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Jinx

By: MindsMirror



Notes [Last revised October 13, 2015]: 



Jinx



The last thing I needed to do, of course, was empty my bladder. I turned to the toilet and noted, with just a bit of pleasure and surprise, that Andy had left the seat down. As I sat down, I noticed a small drop of creamy liquid hanging below the inside edge of the seat ring. A really strange feeling crept over me as I realized what that liquid probably was, and why Andy had taken so long in the bathroom.

Finishing my own task, I wiped myself and then took a couple clean squares of paper to wipe the inside of the seat ring. Though I was already quite certain what the substance was, something inside of me wanted positive proof. It was a spur of the moment decision, but I raised the tissue and inhaled the aroma. It was exactly what I'd judged it to be. Though I was still - technically - a virgin, I'd sucked a couple cocks since heading off to college. The sweet, musky scent was very distinctive. I hit the flush lever, and dropped the paper into the toilet, then spent a moment composing myself and trying to force an entire gamut of urges and images out of my mind before heading to bed.

Upon returning to the room, I noted that Andy had taken the far side of the bed, leaving me the side with the night table and lamp. He had removed his tee shirt and appeared to already be asleep. It had been a warm day, and he had the sheet drawn up to just below the elastic waistband of his boxers. His chest rose and fell in a pattern that I knew was customary of deep nocturnal breathing. Silently, I slid in under the covers and turned off the lamp.

I spent the next thirty minutes or so, lying there and waiting fruitlessly for sleep to arrive. My efforts at dislodging those mental images had failed, and I was seriously regretting not having copied my brother and dealing with the problem while I was still in the bathroom. The tension built inside me, like a coil spring being wound ever more tightly. Then - without warning - the narrow bit of tissue between my nostrils began to itch, and I lifted a hand to scratch it. That was my downfall. The liquid I'd wiped from beneath the toilet seat had bled through the thin tissue, leaving its trace on my fingertip. The rich, musky aroma assailed my olfactory senses, all my resistance fled, and I gave in to the urge to relieve my tension.

Being careful not shake the bed much, I worked to make the thoughts go away. I was trying to think only about my own actions, but the thought of what Andy had done kept coming back into my head. He'd obviously gone to sleep easily. I tried desperately not to visualize him doing it, just how the release would help me sleep, but it was like telling myself not to think of pink elephants. Worse, still, I wondered what Andy had been thinking about, when he'd taken care of his condition in the bathroom. One particular thought stuck with me and pushed me rapidly to climax. Sleep came quickly, then.

The next morning I awoke somewhat slowly, to the sound of birds chirping in the tree outside the window I'd left open overnight. Gradually, I began to become aware of my surroundings, and the realization made me feel a bit awkward. Overnight, I'd somehow managed to move farther across the width of the bed, and my back was now spooned into Andy, who was pressed rather tightly between me and the bedroom wall. My nightgown had ridden up around my waist, in the process. In his slumber, Andy was sporting a huge erection that was pressing between my cheeks, and his left arm was draped across me, the hand at the end of that arm lightly cupping my right breast through the thin fabric of the nightgown. I'd had boyfriends at college and, though we'd fooled around some, I'd never spent a night in bed with any of them. The feeling of waking up in the arms of a man, his erection wedged firmly against my ass, was terribly arousing. I couldn't help myself as I rubbed against it for several minutes, my hand drifting down between my thighs. The whole experience was intensely erotic, for some reason that I couldn't allow myself to fully grasp, and I was getting urgently close to my point of release when Andy began to stir and I had to stop.

"Oh - um, sorry, Annie," he said, sliding his hand away from my breast. "That - um - sorry, that happens. I didn't mean to."

Obviously, he was feeling a little guilty over the situation, and - frankly - so was I.

"It's okay." I yawned. "I think I was spooning against you. You know what they say, about it taking two to tango..."

He climbed over me, then, making a hasty exit to shower and change. As soon as he closed the door, I threw caution to the wind and finished what I'd started while he held me. This time, though, as my sensations neared their peak, I was wantonly thinking about what it might look like, or feel like, to have him inside me. The resultant climax was unlike any I'd ever achieved before, by my own hand. Then, of course, the impact of what I'd been thinking - what I'd been actively fantasizing - hit me, and guilt set in.

 "That was over the line, girl!" I admonished myself.  "What is going on with you? You've got to get it under control!"

I was still a little flushed from my exertions when Andy returned to the room, and I wondered if he noticed it when I slipped past him on my way to get my shower.

In the steamy bathroom, his scent filled my senses. Under the spray of the shower, I closed my eyes and remembered the numerous bath-times we'd shared in this very tub, as children. I was still reveling in the fondness of those memories - and paying an inordinate amount of attention to washing between my thighs - when loud banging on the bathroom door interrupted my thoughts. 

"There are other people who need showers this morning, Annie," he yelled.

It was just like when I'd lived there before going off to college. Dad was not happy that I was using all the hot water. Apparently, Andy had already presented himself in the kitchen, for Dad to have known precisely who was in the bathroom.

"Be right out!" I answered, finishing up quickly.

Back in my room, I found it unoccupied. Andy had packed his few items back into his duffel and gone outside to enjoy the fresh morning air and wait for the rest of us. I finished dressing and joined him on the small front porch, and we chatted idly for a bit while waiting on the rest of the family to get ready. 

"Good morning, Andy, Annie," Jason finally greeted us as he came out onto the porch, his small suitcase in hand.

"You all ready, kiddo?" I asked him.

"Yep!" he chirped. "How long 'til we leave?"

"Just a couple minutes," I told him, laughing and ruffling his hair a bit. "Why don't you and Andy go get your suitcase loaded in the minivan, while I go tell the folks we're leaving?"

As my two brothers headed for Dad's minivan, I stepped back into the house and found Mom in the kitchen, attending to her usual last-minute task of inspecting the refrigerator and tossing anything that would spoil while we were gone into the wastebasket. Dad would put the trash out at the curb before they left.

"We're gonna get going, Mom," I told her, giving her a quick hug. "I need to stop for gas, before we hit the Interstate."

"Alright, dear," she smiled at me. "Your father and I will probably only be about five or ten minutes behind you. I just have to finish cleaning out the fridge and then let your dad take out the trash."

"Then we'll see you on the road," I nodded.

Back outside, I saw Andy standing next to the open passenger door of my Mini. Jason was already in and buckled into his seat belt, in eager anticipation.

"Nobody has to go the bathroom, all of a sudden, do they?" I asked with a laugh as I slid behind the wheel.

"I went, just before I came outside," Jason reported.

"I'm good until after I have the chance to process some coffee," Andy nodded. "I hope they have a fresh pot at the gas station. Where were you planning on stopping?"

"There's a big 7-Eleven, just before the entrance ramp to I-75," I shrugged. "They've got gas pumps and a big coffee bar - I could do with a nice, big mocha latte, myself - and, for Jason, they've got a huge candy selection. I'm sure we'll find that bag of bulls eyes I promised him."

"Yippee!" the squirt cheered from the back seat.

Smiling at his exuberance, I slotted the ignition key, started the engine, and backed the Mini out onto the street.

Before we'd driven three blocks, I heard Jason asked from the back seat, "Will we make it to the beach today?"

I smiled to myself. At least it was different than the 'Are we there, yet', I'd expected to hear from him.

"Oh, yeah; there will probably even be enough time to get in a swim," Andy answered him for me.

"I can hardly wait," Jason said excitedly.

Neither could I, I suddenly realized - but I wasn't really thinking about swimming.

"Put those thoughts out of your mind, pervert!" I chastised myself.

It was only a matter of about a ten minute drive, and then I was pulling in at one of the pump islands in front of the big 7-Eleven store, just a hundred yards or so before the entry ramp we'd need to take to get onto I-75 and really start the trip.

Turning off the engine, I dug in my purse and pulled a five and my debit card from my wallet. I handed the five to Andy.

"Will you get Jason his candy, while I pump gas?" I asked. 

"Sure thing. Come on Jason, let's collect your ransom." 

"He doesn't get the whole bag, you know; just a piece, for now. The rest of the bag is for future ransoms," I laughed.

"Roger, that," Andy called over his shoulder. He and Jason both laughed and exchanged big grins as they headed off to get the candy. I'd finished pumping and was back in the car by the time the two of them returned. Andy held a tray with two coffee cups on it, and a bag, in one hand, while he mussed Jason's sandy blonde hair with the other; they really were a pair!

Just as the boys both got inside the car and closed their doors, I spotted Mom and Dad in the minivan, passing the gas station.

"Buckle up, boys!" I warned them as I turned the ignition key and fired up the Mini. "We're off, in hot pursuit!" Fortunately, I had clearance to get onto the road and make the right-turn, and we were only a scant hundred yards behind the minivan as we rolled down the entrance ramp to the freeway.

"That was lucky timing," Andy said.

"Yeah, it's just like I -"

"planned it," Jason matched me from the back seat. "Jinx!"

"I guess I should stop using clichés," I thought. Wow! The little guy was starting early, and we'd just gotten on the road

"Shall I pay your ransom, Sis?" Andy teased me.

"Aww, Andy!" Jason whined. "You messed it up!"

"No, I didn't," Andy countered. "I didn't say her name. Saying 'Bro' or 'Sis' is like using a pronoun instead of the person's name!"

Technically, that wasn't quite true, but Jason wasn't far along enough in school to have learned that. Since - according to the rules of the game - I still couldn't speak until Jason spoke the 'release' phrase, I nodded my consent to Andy, flashing him a quick thumbs-up for his great save. Andy tossed another bulls eye over his shoulder for Jason to add to his collection.

"Deal, Annie," Jason said with a big grin on his face.

Released from my silence I said, "This is going to be a long trip if you guys are going to gang up on me." I was smiling at Andy and he winked at me.

"We'll try not to do that too often," Andy offered, laughing lightly. "I'm sure he was just waiting to get one on you, though. He hasn't managed that, since we got home, last night."

"Anybody have a favorite radio station?" I asked. "If not, we can listen to some music I have on a memory stick."

"Let's listen to the local pop station until we lose it, and then switch to what you brought," Andy suggested. 

"Sounds fair to me," I nodded. "Andy, you're in charge of music! Tune us in!"

The music tended to take the place of conversation, though, and I soon regretted having suggested it. On the flip side of the coin, I figured it meant no more jinxes for a while, so I wisely took the reprieve until we lost the station. 

At some point Andy and Jason started playing punch buggies. I stayed out of that, for the most part. Jason was simply unreachable, in the right rear seat, and even turning my body a bit to punch at Andy would have been a bit unsafe. The traffic was picking up and I needed to stay focused on the road.

About an hour into the trip, the station we'd been listening to became nothing but static. I used the control on my steering wheel to mute the volume, thinking I'd try to reconnect with Jason. I-75 south through this part of Georgia was a pretty boring stretch of four-lane lined with trees and billboards for Florida tourist attractions, so I started up the conversation.

"So, is this your first trip to the beach, Jason?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Ma'am? Jeez, he was making me feel like an old lady. 

"Jason, I know Mom taught you to be polite, but I'm your sister. My name is 'Annie', got it?"

"Sorry, Annie, it's just habit."

I guess it's a southern thing, any more; it seems to have faded out, above the Mason-Dixon line. Down south, though, any male more than a few years older than you is sir, and any female of a similar age difference is a ma'am. 

"You can swim, right?" 

"Oh yeah. Mom taught me, at the community pool, and then got me enrolled at the Y for advanced lessons," he said proudly.

"We'll have to see if we can locate a boogie board for you," I said promisingly.

I don't know who was more excited about that prospect, Andy or Jason. They started talking about it, and how Andy liked to body surf. It was so cool how close they were despite their age difference. I couldn't help but think what a great father Andy was going to make, someday. Strangely, the thought made me jealous of the yet-undiscovered gal who'd be lucky enough to snare him as a husband, and I had to stomp on it before I started dwelling on it.

"How is school going?" I asked, noting a convenient pause in their conversation.

Since I hadn't singled out either Andy or Jason with my question, they both began to talk. Andy was a fraction of a second ahead of our little brother, though, and Jason decided to wait his turn. 

"I'm actually doing great!" Andy told me proudly. "I had some trouble my first year, I think it was homesickness. I've got A's in most of my courses, now, and I'm on track to graduate, next year."

"How about you Jason? What are they teaching you?" I asked.

"I'm bored, most of the time. Everything they try to teach me, I already know. The most fun is when our teacher reads to us, after lunch. I like reading the best. I have to do an oral book report, when I get back," he said.

That really brought back memories. Mom had always had us ahead of things in school. Andy and I were almost always in the same advanced classes. Alphabetical order meant we always had the same homeroom. It also seemed I followed Andy with reports. I glanced over at Andy, who was clearly thinking the same thing.

"Do you remember - " we both started to ask.

"You go - " he offered.

"Jinx!" I exclaimed, triumphantly, although I had a hunch he let me have that one. "Hmm, I don't really want candy. What should I make his ransom be, Jason?"

"Oh, I know!" he chirped. "You should make him drive a while, so you can relax."

Andy nodded his agreement. 

"Deal, Andy. I'll pull off at the next rest area. Why don't you call Mom, and see if they want to stop, too?"

"Sounds good to me, Annie!" he said. "I could use a bathroom break, actually. That coffee is starting to work its way through me."

Pulling his cell phone from its holster on his hip, he put the call through. Mom and Dad agreed that it was time to take a break, but they suggested somewhere with a restaurant, instead of a roadside rest area. That sounded good to all of us, since we'd all skipped breakfast in order to get out on the road ahead of most of the traffic. 

Shortly thereafter, I saw Dad's turn signal begin to flash, and we hit an exit ramp moments later. The place they'd picked was nothing fancy, but it wasn't a chain fast-food joint, either; just a little Mom and Pop burger place with good food and clean restrooms. We ate fairly quickly, made our restroom visits, and prepared to get back on the road.

"Jason, why don't you ride with us a while?" Mom asked. "Let your brother and sister have some twin-time."

God, I loved her. I didn't know how she knew what we needed, but it sure seemed like she was almost as in tune with Andy and me as we were, with one another. 

I tossed Andy the keys, "Your turn, remember?"

"Yeah, I like driving and this Mini seems pretty cool. My old Civic is reliable, but boring."

Andy got in and started the car, and we followed the minivan back out onto the interstate. Dad was a stickler for doing the speed limit. Despite that, we were making good time as we neared the I-10 junction. With Jason out of the car, I assumed our conversation would become more personal, so I went to full intrusion mode. 

"How's your love life?" I asked him bluntly.

"Oh, I've dated some, even had a couple girlfriends," he answered, kind of evasively. "Nothing lasting or serious, though. I'm trying to stay focused on finishing up next year."

There was more left unspoken in his words than he was letting on, to me. I wondered if he'd been hurt or made feel self-conscious, like I had, since we'd both been so introverted as kids. We never really needed much from people around us, because we'd always had each other, but that wasn't really an option for either of us, now. Our separation had changed us, and I wasn't sure it had been for the better.

I let the silence continue as I looked him over while his eyes stayed focused on the road. 

He was clad in his usual warm-weather attire: a tank top, shorts, and whitewater rafting sandals. The tank top really accented his well-developed arms and shoulders, while the mid-thigh style shorts gave me a perfect view of his toned, tanned legs. Nothing about his physique was either muscle-bound or bulging, but it was clear that he exercised regularly. For some reason, I couldn't tear my eyes away from him, and I continued to sit there and take him all in until I realized that he'd caught me staring. Blushing, I turned my head and found some passing billboards to look at. After a moment, I risked one last glanced back at him, and I saw the tent forming in his shorts. Blushing furiously, now, and silently cursing the sudden burst of moist heat between my thighs, I turned to focus on the scenery out my window, again.

"What about your love life, Sis?" he finally worked up the nerve and the words to turn my own question back on me.

"Oh - um - me? Well, kind of the same really," I felt like such a hypocrite. Now, I was being just as evasive as he'd been, with me. I hated feeling like that, and so I cleared my throat and attempted to answer again, trying to be a little more forthcoming.

"I had one boyfriend that lasted a whole semester, my sophomore year," I told him. "I had a couple of shorter relationships, both before and after that one, but haven't had much more than a date, since Christmas." 

The last boyfriend was the one who'd dumped me for the cheerleader over Christmas break. I didn't give Andy that detail. I was still flushed from seeing him grow aroused because of my gaze.

"I can't tell you how much I missed you my first year in college," I said. "Sometimes I wish we'd gone to the same school."

"You and me both, Annie!" he echoed my sentiment. "I think I nearly flunked out my first year. I know I said homesickness, earlier, but mostly it was you that I was missing."

His admission almost floored me; I'd thought maybe it was just me, who felt that way! We'd only seen each other a couple of times, since we'd gone off to college. That was partly my fault; I'd tried to stay away to lessen our reliance upon one another. Last Christmas, I decided to come home after my break-up with Ken, but Andy had gone on a ski trip with some friends.




Jinx



"Yeah, we haven't seen much of each other, these last couple years," I admitted, finally.

"I thought you were avoiding me," he said disheartened.

That stung, mostly because it had been largely true. 

"I'm so sorry, Andy!" I exclaimed, as I leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "I was trying to be strong." I turned away quickly and looked out the window. Tears were forming in my eyes.

"I know you thought we always relied on one another a little too much," he said, as he stroked my hair. "Please, don't cry."

His last words startled me. How the heck had he known I was crying? At first, I thought that maybe he saw them in one of the mirrors, but - with me facing out my side window, that was impossible. Then, the truth finally dawned on me.

"Silly girl! He's your twin. He knows you're crying, the same way you've always known things about each other without having to say them!"

I wiped the tears away, but more came. I wasn't sobbing; it was just that the tears were flowing and I couldn't seem to stop them. My decision to avoid him felt so stupid, in that moment. I had become less reliant on him, but the connection - the attraction between us - had not dimmed one whit! No, in fact, the attraction was even stronger now. The saying goes, absence makes the heart grow fonder, and it was obviously true in my case!

"Andy, I was selfish and stupid. Do you forgive me?" I asked, as I still gazed out the window.

"Annie, you don't ever need my forgiveness. It'd be like forgiving a part of myself."

I nearly melted hearing his words. Nothing could keep us apart. I turned around and flung my arms around him.

"I love you," we said in unison.

Tears were still streaking down my cheeks. Andy glanced at me, taking his eyes off the road momentarily. I waited for it - I knew it was coming. He was dangling it out there forever. Why wasn't he just going to pull the trigger? Then I knew he wasn't going to do it. This was too serious a moment, for either one of us to play that stupid game. I held back as well. We both knew. I knew that we knew, and I knew that he understood, as well. We simply weren't to the point where either one of us was ready to admit the underlying implication of those three little words. 

I released my embrace and leaned back in my seat. My tears were starting to ebb, and Andy passed me a tissue from the little box on my dash. I closed my eyes and let the new feeling wash over me, taking joy in it and wondering, with a little apprehension, what would happen between us over the next few days and nights - most especially the nights, as we shared our own room together.

What seemed like just moments later; Andy had opened the passenger door and was gently shaking me awake. We had arrived at the hotel. I'd fallen asleep and he'd driven the entire remainder of the trip. He hadn't shut the engine off, and I took a quick glance at the little digital clock. It was only mid-afternoon. I felt a little better, in that I knew I hadn't been asleep that long, but I hadn't meant to do even that.

"You okay, Annie?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, I guess I needed a nap."

He extended a hand and assisted me out of the car. As I stood, I turned and looked at the back seat and the rear cargo area. They were both empty.

"Where's our stuff?" I asked.

"It's already in our room," he explained. "Dad checked everybody in and gave me our keys. I told him and Mom that you were napping, and I think they got a chuckle out of it. At any rate, I fished in your purse and found your other set of car keys, grabbed our bags, and left you here with the car locked and the air conditioning running while I took our stuff inside. Figured I'd give you a few more minutes to doze."

Looking around I saw Dad's car next to mine, but didn't see them. "Did they already go in?" I asked.

"Yeah, Mom, Dad and Jason are on the third floor in one of those suites with a fold-out couch. We're on the first floor," he informed me.

I was excited to see our room but didn't want Andy to know. "You lead the way, brother dear."

Andy was carrying his bag in one hand and holding the magnetic card pouch in the other. We took the elevator up from the ground floor parking and found ourselves inside the lobby. Andy looked at the card and said, "I guess we're down here to the left."

He stopped in front of room 121, slid the card and the door clicked. He held the door open for me to go through. 

"Such a gentleman," I praised him. Inside, I was a little disappointed to find that there were two double beds. In the back of my mind - and especially in light of what we'd confessed to each other not that long ago, I'd been hoping there'd only be one, and we'd be forced to share it.

"Which one would you like, Andy?"

"Oh, I don't care, you pick, Annie."

"Hmm, okay, I'll take the one closest to the bathroom."

Andy went over to the one next to the sliding door and opened the drapes. Outside the big sliding door, there was a little balcony with two plastic chairs and a little table, and a great view of the beach. The room, itself, was very nice, with a bright and cheery décor and color scheme in soft yellows and browns.

"I hope this isn't costing them too much," Andy said.

"I was thinking the same thing," I agreed. "This place looks brand new."

"Well, Dad said we were going to meet by the pool before heading down to the beach for a swim before dinner," Andy informed me. "You want to get changed first?"

"Yeah," I said a little too excitedly. I grabbed my one-piece swimsuit from the small pouch in the side of my bag and headed to the restroom quickly. Inside there was a very nice walk-in shower that looked big enough to fit two people without being crowded. The twin-sink vanity appeared to be granite, and was decorated with the usual array of little bottles of shampoo and lotion. A bar of facial soap rested in a cute little dish that was shaped like a scallop shell. A compact pistol-shaped blow-dryer hung in a little rack on one wall above the sink. The toilet area was at the opposite end of the room, and had a door that could close it off for privacy. A nice tall open cabinet with bath linens topped the whole thing off. I was in awe. 

I changed quickly, and then took a glance at my reflection in the mirror., I noticed the streaking on my face from crying earlier, and took a wash cloth to clean up. 

Andy must have told them to go ahead before they saw me, I thought to myself. 

The thoughtfulness of his action sent a warm tingle up my spine. I stood there looking at myself and tried to put on a smile. My body image was giving me pause, for a split second, I wished I had just slightly larger breasts. Nothing huge, just a little to fill out my swimsuit a little - and maybe make Andy look.

As satisfied as I could be, with my appearance, I went back out to the main area of the room. Andy had risked changing with me taking so long. He looked cute - and hot - wearing a pair of tight black spandex swim shorts. They weren't 'low-rise', and they came down to his upper thigh, but they did very little to conceal the size of his package. He was standing sideways looking out the window, so I was getting a profile view that had me staring again. He wasn't looking at me, initially, but as I entered the room, he heard me, turned, and caught me staring at it - er, him. We both started blushing.

"Sorry, Andy. I - um - I didn't expect that." I continued blushing.

"I got them for the trip," he said smiling mischievously. 

"Expecting to score, down on the beach?" I teased.

