My sister and I lived together while we were going to college in Seattle. About a year after we took the two bedroom apartment we had attended a party and both of us got fucked up enough that our morals were rendered lifeless by a flood of alcohol and a handful of meds. I’m not sure how we got home but I vaguely remember watching her pull her skin tight jeans off while complaining about spilling something on them.

My sister doesn’t have a model’s body, she tends to be a little thick around the middle with a big round, bouncy ass. She fills a 36 D bra to overflowing, her tits always did attract me. At 19 years old she is a hefty girl, cute, bordering on pretty with deep brown eyes and thick brown hair; her narrow nose points straight over full rose tinted lips, her cheerfully rounded cheeks produce deep dimples when she smiles. She is 5’6 but comes in around 175 pounds. As I watched her laid back on the sofa wriggling her legs out of the pants, she became the sexiest woman I had ever seen.

She kicked her jeans to a pile on the floor then put her hands between her thighs and began to massage the crease of skin where her legs formed the junction of her body. “Ah, damn, those pants were too tight, they were rubbing the insides of my legs, I need to lose a few pounds.” She tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling as she massaged away the irritation caused by her jeans, the edges of her hands smoothing over dark red panties and the mound of her sex under them.

I stared at her, intrigued that she was baring herself as if I wasn’t in the room, my prick started reacting to the girl in front of me. “You don’t need to lose anything except the pants, get the next size larger. You look pretty fucking sexy just like that.”

She looked up at me, Vodka blurred her speech, “You think I’m sexy? You can lie twice in one fucking sentence? Number one, you never dated a fluffy girl in your life, number two, I’m your sister, why should I be sexy to you?”

I ignored the questions “Take your shirt off, I want to see if your bra matches your panties.”

My sister stopped moving everything and eyeballed me for 10 seconds then began to smile. Her eyes dropped to the growing bulge at my groin “What color are your boxers?” she asked with a hint of tease.

She reached for her blouse buttons while I pulled my pants to the floor. It was only seconds until we confronted each other in our underwear. My cock had become an erection, my striped boxers formed a tall tent over it. I didn’t care, my modesty had died from alcohol poison so I stood boldly tall and proud for her inspection. And inspect me she did. She stood up directly in front of me, the tips of her dark red bra were close enough I could feel the heat of her body. My sister is almost a full head shorter than me so she looked up into my eyes as eight of her fingers worked under the band of my shorts and pulled them away from my stomach. She stepped back one pace and looked at what she had uncovered. She lifted her face to me again, “Nice, I bet your girls like that.”