I Got Caught in Girls Underclothes Ch. 10

Mom picked this moment to return with the empty laundry basket, and Sis who hadn't missed my stare looked at me with a slight flush, "It's a bit cool. Be a sweetheart and go get me a shirt while I finish our eggs and bacon," and clasped her arms over her chest. She dropped her 'cover' when I was gone.

Moms aren't completely blind to their surroundings, "I guess it is cool," and she glanced down frowning at Sis's chest and back to meet her eyes, "You know, much as we may want to avoid it, he's a young man now, and he notices things."

"Sorry Mom. I guess I still think of him as my baby brother and not a... man. I'll remember."

In spite of being off duty, our cook did manage to brew some coffee and we sat at the kitchen table and ate our breakfast while we talked about getting Sis ready for her return to UA.

Sis said she didn't need to shop. He clothes from last year were fine. This meant she was planning on a trunk full of jean shorts and plain, very plain, t-shirts with a few long pants and long sleeve shirts thrown in for cool mornings; no jewelry, no makeup, no electronics, nothing for the occasional party. This looked like a repeat of last year's pack job. I'm not sure what girls usually took to college with them, but felt certain it was not this.

Mom must have shared my feelings, "Are you sure honey. I'd love to go shopping with you. We could get you few things."

"No. You and Dad are already doing too much," and that ended the conversation. She could stop a conversation with Mom just like she stopped them with me.

That night, it was me who couldn't sleep for the noises coming from across the hall. It must have been midnight, but I heard a rhythmic creaking from Sis's room. Her bed I presumed, and the part that got me; I heard what sounded like crying.

I got up and crossed the hall to her door. Not wanting to wake Mom and Dad with a knock, I gently opened her door, "Are you ok Sis?"

She looked at me embarrassed and her hand jerked from underneath the sheet which had hidden it, but not what it was doing. I understood what was happening. But for her complaint from the night before, I might have been doing it myself. I'd done it in my bathroom earlier with the door closed to protect her, and my ego.

She stammered, "I'm... fine. Now, leave... Just go. I'm fine."

You would have had to be blind to not know even in the darkened room, that she had been crying. Why would you masturbate and cry at the same time. I was on her bed side immediately holding her. She rested her head on my chest and sobbed without talking.

We must have been noisier than I thought, but a few seconds later Mom, with Dad just behind her, stood in the door, "Is everything ok?"

Sis lied, "I guess I had a bad dream and... was crying." Minimalist. Sis was good at saying the fewest words possible when she was covering up. Mom and Dad could work out the rest however they liked. Interestingly enough, I who knew more, felt like I understood nothing. Mom and Dad who knew nothing at least had a satisfying explanation and were not happy with it, but satisfied.

Mom banished the men from the room, "You get your sleep and I'll sit with Katherine for a while." She replaced me embracing Sis and sat caressing her hair, "You're ok. I've got you."

Dad went back to bed and I sat at the top of the stairs waiting for Mom. Thirty minutes later she was staring down at me, "She's sleeping," and I nodded appreciatively, "You're a good brother, Tyler. Even your Dad has commented on how you've grown up and how close you and Katherine have become. It's good to see that. Family should be close. Now you get some sleep," and she walked down the steps to follow her own advice.

Her kind words had brought a surge of guilt to the surface as I walked back to my bed. She wouldn't think I was such a good brother if she just knew. Sleep didn't come immediately. However, most of my sleeplessness was spent wondering what I had walked in on in Sis's bedroom. Was she ok?

The next day, Sis spent most of it holed up in her room rarely coming out. She had breakfast early and was back in her room before I got up. I called Billy and Bobby and met them at the Mall for lunch. It was better than sitting around and thinking about Sis and wondering if she was going to come out of her room.

About five, IT happened. I had been home several hours and it was clear that Sis was avoiding me, not everyone. Just me. Only Mom, Sis and I were home. Dad was visiting a client. I came down stairs and at the entrance to the dining room, I found myself standing behind Sis.

It was an accident. I really didn't think about it and it wasn't meant to mean anything, other than just a friendly touch, a brotherly touch this time. I placed a hand on Sis's shoulder.