"No, but I'm probably in the best shape I've been in my whole life. The way my luck runs, by the next time I get to a beach, I'll either be too old - or I'll have too big a pot-belly or something - to feel at all comfortable wearing this sort of thing. Flaunt it while you've got it, you know. Well, let's go find the rest of the family, shall we?"

I put my room key in one of those swimmers' wrist wallets, grabbed my beach towel, and we headed to the pool. We found Mom and Dad almost immediately. They had evidently already gotten Jason a boogie board, and he was super happy and couldn't wait to get in the water with it. He was asking Andy if he'd take him out, before we even reached them. 

"Andy, Andy, will you take me out? Dad said the water was a little too rough for me to go, by myself."

"Sure, buddy. Let's go. We'll see y'all down there," he said leaving with Jason.

"They are so great, together," I said to Mom.

"Andy is a great big brother," she agreed.

"Hey, I was going to get that board for Jason. I know you guys must be spending a bunch on this place. Won't you let me pay for it?"

"Ann, you are such a dear," Mom said. "We've been saving for this trip, for quite a while. You and Andy never got many vacations, when you were younger, and there was never one where we went to any beach. We wanted to do this now, before we all get too old to really enjoy it. Jason is getting old enough to remember this kind of stuff, and we really wanted you and Andy to have a great twenty-first birthday." 

"That's right, honey. We're picking up all of the expenses on this," Dad agreed. "Now let's not have another word about money, and get down to that beach."

I don't think I'd ever seen Mom or Dad quite so happy. They were practically as giddy as teenagers, themselves. We all rushed down to the beach and found where Andy and Jason had dropped their towels and sandals. I kicked my sandals off and went to find the boys, while Mom and Dad spread out a big sheet they'd brought.

The beach was a little crowded, since it was late afternoon, but I quickly spotted both my brothers down at the water's edge, Andy helping Jason to figure out his board. The waves were a little rough and Andy was hovering around Jason as the youngster took what was probably his second or third solo run. I splashed out into the ocean, timing my advances to meet waves with the least impact. I reached Andy just as Jason - who'd tumbled off his board in that last wave - came up for air. Quickly, Andy had him by both arms.

"You okay, buddy?" Andy asked him. I don't know why he bothered, though. I could tell by the ear-to-ear grin that split his face - so very like Andy's own, when he was really having fun - that the kid was perfectly okay and loving it.

"Yeah, that was great! Take me out farther!" Jason implored him.

"Let's stay around here for a bit longer, little guy," Andy said laughingly.

"He's just raring to go, isn't he?" I asked.

"He's a daredevil!" Andy laughed. "He scared the crap out of me, right before you showed up!"

"Must take after somebody," I mused, scratching my head and grinning at him. "I wonder who?"

"Now, now," Andy waggled a finger at me. "Seems to me that we both had a little of the 'daredevil' in us, growing up."

By this time, Jason had paddled out a few yards farther, slipping up the rise of the next wave to catch it as big brother had taught him, and I moved closer to Andy, touching him lightly on the arm.

"You're a really good big brother, Andy," I told him.

"Thanks. I like hanging out with him. He's a neat kid."

"You're going to make some lucky kid a great dad," I predicted.

"Well, not any time soon," Andy said laughing. "Not the way my luck's been running."

Jason was really getting the hang of his board. He came in with another wave, this time riding all the way in until his board hit the sand, and headed right back out. Andy was giving him a little more freedom, now, and loosening up. 

As we waded together in the waist-deep water, watching Jason, I said, "Hey, I'm sorry about earlier."

"Annie, I told you, you don't need to be sorry or forgiven. Stop worrying about it."

Without thinking, I leaned toward him and hugged him tight, again. I wanted him to know how much I appreciated him. He was hugging me back, when I suddenly realized he was stiffening against me. I ignored it, but Andy seemed embarrassed and let go of me, backing away a few inches. The water was up above our stomachs, though, so nothing was visible.

"Sorry, Annie," he mumbled.

"Now you're the one who doesn't have to apologize," I teased, looking slightly up into his face.

The tease didn't work at all the way I'd hoped. He grew very red in the face, but I could tell that it was the blush of his embarrassment, not anger at me. He swam out a bit farther until the water was up to his chest. I stayed back, watching Jason, not wanting to leave him alone. I also wanted to give Andy the space that he needed, just then. 

Jason was now out at the point where the water between waves was nearly up to his head as he tried to reach where I was, so I moved in a bit. Once I was sure that Jason could get to me, I took a quick glance at the shore. Mom and Dad were standing together at the tide line, but they hadn't come in yet. It was weird, since Dad had seemed so eager to get down to the beach. Jason was a decent swimmer, though, so I didn't cover him too closely. 

"What's the matter with Andy?" Jason asked when he got close enough to me that he didn't have to shout.

I struggled for several seconds to come up with an answer. "You know Andy and I are both introverts, right?" I asked him.

"What's that? Is it part of being a twin?"

"No," I laughed. "It means that we often like to be alone. We don't always want to be with a bunch of people."

"Oh, yeah, Andy is like that sometimes. But he looks upset or something."

I turned and looked at Andy. He didn't really look upset to me. 

"He might have been upset with me, a little, because I was teasing him a bit," I suggested. "Now, I think he's just contemplating. He'll be back to play with you, soon, I promise. For now, you wanna hop on my back? I can take you out a little farther." 

"Yeah!" he exclaimed. That would be cool, Annie!"

He hooked onto my back, and I coached him how to wrap his legs around my waist and just grip my shoulders with his hands, so his arms wouldn't be around my neck. I was giving him a horse ride into the waves. Andy saw us, and smiled and waved. As for Jason, he was having way too much fun. 

We'd bobbed around in the waves for several minutes, when Mom and Dad suddenly appeared beside us. Talk about being startled! They'd moved in on us so stealthily that I hadn't heard a thing!

"Hey, you two. I was wondering when you'd get out here," I said to them.

"We can't let you youngsters have all the fun," Dad chuckled. Then he turned to Jason. "You be careful you don't hurt your sister, young man!"

"I promise!" Jason told him

"He's fine, Dad." I told my father reassuringly.

We all spent the next hour playing and frolicking in the ocean. Dad took Jason on his back a while. Mom and I hung out together, a little closer to shore, keeping charge of the boogie-board. Andy even rejoined us. The entire family was together, relaxing in the water as the waves lessened during the tide-change. For the last couple months, we'd all been involved, in some way or other, in planning to try and make this the picture-perfect family vacation, and it was certainly looking and feeling as though we'd succeeded.

Eventually, Dad got a little tired of having Jason perched on his back, and he suggested that Jason and Mom try riding the boogie board together, while he took the long strap and towed them around. That was an instant smash-hit idea with Jason, who managed to wheedle his mother into going along with it, and they set off parallel to the shoreline, about thirty yards out from the beach.

When Andy and I had a little distance from the group, I closed in on him, hugged him again and murmured into his ear, "It's a natural thing, Andy. Please, don't feel bad about it; I sure as hell don't."

"Do you really mean that, Annie?" he asked me, quietly.

"Of course, I mean it, Bro! Trust me, there isn't a straight girl in the world, who doesn't feel at least a little bit 'complimented', when a handsome guy gets hard because he's standing close to her." I told him, letting just a little bit of my own feelings of arousal put a little 'husk' into my voice. "So, don't feel bad about it, please?"

This time he smiled, hugged me back and whispered, "Okay, I won't." 

The shocking thing was how hard he was, just then. I could feel him against me, and I did my best to stay still and not move any more than the motion of the ocean forced me to. I got a little red, but tried to remain outwardly calm. Luckily we were over my chest, so my excited state wasn't visible either. However, I know Andy could tell, because they were sticking out at least the width of my thumb. We released each other, and swam leisurely for about a hundred yards or so, to rejoin the rest of the family. As we drew up to them, Dad was starting to say something.

"It's funny," he laughed, "but the last couple hours, playing around in the water, has worked up a bigger hunger in me than an entire afternoon of yard-work, back home!"

The rest of us chimed in, in total agreement with him. Mom put her hand up to shade her eyes, and gauged the sun. She'd always been pretty accurate, in gauging the time of day, that way.

"Yeah," she agreed. "It looks like it's getting to be about dinner time. By the time we get back to our rooms, rinse the beach sand off, and get dried off and dressed, it'll definitely be time to get something substantial to eat."

With that, we were all heading back into shore - Andy suggesting to Jason that he should 'catch that last wave, and ride it in, alone'. I think he was quoting one of those old surfing songs, but I wasn't certain. Mom and Dad gathered up their items and the sheet. The rest of us slipped our feet into our sandals and shook the sand out of our beach towels. Together, we trudged up the gentle slope of the beach, toward the gate leading to our hotel. 

Dad informed us, "Tonight will be a simple meal. We'll save the good one for tomorrow."

"Our birthday!" Andy and I said in unison. 

This time I didn't wait. "Jinx."

"Oh, that wasn't fair," Mom and Dad said together. 

"Jinx," Dad said.

The perfect timing of the whole scene had me nearly doubled over with laughter, and Jason joined in the mirth. Dad wound up releasing Mom from her jinx for a kiss. I thought about that, for a second, but didn't think I could get away with it in front of Mom, Dad, and Jason, so I wound up releasing Andy without a penalty. We laughed and teased each other about it, the rest of the way up the beach.

We stopped, near the pool, to use the outdoor showers to briefly rinse the salt and most of the sand from ourselves, then grabbed towels provided by the hotel from a big bin, to hurriedly blot ourselves dry. Jason towel-snapped Andy on his buttocks, and that started us all laughing again. Somehow, we managed to calm down and at least present some aspect of decorum by the time we reached the bank of elevators.

"We'll meet in the lobby around 6:00 PM," Dad said, as the cage finally arrived on the ground floor. "We made reservations, just in case we might need them."

Andy and I got out on the first floor, and turned toward our room. "We'll see you at six," he called over his shoulder as the elevator doors closed.

Andy was quiet, as we walked down the hall to our room, and I figured that things were still just a little tense, between us. I figured I'd have to work to defuse the tension, but I hadn't come up with a plan, at the moment.

"You want to get your shower first?" I asked him. 

"If you're okay with that, sure," he nodded. "But then, we should take turns. You can go first, tomorrow."

He went off to shower, then, taking his change of clothes with him. He was back out in record time and found me sitting on one of the balcony chairs, waiting. 

"Your turn," he said.

I went to get my shower, but I decided not to take my change of clothes with me. Yes, it was just a little bit naughty of me. Oh, what the hell; it was downright wicked, he had me aroused, and I figured turn-about was fair plan. Besides, I wanted to see how he'd react to my changing in front of him. 




Jinx



Since hotels always have these huge boilers, so there's always plenty of hot water - especially hotels near the beach, where folks are taking extra showers to wash off sand and suntan lotion - I decided on a long and relaxing shower. After all, we still had better than forty-five minutes before we had to leave the room and head for the hotel's restaurant.

Andy's scent was stronger, in this shower, than it had been at home. Maybe the tall glass door helped to keep it trapped in the stall. Whatever the reason, it was making me hot - and I'm not talking the heat that was coming from the faucet! Try as I might, I couldn't get past those naughty thoughts, and I was just about to the point where I was ready to stop trying! Finally, I gave in and sat on the tile bench that was built into the stall, letting my fingers drift down between my thighs and take care of the worst of my arousal. Then, sated for the moment, I cut the water off, and stepped out onto the thick bathmat. Wrapping one of the hotel's overly-large bath towels around me, I went back out into the main area of our room.

Andy was lounging on his bed, watching some program on the television, as I proceeded to cross the room in front of him and dig my clothes out of my bag. I didn't accidentally drop the towel, or anything else that would be blatantly obvious, but I made sure to step into my panties and pull them up well within the range of his peripheral vision, knowing that the towel would creep up and give him at least a quick flash before the panties covered things up. I was rewarded, but tried not to give it away with a smile, when I saw Andy risk a glance. I knew he'd seen something that interested him, because his eyelids went wide, his pupils dilated slightly, his nostrils flared, and his lips unconsciously pursed themselves into a little 'o'!

Next, I slipped into a thigh-length skirt, which got no reaction from him, at all. Of course, he could have been looking away, afraid to stare too much lest I catch him, but I couldn't be certain of either. Finally, it was time to put on my bra. I'd saved that for last, as the BIG tease. I had it all planned out, how to drop the towel and flash my tits at him, briefly, all the while looking like I was trying to wrap the bra around me under the towel and had failed in the attempt. Everything went like clockwork, and I had to turn away from him for a moment, to wipe the smug grin from my face after seeing his jaw drop. By the time I turned back toward him, he was apparently focused on the TV, again, but his face was starting to color nicely and there was a fair-sized tent forming beneath his pair of Dockers!

Bra fully on, I went back to the bag to find a shirt. I found a semi-dressy one that went with the skirt, and put it on.

"How do I look?" I asked him.

"There's a full length mirror, on the closet door," he suggested, pointing.

"Andy, if you're ever going to find yourself a girlfriend, you better get used to the fact that a woman can check her appearance in a mirror a hundred times but, whenever there's a man around, she's going to ask him how she looks."

Andy swallowed hard and struggled to form words, "Oh - um - hm - nice. You look nice." 

"Thanks," I said smiling. "Now, was that so hard?", I asked. Why'd I put just a tad more vocal stress on that last word? I thought to myself. I kept pushing his buttons; I guess I'd really missed the playful banter we'd always exchanged, growing up together.

"You ready?" I asked him. That, too, had been a loaded question, but it was a little more on the subtle side. He'd have to think about it for a moment, to connect the potential 'naughty' meaning with the earlier comments. For some reason that I was only partly aware of, I felt that I had to keep from pushing the envelope too far, with him. To borrow a line from one of my favorite movies, These things must be done delicately, or it ruins the spell!

"Yep; let's go," he nodded. He started to stand, then sat back on the bed, pretending to look for the remote, but I could see the problem. I reached over and grabbed it and turned the TV off.

"Oh, there it is," he said sheepishly.

"Come on," I said, as I pulled his hand helping him from the chair.

We were at the door, when I realized I needed to get that key-card from the wrist-wallet, which I'd left on the counter in the bathroom.

"Be right back, Andy," I said as I disappeared from the bathroom door. My absence wouldn't be long enough for him to do away with his 'problem' completely, but I figured he'd have at least a chance to make a quick adjustment in its position.

"We'll need this," I said waving the key-card at him as I came back into the room. Crossing over to him, I gently shoved it into the left-front pocket of his dress shorts. "I don't have any pockets in this outfit, and I don't want to lug my purse along, just for a stupid key-card. Do you mind?"

I felt pretty naughty as my fingertips barely brushed against the repositioned lump as I let go of the card.

"Not a bit," he shook his head. He was blushing again, but at least there was a cute little grin on his lips.

"Come on, we'll be late," I said, taking his hand and pulling him after me.

True to form, on family outings, we arrived in the lobby before our parents. 

"I guess they're going to be late," Andy said

"As usual," we finished simultaneously, and I jinxed him.

He looked at me, smiling but frustrated, as there was no way other than pantomime for him to ask me what his penalty was.

"The same penalty Dad extracted from Mom, when he jinxed her on the beach," I told him. "And do it nicely!"

Stepping over to me, his face beet-red but still holding a smile, he leaned in and gently brushed his lips against mine. I almost regretted the penalty I'd chosen, because it took me an immense effort to appear 'normal' when I was fighting an electric tingle that started in my brain and rocketed downward to my dampening pussy, shooting a pair of side-discharges at my nipples in the process.

"I think we're eating in the restaurant here. Let's go check," I said, taking him by the hand.

Andy walked over with me to the entrance of the hotel restaurant. 

"Do you have a reservation for the Riley's?" he asked the hostess.

"Yes, right this way," she said. Then she led us to a table for six. "Here, you go. Is it just you and your wife, this evening?" she asked, obviously confused by seating two people when the table was reserved for five.

"No, another couple and their son will be joining us," I told her, before Andy could open his mouth to correct her.

She led us over to a large table, and we took seats.

"Your server will be with you, shortly," she said, and then she strode off toward her hostess station.

When we were alone, Andy asked, "What was that all about? What game are we playing, now?"

"It's not a game," I explained quietly. "She must have seen you kiss me, in the lobby, and that made her think that we were a married couple - " 

"But we're not wearing wedding rings," he objected.

"You're not wearing your class ring, either," I commented. "Why?"

"I took it off in the room and left it in my toilet kit. I don't want to lose it on the beach."

"My point, exactly," I nodded. "Most folks don't wear jewelry on the beach. Did you see that guy, out there, with the metal detector? He's not looking for seashells! He's looking for coins and lost jewelry that he can sell for cash. Even without wedding rings, we could be a married couple, for all the hostess knows. She made a choice - a logical one - on how to address us, and I simply chose not to embarrass her by correcting her when it might be overheard by others."

"I see," he nodded. "But you're fine with embarrassing me?"

I pouted, "You'd be embarrassed, if I was your wife?"

He was stumped; there was no right answer. It was one of those 'no way out' questions, like  "Have you stopped beating your wife, yes or no?" I admit I was being a trifle mean, but a part of me really wondered if he would be embarrassed to have a girl who looked like me, as his wife, or even as his girlfriend.

Finally, he said, "No, actually, I wouldn't. I take it back."

I wasn't expecting that, but it earned him a big hug and a peck on the cheek. Fortunately, for him, the hostess was just then leading Mom, Dad, and Jason over to the table. Also fortunately, for him, I'd forgotten to apply my lipstick before we left the room, so my kiss hadn't left a mark on him.

Once Mom, Dad, and Jason were seated, the hostess produced a stack of menus and handed one to each of us.

"My name is Tess. Your server will be right with you. If there's anything you need, just ask."

The menu was pretty decent, offering a fair variety of choices. There were steak, chicken, and seafood platters of various sorts, with an array of side items. Additionally, there was part of a page offering burger-and-fries type platters sized for children.

"Do I have to get a kid's meal, Mom?" Jason asked in a kind of pleading tone.

"Not tonight or tomorrow, sweetie," Mom told him. 

He lit up, "I want to get what Andy gets."

"How do you know what I'm going to get, little guy?" Andy asked him.

"I love how he looks up to you," I whispered to Andy, behind the cover of my menu.

"You always get popcorn shrimp, any place they have it," Jason said authoritatively. 

"I might change it up, tonight," Andy teased.

Jason thought about that for a while and then looked over the menu himself. We were all a little tired from the long drive and our afternoon of swimming, so the conversation died down a bit as we tried to decide which of the selections looked most appetizing to us. Apparently, while the hotel was fairly new, the staff in the restaurant was well trained. Our server waited until we'd all decided on our meals and put our menus in a stack at one corner of the table, before approaching us. He was very sharply dressed in a grey suit that did little to hide his athletic physique.

"Hi, my name is Will, and I'll be your server tonight," he greeted us. "May I get you started, with some drinks or appetizers?"

Dad ordered some calamari and a basket of onion rings, for the table. We all put in our drink orders and Will told us he'd have them right out.

Will was back with the drinks after only a couple minutes and, after placing them in front of each of us, he took our orders. Mom and Dad both ordered steak-and-shrimp platters, with baked potato and side salads. I got the broiled shrimp and scallops. Andy mixed it up with a trio of fried shrimp, oysters and broiled scallops, and Jason immediately declared that he'd have the same. The little guy had such a bro-crush, it was absolutely adorable.

"You sure you're going to eat those oysters?" Mom asked him.

Jason nodded and smiled broadly. 

It was only a few minutes before the appetizers came out. The calamari was a big hit and disappeared quickly. The onion rings were not a good as we'd expected, but we eventually at them while awaiting the food. As it turned out, a side salad came with each of our meals, but they were quite ordinary, and the dressings lacked the sort of zesty flavor we were used to, back home. We wound up just picking at them.

"Just so you don't feel disappointed," Dad told us quietly, just before our main meals arrived, "I want you to know that tomorrow we have reservations at a different restaurant. It's down the beach a few miles, on a pier out over the water. A couple of my friends told me about it, and said that the food was excellent, and so is the service. According to all the tourist guides, it gets extremely high marks."

Our meals arrived out almost immediately on the heels of Dad's comment, and they were much better than we'd anticipated, based on the quality of the onion-rings and salads. My food was perfect. I couldn't finish it all (I ignored the vegetable and left some of the potato, but ate all the seafood), but it was yummy. Dad, Andy and Jason all consumed everything on their plates. Andy and Jason had even eaten the heap of French fries and hush puppies, and Jason was about to munch on a sprig of parsley when Mom told him that restaurants only put that on plates for decoration. Mom didn't finish her steak, but appeared to enjoy it very much. 

Will had popped by our table, on several occasions, to make certain that we weren't lacking anything, and - when he observed us pushing back our plates, he returned.

"How was everything, tonight?" he asked.

Mom told him honestly, "We all thought the meals were very good. The salads were poor, though, and the onion-rings were mushy or something." 

She was often blunt, like that, and I guess that's where I picked up the trait. 

Dad had Will bill the meal to his room, tipped him in cash. Then we headed back out into the lobby, to turn in for the evening. In the lobby, as we waited for the elevator, we discussed plans for the morning. Everyone except Jason seemed to think that sleeping in was a good idea. Jason, of course, was pushing to get up at the crack of dawn, and hit the surf again. We finally managed to agree that we'd meet up with each other at around noon, down by the pool. Finally, the elevator arrived, and we said goodnight to Mom, Dad, and Jason. As the doors closed, Andy and I turned to walk to our room. As we walked, I took his hand.

"Should we wait up until midnight, to celebrate?" I asked, yawning.

"Nah, it looks like you're as tired as I am," he said.

"Yeah, it has been a long day," I agreed.

Again, Andy played the gentleman and held the door while I entered our room, then locked and bolted it securely behind us. Once inside, I walked to the closet, stripping down to my bra and panties and putting the skirt and blouse on hangers. Across the room, Andy had stripped down and slipped into the pair of boxers he wore as sleep-shorts. I guess we were both so tired, after the long day, that it never occurred to either of us that we were undressing in front of each other for the first time since we were maybe five years old. We even brushed our teeth together, in the bathroom, making foamy-mouthed faces at each other, in the mirror. 

"You can have first dibs on the toilet, Sis," he told me, as we dried our hands.

"Okay by me," I smiled, stepping into the cubby and closing the privacy door. I'd expected him to wait outside, and tried to keep my task as silent as possible, though why I thought the sound of my urine hitting the water in the toilet bowl was somehow embarrassing, I don't know. I was surprised when, after flushing, I opened the door to find the outer portion of the bathroom empty.

Walking out into the main room, I learned the reason why. Andy was standing out on the balcony, staring out over the moonlit ocean and deeply inhaling the salt air.

"Someday, I want to live and work in a place where I can hear the sound of the surf, and smell the ocean breeze, every single day," he commented, turning and smiling across the room at me as he heard my soft footfalls on the carpet.

"I second that emotion, Andy," I told him. "Your turn in the bathroom, by the way."

Thanks, Sis," he nodded, heading in that direction.

I heard the privacy door close, as I slipped into bed and pulled the covers over my body. We'd agreed to let the sliding door open a bit, with just the screen door in place so that we could fall asleep to the lullaby of the surf, and I wasn't sure how chilly the nights here might get. 

