Tall Tina's First Time

"Good of you to finally make it home Tina," sneered Wendy, who was clearly in one of her moods today. "Have a nice walk home with Donna, while I'm slaving away here?"

"Wendy, I couldn't just leave gym class before the end," I protested meekly.

Wendy glared at me. "Tina, do you think if you tried just a little bit harder that you could be even more incompetent, selfish and lazy than you are now? Get the stuff you need out of your bedroom and put it in here right now. I'm sick to death of picking up the slack for you."

Without protest, I followed Wendy's directions, not wanting to incur my sister's wrath anymore. Her words stung especially as they weren't true. I always helped around the house, but often wondered why I bothered as all my Mom and sister did was criticize my efforts.

And why did I need to go to school to get bullied? My mother and older sister fulfilled this role perfectly well at home.

*

The rest of the late afternoon our family home resembled something like a beehive, with a queen bee (Mom) directing a developing queen bee (Wendy), a worker bee (me) and a drone (Kevin) to get the house which was already spotless clean to ridiculous degrees. It was bad enough when our grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins came to visit, but if it was anybody from outside the immediate family like today it was far worse. The way Mom was carrying on it was like we were expecting President Jimmy Carter and the First Lady Rosalind Carter to be spending the weekend, rather than the sales manager of a scientific instrument company, his wife and their son.

Being so tall, one of my jobs was to get the vacuum cleaner and use the brush attachment to sweep along the wallpaper. Mom, keeping a watch on dinner in the oven, would come and inspect my work especially. In the living room were two of Mom's favorite ornaments, two lava lamps one blue and the other red. I had to clean and polish the aforementioned lava lamps and they looked fine to me, but apparently there were some specks of dust and subsequently bacteria that I had missed, and I felt my mother's sharp tongue as she cleaned them herself.

I could only shake my head. Mom had such an obsession about bacteria, and exterminating them from her house. Anything that might lead to more bacteria sent Mom into a spin. For example, when I was aged 13 and in junior high my appendix burst and I was writhing on the floor, sobbing in absolute agony while vomiting uncontrollably into a bucket and waiting for the ambulance to take me to hospital.

However, my Mom was more concerned with the thought that some of my vomit might miss the bucket and go on the floor rather than the fact that one of her daughters was severely ill and needed emergency surgery to remove her appendix. But maybe Mom knew more than I did? If I was sick on the floor, perhaps the Earth would stop on its axis, turn upside down and begin spinning west to east, so that Antarctica was now at the North Pole and the sun rose over the Pacific Ocean and set over the Atlantic.

So far as I knew, Mom was born in Newark as the second of four kids, but maybe Grandma and Grandpa weren't telling the truth, and Mom came from another planet like Superman? Grandpa and Grandpa had found her by the side of the street as an infant and taken her into their home and raised her as their own along with their sons and other daughter. If my mother was an alien, perhaps she had an ability to see germs that normal people could not and that was why she was so nutty all the time?

The house was finally to Mom's satisfaction and dinner was in the oven when we heard the sound of Dad's car enter the driveway and into the garage. "Now remember you need to impress your father's clients," Mom reminded us.

I stole a glance out of the living room curtains and saw the slim figure of my father get out of the driver's side, Dad wearing a suit and adjusting his glasses. The man who climbed out of the front passenger seat also wore a suit and glasses, was about Dad's height and like my father had brown hair and a beard, although light brown where my father had dark brown hair.

So this was Mr. Walsh, and I didn't have long to wait to see Mrs. Walsh and their son Max, who got out of the back seat. Mrs. Walsh was a slim middle-aged brunette, her hair in a bob and wearing a light blue pant suit. Their kid Max, dressed in a white shirt with blue flowers and blue flared slacks looked to be about the height of a boy aged 11 or 12, so Dad presumably had his age right this time. However, I couldn't see Max's face properly, he was obscured in the fading light and I had to go and stand with my mother and siblings to greet our house guests for the weekend.

Dad opened the front door and I heard him say to Mr. and Mrs. Walsh, "Now Sam and Linda, I did mention that my younger daughter Tina is very tall? Much taller than an average girl."

Mr. Walsh laughed. "Yes Henry, several times. I don't know why you're so worried. My brother's two daughters play college basketball, I'm used to tall girls believe me."

Mrs. Walsh also spoke. "My sister's eldest daughter is five feet ten, how much taller can Tina be than her?"

