Turn

The Turn.

— So, little sister, what are you up to here?" Max monotonously

uttered. The cameras began clicking, a strange whisper was heard: "Oh yes, I like high technology. No wires, no big batteries, no need for someone else's consent..."

Maxim is 22, tall, fair-haired, with gray eyes and long fingers, a bit skinny, just a regular guy. His sister is 20, with light curly hair, bright blue eyes, a sly smile, full breasts, a sporty tummy.

 —Switching to the rear camera, zooming in, and what do we see there? — a hoarse voice broke through the silence. — Oops, naked guys and girls! Tsk tsk tsk, little sister. And now the top camera.

The so-called top camera was installed on a shelf above the computer among some plush animals like bears, crocodiles, monkeys, and it looked directly at the chair of the observed subject. Leaning back a little, putting one foot on the large, soft armchair, she opened her robe, waiting for something, then took it off completely. Maxim, feeling tension in his body, also decided to lean back, removing his sweaty hand from the keyboard. Katya began to breathe deeper and sharper, noticeable by her frequently rising and falling chest. Immediately, she changed her position, spreading both legs apart, throwing them onto the large armrests of the chair. The bright light from the monitor illuminated her tanned body, the faint glimmer of a gilded pendant on her chest was visible. The fingers of her left hand began to massage her nipples in alternating circular motions, while the nails of her right hand stroked the inner part of her thigh, slowly rising from her right knee to the untanned skin from underwear and descending to her left knee.

Maxim's long fingers began to move in time with the muffled sound of music, lightly squeezing his member, but firmly gripping the head. His slightly open eyes didn't shine as brightly as at the beginning: there was no smile on his face, no shifting thoughts and ideas in his head, no excitement, no problems or worries—only sensations.

With her somewhat thin hands, Katya began stroking both thighs, crossing her arms and pressing her breasts together in the process. A couple of times, licking her breasts from the top, she arched her back, thrusting them forward, grabbed the armrest tightly with her left hand, bending and pressing her legs against the chair, and with the fingers of her right hand began pressing hard above her clitoris. From the speakers came a barely audible voice, directed somewhere downward: "Quiet, girl, quiet." Her breathing was frequent and intermittent, her wide-open mouth and tightly closed eyes distorted her pure face, as if expressing terrible pain.

A sticky liquid, somewhat reminiscent of childhood paper glue, glistened on her fingers, and on her face, as if on a statue, a slightly open little mouth with barely visible teeth froze. The gleam of her palm moving in the air was only interrupted by the glow of her satisfied eyes.

Holding the condom on at the base of his member with one hand, Maxim squeezed it with the other, running his hand over it from start to finish with all his might. Each downward motion of his hand created a loud squelching sound from the rubber. This sound, echoing throughout the room, was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door:

 —Max, is everything okay...?

Looking at the screen, Maxim increased the speed of his hand on his member, making the sound even louder. He understood that his mother was behind the door and he needed to open it, but the desire to reach the same satisfaction didn't leave him. A repeated knock on the door was heard and a voice with more force:

 —Maxim...

His gaze was fixed on his moving hand, and after a few seconds, the transparent condom was filled with warm fluid, his hand slowly jerking his member, barely touching the head. Each jerk caused a soft moan, a strong sucking in of Max's stomach, his head bowing to the desk, and the stretched piece of rubber filling more and more. His member began to slowly shrink with each heartbeat, but Maxim didn't let go, continuing to hold the base of the blue rubber ring with one hand and squeezing with the other, leaving the head untouched.

Quickly pulling on his shorts without removing the condom, Maxim expanded the video to full screen and jumped to the door.

 —Maxim, what's going on here and what's that smell?

 —Everything's fine. What did you want?

 —There's some strange noise in your room, it's audible throughout the apartment.

 —I was cutting bags here, that's why the sound.

 —What bags?

 —Regular ones, — Maxim said in a fading voice, gasping and swallowing saliva.

His mother's gaze descended down his bare body, falling on Max's trembling hands and noticeably protruding shorts. Then it rose, fixing on her son's face—Max's face was red with glassy eyes. Her expression changed: it became very embarrassed and confused.

 —I see, — she said, turning her head towards the computer, her voice even quieter.

