Time Stop Erotica

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Time Stop Erotica
“Oh come ON,” she said. “How are you doing this?”
“Luck,” I said with a shrug, and began to lower my pants. “Now come
on, Taylor—a bet’s a bet.”
One month earlier, I was nowhere near as confident that I’d be
able to use my abilities so effectively.
I absolutely fluked upon them in the first place—I’m glad I was
alone when I did, else I’m sure I’d be locked up somewhere while
scientists poked me with electricity or whatever.
No, I was alone in my room, reaching up and trying to take the
bottom Blu-ray out of a pile without tipping over the others.
I almost had it out, when I was startled by the start of the mower
starting up outside. I jumped, and of course the Blu-rays started to
go flying.
In a panic, I shut my eyes, and mentally shouted “No! Stop!” as
strongly as I could.
At that moment, the lawnmower stopped. It didn’t slowly die down,
or splutter out, it just…stopped.
For that second, I forgot about the Blu-rays, I forgot about the
pain that I should be feeling—I just hoped that whoever was mowing the
lawn was okay, and hadn’t got a leg caught in the engine or
whatever.
Glancing out the window, I saw it was my sister—she was wearing
jeans and a T-shirt, and I guess she’d taken our parent’s offer—twenty
bucks to mow the front lawn. She’s been saving for a car since
forever, and will do pretty much anything for money.
She wasn’t in pain, though—she was just leaning on the lawnmower,
standing perfectly still.
“Taylor?” I called out, but she didn’t respond…she didn’t even
move. Suddenly I noticed that she wasn’t leaning on the
lawnmower, she was…pushing it. It looked like a photo—she was using
all her weight to move it, like she’s always had to, but…it wasn’t
moving.
In fact, as I looked around, I realized that everything was
strangely still. But it wasn’t until I glanced back into my room that
I worked out what was really going on.
The tower of Blu-rays that I’d managed to topple was in the process
of falling, but it wasn’t moving. The Blu-rays were frozen in mid-air,
perfectly still. I leaned forward and plucked one out of the
air—despite being frozen in mid-air, I could move it without
trouble—and I threw it on the bed.
Out of curiosity, I thought “Go” at the pile, and to my surprise,
they began moving once more.
The clatter of the Blu-rays as they hit the floor was almost as
loud as the lawnmower, its engine abruptly audible once more—when I
glanced outside, I saw my sister’s relatively small frame barely
managing to move the huge machine.
What the hell is happening? I thought to
myself, and unable to resist, thought “Stop!” once more.
It happened again. Everything froze—my sister, the leaves moving in
the wind, the car I could see half a block away. I brought my head
inside the window in a panic—what if someone could see me?
Not now, of course—right now, no one could see me…I hoped. But what
if someone had been looking at the window when I had stopped the
world? If my head wasn’t poking out the window when I started
everything back up again, they’d know, they’d be able to see what I
could do.
I’d never truly known fear until that moment. I’d just discovered
the most amazing ability—in that moment, I could have done
anything—but the idea of being taken away and studied like a lab rat
was so terrifying to me that I put my head back out the window, tried
to emulate the position it had been in, and thought “Go!”.
Looking around, nothing seemed suspicious, but I vowed to never do
it again.
At least, not while anyone was looking.
I didn’t use my power again that day. That may seem
unbelievable, but I was pretty spooked—both by what I could do, and
what would happen if anyone found out. No, I didn’t think about it
until the next morning, when I woke up with morning wood and could
hear the sound of my sister in the shower.
My sister’s name is Taylor, by the way. We’re twins—not identical,
of course (you can only be identical if you’re the same sex) but we
look pretty similar. We’re close enough—we don’t have “twin powers” or
whatever twins are meant to have, and we’re not best friends, but we
don’t really fight much, and up until recently, we used to hang out
all the time.
What happened recently? Well, quite frankly…hormones hit.
You probably think I’m a perv, and I’m not going to bother excusing
myself. But if you had to live with a girl as hot as my sister, I know
you’d feel the same way. She’s gorgeous…no, more than that. Her face
is gorgeous, but her body is perfect .
Not, of course, that she’d ever show it off. She’s more of a “jeans
and a T-shirt” kind of girl—I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in a
skirt. Hell, since her boobs came in, I’ve never seen her wear less
fabric than three-quarter pants with a baggy T-shirt.
