Let me begin at the beginning. At the time I was a 22-year-old graduate student in political science. I lived with my 19-year-old sister, Susan, in our mother's house. Our mother had been living – with the exception of brief trips home -- in the Virgin Islands for about two years, since my sister had started art school.
Susan and I got along remarkably well together in this house, though that may be because we lived quite separate lives. She had the third floor all to herself, while I had the second, and often whole days would go by without our seeing each other except over coffee in the morning.
The incident I write about took place because our television was broken. I don't generally watch television much but on the day of the first Clinton-Dole debate in 1996 I wanted to take it in. I asked Susan if I could watch on the small set in her bedroom. Certainly, she said.
After dinner I went up to her room while she was still working on a painting in her first floor studio. While in her room, in need of a Kleenex, I opened the drawer of her bedside table and discovered a vibrator and two adult movie tapes there. Well, well, little sister, I thought, smiling to myself. But not wanting to be thought a snoop, I simply put them back and closed the drawer.
Near the end of the debate -- which I must admit didn't fascinate me half as much as the thought of the paraphernalia in my little sister's drawer -- Susan came in with a glass of white wine wearing her usual outfit of black tights and a bulky fisherman's sweater. Kicking off her shoes, she flopped back on the bed and asked who was winning.
The debate ended and she said she thought, from what she had seen, that Clinton had won. "But you know what's funny, he kind of reminds me of Alex, the way he talks." Alex was her former boyfriend who she had broken up with a month earlier.
"Do you miss him?" I asked with genuine concern.
"Not much," she acknowledged. But then with a little giggle she added, "though I must admit I do sort of miss the sex."
"Really? But why would you miss the sex when you have ..." And with this I reached over to the drawer, opened it and pulled out the vibrator, holding it in front of me with a grin on my face. "...
this
to fill the gap, so to speak."
"Give me that!" she shouted angrily as she lunged to grab the appliance. But I was too quick for her, turning my back as she snapped her hands on my wrists from behind with remarkable strength.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," I said, "I'll give it back." And contritely I did. I could see she was still angry and her face was red with exertion and embarrassment. "I am sorry." I said, " I was just intrigued when I found it. You know, my own sister ... it's like the way you can never picture your parents actually doing it. I shouldn't have, and I know it."
"Well, why can't you picture your sister? All women do, it's just not something you want paraded publicly,
you snoop
!"
"I already apologized. And I know it's something all women do, though I must admit I've never seen one, you know ... do it."
"You mean all those girlfriends you parade over here and you've never had one of them masturbate for you," she snickered.
"No." Suddenly I was seeing myself as inexperienced in front of my own little sister.
"Well, why don't you
ask
them to if you want to watch?"
"Isn't it, like you said, something very private?"
"Sure, but it's also sort of exciting to have a guy watching.
Ask
, next time, I bet you'll be surprised by the answer."
"Have you ever watched a
guy
masturbate?"
"Yes."
"Did it ... you know ... excite you?"
"Oh, yes. Very much. I fantasized about it for months afterward."
"Who was it?"
"Who do you think?"
"You got Alex to jerk off for you?"
"No."
"Well, then who was it?
"You."
"Me?"
"Yup, you. It was about four years ago -- I was only about fourteen at the time -- at the cottage. I was in my room reading and you came up from the lake and were lying down on the daybed on the screened porch. I kept reading, but after about five or six minutes I was hearing sort of heavy breathing from the porch. I tiptoed to the window to see what was going on. I couldn't see your penis or your hand, but I could see your face and your shoulder was jerking a little. I almost said something, but then I figured out what was going on and I just kept quiet and continued watching. I was pretty well concealed and your eyes were closed, but I didn't dare move to a new position where I could actually see your pumping hand. But I kept watching your face and listened to your breathing and panting. At first I almost started to giggle, but then I was fascinated and sort of turned on. I could feel myself getting wet. And when you came -- with a little whimper and your face all contorted -- well, for a fourteen year old girl with almost no experience with boys, it was pretty exciting."
"And you just called
me
a snoop?!"
"I wasn't snooping, I was already there. You just sort of put on a show for me. And it was a good one, I must admit. You were a big part of my sex education," she laughed.