Her body trembled and I recalled the last time and removed my hand. It was too late. She turned on me and I was shocked to see anger on her face. This was followed instantly by the flat of her palm striking my face, "DON'T DO THAT. Why don't you just go fuck your cheerleaders and leave me the hell alone?"

I stammered out, "I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

Mom came out in time to see me with my hand to face. I'm not sure what I looked like, and just stood there. Sis is small so there wasn't enough force do any real harm, but it had hurt more than anything that I had ever experienced.

Mom gave me a pained look, "Katherine Annabel Perry! With me. NOW!" She entered a nearby room. Sis followed immediately.

A couple of minutes later, they emerged. Sis was crying and she paused by my side as she passed, "I'm sorry," and was gone.

You know how apologies between siblings go when you do something wrong and your parents' make you apologize. You do it, but everyone knows you don't mean it. This wasn't one of those. It had been short, but I could tell she meant it.

I'm not sure whether Sis came out of her room or not the next two days. If she did, she was careful not to do it when I was around. She must have talked to Mom and Dad, and Saturday morning early they loaded her Corolla and she left for Tucson a day early with no company and no fanfare.

The plan had been that we would take two vehicles. She and I would be in her car and Mom and Dad would drive another. We'd go have a nice meal together and say our good byes.

She was nothing but tail lights on the street before I knew what was happening, "Mom, is she ok? She was supposed to leave tomorrow."

We all shared the concern. Dad spoke up, "She's an adult Tyler. Said she wanted to get back early and get her room set up. She'll be fine."

It was somber around the Perry household that weekend. I couldn't help but wonder how Sis was doing and sent her a text: 'You ok?' Several hours later I didn't have a reply.

Moms always pick up on children's moods, "She will be ok Tyler, but how are you doing? You know she didn't really mean what she did. Don't you? She loves you."

"I guess." It had to be my imagination, but my cheek still burned as if she had just slapped me.

"You'll be ok too sweetheart." I sighed and nodded but not with much conviction. She rubbed my back.

"Thanks Mom."

*****Back to CHS and Counselling*****

A couple of weeks later, CHS was back in session. I thought that would help me get my mind off whatever was going on with Sis. Whatever was going on, it didn't involve communicating with me. I had a string of unanswered texts, emails, and phone calls. It was irritating.

Mom's response, "I'm sure it's nothing. She's probably just busy with her classes. I'll make sure she calls you." Apparently she was talking to everyone else. Just not me. Carol even said Becky had spoken with her. Shit! Shit. Shit. Shit.

Remember I told you Dad said Mr. Anderson had sounded angry when he'd call to arrange to come over. He had been angry, but not at me. Principal Thompson had just told him that Daddy's little girl was going to have to go through counselling all of her senior year. Apparently he wasn't ready to hear that. In light of what had happened, the school now had two full time counselors on staff and their first victims (counsellees) included me and twelve cheerleaders. Regular punishment might have been better. I was on their calendar last period of the day, Tuesdays and Thursdays, until further notice. Crap!

And I returned to the football team. Tried to anyway. There were a few of the older guys that seemed happy to see me. The rest seemed to think I was to blame for our season going down the tubes and we hadn't even played our first game.

Coach was being careful and I wasn't supposed to be in full contact practice until the doctor said I was ok. That would be a couple more weeks. Apparently, the 'no contact' rule didn't get to everyone. I got hit several times, blindsided actually.

The new quarterback, who wouldn't have even be a starter, wouldn't throw to me, either not my direction or not catchable.

Tempers were flaring. I got angry and broke the no contact rule. The few who were on my side got angry and in general the locker room became toxic. Mostly the mood was we were going to lose and it was my fault.

Finally, a topic for the counselors that I felt ok to talk about. They had tried to get me to 'open up' about how I felt about the girls. I tried to stick to short answers, one word where possible. I said things like: Ok. No. Yes. They're fine. We're fine. I'm fine. Counselors are worse than Sis had been for conversation. At least I'd wanted to please her.

Initially, I'd been more cooperative with the counselors. Teresa was nice. Kind of cute. Had a good set of legs that a short skirt showed off. Bill was ok, but I never left his session having admired his legs. I think she worked it a bit as if that might make it easier for me to loosen up. She didn't go overboard or anything, but I think she thought if I enjoyed looking at a little thigh, it might distract me. It might have worked too.

