..you really are a boy?" I stupidly asked more like awonder making time to think than a real question and Stacey's hanging headsoberly nodded. "Look......I--I wasn't going to tell anyone, so you don'thave to worry about that." "I know," s/he quietly said with implicit trust that really screwed in myguilt. "So, Stacey...er, that your real name?" "Stacy--but without the 'e'," s/he vapidly enunciated. "That's neat. Guy's name sounds a girl's name just like how you look!"I quipped, my. I wanted to see its color but it was not visible in dark. I put it in my jeans pocket.I collected my mom’s panty, a first souvenir of the hardest fuck anyone can ever have. It was my reward.I watched time and it was 01:45am . it was a good 45 mins session. But next station was more than 1hr now. So I slowly bent down and asked mom “shall we go to the bathroom?”. As expected, she replied “I will give you one with my sandal you shameless bastard. Do not touch me”.That night passed with thoughts. I definitely lusted for him though. I curled up on the carpet near the bathroom door and began to unwillingly cry. The stupid thing was, I wasn’t completely sure why I was crying. Yes I was extremely angry and jealous to find my brother and sister as they were, and frustrated at them both thinking of me as their kid sister. But there was something more I couldn’t work out. Maybe it was love? Maybe that’s why I was crying? I didn’t hate my sister. I loved my sister. It hurt that she was the one. But as I did she pulled my hungry hands away and pinned me down smiling as she did so. She kissed ny neck and around my ear, this sent me crazy. I longed to touch her but she kept a tight grip on my wrists. She pulled my dress off and over my head, I was convinced she had done this before, and then remained her hold over me! This time kissing further down my body, kissing my nipples over the fabric of my bra. She must have read my mind because she fumbled at the clip of my bra. I arched my back.