A Single Moment
Copyright© 2015 by Reluctant_Sir
Do you believe that a single moment can change a life? That an instant, a split second, can alter destiny? I do and, if you let me tell you my story, you may just believe too.
My sister Becky was five years older than me, she was nineteen, and sometimes I thought that she didn't even know that I existed, but I adored her. My mom said I started following her around the house the day I began walking. I was the adoring little brother and she was the annoyed older sister, used to being a pampered only child and now faced with a younger sibling who was taking her parents' attention.
My mom had a really bad pregnancy with Becky, and the doctor told her that the scarring in her uterus meant she would probably never have another child. When Becky was five, mom got pregnant with me and even though I caused her a lot of grief, I made it through and was delivered by C-section. The scarring from her first pregnancy had scarred her womb so badly that they had even considered aborting me.
Becky had never been cruel to me, preferring to simply ignore me unless our parents made her interact at all. Even as we got older and Becky had to babysit, she would simply pretend that I wasn't there unless I did something to annoy her.
I don't think her reaction to an unwanted sibling was the underlying cause of my almost crippling shyness, but it certainly didn't help. As I got older I preferred books to people, and spent as much time in my room as I was allowed. I wasn't comfortable around the neighborhood kids, didn't have any friends from school and was, as far as most people were concerned, just a bit 'odd'.
I got good grades in school, never really struggling with my classes, but I never raised my hand, never volunteered when a teacher asked for someone to answer a question. I talked to no one, even eating my lunches by myself, watching but not participating in the daily activities.
It wasn't a self-image issue, or not completely. I was a decent looking kid and fairly well put together. I could have played sports and probably done well if the thought of actually having to interact with my teammates hadn't filled me with dread. Even sedate activities like the chess club made me feel queasy.
I remember that I always felt disconnected from people around me. We all spoke the same language, but I always felt like there were subtexts, nuances that I just couldn't understand and it made me nervous. I didn't dislike people, individually, I just couldn't muster up the nerve to break through that barrier and actually get to know any of them.
Things started to change for me, a bit anyway, when I the joy of running during my physical education class in sixth grade. There was something primal, something satisfying, about pounding the pavement for so long that I was exhausted. Running was a solitary exercise, perfect for me, and I think I got hooked on the endorphins that came with a hard workout.
Puberty kicked in about that time as well, and I found myself almost shooting up, hitting five foot, eleven inches and one-hundred, seventy-five pounds by the last quarter of my eighth grade year. I spent many an hour out running, just putting one foot in front of the other, mile after mile. There was something visceral about the wind in my face, the road in front of me and it was like I had a bubble of peace around me as I ran.
Eighth grade was an uncomfortable time for me for several reasons. I had discovered girls and, it seemed, they had discovered me. I had actually had a couple of girls, early in the year, stop me to talk in the hallways between classes.
Try and picture this: I was almost six feet tall, I had been running and exercising religiously for two years. I had black hair and a light olive complexion, Dad being of Greek ancestry and Mom being of Black Irish decent, I had taken after my father and even got his good skin, much to my relief. I wouldn't say I was a handsome kid, but not bad to look at, and though it had always made me nervous, I got my share of looks from the girls at school. The thought of actually talking to a girl made me nauseous.
Now, picture Carla Peters. She was five foot, six inches tall, probably a hundred and twenty pounds of gorgeous, red-headed cheerleader with a smile that would light up a room. She had the nicest ass in school and a set of C-cup breasts that would make any teen's mouth water. She was also an A student and as nice as could be to everyone around her. And she stopped me in the hall to talk.
Yeah, it was a disaster. She had actually stepped up and laid a hand on my chest to get my attention since I tended to walk from class to class with my head down, unwilling to meet the gaze of the other students in the hallway.
"You're Dave Baros, right? You look very fit, and we are desperate to find someone who will be on the cheer squad. We need someone strong for some of the routines, pyramids and stuff like that. Interested?" She had a sweet voice, and I clearly remember getting an instant erection and an almost overwhelming need to throw up. I remember pushing past her and dashing to the boy's bathroom to hurl, but not much else.
Later, years later, Carla would tell me that she remembered my eyes had gotten really wide, I turned white as a sheet and ran off, though she didn't know where. She did admit that she saw the tent in my jeans and had joked with a friend later that it looked like I had stuffed a small dog down the front of my pants.
Smooth was not an adjective that was ever applied to me in those days.
Carla became a favorite fantasy of mine. I would relive the feeling of her hand on my chest many times in the coming year. My other fantasy, my most secret crush, was on Becky, my sister. It shamed and excited me, but Becky had grown into a sultry, sexy woman and I spent many, many showers wondering what she looked like under her clothes.
Her hair was dark like my parents and like mine, but it hung to her waist and was a lustrous, silky mass so black it almost appeared blue in the right light. She had fantastic, olive skin and a set of mouth-watering, D-cup breasts that sat high and proud on her chest. Her thin waist swelled gently into a set of hips that just begged to be grabbed and an ass that made her as sexy going away as she was walking towards you.
She had inherited my mother's good looks, with high cheekbones, gently arched brows and a set of luscious lips that drove the boys crazy. She had always taken great pains with her appearance but had never succumbed to the prima-donna attitude that some pretty girls in school seemed to adopt. She was a genuinely nice person to almost everyone who knew her. Except for me, of course, but even with me she wasn't mean or cruel, simply indifferent.
The moment when things changed, when my world was flipped upside down and everything went crazy, was one of the most embarrassing, mortifying incidents in my short life. Becky knocked on my door.
I was laying on my bed, my dick in hand, stroking to some fantasy I can't recall at the moment, when Becky knocked at my bedroom door. I guess I hadn't closed the door tightly because her knock popped the door open and let it swing wide.
"Dave, Mom said you need to ... oh my god!" Becky stood in the door way, her eyes wide and her hand over her mouth. Her gaze was locked on my cock and time seemed to freeze, to stand still for several moments.
