Bluedragon - Quarantined With My Sisters

her correctly but Michelle was too embarrassed to admit it. Either way, I realized I shouldn’t press the issue and instead focused on answering her last question. “Yeah, Game of Thrones. Sure.” Like I said, we were all out of good new shows to watch and by now had resorted to reruns.

Michelle gave me a tight smile and turned the corner to head for the stairs.

But dammit if I wasn’t stuck with the image of Michelle rubbing herself in the shower now.

Pornhub. Pronto, I told myself. With some busty slut that doesn’t look anything like Michelle.

* * *

It was five days later when Michelle and I cued up a new core exercise video, this time a 40-minute Sydney Cummings vid. We’d already seen all the good Thenx, Blogilates, and Pamela Reif vids, and Sydney Cummings did have some really long workouts that pushed us even harder.

Thing is: Upper-body workouts tire me out but don’t make me really sweat. Same goes for lower-body workouts, for that matter. But the core and cardio workouts REALLY push me to my limits since they never really STOP. You can’t catch your breath. And after thirty minutes feeling my sweat-soaked shirt sticking to my skin, I finally just ripped it off and kept going.

Five minutes later, I noticed Michelle checking out my naked torso. Two minutes after that, I noticed her doing it again. She didn’t say anything, and I didn’t react in any way to make it obvious that I’d caught her, but I couldn’t un-notice her either.

And then hell, I let myself give Michelle a once over with my eyes as well. To be perfectly honest, her body reminded me a LOT of Pamela Reif’s, and tonight she wore a skin-tight Lululemon tee and volleyball shorts that showed off her thigh gap (she was on the Varsity team at school). I noticed that SHE noticed me checking her out, and suddenly I was blushing as pink as Michelle had been five days earlier.

When we were done, Michelle went upstairs to take a shower. I went to my desk chair to watch some Pornhub, taking care not to pick anything that reminded me of my little sister. The problem was, I kept imagining that Michelle was masturbating in the shower, and despite the moving pictures of busty young sluts crawling all over each other and one lucky guy on the screen before me, I couldn’t get that image out of my mind.

And I did NOT want to ejaculate while thoughts of Michelle were in my head. That was just... wrong.

Bottom line: I didn’t get off before Michelle finished her shower. Feeling quite antsy, I really just wanted to get my own shower over with, so I grabbed my towel and went to wait for her to come out of the bathroom. I suppose I could have gone to use the big shower in our parents’ master bedroom, but Michelle and I had always used the hallway bathroom. Only Alex ever went into our parents’ bathroom, whether it was to shower or use the toilet.

Now let me make clear that I didn’t usually wait for my sister to emerge. Usually, my post-workout jerk-off sessions lasted longer than her shower, so she was always already in her bedroom by the time I came out. Not that she walked naked out of the bathroom or anything like that, but Michelle was certainly surprised when she popped the door.

Michelle had very long, very fine hair. She was quite proud of it and took care of it religiously. When dry, it hung in a shimmering curtain halfway down her back, accentuating her willowy, lengthy body. Still damp, as it was now, it stuck tightly to her scalp, drawing my attention to her large, luminous eyes as she stared at me, her pouty lips slightly parted as if panting with arousal.

Or, you know, gasping in surprise to see her brother waiting just outside the door. One or the other.

Holding her dirty clothes in one hand, she was wearing her towel wrapped around her torso with the fold tucked into her cleavage. My eyes had darted to that cleavage for a moment and then trailed down the exposed skin of her long, lithe legs. I turned away in embarrassment, muttering “Sorry! Sorry!” for surprising her and silently chastising myself for ogling her just now. She muttered something in reply, quietly enough that I didn’t catch it immediately, and went into her bedroom. I waited until I heard the door latch click shut before I turned back around to go into the bathroom, praying fervently that she hadn’t noticed the massive bulge in my gym shorts.

Only THEN did her words filter into my brain: “It’s okay. I don’t mind you looking.”

I didn’t have the brain power at this moment to process that, so I hurried into the bathroom and shut the door behind me.

And my damn hard-on wouldn’t go away.

“I don’t mind you looking”? Seriously. What the hell is going on? Is my little sister ... like ... interested? In me?

We had been in quarantine WAY too long.

Am -I- interested in my sister? Da fuq?

This was so WRONG.

My erect column of meat bobbed and weaved unceasingly as I tried (and failed) to focus on shampooing my hair and then washing my face. I grabbed it a couple of times, half-heartedly giving it a few jerks before letting go to concentrate on soaping my body. But once everything was rinsed off, I sighed and bent my head forward, taking a firm but supple hold of my shaft and stroking it with the intent to get myself off as quickly as possible.

Unfortunately, dirty thoughts of Michelle rubbing herself off in this very shower just minutes prior kept invading my mind. I tried to recall the physical features of my Pornhub vixens. I tried to remember exactly what Avery looked like naked. I even tried to subtly morph the image in my head of Michelle’s body to put Pamela Reif’s face on top of it, to no avail. Somebody had inceptioned the idea of my little sister masturbating into my mind, and I couldn’t get it out!

I realized I wasn’t going to spurt anytime soon, not without thinking of Michelle that is. Not wanting to waste water, I switched off the spray and started drying off. My massive schlong refused to go down, and I resolved to cueing up Pornhub or perhaps opening one of my favorite erotica stories as soon as I got back to my room. I just knew I’d have to do it fast, because Michelle would be waiting for me to start Game of Thrones soon.

I wrapped my towel around my waist, chuckling at the obscene tent I was pitching at a 45-degree upward angle. Eager to get to my masturbation session, I grabbed my dirty clothes with one hand and opened the door with the other to hurriedly step outside...

... and nearly ran into Alex. My big sister had been passing down the hallway, and she yelped in shock and jerked away when my face suddenly loomed just a few inches away from hers. I jerked away myself, taking a quick side-step to avoid bumping into her, and we both came to a stop a couple of feet away from each other, eyes wide open in surprise.

“Sorry! Sorry!” I apologized.

“Jeezus, you scared me!” Alex exclaimed, holding her hand over her heart. But then her eyes dropped down my torso, taking in my bulging pecs and tense abs. I really did have a six-pack, and was quite proud of it, which was why I continued to do all those core workout videos. And then my sister’s eyes got REALLY big as she saw the bulging tent in my towel.

Right then, my towel slipped off completely. In my haste to side-step a collision, I had apparently stretched the limits of friction a single towel tuck can make. With my hands held up and to my sides in a defensive, apologetic posture, I was helpless to stop the terrycloth from puddling to the floor, revealing my throbbing manhood in all its glory.

Not that I stayed in that position to let her ogle away or anything. I felt the towel slipping --">