| Bo and Me, Part 2 After a week or so, it turned out that I could barely smell Bo's pee on the thong anymore, which surprised and disappointed me a little. Of course I still kept the thong. I wore it to class only once. It distracted me too much. I couldn't concentrate at all and couldn't wait to get home to masturbate. I wore it at home sometimes, where wearing it in the supposedly safe environment of my family turned me on to no end. I wondered if mom and dad would still hug me lovingly and stroke my hair, comfortable in the knowledge that I was a good girl if they knew that in that moment, I was wearing a children's thong because their other daughter Bo had previously peed in it. Of course all that was just the beginning. It became another sinful habit for me. Almost every day, I'd sneak into Bo's room to check if there were new worn panties for me to smell there. When there were, I'd either just stand there for what felt like hours, closing my eyes, holding the crotch to my nose and inhale, trembling, or take it to my room, wrap it around my head, lie down on my bed and masturbate. Sometimes her panties seemed to have been barely worn, sometimes there was a faint smell that was enough to trigger my lust, and every once in a blue moon the panties were literally still damp, maybe from a long car drive where she was too modest to ask for a restroom stop. Those rare occasions showed me nirvana. Never would I have thought that I'd ever not only not mind the smell of urine, but actually adore it and seek it from my little sister's panties to get me into sexual heaven. I thought of leaving my pants on while relieving myself on the toilet to find out if it smelled the same, but I felt silly at the thought. I was 14, not a little girl, I was supposed to be able to control my bladder. What would mom think if she found my drenched panties in the laundry basket? So I didn't go all out, but sometimes I held it for a little longer than necessary, read a funny comic or played tickle games with Bo and just let happen what the giggling fits brought with themselves, excusing myself to bathroom after to properly relieve myself. I did like the smell of my own trickled panties as well, but it was definitely different than Bo's and it didn't hold the same magic. Maybe (definitely), knowing who had peed the panties was part of the turn-on. I only resorted to myself when the chair in Bo's room held a longer dry spell for me. -- Bo and I had a tradition that had started to drop off to sleep about a year or a little longer ago, and that was staying overnight in the other's room. We still did it sometimes, but less than we used to. We'd get our mattress to the other's room and, after going to bed, stay up for an hour or two, making up stories for each other (campfire stuff, like horror or ghost stories) or just talk about whatever went through our minds till we dozed off to sleep. Around the time I turned 13, Bo and I's worlds were pretty different. I was going through the onset of puberty and sexual feelings while she was still 10, and we weren't as interested in each other's lives anymore, spending more time with our friends our own age than with each other, while before it had been pretty even. I don't mean to say that we grew distant, really; it wasn't so much growing bored of each other as it was exploring other people and being content without spending several days a week with each other. At least it was like that for me, but I don't think she would have thought of it much differently. As best I can recall, I first started ogling Hanna in September 2004. The incident with Sara that confirmed my sexuality to me was sometime later that year, maybe in November. In January 2005, I turned 14, and in February, Bo turned 11. I found her thong around March. After spring had already teased everyone for a week or two in April, we got another cold spell and even some more snow around the end of the month. We turned up the heaters and got ourselves snuggly and comfy. It was then that Bo suggested that we hadn't done an overnighter in quite some time, and I agreed that we should do one, looking forward to silly giggling and catching up with each other. We lifted her mattress and bed sheets into my room next to my bed, got into our pyjamas, brushed our teeth and were eager to go to bed even though it was a weekend and only about 9pm, much to the surprise of mom and dad. I can't recall what we talked about, but we had a nice time, talking for an hour or two. We were slowly getting tired and the breaks in our conversation got a little longer when Bo asked: "Hey, can I crawl in with you and snuggle up? It feels like that would be great right now. You know, with the icky weather outside and everything. Plus, Max wasn't really in the mood for cuddling today, so I've been missing out. Cats, you know…" I laughed, saying "sure, crawl on in", and I could hear her bed sheets moving in the dark. I made some room, shuffling toward the wall, and held up the blanket for her to slip beneath. I felt her climb in, tucked her in and immediately she snuggled up, laying on her side facing me and pressing herself to me. I laughed at the sudden resolute display of affection. I put my arm under her neck and held her, lying on my back. She made strategical use of her position, planting a peck on my cheek, making me laugh again. I was also starting to grow really warm somewhere in my chest. It had been a long time since we'd been that affectionate with each other. I was feeling very sisterly. Bo started stroking my hair, and I could see her smiling contently even in the dark because she was so close. I responded by stroking her back with the arm I'd wrapped around her. For whatever reason, the closeness seemed to make it necessary to hold further conversations in a near whisper. "I'm really happy that you're my sister, Lisa," Bo said. "I'm really happy you're my sister, too," I said. For a while we were just lying there stroking each other, and that seemed to be the end of that night's conversations. We didn't fall asleep for some time, however, and every once in a while, one of us would shuffle, Bo always staying on her side and attaching herself to me like glue. She kept giving me pecks on the cheek. At some point I became aware that beside just being content from all the sisterly affection and being comfortable in a warm bed on a cold night, it felt really nice to have my hands full of girl. A girl pressing herself to me, sticking as close as possible throughout every movement, stroking my hair and kissing my cheek. Fuck. Fuck! Come on, Lisa, it's bad enough you're a lesbian, it's bad enough that you masturbate, it's bad enough that you sniff your sister's panties, now you're thinking of Bo that way? Are you that desperate? And she's only 11, too… Some other organ told my brain to shut up for a while and I successfully focused on enjoying all the feelings that were adding up. I could smell Bo's hair. It smelled like shampoo and girl. I focused on all the areas and spots (a lot) that were touching through our pyjamas. I looked into Bo's happy face. I started stroking her back a little stronger. When she gave me yet another peck on the cheek, I laughed and said: "If I kiss you back, are you going to stop that? I wanna sleep." "Yes." I didn't even know why I said it. Maybe it was a defensive reaction because I felt uncomfortable that my sister was kissing me, if only on the cheek. As beautiful as it was, it seemed that it was wrong as long as I was thinking of her the way I was thinking of her right now. Or maybe I wanted to give myself an excuse to kiss her back. Probably both. I turned on my side to face her. Every inch of mine that shuffled away from her, she instantly started trying to fill up again. That made turning to my side somewhat difficult, and we were both giggling at how determined she was to stay glued. "God's sake!," I whisper-yelled. She just giggled back, not subduing her efforts in the least. By the time I was on my side, she wrapped her other arm around me, pressing herself into me, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, and she even put one of her feet over mine. I kissed her on the cheek. Once more, we just held each other, with an unspoken challenge of who was first going to make a move to go back to a sleeping position. After some five minutes, it became clear to me that it wasn't going to be her, so I shifted around in order to lie on my back. Again, she tried to stay stuck, and by the time I was done, she was half lying on top of me, one arm across my chest, her leg crossing my legs, her head resting on my shoulder. I was way too uncomfortable, or, more accurately put, way too comfortable. I laughed again and said: "Bo, I can't sleep like that, please get off of me." She let out a mock sigh, but did roll around. She said: "Can I still use your arm as a cushion? It feels really nice, lying there with you holding me." I actually found it comfortable myself, so I agreed. To my surprise and thankfulness, I fell asleep rather quickly. When I woke up with her still in my arm, I was determined that this was not going to be the last overnighter that year. Or that month. Or that weekend. |