As I got older though, my bedtime changed and I could pretty much decide for myself what time I would turn in. Mind you, when I wrote earlier that I thought Peter was sexy, that became quite an understatement when I hit puberty. Every time we would go to Germany, I was hoping it would be his house we would spend the night at. I can't count the number of times I laid in bed, thinking about my cousin. One day I decided to see if he might feel the same about me as I did about him.
At 18, I pretended to have a headache during dinner and retreated to his bedroom to lie down. Of course I had brought just the right outfit to wear, while lying on the bed pretending to be oh so sexy and asleep. I wore bright pink boy shorts, which accented the globes of my firm ass. As a top I wore a little halter bra, in the same matching color. After more than two hours of lying on my stomach, waiting for Peter to come in, the door finally opened and someone walked in. Since I pretended to be a sleep, I don't know who it was, but my guess is that it was Peter who saw me stretched out on top of the covers, one knee pulled close to my body, the other leg straight. I had placed my weight on one of my shoulders, so my ass was raised up a little bit. All I heard was someone coming in and standing near the doorway for what must have been a solid two minutes. Then the door closed and whoever it was left.
I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I remember is waking up to Peter coming into the room, already dressed for bed in his shorts and T-shirt. When he saw that I was awake, he asked me how I was feeling and I said: much better. We talked a little bit, but nothing indicated that he was the one who had looked at me earlier that evening. After a little while he turned off the lights and said goodnight. I realized then that I had to come up with a different strategy to get him to notice me.
So after a while I pretended to have nightmares, I murmured some incomprehensible words, and sped up my breathing. I could hear Peter move around in his bed and finally, he called my name to wake me up or calm me down. I decided not to respond to his voice and continued to make noises and added some shivering for effect. I could hear Peter getting out of bed and soon he had a hand on my shoulder, shaking me gently. In my pretend sleep, I grabbed his hand and held onto it for dear life, pressing it firmly against my chest; thereby giving him a feel of my breast. I don't remember if he tried to move his hand, but I don't think he did. My fake murmurs turned into fake moans and my breathing became even harder. I could feel the warmth of his hand on my breast, and my little nipple was getting harder by the second.