely ventured out of bed the following day, exploring each other intimately. When I had to leave for college, I tried to keep Pete from seeing me cry, but it didn't work. I told him not to worry about me, I was determined to be the adult I claimed, and he had given me the best weekend of my life.

I wasn't really sure how effective the "cure" would be. I determined to find out, and have since made very fulfilling love with... well, with more than one partner. I'm now dating a wonderful guy who's far more sensuous than his studious manner implies. With him, I've come very close to reaching the heights Pete took me to. With practice, I know we'll pass them.

And we practice every chance we can get.

Except on those weekends when Pete comes to call, and I lock the world on the other side of my bedroom door.