I must have fallen asleep even before Andy finished with the bathroom. The next thing I knew, I was awakened by a noise and saw Andy pulling up a pair of beach shorts over his naked body. 

"Morning," I called to him.

"Morning, Annie," he replied, smiling.

"What time is it?" I asked, yawning and stretching.

"About seven," he answered.

I sat up and looked to the nightstand between our beds, reaching for my cell phone. I thumbed the 'Home' button to wake it up, and saw that the time was 6:45. As I returned the phone to the table, I saw a Styrofoam cup sitting at the corner closest to me.

"Coffee?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he smiled. "I hope I got the cream and sugar right."

I picked up the cup, sniffed the fragrant steam rolling off the top, and took a small sip.

"Just about perfect, Andy," I smiled at him. "You're a sweetheart!"

"No big thing," he shrugged. "I just remember how hard it is for you to wake up without a cup of coffee handy. Yesterday morning must've been a rare exception."

"That it was," I agreed. "I had an adrenaline surge, from being excited about the trip! What are you up to?"

"I was about to go for a run on the beach," he said, as he pulled a fresh tank top over his head. "You wanna come with?"

"Yeah, that sounds perfect. What's the weather like, out there?"

"Very sunny," he said optimistically.

"Smart ass!" I chuckled. "It's always sunny, in Florida!"

"I thought that was Philadelphia," Andy quipped, referring to one of his favorite TV shows. "But you know, they do get hurricanes here."

"Too early in the year," I shook my head. "Hurricane season doesn't start until June."

I picked up my phone again, woke it, and touched the little 'cloud' icon, bringing up the local weather.

"Seventy degrees, outside," I told him. "Perfect temperature for a morning run. Do me a favor and toss me my swimsuit? I hung it over one of the chairs on the balcony, to air-dry."

"Get it, yourself," he laughed.

"Not dressed like this, I'm not!" I informed him. "You're lucky I let you see me in bra and panties!"

"And you'd look different, how, in a two-piece bathing suit?" he laughed, turning to the curtains and drawing them open. The grey light of early morning flooded our room as he slid the screen door aside and stepped out onto the balcony. A second or so later, my swimsuit came flying across the room at me.

"Here you go, Sis," he said.

"Thanks," I told him.

Plucking my suit off the bed where it had landed, I slid my legs over the edge and stood up. Taking my coffee, I headed for the bathroom, grabbing a pair of gym shorts out of my suitcase as I passed it. That swimsuit was okay, on its own, in the water, but there was no way I was going to go running without a pair of shorts to help camouflage my pasty white butt-cheeks! It only took me about ten minutes to change and run a wet washcloth over my face. I'd gotten more sun than I'd expected, in our few hours on the beach, the previous afternoon, and my pale complexion was already showing a nice flush of color. Running a brush through my hair a few times, to straighten it out after sleeping, I gathered it into a ponytail and bound it with a white scrunchy. I took an extra minute or so to give my lips a coat of Pink Sugar lip balm. Then, grabbing my wrist wallet, I headed back to the main room.

"That was quick!" Andy said, as I walked over to the nightstand to grab my key-card.

"Really?" I grinned at him, stuffing my card into the wrist-wallet. I took a couple more long swallows of coffee, perched my Oakleys on the top of my head, and looked over at him. "I'm ready whenever you are."

"Great! Let's go!"

Of course, we still had to wait for the elevator, but the hallway was deserted except for the two of us.

"You're up early, for a guy who suggested sleeping in, this morning," I commented as we waited for the cage to arrive from several floors above us. "How did that happen?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, giving me a wry grin. "I just couldn't sleep any longer. I woke up, and I could hear the waves and see some light coming in under the curtains at the sliding door. I just wanted to get outside." 

Here was that excited little boy I used to know, who never wanted to miss out on any opportunity. It had been a long while since I'd seen that side of him, and it hit me, then, just how much I'd missed that, in him - in fact, how much I'd missed him, period.




Jinx



The cage finally arrived, empty, and we took it one floor down. I finished my coffee while we made the short trip and deposited the empty cup in a trashcan as we crossed the pool area. I walked along the path toward the beach, side by side with Andy, drawing in the morning sea air and feeling wonderfully revved up and overjoyed to be alive on such a fine morning.

The sun was just creeping above the eastern horizon as we walked out onto the beach. We stood there, watching it for a few moments, and I felt Andy gently slip his arm around my waist.

"Look out there," he said, pointing with his right hand. "See the dolphins?"

I tried to sight along his outstretched right arm. It took me a moment, but then I caught the shapes of a pod of dolphins, gamboling in the waves a couple hundred yards off the beach.

"They're so close in," I wondered aloud. "I wonder what would happen, if we tried to swim out to them?"

"We'd probably get arrested," Andy snorted. "It's against the law to get within something like fifty feet of them, in the wild. They're a protected species."

"My roommate told he that, when she was down here a few years ago, her family took their boat out to do some fishing, and some dolphins came up to within about fifteen feet of the boat."

"The dolphins must get a free pass," he shrugged. "Maybe ignorance of the law IS an excuse, for them."

"Oh, well," I sighed. "Let's get warmed up and go for that run."

We did some stretching exercises to warm up and limber up our legs for the run. I confess that I wasn't really up on that sort of thing. Swimming is my sport, and that requires a different type of stretches, so I was basically copying Andy's moves. I wasn't much of a runner, but I wouldn't have passed up any chance to be with him on our birthday - not even for the world.

"Hey, uh - Happy Birthday, Andy!"

"Happy Birthday, Annie! I almost forgot."

I knew he hadn't forgotten; that was just his method for deflecting attention from the fact that he hadn't been the first one to express the wish. I smiled and let it ride, then reached up and slipped my arms around his neck, pulling his face down closer to my level, so that I could plant a big wet smooch on his cheek. In turn, he kissed me on the forehead. As we each drew back a pace, I noticed that the lump in his spandex had grown a bit. I saw him follow the line of my gaze, but - strangely - he didn't blush. I figured that my little talk with him, in the ocean the previous afternoon, must have finally sunk in.

"Let's jog a bit," he said, and I guessed that he probably wanted to settle himself.

We jogged down the beach for a couple miles, then turned and headed back. Our hotel was an easy landmark to keep track of, so there was no way we could get lost. I lagged a couple paces behind him, for the first half-mile, or so. Like I said, I'm not much of a runner, and he was clearly in much better shape than I was, for that sort of thing. Lagging behind had its compensations, though. I couldn't help but enjoy the view I was having, of his firm body and tight buttocks, and the outline of his package as he periodically turned around to make sure I was keeping up. After the first half-mile, though, he slowed his pace so that we were jogging side by side. I enjoyed that view of him even more.

I did notice one thing, about running. It wasn't visible under the gym shorts, but the movement had the crotch of my swimsuit creeping up into my vulva, providing a most delightful friction that was making me extremely horny.

 "I might have to rethink this whole jogging thing," I thought to myself, smiling. I was a little tired by the time we got close to our return point, and I could definitely feel the 'burn' in my legs, but the feeling between my legs was very enjoyable. I didn't realize just how enjoyable it had been, until we finally got back to the pool area and I noticed that the growing moisture between my legs had soaked through the fabric of my swimsuit and was now visible as a darker patch in the crotch of my light gray gym shorts. 

I wondered if Andy had noticed, and glanced at his groin, taking note of the prominent lump, there. He caught me looking, but I was pretty certain that he'd seen the evidence of my own arousal, already, from the grin he was wearing as he looked at me. I doffed the shorts, quickly, and stepped under one of the poolside showerheads to rinse off the sweat I'd worked up. And, yes, I was blushing noticeably, the entire time. 

Andy smirked a little, as he watched me glide my hands over my arms and shoulders, and down my legs, to wipe at the sweat, but he didn't say a word. How could he, since he was sporting a bit of wood, too? He stepped under the showerhead next to mine, to calm things down for himself. 

"You up for a morning swim?" I asked him, as the idea struck me.

"Pool or ocean?" he asked, in return.

"Ocean, of course!" I grinned.

"Lead the way, Sis," he nodded.

"Uh-uh," I shook my head as I extended my left hand to him. "Together."

Wordlessly, he took my hand in his. We climbed back over the dune on the board-paved walkway and walked across the beach to the ocean. We waded in slowly, both of us surprised at how warm the water was, this early in the day. We waded a little farther out, until we were in chest-deep water, and came to a stop, letting ourselves float.

The morning had a somewhat surreal feeling to it. The beach had been just about deserted, when we took our jog - we'd only seen two people sweeping the sand with metal detectors, hoping to come upon some valuable bauble lost by an unfortunate swimmer or surfer - and it was still that way. Just at the edge of my vision, looking northward, there was a man and a young boy - perhaps Jason's age - just getting a kite aloft in the light onshore breeze. Looking southward, I couldn't see a soul. It was almost as though Andy and I had the beach, and the ocean, all to ourselves for this moment in time, and it seemed somehow very right.

Being there, in the water with Andy, was a real treat. We floated close together, our bodies touching numerous times. We weren't groping, but we weren't avoiding the intermittent contact, either. Judging by the feel of things, whenever my thigh or hip happened to brush against him, Andy was in a nearly constant state of full erection. My own level of arousal matched his and, at one point, I had the fleeting thought of how interesting it might be to make love, bobbing in the surf like we were, letting the 'motion of the ocean' take us where it would.

I noticed Andy's head constantly moving, his eyes surveying the water around us.

"Looking for something?" I chided him. "I'm over here!"

"Sorry," he blushed. "I've kinda been keeping an eye out for sharks. There are no lifeguards out, yet, to watch for them."

"We're safe, right now," I told him, pointing farther out to sea. "The dolphins are still playing and feeding, out there. There's a natural enmity between sharks and dolphins, and sharks won't come near a pod that size."

"I didn't know that," he replied, raising one eyebrow at me.

"They probably don't teach stuff like that, in business courses," I chuckled.

"Yeah, that's true," he nodded.

I turned around, to look back at the beach and the string of hotels that stood like sentinels against the morning sky. People were starting to appear on the beach in fair numbers, now that the sun was out in full blaze. My stomach was beginning to growl a little, as well. I glanced at my watch, a cheap waterproof Timex diver's model that I'd purchased in preparation for this trip, and noticed the time.

"It's 8:30," I commented to Andy. "You getting hungry, yet?"

"I've been hungry, Annie," he laughed. "That jog really worked up my appetite."

"Well, why didn't you say something, silly?" I asked him.

"A couple things, actually," he said, blushing slightly.

"Fess up," I prodded him.

"Well, spending this time with you, having the beach and the ocean almost all to ourselves, felt... well, kinda special, and I didn't want to ruin the moment..."

"That's really sweet of you, to say that," I murmured. "And the other reason?"

"Well, I'm kinda not in any condition to get out of the water, just now."

"If you're referring to that bulge in your trunks, don't sweat it," I chuckled, tossing him a naughty wink. "Unless Jason managed to pry Mom and Dad out of the sack, already - which is very doubtful - there isn't a soul on that beach that knows we're brother and sister. For all they know, we're a couple here on our honeymoon, and we've been out for an early swim, and now you're taking me back to our suite to ravage my body passionately! Most of the guys who bother to look will be jealous of you, because of the size of that lump and the pretty girl you're with, and the women who chance to see you will be jealous of me, and drooling over the bulge. Let's go get breakfast!"

A good part of what I said - at least the part about what other folks on the beach might think - was pretty much the truth. As for the rest of it, if it planted any ideas in his head, about me, so much the better. By this time, I was over the line as far as my thoughts about Andy were concerned, and I was hoping to shift his thoughts to the point where they matched mine.

We waded out of the surf, hand in hand, and strode calmly across the beach to the boardwalk leading to our hotel. We stopped for poolside showers, again, and Andy grabbed a pair of those big fluffy towels from the bin and tossed one to me. We dried off, tossed the towels into the used-towel bin, and headed for the elevator. We got off on our floor, but turned the other direction, looking for the continental breakfast that the hotel brochures in our room had advertised. 

We found it easily enough, in a room off the main hall near the lobby, and I quickly grabbed a banana. I figured that the natural sugars would do well to give me some energy, while the high potassium content would work to stave off any cramping of my legs from the morning's exertions. I was already munching a bit of it, by the time Andy settled on a bagel with cream cheese and some yogurt. We took our food and headed back toward our room. Since the hallway was fairly deserted, and I'd caught Andy glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, I risked doing the old 'girl eating banana' trick that guys make such a big deal out of. It must have had the desired affect, because I heard him clear his throat after almost choking on a bite of bagel.

At the door to our room, I used my key-card, but it was Andy who palmed the door-handle and then held it open while I entered first. Man, I was really beginning to appreciate that gentlemanly side of him. I couldn't have told you the last time any of my boyfriends or dates had bothered holding a door for me!

Inside the room, he told me, "You get to shower first today."

"Thanks, Andy," I told him. "I appreciate it."

"And don't use all the hot water!" he called out after me, chuckling.

"Thanks, 'Dad'," I laughed. "This is a hotel. They have water heaters the size of our entire house. I can't run us out of hot water!"

I finished off the banana, grabbed the rest of my toilet kit, and headed for the bathroom. While we were out, housekeeping had tidied up, made the beds, replaced the used towels, and placed a crop of fresh soap, shampoos, and conditioners on the counter between the sinks. The hotel stuff wasn't all that bad but, when a woman wants to look her best, she wants her own shampoo, conditioner, and things.

I picked a sink and laid the contents of my toilet kit out on the counter in a neat arrangement and then turned on the shower, running the temperature dial up to a nice, hot setting. Stepping into the roomy stall, I washed quickly, rinsed, and then let myself spend some 'special time' taking care of the lust I'd built up over the morning hours. I was beyond caring, at this point, and I freed my mind to go to all those places I'd been trying to avoid since setting out on this trip. I closed my eyes, building the image as clearly as I could: Andy, stepping into the shower with me, putting a gentle fingertip under my chin to lift my face to his. Andy, lowering his lips to mine, for a soul consuming kiss. Those were Andy's hands, not my own, stroking my breasts and gently rolling my nipples between his thumbs and index fingertips. Andy's hand, drifting leisurely down my abdomen, gliding across my freshly-waxed mons, gently stroking my inflamed clit. Andy's cock, pressing deep into me, as I worked my fingers madly inside my slickened pussy. I guess I must have moaned aloud when I came. I don't really recall doing so, but I was so caught up in my fantasy that I wasn't fully aware of my surroundings at that point, even when I thought I heard Andy tapping on the door.

When I didn't respond, he rapped again, and then cracked the door open a tiny bit.

"Are you okay, Annie?" he called to me.

My hand was still working me gently, trying to keep the trailing edge of my orgasm purring, when I realized that - if I could see his face in the partly open doorway - then he could see a reflection of me, in the mirror, and the shower stall's outer wall and door were clear glass.

"Oops!" I exclaimed, quickly turning my back to the mirror - not that his seeing my naked ass was any better than his seeing my full frontal nudity.

"Oh, god, Annie! I'm so sorry!" he gulped, and quickly closed the door.

Now, I'd done it! I didn't know what to do. Part of me wanted to go out and grab him, rip his clothes off, and drag him into the shower to do to me for real what he'd been doing in my fantasy. The other part wanted to hide in a corner. I decided to try and pretend that the incident hadn't happened, for now. I got out, dried off, and wrapped the towel around me, as I had the day before.

Walking out into the main room, I smiled at Andy and said, "Your turn."

"Thanks, Annie," he said. He'd already put his shower stuff in a pile, and he grabbed it and disappeared into the bathroom.

"And we hope you enjoyed the show," I murmured quietly, as he closed the bathroom door.

Now that I had the main room all to myself, I dropped the towel on the bed, stretched, and dug into my suitcase for a fresh, dry swimsuit and a beach dress. I slipped into the swimsuit, an emerald green one piece that went very well with my blonde hair, and checked my reflection in the mirrored closet door. I looked good in the suit, even if I did say so, myself. Over top of the suit, I draped the beach dress, which covered my shoulders and dropped to just above my knees. Now all I had to do was wait until Andy was done in the bathroom so that I could get back in there and tend to my hair and makeup.

Speaking of Andy, I hadn't exactly kept a watch on how long I'd spent in the shower, but he'd taken at least as long as me, by now, if not longer. I wondered, more than briefly, if he'd been taking care of an issue similar to the one that had plagued me, earlier. Just thinking about him, standing under the spray of hot water, stroking his big cock with a slick, soapy hand, had me feeling randy, again. Try as I might (and, if I have to be honest, I probably wasn't trying all that hard) I couldn't get the image of him, pulling on those black spandex shorts that morning, out of my head. I'd wound up being just a couple seconds short of seeing him without them, which fact frustrated me more than a little, given what he'd now seen, of me. He'd been aroused for a significant portion of the time we'd been together, that morning, and I was pretty sure that I was the proximate cause of his arousal.

I was seated in one of the upholstered chairs in the room, with my eyes closed, still thinking about how big he'd felt while we were in the water, when Andy came back into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. He was no longer sporting any wood, so I assumed that my suspicions about his shower activities were confirmed. I peeked out of my still-mostly-closed eyes, to see if I could catch him as he changed, but he had his back toward me. All I got to see were his nice buns. He dressed, then, as I had: dry trunks, first, under a pair of cargo shorts and a tee shirt.

"Want to go sit by the pool until Mom, Dad and Jason get down?" he asked me.

My eyes popped open, "Yeah, we can do that or you could tell me what you're thinking."

His eyes searched mine. "I'm thinking what a nice birthday it's been so far. It could only get better."

He wasn't taking my bait. I wondered if he was feeling anything like I was. It felt to awkward to push further, so I said, "Okay, let's go sit by the pool."

I guess that Jason must have dragged Mom and Dad out of bed earlier than they had planned because, when Andy and I stepped out onto the pool deck, we spotted the three of them seated around a square table with an umbrella above it, eating a light brunch.

"Hey, you two! Happy Birthday!" Mom and Dad greeted us, one slightly after the other.

"Thanks," we both said in unison. After a second, I glanced over at Andy, who - in turn - was glancing at me. For some unknown reason, neither of us had taken the opportunity to jinx the other. Maybe we'd each subconsciously decided that our shared birthday should be a holiday from jinxes.

"You want something to eat?" Dad asked.

"Nah," Andy waved off the offer. "We got up early, went for a run and then a swim to cool off, and then caught a light continental breakfast, so we're good. You three sleep well?

"Yesterday afternoon was a good workout, and left us a bit tired," Mom smiled. "We were out like light bulbs, the minute our heads hit the pillows. How about you two?"

"Pretty much the same, Mom," I chuckled. I don't even remember my head hitting the pillow! Next thing I knew, Andy was waking me up to ask me if I wanted to go for a run with him. The sun was just coming up, but it was so gorgeous out that I couldn't resist."

"Well, I don't think we could have asked for better weather," Mom said.

"I thought you told me that you put in an order for it, dear," Dad chided her.

We all agreed that the weather - and the local extended forecast, according to Dad and Jason - was for nearly picture perfect days for the rest of our stay. Andy and I sat with them as they finished eating, and we planned out the rest of our day. We would relax, play, and swim until 3:00, and then head back to our rooms to get ready for dinner. Dad had made reservations at the restaurant for 4:30, at which time we'd celebrate our birthdays officially.

We didn't have to look for a place to set up our base camp for the day. Dad had reserved one of those 12-foot by 12-foot 'quick-shelter' canopies for the day, and someone from the hotel staff had already been down there and set it up on prime beach real estate, tagging it with a 'Reserved for Riley' tag. We laid out the sheet, to start setting up, and then a beach-buggy-type vehicle pulled up with some plastic and canvas beach lounge chairs on it - apparently part of reserving a cabana. Wow! 

Andy and Jason wandered a few yards away, to toss a Frisbee, and I pulled one of the lounges out into the sun to tan for a while. I placed the lounge so that I could watch my brothers out of the corner of my eye without appearing to actually be watching them. I watched them playing with butterflies in my belly the entire time. I couldn't have said where the anticipation was coming from, but it was getting the better of me. Eventually, I gave up trying to quell it, since it refused to be stifled and waded out into the water. Jason showed up within a few minutes, with his boogie board.

"Will you watch me, Annie?" he asked. "Dad said I needed you or Andy nearby."

"Sure thing," I told him. "Where's Andy?"

"He said he had to go use the bathroom," Jason explained, "but I want to ride waves, and..."




Jinx



"No problem," I told him. "I'll watch you until Andy gets back and is ready to take over. You're really enjoying getting to hang out with Andy, aren't you?"

"He's the best big brother."

"Yeah, yeah he is, isn't he?" I said, my thoughts wandering. Andy came out into the world a whole five minutes before I did, which technically made him MY big brother, too. And what I'd been seeing and feeling, under his spandex shorts the last day or so had me looking at the term, 'big brother' in a whole new light.

I'd been keeping an eye on Jason for about a half-hour, when Andy came out to join us. I'd guessed maybe he was avoiding me, again, but he stayed close to me and we chatted lazily as we took turns being spotters for Jason. The waves were not nearly so rough as the previous afternoon, so our lookout duty was much less tense. Mom and Dad came out, after a while, to give Andy and me a break. We swam out to deeper water, continuing our chat and generally taking it easy. 

Eventually, Jason caught a wave big enough to carry him all the way to the beach. Mom and Dad, no doubt a bit tired from bobbing up and down in the surf, followed him in and conned him into building a sand castle. Andy and I stayed out in the water.

"Were you avoiding talking to me, Andy?" 

"No way!" he shook his head. "Whatever gave you that idea, Annie? I'm enjoying being with you. I've really missed it over the past few years!"

"Me too," I said, unable to resist giving him another hug. I jumped up and wrapped my legs around him in the water and my arms around his neck. "Happy Birthday," I whispered to him.

"You already told me that," he smiled.

"Yeah, just not with a proper, full body hug, like this, though," I said, as I squeezed him tight.

I was about to give him a big sloppy kiss on the mouth when he said, "Mom and Dad are waving us in."

My disappointment might have been clear, but I was trying to conceal it. "Okay, must be party time!" I exclaimed.

"Climb on my back, Sis!" he suggested.

"Why? What are we doing?" I asked.

"Gotta take that one last ride..." he sang - I think the line came from an old surf tune - and we stood there, me clinging to his back, while he turned sideways to check out the next set of incoming waves. He passed up two, but the third one was really building up to a high crest.

"This is it," he told me. "Hands on my shoulders, and leave my legs free. Just stretch out along my back."

I did as he said, and suddenly he turned toward the beach and pushed off with his feet. The wave caught us just right, and Andy held his body completely rigid (I still haven't figured out how he ever managed that!) and I rode him like a boogie board all the way to the shallows.

"Wow!" I exclaimed, as we tumbled in the knee-deep mix-up of incoming and outgoing water. "That was cool!"

"I'm glad to hear that," Andy chuckled. "For a moment, I thought I'd scared you."

"No way, Andy!" I laughed. "I trust you to never put me in a position where I could get hurt."

"So, if I invite you to try it again, from farther out, tomorrow?"