I had been ready to blow and when the door swung open, my orgasm hit and I started to spurt. What I remember most about that moment was the way her eyes tracked the trajectory of that first rope of cum, arcing from the tip of my cock, up into the air at least three feet, and then coming back to splash on my chest.
I panicked, grabbing my pillow and slamming it over my groin, a part of me quailing at the thought of the rest of my cum spurting all over the pillow case, but mostly feeling the shame of being caught, horrified at the expression on my sister's face.
Becky looked back over her shoulder at the hallway, then quickly stepped inside my bedroom and closed the door behind her. She leaned up against the door for a moment and took a big breath. I was scrambling to cover myself and I could feel the blood rushing to my face, my cock wilting in shame.
There was a minute or two of silence, I was terrified at her response and she just stared at me, her eyes locked on mine.
"Um ... Dave? You really should lock your door if you are going to do that. Not that there is anything wrong with masturbating, but you know, I don't think Mom wants to see that." She giggled, a smile on her face. She stepped forward, her expression changing, and her voice dropped to a whisper.
"When did all of this happen?" she asked, a sweeping gesture seemed to encompass my whole body, as if she was seeing me for the first time.
"I knew you ran a lot so you were probably in decent shape, but damn! You are totally buff now, and..." her voice trailed off and she blushed. "Jesus, Dave, did you always have a huge cock?"
"Um..." my witty banter skills were legendary, if by legendary you meant non-existent. This was no exception, and I was absolutely mortified that she had caught me, and totally speechless that she had actually said something about my cock.
"Stand up." Becky ordered, quirking an eyebrow at me. "I want to see. Don't be embarrassed, I am your sister."
"No way! God, Becky, this is embarrassing enough. Please go!"
"Dave, stand up. I want to see." she was strangely insistent, and I felt myself getting hard again, though I was still covered by the sticky pillow. I don't know what made me comply, what made me overcome my shyness, but I stood up, cum still dripping from my chest and the pillow covering my groin, and let her look.
"Drop the pillow, Dave." she ordered, stepping closer.
When I tossed the pillow back on the bed, Becky gasped.
"Jesus Christ, Dave! What the hell happened to my geeky, mousy little brother? You are a fucking Adonis with a horse cock!" She began laughing, though it wasn't a cruel laugh, more delighted than anything.
"I don't get it. Last week you were ... just damn, Dave. Why don't you have a stable of girls beating down your door?" She shook her head, tearing her eyes away from my genitals and meeting my confused gaze. She seemed to see something there because her expression softened.
"I'm sorry, Dave, I didn't mean to embarrass you. You can get cleaned up. Look, when you are dressed, Mom wants you to take out the garbage, but after that, come up to my room. Let's talk, okay?" Becky seemed genuine, like she really wanted to talk to me. She had never, even once, allowed me to enter her room and now she had invited me.
Becky turned and, with a wink, left the room and closed the door behind her. I quickly stripped the pillow case off the pillow and used the dry side to wipe the cum from my chest and threw on a jock strap and my usual baggy sweats. Slipping my feet into some flip-flops, I grabbed a fresh pillow case from the hall closet and buried the dirty one deep in the clothes hamper in the bathroom.
I knocked on Becky's door a few minutes later, heard her say for me to come in and closed the door behind me. Her room was half again as large as mine and was dominated by a large, four-post canopy bed. Her walls held photographs and a couple of movie posters. It smelled ... well, girly. Her makeup table, backed by a large, lighted mirror, was strewn with dozens of little bottles and tubes. Mysterious compacts, lipstick, brushes and other unidentifiable bits of lady junk.
Becky motioned to the chair in front of her makeup table, then perched herself on the bed, sitting crossed legged.
"Dave, I know..." she paused, looking a bit confused. "I know I haven't been much of a sister. I can't believe that you have gotten all grown up and I never even noticed. I feel like a real shit, you know? I don't even know your friends, what you like to do, what your hobbies are, how school is going. I am not sure why though."
I just shrugged, not meeting her eyes.
"Am I that bad? You won't even talk to me. Have I been that much of a bitch? I know I tend to be pretty self-absorbed, but damn." I snuck a look and could see that she looked sad, guilty.
"You are five years older." I said, hesitantly. "You didn't have much time for a creepy little brother. Not much in common or anything."
"You know, when Mom and Dad brought you home, all I could think of was that I wasn't the baby anymore. Here you were, a little miracle, or so they all said, and I just ... I just wanted to be the center of attention." she admitted, shaking her head.
"I guess it was easier to ignore you and, as time passed, it just got easier and easier. Now you are all grown up and I don't even know you. I don't know the first thing about my brother. How fucked up is that?"
"Nothing to know. I am nobody, just a weirdo. I don't have any friends or even any hobbies, except reading and working out. No reason for you to even notice me." I said, trying to ease her mind. She had ignored me, but I had always worshipped her.
Becky's expression was shocked, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
"Jesus, Dave. I have been a really shitty sister, haven't I? You sit there like you are waiting for me to beat you or something, won't even meet my eyes."
"It's okay, Becky." I said, looking into her eyes. "You are so ... well, you are so beautiful and popular, you don't have time for a stupid kid brother."
Evidently it was not the right thing to say, as Becky burst into tears. She slid off the bed and knelt by my side, hugging me to her.
"I want to change that, okay Dave? I want to spend some time with you, get to know you. Can we do that? Can you let me be a real sister?"
I was floored. For fourteen years, she had done her best to avoid me but now she wanted to get to know me? What did I say to something like that?
We ended up sitting on the floor of her bedroom, talking. It took her a while to get me to open up, but for the rest of the afternoon we talked. I confided in her, told her my fears, my dreams, shared how uncomfortable I was around people, how shy and scared I was. Several time we cried together, Becky holding me in her arms and apologizing.
