“No, I’m not saying that. You’re just… Kylie. Same as you ever were.”
She nodded, but didn’t look entirely happy. She was starting to get fidgety too. She’d take off on me soon if I didn’t do something. The only problem was I didn’t really have any great plan for salvaging the conversation.
I decided to compromise. “Hey, why don’t you go paint for a bit,” I said.
“Um… I mean, ok, but are you gonna go?”
“No. I’m gonna stick around and stare at your butt.”
Kylie gave me a curious look. She probably couldn’t tell if I was joking. I only kind of was.
After a moment of calculation, she smiled. “Ok.”
So that’s what we did. I dragged Kylie’s comfy chair around a bit to get a better view of her while she worked, and she painted away, only occasionally checking over her shoulder to make sure I was still watching.
It was an odd solution by any standard. But somehow, it was one that worked for us. It gave us both some time to think and work things out in our heads without me having to leave, which neither us really wanted at the moment.
I had Kylie’s ass to amuse me and keep me attentive when my mind wandered, and she had the naughty knowledge that I was eyeing her in a mildly inappropriate kind of way.
I wasn’t terribly surprised when Kylie took a moment to strip out of her new pants. She could have given some false excuse like how she didn’t want to get paint on them, which was a legitimate concern, but we both knew it had more to do with her desire for my attention.
The panties she had on underneath were almost certainly a new pair as well. They weren’t tiny and revealing exactly, but they were sexier than I expected from her. They hugged her ass even better than her jeans, while also revealing quite a bit more of her tantalizing skin.
My erection had been debating whether to come fully to life or not. It had made a decision by this point. I adjusted myself slightly, but only had an uncomfortably small amount of room for my cock to grow into.
I wasn’t sure what would happen if I just took my pants off too. I didn’t think it was a good idea, exactly, but it wasn’t any worse than Kylie taking hers off. My situation wasn’t so dire that I needed to do anything, and it wasn’t like this was my first uncomfortable boner of all time, so for the moment I just abided.
For a time, Kylie seemed to forget I was even there. She carried on painting, sometimes just standing and staring at her work before resuming her brush strokes. She wasn’t trying to pose for me or show off, she was just doing what she did.
I liked her better when she was acting natural. There was a certain illicit thrill to her trying to get my attention, but overall she was more alluring when she wasn’t. Maybe it was just because that was how I was more familiar with her. I was used to her getting so absorbed in her work that she forgot the rest of the world existed. In those moments, she was as much my big sister as she ever would be.
It helped ease my conscience that Kylie had, essentially, given me permission to still watch her, despite her having since forgotten about me. I stayed quiet and watched her, and daydreamed, and sometimes wondered if I shouldn’t just leave. My pangs of guilt were so infrequent as to be inconsequential, but not gone entirely.