Early on, they had wanted to discuss the girl that had started me down this path to destruction or wherever they thought I was. No one knew her. Mom and Dad were curious. Even Carol, Bonnie, Billy and Bobby were curious. Initially, I thought it might be safe to give them a few tidbits. Yes, I miss her. She was nice. Yes, I had sex with her. I liked her. They already knew all of this stuff.

Counselors are sneaky. One minute you're not giving them anything useful, and the next they ask something dangerous like, "Who is she?" No way could I answer that one. "Do you still talk to her?" I couldn't answer that one either and I was still smarting that Sis hadn't gotten back with me and I didn't want people comparing notes. "Are you still with her? Where's she at?" It was that last question that caused me to shut down. I almost said, 'She had to go back to FUCKING UA.' That was when I realized maybe I'd already said too much. If I hadn't already given them too much of the puzzle, I wasn't going to give them another piece. Not one. Like computer security, I put them on a 'need to know' basis, and they didn't need to know anything.

The football team suddenly seemed like a safe topic, and I did need some advice. Actually, I already knew what I was going to do, but they could listen and 'help me figure it out.' They'd feel good for having helped me and I didn't have to worry about divulging anything. It was a win/win.

I 'opened up' about all of it. How I thought I'd end up fighting if I was in the locker room a few more days. How the team needed all the help they could get to salvage the season. It put the coach in a bad spot. He'd said he would stick with me and I believed him. In the end, where I had seen the possibility of enjoying my senior season, I no longer saw that. If I stayed, morale would probably cost them a couple more games than they were already going to lose. I didn't want to do that to them. I needed to quit for the good of the team. The counselors had their first success when they helped me figure this out. I told you; a win/win.

I went to the coach before practice after my counselling session and told him, "I'm sorry, but I'm quitting. I think it's better for the team." Coach said he understood and was sorry it had been so rough. I cleaned out my locker before practice. A couple of guys stopped by in the lunchroom the next day to see how I was doing. I got a few 'quitter' cracks from the rest of the team. Carol and the girls were hurt. Bobby and Billy were philosophical about it but not happy with a lot of the guys. I'd been worried about telling Dad so I told Mom first and she helped me with Dad. He was more understanding than I expected and they both already knew how the locker room was going. He'd played football in high school and thought it was a valuable experience. He took it well.

I tried calling Sis. It quit ringing on the third ring. Normally it rings a lot if you don't answer. The call didn't roll over to voicemail. She had DECLINED the call! Bullshit! She wasn't going to get back to me. Attempts every other day dwindled to once a week with a few texts or emails when I really wanted to know what was going on. I apologized. Practically begged. No answer. None of the other crap meant anything to me, but this was killing me.

We lost the first football game of the season to a patsy we should have beaten handily. Dads truck was keyed in the school parking lot the following Monday. It ruined the paint and ended up spending a month at the Ford body shop. I apologized to Dad. He was pissed about the truck but refused to allow me to accept any blame though I did feel it. He loved that truck.

A few days later, he took me to a used car dealership and we bought a POS, short for Piece of Shit. It was actually a 2005 Camry that Dad said had been in a rollover and gotten a cheap paint job. That explained why so much of the paint was coming off the hood, roof and trunk lid. He said it was mechanically in good shape and based on its appearance, I wouldn't have to worry about it being keyed. He had that right. It was truly a POS. Dads a practical guy and he did spend for one extra; a set of run flat tires. I think they cost twice as much as the car, but he reasoned that if they let the air out of them, I'd still get home. He promised to get me a decent one when I started ASU next fall. Dad really is a good guy.

The truck was a safe topic for the counselors. It was nice to have something to talk about. Otherwise the silence could get awkward. I think Teresa's skirt got an inch shorter. I was definitely going to hold out now.

Carol finally implemented her plan to 'get even with me' for the blindfold thing. It could have been a lot worse. Her sense of humor must be a bit like Sis's. You could call it a mean streak but I choose not to in both cases. You just have to be able to handle it.