 —We have to get up early tomorrow. Clean up your room later, and tell Katya to clean up too—an acquaintance is coming to visit me.

 —Okay.

His speech at the end of the conversation was noticeably more cheerful than at the beginning. After his mother left, Max immediately pressed against the door, listening to the creak of hinges in his parents' room. Waiting a couple of minutes, he pulled the handle. Shuffling footsteps echoed in the hallway, approaching the bathroom. Entering the bathroom, Maxim lowered his shorts, then began slowly pulling the shapeless piece of latex off his limp member. The friction between the head and the condom involuntarily bent his body, leaning Max forward.

 —Wow, what are we doing here! — a clear voice from the doorway hit him right in the back.

 —The latch! — this word, echoing, hammered into Max's brain, deafening him.

For the first time in his life, someone's voice caused all-consuming horror, robbing him of the ability to reason or think at all. Max let go of the rubber ring.

 — Gotcha, little brother, — the intonation of a winner vibrated down his spine, and lips repeating this phrase hung in his closed eyes.

Pulling himself together, Maxim bent over and began slowly pulling up his shorts. A creak of familiar hinges was heard in the hallway, but the sound was somehow muffled. Turning his head slightly and glancing towards the voice, Max saw Katya standing in the room, closing the door with the latch he had cursed a thousand times.

 —Forgive you or not? You know, I could have not come in and closed the door behind me like all normal people, with the latch, or I could have called mom and said something. For example: Maxim is doing something weird in the bathroom. Come look,... Sounds good, huh? Do you even understand what that means? Now—you owe me. — As if nothing had happened, she approached the mirror and began smoothing imaginary wrinkles under her eyes with her middle fingers. — Well, why are you standing there like a statue, finish your business! Don't be shy! — the sarcastic mockery caused the shocked Max disgust, first with himself, and second... , and second again with himself, which made it even worse.

 —Turn around.

 —Don't worry, I'm not looking.

To check, Max glanced in her direction. She was indeed smoothing invisible wrinkles. Yanking the condom—his legs buckled slightly, and he leaned forward. Katya, watching her brother's reflection in the mirror and seeing his movements, smiled broadly.

 —Hmmm, I see you're having a hard time. — Turning around, Maxim collided with eyes in the mirror. Her gaze and smile burned right through him.

 —You promised... — a sound came from his parched throat.

 —Well, sorry. It was an accident... — the smile on her face shone with renewed strength.

 —I need to take a shower.

 —Go ahead. Or maybe you want to together? — his sister's sick jokes only intensified Max's anger at his own carelessness.

 —Enough...

 —If you could see your face, it's just too much. A little boy caught being indecent! But honestly, you spied on me—I messed with you.

 —You knew? — taken by surprise, Maxim sat on the edge of the bathtub.

 —Pffff, of course I knew! Your terrible setup and cameras sticking out everywhere in my room even surprised me a little. What shoddy work, Maximka. Oh, by the way, I ran here straight from your computer, and you no longer have a certain video with me in the starring role. Well, anyway—even though neither you nor I have any evidence of what we did—you owe me.

 —Why is that? — the words were said without thinking, because Max's brain was already unable to process or evaluate what he heard.

 — If you tell what you saw, I'll gain an extra trio of admirers, male and female, but if I tell that my grown-up little brother likes to spy on his little sister, then your idiot friends will mock you for the rest of your days. A little more and everyone will know your little secret. Life's unfair, huh? — the phrases Kat said were perceived somewhat chaotically, getting terribly tangled in his head. However, from the whole set, only one thing began to repeat—They'll find out. After several mental repetitions, Maxim heard this word from his own lips.

 —They'll find out...

 —Yes, they'll find out, — adding, — they might find out.

His sister's voice was colder, more reasoned, and calculating than ever, and the situation itself was calculated down to the smallest detail, completely disarming Maxim.

 —Katya, you're my sister... — a look of horror and hope in one bottle fell towards Katya.

 —That's exactly why you'll do what I say, that's exactly why mom won't find out anything, and that's exactly why everything can stay between us. No matter how you look at it, you'll have to fulfill my request.

 —What do you want? — the last thing Max could squeeze out of himself.

