You want Carrie to take it slow

You stayed home the next day, taking the Friday off. You didn't want Sam to think that you were inconsiderate bastard. Over the evening, your girlfriend Carrie was very upbeat as she arranged the spare room, getting blankets for the bed and other items and furniture that would be necessary for a comfortable life. It seemed as if she was already settling in the role of your sister's "girlfriend". Once you two were ready, coffee in hand, you discussed the situation at hand.

"So it seems like she's already on her way. Mom texted that she left an hour ago," you said, looking at your phone. Carrie nodded, taking a sip out of her mug.

"I see. She'll be here in another hour then. Gosh, never did I imagine we'd be doing this."

"Neither did I, to be honest. And this isn't a fleeting thing," you gave a reminder. "She's already enrolled, and is relying on us. We can't just kick her out once things go astray. If not for my conscious, then at least for the fact that my folk would rain fury and wrath upon me."

"I know, I know," she agreed. "I'll keep that in mind. Speaking of that, how's your sister gonna play out in all of this?"

"What do you mean?" You questioned, tilting your head.

"I mean, how're we going integrate her into the plan? I assume she doesn't know." You shook your head. "See what I mean? Are we going to let her know? Should I pounce on her right away? Or should I try seducing her first, taking her out to dinners and whatnot?"

You fell into deep thought. On one hand, letting Sam know ahead of time eased prospects quite a bit and was a much quicker, not to mention, safer ordeal. It would also help to impose limits on what she could and could not do. But at the same time, there was this... fakeness to it. As if though you guys would be acting out a scene from a play. You wanted the feelings to have some realness to them, some emotions to be flowing through your and Carrie's veins, a sense of pride for any accomplishments you have. And besides...

"No, I don't think we should tell Sam about this," you said, shaking your head. "After all, a big part of this operation is to give her a confidence boost, right? How would she feel if we just up and went, 'Hey, wanna fuck my girlfriend?'"

"That's true... it does feel odd. Not to mention that if she's as insecure as you said she is, she might be **** to agree," Carrie stroked her chin.

"Exactly! We don't want to make it appear as if this is a pity fuck. Hell, it'll wound her pride more anything."

"I see. Judging by your thoughts, it seems you want me to go in more slowly."

You nodded your head. "Just start off light. Talk to her about the troubles of syndrome, bond with her, go out shopping and treat her as somebody 'hosting'. Then slowly and slowly..."

"You want me to reveal my sex troubles?"

"Well, not necessarily, you could also... wait, are you saying I'm not pleasing you in bed?" Your face warped in a bout of surprise, before Carrie's giggle gave away the joke.

"I'll figure something out. You don't have to be the only master planner, you know?"

~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~

The ring of the doorbell announced the arrival of your visitor, your guest. Carrie had brought out her white cocktail dress for this occasion. You... well, you weren't as much of a savant regarding these things, but Carrie insisted that you at least lose those jeans and t-shirt and wear something semi-formal. So here you were, comb in hand, ready to greet anybody to come through the front door.

"Honey, could you get the door? I need to check on the chicken."

"Sure," you shrugged your shoulders, putting your comb down on the counter and trotting to the door-step. To be honest, you haven't seen your sister in a while, when you had gone off to college, you rarely returned back home to visit: your parents insisting on coming over to your place instead, not wanting to bother you too much. And after you graduated? Well, you had to find a job, get settled in, work, — you just didn't have the time. What was it... five years since you last saw her? That awkward 16-year old high school sister of yours. You opened the door.

"Big BROOOOO!!!" You almost fell from the resulting impact. You looked downwards to see the **** that slammed, seeing a head snuggling into your chest, her blonde ponytail swaying in action. She had you wrapped in a tight hug... actually it was too tight.

"Can't... breathe..." You protested, wriggling around before she finally got the cue. Letting go, she patted you down, as if making amends for the creases she'd created. You didn't care.

