Finding the Shape of Love - Chapter 8

“Well, I suppose so. I wonder why I did it.”

It had been discovered that Yoko had been tampering with my underwear. Since it couldn’t just be swept under the rug, I decided to hear her out until she felt satisfied, so I vaguely prompted her like that.

In response to my question, Yoko clenched both fists tightly on her lap and began speaking hesitantly, as if afraid.

“W-well, at first… I was conscious of just looking, and I tried not to touch.”

According to Yoko’s story, she had always liked me a lot, but it apparently started when she was in third grade and I became a middle school student, resulting in us having separate rooms. Feeling lonely and yearning for me, she unconsciously began masturbating every day.

Well, it’s pretty common for kids to touch themselves because it feels good somehow. Some kids probably do it to distract themselves from feeling restless. That part is fine, I guess.

It became a habit, and as her mind and body grew, she apparently realized her feelings for me were love. Though I think, isn’t that not love? But pointing that out here wouldn’t help, so I’ll let that slide too.

Since we’re sisters and it’s obvious I don’t feel that way, she couldn’t confess her feelings and could only spend her days vainly digesting her pent-up emotions.

Um, you’ve been being incredibly frank since a while ago, but do you really need to go into such detail about masturbating? Your face is red and you keep glancing at me, but am I getting dragged into another one of Yoko’s abnormal fetishes?

Anyway, so apparently, on the surface Yoko was meekly my little sister, but behind the scenes she was always thinking about me. And the trigger for her finally touching my underwear in question was apparently when her period started. She was embarrassed about her own soiled underwear being seen even though she’d washed it, and when she tried to hide it deep in the washing machine by turning it inside out, she ended up grabbing my underwear instead.

Because of her heightened libido during her period, she did something she normally wouldn’t do, and after that she kept repeating the act fearfully and guiltily. But since I never noticed at all, by about a year later she was using them almost daily as a matter of course.

An outrageous confession had come out. So that means almost all my underwear in my possession has been used. I didn’t want to know that.

It’s true that around that age I also started feeling embarrassed about my underwear being visible in the washing machine, even around family, so that emotional flow is very understandable both as a girl and as family.

But I see, the time her period started – even if she didn’t announce it, living together you’d know. Meaning from one year after that until now, huh. Hmm.

As for me, I’m totally creeped out and disgusted, but whether I’m touched or dirtied, I wear them after they’re washed anyway, so it’s fine in a way.

If it’s not in that weird meaning, like if we were traveling and someone ran out of changes, I’m totally the type who’d be fine sharing underwear with family. Not because it’s Yoko – I’d be fine with Mom too.

So, if she promises not to do it anymore, and even if she actually does, as long as I can live carefree thinking she’s not, that would have been fine.

But knowing this much detail, what should I do? Learning about the strength of Yoko’s libido again, I don’t feel like a simple “don’t do it” will suffice at all.

I do it too, though not as much as Yoko. I understand that when you get horny, you can’t stand not doing it. Having all your favorite “side dishes” taken away when you’ve been using them until now would be troubling. What to do?

“Yoko, it must be embarrassing, but thank you for confessing.”

“…Yeah. It’s my fault.”

I’ll accept those feelings honestly right now. Because I’m your big sister.

“So I’ll also cast aside shame and be frank with you, Yoko – I do it too. By myself. So, I understand the feeling.”

“Eh? You too, Sis?”

“Just to be clear, I don’t mean using other people’s underwear.”

“Yes.”

“So, basically, I have sexual desires too. Everyone does. It’s embarrassing, but it’s not wrong and not something to feel inferior about. That’s fine, right?”

“…Sis.”

If she thinks she shouldn’t do it or forcibly suppresses it, I’d be troubled if it gets strangely warped. Or rather, I feel like the current situation is already the result of it being warped. But anyway, taking away perversion from a super-perverted person is pointless.

“But you mustn’t cause trouble for others or do bad things because of it. You understand, right?”

“…Yeah. Sorry.”

“If you promise not to do it anymore, that would be fine. But whether you can endure it is the problem. Do you think you can endure it?”

“……”

“……”

Seems impossible. Even if she lies here, it won’t solve the problem, and even if she thinks she can do it but ends up failing, that’s no good either. Knowing your own capabilities is a good thing.

To be honest, I’d prefer she satisfy herself with some other “side dish” that isn’t me, but we can solve that gradually. For now, the immediate problem is that now that I know, I don’t want her using my underwear. As a compromise…

“For example, if you could be satisfied with just one set of underwear, I could provide that.”

“Eh… n-no. That. After all, freshly taken off ones, or ones worn for the whole day that day are… n-never mind.”

“That’s not ‘never mind,’ but I don’t want to hear details, so it’s impossible anyway, right?”