By the time dinner was announced, I felt like I had a friend, a real, true friend and Becky was almost bouncing.
"I am going to be the best big sister ever. I am going to get you out of that shell, out from that rock you have been hiding under. I am going to get you a girlfriend, hell, a dozen of them. When the summer is over and you are a freshman in high school, you are going to be the stud that makes everyone drool." she laughed, teasing me as we headed downstairs.
"I doubt that, but I would be happy just spending a little time with you." I replied, blushing again.
"Trust me, Dave. Why the girls are not howling at the door already, I don't know, but you are going to knock them dead."
Dinner was a trip. My parents were almost silent, sharing shocked looks, as Becky started outlining her plans for me. Becky had never, for as long as they could remember, willingly engaged me at all, much less had plans to spend time with me.
"Becky?" Mom asked, when she could get a word in. "What's going on here?"
Becky looked embarrassed, her shoulders hunched. "I realized today what a shit I had been. I guess I never got over being mad that I wasn't an only child. Then today, I saw ... well, I saw that I had this brother who was almost an adult and I didn't know the first thing about him. We spent all day talking in my room and I want to fix things, I want to be a good big sister."
"I can't begin to tell you how happy that makes me, Becky." Mom said, tears in her eyes. "I gave up, years ago, hoping that you two would be friends."
"I know, Mom. I am so sorry. I never realized." Becky admitted. "Know what I saw today?" she glanced at me, an evil glint in her eye. I silently begged her not to tell, not let my mother know what she had seen.
"He always wears those baggy clothes, doesn't he?" she asked, a smirk on her face. "He looks like a sad sack, right? Take off your shirt, Dave."
I was shocked and shook my head, my face bright red and wished I could shrink into myself, disappear from the table.
"Son," my Father said gently. "Is there something wrong? If it is a medical thing, you should have come to us."
"No, Daddy! It isn't something wrong, it is something right. Something awesome! Dave, take off your shirt, please?" She pleaded with me and, despite being mortified, I couldn't resist the look in her eye. I stood and stripped off my sweatshirt and, because I couldn't bear to meet their eyes, missed the shocked expressions on their faces.
"Damn, son! When you started running and exercising, I never expected anything like this. How much do you work out?"
"Four or five hours a day." I mumbled, sure that there were going to be repercussions. He would make me stop, I was sure of it.
"That seems like a lot, Dave, but it has had tremendous results." his mother murmured, shaking her head. "I had no idea! Why do you wear such baggy clothes when you work so hard to look fantastic?" she asked, bewildered.
"I like to run, I like the way it feels. I don't like ... I am not..." I didn't know how to answer that question. I didn't want people staring at me. I didn't want people talking to me, I never knew what to say.
"Mom, Dave has some serious self-image issues. He is so shy, he has a really hard time relating to people. We talked a lot today, and I think he works out as a way of letting go of his anxiety. Did you know that he doesn't have any friends?"
"May I be excused, please." I sputtered, and practically bolted from the table. I don't think I had been that embarrassed since the incident at the beginning of the year with Carla.
I was back in my room, door closed and locked, doing my best not to hyperventilate when I heard a soft knock on the door.
"Son, can I come in?" My Father was in the hallway.
I unlocked the door and sat on my bed, convinced that this most strange day was ending in disaster.
Dad perched on the edge of my desk, his arms folded but his expression was anything but angry.
"Son, I feel like your mother and I have let you down. You have always been a quiet boy. You are always well behaved, never caused any trouble. You keep to yourself but you get perfect grades in school. I guess we assumed, since you did so well and never got in trouble, that things were going well for you. Sure, there were times when I wanted to throw a ball, or maybe go fishing, but as long as you were happy, I didn't mind too much when you didn't want to do those things.
"I didn't look close enough, Dave, and for that I am very sorry. Look, son, your mother and I love you and we want the best for you. Becky told us some of the things you talked about, and damn if we haven't dropped the ball time and time again. I want to change that, if you will let me."
"You are good parents!" I protested, not at all comfortable with his sudden concern.
"No, Dave, we weren't, but it isn't too late if you will let us help. We want to be a part of your life, just like Becky does. Look, I think you should see someone, a professional. In fact, I would like to see a family counselor, for all of us. It is clear to me that we have issues to work out as a family. Can you do that? Would you, for mine and your mother's sake?"
"Okay, I guess. I don't, like, hate you guys or anything, you know? I love you and Mom."
"And we love you, son, but we haven't been very good parents. Let me see who I can find, and I will set up some appointments, okay? In the mean time, I would like for you to come downstairs to the living room. We want to talk to you, your mother, me and Becky. Would you do that for me?"
"Okay, Dad." I acquiesced, not at all comfortable but not knowing how to demur without hurting their feelings.
We spent all evening just talking, as a family. I never knew that my mother used to be a dancer, than my father had played high school football. I never knew that Becky had gone through a pregnancy scare in high school, having slept with her boyfriend at her senior prom, or that he had dumped her when she told him she might be pregnant.
It was like I was being introduced to these people for the first time, even though I had 'known' them my entire life. It was an eye-opening experience, to say the least. It really drove home to me how withdrawn I had been from the entire family, almost my whole life. When I tried to recall the last time I had actually talked to any of them, it was like there was a blank in my memory. I couldn't even remember what my last birthday had been like, if I had even gotten a present from anyone.
I made up my mind that things had to change. I had missed so much, missed having a family, missed caring about people. I was, frankly, terrified, but I was also determined. Today was going to be the start of something new, something better.
Of course, all the good intentions in the world don't change things overnight. My first appointment with a psychologist was set up for the day summer vacation started, but that was another week away. My last week of middle school started Monday and, even though the weekend had been good, exhausting mentally and emotionally, but good, I still had to face school on Monday.