They soon found out as they entered the foyer and came face to face with Mom, Wendy, Kevin and I. The mouths of Mr. and Mrs. Walsh dropped open and they stood like statues staring at me, clearly finding it hard to believe that they were in the same room with a girl who stood over seven feet tall. It was a reaction I knew only too well. Sometimes people with cameras had taken photographs of me without permission. Another day when I was going into the ladies' bathroom at the library, a woman's young son had pointed at me and yelled out across a crowded room, "Hey Mommy, how does that really tall girl sit on the toilet?"

My eyes went to the Walsh's son. While certainly the height of a pre-teen, Max's facial features suggesting he was aged in his mid-teens at least. Dad must have mixed up the ages again. But why was he so short? He didn't come up to even the shoulders of his mother or father. Paradoxically, despite his short stature Max did not seem too bothered by the sight of me. Sure, he had reacted to me initially as something unusual but this was only for a second and then he relaxed. His parents still seemed unsure what to make of me, not all that surprisingly given Dad had described me simply as 'tall' rather than using the term 'giantess'.

Dad introduced us to our guests for the weekend. "This is my wife Joan, our daughters Wendy and Tina and our son Kevin. Joan, kids, this is Sam and Linda Walsh and their son Max."

We all shook hands, me having to bend down to shake Max's hand. He sure was short, I doubt even five feet tall. Yet despite our differences in height, Max seemed completely at ease as we shook hands. He smiled, and I noticed for the first time how handsome he was. His straight dark hair was luxurious, about collar-length, not as long as some guys wore their hair nowadays.

Max smiled at me, and his New York accent was noticeably more pronounced than the accents of his parents as he spoke to me. "It's so nice to meet you Tina. I'm Max Walsh, better known as the Son of Sam."

He laughed, and I joined in as did Kevin, but nobody else thought the joke anything even remotely close to amusing, least of all Mrs. Walsh, who looked horrified.

"Max, you know I don't like that joke," said Linda Walsh.

Max laughed again. "Come on Mom, it's just a joke. Dad's name is Sam, I'm his son, so therefore I'm the Son of Sam. I think it's funny, and my friends think it's neat."

"It is not neat, nor is it funny, that maniac terrorized New York for over a year," said Mrs. Walsh. "And we're guests in somebody else's house. If you must make jokes, please do it at school."

"So what year of school are you in, Max?" Kevin asked.

"Oh, I'm a high school senior," said Max.

Kevin laughed, thinking that Max was fooling around again. "That's a good one," said Kevin.

"Actually, I really am a high school senior," said Max. "I recently turned 18."

Mrs. Walsh affirmed this. "It's true, Max is 18, although sometimes he may not act that way."

Max laughed. "I get sent to talk to the kindergarten kids to tell them that if they don't eat their crusts, drink all their milk and finish their vegetables they'll end up like me, four feet eleven at age 18."

"Tina is a senior in high school too," Dad said. He played along with Max's sense of humor. "As you can see, Tina never had any issues finishing her vegetables, crusts or milk when she was a little girl."

Wendy's catty comment was perfectly pitched so I could hear her, but nobody else. "Tina was never a little girl."

"And now at age 18, it costs us a fortune to get clothes for Tina and to feed her," said Mom, not a trace of humor in her voice.

Dad again tried to be more humorous. "Plus we always know when Tina's been driving the car."

"Same with Max," said Mr. Walsh. "But obviously the other way around."

Max laughed. "It was funny that time Karen tried to get in the car after I forgot to put the seat back and it jammed. It took over ten minutes to get it fixed."

"Karen didn't think it was very funny, Max," Mrs. Walsh said.

"Karen doesn't think anything is funny," Max said.

"So, is Karen your daughter?" Mom asked.

"That's right, two years older than Max," said Mr. Walsh.

"This is Karen and Max together," said Mrs. Walsh, taking a Polaroid photograph out of her purse which showed the dissimilar siblings together at Central Park, the average height blonde sister and the very short younger brother. "Karen unfortunately couldn't make it this weekend, she goes to college in Connecticut."

"Yes, and the weather conditions weren't good for riding her broomstick so far," laughed Max.

"I wish you would try to get along better with your sister and not make jokes like that," said Mr. Walsh.

Max feigned indignation. "Me? When Karen tells me to do something, I do it." He indicated his short stature. "People like me, we have to do whatever the Wicked Witch of the East tells us to do otherwise it doesn't end well."