"You're on, big brother!" I nodded. "I'll go for a ride on you, anytime!"

He looked at me, his mouth moving wordlessly for a moment, blushed lightly, and smiled, his eyes expressing volumes. I didn't care whether he took that the right way or the naughty way. It didn't matter. I'd chosen my words so that, either way, he'd be correct.

We jogged across the beach to the cabana, helped pick up and pack up all our things, and then headed back to the hotel. I took the first shower, again at Andy's insistence. I guess that we'd both worked out our 'tension' that morning, because we both took much shorter showers, this time around. I dressed while Andy was in the shower, slipping into a pair of my nicest tan shorts and a pale blue blouse. As it turned out, Andy had also packed a pair of smart tan cargo shorts and a pale blue short-sleeved shirt, so we wound up actually dressed like twins for the first time since our high school graduation had us in the same color caps and gowns.

We met up with Mom, Dad, and Jason down in the lobby. They were all dressed as nicely as Andy and I were. Taking the elevator one more floor down, we piled into the minivan (with all the luggage now in Mom and Dad's room, there was plenty of room for the five of us) and headed for the restaurant.

It's a shame for me to say it, but my twenty-first birthday dinner was a blur, to me. I don't even remember what I ate. Oh, it was good; I do remember thinking that it was good, but it was like I wasn't completely there. All I could think about was Andy. I was in an Andy obsession spiral, trying to work through these feelings that I simply couldn't shake.

Towards the end of the meal Mom took notice. She felt my head like when I'd been small and asked me, "Are you okay sweetie?"

"I'm fine. I guess I'm feeling a little anticlimactic. Sorry, I know that sounded bad."

"I remember the feeling, dear," she chuckled, trying to lighten my mood. "Some birthdays are like that. I hope you're enjoying this beach vacation, though."

"Oh, I really am, and I really appreciate you and Dad doing this for us." I told her enthusiastically, coming out of my stupor. I'd love to do this every year. I love the beach. In fact, I'd like to live near a beach like this, someday." 

I don't know where the conversation would have led, next, because - at that moment - the entire wait staff assembled at our table. Our server was carrying a small chocolate cake with 'Ann and Andy' written on it in white frosting. It also held two of those 'numeral' candles, a 2 and a 1. Placing it midway between Andy and me, on the table, he stepped back into line and the whole group launched into one of those clapping-type 'happy birthday' songs typical at many chain restaurants. When they'd finished their little performance, Andy and I blew out the candles together. The group cheered, offered us another 'happy birthday' wish in a cacophony of individual voices, and then returned to their regular duties.

The cake - I think it was called 'Death by Chocolate', or some such silly name - was a specialty menu item at the restaurant, and it really was divine. Mom swore she was gaining another pound with each and every forkful of her slice. Dad and Jason were simply happy to be eating such a rich chocolate cake, since chocolate was their favorite flavor, too. All in all, it hadn't been a bad birthday, even with my odd mood.

We finally loaded ourselves back into the minivan around 7:45. I hadn't realized, until then, that we'd been at the restaurant that long! Mom, Dad, and Jason chattered on and on about the restaurant and the meal, the entire drive back to our hotel. Of course, ten minutes wasn't really that long a time. We were lucky, and found a close-in parking spot at the hotel, and only had a short walk to the elevator. Even though I couldn't remember what I ate, I felt as stuffed as Mom and Dad complained they were feeling.

"Are you ready to pack it in, for the night, Andy?" I asked him, "or do you want to make a later night of it? I still owe you that beer, now that we're twenty-one."

"That sounds like a nice idea," he nodded. "I don't want to get drunk, but I'd like to have a couple beers, as a legitimate adult.

For the last three years, Andy had complained about being a second-class adult. At eighteen, we'd been old enough to get married and have kids without a permission slip from our parents, vote in an election, get a credit card, go off and fight in a war - any number of things - but we couldn't buy a simple beer! I pretty much agreed with him, but I really didn't want to hear the rant, at the moment.

"Is that okay with y'all," I asked Mom and Dad.

"I don't want y'all driving," Mom said, naturally concerned.

"We're planning on walking, Mom," I smiled. "After that meal, I think Andy and I could both use the exercise to work some of it off. There are several bars along the beach, within walking distance of the hotel. I don't think we will, but - if we get too far - we'll call a cab."

"They're adults, now, hon," Dad said, touching Mom lightly on her shoulder. "Gotta let 'em go, sometime, you know."

"Okay; you two be safe," Mom relented, more easily than I thought she would.

I'd hoped to get lucky and head off any argument, but I'd been prepared to play the,  'We're adults' card, if it had come down to that. Luckily, they had both loosened up over the years, and Dad had played the card for me. We waited until the elevator doors had closed on them, and then Andy and I were on our way.

We walked along the beach, since it would be safer and it was a beautiful night out. Andy took my hand, which kind of caught me by surprise. I'd felt like he'd been kind of avoiding me since the incident in the bathroom, and this sudden change in him felt really nice. His hand was strong but gentle, and its touch sent a tingle through me.

"This is a pretty nice night for our birthday," Andy said as we walked along. "This has been a great trip, so far. I'm really glad we came." 

"Yeah, me too," I said, stopping to look at the nearly full moon coming up over the ocean. "It's so nice here. I wish we could live here," I said absently. Andy didn't reply, but stood beside me looking out at the waves crashing under the moonlight. He squeezed my hand and gave me a light kiss on my forehead. 

"Let's see if we can find a quiet bar to buy that beer," he suggested, pulling me down the beach with him.

We passed up a few of the rowdier bars, and eventually found a cute little beachfront bistro where the atmosphere was a good bit more laid back. Andy pointed to a quiet table for two, off to one side of the room, and actually held my chair while I sat down. When I ordered Andy his first beer, the waitress double-checked our IDs.

"It's our birthday," I told her, giggling. "We're here for our first legal drink." 

"Twins?" she asked, looking back and forth between Andy and me, and our driver's licenses, and I nodded a brief 'Yes'. "Well, Happy Birthday! You picked a nice place to come, for your first drink! I'll see if the bartender will let you have this first one on the house. Do you know what you'd like?"

I looked over at Andy. "Got any suggestions?" I asked.

"My college roomie suggested that I give Full Sail pale ale a try," he said. 

I nodded to him in agreement, and turned to the waitress. "Do you carry that?"

"Yes, we do! That's an excellent choice, especially for a 'first drink'."

"Two, please, then," I told her.

"I'll be right back with your drinks," she nodded.

She walked away, stopping briefly at another table to take an order. Andy looked as though he wanted to say something but, even in this laid-back place, there was still just a little too much noise, and it was a little too crowded for us to have a private conversation. So we spent the next couple minutes looking around the bistro, seeing what we'd been missing for the last few years. Before long, our waitress returned with two tall frosted mugs filled with a light amber liquid.

"Two 'Full Sail' pale ales, on the house with the bartender's compliments," she smiled. "Once again, Happy Birthday. Where're y'all from?"

"Atlanta," Andy told her. 

"Y'all down here for spring break?"

"Sort of," I answered. "Actually, it's a family vacation trip, along with celebrating our big birthday."

"Well, y'all have fun - and don't overdo things, just because y'all are legal, now, hear?"

She walked away, but came back a minute later with a basket of warm tortilla chips and a tray with a couple shallow bowls of salsa and one of guacamole.

"Yellow is mild, red is muy caliente," she smiled.

"Excuse me," I said. "I saw the chips and salsa listed on your menu as an appetizer, for five dollars. We didn't order that."

"Listen, hon," the waitress smiled. "You two just turned twenty-one, and you're here for your first drink. I don't know how many you plan on having, but I'm not letting you do your first drinking without a little 'blotting paper' to soak it up and keep you from getting drunk or sick. This one's on me. Happy Birthday!"

"Thanks," we both said, in unison.

I thought about it for an intolerable fraction of a second but, when Andy didn't say anything, I said, "Jinx!"

He stared at me and, even in the bistro's dim lighting, I could see the Are you serious? look he was giving me. He remained silent, but took a big swig of his ale. Then he mimed how yummy it was by rubbing his tummy. He followed up by silently begging me, with folded hands, to relent. He was so adorable. 

"Oh, all right. Hmm; what should your ransom be?" I wondered aloud. After a moment, I smiled. "I know, how about you give me a back rub tonight?" 

His face lit up with this huge smile, and he vigorously nodded his submission.

I sealed the deal with our customary release, "Deal, Andy."

Andy began to say something over the din of the chatter. Then he stopped and motioned that he wanted us to move outside on the deck, where it might be quieter. I followed him out into the cool March night air.

He led the way to a table at the corner of the deck, and held out a chair for me. I felt another pang of guilt, then. Even though I'd pulled a jinx on him when he'd least expected it, he was still being the ultimate gentleman. I let him seat me, and then he took a chair himself. It was his turn to say something, and I waited. We wound up sitting there for several minutes, munching chips and salsa and sipping at our ales, while Andy figured out what he wanted to say and how to say it. Finally, he looked up at me and spoke.

"Jeez, Annie! I haven't pulled a single jinx on you, today, because it's our birthday. I only picked on the folks, and on Jason. I didn't realize that I needed to be on guard against you, tonight," he said - and though I knew he was serious, there was still a playful tone in his voice. "Can we call a truce, at least for the rest of our birthday?"

I was feeling more than a little guilty, by that time. It was our birthday. The 'special dispensation' of a truce in the 'jinx war' should have been a given, not something to be debated or asked for. 

"Maybe I should relinquish my ransom?" I offered.

"Oh, I'm happy to pay, Annie," he laughed. "You could have just asked me, though; I'd give you a back rub, anytime. I just wanted to have some twin-time. Seeing you these past few days has made me realize how much I miss being around you."

I'd wanted that twin-time, too. In fact, I'd craved that, and more. I thought about it as I took a big gulp of my ale. 

"You were right," I told him, holding up my mug. "This isn't bad. So, what'd you want to talk about?" 

He looked at the tabletop for a long time. It was weird; he'd clearly wanted to talk about something, but now he'd clammed up. I could see, from the play of expressions on his face, that some type of internal battle was going on within him. The silence grew uncomfortably long.

"Andy, is everything okay?"

"I um - I haven't. I mean, I'm still -" 

At that moment there was one of those lulls that happens from time to time. Everyone was talking and making noise one minute, the next it was almost dead silent. I guess the silence had put him off of whatever he was trying to say. He stopped talking, turned, and looked out at the ocean.

"Hey, we can talk back at the hotel room," I offered.

"That's an idea," he nodded. Then he lifted his mug to his lips and downed the remainder of its contents in one long series of gulps. Our waitress conveniently stepped out onto the deck at that moment and looked at us with a typical You folks need anything? expression on her face.

"We'll take two more of these," he instructed, holding up his mug.

She nodded, and disappeared back inside the bistro.

"Slow down, dude," I suggested to Andy in a quiet voice. "I didn't think you wanted to get drunk."

"I don't," he shook his head, chuckling. "But it's only our birthday for another five minutes. Our first drink was on the house. I can't let you get out of your offer to buy the first round on our birthday that easily!"

"Brat!" I chided him, laughing loudly. Wondering where the time had gone, I downed the rest of my ale, as well. When the waitress returned with two more full mugs, I handed her a ten.

"Keep the change, if there is any," I instructed her. Then I turned to my brother. "The next round is on you, Andy - whether it's tonight or tomorrow!"

"Deal, Annie," he grinned.

I spent the next few moments studying my brother. I was a little worried, about him. His steely blue eyes were slightly glazed over, as he gazed out over the ocean. The moon had risen somewhat, now, and was casting more light into his eyes. His long hair was hanging forward, hiding some of his face, and I had a sudden urge to push it back so that I could see him better. He took a swallow from his new mug. He wasn't slamming this one back, so I started to relax about him tying one on tonight. 

"Hey, you can talk to me. We've always been able to talk about anything." Unable to resist the urge, I finally leaned across the table and pushed his hair back behind his ear to see his face better.

He turned to look at me and there were tears forming in his eyes. "I'm twenty-one, Annie. I'm still a -"

"Virgin," we said in unison.

I could see the shock in his face. What he didn't know was that we both were. I took his hand, looking him directly in the eye. 

"Andy - I am too," I admitted, blushing furiously. "Jinx, by the way," I added. I was almost regretting it the moment I'd heard it coming out of my mouth.

I'd expected Andy to be upset, but he smiled at me. "Thanks," he said.

"Oh - no - that's double jinx!" I laughed. I knew he'd been thanking me for my honesty; I just couldn't resist playing the game. Then I heard myself telling him, "You're going to have a pretty high ransom."

"I thought we had a truce," he said sadly.

"Um - Andy - our birthday ended five minutes ago. Triple jinx. How are you ever going to pay this ransom?" I couldn't believe I was pushing this so far, especially with the delicate nature of our conversation, and of our mutual admissions.

He stared at me silently. There was something there in his eyes, and I read it as a silent plea. I was pretty sure I knew what it was. Suddenly, I found myself slightly confused. I hoped I wasn't projecting my own previous obsessive thoughts onto him. Time lost meaning as we stared into one another's eyes. I knew that my love for him was visible, unmasked, on my face. The love I saw being returned made me tingle to my core. I hoped he was seeing my silent answer to his ache.

Convinced that we were in wordless agreement, I stood and took his hand. I tugged at him enticingly, encouraging him to leave the bar. He stood, shakily, to follow me down the short set of steps from the deck, and we stepped onto the beach, leaving our unfinished mugs of ale on the table. We walked hand in hand, silently, on the beach. Only the sound of softly crashing waves touched our ears. I wasn't rushing him along, but I was methodically heading us back toward our hotel. 

As we walked along, I paused, periodically, to take both of his hands, urgently searching his facial expression to ensure that our wordless agreement was still in place. During each of these interludes, I could feel Andy's eyes roaming over me, devouring every detail of my figure as it was revealed by the moonlight. I wondered if - hoped that - he was feeling what I felt, as I slowly led him along. The sneer intensity of what I was feeling in those moments belied the utter silence of our trek. If he was at all uncertain in his agreement, there was no indication of as he held my hand tenderly throughout our walk.

Inside the hotel, though, he seemed a little hesitant, a little less sure. I gently tugged him along, turning to let him see my soft, loving smile every few seconds. At the door to our room, I slid the key-card into the lock and pulled out quickly, my other hand on the lever that worked the latch. The door unlocked, and I slipped inside. He was still holding my hand, but was standing on the hall side of the threshold. I winked at him, and whispered the words to him as I pulled him gently to me.




Jinx



"Deal, Andy, Andy, Andy."

"What was the ransom?" he asked quizzically, although I think he knew.

We were in the room, now, the door closing softly with a click, behind us. I took two steps further, pulling him on into the hallway, and took him into my arms, pulling my own body tightly against his.

"You asked me so nicely, with your eyes," I told him softly, looking up into those steely blue orbs, "How could I possibly say no?"

Andy was trembling, as we embraced. "I - I uh - Annie, I don't know -"

"Shush, Andy." I said, holding him tightly. "Do you love me?" 

"You don't know how much," he sighed.

"Don't think that for a second, Andy; I'm your twin soul, remember? Believe me, I know. And I love you back, at least as much!"

"You mean...?"

"Can you think of anyone in the world you'd rather?" I asked, pulling him closer.

"I - you - uh - um no, there's no one," he whispered hesitantly. "It's you. Only you."

The closeness of our embrace was affecting him dramatically. I could feel him, pressing into me just below my firm tummy. I desperately wanted him to kiss me, to feel how aroused I was becoming and engage with me. His excitement was quickening the spread of my dampness, and I was certain that the aroma of my arousal would be touching our senses at any moment.

The stillness of our clasp changed slowly. Timidly, Andy began rubbing his hands on my back. The excitement of the change caused the nipples of my small breasts to tighten and press lightly into his chest through our garments. I let my hands roam to his muscular buttocks, kneading softly at the tops of then, where they curved outward from his tight back.

Finally, we gave in to the closeness and kissed one another. This wasn't anything like the kisses we'd had recently. It started very slowly, but quickly became a hungry, heated kiss of wanton abandon. Our hands began to roam and explore each other's bodies more freely, as our tongues slipped frantically into each other's mouths. The tightness of his erection increased and I could feel it pulsing against me. Andy's ache became an audible moan into my mouth.

In the low light of the entryway, walking backward, I pressed for us to complete the distance through the short hall. When the backs of my knees hit an obstruction, I broke the embrace to lie atop the freshly made double bed. Andy quickly joined me and resumed kissing me. Initially, I fumbled with the buttons of his lightweight beach shirt. Soon I had them all opened and caressed his hairless chest. His pectoral muscles tightened as I rubbed him. When my thumb slid over his nipple, he moaned into my mouth again. I delighted in the sound, and the feel of him against me, and the knowledge that I was the one who had aroused this fierce passion in him.

Enticed by my explorations, Andy finally began investigating my body with his strong hands. He started at my buttocks, but let himself be more adventurous as we continued to kiss. Soon, Andy was massaging my breasts and tweaking my nipples through my shirt and bra. He gently worked his hands under my shirt, where his fingers found the front latch of my bra and released it. Despite his being a virgin, Andy was clearly not new to making out. His tongue danced in and out of my mouth as his hands worked to remove my shirt and bra. With the shirt removed, his hand cupped my breasts.

"Yes, Andy; yes!" I moaned around the thickness of his tongue.

My nipples ached to be sucked, but I was enjoying our make out session so much that I didn't want to rush him. Our lips parted and rejoined repeatedly, as our desire mounted.

I embraced him tightly, forcing the nude portions of our bodies together, and the feeling of that contact was electrifying! My nipples tightened in anticipation of sensations yet to come, and I knew that Andy could feel those hardened nubs of flesh pressing into the bared skin of his chest. His breath caught, and he stopped kissing me for a moment as he slid his hands into the waistband of my pants. He was becoming the aggressor, for the moment, his hands urgently gripping my ass as they slipped further inside my panties.

Looking down along our writhing bodies, I could see the hardness of Andy's cock as it pressed against the fabric of his shorts. I placed my right hand on it, over the cloth, squeezing it gently as my left hand loosed the button and dragged the zipper down. Soon, I had his shorts around his knees. I sat up, then, and pulled them off him the rest of the way, flung them across the room and onto the floor in my mad rush to have him entirely naked. 

"Ohh, Annie!" he groaned, looking at me with an amazed smile.

I smiled back at him, leaned down to give him a brief, soft kiss, and then shimmied out of my shorts and panties, tossing them to join Andy's clothing on the floor. Andy looked at me, then, seeing his sister naked for the first time since we were small children. Starting with my eyes - which blazed with the heat of my desire for him - he let his gaze wander down to my chest, and then on downward to my hairless pubic area, his mouth gaping slightly open the entire time.

Finally, as if he was coming out of a trance, Andy closed his mouth and swallowed roughly.

"You're so beautiful, Annie," he told me in a soft voice.

"You look pretty amazing, too," I returned his compliment, "but one of us is still a little overdressed, and it's not me..."

Awkwardly, he flashed me a quick grin and then slipped out of his briefs, tossing them onto the pile of clothing, and I got my first totally unobstructed view of him in years. His cock was at full attention, standing out from his abdomen and pulsing rapidly. I slid down along the length of his lanky frame, repositioning myself so that my face was inches away from it. The musky fragrance of his aroma invaded my senses, causing a new flood of wetness between my thighs. I licked my lips in rapt anticipation and, looking him directly in the eyes, I asked, "Can I touch it?"

"I think I'll die, if you don't, Annie," Andy nodded instantly, and I reached out to take him in my hands. He was big, but not huge like some of the monster cocks I'd seen in porn. Still, he filled both of my small hands, and was bigger than any of the few I'd actually seen and touched. Yes, I had actually seen some cocks 'in the flesh', held a few, and even sucked a couple. I wondered just how big Andy's was, as I felt the bulbous head. His body jerked a little, and he moaned in pleasure as I stroked him lightly. The hair around his cock was thick and dark, but trimmed short. It was the one place on his body that had any significant hair.

"It's not very big, is it?" he asked shyly. 

"I think it's beautiful, Andy." I told him in a husky voice.

"But it's not all that big, right? My first girlfriend, at college, told me I wasn't as big as her previous boyfriend... "

What a bitch! I thought, stunned that his girlfriend would break that unspoken rule. The fact that she'd done so, and inflicted that kind of psychological damage to such a sweet, caring man filled me with rage, and I knew that I had to do something to counter the damage she'd caused.

"Andy, I'm certainly not an expert on cocks," I told him as I stroked his length softly, studying it up close. "I've only seen maybe four, up close like this, but I can tell you that yours is the biggest I've ever seen or held."

"Really, Annie?" he asked, his eyes widening.

"Truth, Andy!" I nodded. "And, another thing - guys aren't the only ones who 'talk'. Girls talk about guys, too, and my roommate taught me a little trick."

I changed my position, slightly, and placed my right hand along his length, with the heel buried in his pubic hair. The tip of my 'bird' finger didn't reach the tip of his cock.

"I know - because I measured it - that the distance from the heel of my hand to the tip of my 'bird' finger is six and one-quarter inches. Your cock sticks out beyond that, almost an inch, so you must have pretty close to seven inches. In case you've never come across the statistics, average cock size is somewhere between five and a half inches, and six. That leaves you with a pretty impressive joystick between your legs," I looked up at his face and smiled, "big brother!"

"You think so?" he asked me.

"I do," I chuckled. "I already told you that yours is the biggest I've ever seen or held. It's impressive, to me, and that's what counts, here and now! Besides, unless the lady is an absolute 'size-queen', it's not really the size that matters. It's whether the guy knowing how to use it to bring his lady pleasure."

"Thanks, for all of that, Annie," he murmured, his eyes pouring out his love for me along with his gratitude for my setting him more at ease.

"Alright, then," I giggled. "Enough shop talk. We're both naked, and your sister is holding your rock-hard cock in her hot little hand. Can she suck it?"

His eyes met mine and he vigorously nodded his agreement.

Andy's cock was pulsing furiously in my hand, by that time, and little rivulets of his pre-cum were starting to ooze down the crown. I licked it off, savoring the flavor. It was a little salty, musky and a tad fruity. Andy was very tense. I stopped again asking, "Have you ever done this?"

"Yeah. My second girlfriend gave me a blow-job before breaking up with me."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Andy was a hunk! Who were these women, and where in hell was he finding them? I moved, positioning myself between his thighs, so that we could both look at each other along the length of his body.

"Look at me, Andy," I taunted him in my throatiest sexy tone of voice. "Watch your sister suck your cock!"

I took about half of his warm cock into my mouth and was rewarded by the sudden hiss of his indrawn breath, followed by a deep groan that voiced the pleasure he was feeling. There was more pre-cum flowing as I swirled my tongue around the head, and the taste of it only served to fuel my arousal even more. Andy's entire body twitched with every lick of my tongue.

"You okay, Andy?" I asked, coming off his cock long enough to ask. 

He nodded smiling naughtily, "You don't know how many times I've imagined this happening! Part of me still wonders if I'm dreaming this!"

"Tell me you still think you're dreaming, in just a little while, when you're filling your sister's mouth with your cum!" I challenged him, laughing briefly.

