Excuses
(This is a work of fiction, all characters are assumed to be above legal age. Any resemblance to real persons or events is purely coincidental.)
It's late. My friends all went and hung out at a party tonight, but I wanted to stay home. I had my reasons, and now it is late, later than I'm supposed to be up, even on a Friday.
But it's not my fault. Mom and Dad are having sex in their bedroom. Not real loud, but loud enough for me to hear.
If it were just the noise, I could sleep through it.
Mom and Dad always say sex is a part of life, and a nice part, too, so there's no reason to hide it. But I wonder what they'd say if they knew that right now, I'm rubbing my dick through my PJs while I listen to them. Or if they knew that I'm trying to picture what they're doing in my head. I've seen both of them naked enough times that I can imagine it pretty clearly. Maybe Dad is pushing it really hard into Mom from behind; he has a pretty big dick, and I know Mom loves it when he really shoves it in like that. Or maybe Mom is sitting on her dresser, with her arms and legs wrapped around Dad and moaning while he hammers her pussy. Maybe she's on top of him, letting him squeeze her big boobs while she goes up and down on his dick.
It's not just listening to them or picturing them that's making me horny. It's not even imagining being Dad, shoving that big dick into Mom and watching her boobs swing and hearing her moan. It's because of what else usually happens on nights like this.
I hear my bedroom door slowly creaking open. I know who it is, so I just stay where I am, lying on my back with my hand on my crotch.
"Joey?" I hear my sister whisper. Then, as she opens the door wider and the light from the hallway falls across my bed, she says, "Oh, you're awake."
Karen almost always comes into my room when Mom and Dad are having sex. And we kind of do the same thing every time, so I'm not surprised when she closes the door behind her, walks over to my bed, and sits down next to me. Or when her hand slips right under mine and over my pajama bottoms--and the erect dick inside them.
"Aw, it's all hard," she says, like a mom who's just seen that her kid has a boo-boo. "Does it hurt when it gets like this?"
She's one year younger than me, so sometimes she likes to talk to me like I'm a little kid. I don't really mind. And even though she's asked me the question like a dozen times, I always say the same thing.
"Sometimes."
She starts rubbing it. She's not any better at it than I am, but it still feels nicer when she does it.
"Can I touch your boobies?" I say. I've been saying that since the first time; I guess her rubbing my dick made me braver than usual. And it gives her an excuse to do the next thing she's going to do.
"Sure," she says. Then she stands up and pulls off her nightgown. Most of the time she wears underwear under it, but when she comes into my room on these nights, she never does. So, when she sits down again, she's totally naked.
Karen is really pretty when she's naked. Her boobs aren't really big; they're just big enough to fit in my hand. Her tummy is flat and feels really smooth. And because it's nighttime, her straight brown hair is down, hanging around her face.
"There," she says. "Oh, but it's not fair if you're not naked, too."
"Okay," I say, like always.
And like always, I put my arms over my head and sit up a little so she can pull my pajama top off. Then I push my hips up in the air so she can do the bottoms. As soon as we're done with that, her hand is right back on my dick, this time with no pajamas in the way.
"It's SO hard," she says, rubbing and rubbing it as I reach up to touch and play with her soft boobies and hard nipples. "When it gets hard like this, do you ever think about putting it inside a girl?"
"Uh-huh," I say. "All the time." I'm breathing a little harder now.
"That's okay," Karen says, like she wants to make sure I don't feel bad about it. "It's natural for boys to want to do that. It's just part of their instincts."
"Uh-huh," I say again. She's got her whole hand around my dick now, moving up and down real slow, and I'm squeezing her boobies again and again with both hands. They feel so amazing.
Then, like always, I say, "What about girls?"
It's like we're taking turns. She says something that gives me an excuse to do what I want to do, and then I say something that gives her an excuse to do what she wants to do.
I only have a twin bed, but I was pretty much on one side of it when Karen came in, so there's enough room for her to lie down next to me. Which she does.
"Girls have instincts too," she says, almost whispering in my ear. "When a girl is with a boy she really likes, a boy who makes her get all wet down there, she gets this urge to open her legs wide."
She does it even while she's saying it. It's dark in the room, but her skin is pale enough that if I raise my head, I can see her legs move apart and see the darker place between them, and the little fluffy patch of hair above it.
