"Jamie, could you help me get this darn necklace off? I forgot I had it on, and I'm gonna be late for school."
Jamie was sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee, watching the news before leaving for work. Heather had just run down the hall from her bedroom, and was now standing in front of him, reaching behind her neck in evident frustration as she struggled with the clasp of a thin gold chain necklace. She was dressed in only her underwear -- thin, white cotton bikini briefs, and a lacy semi-transparent half-bra that generously offered up her large, full breasts, just barely covering pink nipples that showed faintly through the translucent fabric. Her breasts jiggled slightly as she wrestled with the necklace.
"Um, uh, yeah, sure, Heather -- here, just, uh, just turn around..." She was standing so close to him that he had to put his hands on her hips to move her back a little, to avoid pressing against the front of her body as he rose from the couch. As she turned to give him access to the necklace clasp, he had to forcibly pull his gaze up from the enticing view of her rear, the thin panties stretched tightly over the contours of her voluptuous hips and firm, round bottom. She held her hair up as he fiddled with the necklace. The smooth skin of her shoulders and the nape of her neck was warm; she smelled fresh and clean. He tried not to notice.
"There ... there you go." He removed the necklace and handed it to her.
"Oh good, thanks!" she said, and gave him a hug. She pressed the entire front of her body to him; he felt her warmth against his loins and the firmness of her breasts pressing into him, and was aroused in spite of himself. Then she ran back down the hall to her bedroom to finish dressing.
He sat back down, trembling slightly. He felt the familiar, insistent stirrings between his legs, and put his hand on his growing erection to quell it, but, of course, that served only to encourage it. He didn't want to have an obvious bulge when she returned, so he got up and busied himself in the kitchen, cleaning up.
Heather reappeared in five minutes, dressed in a purple, form-fitting cashmere sweater, a denim skirt, and running shoes. The skirt was tight, and ended eight inches above her knees.
"Gotta run, Jamie, or I'll be late for class." She gave him a soft, gentle kiss on the lips. "You're the best brother ever!" she said, and disappeared out the front door.
Jamie sighed and went back into the living room and collapsed on the couch. He surrendered himself to what had become routine for him: lowering his pants, he freed his aching, frustrated cock, and proceeded to stroke it slowly and gently. He closed his eyes and moaned as he replayed in his mind the image of Heather in her tantalizing underwear, those tight, tight panties, and her breasts, oh my god those beautiful big breasts, that tantalizing bra! He worked his excited erection slowly, teasing it, tormenting it with thoughts of Heather's maddening body held just out of reach ... The pleasure of his orgasm was intense and sweet, but the relief it offered was only temporary; Heather was almost always on his mind, and arousing thoughts of her soon returned.
He wasn't actually her brother. Heather's dad and Jamie's mom, both divorced, had married when the kids were young (she eight, he twelve), so they had spent the last ten years as step-siblings. They had always gotten along well together, more or less; Jamie accepted his new sister after an initial period of resentment at having to share his mother's affection with a "bratty girl". For her part, Heather had adored Jamie from the start -- she loved having a big brother. So, for all intents and purposes, they were brother and sister.
At least, this was the case for a few years. Heather was always "cute", but her transformation into the kind of beauty that excites men started early. By the time she was twelve her figure had already started to develop -- her breasts were budding noticeably, her hips were wider, and her long legs, once skinny, had become graceful and shapely. She was still a little girl, of course; but physically she was already fueling men's fantasies.
As for his part, none of this was lost on Jamie. He had reached the stage were thoughts of girls and sex were a major preoccupation. His hormones were raging, and he seemed to have a constant erection, which he worked over diligently in bed every night. As he noticed the change that was taking place with his sister, thoughts of her gradually began to supplant the magazines he kept hidden in his closet as inspiration for his nightly diversions. This was unfortunate for him, since he was a shy boy. He was never able to develop relationships with girls in school that might have led to healthy sexual outlets, so his erotic fixation on his step-sister deepened and controlled most of his fantasies. He never acted on these, however. To the outside world he was an affectionate, caring and protective brother; but inside, he was helplessly obsessed with her.
