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Harri: Face the Slut Within Ch. 01

By: thenry



My name is Harriet Tamlin and my life didn't start, not really, until the summer after my eighteenth birthday. 

I spent the first seventeen years of my life at death's door. Well, maybe not literally, not every day. I'd take breaks from chemo, sometimes they lined up with breaks from other things, and before you knew it I had burr of hair on my scalp. I'd pick up running - my heart was always in great shape - and notice the sunshine again. Listen to a bird. These vacations from my life never lasted long.

My mom died when I was eight from the same thing I have. Genetic. I never blamed her for it. I never really knew her.

Dad spent those eighteen years stuck between a rock and a hard place. He never had a little girl; he had a twisted crone. He never had to teach me to drive, but he did have to teach me to change a catheter. Instead of clothes he bought me books. And he worked long hours every day trying to keep the ends met over my medical bills. I homeschooled just to pass the time, but we could only stretch that until I was sixteen.

Then, at seventeen: a miracle. Who knows what it was, but somewhere between chemo, radiation, vitamins, hormones, and one last marrow transplant - I got better. You have to understand - I was five-foot-one and weighed eighty-five pounds. I had no hair. I had no fat. It hurt to stand up straight. I was a troll. I had no idea what health even meant. I had no idea what an appetite even meant. In the next year I grew more than four inches and gained twenty-five pounds. I didn't know who I was anymore. I didn't like it.

Dad didn't know what to do with me. He had a daughter! An ordinary, healthy, young daughter. We could go out and public and people wouldn't stare. And we had money - all of the sudden I was cheap. He could buy me anything I wanted - I wanted none of it. We decided I should go to college at the end of the summer.

Truth be told, I couldn't think of any objections. What else was I going to do with my life? How many more works of medieval meditative literature could I contemplate from my windowseat before I went stircrazy? I got in wherever I wanted. The grades were good, but, pff, homeschool. What did it for me was the story, and I'd had a couple of "deep" essays published at that point. While I thought the editors were just suckers for the heartbreak kid, I did fancy myself at least a fair writer.

Dad still caught me by surprise when he sat me down over two glasses of scotch not two weeks before my Harvard matriculation date.

"Harriet," he said, ponderously. "I'm worried about you."

This wasn't a surprise. This is how he started almost every conversation. Harriet, I'm worried about you. You're a healthy young woman, now, but you need to get out into the world, to live. Blah, blah, blah.

"Yeah, Dad?" I took a sip. He'd pulled out the good stuff.

"Harriet, I'm worried about you. You're a healthy young woman, now -"

"but-you-need-to-get-out-into-the-world-to-live. Right, Dad. I know. I'm trying. I really am." I wasn't. I told myself things would change at college.

He frowned. "That's why you're getting on a plane tomorrow to go help Matt and Jess clean out Aunt Cathy's house."

Matt and Jess were fraternal twins about five years older than I. They were practically my only friends in the world, not that it meant much. Our mothers had been best friends since childhood, college roommates even. Our mothers were both dead. They had a younger brother, Jimmy, about my age, but I always hung with the older two. In my early teens, when my health was marginally better than later, we all spent summers together at this aunt's, Cathy's, house. Then she had a stroke. We all drifted apart and I'd last seen the twins at the funeral, right after my miraculous cure.

Matt and Jess both had places in the town close to where Aunt Cathy lived - had lived, years ago. She'd been in long-term care since the strake. The town was where the local college was, where they'd just graduated. Jimmy still lived with their parents, about an hour away.

To say I was stunned was an understatement. "I. Will. Not!"

"You will, Harriet."

We both heard the 'or else' dangle at the end of that sentence and both knew he didn't have it in him. Poor Daddy. He never had to develop an inner disciplinarian - there was no need - and now it was too late. After seventeen years of cajoling me to eat enough to stay alive, he now had a strong-willed, independent woman on his hands. O brave new world!

Just then - a shot in the dark. Well, a knock at the front door, but it might as well have been a bullet for all the change it wrought in my life.

It was Marrie - that exact spelling -, the literal girl next door. She had these doe eyes and big, milquetoast tits. I saw her check me out through the frosted glass before I opened the door. God, I despised her then. "Oooooh, hello, Marrie!"

"Hi, um, Harriet? Some friends and I are heading down to the dock. To listen to some music? I thought you might like to come?" She was always dropping by with invitations to useless shit.

Dad cleared his throat from the room behind me. This was exactly the thing he always wanted me to do.

"Oooh, I'm sorry, Marrie. I have to pack tonight. I have to go help with, well, my aunt died. Family stuff, you understand?"

"Oh my God, Harriet. I'm so sorry! Let me know if I can -"

I gently shut the door in her face. "Fucking slut bitch," I muttered, then bolted back the rest of my scotch. I hated her. I hated the way I tingled after talking to her.

"I'll get your suitcase!" Dad called.

And that brings me to two important asides:

First is my adult vices - drinking and cursing. Dad introduced me to drinking on the very under-the-table advice from one of my long-term docs. It made swallowing lots of pills easier by numbing the throat. It dampened inhibitions so some of the inequities of my treatments didn't hamper me as much. Who cares about wearing an adult diaper when you're five sheets to the wind, amirite? More importantly, who cares about a sloshed fourteen year old when she probably won't see her next birthday. If she's old enough to die from an adult disease, then she's old enough to drink. If I had the tidal lung capacity growing up, I'd have smoked, too. Thank God for small favors.

The cursing? I don't think Dad even heard it anymore. I'd always been hyperverbal, as if you couldn't tell, and creative cursing was often a way to exactly communicate my feelings on the many unpleasant aspects of my daily life. Because I had a little, tiny little, really, ... issue ... about sluts.

Second aside - I fucking hated fucking sluts. And the bull-cock boys who went along with them. But here's the thing. For me, a slut was anyone with breasts, and a bull-cock was any boy who looked at anyone with breasts.

I think it started when I was twelve. Up until then, while still skinny and hairless, I still kind of looked like a normal girl. Then they all changed on me, left me behind. I remember when I graduated to the adolescent ward at the hospital. The female illustrations in all the pamphlets had tiny tits. They were punches to my chest, telling me I didn't belong. And I'd watch hardcore porn with clinical interest, watch these big-breasted sluts and their bull-cock boys go at it, trying to feel ... anything. I never did. I was chaste, pure, and I came to the conclusion that anyone with breasts wanted to act that way, wanted to suck and fuck any bull-cock she could reach. I came to the conclusion that anyone with breasts was a slut.

Here's where it gets twisted. I had pictures of my mother, from before. She was beautiful, full-figured, gorgeous, the works. And when she had me - ugh, this sounds awful. When she had me, she gave that up so the could be like me, a troll. She stopped being a slut. So she could be like me.

I'd built up this whole fantasy about who I was, this whole mythology. I was consumed with medieval literature, framing my cloistered existence in tales of Saints martyred before the age of twenty. I buried myself in contemplative reflection, in the theory of meditative, prayerful ascent. I wasn't meant for this world. This prison of frail flesh - this wasn't me, not really.

I know, I know, a little bit at odds with the smoking and cursing. What can I say? I was a fucked up kid. But imagine my horror, shame, and revulsion when, on the eve of adulthood, I stopped being me and turned into a slut. Four inches. Twenty-five pounds. It was hips, it was thighs. Trying to run away the weight only gave me a high, tight ass. It was ... breasts. And between my legs? I'd never even had pubic hair until I was almost eighteen. And it wasn't just on the outside - I suddenly had these feelings and ... urges. 

I feared - no, knew - it was simply a matter of time before the slut came out. I could feel her, coiled within me, straining. It wasn't just the breasts. It was deeper - like the way I tingled when I talked to Marrie and wanted to make her beg me to go with her. The question was, would I hate myself when it finally happened, or would my entire worldview change? I fought it every step of the way. 

My most successful tactic was clothing. I had all this shapeless, tasteless, asexual, ragged clothing. It was all heavy-duty stuff, clothes you could throw in our industrial washer at boiling heat to get the bodily fluids out. It was all too small for me, then, but the tightness just reminded me how much I didn't belong in my new body, how it wasn't me, not really.

So imagine my further surprise when I arrived at my destination airport the next morning to discover Dad had "accidentally" forgotten to check my bag. I screamed at him over the phone, downright hissy, the rat bastard. Right before we landed I'd cajoled a stewardess into giving me a glass of red wine, then promptly spilled it over the front of my clothes, soaked all the way through my lap. Even got some all over my shoes. I needed that luggage to get something to change into. He chuckled and told me to have a good time.

Jess was willowy, graceful, with sleek dark hair and big inquisitive eyes. I never thought she was a slut, about the highest praise I had for anyone. When she found me she had a loose top on, jeans, and a little bag over her shoulder. She made me wistful for my lost youth. Jess, the not-a-slut, was who I would have been if I'd grown up healthy.

She found me, on the verge of tears in that crappy rural airport, lap still soaking with red wine, found me and hugged me tight. "You're dad called. I think he did it on purpose."

"Of course he did it on purpose, the rat bastard." I wiped my eyes on her shoulder. "Hey," I said. "It's good to see you. I'm sorry about Aunt Cathy."

"Me too. Come on. I've got some clothes, my work clothes for the house. Let's head to the bathroom to get you changed."

Jess stuck her head in the big public restroom next to the entrance - it was empty. I guess everybody waited until after security these days. She dropped her bag on the counter.

She unzipped it and pulled out a tiny bundle of clothes, dark blue, and a pair of those flat slipper shoes, all held to her chest. "I should probably explain. Uh, this is nothing like what I'd normally wear, but Matt told me we might go grab a beer later and, err, you'll see."

"I'll see what?"

At the counter I picked up the thing on top. It looked like a thick, ribbed cotton tank-top but it was four inches wide. "What the hell is this? How am I going to fit into this? How were you going to fit into this?"

"It's girl clothes, Harriet. They stretch. They're supposed to." 

She nibbled her lower lip. It was one of those endearing, childish habits I'd've had if I'd've had a real childhood. I was a little jealous.

"The cut-offs and the tank top I think you can handle. Wear the bra you have on, and -"

"I, err, don't have a bra. I don't own any. I never really needed one until ... recently."

"All right, tank top a little harder to handle. Cutoffs still okay, but the panties are a bit, well."

"Well?" I pulled a wisp of a thing from under the shorts. "Tiny!"

"Skimpy!" She snatched them back and folded the shorts over them. 

For some reason she was just as mortified about them. The whole situation was mortifying, but she wasn't the one who had anything to be ashamed about. "Why do you have to change underwear to go help your brother?"

"Matt said he might pay me back with a beer, and that means going out in public, and out in the real world your panties have to match your bra or you're a hopelessly socially awkward klutz who nobody ever looks at twice. I love the bra, those came with the bra, I have to bring those. Okay?" She pushed the bundled shorts at me. "Girl clothes, Harriet. Welcome to the real world."

I pushed them back. "I can't wear that. Why can't I wear the ones you've got on now? Why can't I wear the clothes you've got on now. I need to be covered." I was losing control of the situation. "I can't walk around with ... skin ... everywhere."

"You want my dirty underwear, Harriet? Is that really your better solution? You dad said you needed everything. You want your wet panties to stain my cutoffs with red wine?"

My face got hot. I'd always blushed easily. It was cuter when I was four. "Fine, the pants then. At least."

She stepped back. "You'll look better in these shorts than I will any day."

"Who wants to look better than anything? I only want to look like myself!"

"Harriet, you need to get a grip and think about where you'll be for the next few days. All you've got is my clothes. Nobody knows you here. Take it for a ride."

She was right and I retreated. I picked up the clothes and shoes and headed to the big handicapped stall at the end.

It was your standard airport bathroom stall. Concrete floor, white porcelain, chrome bar all the way around. It even had a big mirror set low on the wall. Wheelchair height. I hated mirrors. Sure, I had reason to not look at myself when I was young and sick, but recently? I really hated mirrors.

And in that mirror? There she was. That slut. That blond pixie cut I finally got because it was short and I finally had hair, those grin eyes just like my mother's. I used to look like a troll, but my face had filled in as my body fat inched up from zero. Up-turned nose, bow lips, pointed chin. Slut or not, I did look like a six-year-old in a doctor's costume, the red-wine stains my fake blood. Deep breath. I hated mirrors.

I shucked the shirt over my head and dropped it to the floor. There, in the mirror, were my breasts, perfect pointed mounds that rode high on my chest, topped with thick rosy nipples. I hated them, hated my slut breasts, hated them until they were all I could think about. My nipples tightened, puckered on my chest until I could see them below me without even trying.

The airport's air-conditioner kicked on, a vent right above me. I almost arched my back at the first breeze across my chest. This was getting out of hand. It's just a chest. It didn't make me slut. I looked down at myself and they were just fleshy bags - intellectually I knew it was a twisted perception of my body. It was the image that did me in, the image I associated with those activities. They're just nipples and I had them before. Sure they were bigger now, puffier. But I'd had them before.

