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Everyone having sex is at least 18. This story is a work of fiction. I made it all up. Check reality at the door and enjoy it for what it is. Special thanks to goducks111 for his help and making this a better story.
Chapter 1 – Finding Anastasia
Like most nights for the last two years, I am on the streets of a large city, looking through another dark alley. I work in a motel room during the day as a programmer/consultant. I work online, which allows me to be anywhere. That suits my needs perfectly. Typically, NASA has me working on projects, often reviewing research and new designs.
It’s dark, cold, and windy, what a surprise for downtown Chicago. I am wearing a long, dark black, wool trench coat with mittens and a stocking cap. I am fueled by the hope that I can fix the mistake my parents made ten long years ago when my misunderstood sister was ejected from our home on her 18th birthday. I was fourteen at the time, a child genius, my parents were proud of me. I was going to make them lots of money.
My parents are labeled as a genius too, but they have had a much harder time dealing with life. They couldn’t make the transition from brilliant to successful. I have had no such problems. It’s been easy for me to cope and adapt with children and adults as I grew up. For my parents, I was their meal ticket to easy street. That didn’t work out. They miscalculated my love for my sister. She was the one person in the world that could intellectually challenge me. That made her unique, which is a huge thing with me.
Imagine growing up, and you know all the answers to any question they ask. No joke is funny, you know the punchline as they ask the question. There are very few surprises in life. It’s boring. Unless you have an older sister that asks questions that challenge your morals, values, and intellect. She made me decide what was necessary, right and wrong and made me think about theory rather than just facts. She taught me to think three dimensionally. No, not as in three-dimensional items, it’s a term we developed to describe how we approach problem-solving. I use it every day.
My sister is far smarter than me. However, she was mentally unstable and never reached her potential. My parents never saw her potential, they just wanted a quick payday. They didn’t want to be bothered with her. She had a trust fund from the grandparents that she tapped into every so often, that’s how I know what city she was in. I had written several phone apps and made boatloads of money, more than I will ever need in two lifetimes. I have the resources to go out searching the streets for my sister now that I am twenty-four, much to the disappointment of my parents that wanted to sell my abilities to the highest bidder.
I am a geeky kid and had few friends in school. I was a loner, kids never understood me. Other kids were so far behind me we had nothing in common. Annie, she was impressive. However, as she aged, she started acting irrational and seemed unstable. She could be violent if provoked.
While lost in thought remembering these details, I run into a phone pole. Ouch! I notice several bums in an alley pushing a woman, it’s worth checking out. As I get close, her hair is black, my sister is blond. This woman is fat and puffy where my sister was always skinny, another false alarm.
The guys are pushing the girl and hitting her. I yell at them to leave her alone. I am in fantastic shape at 6′ 4″, 250 lbs. I am imposing to most people, but not this group. I call 911 and advise that an ambulance and the police should come around as the group will be needing their services soon.
I have no idea that two high school punks are coming up behind me. One stabs me in the shoulder while the second goes for my wallet. I have adrenaline going from the anticipated fight. Instead of going down and freaking out, I get mad. With lightning reflexes, I turn on the punks, relieve them of their weapons, and smash their faces. They both drop like a sack of potatoes.
Two officers pull up in time to watch the crazy lady limp to us. Her face is full of bruises. She is muttering numbers as she walks up.
The woman stops, looks up at us, and says, “Charlie has been stabbed with a 6 ¾” knife in the right shoulder. He needs eight stitches.”
She then turns to the side, throws up, and falls unconscious.
questions me, “Do you know her?”
I reply with uncertainty, “I didn’t think so, but my name is Charlie. I’m looking for my sister that I haven’t seen in ten years. She was blond and thin last time I saw her.”
I feel lightheaded, I sit down.
I request, “She goes to the hospital too. If there’s a chance she’s my sister, I have to know.”
Then the world starts to black out. I see paramedics, we are 3.42 miles from Cook County hospital, I will live.
Chapter 2 – Cook County Hospital
I wake up in the ER. I have been bandaged, there are IV’s in me, and they’re giving me blood. The nurse looks like she is part of a biker gang due to an abundance sarıyer escort of tattoos and piercings, although she is dressed in pure white. Tattoos, piercings, spiked hair, not my type.
Still groggy, I ask, “What happened to the woman who came in with me?”
