Offline/Get dressed and get some food
"Okay, okay, I'll get up," you huff and moan as you rise to find pants, accepting that you aren't liable to get back to sleep after such a rude awakening, but put in a slightly better mood by Emma's acquiescence. "But you don't have to come out here, you know. We can see when it's light outside."
"Just worried you'd sleep in, and I think I was right. You wouldn't want to miss breakfast, would you?"
"For sleep? Yes."
Dad chuckles and shakes his head. Seeing you already getting dressed, he takes the two steps required to retrieve Emma's mostly empty bag from beside your bunk and passes it to her. "Here you are sweetie. Well you have to think of your sister, too. What if she wants breakfast?"
"I don't really like breakfast," she shares, pulling a plain white tank top out of her bag. There can't be much in there with how much she pulled out last night.
"Oh geez... you two! Well you can't fault me for trying to get you fed!"
You watch a little too long as your topless little sis slips her tank over her head and down her torso to finally cover the petite pale pink nipples you've been darting your eyes past this whole time. You know she's still a kid but she's also almost 10 and it feels weird seeing her topless now, particularly since it reminds you of her "mounting" you last night, so you almost feel relieved to see her cover herself, no longer needing to worry about looking away. Then, just as you're about to pull on a shirt, you watch your sister push her panties off of her square hips and down her legs.
Your heart jumping into your throat, you quickly pull your shirt onto your head to shield your eyes. Emma does not have enough shame. You'd think she would with how overbearing mom can be at times, but if mom can't change her then nothing will. On a conceptual level you know that changing in front of family shouldn't be a big deal but, family or not, you know you'd never just whip your dick out in front of other people.
Intentionally "struggling" for a while, with dad even commenting whether you're okay, you face away from your sister before you dare finish pulling your shirt on. You didn't successfully look away last night, but you can try to do better today. Though, if you're being honest, having dad standing within arms reach is a solid motivator to not get caught looking at bits you shouldn't be
After fiddling with your sleeping bag for a moment, you dare to glance behind you and spot your sibling wearing bright orange shorts below her form-hugging white tank top. That should make you feel better, even proud of yourself for averting your gaze, and it does a little. But it kinda makes you frustrated, too. You could have checked out her cooch guilt free. It'd be her fault for changing like that. Em didn't even attempt to be modest. Instead, you chose not to... So why is not looking making you feel guilty? Because it's a mystery now? Because you wanted to that bad?
It doesn't make much sense until you realize, now that she's dressed, you really are staring at her. Maybe that's the guilt you're feeling, checking her out when there's nothing to see. And yet you still manage to make out two tiny bumps telegraphing her nipples through her top. But you can't help that. You just notice these things lately.
Breakfast is fine. It sure wasn't worth getting woken up for. It's even worse that you get roped into cleaning up by some of your aunts while your cousins get to play. Not that you want to play with them. They're all younger than you and running around like idiots. But of course mom expects you to.
Forced to deal with a grumpy start to this vacation you wander around for a while, mad at nobody and teeming with frustration, spitefully avoiding having fun while not sure what else to do with yourself. A couple hours go by before you feel you've made enough of an effort to be visible and satisfy your mom's requests for fraternization (or at least make her happy to see you leave) and you skitter back out to your cabin.
You breathe a huge sigh of relief once you're there. Finally, you can get some privacy. That's all you wanted for this whole vacation; to not have to deal with other people. To do what you want to do.
What that is is not immediately obvious though. You've spent so much time brooding that you're only sure about what you don't want rather than what you do.
Pacing around the cabin to get more familiar with the forest, you kick through the tall grass and flowers in the open field behind the cabin and scale some of the logs and deadwood scattered about. Your thoughts are mostly vacant, calming down and taking things in, but there are a few things you keep coming back to. Those thoughts eventually lead you inside the cabin.
You grab your sketchbook and sit down to start doodling, scratching out nothing in particular until you lean up against the wall. When you do you notice a pair of your sister's panties resting beside your pillow thanks to her exploded bag. It's weird to think her underwear was right next to your face all night.
Unsure why you're leering at them from a distance when your sister isn't even here, you pick them up and play with them for a while, stretching the thin material and examining the finer details of the stitching. It takes you a while to admit it to yourself, but your sudden interest in girl's undergarments is a direct result of your sister having been inside of a pair just like these while on top of you last night.
Balling the panties up, you throw them away as another pang of guilt hits you. This is stupid! It's so dumb that your dumb brain won't let you stop thinking about your dumb sister.
You start to sketch again with a distracting chub in your pants which leads you to detail a small pair of panties on the page, ones very much like what your sister was wearing. It feels cathartic at first, like by putting it down on the page you can get it out of your mind. So you keep going, mindlessly sketching, and soon find a faceless girl penciled on your pad, coincidentally with your sister's hair, donning only those panties. The ones she slept beside you in. The ones she sat on top of you in...
Then, further guided by your dick, you draw another girl wearing those same panties in a more animated pose, her stance wide and her arms up. But your chub makes you erase her panties so you can relocate them between the girls' knees. You then stare at the blank crotch of this "random" girl and try to imagine what your sister's pussy looks like. Obviously you know what "a" pussy looks like, but not hers specifically. Once again you wish you had looked this morning...
"Justice!"
"WHAT!?" you yelp, throwing your pad aside, your stomach jumping into your throat. Emma and Asha swung the door to the cabin open to surprise you. You just about die. They just giggle at your panicked expression.
Although technically you were doing something perfectly innocent - sketching and doodling - what you were sketching is another matter entirely, and not something you would want either of them to see.
Dad is right behind them, leading them out here to get you (because they're too clueless to follow a straight path by themselves apparently). They came out to drag you back to camp for some "family activity" that "isn't optional". What the hell, dad? You're going to be grumpy all day at this rate. You can't believe they didn't even knock. You could have been jerking off for all they knew.
"C'mon, son," waves your dad from the doorway. "People are waiting!"