You took a closer glance, trying to examine her further. Gone was the jittering, slouching figure. Back straightened, radiating smile (gone were her braces of ye old days), more chiseled physique than before. Not overwhelming, but compared to the bone-thin figure of the gamer girl... there was a significant difference. You could see the signs of early adulthood settling in.

"Glad to see you made it here safe, Sammy," you acknowledged. "I trust the ride wasn't too stressful?"

"Nah, not really," she shrugged her shoulders, stepping backwards. This gave you the opportunity to examine her even further. She wasn't tall, shorter than you by about a head, — about five-five or five-six if you were to estimate, but her posture commandeered a more imposing aura for her height. She was dressed in casual clothes. A loose tank top shirt that didn't hide the inferior stature of her breasts. You couldn't exactly call her a washboard anymore, but those things certainly didn't command any presence. On the other hand, you could see even through the baggy, grey sweatpants the contours of her legs and backside, — and if it wasn't your sister, you'd certainly "hit that".

You wouldn't be surprised if you'd been told this girl was on the varsity cheerleader team. Though, knowing your sister, the chances of her being in an e-sports club were far higher. It wasn't until she was diagnosed with wrist issues that she took her health a bit more seriously. Or rather, your mom persuaded her.

"Really, it was only a matter of packing it all together last night. Mom and dad helped out though, I imagine they were relieved that I was finally out of the house. They were scampering around trying to get it done as quickly—" Sam suddenly cut off, eyes widening as her gaze turned behind you.

"Why, hello there," Carrie sashayed up to you two. "I believe it's our first time meeting, young lass?"

Sam hid herself behind your back, peeking out from behind. Finally, she stuttered. "B-b-bro, you're MARRIED?!"

You sighed. "No, Sam. Meet Carrie, she's my girlfriend. Didn't I text you some months ago that we got together? What happened to that?"

"Eh~" Sam glanced sideways, not sure what to say. "Well, you know. I've been online for the last few months, trying to grind all the way to masters. And I'm almost there too! Don't look at me like that, my scholarship is dependent on it!" She noticed you rolling your eyes. Of course. She got a scholarship for gender equality in sports. Which was sorta bull-shit. Since when were e-sports considered physical activities? Not to mention there were so few futanari players (and people in general) that she was bound to get it even if she was a low-ranked player. But what did you know about that anyway? Sometimes you wondered whether she was more boyish than you, her activities certainly made it seem that way!

"Well, uh, so..." Your sister shifted from one foot to the other, before throwing out her hand like a pitcher's toss for a handshake. "Pleased to meet you! I'm Samantha. You can call me Sam. I was actually expecting just my brother here, so hopefully I'm not imposing."

"Not at all! I'm sure we'll get along just fine," Carrie clasped Sam's hand with both of hers. "It's so nice to finally have some additional feminine touch around the house. Perhaps we might even go shopping together sometime, it's been a while since I've had company."

"S-shopping?" You noticed Sam shiver, as if her body was about to pour buckets of sweat. "Oh, uh, yes! Sure. We can do that. Where's the nearest bathroom?"

Carrie pointed it out and received a thanks, before Sam dove into the bathroom after a several-hours long ride. Meanwhile, Carrie strutted up to you.

"Shy girl, isn't she?"

"Yeah."

"I'm surprised she didn't even mention about her condition."

"She's always been a secretive person," you mentioned. "Doesn't help that she apparently got bullied in high school once her female classmates found about it. Don't really know the details, but Mom told me that she'd change in the bathroom stalls afterwards. Probably contributed to it. You saw how she reacted when you mentioned the shopping trip?"

"Yes," Carrie responded, thinking. "Looks like this'll be a tougher nut to crack than I thought. But I have an idea or two to bring her out of the shell."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

Carrie giggled. "You'll see soon enough." And she proceeded towards the kitchen. You rolled your eyes once more, letting an exasperated sigh loose from all these secrets upon secrets.