Biker nurse says in a pleasing voice, “She’s in psych, crazy as a loon. She spouts off numbers constantly.”
Now intrigued, I start commanding, “That crazy woman just might be my sister. I want her cleaned up, given new clothes, recorded, and then I want every blood test you can do, done. If this hospital can’t handle that, prepare to have her transported to Lake Forest.”
Biker nurse is surprised by my request and asks, “Why would you want to record her?”
Knowingly, I tell her, “I am pretty sure some of the numbers I heard were her calculating pi, others were latitude and longitude coordinates. She is more than she seems. Am I staying or transferring?”
Biker nurse coldly says, “Our average patient is from Cook County Jail. They will happily milk you dry doing tests. You name it, we will do it.”
Explaining myself, “I’m looking for anything that might cause her mental condition. I want to see her clean, I need to verify if she is my sister or not. I’ll help her either way, but my pockets are far deeper for my sister. Can I go now?”
Biker nurse laughs at me, “Baby, you are rich, clean, cute, and you lost a bunch of blood, we’re keeping you for at least the night.”
I ask the nurse, “The lady that might be my sister said I was stabbed with a six- and three-quarter-inch blade and would need eight stitches. How many did they put in?
Biker nurse looks it up and then drops the chart, she looks speechless but mumbles, “Eight stitches. How?”
I smile, “She is more than she seems.”
Several psych people interview me about her past and my requests. Tests are in progress, they clean her up, they interview her, medicate her, and then lock her up. I don’t want her leaving on me. Cook County Hospital knows how to keep people where they belong.
The next day I am set free and taken to see the homeless woman that I hope is my sister. With gaining so much weight, her face is puffy. However, her gorgeous golden blond hair is back, although cut short because it was “a mess.” She smiles when she sees me, and then starts with the numbers.
I inform the staff, “She is rattling off the latitude and longitude coordinates of houses we lived in, and now she is calculating pi again. Can I hear the recordings from yesterday?”
Psych doc coldly responds, “She repeated this over and over.”
He plays about ten minutes of my sister listing numbers.
With each number I get more excited, “That is the coordinates of each city she has stayed at for the last five or so years and the amount she paid for each bus ticket to move. We have found my sister Anastasia. Hi Annie!” I hug her.
Annie stops her mumbling, looks at me and with a sad voice, “Charlie. Help,” then falls asleep from the meds.
I ask with a concerned voice, “How is she physically?”
Doc states coldly, “Physically, she’s a mess, that isn’t uncommon for street people. A good diet, some vitamins, and some exercise, and she will show remarkable improvement. What doesn’t improve we’ll target with medication. I believe you are right; something is causing her condition. She seems highly intelligent.”
My first thought is, “No shit doc. She makes you look like a mental midget.” I stay silent.
For two weeks she is heavily medicated. Methodically they search for and find issues. Prescriptions are written, tests were redone, dosages adjusted. As we get close, Annie stops spewing numbers when awake. I can’t ever remember her being awake and not talking. She wakes up with me and the doctor at her bedside.
Annie cheerfully says, “Doc, no more sleeping pills.”
She tells them how to adjust the drug dosages. They agree. I am on my feet; I want to rush to her. Will she remember me?
Annie scolds me, “Well, aren’t you going to come hug your sister?”
I jump at her and squeeze her tight. Immediately her hand goes to my stab wound that is still healing.
I smirk, “I am almost fully healed.”
I explain, “I have been searching for a couple of years. I didn’t even recognize you. It was pure chance that we met.”
Annie corrects me, “No, I caused the fight and relied on your sense of honor to save me. My mind has been here all along, my body just didn’t respond. There was a haze and a disconnect between my mind and my body. You never wavered, even at home you knew something was wrong, yet nobody listened to you. They just wanted me gone. When can I leave?”
Chapter 3 – Shopping, Work, & Sleeping
Three days later, we leave the hospital. The moment we are outside, she takes my hand and never lets go. I take her to Michigan Avenue. I give her a credit card with her name on it, so she can pay without my help. I want to silivri escort give back her independence. I get a hug and tears. She bought a purse, wallet, three full sets of clothes, luggage, a coat, and five sets of shoes.
Why does a woman with three sets of clothes need five pairs of shoes? I will never understand.
