Helping Sis Pick A Dress
by Lubrican
Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
Chapter Two
Cathy went on her date with Dennis. I didn't get to see her
before she left, so I didn't know if she was sans bra or sans panties. All I
could think about the whole time she was gone was what he was doing to her. Or
what she was doing to him. Or what they were doing to each other. She got home
at the stroke of 9 P.M., which was her curfew. Mom, who got back from her class
after Cat left on her date, waited up for her, as usual. I was still too
freaked out by Cat stripping in front of me, not to mention asking if she could
touch my wang, to chance talking to Mom. She'd know something was up. I was
sure of it. So I made sure I was reading with my headphones on when Mom opened
my bedroom door and asked where Cathy was.
"Date," I said, and looked right back at my book.
She was tired, as usual. She got something to eat and
watched TV until Cathy got home. I took the headphones off and left my door
open a crack so I'd hear when she got home. I snuck down the hall and
eavesdropped.
"You wore that on a date?" Mom's voice expressed
displeasure.
"What's wrong with this?" asked my sister,
innocently.
"It's a little brief, don't you think?"
"It covers everything," argued Cathy.
"That dress is designed to inflame a man," said
our mother. "Where did you get it?"
"It was on sale at Marshal's. Isn't it darling?"
"Cathy, you're pushing your luck if you wear things
like this on dates. And if your father saw that he'd have a heart attack."
"Relax, Mom. I don't go out with guys who have bad
reputations."
"Bad reputation or not, boys will think you're easy if
you wear things like that."
"But I'm not easy, Mom. Just ask Dennis Holly. He might
still be outside."
"I'm not asking some boy how far you let him get,"
growled Mom. "Don't wear that dress on another date. In fact, don't wear
that dress again until you're twenty."
"Mom," moaned Cathy, drawing it out. "That's
not fair."
"What's not fair is you teasing boys by showing them
what you don't plan to give them. That's called being a cock tease, young lady.
If I think you're becoming a cock tease, I'm going to ban you from dating until
you grow up some more."
"Okay, okay. Ix-nay on the es-dray for now," said
Cathy, making her voice extra morose. "And I don't tease my dates. I don't
even let them kiss me more than once. All we do is have fun."
Then it turned into a hen party as my sister regaled our
mother with how much fun it was to play miniature golf with Dennis Holly and
some other kids they met up with. I wasn't interested and went back to my room.
Mom went to bed and I waited five minutes before I tapped softly on Cathy's
door. She opened it wearing half of her baby doll pajamas. Half was the bra and
panties, without the jacket. This was something else she'd gotten with her
allowance, supplemented by some babysitting money. It was made of ivory-colored
silky-looking cloth, with some lace accents. You couldn’t see through it, like
some of them I'd seen online, but it was still sexy as hell. Dad hadn't seen
that yet, either.
"What?" she asked.
I pushed my way in and closed the door.
"Did you show him your boobs?" I asked.
"None of your business," she said.
"Come on," I groaned. "Just tell me."
"Why?"
"Because I want to know. That's why," I said.
"Why do you want to know?" she asked, not
budging an inch. "Is that part of your pervertedness? Do you wish you
could spy on me?"
"If you don't tell me, I'm going to tell Mom you're a
cock tease," I said.
"You little sneak!" she hissed. "You did
spy on me!"
"I heard you come in. I happened to be standing in the
hallway. I can't help it if you two talk loud enough for me to hear."
"You are such a pervert," she rasped.
"Said the girl who begged to touch her brother's
cock."
She stared at me. Apparently I looked nervous, or tired from
being nervous, because her head cocked to one side and I felt like I was under
a microscope.
"So you really want to know whether I let him see my
boobs," she said.
"Yes," I said, perhaps too eagerly.
"You're jealous!" she squeaked.
"Not so loud!" I hushed.
"You are. You're jealous of some boy groping my
boobs."
"He groped them?" I whined.
She grinned, and cupped her breasts, lifting them in their
silky covering.