Feeling more confident I had read everything correctly tonight, I took him back in my mouth. I was looking Andy directly in the eyes as I bobbed my head up and down; taking him in as far as I could and nearly releasing him each time. I was no expert, at sucking cocks, but I thought had gotten pretty good with my last boyfriend, Ken. That he'd eventually dumped me for a cheerleader named Barbie was due solely to the fact that I hadn't been ready to spread my legs for him and let him have me, but that didn't matter at that moment. 

 "Tonight," I thought,  "tonight, I'm going to give myself to Andy!" First, I wanted to relieve his built-up tension. I figured if we got his first orgasm out of the way quickly, he wouldn't have any 'premature ejaculation' issues, later on, when I let him take me. Correction: when we took each other. I continued to bob my mouth rapidly on his cock, letting my hand trail my lips and tongue up and down its saliva-slickened length to increase the pleasure he was feeling. Very soon, I could feel his torso tensing in preparation for ejaculation.

"Ohhh, Annie! I'm - ung - oh fuck -" he fell silent, gripping the covers tensely as he finally came. His eyes closed involuntarily, in sheer rapture, as he spent himself. His semen was thick and salty-sweet, and he continued to pulse it into my mouth. I swallowed each spurt except for the last one. I had plans, for that. 

When his eyes slowly reopened, I saw his gratitude and adoration there. I opened my mouth, showing him the last of his essence, pooled on my tongue. Then I tilted my head back and traced down along my throat as I swallowed the last of his spending, knowing that he'd see the contraction of the muscles in my throat.

"Mmm, you taste delicious," I told him, licking my lips and rolling my eyes to show my delight. "Did I do okay?"

He reached down and touched my cheek, "I love you, Annie. That was the best birthday present I could imagine."

"I've always loved you, Andy," I smiled up at him. "But your birthday present isn't over, yet. Not by a long shot!"

He sat up and encouraged me to slide up the bed alongside him and stretch out on my back. When I had done so, he gently spread my legs apart and brought his face close to inspect me.

"Annie, it's beautiful," he said, gazing upon my freshly waxed pussy. I could only imagine what I looked like to him. I could feel how wet I was and how aroused my hood felt. His breath on me was making me hotter by the moment. 

"Can I return the favor?" he asked cutely. 

"Andy, I am your gift. You don't have to ask permission anymore tonight." I encouraged him, pulling his head towards me with my hands and fingers entwined in his long dark hair. "But the answer to your question is, 'Yes'. I'm dying to have you lick me. Come and taste my love for you!"

He didn't start licking right away, though. He sniffed me inhaling deeply. Then unexpectedly he paused and moved up my body. He was sniffing and nibbling me the whole way, sniffing and nibbling various erogenous spots.

When he reached my breasts he looked up at me and said, "I want to go slow. I want to memorize this, okay?"

"Uh-huh," I nodded, winking saucily at him. I had the feeling that he wanted to ingrain every nuance of our night together firmly in his mind, thinking that it would never happen again. I could have easily dispelled that notion, in him, could have told him that - if I had my way - it was going to happen every single night until our return to our separate colleges forced us apart. That might have led to one of those long 'where do we go, from here?' conversations, and the minutes of the night were passing far too rapidly to let that happen. My body was already on fire with the desire to feel him fill me. Talk, except for the occasional murmured encouragements common to lovemaking, could wait until the cold light of day.

He responded by taking my taut right nipple into his mouth. I hadn't expected my reaction to be so intense but, suddenly, I was writhing in ecstasy. All Andy was doing was gently sucking my long, thick nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue across the teat portion, but my passion was streaking toward the stratosphere! His left hand gently massaged my right breast, tweaking the nipple and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. The heat at my groin was growing and I pushed his right hand down so that he could feel the wetness between my thighs.

After some moments had passed, Andy switched breasts and hands. His left hand was pressing at the extremely slick entrance of my vagina. His mouth was working wonders on my left breast. While his mouth was busy, he continued to work his fingers around the inner lips, spreading me slightly, and my body writhed beneath his ministrations. Then, at last, a finger slid inside me. I convulsed as it entered, my groan of pleasure so loud that, I think, it actually startled him for a moment, but then he continued. Never, in my entire life, had I been so aroused. His finger worked in and out slowly at first as my convulsions subsided.

Andy took his mouth off my breast and asked, "Am I doing it okay?"

"Um-hm," was all I could get out. Man, was he doing it 'okay! Every single one of my past lovers could have taken lessons, from him!

He kissed, sniffed and nibbled his way back down, pausing to stick his tongue in my little 'innie' navel. I'd never considered that to be one of my erogenous zones, but the touch of his tongue in that little depression caused gooseflesh to erupt all over my body! Then, at last, he was kissing and nuzzling around my mons. I couldn't figure out how he had mustered so much patience. We were both virgins, but there didn't seem to be any rushing things, at all, on his part. I wondered if he had done this before because he was making me crazy. Then, it occurred to me that he hadn't. If he'd ever pleasured any other woman in her right mind, the way he was pleasuring me, he'd have won himself a steady girl, and there's no way in hell he'd still be a virgin!

Finally, he was kissing my womanhood, his fingers now replaced by his lips and tongue. The entire time, he remained slow and gentle. Every so often his tongue would graze my clitoris, which - by that time - was engorged and (I was fairly certain) fully extended. My clit was the source of another of my self-image issues. It was long and large - nearly thumb-sized, when I was as aroused as Andy had me at that moment - and almost looked like a miniature penis. All my other boyfriends had avoided it like the plague. Andy clearly didn't mind, though, as it was suddenly in his mouth and he was sucking on it directly. My hands were immediately in his hair pressing him down furiously.

"Yes, yes, yes!" I screamed, probably loud enough to wake the occupants of both neighboring rooms, but I didn't care. "Don't stop, Andy; please don't stop!"

Andy took my direction in stride, licking and nibbling my little 'man in the boat' with wild abandon, even taking a cue from my earlier activity and sucking on it while laving it with his tongue, just as I had done with his cock! Just as I was about to become too sensitive, he thrust his tongue into my vagina and drank from me as I began to squirt a little fluid into his mouth. His eyes flashed as they met mine. He was clearly surprised, but he continued to eat me like this until I was barely to keep my eyes open. Then, suddenly, he reinserted two of his fingers, twisting them upside down within me, touching and then strumming the rough patch of tissue on the upper wall of my vagina. My eyes slammed tightly shut and I let out a prolonged shriek as a huge orgasm rocked and ripped at my body. I couldn't help pressing his head even harder, as I bucked, and his hands gripped beneath both sides of my ass to keep himself engaged as he weathered the storm.

Andy slowed his efforts, then, obviously intent on keeping the soft aftershocks of my orgasm rippling through me, but - after a few moments - the sensations became so intense as to be almost painful, and I had to gently push him away.

"Too sensitive!" I pleaded with him, opening my eyes to see him looking down on me with a soft smile on his lips.

As my orgasmic waves slowly subsided, Andy moved up to lie beside me. His soft petting and stroking soothed me while I regained my equanimity.

"God, Andy!" I gasped, when I could finally speak. "Where did you learn that?"

"I watch a lot of porn, Annie," he said sheepishly. "And I read a lot of stories and 'how-to' stuff, but I've never gone this far before."

He was so gentle, patient and caring. Who wouldn't want that? I hugged him close. "Me either, but I'd like you to have me, if you want," I whispered seductively. 

His eyes widened. "You want to be my first?"

"I want us to be one another's firsts." Reaching down, I found he was fully erect again. "You honestly don't think I've let us go all this way, only to stop now, do you?"

He snuggled against me, kissing me sweetly on my cheek, and his rigid cock was pressing into my side. I wasn't entirely sure how to handle the next part of this 'dance', either. I'd seen my share of porn as well, so I had some ideas. Andy moved to sit up and straddle me, but I gently pressed him back down onto the mattress, again.

"Let me, baby," I suggested, clambering over him. The loving look on his face, at that, nearly brought tears to my eyes.

I climbed up on top of him and aimed him at my slit, gently pressing his rigidness against my slickness. Instinct alone drove me, now, but it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. The expression Andy made was priceless. It was a swirl of love and awe, mixed with a hint of rapt apprehension... and joy. 




Jinxed!



Part One -- Class

Natasha, or simply Tasha stepped from her apartment onto the busy city street on her way to class. A freshman at NYU, she had to work two jobs just to afford this crappy apartment and tuition, even with her scholarship, so today was going to be a full one.

The early morning sun cast honey-colored highlights on her styled hair. Her father's mixed Eurasian blood gave her striking features, thick honey blond hair and deep eyes. Her mother's Latin side graced her with a voluptuous figure. Her ass was a perfect bubble, sweeping out from her slender waist, flexing in tune with her toned thighs. Having stopped gymnastics only a year ago, her C cup breasts were relatively new to this 18 year old, and swelled high and proud on her nubile frame.

Although money was tight, Tasha managed to find tasteful fashions in the city's consignment shops. She was wearing a faded denim skirt that came to mid thigh, a pink cotton blouse that was beginning to strain across her bust, and her favorite pair of alligator skin boots. Tasha also wore small wireframe glasses (she was almost blind without them) and of course a small backpack for her books.

Although Tasha somehow managed to make it to 18 still a virgin, she still loved to flirt with boys. Her stunning figure and teasing nature has earned her a reputation as a cock tease from more than one ex-boyfriend.

Tasha's path to her morning sociology lecture took her past a farmer's market. She was running a little early for once, so she strolled through the produce stands. A buff young man at one of the stands caught her eye. The dark hair and complexion, along with the ear ring pretty much labeled this guy a gypsy. 

Tasha approached and give him her sweetest smile. He blushed and lowered in his eyes in response. His shyness just emboldened Tasha. She leaned over the label, giving him a clear view of her tightly packed cleavage. He gulped deeply, but when her eyes met his, he looked away, flustered.

She pretended the straps on her backpack were bothering her, and twisted them about, forcing her shoulders back and chest out. Her blouse pulled even tighter, yawning open gaps between the straining buttons, revealing a white lace bra. 

"Uh oh," she gasped at her exposure, partially feigned and partially real. Tasha was no slut, but she did like to tease the boys when the mood hit her. The gypsy boy was breaking out in a cold sweat. Tasha "adjusted" her blouse by grabbing her tits and pushing them together, creating a cleavage line almost to her neck. She laughed at her predicament, giving an extra bounce to her tits. Still the boy was speechless.

Tasha gave him a wave and a smile, and turned to leave. Suddenly a dark-haired girl was in her face. She had thick piles of wild black hair, a simple white tank top over her small, pointed breasts, and a long skirt. It didn't take a genius to figure this girl was his girlfriend.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, getting right in Tasha's face.

"Checking out the produce," Tasha retorted, defiant.

"You dirty whore! You leave my man alone! Don't you EVER flirt with him!"

"Listen sweetie, don't you ever tell me who I can flirt with, understand?" Tasha turned to leave. The gypsy girl reached out and grabbed Tasha's breast! Tasha squealed in surprise. The gypsy girl leaned in close and murmured, "You go, and you show yourself off for the whole city, for any man who wants to see. The more you fight it, the worse it gets!"

Tasha thought nothing of it at the time, but she would later replay those words again and again. But for now, she was late for class.

Tasha settled into her seat of the small lecture room. She usually sat in the back row so she could text her friends if she got bored. The downside was it put her crotch right at eye level for Prof. Raleigh.

Prof. Raleigh had a reputation among the women of NYU for his habit of checking out the coeds. He was relatively harmless, and never made so much as rude comment to any girl. Some girls even flashed him on purpose, perhaps hoping to send the aging Professor into cardiac arrest. Nonetheless, Tasha always kept her legs tightly crossed against the Professor's probing eyes.

Ever since he was a young man, Sinclair Raleigh loved peeking up girls skirts. Sometimes he wonders if he didn't become a lecturer simply to be surrounded beautiful young women in short skirts. The Professor had glimpsed more panties than he could ever count, and this particular class was fast become a favorite of his. 

There was the Goth Girl, short raven black hair, too much eye liner, and beautiful, perky breasts. Black panties, always. Usually satin, occasionally a thong, that might reveal a hint of ass check pressing into her seat. She also liked to wear thigh high stockings. She clearly wasn't a morning person, and was usually too groggy to notice even the most obvious stares from Raleigh.

There was the adorable Asian girl. Short, lithe build, with great legs. She frequently work dangerously short skirts, and cotton panties with cartoon characters on them. She was terrible at keeping her legs together, so by now the Professor new her entire panty wardrobe by heart. Too easy, no thrill there anymore.

Then there was the one he called the Princess. Too blond, too tan, and too good looking for her own good. Great tits, long, muscular legs, pouty lips, and all of the attitude to match. The kind of student that costs men their jobs. However, Raleigh was no ordinary pervert. He bided his time, never a glance over when she uncrossed her legs, consciously luring him to look. When she got bored with his lectures, he pretended not to notice when she would listen to her iPod, and that was her failing. Lost in her music, her eyes would close, her feet would bounce, and her knees would drift farther and farther apart. Her opened skirts would reveal a wide variety of expensive and delicate panties. It seemed like he never saw the same pair twice! And on one particularly hot day, he could swear she wasn't wearing any panties at all, baring her clean shaven pussy to him! That one very nearly did give him a heart attack!

And then there was Natasha, known to her friends simply as Tasha. The one girl he had never managed to peek on, and such a gorgeous one, too. She always keeps her legs crossed, firm thighs locked like a vise. Even when sitting or standing, she managed to deflect the Professors every attempt. She either turned to the side to uncross herself or kept a palm pressed between her legs to block any glimpse. This girl was good, but Raleigh was determined to get his due.

Tasha opened her notebook, and half-heartedly jotted down notes as Prof. Raleigh began his lecture. Her mind was still back at the farmer's market, and that crazy gypsy girl. Her tit still tingled a little from the encounter, and she brushed it gently with the back of her hand.

As Prof. Raleigh began today's lecture, he took stock of the fine ladies before him. The Goth Girl was wearing a floor length skirt. No luck there. The Asian Girl was wearing jeans. The Princess was either skipping class or planning on making one of her trademark late entrances. That left Tasha, the one and only girl to grace him with a skirt and the possibility of a panty peek, albeit a very slight one. Prof. Raleigh was feeling lucky- today just might be the day he finally sees her mysterious undies!

The Professor went through his lecture as he had a thousand times before. It was completely memorized and left most of his attention free for Tasha. Of course, her legs were crossed tightly, surrendering only a beautiful view of her tanned underthigh. Raleigh paced the room to check every angle. No matter which direction he looked, about her legs or from below, all he could see was an impenetrable pinhole of darkness. Nevertheless, this was a short skirt, especially for the relatively conservative Tasha.

She began fiddling with her cell phone. Like Princess' iPod, the Professor overlooked this in the hopes it would distract the coed from maintaining a lady-like pose. Sadly, with Tasha, it never worked. 

Instantly bored by today's lecture, Tasha began texting her friends. It wasn't long before she felt Prof. Raleigh's intent gaze on her, on her legs. She tugged at the hem of her skirt, wiggling in her seat. She was feeling a bit exposed, and hoped she wasn't showing off anything she shouldn't be. 

Minutes passed. Tasha noticed an itch, a tickle on her inner thigh. The Professor was still keeping a close eye on her. That itch was getting annoying. Scratching it would mean uncrossing her legs, but ignoring it was quickly becoming impossible.

Tasha pressed her hand between her legs, shielding her crotch from any view by her lecherous teacher, and nimbly uncrossed her legs.

Prof. Raleigh stumbled in his droning speech- Tasha was uncrossing her legs! She kept one hand between her legs, blocking the wonderful view up her skirt. She thrust her free hand behind her first, almost right up her skirt, and scratched at her flawless skin. Tasha seemed relieved to finally catch that itch, and quickly recrossed her legs.

Tasha was relieved to have her legs crossed again- the teacher was really earning his prurient reputation today. She tugged at her hem again- she never realized just how short this skirt really was. From her point of view, the denim skit looked to be just a few inches from her crotch- far far shorter than she ever remembered it. Tasha could feel the bare skin of her thighs against the warm plastic of the seat. She pulled harder at her skirt, but it only seemed to make it worse.

"The more you fight it, the worse it gets!" No, that's stupid, she thought. This has nothing to do with that damn gypsy girl. This is just a minor fashion crisis. Her hemline was probably just snagged on a bolt or maybe a crack in the seat. Again Tasha yanked at it, and the skirt seemed to yank right back, losing another inch. 

"Okay, what the hell?" Tasha fumed. She lifted her ass just an inch off the seat, and slipped her hand underneath, looking for her caught hem. There was nothing! No loose bolts or cracks or anything pulling her skirt up. What she did find was that her skirt had risen so far, the bottoms of her ass cheeks were slipping out. 

Tasha gave a good hard pull at her skirt from underneath, and again the skirt resisted. When she gave up and sat back normally, Tasha's skirt wasn't even underneath her anymore. It was completely bunched up behind her, leaving her bar skin touching the seat.

Prof. Raleigh was so rapt by the little scene playing out before him, he could have been lecturing on Chinese Arithmetic. At first he was worried that young Natasha had caught him inspecting her lovely legs. 

The way she was fumbling with her skirt. It looked like she was trying to pull it down to a more modest level, but the skirt was actually slowly creeping up her legs. By now her wiggling and fidgeting had caused the skirt to ride so far, it left nothing between her and the seat. Nothing between her and her most intimate place, except the thin fabric of her panties. 

Tasha was always so well-dressed, he was sure her panties would be something sensual yet tasteful. The Young lady was beginning to blush visibly, and rightly so. With her skirt almost entirely up around her hips, the only thing keeping her panties from being on display was her hand, thrust prudishly between her smooth thighs. It was the only thing stopping him from a divine view up the most impenetrable skirt on campus.

Tasha's skirt was so short, the hand covering the view of her panties was actually touching them! It occurred to her on some level that she had her hand up her skirt and was touching herself fright in the middle of class. She almost pulled her hand away in shame until she thought better of it. Tasha was almost trembling with humiliation, although the only person who might have noticed her predicament was her pervy teacher. 

Just then, that rich blond bitch Kari came strutting in late, making one of her grand entrances. She flashed her smile around the room, taking note of who was taking note of her, when she spotted Tasha. Kari spotted the skirt, and Tasha's embarrassed body language, and grinned to herself as she took her seat. 

Tasha decided to confide in one of her friends. Maybe they had an idea of what to do? Then again, how often do magically shrinking skirts actually happen? As she typed away the text message, the cell phone slipped from her fingers, bounced off her lap, and landed into the next row. Right in the backpack of that Goth Girl! Prof. Raleigh watched the whole event play out with great anticipation.

Tasha need to get her phone back before class ended and the Goth Girl walked off with it. She couldn't just squat down and grab it without grabbing the Professor's attention with her lewd display. She hatched a simple enough plan. Excuse herself to the restroom. Take a few minutes and figure out just what the hell was wrong with her skirt today. When she returns, she'd squat down at her backpack, her back to the Professor, as if she needs to get another book out. Then just simply reach back into Goth Girl's bag and snag her phone back. 

It was a stupid plan, but right now it was better than now plan. Tasha waited until Prof, Raleigh was writing on the board and had his back turned. She leapt out of her chair and was halfway to the door before he even turned around to spot her. Her skirt was still at scandalous heights, and she kept one hand in front and one in back to guard herself. The pose drew the attention of everyone in the class, but definitely less so than running around with her panties showing.

She made it to the hallway before the professor could even ask where she was going. There was no one around, but she didn't dare walk any faster than a mince for fear of her skirt riding up even more. She had never felt so naked and vulnerable, even though she was still fully clothed.

At long last she made it to the ladies room. Her reflection in the mirror completely stunned her- the skirt was fine! Tastefully at mid-thigh, right where it was when she walked out the door that morning. No snags, no rips, no evidence whatsoever that anything strange was happening to her skirt. Maybe she just dreamed the whole thing, and woke up when she dropped her cell phone? Well, at least that was one problem solved. Tasha felt much more relaxed and confident. She cleaned her glasses, adjusted her blouse and fixed her hair. Now she just had to get her phone back from that creepy Goth Girl.

Tasha strode back into class a new woman. Prof. Raleigh was surprised to see her skirt back at a more modest length, especially considering how short it seemed just a few minutes ago when she rushed out. He had so hoped of finally getting a peek at this gorgeous girl's panties!

Then something happened that no one in the class room could quite believe. As Tasha walked the steps to the third row, her skirt seemed to rise, pull back like a curtain before a show. Now she had the rapt attention of every male in the classroom, as well as that one Asian girl. It seemed like a good 6 inches of denim just evaporated before everyone's eyes.

Tasha was blissfully unaware of her skirt's deteriorating condition, and continued with her plan to recover her cell phone. Prof. Raleigh had to resist the overwhelming urge to drop to his knees just to get a lower vantage. Quick flashes of the bottom of her ass cheeks peeked out with every stride back to her desk.

And then she did it- she squatted down at her desk. Looking through her bag or something. Who knows? Who cares? Silence hung in the room, every eye turned on her, and her toned thighs. Her ass cheeks peeking out, resting on the heels of her boots. Yet no panties, not yet. Somehow the skirt managed to cover them, by the smallest fraction of an inch.

Tasha proceeded with her plan, oblivious to the dead silence and intense focus on her ass and skirt. Until, that is, she turned around to reach grab her cell phone from the Goth Girl's bag. Tasha yelped in surprise- Goth Girl was looking right at her! So was Prof. Raleigh, and everyone else in class. She was so shock, she fell forward to her knees.

Prof. Raleigh will cherish that moment for the rest of his days. It was like time stood still. Her knees hit the floor, her hands soon following. The subtle jiggle in her breasts from the gentle impact. The way she unconsciously arched the small of her back, accentuating the round fullness of her hips and ass. The look of bashful surprise on her face. But most of all, the panties.

White. High cut, tracing a narrow arc across the swell of each cheek. The way the dimples of her inner thigh disappeared behind the delicate lace. The delicate bump where the thin fabric traced the intimate shape of her sex. They were semi-sheer, and although not a single pubic hair was visible, Raleigh would swear to his dying day that he could make out the delicate fleshy ruffles of her pursed lips.

Tasha SCREAMED! Her panty-clad ass, waving in front of the entire class. At least three students had camera phones out! She wrenched at her skirt, which had become little more than a wide belt, but in her desperate flailing, she toppled backwards. Backwards, into the row below, onto the terrified Goth Girl.

Tasha landed roughly on the poor Goth Girl, turning herself upside down. Her shoulders plopped into Goth Girls lap, and her legs wrapped around Goth Girls shocked face. Prof. Raleigh quickly stepped behind his desk to conceal his growing erection- the sight was heavenly. Tasha's lacy thin panties were pressed against Goth Girl's neck and chin. 

"Get OFF!" Goth Girl growled, giving Tasha a shove. Tasha continued her fall to the floor, giving the room a full view of her barely covered ass as her skirt bunched around her waist. Tasha was disoriented from her fall, and found herself nearly half-naked on the floor. She could her camera phones snapping pictures all around her, stealing images of her most private, intimate parts. The humiliation was overwhelming. 

