Showering With Jennifer
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The only thing I knew
about Descartes and
Nietzsche, by the time I was sixteen, was that they were philosophers.
What I mean is I'm not a philosopher,
myself. I've never had deep thoughts
about what life is all about or any of that stuff.
And I never thought about fate or karma or
any of a number of other platforms that try to help one come to grips
things that happen in life that seem to make no sense.
At least not until I was
I have since learned a
word for what happened to
my sister and me. That word is
'serendipity' but I had never heard of it back then.
I don't know if Jennifer had ever heard of it
then or not. And that's a good example
of how much things have changed for me.
Back then, if I'd learned a new word, it would never have even
to me to ask her if she knew what it meant.
Now I would.
Now we share everything with each other.
Even things we aren't supposed
I think you know what I
mean already. I chose a place to tell our
specializes in, shall we say, stories about things sexual.
It was the accident - the serendipity - of
finding that site that emboldened me enough to actually tell our story
all. This is
not to say nobody else in the world knows about us.
That's not true, as you'll find out. And
really, as Jennifer reminded me
pretty regularly while I wrote this, it isn't anybody else's business
are closer as siblings than most people in the world would approve of.
But that's the point,
actually. The point is that in a world
seems to be so little love, what there is should be celebrated instead
reviled. Oh, I get it that incestuous
pairings in the past have created terrible and sad situations in terms
defects. The record is perfectly clear
in a murky kind of way about that. What
I mean by "murky" is there are no scholarly papers out there on why
these defects happen in some cases of incest and don't in others.
There are theories galore, but no scientific
studies to back them up. To me, that is
like saying "There's this incredible, mystifying behavior that can both
create or destroy life but why that happens is something we're not
Now maybe you think I'm
getting worked up about
something that really makes very little difference in the grand scheme
things. After all, incest is an
aberration in human life, right? Very
few people are involved in that behavior, right? At
least that we know about. We don't need
to talk about that perversion, right?
It isn't common. Incest only
touches a fraction of a fraction of a given population.
Well ... let's not even take up the discussion about Adam and Eve, or Noah and his minescule family, who
repopulated the Earth after the flood. We'll pretend that we're not all the product of incest. At least if you ascribe to any number of
religions that all pose an original pair that populated the Earth. But maybe you don't. Maybe you think all manner of different
humans evolved all at the same time, from different organisms. If that's the way you think, we can go with the roughly 11,000 humans who survived the ice age (scattered hither and yon in tiny groups) and then repopulated the Earth. They had no choice but to inbreed to survive.
I know I said I wasn't a
philosopher, and a lot
of that up above looks and sounds like philosophical ramblings, but
what can I
say? Stuff happened and I couldn't help
but think about it and wonder why it happened.
I know how it happened ... sort of ... at least now in
retrospect, but I sure had no idea what was going on while it
What all this rambling is
supposed to be getting
to is that maybe it happened to you, too.
I have a sneaking suspicion that what happened between Jennifer
has happened to a lot more people than anybody would admit.
I use the words "would admit"
intentionally, because of another sexual behavior that seems to happen
but which very few people admit they engage in.
Can you guess what it is?
Think back on that.
If you masturbate (and everybody says
everybody does) then how many people have you admitted that to?
I'm not talking about how many people know
you do it, or believe you do it. I'm
talking about you formally announcing, "You know what?
I masturbate frequently. Do you?"
Everybody allegedly does
it, but nobody admits it
to anyone but maybe one or two very close friends.
I'll just tell you what happened.
Maybe you'll be able to explain it to me.
I'll start off by
admitting to the whole world
that I masturbate, and that I masturbated
frequently before all this happened. I
started when I was roughly twelve and I learned to do it completely by
accident. I was in the shower and I was
washing my penis, which was either already hard, or got that way while
washing it. I don't remember.
That wasn't a new thing, having an erection,
I mean. It had been getting hard for a
long time. But this was the first time I
washed it with the now familiar stroking grip that every guy knows all
Or so I hear.
Anyway, it felt good so I
just kept doing
it. Then it felt great and I
wouldn't have stopped even if somebody pounded on the door and told me
up. Nobody did, though, and suddenly
there was this pain in my penis that was scary as hell, but still felt
fantastic, and I spurted. Just like
that. I knew squat about sex back
then. I knew all the words associated
with it, particularly the dirty words one never uttered in the hearing
adult, but that's kind of like all those kids in the spelling bee who
anything, but have no idea what it really means.
After all, they always ask for the
definition ... right?
By the time I was sixteen
I was an expert at
masturbation. I had my stash of
pictures, most of them torn from girly mags I found in the trash.
I found the first one by accident, in a
dumpster. I was a confirmed dumpster
diver after that. People throw away the
coolest stuff, as it turns out. But
never mind that. I was going to tell you
how 'it' started, between my sister and me.
It started when I had to
pee really bad and it
was either go outside in the back yard, and hope that Mrs. Applebee
looking out her window, or go in the bathroom, where my sister,
taking a shower. Maybe your neighbor
doesn't stare out the window at your house, but Mrs. Applebee seemed to.
She was always "just mentioning"
things to my parents about stuff I did in the back yard.
Like when I shot a bird with my BB gun, or
when Roy Burke and I were throwing rocks at each other (we weren't
trying to score a hit), or when I accidentally ran the mower into my
flower garden. There were a bunch of
times she saw things and "bumped into" one of my parents and
"just mentioned" what she'd seen, and I knew she'd have a conniption
fit if I took a leak in the back yard.
It was almost bedtime, but it was also summer, and it stayed
outside pretty late. Plus my dad wired in one of those motion sensor
floodlights on the back wall of the house and didn't bother to put a
the thing. It would come on if I went
out there and that was sure to draw Mrs. Applebee's attention.
So I opened the door to
the bathroom and went in
all ninja-like. Dad had renovated the
shower and the new one had a frosted door so I was hoping Jennifer
able to see me. I had it all planned
out. I was going to sit down on the
toilet so things wouldn't splash and make noise. When
I was finished I'd put the lid down so
she wouldn't see the tint in the water. I wasn't going to flush, of
since that would be a dead giveaway. Besides, we use way too much water
flush and it's not like my pee was going to sit there all day. Somebody
would use it.