I slid the tank top over me, feeling every soft inch slide over my skin. I never wore fabric like this. It didn't help with the ... excitement, but at least I didn't have to see them. The tank top barely came past my belly button and the close-fitting fabric accentuated my narrow waist. I grimaced in the mirror. My nipples still made quite an impression, almost casting shadows in the direct overhead light. I was starting to see the point of a bra - two points, as the case may be.

As for the next part - I turned around. I knew that lesson. Ah, hell. I peeked anyway - pajama bottom pants baggy everywhere except right where they cupped across the top of a firm, tight ass. I steeled myself. This was always the worst part.

I hooked my thumbs into the waistband and had to shimmy my hips to get past the widest part, then slid the pants down my smooth thighs. Then kept going. One thing I reveled in about health was my new-found flexibility. I kept bending until my fingertips brushed the floor, then kept going until I had my palms pressed flat. I'd never been this flexible in my life.

I grabbed the panties from behind me and caught a glimpse of that perfect ass in the mirror. The panties - no, call it what it is. Jess's black, slutty, stripper thong that, an hour ago, would've damned her to a fiery hell in my imagination, was little more than strings of nylon. I had to look closer than I ever wanted to just figure out which way was front and in which holes my legs went. Only the flimsiest double layer of a lining told me which part was the bottom. I looked down to step into them and - fucking stubble.

I fucking hated my pubic hair, the final nail in my coffin, but a nail I could keep prying out. I hated even looking there - which was pretty easy to avoid when you had a tube taking care of business half the time. I hated shaving there, having to ... touch ... my, my, I still didn't know what to call myself. Pu - no. Cun - no. Twat - definitely not. I'd reluctantly settled on vulva, taking refuge in the medical term. To make matters worse, other than the dirty hair, it hadn't changed a bit. I still had a peach of a mound bisected by the tiniest slivers of labia. That it hadn't changed, that, when hairless, I still looked like me down there, made things a little easier. But the stubble? And I didn't even have a razor. Rat bastard Dad. Not that he would've known what I needed a razor for.

I pulled the panties up without a second thought until I got to the top. The back didn't fit. I glanced in the mirror, no, it was just twisted and cutting into my left ass cheek. Almost automatically, I plucked it into place, nylon disappeared yet somehow framing the globes of my ass. I could feel it nestle against my anus. The panties tingled. The image made me tingle, front and back and all over. Don't think about it, Harriet. This isn't you. You're still in there somewhere.

I couldn't believe women wore these all the time. They were tiny, barely covering what they needed to cover, yet the shorts barely covered any more than that. I had to yank them over my hips, suck in to get them buttoned, and I suspected if I bent over in the mirror I'd see cheek. I slipped the shoes on and was out the stall.

Jess hunched over the sink, picking an eyelash out of her eye.

"I can't believe you were going to wear these shorts anywhere in public." 

"I wouldn't wear them outside - they're just for working in. I had them forever." She turned around. "Shit. You look -."

She'd never cursed in front of me before. "Like a girl," I said. "Like you." I could feel her eyes tracing along every surface of my body. Is this what it was like? To be a woman? I knew she could see my nipples jabbing through the tank top. That didn't help.

"No. Well, yes in the obvious ways. You're ... hot, I guess is the obvious word, but something's not right. I'm fairly tomboy, but you don't even have that. It looks like you're ... wearing yourself? You aren't in you? Walk for me?"

I walked up to her side. 

"Yeah, that's gotta change if you're going out in public. Make up, too. You just look wrong. Woman up here."

I hadn't even thought about going out in public. I could last for a couple of days, maybe a week, in slut clothes, if I didn't go outside, but ... "You think people can tell?"

"Growing up with a twin, even a fraternal twin, probably gives me an edge. You don't look like you spent your life in a hospital, but I think people will know something's a little off."

I shook my head. That was a problem for later. "What's the word on this house project. Tell me at least that's for real."


Harri: Face the Slut Within Ch. 01



"Very real. And we could use your help. We cleaned up the main floor a little, just to show the house, but that meant everything got shoved into the basement. She hadn't been there for years so it was pretty dusty. Aunt Cathy's house sold last week. They need an early closing date to get into the school district for their kids, which means we've got to empty the place by this weekend."

"Shit," I said.

"Shit you right."

I thought about what it meant to be called in to help, what it meant to be actually useful. I was doing them the favor, but, "Thanks Jess."

"Sure, babe. Anytime." She hugged me. "I know it's not easy ... for you. To come out here. We really appreciate it." She let me go. "And your dad said ... he said I should take care of you. Show you a few things. Get you some new clothes." Jess looked me up and down again.

Suddenly I didn't know where to put my hands. Behind my back would thrust my chest out. In front of me squeezed by breasts together. At my sides they just - stop thinking about it.

She jumped in. "There! Right then, what were you thinking. You stopped looking ... wrong."

I felt heat in my cheeks. "You were looking at me and I didn't know where to put my arms."

"You were in your body. Harriet, that's ... good." She glanced around the restroom. "We should get out of here. Looked like rain outside. I'm thinking we might wait it out at Aunt Cathy's rather than go all the way into town." She shoved my damp clothes into her bag. "We've got some food there for snacks and lunch. It'll be like old times."

The pickup area and baggage claim were underground, and after that we had a couple of flights of steps up to where Jess had parked. I hated steps. Not as bad as mirrors, but steps were still a subtle reminder of the changes to my body. I just couldn't climb them, not in any normal, natural way, and to make matters worse I had Jess's slut thong on. Each step had me rocking my weight from side to side to keep balance and the flexing on each climbing step left me keenly aware of that thong pulling against me. And the rasp of nylon across stubble? That's right, fucking stubble.

Jess was right behind me, staring at the tiny shorts she made me wear. "Stop," she said. I felt her hands on my hips. "Rock these when you step. It's where you center of gravity is. You got hips now, girl." She slid my hips from side to side. "No, roll them. Loosen your spine a little." It was just her fingertips, but they burned.

I don't know what I did, and I don't know how she did it, but it helped. My body was steady, but moving beneath me. Rolling, and it was just walking. At the top she pointed to her tiny beat-up sedan under a lamppost. She unlocked the car.

"Thanks, Jess. Really." I didn't know where this sudden streak of gratitude was coming from.

She laughed. I blushed. "You're adorable. Listen. This is all - I mean. Don't worry about me. Don't even worry about thanking me for at least ... two days. You have enough on your plate."

"Two whole days? That's it?" I climbed into her car.

"I'm an excellent multitasker." 

It was good we left when we did. The lamp above where she parked buzzed on against the black clouds blotting out the afternoon light. She started the car and took us out of the lot.

"So tell me, really," Jess said. She glanced over at me, the car swerved a bit, and her eyes snapped back to the road.

"What? What is it? Trouble with the car?"

"It's ... you. The way you're sitting. I could see ... everything. Put those legs together, missy."

I looked down and, well, it's how I would always sit. But now instead of a casual pose it was my legs splayed open with a glisten of black visible beneath the fringe on the high-cut leg. I snapped my legs shut and ... my thighs didn't even touch at the top. Fucking wide hips. I crossed my legs and squeezed them all the way up. "Sorry."

"No, no. It's my fault. They're my clothes and, well, you see why I don't wear stuff like that just around anywhere? They don't fit on me like that, anyway. They're lower and they're certainly looser."

"Are you saying I have a fat ass?" I couldn't care less, and I certainly couldn't disagree with her, but it was too easy a tease to pass up.

"No! You're just, I mean. Look. Neither of us are big girls. It's just that you, now, have curves in all the places I don't. On me those are frumpy. They're still short, but on you they're painted on hot or something."

"Jess, I think you look just fine." 

"And I like the way I look just fine. But there is a difference between just fine and, well, hot. The way you look is ... hot. The way I look is just fine, but I'm sure guys would drool just to see you cross your legs like that."

The mention of guys was like a bucket of drool dumped all over me. "Nope. Can't deal with that thought. I'm not going out all week."

"Well, I'm just saying."

"Jess, you don't -"

"Harriet, you don't have to lie to me. If you were a guy you would absolutely not ever try to stare down my shirt or do a doubletake as I walked by. It's just not me."

I uncrossed my legs and grumbled, "If people knew you wore these panties it might be a different story."

She laughed again. "The point is that I'm just fine and always have been. I get along just fine. But let's not pretend I'm any more than I am. It's what's inside that counts, I'm doing great in that department, and, shit, you are too. It's just that now you're the one who's got the body everybody dreams about. What's that like?"

"So you noticed," I said.

"Who wouldn't? When I saw you at the funeral, you looked ... healthier, but not like this. And your dad mentioned, kinda, but how is he going to explain. How are you handling it?"

"Suddenly having everything anyone ever prayed for me to have? Not well, actually. I'm like a woman let out of prison after fifty years. I don't know what to do without the walls. I spent every day in a little box eating gruel everyday and now I have a whole new life ahead of me, literally, and I never gave one ounce of thought to what I'd do with that time. I mean, I honestly don't know anything about myself."

Rather than the rational, uneasy feeling I'd tried to communicate, Jess was excited. "This really is a golden opportunity! Just think of all you're going to learn in the next few days. We have a whole house full of stuff to dig through. Art, clothes, records. You're a brand new woman, Harriet. Ugh, that name. We've got to do something with that name."

Instead of hearing things to discover, for me Jess was pounding down coherent pieces of my identity that might be missing, changing. I didn't want to discover I liked acid jazz. I didn't want to know my whole life had been missing. Tears welled up. I couldn't keep my voice from breaking. "I'm still me."

"Oh, honey," she said.

"Not honey. Harriet. I'm not this," I gestured to myself. "I'm - I'm just not."

"But don't you see? Everything that changed isn't you, not really. Don't you want to know who you are?"

I didn't have an answer to that. Maybe she was right. "I'm crying. This isn't me."

"That's you being tired and overwhelmed. Harriet, who wouldn't cry? I bet you didn't even eat before you got on that plane." She patted me on the leg. And it helped. "I'm not saying we have to chart everything you say, do, and eat. I'm not saying you have to try to change or try to not. It's only a week. Think of it like a vacation. It's not like you could stay forever if you wanted to. You've got Harvard in two weeks. You'll definitely go, and you'll definitely love it. That is you."

"You're right. Thank you, Jess." I wiped away the tears with the back of my hand. "I know it's time. I just don't think I'm ready yet."

"Well, it's definitely time to welcome you to Aunt Cathy's tiny mountain driveway." Jess turned off the road.

I nodded. "Finally. Longest car ride of my life." 

Aunt Cathy lived about halfway between the airport and town, just off the high mountain pass you had to go over along the way. Nothing was that far as the crow flew, but the incline meant endless hatchbacks. And as the sun dimmed behind the storm clouds, Jess had to drive even more slowly.

"You didn't mind, did you? I hate these roads. And it looks like it's about to start raining. We'll stay down in town the rest of the nights you're here, it's a little weird up here ... without Aunt Cathy, but not for why you'd think. The house is just empty. Nobody lived here for years, and it feels like that. But I just can't drive these roads when they're wet." She turned the last corner up to the house and, with that, the first giant raindrop splat on the windshield. "Oh just hold off five more minutes." 

"No, no. It was good. You did exactly right and the talk ... needed to get said. Thanks."

"Bottom line. It might not be the easiest week of your life, but you won't be doing this alone. We'll hang out all week. Matt'll be here. Jimmy's coming up on Saturday before you leave. It'll be just like old times. We might even find a way to have some fun."

"That might be ... nice." I'd meant to say 'best'. I'd meant to say, I can't stop thinking about jumping your bones, so does that make me a slut?



Harri: Face the Slut Within Ch. 02



We pulled into the parking space. Rain pattered, but if we ran we'd hardly be wet.

Jess turned off the car. "You ready to dash?" She grinned.

I grinned back. "Is this your idea of making it fun already?"

"I aim to deliver, Harriet. Harri." She popped open her door and jumped out.

I followed suit. What did she mean by that name? She beat me to the stairs, but I was right behind her the whole way up. My breasts heaved and bounced until I crossed my arms over my chest, telling myself it was against the sudden chill. 

She beat me to the overhang by a second, then turned back, stricken, as the sky opened up. "My bag is still in the car. The keys. I'm such an idiot sometimes."

"I'm stupid," I said immediately. "I didn't even think. I'll get them." I looked out at the deluge.

"Don't be silly." Jess walked out into the rain, taking her time. 

Jess was right. The things that changed weren't me, but the little things were some of the easiest to cling to. And some changes were going to be in how other people treated me. I thought hard about what anyone else would do in this situation, and couldn't come up with any predictions. I'd been at this house before, spent long summers here. I knew it just as well as she did. Should I have gone down to the car in the rain? I couldn't have a year ago because of my health. Should I leave Jess in the mudroom and bring her a towel or tell Jess to make for the nearest bathroom and warm up? Was it okay to stare at her if she took off all her clothes?

"I'm the one who's supposed to be glum," said Jess from behind me. 

She tossed the ring and I caught it without even a fumble. Despite what I looked like, physical coordination was really catching up for me. I unlocked the door with my left hand and began flipping on lights. Jess followed, dropped her bag in the corner, and waited soaked and shivering.