She grabbed for the closest thing, anything, and pulled at it with fevered strength, hoping to hide her shame. Cloth piled on her, at least hiding her tiny white panties. Black cloth. Goth Girl's long skirt.

Goth Girl was completely dumbstruck. This crazy girl just fell over her and now ripped off her skirt. It took her a moment to realize she was standing in front of about 30 of her peers in just a black lace bustier, black boots, her trademark thigh high stockings, and a skimpy black thong. She chose to ignore her indecency for the time being, and tried to wrestle the skirt back from Tasha.

This sight would become Prof. Raleigh's most treasured memory. The Goth Girl, in her miniscule black thong, pale white thighs and black stockings. Tasha, the exotic Eurasian coed, in her elusive white lacy bikini briefs, too sheer to completely hide her nudity. Both wrestled furiously for control of the long black skirt. Tasha was already flushed and quivering with embarrassment. The Goth Girl's pale complexion was quickly rouging at the spectacle. 

Raleigh was never a breast man, but he had to appreciate how both girls lovely bosoms jiggled in the exertion. Although Goth Girl's breasts were slightly smaller, her bustier put her pale cleavage on display so nicely. Tasha's fuller breasts were packed into a very snug pink blouse, its buttons straining to contain her womanly charms.

Almost on cue, the top button on her blouse popped free. The bloused yawned open, squeezing even more of her tanned cleavage into view, as well as some of her white lace bra. It matched her panties so nicely. Tasha screamed again, and gave up her grip on the black skirt. 

While Goth Girl recovered her skirt and her modesty, Tasha scrambled to her feet. One hand clutched her blouse, the other, her crotch. She froze for a moment, unsure what to do or where to run. Raleigh couldn't take his eyes off her perfect white panties. 




Jinxed!



Tasha had never bee so humiliated in all her life. The leering faces of her classmates, her professor. The photos they're snapping. Her bag, her books, her cell phone, none of that mattered anymore. Her clothes were literally falling apart; if she didn't do something soon, Tasha was going to be completely nude in the middle of class.

Tasha turned and fled for the door, treating the class to one last look at her white panties, and full, bubble-shaped backside. She could feel the burning stares of dozens of horny eyes on her tush... and then something else. Her panties began to slip! The thin lace that once hugged her like a second skin now fell away as if it were 3 sizes too large! 

Her beautiful ass slipped into view, unobstructed. Prof. Raleigh, and countless other students, marveled at the perfection of it. Round and womanly, yet firm and toned. A hint of a tan line, blending into her warm natural color. By the time she got to the door, her panties her a tangle of lingerie between her thighs. She desperately fought to clutch the material to her virgin pubis, but it slipped from her nervous fingers.

Tasha made it to the hallway, but she wasn't alone this time. Several students were walking by from every direction, eyes wide and jaws dropped at the sight of this half-naked woman. Now her frantic mind faced another dilemma- stop where she was and try to recover her falling panties, or let the panties drop free and run like hell for the ladies room.

Tasha chose the later, letting the panties go. However the panties weren't ready to let her go. Instead of falling of her legs, they bunched at her calves, at the tops of her boots. As much as Tasha tried to sprint to safety, the panties kept her knees locked. With one last desperate kick, the panties ripped apart with a tremendous sound. The tattered lace finally fell free, and Tasha could run to the ladies room.

Tasha cowered in the stall for what seemed like hours, collecting her wits. She could overhear the aftermath of the whole affair. She heard Goth Girl come in, swearing a blue streak as she repaired her skirt. She listened to what seemed like dozens of girls compare notes, share photos on their cell phones, and retell the whole horrible thing over and over again. 

When she was reasonable sure she was alone, Tasha crept out to inspect the damage. Just as before her skirt appeared its normal, mid-thigh length. Her blouse was missing its top button, leaving her showing quite a bit of cleavage and bra. Maybe she had a safety pin in her bag to repair it with. Her panties, however, were just plain gone.

When she worked up the nerve to leave the ladies room, Tasha saw her panties had been removed from the hallway as well. God only knows who had them. They could be on ebay by now. 

Unfortunately another class was using her classroom. She had to interrupt the teacher to sneak in and grab her backpack.

"That's the girl... skirt... flashing everyone... panties... stripped another girl... pretty hot...." Whispers circulated around the room as Tasha made the uneasy journey to her backpack. Once again feeling all eyes on her, she tried to clutch her blouse closed, but she felt herself flushing once again. The draft on her thighs told her that her skirt was beginning to shrink once again.

Tasha quickly scooped up her books into her backpack, leaving her blouse unguarded. She bent down to collect her things, her full breasts danced and wiggled just a few feet away from several gawking freshmen boys. The more she rushed, the more her tits bounced, and the more the boys enjoyed it. And she had to rush - she could feel her skirt creeping up her thighs like a burning fuse. A few more seconds under these lustful glares, and Tasha would once again be losing her clothes and her modesty.

She hoisted up her backpack. And that is when her bra broke. The strap across her left shoulder snapped like a fragile thread. The cup loosened a bit, and her left breast relaxed from its gravity-defying position. The only thing holding her bra cup against her tit was her blouse, and her blouse was just barely holding together.

The skirt had almost risen to the start of her ass, and without her panties, there would be nothing to hide her shame. Especially with her standing up on the third row and everyone looking up at her. 

Tasha ran for the door. Her tits, especially the left one, bounced wildly, taxing her blouse. The top button ripped free, nailing some grinning guy right in the eye. Unhindered by the opening blouse, her broken bra cup slithered down her tit. Her taut nipple stabbed at her blouse. And still she ran.

Another button popped off her blouse! She held it together as best she could. Tasha's skirt was about to show her pussy to the world, so she was forced to plant her other hand over her nude crotch yet again. She fled out the door, once again leaving her bare ass as the parting image. 

Tasha regrouped in the ladies room. She was spending way too much time in here this morning. As expected, her skirt continued its Jekyll & Hyde routine, returning to its normal length. Her blouse was another story. All of the buttons had exploded off, one by one back in the classroom. Her bra was shot. Tasha stripped it off and threw it in the trash. That was not a cheap lingerie set she lost. Today was getting as expensive as it was humiliating.

To top it off, there was no way these clothes would survive back to her apartment, and without her phone, she couldn't call any of her girlfriends to help. The nearest clothing store was two blocks away. A trendy, pricey store only rich teen girls from Long Island ever shopped in. Still at this point, she would pay every cent she had to not have her clothes fall off on a busy Manhattan street. 

Tasha found some paperclips in her backpack, and wired her blouse back together. Her braless tits bounced and poked wantonly at her precarious blouse. She had no panties, and a skirt with a mind of its own. She had to cross two blocks crowded with New Yorkers and hormonal NYU students. It was time for Tasha to go shopping...

Part Two -- Shopping

Prof. Raleigh relaxed on a park bench, still euphoric from the morning's events. As if seeing that young beauty losing her clothes right in his very class, he had managed to retrieve her discarded panties from the hallway. His hand caressed the tiny bundle of torn lace in his pocket.

As he replayed the highly erotic scene over and over in his mind, he spotted Miss Natasha herself, briskly walking past the park. She had her backpack clutched to her chest, as if someone were trying to steal it from her. Wherever she was heading, she meant to get there in a hurry.

Before he realized what he was doing, Raleigh sprang from his seat with youthful vigor. Tasha was walking quite quickly, but the Professor found his old muscles inspired by pure lust.

How odd. He skirt seemed so short in class. It hardly looked like the miniskirt from his memories; it was much more conservative now. The one thing he was sure of, underneath that ordinary skirt, Miss Natasha was completely nude.

Tasha had never, ever gone without panties before. It was just something she simply did not do, regardless of the outfit. Not even pants. And now to walk through the middle of Manhattan, in a skirt that seems to keep shrinking with any panties on- the thought alone was knotting her stomach with butterflies. And as if she could ever forget just how close to naked humiliation she was, a cool breeze across Tasha's most intimate places was quick to remind her.

Although she kept her backpack desperately clutched to her chest, Tasha did not need to see her ruined blouse to know what was happening. A quick glance down confirmed her suspicions. The cheap paperclips had come undone, leaving her blouse pretty much completely undone. What's worse is the paperclips became snagged on her backpack. What a terrible day! Tasha was really starting to believe this curse bullshit was actually real.

The Professor studied her skirt closely, enjoying the graceful sway of her hips played out on the faded denim. What an ass this young woman has! So often Raleigh sees women around the city with slimmer hip, understated, almost boyish backside. It was so refreshing to see a woman with a classic hourglass figure. The high, proud bust, slim waist, a full curvaceous hips framing a firm, round ass.

Another thing he didn't remember was the slit up the back. He wanted a closer look, but goodness this girl was walking so fast! Raleigh managed to catch up to her at a cross walk and got a closer look.

There was indeed quite a long slit up the back of that skirt, revealing a very enticing glimpse of creamy inner thighs, but it didn't look intentional. In fact, the slit look more like the denim was coming unstitched! There was a web of loose stitches at the top of the split, pulling free with every stride the young girl took. By now her steady pace and full hips had pulled the skirt apart to just below her ass. The Professor found himself short of breath, and not just from the exercise.

Higher and higher the split went. It was like watching a Christmas present unwrap itself. The girl was blissfully unaware that her brisk walk was peeling her skirt open like overripe fruit. At long last those beautiful cheeks emerged, lit up by the late morning sun. Raleigh couldn't believe his luck. From seeing her panties to owning her panties to seeing Tasha's beautiful bare ass on a crowded NY street. And it was, indeed, quite possibly the most perfect ass he's ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Tasha could not get used to the constant draft against her delicate parts. It only served to remind her of the morning's humiliation. Even now she could feel eyes on her, eyes that knew just how vulnerable, how close to being exposed once again she really was. 

Tasha looked over her shoulder, only to lock eyes with Professor Raleigh, following right behind her! And the perverted teacher was fumbling with some white cloth in his hands - her lost panties!

Tasha screamed, surprising even herself! Dozens of people turned to look. She stumbled, falling to the sidewalk, throwing out her hands to catch herself, letting go of her backpack. There was a sickening ripping sound as Tasha's backpack fell away, the paperclips ripping her pink blouse to tatters. Her smooth c-cup breasts jumped out, glorious in the sunlight. The dizzying surge of humiliation hit her with a hint of dj vu.

Prof. Raleigh knew he should leave. He had clearly been following her, holding the poor girl's lost panties, and now had caused her to humiliate herself once again. But he could not bear to part from the incredible vision.

Tasha was on her hands and knees, on a busy New York street corner. Dozens of stunned onlookers were all around her. Her blouse, ripped apart, spilling out her full firm tits. Her skirt split up the back all the way to the waistband. Little more than an apron, and with her bent over like this, she was exposing more than just her naked ass. The immaculate lips of her well-groomed virgin pussy peeked out between her tense thighs.

She was bordering on hysteria, scrambling for her backpack with one hand, while trying to cup her fat tits with the other. Tasha was so overwhelmed; she didn't even realize the condition of her skirt. With her backpack once again pressed against her tits, she ran down the street, leaving Prof. Raleigh and the rest of the crowd with a parting view of her bare ass as her skirt flapped in the breeze.

Tasha burst into the clothing store, and rushed past the sales girl. She raced into the maze of clothing racks to catch her breath and find some sort of cover, and caught a glimpse of some of the price tags. This place was so expensive! $175 just for a pair of jeans! 

Tasha found a clearance rack in the back of the store, although even the clearance stuff was pretty steep. It would take every cent she had in the bank just to get a top and some pants. Panties and a bra were out, and it didn't look like this store sold lingerie. 

She scoured the rack. No flimsy or delicate clothes. Something sturdy, with lots of coverage. Tasha found only one pair of jeans in her size and a heavy turtleneck sweater, and quickly retreated to the dressing room.

It was there she discovered just how ravaged her skirt was. She replayed her trip to the store in her mind, falling over, on the ground on all fours, with no clothing or modesty. Even in the privacy of the dressing room, her face flushed again with humiliation.

Tasha tried on the jeans. They were flared, which actually looked pretty hot with her boots. Unfortunately, they also rode pretty low on her hips. Not that every other girl in Manhattan wasn't walking around with her butt crack hanging out of her jeans, but Tasha felt like she had shown more than enough of her ass that day. Well, at least she had no panty lines...

The sweater fit pretty well, a little snug, but if definitely covered her up. It came to just above the tops of her jeans, leaving just a hint of midriff. The downside was the sweater was tight enough to make it plainly obvious that Tasha was not wearing any kind of bra. Her nipples poked hard points at the end of her over-animated breasts.

She spent a few minutes inspecting herself in the triple mirror, and she had to admit, given the circumstances, this was actually a pretty hot little outfit. Too bad it was going to completely clean out her bank account, just to have clothes to get home in. 

The sales girl came over to see how everything was.

"Fine, fine, I guess... oh, could I use your phone for a sec?" Tasha just had a great idea. She could call her friend Jo. Of all her friends, Jo would be the one to drop whatever she was doing to come and help out Tasha. 

Jo was sort of a Japanese version of Velma, from Scooby Doo. She could be cute, but she hadn't quite figured that out about herself yet. Although on the short side, she had a curvy figure guys always reacted to when they could actually see it. Usually she dressed herself up in baggy jeans and T shirts. Jo always loved hanging around with Tasha and the rest of the gang, admiring their fashionable outfits but always being too timid to join along.

Sure enough, one phone call later and Jo was on her way to the store. Tasha had her bring some extra clothes (just in case.) In the meantime, Tasha blew every dime she had on the outfit. The tattered blouse and skirt she abandoned in the dressing room, and waited for Jo to arrive.

In hindsight, Tasha could have just taken a cab. The thought of some cab driver leering at her the whole drive was unbearable. Not to mention sitting on those gross seats without any panties on.

When Jo arrived, Tasha couldn't help but hug her. She was such a sight for sore eyes. Tasha was finally starting to regain some poise and confidence after the morning's misadventures. Jo loved her new sweater, but she didn't have the heart to tell Tasha some of the threads were loose along the bottom. Probably why it was on clearance.

Although Jo had never confided in another living person about it, she was unquestionably a lesbian. Unproven of course, but she was undeniably attracted to women, and when some of the women she knew looked like Tasha, it could drive her more than a little nuts. Her strict Catholic upbringing kept Jo from ever proclaiming or acting upon these impulses. But seeing Tasha now in that tight sweat, her braless breasts practically shrink-wrapped in the material, those impulses started to act on her.

As they started walking back to Tasha's apartment, she told Jo about the sordid events of that morning. The crazy gypsy girl. Her perverted professor trying to look up her skirt, and how her skirt seemed to get shorter and short in response. About falling over that goth chick and ripping down her skirt. Having her panties in plain view of her whole class, and then losing her panties in the hallway. Her blouse exploding, her bra breaking, her skirt ripping, and the whole lurid display she made on the sidewalk. Retelling the story was making Tasha relive the humiliation. It was also making Jo's panties soaking wet! Probably not the reaction Tasha was looking for...

While Tasha spilled her guts, Jo coyly gave her a look over. God, her tits looked SO good in that sweater, bouncing freely. And those jeans really showed off Tasha's perfect ass. The rode so low the top of Tasha's ass hung out a bit, revealing her crack and the twin dimples above it. She really wasn't wearing any panties!

This was officially the most nudity Jo had ever seen Tasha reveal. Tasha was always very guarded with her body. She loved to tease with it, but always on her own terms and limits. Jo had never even seen her in her underwear, much to her dismay. The only time she even got a peek was when Tasha passed out drunk on Jo's couch, and Jo sneaked a little look. Magenta panties, she remembered fondly.

But now, nudity?! Losing her clothes bit by bit as gawking bystanders memorized every detail of her bared flawless body? And all because of some crazy gypsy curse?

"We should go kick that gypsy girl's ass!" Jo opined, hoping to divert any attention from her obvious arousal. 

"Hell yeah!" The idea sounded nicely off of Tasha's freshly restored confidence. Even if this whole curse thing was bullshit, tearing into that cocky bitch would blow off some steam.

Tasha quickened her pace, almost leaving Jo behind. She tugged her jeans up for the tenth time, trying to keep her ass covered for once today. With every tug up, the jeans settled back down, a little lower each time. If she wasn't paying her jeans much mind, it was because her sweater was rubbing her nipples, making them tender and sensitive. Tasha fought the urge to rub her aching breasts.

Jo was enjoying Tasha's exposed midriff, when she noticed something. The loose thread from the sweater, but this time it was trailing off behind Tasha, all the way to the end of the block. The thread kept unspinning, zipping back and forth across the hem of her sweater. Tasha seemed completely oblivious that her tummy was slowly being revealed, a fraction of an inch at a time. She was too busy ranting about that gypsy chick to notice.

Jo knew she should tell her. Tasha was her close friend, and after the humiliation she suffered this morning, she didn't need a second helping. On the other hand, Jo was feeling quite frustrated about not witnessing the incredible display. She'd been admiring Tasha's wondrous figure for as long as they've been friends, peeking down her tops, sneaking panty flashes up her skirts, even giving her the occasional back and foot massages just to feel her incredible skin. 

And now it was happening all over again! Tasha's clothes just seemed to be falling off of her, fulfilling Jo's secret lusty wishes. Jo knew it was wrong, but watching this erotic display unfold like a flower was more than she could deny.

The faster Tasha walked, the faster her jeans fell. Every few steps she would have to give them a strong pull, and it seemed like every pull made it harder to keep them up. Like she was stretching the denim out. The top of her peach-shaped ass was on almost continuous display. 

It was more than Jo could bear. Her panties were becoming wet to the point of embarrassment. If her knees weren't so weak, so would have tried to get a little ahead of Tasha and see what her naughty jeans were doing up front.

They had to run a bit to cross an intersection ahead of a speeding taxi cab. Tasha's bouncing tits were turning heads left and right, until her pants stole the spotlight. Almost all at once they dropped. Tasha managed to catch them in her clenched thighs, cowering over her vagina to shield it. Her bare ass was once again exposed to the bright noon sun. 

Jo could hear only two sounds; cat calls and fender benders all around. She was so enchanted by the silky forbidden flesh that she didn't realize Tasha was calling to her.




Jinxed!



"Jo! It's happening again! You've got to help me! Please!!" Jo snapped out of her trance and help pull up Tasha's jeans. The back of her hands slide along Tasha firm ass as she pulled the jeans over it. It was almost enough to make her cum right there.

Jo was starting to believe this curse thing might actually be real! Tasha's jeans seemed to have jumped up two sizes, almost magically. Even as Tasha desperately clutched them to her belly, Jo still had a clear view down the back, memorizing the naked assflesh.

They found a bathroom in a nearby caf. Tasha dove into the stall and locked the door, leaving Jo to imagine the scene. 

"Jo, what did you bring for extra clothes?"

"Oh, well, I wasn't sure what you needed the clothes for. I just grabbed a couple things as ran out the door."

"Well what do you have?!"

Jo handed her a pair of bright green track shorts, a T shirt, and some sneakers - the clothes she had planned on working out in that afternoon. 

"Oh my god! That's it?!"

"Tasha, I'm so sorry! I didn't know!" Jo thought for a moment about offeringher the clothes she was wearing, then decided to see how Tasha looked in these.

Jo listened intently; she could hear the jeans hit the floor. There was some prolonged grunting and straining. Eventually Tasha sheepishly opened the stall, revealing herself.

"The T shirt was too small..." Tasha whimpered. Jo was breathless. The track shorts may as well have been panties, they fit so tightly. Tasha's ass was only barely contained, and the way they hugged her crotch was pornographic. It looked almost painted on, showing the distinct swell of Tasha's sex. The leg holes were pulled so high that the shorts almost didn't cover her sex either. From behind, the bottom of her ass cheeks hung out. There was nothing to be done. Any attempt to pull the shorts down made her ass peek out the top. 

She tugged nervously at her sweater, not realizing that the bottom 3 inches were now strung across three blocks of the city. Oddly enough, the long sleeves and turtle neck of the sweater just made the exposed flesh on her belly and legs look all the more naked. The backpack didn't help, pulling her shoulders back and the sweater even tighter.

Jo had forgotten what beautiful long legs Tasha had. At least the sneakers fit.

Jo still could not think of a thing to say. She nervously gathered the jeans and boots into her bag. Tasha looked herself over in the mirror. Her face was already crimson. Jo tried to redirect her, hoping to see all of this play out.

"Let go teach that gypsy bitch a lesson!"

"Okay..."

They were only a block from the farmer's market. For Tasha it seemed like an endless march of cold breezes and hot stares. The short were riding up on her in the most uncomfortable ways, but it was a slight more modest than the clown pants her jeans had turned into. 

Tasha had found her anger again. They made a beeline for the gypsy both. The gypsy girl was there, and once she caught sigh of Tasha in her ludicrous outfit, almost fell over laughing. Tasha pushed her way through the crowds and closed in for the kill.

Suddenly, the gypsy girl pounced on her. Fast as a viper, she had her hand up Tasha's sweater, squeezing her bare tit. Tasha squealed! The crowd's attention quickly focused on this pretty girl in the odd yet slutty outfit getting molested by some crazy gypsy girl.

"You like showing yourself, yes? You like it so much, it makes you so hot. The more you show, the more you fight it, the hotter you get, yessss," the gypsy girl hissed in her ear. Jo heard the whole thing. Could this voodoo crap really be true?

Tasha managed to pull the girl's hand out of her sweater and step away. It was different this time. So much more intense. She felt dizzy. Where was Jo? All she could see were strangers' faces. Lusty eyes searching her body, probing, memorizing ever detail of her most intimate features. 

Before today, no man had ever seen her body naked. By lunchtime she had been exposed to dozens and dozens of complete strangers. Perhaps even hundreds or thousands, if those camera phones had made it to the internet by now. Her breasts, her ass, even her most private places of all, accidentally bared to all against her most chaste intentions.

Tasha felt an intense change coming over her, like a fever. Her skin felt hot and damp. The butterflies in her tummy returned, but more intense and spread out. Her head spun, her legs felt rubbery. She ached and tingled all at once - it almost felt... good?

Jo watched the transformation of Tasha. She was flush, although she had been various shades of crimson all morning. This was different. Tasha's lips and cheeks swelled and flushed. Her eyelids drooped as if she were drunk. Her knees buckled and hips swayed. Jo knew the look. It was the look of sexual arousal. Tasha was looking like Jo felt.

Tasha's thighs spasmed, her knees clenched. She toppled into Jo's arms, pressing her sweating face into Jo's breasts. 

"Jo... I can't... don't let... don't let all these people... see... me... naked.... So humiliated... Please," Tasha whimpered. If Tasha was trying to keep her dignity, she was blowing it. She was delirious, her face pressed into Jo's tits, her ass out and back arched. Her legs wobbled like a newborn deer.

The crowd swarming to this spectacle was growing every second. Boys shouted lewd comments. Girls snickered among their friends. People pointed, laughed, and snapped more and more pictures.

