His closed eyes shut even tighter, his body went rigid and arched, his breathing stopped as the first spurt of his come landed on his chest, the second just above his navel, and the third and last simply slid out and down his cock onto his thumb. For a moment he stayed thus, motionless, but then, with a sudden gulp of air, his body relaxed onto his bed.

He heard a noise, or thought he did, and his eyes shot open. Nothing! Except "Why is my door open?" he thought. And then he remembered that his mother had left it open after she had woke him earlier, to remind him to cut the lawn, and to tell him she was leaving for her Gardening Club meeting. "And Dad's probably golfing," he thought and relaxed again, pulling the sheet over his nude body. He thought of the lawn, and of Karen, and then drifted off to sleep. He loved Saturdays.

Another noise, a crash really, and a shout, and he was instantly awake and out of bed on an initial rush of adrenaline, and then he froze, crouched like a runner, his arm extended, his hand on the bed for balance. And then the source of the commotion penetrated his brain, and he relaxed with a sigh, slumping onto the edge of the bed, his face covered with beads of perspiration. His sister Cathy must have dropped a pot or pan in the kitchen. He still hadn't adjusted to having her home again, it had only been two days, and then he thought that by the time he had adjusted, it would probably be time for her to return to school.

She glanced up and smiled as Joey sauntered into the kitchen and draped himself across a kitchen chair.

"Good morning," she said softly, and asked, "Would you like some breakfast?"

"I usually have cereal," he answered, looking up at his sister. He was amazed again at how much prettier she had gotten during the past year, but realized that it was more likely his changing perceptions. She had bigger breasts than Karen, he noticed while wondering how big Karen's would get. For a moment he watched her bare legs, and then wondered if she was wearing anything beneath her robe. The thought made his penis begin to harden.

"I was thinking of making pancakes. If you'd like a change, I'll make some for you," she said, looking over her shoulder at her brother while thinking that he had become a young man during the past year.

"Oh great!" he replied and grinned at her.

"What do you drink?" she asked as she began to triple the proportions in her mixing bowl.

"Milk," he replied. "I'll get it. What do you want?"

"Coffee, but I already have a mug. Thanks. You could get the syrup though," she answered.

She gave the first stack of pancakes to him, and asked, "So what's Karen like?"

The question surprised him and he flushed crimson. His face was hot as he stared at his sister, his mouth open. But finally he composed himself, wiped his forehead, and asked, "How do you know about Karen?"

Cathy laughed and stepped to Joey's chair. She bent, laying her head next to his and slipped an arm around his shoulders, hugging him. "Because you're on the phone with her all the time," she answered and went back to her griddle.

Joey felt relieved and answered, "She's nice."

"Nice?" Cathy replied in a tone he recognized. The same tone his mother used when he was evasive in his answers. She sat down at the table and picked up the syrup bottle. Upending it, she squirted a crisscross pattern of syrup on her pancakes. She set the bottle back on the table, glanced at Joey and smiled.

He knew a question was coming, but about what he didn't know. Or when it would come. She took a lot more time than mom, and he began to feel nervous with the anticipation of the question. His face felt hot. She bent slightly and took a bite of pancake. Joey stared and his penis throbbed when he saw the top of one of her breasts, and realized that she must be nude beneath her robe. He blushed but kept staring; he desperately wanted to see more, and his penis hardened further.

"Does she help you?" Cathy finally asked, a mischievous smile upon her face. She stared at her brother and saw his confused expression, and waited.

"Help me? Help me do what?" he finally asked, totally confused by Cathy's question.

"Does she touch you like you were touching yourself this morning?" she asked softly, her eyes gleaming.

Joey flushed beet red and his eyes fixed on his faintly smiling sister while his mouth opened and closed several times without uttering a silent sound. Finally he barely managed to croak, "You didn't see that!"

"Oh but I did Joey, I did. I even liked it," she finished softly, a gentle expression on her face. She let her fingertips rest softly on his wrist.

"Don't tell mom," Joey pleaded with genuine panic in his voice and expression.

"Does she touch you?" she asked again, as softly and gently as she could. Her fingers on his wrist curled just slightly, just enough so that he could feel her nails barely scraping his wrist.

"No," he stammered softly, flushed, perspiration beading on his forehead, while he wished that she did touch him. He wished it every time he touched himself, every time they kissed, often when they were just holding hands, or sitting close and watching TV together.

"Why not?" Cathy asked softly, but the question interrupted and startled him nevertheless. Joey stared at his sister, his expression blank. He turned her question every way in his mind, but couldn't fathom the meaning of it; but she continued to sit, faintly smiling at him, waiting patiently for an answer. At least he thought she was waiting for him to answer.

"I don't know why not," he finally answered, and felt that he was back at school, when his teacher had asked him, "And Joey, what is a lyric poem?"

"Do you touch her?" Cathy asked, persisting in her questioning.

"No," he answered quickly. A tone of frustration in his voice as the failure of another of his dreams was brought to light. He pushed back from the table, and said, to no one in particular, "I've got to mow the grass."