"You groped them," she said. "Like
this." She grabbed both breasts and squeezed them. "Remember?"
I groaned. She grinned harder.
"Relax. I decided he didn't deserve to see them,"
she said. "My perverted brother is the only boy who ever groped
them."
Apparently I was visibly relieved, because she laughed.
"I can't believe you're jealous."
She'd been honest with me. She could have strung me along
and tortured me, but she hadn't. So I was honest with her, too. Well, mostly,
anyway.
"I was worried about you," I said. "Guys try
stuff."
"Dennis was a perfect gentleman tonight," she
said. "The only guy who was a danger to my virtue was you."
"Me? All I did was demonstrate how if you didn't cover
things well enough, a guy could get to them."
She stopped smiling.
"You fingered me, Bobby," she said in a
loud whisper.
"I touched you," I said. "Only to show
you I could, because you didn't have on panties."
"Well, nobody else touched me, because I was
wearing panties tonight. And a bra, too. I told you all I wanted was to
feel sexy. I'm not going to let some boy put his hands all over me. I told you
I'm not ready to have sex. So you can quit worrying and stop being
jealous."
"Okay," I said.
"Now, get out," she said.
I left, but I still wasn't happy. I didn't examine that
feeling then. I just felt like something was wrong.
Our rooms share a wall, and it happens that my bed is next
to that wall, and so is hers, on the other side. So, when we're sleeping, we're
only separated by maybe a foot. That wall isn't insulated, and I always jerked
off in the shower instead of my room, because I was afraid she'd hear me. So
when I turned off my light and lay there, and then heard her moaning, I was
pretty sure she wasn't sick or in pain.
It went on, and I could tell she was trying to be quiet, but
she wasn't being quiet enough.
So I got out of bed and tiptoed to the door. I slid my bare
feet along the wall, going down the hall, and made it to the front door without
making too much noise. It will show you how freaked out I was, because all I
had on was briefs. The grass was soft, and a little damp. We live on a corner,
and there's a street light on the corner and at the entrance to the alley
behind the house, so three sides of the house were lit at night. I knew about
my side, of course, because the corner light shined into my room at night. The alley
light shone on her window. What I didn't know was if Cathy had closed her
blinds, like I did sometimes at night when it was too bright. I hadn't looked
at them while I was in her room.
So there I was, at ten-thirty at night, sneaking along
the wall of my house, dressed in nothing more than my underwear. Anybody
driving by could easily have seen me. I got to her window. I eased my eyes up.
Her blinds were open and the curtains were spread all the
way apart. The street light wasn't necessary. Her bedside light was on and I
could see everything.
She wasn't wearing her baby dolls anymore. She wasn't
wearing anything at all. Her legs were spread and her knees were up. Her hand
was busy between her legs and it was just obvious she was masturbating. That's
why she kicked me out. She was horny from her date and wanted to Jill off.
I realized my cock was rock hard and I pushed the waistband
of my shorts below my balls.
It takes girls a lot longer to get there, apparently. She'd
been rubbing for at least five minutes before I got my eyes on her. I
shot my wad on the side of the house within two more minutes and finally came
to my senses, and she was still going. Imagining the cops finding me there,
with me in my underwear and spooge all over the side of the house under her
window, I freaked out and ran for the front door. My heart was going a hundred
miles an hour when I slipped into my room.
And when the rushing in my ears finally calmed down, and I
could hear again, she was still moaning.
The next day was Saturday, and I had two big lawns to mow.
My dad taught me to let he customer set the price, instead of agreeing to it
before hand. If they paid good, I went back and took care of their lawn again.
If they were cheap, I mowed it once and never went back. I learned a long time
ago that if you do all the edging, too, you get paid more, so I was gone all
day. Mom didn't have class that night, and supper seemed normal. Cathy didn't
look at me weird and all our discussion around the table was unremarkable. Mom
had homework to do, so we couldn't watch TV, but there wasn't anything on
anyway. I was reading The Silmarillion, by J.R.R. Tolkien and it had so
much detail and names and all that in it that I had to pay close attention to
it, so quiet was fine with me. Cathy stayed in her room and I could hear her
talking on her phone to one of her friends.
