I got home from playing basketball, and my mom and her friends were in the middle of ladies bridge night. Two tables with four women each all looked over at me when I came through the door, and I turned a little red. I must have been a picture of loveliness, my sweat stained t-shirt clinging to my chest and back, my damp hair hanging in my face, basketball in the crook of my arm. I waved to my mom and headed upstairs. "Charlie!" she called after me.
I turned around and headed back down, peeking around the corner to avoid their eyes. "Did you remember to drop off the movies for me?"
"Sure I did." I said. "On my way out this morning." The bridge women were all looking at me, and I started to get that weird feeling again. At 18, I was just barely growing out of that adolescent self-consciousness, and I just wanted to get out of there, go upstairs and hit the damn shower.
"Thanks, Charlie."
"Sure." I smiled a greeting to the room and trotted up the stairs to the bathroom.
Once inside, I stripped off my sweaty t-shirt and dropped it on the floor. With sudden inspiration, I headed back to my room to grab a magazine from under my mattress, figuring to have some fun while they were all downstairs. I wasn't especially in the mood, but like most 20 year olds I had a perpetual hard on, and with my mom's friends all downstairs and no one else in the house, I figured my chances for interruption were minimal.
I went back into the bathroom, shut the door, and started to pull down my shorts, when suddenly I noticed a woman sitting on the toilet. It was one of my mom's friends, seated on the toilet facing me, and she had my shirt in her hands, close to her face, as if she'd smelled it. Wide eyed, I started to back away.
"Wait," she said, smiling. "Hold on a second." Panicked, I froze. She was wearing a white t-shirt over relatively small but shapely breasts, and her navy blue shorts and underwear were around her ankles. "I'm sorry," she said. Her hair was short and blonde, and except for the lines around her eyes and mouth, I'd have put her closer to my age than my mom's. "The downstairs one was occupied, and I really needed to go. If you can wait just a second, I'll be all through."
I was confused, so I complied, just sort of standing there shirtless, and, I realized, with an obvious erection. I started to redden again, trying to hide the magazine behind me, looking at the ground as I felt her eyes on me. "What have you got there?" she asked.
"Nothing." I said.
"Let me see."