Erotic story leads to erotic encounters

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“That’s enough!” Shelly said, her own face turning crimson. “I think you have the idea.”

“You sure?” I said, trying not to stare at her breasts, which seemed to have grown as I spoke.

“No, uh, you got it.” she said, standing up.

She let out a soft sigh, as she stepped back.

“I want to read it again when you’re done.” she said before turning and walking away.

I couldn’t help but stare at her backside as she walked out of the room. For the briefest of moments I considered changing the female character to a sister, but I realized that might be going too far.

I had been in my bedroom hard at work on the rewrite of my paper. I had stripped down to just my under shorts in an attempt to get comfortable, every paragraph causing my rigid cock to strain against the fabric. A knock on my door made me jump.

“David.” my sister cracked the door open and stuck her head in.

“Dammit, Shelly. Why don’t you knock!” I shouted scrambling to cover the tent in my shorts.

“I did knock.” she replied, a mischievous look on her face.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m taking a shower, so don’t use the bathroom.”

“Whatever!” I shouted reaching over and grabbing my pillow, which I immediately flung at her.

She pulled the door closed quickly, and I heard her rush down the hall. Picking up the pillow, I sat back down on my bed and tried to resume working on my paper.

I was in the middle of the shower scene, and suddenly it hit me. There was no reason for Shelly to let me know she was taking a shower, because the bathroom door had a lock. All she had to do was lock the door.

“That’s ridiculous!” I said out loud, as my mind went in a completely different direction.

Before I had a chance to reconsider, I was slowly walking down the hallway toward the bathroom door. Even before I reached it, I could see that the door hung open just a couple inches. Not enough to peek in, but enough to listen. The sound of water streaming out of the shower reached my ears as I walked up to the door.

I moved close, afraid that even my own breath might give me away. I stood as still as I could, straining to hear. At first, only the sound of the water came to my ears, and I was about to turn and walk back to my room, when I heard it. Barely audible, but it was there, a soft moan. I froze, not even breathing as another, then another soft moan. I struggled with the temptation of opening the door. My hand was shaking, as I reached for the handle. As my fingers encircled the cold metal a voice rang in my head.

“Just take it slow.” Shelly had said.

I pulled my hand back, grimacing as the door moved slightly. There was just enough of an opening for me to see the mirror above the vanity. Reflected in the mirror I could see Shelly or at least her outline as she stood in the shower. I couldn’t see any details through the shower curtain, but what I could see sent my head reeling. She was washing, her hands moving across her breasts.

I don’t know how long I stood there but it couldn’t have been more than a minute. She reached out and shut off the water. Her hand grasped the curtain and started pulling it back. I dashed back to my bedroom, not caring how much noise I made.

The close call had my heart racing, which was good I guess. It had also caused my raging hard on to shrivel. I sat upright in my bed, holding my lap-top across my knees as I stared at the door, waiting for Shelly to come barging in and kill me. I heard the bathroom door close, and the sound of her walking down the hall. I held my breath, waiting for the inevitable.

There was a click, followed moments later by another click. My door remained closed. She had gone into her own bedroom. I sighed in relief, vowing to never try and spy on her again. I quickly started typing, trying to get through the rest of the rewrite, hoping I remembered everything Shelly had said.

As I typed away, I began hearing soft moans. I stopped typing, straining to make out the sounds, but they quit as soon as I stopped typing. With a shrug, I began typing again, blaming it on my imagination. Within a minute the moans resumed. This time I kept hitting a key with my finger, as I concentrated on the sounds coming through the wall. I was certain what they were, and as I continued striking the key, leaving a long row of “l’s” tracing across the screen, I closed my eyes, imagining I could see through the wall at what was going on just a few feet away.

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