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This was just another little mind game to go insane over for the next few days. My boner still remained, however, and without some porno to help me along, or the desire to get more this early in the morning, I was left with only one option.

I clicked back to the desktop and sighed. Alissa's tits stared back at me. If I did this, I would be crossing a line I might not be able to un-cross. But I wasn't thinking about that. I was thinking about my now-painful boner and making it go away. I reached for the lotion and tissues, gave one last sigh, and got to work.

It took me about 30 seconds. Imagery wasn't hard, and mental stimulation was plentiful on top of the visual. When I started spewing cum into the tissues it was one of the rare times I'd had to stifle a moan in all the years of pleasuring myself. In fact, the orgasm rated up there with the best of them, even the time I'd gone a month in a resolution to get laid and not jerk off. The feeling consumed my entire body, like a wash of pleasure that tingled along all my nerve endings at once.

But just as soon as it subsided, a new wash, this time of guilt, came over me. I looked at Alissa's picture once more, quivering and softening cock still in my right hand, and decided. No more. I deleted the picture, emptied the recycle bin, and circled the next Tuesday in bright red Sharpie on my calendar.


Tuesday came, without any more developments from Alissa. She was a busy girl, I had finally discovered after only just starting to take notice. She was gone most nights of the week doing something, sometimes back for dinner, but rarely. I became quite familiar with her schedule, not out of any desire to see her or spy on her or anything: so that I could avoid her. I had enough trouble not thinking about her running her hands seductively down her naked front. I caught myself going hard in too many embarrassing places.

I didn't leave my room when I heard Alissa arrive home from school. I stayed in there until I heard my parents' car start up and drive off. But I still didn't really know what to say to Alissa, whether I could even piss her off enough or at all.

I was lying on my bed throwing a tennis ball up and down when I heard the pipes in the wall groan and come to life. Water rushed through them noisily, and I could make out the splashing sound of water on tile through the wall. She was in the shower.

My heart started beating faster. I had to seriously fight the temptation to rush to the key-hole and perv on her. After deleting her naked picture from my computer I had been walking around with an urge to see it again, cursing my choice to delete it. I couldn't help it. I had even checked her camera to see if it was still on the memory card. It wasn't.

My self-discipline crumbled. Being as quiet, but as quick, as I could I went to the bathroom door and knelt in position. There she was. The shower cubicle was in the perfect viewing position from the key-hole, with clear glass to boot. She was slightly obscured from the steam fogging up the glass, but not enough to hide any of her best features.

I think she looked better wet. Her skin looked even softer when it was glistening with moisture, and I loved the way the streams of water clung to her curves as it rushed down her body and into the drain. Her hair being wet meant it was out of her face, displaying the perfect proportions even prouder than ever.

My hand went for my pants. I wasn't going to miss the opportunity, and my inhibitions over feeling this way for my sister had a funny way of disappearing in the heat of the moment. But, as if on cue, Alissa reached for the shower head an unhooked it from its clasp. Bringing the head down her body, the flexible pipe wrapped around her figure the way I so wanted to do with my hands. She finally laid the head in her crotch, and her face exploded with pleasure. Her head shot back, mouth opened wide, and she let out a loud moan.

She knew I was watching.

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