The next week was like that, too, all just normal stuff.
Cathy spent a lot of time with her friends at the city pool, and at the mall
and so on. I met up with my friends and we shot hoops or whatever. Steve, one
of my friends, kept trying to get a bunch of us to go Frisbee golfing with him.
There was a new course set up in the park. But a single disc cost twenty bucks,
and some of the people I saw playing had these little carts they pulled around
that had eight or ten different discs in them. It was too rich for my blood.
And then it was Friday again, and Mom was gone again, and
Cathy left a note on my pillow that said for me not to go anywhere between five
and seven that night.
At five sharp she came home from wherever she'd been and
made supper. While we were eating she said, "After supper I want you to
help me pick out a dress for my date, tonight."
I thought she was joking, or maybe pranking me, but she just
waited. Finally, she said, "Well, will you?"
So, after we ate I followed her to her room and she did the
look-through-her-closet-and-pick-three-dresses thing and, without a word,
stripped naked in front of me.
She stood there, watching me watch her. She made no attempt
to hide any part of her body.
"Am I pretty?" she asked, softly.
I finally stopped looking at her tits and pussy and looked
at her face.
"You know you are," I said. "Don't fish for
compliments."
"I do not know I am," she said. "I
know some other girls who are pretty, but nobody tells me I'm
pretty."
"Yes," I said, not wanting to have this argument.
"You're pretty. You're better than pretty. You're gorgeous."
"Really?"
"Last week didn't convince you?" I asked. "Remember
how I perved out?"
"Are you perving out now?" she asked.
This was weird. It wasn't just that she'd gotten naked in
front of me. I mean that was weird, yes, but all this "Am I pretty?"
stuff was even weirder. I mean what girl cares what her brother thinks about
her? And the way she asked if I was perving out about her now sounded odd ...
almost like she hoped I was.
"Bobby?"
I raised one finger to stop her, and just tried to think
about things. I knew girls thought about their flaws a lot. Or what they
perceived as their flaws. I knew girls were awful to each other, and that they
talked about the flaws they perceived in other girls. If a guy treated me like
I'd seen some teenage girls treating each other, I'd punch his lights out. So I
came to the conclusion that this was all about self-confidence issues Cathy was
having. She wanted some guy to get all horny for her and she was unsure enough
about all this that if it was her brother who got that way, that was okay. It
was at least a start, so to speak.
"Can I tell you something?" I asked.
Now she looked wary.
"Okay," she said.
"You have a cute face. Your tits are to die for. You
have a great ass, but most of all you have a great personality. You're not as
mean as a lot of girls. You're funny, and interesting. You're even pretty
smart. It's a great package, Cat, and a lot of guys wish they could unwrap
it."
"Have they said that to you?" she asked,
her voice high.
"Of course not. They know I'd kill them if they did
that."
"So how do you know, then?"
"Cathy, I'm not an idiot, for one thing. I know lots of
girls and what they're like. And I know you, not to mention I got a boner for
you last week. I've got another one now. I'm not supposed to get boners
for you, but I can't control them. Isn't that proof enough?"
"You said you get them all the time," she said.
"Maybe you just get them and they're not about me."
"Trust me. I know the difference between a random
stiffy and one caused by a girl I'm looking at or thinking about. You've caused
several really good ones. Except, technically, they're bad ones. Like the one I
have right now."
"Show me," she said.
I didn't drag it out this time. I just got naked with her
and stood there with my anti-aircraft gun pointing at the sky. Don't laugh. I
guess guys just like to think of their penises as firearms of some sort. I know
I love to shoot mine. Pun intended.
She stared at it a long time before she said anything.
"Bobby?"
"Yeah?"