So passed their childhood years. Eventually Jamie went off to college, and the separation from Heather seemed to provide some measure of relief for him. He felt that finally he was going to be able to establish a normal emotional life, one that did not revolve around his sweet but tempting sister. He dated several girls and was by no means a virgin, but his relationships tended to be unsatisfying or short-lived. This was due, at least in part, to the fact that he would often think of Heather while he was making love with another girl. One relationship ended abruptly when he cried out her name at the point of orgasm.
After graduating, he got a job as a tech writer with an engineering firm in the city. He was able to afford a large apartment by himself, and for the most part was content with his quiet, solitary life. Then, he got the call.
It was his mother. The message was essentially this: Heather, who was now eighteen, had been accepted to the University. She had always been a good student, and was eager to go. The problem was money -- they were strapped for cash at the moment, and really couldn't afford the full cost of tuition and residence in the dormitories, even with Heather's healthy scholarship. But, said his mother (and he saw it coming before she said it), if Heather could stay in the apartment with him, then it would be possible -- they could swing the tuition. He's got plenty of room, and you know Heather, she wouldn't be a bother, she would help around the house, share with cooking and such, the ideal roomie. Besides, said his mother (and she lowered her voice to a whisper, which was odd since there was no one else in the conversation), they'd feel better if Heather were with him there in the city, at least for a while. "I don't know if you've noticed," she said, "but your little sister has become quite an attractive young lady. We'd feel so much better if she were where her big brother could keep an eye on her, at least until she's a bit more grown up."
And so, it was decided. There was a part of him that came close to protesting that he didn't feel it was a good idea (which from the point of view of rationality and concern for his emotional stability it wasn't); but that brief flicker of good sense was instantly swept away by a rush of excitement. His heart raced, and he surrendered to feelings of sweet anticipation.
Over the next month before classes began at the University he raced around and got things ready for Heather. She'd have her own bedroom (of course), and it only took a couple of pieces of furniture and some window drapes to make his guest bedroom decent and comfortable for her.
And then one day she was there. Heather, his sweet, affectionate little sister -- Heather, his beautiful, voluptuous sister! He'd seen her frequently since leaving home, but now seeing her here, in his place (their place), somehow added a dimension of intimacy, of possibility, that wasn't there when they were kids living with their parents. His feelings were confused, and he wasn't thinking clearly about what they were or where they might lead. On the one hand, he felt like a responsible, protective brother, who would take good care of his little sister; on the other, he felt like a guilty kid in a candy store.
Heather was about five foot four, trim and very shapely. Her hair was honey blonde, with a slight wave, which gathered luxuriously about her shoulders when it wasn't tied back or up in pony tails, framing her pretty face in a garland of gentle curls. She often had two narrow braids that hung down along her cheeks, or were sometimes pinned along her temples towards the back, giving the effect of a plaited headband. At times, when she was being pensive or daydreaming, she would wrap a finger around a braid, or hold an end in her mouth, like a little girl. Her green eyes were large and expressive, even without makeup, which she rarely wore. She had a habit, when listening to someone speak, of lowering her chin slightly and gazing at the speaker intently from under gracefully arched eyebrows; and then, if her brilliant smile followed, the effect could be heart-stopping. Many men, upon meeting her for the first time, were hard-pressed to remember her pretty face, because they were unable to get their eyes up that far: although she was trim and agile, she was voluptuous, with high, full breasts, a long, slender waist that curved gracefully out to ample hips, and a firm, rounded bottom -- Jamie's high school friends had used to call her "little bubble-butt". Her legs were long and shapely, with skin smooth and creamy as a baby's.
Now, Heather was not stupid; in fact, she was very bright. She knew very well that she was attractive to men, and enjoyed the effect she had on them. But there was one area where she had a blind spot: namely, she was totally unaware of the erotic effect she had on her step-brother. Over the years he had kept his frustrated sexual longing for her so well hidden that she never had an inkling of his true feelings -- she was totally clueless about his obsession with her. Never shy about her body, she displayed no reticence at all in hanging around the house in just her underwear or other scanty outfits. Certainly not with Jamie -- he was her brother, after all! He would never think about his little sister in that way; he probably never even noticed what she was wearing...