Now all this was
unplanned, which is why it was a
complete accident that, as I sat there feeling huge relief, I was
shower stall. I could see Jennifer's
form through that frosted glass. Just her overall form, a kind of
blob that was vaguely humanoid in shape.
But I knew what was making that shape, so it wasn't hard to
could sort of, kind of, almost see her breasts when she raised her arms
something on top of her head.
And as my bladder got
empty, my dick got hard.
Now I have to tell you
this was a complete
surprise. Jennifer was my younger,
bratty sister. True, she was only a year younger, and true she got
in school, whereas C was my favorite letter.
And there was nothing exactly wrong with her, other than the
was a pest and always thought she should be able to do whatever I got
do. But I'd never even thought about
getting a boner because of her.
Sure I'd seen her running
around in her bra and
panties, or maybe the short robe she wore sometimes that showed her
up to her butt, but she was ... Jennifer.
She was my sister. And she wasn't
a raving beauty or anything. She had
brown hair and brown eyes and wore glasses.
She had contacts, but her allergies made them itch a lot so she
wore them about half the time. She had
boobs, but they weren't huge or anything.
She had a "boyfriend" every so often, but she was too
hard-headed and independent to let a boy tell her what to do so those
relationships always kind of faded to black sooner or later.
My point is I'd never
thought of Jennifer as a
sexual being before. But seeing her
vague, naked form behind that frosted glass, it was impossible not to
imagine what she might look like if I opened that door.
Suffice to say I was
confused that I got a boner
while looking at her amorphous form. And
a little weirded out, to be honest.
I didn't just sit there
and think about all this,
by the way. I did what needed to be done
and, pulling my pants back up as I stood, to get my boner covered, I
as ninja-like as I had snuck in.
Things stayed confusing
when I got back to my
bedroom. When I got undressed that boner
was still there, and it was throbbing.
Always before I'd have happily jerked off and then read until I
sleepy. But this time I couldn't get
Jennifer's cloudy form out of my mind. I
needed to jerk off, to get some relief, but I knew if I did, I'd keep
about my sister and that would be just too weird.
I tried to read, but that
damn boner wouldn't
I got out my pictures and
locked the door. My
mother was a fan of breezing in to give good night kisses on foreheads
didn't know I abused myself. Nobody did.
How could they? I'd never admitted it to
Anyway, Miss September
saved the day because she
was looking me right in the eye with that "You can have me if you want
me" look that could get me to spurt within sixty seconds if I really
wanted to hurry things along. And my
eyes flitted from her eyes to her tits to her puffy pussy lips and I
then I was able to read until I got sleepy.
Miss September, however,
could not distract me
the next morning when I went down to breakfast and Jennifer was sitting
reading the comics in the morning paper.
She was dressed like normal, in a tank top and shorts.
She was barefoot and her hair was pulled back
in a ponytail. And damned if she didn't
look ... I don't know ... interesting?
She looked up at me and
her eyebrows formed a
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing," I said.
"You're staring at me,"
"Stop staring at your
mother said, automatically. She was
fussing with something in the skillet on the stove.
"I wasn't staring at
"Yes ... you were," said
But the strangest thing
was that she had this
little smile on her face as she said it.
"I'll stop," I said,
knowing this was
the only way to get both of them off my case.
I got a bowl and a box of cereal from the cupboard, not wanting to wait
for the more involved process of bacon and eggs. I
was going to go shoot hoops with Dennis
"I'm cooking, here,"
"I love you," I said.
Those are the magic words, especially when it
comes to moms. "But I'm late to
shoot hoops over at Dennis's house."
"How can you be late to
asked Jennifer. "It's just shooting
I wanted to stick my
tongue out at her, but I was
sixteen and you can't get away with that much after you're ten, so I
inhaled my cereal (as my mother would have put it) and hurried out the
I had a whole day planned
of not thinking about
my naked sister behind a shower door, and it would have come off that
had it not been Dennis Green I had decided to spend the day with.
He had a thing for my sister. He'd
had it since seventh grade, but he was
too chicken to ask her out. He was too
chicken to even talk to her, for that matter.
But he'd talk to me about her.
He was fond of saying, "She's so hot. It must drive you crazy,
living with her." He was of the
opinion that, since he thought she was a babe, all other males must
was a babe, too, including her brother.
For years I'd happily
pointed out why no man on
the planet should be interested in Jennifer Chalmers, but all
bounced off him like water off a duck, so I'd given up a year or so
And of course, it was on
this particular day
that, as we played H.O.R.S.E, Dennis asked me if I'd ever seen Jennifer
There was a conversation
about that, but you
don't want to hear about that. All you
need to know is that, by the time I got home, all I could think about
whether Jennifer would take another shower that night.
Of course I knew she
would. Jennifer took a shower every night.
If she got sweaty she took one during the
day, too. Jennifer and sweat did not get
along. I, on the other hand, might go
two or three days between showers. I
didn't have a girlfriend, but I didn't associate those two facts as
anything to do with each other.
So, of course, she did
take a shower.
And, of course I had to
decide what to do.
I did not ninja in to get
a peek, if that's what
you're thinking. But I knew she was in
there, and I knew she was naked, and I knew what it would look like if
go in there for a peek.
And that's all it took to
give me another boner.
Even Miss September
couldn't do the trick that
night. I went through the whole
calendar, or at least the months I had, and none of them could keep me
imagining what my sister looked like behind that stupid door.
And that was the first
night I just gave up and
thought about Jennifer, rubbing her hands all over her slippery body
her breasts ... between her legs ... as she got all squeaky clean.
It was the first night
that I suddenly wondered
if she did, in the shower, the same thing I did, in the shower.
Namely ... masturbate.
So it was the first night
that I jerked off while
thinking about my sister.
It was five days before I
just couldn't take it
anymore. You do stupid things when
you're confused, like making sure you don't go to the bathroom so
you'll have a
"legitimate" excuse to ninja in and use the john while your sister is
taking a shower. You're not planning on
getting caught, but you make sure you have a valid excuse, just in case.
And I changed into the cotton running
I sleep in every night, before I spied on my sister.
I reasoned that I could pull them up faster
than my regular pants. I knew I was
going to have a boner. At least I was
smart enough not to even think about beating off while I sat
there. I figured the shorts would come up
said boner quickly and efficiently as I ninjaed back out of the
I know this sounds
stupid, particularly because I
already mentioned that all you could see was the vague outline of a
person behind the glass. I think maybe
it was like some kind of drug. I tried
it once, by accident, and it hooked me right away.