"Wait just a second," I told her. "I'll be right back with a towel to catch the most of that, then you can jump in a shower and warm up." I slipped the wet shoes off my feet and dashed around the corner to Aunt Cathy's bathroom. Towels: check. There was even a robe behind the door.

But back at the door, Jess had already taken off her baggy shirt and was tugging on her jeans. I waited, fine, I fucking stared, towel in hand, until she noticed.

"I -" I said, then froze. She was so willowy under the bagging clothes she always wore, elegant. The black bra had lace cupping her small breasts, lace through which I could see flat, silver dollar nipples. Her panties were white and, while they rode low on her waist, covered so much more than the slutty ones I had on.

"Uh -" She stood up, wet jeans tight around her thighs. "I can't get out of these. I need help."

"Right, of course." I handed her the towel, then ducked into the mud room for a stool. When I bent over for it I saw my nipples poking up as hard as ever. "Because of the cold," I mumbled to myself. "She sees them every time she looks at me. It's a tiny tank top."

Jess had wrapped the towel around her torso and sank gratefully onto the stool. She had her shoes and socks off already, which just left me tugging on the legs. An inch at a time they came off, but I couldn't believe how hard I had to pull to get them to move. I was so much stronger than I used to be, and still. For a second, right before they came off, I caught full on the crotch of her white panties and the strip of shadow they contained. Women and pubic hair - I wouldn't be able to avoid it forever.

She stood, blushing. "Shower for me."

"There's a robe on the door in there. I'll scrounge for food. Then we'll deal with ... things."

"Plan," she said.

In the kitchen, I opened the fridge. There wasn't much. It had been mostly cleaned of perishables, meaning we had our choice of baking soda and ketchup. There were a couple of eggs that didn't look bad, and I found some spices in one of the cabinets. Quick, high protein omelets. If I had a specialty, that was it. Outside, the rain really started coming down.

While waiting for the skillet to heat to the perfect temperature, I pulled down a bottle of wine and stopped when I couldn't reach the glasses on tiptoe. This was me, all me, doing something normal. Just making dinner. I wondered how long it would be before I stopped noticing my breasts sway every time I moved.

The house was starting to disappear, up here at least. Every day an estate auction company brought over a load of boxes and took away the full ones. For helping out this week, the siblings promised me a full share of the proceeds. Every day more of Aunt Cathy disappeared.

I heard the water shut off and grabbed two plates to serve at the counter. When I looked up she was there in the old robe, much shorter on her than the last time I remember her wearing it, watching me. I felt a blush rise up through my chest. "Something wrong?"

She shook her head. "You move beautifully when you aren't think about it. Very naturally. Harri."

That did it for the blush. "Eat already. Wine? What's with that name?"

"Harri? It's you. I dub thee. You need a new name for a new you." Jess thought for a second, then nodded. "It's perfect."

I poured her a glass of wine.

"I forget about you and drinking. Your dad's still okay with it?"

"Since I'm not dying tomorrow? It's a tough line to walk back over. I think he's still be okay with it at the house, nothing like sitting down for a drink with your teenage daughter to unwind for the day, but I'll be on my own at college."

We ate in companionable silence but quickly, both of us starving. The food was fantastic, the wine better. But something about it left me a little nervous.

Jess noticed. "You keep taking tiny sips. It tastes different for you?"

"That hasn't changed. It's what you said, about the drinking. I don't know how I'm going to do, living in a dorm with a bunch of normal kids."

"Oh you'll do fine. Especially with the drinking. It'll make you real popular, real fast. I got the dishes?" She slid off the stool, causing the robe to slide all the way up her long thigh. 

I looked away. "Dishwasher." I cradled up our glasses in one hand and the bottle with the other. "I'll move us to the fire."

Across the low room was an automatic fireplace flanked by two leather chairs. I set the wine on the table between them and clicked on the fire. It might not have been authentic, but it was authentically cheery against the storm outside. Jess crossed the room to me smooth and graceful. I could see in her the way she wanted me to walk. It made sense. The robe had loosened so it was open to down between her breasts and every other step there was a flash a pale thigh up to where it tied around her hips. Fuck that slut inside of me.

The tank top slide over my hard nipples with every breath, an unnerving reminder of the strength of the teenage hormones I'd fallen into headlong. I felt heavy ... down there, achy like, like I didn't know what. She must think I'm such a baby.

She sat, legs casually crossed, and tugged the edge of the robe to cover her thigh. It came open again when she bent to refill her glass. The cloth gaped open at the neck, exposing the swell of her bare breasts. I bent to refill my glass before she caught me staring. I couldn't miss my rock hard nipples, the curve and sway of my own breasts. I'd bet neither could she. The fire felt good beside me.

"So," she said at long last, a pleasant distraction. "Any bright ideas on figuring out the new you?"

"Almost everything's something I haven't done before. Not like this."

"Point. But that's too easy an answer. What about physical things, physical things you know have changed. How do you feel about those?"

"Now you've lost me." Well, not really. But there were some physical things I was willing to talk about and some ...

"I-eeee there's no avoiding a couple of awkward questions. What about your period? How's that for an entry into normal womanhood?"

I shook my head. "I still don't cycle. They're keeping me on depo shots, keeping me evened out, stretch out the shocks to the system, so to speak. Heavy on the hormones, light on the womanhood."

"Hormones! That we can - ah, hmm." Jess stammered into silence.

"The more embarrassed you are the worse it is for me." I was glad the darkness hid my burning face. "If there's something you want to say, spit it out."

"I couldn't help from noticing that you've got some, well, raging ... hormones. Is that polite enough?"

"My," and I gestured vaguely at my chest, "these?"

She nodded quickly. "What's it from? If you don't mind me ... asking."

"Mostly me." Because I'm a slut. "Mostly the way things ... feel." I'm a fucking slut. "I'm not used to wearing clothes that are ... soft." Ah.

"So it's not ... me," she said. "Because I get the impression you've been ... noticing things. About me, I mean. I mean, I can't help noticing you ... noticing."

"I, yes. But I - I." Shit. I'd asked for an honest question. "I've seen a lot more of you this afternoon, literally, and walking a mile in your clothes when they're clothes like this puts a different spin on things. On my life." I'm afraid I'm a slut, Jess. "I think the world of you, Jess, and when things are okay for you to do and wear, then it's a lot easier for me." Phew. That sounded complimentary.

"I don't - ah, ignore it." She gulped her wine. "What about hobbies and other things? Things you liked to do before that are different now?"

"There I know what you mean, but I don't have any good answers." Is being a slut a hobby? "I liked to run before, when I felt good, and that hasn't changed. Reading? Writing? What else did I really do?"

"I think you sell yourself short. Sure it was a crap life, but I never thought you were horribly unhappy, not when we saw you. We were just kids, so hobbies and passions might not be the right words, but you remember how much we liked dressing up and putting on plays? Making Jimmy play the other princess so Matt and I could both be dashing heroes?"

I laughed. "Probably scarred that boy for life. He kept trying to kiss me and I had to keep telling him that the super princesses didn't kiss each other."

She laughed too. "I - I probably shouldn't tell you this, but he's still got this enormous crush on you. It's killing him he can't get out of his job all week and just, and this is the funny part, it's like he thinks if you just stumble across him alone in a room you'll take care of the rest. Nervous little kid. Matt and I feel bad for him. And feel free to tease Jimmy about this when you see him on Saturday."

Jimmy was eighteen - exactly my age. And he hoped I'b be a slut and jump him. If he was allowed to be the nervous little kid, what did that mean for me?

"A crush - on me?"

"I will say this. He has been pumping iron since the funeral. He's almost got as much muscle as Matt these day."

I was so confused - Jimmy, the way she was looking at me. Her stare burned holes in my my chest. I realized I was sitting exactly like I'd been in the car. It was dark - it didn't matter. My nipples were on fire. I had to be the grownup here. I stood, a little woozy. "Come on. Let's get into some real clothes." I emptied the bottle into our glasses. I glanced at her and caught her staring at my swaying tits. 

"Err, Harriet, Harri, do you know where you're going?"

I blushed again. "No."

She led me to Aunt Cathy's old room and flicked on the light. I walked past her. It was exactly how I remembered it and I half expected to feel ... something. The room was frilly, flowy, girly. She'd only been forty when she died - a sudden, freak aneurism, so she was only ... thirty-six when she last lived here? Our lives were filled with women dying young. But Aunt Cathy was dead. It was just a room.

Jess stopped in the doorway. She tugged the robe back tighter, making things a touch easier for me.

"Something the matter?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Harri, but you haven't ever gone through a dead woman's room before, right?"

That name. She was forcing it on me. I nodded.

"Then there's one big thing we need to cover, and blunt is good." 

"Blunt is good." I leaned back against Aunt Cathy's bed, arms crossed.

Jess spun the desk chair around and straddled it. The chairback hid everything, but I knew her legs were wide open and it itched in my mind. "Aunt Cathy was a vivacious woman with her own life, every life has little secrets, and when we go through her things we're going to find those secrets. And it's best if we keep those secrets, right? I was saving this room until you got here, and probably for last. Since she was a woman it's best if we deal with some of these things and not the boys."

"I'm in a foreign country. There will be shocks, but I can deal with it one thing at a time."

"It's not just Aunt Cathy, I guess. You said you've ... seen more of me today than, well. The point is that for you to do this week right, you're going to see a lot of me. I'm going to have to tell you things and show you things. And I'm going to see a lot of you, too. Things are going to change between us."

"Change I'm plenty used to these days. I may be slow in adapting, but change I'm used to." I held out my hand. "To hell to whoever we were before. Deal?"

She shook it. "Harri, you're still exactly who you were before. And so am I. That's what you're going to learn this week. But first things first. Night clothes. And your first shock." She went over to the wardrobe and pulled open a drawer, poking around its contents. "Aunt Cathy liked lingerie."

"So? Ladies like having matching things. You said so yourself."

"Not matching things, lingerie." Jess pulled a gauzy purple thing made of dangling straps out of one of the drawers. 

That I had to see. I took it from her and held it to the light. Like the tank top I wore, it was shriveled as if it wouldn't come alive until stretched over flesh. You'd be able to see everything through it. There was a pale stain in what I took to be the crotch. My fingertips tingled where I held it. Aunt Cathy. "What is this?"

"She liked to wear things like that when she was home alone or under her clothes because it made her feel good." She took the purple thing and folded it back into the drawer. The next drawer was just stockings. The last of the little drawers Jess cracked open and shut quickly. "Well, we've got some things I don't think will be too shocking to wear. For emergency purposes like these. But it's going to be pushing you." 

"More than what you put me in earlier?"

"Point." She pulled out some scraps of fabric and laid them on the desk. "Bikini cut? Boyshorts? What do you feel like? Probably enough of the thong today."

"I ... don't know what any of that means."

"Boyshorts it is, and," she darted back to pull something out the dresser. "You remember this? The old nightgown she used to let you wear?"

The nightgown was white with little red hearts on it. "I remember this! I forgot all about it! That, that is good. A happy piece of the past." I picked it and the panties up.

Jess looked like she was waiting for something to happen. The tie on the robe had loosened again, but she kept the robe closed with a clutched fist. "Ummmm -"

"Harriet," I prompted.

"Harri. How ... close ... are we going to be this week?" Her body was tense.

"How close. Like ... sisters? Like the old days?"

She relaxed immediately. "Then get out while I change."

I walked out into the hall and next door to Aunt Cathy's bathroom. The wine had gone straight to my bladder and it was as good a time as any to cross another milestone - taking the piss in front of all those mirrors. 

Aunt Cathy's bathroom had a wall of mirrors, like some Frankenstein of 80's renovation. I could see my slut self everywhere. I could see her hard nipples everywhere. I could see her pert ass in tiny cutoffs everywhere. I pondered turning off the light but, no, that would be cheating. Besides, I was tipsy and kind of wanted to see myself.

I sucked in to unbutton the cutoffs and shimmied them down my hips. It was the sexiest thing I ever saw. I ripped the tank top off and my breasts bounced free. In the mirror I watched a teen with a flushed face and blond bob squeeze her thighs over a skimpy black thong. I ran my hands up my sides and slowly cupped my breasts until my nipples slid between my fingers. Fuck, my skin was so smooth. It was supposed to be rough and flaky. I squeezed each index and middle finger together, lightly pinching my nipples. In between panting breaths I moaned just a tiny bit.

It was the moan that set me free. I closed my eyes, spun around, and grabbed the cold sink with both hands. I had to snap out of it. This couldn't be who I was and I had to get control. Yet I knew that if a bull-cock man walked in right now ... he'd see me bent over, presenting my wet slit, ready to be taken from behind. And I think I -was- wet - I could feel a coldness where something slightly sticky was trying to glue the tops of my thighs together. All he'd have to do is yank my nasty thong aside and penetrate this slut to the core with hard cock. I wouldn't see him coming. I wouldn't be able to stop it. 

Even as something spasmed low in my abdomen, that thought was like a dash of cold water. The mood was broken. I opened my eyes and there was just a girl in the mirror, a tired girl. I stood up and she had breasts, just breasts. I pushed the thong down and sat on the toilet.

