Sisters in Waiting
A Novelette
Copyright © 1999, Kellis
(From the Perfect Society Register,
August 26, 1928)
… Also traveling by Pullman are the reclusive Harwick
sisters of Elysian Grove, nieces of the Hon. George S. Chamford. They are touring the Grand Canyon and
southern California this winter. The
notice to your reporter assures us of their return in time for a presentation
next spring.
“Cissy, you absolutely must come and
see what they’re doing now!”
The girl looked up in annoyance from her
book. “Oh, Tissy, who cares what boys
are up to! Are they still playing
checkers?”
“You care! Checkers, ha! They’re
…” Tissy’s voice dropped to a
conspiratorial whisper. “They’re
rubbing each other’s privates. And wait
till you see what it’s done to their things!”
Cissy found that argument irresistible. She threw her book on the floor, forgetting
even to dog-ear the page, and flew up out of the rocking chair, dallying only
the instant needed to take its cushion up into her hands. She hurried across the room behind her
sister and dodged into the closet, silently closing the door. The two girls tiptoed up the attic stairs in
gloom, lit only by light leaking around the door and from the holes above. As their heads approached the attic joist,
they drew side by side, resting knees on the cushions fetched for that purpose.
Someone had made the last riser before the
attic floor removable. When set aside,
it exposed the plaster and lathing of the next bedroom’s wall. Presumably the same someone had drilled two
holes through that plaster, each nearly an inch in diameter, separated by the
distance between one’s eyes, a like pair located a shoulder’s width away. It seemed obvious to the sisters that this
had all been arranged so that two people, perched on the stairs, might
simultaneously spy into the adjacent bedroom.
Arranged by whom they did not inquire.
As usual, Cissy took the left hand pair,
leaving the right to Tissy. Both girls
peered into the holes, rising on their elbows to afford clear views.
Cissy whispered, “That’s not rubbing! Didn’t Stan tell you the name of it?”
“Uh, hacking off?”
“Jacking off, you ninny!”
Tissy sniffed. “What a stupid name for it!”
“And don’t act so surprised. You know what it does to their things.”
“Yeah, but look at the stout one’s, how thick
it is!”
“It is, isn’t it!” Cissy registered a hint of awe. “I don’t believe Stan’s was half that
thick!”
“That’s what surprised me. Wish I’d paid more attention.”
“To what?”
“When I did Stan’s. Of course I hardly did him at all.”
Cissy’s glance conveyed annoyance. “Did what?”
“Rubbed his thing.”
“Oh, yeah?
You jacked him off two or three times that I know about.”
“Well, only a little bit, just to feel the
skin slip. It’s so funny. It feels loose, like it would fall
off if they weren’t careful. I never
did it all the way - like you did. Are
these two trying to make each other come?”
Cissy sniffed. “They must be!”
“But they don’t need to do that!”
“Huh?
What do you mean?”
“You saw the tall one last night.”
Cissy turned briefly to regard her
sister. “Saw him do what?”
Tissy nodded her head forward. “That.”
“I saw him jacking off.”
“Till he came.”
“He came?”
Tissy suppressed a giggle. “Told you not to leave!”
Cissy’s whisper became aggravated. “It’s boring just to watch a boy jerk his
skin back and forth.”
“Not when he comes.”
“You actually saw the white stuff?”
“I saw it.
It squirted out on the floor.
Then he flopped back on the bed and drooled out some more.”
“On the floor,” Cissy mused. “How far?”
“The first one went just a little bit. The second one shot out past that
chair. The others were shorter.”
“How many others?”
“Oh, three or four, I guess.”
The listener heaved a sigh. “Darn!
Wish I’d stayed.” Suddenly she
snapped, “I don’t believe you. If you’d
seen all that you would’ve bragged last night.”
“You went down to the kitchen, remember, and
I had gas cramps. Huh! I thought we’re supposed to get sick to our
stomachs, not to our butt holes.”
“It was that pumpkin pie. I told you not to eat so much.”
Tissy shook her head. “I couldn’t stop - like you were about the
sour plums.”
“At least we don’t get sick as much as we did
at first! You still didn’t tell me why
you think these two don’t have to do each other.”
“I mean one doesn’t need the other for it.”
Cissy grunted. “Neither do we.”
Tissy remarked thoughtfully, “Though it’s
more fun to do it together.”
“Maybe for them, too.”
They watched awhile. Cissy complained, “Men take such a long
time!”
“They need girls,” Tissy suggested. “You made Stan come real quick at the flower
show.”
Cissy smiled in satisfaction. “Didn’t I, just! And all I used was my forefinger.”
“I saw it.
Your skirt didn’t cover it as well as you thought.”