So every so often I needed a fix, to keep me
That really does sound
it? But it's all I got.
So I did it.
I waited until she went in, and then stood by the door until the
had run long enough that I knew she'd be inside the shower.
The door creaked as I opened it. I hadn't
noticed that the last time. I made a
mental note to oil the hinges.
See how bad things were
already?! I'd already turned into a
I tiptoed over to the
toilet and shoved my shorts
down. I already had a hardon and I had
to bend it to get it into the space between my thighs and the toilet
Then I couldn't go.
If you're a guy, you know how that
works. Or doesn't work.
If you have a great boner, you can't piss
through it. I don't know why.
It's just the way things are.
So there I was, my
bladder screaming, and me
unable to get a stream going. And all the
while I'm staring at the shower door, where Jennifer is soaping herself
Now, if you're a guy,
then you know the only way
to coax piss out of a boner is to stroke it a little bit.
For you ladies who haven't fled screaming
already, I'll educate you. I'm not
talking about a death grip, or choking the chicken, here.
What you do is take your thumb and two
fingertips and you just tease the shaft a little, kind of stroking it
might pet a cat or something. It's sort
of like you're milking your cock, except it's nothing like milking a
cow. Anyway, that's what works.
Somehow it relaxes things, at least for me,
and within a minute I got things moving.
Of course I was in a mild
panic while all this
was going on, so I missed not hitting the water, at least at first.
I looked down as I bent my cock to one side
and the noise stopped. Then I looked
back up at the shower door, to see if I was busted.
I wasn't, or at least she didn't say
anything, but she was standing still. It
looked like her hand was in front of her, maybe covering her pussy?
But she wasn't saying anything and her other
hand was on the wall of the shower, and not covering her breasts.
So then, suddenly, that question about
whether she did in the shower what I did in the shower popped back in
I squinted, trying to see
better, and it looked
like her hand was moving. Was it moving
between her legs?
I suddenly realized I'd
been in there for a lot
longer than planned. In fact, I wasn't
sure just how long I'd been in there. It
could have been as much as three or four minutes, and there isn't a guy
world who needs three or four minutes to piss.
Maybe to piss and then wash up and dry his hands and comb his
look at how handsome he is in the mirror, but not just to take a leak.
Which is why I stood up
meaning I didn't have a boner management plan in place, which meant my
rod waved in the air in front of me like Harry Potter's wand doing an
unlocking spell. Then I had to bend over
to pull up my shorts, and I guess all that getting up fast and then
over and getting up fast again caused me to get light-headed, because I
staggered to the door and exited in a decidedly un-ninja fashion.
Five minutes later I was
lying in bed with my
shorts down to my thighs, beating off in the dark and imagining my
masturbating in the shower.
It bothered me.
Maybe that sounds dumb, but it did.
And the reason it bothered me was because when I came, imagining
Jennifer with a finger plugged into her pussy, it was a really hard,
enjoyable cum. Really enjoyable.
It was so enjoyable, in fact, that it kind of convinced me I
a pervert. I didn't know how I'd become
a pervert, but the fact was unavoidable as I found myself gripping
softening penis and discovered that the sock I'd planned to shoot on
even come close to being up to the task.
I got up and cleaned up
the stripe of cum on my
floor, and tried to sop up what had gotten on the bedspread.
I kept imagining my mother coming in the door
and finding me cleaning up cum spots. I
hadn't locked the door because I had the lights out.
Basically I was a mess.
I suddenly had the hots for my sister, or at
least for my sister when she was in the shower.
The rest of the time she was the same old Jennifer, except that
noticed the bulge of her breasts, and imagined what was packed into her
shorts. Of course I couldn't look her in
the eyes. If I did, she'd know instantly
that her pervy brother was thinking forbidden thoughts.
But I didn't think she'd notice. We
tried to have as little to do with each
other as possible, usually.
I felt so bad that I
managed to wait an entire
week before I just had to see that vague image again.
It was a repeat of the
previous time, though
things went much better, assuming you can call sneaking in to peek at
sister in the shower as being any kind of okay.
But this time I was prepared for everything.
Again I'd refrained from going to the john so
I actually had to go in there. I
knew I'd have to get the stream going, so I teased my cock right away.
This time I kept an eye on the shower door
while I did it, and this time it was aimed at the porcelain instead of
water when something started happening.
I sat there, kind of hunched over, watching her indistinct,
form move around in the shower. I could
see she was washing her breasts. She
washed them a long time and it was impossible not to imagine her doing
purposes other than getting them clean.
I was still rock hard
when I finished peeing, and
I honestly think it was unconscious that I kind of teased my cock some
more. I mean I always milked it to get
the last drops of pee out, whether it was hard or soft, but I milked it
more than was necessary. Anyway, I
suddenly realized I was almost jerking off, watching her hands slide
her chest like that. That kind of
freaked me out. I mean it was one thing
to lie on my bed and imagine seeing her, but it seemed like another
actually stare at her vague image while I did that.
So I got up and ninjaed
back out of the
bathroom. I didn't even make it to my
bed before I was beating my meat like it owed me money and couldn't pay.
I came so fast I wasn't prepared. I didn't
have anything to shoot my spooge into. I
gave about half a second to thinking about just cumming in my free
that seemed gross, so I just squeezed it hard when I felt it coming.
you ever done that? It's crazy!
First it was painful. I
know cumming is always painful ... in a
happy kind of way ... but this was over the top. It
didn't stop my orgasm. I mean I still had
one, but without the soothing part. It
was intense. It's hard to come up with a
description of how it felt, but it wasn't on the bad side of things at
all. I've done it a couple of times since
just because it feels so different. Good different.
Yeah, I know, it's crazy.
But the whole situation was crazy.
And it was making me a little crazy, too.
Which is why, the next
time I peeked at her, I
just sort of ... well ... jerked off while I did it.
It started weird.
What I mean is that Jennifer and I were watching America's Got
the family room, and when it was over, she stood up and stretched and
"I'm going to go take a shower."
That sounds pretty normal, except Jennifer wasn't in the habit
telling me much of anything about her life. I mean why did she care
knew what she was going to do in the next ten minutes?
It was just out of character for her. Weird.
