First, let me tell you a little something about my sister. She is a lovely girl, 16, bright and beautiful. And do you know how much she adores me? She does. I suspect all younger siblings at some time blindly admire their older counter parts no matter who they are, even if, in fact, they cause them harm in some way or the other, it is all justified to them, somehow. This was the case with my older brother, whom I have grown to hate, quite rightly, because he is stupid, rude, and sometimes the butt of jokes to those people he calls "friends." Back to my sister; she is one of great potential, and I recognized my duty as her older brother to help mold her. I won't make the same mistake my brother did with me! I try to inspire her, enlighten her, open her mind so that she may reach her highest potential, whatever it is that a woman could hope to be. It started with my reading suggestions. I was put in the position of someone who could recommend books for her to read, and in return she would respect my opinion of certain subjects, by my ability to comprehend and elaborate on her english assignments. I got her to read Camus's "The Stranger" one time. The conversation afterwards went like this:
"I don't get the ending," she said.
"What don't you get about it?"
"Is he happy or what? I think he's happy, but I don't see why."
"He isn't really happy, after all, he is condemned. He has just understood his place in the universe and the universes' relation to him, chiefly, indifference. All he has to do is be indifferent to it and the world, just as he is to society's laws and morals, and then finally, apply that to death. He has some sort of peace, but I think he would somehow rather live, if only out of habit."
She paused for a moment, reflecting, or trying to reflect, so as to impress her older brother.
"I think I got it," she finally let out.
"Come to me with any other questions," I said.
So you see what kind of a mentor I am to her. She comes to my room everday after school and talks with me. She loves every minute of it. But it is also double sided, because if anyone has spent enough time with a girl you know how boring their stories become. It seems to be in their nature to bother you with every trivial and meaningless detail in their lives, somehow, I think, it makes them seem closer to you, to know all their bullshit. Keep that in mind, young men of the world!
Having sufficiently boosted her self esteem and whatnot, she eventually made friends in highschool. She was quiet and shy like I was in my youth, and so that always troubled me about her, and so I was quite pleased that she had made friends. I came to learn that one of her friends, Casey, had a crush on me. I don't know how that happened, since I have never met the girl, or if so merely in passing. Apparantly this bothered my sister a lot, and Casey, being aware of this, wrote on my sisters notebook that I was cute, hot, etc. My sister showed me the notebook. I also think there is something appealing about older men to little girls, older brothers, just as older siblings are somehow more powerful and knowledgeable, older boys are omnipotent and exciting. They know how to have fun, they know about life, after all, at least from the little girls' perspective. I knew this when I was sitting at my computer chair and heard the doorbell ring last Friday night. It was Casey! The night had begun!
I was imagining them, from behind my door, greeting each other, their bright teenage smiles and barely controllable excitement. They would hold each others hands as if to try to contain each other as they looked into each others eyes and burst into laughter and giggles. Such movement and electricity surrounded them at every moment. There were many instances when, after the other 2 girls arrived, making that 4 in all, that it seems like a grenade exploded in the other room, except instead of hearing destruction you heard shrieking yells and fits of laughter from all around you, which would be equally as disturbing and unsettling as a grenade.
At one point in the night I heard my sisters door open. She is right across the hall. I ran quickly to my door and pressed my ear to it. I heard whispers. From what I gathered, one girl, Casey, was showing another, Lauren, where the bathroom was, but they also were discussing which room I was in, and daring each other to go in and see me. This filled me with a powerful excitement. Eventually, though, they were too timid, or picked the wrong room, and eventually returned to my sisters room.
All that evening an idea was spreading inside me. At first it started as a seed, a joke and passing thought that I even laughed at. But it grew. It sprung roots and branches and as each minute passed become more and more a possibility, and strangely it seems, an inevitability. I was heading towards it and it was pulling me in whether I had a say in it or not! It was only two doors, gentlemen, two doors that seperated me from those lovely girls. My imagination was running wild with ideas of what they could be doing, what they looked like, and indeed what they were thinking! I could not take it any more. But I had to have an excuse, a reason, a justification, or otherwise everything would fall to pieces!
"And who cares what other people think, so what if they are sixteen?" I thought to myself. "Am I not like The Stranger myself? Aren't we free to invent our own rules? What does it all matter? Where do these laws come from? Are they holy? There is no holiness! That is a lie, and only for children to believe. Children need morals. I can step over them, all those who judge, in one giant leap I can crush what they think! Heh, heh!"