 — Don't rush, it's not time yet. Get in the shower.

Katya left, immediately running into the question: "What's going on with you two?". "Nothing, mom, I just straightened Max's whiskey." The answer was as sharp as the question, after which she quickly walked past her mother, leaving her bewildered, heading to her room.

The conversation spinning in the air prevented sleep. The usual heavy blanket was even heavier, and the long-unfluffed pillow even harder. Having thought it all over, Maxim came to the conclusion that only one thing remained—to wait. The decision, clearly not the best, but it gave at least some peace and hope for sleep. His eyes closed—his body floated on the waves.

II

 — Katya, Natalya Vladimirovna is coming not for a day, but for two. Her negotiations were rescheduled.

 —Why Katya? — biting off only a piece of cheese from a huge sandwich, an indignant voice was heard.

 — Because she'll be sleeping with you.

 — What kind of news is that and how do you imagine that?

 — Simple. Your bed is wide—you'll fit.

 — Then let her go to a hotel, there are actually lots of beds there and they're all empty.

 —Okay, you're talking too much. Natasha asked me for help, and I can't refuse her. It's just for one night, — a strong argument that his sister could no longer counter with anything.

 —Need to act, — from the thought that arose, Maxim choked on his bread roll.

 —Katya, take out the trash.

 — Let Maxim do it.

 —Maxim is still eating, and you've already eaten, — looking at the eaten cheese and drunk tea, his mother said quite convincingly.

Hearing the slam of the front door, Maxim stuffed the entire bread roll into his mouth to his mother's surprise, rushed to his room, grabbed two cameras, and dashed to Katya's room.

The doorbell rang. "Come in, come in..." — from his armchair, Max heard a commotion in the hallway. The acquaintance turned out to be a very beautiful thirty-five-year-old woman. Her figure and attire (a black short skirt, shiny tights, a light jacket, and a bright red blouse with golden buttons) by all indicators turned her into a secretary from the movies. The tight-fitting blouse strongly emphasized her breasts, and the top buttons were unbuttoned. "This is Maxim and Katya" — mom smiled, pointing with her hand. "Very nice, Natasha" — a sparkling look and a showy smile were directed their way.

After Natalya Vladimirovna extended her hand, Max's gaze caught a glimpse of lace peeking out from under her blouse. To his carelessness, he was caught by Natasha, squinting slightly and still smiling: "How grown-up." To Natasha's smile was added Katya's smile, who was watching what was happening. "Yes, all grown up now" — looking at Katya, his mother said. Maxim averted his gaze. "Well, let's go to your room" — his mother's voice ended the torture for Max.

Entering the room, Maxim sat on the sofa opposite Natasha. His eyes immediately fell on her legs crossed one over the other, or more precisely, on the top floral-patterned edge of her tights. The bra lace and the revealed patterns of the tights shifted Natasha from the category of secretaries to the category of call girls, and it became completely unclear what kind of meeting or negotiations she had come for. In conversation with his mother, Natasha again caught Max's gaze and smiled again. Deciding not to tempt fate, he went to his room.

Sitting in front of the computer, Maxim kept listening, glancing at the clock. "Come on, it'll work out" — rang in his ears. "Okay, that's it, go to bed, they'll be going to bed soon too..." — "Okay, mom." His heart beat faster, the ringing turned into a drumbeat.

III

 —You have a good brother, — looking at the huge nightgown ceremoniously handed to her on herself, Natasha said.

 — I know, he's great, — Kat smiled in response.

 —Sorry for imposing on you like this. Not every day you have to sleep with strangers.

 —No, it's nothing. I understand, — the dim light of the wall lamp illuminated her contorted face.

 —You look tired. Had a hard day? — combing her long, evenly cut hair, Natasha asked.

 — Yes, a little tired. — Katya finally lay down on the raised edge, covering herself with a thin blanket.

 —Alright, I'm going to bed too, I have a tough day tomorrow.

Natasha began to crawl over Katya, throwing a leg and an arm over her, but something pulled the nightgown. "Well, there, got caught" — turning around, Natasha said. Katya's eyes fell into the heavily sagging collar of the huge shirt. The firm, shapely breasts with small nipples against the backdrop of spread,