And of course I started
getting a boner almost as
soon as she said it.
"Okay," I said, like my
"Night," she said.
That was weird, too.
She never wished me good night.
Jennifer took some of her
showers in the
morning. I didn't know why.
I always took a shower when I got up, rather
than when I went to bed. Most of that was because I stayed up until I
sleepy, and a shower kind of invigorates you, you know?
So I chose to be invigorated in the morning,
rather than just before I went to bed.
But Jenn had some secret
system where she took
some showers in the morning and some at night.
And I was pretty sure she'd taken one that morning.
But I didn't stop to
think about it then. I just thought about
how I hadn't prepared,
and didn't have to pee. Of course you
can force yourself to pee just about anytime if it's been a little
you did it last, but I had gone to the john during one of the
commercials, so I
didn't really have to go. Don't ask me
why I had this twisted thought process, but I felt kind of nervous
because if I
went in there, I had no excuse at all except that I wanted to see
nakedness through that frosted glass.
I was too far gone,
though. I knew I'd sneak in there anyway,
bad about it didn't stop me from doing it.
So I gave her time to get
in the shower and did
my ninja thing, carefully opening the door and going in on tiptoes.
I had, in fact, oiled the hinges but I always
left the door a few inches open in case I had to make a fast escape.
I sat down on the toilet, like usual, but
since I didn't have to pee, all I did was stroke my cock.
Jennifer was humming a tune, but I didn't pay
any attention to what it was.
The next thing I knew I
was jerking off, staring
at Jenn's form through the glass. She'd
been washing her breasts when I got in there. The fact that she was
door didn't make an impression on me.
She usually turned and faced every direction sooner or later.
And when I started doing it ... actually
masturbating while I watched her ... both of her hands slid down and
washing between her legs. I convinced
myself she was masturbating too, and it was so hot that I only lasted
minutes. When it happened, since the
toilet bowl was right there, I just aimed it down and let it blast.
Almost instantly I
realized how stupid I'd
been. I should have choked it off.
Now there were strings of cum in the bowl,
some of it floating on the water, and I couldn't flush the stool.
All I could do was put
the lid down, which I did,
and then fled. I figured I could go back
in after she left and get rid of the evidence.
I'm telling you, it was
like a drug. And, like a closet drug
addict, I was living
two lives. In one I acted as normal
around my sister as I could. Nothing about that life was any different
before. We still barely spoke and never did anything together. She
complained about things I did, or didn't do, and I still called her a
in that life she didn't complain to our parents that there was some
white stuff in the toilet after she took a shower.
Or maybe she didn't see it. I don't
know. Maybe she just dried off and left
without lifting the lid and never saw it.
In my other life, though,
our relationship was
completely different. At least in my
mind. In that life I resisted the drug
as long as I could and then snuck in to jerk off, staring at her pale
through the glass, wondering what she'd look like if she stepped out
could actually see the details. In my
real life there was no way to assuage that desire - to see her naked.
We weren't nudists, and didn't run around the
house in nothing or even next to nothing.
That fantasy life
intruded on my real one in
other ways, too. She was popular and got
invited to parties and sleepovers all the time. She wasn't allowed to
but I knew that day would come and she'd go out with a lot of guys.
Being a guy myself, I knew what guys tried to
get away with when they got a girl alone.
Basically, I knew there
were other guys out there
who wanted to see her soft, creamy naked skin too, and her pink nipples.
Were they pink? It didn't matter. I couldn't
help but wonder how far she let them get.
Would she let any of them between her legs? Would she give up
to her prom date? That seemed to be the common plan, at least if you
It made my blood boil.
Okay, well maybe not boil.
But it did make me jealous and I realized I was
jealous, which was crazy because none of it had even happened yet.
It was just one more push to get me on my way
to the loony bin.
I knew I'd get there some
day. The loony bin, I
mean. I had fantasies about that,
too. In one of them I was at Burger King
and some guy came in with a gun and said he was robbing the place.
Then he demanded that all the girls kiss him
and he started feeling them up. In this
particular deluded imagining my sister wasn't even there, but I
anyway. I went all apeshit on the guy
and went into ninja mode and almost killed him.
I know nothing about
being a ninja, by the
way. Just what I've seen in Bruce Lee
and Jackie Chan movies. Which amounts to
nothing. But I was unhinged so that didn't bother me.
It got so bad that I
actually thought about going
to my parents and telling them about this unhealthy fixation I had on
and asking them to get me to a shrink.
And I might have done that, too, had not something even crazier
It was on a Saturday
morning. I'd slept late, after sneaking in
and jacking off again, the night before.
I'd almost gotten caught that time because she suddenly turned
off. I had been right on the cusp of
spurting, so my body didn't like the fact I just stopped and jumped up
throne. I didn't have time to put the
cover down and my shorts were only up to my thighs when I made it out
door. I just scooted before she could
open the shower door and find me there.
I had gone to bed, then
and I had a case of blue
balls because what they'd been about to get rid of got all bottled up.
Plus I was having a fantasy about how it could
have happened if she did catch me.
It was a really stupid fantasy.
In it, she opened the door and found me with my dick in my hand,
away. Her eyes got all big and she
squeaked, "Is that because of me?"
And of course she got all warm and fuzzy that her brother, her
harsh critic, actually thought she was a babe and all that.
And of course it went on from there, while I
laid back and stroked and dreamed and finally shot a quart of spunk
Yeah, I know it wasn't a
quart. A quart wouldn't even fit in a sock.
I was just using what Mrs. Tinsdale taught us
about in English last year. It's called
Anyway, I slept late the
next morning, maybe
because of the stress of almost being caught or from a doozy of a cum.
Then again, I slept late most Saturdays.
I'm a teenager after all.
Mr. Grinnel, in Social Studies, went into
this whole thing about how evolution designed things that teenagers
stay up late,
tending the fire while the hunters have sex and sleep. Then the teens
until noon the next day while the women get the day going and the men
go out to
hunt again. He didn't say anything about
the teens having sex while they stayed up late, but it makes sense to
me. If the parents are asleep in the cave
stick shelter or whatever, and the teens are all up sitting around the
campfire, what else are they going to do?
So I got up and went to
the bathroom, to get rid
of my morning wood, and I decided to get something to eat before I took
shower. Jennifer was sitting at the
kitchen table leafing through a glamour magazine. She
looked up when I came in the room.
