This was supposed to be a setup for something a lot less vanilla than it is. It still is, but it was originally meant to be too. First chapter is your garden variety yuri incest, but wacky hijinks will ensue after the foreshadowed time skip. This was meant to be a short intro, but Emily and Liz insisted on having some time in the sun before getting to the plot.

---

I seduced my sister when I was 14. She thinks she seduced me, but she's not the brightest bulb in the drawer. And anyway, I like it this way. Guilt is the best way to keep someone close, and to make sure they keep a secret. Now, when I crawl into her bed at 3 AM, even though I can feel in the hunch of her shoulders and the fuzz in her voice that she doesn't want to be awake, she'll eat me out anyway. Dumb bitch. Love her, though.

---

It was two summers ago when I cracked her. She's a year older than I am, and although she'd had her (unfairly large) tits for a couple years, she was just starting to take a *serious* interest in other kids. Like the boy cleaning the pool under Mother's watchful (and appreciative, I'm pretty sure, though I never caught them doing anything) eye. I'd been working on her since the end of school, touching her more, wearing less, complimenting her chest and her long, brown hair. I'd found her diary when she left it out, distracted by finals, and I knew she thought I was pretty. What she actually wrote was, "God, Liz is so hot." She wrote that about a lot of people, to be fair, but I was determined to make her do something about it. So I was playing the insecure little sister that summer, getting her to compliment me back. She liked my flat tummy, the short, jagged haircut I was trying out, the sundresses and tank tops I wearing more and more around her as she "helped me feel more confident." And I hadn't been letting her masturbate.

I was terrified she'd figure out what was going on, but... well, like I said. Not the smartest. So when I'd knock on her door about ten minutes after I started hearing the rustle of sheets and muffled moans from across our shared wall, I don't think she ever really realized what was up. It made her nervous, though, and downright terrified of being vocal. When I interrupted her for a goodnight hug, I could feel her heart racing while I pushed my small boobs into her ribs.

"Goodnight Emmy," I'd whisper up at her, letting her get a long sniff of my hair while she held me in her arms, barely suppressing the urge to rub her hard nipples into my clavicle. "Love you."

And I'd feel the shiver run down her back, and smile beatifically like a tiny little sister should.

As far as I could tell, it made her too nervy to finish on those nights, and while I didn't interrupt her like that *every* time - she's dumb, but not *that* dumb - I did make sure to walk through the hall, or sing a song pitched just right so she'd hear. Something to make her nervous and quiet, because I thought - and as I'm now very sure - she'd barely be able to take the edge off unless she could make some noise. That's the way I am.

---

Anyway, on that fateful June afternoon, my sister was holding a glass of lemonade and staring out the window. The water beading on the glass was dripping onto her fingers. I'd done my "goodnight" routine yesterday, and I was sure she was horny for the kid out there. That wouldn't do. I flopped down on top of her, and distracted as she was, the lemonade went flying all over her top. And my face, but you have to make sacrifices in life.

"Liz what the fuck!?" she demanded, snapping her head around to check that Mother hadn't heard.

I cowered in her lap, grinding my ass against her crotch just a little, and gave her the puppy dog eyes.

"Sorry Emmy, I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry. I just wanted to sit with you. Sorry."

The tendons in her neck relaxed, just a fraction. Like I said, she's a dumb bitch, but she loves me too. She patted me on the head, and I nuzzled into her hand.

"Ugh, it's fine. I guess I was distracted. You really need to be careful, mom would have had a fit if you got this on the couch."

"I know. I'm sorry. You should shower," I said, pulling up my tank top to dab at my face looking disgusted. The lemonade was already leaving sticky trails all over my face. That part I didn't have to act up at all. I caught her sneaking a glance at my navel as I did, and I knew I had her attention back on me.

"No, come on, it's all over your hair. You go first."

"But it's my fault," I whined, looking up at her with the guiltiest face I could muster.

"Fine, then I'll go with you," she said, pushing me up and standing. I thought I saw a flash of shock at her own words rip through her, but it was gone in an instant. She stood up, spun around, and started heading for the shower upstairs.

"Come on, you," she said, not turning around to face me. "Get a move on."

I nearly panicked. I'm not ashamed to admit that. I had been working on her, but I figured I'd need to push a little harder, a little further. I was getting her hot and bothered and noticing me, sure, but I had been trying to work out how to turn that into real intimacy. Seemed like my sister might have worked it out on her own. What I did know was that I absolutely could not, under any circumstances, let this opportunity go to waste. So I hurried after.