Jamie understood this, and it added to his difficulties. He told himself that it would be a betrayal of trust if he behaved in any way other than as a solicitous older brother; but subconsciously a part of him was looking forward to being excited and tantalized by her once again -- when she moved in, he was in trouble from the start.
When Jamie got home that evening Heather was already there, getting their dinner ready. He got himself a beer and sat down in the living room to read the paper. After a while Heather joined him on the couch while the pasta was cooking. She still had on the cashmere sweater and denim skirt she had worn to school.
"So, how was school, Sis? Classes okay today?"
She yawned and said, "Yeah, nothing really special today. Oh, wait! Actually, something kind of funny did happen today!" She swung herself around on the couch to face him, with her legs pulled under her, hands resting on her knees. Jamie put down his paper to listen.
"Remember that professor I told you about, the one I've got for English Lit.?" she said excitedly. "You know, the one some girls told me was a real perv?"
"Ah. Yes, I remember."
"Well," she said with a grin, "it seems he saw something he liked today."
"Oh? And what would that be?"
She jumped up and grabbed a straight-backed chair and moved it to face Jamie, about eight feet away. Then she sat down and grinned.
"So, what did he see?" he asked.
"This," she said. Looking at her brother and biting her lower lip, she slowly crossed her legs. In doing so, she lifted her right leg several inches higher than necessary as she crossed it over the left. The effect was to give a brief but clear view up her skirt. Because the skirt was so short, there was enough light to illuminate the crotch of her white cotton panties. With her legs crossed, you could no longer see her panties, but shapely thighs were visible, far up the tight denim miniskirt.
"And then this, and this," she said, slowly re-crossing her legs to the right, and left, back and forth. Each time she did, her panties flashed enticingly from between her legs.
"Wow," said Jamie. "So, you bucking for an A, Heather?"
She smirked. "No, silly," she replied, "I don't have to do that to get A's. I just thought he deserved it, that's all."
"Well, because he was rude, that's why. When I came into the lecture hall -- it's one of those really big ones, like a theater, with lots of seats at a steep angle -- when I came in at the back I had to walk down the aisle to get closer to the front. The whole time I was walking down he was staring at me. He stopped moving his papers around and just stared -- I felt like I was naked! Can you imagine?"
Oh, yes; Jamie could imagine that. Jamie was imagining that a lot these days, as he watched Heather leave for school in tantalizing outfits guaranteed to tease cocks.
She got up and came back to the couch. "So I figured, if he's gonna be that rude and make me uncomfortable, maybe I should do something to make him uncomfortable, too! You know?"
Jamie nodded. "So, you decided to give him something more to look at..."
"Right! I walked down to a row that was right at his eye level, and sat down in a seat with no one in front of it. Then I gave him a little show."
"Could you tell if he noticed it?"
"Oh, he noticed, all right! Whenever I crossed my legs he would stare and lose his place in his lecture. It was just too funny!" She giggled at the memory. "Oh -- then I did this!"
She jumped up and sat in the chair again, this time pulling the coffee table up close to it.
"I kept my legs crossed for a while -- he kept looking up to see if I was going to switch again, so he could get another peek. Then, one time when he was looking..." She slowly lifted her left foot and rested it on the edge of the coffee table. At the same time she parted her legs slightly -- Jamie now had an unobstructed view up her skirt to the crotch of her thin, snug panties. "I put my foot on the back of the chair in front of me, like this, and..." She picked up a pencil from the table and began to nibble at the eraser absent-mindedly, rubbing it idly between her pouting lips. Then, looking into Jamie's eyes, she slowly gave the eraser a little lick. "You should have seen his jaw drop," she said. "He just about completely lost it."
Jamie tried to keep his cool during this demonstration, but inwardly he was suffering along with the flustered instructor. He imagined the poor guy was feeling the same urgency between his legs that he was now.