"Hello, sister!" I said as I pushed the door open with one hand, carrying a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other.
"What are you doing here?" she said, startled, and pulled a blanket over her legs and closer to her face.
"Oh, I'm just saying hello. Can I come in? Well, hello everyone! Let me close the door. Ok there. Well, how are you?" I introduced myself and everyone introduced themselves to me. I have to admit, at first they were startled, but I spoke in a tone of sincerity and frankness that was disarming and at times even enchanting, otherwise, if I detected, even in the slightest, a shred of sentiment that I was not accepted among them, I would have left immediately! That I promise you. That is the truth.
There was Casey, as I mentioned, but now I was free to look at and admire her features. She was a blonde girl of sixteen. She would be the first to turn seventeen among the group. She wore a beaded necklace, had a crooked smile, and was pale and skinny. Lauren was brunette and had a curved, though small, nose. She was just as pale as Casey, but looked fuller, and her brown eyes were rich and deep. And lastly there was Becca. Becca's brown hair was long and fell to the middle of her back. She kept the front bangs short above her eyebrows and let the rest grow back behind her. She had a slight complexion problem but it could easily be ignored because she covered it with makeup. I don't know how you all feel about women's faces, but to my mind those sixteen years, those still childish eyes, that timidity, those bashful tears- to my mind they're better than beauty, and on top of that they were just like a picture. Little eyes, little hands and arms, little feet- lovely! ... So we got acquainted. I hid my bottle from view and also from thought for the time being until I gained their absolute and complete trust.
"So Casey, that's with a C right?" I asked.
"Cool! I once knew a Kacie with a K and IE."
"Cool! Me too! Whenever I meet another Casey I have to ask how their name is spelled!"
"That's so funny!"
And thus, and thus. Finally I introduced the bottle.
"So, have you girls ever drank before?"
"Nope," Casey said. The others replied the same.
"One time," my sister said, bashfully, but with a hint of pride.
"Oh wow, really!" Becca said.
"When was it??" Lauren said.
"It was during Mardi Gras. He let me," my sister said, pointing to me.
"Haha, I remember that, that was funny. So do you girls want to try some? It's really fun," I said.
"Sounds cool!" Casey said.
Luckily they already had coke in the room to mix it with. First I gave them weak drinks, and hoped no one would get an upset stomach. But would you have guessed how quickly they drank! They were so excited about the prospect of being cool and drinking, and hanging out with an older boy. I'm 22, by the way. In just an hour all the bottle was gone. I barely had 2 drinks. I sipped quietly and slowly so they would get more than their share of it. Finally my moment was coming into play, as if it were appearing before me and suddenly tangible. I could feel it's weight bearing down on me, more and more, every minute, until it almost broke me.
"Has anyone done a three-way kiss before?" I asked. No one answered. They looked at me and then each other, and then back at me. "It's simple, it's just like regular kissing except with three people. Who wants to try?" Everyone volunteered. I told my sister no... next turn. I got Casey, Lauren, and Becca standing on their knees and told them to go at it. They were giggling but determined. Finally the laughter stopped and then all I could see were flickering tongues, wetness, and a warm sensation that was crawling through all of the little girls' chest and up their necks to their little cheeks. It was their sexuality, blossoming. I wiggled my dick between their lips and tongues. Their eyes didn't open at first, but surely they noticed this new alien object couldn't have been anyone else's face. And after all, it probably smelled pretty bad and was suspect. They opened their eyes, stared for a moment, and started screaming. "What's the matter with you??" I screamed back. I quickly put it back in and zipped up. They were in hysterics and hyperventilating. I tried to calm them down as quickly as possible.
"No wait! Wait! Look uh.. have you heard of a keg before? At college parties they have kegs," I said, in a broken voice.
"Yeah... I think I have... " Casey said.
"Well, girls, that was a keg. You all just did a keg stand."
"I thought kegs had beer."
"No that was a keg, trust me," I said, backing away, grabbing the empty bottle of Jack Daniels. They were bewildered. I prayed that they would be too drunk to really remember what happened, or too ashamed. "Don't tell anyone you saw a keg tonight," I told them as I shut the door.
I went into my room and fell with my back against the door and slid down in agony. I had done what every man had dreamed of, yet why were all these troublesome and burdonsome feelings coming over me now? I was not completely justified, even in my mind. I could not convince myself fully! Why was I so weak? Was it true what Camus said, or was that just optimistic? I was programmed, just like all the others, just a simpleton! But at least I had made it with three hot chicks.