Sister Talk (Ss…)
The Character Code Ss is for Big Sister/little sister.
“Huh!” I almost ran into Jill on my way out of the bedroom. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
She giggled, and pushed past me, so I kept going to the bathroom. Washed my hands, then the sweat off my face, wet a washcloth when the water got warm, and wiped between my legs.
Just a quick cat-bath, but other than picking away the hairs stuck to my face with sweat, I didn’t freshen up any more than that. Didn’t think to flush the toilet, since I hadn’t used it, but when I got back to our bedroom door, she sat up.
Nervously, her knees together, and holding her skirt out over her lap. Blushing like mad on her bed. “Where’s your boyfriend?” She said his name, but this isn’t really about him.
“I don’t know,” I looked over at the end of the dresser. Next to my bed, with the blankets tucked in under my pillow, but messed up from squirming around on it. “Where’s my phone?”
She let out a guilty little giggle, and pulled it out from under her pillow. Tucking the blanket back under with her other, and smoothing it out.
“You little snoop!” I took it back, “Stop going through my.”
She didn’t get a chance to switch it off from the page she was on:
She giggled, “You’re sexting.”
“Wh, what?” I shook my head, “What were you looking at, this for?” I turned it around, to show her. For no reason, other than to remind her, of the incriminating images.
“Joy, you play with yourself, huh?”
“I guess,” I sat down, and tapped [x] to close out the browser. Went back to History, and started clearing it. The dirty chat with my boyfriend, while we’re talking. “I didn’t think I needed to keep quiet, with my house to myself.”
She nodded, “How do you, finish?”
“You mean, orgasms?” I looked up, and she nodded, interested. “Well, I. Guess I just.” Don’t know how to talk to her about this. “Huh! You know?” She shook her head. “Well, I guess it helps to have something to think about.”
“Someone to talk to. Someone to talk dirty to you?”
“Well, no. I guess, he likes to talk dirty, to me. When we’re in.” The mood? No, that’s pretty much any chance we get, but we’re teenagers, and she’s only 12.
I stopped shaking my head, and nodded.
“Well, I don’t know who to think about, I guess. I just think about boys and girls, or girls, or boys…”
“Two boys, two gay boys?”
“Kissing!” She nodded, and took a deep breath, sighed, and her face darkened with flush again. “I guess, I don;t have a chance with them, because there gay, so. I guess that makes them safe?”
“Yeah, I guess, but. You like to watch them kissing?”
“Oh no. Not just that, they do way more than just kissing, but it’s nice when they kiss first.” She nodded.
“That’s why you searched for boys kissing?”
“Yeah, huh! They skip right past that, if you don’t put that in.”
“How did you get so good at.” I shook my head, “Never mind, you’re too young to even be on that site, in the first place.”
“I know, but they don’t do it all the time.”
“I probably shouldn’t say.” She shook her head, “He would probably get in trouble, if anybody knew he had a boyfriend, but. Huh, he doesn’t know, I saw them.”
“No, just making out,” she got up, “And feeling each other up,” held her hand up, in front of me, but she stopped just short of touching my blouse. “Well, there boys, so. They don’t have any boobs, but there.” She pointed, with both hands, and sat back down. Crossed her legs, but when I looked down, I saw her underwear.
Kicked under the bed, and I changed the subject. “You better pick those up,” I pointed, “and put them in the hamper before mom comes home, and sees them.”
“Oh!” She looked down, “Yeah, huh?” Bent over to pick them up. Her skirt didn’t flip up to show me, but I just assumed she wasn’t wearing any underwear, either.
“What’s it feel like, when you finish?”
“Huh! Well, I guess that’s the million dollar question now isn’t it?”
“Why’s that?” She looked at the dresser, and her underwear drawer, but just sniffed her panties, made a face, and threw them in the hamper, shaking her head.
“Huh! Well, because. People have been trying to write about that, forever.” I shrugged, “At least as long as they’ve been writing poems, and songs. I suppose they sang about it, before they invented writing, too.”
“You like stories, huh?”
“I guess. You mean sex stories?”
“Yeah, huh?” She nodded.
“You must’ve seen them in my history, when you’re snooping around in my phone.”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t snooping, but you left it on the story, or the chats when you sexted with.” She said my boyfriend’s name. “Or,” she said my last boyfriend’s, “And…”
“Yeah, all right, I get it.” I took a deep breath, “Yeah, I guess I do like it, when they talk dirty, okay?”
She nodded, “Well, I like it when they look at me, it makes it tingle.” She crossed her legs, as if she had to pee, then sat back down.
I stopped nervously fussing with my comforter, so it wouldn’t show that I was squirming around, and moaning out loud, when mom gets home, to tell us to make up the beds.
She sighed, “Huh! I never had a girl look at me like that before, though.” She took another breath, and sighed again. So, I pulled the chair out to sit on, instead of my comforter.
“You want one to, like. A lesbian?”
She shrugged, “I don’t know. I never saw one before, in real life. I don’t know how it would feel, I just wonder, what it’s like?”
“Well, I don’t like it. I mean, huh! I guess, I don’t know any either, but I do know some bi-curious ones. I guess, you think that’s what it is, you’re just a little bi-curious?”
She shrugged, “I don’t know, I just wondered what it would feel like.”
“Uncomfortable.” I nodded. “It made me uncomfortable, so I never talked to her again.”
“Who’s the gay boys you watch kissing so much?”
“Not so much, just 1 time.” She he’d her finger up. “I only caught them making out once, they don’t do it right out in front of everyone!”
