“Let’s just say she is a dark horse.”
“Are you sure?”
“Ninety-nine per cent certain. Lets put it this way it is not just a hunch. She asked me about fisting. – Don’t look like that!”
I was shocked, Sarah said I often lifted my eyebrows when questioning something — I reckon they had shot into the vertical plane. My little sister asking about fisting, she hardly ever asked about sex or relationships, not with me, not with Sarah. I was having difficulty getting my head round this, sure I knew she was maturing — her eighteenth birthday party had cost me more than a weeks salary — but still in my mind she was frozen in time as my little sister. It is illogical I know but that is how it is. “Tell me more.”
“It was the night before last, Tuesday night. We were both in the living room, the TV was on neither of us were watching it, I was on my I-pad messaging you, Ruth had her lap-top open. Suddenly I realised the muffled sound track I could here sounded like porn. You know that electro nothing music.”
“That’s nothing maybe something else,” I said not wanting to believe her.
“I did not believe my own ears. So I asked her what she was doing. – Bold as brass she said watching a porn move. So I let it go — she’s an adult.”
“So she’s watching porn — everyone does.” I answered casually — I did not feel so cool.
“Yes as you say. We were drinking wine. She poured me another glass then out of the blue she said. Sarah you let James fist you. I think I blushed and mumbled a reply — this was not a conversation I had been expecting to ever have with your little sister, I mean she is like a cross between a daughter and a younger sister to me. I don’t usually get embarrassed and tongue-tied, but right then I was speechless. She was really insistent demanding an answer. It was when she said to me. You do, don’t fib — I’ve seen you.”
“She’s what?”
“She says she came home early one weekend and we were in the living room having a major session.”
“The weekend Shirley was ill?” I remembered she had been babysitting for a neighbour and should have been away all weekend while the parents were taking a romantic break. For a change Sarah and I had the house to ourselves. We had played with wild abandon, starting on the Friday evening shortly after Ruth had left, we had started. First we had showered together — my soapy fist slithering into Sarah’s pussy. Not bothering to dress we had gone into the kitchen, Sarah had lain on the hard counter and again I had fisted her. We had adjourned to the bedroom — you get the idea, sleep had not been on the agenda. Saturday had been a continuation of Friday evening. Yes I could understand how Ruth had seen us, because unfortunately on the Saturday, the mother Shirley had developed full blown flu, unknown to us they returned home early, bringing Ruth’s baby-sitting job to an early end. Unusually Ruth had telephoned before coming home, now I realised she had already come home and was merely being diplomatic. “I wonder what she saw?” I mused.
“Me with my pussy being stretched.”