Taylor is...

Watson is getting ready for bed in his room. His bedtime habits are too strong for Taylor's unknown presence to affect. He wonders what Taylor and Cary are doing, what they're up to, if Cary is holding up her side of the deal. He did feel a little guilty that the two of them are conspiring against Taylor to see what's in her pants. But it's all in good fun, or at least that's what he told himself. There's a layer of friendship and care beneath it. In the same way you ask a friend to share a deep secret to increase a bond, but not instead that's a penis(potentially). His feelings are not clear. In reality he couldn't picture Taylor being... something other than a girl. How would he feel if she was different, if she was something else? Who knows. His curiosity cannot be stopped, and he's bringing Cary along with him (who didn't have to be convinced even a little to be fair).

In a white T-shirt and forest green boxer briefs he walks across the hall to the bathroom, the lights on, but the door is cracked open, Schrodinger's bathroom door, so to speak. He pushes it open calmly without hesitation and there is Taylor standing over the sink, a foamy toothbrush in her mouth. Watson sees her with the least amount of clothing he has ever seen her, and this is still a normal amount. She's wearing a tank top that used to be white but has turned a pale cream from being washed with colors and hot water. No bra, bedtime attire.

A half-second turned into an eternity. A fundamental male experience when a girl's boobs are finally open to view. Like children for the mines, the eyes yearn. Taylors boobs are quite beautiful, petite and small, firm, but not as firm as they could be, hang down a little but have a wonderfully round symmetry to them; Watson could do naught but look and desire. All he has is this half-second before eye contact must be made. But that is more than enough to perfectly describe her body in his mind, he only hoped she was doing that same with the semi growing in his boxers. Besides the tank top she has on pajama bottoms that don't show much of her legs, but do show her butt in quite a nice fashion, from the side he's looking at her at least.

In the same moment he looked at her, a sudden wave of self-conscious embarrassment overcame her. Her face turned red, she almost choked on her toothbrush, and her eyes looked for a place to escape.

Watson! Why-what-ah! He's in boxers, his bulge I can see his bulge oh-my-god. You're **** Taylor you're ****.

"Sorry, sorry," said Watson. "Didn't mean to startle you. I need to brush as well."

Taylor spat some foam into the sink, "I'm so embarrassed sorry--you were just so quiet coming in here. How do you live with 2 girls and still manage to sneak around."

"Maybe I sneak around because I live with two girls." He walked up to the sink beside her and put a toothpaste covered brush into his mouth. "You ever consider that?"

Taylor felt a gush of love in her tummy, but could only manage an eye roll, a blush, and to stare down into the sink where she spat some more foam before washing up.

Now's your chance Taylor, go to hug him, just a little hug goodnight what's the big deal?

"Okay--well, goodnight!" Taylor reached with both hands and grabbed him around the torso. Watson was a little shocked, and the eager embrace only lasted for a few seconds.

Eep! I can feel his dick on me... It's pressing against my hip... I want to feel it grow... I want to feel it grow inside me...

"Night, Taylor, see you tomorrow morning I guess."

'Mhm." She nodded her head and pursed her lips like a smitten child. Watson heard her close the door to Cary's room. His bulge was suddenly slightly larger than it was before.