“Well, I didn’t care if you saw
it! He was quick because you and I both
had been playing with his cock all afternoon.”
“Cock!
That’s another stupid name.”
“That’s what he called it, which is
better than just thing!”
The room below them was large enough for two
full beds with dressers, night stands and chairs. Large windows on the outside wall furnished ample daylight, even
on a rainy day such as this. Two young
men lay side by side on the nearer bed, its head against the far wall. They were both stark naked. Their clothing hung on the backs of nearby
chairs. Each had laid an arm across the
other’s body. Hands were pivoting
gently. Faces were turned together,
lips moving alternately. To the
watchers their low voices were unintelligible over the rainwater gurgling in
the gutters.
Tissy wondered, “Do you think they’re telling
each other how it feels?”
“Like we did? No, unless it’s their first time.”
“I wonder how it does feel to a man.”
“You asked Stan.”
Tissy grunted. “All he said was ‘good!’
When I tried to make him say more, he changed the subject.”
“Well, it’s not so easy. How would you tell a man how it feels to
you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe we should ask one while he’s feeling it.”
“Ask who?
Stan is long gone.”
Tissy sighed. “I know it.” She
brightened. “We could ask those two.”
Cissy snorted. “Sure we could!”
Tissy smiled. “I bet they’d be glad to tell us.”
“Maybe, if we could call them on the
telephone.”
“Why that?”
“Where they couldn’t see our big bellies.”
“Oh.
You think it would hinder them?”
“It makes us ugly,” Cissy declared.
“Who said so?” demanded Tissy belligerently.
“Well, nobody actually said so. But we look so … out of balance. You can tell by the way Old Lady Horner
looks at us. She thinks we’re ugly.”
Tissy agreed with a sniff, “Sight of us hurts
her eyes!”
Cissy said thoughtfully, “But maybe the men
wouldn’t care. Stan said he
would still love us.”
“Poor Stan!”
Cissy sighed, then brightened. “We do have one advantage. We can’t get caught when we’re already
caught. They couldn’t get into the
trouble Stan did.”
“Old Lady Horner said to stay out of the
men’s section.”
“I know.
She said they’re a bunch of drunks.”
“Does that make sense, Cissy? Isn’t whisky against the law?”
“That’s what Uncle said. But so is what we did.”
“Against the law?”
“Well, against Uncle George’s law.”
“But we didn’t know it.”
“Theresa Harwick, don’t tell that to me!”
“Nobody said, ‘Don’t let Stan put his thing
into you.’”
“They said, ‘Don’t sit in his lap’ and ‘Don’t
let your skirt ride up.’”
“Well … Who knew what that meant?”
“You knew.”
“Did not!”
“If you thought they didn’t care, why’d you
meet him in the summer house that first time without telling anybody?”
“’Cause he asked me.”
“Little Miss Sweet Innocence!”
Tissy tossed her head. “Well, why did you?”
“Not because he asked me.”
“He didn’t ask you?”
“No.
I asked him!”
“You didn’t!”
“Yes, I did.
And I knew they wouldn’t like it.
I even guessed it might make our bellies swell, because I remembered
Aunt Janey and the salesman. But I
didn’t care. I wanted Stan to do me
anyway. And so did you.”
Tissy sniffed. “All right. I understand
our part. But what’s a lot of drunk men
doing here? Those two don’t look
drunk.”
“They might be. I don’t think you can tell unless you smell them.”
“But I thought this was a home for ruined
girls.”
Cissy grinned. “Not in so many words.
Remember the sign? This is
‘Rolling Meadow Sanitarium.’ Miss
Horner said it’s for anybody who needs to get away for a while.”
“Get away from what?”
“Other people, mainly. Like all the cousins who’d go crazy about
our bellies.”
Tissy frowned. “Those men don’t have big bellies.”
“Well, Fat Cock does a little bit.”
“Hey, does a fat man have a fat … thing and a
skinny man a thin one?”
Cissy thought it over. “Maybe.
But we’ve only seen three. And
only one close up. Stan’s was no
thicker than Thin Cock’s.”
“Thin -
Oh.” Tissy grinned. “Don’t forget and call them that to their
faces.”
“Huh!
We’ll never see them face to face.”
“We might.
I know where the door is.”
“What door?”
“To the men’s section.”
“Well, yes, so do I.” Cissy shook her head. “But how could we find their room?”
Tissy sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Wait a minute. Our room number is on the door in big metal numbers.”
“What good does - Oh.”
“One of us has to be watching when they open
their door.”
“One of us,” Tissy repeated sarcastically.
Cissy backed away. “You keep watch. I’m
going to get our pillows.”
When she returned, the younger sister was
again excited. “Look here, quick!”
