Enthusiastically

I love Sarah. Her confidence, her control, the size of her friend group. I often see her hanging out with her teammates and school friends, and am so jealous. They get to hang out with her outside of our own private time. And they just, do that. Together, in a big group. Sarah’s treatment of me at the party last week hasn’t made me any less shy, if anything I am now far more justified assuming anyone I meet has a terrible opinion of me. So big groups are not okay.

But… Sarah looks so calm and happy surrounded by her friends. I want to contribute to that. I am standing on the sidewalk, watching her on the training field for track and field events. My last class is out, and I have walked by here before. But this time I want to stay and watch. But like all the times in the past, that would be staying out in public for longer than necessary. A conundrum. But I want to at least watch her.

I creep closer, feeling like some kind of stalker trailing their crush despite being in a very active sexual relationship with her, one that even now leaves me sore every day. She may have let me off easy our first week together, but since then she hasn’t let me rest without swallowing at least one load, which she often follows with fucking me. I don’t talk much anyways, but now I fear my constantly sore throat would have difficulty talking for reasons beyond my shyness.

I spot the outdoor bleachers, and realize one set of them are near the wall of a building. If I can just get under those ones surreptitiously then I can watch my big sister all I want without anyone looking at me. But how to get there nonchalantly… I have no idea. What even is chalant? Chalantly? Why must the English language taunt me with my lack of etymological knowledge perfectly mirroring the gaps in my knowledge of basic human behavior!

Okay, stop panicking. It leads me to just stand in the middle of the sidewalk like a weirdo. There’s no walking path built to lead over there, but people walk on the grass for all kinds of reasons. Even to go places that paths can already take them, the anarchists. So obviously I can walk on the grass to go somewhere that has no path to it… but I would walk on less grass if I walked to the closest bleachers and then used them as a path to walk around the field and then stop at the nice bleachers with its underside hidden by the building. Yes. This is a plan.

I follow my walkway to its closest point to the bleachers, and then make a perfect 90 degree turn to quickly make my way under the bleachers. Of course, with no building to hide me here everyone can see me pass through the scaffolding layer and briskly walk in the opposite direction that I had been walking on the walkway before. I keep my eyes down, both to avoid noticing anyone noticing me, and to keep an eye out for low hanging scaffolding I need to step over every few feet.

As I reach the end of the bleachers, my head explodes in pain and a metal noise rings out. Rubbing my stinging head, I realize the edge of the bleachers have scaffolding at my head height. Scared to look around in case anyone is judging me, I scurry further along my chosen path. After passing the third set of bleachers, I can finally see my destination. My heart begins to pound. I’m actually going to make it. Part of me felt like some sort of sports police were going to swoop in and arrest me for being here despite not being in any sports. Or even knowing how most sports work.

My heart only really relaxes as I finally get to my destination, the bleachers by a wall, with only a small sliver of the outside world able to see underneath, with the walkway that can see under it more than three times as far away as most other walkways are from the bleachers… I try not to think about how much shorter my walk would have been if I had just walked from that walkway instead. But it would have been on more grass, so it was impossible.

Okay, I’m here now. Which means I can watch and admire my big sister Sarah in peace! “What are doing under here?”

I let out a breathy squeak as I jump around to confront the terror of an unfamiliar voice. Unsurprisingly I do not recognize the brown haired girl in front of me, although she’s wearing a track suit with the jacket undone and a white T-shirt underneath. So, probably someone who actually belongs in track and field. “Oh shit, I recognize you. Sarah’s sister! Pokémon girl. If you’re here to see Sarah she’s out on the field.”

… so what now? Do I just have an audience to me being an audience watching Sarah? “Uh, okay. Thanks.” My face is blazing with embarrassment and confusion at how to proceed… so I just stick to the plan. I crouch low to minimize the chance anyone sees me through the slits between bleacher seats, the slits of which are thankfully pretty small since the schools bleachers seats actually have backs. Too small to actually be comfortable backs but big enough to make the gap between rows much smaller. While I, and my unexpected guest, are not invisible back here, we are pretty hard to spot without squinting and looking carefully. From my crouched position I look out to try and spot Sarah.

