Welcome home, big brother.


  It’s been five years since I last saw him, but his image was fresh in my mind. My brother was just barely six feet tall. His light bluish gray eyes were deep and full of life. He had a small, feminine body, with smooth soft skin. His dark black hair went almost to his shoulder. That’s how I always thought of him when his name was brought up.   When my brother was 18 he got in a fight with our dad which resulted in him running away and becoming a vagabond. I was only 15 at the time and cried almost non stop for the first week of his absence. He gave me his favorite hat and told me to give it back when he returned.   After a year we got a letter from the USMC congratulating us on Zachary joining the Marine Corps. News about him came in small pieces from time to time, each time Dad would get upset. The last piece of news came in the form of discharge papers, but this time Dad wouldn’t let me see. He just sat in his chair and cried tears of regret. Six months later he suffered a heart attack, the grief that had built up over the years finally caught up to him. Before he passed away he gave me Zach’s phone number, and told me to tell him he was sorry.  I called Zach on the phone to inform him that Dad had passed away. The phone rang for what seemed like hours. Finally it stopped and I heard the familiar voice say, “Hello?”  “Zach. . . This is your sister, Jesse. It’s been a long time” The words came out soft and shaky. There was a long pause followed by, “Jesse? It’s been a long time. Whats going on? How are you? How did you find my number?” His voice was still filled with child like enthusiasm.  “Dad gave me your number before, well, you should sit down. Dad passed away. He had a heart attack and never recovered. He wanted istanbul travesti me to track you down and tell you he was sorry.” “That’s unfortunate. When’s the funeral,” he asked, trying to sound unemotional.  “It’s next Sunday. Dad would have wanted you to come Zach. Please, do it for me! You can stay with me until the funeral and we could catch up. Its been five years since you left, it would give us time to catch up.” “I’ll do it for you. Meet me at the cafe around the corner from the house in three hours. We can catch up.” After 5 years of being away from him I had grown to be a developed, 20 year old woman. I dressed into a sun dress that hugged my smooth upper body and long toned legs. I dug through the closet to find a pair of sandals when it occurred to me, I had to return his hat to him! I searched throughout the house and found it, his straw panama hat that he loved so much. I had worn it almost everyday after he left to remind myself of him. Looking in the mirror I smiled to myself, happy that I was finally going to see my big brother again. I ran out the door and walked to the cafe down the block that my brother always took me to as a teenager. Shortly after I got there I heard the door open and his voice say, “Did you miss me?”  I whipped around to see him standing right behind me. He looked almost the same as the day he left. His long coat hung over his shoulders, covering most of his upper body. He had on a white shirt, the top buttons left undone to show his slightly tanned chest. His tan pants were rolled up to his knees, showing his strong, toned legs. “Wow you even remembered my hat!” “Zachary!!” I jumped on him, holding him in a vice like grip and giggling like a little istanbul travestileri girl. “Aren’t you going to give me a hug,” I asked in a teasing voice. He reached his right arm around me and held me to his rock hard chest and chiseled abs. I enjoyed the feeling of his body against mine and said, “Oh come on don’t be afraid, give me a full hug.” He released me and started laughing, slapping his hand against his knees. “Dad never told you did he,” he asked, between spurts of laughter. “Told me what?” He removed his jacket and my eyes widened in horror. His left arm was gone from his shoulder down.  “What happened,” I asked panicking at the sight of his missing arm. “I lost it in the war. Someone threw a grenade at us. I quickly picked it up and threw it but it was too late. It was just close enough to get most of the arm, but far enough away not to kill me. They had to amputate it to the shoulder to avoid infection.” He said all this with a smile on his face, showing that after a vicious war he still hadn’t lost his optimistic outlook on life. We chatted over coffee for an hour, finally heading back to my apartment to sleep for the night. I set the couch in the living room up for him to sleep. He hugged me goodnight and I switched into my bed clothes, my panties and a  long dress shirt. I laid in bed thinking about how much Zach had changed emotionally. Before he left he was impulsive and brash, but now he was calm and deep thinking.  I laid in bed thinking about him and slowly felt the familiar tingle that I had always associated with him. As a kid I had always had a crush on him. Every girl probably does to some extent but I REALLY liked my brother. I slid my hand down to my moist panties travesti and slid a finger inside. What started as a gentle rubbing quickly turned into a full on finger fucking. My breathing got faster and faster as I raced towards my orgasm, sweat rolled down my neck as I started whispering Zach’s name over and over until I finally came. My whole body tensed up for a minute, convulsing in pleasureful seizures. A feeling of well being washed over me as a slowly fell asleep. At 5 in the morning I woke up extremely thirsty. I wandered into the kitchen, trying my best not to stir Zach. I grabbed the orange juice and drank straight from the carton. I slowly became aware of my surroundings, hearing the quick, heavy breathing that was coming from the living room. At first my mind went to naughty places, but as I listened I heard numbers ’58, 59, 60, 61′ and realized he was exercising.  I quietly crept over to the living room and saw him on the floor doing push ups with his one arm. As he continued exercising I noticed his body, toned, but still soft looking. As I looked him up and down I started becoming wet again, my hand subconsciously going to my panties, rubbing my pussy through the outside of the cloth. I stared hard at his gentle body rubbing faster and faster as I edged my way to an orgasm. Right before I came I heard, “enjoying the view?” My face turned bright red, and I said in a high pitched voice, “I was just wondering if you wanted breakfast, but I can see you’re busy” and ran towards my room. He followed, knocking on my door saying he was just finished exercising and was ready to eat whenever I was. I got dressed, taking a long time, trying to recover from my embarrassment. I threw on a tank top and  shorts and waited 20 minutes, wondering if he knew what I was doing. Finally I worked up the courage to join him in the kitchen.  He had started cooking pancakes, his missing arm hadn’t slow him down at all. “I heard you get up to get a glass of juice, but I didn’t know if you were sleep walking or what.

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