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Mark arrived home to find his mother heading out the door. She was walking to her car, still dressed in her work outfit and moving in a brisk pace.
"Mark, there you are." His mother said as she threw her purse into the car and across the seat.
"What's up, Mom?" Mark asked.
"I'm was supposed to have met your father over twenty minutes ago for dinner, so I'm running late." She said, busily starting the car.
"Oh."
"Now listen, I left some money on the kitchen table for you and Sara to order some food. Sara's over at Sally's house but I've already told her to be home by seven." She rattled off.
"Where are you two going?" Mark asked.
"Well I'm not sure yet, we're going out with John's boss and then we're supposed to go to a party, so... ?" She had the frantic look of not really wanting to do this but feeling obligated.
"All right, Mom. Have a good time." Mark gave her a slight wave as she spend out the driveway.
Mark made his way into the house, stopping by the kitchen to find the money on the table. He went ahead, grabbing the phone, and ordered a pizza pie for delivery then plopped himself down onto the family room couch to watch some television. It was about a half hour later when Mark heard the doorbell ring, the food had arrived but Sara wasn't home yet. After paying for the pie, he took it into the kitchen and set it down on the counter, glancing over at the kitchen clock to see the time.
"7:30... good thing for Sara that Dad isn't here. I'd have gotten holy hell for being late when I was her age." Mark thought to himself.
Not bothering to fix himself a plate, Mark stood at the counter eating the pizza from the box. He was finishing up a second slice when he heard Sara come in the front door. She passed by the kitchen door and noticed Mark standing at the counter, tossing him a look of puzzlement as to why he would be eating that way.
"Dinner?" She asked him.
"Mmm..." He nodded in reply, chewing on another slice of the pie.
"God, you eat like an animal sometimes." Sara remarked, loosing whatever appetite she'd had watching Mark inhale his food. Her remark garnered a few token grunts from Mark, and an exaggerated facial expression as well. It was enough to drive Sara away, heading down the hallway to her room, much to Mark's amusement.
Mark packed up the rest of the pizza, tossing the box into the refrigerator, and sat back down on the family room sofa, content with a full belly. He surfed around the tube for a while, not finding anything interesting to watch when Sara walked in and sat down in the lounge chair.
"What'cha watching?" She asked.
"Nothing." Mark replied.
He flipped through the channels again to no avail, settling on one of the music video channels. The two sat and watched for a while, neither saying much to the other, until Sara stood up out of her chair.
"How late are Mom and Dad gonna be?" She asked.
"Mom said probably late, they're going to some party at Dad's boss's house or something." Mark answered her.
"Oh." Was all she said, walking out of the room and down the hall.
Mark turned his attention back to the tube but quickly tired of finding nothing to watch. He headed for his room, hoping to find something of interest to do, and as he passed by the bathroom across the hall from his door he could hear the sounds of Sara lightly singing to herself in the shower. He plopped himself down onto his bed and flicked the lamp on his night stand, kicking off his shoes and socks and picked up a magazine that lay on the stand. He lay there in his bed, staring at the magazine but scarcely read a word; distracted by the sounds of his kid sister across the hall. He could hear her in the shower and couldn't help himself but to begin visualizing what she might look like.
"She looked pretty incredible in that bathing suit..." He thought to himself, remembering the supple curve of her hips, the smoothness of her skin and the enticingly ample size of her breasts; and he found himself getting an erection. Mark stepped up off of his bed and walked to close the door to his room when the bathroom door across the hall swung open. Sara stepped out into the hallway, wearing only a towel wrapped around her midsection, and drying her hair with another. Mark felt a bit awkward, unconsciously envisioning what he'd been daydreaming about just a moment ago, as he stared at her. Sara jumped with a startle when she realized that Mark was looking at her.
"Jesus, Mark! You scared me!" Sara giggled out.
"Ummm... sorry." Mark replied, slowly closing his door. He retreated back to his bed, feeling incredibly horny but a bit reluctant to do anything about it just yet. As he lay on his bed, thinking of Sara, fighting the urge to slip off his shorts and grapple himself, there was a knock at the door.
"Mark... ?" He heard Sara softly call out.
"Yeah... I mean come in." He replied.
Sara opened the door slowly, stepping in cautiously. She had her hair wrapped in a towel, turban style, and had put on a nightshirt; long and loose but made of a soft thin cotton that acted almost as a second skin. She nervously stepped into Marks room, looking around as if to see if anyone else was there.