It was ... different. I had promised Becky to try and keep my head up, to stop walking around hunched over and to try and look people in the eye. This was easier said than done, I had spent my whole life trying to not get noticed, and I wasn't going to become someone new overnight.
I did my best though, and kept reminding myself to meet peoples' gazes, to keep my head up. I was surprised to see that people actually acknowledged me, nodded as we passed. One girl even smiled at me in the hallway, and I turned to see who was behind me that she knew. This caused her to titter, but she waved as I passed by.
It was an eye opening week. Most of the students at school had been there since I was young, I had known them, peripherally, for years, but never spoke to any of them. Yet they all seemed to know me. No one walked up and talked to me, but I could see that it was more about habits that were ingrained, developed over years. I had not welcomed interaction, and they knew that, so they didn't try, but it was a revelation anyway.
What capped my week was Carla. It seemed fitting, somehow, that the disaster that started my year would be revisited at the end.
Math class had long been a favorite of mine. I had always done well, and it had come easily. I seemed to have a knack for visualizing math equations, they seemed to coalesce in my mind and almost solve themselves. It left me a lot of time, during class, to daydream or even work on assignments for other classes. Another reason Math was my favorite class this year was that Carla was there.
When I walked into class on Friday, I stopped inside the door to look around, seeing who was already seated. Carla was there, in her usual seat, and I am not sure what came over me, but I chose a desk next to hers. I had been trying my best, all week, to actually interact with people, though on a very limited scope, and when I sat down and Carla turned to see who had taken that spot, I smiled at her.
The look on her face was one of confusion, though she returned my smile a bright grin of her own.
"Hi, Dave! Something different about you this week." she mused, tilting her head and staring at me.
"Hi." I managed to get out, though it felt like my tongue was starting to swell, and I met her gaze.
"You know, I think that is the first time you have ever said a word to me?" she sounded amused.
"Sorry. Not much of a talker."
She just grinned and turned to face the teacher as the class began.
I was petrified. I had actually talked to Carla. Okay, so it was just a couple of words, but what if she wanted to talk more? What would I say? What if she didn't? Did I make a fool of myself?
I managed to make it through class without having to run to the boy's room, a major victory in my book, and I actually began to fantasize about, someday, holding a real conversation with her, or, hell, any girl.
When class let out, it was our lunch period, I was shocked to see Carla walking alongside of me, silent but definitely with me, not just going the same direction.
When she saw me looking at her, she smiled again. "You don't mind if sit with you at lunch, do you?" she asked.
"Um ... no, of course not."
We got our trays, today was burgers and fries, and Carla selected an empty table. I slid in across from her, not anywhere near comfortable enough to actually sit next to her, and sat there, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"You look nervous, Dave. Did I do something wrong?" Carla asked quietly, her expression intent.
"No, of course not. It's just ... I never... " I didn't know what to say and felt the almost overwhelming urge to bolt out of the cafeteria.
Carla reached over and patted my hand. "It's okay, Dave. Really. I won't make you sit here with me if you aren't comfortable. It's just that we have gone to the same school, been in the same classes, since second grade and I don't know the first thing about you."
"Please stay." I managed to get out, feeling myself blush but also feeling the urge to flee diminish.
"I want to be honest with you, Dave. I hope you don't think too badly of me, but this is not just a coincidence, you know? My older sister Jan is a friend of Becky."
My eyes must have shown my shock, but she reached over and laid her hand over mine, her gaze intent.
"Becky and Jan sat me down yesterday and we had a long talk. I guess you know, by now, that it was about you. Don't worry, she didn't tell me any of your secrets or anything, just that you are very shy and have had a hard time making friends. I was very embarrassed that it took me a while to remember who, exactly, they were talking about, and even more embarrassed when I realized that I have known you my whole life but never really known you.
"I thought that today would be a good day to fix that. I know that it is the last day of school and all, but summer starts tomorrow and I think I would like to get to know you, if that is okay."
She looked earnest, like this was actually something she wanted. Me. She wanted to get to know me. Okay, it was at the urging of Becky and Carla's sister, Jan, but still. I was excited, and not a little terrified, at the notion.
"I think I would like that." I managed to say, though I am sure I was beet red.
"Good!" she chirped, her smile so bright it was blinding. She actually meant it!
"Tomorrow we are having a pool party at my house, it starts at ten in the morning. We will be having barbeque burgers and hot dogs, some games, swimming, music. It will be a lot of fun and I want you to come. Please say you will!"
"Me? At a party? I don't think..." I started to demur, feeling panicked.
"Dave..." she grabbed my hand, holding it in both of hers. "You can do this. I really want you to come. I can introduce you to all the kids you already know." she giggled, and it was strangely calming. "Becky said she will come, and I know Jan is going to be there. It will be a lot of fun. Please?"
"Okay, Carla. But I don't know ... I don't know how to act around people." I blurted out, wanting to slink away.
"Trust your sister, and trust me, okay? We will make sure that everything is cool. You will have fun and that is an order." she said, a mock stern glare on her face. Then she smiled at me again. I am not ashamed to say that, at that point, I would do almost anything to earn a smile from Carla.
"Um ... I, I don't know how to swim, I don't even own a swimsuit." I admitted, embarrassed and ashamed. The thought of parading around in just shorts was terrifying. Even in Gym class, I never showered with others, it being the last class of the day. I would always go home and shower after school.
"Don't worry about it! I am sure that Becky can help you buy a suit, and I will teach you to swim if you want. You can always hang out in the shallow end, and no one will even know."
The rest of the day went by in a haze, and I can't remember a single thing that the teachers said. Finals were over last week and today's classes were spent, for the most part, just chatting and cutting up. The teachers didn't even try to make us be quiet or serious. Gym class was spent with little groups hanging out in the bleachers and talking, the coach staying in his office and doing paperwork.
When the last bell rang, and cheers filled the hallways of the school, it seemed like every kid in the school was rushing for the doors, intent on starting summer just as soon as they could get outside.
