Make her masturbate.

I absently felt my eyes wander up and down Abigail's body as she straightened. Her back looked soft enough to set a cheek on, and light danced across her partially exposed torso. I swallowed. Before I could help it, a voyeuristic urge awakened in me.

Past the crevice of the door and over the messy bed, I concentrated and drilled my eyes into my sister. I thought of a fishing rod being thrown into the ocean. Then, dug the hook into the crook of her mind. I stood back, and waited for it to take effect.

Suddenly, my sister slowly lifted her head up from the ground. She expended one last look throughout her room and around the closet doors. Then, she sighed in futility and flopped to the bed, her hair pooled at her head. "Oh well. Guess I'll just have to do it the old-fashioned way."

Before my eyes, she fixed her gaze on the ceiling, steadied her breaths, then snaked her hand under her breezy shorts and slowly began moving it in circles against her clit, the bulge of her rustling hand moving under the crotch of her shorts. I gulped, seeing a sight that I'd never in fact seen in my life face to face. Nor had I really expected to. I had always thought my sister was decent-looking. But now I realized just how pretty she could look. Who knows how much the surge of power I was going through had to do with it, though.

But one thing that was for certain; this was a free show, and I was her audience, and I was unimaginably stirred by the idea of it. Of me seeing this, simply because I had desired to.

Next, after warming up her pot, Abigail brought her other hand up and pushed it onto her breast, which she began squeezing while her index finger flicked against the protrusion of her little nipple. Like an ape swatting a fly, she pushed the bra out of the way and kneaded her breast in all its soft, naked suppleness. Her nipple began poking outward under her finger. It looked as hard as a bullet yet soft as an eraser.

A minute or two of silent, mild pleasure passed when she finally mumbled something.

"Ughmp, I really, don't do this often," his sister's marred dialogue broke through my mesmerized examination, but not the attention her ribald actions demanded of me. Her hips slowly swished back and forth against her hand as her face contorted with eschewed brows, "but I should probably start. It... really... helps... kill... ooheumrgh!... t-time..!"

The movements grew more frenetic. Her hand squished against her breast, her nipple wedged underneath her fingers, and her clit was now being explored with fervent lust. Her shorts were a rippling mess. Underneath, her hand tremored like an electrocution session, and a hot breath left my lips as a part of me hardened as well. Instinctively I pictured how she'd look with the release of all this titillating sexual energy.

My sister yelped. On the bed, her body was adequately seized by an orgasmic coil and she brought her legs up, bent at the knee. Pressing her arm down, she buried her excitable hand into her now undoubtedly wet pussy, between her two smooth legs. They slammed tightly together, then spasmed back out. At yet another twitch, they were brought together yet again and, lifting her ass from the bed, she gyrated it against the air with her hand still clamped between her thighs while an airy moan came out of her throat.

This was it, I realized with a working hand of my own, just below the discounted belt I found at a Goodwill.

This was a fresh young woman, orgasming right before me, and she was my sister, and the implications of the situation around it were as much of a turn-on as I'd premeditated. From this display it seemed that soon I would even be joining her.

In my erratic state, however, it was too stimulating, too good, to have ended so... quickly.

More, my inner animal cried, taking in the sexiness of her physically tensed, ****, helpless body in front of me. More!

She had begun to relax and her body was in the middle of falling back onto the bed when suddenly Abigail jerked back upward again and bit her lip. Her hips carried her body upward in a flexible arch, and she moaned, her hand dived into her pussy once again, this time even more rapidly than before.

Yes, I thought, yes! Rub, went my hand, rub, rub. Feel hot! Feel sexy! Feel overcome by your own internal lust, sis! Let it out, let it all out, let the good feelings drown you in the best orgasm you've ever had! I was nearly wanking my own popsicle stick off now. I'd subconsciously leaned against the doorway for support when my sister shouted out through a gasp, one that sounded held in for the past two minutes at least.

"YEEEE-HE-HE-HEESSSS! YEESSS YEESSS YESS YESS YESS, FUCK FUCK, YESS, oh that's goood, so, fucking, GOOD! OOOOHHHMMM, yessssss! I'm so fucking hot, so fucking sexy, so.... fucking... GOOOD! Yes, yes, oh yes, I, I, I--aaammm, augh, uughhahHHGGRUMMMmmm!"

Not yet, I thought frantically, sensing she was on the verge yet scouring my mind for a way to cap this off with a cherry on top. Not yet! Orgasm... while singing a Taylor Swift song!

"Ooohh," my sister jarringly flung up her hip, her hand continuing to smother her slit as her orgasm continued and was rubberbanded back, her lips stumbling in an off-kilter, unconventional tangent, "I-I-I-hmm-hm-hmm, hm hm hmmm," she began through her mewling moans, trying to gather her breaths for a hum before grunting through gritted teeth and puffed cheek alike, "s-she weeeeaars hiyygh-yeeh h-heels, I w-wear TEEEh-shirts," she melodically slurred, her words occasionally falling into a pit of breathy squeaks as she fought against the unadulterated pleasure coursing through her gradually frying system, "she's chee-ee-eee-eEERRR CAPTAAIN and I'm on, the, oommmmmhhh, OOOHH, BLEEA--OOHH--CHERS, dreeaaa-hee-heeming of the dayy, when you'll wa-haake UP and FINDD, uhgh, fuck, that what you're-WHHHOREEE, mmph, looking for, w-was h-h-h-heeer, ARGGMFPH, the whoOOOOLLLEE, AGHHHGMMPH, TIIIMEEE OH YESS YESS FUCK, FUCK, FUUUCK MEE OOH!"

She squealed in part-frequency, part-tearful war cry. It looked like a miniature earthquake had occurred in her digestive tract, and her hand that wasn't plowing her vagina now swathed around her face and across her chest, squeezing and caressing anything it slid across. Her world shattered into fragments of utter bliss. The kind I hadn't seen before, in man, woman, or red panda. Her body shivered and jerked from one angle to the other, her pelvis now thrusting the air in a ridiculous back-and-forth motion. It swung low then took a sharp rise before circling back down and up again. It looked like she was bouncing an invisible beach ball with her vagina. You could've honestly told me that, and I probably would've accepted that and walked away, no questions asked.

Finally, after a splotch of pussy juice, after a deep, aggressive exhalation, and with pair of active shorts that were hiked all the way up to the curve of her lower buttocks and a brassiere that only made it halfway around her enticingly visible chest, like a heap of clothes, she collapsed onto her bed, lids draped over her eyes. Her hair was slightly disheveled underneath her, her strumming hand fallen across her bed. The other covered her lower abdomen. I watched in a minor respite of my own, captivated both with her display and what I had done to make it come to life, the warm seed of my own reproductive organ having smeared my pants.

And I also learned that my sis didn't have too bad of a singing voice. Wild guttural noises and profane outbursts and crying aside, at least. It could probably make for a good viral hit.