"So, do you think that would really get him hot, Jamie? Or did I make a fool of myself?"
"God, no, Sis!" Jamie exclaimed, a bit hoarsely. "All of us guys would get turned on seeing that ... I mean, other guys, uh, guys that aren't..."
"Well, isn't that nice!" Heather shot back, feigning shock. "Are you saying that all you perverts enjoy looking up my skirt?"
Jamie froze, speechless. Heather giggled at her brother's discomfort. "Oh, Jamie, I'm just kidding you," she laughed. "I know what you mean. It's sweet of you to say I turn men on. But of course not you, silly -- you're my brother!"
She got up and winked at him, smoothing her skirt down. "Well, I think our dinner is ready -- shall we?"
She headed into the kitchen. Jamie gazed longingly at the seductive motion of her hips, then got up and followed. He hoped she wouldn't notice the bulge that was pressing out through his trousers. Later, in bed, that bulge grew again, fondled and coaxed in his eager hands, as he lay obsessing over Heather's tantalizing display. The peeks up her skirt, her deliberate teasing, her taunting tongue -- god, he loved it so much! And every day his need for more was increasing...
Heather put the spoon in her mouth and slowly drew it out through pursed lips. Turning it upside down, she licked from underneath, and pulled it down over her lathing tongue until it was clean. She dipped it into the carton of chocolate swirl for another spoonful, and repeated the process, nibbling and sucking at the spoon, finally licking it clean. Her motions were slow and almost trance-like as she ate, mesmerized by the music video they were watching as they sat on the couch after dinner.
Or, rather, the video she was watching -- for his part, Jamie's eyes were glued to Heather's lips and tongue as she worked on her ice cream. They were dressed for bed, he in his boxers and a t-shirt, she in a white nylon negligee, short and slightly see-through, with matching bikini panties. She was sitting facing Jamie with her knees up, her face turned to the side to watch the TV. As she watched, licking her ice cream, she absent-mindedly opened and closed her knees in time to the music, and Jamie was being teased to distraction by the repeated peeks he was getting between her legs. He stared intently at the crotch of her panties each time her legs parted; he was sure he could just make out what was behind the translucent material, but the little flashing peeks were too brief to be satisfying. Heather was oblivious to what she was putting her brother through, and didn't notice the hard-on that was almost escaping from his boxers.
The video ended, and Heather clicked off the TV. Smiling at Jamie, she got up and took the ice cream container back into the kitchen. Jamie took the opportunity to straighten himself as well as he could, trying to hide the effects of her unconscious tantalizing show.
"Hey, Bro, you want a little wine?" she called to him.
"Wine? After your ice cream?"
"I know, but I just want a little before bed. You join me?"
"Okay, just a little," he said.
She returned from the kitchen with a bottle of white wine and two glasses. She poured for them and sat back down on the couch.
"This is nice," she said. "I feel very relaxed. How about you?"
"Yes, me too," he lied. He still was having to cover his lap with his hands.
"Actually, Jamie, there's something I've been wanting to ask you. I need your help with something."
"Really? Sure -- what's up?"
"Well," she said hesitantly, "I'm not sure how to put this, but..." She put her wineglass on the coffee table and turned on the couch to face her brother. "Well ... okay -- you know I've been sort of seeing this guy from school, right? You know, Chris?"
"Yes, I think you said something about him. Things going all right with him?" Jamie was trying to be mature and act like a brother; but he actually was feeling a bit jealous.
"Oh yes, we ... get along real well. I mean we really have fun together. But sometimes I'm afraid that I..." Her voice trailed off, and she looked down, biting her lower lip.
"Afraid that you... ?" Jamie encouraged her to continue.
"Well, I really like him, and I want to be ... nice to him, but sometimes I'm afraid that I don't, well, that I don't know how very well."
Jamie just looked at her, not understanding.
"Oh, come on Jamie! You know what I'm talking about, don't you? I want to make him feel good -- you know? Feel good? The way a man likes to feel -- down there?" She indicated Jamie's lap, which he was still covering with his hands.