I had to kick the thong off to wipe. It wasn't just the urine - I had to dry off my inner thighs. It's just a vulva, I repeated to myself. It was ... plumper than before, at the airport, not that I was looking! There was more labia showing, more of ... everything. I could barely feel anything through the layers of toilet paper I used, but from the inside it felt ... like skin? The thought reassured me. It wasn't good or bad, just sensitive. Just skin.

The boyshorts looked like regular shorts, but when I pulled them up they slid right into place, stretched across my ass but cut away to leave a little bit of cheek at the bottom. The front was totally smooth. Smooth I could live with.

The old nightgown was tight around my shoulders, taut across my chest, and came down to an inch below my crotch. No wonder we stopped wearing these. Between the heart prints I could see the shadows where my nipples were. "She does this on purpose," I muttered. I brushed my teeth.

I picked up the thong to leave with the rest of Jess's borrowed clothes. It was ... moist. I sniffed and detected a pungent, spicy odor, an odor that was starting to be familiar to me. Slut. I had to leave it - there was nothing I could do.

Back in Aunt Cathy's room, Jess was at the desk, idly going through drawers, dumping things into a cardboard box. She had on a matching pair of boyshorts and a little spaghetti-strap tank top that stopped well above her bellybutton. She looked like a Victoria Secret model. She was way too hard on herself.

"Took you long enough. I found some things that might help you the next few days." She pointed at a little travel makeup kit. 

Jess turned to look at me, no, stare. I could feel it happening again, the beginnings of a blush, a tightening in my nipples.

She flipped open the makeup kit. "It's nice stuff, good brushes. You were about the same coloring, so the shades will look good on you. She'd want you to have it."

"Thanks, Jess. But that's it for now. I can't handle much more." I looked around Aunt Cathy's room. "I assume you're in here tonight?"

"I'm on the sofa. You're in here tonight." She laughed. "Unless you've got an objection besides 'but I like sleeping on sofas.' I can deal. Anything else?"

I thought for a second. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but, I feel like we used to be really close, and we drifted apart. Most of it was me being a crabby bitch, but it seems like you just let it happen, too? You really don't have to answer."




Harri: Face the Slut Within Ch. 02



"No. We should ask each other hard questions." She took a long moment before answering. "I'm five years older than you, but I still loved you. We were like sisters and all I had at home were boys. And when you felt good? It was better than that. But then I went to college and I was young and horny and confused and ... I didn't know what I wanted out of the people in my life, the people I loved."

All this, in front of my face, and I never saw the people in front of me. "Are - are you telling me you're gay?"

"No." Jess shook her head quickly, maybe a little sharply. "No. I'll admit to ... curiosity," and she stared right at me, "but I prefer to lodge my affections in unobtainable places, in people who don't really notice I'm alive. It's ... safer."

"Thank you."

"Night, Harri," she said with a bit of a sigh.

I closed the door behind her, then lay in bed on my back, thinking over everything she'd said. I was so confused, but the one thing I was sure of was that Jess didn't think any differently of me now than she did before. To her I was still Harriet. Or Harri. I just had no idea what that particular person had meant to her over the years.

Falling asleep was almost impossible for me on any night. Everything was wrong. I couldn't lie on my stomach, because my breasts were in the way. On my back my ass pushed my hips up, reminding me even more what was wrong. On my side my thighs were too far apart. It was this fucking new body. Anger gave me something to focus on.

I got up to get a drink of water, but stopped at the bedroom's closed door. Was that moaning I heard on the other side? I leaned closer, straining to hear ... just heavy breathing. Jess was asleep. That was all.

The faint cry of, "Oh God, oh fuck," sent me scurrying back to bed, cheeks burning, to bury my head under the pillow. Too close. Only sluts cared what other people did alone at night.

I awoke hours later in a tangle of sheets and blankets. It was a dream that woke me ... what was it. Hands, everywhere, just touching me. Soft hands, strong hands, girl hands ... boy hands. I ground my hips into the pillow between my legs. Fuck. I wasn't breathing hard because of the dream, I was breathing hard because I was on fire. Fuck!

I had woken on the edge of an orgasm and I couldn't stop it. I didn't ... want to. I had one hand clutched at the center of my chest. It flattened out until my fingers found and lightly pinched my thick slut nipple. A soft, animal, grunt broke the silence. Above all else, I had to keep silent. Rule number one: if a tree falls in the forest and it doesn't make a sound, did it really fall?

My thighs were squeezing around the pillow. I kept grinding my ... my ... fuck I couldn't even think of the medical term now. I was so wet. I could feel it everywhere. I could feel the cold damp on my asshole. I pinched my nipple again, harder. I couldn't stop. I whispered, "Fuuuuuck," quite aloud. I don't know if it was a curse or a plea.

I snaked my other arm down and forced it between my thighs. I shivered at the touch of my own skin. It wasn't just ... down there. Anywhere I touched left me aching for more. I imagined hands around my waist pulling me down to - to what I couldn't visualize. I squeezed my whole breast, my other hand worming closer to my center. My shoulders shrugged the blanket back. It smelled like jungle under the covers, like horny teen slut pussy.

This had been happening more frequently, maybe once a week for the last two months. I was in control during the day, but at night? In my dreams? I couldn't stop, but I had to have something. My hand was almost there. I had this - this devil's bargain with myself. I always made it in these occasions, always promised myself that it was the last time, that next time I'd be stronger. If I stayed on the outside of my panties, it wouldn't really be like I was touching myself. I wasn't really touching ... skin. I could've been just readjusting my panties. That's all I was doing. Readjusting. I grasped that thought like a life preserver as my traitorous hand found home.

The entire crotch of my panties was soaked. I palmed my whole mound and my middle finger sunk into the cleft, started pushing into ... somewhere. My entire body clenched. A little higher ... almost ... the bone of my knuckle finally pressed into ... fireworks behind my eyes. Thighs, arms, ass - I froze on the outside. I couldn't breath, but inside, spasms, over and over, trying to grab onto something and hold it in me. Then ...

It was finished. I could breathe again. I rolled onto my back, covered in sweat, legs splayed, nightgown pooled around my waist. I slept for real.

Until I awoke in the exact same position, unsure where I was. Was I supposed to be going to the hospital today? Dad would kill me if I missed another appointment. I cracked my eyes open. Aunt Cathy's room. I jerked upright.

Jess was in the doorway like a deer in headlights. "I - I thought I'd wake you. I made breakfast."

She had on the shorts I'd left in the bathroom. They were looser on her, like she said, but no longer. I could see the curved back of her panties under the fringe.

I looked down past my flat stomach. My legs were split wide open and the crotch of my own panties was pressed in enough to outline a very clear, dainty slit. I snapped my legs shut and slid them under the covers. 

"I -", but Jess was already gone.

She must know what I'd done. Maybe she didn't. I'd tossed and turned all night. Who's to say I didn't end up like that in my sleep? I knew she hadn't done any better last night. My stomach rumbled. "Screw it."

I hopped out of bed and tugged the nightgown over my hips. I was sticky with dried sweat, with dried - Last night wasn't my proudest moment, but I could admit I needed a shower. Out in the kitchen, Jess bustled around never quite looking at me. 

"Pancakes, eh?" My stomach grumbled again.

Finally, she stopped fussing about. "You do like them, don't you? I thought -"

"Oh it'll be the perfect breakfast for a long day at work." I glanced at the clock. "Damn, is that the time? I can't believe I slept that long."

She slid a steaming plate onto the bar. I perched on the nearest stool. She glanced over at me and her eyes darted for an instant down to my chest. Mine did the same. I was in front of the window, in direct morning sunlight. The nightgown might as well have been transparent.

"I would have woken you earlier," she said, "but I got an email from the estate sale people in town. There's a downed tree and they can't make the pickup and delivery today."

I slumped. "We're stuck here?"

"No-no, we can still get to town. I need to go to town, actually. For," and she gestured down at herself and yesterday's clothes, "things."

This is why she'd been so nervous, not because she'd been staring at me. "It wasn't your fault. Obviously."

"I still feel bad. It'll push us back a day, it'll mean a long hard couple of days to finish on time. I know this isn't exactly what you signed up for."

"Maybe not. But I'm still up for it. It's a bump, but we can get back up to speed. What're sisters for?"

That cheered her up. "I'm so glad. And ... I have to jump in the shower. You, too, I'd ... uh ... recommend. And if you don't want to stay here all day, you can come down to town with me. There's really nothing to do up here, but, I mean, I don't want to make you do anything."

I must have looked nervous.

"It's no pressure. It's just that you can. If you want to. I'd be right next to you the whole time."

"Maybe. You get into the shower and I'll seriously psych myself up for townies." I idly scratched myself and caught her staring. Fuck. My crotch. "Err, stubble." Fucking stubble.

"Don't forget to eat breakfast." Jess scampered off.

Pancakes did look good, but, four bites of the stack and I was stuffed. I was secretly relieved I no longer felt like I had to pack my face with anything in front of me. Don't tell my nutritionist! I looked around the room - Jess was being generous. There really was nothing to do up here than work, and without new boxes ...

Jess popped out of Aunt Cathy's hallway with a towel around her torso and another around her hair. "How was breakfast?"

"Good," I said. "Really good."

"Good!" She walked a few steps closer. "So, you want to come down to town with me?"

"Yeah. Yeah I think I do."

"Um ... since we can't do anything up here until they deliver tomorrow's boxes, would you mind if we planned to spend the night down there? I can drop you off back here instead, if you'd rather. No trouble."

I thought this was the plan - nights down in town. Did she think I didn't want to stay with her? What was she nervous about now? Who cared. I was riding high. "Sure, we can stay in town. Why not."

"Great! I'll get dressed and straighten up out here. You take a shower."

I padded over to Aunt Cathy's bathroom and was just about to pull off the nightgown when Jess swept past me.

"Just a sec." She scooped the dirty clothes of the floor. 

I saw her hand touch the thong I wore yesterday. "I -"

"No-no." Her nose wrinkled, like she caught a whiff of - "I'll be out of your hair."



Harri: Face the Slut Within Ch. 03



Jess shut the door behind me. There was no way she could miss what I did to her panties. One way or another, sooner or later, that pussycat was coming out of the bag.

Then it was me and the mirrors. You really could see everything in this nightgown. I turned around, stood on on my toes - yep, there was a flash of panty. But it didn't affect me like yesterday. I stripped the nightgown off. I could see a bare-breasted girl. I could see she had sexy panties on, but it wasn't slutty anymore. It was a grown woman named Harriet.

I bounced the weight of my breasts a little. Lifted them up, pressed them together into cleavage. Amazing. I slid the panties off and kicked them to the wall, then turned the water on in the shower. While I waited for it to warm up I looked back in the mirror.

This was still a little too much. I forced myself to turn full-on. Face - same. I made myself smile. Slut. Narrow shoulders. Breasts. Flat stomach with a hint of softness about it. Yay body fat! Gentle flare of hips. My eyes zeroed in where I knew they would. 

Fucking stubble. A clean line with a hint of pink. I hesitated, hands on my hips, then dropped them down to peel myself open a little. More pink. A clitoris. I was at the wrong angle for much more. I could rub myself off, right here, right now. I knew I could, but I felt no compulsion. My nipples were poking, but that was just because of the cold. I was starting to be able to tell the difference. Maybe I was starting to get a hold of things. Maybe I just needed that one-time ... burst ... to get through the trip. Maybe she wasn't about to break out.

After that, showering was easy. I kept nudging up the water temperature because the heat felt so good. I didn't have any problems at all until I got out and found there wasn't a towel. Jess had both.

I cracked the door open. The blast of cold air nearly killed me. I thought I had rock hard nipples before. "Jess?" Music from down the hall probably meant she couldn't hear me. Shit. I braced myself.

I ran down the hall, dripping, flopping the whole way. I leaned around the door frame so she wouldn't see anything. "Jess? Can I have a towel please?"

"What? Oh!" She hit the remote to kill the music. "Harri. Let me get that for you."

I reached to take the one she pulled off her head and lost my balance just enough that one whole, wet breast popped into view. I froze. She froze with the towel still inches out of my reach. I felt a flutter in my stomach and I wasn't sure it was just the cold affecting my nipples.

I leaned further, other breast sliding into view, like I wanted her to see me. Like I was a slut. I clutched the towel to my chest. "Thanks."

In the hallway I dried off quickly then wrapped the towel around me. Inside the room Jess blushed furiously.

"Hey," I said. "Not like you haven't seen just about that much before, right? Seeing a lot more of me this week? Don't worry about it. We're like sisters."

"You-you aren't doing that on purpose, are you?"

A slut would. "Doing what?"

"Flashing me like that. Is that what sisters do to each other?"

"Flashing you!" I'm a slut. "You're the one who keeps putting me in basically transparent tops." Making me look like a slut. "It's not my fault my ni-nuh, umm." Now I was blushing.

"I guess I'm just feeling a bit ... confused by all of this."

"You and me both. Sister. It's like you said. Young, confused, hor- well. I think we're both a little confused."

"And a little horny!" she blurted, then spun around.

