"Sibling Rivalry" - An average guy is taken advantage of by his younger sister.

In a small town, there lived a man by the name of Steven Wright.

He was just about to turn thirty, he worked a stable job as a bank teller, his girlfriend of three years had broken up with just last week, his car was broken down and in the shop, and worst of all, his twenty-five-year-old sister had been mooching off of him for the past couple of months.

The only real benefit to having Monica cramping up his small one-bedroom apartment was that she had a fairly nice car that their parents had gotten her for graduating college, which he was now using to travel between his home and workplace.

Steve was five-foot-ten, while Monica was just barely over five-foot-tall. Steve was slender and kept himself in decent shape, while Monica was definitely on the heavy side. Steve was social and had several friends, while Monica was a shut-in NEET that preferred hoarding his living room to play video games and watch TV instead of going out and trying to find a job with her Master's Degree in Psychology.

Both of them had dirty blonde hair, fairly pale skin, and neither of them had any sorts of tattoos or piercings, nor did they have any sort of religious preferences.

The two got along as well as any pair of adult siblings living together would, and Steve had to admit that it was nice to have Monica around to talk to and keep his mind off of things ever since he was dumped so harshly by his cheating ex-girlfriend.

His workday was dragging on, and being that it was a fairly slow day, Steve asked his kind old manager if he could take the rest of the day off and start his weekend early.

The old man obliged and told him to get some rest, so Steve left at about three in the afternoon and made his way home.

He stopped by the store to grab a few groceries, but was back at his apartment in about a half-hour.

When Steve opened the door, the familiar scent of value-menu fast-food mixed with a hint of B.O. entered his nose and he rolled his eyes. He stepped into the small kitchen to see that it was still as messy as it had been before he left for work. Steve was a little annoyed because he had asked Monica to clean up some while he was gone, but part of him knew that nothing was going to get done.

Monica was practically allergic to cleaning, and the tornado of dirty dishes coupled with the many empty cups of instant noodles was a testament to that. He was almost afraid to walk into the living room to see its condition, but after putting away the groceries and tidying things up enough for him prep for cooking, Steve desperately wanted to get to his room and change out of his work outfit, which consisted of a blue dress-shirt, white slacks, and black dress-shoes. He passed by the living room and turned into the short hallway that led to the bathroom and his own room, glancing briefly at the clothes scattered around his cheap furniture and floor and the empty energy drinks laying on every hard surface around there, Steve tried the handle for his room and found it to be locked.

He sighed.

Monica was probably taking another mid-day nap in his bed again, which he didn't really mind. She did that pretty often, probably because the couch wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world to try and get some decent sleep on. Thankfully, when he entered the bathroom he saw a pair of clean-ish black basketball shorts draped along the edge of his laundry hamper.

He was going to do laundry tomorrow anyway, so he reused his dress-shirt and just swapped out his pants for those shorts after taking a quick shower.

Now feeling refreshed, Steve went to the kitchen to crack open a beer and get dinner started. While waiting for water to boil on the stove, he finished cleaning up the kitchen and even went to the living room to straighten up, throwing away all of the trash he could find before gathering up his sister's clothes into a neat pile by the couch and wiping down every surface. As soon as Steve finished cleaning, feeling a sense of peace and comfort at the tidiness of his apartment, he poured some olive oil in the boiling pot of water and then tossed in a pack of thin spaghetti noodles.

As time passed and more things like ground beef and pasta sauce began to cook on the stove, Steve was starting to feel light-headed.

That's weird, he thought to himself as he took a sip of beer. He wasn't really tired, and there was no way that he was already getting buzzed from just half a beer. It felt like it was getting harder and harder to concentrate, as if he were slowly getting stoned. For the next half-hour, he stared dumbly at the stove and everything that was cooking on top, trying to figure out what the next step was in making spaghetti.

Were the noodles done yet? How was he supposed to know? The sauce was bubbling and probably needed to be stirred, but Steve wasn't sure if he was supposed to do that or let it sit as is. The meat crackled and hissed as the moisture evaporated from the pan, and the smell of burning meat began to fill his nose. He knew he should do something about at least one of those things, but all he could seem to focus on for more than two seconds was the raging erection that was causing his shorts to tent outwards in front of him.

Instead of reaching for a ladle or spatula, Steve eventually leaned back against the counter opposite to the stove and brought a hand to the waistline of his shorts, slowly pulling them down and letting his cock flop out freely in the warm kitchen air.

He just stood there and watched its five-inch length twitch, aching with the need for release.

Before his very limited thoughts could decide to reach down and grab a hold of his member, a throaty giggle from his left caught Steve's attention.

Standing in the entryway of the kitchen, stood Monica. She looked different, Steve noticed. Her usually greasy and messy blonde hair looked fresh and clean as it hung around her shoulders, the floral pink/yellow pajamas around her once pudgy body were showing off a slender but curvy hourglass figure he'd never seen on her before, and her big blue eyes were looking him up and down as she wore an expression of utter joy on her cute round face.

"H-Hey, Monica..." Steve said, his speech slightly slurred. "You look... skinny."

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, which were staring down the ample set of D-cup melons hiding underneath her long-sleeved top.

"Do I?" She asked, then giggled. "I hadn't noticed."

"Huh?" Steve's head tilted to the side slightly. "How would you, uh... Not, uh, know... Like, uh... Hard to think..." Steve mumbled, looking back down to his erection with amusement. "Hahah, hard..."

"Yes, yes you are." The short girl said, her voice dripping with lust as she entered the kitchen. "I think I can fix that, though."

"You can?" Asked the literal idiot. "How?"

Monica didn't answer with words, she just gave him a wink and went to the stove to turn off the burners. After that, she took him by the hand and gently but firmly led him out of the kitchen.

"But... the food?"

"Don't worry about it, I'll clean that up tomorrow."

Steve rolled his eyes at that and reluctantly followed his sister with his cock still exposed, his gaze mostly fixated on her round and ample butt as it jiggled and sloshed around with every sexy step she took.

"Pfft, right..."