“Are you injured?”
“No, just a little sore.” He was buying it!
Then I watched his eyes travel down my body. He looked at my shorts and panties, which were still open and unbuttoned, revealing the top of my smooth mound. His brow furrowed in confusion as he looked back at my face.
“You were putting something away?”
“Um, yeah.”
He looked at my closet, and his eyes lingered over the toppled boxes. I could see the gears in his mind working as his gaze moved upward. He stared at the dark line of the gap for a moment, then back down to the boxes.
He stood.
“Zack?”
He ignored me and walked over to the closet.
“Zack, don’t.”
He stared up at the gap again, then stepped up on the one box that still remained in place. Because of his greater height, this brought his eyes to the level of the gap, and he peered through it.
I grimaced, knowing what was coming.
He turned to me, his face a mixture of surprise and confusion. Then he looked through the gap again. When he turned back this time, his face was red and I could see the anger in his eyes. He stepped off the box, and stood at the foot of my bed with his arms folded, glaring at me.
I stared at him with timid eyes, waiting for him to speak first.
“How long have you been doing that?”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Of course I’m mad at you. How long?”
“You’ll get madder.”
He took a deep breath. “I won’t get madder. I just want to know.”
“Promise?”
“Lindsay, just tell me.”
“Two years.”
He stared at me. “Two years?”
“Yes.”
“For two years, you’ve been watching me… doing things?”
“Yes.”
I could tell he was fighting to hold his temper.
He took another deep breath and rubbed his forehead, as if he was getting a headache. “Why?”
It wasn’t a question I was expecting. I thought the answer was obvious.
“Because I liked to.”
Despite its obviousness to me, it seemed to surprise him.
“You liked it?”
“Yeah.”
“But what about my privacy?”
“Sorry. I didn’t think you’d find out. And I figured if you didn’t know, you wouldn’t care.”
“What kind of logic is that? What if I was spying on you? How would you feel about that?”
I wanted to tell him I would like that very much, but instead just said, “I don’t know.”
“Come on Lindsay, you know you wouldn’t like it. You would feel like I was invading your privacy, and you’d be right.”
“What about that time you walked into the bathroom when I was getting ready to take a shower?” That had been a good day, and I had masturbated to three orgasms after that incident.
My brother looked flustered. “It’s not the same thing. That was an accident. And I didn’t do it for two years.”
He had a point. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “You’re not sorry. You’re just sorry you got caught. If you hadn’t, you’d still be doing it.”
Another good point. I was losing this debate, so I decided to change the subject.
“Are you gay?”
He stared at me with wide eyes. “What?”
“I saw what you were doing. Are you gay?”
“No, I’m not gay.” The flush had returned to his cheeks, along with his anger.
“Why were you doing that then?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s private. Of course, you wouldn’t understand what that word means.”
“But I don’t understand. How could you do that if you’re not gay?”
He took a deep breath and gave out a resigned sigh. He then moved around to sit on the edge of my bed, looking down at me.
“Lindsay, think of it this way. You touch yourself, right?”
I felt a blush rising in my cheeks. “No, I don’t do that.”
“Lindsay, I just found you with your pants down and your pussy hanging out. Don’t tell me you don’t touch yourself.”
The blush deepened. “Ok, maybe I do.”
“Now, would you ever touch another girl like you touch yourself?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Eww, no way. That’s gross.”
“Why is it gross? Your hand touches your pussy, why can’t it touch someone else’s?”
“Because it belongs to someone else.”
“Exactly.”
“What?”
“It’s the same way with guys. All guys jack off, but that doesn’t mean they want to touch other guys’ cocks.”
I began to see what he was getting at.
“It’s the same with what I was doing,” he continued, “Just because I do that to myself, doesn’t mean I want to do it with other guys.”
I thought it over for a moment, then nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”
“You guess? Lindsay, you know me. Probably a lot better than I thought you did. You know I’m not gay.”
“You’ve been away for five months.”
He chuckled. “People don’t turn gay in five months.”
“You didn’t do that before.”
“I never thought of it.”
“What made you think of it now?”
“My college roommate.”
“Huh?”
He laughed again. “It’s not what you’re thinking. One time I came out of the shower and my towel slipped off, and he caught sight of my dick. I guess he was impressed, because he said, ‘Holy shit, if my cock was that big I’d never leave the house. I’d just stay home and blow myself all day.’”
“I kinda just laughed it off, but it got me thinking, and the next time I was alone I finally worked up enough courage to give it a try.”
Did it feel good?
“Yeah. Weird at first, but nice. Then afterwards, I felt guilty, but I did it the next time and it felt even better.”
“Does that mean you’ve given up girls?”