---

Emily had already stripped off her top by the time I caught up and was down to a red cami and her shorts. She turned on the tap, staring directly into the bathtub, and I stood there for a few seconds, not speaking or moving. Eventually, she took back her hand and said, "water's ready, get in there Liz."

She turned to the wall and started undressing while I fumbled my tank top off and dropped my shorts. As I peeled off my panties, I could feel myself blushing, and I stepped into the bath without even looking at her. I closed my eyes and let the spray wash the dried sugar trails off my face, and stood there facing into the spray for what must have been a good thirty seconds before I became aware that she'd come in with me. I squeaked, I think, and turned around.

"Oh, hey Emmy. Sorry, you get some of the water, I'm mostly good now." *Oh god,* I thought to myself, *don't look at her tits.*

She clicked her tongue, put her hands on my shoulder and hip, and spun me around.

"Nuh uh, Liz. We're going to wash your hair out first."

She stepped up to me and I could feel her boobs pushing into my back. She took her hands off my body - I nearly whined out loud - and, from the sound, grabbed my shampoo bottle from the shelf on our right. She gently pushed my head under the spray and cracked the bottle. Then she pulled me back and sunk her fingers into my hair. She started by just slathering the shampoo on, but within a couple of seconds she started really working it in. It felt nice, the water was warm, and I felt hot, and before I realized I was about to, I let out a soft, breathy little gasp. Emily, I think, took this as a good sign, because what she was doing transitioned suddenly from "thorough shampooing" into "intimate scalp massage." She leaned down and whispered into my sudsy ear, "You know, Lizzie, you have such nice hair."

I murmured something indistinct back at her and pushed my body back into hers. She giggled in the way only Emily can giggle - I swear, the girl is "ingenue" personified - and asked, "what did you say?"

"You're so nice to me, Emily," I said, arching my neck to push my head into her hands. "And that feels so good, and you're so pretty."

I shut up, trying desperately to maintain my composure, not even realizing that her hands had stopped moving in my hair.

"Do you really think so?" she asked, in a light tone but with a slight tremor in her voice.

*In for a penny, in for a pound,* I told myself, and nodded.

"Yeah. You're beautiful." I foundered for something to follow that up with. This hadn't been in the plan. "I bet you could get that pool boy to kiss you if you wanted."

"Who?" she asked, sounding genuinely puzzled. "The... oh. Uh, I guess." Her hands started moving again, a little lighter, and I was terrified I'd blown it.

"Wait," I said, "weren't you staring at him when I bumped you?"

She giggled again, and I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to feel her giggle like that into my mouth.

"Oh, then? No, I was just thinking."

"About what?" I asked.

She held her breath for a few seconds, and I thought I should say something to break the silence, but then, so quietly I could barely hear it, she said "About you."

The words, "What about me?" left my mouth before I could think, and I was halfway to mentally kicking myself when she said -

"About how beautiful you are, actually, Liz. I bet you could get me to kiss you. If you wanted."

I turned around, still blind, and hugged her close. I could feel her heart racing as I buried my face in her shoulder and gave the tiniest of nods. She wrapped her arm around me and pushed me gently into the water. Then she tilted my head back, let the soap run off my face, put her finger under my chin, and kissed me.

I moaned into her mouth and arched my chest up against hers. And then she did giggle into me, and I thought my heart was going to fly out of my chest. We stayed like that for what must have been more than a minute, pressed up against each other, and only separated when a little trail of shampoo started making its way down my face.

"Let's finish washing up," she said, panting, "and then let's go to my room."

---

Emily is what they call a "service top," I think. Domme-y, but always trying to get you off. Thinking about your pleasure. She thinks I'm some kind of sub, but the truth is, I'm just greedy, and she's so fucking good at making me cum that I've never needed to boss her around. I'm pretty sure we're wired the same, at least physically, which is good because I don't know that I'd have the patience to learn how to pleasure her like I know she'd do for me. To be completely honest, she deserves that, and if I were any worse at getting *her* off than I am, I might feel a little bad about it.

Luckily, we're practically made for each other, which is something I think we both realized about three minutes into our naked makeout on her bed.

I was sitting in her lap with my legs wrapped around her waist, head back, eyes closed. She was pinching my nipples gently between her index and middle fingers, and when she started lapping gently at the hollow of my neck, like a cat might, I nearly saw stars. I grabbed her by the earlobes to pull her off and kiss her so I could muffle my moans with her mouth, and as soon as I grabbed her I felt a full-body shiver run through her. I started rubbing her ears like I usually do when I masturbate, and then it was her turn to moan into me. She grabbed me in just the same way, tipped me backwards onto the bed, and put her knee between my thighs. My cunt was soaked, and I could feel her smile through our kiss when she felt it. I rubbed my tongue along her canines and my pussy against her leg, begging her for some friction. She bit down gently on my tongue and obliged.