At the hotel, I suggest getting a second room. However, she wants no part of being alone. We go to a nice Greek restaurant for dinner. We have an early flight in the morning, that means an early start. Annie takes her shower first. She comes out wrapped in towels, I take my shower next. I come out in my boxers to find her in bed wearing her bra, panties, and the button-down dress shirt that I wore today.
Annie states, “This is more comfortable than what we bought, and I like to smell you. Now get in bed, wrap your arms around me, and make me feel safe.”
Laying there, she looks sexy. She’s cleaned up nicely, her nice big tits are filling her bra, her blonde hair is much shorter from having it cut, although it’s styled now, her eyes are a deep blue, narrow jaw, a serious look on her face, and a smile that stops cars. She looks good enough to fuck if she wasn’t my sister. I can only imagine what is going through her head after so many years. I turn off the lights, get in bed, wrap her in my arms, and we both fall asleep quickly.
On the plane the following day we are in first class, enjoying a mimosa, the questions finally come rapid fire and it went like this: Where do I live? Near Orlando. Where do I work? Self-employed but I do a lot of projects for NASA. How did I get my money? I wrote smartphone games and made millions. How long can she stay? Forever. Do I have a girlfriend? No. Why not? Late nights searching side streets don’t reveal many women I want. Why did I go looking for her? Our parents are assholes, and I love my sister. Do I want a girlfriend or boyfriend? Girlfriend. How far can she go on the credit card? Keep it under eight figures. Was it worth the effort to find her? Yes. Why?
Why? Why did I feel the need to find her and spend all that effort?
After a pause, I am unsure and reply, “I don’t know. I always thought there was more to you than a pretty face. I thought mom and dad were stupid for not trying harder to help you. I hated them for that. I looked up to you, you were my older sister. You were the one person that challenged me mentally. I felt the need to make sure you got a fair shot at life. We have much to do when we get home.”
We arrive at the Orlando airport, get my car, and drive to NASA. I have a meeting with my boss. I go to Joe’s office, the guy I am helping, and we are at odds on how to do this project. Annie has had enough.
Annie is condescending, “Joe, are you listening to him? Charlie’s design is simpler, easier to test, and easier to support. You’re over-engineering this. It’s not rocket science.”
Actually, in this case, it is rocket science. She then proceeds to show him five flaws with his idea.
Joe is flustered, “Ok, I give up. By the way, who do you work for?”
A confident Annie responds, “In less than 90 minutes, NASA, after you take me to HR.”
Joe is dubious, “What will you be doing?”
Annie is confident, “What’s the most challenging job they have?”
Joe gives up. We go up to HR, Annie takes several tests, she only needed twenty minutes to take four, one-hour tests. A group of people came back later, each with an offer. She starts Monday doing something important. No SSN (social security number, an American national ID number) so she is a contractor. She’ll have to get one. We have a nice lunch at an outside café then go to the gym. Tim is the owner; we are good friends.
I sign Annie up and get her Seth, their best trainer, to work with her. Naturally, she objects, I insist, she relents. I notice that at the gym, she doesn’t hold my hand. When we get home, I get her a family doctor, gynecologist, dentist, and psych appointments for Friday. We go out for a nice dinner again and then home. Unload the luggage, get her settled into the guest bedroom. She sleeps in my shirt and bed again. So much for well-laid plans. I must admit, it does feel nice to have a woman holding me at night and pressing her large breasts into me, even if it is all innocent.
I only have cereal for breakfast. I take her out and teach her to drive. Fifteen minutes later, she is an expert. We go to the DMV to get a license, no SSN, no birth certificate, no license. I throw lawyers at the issue, let them fix it. We get her a bank account but can’t because she doesn’t exist. No SSN. I get a joint account for us if I am primary, she is OK. They see her as a child in the system because of no SSN. I laugh at that. My older sister is in the system as my child. Nice system.
We buy work-out clothes, work clothes, and then go to the gym. She is stunning in yoga pants. Seth is a pro, she isn’t in shape, but he pushes her harder şirinevler escort than she would have on her own. We get home, and the faucet turns on. Annie is crying hard on the couch. I am at a loss, what did I do wrong?
Annie, as she is crying, “I am so embarrassed. I don’t have Social Security or a birth certificate. Did you see those women in the gym? I am fat, ugly, and worthless. And dammit, you were right about having a trainer too!”