"Oh, wow!" Jamie exhaled, totally unprepared for this. "You mean you want me to tell you, to tell you ... god, Heather, I don't know! You must have learned a lot about ... about that, I mean you were one of the most popular girls in high school, you had lots of boyfriends!"
"Oh, I know, but I was just a kid then, and so were the guys I went with. I mean, I never did, uh, it -- you know? Well, not a lot of times, anyway. I know people thought I was real sexy and stuff, but honestly, I never really knew what I was doing!"
Jamie took a swig from his wineglass, a big one. This was not a conversation he ever thought he'd have. "Well, you're right about that," he said. "I mean about guys thinking you were sexy, they all wanted to go out with you. No, wait, I don't mean that you weren't actually sexy, I mean you must have been, must have known something, uh..." He was falling all over himself trying to say the right thing.
"You are so sweet, big brother!" Heather laughed, and took a sip of her wine. "But believe me, I don't know anywhere near as much as you think I do. Could you help me? Please?"
Jamie didn't know what to do. "What do you mean by help? What could I do?"
Heather put down her glass and looked at him. "You're a guy, Jamie. You have to know what guys like -- what you like. I want to know how to ... to touch a man, how he likes to be touched and where. Do I have to spell it out for you?" She leaned forward on the couch and grinned wickedly. "P-E-N-I-S -- I want to know how to touch a guy's cock to make him feel good!"
"Oh god, Heather, I don't think I should do that! I mean -- Jesus, how could I possibly..."
He stopped talking when he saw what she was doing. Lowering her head and smiling up at him from under her striking eyebrows, her two index fingers were rotating in slow circles and gradually advancing on him. She began to make a buzzing noise with her tongue.
"Tickle bee," she whispered, "the tickle bee is coming..." He laughed, in spite of his embarrassment. Ever since she was a little girl Heather had been a tickler. She absolutely adored tickling him when they were children, and getting tickled back. Often she would tickle when she wanted something from him he didn't want to give, and here she was doing it again!
"Come on, Heather, don't be silly," he said. But he was feeling a little silly himself because of the wine, and he felt the old hilarity rising, and shivers at her approaching fingers. "Don't you do that, now come on..."
She pounced, pushing him back on the couch as her fingers found his ribs. He exploded in howls of laughter as she gleefully attacked him, avoiding his hands as he tried to intercept her tormenting fingers. She was lying on top of him, holding him down with the press of her body, while her hands darted all over his sides, digging into his most sensitive areas. He was conscious of her warmth through the flimsy negligee, and felt her breasts pressing against his chest. As she struggled to hold him down, the negligee rode up, and as he thrashed about trying to escape he found his hands grasping her bottom through the thin fabric of the bikini panties, and more than once as he tried to tickle her in retaliation his hands briefly cupped her full breasts from the side. He was starting to become very aroused, but the tickling was driving him mad at the same time. He twisted his body, and they both rolled off the couch onto the floor, laughing hysterically. She maneuvered him onto his back and straddled his lap, pinning his wrists to the floor. They were both laughing and breathing heavily; he could feel the warmth between her legs pressing against his crotch, and a good part of her ample cleavage was visible down the neckline of her negligee as she bent over him.
"Well, you gonna tell me, or do I have to..." In a flash she whipped her hands from his wrists back down to his ribs, and just pressed her fingers into him without moving, poised to tickle again if he refused her.
"Okay, okay, I give!" he gasped. "Just stop, please stop!"
"You sure?" she said, and gave him one last dig in his ribs.
"Yes, yes, I promise! God, you are such a sadist!"
She put her head on his chest and remained lying on him for a few more seconds, panting, then got up onto the couch again. He pulled himself together and joined her, straightening out his boxers, from which his aroused cock had come dangerously close to escaping.
They sat catching their breath for a while.
"Uh, so what do you want me to tell you, Sis?" Jamie asked finally. "You don't mean for me to, like, demonstrate stuff to you, do you? Like ... on me?"
