"I'm taking off now, Poin," Sandra said. "Don't you and your book do anything I wouldn't do." And she actually leaned over and patted me on the head before she left.
"Poin" was short for "Poindexter," of course, a reference to the fact that I was stretched out on the couch reading a book about World War One while she was going out on a date. And the pat on my head was her way acting as if I were the younger sibling when in fact I was nineteen to her eighteen, a college freshman to her high school senior, and half a foot taller.
I just wasn't as social, is all. I mean, I've had girlfriends - well, I'd been on a bunch of dates, anyway - but Sandra was a cheerleader.
I wondered whether she knew that when she leaned over, she was exposing her entire lace bra to me. I didn't doubt it: I'd foolishly confided to her that I was still a virgin (though I
had
seen a few bras).
"You're still at it, Poin?" she asked when she came back a couple of hours later.
"Professor likes to assign a lot of read-" I began, before she cut me off. I guess she wasn't really interested. I'd also, by the way, long since given up asking her not to call me "Poin."
"Fuckin' Timothy," she said, "or
non
-fucking Timothy, I should say, couldn't get it up. Can you believe that?"
There was no safe answer, so I said nothing. I suppose reassuring her with "Just the sight of your bra before made me a little hard" would have been the absolutely worst thing to say.
(Normally, if I'm being honest, the sight of hard nipples showing through a thin bra would have sent me to my room to jerk off the moment she'd left the house, but jerking off to my sister's nipples seemed very wrong)
Not that she was really looking for an answer, of course, and she went straight into her own room.
About ten minutes later I went upstairs to the bathroom to piss and I heard what sounded like whimpering sounds coming from her room. Could she be crying over Timothy? I doubted it: she didn't seem to be that into him. Of course who knows? We used to tell one another everything, but we're not that kind of close anymore.
Maybe she was hurt.
At least I'm pretty sure those were the only things going through my mind at the time.
Her door was a bit ajar, which was unusual for her, so I peeked inside.
Sandra was on her bed, wearing one of the jerseys she used as nightshirts.
Though "wearing" might be overstating things, since it was pulled up high enough to fully expose one breast and most of the other. Her panties were down mid-thigh, and one hand was rubbing her pussy furiously. She was tossing her head from side to side, her groans sounding more like pants.
All thought of pissing were gone, as my dick was suddenly harder that I can ever remember it.
I couldn't move from the spot.
All qualms about jerking off to Sandra were gone and I wished I could whip it out in the hallway and do it while I watched her.
She seemed to be really into it, and I wondered whether this was how she usually was.
Or maybe she got laid so often, she didn't masturbate at all. I had no idea.
In any case I was transfixed, and I knew I'd be jerking off to the memory of this for some time to come.
And finally her entire body shook, and she made sort of a gurgling sound. Obviously I'd never heard a woman cum before.
I realized I'd better get away from the doorway, now that she was no longer distracted. And also I became aware that I had to piss worse than ever which, as you might guess, wasn't all that easy with massive erection.
But I managed and when I stepped out of the bathroom, somebody - Sandra - suddenly grabbed me and before I could get enough balance to resist, pulled me into her room and pushed me hard onto her bed. I hit the edge of the bed, then fell off, landing on my forearm. "What the fuck -?" I began.
"You mother-fucking asshole," she said.
"What? What did I do?" I asked. Though I knew.
"You were peeping at me, you goddamned perv."
I got to my feet, and she shoved me onto the bed. I guess I should have realized her cheerleading would leave her with impressive upper-body strength.
"Mom is going to kill you, if I don't just do it myself first."