That left me with her back and an empty room. She wore her dirty clothes from yesterday, down to the white panties my new eyes noticed peaking above her pants. 

"What can sisters do?" I asked. Fuck each other? "Can sisters help each other get dressed when they don't know what to wear? Can sisters dig through a dead woman's closet for emergency provisions?"

"Absolutely. Try picking something out from the closet. Give it a go." She went over to the dresser. "What color underwear do you want to try? Pick a color. Any color."

Simple. I wanted simple. Sluts didn't wear simple. "Gray."

At Carrie's closet I breezed past the skirts and dresses. Blue jeans would be a little ... young, I thought. Even from a forty-year-old's closet. I pulled out some khaki slacks and a basic white shirt with what looked like some ruffles on it. I held it out for Jess's approval.

"Absolutely not," she said. "Totally wrong."

"What?"

"Just - I can't even begin to describe. Here, let me." She took the clothes and handed me panties and ...

"A bra? I don't think -"

"Yes. Yes you do. Put it on." She turned to rehang the clothes and dig through the closet herself. "I'd guess you're edging into a C-cup, just like Aunt Cathy, so that's lucky. The rest is buckles and slides. With how ... responsive ... you are, trust me, it's for the best."

I pulled the panties up until they settled snug against me, then dropped the towel. I shrugged on the bra, dropped my breasts into the cups, then, "Jess? I need help."

"Huh?" She turned. "Oh Harry. Okay. You turn. No, other way. Okay give me your arms." She twisted me into position then guided my hands into hooking the bra shut. She spun me around again. "Now we ... adjust."

She tucked a bit, touched my tits!, then pulled, then ... it was like I had nothing on. "That's it?" I bounced a bit. I felt ... secure. "That's. Huh."

She glanced down. My gaze followed hers.

My nipples poked through like there was nothing there. "It's cold in here," I said.

"Unh huh." She handed me a jean skirt and a blouse with some embroidery on the front. "But first." She sat me down at the vanity and, in five minutes and the lightest touches of makeup had me looking completely ... beautiful. "You think you could do that on your own?"

"I think so." The steps had been simple, but the effect... "Thank you again, Jess." While bending over to pick up the skirt, I scratched myself and caught her staring. Again. Fucking stubble.

"Are you - okay down there? You keep ... itching."

"It's - I feel like -" I had to come clean. I'm a slut. "I can't stand ... pubic hair. I just ... got ... it, you know. And I know it's something I have to get used to. But it's this deep, psychological ... argh. I hate shaving, hate everything ... down there. But I really hate stubble, and there wasn't a razor in the shower. And there you go."

"Awwwh." Jess looked like she wanted to hug me. I might've welcomed it. "Baby girl's all grown up."

"You're not helping."

She laughed. "Harri, it's not deep or psychological. I don't know of a girl who hasn't thought the exact same thing at some point in her life, just usually at thirteen. It's not really different that what was there before. It's just hair."

"It is different. It's ... more."

"Well, I can't pretend I keep most of mine. Have you thought about waxing?"

"I ... w-waxing?" I'd never even heard of -

"Yeah, waxing. Sounds like the perfect solution for you. No stubble, no maintenance for weeks. Best part is, someone else does it for you."

"W-what? Someone else?"

"Yeah! Matter of fact, I swear I saw - hold on one sec." She ran out to the bathroom and came back a little box. "Home waxing kit. I can't believe Aunt Cathy tried this on herself."

I was so lost. This was moving way too fast for me. "Y-you mean I should -" 

Jess flipped through the contents of the box. "No, no. I'll do it for you." She saw the look on my face. "Get over yourself, Harri. This is nothing. My college roommate and I did this for each other once a month. Now I go to the salon in town - really. Nobody cares."

Her no nonsense attitude urged me to believe she was right, that I wouldn't be a slut just because I wanted her to stare at my ... "What should I do?"

"Put your top on, panties off, wrap that towel around, and meet me in the kitchen. And bring your panties and skirt for afterward." She took the box to the kitchen.

I did what she said, but thought long and hard about walking out the bedroom and into the kitchen. On the one hand, this was exactly what I wanted - to simply not have to think about it anymore. On the other, it was exactly what I wanted - to show her ... me. I tentatively left the bedroom.

Jess stood at the stove, warming something in a pot of water. "You can use the microwave," she said, "but I always found it was harder to get the temperature right. Hop up on the bar over there. And I ought to tell you, this is going to hurt a bit. Worth it, but just so you know."

I stepped up one of the stools, then sat on the edge of the counter. If it hurt then it meant it wasn't - I wasn't - doing this just so Jess could see - fuck, I was turning into such a slut.

"Lie back. Feet right on the edge."

If I did that the towel wouldn't cover me any more. She was down there. I closed my eyes.

She set something beside me, then I felt her hands on my calves. "Upsy daisy." 

It was done - full display. Well? What did she think? What was - oh, that must be the wax. There was a little stick spreading it around. It wasn't her finger. She pressed something thick to my skin, something I could barely feel. That wasn't so bad.

"Ready?"

"I - I think so."

"First one's a bitch, but I'll go fast after that."

I couldn't believe she was -right there-. I felt her pick up the edge, then, "Shit!" Fuck, that hurt. "Shit, shit, shit, shit." And that was just the first one. She was already pressing the next strip down. "Shit!" No warning that time. I almost called it off right then and there, but she kept going - the rest weren't as bad, maybe because she'd caught most of the hair in those first two or I was simply too overwhelmed. I stopped thinking about her, about where she was.

Her hands on my calves, putting my legs back down, told me she was done. "I'm going to go pack up some clothes for the week, okay? You go to the bathroom, take your time, clean yourself off, get dressed, whatever. I'll be ready to leave when you are."

I didn't want to move. I especially didn't want her to see my face. I waited until she left the room, then gingerly slid off the counter. I felt ... well, it didn't hurt to walk. I hadn't been punished for being a slut. I picked up my panties and the skirt and went to the bathroom.

It was just like she said - bare. Nothing more, nothing less. Bright red, but ... I don't know what I expected. I peeled off a few remaining bits of wax - seeing exactly why she left this part for me - but it didn't hurt a bit. Panties were ... a little ouch, but receding. Weeks with no stubble. Compared to the rest of the morning, the skirt was easy. Back in the living room, she had some socks and boots for me and waited while I put them on.

"So you were saying you won't have an ID to get alcohol when you get to college?" She didn't sound embarrassed or awkward or anything.

"Dad's master plan. I guess."

"Since we got a day to kill, I think I can help," she said, and left it at that.

The car ride down was fun. We had the windows down, so we couldn't really talk, but it was a unique experience to feel hair streaming back from my head like that. Being in a skirt wasn't that ... bad. It didn't really feel like anything. I was glad she'd picked something a little restrictive around the legs - it kept my knees together, more ladylike.

First stop was her apartment in town. I suppose I'd seen pictures from when she moved in, but I'd never been there. It was a charming one bed, one bath on the second floor of an old house. She had her own entrance at the top of a spiral staircase.

"Sorry about the mess," she said. "I wasn't expecting ... well, I certainly wasn't expecting this. I'll sleep on the sofa tonight. You'll have the bed. No worries." She picked up scattered items of clothing - skirts, shorts, wadded panties -along the way to her bedroom. Looked like she had the habit of leaving things wherever she took them off. She left the bedroom open, but the closet door blocked my view.

The room was all really vintage wood paneling. She had a big sofa and a coffee table covered in thick books, literature, history. I should mention she and her brothers are borderline geniuses and were only stuck in this tiny town because of money. She popped out again in a skirt that went half way to her knees and another plain t-shirt.

"Where are we going, anyway?"

"Matt's." She pulled out her phone and hit a single button. "I'm going to be there in five. Got a little problem you can help with."

We walked the three blocks to his place, a giant loft over a warehouse where thrown his gauntlet firmly in the ring of art. I think their dad professed to hate it, but I always thought he was secretly proud of the boy for going his own way.

Jess stopped me outside his place. "What you're about to see I - please don't tell Dad, okay?"

I nodded, not a little worried, and she led me up. 

First thing Matt did was pick Jess up and spin her around. "How's my sister?" 

I don't know when the last time I'd seen Matt was, but it hadn't been recently. He couldn't make the funeral for some reason that sounded stupid at the time. Despite them being fraternal twins and, obviously, opposite sexes, the resemblance was uncanny. Same height, same hair, almost the same face. Matt's was a little more angular. He was wider in the shoulders, maybe an inch or two taller, and, while just as thin as Jess, made of long, lean muscle. He had a white undershirt on that showed off an intricate shoulder tattoo to great effect.

"And who's your friend?" Matt held out a hand to me.

I just stood there. I didn't have an answer for that. He looked at Jess.

"Matt, that's Harri. Harriet. I - Jesus, Matt. Goddammit."

"What? Oh fuck. Fuck, I'm sorry Harriet. It's just you - fuck. I'm sorry. I didn't even -"

I just shook my head. "Don't - don't worry about it, Matt. I get that reaction a lot. It's ... okay, really."

"Wow. I'd heard you were better, but. Seriously. What happened?"

And so began an explanation that took the better part of two hours. With snacks. He wanted to know all the details of my treatments, fascinated by the idea no one could figure out what had actually helped. It was a rare subtype of leukemia, one people really hadn't put a lot of research into.

At the end he said, "Sounds like no one will ever figure that out. But still wow. And good for you! But if you had to pick something to blow a one-in-a-million shot on, wouldn't you've rather won the lottery?"

It was just the right seamlessly confident thing to say to break the tension. We all burst out laughing, and ... it felt really good to laugh.

"But what -do- you need me for?"

"Well it's like this." I hooked my thumbs back at myself. "I'm heading off to college in two weeks, and being at death's door has kind of left me with a taste for the demon alcohol. Dad was great with it, at home, but being at school is kind of going to put a crimp in my style. Jess said you might be able to get me some ID?"

"Riiiight." He looked at Jess. "Easy as tacos."

"Tacos?" I asked.

Jess stood up. "The one-minute photo place is right next to the taco stand. Matt's addicted."

It was on the corner of his block. They made me go in alone with a twenty for the photo - so no one would notice Matt there too many times - while they ordered tacos. It was my first time out in public. And I was alone. Wearing a skirt. Looking like a girl.

It's something I wouldn't have thought twice about two days ago, probably not even once. Let them stare at the freak, their fascination was their own damn problem. Now? I felt tiny and vulnerable and like every eye was on me. The rows of shelves were canyons I couldn't see over. The man behind the counter was almost licking his chops. I struggled to speak louder than a whisper.

Yet nothing happened. In a few minutes out was out in the warm sun again and nobody looked twice. I looked like a girl, not a slut, was treated exactly like a girl, not a slut, and nobody thought anything otherwise ... and I was still okay. Not a slut. Matt and Jess met me on the corner with tacos and, just like that, we were back at his place.

He lived in one half of the loft and the other half was partitioned off for his art. I saw a room for painting and a room for sculpture, two more were curtained off entirely, but the last one caught me by complete surprise. He had computer equipment as good, if not better, than anything I'd seen in a hospital lab. 

I handed Matt the pictures from the corner store. "What exactly are you going to be giving me. How do you pay for all this?"

Matt took them with a look of wide-eyed innocence. "Fake IDs." He dropped the picture strip on the scanner. "I need a name."

"Harri," Jess said.

"Harry? For her?"

"No," Jess said. "Harri-with-an-i. Short for Harriet."

"I like it!" Matt said.

I didn't. It wasn't a fake name - that I could live with. This was too much like a change in who I was. Me, slutified. Harri-with-an-i, best friend with Bambi. With Marrie, that fucking slut bitch.

Jess pulled me aside to point out some of his specific pieces of laminating equipment. "It's not just to get past a bouncer. Matt's are so good the layered decals fool the scanners."

"Trade secrets!" Matt said. He handed me a new ID, the plastic still hot at the edges. Just like that.

Jess pulled it out of my hand. "Harri." She giggled. "It's a beautiful picture. And just turned twenty-one!"

"The default age for my local market." Matt plucked it out of her hands and gave it back to me. "I could go with a well-preserved twenty-three if you wanted a best friend. Or a really developed fifteen if you were feeling naughty, but that would kind of defeat the purpose."

"Twenty-one'll do." I watched the shimmering surface refract the light and fought down a blush. "But why all the equipment? Not for this, surely."

Matt led us across the way to the next partitioned area, where he ripped off the covering curtain. Inside were ... things. It tickled the back of my brain. There was something very familiar on display. They were these blocks of translucent material with these shimmering shapes inside. I walked around one. He'd laminated hundreds, maybe thousands of sheets together, wrinkling them so that, layer after layer, figures and shapes would emerge. I was getting closer.

"Automated," I said. "You've got to start with something in the computer."

"Yep. My masterpieces." 

He watched me. They both watched me. Then I got it.

"That's the cover engraving from Consolation of Philosophy! That's a ... Boethius cover engraving!"

Now they stared. Matt grinned from ear to ear.

Jess poked me in the shoulder. "How did you do that? Nobody can do that."