So when I woke up with a boner, and heard the sound of her singing
in the shower…I decided it was time that I got a better look.
“Stop!” I thought, and immediately all the sound stopped. And I
mean all the sound—not just the noise of Taylor’s
atrocious singing (my sister has a voice that could curdle milk) but
every single background noise. You don’t really think about how much
you can hear in day-to-day life. Birds, the wind—if you’re inside, the
hum of the lights, or a hard drive. There’s always a cacophony of tiny
sounds, but when I stop the world…there’s nothing.
The silence is almost deafening. I was suddenly so aware of it, I
had to start humming, just to convince my ears that they were
working. It helped.
I sleep with my bedroom door shut, but I was hoping that like the
Blu-ray, when I touched it I’d be able to move it. Sure enough, I was
able to open it without a struggle, and a few seconds later, I was
able to do the same with the door to the bathroom.
Fortunately my sister doesn’t lock the door when she showers—she
figures no one will come in. Well, normally she’d be right. Through
the frosted glass I wasn’t able to see much, but already it was a
better view of my sister’s naked body than I’ve ever had before.
I took a deep breath, stopped humming, and pulled the shower door
open.
To begin with, it was like a photograph. The water pouring down
her, trapped in that perfect moment…if it wouldn’t raise too many
questions if anyone ever found it, I would have pulled out my phone
and snapped it for posterity.
Taylor’s got long, black hair, and even though it was wet, it
flowed beautifully onto—but not covering—her breasts. And Jesus, those
breasts—they were everything I’d imagined they would be. Pert, full,
completely blemish-free. If I was an artist, I guarantee I could have
spent the rest of existence trying to capture the essence of what I
saw in the shower that day.
After a few minutes of staring at her tits, I had to check out the
rest of her. To my surprise, her pussy was shaved—not just trimmed,
but shaved bare. As far as I knew, Taylor didn’t have a boyfriend, so
I can only assume that she keeps her mound like that all the time.
I don’t know why I found that idea so hot, but I did.
It was tempting—so tempting—to reach out and touch her, but I
didn’t know what would happen if I did—what if it started time again,
or if she was aware of it?
Hell…what if she was aware of everything right now?
My heart-rate doubled as the idea sunk in. Maybe I’d frozen
everything physically , but she was still mentally aware
of what was happening. Maybe her glassy eyes were staring at me right
now, wondering why I was such a pervert, wondering how I’d gotten this
ability…
Freaked out, I stumbled backwards, knocking over a pile of towels
as I did. Shit! Now even if she wasn’t watching me, when
everything started up again, the towels would be different, and Taylor
would…
My head was spinning, my heart was racing, and I was on the verge
of a full-on panic attack. I sat there on the floor for a few minutes
(minutes? Can you even measure time when the world is stopped?) and
forced myself to calm down.
If Taylor could see me right now, and process that I was there…I
was screwed. But if Taylor could do it, then presumably so could
everyone else, and the issue would be less “my sister thinks I’m a
pervert”, and more “the world is aware of time sporadically
stopping.”
No one had said anything after I stopped time yesterday, and so it
was unlikely that they could detect it. But it was worth doing some
experiments to find out.
In the meantime, I needed to get out of there, and make it seem
like I’d never even entered. I took one last, long look at my sister’s
perfect body, shut the shower door, folded the towels as neatly as I
could and put them back, and went back to my room, where I started up
the clock once more.
The world suddenly seemed so loud—it had been years since the
clicking of my fish’s water filter had bothered me, but suddenly I was
super aware of it. It almost hurt, but as I lay there, I shut my eyes
and tried to let the sound in.
Within a few minutes, I felt like I could breathe again.
Opening the door, I could hear Taylor singing, the sound of Mom’s
bacon sizzling downstairs. Again, it looked like no one was aware of
what I could do, what I was doing.
Though I wanted to explore further, I didn’t feel like tempting the
fates. And when I heard the shower turn off, I decided that
experimentation could wait until tomorrow.
Any time I got a chance that day, I pulled out my phone and
read everything I could about time-travel. Unproven, thought to be
impossible…there was certainly nothing suggesting that a teen boy
could just think the word “no” and create some kind of personal
time-stop vortex or whatever.
