Don't Mess With Your Sister's Friends

Story Submitted by Miranda:

Sara's been a friend of mine since grade school.  She has a younger brother, Steve, who was, growing up, as annoying as younger brothers can be.  As time went on and I went off to college, though, Steve, who was two years younger than Sara and I, started talking to me, writing me emails, and calling to say hi.  He had seemingly outgrown his awkward years and had apparently become a polite, good-looking guy.

He asked me if I wanted to go out with him when we were both home for spring break, and I thought it would be fun.  Even Sara was keen on the idea.  She said, "Oh my God!  If you marry him, we'd be related!"  Shut up, Sara.

At dinner, however, Steve showed that he hadn't changed very much from childhood.  He asked, "Have you had lots of lesbian experiences in college?"

"No, Steve."

"Describe a lesbian experience to me, like one you've had in college."

"I haven't had one, Steve."

"How many lesbian experiences have you had?"

"None, Steve."

Oh, Steve.  He was a goofball.  A goofball who would not shut up about lesbians and college.  Finally, I had it with him and his questions.  I told him, "Fine.  There is one girl who I go to school with who's a lesbian.  I know she has the hots for me, and I know she lives in Prescott."  Prescott was a town about 30-40 miles away.

He leaned forward, over the table, and licked his lips.  "Really?"

"Yeah.  I guess I could call her and see if she'd be interested in coming over and hanging out."

"Really?"

I excused myself from the table, made a phone call, and we arranged everything.  I returned to the table and told him, "Let's finish up here.  She's coming to meet us at your house, and will be at your back porch in an hour."

"All right!"

Steve and I left the restaurant and waited on his back porch.  He tried to put the moves on me while we waited, but I brushed him off.  "Wait until my lesbian friend gets here, horndog."

He nodded.  Was he ever ready.

We talked about this and that until after a little while, when from around the front of the house came my friend, covered in a white sheet from head to toe, with a single hole from which to see. 

"Hey," I welcomed her, hugged her, and led her up to the porch.  I said to her, "So, Steve here wants to see us having some fun.  You up for it?"

She nodded without a word.  I climbed under the sheet with her, and made the sounds that you'd expect to hear from a steamy make-out session.  From what I could see through the shifting hole in the sheet, Steve couldn't keep his eyes off of us.

After a minute, I said, "So much for foreplay.  You ready to see us going at it for real, Steve?"

With a quiver in his voice, he said, "Y-yeah.  Yeah."

I ripped the sheet off to reveal myself in an embrace with my secret "lover": Sara.

He stared at us for age-long, and you could almost hear him thinking, "Is this hot?  Is this gross?  Should I stay?  Should I go?  Uh..."

Sara was pitch-perfect and stayed there, smiling at him, with me, and in silence.  Finally, he stood up, went inside through the back door, and closed it behind him.  Sara and I went out for drinks, had a great time, and didn't make love at all.