I was surprised to see Becky standing there by the curb, her little Miata parked behind her with the top down. She waved when she saw me come out, and rushed to give me a hug.
She had been very demonstrative this week, giving me lots of hugs and often just patting me on the shoulder as she passed, or giving me a kiss on the cheek. I am not ashamed to say that I was eating it up, loving every minute of the attention. Even Mom and Dad were being more touchy-feely, as if the three of them were trying to make up for the years we had been so distant. It was odd at first, but I loved every moment of it, feeling like I actually had a family for the first time.
"Glad to be out of school?" Becky asked, a big grin on her face. "SUMMER!" she yelled, laughing at my expression.
"Come on, you need a swimming suit for the party tomorrow. She did ask you, right?" Becky looked alarmed for a second, but my blush must have told her the story because she smiled and dragged me by the arm to her car.
Becky dragged me to the mall, a place I normally avoided like the plague, and she looped her arm through mine, as though she was afraid I would bolt. She was right, after all, I might have if this had been last Friday.
I was a bit confused when she dragged me into several different stores, each time holding a whispered conversation with one of the sales people, often accompanied by titters or outright stares. I began to wonder if I could really die from embarrassment. At the next store, I worked my courage up and stood close enough to hear her discussion with the sales lady.
"I need a men's swim suit but we have special needs. He is very well endowed and would be embarrassed by something that would show that, so no Speedos. Do you have something that might work for him?" she asked, and I thought I might actually faint when the sales lady smiled like a Cheshire cat and licked her lips. She sauntered over to me, her eyes raking me from head to foot, and took me by the arm.
"I think we might have just the thing, though you might have to try on a couple of different types to be sure."
Becky was standing there, her hand over her mouth and trying to hide her grin at my expression as the sales lady dragged to towards the rear of the store where the dressing rooms where. Becky followed along as if were an everyday occurrence.
They parked me outside the dressing room, and the sales woman, who introduced herself as Carol, was a twenty-something blonde with a very nice figure and a warm smile. She told us to wait while she grabbed some swim trunks, returned in just a couple of minutes with half a dozen pairs of shorts in hand, and pushed me into a fitting room.
"You just try one of those, then come out and we can let you know how it looks, okay?"
Becky just giggled, and made a waving motion, indicating that I should do as told. If looks could kill at that moment, she might have been in a lot of trouble.
The first pair were a pair of surfer style shorts, hanging down to my knees, and were bright yellow. I took off my jeans, but left on my jock, and put the shorts on over it before stepping out of the dressing room.
"You should take your shirt off so we can see what it will look like at the pool, Dave." Becky called, but I just shook my head. Becky walked over and whispered in my ear.
"You are going to have to do it tomorrow. It is just me and the Carol here, and it will help you become used to it, make it easier for the party. Are you wearing your underwear under that suit?"
"No, just a jock. I kinda have to, so ... well, you know."
"Take it off, it will be very uncomfortable when it gets wet, and the swim suits have that mesh there to keep things where they should be." she instructed.
I went back into the fitting room, stripped off my jock and my sweat shirt. Taking a deep breath and gathering my courage, I stepped back out where they could see me.
Becky just stood there, her eyes glued below my waistline, but Carol was looking me over, head to toe. Then, when Carol's eyes reached where Becky was looking, she blushed and smiled.
"I see what you mean. Those won't do at all, not for a middle school pool party. He is fourteen? Really?" she asked Becky, not at all sure that she was not being pranked.
"Yep. You can see the problem." Becky replied.
I looked down and was horrified to see that you could see everything! I could clearly see my shaft and the head of my cock outlined by the thin material. I quickly covered my groin with my hands and dove back into the fitting room. Behind me there were giggles from the ladies. How could Becky do this to me?
I put my jock and my jeans back on, threw my sweatshirt back on as well and gathered the swimsuits up. Stepping back out of the fitting room, my face bright red and, frankly, angry at them for laughing, I decided I was done with this.
Becky saw my face and her own expression fell. She rushed to my side.
"Dave? What's wrong?"
"Becky, how could you do this? I hate even being in the mall, and having the two of you mocking me is not ... it's ... can we go now? Please?" I felt like screaming or crying, or maybe doing both.
Becky grabbed my arm and pushed me into the fitting room, closing the door behind us. It was close quarters, but it wouldn't have mattered because Becky had her arms around me and was hugging me tight.
"Dave, we were not mocking you! Look, I know this is probably hard to hear, coming from your sister, but you are well endowed. Most guys would give an arm and a leg to have a cock like that. We were NOT mocking you! I thought Carol was going to strip her clothes off, drag you in here and fuck you right on the bench over there."
I must have looked confused because Becky continued.
"If the girls at your school knew how big you are, they would have been lined up at your door just to get a taste. You are a very lucky guy! Girls fantasize about a cock like that. No, it is not the most important thing on a man, and a big cock has its own problems, but Jesus, Dave, you got her all turned on out there!"
Okay, now I was embarrassed for a whole new set of reasons. On the plus side, I felt an immense sense of relief that Becky had not been mocking or teasing me. After a week of her being as loving as I could ever imagine, the thought of her mocking me had just about broken my heart. I took a deep breath.
"I thought, well, I guess I thought you were making fun of me. I am sorry, Becky. You have been so good to me this week, and it about killed me when I thought you were being mean."
"Oh, baby brother. That is my fault. I didn't realize that ... well, I assumed you knew that you were bigger than most guys. I never imagined that you might not know! Look, this is a good thing. Hell, if I wasn't your sister, I would have already dragged you to my bedroom so I could try that out for myself." Becky giggled and blushed, hugging me again.
"Will you try on the other suits? We really do want to find you something that fits correctly and doesn't make you feel uncomfortable." She paused for a moment, a fiendish glint in her eye. "I bet that Carol would love to come in here and help you get changed ... she might even show you how much she appreciates your business."
