Maybe this is a confession. Maybe this just needs to be shared. I know I’m not the only one. I know others who have experienced this.
Most are too afraid to think of it. Most can’t believe how beautiful it was. All of us were shaped by our sisters. Some of us were transformed by them.
As the middle child, my elder sister and younger sister would often tease me. They called me names, hid my things, pulled pranks on me and toyed with me.
As an Indian family from a middle class background, our home was quite small. The three of us shared a room, and had to sleep together on a queen sized bed.
Nights were hot and humid. My sisters would wear thin nighties with no underwear. I would sleep topless in boxers. This was our normal life. It was practical and humble. Our parents worked hard and were out of the house by early morning to then return late.
My elder sister mostly took care of me and my younger sister. She was strict and responsible. We called her ‘Didi’. She would feed us, bathe us, dress us and take us to school with her by bus. Over the years my elder and younger sisters naturally became closer, while leaving me to my devices.
As I got more time alone, a journey of self discovery began to take shape. The internet was quite a teacher. Friends would exchange explicit photographs and naughty videos. Discovering this imagery was confusing.
My only prior visual reference to the female form were my sisters beautiful, young, supple, feminine bodies.
After viewing pornography for the first time, it was impossible to look at my sexy sisters the same way again.
Their figures were changing too. My elder sister’s breasts were quite perky. She wore white cotton brassieres.
Our younger sister was a late boomer. She would often complain of tenderness and pain around her chest area.
To alleviate this discomfort, our elder sister would rub coconut oil on her younger sibling’s tiny little girl titties.
They would tell me to turn the other way. I would pretend to look out of the window, but their reflection was visible.
Every evening after our showers, the girls would tend to each other. Taking turns, they would rub each others sore tits.
I started to notice that they would pay special attention to their nipples. It looked like they mostly tickled the tips of nips.
My sisters would giggle a lot while massaging each others boos, but the giggling would transform into heavy moaning.
Gazing for weeks at the mirrored reflection of their evening self care routine in the window changed me forever.
A strange sensation would well up in my crotch. My tiny limp dick would slowly quadruple in size and become rock hard.
Fortunately being forced to face the other way helped me conceal this bulge in my boxers from my naughty sisters.
One morning I woke up to find them both standing above me, staring at me. They looked shocked and a little angry.
My elder sister pointed at my shorts and asked “What the hell is wrong with you?” This was the first time I woke up erect.
Perhaps that night I had my first erotic dream, I can’t really remember. The memory of my guilt and shame is vivid though.
I put a pillow on my crotch to hide my throbbing boyhood. This made my younger sister more upset “Eew, my pillow!”
She said grabbing it away, again exposing my now even harder bulge to them. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why…” I mumbled.
Didi took on a more stern stance. She told me to stand up, which I did hesitantly and slowly. Their eyes widened as I did.
“This is not allowed. If you are going to be in here with us, you need to behave properly, like we do.” Didi said loudly.
She proceeded to her cupboard and took out a bra and pair of her own panties. Handing them to me she said “Try this.”
“You want me to wear these?” I asked with a shudder of fear and embarrassment. She nodded and said “Yes, right now.”
“But, why?” I asked meekly. My younger sister was looking a bit shocked too. Her mouth was open, her hands trembling.
“Because if you dress up like us, maybe you will start being more like us… and that (pointing to my dick) won’t happen.”