I sit down next to Annie and hold her in my arms.
I whisper in her ear, “I think you are one of the most beautiful women I know. In six months, no man will say no to you. Your hair is a gorgeous golden blond, it’s nicely styled, your eyes need no makeup, you are beautiful without it, your breasts are large and perky, your legs in those yoga pants go on forever, but it’s your smile that has always captivated me. I like you for just being you.”
Her tears stop.
I suggest, “How about I make some dinner now?”
She watches me make dinner. That night, again in my shirt, she sleeps in my bed, but this time she places my hands on her breasts. I politely try to move them like she made a mistake, but it is no mistake. She forces my hands to stay there, I comply. I certainly don’t mind.
Annie whispers, “It makes me feel like a desirable woman.”
The dentist has a cancellation, so we do the dentist on Thursday morning, she got a good cleaning. We then go to the gym. Seth pushes her hard again, he is worth every penny. I flirt with some of the beautiful women there but lose interest when all they talk about is my body.
On the way home I had to answer to the flirting. Typical self-doubt. Is she holding me back? Why didn’t I pick one? I sure hope that psych doc can help. At night my hands go straight to her breasts and play with them a tiny bit. It’s sick of me to do this, but damn, I sure love her tits, and she seems to like it as well.
Chapter 4 – Meeting Laura
Friday, the doc is happy with her progress, gynecologist says plumbing is all right, we drive to the psych doc, she wants to see both of us. We walk in to see Laura. She is stunning. Easily 6′ tall, long black hair, perfectly straight, she is thin as a rail, must work out a lot. She has a lab coat on but a short skirt underneath and a tight white blouse.
She has enormous perky breasts, almost pointing at me. She has deep green eyes on bright white skin, no tanning for this lady. No rings on the finger. She has the perfect smile and exudes friendliness. I am sure most men stare at her rack, it is awe-inspiring, but her eyes captivate me. I see her checking me out.
She grabs my hand, “Hello, Charlie, you called about your sister.”
As I stare at her eyes, I tell our story.
Laura clinically states, “You have a remarkable story, but why are you here? What can I do for you?”
I explain, “Annie didn’t experience high school, dating, sex, love, friendships, confrontation, all the things that we have experienced as we grew up. I want someone that she can talk to, that can understand her feelings, that might be willing to explain things.
“She just got a job today at NASA. She’s never had a job, never worked with others, never been bullied. I’m not equipped to deal with all of this. My experience with women is my mom nagging my sister, my sister taking abuse, and four girlfriends for screwing.”
I continue lovingly, “She needs more than just me. She deserves better than me. She is special.”
Laura confidently says, “I see your point, and I can help. However, it sounds like you have issues as well. You missed your childhood and didn’t have friends. You and I need to meet as well. You are better than you think. Most guys stare at my tits and can’t look at me. You could have abused your sister or ignored her. You see her beauty that she doesn’t yet. You mean a lot to her. Are you sleeping together yet?”
Oh shit, what do I say? Annie solves that problem.
Annie confidently says, “Yes.”
My eyes go to the floor, my cheeks blush. How embarrassing.
Laura is intrigued, “Are you fucking?”
WHAT THE FUCK! How can she possibly ask that?
Annie is still confident, “No, but I make him sleep with his hands on my breasts. He likes it.”
That’s it, I am going to hell.
Laura says seductively, “Annie, I want you to take off your clothes.”
Annie straight out asks, “Why? That isn’t standard practice for these types of issues.”
Laura is giddy, “No, it isn’t. I am testing your self-esteem, your promiscuity, your sense of right and wrong. Had you stripped without blushing I would have known you fucked your brother. He is loyal, saved your life, is wealthy, and way too cute for a young man. Why haven’t you fucked him?”
Annie is no longer confident, she seems worried, “I am too fat and ugly, I’m not worthy yet.”
Laura purrs, “Oooooh, you two are going to be interesting. Every Friday, Charlie 3:00 and Annie 4:00. I can help both of you.”
Chapter 5 – Dinner
It has been six months since the day I found Annie. Work is good for her, it fills many holes in her life, it keeps her busy and tests her mentally. Laura has been awesome for both of us, but she is trying to get both of us to be more sexually active, “to be human,” as she calls it.
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