It all started when I got caught.
“What…” said an outraged feminine voice from behind me.
On instinct, I turned around to face her, my nose still buried in a pair of used panties. My twin sister Sabrina was standing in the doorway, her sports bag slipping out of her fingers and dropping onto the floor.
“… the fuck,” she finished flatly, her eyes wildly flicking between my own, her panties in my one hand, and my erection in my other. In my lustful stupor, I made time to notice the tight sports bra and tiny gym shorts she was wearing, as well as the thin sheen of sweat to complete the look.
“Please don’t tell mom,” I blurted. It was all that I could muster. I hadn’t even begun to work out how to deal with my sister’s reaction, how to even explain this. Though it would’ve been futile anyway; it wasn’t as if I could say I’d tripped into a single garment in her laundry.
“Get out of my room,” she seethed, her face contorting in contempt and disgust.
I managed to utter a dumb “We share a room, Brie,” before she stomped a foot and whipped a finger out of the bedroom we shared.