My mind reeled. I pointed at the next one. "Proslogion? What are you doing with these?"

Matt still smiled. "It can't just be a technique. I wanted to use something with heavy personal meaning, but also something that would convey meaning and intent, if not explanation, to a viewer." He laughed. "Not that anyone's supposed to recognize them." 

Jess poked me again. "How did you do that?"

I poked her back. "How come you never told me about this?"

"Because it's illegal?"

"Not that." I pointed at masterpieces. "This."

"I don't follow."

"Nobody reads these books. They don't even show up in college. I've never met anyone, not even my dad, who - not that I meet many people - but -"

"Slow down!" Matt said. "They're just books. So a lot of people haven't read them. They're not dead."

"Just books! Do you know what the Prosogion meant to me?"

"Let me guess," Jess said, "you totally got sucked in by the aspects of -"

In retrospect, it probably shouldn't have been that surprising. Our mothers were best friends, had many of the same classes and influences in college, would've had many of the same books floating around the house when we were kids. And why would it come up? If you're embarrassed about what you're reading - and I was, because 'nobody read those books' - you're not going to suddenly start talking about them to just anyone. Especially not the people you used to play dress up with, especially after you stop playing with them and only participate in Ironic teenage pastimes.




Harri: Face the Slut Within Ch. 03



Matt had no more food at his place than the snacks he'd already given us. At Jess's it took eight hours, delivery thai, and two bottles of wine for us to run out of conversation. And we probably didn't run out of conversation, only steam. We'd been frantic, then we'd been excited, and now we were tired. Finally, we all leaned back and raised a glass. 

"Now you're going to help change the world through medieval art," I said.

"Harri, truly, truly, my mind is blown." Matt yawned hugely. "I may in fact have to start over on some of those, just because of tonight. The Dante series is - well, it's shit now."

He yawned again. Jess picked up the glasses and jerked her head toward her tiny kitchen. 

I picked up a few things and followed her. "That was probably the best time I've ever had in my life."

"I'm thrilled, I am, but ... go easy on the boy. I think you could talk circles around him and ... if he gets too frustrated he'll scrap the whole thing. I don't know if he has another clean start in him."

"If you say so. I think he's right on track, though. I mean, he's right about his interpretation of Dante - in my opinion - but as for the rest?"

"Thanks."

In the living room, Matt was curled up on the sofa fast asleep. Even snoring lightly. 

"Shit," Jess said. "He always does this."

"Should we wake him?"

"You can't." She yanked a blanket off the chair and lay it over him. "He's go go go and then he just crashes like this. Our whole lives. Then he'll wake up and slip out the front door without a word. Bastard." She looked around the room. "I'll ... sleep on the floor in here, I guess."

"Don't do that. I'll -" I pointed at the bedroom.

"It's a double bed. Not even a queen."

"Roomies?" I felt awful, putting her out, but I wasn't going to sleep on the floor. "Sisters can be roomies." 

Jess looked at me, looked at Matt, looked at the floor, then nodded assent. She picked up the overnight bag from Aunt Cathy's and took it to the bedroom.

"Bathroom for me first," I said. My back and chest itched under the bra strap. Long day. I used her toothbrush because, well, why not, and washed my face. The makeup came right off.

The bedroom was tiny. There was barely enough room double bed, a chest, a nightstand, and a bookshelf with another library of big, thick books. Jess was packing her bag into the closet, which meant I barely had enough room to stand in once I closed the bedroom door. She'd already taken off her skirt and, when she turned around, obviously her bra. I could see the slight bumps of the large nipples on her smallish breasts. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Harri." Somehow the way she said it - I could hear the 'i' trimming away my control. "Harri, however it happened, I'm really glad I'm getting the chance to ... know you better. Matt and I - we're lonely in this town. I'm glad you're back in our lives."

I tried to keep things light. "What's the nightclothes situation, oh overnight packing queen. I have high hopes it's not khaki."

That got a smile, which faded. She picked up something off the bed, something red, and held it up. "I wanted to stick you in something fun." It was a gauzy, lacy, corset bustier kind of a thing, with dangling silk garter straps. In other words, it was pure sex. Pure slut.

"You want me to wear that?" I asked in a little voice, stomach aflutter.

She turned almost as red as the bustier. "I- it- it was for if you were alone in here. If you wanted something ... fun. If you wanted to do ... ah ... be alone. Ah."

I suspected she meant in case I wanted to fuck myself like a slut. "I don't ... have fun. I mean, I'm having fun, with you, but not the ... alone ... part." Now I was blushing.

She set it gently on the floor, folded. "Oh, well, I just thought. I mean ... this morning, I thought I thought. I - I mean. No, I didn't mean. It wasn't for now. Not like this, if - if that's what you thought I meant."

I didn't know what I was thinking. I didn't know what I was feeling. I know I didn't hate myself. Even with her brother in the next room, it might have been ... disappointment? "Jess, what you saw this morning, what you've been seeing of me, I - I've been getting ... urges, can I say that? But I'm trying to ... maintain a little ... control over things."

"I didn't mean to imply I wanted you to do anything you don't want to! I mean, I tease, sure, but I don't want you to do anything. I mean, you could. That would be fine. I can see why you would want to, if you wanted to, I mean. I-"

"No, Jess. To be honest I have had, um, engaged in a ... a little fun." As if you could become just a little slut. "And this is very hard for me. I'm not who I used to be. I wasn't even used to who I used to be, like that, in that way, and now? But it was ... fun." Slutty fun. "A little ... fun." A ton.

She seemed to accept that ramble as an answer.

"Shit, that was awkward." I had a thought. "Was that all there was to it? Just the ... wrap around thing?"

"No, there were stockings and panties to go along. But that was the big part. The ... fun part."

"So give me the panties." So I could be a little slutty?

She tossed them over to me, quizzical expression on her face.

I reached under my skirt, hooked my thumbs over the waistband of the ones I wore and slid them down. "I can compromise for the spirit of the outfit." I stepped into the red panties and pulled them up. Jess's eyes followed them the whole way. I didn't realize how small they were until I felt the single braided string slide up my ass. I had to squirm a little to get it to set right and I don't think it was ... covering everything. I told myself not to bend over. I told myself I didn't want to. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Slut.

"Do you have a shirt or something I could wear?" Or do you just want me naked? I unbuttoned my blouse.

"Of course!" She turned again to dig something out of her closet. She'd changed her panties at some point today, too. They were pink, full in the front with a big band around the top, but in the back it was little more than a strip. The style probably had a fancy name, but I'd never seen anything like them.

I took the blouse off and dropped the skirt, so I was in my underwear when she turned around again. My nipples perked up immediately. She tossed me the shirt and I turned around to undo my bra. I don't know why I turned around. She'd seen everything already - some force of habit, some tiny bit of me left. I heard her climb into bed, but could feel her staring at my nearly-naked ass nonstop. Don't bend over. Slut.

I pulled the t-shirt on. It came down to right above my waist. She did her best to find me something red, something to match, but this was worn and faded into being almost pink. I looked down. And it was almost transparent and my nipples were on full display. I squeezed my eyes shut. I'm such a fucking slut. The tiny panties -were- transparent. I can't believe I didn't look before I put them on. I can't believe it still mattered to me after she'd already ... seen everything this morning.

I sat down on the bed, back to her, and scooted over to lie down without every looking at her. "Night, Jess. And thank you."

She shut off the light. "Night, Harri." She rolled over and we drifted off to sleep back to back.

That night it happened again. I'd been in another vivid dream, a scene from one of the old pornos I used to watch over and over again. It was such a simple thing, then, watching it happen. A simple scene - that's why I watched it over and over again. It was a close up of a woman climbing over a guy and she was so wet he plunged his raging cock in with a single stroke. I watch it over and over and never feel a thing other than a slight twinge of disgust. Now? I felt a fever. And an itch, and -

I was on my back and Jess had one arm behind my neck and her head on my shoulder. Her hair tickled my cheek and her breasts pressed against my slender arm. This bed was too small for two people. My legs were spread wide open with one thigh caught between hers. I had one hand trapped against her stomach and the other lay on my lower belly, stuck below her arm. 

I wouldn't be able to move a muscle without moving her, but I could see. In the street light through the window I could see my - my vulva. Yes I had the medical term back. My smooth, waxed vulva. I could see a faint glisten. Either the panties were too flimsy to really wear or I was too ... swollen. They'd slid to the side and I could feel a drop of moisture tantalizingly slip to the crack of my ass.

The moment kept replaying over and over in my mind. She was so wet the cock plunged in with a single stroke. My nipples were on fire. I was the wet one. Just admitting it led to a spasm inside me. And that drop quivered - I shifted my hips just a little. Slut.

Jess mumbled something softly in my ear and shifted her thighs. The skin of her belly was a little sweaty where I could feel it. Her hand nudged downward, closer to my pu- closer to down there. She'd been there before. I wanted her there again. I shouldn't move, but I had to do something - I was -

I slid my hand out from under hers, leaving her arm flat across my skin and her fingertips almost caressing the inner corner of my thigh. I lifted my hips up just a little bit, just so I could pull the gauzy thong straight. It wouldn't be much, but I had to do at least that. My devil's bargain. This was going to be the last time. Still the back of my fingernail grazed the wet mess between my legs. My whole body shivered and my worst fear came true.

"Harriet?" Jess murmured, stirring awake. "Harri? Are you o - oh my -"

I froze. In the light through the window this would look bad. With my hand like that it would look like I was -

"Oh my God you're so hot," she whispered right into my ear. I could feel her lips move. I shivered again. "Don't stop. Please."

She squeezed my thigh between hers, then released it. Without the tension, mine slid up until she trapped it again, against ... was that ... She ground her hips into my thigh and there was no mistaking the wet smear on my skin.

"Oh fuck don't stop," she whispered. She settled into a rhythm of squeeze and grind. My thigh flexed against her in response.

I didn't even know what she was talking about then, me or her. My hand didn't care. My fingertip dragged across the wet folds of my - "I can't," I said. "I - I don't." I knew she could feel my hand move on her arm, could see it even.

"You do. You want to." Her lips were pressed against my ear. She barely moved them to speak.

I arched my back, thrusting my nipples up to I don't know what invisible fulfillment. It didn't help. The moment from the dream replayed itself, except this time I was so wet the raging cock plunged into me in one stroke.

"I have to stay on the outside," I pleaded.

"The outside of what, baby." She was grinding faster. "Just let go. I want you to."

She didn't understand. I didn't understand. "That's a pu- a pu-" My fingertips still dragged across the messy folds between my legs. I knew she knew it.

"Say it Harri. I know you want to."

That damned tiny i. Her fingers were so fucking close on my sweaty skin. I wished she would just - "That fucking pussy. I have to stay outside of the panties. I need to. That's the rule. To stay in control." It made no sense to me.

"You don't want to do that, Harri." Jess savagely pulled my thong to the side. "What are you going to do now? You want to come, don't you baby. You're going to touch it." She started grinding even faster.

I mewled my frustration. "I need to -" I sounded like a baby. I sounded like a desperate slut.

Her fist was against my thigh, clutching the only layer of protection I had between me and - my hand was still poised, finger extended.

"What do you need, baby. Say it. Tell me what you need."

"I need to - oh, fuck - I need to come. Jess I need to come so bad. I can't stop."

"So don't stop, Harri." She was panting in my ear. Me saying her name unlocked something, gave her permission. Gave her control. "You don't want to stop."

"I can't. It's a pu-pussy." My hand was getting so tired.

Her hips were moving so much the tugging of the thong in her fist had my hips rocking, too. "Who's pussy, baby. Who has a wet pussy."

"My-my pussy."

"Who has a cunt, Harri. Say it."

"I - I do." My voice was so tiny.

She groaned. "What kind of cunt is it, Harri. Tell me."

"It's a - a, unnh," I spasmed. My fingertip brushed my - "It's my wet, messy cunt, Jess."

"You want to, Harri."

"I need to."

"You need to what, Harri. Say it, baby." Her mouth was open wide, now. Her lips were around my ear. My earlobe dangled in her mouth.

"I need to - oh, fuck - touch my pussy. I need to touch - oh - fuck my pussy." With that my fingers and hips closed the distance. Wet heat was the first sensation. I was volcanic. My finger slid up and - "Fuck, my clit. Fuck, I have a clit. Fuck, I'm so hot." I was almost crying in frustration.

"What do you need, baby." Her tongue hit my earlobe. She was licking my earlobe. She had her tongue on me.

"I need to - oh, fuck - come." My finger slid down, up again and around my little clitty, down until, after a moment poised at the edge of a dark wet abyss, I plunged it right into me. 

She was kissing the side of my face, wetly kissing my jaw, in between grunts. Her pussy slid up and down my thigh. "Say. What. You. Need. Oh. Baby."

On the upstroke of her hips, against her stomach my hand wedged into the waistband of her panties. I thought I felt the edge of oily hair.

I slid another finger in me just as easily. I jammed them in until my palm bounced off my clit. "I need to - oh, fuck - I need to - fffffuck." Oh God. I moaned.

"Oh Harri, oh Harri, oh Harri." She wasn't moving anymore. She was squeezing my thigh with the tips of my fingers inside her panties.