What happened next blew Jo's mind. The gym shorts, which were snug on Tasha's womanly hips before, now became dangerously tight. They squeezed into her flesh, until savage rips opened up along the seams on each hip. Right up to the elastic. The nylon shorts quickly became nylon bikini panties. They slid into Tasha's ass, forming a sharp V shape. Jo could only image the pressure the nylon crotch was putting on Tasha's vulva.

"Oh god... please, Jo, please... all these people... they can see my- my... oohh... I've never been so..." As much as Jo knew she was enjoying the feeling of Tasha rubbing her face in Jo's much-neglected tits, she knew she had to get her friend out of there.

They fled across a crosswalk, Tasha barely keeping her legs under her. Luckily the gawking mob decided to hang back a little, and watch the show from across the street. 

Tasha was becoming too overwhelmed to walk any more. Jo leaned her up against a building a dug out her jeans. It took quit a bit of maneuvering to get Tasha's trembling legs back into them. Jo found herself just a few inches from Tasha's crotch. She couldn't help but look. The nylon was completely soaked! Jo could see glistening moisture on her inner thighs.

That gypsy girl really had compounded Tasha's humiliation with unbridled lust! Jo couldn't help but get a little wet in sympathy. Without her glasses, Tasha could only dimly make out the passersby that were looking her over and ogling at her distress. The anxiety was only amplifying the throbbing tingle in the base of her belly. 

She managed to get Tasha's jeans back on her, but they were still far too loose to stay up. She needed a belt or something. Jo had no choice but to improvise - she pulled a good three feet of thread from the bottom of her sweater, further exposing her tummy, and used it to lash her waistband tight enough to stay on.

"Jo... don't do that... my tits... don't let them see me..." Tasha pulled compulsively at her sweater, which was coming dangerously close to revealing the bottoms of her breasts.

It would have to do. Jo grabbed her by the hand and dragged her down the busy sidewalk. They still had several blocks to go to Tasha's apartment. People were staring at Tasha's peculiar yet sexy attire, which was forcing her deeper into her drunken haze of arousal.

After only half a block, Tasha pulled Jo to a stop. The thread had snapped, and Tasha's pants had fallen down around her feet. Tasha pressed her hand over her crotch, perhaps to cover up the shorts riding up, or perhaps for some other purpose.

"Unnh... Jo... my pants... my pants.... They're falling off" she moaned. Her sexual delirium was becoming infectious, and Jo was having a hard time thinking straight. This time she pulled three times as much thread off the sweater to tie up the pants. The undersides of her tits were clearly visible under the quickly disappearing sweater.

Unfortunately, Jo had to pull this repair job off in front of a Starbucks. Tasha could see the dozens of coffee drinkers watching her embarrassing ordeal like it was a movie.

"Jo..! They can see me... my sweater... my tits... they're too big for... this sweater!" Jo was trying to do right by her friend, but she had to wonder if subconsciously, she was only making things worse for her own gratification.

Jo pulled Tasha along as fast as she dared, but a block later, the threads snapped and the pants dropped to the sidewalk. Those tiny green nylon shorts looked like they were going to rip right off Tasha's aching sex any second now.

"Tasha, sweetheart, I need you to hold your pants up, okay?" She guided Tasha's hand to the front of her jeans.

"Okay... okay... I can't take much... much more..."

They marched onward across the city. Jo's brisk pace kept Tasha's tits in a constant bounce, threatening to fall right out of the half sweater. With Jo pulling her along by her left hand, Tasha's right hand was free to hold her pants up or her sweater down, but not both. 

Tasha fought desperately to keep her pants on, but if she pulled hard, if put way too much pressure down there. Things were reaching a boiling point. Tasha was in danger of losing complete control of herself. She knew she had to keep those jeans on, but she could feel the draft on her ass and thighs. So she pulled harder, and the mind-clouding sensations from her bits got even more intense. Tasha bit her lip to contain the moans and sighs. It was getting harder to walk. Something was holding her legs together again.

Tasha was slowing down again. Jo looked back fully expecting to see Tasha's jeans around her ankles once again. What she did not expect to see was Tasha, pulling and jerking up on the nylon shorts, driving wet crotch deeper and deeper between her exposed labia. Tasha looked like she was in heat.

"Trying... to keep... the pants up... trying... so hard... so hard..." The poor girl thought she was pulling up her jeans, but instead wound up viciously molesting herself with the gym shorts. People were scandalized. Some woman screamed. Someone else was calling the police. 

Tasha could no longer stop herself. Her right hand flexed and tugged at the waistband, desperate for relief. Her left hand pulled the turtleneck over her face, hoping to muffle her moans and hide her identity. What it also did was pull her sweater up, letting the hard pink nipples on her pull tits fall into public view. Her tits quivered in time with the spasms racking her beautiful body.

"Oh my god! Tasha!!" Jo dove for the jeans, hoping she could somehow recover a shred of her friend's humility before she masturbates on a crowded NY street corner. Down on her knees, Jo found her nose just inches from Tasha's glistening sex, the green nylon swallowed by the swollen lips. After all these years of sexual repression, Jo suddenly found herself where she had always fantasized being. Too bad it was on a crowded city sidewalk, with her friend humiliating herself because of a gypsy curse.

Tasha was just seconds from sweet release. She was mortified by her loss of control, like she was watching herself in a movie that she could not stop. She was putting on a pornographic display in public that she would not dare at home, all by herself, but these nylon shorts were bringing her to a level of ecstasy her hand or even her back massager could never accomplish.

"Nyaah!" she cried. Tasha wrenched at the shorts, and they gave, splitting right at the crotch. Jo had a front row seat, watching the nylon rip in half and Tasha's most delicate treasure, soaking and pink, revealed itself to her. In her effort, Tasha lost her balance falling backwards, her wet sex landing on Jo's face. The two spilled over onto the sidewalk.

Amidst the catcalls, insults and angry remarks of the crowd, Jo rushed to recover herself and her friend before the cops arrived. She pulled Tasha to her feet. The gym shorts were now more than a minuscule hula skirt. Her face drenched with Tasha's juices, Jo pulled Tasha's sweater back down, her jeans back up, and literally dragged her out of the scene by the seat of her pants. 

Tasha was still delirious, but somehow managed to keep her legs pumping. By now traffic was stopped all around. They had an entourage of perverts close behind. Tasha's pathetic sweater was doing nothing to cover her bouncing tits, so Jo took it upon herself to do it. One fat firm tit cupped in each hand, with her face pressed into Tasha's backpack. It was too much for Jo to resist - she did a little more than cover those magnificent breasts, squeezing them and pinching the nipples between her fingers.

"Jooo... oh my god.... not in front... so many people... my tits, Jo..." Tasha was doing a half-assed (literally) job of keeping her jeans up, surrendering flashes of her neatly trimmed bush as the two girls jogged awkwardly down the street. 

At long last they came to Tasha's apartment building. Tasha braced herself against the building as if waiting for a cop to frisk her, legs spread, ass out. Jo searched through her backpack, looking for the keys. Jo found the keys as Tasha pants feel completely, coiling at her feet. 

"Stop looking... please... don't look at me! Noooo..." She clenched her thighs against the potent mixture of lust and humiliation. Jo got the door open. Tasha ran right out of her jeans and into the building.

Jo rushed Tasha up the stairs as quickly as possible. The poor girls was reduced to a tattered sweater that did nothing to covered her round tits, and a shred of green nylon about her waist that hung like a "jungle girl" costume.

Tasha collapsed in her bed, exhausted. Jo pulled the remains of the turtleneck off and threw it away. She took back her sneakers, and the gym short she snipped off with a pair of scissors and kept as a souvenir. Although there was the temptation to fulfill a few more fantasies while she had this incredible opportunity, Jo already felt a little guilty about the liberties she took. Besides, she had a feeling this would not be the last time this would happen.

When the crowds outside the building door thinned out, Jo left. 

Tasha slept for several hours, and awoke completely confused. Firstly, she was sleeping completely nude - something Tasha never did. But was the rest of it just an awful dream? It was so vivid and humiliating! Everything was a blur, and her head was still swimming.

She checked the clock - 6 pm. She forced herself out of bed and into the shower. She had to be at her waitressing job by 8. It was time for Tasha to go to work!

Part Three -- Work

The longer Tasha thought about it, the more she realized the day's events were no dream. Through some kind of cursed misfortune, she had her partially naked body exposed on the crowded streets of New York City. All the other students she shares classes with, those tourists, those people with cameras, all of those eyes, drinking in her humiliation as her clothes fell apart around her... 

Even though she was by herself in the relative safety of her apartment, she flushed with humiliation all over again. Someone must have taken pictures of her ordeal. They were probably on the internet already. Before today, she could count the number of men that had seen or touched her breasts on one hand, and most of them were doctors. Now countless numbers of strangers were ogling her breasts, lewdly falling out of that damn sweater or her poor blouse. Or her bare bottom... or other places Tasha had never shown anyone.

She was also feeling rather sensitive down there, as if her reddened embarrassment was flowing to the source. It had only felt like this once before, when she had spent an evening experimenting with her mother's back massager. Tasha gingerly probed herself with her pinky, discovering that she was not only very sensitive- she was wet.

What exactly had happened to her? She remembered losing her panties- God only knows who had them now. And then she remembered some shorts, little ones that squeezed her too tight. Her phone was gone, so she couldn't call Jo for the details.

Tasha slipped on some pajamas while she contemplated her dilemma. She just needed to feel safely clothed and modest. This might be her last chance to.

Another other problem was, after buying those clothes (which were now ruined) Tasha was completely broke. She absolutely had to go to work that night. It was a sweet job, waitressing in an upscale restaurant called Munich. On a good night, she could clear almost $1000 in tips. As much as the thought of more public embarrassment terrified her, she could no afford to lose such a lucrative job.

Could it be she really was cursed? That there was some dark magic trying to expose her body and humiliate her? Tasha tried to remember what that crazy gypsy girl said when she grabbed her boob. Something about showing herself off. Maybe if she was showing herself off a little, the curse would make so she was showing off a lot? So maybe if she dressed as conservatively as possible, she wouldn't show off anything, the curse would just leave her alone. 

She had been wearing the pajamas for a little while now, and nothing had happened. All buttons buttoned, and her bottoms fit securely at her waist. If she dared step outside, she would probably be rendered completely nude in under a minute. So the curse only worked if someone was looking at her, checking her out. Her professor tried to look up her skirt, and the skirt got shorter. People looked down her blouse, and the blouse burst open. If she could keep dirty old men from ogling her, she should be just fine 

The uniform for a waitress at Munich was simple. A tuxedo shirt, cut to flatter a woman's form. A black skirt, and their signature piece, black stockings with the seam running up the back. Tasha thought that was kinda stupid at first, but she had to admit, there was a certain old school sexiness about it. Plus she had the legs to pull it off, and that didn't hurt her tips any.

Unfortunately, avoiding sexual attention in that outfit at that restaurant was pretty much impossible. It seemed like the richer the man, the ruder the man, not to mention some of the perverted women that come in there! Plus the cooks in the kitchen. Some of the waiters, and even the busboys. Tasha's had her ass pinched and slapped, her tits squeezed, canes and umbrellas used to pull up her skirt. She's been pulled onto strange men's laps, had her bra snapped, and had men try and stick cash in her cleavage.

If this morning was any indication of what tonight was going to be like, Tasha was about to go from the frying pan right into the fire. Sadly she had no choice! Tasha had to be prepared. She went through her wardrobe, and settle on the clothes that would most like stay on her as long as possible.

There wasn't much to do about the skirt and the tuxedo blouse. She only had two of each, and they were identical pairs. The skirts were fine. Not too tight, and the came almost to her knees. The blouses were a little form fitting, not quite as baggy as she would have preferred, but the buttons seemed sturdy enough.

For lingerie, she settled on a black corset and panty set. Since the panties were black, they would blend in should her skirt rip, or some dirty old man gets a look up there. Unfortunately they were a little high cut. Not a problem for her normally, but when dressing under the threat of supernatural stripping, a girl has to consider such things. The corset was perfect. It had a bout a zillion hooks up the back, and suspenders to keep her stockings up.. She hardly wore it because it took so long to put on, so it was practically brand new. It encased her boobs like a suit of armor, although since it gave her so much lift, it also made her boobs look even bigger. Tasha also had misgivings about wearing a black bustier under a white blouse, but if that was her worst faux pas tonight, she would be lucky!




Jinxed!



Tasha got dressed, and packed an extra blouse and skirt in her backpack. 

She took a long look at herself in the mirror. The bustier was making her tits look even bigger than normal, but the blouse was handling it well enough. Skirt looked okay, and her stockings were straight. At least there would be other attractive young girls there to take some of the attention off of her.

Tasha threw on her black pumps, a long overcoat, a hat, and sunglasses. She was almost completely concealed, although she looked like some paparazzi phobic celebrity. At least it would shield from lusty gazes, and keep anyone from recognizing her from this morning.

She set out from her apartment timidly. She had no money for a cab or even the subway so she was hoofing it. So far so good. She got a few funny looks for wearing such a heavy coat in 70 degree weather, but her clothes were staying in place. This was the easy part. When she got to work, she had to take the coat off. And that's when things could get tricky.

Amazingly enough, she made it all the way across town to Munich without incident. She got there a little early, hoping to do most of her setup work before most of the cooks and other waiters got there. She stashed her coat and bag in the coat room.

After a brisk walk in a heavy coat, Tasha felt all sweaty and gross. She snuck into the walk-in refrigerator to cool off. The cooks loved to send the waitresses in here, because it made their nipple harden and poke at their blouses. Luckily the stiff cups of her bustier prevented her tightened nipples from humiliating her.

Feeling refreshed, Tasha was ready to take on her setup duties. Her task was to lightly oil the handmade wooden tables in her section. Simple, right?

The only person in the kitchen was Manny, a shy young teenager who couldn't speak a word of English. Manny earned himself a reputation among the waitress for trying to peek down their blouses when they were bending over. Still, he seemed nice enough, and never made any kind of advance. Tasha waved hello and reached up for the restaurant-size can of oil on the top shelf. 

Maybe someone didn't put the cap on right, or got oil on the outside of the can, or maybe it was just some gypsy curse. All Tasha knew was that damn jug slipped right out of her fingers, tumbling in the air in slow motion. She quickly caught it, clutching it to her chest - upside down!

Tasha screamed in shock at this slick sensation of the cool oil splashing against her neck and chest. The glugging sound of oil pouring made her heart sink. The next of the can found its way into her open collar, and the oil was pouring right into her cleavage, making a funnel of her tits. She could feel it creeping down the bustier, into her skirt and panties, even down her thighs. 

She quickly dropped the can, but it was far too late. Thick streaks of oil ran down her stockinged legs, raining onto the tile kitchen floor. Manny just stared at her for a moment, dumbstruck. The growing pool of oil between her feet caused Tasha to slip wildly. She tried to steady herself, but the floor was like ice, and she quickly collapsed to the floor.

Tasha's blouse had become transparent and painted to her skin. She was torn between covering herself and trying to get back on her feet. Her feet and hands couldn't find a hold on the floor. After what seemed like hours, Manny snapped out of his horny gaze and helped her up. Still unsteady on her oily pumps, Tasha grabbed her bag and ran to the employee washroom. 

The blouse was ruined, the front was almost invisible. The skirt wasn't much better. Work hadn't even officially started, and already had to use her spare skirt and blouse. Tasha stripped down in a hurry. The other servers would be coming in soon, and there was just the one bathroom.

Oil was literally pooled in the valley between her breasts. It slowly oozed down, forming a slick membrane between her skin and the corset. The stream of oil trickled into her panties, saturating them. If this hadn't been such a traumatic day, the sensation of wet slippery panties between her legs would almost be pleasant and arousing.

Her stockings were streaked with oil, and she had no spares. Tasha decided to do something radical- she rubbed her oily blouse up and down her legs. It evened out the streaks completely, and the feeling of her oiled legs brushing against each other was rather nice.

Tasha used some paper towels to mop up as much of the excess oil as possible. She didn't have time to remove her corset, and unfortunately, that seemed to be where most of the oil had ended up. She cleaned up as much as she could and dressed in the fresh blouse and skirt. Luckily none of the oil landed in her hair or make up, but a couple of small glob of oil hit her glasses. The crappy soup in the washroom was no match for it, and no matter how hard she scrubbed them, there seemed to be a light film over the lenses. Nevertheless, she finished dressing- everything looked fine. Luckily the black lingerie and skirt hid the color, but they couldn't hide the slippery sensation of oil all down her body. 

"Curse, my ass!" she said, proud of her quick recovery.

Perhaps the curse heard her, or perhaps the smudges on her glasses kept her from noticing the condition of her fresh blouse. The corset had soaked up a tremendous amount of oil, more that a quick once-over with cheap paper towels could hope to remove. Now that oil was slowly soaking her new blouse, rendering it transparent and sticking it right to her body.

Tasha tied on her small black apron and headed back to her tasks. She heard acidic shouting from the kitchen - Estelle was in.

Estelle was the self-appointed manager of Munich. In reality, she was the trophy wife of the owner, and once a fairly famous NY fashion model. A little plastic surgery and a lot of Pilates kept her in shape, although the years had definitely padded out her boobs and ass. 

Between her supermodel attitude and her statuesque 6 foot 2 frame, Estelle was a very intimidating woman. She couldn't give a shit about the food, but she was obsessed with how the servers looked. The whole stockings thing was especially important. She'd been known to yank the skirt up on any negligent waitress who didn't keep her seams straight, and straightened them out herself. Perhaps a direct technique from her modeling days, or perhaps she just enjoyed humiliating young women in front of the rest of the staff.

"Dammit, what a terrible day for that bitch to be on the warpath!" Tasha took a moment to make sure her stockings looked perfect. The looked okay, but the oil made them feel wet and weird. They would probably slip and twist as the night went on - Tasha would be wise to keep an eye on them.

She took a deep breath, and hoped that the fates would be gentle on her...

Prof. Raleigh was soaking up his celebrity among his perverted compatriots. Prof. Tanaka and Dr. Spunkmeyer had heard the rumors around campus of the demure coed losing her clothes in Raleigh's class, and again on the street. Images had been e-mailed back and forth, Raleigh had recounted his testimony again and again for them in the most minute detail. 

The three of them had formed an unofficial club of perversion, dedicated to voyeurism in a college bursting with luscious young women. 

Prof. Tanaka gave up a very lucrative position in his home of Japan to come teach in the states. He is a die-hard breast man, and Tokyo is a terrible place to be one. At least in America he is surrounded by curvaceous, well-endowed young women. 

He gave tests and quizzes with incredible frequency so that he could look over the shoulders of his more ample students on the pretense of watching for cheating, but really so he could stare down their tops. He was also known to "accidentally" brush against the chests of some women. Rumor has it Tanaka left Japan after allegations that he was accidentally brush against a diplomat's wife at a formal dinner.

Dr. Spunkmeyer was a legend among academic perverts. Although almost 70, he used his age as leverage to get attractive women to assist him, and thereby cop a feel. 

Despite his age, the good doctor was a master of electronics. He walked with a cane (which he didn't need) which was mounted with a pinhole camera. He had even developed a small electromagnet about the size of a joy buzzer that, when properly used, could draw down zippers and unhook bras from a foot away. He truly was the James Bond of dirty old men.

Prof. Raleigh had retrieved Tasha's cell phone from the Goth tramp just a short while ago, and was very pleasantly surprised to see the Goth had snapped a picture of Tasha's ordeal, and made it the wallpaper. It was a beautiful shot. Her body twisted, serpentine, caught between cowering for modesty and running for escape. He skirt, hoisted well over her full round ass. He blouse burst open, her breast bouncing wildly in her mad flight. Her eyes wide, her lips and cheeks rosy with humiliation. 

Spunkmeyer was already printing more photos off the internet, creating a sexy documentary of the whole miraculous event. Still, nothing compared with Raleigh's first-hand account.

Tanaka and Spunkmeyer were well-familiar with the infamous Tasha, having seen her nigh-perfect body gliding across campus. Infamous, because before today, Tasha seemed to have an uncanny ability to thwart their every effort at perversion. She crossed her legs with vise-like strength, obscuring even the slightest view of her panties. She used her books and backpack as coverage for her perfect breasts, preventing even the slightest peek at her cleavage. It was like Tasha knew these guys were world-class perverts, and knew every way to stymie them. 

The he pulled out the show-stopper- the tattered panties. He laid them out on the desk in his office as if it was the shroud of Turin. An hourglass of delicate translucent fabric, savagely ripped at its thin lacy waistband.

This was a moment of unparalleled triumph, perhaps the greatest Raleigh had even known since her first peeped up his grade school teacher's skirt so many years ago. His peers were in awe of him, and strove to bask in his glory and good fortune. 

Even that curmudgeon Spunkmeyer was swept up in it. He pulled up her student records on his laptop, and his eyes lit up with mischief.

"My compatriots, it seems Miss Tasha has been earning her way through college by waitressing," he mused. "Perhaps we should pay her restaurant a visit tonight?"

Tasha had been at work for just under an hour now, and Munich was officially open for the evening. In that short time, she had more than a few ill omens that coming here tonight may have been a mistake. 

It didn't take long for her to discover her oil-soaked corset was making her blouse translucent. In addition to that, the slippery corset and the natural motion of her full hips were causing the corset to slide up her body, hefting her breasts out and giving her glistening cleavage worthy of a trashy novel cover.

The added attention to her tits among her coworkers assured, thanks to her curse, that her blouse was coming unbuttoned any time eyes were on it. Thankfully the buttons were still intact, but that terrible mix of butterflies in the stomach and burning humiliation was returning.

She didn't realize before just how much oil had seeped down her tummy and into her panties. They were slick with it, shifting and sliding across her ass and... other places. Under other circumstances, Tasha may have even enjoyed the sensual gliding of oily panties across her most intimate place, gently teasing her. Now, it just added to her humiliation. People would think she was a slut or something- she didn't need to go and prove them right.

Her skirt was misbehaving too. Riding up, getting snagged on her suspenders or caught up in her apron. In a restaurant, with all this moving around and bending over, it wasn't unusual for the girls to sometimes show a little more leg than they intended, and for the boys to tease them about it. But tonight Tasha was extra sensitive about it, and her demure shyness just seemed to egg the men on.

Tasha realized it was only a matter of time before something happened. He blouse explodes, her skirt falls off. Something. And she would be naked and humiliated in front of all her coworkers and a whole restaurant full of strangers. The anticipation was almost worse than the actual embarrassment.

Estelle hollered her name. Tasha yanked her skirt down reflexively. "Tasha, sweetheart, you've got a table- move it!"

Tasha crossed the restaurant to her section, trying to ignore the thick squishing of her panties with every step. The slippery little devils were sliding right between her cheeks, too- the beginning of quite an annoying wedgie. Then she saw who her first customers were...

Tasha's heart sank into dread inversely to the way Raleigh's, Tanaka's and Spunkmeyer's lit up with delight. 

Raleigh, of course, she knew. Her sleazy professor was perhaps her most humiliating witness to Tasha ordeal this afternoon. This smarmy old bastard hard more intimate knowledge of Tasha's young body than the most adept and charming frat boys. His unwelcome eyes on here know made her even more acutely aware of her slithering panties.