"No!" The thought was more than I could deal with. I could feel blood rushing to my groin and I took several deep breaths. "I'll be out in a minute." I continued, gently pushing her towards the fitting room door.
The next suit was similar in style to the first, but it had a denser mesh insert and seemed to hold things in place better. I stripped my clothes off and changed into the suit, took a deep breath and stepped out again.
Carol and Becky were back in their seats in front of the dressing rooms, their faces composed, but I could see the twinkle in Becky's eye and something a little more predatory in Carol's.
This suit was much better, gathering my equipment into a more confined package instead of displaying it. Both of the ladies agreed, but Carol piped up.
"Are you sure you won't try on the Speedo?" she asked, a grin on her face. "I would be happy to find you one that fits just right." she continued with a wink.
"Thanks, Carol, but I think this one will do for now. I'll be sure to send him back to you if he needs any special assistance in the future." Becky said with a grin, also winking at me.
"Aw shucks. This has been the most fun I've had all week! Okay then, let's get you dressed and I'll ring up your purchase."
After we left the store, Becky steered me towards the food court, her arm still in mine, and was chortling.
"Did you see her drooling over you, little brother? She wanted to get her hands, and her other parts, on you in the worst way. You could go back there later, if you wanted, and I am sure she would give you her number." Becky teased me, laughing at my shocked expression.
"Let's get a soda, and then we really should get you some clothes that fit. You need some self-confidence, and let me tell you from experience that looking good helps you feel good. Those baggy clothes you use to hide from the world need to go!"
Becky knew how to look good, she was a beauty and had always taken pains with her appearance. She had fashion sense and always seemed to be on the cutting edge. I wasn't sure how that would translate into guy's stuff, but I was willing to trust her.
"How am I going to pay for all of this? I have my allowance I have saved up, but I don't think I have enough for a lot of new clothes. I mostly just get my sweats at Target, except for my shoes. The cost a lot because I have to get good ones so my feet don't hurt running."
"Mom gave me her credit card and her permission to get you a whole new wardrobe, if I could convince you to do it ... you will let me, right? I love shopping, and I am having a lot of fun being here with you." Becky smiled, and I knew I didn't have much choice.
"Okay, I'm trusting you, Becky."
She just smiled again, and hugged my arm.
The pool party started the next morning at ten in the morning, but Becky had me up at eight, spending almost an hour just going through the clothes we had bought and choosing an outfit for me to wear. Things were a lot easier when I just wore sweats.
She finally decided on a pair of khaki pants, a blue polo shirt and some oil-rubbed loafers. We had a bit of an argument, which she won, of course, about my jock. I wore jock straps to keep everything neatly packaged but the jock strap left very definite lines in the khakis and Becky insisted that I not wear it. She had purchased boxer briefs for me, and though I hated wearing underwear, I agreed to wear them at her insistence. I just prayed that I didn't get one of my all-too-frequent erections. The results would be very noticeable.
The only problem remaining, according to her, was my hair.
"Jeeze, Dave! It looks like you hacked off your hair with a dull butter knife. When is the last time you had a haircut? Never mind, just get your wallet, put your trunks and a towel in my bag. We need to get going if we are going to get that taken care of before the party."
I guess I didn't get a say in the matter, and we were on the road in minutes. She took me to a beauty salon, which confused the hell out of me, but she seemed to know the people there and I was pushed into a chair that looked like it belonged in a dentist's office.
Before I knew it, I was draped with a cloth and leaning backwards, a blonde with the biggest breasts I had ever seen up close was washing my hair and dragging her boobs across my face. It was a good thing they had had draped me in a protective cloth or I would have been even more embarrassed.
I have to admit though, when they were done I looked like a whole new person. They hadn't done anything weird, no spiky crap or anything, just a haircut that seemed to fit my head pretty well, and a new part on the side instead of the middle where it used to be. My hair still reached my collar, but I wasn't sure if it was long enough for a ponytail any more. I would have to think about a sweatband or something to keep my hair out of my face when I was running.
When I stood up and got a look at the whole new package in the mirror, I was pleased. Surprised, but pleased. I looked almost nothing like I remembered. I had a trim, swimmer's physique and the clothes Becky picked out seemed to emphasize that. A pants hugged my legs like a second skin, but the soft khaki felt much more comfortable than I had feared. My legs looked pretty good!
I had a thirty inch waist and my shirt was just right, hugging my torso and seemed to make my shoulders look wider. The short sleeve cuffs seemed to hug my biceps, making them look bigger than they were. The new haircut seemed to be the finishing touch and I was shocked to see that I didn't look all that different from the guys you see modeling clothes in the magazines. I wasn't as good looking as those guys, but I wasn't half bad.
Becky was beaming, and gave a hug to the woman who had cut my hair.
"Diana, you did good, girl! Damn, who knew my little brother was such a stud?"
"Becky, you can just leave him here for a while, if you want. I'll take real good care of him!" Diana laughed, leering at me. Even though I knew she was kidding, it did feel kinda neat.
The good feelings lasted until we pulled into the driveway in front of Carla's house. Mom and Dad made decent money. He was an engineer for Boeing and Mom was a registered nurse, but Carla's parents were money.
The house was a veritable mansion, surrounded by a stone wall and hedges, it looked like something from Gone with the Wind, except done in marble. There were a dozen cars in the driveway, and room for a dozen more without crowding. Several people had arrived minutes before we had, and I saw Carla standing on the front steps, greeting her visitors.
Standing next to Carla was an older woman, probably about Mom's age, and she was stunning. Next to her was an equally stunning redhead who had to be Jen, Carla's older sister. I couldn't image three more beautiful redheads, and there they were. I thought I was going to pass out.