"Well then, I guess you owe me," I smiled.
"Owe you what?"
"A show."
"You mean you want me to diddle myself in front of
you
-- my big brother. You can't be real!"
"Oh, but I am. After all, you were the one who said all I have to do is ask. And that it was exciting to have a man watch you. Don't I qualify?" I had a smile on my face, but the truth is I was getting very turned on just thinking about it, and I could see that Susan was intrigued by the thought.
"Maybe. But I'd never be able to get off. I'd be thinking about you watching all the time."
"Well then, let's try this." And with that I reached into the drawer and pulled out one of the porno films. "You can concentrate -- you can lose yourself in the film -- forget I'm here. I'll sit here in the chair. You need never even look at me."
"I'm not sure."
"Well, you don't have to be. Let's just try it. You don't have to show me anything more than you got watching me -- cover everything but your head with the comforter. If it doesn't work for you, just stop. But it could be very exciting you know."
She looked very hesitant, but I could see she was intrigued in spite of herself. Finally she said, "Okay, but we'll just try it!"
My heart -- or something -- leapt. I put the tape in the VCR while Susan piled pillows to lay her head on and spread the comforter over her. I dared not look at her or say anything because I sensed she was just on the edge of changing her mind and I didn't want to give her any excuse I was so anxious to watch her get off. Then I went back to the chair by the side of the bed, positioned it facing the television and sat down.
With the remote I started the movie. I fast-forwarded through the FBI warning and the phone sex solicitations and then set it on play for the serious action. The video was a compendium -- a "best of" collection -- and it opened with a sequence of a phone repair man with an obviously horny housewife.
I kept my eyes on the screen with occasional sidelong glances at Susan with her arms under the comforter which came up just under her breasts. She was still wearing the big, bulky sweater. I couldn't see any movement of the comforter during the warm-up on screen. I was afraid the whole thing was too awkward for Susan and she would call the whole thing off at any moment.
To keep it going I tried to try some "educate me" questions. Trying to put her in the role of teacher and me -- her older brother -- as student. "Do women like these films as much as men? Does it turn them on?"
"Let's just say I know this tape pretty well," Susan answered.
"Do you like the women with women scenes best? Or the ones with the guys?"
"Both, I guess, but quit asking me questions if you want me to get into this," she answered, sounding annoyed. "Later I'll show you the scene on this tape that most excites me."
I kept quiet. And after a few minutes with the action now hot and heavy on screen, Susan sort of squirmed under the comforter and I knew that she was she was pushing her tights (and her panties?) down. And after that there started a slow stroking of her pussy, visible only as a slight, but steady movement of the comforter.
She never looked over at me in my chair positioned slightly behind her head and I was no longer looking at the screen, but only at Susan. Her breathing was noticeably heavier now, but still even and slow. Her head started rocking backwards into the pillow very slightly now and the pace of the hand movements became a bit faster. I was getting extremely turned on, my penis uncomfortable in my jeans -- but I dared not move to alleviate the discomfort, though I did stroke myself very slightly through the denim with my fingers.
Suddenly there was a click and I could hear a low hum from under the comforter. The vibrator -- which I had almost forgotten -- was on, and I could see Susan spread her legs more. Her eyes were still on the screen, but now every so often she'd close them briefly and loll her head sideways for a moment. Her mouth was now slackly open and her heavy breathing became more like panting. I thought she was going to come at any moment and I was as hard as I've ever been in my life. I could feel my cock oozing pre-come.
But she wasn't there yet. And I had more wonderful minutes of watching her lost in her labors. Now she spread her legs further and her knees came up a bit making a tent of the comforter. And then there was a sharp intake of breath and a slight groan.
I was sure she was now totally unaware of my presence. But she surprised me by asking, "Are you watching?"
"Oh yes." I said reverently.
"It's in me now and it feels so good. I'm moving it in and out very slowly. Can you picture it? In ... and out ... in ... and out. I wish you could feel this pleasure."
She said nothing for a few moments, but the slow steady movement continued under the comforter. Her breathing was forced and jerky now and came in bursts in reaction to her hand movements.
"Are you liking this?" she asked breathily.
"Yes."
