At the weekend, when our parents were out shopping, Sally came and stood beside, whilst I was sat at the dining table, doing some schoolwork.
I was doing Maths homework. And, as she leaned down to check on some of my calculations, I took the opportunity, once again, to reach back and stroke her arse.
Once again, she did nothing to stop me. After initially flinching at the contact, this time I could definitely feel her “pushing back” against my hand. As well as leaning just a little closer towards me.
Emboldened by this, I finally found the courage to break my silence.
“God Sally, you’ve got a gorgeous bum,” I managed to croak.
“Thank you,” she almost whispered in response.
Looking back (and having checked this with Sally retrospectively) I could and should have gone further. But, once again, my courage failed me.
Over the next few weeks, with my confidence increasingly bolstered by the lack of any reproach, whenever we were alone in the house together I engineered a reason to stand close to Sally. And, whenever I did, I took the opportunity to fondle her arse. Initially I’d be caressing the cheeks, over her clothing. But, becoming gradually bolder, I started to fondle the gusset of her trousers. Then, becoming bolder still, I’d reach under her trousers and caress bare skin. Though I was still not confident enough to feel her pussy directly.
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One of my prized possessions at the time was a porn mag that a friend in school had gifted me. He’d pinched it from his Dad’s collection. It was soft core and, compared to what’s now available online, really tame. But the tits and pussies on display (as well as the stories) kept me in “wanking fodder” for months on end.
One afternoon, prior to settling down to do some schoolwork, I’d retired to my room to masturbate as I poured over the centrefolds. Our parents were in work. And I knew Sally had a late revision session. So I’d have the house to myself.
I was laying there, masturbating vigorously, when I noticed, out of the corner of my eye that the door (which has been ajar) was now wide open. And Sally was standing there, open mouthed with horror, at the scene before her.
“Oh my God Jack, I’m so sorry,” Sally stammered in apology. “I saw the door open and heard you in here. But I should have knocked. I just came to see if you wanted a cup of tea…I can see you probably don’t,” she concluded with a shy smile.
I’d pulled a pillow onto my lap. But I was still laying there, completely naked. With Sally, seemingly, not in any rush to leave the room.
“Oh my God, I’m mortified,” I reported, beet red with shame. “You won’t tell Mum and Dad will you?” I pleaded.
“Of course not,” she responded. “I’d be too embarrassed to bring it up. And I’m sure they’d be too embarrassed to hear of it.”
“But anyway,” she continued, “it’s none of their business. And it’s not like you’re doing anything wrong, or out of the ordinary.”
My shoulders, in fact my whole body, relaxed as she said this. I really had been concerned about the potential repercussions. And I realised I’d been tensing up, almost rigid with fear and self-consciousness. Though my erection had certainly shriveled away to nothing!
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