"Hey," she said.
"Isn't that supposed to
dickhead?'" I quipped. Don't ask me
why I did that. It was stupid.
But I did and once something is out, you
can't get it back in.
"Okay," she said,
"Where's Mom?" I asked.
Some Saturdays Mom got up and made pancakes.
I had hoped this was such a Saturday.
"She and Daddy went over
to Porter's Landing
to visit some sick person," she said. "They're also going to go
shopping and go to a movie while they're there."
"Oh," I said.
"I was hoping for pancakes."
"Make them yourself," she
"I don't know how," I
"It's not rocket
science," she snorted.
You have to understand
that this was probably the
longest conversation we'd had in a long time.
We didn't just chat about stuff.
I opted not to engage in
any science at all,
rocket or otherwise, and got down a box of Fruity Pebbles.
I poured a bowl and got the milk and sat
"Gee," said Jennifer.
"Did you get enough? Why
not just eat straight out of the
This was the more normal
Jennifer. I ignored her.
Later, while I was
eating, she noted, "Don't
be such a pig when you eat. Ewww.
You're so gross."
"Takes one to know one,"
through a mouthful of colorful puffed cereal.
I know, it was lame, but it was all I could come up with on the
She sat there and ignored
me, going back to her
magazine. I ate, put the dishes in the
sink and then left.
After an aberrant
probably-one-time-only spurt of
actual conversation, we had stopped talking to each other again.
Things were back to
I said at the end of the
last chapter that
everything was back to normal again between my sister and me, but this
which, if it were in a movie, there would be tense music playing and
that everything was not back to normal.
You wouldn't know what was coming, but you'd know something was
happen that was going to scare the shit out of you.
fat, dumb, and happy, clueless in every sense of the word.
Just like the character in that movie, who
blithely goes forward to his doom while you out there in audience land
the screen, telling him not to open that door, or turn that corner or
whatever. Well ... your girlfriend yells
like that. Not you. Us
guys are too cool to talk to TV and movie
And it was exactly like
that scene in the
Hitchcock thriller where the woman is in the shower and the guy whips
curtain back and sticks a knife in her.
Okay, maybe it wasn't exactly like that.
I mean there was a glass door, not a shower curtain, and nobody
knife. Nobody even ripped the door
open. But it felt like somebody had
stuck a knife in me.
That's because while I
was taking my shower,
Jennifer walked in, put the lid to the toilet down, and sat on it,
me. She just sat there, waiting.
And I could see her clear
It turns out that water
running down the glass of
a frosted shower door does something to the optical quality of the
turns it clear. At least from the inside
out. And that meant from the first time
I snuck in to take a leak, to the last time I masturbated while staring
same door she was staring at ... my sister had seen everything I did as
there were no door there at all.
She didn't do anything.
She just sat there,
looking at me through the door. I didn't
know what to do. I'd had the beginnings
of a boner when I got in, anticipating maybe jerking off while I took
but there was no bone in the boner now.
No, sir. Not a splinter of a
bone. In fact, my dick shrank and got
like maybe an inch and a half long. I
couldn't see it, but I could feel it with the hands I'd put over it
realized how busted I was.
It was a long shower, but
it couldn't go on
endlessly. Eventually the hot water ran
out and it got really cold, so I had to turn the water off.
Still, she just sat there.
Even in a situation like
that you can't just stay
in there forever. The towels were all on
racks outside the shower. You couldn't
reach over the door to get one. You had to at least open the door and
through that opening. So that's what I
I found out she'd removed
all the towels and that
they were on the floor next to her feet.
I hadn't noticed that, before.
"Need a towel?" she
asked, her voice
full of false innocence.
"What if Mom caught you
in here?" I
asked, gruffly, playing the big brother card.
Yeah, you can imagine how
effective that was.
She tossed her head and
her lip curled into an
almost sneer as I remembered that our mother was forty miles away
day with our father.
I looked down at the
neatly stacked towels on the
floor by her right foot. I wanted to get
one, but to do that I'd have to come out where my one-inch-long penis
on full display. Even my balls were
sucking up into my body at the moment.
"What do you want?" I
Now I'll tell you I was
prepared to be
blackmailed. Well, not exactly prepared,
but you know that I mean. I probably should have said I expected her
blackmail me. I anticipated all sorts of dire threats to tell not only our
parents, but all my friends, and all her friends and maybe
at church all about how I was a pervert and a wanker who got off on
his sister in the shower. She could ruin
me pretty much forever if she wanted to.
So the sky was the limit, in terms of what she could demand.
I didn't have a lot of money.
In our little town the only jobs I could get
were temporary odd jobs. I did, in
theory, have a part time job at MacDuff's Hardware Emporium, but I only
five or six hours a week, usually sorting through the nuts and bolts
customers had mixed up, or restocking bags of feed for various animals,
farm and domesticated, stuff like that.
I envisioned, briefly, having to do all her chores until I was
What I was not prepared
for - and I now
use that word in a more appropriate fashion - was for what she said.
"I figured if you get to
watch me, then it's
only fair that I get to watch you," she said.
My brilliant rejoinder
was, "Uh ...
what?" My voice sounded like I was
"What part of 'I get to
watch you' didn't
you understand?" she asked. There
was an edge to her voice. I found out
later her expectations were for me to dance for joy.
You know ... go all pervy happy on her.
asked. I was truly mystified.
"Oh come on, Bobby," she
"You know why."
"No I don't," I insisted,
"Why do you like watching
I was rattled, which is
probably why the first
thing that popped into my head was what I said.
"Because you're a
frickin' babe," I
Now I know I said in the
beginning of all this
that Jennifer was very normal looking and all that.
But my perception of her had morphed as my
desires concerning her had morphed. She
hadn't gotten any better looking or anything.
I just perceived her differently.
That's not odd. It doesn't matter
if you're a guy or a girl, as you look around there are some people of
opposite sex who you are attracted to, and others you aren't.
But the ones you aren't attracted to are
attractive to somebody else, so it all works out in the end.
No matter what you look like, somebody out
there thinks you're hot.
I don't know whether
that's what happened to me,
or whether she just grew on me. Well,
mostly she grew on me in the area of my groin.
But how I thought about her had changed in my brain, too.
I don't know.
