Hijinks in the hallway.

I usually wore a t-shirt and boxers to bed, and I didn’t think twice about walking to the bathroom to brush my teeth in that outfit. After all, Marisa and Jessica had been seeing me dressed that way for the last year.

My bedroom was farthest from the bathroom, though Marisa's was almost directly across the hallway. Then came Jessie's and then Traci's, so I had to walk past all three girls’ rooms on the way. Both Jessica and Marisa had their doors closed, but Traci’s was open. Naturally, I glanced inside as I moved by. And then I stopped dead, and just stared.

Traci was lying on her bed, wearing nothing but a bra and panties. . . except those were no panties, that was definitely a little black g-string she had on. I took a minute to drink in the full picture: Traci’s long toned legs, her flat stomach, the pert tits encased only in a lacy black bra, her crystal clear blue eyes boring into mine, daring me, and her hand slipping down inside her g-string to lightly stroke her pussy. “I’ve been touching myself and thinking about you, Mike,” the blonde told me softly.

I know what I should have done--I should have charged into that room, dropped my boxers, and tapped that for all I was worth. That’s certainly what the testosterone pounding through my body and the cock tenting my boxers were telling me to do.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Maybe if I’d known Traci better, if we’d eased into it, if she hadn’t looked so sure of herself, so confident and so filled with lust, maybe then I would have done it. But I was still a geeky 11th grader who got tongue-tied around pretty girls. A hot, horny, almost naked woman was way beyond me. I was scared, plain and simple. So I started to back away into the hallway, hating myself for it but unable to make myself move in the other direction.