I thought it was a fairly reasonable compromise, but I see. If it’s sexually unsatisfying for her fetish, then there’s no helping it.

“Hmm, well then, the day before yesterday, Yoko, you came just from me touching your shoulder, right?”

“Huh? Th-that’s ridiculous.”

“If just touching your shoulder is enough, I could do that for you.”

“…O-one more word.”

Eh, she’s getting carried away. What a troublesome one. Hmm. But you do it every day, right? Accompanying you beyond that every day would be tough. I have times when I’m in the mood for that and times when I’m not.

“Tell me your specific requests. Of course, no accompanying or anything, but what ‘side dishes’ can you think of instead of using my underwear?”

“…C-could I… look at you, Sis? Ah, no, n-not in a weird way! That… even with clothes on, just looking is fine, and if I can look while doing it, that’s sufficient, or rather…”

I see. Since it’s me, even my clothed form can be a “side dish,” so if she can look while doing it, she doesn’t need underwear.

That’s being present during masturbation. That goes beyond weird meaning to perverted. Beyond super-perverted to super-deviant.

No, you know, it’s not that I don’t understand the feeling. Purely in imagination, I can completely understand imagining that kind of situation becoming a “side dish.”

But whether you want to actualize it is a completely different story, and at that point it’s just perverted. Even if you like molestation stories, if asked whether you actually want to be molested, you wouldn’t want to.

“…If you don’t dirty the room and do it quietly, well, fine.”

“Eh!? R-really!?”

Even so, no other alternatives come to mind. If she doesn’t interfere with my things and doesn’t require my hands, that’s much better than me having to do something for her. Should I say “as expected of Yoko”? She’s pushing right up against the limit of what I can compromise on.

“Though I don’t mean forcibly, if your libido is so high that you absolutely want to use my underwear, then rather than doing something bad elsewhere, looking at me is fine, I mean. Understand? Can you promise?”

“Y-yes, I can!”

“O-oh. W-well, that’s that. Resolved. This conversation is over. Okay, good night.”

She replied with super energetic smiling, so while feeling awkward, this finally resolves it. Phew, that was long. Let’s sleep soon.

I stood up and said goodbye while pulling Yoko’s shoulder. Yoko stood up fidgeting, but even after my hand left her shoulder, she didn’t start moving, instead raising her face to peek gently from around my chest.

“U-um, Sis… that… c-could I, even starting now?”

“…Yeah, well, fine.”

With this flow, coming to someone’s room with a pale face and saying you want to masturbate so badly you can’t wait until now – your libido is outrageously excessive, you know?

I thought that, but it’s true I disturbed her in the bath, and she seemed excited during our earlier exchange too, so maybe that’s why.

I won’t refuse, but I think Yoko said something about making an effort to be liked as a person, not as a sister – or was that my imagination?

After getting my permission, Yoko restlessly looked around, confirmed the door was properly closed, made sure it was locked too, then gently returned to sit on my bed.

“Wait a minute. What are you trying to do normally on someone else’s bed? Unbelievable.”

“Eh, but I can’t do it without sitting.”

“Bring a cushion from your room or something, and, um, where the trash can is, move the trash can and go there. Leaning against the wall would be better, right?”

“Th-the trash can spot!? Am I like, human trash!?”

“That wasn’t my intention.”

It wasn’t, but Yoko is probably trash. I’m trash too, so we’re trash sisters. Wahahaha. Not funny.

“Just hurry up, I’m not free, you know.”

“O-okay.”

Yoko hurried out of the room, brought back a small heart-shaped cushion, moved the trash can beside the bookshelf where it was placed, and sat there.

My room has a walk-in closet on the left when you enter. It’s symmetrical with Yoko’s room next door, with the closets butting against each other. Since I placed a bookshelf beside its entrance, it’s hard to hear each other’s sounds. I don’t want the closet door broken from leaning against it, and the door side would let sound carry to the hallway, so this was meant as a kind proposal anyway.

Yoko rubbed her bottom against the cushion to secure comfortable seating, then hesitantly, as if reluctant, began touching herself over her clothes first.

After about 5 minutes she came, so I thought it was over, but then it was like a switch flipped and she became bold, going for about 30 minutes before Yoko left trembling.

She was so unsteady I got a bit worried and gently touched her clothed back, but she twitched again so I let her go back alone.

“Ah.”

Only after finally being alone did I notice. I’d given Yoko wet wipes to wipe her hands since it’s dirty, but she naturally put that trash in my trash can that she’d avoided.

She took the cushion back with her, but from now on I’ll have her take the trash back too.

Thinking that, I also got into bed feeling unsettled. After that, I too couldn’t stand it anymore, did it, then slept.

The next morning my self-loathing was terrible, so thinking it over carefully, I didn’t need to watch her doing it, and I resolved in my heart to be careful from today on.