“… so, are you going to go see her, or just spy on her?” I look back at my nosy guest. She’s pretty, like all Sarah’s friends. Not in a glamorous way with makeup and such, but in the way everyone looks nice when they stay in shape. I’m skinny, but it’s more a matter of metabolism and having a tendency to forget about the necessity of food while obsessing over something, usually Pokémon. Speaking of which, I forgot to eat lunch again. Planning this spy operation took all my time… she’s still looking at me.

“She’s busy, can just watch.” Although that’s not true if I can’t spot her. I know I saw her earlier when I was on the sidewalk. Where’d she go?

“…okay. Maybe we can talk while you watch. How was your first time having sex?” I stop breathing. What type of question was that?! I mean, I guess Sarah made the announcement to the whole party, even if it wasn’t actually true for that night. How do I escape this conversation? Leave? There is no easy escape, she’s blocking the side that leads back where I came from, there’s a wall behind me that’s basically the whole reason I came here, and the other side is a continuation of the wall, the building having an L shape. Physical escape is not an option. So mental escape is all I have. So I press myself low and forward, getting as close to the front bleacher seats as I can from underneath, and just scan the field as if I hadn’t heard anything. She isn’t here, I’m all alone.

“Is it true what Mary said about what Sarah was doing in the woods before you both came out and she made the announcement?” My face blazes red and my eyes tear up a little. I knew it was likely people would put two and two together, but I wasn’t ready to be confronted with it so suddenly. My social life is dead… well, it wasn’t really alive but still. “Are you okay? Shit, she isn’t hurting you or anything, is she?”

My anger flares, embarrassment and sadness instantly converted into righteous fury at the insinuation that Sarah could ever do anything that wasn’t best for me. I was Sarah’s! I begin to stand up to my full insignificant height to glower at her… and my head again explodes in pain. Having crawled forward under the bleachers, the seats above me leave little room to stand even for my short stature. The metal rings out loudly as my brain shakes from the impact, my head now having two sore spots. Undeterred I glare up at her to show my displeasure, one eye closed as it squeezes out a tear.

“Pffftttt.” She tries to contain her laughter. “I’m sorry, are you okay?” She still laughs as she talks.

“Mm fine… don’t talk bad about Sarah.” I glare harder at her, putting all of my intimidation abilities to bear. She chuckles at me pouting up at her while rubbing my head.

“Okay, but then why are you here watching and not, I don’t know, sitting on the bleachers?” Silly question. People could see me, the sun is not my friend, I’d be out in the open without a valid reason assigned to me, my head would explode and the world would end. Didn’t she know anything? I choose to ignore her silly question and look back out. I still haven’t been able to spot Sarah.

“What are you doing down there?” Oh, there she is. Peeking through the gaps between the bleachers, her eyes intently on me as she stands on the other side. “Wait there.” Rather than let me answer her question, she begins walking around and makes her way to join me under the bleachers.

I crawl away from the front of the bleachers so I can stand up beneath the taller seats in back, my face on fire again from embarrassment at having been caught, but also in happiness that I was going to talk to Sarah a little early today. Normally I would have to wait for her to finish, shower, hang out a bit with her friends, and then come back to our room.

Sarah approaches me wearing her track suit. “Hey little sis. What are you doing here?” Sarah also waves slightly to my bleachers associate, but keeps her eyes on me.

I want to hug her and tell her all about my adventure to get here so I could watch her be awesome, but this random girl was still here. “Just… wanted to say hi.” I say it low, while inspecting the ground and smiling. I was with Sarah, early! If only what’s her face wasn’t here.

“I was just asking earlier if she really gave you a blowjob.” What’s her face is now my enemy. But she also has now broken whatever Jedi mind trick she had pulled off that let me speak… well not normally but at least coherently in front of her. I now can’t make my neck lift my face, I’m just going to have to face the ground forever.

Sarah walks up to me and pulls me into a hug and pats my hair. “It’s not really any of your business, but she’s my personal cock sleeve. So I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bother her.”

I feel my face flare up again, both from her blatant and possessive words, and at my face being nestled between her breasts. I can smell her sweat and musk, and can’t help but squirm as the heat between my thighs begins to rival my face.

I can’t help but worry though. Sarah is being pretty blatant. And we’re roommates. The school won’t look kindly on us having this kind of relationship while living together. What if bleacher girl tells people?

“That’s pretty hot… can I watch?”