"I thought I'd like it if Dennis got a boner for me.
But I didn't."
"So he got one?"
"Yeah. He pushed it against me while we were making
out."
"And you didn't like it?"
"I didn't feel like I thought I would."
"So how did you feel?"
She blinked.
"I felt like if it was yours, instead of his, it would
have been a lot better."
I was speechless. Apparently she was, too. We just looked at
each other for a while.
"That's interesting," I finally said.
"Is it? Because I'm like you. I know I'm not supposed
to get turned on thinking about my brother." She blinked. "Thank you
for not laughing at me, by the way. I was afraid to tell you, but I felt like I
had to."
"Well, I guess maybe I should tell you something, too.
You might get mad about it, though."
"Okay."
"I don't want you to be mad at me," I said.
"I'll try not to, then," she said.
I felt this urge to confess, so I just took the chance that
she wouldn't freak out completely.
"Last Friday night, after your date, when I was in your
room, and then you kicked me out?"
"Yeah."
"I heard you ... through the wall."
"Oh no," she whined.
"That's not the bad part," I said. "I
couldn’t take it. I mean I knew what you were doing and I kind of went outside
and looked in your window."
"You did?" Her eyes were huge.
"I watched," I said. "And I got so turned on
I jerked off on the side of the house."
Her upper chest turned red, and it crept up until her cheeks
were flaming. Her hands made fists and they came up to burrow into her eyes.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" she groaned.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I know I shouldn't
have. But I had to. I couldn't take it. I mean I know it's all
fucked up, but ..." My voice died. I had nothing else to say.
"This is bad," she moaned.
"Look, I promise I'll never do it again," I said.
"You don’t get it," she said. "This is really
bad!"
"Nobody saw me," I said, thinking she was worried
that everybody in town would find out how much of a pervert I was.
"You don't get it!" she barked.
"Then help me get it," I yelled.
"I'm not mad that you watched me," she whispered.
She looked down.
"My pussy is ... wet. The bad part is that I want
to rub right now, after you telling me that."
"I don't understand why I like this so much," said
Cathy.
She had calmed down and we were sitting on her bed, Indian
style, facing each other. My dick was still hard as rock and her pussy lips had
pulled apart to reveal darkness, up inside her. I could tell she was really
weirded out after she told me her pussy was wet, and I told her to calm down a
bunch of times. She started pacing around the room and I even said that maybe
we should get dressed. She paused in her pacing long enough to say, "No,
Bobby, I do not want to get dressed. Not yet." That confused me,
because she was clearly upset about all this sudden sexiness between us.
So, eventually, I got on her bed and sat down. She paced some more, muttering
to herself, and then she climbed on the bed at the other end and sat down to
face me.
"Maybe we can figure that out," I said, trying to
be wise. I was a year and a half older than her, after all. "What,
exactly, is it that you like?"
She threw up her hands.
"I like being naked with you. I like it that you get
boners for me. I want to touch your pathetic penis and play with it. I feel
like rubbing right in front of you!"
"My pathetic penis?" I was wounded.
"What's wrong with my penis?"
"That's what's making me feel like this," she
said. "Your penis. The first time I saw it all hard, I got all these feelings
inside and it was hard to think."
"It's probably just normal hormones," I said.
"No it's not!" she barked. "If it was normal
hormones I'd have felt that way when Dennis got all crazy and rubbed his
boner against me last week. But I didn't feel that way at all, Bobby. I just
thought about what to do about it to keep him in line."
"Maybe you just don't like Dennis," I said.
"I like Dennis a lot!" she growled. "Dennis
is sweet and funny. He doesn't mind spending money on me. And he's a really
great kisser. The only reason I'm going out with Bruce tonight, instead of
Dennis again, is because Mom said I can't date only one boy exclusively until
my senior year. I like Dennis just fine. I just don't feel like being naked
with him."
"Okay, so who do you feel like being naked
with?"
She stared at me.
