Off to the Lake House with Sofie | Part 1 | [MF] [INC]

It was the summer after my second year of university. It was tradition for my family to go out to our lake house for a few weeks, enjoying the warmth, wilderness, swimming: lots of fun. This year, our dad was gone for a month long teaching assignment in the UK, and since it significantly overlapped with me and my step-sister Sofia’s college fall semester, we didn’t go with him. Yes, it would just be me, Sofia, and my step-mom Hannah alone for some time.

The road trip was very long – like twenty hours of driving long – but it was scenic, so we didn’t mind skipping the flight and saving money. Me and Sofia had been home alone, Hannah was out in Seattle for work, and we were driving separately and meeting at the lake house.

Sofia offered to drive, at 19 she was two years younger than me and had just gotten her license, and thought this would be nice practice. I was half dreading and half ambivalent about the drive, it would give me time to blast through some audiobooks, which is nice. I downed some Nyquil the night before departure to ensure I’d sleep early and be well rested for the drive. The flaw in that plan is so much Nyquil makes you just as tired the next morning until it gets out of your system.

……

“Hey bud, please get up!”

Color flooded in as I cracked open my eyes and peered out at Sofia standing at my door in a towel.

“I’m sorry but we should be leaving soon, I just finished in the shower so hop in.”

Sofia was very gentle and kind, and somehow more mature and responsible than me, despite being younger. She took school more seriously, was very polite and proper, and always on time. We had only known each other for a few years when our parents married, and I always feared she and Hannah would be like strangers in my home. It took some time, some awkwardness, but we slowly became comfortable with each other, and overtime turned into something like best friends. Neither of us were super social at school, or had ever been in serious relationships, so coming home to a friendly face who you could relate to was amazing. She warmed up an otherwise frigid encounter with the harshness of an early morning. I stumbled into the shower, complacent.

Charged up by a cold shower, I marched downstairs with a little more pep in my step. Sofia was in the kitchen, leaning on the counter with a mug. She glanced up at me with a glowing, caring smile.

“I made a pot of coffee if you want any.”

I thanked her and poured a cup, and we briefly discussed the timeline of the drive.

“If we leave within the hour we can make it to Des Moines for lunch, and be in Chicago for dinner, and avoid most of the rush hour traffic. I don’t want to be driving too late so I won’t fall asleep at the wheel.”

“Okay well I’m basically ready.”

A few moments passed as I patted my pockets, checking I had everything. I downed the last of my cup and put it in the dishwasher.

“By the way did you like, burn the coffee or something? It wasn’t bad or anything, just had a funky thing going on.”

I immediately felt bad for criticizing what Sofia had kindly done for me and sputtered another caveat as she looked down in dismay. This wasn’t the time for this, I knew Sofia had been going through some hard times, and she’s very sensitive, so I was doing my best to be gentle with her.

“Oh I’m sorry, I think I left it on high heat for too long, want me to make another?”

“No! It was so nice of you, forget about it! Really, you’ve been so nice since we got back from school, I’m sorry, really, the coffee was so nice!”

Sofia looked up at me with big eyes and leaned in to hug me. Slightly anxious about leaving on time and from the caffeine, I began to feel restless about the time we were wasting.

“Without Mom or Dad here, I just want to be a good sister. We both had really hard semesters, and it’s been lonely here by ourselves, so … oh I don’t know.”

She squeezed her arms around me.

“You’ve been so kind and helpful Sofia, don’t worry about it! You’re so great and I’m really excited to go on this trip with you.”

I returned the embrace. She was so sweet.

It was in the upper 70s out, and we were due for a long trip, so I was wearing loungewear. This might not be obvious to most, but for well-endowed gentlemen, securing your genitals is very important to avoid embarrassing social faux pas. For instance, in loose pants and underwear, your junk can be highly visible while flaccid, and can bounce, sway, and generally get in the way while moving around. Even in platonic hugs, especially in platonic hugs, I always arch back my hips so as to not press my junk against the other person. However, Sofia had hugged me extra tight and nestled her head into my neck, and, wearing sweatpants myself, became conscious of my manhood pressing into her soft tummy.

But whatever, I’m an adult, nothing I can’t handle here. Except, consider the fact that Sofia was also wearing loungewear. Now I’m not normally in the business of assessing my stepsister’s wardrobe, but the male gaze can be pulled to certain feminine features, even in platonic, or highly nonsexual relationships. Therefore, I had noticed, a few, small things about Sofia today. When she had walked from the kitchen island to put her mug in the dishwasher, I noticed she was wearing grey biker shorts. The elastic fabric hugged a toned belly and waist above a plump bum and wide hips. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the shorts, but her butt formed a kind of wobbling shelf above her thighs. What I did know was the fault of the shorts was the fact that the tight fabric rode up her bum so that each heavy cheek wobbled with independence from the other.

So yes, I had stared at her ass. Entirely non-sexually. After all, she had been religiously doing squats and lunges and whatever in the gym for the past year, so yeah, whatever, she had a fat ass. If anything, I should praise her for her hard work. Frankly I want a fat ass too, its just an important muscle for posture and mobility and stuff.