She opened her eyes wide. "No, I didn't mean that! I just want you to tell me, or show me -- wait! I have an idea! Wait, don't go 'way." She jumped up and ran into the kitchen. When she returned she was carrying a large banana, looking very pleased with herself.
"See? The perfect teaching aid! Just the right size, and look, it even curves just like a guy with a hard-on!" She swayed a little on the way to the couch; they were both quite tipsy from the wine by now.
"So, do I do this?" Holding the end of the banana in her left hand, she grabbed the top of the yellow stand-in with her right hand and began to jerk it up and down furiously.
"No, hold it, no!" Jamie interjected. "You're going to rip it off him like that! What you have to do, Heather, what guys really like, is to be very gentle. Touch it lightly at first, with just your fingertips. Take it slow -- go very slowly..."
She nodded, and began to run her fingers over the yellow skin of the fruit, up and down from the "base" to the "head".
"Where you're touching, on the inside curve, would be the upper side. Uh, I think with most guys it would feel better on the underside."
"Is that where you like it?" she asked. She ran a single fingertip along the outside curve of the banana, lightly and delicately, very slowly, just below the tip.
Jamie blushed. "Uh, yeah -- it feels really good there."
The lesson continued, as Jamie explained to his eager sister just how she should stroke a man's erection, and where the most erotically sensitive areas are. "Boy," she said, "sex ed was never like this!" They both laughed, as she followed his directions, rubbing her hands up and down the banana, pretending to masturbate it.
"So, is this right? What else do guys like?" she asked. "I want to know how to really turn them on!"
"Well, I ... uh, a lot of guys like to be sort of, you know, teased..."
"Yeah, you know, that's when you kind of give a guy just a little bit of what he wants, but then you stop, to make him need more. You can pretend you don't know what he wants. Get him frustrated, wanting it, make him beg for more." Jamie felt his heart racing; Heather didn't know it, but he was describing his nearly constant state when he was around her.
"Ooooo, that's naughty!" she cooed, licking her lips. "Is that what you like, Jamie? Do you like it when a girl teases your cock? Does that get you hot?"
He blushed and stammered, causing her to giggle with delight and roll backwards on the floor, hugging her knees. The view he got of her bottom and between her legs, with those tantalizing nylon panties, added to the problem he was having keeping his hard-on from popping out of his shorts.
"It does, it does!" she laughed. "I know Jamie's secret, I know Jamie's secret," she chanted in sing-song, like a little girl on the playground at recess. "I'm learning all sorts of things about my quiet big brother tonight! Okay, show me more..."
Jamie was quite excited by now, and told Heather in detail about all the things he fantasized about having girls do to him, even if he hadn't ever experienced most of it. He had moved back to the couch, and she sat on the floor in front of him listening raptly, excited and fascinated by what she was learning about male sexual pleasure. After his initial embarrassment, he found he was getting a rush from this, like an exhibitionist exposing himself to an excited little girl.
After about an hour he looked at the clock. "Oh gee, Sis, we better get to bed," he said. "I have to go to work tomorrow."
"Okay," she said. "But first, would you like to see what my big brother taught me, 'Chris'?" She took the banana and moved up to him on her knees, positioning herself between his legs. "The next time we go out, you're going to get a big surprise..." She took the banana and held it in her hands between Jamie's legs, curving upward like a stiff erection, just inches from the real hard-on that was hiding in his pants. Then she proceeded to kiss it and flick her tongue up and down, mimicking the exciting blowjobs that Jamie had just described to her. She never took her eyes from his face as she pretended to ravish his cock with her tongue and lips, ending by taking the end of the banana in her mouth and sucking gently. Jamie was speechless, his mouth hanging open. Heather laughed, and stood up. Turning sideways to him, she lifted her arms and stretched, yawning. Light from the floor lamp backlit her, clearly outlining the swell of her raised breasts through the transparent negligee as she smiled down at her brother.
"Oooo the things I'm going to do to Chris when we go out this weekend!" she said. "And, of course, I'll tell my wonderful teacher all about it afterwards -- g'night, Jamie!"