I’ll tell you, I have no idea how it happened, or even why it
happened. Maybe some kind of God had bestowed me with a rare gift, or
aliens had decided to use me as the target of their
experiment. Perhaps I was to represent humanity, in some kind of
celestial test.
Or perhaps I was just a freak, somehow able to do what should have
been impossible.
Either way, the thought was terrifying. I could change the
world…hell, if I screwed up, perhaps I could destroy the world. But
that wasn’t where my mind went—since seeing Taylor in the shower, all
I could think about was seeing more— doing more with
her.
Beforehand, I’d been weirdly attracted to my sister. Now that I’d
seen the perfect body she was hiding under her clothes, I was
obsessed. Why did she keep herself perfectly shaved? Was it purely an
aesthetic thing, or was it more than that?
The image of her stroking her hairless pussy never left my
mind. Now that I’d seen it, I wanted to touch it, taste it…and do so
much more.
What’s more, I could. I could just wait until she was next
showering, freeze time, and have total access to my sister.
Over the next few days, I came onto my own stomach more than a few
times, thinking about what I could to do my helpless, unaware, naked
twin. But my gift was still new, and I had no idea how it worked.
If I hadn’t been living in the same house as my perfect-bodied
twin, I’m sure that Grace would’ve been the subject of my
attention—she’s not a stone-cold fox like Taylor is, but she’s
definitely a cutie. The classic “girl next door”, I guess, and she’s
always liked me a little.
I figured she was the perfect test subject.
“Hey Grace,” I said, hoping my smile didn’t give away how nervous I
felt.
“Hey man,” she replied casually. “How’s things?”
We made small-talk for a few minutes, and then I got to my real
point.
Grace’s family have a pool—as a kid, it was pretty great being her
neighbor. All the advantages of having a pool, none of the chores
required. Now that we were all teenagers, we didn’t really go swimming
together as often, but on hot days like this one it wasn’t unheard
of.
“Sure,” she said, exactly as I hoped she would. “Just let me get
changed.”
“I’ll meet you back here in ten,” I said. I waited until Grace had
gone inside, counted to fifty, and did it.
Stop, I thought, and sure enough, the world
froze. I’d made sure I was in a spot that no one could see this time,
and I’d even left all the doors open so there was a clear path between
me and Grace’s bedroom.
I’d timed it perfectly—when I entered, Grace was in the process of
pulling down her panties. I stared in amazement at the second pussy
I’d ever seen—unlike my sister, Grace didn’t shave hers. It didn’t
even look like she trimmed, it was just a wild patch of red hair,
covering her privates.
Don’t get me wrong—it was still hot as hell. Not quite as sexy as
my sister’s, but the fact that I was looking at Grace’s pubes…I was
pretty turned on.
She was still wearing her shirt, and so I couldn’t see her tits. I
wasn’t too bothered by that though—Grace was cute, but she couldn’t
hold a candle to my sister in the chest department.
Okay, I thought to myself.
Let’s see what we can do here…
A moment of hesitation came over me as I reached out…I was about to
touch my neighbor—the girl I’d known my whole life—without her
permission. What’s more, I had no idea what it would do—maybe as soon
as I touched her, time would start up again. Maybe it would kill
her. Maybe it would kill me.
I was in totally uncharted territory here…but you know what they
say: someone’s got to be the one to chart that territory, so it might
as well have been me.
Is that a thing people say? I feel like it should be.
I took a deep breath, and reached out to touch Grace’s face. It
felt…well, it felt like a face. Normal. She didn’t die, I didn’t die,
no one came down from the sky to tell me I’d failed.
A thought struck me—Grace had one of those partition things in her
room, like models change behind. If I wanted to, I could wake her up
right now, and see (or hear, at least) her reaction.
But what would I learn? She wasn’t going to narrate her actions or
anything like that—I needed to know whether she could feel things
while she was out, and a light brush across the face was barely enough
to notice. It would feel like a stray hair, or the wind.
With a smile, I kneeled in front of my neighbor. I’d never seen a
pussy this close before, not even spying on my sister in the
shower.
Reaching out, I gently stroked the hairs. They felt nice…soft. I
ran my hand back and forth a few times—I wasn’t confident enough to do
much more than that, and so after about a minute of playing with her
pubes, I ducked behind the partition, and unfroze time.
The second after all the little sounds came back, they were joined
by another one, a soft, surprised moan of pleasure.

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