“Well, I don’t want to sound homophobic, or anything, but.” Too late, “Huh! I don’t want you going after her, so I’m afraid if I tell you who it was.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me going after anyone. I don’t know whether to run away when boys look at my.” She giggled, and hugged her chest. Then, she got too giggly to go on.
“Yeah, it’s still kinda scary for you, huh?”
She nodded, and started sobering up. “Maybe if it was a girl, it wouldn’t be so scary,” she shrugged, “I guess.”
“Well, you guessed wrong, it’s even worse, if you’re straight.” I’m sure that’s all it is, she’s just bicurious. All though, I never even thought about it, seriously. “I felt so betrayed.” I thought gays, and lesbians always know, but maybe not if they’re bisexual? “You’re just confused.”
“Yeah? Because I don’t know anything, and nobody ever wants to talk about it!”
“Because you’re twelve! I’m sure if you asked mom about it, she’d get the book out for you early.”
“I don’t know, some book about puberty. Some sex education textbook from the seventies.” I looked up, remembering the power flower collars, and bell bottoms. All that 70s hair, and stuff. “I guess.”
“Where’s she keep it?”
“I don’t know, and don’t bother to go looking for it. I don’t want you snooping through their belongings, either.”
“Must be there room anyhow,” she guessed, right. So, I nodded, “Since they keep it locked all the time.”
“Yeah, and I keep my phone locked too, so how’d you figure out my password?”
“I didn’t! Honest, the only time I ever get to use it is when you leave it out, unlocked.”
“Oh,” note to self: Remember to clear the history, and all that before I set it down, from now on.
“Don’t tell mom. And you’re not 18 either, so you shouldn’t be on those dirty story sites either, you know.”
“So? You’re not threatening me, are you?”
“No? You know I’m not a tattletale, and I’d be in just as much trouble with dad for tattling, anyhow.”
“Of course.” He’s always been that way about tattling.
“Does it tingle?”
“When you orgasm?” She nodded, “Yeah, all over.”
“What about your clitoris?”
“Not too much, it’s a good tingle, and not a bad tingle. It doesn’t tingle so much it hurts?”
“Because when I touch my clitoris.” You know, I never even thought about her having a clitoris, before she said that? I mean yeah, she’s a girl, but I guess because she’s my little sister, I don’t think about other girl’s clits, all right? Even when Simone was talking about getting her’s pierced, I just didn’t want to think about it, and now, I don’t want to hang out with Simone any more either.
Not that she got her clit pierced. Just to be clear, she wondered what it would feel like, I bet it would hurt, but that’s not why it made me so uncomfortable, and I can’t just stop being friends with Jill now, because she’s turning. All bicurious, and. She’s not my friend, she’s my sister, my little sister, and she’s way too young to even be thinking about this stuff, when I waited until I was thirteen before I even started thinking about boys. Let alone, other girls. Having feelings about me, like that. I know, I said I was flattered, but I was just being polite, but am i really that homophobic?
“Joyce? Are you okay?”
“No you’re not, you’re bone white, and you’re shaking.” She frowned, and looked me over, but more like a doctor, or mom when I think I might be coming down with something. “And hyperventilating.” She nodded.
“Is that your professional opinion, Doctor?”
“You’re just scared, but why?”
“I’m just afraid you’re going to turn gay, and it’ll be all my fault!” I cover up my face, before I start crying.
“Why? You never did anything, or let me see anything that would make me. A lesbian.” I peeked, when she giggled, and shook her head. “You can’t make somebody a lesbian if they aren’t all ready, even if you tried to, silly.”
“I know! Believe me, I know.”
“Because you’re not one.” She hugged me, and rubbed my arm. “You’re just scared of them, for some reason. Why are you so scared of lesbians?”
“I don’t know?”
“Well, don’t be. They’re not boys, so there not going to make you do anything, you don’t want to. Unless you go to jail, I guess,” she shrugged next to me, “But you’re never going to have to worry about that, because you’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Well, I did go on those adult story sites, and lie about my age.” I started feeling a little better, and stopped crying, quite so hard.
“Huh, yeah. Me too, but I don’t like those stories.”
“I don’t know, maybe because all the girls that write them start off with how big there boobs are, and I bet they lie about that too, because if they really had nice perky 38 double Ds, it’d be just as easy to prove it by taking a picture.”
“Yeah, because they’re not true stories.”
“Well, some of them said they are.”
“Yeah, but they’re fantasies, and a lot of them aren’t even written by women.”
“Oh. So who writes them, girls?” She got up, and nodded, “Oh, now I get it. They wish they had big 38 double D boobs. Just like the girls in the porno movies, because there lonely, and too young to get a real boyfriend, right?”
“No, I’m pretty sure they’re men.”
“Huh?” She shook her head, “That doesn’t make sense, why would men write about being a girl, with bog boobs out to there?”
“I don’t know, but they do. Most stories online are written by men. Why do you think they make so many stupid mistakes?”
“What kinds of mistakes?”
“Well, for one thing, thinking for one minute that any girl is going to start with her bra size. Even if she lies about it, no girl cares so much about bra size. That’s how you can tell he’s a man. They’re the ones that care so much about size.”
“Huh!” She nodded. Then shook her head. “Well, it’s too much reading, so I don’t finish them anyways. I like to look at pictures more, and especially video. A picture’s worth a thousand words, you know.”
“Well, I’d rather have the thousand words.”
“Well, I’d rather watch it. I guess, I can’t imagine being a boy, so. Huh!” She just realized, “Let alone a gay boy, you know what I mean?”
“You really have the hots for gay boys, huh?”
“Well, I didn’t know he was gay when I fell in love with him!”
“Oh, huh! Hahahahahuh!”
“Yeah.” We had a good laugh at that, then mom, and dad got home, so we had to change the subject.
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