Cissy flung down the pillows and ascended to
her post. “They’ll hear you. What is it?” Then she gasped. “They’re
… Good heavens!”
After a moment Cissy asked, “Did you see them
take that position?”
“Sure!”
“Is Fat Cock sucking the thin one, too?”
“You think they’re sucking?”
“Look at Thin Cock’s cheeks! What I mean is, did you see if Fat Cock took
in the thin one?”
“He was first. The tall one kneeled behind Fat Cock’s head and put his thing in
Fat Cock’s mouth, then he leaned down to Fat Cock’s thing. You’re right, Cissy. He is sucking. Gosh!
Wouldn’t you think it’s too long for that? Where does he put it?”
“The thin one is even longer. Wish we could see what Fat Cock’s doing with
it.”
They watched in fascination. Tissy licked her lips and remarked, “He’s
squeezing the sack like Stan did our boobs.
Do you think that feels good?”
Cissy snorted. “How do I know? By the
way, it’s not called a sack. Stan
called it ‘balls.’”
“‘Balls!’
That’s stupider than ‘cock!’ It
doesn’t look at all like a ball.”
“You can feel something like balls in
the sack. You can’t have
forgotten! You played with Stan’s all
evening at Orphans of the Storm.”
“Well, you can’t see anything in a movie
theater. And he wouldn’t let me squeeze
it hard enough to tell much.”
Cissy chuckled reminiscently. “He complained about that. It’s easy to hurt them.”
“He said I hurt him?”
“He told me later.”
Tissy snorted. “It sure didn’t stop him from wetting your hand!”
“No, it didn’t. I think it might’ve helped that.
Maybe it’s - Uh, oh!”
Tissy exclaimed, “He’s jacking, too!”
“So’s Fat Cock. Look at his elbow jiggle.”
“I see it.”
Cissy breathed, “So that’s how you do it!”
Tissy observed, “See his cheeks? He’s still sucking on the head.”
“Oh!” Cissy exclaimed in sudden
animation. “Did you see that?”
“Fat Cock is coming, isn’t he!”
“He must be!
That’s not spit.”
Both girls held themselves very still, noses
against the plaster between the holes.
After a few seconds Tissy wondered, “Where’s the rest of it?”
Cissy declared, “I’ll bet Thin Cock swallowed
it.”
“No, he didn’t! Look! He just spat it on
Fat Cock’s leg.”
“Wait …
What’s the matter with Fat Cock?”
Below them the thin man had rolled to one side. The stout one, face the color of a ripe
beet, heaved himself to the edge of the bed.
With face hung over the side he made retching noises audible above the
rainstorm.
Tissy wondered, “Did he get choked on Thin
Cock’s come?”
Cissy remarked thoughtfully, “Remember how
hard Stan would push at the end? And
Fat Cock’s head was on the bed. I’ll
bet Thin Cock pushed too far down his throat.”
“While he was coming,” added Tissy,
fascination evident in her tone.
“Probably.”
“Wow!
That must’ve been something!”
“Oh?
You’d like to be choked that bad?
He’s throwing up.”
Tissy licked her lips. “I’d like … to know know how it tastes. Did you ever do that to Stan?”
“No.”
Cissy chuckled self-consciously.
“Who’d think to do that? That’s
where boys pee, you know.”
Tissy pointed out, “Thin Cock didn’t mind.”
The thin man had fetched towel and a tumbler
of water from the night stand. The
stout one, recovering, wiped his face and drank a bit of water. He took in hand the drooping organ hanging
near his face, peeled back the skin, grinned up at its owner and said rather
loudly, which was the only reason the watchers understood: “I mean to cut an inch off this thing.”
Thin Cock jerked it free. He said something, perhaps an apology, and
both men laughed. Fat Cock got off the
bed, knelt and began to scour up his vomit from the carpet.
“It didn’t hurt him,” Tissy concluded.
To the watchers’ disappointment, when the
carpet was clean and towels left to soak on the night stand, both men returned
to the bed, turned on their sides and gave every indication of falling
immediately asleep.
“Stan liked to do that,” said Cissy
reminiscently.
“With another man?”
“I mean fall asleep. After he came.”
“You mean you let him?”
“Sometimes.”
“Well, yes.
Me, too. But when he came too
quick, I made him keep going.”
Cissy chuckled. “That’s why I made you get him first. He’d last longer on his second go.”
“I figured that out, too. Darn, I sure do miss him.”
Cissy retorted dryly, “I know what part you
miss!” She pulled away from the peep
holes. “Will you watch for awhile?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m going back to my book.”
Tissy looked at her, looked back through the
holes, then backed away also. “Watching
men sleep is no fun.”