All I know is that's what popped into my mind, so that's what I
said. I met a professor since then who
told me that when you are asked a question, the very first thing that
your mind is the truth. It might not be
what you say, but it's probably the truth.
This announcement was met
with surprise. That's probably no surprise
to you, but it
was to her. Her mouth opened and then
closed again. I saw the blush that came
from inside her T shirt and came up her neck to her cheeks.
Her voice kind of squeaked.
I was beginning to
realize that my life might not
be over and that feeling made me so giddy that I had a hard time
rationally. I sort of nodded and I'm
quite sure I had a goofy smile on my face.
"I just thought it was
because the girls you
went out with shut you down all the time," she said.
That cut through my
giddiness like a hot knife
and the typical teenage male in me popped out.
"What?" I was injured!
"I don't get shut down!"
"Yes you do," she
snorted. "I talk
to most of them. You have a reputation, Bobby."
"Yes. Believe it or not,
all the girls
around here think you're a really nice guy."
My voice rose. I was confused
again. I wasn't nice!
I was manly! I was in
shape, and had a twinkle in my eye.
My mother said I reminded her of Tony Curtis.
I didn't know who he was, but I could tell by the way she said
it meant I was good looking.
But the fact of it was
that I did get shut
down on dates pretty regularly. The
farthest I had ever gotten was when Rhonda Tompkins let me feel her
through her shirt (and bra) but that was about it.
I got lots of kisses, had made out for hours,
in fact, but when my hands roamed, they got pushed away.
"And that you don't have
You know that sound they
use in the movies of a
phonograph needle being scraped across the grooves of one of those
records? I actually heard that in my
What do you mean I don't have a future? What kind of shit is
My sister frowned.
She didn't like curse words and made no bones
about expressing her distaste - with anybody!
Including complete strangers.
"You haven't applied to
she said. "You don't have any plans.
To all the girls around here that means you're going to stay
work at MacDuff's for the rest of your life.
They, on the other hand, have lots of plans, all of which
getting them out of this town forever."
I had no defense for that.
I did not, in fact, have any idea what I was
going to do when I graduated. The
thought of four more years of books and tests and studying just didn't
lot of appeal to me. I had given some
vague thought to the military, but even that hadn't boiled down to
which of the
services I thought I might like. There
was plenty of time for that. I had a
whole year of high school left, after all.
"Let's get back to this
business," I said.
"All that means is that most of the girls who go out with you
afraid they'll like you too much."
Now I was beyond mystified. I was
astonished! "What the heck does
that mean?" I was so agitated that
I actually stepped out of the shower.
Jennifer's eyes shot straight to my less than impressive (at the
equipment. Then, to my surprise ... and
maybe just a little disappointment ... her eyes came back up to my face.
"If a girl likes a boy
... really likes
him ... she's tempted to do things that aren't wise.
And if she does those things, then she
usually falls in love with him. So if
you don't want to fall in love with a boy, you just don't do those
things. It's simple, really.
It's actually kind of like what Mom says
about saving yourself for that special person.
You don't want to lose control and do something stupid, like
love with somebody who has no future.
That's why you never get very far on your dates."
"I have a future," I
What is it?"
There we were, back to an
area I didn't really
want to discuss. Well ... couldn't
"Never mind that.
Why are you here?"
"To watch you take a
shower," she said,
"I know that part," I
"But why do you want to watch me take a shower?"
"Didn't we already have
conversation?" she asked. "Why did you want to watch me?"
I was distracted by her
"conversation" in the sentence. That's because I realized I was
actually having an extended conversation with my sister!
And it seemed completely normal.
Well, other than the fact that I was standing
there naked and dripping. Actually, I
wasn't dripping all that much anymore. I
looked down and saw the bath mat was pretty damp. I
took a step and leaned down to get a
towel. It covered my groin when I stood
up, which I admit was intentional, but that didn't last because I
needed to dry
my hair. But this situation was strange
enough that I felt okay doing that. When
I pulled the towel off my head, Jennifer's eyes were on my dick again.
"It looks really small,"
observed. She looked up and must have
seen something in my face (what would be on your face if some
that to you?) and she amended her comment. "Compared to what it's like
when you watch me in the shower," she added. Then
she went on some more. "From what I could
see, anyway. It's harder to see through
the glass from the outside than I expected. It was easy to see it from the inside, but I thought you could see me that well, too, so I had to pretend I wasn't looking at you. It definitely looks smaller now, though."
I couldn't very well tell her it was smaller because I was scared to death, so I went with something else.
"This is weirding me
out," I said.
I'd think you were used to it after watching me all those times."
"I didn't know you could
see me," I
said. "The glass is different from
the outside. All I could see was a kind
of blurry outline."
"I know," she said. "I
that out when I came in here to watch you."
"Yeah," I said.
Neither of us said
anything and it started to get
uncomfortable. She broke the silence.
"So you got all excited
over just my blurry
I still wasn't home free
on the blackmail
front. And even though there had been
said about perverts or anything like that, I suddenly didn't want my
think I was one.
"I didn't actually mean
for that to
happen," I said. "Not at
first, anyway. It was sort of an
accident. I had to pee really bad and I
didn't think you'd notice if I slipped in and did that and then left."
"Yeah," she said. "That
first time. I saw you right away, but
you did your business and left. I was
mortified of course. I almost told Mom
about it. But I thought about it and
decided you were just being a jerk instead of a douche bag."
The distinction was lost
on me, but I didn't
particularly care for her to expound on that, so I moved on.
"The problem was that I
did see your outline
that time, and it was ... sexy?"
I got the blush again.
"And it excited me," I
"Who did you think
about?" she asked.
"What girl did you think
about when you saw
my form and got excited?"
"Nobody," I said.
"I thought about you."
"No you didn't. Guys
don't think about their
sisters like that."
"Well I did," I admitted.
thought, 'That's Jennifer in there, and she looks pretty good.'"
"Oh," she said, going
pink for a third
"But I felt bad about
it," I said. "When I got back to my
bedroom I thought
of other things."
"You mean you looked at
pictures," she said.
The only way she could
know about those was if
she'd been snooping. I got mad but she
held up a hand, facing me like a stop sign.
I found them last year. I haven't
violated your privacy since then."
And that brought us up to
"I'm sorry I violated
said. I meant it, too.
"I felt violated at
admitted. "But not anymore."
"I don't understand," I
happened," she said.
