Now facing Mia again, thankfully with her rump encased in that wet-shimmer pair of booty shorts, my eyes were instinctively drawn up the length of my sister's monumental torso. Her uniform's shirt, probably now at least several sizes too small but unchanged by choice since her growth, looked practically sewn around her, almost like a superhero suit. It's a wonder she could have any range of motion on the volleyball court in something so restrictive, though she makes it work with ruthless effect, regardless of physics. Her bust, I have to admit, is cuddled so tight in that shirt, its contours hugged just as snug as her ass in those shorts, that it magnetizes gazes toward it, including mine, no matter how much I want to look away. It's just a reflex when a specimen of such superhuman proportion is standing before me. Crude as it is to realize, it's true; those melons of hers really have developed over the course of this growth. Before, Mia's breasts were average-sized at best, if not below, which I only know because she endlessly complained about it to the family. Those wishes have apparently been granted, because her chest has been inflating a little faster in proportion to the rest of her, leaving my sister with a pair of perfectly rounded, perky, and firm boobs that I lamentably know better than most due to all the bear-hugs Mia forces me into.
"My eyes are up here, Hal," she said with a cruel smirk. Using two fingers, she pointed between her own pupils and mine, then proceeded to prod me in the cheeks with those same digits.
"Oh... s-sorry, Mia, I wasn't... um, honestly, I wasn't trying to-" I was still too dizzy from the smell to get my bearings, and in fact just now noticed my face was frozen in a furrowed grimace, like I'd just sucked a whole lemon dry. Even with practice, it's impossible not to make a face in Mia's funky aura.
"Stop blubbering and get a move-on, or we'll be late for my game. And you know how I feel about people making me late," Mia insisted. I certainly did. She grabbed me by the scruff of my shirt and walked us both toward the door, practically heaving me just on the strength of that one arm alone. "Besides, nobody could blame you for sneaking a peek. I get that same look a hundred times a day at school. Just... you know... it's not usually my dorky little baby brother doing the looking."
We all piled into the car. The drive to my sister's school isn't long, but it sure feels like it most of the time, as is probably the case with most torture chambers. My parents sat in front, while I was trapped as usual in the back with Mia. Since her huge frame takes up more volume each time we have to cram inside, I was relegated to being squeezed against the window, my arms folded over my crotch, while Mia let her powerful gams lay out wide. It was bad enough to have no space to move, with my sister's leggy shape commanding so much of it like the car seat was her own personal throne. However, I also knew very well what that lazy stance of hers entailed, creating a wide V-shape with her thighs and, by extension, letting her ass cheeks spread and the crack separate, inviting a fresh tear-gassing courtesy of Mia cutting the cheese.
Maybe noticing this omen too, my mother worked on rolling down the car windows as we drove, but Mia was quick on the draw.
"Don't open the windows, Mom. It's too cold out. And I need to stay warm and loose for the game. You want me to do well, right?" she said, both guilt-tripping and stopping just short of threatening.
"You're... right, sweetie. How silly of me," our mom sighed, and reticently sealed us back inside this death-trap of a car. Longingly, I leaned toward the shrinking crack in the window and gulped as much fresh air as I could before the chance was gone. Then I sat still, holding my breath, and awaited what little stagnant oxygen remained to be replaced with fetid, pithy eruptions from Mia's back door.
Inexplicably, my sister chose to sweat us out using less-vocal farts than normal, perhaps choosing to save the real atomic bombs for later, when she'd have a larger audience to sample her fecal-tinted wares. At first the aroma arrived as a curious, creeping whiff, the kind that might suddenly make you think something is rotting in the fridge. But eventually, denial wouldn't work, and no matter which way we turned our heads or how slowly we breathed, the mist filtered into our abused lips and nostrils. Listening intently to my sister's ever-babbling stomach, if only for my own survival needs, I noticed the pauses that immediately preceded the passage of air bubbles through her sphincter. Most of them only came out as a hiss, though, which was perhaps more merciful than a single volcanic spray of her gas, but eventually just as potent, since Mia's expert control of her hole could release a quiet yet unbroken jetstream of rotten, semi-moist backdraft over whole minutes. You'd think that gradual venting instead of rapidfire blurting would help us get used to Mia's grody essence and therefore handle it better, but you'd be wrong.
Before we were even halfway to the destination, my seven-foot-eight leviathan little sister had filled the car to capacity with her butt-flavored pestilential ozone. No corner of the space was safe. I bet even if my parents and I stuck our mouths against the AC vents and gasped for life, that precious clean air would've been spoiled by the warm, stale fumes before it could ever soothe our noses and throats. My dad reached for the window crank just once, but seeing the smirking death-glare he received from Mia was enough to make him swallow his stink-induced pains and continue stewing in the fart-flooded hot box. The smell, still being delivered via long, near-silent wisps from Mia's caboose, was developing into something deeper and nastier than the initial nose-tickle hint. I could detect the repulsive identities of several fat-rich foods I'd personally served to my sister to fuel her athletic development and, likely most of all, her agitated system. Life with my growing sister had so thoroughly altered my smell-related memory banks, I was beginning to associate food scents first with their loathsome discharge in the air after going through Mia's system rather than before.