The girls descended the stairs with their
cushions, took up their pillows and returned to the bedroom after softly
closing the closet door. Cissy went to
the rocking chair, bent and retrieved her book. Tissy restored the pillows to the bed and stood beside it,
regarding her sister thoughtfully.
“Let’s take a nap.”
Cissy cocked an eyebrow at her. “A nap?”
“Those guys had the right idea.”
Cissy’s eyebrow rose higher. “What idea?”
“How to spend a rainy Sunday afternoon.”
“Had the right idea?”
“Sure.
Come on. Let’s see …”
“What?”
“How good it is.”
“Tissy, say what you mean.”
“I was just thinking … if we tried licking
instead of rubbing …”
“Oh.”
Cissy carefully laid her book on the end table. She crossed the room to stand beside her
sister. “We pee there, too, you know.”
“Then let’s wash first.”
“Did they?”
“I don’t know. They were already jacking when I noticed them.”
Cissy glanced at the night stand. “We need more water.”
“I’ll get it.”
When Tissy returned, she found her sister
naked. “What are you doing?” she asked
with large eyes.
Cissy shrugged. “It worked for them.”
“Oh.”
Tissy poured her pitcher’s contents into the night stand basin and set
the pitcher aside. She snatched the
loose dress off over her head and hung it with her shift in the wardrobe
dresser as Cissy had done. The latter had
finished her ablution by that time.
Tissy went to the night stand and took up the same washcloth.
“Get a fresh one,” Cissy ordered.
“Huh!”
Tissy grinned at her. “What
for? Stan put his thing back and forth
between us in the hay loft and it didn’t hurt anything. Besides, this one is already soaped up.”
“You think it didn’t hurt anything?” the
elder inquired, thrusting out her huge belly.
“Well, that.
But you didn’t act like it hurt!
‘Put it back in me, Stan!’”
“You ought to know. You said the same.”
Tissy scrubbed herself gently. “It only hurt once,” she said reminiscently,
“the time it bled. That scared me,
Cissy. It bled a lot!”
“Really?
A lot?”
“I’ll say!
It was all over Stan’s legs.”
“How in the world did you get it on Stan’s
legs?”
“I was on top.”
“In the summer house?”
“Yes.
I did it the same way the night we all went there together.”
“I remember.”
“While he was sucking your boobs.”
“Because my nipples are longer.”
“But mine are catching up.”
Cissy asked impatiently, “Aren’t you through
rinsing? Dry off and come to bed. Bring the towel just in case.”
Shortly the younger stood beside the bed
holding the towel. “Gosh, Cis, your
belly’s got big!”
“So’s yours.” Cissy levered away on her elbows. “Spread out the towel and come on. This was your idea.” She
opened her legs and regarded her sister challengingly.
Tissy’s expression became doubtful. “Maybe it only works for boys.”
“We won’t know unless we try.”
“Cissy …
What if you pee on me?”
“I won’t pee on you, silly!”
“You peed on Stan.”
“Well, then, don’t tickle me. He drove me crazy under the arms.”
“I’ll bet this tickles, too. Remember when we tried the feather?”
“Then you just have to mash harder. Come on, Tissy!”
“You do me first.”
“First?
Let’s do it together the way they did.”
“Don’t you think our bellies are too big?”
“No, I don’t. Come on. You get on top.”
Tissy assumed the recommended position with
evident reluctance. Her eyebrows
rose. “Gosh, Cissy, your belly’s hard!”
“So’s yours.
No, don’t lay down. Stay up on
your knees. I’ll wrap my arms around
your butt and pull up.”
A moment later Tissy’s eyes widened. “Oh!” she gasped. “Oh, Cissy, that feels better than your fingers.”
A muffled voice retorted, “Then show me
how it feels!”
“Okay.
Just don’t do it too hard.”
For several minutes thereafter the voices on
the bed were incoherent. At last Tissy
rotated her body to lie parallel with the other. “Oh, Cissy!”
The elder grunted. “It’s a darn good thing it’s raining.”
“Huh?”
“You’re a loud mouth. Anybody would’ve thought you were dying.”
“Oh.”
The younger giggled. “Stan said
that, too.”
“You don’t have to holler so.”
“I don’t know what I do then. They were right, Cissy.”
“Who was?”
“Those two boys. Mouths are better than hands.
And mouths and hands are even better.”
“You think so?”
“Just not as good as …”
“Cocks.”
The younger sighed. “Not as good as Stan’s, anyway.”
“The second time.”
“Huh?”
“Not as good as Stan’s the second
time.”
“Oh.
You’re right.”
“I’m thinking there’s two cocks just on the
other side of that wall.”
“Might as well be on the moon.”
kellis@dhp.com
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