"You can say that again,"
"This whole thing has been strange. What was the strangest part to
I was being sarcastic,
but she didn't take it
that way. In fact, she just answered the
"I realized I ... um ...
kind of liked
it," she said, softly.
She'd knocked me for
another loop. Instead of thinking about
that, though, I
decided that the setting was getting on my nerves.
I suggested that she let me dry off and that
I'd get dressed, and then we could keep talking.
You don't understand how
groundbreaking this was in our
relationship. Prior to this we were
strangers who lived in the same house.
Roommates who had separate rooms, and who lived with the
landlord. When she said, "I kind of liked
it," and I thought, "I did too," our relationship underwent a
seminal change. No pun intended there, but we weren't the same
people we had been.
Oh sure, we were probably closer
than I characterize it.
You have to be when you're family. But
that closeness wasn't intentional. It was more closeness by osmosis.
the first time we were really interested in talking about
But the strangeness
wasn't over quite yet. As I dried off, I
guess I felt more
comfortable about things, because my penis quit trying to hide up
body and lengthened to its normal soft length of maybe four inches.
"How do you do that?"
genuinely curious. She was staring at my
Johnson. "There isn't a single thing on my body I can make get bigger
that." She glanced up. "Not
without Kleenexes, anyway." She
actually grinned at me! It was
"You don't need to do
that," I said,
"Oh? And why is that?"
"Cause your boobs are
just fine," I
"They're too small," she
"Not even," I replied.
were any bigger you'd look top-heavy."
"I thought boys liked big
"Some do," I admitted.
"For me, it's more important that a girl
"You usually have good
taste in girls,"
"Because I think you're
hot?" I asked,
"No, because you just
do," she said,
not smiling. "Except for Elizabeth Wright. She's a bitch."
"I agree," I said.
"And maybe Suzie Price.
She thinks she's special."
"Let's not go through the
I said. We were at the kitchen table
again by then. I was eating one of Dad's
Ding Dongs, which he bought especially for himself each week.
I'd apologize to him later.
He counted them religiously, but he never got
all that upset when somebody purloined one or two.
Jennifer was nibbling on raw baby carrots.
She'd go running later. She was in
really good shape. I lifted heavy stuff
a lot, and had bigger muscles, but she was in better shape than I was.
"I think that's why I'm
so surprised you
think I'm hot," she said.
"I didn't start out
thinking that," I
said. "It just sort of happened."
"Well, it happened pretty
said. "You were playing with your ... um
... thing ... the second or third time you came in there."
"Thing?" I grinned.
I couldn't help it.
"I'm not used to talking
about things like
this with my brother, Bobby," she said, darkly. "You were
playing with your cock the second or third time you came in
"No I wasn't.
I didn't do that until maybe the third or
"You had a boner, Bobby.
And you rubbed it."
"Yes, I got a boner," I
"And that's part of the problem. It's hard to go when you have one, and
you have to kind of encourage things to get started."
"So it only looked like
jacking off," she said, skeptically.
"Exactly," I said,
feeling like I'd
explained away something.
"What about those other
But I figured I might as well admit it.
But that was after things got all mixed up in my mind.
I thought you were ..." Suddenly
I lost my courage. One does not just toss
off accusations to
one's sister that one thinks she masturbates in the shower.
"You thought I was what?"
asked. No break for me.
"I imagined you
were ... um ...
touching yourself in the shower," I said, weakly. "I
mean I know you weren't, but it was
kind of a fantasy that you were. That's what got me so excited."
"Actually, I was touching
myself," she admitted, without a blush. "When you started coming in
there and staring at me, even though I thought you were thinking about
other girl, it made me feel ... special?
Pretty? I don't know the right word.
It just made me excited. I had to
"You do that?" I
"Of course I do," she
easily. "You do. Why would
it be so odd for me to do it, too?"
Remember that monologue
in the beginning of this
story, when I said nobody admits masturbating?
She was one of the few who would admit it, and I was one of the
she'd admit it to. But she did it so easily!
"How long have you been
doing it?" It was out of my mouth before I
it. What can I say? It was the perv in
"Since I was eleven or
said. "I didn't realize how far it
could go for a few months. At first it
just felt good, but then I learned if you go long enough it's better
"Me too!" I said,
"Mom says it's normal,"
"You told Mom?" I gasped.
"I was worried I might
she said. "Only a year before that,
Grandma told me that if I played with myself or washed too long I could
"Oh, good grief," I
"Mom said Gram's heart
was in the right
place, and that she was raised in different times."
And, just like that, we
ran out of things to talk
about. Things suddenly felt strained
again. At least to me.
There was so much left unsaid, but I had no
idea what else to say, so I just sat there and licked the chocolate
fingers where they had melted into the frosting on the Ding Dong.
Eventually she stood up.
"I'm going to go run,"
"Okay," I replied.
She got to the doorway
that led out of the
kitchen and turned.
I'm glad we had this talk."
"Me too," I said.
She went off to her room.
I had some thinking to do, and the kitchen
was as good a place as any. She came
back by the doorway ten minutes later.
Her hair was in a ponytail and she had on her running togs.
She looked good. She
paused in the doorway.
I was nervous for some reason.
"You can come in and
watch me take a shower
from now on. Any time you want to.
Just flush the toilet if you use it, instead
of leaving it."
And then she was gone,
leaving me sitting there
wondering how the world had suddenly got turned on its side.
Now I know what kind of genre this story fits into. And I've read a few of the other stories in this 'erotica' genre, so I know what
expecting. You're expecting that things
escalated right away and I got busy with my sister.
But that's not what happened. Sorry.
What did happen
was that, over the next
week I went in and watched Jennifer through the glass four more times.
Mom and Dad both worked, but Mom only worked
part time. She did a lot of volunteer
work, but you never knew when that would be, so there were times when
a parent around. Both of us knew this
new little game we'd found would not be appreciated by our parents.
But ... and this was an
important but ... it was
also obvious that Jenn did, in fact, want me to watch her in the
was made clear by the fact that, those four times I got to watch her,
waited to take a shower until after Mom and Dad went to work ... and
to find me and tell me she was going to take a shower.
The first time it was
strange, knowing that she
could see me and that she wanted me to see her.
I was kind of tense. I didn't
have to pee, so I had no legitimate purpose in sitting on the john.