Again, I laughed at Max's joke, but his parents were not too amused. "Max, as you have so much energy tonight, how about you go and bring in our things from the car?" Mr. Walsh suggested, handing the keys to his son.

"Kevin, you go and help him," said Dad. "As you and Max are sharing a room tonight, you should get to know each other."

"Sure Dad," said Kevin, going out with Max to the car.

"I'll give you both a hand," I volunteered, going out with my brother and Max to the car, helping them bring the Walsh family's things into the house and take them upstairs. I kept looking at Max's diminutive but handsome figure, wishing that Max and I were sharing a bedroom together. But that would be impossible.

For one, Wendy and Kevin would have to share the other bedroom, and as they were brother and sister, that would be weird. And would Mom and Dad approve of their other teenage daughter sharing a bedroom with an 18-year-old boy they had only just met? The word for this was simple and short. No.

Dinner that evening fortunately progressed without any major Mom freak-outs, and the Cooper family and the Walsh family got to know each other better. To my delight I got to sit next to Max, loving his friendly and humorous manner. I'd never met a guy who made me laugh the way Max did, and the way he was able to laugh at himself was something I really liked about him. He just seemed to have a natural affinity for comedy, although his parents didn't seem overly pleased. Sitting next to him, I felt kind of excited, and more than a couple of times in my crotch covered by flared jeans and full brief cotton panties I felt my clitoris tingling.

The evening passed, and I found myself getting more and more excited by Max. When it was time for bed I was dressed in an over-sized white tee-shirt with cartoon cats covering a clean fresh pair of white full-brief panties, my feet bare as I headed for my bedroom after brushing my teeth, and I ran into Max and Kevin, both of them dressed for bed in tee-shirts and boxer shorts.

Immediately, I felt Max's eyes upon my long uncovered legs, and my boobs as they pressed the front of my over-sized tee-shirt. Did he like what he saw? I hoped so, and so did my clitoris, me feeling between my legs my vulva getting wet and my clean cotton panties already feeling damp.

Max smiled at me, making him even more handsome. "Goodnight Tina," he said. "Sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite."

I laughed shyly, and thought about what would happen to my Mom if we really did have bed bugs in the house. Likely she would fall victim to spontaneous human combustion. "Goodnight Max, you sleep well too. Goodnight Kevin."

"Goodnight Tina," my younger brother said, before turning to go to his room with Max.

"So Max, do you like Star Wars?" Kevin asked.

Max laughed. "Do I like Star Wars? That's like asking a seal if it likes fish, or a bear if it likes honey. Kevin, I guess by looking at your room you like Star Wars?"

"Sure do," said Kevin. "So who's your favorite character?"

"Darth Vader's pretty cool," said Max. "How about you?"

"Han Solo," said Kevin. "But I like Luke Skywalker too. And I really like Princess Leia."

Max laughed. "Who doesn't like Princess Leia?"

I could hear my brother and Max talking about Star Wars non-stop through the wall as I slipped my bare feet under the sheets and got comfortable. Across the way, Wendy like me wearing an oversized tee-shirt over panties was already on her bed reading, and I could see her stretching out her bare legs, the toes on her bare feet clenching and unclenching. I didn't say anything to her and she said nothing to me, and by catching my sister's expression she clearly indicated that she did not want me in her room, nor did she want to talk to me. The area between our beds was like the divide between West and East Germany, or North and South Korea.

Next door I could faintly hear Max and Kevin discussing every aspect of Star Wars -- plot, characters, cinematography and what they would like to see in a sequel -- and I smiled to myself. Perhaps I should introduce Max to Donna's brother Joey and boyfriend Frankie, and they along with Kevin the four of them could have some sort of Star Wars convention? I doubt Donna would have been too happy about that though.

Drifting off to sleep, my dreams were filled of erotic scenes of voyeurism. In some I was naked, in others I was showering, sometimes undressing and in others I was dressed in my bra and my panties, all while being watched by a mystery man, who each time revealed himself to be Max. Even in my sleep, I could feel my pussy tingling as the hands on the clocks progressed throughout the night.

*

I awoke from my slumber and all my erotic dreams about Max with tingling feelings in my vagina and a damp panty saddle, getting a bit of a start as I opened my eyes to see Wendy standing in front of me, absolutely stark naked. Her bare breasts were on display as was her triangle of pubic hair which proved that my sister was a natural blonde. A clear look of irritation on her face, she was not happy. I wished Wendy would cover up her junk but I wasn't going to say anything.