"I need to - ffffuck - I need to ffffuck." I could hear the words I was saying, but they weren't the words I wanted. I could feel things moving inside of me and they weren't enough. There was the image again, me, legs spread on my back, a giant cock sliding into my pussy. I could feel it. I could see it all. "Oh fuck. I need to fuck. Oh fuck. I need to fuck. Fuck me, fuck me. Oh Jess, fuck me."

I exploded into an orgasm just as Jess came down from hers. She unclenched her fist ... down there, trapping my fingers inside me. I was aware of her fingers on the outside of my slick thong, stealing my trick, keeping my fingers moving to prolong my torture.

I was sweaty. I was frozen. My fingers still rammed, splitting me open. "Fuuuuuck," I squeezed out from between clenched teeth.

"Let it out, Harri," she said. 

She rolled up on her elbow, freeing my arm. Suddenly, I could breath. She leaned over me and when her lips touched mine I passed out in cold disappointment. 



Harri: Face the Slut Within Ch. 04



I awoke, spooning Jess in the morning light. Bare shoulders and the smooth skin of her back told me she'd taken her shirt off in the night. What happened last night didn't bother me, not yet. It had been too much like a dream and I wasn't awake enough for embarrassment. She never actually touched me, after all, not ... in that way. And she just used me to help her a tiny bit - I had nothing to do with it. I had a hand curled right in the middle of her chest. All I could feel was softness.

There was a noise from the other room, the clicking of a gently closed door - Matt slipping off as predicted. That she knew him so well made me smile. She mumbled a little, snuggling back against me. My hand slipped a bit and I could feel her nipple against my wrist. I didn't want to move. If anything, I wanted to get out of bed, take off my stupid pink shirt, and climb right back in. Instead, I dozed.

Later, she slid away from me onto her back, leaving me with one leg thrown across her thighs and one hand half-palming her breast. When I opened my eyes she was staring into them.

"Harri," she half sighed.

"Jess," I whispered.

We didn't move for a long time. She licked her lips. It got my hopes up.

"Your hand is kind of ... on me. And I ... took my shirt off." She stated facts like it implied a question.

"So?"

"Is this how ... sisters ... sleep?"

I was starting to feel tension in her body as she woke up. Maybe this was all wrong. "I don't know. I've never been a sister before."

This wasn't the answer she was looking for. I tried to turn it around onto her. "What do sisters do on sleepovers?"

She just stared at me, a little more harshly.

I asked another question. "Do sisters ... wake each other up? On sleepovers."

Her broad nipple hardened, half under my hand. If I was a slut I could take her right now. She would let me. I could caress nipple, and pinch it, or I could move my hand away entirely. Those were two answers.

Jess's eyelids slid to half-mast. "You woke me last night. What were you doing? Is that what sisters do?"

Finally, a hard truth I could land on. "I don't know what I was doing. I don't know what I am doing, not at anything. You help me ... a lot. But I don't know what I'm doing."

Her expression was a mixture of hurt, embarrassment, disappointment ... and anger. I never thought she'd be more vulnerable than I was. There were tears in her eyes when she tried to roll away from me. 

I held her down with my arm and my leg. "Jess, I couldn't do this - any of this, couldn't have done anything the last two days, without you. You've been everything to me."

The phone rang in the other room. She slid away and I let her go. She left me cold in a warm bed. I heard her talking on the phone, but I couldn't make out any of the words.

I idly slid my hand down the front of my thong into a sticky, but freshly wet, mess. I had to go to the bathroom. I focused on the feeling of the finger sliding inside me. It was no different than sliding a finger inside my mouth - I guess? - just the mouth was in a different place, a different shape, and maybe a sucking a little. My hips flexed involuntarily. It was a tight tunnel, but I couldn't tell what the big deal was, why it had meant so much last night. With Jess.

I heard her say goodbye and pulled my hand out. It wouldn't do to be seen, caught, again like that. I wasn't a slut. She walked into the bedroom, kleenex in one hand and breasts on full display. She stood, legs a little apart, and the front of her panties slightly discolored. 

"That was Matt," she said. "He woke up inspired and wants to sketch something out before he meets up at Aunt Cathy's."

"Aunt Cathy's," I said. "Work."

"Yeah, well, life goes on, Harriet." I wondered what she meant by my full name. "I need a shower. You?"

"Yeah," I said.

"I'll leave a towel." She turned and pulled her panties down as she walked, flashing me her ass like it meant nothing, stepping out and leaving them on the floor. Like we were just sisters. 

I threw back the covers and reluctantly climbed out of bed. The first thing I did was pry my thong down and reseat it so it covered as much as it was going to. I caught a glimpse in the mirror - totally transparent. She'd be able to see every detail of my wet, juicy slit. Well fuck her.

I still threw together breakfast for us, just some cut up fruit and toast. I was gaining an instinct for how little I needed to eat. Jess came out in a towel and a brushed past her in the hallway to the bedroom.

"Work clothes in the bag?" I asked

"Yeah," she said from the other room. "T-shirt and jeans. Your favorite."

I bent over straight from the hips for the bag, knowing exactly what I was exposing. A sister wouldn't look. Jess did, I saw from between my knees.

In the bathroom I dropped the bag on the floor, then stripped out of the t-shirt and thong. I caught my image in the mirror. I looked like I'd just been fucked. I looked ... used, no. I looked ... disappointed. I looked away.

Jess left a towel, but it was the damp one she'd used on her hair. It smelled faintly of whatever shampoo I'd just used. We were so much alike. Inside the bag were white boyshorts, a simple white bra, some short-ish stylishly ripped jeans, a t-shirt with a logo from a company I worked for right out of college, and some sandals. Work clothes. I put on the light touches of makeup like she showed me and didn't do too bad a job at it, even if I did say so myself. I left my nightclothes on the floor, just like she did.

"Ready?" she said when I stepped out. She wore a variation on the same thing I did. Baggy work clothes.

I nodded. 

We drove the whole way in silence. The estate company had already picked up the loaded boxes - Jess and Matt left them in the garage - and dropped off a new set of empties. Other than pointing them out so we could carry them down to the basement, Jess never uttered a word.

It was when she started rearranging Christmas ornaments in the same box for the third time that the silent treatment got to be a bit much for me. "Jess, you said we have to be blunt and that we were going to see a lot more of each other this week, even some shocking things. You said we had to be honest -"

"So be honest! Do you know what you do to me? Do you think I do ... that with everyone?" She sniffed. "Sorry. I don't mean to sound so ... but so what? You're healthy now. You need my help this week. You're horny and confused and I don't want to hurt you. And you keep saying we're like sisters, Harri, but but you keep ... f-flaunting yourself. And sisters don't ... come for each other." She took a deep breath. "Did you even like it? Because I - I liked it. I ... liked it a lot. Because it was you." She watched me. "Were you just ... using me? Was I just ... there?"

"I-"

"Because I need to need to know, Harriet." Her shoulders shook. "Harri," she said a little softer, almost pleading me.

I heard the difference. It was like she was asking me to choose. "I - I liked it a lot," I said in my little girl voice, cheeks burning. And I didn't hate myself. It was okay to like it. She made it okay.

She was blushing too. "Tell me. Tell me what you liked." Her voice had gone breathy.

"I - I liked it ... when you ... told me what to do." I was such a baby. "I liked it when you made me ... say things."

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Yeah. And I liked it when -" but an echoing bang on the door interrupted us. "Fuck!"

She grinned, still flushed. "That's my brother." 

She left me alone to collect myself. What had I done. Did I like telling her I was a slut?

Matt already had a truckload of boxes to move up the stairs to the garage, then each of us worked on our own for the day. The strain was completely gone between Jess and I. She smiled whenever we caught each other's eye. I smiled back. I took albums and music paraphernalia. Jess stayed on holiday decorations. Matt jumped right on old keepsakes and mementos - tricky, because you had to really think about what might be worth something to anyone else. We had so many things to do it wasn't until late afternoon that Matt realized he'd left the crucial packing tape back in town.

"Shit. I'm sorry girls."

"Don't worry about it. We all put in a long day. We'll just get an early start tomorrow, tape up the boxes in the garage."

"I can't do that. You both worked hard and finished your parts. You should celebrate, relax. I'm the letdown tonight." He ran his hand through his hair. "Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to run back into town and grab a bite for myself, then run back up here and work tonight. I'll catch some z's on the sofa upstairs, and we'll all be ready bright and early. How's that sound."

Jess was a little surprised, too. "Sounds like you got a bug up your ass about this, bro."

"Well, I guess I like the idea of this change the world attitude." He grinned and jogged up the stairs.

Jess and I wrapped up a few little things and then it was the two of us simply watching each other.

"What do you want to do?" she asked.

"Celebrate, I guess? I feel like we earned something, but a week ago it'd mean breaking out the good scotch and, maybe, playing cards with Dad. What do you do?"

She laughed. "I always order a pizza, eat one piece while I change, then bring the rest to the bar at the end of the street. They always have a local band playing. It's not too crowded, but I think it's fun. We could do that."

I must have looked as nervous as I felt. 

"Come on," she said. She grabbed my hand and held it as we climbed the stairs. "You could be the sexiest tart in the world and no one would bother you there. In fact ..."

"What?" She wanted me to be ... what? Her fingers around mine gave me strength.

"You are going to order a pizza for my place, we are going to get all dressed up, and we are going to go listen to some music and dance and celebrate."

I pulled out the phone book. She handed me her credit card.

"We ought to make this fast," she said. "In fact, let me get a little suitcase. I'll get you a couple of days worth of stuff. Some real clothes you could bring home if you want. It's kind of silly to keep scavenging every day."

"I'll order the pizza."

I went to the kitchen. Was I really that cut off from the world? That I was taking clothes from a dead aunt because they were better than anything I owned?

"Hi," I chirped like a real little teenager when the manager picked up the phone. "I'd like to, err, order a pizza?" Okay, I was laying it on a little thick. He never noticed, just took the order and copied down my numbers.

"Hey, Harri." Jess stuck her head out of Aunt Cathy's door with a twinkle in her eye. "Come see."

I trotted over. "What you got?"

"We're going to be sexy little tarts tonight, so I want you to describe the set of fantastic lingerie you imagine wearing under your clothes. Aunt Cathy's got just about everything, so I should be able to find a match. Nothing makes you feel better than knowing you've got something unbelievable under your clothes."

I liked the sound of this. Sexy, but not on the outside. I could do this in front of people. "What will you have on?"

"This stuff?" She shook her head. "Not for me. I never think it looks that great - not like it will on you. But I'll love knowing you've got something on."

"Not fair! I totally disagree. Trust me on this. I've got what you might call a dispassionate eye on the situation." It was ... mostly true. Chalk it up to years of angrily dissecting the body of any women who allowed herself to be photographed. But Jess didn't make me angry. "You have the body of a lingerie model, it's just they don't look like normal women."

"A dispassionate eye, eh?" Jess wavered. "But even if I wanted something, none of her stuff will fit me. I'm too tall. Too ... small. I would look ridiculous."

"So find something that doesn't have a top. Something that accentuates your height or the length of your torso. And make sure it has a ... a garter." I blushed. And I'd been doing so well. Slut.

"You like stockings on ... your ... girl?" She blushed, but didn't let me answer. She pulled something out of one drawer - I saw a flash of black and ... snaps? - and a pair of stockings out of another. "And what about you?"

I was glad she still had her back turned. Fuck, I was such a slut. "I already know what I want to wear. It's still at your place."

Now she turned. "What -- oh. Oh." She stared at me, stared openly at my nipples poking through my shirt. "I know the perfect dress," she whispered. She pushed me out of the room and didn't let me see.

In the quick ride to her place she was full of nervous energy and, well, so was I. The pizza waited for us at the top of her stairs. I had to use both hands to pull the little suitcase behind me. 

Jess unlocked the door. "You eat your piece. I'll be first in the bathroom if you ever get that thing in here."

"Hey, I'm not as strong as I look." I was right behind her. 

She unzipped it and pulled what she needed out. "You've got other ... advantages."

The pizza was delicious, but she was right. There was no way I was eating more than one piece. 

Jess bustled out, stocking-clad and in a towel. She went to her room for the - my - red thing and stockings, then the suitcase for a bright red dress. "Find where you left the panties or you're going without. Technically they're supposed to go under the garters, but that makes using the restroom a bitch. Your choice." She gave me a little push at the shoulders to get me going.

I pulled my clothes off, used the bathroom, and brushed my teeth. The red thing was stretchy and gauzy and ... everything I thought it was. I stretched it around my back and, while my waist was tiny, I still had to suck in get the little fasteners in the front to clip. The highest was right at my sternum and the garment was arranged to leave a strip of exposed skin right down my front. What I thought had been just lace applique supplied subtle structure, squeezing my waist in and flaring over my hips. The little suspenders tickled my thighs and made me feel so very feminine.

I looked in the mirror. Something wasn't right. The cups were squashing me, like they weren't sitting. I lifted one breast out, then the other, and they settled ... on top? That can't be right. I turned for a profile. It had to be. The cups didn't cover. They just ... presented, thrust my ... ripe tits out. My nipples were hard. Slut!