But that's what I did. I
dropped my drawers and sat down. I had a
boner, of course, but I didn't play
with it that first time. The weirdness
continued as she turned off the water and spoke to me.
"Bobby?" she called.
"Um ... yeah?"
"You're not doing
That seemed really stupid
to me, because I was
most assuredly doing something. I was
sitting there staring at the blur of her body behind the glass,
able to run my hands over her wet body.
"I thought you'd ... you
know ... be
touching yourself," she explained.
"Oh," I said.
"Is anything wrong?" she
It was so strange having
this conversation with
this wall of wavy glass between us. In
one sense it seemed normal, in that I was just having a conversation
sister. In another it seemed very ab-normal.
I mean the fact of where we were and what she
was doing makes that obvious, I guess, but it was also strange because
we were having a conversation. Honestly,
that was the more atypical part of this whole new relationship.
She'd always run around in her underwear from
time to time, and she had a bikini just like every other girl in town.
True I didn't get to see her naked or
anything, but modesty wasn't king in our house.
No, the odd part was that ever since she'd told me I could watch
the shower, we'd gotten along really well, and talked to each other a
more. I know now that all that meant was
that we were acting more like normal brothers and sisters, who do
to each other and interact routinely.
Of course I'm aware that
most sisters don't
invite their brothers to watch them take a shower, or like watching
brother jerk off, but those weren't the things we talked about on a day
basis. I can't even remember what we did
talk about, but it was what I now know was just normal sibling chit
Except for now, of course.
Right now, we were chit chatting
sexual things in a way I'm pretty sure most brothers and sisters don't.
"No," I answered her.
"It just seems weird, I guess."
"After all the times you
snuck in here to
stare at me, suddenly it seems weird?"
"I guess it's different
now that I know you
can see me," I said.
"Did you steal all the
"I thought you might do
that because I did
it to you," she said.
"I'm ready to dry off,"
I interpreted that to
mean it was time for me to
leave, so I stood up. I didn't even
think about the fact that I was still rock hard, and my cock jutted out
proudly. I scurried out and went to my
room to jack off and get some relief.
Fifteen minutes after I
groaned and unloaded my
balls in a pair of dirty underwear we were sitting across the table
"Why'd you run out like
asked, without preamble.
"You told me to leave," I
"No, I didn't."
"You said you were ready
to dry off," I
"I was asking you to hand
me a towel, you
dope," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Oh. Sorry. Guess I
"You're the older
brother. You're supposed
to be smart," she said.
That felt more normal.
"I'll remember next
time," I said. I had a thought. "Is there
going to be
a next time?" I asked.
"Of course. I like doing
"You can say that again,"
"But next time you have
to play with
"Sure," I said. "I have
you this doesn't make a lot of sense to me, though."
"Of course it does.
I'm fifteen. I'm not allowed to date yet. How
else am I supposed to learn about boys?
Who else would I learn about boys from?"
"Your friends?" I
"I may not be all that old and sophisticated, but everybody
the average kid is full of shit when it comes to knowing about sex."
I had never heard the
word "shit" issue
from her lips. The limits of her
"bad" language, in fact, had always been related to things she called
me. Dork, turd, loser, retard, and a
host of other pretty normal things girls call their brothers in a
disgust or anger. She'd even gotten
creative on two occasions, once calling me an abortion, though that one
make any sense, and another time calling me an asshole.
She'd whispered that one, though, and the
ease with which "shit" rolled off her lips was kind of astonishing.
"I guess," I said.
"So being able to
actually see things
is really important," she said.
"I guess that makes
admitted. I knew I wished I could see a
naked girl up close and personal. I
suspect that's why I peeked at Jennifer in the first place. "So ... if
do that, does that mean you'll be ... um ... doing it inside there at
"Of course," she said, as
if it was the
most obvious thing in the world.
I decided not to point
out that while she was
"seeing" things through her side of the glass, all I was going to get
to observe was her indistinct form through my side.
So this all sounds pretty
simple, right? I mean our conversation was
right out in the
open and very forthcoming. So you'd
expect the rest of it to be that way too, right?
Except it wasn't.
Maybe it's because this was all too new to us both.
What I mean is that
instead of being that open
about it the next morning, after Mom had left for work, Jennifer
appeared in my
bedroom door and said, "I'm going to go take a shower."
I was reading and I
looked up from the book and
I know that sounds pretty
open, but by
"open" I mean someone might have expected it to go this way:
"I'm going to get naked
in the shower and
push my finger up in my cunny. Wanna
"Fuckin' A, I do!
Let me strip down and coax a load of spooge
out of my prick while I do that!"
But we didn't do that.
We talked in code.
Again I waited until she
was in the shower before
I went in. I was still in my sleepwear,
which was just a pair of jockey shorts, and I pushed them down to
fact I was very excited already. I sat
down, but then thought about the fact that it's pretty hard to beat off
sitting on the toilet unless you can lean back and straighten your body
bit. Jacking off while sitting upright
just doesn't feel like the optimum position in which to pursue this
So I stood back up and
started stroking my meat
while I looked at the shower door.
She made noises this time.
They were just little
hums and soft moans, but I
knew what they meant, or at least my imagination accepted that they
was, in fact, masturbating in the spray.
It made me get there really quickly, probably within two minutes
less. I thought about turning to aim at
the bowl, but something deep in my brain demanded that I show her what
doing to me ... what she was responsible for.
So I just leaned back a
little when I felt it get
there, and shot in my hand, right there, two feet from the shower door.
by then the "ewww" factor of spunking in my hand seemed less
important than showing her what she was doing to me.
"Fuck!" yipped my sister.
She was turning into a regular little potty
Then I got all freaked
out that I'd just done
what I'd just done and ran out of the bathroom.
I had a handful of spooge, so I couldn't pull up my shorts.
I just stepped out of them and fled.
I had to clean my hand off in the kitchen
sink. Then I freaked again at the
thought that if I left even one spot of it there, my mother would
the second she saw it. And that led to a
mind-bending few seconds in which I contemplated how familiar my mother
with semen, which just grossed me the fuck out. It should be instructive that all this was more important in my mind than the possibility that my mother might walk into the house and find me naked at the kitchen sink.
It was one thing to lust
after my sister. It was another to imagine
my mother being a
So, I suppose, I was only
half fucked up.
END OF PREVIEW
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