The other distraction was less due to her hard work in the gym, and more due to lucky genetics. Sofia, not a big deal, had a larger chest than most. I had little interest in any of this, but naturally over the course of five years living with her, had noticed at times she wasn’t wearing a bra under a shirt, or in a sports bra, that her breasts were … large. Two firm mounds of soft flesh, each slightly smaller than the size of her face. Now I’m not like measuring them or anything, maybe I was interested out of the sheer physics of the matter. It just astounded me how these mounds sat up, firmly on her chest, without a bra. Not only did they sit up at attention, but it looked like the peaks of these mounds actually curved upwards like a ski-slope, evident by how loose shirts fell taut on her chest, suspended between her collar and nipples.

The point is, they were pressed against my chest in this moment. Now I’m an adult, shes my stepsister, we’re cool. It’s not like she was naked after all, she had on a sports bra and a tank top. But out of caution, I did my best to think of something else, and adjust some limbs to minimize any regrettable physical contact. Her head snuggled deeper into my neck as I adjusted myself, and I had one hand on her back (I could feel those lower back muscles from squatting, that takes lots of work), and the other cradling her head. Her hair was brown, messy, warm, and very soft. I knew she was very sensitive right now, she had a really hard semester at school, and had some kind of breakup with a close friend. Now she just wanted a shoulder to lean on. That’s what was important, not our stupid bodies.

“Ready queen?”

She looked up with her adorable, grinning face, before pressing her head against my chest once more, and gently shaking me back and forth a few times, before leaping back with her hands on her hips. I made a point of keeping eye-contact as her sports bra contained her boobs as they bounced once, followed by a series of progressively more subtle oscillations up and down.

“Ready!” She exclaimed, smiling radiantly. As I mentioned something about the emptying the last of the fridge, I swear she glanced down for just a moment, but a moment that felt a little too long, directly at my dick, before snapping her eyes back up at me, with a friendly smile the whole time.

“Yep! I’ll toss the leftovers, can you put the heavy luggage in the trunk?”

“Sure.”

I walked away and finished packing the car. Even after lifting multiple heavy suitcases, and sitting for a moment, my balls still tingled with warmth and pressure, and a subtle craving ate away inside me. I put my feet on the dash as Sofia leaped in the driver’s seat, and we pulled out, and started to the lake house.

…….

“Was the men’s bathroom also disgusting?”

I laughed and confirmed it was. We had stopped at a gas station two hours out from the destination to piss and get some snacks.

“But you expect it for guy’s bathrooms, what was so bad about yours?”

“There was … fluid, all over the toilet seat. I had to basically squat above the seat so I wouldn’t get any on me”

I gave a genuine laugh. In moments like these, its nice to be comfortable enough with someone to give your real laugh, your real smile, without the self-consciousness and stilted mannerisms of conversing while socially anxious.

“Wow. That is … disgusting. How’s that even happen in a girl’s bathroom?”

She threw back her head a little and made a noise in her throat which might have been a laugh.

“You’d be surprised bro!”

“I guess all that work in the gym paid off, who knew you’d need to hold a static squat for thirty seconds in the middle of the corn belt to not get gonorrhea.”

Was that weird to say? I glanced at her while internally wincing at what I said, but her face beamed. The dimples on her cheeks looked so cute.

“Exactly! It’s not just about having all this.”

As she said that, she reached one hand down from the wheel and grabbed a handful of muscle and fat of her hip, which was even plumper now pressed against the seat, and jiggled it jokingly.

We giggled and I made some awkward and vague remark about how it’s never bad to have a fat ass, without actually saying anything about asses, or fat, or really any coherent concept.

With the hum of the highway filling what would otherwise be an awkward silence, we snacked comfortably, played some music, and I read a bit on my phone.

The sun began to set at thirty minutes out from the lake house. It was harder to see now that we were in a heavily forested region, and orange and red light cutting through the trees shimmered across us and the car which cut through them at sixty miles per hour. Long car rides have a somewhat hypnotic effect: the constant humming of the car and wind, the periodic swoosh of a passing vehicle, the long periods of silent contemplation staring out into nature. I crooked my head to look at Sofia. She was zoned out, focused entirely on the road, probably lost in thought as I had been. Deeper red beams danced across her face, her shoulders and bust. Sofia had a very regal face, like a face a queen or princess would have. I found her very beautiful, but never had discussed it with anyone, so I wasn’t sure if it was just me or if she was truly as pretty as I thought. She had a strong brow and jaw, like one on a statue from antiquity, and looked very serious and proper when not smiling or talking. Her petite, gentle nose and big eyes gave her look a young and tender dimension. When she did smile, adorable dimples matched her cleft chin. Now, sitting in this car, my attention was drawn to her full lips. The top lip sat naturally high, so when at rest her teeth could be seen through a small gap between her lips. They were soft pink like the tip of her nose. I was interested by her cheeks, which were a little darker shade than the rest of her face, though at other times they could also be pink. Unlike me she had no freckles on her face, but had a few on her lower neck, which looked very vulnerable but elegant with her hair gathered in a messy bun.

“Just a few minutes away.”

After not speaking for so long her words came out cracked with vocal fry. As she turned to look at me, I acted as if I also just turned my head, and hadn’t been staring at her.

“Great. Can’t wait!”

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/sra6f2/off_to_the_lake_house_with_sofie_part_1_mf_inc