I had very little respect for my sister’s privacy when we were kids. I took advantage of any chance I had to go into her room when she wasn’t home. I would go through her things, play with her clothes, and read her diary. In hindsight, I really should feel bad for the fact that I knew extremely intimate things about her because I read every word that she wrote in her diary even though she was certainly wanting it all to be private.
My conscience never bothered me about that though. The day I felt guilt about what I was doing was an afternoon when I had been playing in her room and she surprised me by coming home unexpectedly. I had no time to get out of her room and I hid in her closet. She never closed her closet door, so I was hiding in there but not very well hidden. I was terrified she was going to find me, or worse that she would stay in her room for hours and I’d be trapped.
Instead, she came into her room, stripped completely naked, got dressed in her swimsuit, and left. She never noticed me standing in her closet watching her. I had never seen her (or any other girl for that matter) naked before and I was shocked and embarrassed and felt really guilty about it.
After dealing with those feelings for a few days, I decided I wanted to devise a plan to let her see me naked. That seemed like a fair punishment to myself for what I had done.
I wasn’t sure how I would possibly do it and make it look like an accident, and I spent weeks trying to come up with a plausible plan and I didn’t have any great ideas. Then one Saturday morning I was home alone and everyone had plans to be out for most of the day. I had gone into the bathroom to shower and left the door open since I knew I was alone.
While I was showering, I heard my sister come home. Normally not a big deal, even with the bathroom door open I was still completely covered in the shower. But then I had the idea that this was my chance. Even though I had heard her come home, I knew I could reasonably act like I didn’t know she was home. I got out of the shower and stood naked in the bathroom where I would be in plain view if she just walked by the door.
I waited and waited, nervous and embarrassed, and she never came out of her room. I walked from the bathroom to the kitchen naked, got a drink of water, spent some time in the kitchen, and she still never came out of her room. I was getting bored. I spent some time fully naked directly in front of her bedroom door, just hoping it would open and she would walk out, but she didn’t.
I was getting a little annoyed with just awkwardly walking around the house naked. I went back to the kitchen and got another drink, and while I was standing there with a glass of water, I heard her bedroom door open. I suddenly got very nervous, and realized it would be hard to explain why I was in the kitchen naked. Just because I thought I was home alone? It’s still weird.
I stood in a place where I’d be very visible as she came around the corner into the kitchen, but turned my head so I wouldn’t be looking in her direction. I heard her come towards the kitchen, but couldn’t see her and didn’t know if she could see me. I stood there naked, thinking that she might be watching me, but not sure, and I casually sipped the glass of water in my hands.
I finally turned and she wasn’t there. But I hadn’t heard her go back to her room either. I didn’t know if she had seen me, and more importantly I didn’t know where she was in the house. I walked towards her room and didn’t see her. Then, right in front of me, the bathroom door opened and she walked out. We were face to face about five feet apart.
I was filled with embarrassment, but also made no effort to cover myself. I commented that I thought I was home alone and she said something about thinking I heard her come in. She wasn’t looking at me, but clearly had seen me.
There was something very satisfying about knowing she saw me.
Now I want to find away to make myself feel better for reading her diary.
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