"You said you're not an idiot, but you pretty much
really are, aren't you?" she asked, casually. If she hadn't been sitting
there naked, showing me everything she had, my feelings might have been hurt.
Then I got it.
"Besides me, I mean," I said.
"Nobody, Bobby. There are all kind of cute guys
I want to go out with, but I'm not going to get naked with any of
them, and I certainly don't want them touching me."
"I thought you liked making out," I said.
"I'm talking about how you groped my boobs and
fingered me and sucked my nipple, you fucking idiot!" she screamed.
"Don't get excited," I said, trying to calm her
down again. "This is all new to me, too, okay?"
She went very still. I don't think she was even breathing.
She had to be, though, because she stared at me for longer than anybody could
hold their breath.
"Are you telling me you never did that on any of your
dates?" she finally asked.
"No," I said. "I mean sort of. I never got
naked with anybody. I've copped some feels, but nobody has let me do more than
that."
"Tell me about these feels you copped," she said.
"Who were they and what did you cop?"
"I don't know," I moaned. "Okay. Wait. Cindy
Anderson. She let me feel her tits while we were kissing, but only over her
clothes."
"Bobby," said my sister very softly. "that is
the last time you will ever call them 'tits,' okay? When you use that word it
makes you sound like you're ten. Or forty and have a beer belly. Okay?"
"Okay," I said. I wasn't going to argue with her
about that. That was a word guys used with each other to make you sound cool. I
knew that. It was cousin to words like knockers, milk bags and hooters. Though
I did think it was weird that girls didn't like words like that, while guys
couldn't have cared less if somebody said you had a dick, or dong, schlong, or
pecker.
"Okay," she said, "Thank you. Now, who else
have you groped? I want to know about every one of them."
"I don't understand why you want to know this," I
said.
"You wanted to know if Dennis groped me," she
reminded me.
"That's different," I said. "I don't have a
cherry for somebody to pop, so why would you care if I felt up some girl or
not?"
"Because you're the first boy to touch me like that,
and if I'm the only girl you've touched that way, then that makes it
special, and if it's special, then I don't know what I'm going to do because if
it's special, then I'm going to want you to do it again."
I blinked. She might want me to do it again? The memory of
Cathy's soft titties ... er breasts ... in my hands, and that very quick feel of
slipperiness between her pussy lips, was like a really great dream. The thought
of sliding my hands all over her soft skin didn't bother me at all. The problem
was that, suddenly, I imagined myself on top of her, her legs kicking in the
air as my skinny butt went up and down between them. And that scared the piss
out of me.
"So who else, Bobby?" she insisted.
"Katie Winters," I wheezed. "I put my knee
between her leg and pressed. She kissed me harder, then, but after that she
said she had to go home."
"Okay," she said.
"That's all. I mean I've tried, but usually they brush
my hands away or tell me to stop."
"So what you're saying is that you've never been naked
with any girl ... except me and you've never touched any girl's naked breasts ...
except me, and you never fingered any girl but me."
"I got boners for lots of girls," I said, weakly.
"Did any of them see it? Naked?"
"No," I admitted.
"Shit," she said, softly.
"Come on, Cathy," I said. "This isn't a big
deal. I'm sure brothers and sisters do this all the time. I mean they live
together. They're closer than they are with outsiders. We all get curious as we
grow up. I mean last Friday night. You just wanted help picking out a dress,
right? You didn't get naked in front of me to tease me, right?"
"That's right," she said. "I didn't even
think about it. But then you got that boner for me and everything changed. Why
do you think I did this tonight? Tonight I did get naked to tease you. I
hoped you'd get another boner. And I thought about the hormones thing,
too, except I only get the hormones with you."
"Okay, so you try out your hormones on me. It's just
practice for later, when you can get ... um ... involved ... with a guy."
"I'm going to tell you something, but you have to swear
you'll never tell another soul," said Cathy.
"Okay."
"I mean it. Swear you'll never tell."