"Thanks for keeping me awake half the night with your snoring and those weird moaning sounds you were making in your sleep," snapped Wendy. "If I fall asleep during my shift, it will be all your fault."

"Sorry Wendy, I can't help snoring," I protested.

"Maybe if you had a job yourself Tina then you would be more considerate," said Wendy, pushing her long blonde hair back from her face.

"Wendy, I do have a job," I said.

"What, keeping the books for Uncle Mike's business?" scoffed Wendy. "The only reason he gave you that job is because he feels sorry for you and because he can't be bothered to find a proper bookkeeper, and his brother's daughter needs a part time job. But then again, who would employ a 7 foot freak? I sure wouldn't. You'd be better off getting married and starting a family at age 18 and being a housewife, then you wouldn't have to worry about getting a job. Oh wait a minute, you don't have a boyfriend and haven't been out on a date in your life, so it looks like plan B is out too."

With her best efforts at making me feel good about myself, Wendy turned with her usual arrogant air, me seeing her bare bottom as she walked on her bare feet to her bed. As Wendy bent over to pick up her white panties off her bed, I unfortunately got to see much more -- Wendy's vagina and anus as my sister bent over.

Wendy hurriedly put on her panties and then her bra, followed by her waitress uniform and her shoes. Wendy left the bedroom in one of her moods, not saying a further word to me. I heard her feet descending the stairs and I sat up in bed, thinking about my erotic dreams about Max and my subsequent damp panties. But I couldn't spend all day reflecting on my nocturnal adventures nor their effect on my vagina.

My mouth felt very dry and yucky and I knew I had the dreaded morning breath. More importantly, I could feel my bladder was close to full and uncomfortable feelings in my bowels. A visit to the toilet was clearly also necessary.

A boy having had such erotic dreams would not have been able to get out of bed and walk across the hallway without risking embarrassment, but as I was obviously a girl I had no such issues. I swung my long legs out of bed and walked to the bathroom on my bare feet, feeling my panties riding up around my bottom and reaching under my over-sized tee-shirt to adjust them.

Closing the bathroom door, I got my toothbrush and toothpaste and brushed my teeth, then rinsed out and gargled with mouth wash, replacing my bad breath with minty fresh breath. All the while I was brushing my teeth being in the same room as the toilet my bladder went to feeling full to absolutely bursting, and in my bowels I could feel my urgency getting worse with each second that passed, my feces pressing against the walls of my rectum and my anal sphincter. I needed to be sitting on the toilet sooner rather than later.

Returning my toothbrush to the holder, I walked to the toilet and noted that while there was plenty of toilet paper on the roll the toilet seat was up. It must have been either Mr. Walsh or Max who did that. In our house Mom was beside herself if the toilet lid was left up, much less the toilet seat, so nobody dared to make that mistake.

Putting down the toilet seat, I lifted up my tee-shirt to show my white cotton full brief panties then pulled them down to my ankles. I sat down on the toilet, adjusting my bare bottom on the seat so I was nice and comfortable, sitting with my knees apart, my panties down around my ankles and bare feet.

I relaxed, and felt instant relief as I began urinating, the warm yellow pee pouring out of my urethra, splashing and tinkling into the toilet water, my pussy getting wet in the process. I looked down at my panties and bare feet, noticing very prominent pussy stains on the white double cotton saddle. Obviously my overly active imagination in my dreams had had an effect upon my vagina during sleep. My full bladder showed no signs of being empty yet, and the sound of me pissing on the toilet continued, the sound like a miniature Niagara Falls filling the bathroom.

Finally though, my urine stream slowed down to a trickle, then splashes and large droplets and finally I was done, leaving me sitting on the toilet with a saturated pussy. Unwinding some toilet paper from the roll holder, I folded it up and applied it to my vulva, the toilet tissue absorbing my residual urine and the sticky feminine excitement from my erotic dreams that had sent my vagina crazy during the night.

Dropping the wet paper into the bowl, I repositioned myself on the toilet seat and relaxed the muscles in my rectum. This had an immediate effect, with my poo coming out of my anus with a rush, splashing into the toilet and the foul smell of my feces immediately rising up from the bowl and into the bathroom.