She turned and tripped down the hallway to her bedroom. Jamie was beside himself with lust and frustrated desire. He staggered to his room and collapsed into bed. The next hour was spent in tormented, delirious cock-stroking, intensifying and completing the number that his tantalizing step-sister had unwittingly done on him.
Jamie returned home from some shopping in the late afternoon on the following Saturday. Heather wasn't there, but she'd told him not to plan on her for dinner, since she was going on a date with her new boyfriend. He made himself an early supper from leftovers, and was puttering around in the kitchen cleaning up when Heather arrived home unexpectedly.
"Hi, Heather, I didn't expect..." He did a double-take and his voice trailed off when he saw what she was wearing. She was all in pink in a cheerleader outfit: a pleated mini-skirt, close-fitting around her hips and rear, starting just below her navel, and extending with a slight flare to mid-thigh. Above this, a top with three-quarter length sleeves, cut off to reveal her entire midriff -- the hem went across the small of her back, and rose as it came around in front to pass just below her ample bust. Her hair was tied up in pony tails, and she wore stockings. She was carrying a small stool.
"Well, that's an, uh, an interesting get-up, Sis!" he remarked, looking at her in wonder.
"Didn't I tell you about this?" she replied. "We had a special session in my aerobics class at the gym today -- strip aerobics. Instead of the usual session, one of the girls in the class who used to be a stripper showed us some moves we could use while we were doing the usual exercise stuff. So, "step" aerobics -- "strip" aerobics! Get it?"
"Uh huh -- so that's why the get-up?"
"Yep. She said we should wear something that was slutty- cute, and this is what I came up with. Like it?" She did a little pirouette to show off her costume.
"Very pretty -- and slutty! Did you have fun?"
"Oh, yes, we had a blast! We did all of the usual exercise steps, but we took off pieces of our costumes as we went along. We were all pretty much naked at the end!"
"Uh, any guys in the class?" He winked at her.
"Noooo, this one was girls only, you naughty boy!" she said, wagging her finger at him.
"Too bad -- would have been interesting to see, for artistic reasons, of course!"
"Oh yeah, right!" she laughed. She turned to head down the hall, but then stopped and turned to him again. "Do you want to see a couple of the moves we did?"
"Well, sure, why not," he said, perhaps a little too quickly.
"Okay, I'll do a little bit," she said. "I can't do the whole routine, of course, because then I'd have to take off all my clothes, and I know that's not anything you'd want to see!"
Jamie smiled weakly and mumbled something inaudible. Heather positioned her stool in the middle of the room, and started to go through her usual aerobic routine, stepping up and down on the stool. She was humming a tune that Jamie didn't recognize.
"It's better with the music," she panted. "You'll just have to use your imagination." As she continued, she began to add little flips of her skirt as she stepped onto the stool, or performed little jumps and twists on the floor. The first time she did this Jamie noticed with a start that she was wearing a black garter belt with her stockings, and sheer black panties. The combination of the high-school cheerleader getup with the sexy garter belt was extremely erotic, and Jamie became immediately aroused. It became worse for him when she raised her arms and performed several stretching maneuvers, leaning to the side or extending herself up on tiptoes. When she did this, her abbreviated top rode up over her high, firm breasts -- she wasn't wearing a bra, and two or three inches of the bottom of her creamy globes were exposed to his view, exciting him further.
After about a minute of teasing peeks up her skirt she loosened its belt, then reached behind her and lowered a zipper. The skirt fell to the floor, completely exposing her garter belt and stockings. Jamie's eyes were glued below her waist, as she executed little turning steps in time to her humming, giving him a view from all sides of her sheer black panties, stretched tight across her rear and clinging revealingly to her crotch. On the outside he kept his cool, but inside he was going crazy.
Finally, she slowly ran her hands up her sides to the tantalizing little top, and began pushing it up to remove it. When her breasts were almost exposed, about halfway uncovered, she stopped, and pulled the top back into place. "Well, that's about as far as I can go without taking everything off!" she said cheerily. "But you get the idea."
Jamie moaned to himself, his aching desire to see her naked once again frustrated. She gathered up her skirt and the stool and headed down the hall.