She's never had a class with Prof. Tanaka, but this would not be the first time she could feel his burning gaze fixed on her full chest. He had a knack for "crossing paths" with Tasha all around campus, especially cramped places where he might "accidentally" brush against her tits. Small coffee shops, the gym, the library. And of course, he now had his dirty eyes fixed on her cleavage now, served up in her overly ambitious bustier, blossoming out of a blouse that won't stay closed. 

Spunkmeyer, the old man, she didn't recognize. He looked sweet enough, but judging by the sleazy company he keeps, he must be one dirty old man.

"Ah, Miss Tasha! One of my most prized pupils," Prof Raleigh sang. His companions snickered knowingly.

"Hello, Professor..." Tasha murmured, eyes lowered. She rubbed her thighs together nervously, perhaps to distract herself, and perhaps subconsciously, she was captivated by their oily slickness. It was also causing her panties to ride higher and higher into her well-lubricated private places. Tasha, however was too preoccupied with the certainty that, unless she did something, she would certain end up naked and humiliated in front of these horrid old men.

Tasha took their drink orders and turned to leave.

"Miss Tasha, one moment! I have something you lost today" Raleigh said. Her blood ran cold- she had lost quite a few things that day, her modesty not being the least.

He placed her cell phone on the table. She couldn't help but give him a sheepish smile as she recovered her phone. It wasn't his fault all these bad things were happening to her, right? At least he was doing the nice thing by returning her phone, and she gladly picked it up.

"What?" The only word to escape her lips. The dirty old bastard had put some kind of nudie porn picture on her phone! Some trashy slut with her skirt hiked up and her fat tits hanging out, her face flushed with lust. Tasha spun around, ready to blast the filthy professor for his behavior, until something in that dirty photo struck her as... familiar.

The skirt... the blouse... the girl in the photo is herself! She'd never seen herself in such a heated, humiliated display, and by now, half the city- no, half the world had! The electrified tingling in the pit of her belly returned. Like this afternoon, but even stronger.

"My god..." He knees buckled in embarrassment.

"You're making me a believer, Miss Tasha." Raleigh grinned smugly.

Tasha slipped her phone into her apron. She felt like every eye in the restaurant was mentally undressing her, especially the three pairs around her right now.

She rushed away with their drink orders, nervously tugging at her blouse and skirt to safeguard what little was left of her modesty. There was no way Tasha could handle another ordeal by herself - she needed backup.

Today was far and away the most sexually exciting day in Jo's young life. On the one hand, she was very proud of herself for protecting her friend through such a... humiliating experience. On the other, she could kick herself for not taking advantage of that nude goddess, driven to heat and nearly nude.

Jo was currently expressing that frustration alone in her bedroom, bent over her dresser. Naked except for some periwinkle blue cotton panties. One hand was furiously at work inside those panties. The other held the tattered remains of her green gym shorts up to her nose... 

In her mind, Jo ran and reran that movie over and over again, of the goddess Tasha, so chaste and pure, today trying to pleasure herself against her own will on a crowded New York City sidewalk, using the gym shorts now pressed to Jo's face.

She could feel an orgasm building, and fast. It was well deserved, too. Jo resisted the urge to pleasure herself right there in Tasha's apartment as her exhausted crush slept off her humiliating day.

Her cell phone rang. Jo would have ignored it, but Tasha's name was on the ID.

"Hello?" She tried to not sound breathless.

"Jo, it's me, Tasha." She sounded timid.

"Are you okay"

"Jo, it's happening again." 

"What is?" Jo knew damn well what was happening, but she wanted to hear Tasha describe it.

"That curse... I spilled oil on myself. Now my blouse is see-through. And the oil is in my panties, and they're slipping around. And these old men keep leering at me. And this stupid curse, it's making me... making me..."

"Making you...?"

"...horny" Tasha whispered. "I can't sop it and its driving me CRAZY."

"Where are you?"

"Work."

"I'm on my way."

Jo threw on a long white linen skirt and a pink tank top. She would not miss this show for the world.

Tasha felt some relief that Jo was coming to help see her through this. She gathered up the old bastards' drinks and brought them over.

Those old men probed every inch of her with their perverted eyes. Her translucent blouse, doing little to hide her exotic corset or ample bust. Her black skirt, riding ever-higher over her full hips and round bottom.

With one hand carrying the tray, and the other passing out drinks, she could not adjust her blouse or skirt, leaving her at the mercy of the men and the curse. Her stocking tops peeking into view made her nervous and anxious. She rushed to hand Raleigh her drink, and nearly lost her balance, and the top button of her blouse. 

"Careful, deary!" Spunkmeyer was quick to steady her with a hand around her waist. In truth, he was looking for a chance to apply specially designed electromagnet. It was wired into a simple leather glove, and could unhook a woman's bra in a fraction of second. Spunkmeyer was especially adroit with it, although he had never attempted anything as ambitious as a full corset.

Tasha felt the nasty old man's hand across her back, and the slight tug around her midsection, but she had no clue that half the hooks of her elaborate corset had just come undone. Nor that she had lost a button, her blouse now showing the lacy edges of each bra cup, as well as a dangerous amount of cleavage.

Tasha noticed her corset was fitting a bit more comfortably. Her breasts had settled down to a more natural height. 

The three men barraged her with questions about the entrees, the appetizers, the salads, the wines, everything and anything on the menu. Tasha did her best to answer them, but it was quite clear men were stalling, keeping her around to enjoying her impending misfortune.

She rubbed her slick thighs together anxiously. She couldn't wait to be away from these horrid men, and she was aware that even though they were repellant, their lecherous gazes were driving her to a fever. What she was NOT aware of was Spunkmeyer's pinhole camera between her knees, or its live feed to the laptop in front of Raleigh. 




Jinxed!



"Black. Satan." He said aloud.

Tasha immediately knew they could somehow see her panties, and fled the table in mid-sentence.

She rushed across the main floor of the restaurant, her tits bouncing even more than before. All eyes were on her. Wealthy patrons, her coworkers, everyone. But she was quite glad to be away from those hideous creeps. 

Tasha hid at the far end of the bar and caught her breath. Her loosened corset was no longer supporting her stockings, which were becoming crooked and twisted... something Estelle had just noticed.

Estelle HATED Tasha. Nothing personal, but Estelle simply could not abide another woman being so young and attractive in her presence. Add to that the fact that the three months Tasha had worked for her, her stockings had always been impeccable, along with the rest of her entire. Which meant that Estelle had never had an excuse to yank her skirt up and humiliate her in front of a crowded restaurant. This fact was also lamented by many of the regulars. But today, that all changed. 

The poor girl was a mess today. Distracted, disheveled, distraught, and her stockings. Tsk tsk tsk. Estelle moved in like a lioness going for the kill. In a motion she had committed a thousand times, Estelle snatched the hemline of Tasha's skirt, and yanked it clear to her waste, baring her black satin panties to the entire restaurant.

Tasha screamed!

Many of the patrons roared and cheered, realizing what a momentous occasion this was.

"Miss Tasha, this is NOT how we present ourselves here at Munich!" 

"Okay! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Tasha pulled down furiously at her skirt, trying at the very least to cover her crotch, which was calling for her attention more than ever.

Estelle definitely exposed the young beauty longer that should would any of the other waitresses, but when she tried to relent, she found her sleeve was stuck! The buttons on the cuff of her blouse had become snagged on the undone hooks of Tasha's corset! Tasha struggled to escape from Estelle, tugging at her blouse.

"Stop fidgeting! My blouse is caught!" Another wave of cheers from the restaurant. This was getting even better.

"Get it out! Let go!" Tasha was flushed red. It took all her strength to keep the front of her skirt over her panties, let alone her bare thighs. Estelle jerked her backwards like a naughty dog on a leash.

"Stop it! Let me get uncaught." Estelle snaked her free hand up the young girl's skirt, but Tasha could not stay still. As if answering the silent prayers of a dozen patrons, Estelle's other cuff became bound to Tasha's failing corset, her hands pressed against the girl's pantied ass.

"Goddamit! Stop wiggling around!" Estelle snapped. "This blouse costs more than you earn in a week!" With both of her sleeves caught, Estelle couldn't reach the offending hooks to free herself.

Tasha fell across a bar stool, her ass pointed in the air. The pair of them officially had the undivided attention of the entire restaurant. The customers were on their feet. The kitchen staff had come out to watch. Splayed doggy-style across the stool, Tasha covered her reddening face with her hands.

Estelle was growing flustered herself. The struggle had pulled her expensive blouse free from her skirt, exposing the pale flesh of her trim tummy. In her frustration, Etelle began tugging hard at the corset.

"Stop it! Stop it!! You're pulling me... out of my... my...!" Tasha'a unbridled arousal was making it hard for her to catch her breath. Her corset was sliding down her body, aided by the thin layer of oil. Estelle tugged again, and Tasha's breasts sprang free, her thin, oil-soaked blouse making that obvious to everyone in sight.

Tasha's panties were soaked with cursed excitement. With Estelle's hands barely an inch away from her privates, it was only a matter of time until... Estelle's hand slipped between Tasha's thighs and felt the moisture across her panties.

"Oh my God! Are you getting off on this?!" Estelle ran her middle finger up and down the crotch of the young girl's wet panties, probing Tasha's eager lips.

"Stop it! Stop touching me there!" Tasha screamed. The truth was it felt good, too good. It took all of Tasha's will not to lean back into the evil woman's exploring fingers.

"You are! You dirty slut!" Estelle gave the poor girls swollen clit a playful poke. Tasha spasmed in response, her right breast popping free from her blouse. That mean bitch's fingers were doing what Tasha had been wanting to do to herself for the past hour, but not like this. Not bent over doggy style in the middle of a posh NY restaurant, with dozens of patrons reveling in her ecstasy and debasement.

"Unh! No! Pleeease!" Tasha needed to be away from here, NOW. She pushed off the bar stool, ready to run, pulling Estelle's blouse even higher.

"No you don't! You're ripping my blouse!" Estelle pulled the younger, smaller woman back, lifting Tasha off her feet. The poor young waitress collapsed to her hands and knees. Estelle's blouse jerked higher still, the well-filled cups of her lacy bra peeking out.

"I'll pull this damn corset off of you right here in front of everyone if I have to!" Estelle grabbed the corset with her hands and gave a ferocious pull. Tasha felt the corset slide at least six inches, the empty cups now down around her navel.

"NO! Let go of me!" Still on her hands and knees, Tasha scrambled to tray and escape. Estelle pulled her right back. Tasha's corset gave another few inches, but so did Estelle's blouse, tangling around her armpits and neck. Both women were caught in Tug of War at the cost of their own clothes.

This was the scene as Jo walked into the restaurant. Even after the day's events this was pretty shocking. She hid herself behind a potted plant by the restrooms to watch.

Tasha was on all fours, her skirt around her waist and one breast bouncing free of her white blouse. She had some kind of corset on, but some attractive older woman was trying to pull it down over Tasha's hips. The older woman herself was losing her blouse in the fight, her fat tits and white lace bra on display for the very receptive crowd.

Tasha's face was red with a potent mix of embarrassment and sexual excitement. She was clearly caught between two impulses - the urge to run and hide and the urge to come right there and find relief.

Tasha's modesty won out. She kicked backwards, knocking Estelle on her ass and out of her blouse. She somehow pulled herself to her feet, despite the fact that her corset was now tightly wrapped around her knees.

Now sharing in Tasha's humiliation, Estelle crossed her arms over her bra and tits, and fled for the kitchen. Tasha's escape would not be so simple.

With the corset and blouse tangled around her legs, Tasha could only take the tiniest steps. As she tried to right her skirt, she discovered her panties were missing as well, no doubt dragged down by the corset. She fixed her skirt, but not before giving the entire restaurant a teasing glimpse of her bubble butt and natural gold trim. Her stuttered walking was making her tits - especially the one bare tit, bouncing wildly.

Through the steamed-up lenses of her glasses, Tasha spotted the errant breast, and quickly slipped it back in her blouse, for what little did it good. The missing button gave way to an impressive expanse of young, quivering cleavage. The still-oily fabric traced every curve of her torso, including her taut nipples.

For what seemed like an eternity, Tasha minced across the open floor of Munich, disheveled and dizzy with lust and embarrassment. She shielded her face from sight. Jo could stand it not more, and rushed to Tasha's aid. 

"Jo! Oh thank God! Please! I'm losing all my clothes again... and... and..."

It's making you horny, Jo completed her statement silently. As Jo crouched to untangled the knotted of corset and panties and blouse, Jo caught a whiff of that familiar perfume. That scent she had just been enjoying rather intimately not an hour before. In compliance with the curse, as Tasha's humiliation increased, so did her arousal.

As Jo fought to liberate her, Tasha could feel hundreds of eyes exploring her body. With one hand she fought to keep her rising hemline in place, but the hexed skirt was obeying the will of countless perverted strangers, tightening and shrinking across her hips.

Her other hand tried to cradle her ample breasts, protecting them from indecency. But she could feel her blouse tightening, forming gaping eyelets along the button, peeks at the bare flesh along her tummy.

And even with the gawking, gaping, grinning expressions of the patrons all around her, Tasha's mind returned again and again to Estelle's fingers inside her. 

"Uh...nyuh... oh my God... Jo, please hurry! I think I lost my panties... again." Tasha reflexively leaned to cover herself, putting her fevered sex just inches from Jo's face.

At long last Jo completely unhooked the corset. She opened up the full stride of her long legs, the stockings ripping free from the suspenders. At last unbound, Tasha ran- right out of her panties. Her bewitched skirt could not handle the strain - RIIIP! It tore up the seam right to the zipper- halfway up her bare bottom, flexing and jiggling as Tasha fled the dining room.

Jo leapt up after her, forgetting to retrieve the errant panties from the floor. She found Tasha in the cloak room, relatively unused this time of year, hiding behind a few abandoned coats in the back.

Tasha was a sight. Hair, tussled. Skin, flushed and sweaty. Her blouse unbuttoned - no, debuttoned right down almost to her belly, her high fat tits squeezing to peek out with every panting breath. Tattered stockings barely left on her legs, and a skirt that was destined to abandon and humiliate her. 

Tasha cupped her breast with other arm, the other crushing her skirt against her crotch. At first blush it looked like she was shielding her pantiless privates under her skirt. Then Jo realized she was pushing her palm into her crotch - into her clit! The curse was making her more and more aroused with every exposure, compounding her humiliation with sexual frustration!

"Did you find my panties?" Tasha whispered. Jo held up her empty hands, and Tasha pouted. "It's happening again, Jo. Everyone is going to see me naked!"

"No they won't, sweety!" Jo gave Tasha a hug - her skin was on fire!

"Jo, I can't go back out there without my underwear. I can't go home. I didn't bring any more panties..." she looked pleadingly to her friend. "Jo, could you give me your panties?"

Jo was dumbstruck! Out in the restaurant, they could still her commotion as various patrons and employees looked for the half-naked Tasha.

"You're not cursed! No one will see! Please Jo! I just want to go home!" Jo looked down at her long linen skirt. No one could really see up it. Nothing short of a tornado would blow it up. Plus the idea of the sexually overcharged goddess wearing her panties was more than a little exciting.

"Okay... turn around." Tasha turned to face the corner, giving Jo a free look at her bare behind between the split in her skirt.

Jo reached up her skirt, hooked her thumbs in the elastic, and slid off her panties. They were simple cotton panties. Bikini-cut. Light blue with little white polka-dots. And they were more than a little most from Jo's unfinished self-pleasuring.

Jo knelt down behind Tasha.

"Lift your foot," she commanded, and Tasha obeyed. "Don't touch the panties - I, uh, don't want the curse to make them rip..."

Jo slid the panties up and came to a shocking realization - these panties were far too small. Jo was a petite girl, with slight hips and a small but firm butt. Tasha was far more voluptuous, with sweeping hips and a full, round ass. By the middle of Tasha's thighs, the panties were straining.

"Um, my underwear is a little small on you..."

"Oh noooo... Can't you get the on? Please, Jo."

Jo wiggled them up an inch at the time. Tasha's bare thighs felt so smooth, almost slippery to her touch, and it helped the panties ascend.

She had to hike up Tasha's skirt to get the panties over the twin globes of her tush, putting Tasha's naked body once again just inches from Jo's face. The cotton panties were stretched thin. Jo yanked at them as much as she dared, and heard the material creak ominously.

"There... I think." Jo could pull them no higher. Unfortunately, Jo's itty bitty panties could only half-cover Tasha's ass. Between Tasha's thighs, Jo could see her underwear pulled tight between Tasha's glistening wet lips. The cotton was stretched so thin it was becoming translucent.

"Don't suppose I could borrow your bra?" Tasha joked.

"...not wearing one." Jo shrugged. 

Tasha looked back over her shoulder at Jo. "Jo, I can see your titties!" Jo inspected herself. Crouched down like that her tank top did hang away, revealing her pert little tits. Jo pulled out her right tit and stuck out her tongue at Tasha. Tasha giggled, thankful for the distraction.

"Okay, I'm just going to get my things, and we can leave." Tasha smoothed her skirt and held her blouse closed with one hand. As she ventured from the cloak room, Jo followed. Jo didn't want to think she was setting her friend up for a fall, but the imminent show would not be one to be missed.

The dining room had more or less returned to a normal calm. Her panties and undone bustier were gone from the center floor, no doubt in the possession of some pervert. Tasha was unaware of the damage to her skirt, and the peeks of creamy flesh and blue cotton panty through the rip were gaining some attention.

Her brisk pace was making Jo's panties ride up terribly. Tasha's didn't want to admit it, but she was rather well-lubricated right now, and the tiny panties were having their way with her.

Tasha tried to slip along the darker edge of the dining room - unfortunately, that path took her right past Prof. Raleigh's table.

"Miss Tasha! Oh Miss Tasha!" The dirty old bastard called to her. Against her better judgment, Tasha approached the table, still clutching her blouse closed. All three old men openly stared at her body with shameless lust.

"Are you leaving us, Miss Tasha?" She nodded yes.

"Fair enough, you are having quite a day, aren't you?" Tasha nodded again. "However, we never got the chance to tip you for your wonderful service..."

"That's okay. I have to go," Tasha tried to slip away.

"Wait! Wait!" Raleigh called. "We have a business proposal for you!" Livid, Tasha was tempted to slap the old pervert right there.

"No, no, you misunderstand, my dear." He protested. "We are gentlemen, and would never propose something so uncouth... However, we are simple men with simple appetites, and we would reward you handsomely for you're your lightest grace."

"Get to the point." Tasha was losing her patience. However, if she didn't bring home some cash tonight, she'd also be losing her apartment.

"We just want a little peek up that skirt," Spunkmeyer piped in. "A hundred bucks cash for ten seconds!"

At first, Tasha was scandalized. The dirty old men paying a girl just to peek up her skirt - it was like a form of prostitution! On the other hand, she was desperate for cash, and a little looksy up her dress was probably one of the more modest displays she's put on today.

Wait a minute, she thought to herself. These pervs think I lost my panties! They think I'm not wearing anything under this skirt! Tasha suddenly felt like she had the upper hand. Jo's panties could protect a measure of her modesty, and she could tricky these lecherous old fools out of some money!

"A hundred bucks for five seconds," Tasha countered. She was feeling bolder now.

"I'll go you one better my dear," said Raleigh. "A hundred bucks for every five seconds you keep you skirt raised and you charms on display."

Tasha was in a conundrum. She would never dream of giving these filthy monsters the satisfaction. On the other hand, she could make her rent in just a minute - and she was wearing panties!

"Let's see the cash." Tasha tried to sound tough.

Raleigh produced a thick roll of hundred dollar bills. Tasha sighed...

She crowded up as close as possible to the corner of the table, between Raleigh and Spunkmeyer to get out of public sight.

Raleigh, Takashi, and Spunkmeyer leaned in close. Spunkmeyer had all his little hidden cameras rolling, including one under the table between Tasha's feet, shooting straight up at her crotch.

One hand still holding her blouse, Tasha's free hand reached for her hem and timidly pulled it to her waist. The split in the back yawned open, revealing most of her barely covered behind to the rest of the restaurant.

Spunkmeyer almost cried foul when he saw the panties, until he took a closer look. The tiny blue things scarcely covered anything. A wisp of golden hair was peeking out the simple lace of the elastic. The gusset was soaked through with the young girl's excitement, swallowed between her flushed, hungry lips.

"Five seconds," Raleigh said, as he laid one hundred dollar bill on the table.

The second she hoisted her skirt, Tasha felt her level of arousal skyrocket. The three men leaned in close to her crotch, and studied it like they were memorizing it. Despite her best efforts at self control, Tasha could feel her pulse racing, her hot skin wet with perspiration, her breathing quicken. There was a tingling, an itch building down in her pussy, compounded by the fact that Jo's panties were bunched up and pressing on her tender clit.

"Ten seconds," Another hundred dollars.

Tasha's knees buckled. Her hand slips from her blouse to steady herself against the table. Tanaka brightens at the sight of her excessive cleavage. 

"Fifteen seconds."

Tasha felt dizzy and fevered, like she was tipsy. She clenched her thighs, as if to drive it out, but it actually increased the pressure and heightened her sensitivity. Tasha spread her legs wide. It took the pressure off and steadier her stance, but gave the men an even more intimate view...

"Twenty seconds."

As Tasha's legs grew weaker, her arousal grew stronger. Her inhibitions and cares about these nasty old men, the patrons in the restaurant, being exposed in public; they were fading in a fog of lust. 

"Twenty five seconds."

Her knees buckled wildly. Tasha leaned against the table for support, and found the corner of the table pressing against her crotch... and it felt good!

Tasha recoiled, pulling her sex away from the corner. Some small part of her inhibition was still fighting back against the tsunami of gypsy sex magic and compulsive exhibitionism.

Still, if she could just lean against the table, just a little, maybe she could end this. Scratch this itch, release this pressure and clear her head. If she did it casually, no one would notice, right? She just needed to be inconspicuous about it.

"T-thirty seconds."

Inconspicuous she was not. A curvaceous, statuesque honey-blond, her ample tits threatening to spill from her ravaged blouse, her skirt split almost to her waist revealing a pair of almost comically undersized panties, gently humping the corner of a table in an upscale Manhattan restaurant was anything but inconspicuous. Raleigh, Tanaka, and Spunkmeyer, three of the most experienced perverts in the city, were absolutely awestruck by Tasha's self indulgent display.

"...forty seconds!"

Jo was equally shocked. She watched her friend's meltdown from across the restaurant, as did virtually every patron in the place. Munich was dead silent, except for the sound of water glasses lightly tinking against each other on Tasha's table.

Jo was conspicuously aware of her own lack of panties, feeling the cool AC across her damp pussy. Watching Tasha bewitched and pleasuring herself against a table corner was such a dramatic turn from the chaste but lovely beauty Jo had become so secretly infatuated with. She also realized that, by the terms of the curse, the more Jo leered and lusted after her humiliated friend, the deeper Tasha's lust would surge. And leer Jo did, wondering what it would feel like to press her mouth and tongue against Tasha's nervous wet pussy.