I lay on my bed in my room, just relaxing, listening to the music playing from my speakers. I was in a chill mood, mostly OAR and Dispatch playing. If you don’t know the bands, I suggest you check them out. Unfortunately, my relaxation time was not to be that day. The door slammed closed followed by heavy footsteps upstairs, then my door swinging open. My 19 year old sister, younger than me by just fifteen months, Erin, stood there, her eyes watery and red, her face twisted into an expression of anger that I have never seen before. I expected to burst into flames from the venom in her stare. “Why do guys have to be …UGH?!?!” She broke her sentence in frustration, unable to think of the correct word. Remaining calm, knowing her anger was not directed at me, but at her boyfriend, and apparently males in general, I rattled off, “Annoying, infuriating, douchey?” “I was going to go with cheating bastards, but yours work too…” “Wow, James cheated on you? I’m so sorry sis. You want to talk about it?” “If by talk you mean let me rant for about 15 minutes about what a jerk he is while you sit there and nod, then yes.” I couldn’t help but smile. “Sure.” I scooted over on my bed and let her lay down next to me. She talked and talked and talked, but I won’t bore you with every detail of what she said. Most of it was regarding how evil men are and what a bitch and slut the whore he cheated on her with is. The general rants of a 19 year old girl. I’d like to say istanbul travesti I was paying attention to the entire thing, but I only have so much patience, so my mind was wandering until she said, “…and right after I gave him head too. What a jackass. I mean, who the hell does that?” My attention suddenly returned, and I stared at her questioningly. She saw my look and grew sheepish. “Sorry, I guess there are some things my brother doesn’t need to know about me.” I nodded in the affirmative and she laughed. She leaned over and hugged me, her head on my chest as she continued to talk, but with less venom. Now talking to me rather than ranting at me. “We didn’t have sex, by the way. But I did give him head, then right after he told me he’d been cheating on me for a month or so with some slut who will fuck anything that moves. And that was it. We were over. After 8 months.” I was speechless. Usually, I can think of something to say, but I had nothing. Fortunately, Erin didn’t want to hear anything from me. She just wanted my comfort right now. Finally she just began to cry, having spat all the venom she could, she broke down, crying tears onto my chest, sobbing softly. All I could do was simply stroke her back and try to calm her down. Then, so faintly that I could barely hear it she said between sobs, “Maybe I’m just not pretty enough?” “Hey, Erin. You’re gorgeous, absolutely stunning.” “You’re just saying that. You’re istanbul travestileri my brother you have to be nice to me.” “No, it’s true.” And it was. My sister was very pretty. Simply adorable. Standing at about 5 foot 4 with chestnut brown hair and a few blonde highlights. Her hair hung to her mid back and was naturally straight. She had a petite frame. I would guess her breasts to be a small C cup. Her body was mostly legs, and she had a tight ass coming from years of playing soccer. Now I don’t normally ogle my sister, but it’s hard not to notice a cute girl when you see one. And Erin was cute. From her green/blue eyes to her button nose and high cheek bones, down to her feet. She was, as I already said, simply adorable. “Not like the slut James has been fucking. Not like that whore Giselle.” “No, Erin, you’re not like Giselle. She’s the class whore. She has a body that was purchased by her dad and was built to attract jackasses like James. You, my baby sister, are cute. A natural pretty, not the fake, silicone Playboy centerfold pretty.” “Gee, thanks, that makes me feel better.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. “I’m serious Erin. A lot of guys prefer a natural pretty to slutty pretty. You’re the type of girl guys want to be with, not just fuck and leave.” She looked up at me, almost tentatively. “What about you? What type of girl do you want to be with?” “Cute and naturally pretty. Someone sweet who travesti I can talk to. I want a relationship, not just a fuck-fest. Someone who has a head on her shoulders, who can carry a conversation. In short, I don’t want a sorority airhead. I want a girl like…well…like you.” “Aww…that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said. Thank you.” She gave me another hug and left my room with a smile on her face, but tears still running down her cheeks. I swear, as long as I live, I’ll never understand women. Before that conversation, I had never looked at my little sister as anything but that, my little sister. Just my sweet little sister who came to me with homework problems, boy problems, and just to talk or watch a movie. Just a close friend. But after, I started looking a little differently. She was exactly the type of girl I liked. None of my relationships had panned out because I held girls to a ridiculously high standard that no one could seem to meet. I was slowly starting to realize that Erin was that standard. And with that realization came a lot of conflicting feelings and, consequently behaviors. First, I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. I wasn’t overt about it, but I was spending more time with her than usual. Just relaxing together, or going to a movie or something completely innocuous. But, the more time I spent with her, the more impure my thoughts became. I started to become disgusted with myself, and spent less and less time with Erin. I would avoid her, not trusting myself around her. Ever perceptive, this was not lost on her. She came to me one night, knocking softly on my door. “Can we talk?” Her voice was soft, apprehensive, almost fearful. The thing I wanted most and least was for her to come in.