Until my sister got a boyfriend.
And until I saw her having sex with that boyfriend.
It was exactly two years ago… I was in sixth grade, and my sister was in her second year of high school.
The sports club practice I was in was suddenly canceled, so I came home early.
When I saw a pair of men’s shoes at the entrance—neatly placed right next to my sister’s shoes—I immediately thought of the boyfriend she had recently started dating.
He was a senior in the track and field club, the same year as my sister.
Because of the five-year age difference, we never attended the same school, but I had seen him a few times at joint sports events.
He was handsome and very popular, and people said they made a perfect good-looking couple.
That guy was with my sister… on her bed… There used to be a catchphrase: “Idols don’t go to the toilet.” It came from the idea that normal humans do dirty things, but idols are pure, ideal, and perfect beings who have nothing to do with such things.
I think I used to see my sister that way too.
Ever since we were little, she was the closest person to me—beautiful, perfect… and I believed she would stay that way forever.
I couldn’t touch her, but no one else could dirty her either.
She would remain my pure, ideal sister.
That delusion was completely shattered when I saw her on the bed with her legs spread wide, accepting her senior’s lust, getting thrust into, and making faces and voices I had never seen or heard before as she clung to him and moaned, “More, more!” I quietly closed the slightly open door without being noticed and ran to my room.
But I couldn’t hold back and rushed to the first-floor toilet.
I yanked down my pants and underwear in one motion and frantically jerked my cock, squeezing out everything.
My sister’s image was burned into my retinas, so I had no trouble finding material.
In fact, it kept popping up in my mind without me even trying, and my erection wouldn’t go down.
I came an unbelievable number of times.
More than when I used the secretly bought onahole.
Both in volume and frequency.
After I had probably emptied everything in my balls and finally went soft… I cleaned up carefully and came out just as my sister and her boyfriend were coming down from the second floor.
I acted like I had just gotten home and greeted them normally.
They didn’t seem to notice anything.
After that day, I started seeing my sister as a woman.
More precisely… I had already been seeing her as a woman.
I was aware that my gaze toward her had changed since I was little—filled with desire and other things.
I had also secretly peeked at her changing clothes or in the bathroom.
But that day’s event removed the last restraint… in a bad way.
My sister wasn’t an untouchable, pure, ideal beautiful girl forever.
She had been dirtied by a man and had enjoyed it… she was just an ordinary woman.
And because she was no longer that “pure, untouchable beautiful girl,” my desires overflowed.
Taking advantage of the fact that she didn’t see me as the opposite sex and wasn’t on guard against me.
I have watched my sister more closely than anyone except our parents.
That’s why I know something about her.
My sister… once she falls asleep, she doesn’t wake up.
It’s not that she has a habit of oversleeping.
She wakes up fine for early things like 6 a.m.
or 5 a.m.
for morning club practice.
She even wakes up before her alarm.
But strangely, she can’t wake up when someone tries to wake her.
Even if you call her name, shake her, hit her, pinch her, tickle her, shine a flashlight on her face, or yank off her blanket, she won’t wake up.
When we were little, I once playfully did a body press on her while she was sleeping.
She did wake up that time, but groggily, and fell back asleep right away.
That surprised me.
In the end, Mom gave her a hard slap that made her face turn red, and only then did she wake up.
Even then she still looked sleepy, which honestly freaked me out a bit.
It seems like her body won’t shake off the sleepiness until it’s fully satisfied.
I mentioned she wakes up before the alarm, but she probably doesn’t wake up to the alarm sound at all, so that alarm clock is pointless in two ways.
That “sleeping dirtiness” is one of the few clear flaws in my otherwise perfect sister who excels in both academics and sports.
And knowing that, I decided to take advantage of my sister’s bad habit.
Of course, I was aware I was doing something wrong, so I was very cautious at first.
If my sister woke up… or if Mom or Dad caught me even if she didn’t… I thought there would be no place left for me in this house.
But even so… I couldn’t hold back.
At first, I only took off her clothes while she was sleeping.
Then I touched her soft body, took photos… and stopped there.
Even that was incredibly arousing and unbearable.
The last time I had touched her was years ago, back when we still took baths together before I became conscious of her as the opposite sex and started feeling embarrassed.
I had seen her bare skin many times before—her exposed naked body.
Her F-cup breasts, her tightly cinched waist, her soft thighs.
Skin as smooth as silk that made me want to keep touching it forever.
When I put my hands on her breasts and squeezed, they had an unbelievable, never-before-felt softness… they changed shape almost without resistance in my hands.
Squishy, kneadable, molding perfectly to my fingers.
Seeing her with those eyes from the start made everything feel completely different, even though I had seen it countless times.
The sensation of touching her was nothing like what I remembered from before.
It wasn’t the body of a family member you casually touch.
It was the skin of a seductive female filled with demonic charm… and I fell completely for it.
I jerked off in the toilet countless times remembering the sensation.
I also used the photos I took.