And then we fucked like rabbits, pretty much. She got me off humping her like that, then she trailed kisses down my stomach and held my body down while she teased me with her mouth. She played with my labia, penetrated me with the tip of her tongue, blew gently on my clit. I felt like I was going to go insane, but she tightened her grip on my hips and kept her lips and nose firmly out of reach of my aching clit. I grabbed her by the hair, but I didn't have the leverage or the strength to keep her down, and instead she popped her head up to look up my body at me.

"Do you love me, Liz?" she asked, and I thought I saw a little tear in her eye.

"Love you so much. Love you love you love you. Please." I couldn't stop myself from whining. Didn't want to either. I thought I'd need time - at least a year, maybe, for her to do this, and instead it was happening *now* and oh God I wanted it.

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Yesssssss," I hissed, and she grinned, flipped me over, and pushed my face into her pillow with her left hand. I barely had time to register that it smelled like her, because a couple seconds later she sunk two fingers into my drenched pussy and finally started to really fuck me.

It felt like I was drowning in Emily. She circled my clit with her thumb while she pumped her fingers and pressed me down into the pillow, driving a slow, deep, steady pace while I whined. I couldn't see, could barely hear, and all I could feel was her weight on the back of my head and her fingers in her cunt. I went off nearly instantly, and I swear it was the best orgasm of my life. But my dear, sweet sister just kept going, even while my cunt was clenching hard around her. I think I started to sob, something about how much I loved her and how good it felt, and she just kept going.

When I came the second time, I screamed into her pillow and went completely limp. She instantly let go and dropped on her stomach next to me, and in the silence I could her her quiet panting. I rolled over and reached out to grab her by the hand, eyes shut, letting the cool air from the AC dry the sweat that covered my body.

"Lizzie," she asked after a while, and I cracked my eyes open to see a worried look on her face. "Did I pressure you or something? Was this ok?"

She'd just gotten me off three times while sobbing her name into a pillow. If I was her, I don't think I'd have been asking. But I figured I could use this, so I scooted over and put my head on her chest.

"I mean, you made me feel good. And I love you, Emmy."

It wasn't quite the answer she wanted, I knew, but I figured it was the best answer for me to give. Still, I didn't want to push too hard, so I looked up at her with my best little sister expression and asked, "Can I make you feel good too?"

The internal conflict that had been building on her face disappeared mostly, but not completely, and I cheered in my head to see it. She parted her legs, so I snaked my hand up between them and put my head down to her nipple. My finger pushed in, I started to suck gently, and she hummed quietly. We were both tired, so we just laid like that for five or six minutes, my hand pulsing in her crotch, switching boobs and sneaking a kiss in between every so often. She came with a wiggle and a series of gasps trailing off into another one of those damned giggles. I thought it was the cutest thing I'd ever seen. I laid my head down on her chest and closed my eyes, and before I knew it I'd drifted off to sleep.

---

I ignored her for the next day and a half. It killed me, especially because I knew it was bothering her, but I kept telling myself that the plan would work. Still, when I knocked on her door in the middle of the night two days later and saw her eyes brimming with tears, I almost told her her how sorry I was. Instead, I managed to choke out, "Emmy, make me feel good again?"

When I felt her sag with relief in my arms, that was probably the closest I've come to hating myself. I like being the way I am, most of the time, but sometimes... sometimes I don't. Still, it kept us close, forestalled any wedges. She felt like I needed her and I was sure I had convinced her that she needed me.

---

And for the last two years, we've been fucking. Mother is oblivious, I'm pretty sure - she says I get my brains from Dad and I usually grumble that I probably got my tits from him too - and she's happy that we're spending more time together. Emily's grades are getting better too, although she's decided she probably won't be going to college, which will make it easier for us to stay together. This year, Mother's gotten it in her head that we should head off to summer camp again - we haven't gone since I was 12, but a) I'm pretty sure she's got a boyfriend and b) it's a cool-sounding camp for older teens that bills itself as some kind of retreat or something, "to prepare teens for independent living." It'll be a full month living away from home, and I'm excited to finally get a chance to be girlfriends with Emily in public. There's not much in the way of supervision, which means we'll just be two girls who love each other to everyone else, as long as we're the least bit careful. I like what we have, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't chafe at always having to hide. I'm good at it, not happy about it, and I can't wait.