"What cha doin?" She asked.
"Nothing, really. Just sitting here." He replied, uncomfortable with the idea of telling the truth to her. "What's up?"
"Oh... nothing much. I just wanted to say hello... you know." She answered.
There was a long pause of silence between them, Sara just milling about Mark's room, looking at his effects curiously. He watched her as she wandered about, soaking in the view of her nervously as she turned her back to him, looking at the curios on his desk.
"Mark... can I ask you a question?" She asked, still turned away from him.
"Ummm... sure." He replied, embarrassed by the nervous tone of his own voice.
Sara turned around to look at him, standing with her hands nervously pinching at the sides of her nightshirt. "Mark... I was just wondering... I mean..."
Mark could easily see the anxiety in her face, her skin slightly flushed.
"What I mean is... ummm... do you think... uhh... " Sara paused again.
"Yes?" Mark asked, trying to relieve her tension.
"Well, how often do you think about sex?" She finally blurted out.
"How often do I think about sex?" Mark laughed out in response.
"Mark!" Sara snapped, obviously hurt by his reaction to her question.
"I'm... I'm sorry, Sara. I didn't mean it like that." He apologized.
"I'm serious," She said, "... really."
"Jeez, I don't know. I never really thought about it. Why?" Mark responded, unable to admit to Sara that he thought about it almost 24 hours a day.
"Well... because... , " Sara paused for a moment trying to muster up a little courage, "... 'cause ever since the day when... well you know... I've been thinking about it alot."
"Alot?" Mark asked; his curiosity piqued.
"Yeah." Her nervousness seemed to fade as she saw his interest. "Like... constantly. I mean, it's all I seem to think about."
"Really?" He replied, in a more suggestive tone.
"Well... yeah." Sara admitted, loosening her grip on her shirt and relaxing her stance a little.
"Well..." Mark started, pausing for a moment to think, "... what do you think about?"
"Ummm... well..." Sara started, finding herself pausing when her began to blush.
"Go ahead, you can tell me." Mark encouraged her.
"Well... I've been thinking about what you were doing the other day and..." She paused again, looking to Mark for reassurance. He said nothing, just gave her a nod of approval and she continued. "And... well, how it made me feel."
"Oh." Was all that Mark replied, unsure of what Sara meant by it. Sara stood silently, unsure herself of what to say.
"How did it make you feel?" Mark asked with nervous curiosity.
"Well... weird." She saw the look on his face turn to one of trepidation, and she quickly continued on, "I mean, not like a bad weird, but more like a good weird... kind of tingly all over, you know?" Mark began to relax a bit, seeing that she was looking for approval, or validation of her feelings.
"Did you like feeling... tingly all over?" Mark asked, again curious.
"Sort of..." She replied, looking at him with nervous eyes, "I guess?"
"Oh." Mark said, again unsure of what to say. He was still laying on his bed, unmoving with tension, looking at Sara as she stood silently near the foot of his bed; equally as nervous. Mark felt uneasy looking at her, but found it difficult not to stare; wanting desperately to undress her with his eyes. Sara stood motionless, looking only at the foot of his bed, when she took in a deep breath.
"Mark?" She asked, holding her breath at the same time.
Mark lay silently, looking at her face, waiting anxiously to hear her question.
"Do you want to..." She paused as she looked up into his gaze, "... you know..."
Mark didn't know. At least, he couldn't be positive what it was that she wanted but he definitely knew that he was feeling a rapidly growing sexual tension inside. His mind was racing with questions, as well as his urges, but he lay frozen in a moment of indecision.
"I mean... if you feel like it... ?" Sara continued nervously. Her eyes moved from his and slowly meandered down to his waist, and she nervously bit her bottom lip; concerned that she was asking too much, to directly.
The anticipation in her voice was enough to convince Mark that Sara indeed wanted a repeat performance of his little pool side show, and it was enough to consolidate his courage. Slowly, and without saying a word, Mark sat up in his bed and lifted off his T-shirt, then gently laid himself back down, resting his head on his pillow. Sara stood still and silent, her eyes growing wide and her lips began to smile, reassuring Mark that he was exciting her. She watched Mark reach to his waist and begin to unbutton his shorts, gently arching his back to slip off his pants and kicked them onto the floor. He paused for a moment, noticing the stare of delight in her eyes as they were fixed on his body.
She took a small step toward the corner of his bed, all the while never moving her eyes from him. As she took another small step closer to the bed, she began to notice the growing bulge of his underwear.
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