"I swear," I said. I had butterflies in my stomach
because I was suddenly afraid my little sister was going to tell me she wasn't
a virgin.
"I was at a sleepover at Mandy's last year, and she
filched a bottle of her dad's vodka. Crystal got so drunk she started crying
about how much she missed her brother. Do you remember David? He's in the
Army."
"He was a senior when I was in ninth grade," I
said.
"Well, she was bawling and talking about how much she
missed him and I asked why and she said he popped her cherry."
She stopped. My mind sort of jittered around. Crystal was a
really cute girl on the cheerleading squad. She was out of my class, or at
least dated a different kind of guy than me.
"Really? Maybe she was just drunk and raving," I
said.
"He did it when she was thirteen, Bobby! Just thirteen!
And they kept doing it! They got caught, too, and her parents put
her on birth control. That's why he had to join the Army after he graduated.
That was how their parents tried to break them up."
"She told you all this?"
"She was really wasted. She thinks you're cute and she
asked me if you had a big dick."
"What?"
"She did. She actually asked me if you had a big
dick."
"What did you say?"
"Well, since I had no idea whether you had a big
dick or not, I just said yours was about normal. The way she asked it made me
curious, and when she asked if I got to see you naked a lot, I knew something
was up, so I tried to get her to keep talking. I ended up hearing way more than
I expected."
"What did the other girls say?" I asked.
"They were all asleep. Nobody knows but me. And now
you."
"Do you think she was telling the truth?"
Cathy just nodded.
"Wow," I said.
"So you see why I'm so worried? If Crystal and David
could fall in love and be like that, and I have all these weird feelings for
you, what might happen?"
I looked at the darkness that was her sexual tunnel. My mind
was happy to supply images of my penis, which could suddenly see, for some
reason, nosing through that tunnel, where it found the opening to the cave that
was her womb. Do not ask me why, but my mind turned that into a takeoff from
Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, except there weren't forty thieves. There was
just me, or the tip of my cock, which now had both eyes and a mouth, and it
said, "Open Sesame" and her cervix flowered open and then my penis
put treasure into her cave, instead of taking treasure out of it.
I shook my head to clear it.
"We can't have sex, Cathy," I croaked.
"I know that," she said, her voice very
reasonable, and it was suddenly clear to me that she'd thought about
this, too.
"You're not on birth control," I said, trying to
convince the already-convinced.
"No, and I can't get on birth control."
"Even if you didn't get pregnant, Dad wouldn't make me
join the Army," I said. "He'd kill me and bury me in the back
yard."
"I know," she agreed.
"So why are we sitting here like this?" I groaned.
"Because I like it," she said. "and because
you're helping me get ready for my date with Bruce."
"Why am I suddenly jealous of Bruce?" I sighed.
"Don't be. I want to talk like this again when I get
home."
"Like ... this?" I indicated my nudity with my
hands, like a model on "Let's Make A Deal."
"Yes," she said, without a pause.
"You know it's really foolish for us to do this,"
I said.
"I know."
"Then why do you want to do it?" I moaned.
"Because I like it," she said. "Now, go away.
I have to get dressed."
I got off the bed and made my straining penis point toward
the door.
"Wait! You didn't pick a dress," she said.
"It doesn't matter," I said, still facing the
door. "You'll own him no matter what you wear."
Suddenly her arms went around me from behind. Her hot
breasts crushed into my back and I imagined that her fluffy pubes tickled my
butt.
"Thank you, big brother," she breathed into my
ear.
"Careful. I might attack you."
"No you won't. You're not like David."
"He raped Crystal?" I gasped.
"It wasn't rape. Not the way she described it. She
asked him to teach her how to kiss and things got carried away. After that, she
said she couldn't wait to do it again."
"I could let things get carried away," I warned.
"I don't think so. We'll see."
Fifteen seconds later I was on the other side of her door. I
didn't even wait until I got to my room to start jacking off.
As I spurted, I heard her laughter.
"I can hear you, Bobby!" she yelled.
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