Live & Learn – (pt. 1)

I woke up and lay still for a while, counting by the seconds it took for my eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. I vehemently blinked away the cloudiness that threatened to envelop my eyes again, to force me back into sleep, and soon the familiar lines and shapes of my bedroom made themselves clear, lit by a small diffusion of moonlight through the window. With clarity returned to my sight, the rest of my body began to follow this woken state. I felt water on my forehead, and then recognised the uncomfortable sensation of sweat between my skin and the sheets of my bed. Bringing my muscles into action, I pushed the covers aside and spread my arms and legs out wide. The air was fractionally cooler, and I basked for a moment in this minimal drop of temperature, but soon began to feel clammy and oppressed once more. I sat up, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and looked for the time. “3:11” twinkled in red upon the alarm clock, and I instinctively yawned in recognition of the early hours. My throat felt dry, and perspiration still dripped from my skin, so I pushed myself off the bed and carefully walked my way over to my bedroom door and opened it. The light from a single standard-lamp was enough to make my eyelids mechanically close against the sudden brightness. I waited a couple of seconds before opening them again and, slightly squinting, made my way to the bathroom.

It took several mouthfuls of cold water to soothe my throat, and several more sprinklings upon my body to ease the heat away. As I ran my wet hands through my short hair, I looked at myself in the mirror. Staring back at me was an eighteen-year old male in his black boxer shorts; brown eyes, brown hair; smooth white skin on a well-toned, six-foot tall body. “I’m not unattractive,” I thought to myself, “just not every girl’s dream”. I sighed and walked out.

Avoiding the floorboards around my parents’ door that would unquestionably creak and wake them, I gingerly made my way back across the landing to my room. As I stepped in, I heard a laugh from behind, followed quickly by several urgent hushings. My immediate confusion lasted for just a short moment: my younger sister, having just celebrated her seventeenth birthday, had invited two friends to stay over for the night. No doubt the three of them had also been woken by the heat of the night or, perhaps more likely, they had yet to even attempt sleep. I stepped once more into my room, and again heard giggles, followed by nervous murmurs. Paranoid thoughts soon flew through my mind: my sister’s friends were probably watching me through her bedroom door’s keyhole. Already feeling agitated by the warmth, this new fact irritated me further. With no little annoyance, I marched to her door and knelt down to look through the hole – hoping to scare and surprise the peeping eye.

No eye stared back. Instead, I could see into my sister’s well-lit room, where she and friends sat cross-legged on the floor; whispering to one-another, and occasionally struggling to stifle girly titters. I watched them for a moment. My sister was… just Nicola. Just Nic: my sister and forever only my sister. We had always got along fairly well, but never considered our bond as ‘close’. Visually, she was neither ugly nor beautiful, at least not to me. In part, I suppose, I recognised that her slim figure and long blonde hair would be of interest to a great many males – and I knew some of them had already done their best to explore her body as much as possible – but our own relationship had always been built on a foundation of companionable sibling rivalry. Besides, as I continued to spy through the door, I became more interested in watching her two friends.

Emma I knew reasonably well, for she had stayed with my sister a few times before – but we had never spoken. I had noticed her slim body several times, and several more times her ample breasts. Tonight, however, I was able to see more of this svelte girl. Her legs – long, smooth and pale – curved lithely at her knees as she sat on the floor, and ran up to a pair of small pink shorts. Her tummy, again firm and flat, was bared below a tiny pyjama top that did very little to keep her chest controlled – her laughs causing pleasing bounces. Cascading to her shoulders hung silky brown hair, framing a striking face that’s proudest feature was a pair of soft, inviting lips. This girl, I knew from friends, had quite a reputation. On the surface, and therefore to everyone’s parents, she seemed merely friendly – a nice girl that was polite to everyone and behaved well. But she was not unknown in gossip. Indeed, not a day went past when a different guy at college would proclaim what Emma had done to him the night before. She was, to put it bluntly, a slut… and everyone knew it. She herself even accepted it.

Deeply lost in my thoughts and in the wondrous sights, I had forgotten where I was, and it was an innocuous creak from downstairs that brought me back to reality: kneeling, at three in the morning, outside my sister’s door, spying on three girls, and now with an obvious bulge in my shorts. To let myself be caught like this would be disastrous. Practically life-threatening. My sister and her friends were not a problem – I could easily see if they approached my prying position and thus make a quick getaway. But my parents were a law unto themselves; able, at any moment, to open their door to a sight no mother or father wishes to see.

And yet… and yet I could not quite draw myself away. I decided to allow myself at least a few seconds more. At least a few minutes. At least enough time to watch Amy. I put my face back against the door, and looked through the keyhole once more – my hand, almost operating instinctively, moved to my groin to provide some slight relief.

Amy was shorter than both Emma and Nicola, and her breasts were smaller too, but everything was perfectly proportioned.