Throw on your boxers

My heart starts racing as my sister's footsteps on the stairs get louder. I try to call out a warning to her, even a 'don't come in' or a 'give me a minute," but with my embarrassment, panic, and arousal (I admit it), my voice is caught in my throat! My hands fumble with the elastic waistband of the boxers as I desperately try and get my legs into them.

The footsteps are right outside the door and the handle is already turning...