Less than a minute after I had finished jerking off in the basement den, my sister, Lauren, walked in on me with a stern, disapproving look on her face.
I scrambled to cover myself and think of some sort of face-saving story. It was pretty pointless though. She strode over to my position on the couch, still dressed in her scrubs from her job as a nurse at Bayard University Medical Center. Lauren didn't say a word. Instead, she bent down and scooped up a dollop of my cum on her right index finger.
"Look, I don't care if you masturbate," she scolded. "But you didn't even put down a towel. Jesus!"
With a pillow over my lap and cock, I stammered an apology.
She held out her finger in front of my face.
"Eat it," Lauren ordered me.
I shook my head 'no.'
"This is my house. I pay the bills. You need to learn a lesson here, so open your mouth," she insisted.
Humiliated and on the verge of bolting the room, I surprised myself and opened my mouth.
Quickly, she wiped her finger on my tongue and said, "Swallow."
I had already started to do that. I wanted it off my tongue as fast as possible, even though the taste wasn't as bad as I had feared it might be. Truth be told, I had taken tiny tastes of my jizz before.
Lauren said, "Good, boy. Don't move." She exited the room and went upstairs.
I didn't. I sat there a little numb with embarrassment, and then leaned over to grab my laptop and shut it down. Lauren was supposed to be working her shift at the medical center, so I had thought it might be a good time to take advantage of the privacy and mix things up a bit, for variety sake. Instead of rubbing one out in my bedroom, also in the basement, I thought I'd stream some porn from my laptop to the big flatscreen in what we called 'family room.' I couldn't have known that they'd been overscheduled at the medical center, sending a handful of junior and new nurses home for the night.
At the time of this new chapter in our lives, Lauren was 10 years older than me and in addition to being my big sister, she had, until my recent 18th birthday, been my legal guardian. Our mother, also a nurse, died in a car wreck six years earlier, and our father ran out on us two years before that. The two of us were the only family we had, our mother being the late-in-life child of two only children, my grandparents. My father was estranged from his family in Massachusetts before he even met our mother.
Being a bit bossy, Lauren had no problem filling the part. Between insurance, some death benefits from my mom's employer and a settlement from the insurer of the driver who hit her, we paid some debts of Lauren's and put away some money for my college.
I graduated six months early from high school after an accelerated and successful academic career. Late that year, I had secured admission and scholarship to the Bayard University Institute for Culinary Arts and Nutritional Science, and shortly after that, Lauren thought it might be a good idea for us to move together from Texas to Central City. Her skills were portable, and Bayard would be a better place for her to pursue continuing medical education.
We sold the house in less than two months and by May we were settled into a new place in CC.
I was just starting to calm down from my embarrassment when Lauren entered the room with a tape measure in her hand. It was the long cloth kind that tailor's and seamstresses use.
"Stand up," she said.
"Why?" I asked, starting to get a little confidence back.
"Because I am going to measure you," she said. "So, lose the pillow."
I was stunned. Why would she need to do that?
She pulled on my wrist, and I stood. I guess I was so compliant just to get the whole episode over with and get back to my room. I'd learned long ago that it was easier to endure her small demands than fight. If it was important, I would fight. Still, being the younger of us two and having only each other at the time, I was emotionally vulnerable, easily manipulated.
Lauren measured my shaft then the circumference of my balls and scrotum and then typed the figures into a note app on her phone.
"Not bad," she said with a wry smile. "How long is it when hard?"
With a gasp of surprise, I protested, "A little over seven. Can I please go to my room?"
"Yeah, get out of here and next time put down a towel and have some tissues handy for fuck's sake." Lauren wiped me down with two she pulled from a pocket.
The cum was drying on my belly and legs. I practically ran to my bedroom in back. When we moved in, Lauren had suggested I take the family room, aka den, small kitchenette, bedroom and bathroom in the basement. Our split level house was cut into a hill and had a basement level two car garage. The remainder of the basement was basically the family room, a utility room, and a mother-in-law apartment or guest room. My bedroom, "the apartment," was small but windowless, which I liked because I was and am a bit of a night owl, as is Lauren. Being able to black out most of the light made it easier to sleep during the day. There was a small closet, a queen-size bed with flanked by two nightstands and not much else. I stared at myself in the mirror on the closet door.
I remember thinking that I had filled out finally, thanks to the gym. I wasn't going to enter and win any bodybuilding competition, but my gamer's pudge was gone. I thought I had an appealing face and a nice body, so I couldn't fully understand why I still was a virgin. I had three dates in my senior year of high school, all miserable. I was awkward with girls socially.
Why had Lauren wanted to measure me? I looked at my flaccid penis and examined them in the mirror and asked myself if anything was wrong with them that would give a nurse pause. I was circumcised, my shaft had a nice heft even when soft and I couldn't see a single blemish on my large sac.
I shook my long black hair in puzzlement, and then wondered if I needed a haircut. I peeked out my door, saw that Lauren was gone and crossed the small hallway to my bathroom to wash up. As I washed, I thought of Lauren and what had just happened. She could be weird, but I could be too sometimes. Since our mother had died, she had definitely felt responsible for me. Sometimes she could be bossy and even cold, but she certainly fell naturally into the maternal role. Both of us were alone in the new city and hadn't yet developed any friends. Maybe that was making her stressed and stranger.
Over the next few days, I tried to forget about it. I wanked a couple of more times but the whole incident had been like a cold shower. When I did, I did it locked in my bedroom. What was new was what I was thinking when I did stroke off. Remembering how Lauren had caught me, what she saw me doing, and her measuring were humiliating but now that humiliation was fueling my libido. I had never been harder. My tastes in porn had been pretty conventional until then - big-breasted porn stars getting fucked by guys with big cocks, blowjob videos. Tentatively, I searched on words and phrases like "caught masturbating" and saw bad actors roleplay scenes similar to what had happened between Lauren and I.
When we moved into our new Central City home, Lauren had told me I didn't have to work. She had told me to enjoy my last few months before the hard work of college began. However, she tasked me with unpacking, keeping the house clean, and generally getting things set up. Lauren also encouraged me to explore the city, get to know it and report back anything I found that was interesting. Of course I also prepared and cooked meals.
For the last several years, I had become almost obsessed with cooking and cooking shows. I wanted to be a master chef and the Bayard program was rigorous and among the top five in the country, including deep exposure to food history, biochemistry and nutrition. So I also read books on the syllabuses of upcoming courses.
It was about a week after my humiliation when Lauren and I had sat down to a late dinner. She told me about her day at work and I told her about a small but fantastic kitchen store I had found in the Yard section of Central City. During a lull in the conversation, Lauren asked me, "Have you been masturbating, David?"
"Why would you ask me that? Christ, Lauren."
She used the excuse that she was worried that her catching me masturbating might have inhibited me sexually.
"It shouldn't, David. Again, it's a natural thing. I get off almost daily," she said.
Although I shouldn't have been surprised, for some reason I was.
"Still, I'd like it if you didn't jack off for the next few days until I tell you to."