Cathy watched him leave, cross the deck, and disappear. She thought that if Karen were as shy and unaggressive as her brother was, they'd both still be innocents four years from now when they graduated high school. She wondered what Karen was like, her mom had said that she was a very considerate, bright, pretty, and mature young lady. Coming from her mom, that was a considerable recommendation.

After Cathy loaded and started the dishwasher, she went upstairs and exchanged her robe for a pair of old jeans and a sweatshirt. Back in the kitchen, she fixed herself another cup of coffee and carried it, and the morning paper, out onto the deck.

Joey was almost half done mowing the back yard when Cathy caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned to see a beautiful young girl. Taller than herself, slender with a body that was already nicely curved, short, dark blonde hair. She stood, hands on her hips, watching Joey.

"Hi," Cathy called to her. "You must be Karen."

The young girl jumped, startled, and turned towards Cathy with her hand on her mouth.

"Oh! I didn't see you there. You scared me. Sorry. Yes, I'm Karen. And you must be Cathy," she said as she came up onto the deck.

"I am," Cathy replied. "Have a seat. I'm just sitting and enjoying watching Joey work."

Karen glanced at Cathy and slowly smiled, and said, "I too enjoy watching him."

Cathy stared at her for a moment, and then said, "You're a very restrained young lady."

Karen giggled and turned her gaze towards Joey.

"Would you like something to drink?" Cathy asked her.

"Oh no," she replied quickly, turning back to Cathy. "I don't want to bother you."

"It's no bother," Cathy replied while getting up. "I have to go for more coffee anyway."

"Iced tea?" Karen replied with a slight tilt of her head. "Can I help?"

"No, I can get it. You might want to see if Joey would like something."

"Oh, he'll want tea too," she replied, "and you'll have too much to carry. I'll help," and she got up.

Cathy watched as Karen carried a glass of iced tea out to Joey. He stopped, killed the mower, and smiled when he noticed her coming across the lawn. They kissed, just a peck, and she offered him the tea. While he drank it, she laid her hand on his upper arm and stroked it. He handed the glass back to her and they talked for a moment. Then they kissed again. More than a peck, but not passionate either. Enough that he's probably hard, Cathy thought. Karen's hand slid down Joey's arm until they were holding hands, and then she started back towards the house. Joey watched her for a moment, and then bent to restart the mower.

Cathy and Karen watched Joey work on the yard and chatted, and when he finished the back yard, they moved to the front steps so Karen could continue watching him while they continued their conversation.

Joey and Karen went to the movies later that Saturday afternoon, and after, they walked back, holding hands, to her house. He was invited to have dinner with her family- they were going to order pizza; and after dinner her parents went to relax and read on the patio while Joey helped Karen clean up the kitchen and do the dishes. Joey wanted her, and had wanted her, so badly he frequently could think of nothing else. Today was especially bad for him. Whenever they were alone, she was touching his arm, or giving him a little kiss. And Cathy! He couldn't forget Cathy's question, and it made not having Karen especially painful.

"What are you thinking about?" Karen asked him, and the question brought him back from his reverie and softened his erection.

He almost blurted out how much he desired her, how much he lusted after her, how she tormented his thoughts, how much he wanted to see her breast, and suck it, and touch her, and shove his hard cock into her, and into her hand, but instead, he shrugged his shoulders, and replied with difficulty, "Nothing."

"I think you were daydreaming about something," she replied with quiet emphasis, touching his arm, but then asked, "You want to watch TV?"

"Your father and I are going to the Johnson's for brunch after church," Cathy's mother informed her, and Joey, as they were all getting ready for church. "You're welcome to join us. Their son is home from Cornell for the summer. He's a very nice young man. Handsome, and he's starting law school next year."

"What's his name?" Cathy asked.

"Greg," Mrs. Austin answered. "So you'll join us?" she asked again and waited for an answer with her head tilted and her eyebrows arched, hoping her daughter would accept the invitation.

"Thanks mom, but not today. I think I'll walk home after service," she answered while thinking that after the past year at school, the last thing she needed was another male friend, lover, relationship, or whatever her mother thought she might be instigating.

Her mother studied her for a moment, but said nothing further. Finally, turning to Joey, she continued, "Joey. You'll come?"

"Na," he replied. "I'll walk home with Cath."

"And what will you do for lunch?" their mother asked Joey.

"I'll fix something for us," Cathy replied

They walked the first quarter-mile in silence, and then Joey asked, "Cath?"

She glanced up at her brother, absorbed his expression, slipped her arm through his, and replied, "What Joey?"

"How do I ask her?" he said, a plaintive plea in the tone of his voice.

They walked another block in silence, they Cathy replied, "I don't know Joey. There's a million ways. Maybe when you're with her and you're excited, you should just touch her. Gently."

"I couldn't," Joey instantly responded, his voice raspy. "Is that terrible?"

"No Joey. It's not terrible. Not at all. Maybe it's even one of your charms for her. People are so strange," she finished softly, almost as if speaking to herself. They walked another half-block in silence and then Cathy asked a question that she felt confident she knew the answer to, "Is she your friend?"