I was barely 18, just out of high school the year my sister Florence came to live with Mom and me. Florence was my half sister from my Dad's first marriage.
I really didn't know her growing up, just visits maybe 2-3 times per year. She mostly ignored me, I considered her to be a stuck up snot to be honest. She grew up being cared for by my Aunt, after Dad died Mom just couldn't handle Florence and me both. I was pretty mellow, Florence was a handful, boys, drinking, into something all the time.
My Aunt lived on a farm way out in the country so that put quite a damper on Florence's exploits.
Now I had to put up with her underfoot all the time. Every morning she would go into the bathroom and lock the door. It would be a solid hour before she came out, plastered with makeup, looking like she was going somewhere even though she wasn't.
Just a pain in the ass, mostly.
Add in that she seemed to delight in finding something about me to put down, treating me like a little kid because she was 3 years older than me.
My life became simply miserable.
Florence got the big bedroom upstairs, too. That meant I was out in the main room, more like a dormitory than a room. When Dad was alive he logged our place, the crew that worked for him spent 5 nights each week at the house, and they used the big main room. The side bedroom was on the left at the top of the stairs, it had a door. The big room on the right had nothing, no privacy at all.
So on top of everything else, I lost my nice private room, that pissed me off.
One thing about the upstairs was the ceiling. It was just wooden boards, not even painted. The old house was never finished. The boards had gaps about a half inch wide between them. They were probably fairly tight when put in but the lumber was green, so they all shrank some as they dried out over the years.
I knew that from up in the attic I could see right down into the upstairs floor. That was because I stored my toys and comic books and a few other books I didn't want Mom to know about up there.
The opening to the attic was just a wooden cover, to get up there I had to stand on the bed and pull myself up.
Easy to do, I was young and strong.
So one night I was laying in bed, I could see the light under the door from the room that Florence was in. I had one of my books and a flashlight under the covers, as close as I could get to privacy.
Then a thought popped into my head. I hopped up, quietly, and lifted the attic cover and set it aside. Then I swung my legs up and into the opening.
Being careful to step just on the beams I worked my way across to over Florence's room. I could see the light from in there shining through the cracks.
Working my way into position, I peeked down and there stood Florence in front of a mirror. She had on blue jeans and just her bra.
I was instantly hard as a rock!
I sat quietly for a long time as she fiddled with her hair, messed around with jars and lotions.
Then she reached behind her back and tripped the bra!!
Her smallish little titties swung into view, they were capped with dark nipples. She lifted them with both hands, turned one way, then the other, admiring herself in the mirror. Then she did something I thought was odd, she pinched her nipples between her thumb and forefinger and rolled them. I could see part of her face from my angle, her expression looked like it hurt like hell?
Then she suddenly stopped, pulled her jeans down and off. I saw her fanny in a pair of plain white panties for just a few seconds, as she walked over the the switch and turned out the light.
I sat there quiet as a mouse until I heard her breathing steady, then I sneaked back to the attic opening and slipped down to my bed.
I whacked off furiously thinking about Florence's titties. I had to do it under the covers, and I didn't want to make a mess so I had a washcloth I kept handy.
For several weeks, that became a ritual. I watched as Florence sometimes lay back on the bed, rolling her nipples with both hands and squeezing her legs together tightly. A couple of times she rolled over on her stomach and thrust her hand down the front of her panties, I could see the muscles of her ass working as she pumped her hips.
Those damn white panties were ever present, though. I wanted to see her pussy, see what the hairs looked like. I wanted to see if she looked like the pictures of the girls I had in some of my magazines.
Florence still treated me like shit, but now I didn't mind. I was getting my revenge almost every night.
Then one night two of her friends showed up. One was Kathy, she was older than me, too. She was a little bit heavy, and wore jeans that looked like someone had jumped up and down on her to get her in them. Her blouse was a plain white one, it looked like a man's short sleeve shirt.
The other one was Janet, she was slender, almost too slender. She had on low cut pants, a halter top which left her stomach bare.
Kinda sexy, I thought.
They all more of less dismissed me as of no importance, off they went to the upstairs room. It wasn't long before there was cackling, loud noises, it sounded like they were having a battle royal up there.
Mom was gone to work at the restaurant, she worked the 3 to 11 shift 6 nights a week, part of how I got away with a lot of my escapades.
I went to the bottom of the stairs and yelled.
"Hey, ya wanna hold it down a little, I am trying to watch TV!"
"Shove it up your ass, pipsqueak!" was all I got in response.
That pissed me off.
I sneaked up the stairs, avoiding the 3rd step from the top that always made a noise. I hopped up on my bed, then climbed across the stringers to over Florence's room.
All three of them were sitting on the bed, passing a cigarette back and forth and giggling at the top of their lungs.
It took me a moment to realize that that wasn't a cigarette, they were smoking drugs! Mom would have a screaming fit if she found out, I knew.
I thought about telling on Florence, but how would I explain that?
"Hey, Mom, I was peeking into Florence's room from up in the attic.....?"
Yea, sure.
To hell with it, I stood up to sneak back out.
I bumped my head on the rafters, lost my balance for a second, and stepped off the stringer I was balanced on onto the ceiling boards.
I managed to catch myself but not before pushing the board loose an inch or so.
Suddenly it was completely quiet.
"You MOTHERFUCKING little PERVERTED cocksucking little SON OF A BITCH!!" I heard Florence scream.
Oh shit.
I scrambled for the attic opening, was just lowering myself down onto the bed when Florence arrived. She stood here with her hands on her hips, glaring at me, Kathy and Janet right behind her.
"What the FUCK are you DOING, you perverted little BASTARD?" she yelled.
"I was just getting some of my comic books." I managed to whimper.
