By bedtime I was horny as fuck again.
Even more than normal-18-year-old-guy horny.
Well, it'd been a weird day: first, my big sister and I had
fucked
, of all things. We both lost our minds, and we fucked. And then she told me this batshit crazy story about Naomi passing along some sort of horny-sickness. Probably comes from reading too many books about sparkly vampires.
Well, if it makes Naomi feel better about giving it up to her boyfriend... and maybe if she's convinced she still has it, I might have a shot with her.
Part of me wondered what would happen if I went to my sister's room, but... I had zero interest in ever having sex with her again. Not even the normal "fantasizing about your sister" thing I'd done on and off since I was twelve. And fuck, it's not as if sex with her wasn't good: I have nothing to compare it to, obviously, but I'm pretty sure sex isn't always that mind-blowing.
Still, zero interest in every doing it again. Weird. And believe me, it wasn't that I was feeling any guilt.
Whatever. More importantly, as horny as I was, I couldn't manage to focus enough to jerk off. And
that's
not a problem I'd ever had before.
I began wondering what I'd do if the girls' crazy idea were really true, which didn't
at all
help me get to sleep.
#
A part of me was always certain everybody at school knew I was a virgin, and whispered about it behind my back. Of course, I also knew that most eleventh graders were also virgins: more guys than would admit to it, and fewer girls who would claim it.
And now here I was, a guy who
had
had sex, and that same dumb part of me was certain everybody could tell. (And hopefully not tell the sex had been with my sister, because then I'd probably have to leave town)
But even putting all that silliness aside, I did feel a little weird. As if I were a fully-charged battery or something. I could keep it under control with some concentration, but all day I felt I was about to spout a huge erection.
And
that
was a problem because I take 5 different AP classes, and I need to be concentrating on those, not on keeping Little Jeremy from becoming Big Jeremy and embarrassing me.
By lunchtime, I began wondering whether my sister's fantasy could have something to it: yesterday had been crazy, after all, and I didn't have any other way of explaining it.