She explained, "I'm house sitting for an old couple. He just retired early at age 50 or something and they're going on a yearlong vacation. Are you up for a little fun? We'd like to try make up for the last three years. It would mean a lot to us if you'd let us."

She was definitely buttering me up for something, but I couldn't believe it would be anything bad from these girls. They'd turned out to be nice after we got to know each other.

Most days I had lunch with some of the girls. Table pairings had definitely gotten strange; Billy, Bobby and I surrounded by girls. Cheerleaders even. Had it not been for the rift with Sis, things would have been great.

Carol told me we'd need a cover story for our parents and the Counselors. She'd picked up on the fact that they might be worse than parents when it came prying into other people's business.

In her next session with Bill, she casually mentioned, "Some of us have been thinking about getting together, maybe one night a week to go over what you and Teresa have been telling us." She intentionally revealed this to Bill. She could wear a short skirt as well as Teresa. "So what do you think about us kids maybe getting together for a while at one of our houses? Kind of like a group therapy thing and we could rotate it around so no one family has too much bother. And we'd always have parents nearby. And we could discuss it in our next session if anything interesting comes up, and if there's nothing to talk about, we can just study." Bill liked the idea. I probably would have liked it too if I'd been sitting there with Carol selling it to me in the skirt she wore that day.

Carol's plan called for keeping parents in the dark about our comings and goings. A different house each week. Different kids each week. We actually worked out a schedule; who would attend each; a few early or late arrivals. All to make sure the routine was anything but routine. The only regular thing about the plan was that it would be Wednesday's every week.

Carol gave me the address to the house she was sitting and I made sure I knew exactly where it was at. For the first one, she said she would meet me there and let me know how things would go. The two of us would miss the first session. As it turned out a couple of other girls would miss too. Schedules for seniors in high school can be pretty unpredictable. The first meeting of our little group therapy session was at one of the other girl's houses. It wouldn't look right for Carol to miss the first meeting, especially if it was at her house or Bonnie's. Their turn would come.

Carol and I arrived a little early and she explained what my duties were. They weren't complicated. She led to a guest bedroom, and there was the blindfold and an iPod. Carol explained, "You know the drill," and she grinned at me, "I told you I'd get even with you. And fresh sheets will be in the bathroom. Be sure to arrive early enough to put those out. No girl wants to do it on a dirty sheet!" Together we prepped the bed. "It will be your job to clean up when you're finished," and she turned serious, "Be sure to have the blindfold on at the appointed time. Absolutely no peaking. Remember, none of these girls really know you, so they may be a little shy and not want to do it alone. So it'll mostly be 3-ways. I assume you're ok with that," and without giving me a chance to respond she grinned, "I thought you would be."

It was now five minutes until my first 'appointment.' Carol put my blindfold on me. Made sure my earbuds were in place and the volume was correct, and then led me by the hand over to the bed, "I'm leaving," and she snickered as she said, "You need to be naked on top of the sheets when they arrive."

"You're evil Carol," and as I heard the bedroom door click, I knew Carol was gone. It's embarrassing getting undressed while blindfolded and getting ready for an unknown visitor, or visitors, but I did it. Couldn't let the girls down. You understand.

It was then that I heard Carol, "You look perfect. Nice dick!" She hadn't left after all and I shouldn't have had my fingers wrapped around my dick.

As I released myself, "You really are evil!"

I could hear her laughing as she exited the bedroom leaving the door open this time and I heard the front door open and close behind her. The next five minutes were really strange as I lay there naked waiting and not knowing who was going to show up. Lots of things ran through my mind. What if the owners came back? I couldn't explain this. What if the police show up? That would be a disaster. The possibilities were endless. And then there was the possibility Carol had promised. I could do this.

The doorbell rang and I fought two urges: answer it or get dressed. I was nervous and excited as hell. I wanted to get under the sheets, but Carol had been specific. Under the sheets would have been easier, particularly since I had a raging hard-on bouncing around like a jack-in-the-box. I tried to steady myself. Complete waste of time.

Then I heard giggling. It was giggles from two girls, "Looks like he's ready for us," as fingers wrapped around my shaft. Then a hand grabbed my sack and worked the balls. The hand clutching me began to stroke. I tried to be cool about it, but I moaned. There was more giggling.