All of the confidence I thought I had been building, all of the good feelings I had been feeling at the salon, all evaporated in an instant. Suddenly, it felt like I couldn't breathe, like I was going be nauseous and it felt like the world was spinning. I couldn't do this, I couldn't go in there.
Becky seemed to sense what I was feeling, the panic that was taking over. She reached across the center console and grabbed my face in both hands, forcing my eyes to meet hers.
"You can do this, little brother. You are going to be the best looking, most desirable hunk at this party. You are going to go in there and own this place. Take a deep breath." she ordered, her eyes locked on mind and her voice full of love and confidence. "Good, now take another one ... just relax. I know you are nervous, but just smile. Fake it until you make it, ever hear that before?"
I could do this. I felt like I could breathe again, and I knew that I could do this, if for no other reason than to please Becky. I was scared shitless, terrified at the thought of being in there with all those people I didn't know, but for Becky, I would try.
"Becky!" Jan was bouncing down the steps and over to the car, throwing her arms around Becky and kissing her on the cheek. Hanging on to one of her arms, she swung around and smiled at me.
"This must be Dave! Welcome, Dave, I have heard so many good things about you from Becky and we are so glad you could come today!" Jan had a million watt smile just like Carla's, and any guy who could resist that smile was already dead. I did my best to smile back, nodding instead of trusting my voice.
"Carla has been waiting for you ... oh, here she comes now!" Carla and the woman who was obviously her mother, were walking up to Becky's car, welcoming smiles on both faces.
Carla came to my side of the car and gave me a hug, then kissed my cheek. I could feel the blood rushing to my face, but I forced myself to breath and smile at her.
"Dave, I am so stoked that you came! You look fantastic! I never imagined you without your sweats. I have to say, you clean up very nice indeed!"
Okay, now I was going to pass out again, but before I could work up a good panic, Carla was urging me to step forward.
"Dave, this is my mother, Cynthia. Mom, this is Dave. We have been going to school together since second grade, but we never really got to know one another. Jan and Becky are best friends, so I made it a point to ask Dave to come to the party. Now I am especially glad!" Carla winked at me and her mother smiled, offering her hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Dave. Becky had been here so often, I offered her a room of her own, but why has she never brought you with her?"
"Well..." I stammered. "Becky is in college, and she doesn't need her baby brother hanging around."
"Cynthia, the truth is something quite different." Becky circled the car and took my arm. "I finally realized what an insensitive brat I was being, ignoring my brother. This week I came to my senses and we are trying to reconnect, build a good relationship. Dave is wonderful man and even if he is too shy for his own good, I should have been a better sister." Her eyes were bright, the pain on her face was evident.
I put my arm around her shoulders, hugging her to me.
"It is not Becky's fault." I insisted, feeling protective. "People make me uncomfortable so I hide in my room. It's easier." I admitted, sure that my blush was going to become permanent as much as it seemed to live on my face.
"Well, we are ecstatic to see you here, and more than happy that you and your sister are working on this together. We adore Becky, she is like family and she obviously loves you, so you are welcome here any time too." Cynthia said, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Carla and Jan were both beaming at me and I swear, if Becky had not had a good grip on my arm, I would have just floated away.
The inside of their home was as opulent as the outside suggested, including a grand staircase that swept from the entryway up to the second floor. Jan and Carla gave us the five penny tour, and then Jan and Becky peeled off, heading upstairs while Carla kept hold on my arm, leading me through the house to the rear.
Outside in the back was an Olympic sized pool, a separate pool house and a scattering of tables and loungers. There were a dozen people already out there, some in swimwear and other still dressed in street clothes. People were entering the pool house dressed and coming back out in swimwear.
Carla led me around the pool and the next ten minutes were a blur of faces and names, most of which I forgot immediately. Everyone seemed friendly enough, and a few of them actually looked shocked, recognizing my name but not associating it with who I was today.
"Wait, Dave Baros, the quiet guy who wears sweats every day to school. The guy that never, ever speaks up in class. That's you?" The girl asking the question was Diana Huff, an eighth grader who had moved here last year. She was a cheerleader and class vice-president, a very popular girl all around.
I didn't say a word, completely flustered, but Carla was her usual, irrepressible self.
"Yep! This is Dave. Who knew he was hiding all of this under those sweats?" she said with a big grin and a squeeze of his arm.
"I'll say! Damn, Dave, you should have showed us the good earlier. It would have been a more interesting year at school!" Diana grinned, sizing him up.
"Behave, Diana. Dave is here as my guest today. Maybe, if you are nice, I will share him later, let him dance with you." Carla said with a grin, leading Dave off towards the next group.
"Dance?" I asked, more certain than ever that I was way, way out of my depth. Dancing?
Carla grinned at me. "Don't worry, Dave, I'll protect you." she laughed and hugged my arm.
"I know this is strange for you, and I can only image how difficult it must be, but you are doing fantastic and I promise to stick by your side today, okay?" She had a very earnest expression on her face and I could tell that she really cared if I had a good time or not.
"You shouldn't have to babysit a basket case, Carla. What about a boyfriend? Isn't he going to want you with him today?" I felt guilty about monopolizing the hostess. Besides, if she stuck close, escaping early would be out of the question.
"Dave Baros!" Carla looked angry now as she released me arm and spun to face me, a finger poking me in the chest.
"First, there is no boyfriend. Second, you are not a basket case and I don't want to hear that crap out of you for the rest of the day. I am spending time with you because I want to spend time with you. Is that so hard to understand.?"
"Yeah, yeah it is." I admitted, feeling even more guilty. Then I got a little angry.
"Look, Carla, you are a gorgeous, wonderful girl, but I know who I am. I am the weirdo that no one talks to. The kid who everyone avoids because he can't string two words together without stuttering. I am the loner with no friends whose own family forgot he even existed, so yeah, It is hard to understand." I could feel the tears building up and my hand start to shake. I just wanted out of there.