"I gotta get moving now," she said breathlessly, "gotta grab a shower before my big date tonight!" She winked at her brother and ran into the bathroom.
Jamie was left hanging in a state of intense arousal. When she started he knew that it was only going to be a sample of her routine, a little taste, but he had become thoroughly hooked by her tease, and inwardly had fervently hoped that she would continue taking her clothes off and grant him the view of her delicious nude body that he'd had been craving for years, and which in his imagination had been such a tantalizing prod to his masturbation. He walked back and forth in agitation, running his hand through his hair, moaning her name aloud. Her performance had given him a full-blown erection, still rigid and insistent in his pants.
The sound of the shower running came from the bathroom. Hesitantly, he moved down the hall, drawn by the maddening knowledge that just on the other side of the door was his beautiful step-sister, naked and glistening, running her soapy hands up and down that incredible body. When he had almost reached the bathroom he stopped short -- the door hadn't been completely closed! It was ajar about an inch, and provided an opportunity to peek inside.
Jamie was torn. He knew it was wrong to invade Heather's privacy -- but he was so excited! His cock was rigid and aching, and he was absolutely dying to see her, to see her naked, to go crazy looking at her mouth-watering tits and between her legs and, oh my god, that incredible ass! His will-power was no match for his lust -- unzipping his fly to release his throbbing erection, he moved towards the door.
The sound of running water thundered in his ears, competing with the pounding of his heart. He pushed the door open a bit more, to enable him to see the shower where Heather was splashing about, blissfully unaware of what he was doing. The transparent shower door was fogged with steam, so that he was able to see only a blurred image of her as she moved about under the spray. He stroked himself as he watched, groaning with pleasure and frustration, tantalized by her indistinct moving figure, hoping fervently for a better view when she opened the shower door. Finally the sound of water stopped. He held his breath and stopped stroking; his cock was rock-hard and vertical, trembling in its excitement. The shower door slid to the side, and Heather reached around it to take a towel from the rack. She did it quickly, and was drying the front of her body before Jamie had had an opportunity to get the view he wanted. He kept watching -- when she stepped out he was sure to see more, he just knew it. But then she looked up, looked right at the door. Jamie drew back in horror -- oh my god, he thought, she's seen me! Oh shit!
He hurried down the hall to his room, embarrassed beyond measure, kicking himself for what he had just done, and for being so careless. If only he hadn't given into temptation, oh god, what's going to happen now? He zipped up his fly and paced around his room, trying to figure out how he should act.
He heard Heather moving around in the bathroom, and he searched his mind frantically for something to say to her, some excuse. Maybe she hadn't really seen him, so maybe he should just pretend to have been in his room the whole time.
The bathroom door opened, and Heather emerged, wrapped in a towel. Jamie stepped out of his room at the same time, and tried to put on an innocent, nonchalant face.
Heather looked at him for a moment. "Well," she said, "I know what you've been doing."
His heart sank. He was caught, busted. He felt terrible.
"You do?" he said miserably, not being able to find any other words.
"Yes, I do," she said. "I mean, it's so obvious. It must have gotten you awfully hot." She pointed to his crotch, where his erection was still hugely evident.
"Oh, Heather, I'm so sorry, I feel terrible about this! I ... I hope you'll be able to forgive me!"
She looked at him blankly. "Forgive you? What's there to forgive? I know boys like to do that. You can't help it, can you? Besides, I've known about your magazines for years!"
Jamie blinked and stared at her. "My mag..."
"Sure!" she said with a grin. "I knew all about those magazines you kept in your closet to jerk off to! Do you still have them? Actually, I guess these days you'd just find stuff on your computer, wouldn't you?"
Jamie was stunned -- and relieved. "Well, I suppose maybe..."
"Oh, don't try to deny it!" she laughed. "Actually, I think it's kind of cute -- you sitting at your computer, looking at pictures of hot girls, touching yourself and getting so hot and bothered! It's probably good for you, too, seeing as you don't have a girlfriend these days. Now tell the truth -- you were in your room just now having 'fun', weren't you?"