"You think I am gorgeous?" Carla asked softly, her question making her sound as if she were just a little girl, her eyes on mine and a feeling like the whole universe depended on the answer to that simple question.
I don't know how she did it, but she short circuited my entire brain in that moment. All of my panic, my fear, my anger all evaporated and all that was left was a desire to see her smile gain.
"Of course I do. You are the prettiest girl in the whole school. Heck, I would be willing to bet that you are the prettiest in the whole city." I admitted, feeling silly saying things like that out loud.
Carla put her hands on my shoulders, stood up on the tips of her toes and pressed her lips to mine. It was electric. I felt a shock travel through my whole body, down to my toes, and back again.
"Thank you, Dave." she whispered, her eyes locked on mine. She laid her head on my chest as she hugged me, and I was lost. It was like someone applied a cattle prod to my prostate. My cock went from flaccid and snug to iron hard in a heartbeat, the rush of blood leaving me feeling momentarily dizzy.
"Oh!" a little peep from Carla and a shift as she pulled away a bit, looking down between us. "Oh!" she said again, her voice lower this time. She blushed, and looked up at me. "You really did mean it!" she said with a grin, her blush deepening.
"I'm so..." I started to apologize, absolutely sure that she was going to be mortally offended but a single finger on my lips stopped me mid-word.
"Don't you dare apologize for ... for that." She smiled at me, then kissed me again, this time a bit harder, her tongue flicking out to taste my lips for a second.
"Why don't we sit down over here for a minute." she said, pointing to a lounger. "Wouldn't want Diane to get a look, I wouldn't get a single dance with you tonight." she giggled, dragging me to the lounge chair and pushing back until I was seated.
Carla crawled into my lap and snuggled up with me, her head on my shoulder. "You don't mind, do you?" she asked, sighing contentedly.
"Um., ... no, not at all." I managed to get out, though how this was supposed to let things settle down, I had no idea. Her firm, warm ass was planted square on my erection and it was not going anywhere, anytime soon. When she wiggled a bit, getting more comfortable and actually rubbing against it, I was shocked that I didn't cum right there on the spot.
"I really shouldn't tease you like this, Dave." Carla whispered into my neck, her head nestled into the hollow where my neck and shoulder met.
"I don't think sitting here will actually help the situation, but I just couldn't resist. How have you managed to ... um, go unnoticed all this time?" she asked, a tone of wonder in her voice.
"I have special ... um ... I usually wear ... but, new pants and Becky said not to so..." I was totally tongue tied, unable to get a full sentence out and I knew, I just knew I was going to expire right then and there.
Carla was still and quiet for a moment, obviously trying to parse my fragmented words together.
"I think I understand." she murmured, "You wear like a jock or something, right? And Becky said it would show under those khakis. She was right, you know. You have a really cute butt and it would have looked funny."
Did she really just say that?
"Um ... thanks?"
She giggled again, and I could feel it through my chest. It did interesting things to her anatomy, and I could feel her breasts move under her blouse. Definitely not something that would help with an wayward erection.
"I have a confession to make." She said, her voice low. "I invited you as a favor to Becky, because she and Jan are best friends and I like her. You always seemed nice enough, if shy, but when you got out of her car, I was fascinated. I couldn't believe you were the same boy I talked to yesterday. I barely know you, but I knew one thing right away, I was going to get a kiss today if it killed me."
She pulled back a bit, looking up at me.
"Does that make me a bad person? I mean, I must come across as pretty slutty to make that kind of assumption about a guy I just met." She sounded worried.
"Carla, how would I know? I am a misfit, and I know it. Hell, I have had a crush on you for three years. You are the only girl in the whole school who ever had a nice word to say to me. You are the only girl who ever even said hello. I would have streaked naked through the cafeteria for a chance to hold your hand." I admitted, shocked at myself.
She laughed loudly, drawing several stares as she threw her arms around my neck and kissed me on the cheek.
"That would have been quite a sight, by the feel of things." she said, smiling up at me.
I just blushed again. Of course.
"Changing the subject, you brought swim trunks, right?" she asked, laying her head back down on my shoulder. "I should let you get changed and ... um ... cool off."
I couldn't help but laugh. This girl was something else.
"I did, but Becky has them in her bag along with my towel. I'll have to wait until she comes out, I guess."
Carla put her hands on my chest and pushed herself upright on my lap.
"I'll go and find her." she offered. When she went to stand up, she placed her hands on my thighs, one hand directly in contact with my erection.
"Oh!" she cheeped again, blushing, but I noticed that she didn't immediately move her hand. She let her finger tips trail along the length of my cock, where it was trapped along my inner thigh, and then bit her lip, her eyes bright with humor.
"Ooops." she grinned unrepentantly. "I'll be right back."
Oh. My. Fucking. God. What the hell? Carla, the hottest girl in school, my most frequent masturbation fantasy, just copped a feel. It was like I was in some alternate universe.
I sat, my knees bent, though it was painful as hell, and tried to will my erection away. I was mostly successful, though there was a quarter-sized damp spot on my khakis. She was gone almost ten minutes by the time she returned with my trunks and towel. She quirked an eyebrow at me, obviously checking to see if everything was okay.
I just nodded and stood, carefully holding the towel and trunks to hide the spot. Carla let me to the pool house, explaining that there were lockers inside where I could store my clothes after I changed.
"I'll meet you right here in just a minute. I need to change too!" she said, darting into the door marked "Women".
Inside, it looked like a school locker room, though quite a bit smaller. There were half a dozen individual showers, all with curtains for privacy. There were three toilet stalls and a long urinal as well as a couple of benches where you could sit to tie your shoes.
It was empty and, it occurred to me in a flash, there was a good reason for it to be empty. I hadn't seen a single guy at the party except for me. Not one! Damn that Becky. Her words in the car came back to me, "You will be the biggest hunk at the party!" she said. Sure I will, it is easy if you are the only guy here! What the fuck?