Stockings. They were tan with a hint of pink and a laced edge on top. They looked like baby skin when I put them on and felt ... electric. I don't know how covering skin up could make it more sensitive, but there you go. The suspender clips in the front were easy, the ones in the back required some twisting. They ended up pushing my cheeks together to frame my tight ass. 

Panties. Were still on the floor where I left them this morning. I sniffed. They were ripe with the smell of ... juicy ... of my cunt. I could rinse them. There was so little to them they would only take two seconds to dry, but I had a naughty, slutty thought and slipped them on. 

I tugged them around a little, trying to find the best fit. They really were transparent and soaked through instantly. In addition they were way too small to cover everything. I turned around, stood on my toes, and looked back over my shoulder. If I bent over just a bit - there, glistening pink lips. I looked down. My nipples hung straight forward. I had to pinch each, just once, and shudder. I didn't have time for this. I actually didn't have time to be a slut. Jess was waiting for me.

The strapless red dress barely covered any more than the lingerie. The tight bottom went not quite half way down my thigh. One wrong move and I'd be showing ... everything. The top was tits bulging out. Hard as they still were, I could see no sign of my nipples. Thank goodness for small favors in public. I could only get the zipper half way up my back, but I was as done as I could get on my own. I opened the door.

"Good," Jess said. "I need help with my zipper." She had on a black dress almost exactly like mine, but with a little more flair to the skirt. She'd put a little makeup on and was only now finishing her pizza.

"Me too!" I turned so she could see and felt her fingertips trace up from my hips, then tug the zipper to the top. I felt like it was the last click of a lock closing. I felt free.

I turned around in her arms, looking up at her. She had a little bit of sauce on the corner of her mouth. I wanted to lick it off, but didn't know what she'd think, if that was too slutty. I wiped it gently with my thumb, brushing the corner of her lips.

"Harri," she whispered.

I licked the sauce off my thumb. "Jess, I still have to zip you." She turned around, blushing. "I like what you did with your makeup. Is it a little ... darker?"

"For nighttime. Let me do you."

Five minutes later I had the same effect. A little darker around the eyes, a little more ... sultry. 

She handed me a pair of low, black, wedge heels. "Easier to walk in," she said.

"What do I do about my ID and things? I never even thought about it before."

"Slip it down your cleavage. It won't go anywhere and, if you've got it, use it."

On the way down the stairs I was conscious of being careful, but I didn't have any problems. Jess brought the pizza. I reflected, as we walked hand in hand, that I thought heels were about calves and asses. Maybe they weren't high enough, but these were just like ... shoes. I was a little taller, but I wasn't unsteady.

Jess was right about the place. The band was tuning up, but it wasn't crowded. That didn't stop the guy at the door from staring at me, ogling when I fished my ID out from between my breasts.

"Sweaty," he said, "cause you're so hot." He didn't even bother glancing at it.

I felt sick to my stomach. 

Jess stepped between us. "Here's the deal. The rest of the pizza for no cover charge." She tugged me into the place. "Don't mind him," she hissed into my ear. "I've never seen him before."

We walked into the main room. I felt every pair of eyes on us. I was breathing hard and I wanted to shrink in on myself and disappear. Jess squeezed my hand.

The bartender looked up. "Hey, Jess, long time no - oh-ho, who's your little friend? Is she single?"

"Can it, Jeff." 

He shrugged. Objectively, I knew he was just your usual, affable bartender, but it was harder to see with my heart rate at 150.

"The usual?" 

"Make it two."

He disappeared through a door to the kitchen.

Jess slipped an arm around my waist. "Harri, what's wrong? Take a deep breath, honey, relax. Breathe for me."

I tried. "I don't know what's wrong. There are all these people here, staring at us. I can't think about men ... looking at me. There's just too many people, and if - if something -"

"Harri, the bar's almost empty. It's just a bar. It's just a band. This didn't happen with Matt yesterday."

"I -know- that, Jess. But I can't stop -"

She hugged me closer. "I don't think it's you. That's Harriet, the poor sick little girl who never left her house."

"H-Hariet?"

"No real friends except for me, no real leaving the house. Poor girl. No boys. She'd be as terrified as you are right now. But you aren't that Harriet, not if you don't want to be."

Knowing this made it easier. It wasn't my fear and I could ... let go of it. My shoulders relaxed, breathing slowed. Harriet was a poor girl, but she wasn't me.

She squeezed me again. "There you go, baby."

"Thanks, Jess."

The bartender came back with two glasses of white wine. "Tab?" he said.

I slid the ID out from between my breasts, to keep the tab open. He didn't look twice. I had enough cash in my stash to pay for drinks and I really wanted to treat Jess. I looked around the room again. This really was just a bar. This really was just a band. And we really were just two ... girls out on the town. 




Harri: Face the Slut Within Ch. 04



I felt a lot better. I took a sip from my glass. It was cold and refreshing. I took a gulp. "What took him so long for this?"

Jess laughed. "It's on the menu, technically, but I'm the only one who ever drinks it. They keep it and the glasses way back in the kitchen. More room for beer up here." She took a gulp of her own.

"You can't tell me this town is so small no one drinks wine at a bar." Gulp. "Are we drinking fast on purpose?" I giggled.

"Everybody drinks wine, just only at Vincent's." She gulped. "Bands about to start. And I want to get you on the dance floor."

I don't know how I felt about dancing, but my glass was already empty. "Vincent's? The Italian restaurant Aunt Cathy always used to take us to on Thursdays?"

The band struck up its first song with a kind of jazzy, twangy, honky-tonk sound. Jess took the empty glass from my hand and pulled me to the dance floor, her eyes alight. She shimmied, and she bounced, and she waved her arms above her head, and nobody looked twice. I just kind of ... stood there in front of her. I tried to twist or rock or something, but it was a whole different kind of movement.

"Come on!" she yelled above the music. "Get into it!"

She took my hands in hers and held them above my head, moving me like a puppet, rocked weight from side to side in time with her for the whole song. The band jumped right into the next one. She stepped closer to me and let me hands go. I left mine above my head. Jess slid hers down my sides to my hips and started rolling them for me. 

It was like she was teaching me to walk all over again. Something relaxed in me and I started moving fluidly, matching her motions. We were both sweating. Two more songs and she tugged me back over to the bar.

"I'm thirsty!" she yelled. She practically glowed.

It was more crowded now at the bar, but there was an empty stool at the end. Jeff had seen us coming and had glasses waiting. I perched on the stool and she shimmied in, standing, beside me.

She gulped wine. "You were really moving out there, putting on quite a show. That was awesome!"

Was it a show? "You're the real dancer."

She leaned closer. "Little tip, Harri? When you sit on a stool like that your dress rides up, so you might want to remember to keep your knees together." She slipped her hand between my thighs and caressed the skin right where the stockings ended. "Unless you want me to do that."

I snapped my knees together and squeezed. She still got her hand out.

She raised her fingertips to her nose. "Easy, tigress."

I gulped my wine, embarrassed, flushed. I didn't even know I was ... wet. She must think I was a slut to be so hot for her already. Maybe I was. Last night she did little more than ... watch, after all. I had no idea how far she wanted to go.

Back to the dance floor. We started out a couple of steps apart, but it wasn't long before she was tracing my curves. I still had my hands in the air, exhilarated. When she dropped down she'd run her hands under my skirt, pushing it up a little more each time. I stepped closer to her, so I could rest my hands on her hips. Her breasts tumbled like little kittens inside her dress.

The band slowed it down and we found ourselves with our arms around each other. She staggered her thighs with mine and I lay me head on her shoulder. It felt right, but it couldn't be construed as just naughty girls putting on a show.

Jess left her hand right at the line where the bustier stopped above my hips. Her thumb moved in a tiny circle.

"Mmmm," I breathed onto her neck. Did she shiver? I tried to rock my hips against hers, but she was almost frozen. I extended just the tip of my tongue and ... licked. That was definitely a shiver. I fancied I could feel her hard nipples against my breasts. 

"Oh, Harri." She slipped her hand a little lower on my ass.

"Yes, Jess?"

The band finished the song and closed its first set before I got an answer. The area around the bar was too packed for even hope of a stool. Jess left me against the wall to dive in for another round. She left me against the wall ... alone.

I leaned back, cocked one knee, tried to look casual. It's the kind of I'm-just-waiting pose I would've struck as a man. It's not what a woman should have done. Maybe there wasn't such a pose for a girl such as I.

Some skinny, shaggy kid, probably the same age as my ID said I was, struck up the same stance at my side. "Hey," he said. Original. 

My throat was tight. "Uh, hello?" I scanned the crowd for Jess with a nervous butterfly in my stomach.

"What's a beautiful girl like you doing here tonight?"

I didn't have an answer, not one that made sense. I shrugged even as I knew it made me more submissive.

"Are you here alone?"

Head shake. I felt so much sorrier for Jess, myself, anybody in these situations.

"So, what kind of guy leaves a girl like you here all alone?"

What kind of guy? I glanced him over - scruffy, skinny. He was just a kid. Tight jeans and ... a bulge. I cringed away.

He took that as an opportunity to lean closer. "It's just that my friends over there -" He pointed to a table of guys all flashing thumbs-up and blowing kisses. "My friends over there bet I couldn't come over and get a kiss from the hottest girl in the room."

He leaned closer. His little bulge was closer. At his table, the guys in the back were standing so as not to miss any of the action. If it wasn't this one kid it could be any of them. I glanced up at him and caught him staring right down my breasts.

Just like that my anxiety flipped to annoyance. He could be Jess's little brother Jimmy. He was a dumb kid and I had nothing to be afraid of.

"You don't want to let them down, do you?" he said. "How about a little peck. What do you think?"

Little peck? Little pecker was more like it. Jess emerged from the pack around the bar. I rolled my eyes at her. "I think I see my girlfriend."

That caught him completely by surprise. "What?"

"I said, I think I see my girlfriend! Thanks for keeping her spot warm, sport."

I twisted away from him and dropped my hands on Jess's hips. Thank you, I mouthed to her.

She ducked forward and pressed her lips to mine for just a moment. I heard cheers erupt from the guys' table and blushed. The one who'd, well, hit on me was dumbfounded. She handed me my wine and dropped her hand over my ass. Against the wall, the kid had the outline of an awkward erection fighting with his jeans. 

He went back to his table, only to be greeted by jeers. Ah, to be young and inappropriately aroused. Jess and I squeezed into his spot by the wall.

"Sorry," she said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I am." I still stood with my back to their table. "They're just kids."

"Horny kids!" She laughed. "They're here all the time and I've never seen one get lucky." She leaned closer and with her I welcomed it. "I kind of like letting them watch me dance. But I bet when they go home and jack off tonight, they'll be thinking about you." She watched my face for a response.

As long as it was a fantasy. As long as I didn't have to ... think about it, I was okay. Uneasy, confused, but maybe ... okay. I gulped my wine. "Any of them ever dance with you?"

She shook her head. "They get too close and I walk away. They're good kids, they're all good people, but there's no one for me in this town."

That made me a little sad. "You never even thought about it?"

"There's nothing wrong with any of them, but do any one thing, even dance with any one person, and everyone in town will know by tomorrow morning. That's not for me."

"You're dancing with one person tonight, aren't you."

"That's different. You're not -any- one person. I've got the hottest girl in town."

The band was taking the stage again and our glasses were empty. "What do you want to do? You want to stay for a little while longer?"

There was more than a twinge in my bladder. "I have to use the bathroom first."

She pointed across the dance floor. "The ladies room is over there."

The bar was packed now and I had to squeeze through the crowd. It was a different experience than the few times I'd done it before - all cancer galas. Instead of slipping through the spaces between people, my breasts dragged across every arm and back I edged around. 

In true dive fashion, the ladies room had two stalls but no doors. A mid-thirties woman was in the first one, skirt hiked up and panties around her knees.

"Oh!" she said as I walked by.

I hiked up my own dress and pulled down my little thong. It stuck to my ... crotch for a second. I could smell it, me from here. I was swollen and my little clitty peaked out from between my lips.

"You're the girl who's found our Jess," the woman said from the next stall. Thank goodness for distractions, but, our?

"You know her?" I even sounded like a nervous girl on a first date. I was.

"She's around. My husband and I keep an eye on her. It's nice to see her so happy."

I didn't know what to say to that. It was hard for me to pee because, with the stockings on, I still felt dressed.

"How'd you meet? If you don't mind me asking." I heard her tear a bit of toilet paper.

"I -uh- childhood friend. We used to spend our summers together. I'm helping out with some ... family problems of theirs." Not the most impressive delivery. There - I was peeing.

"You're helping up at Cathy's house?"

Ah, relief. I wracked my brain. Had I ever met this woman before? "You knew her?" She'd never recognize me, that was for sure. 

"Oh, everybody's heard about that. And such a shame. Could happen to any of us, really, a reminder to enjoy each day. We know Cathy did. And bless your heart for helping out."

A wave of melancholy passed over me, but didn't stay. That wasn't me today. It's definitely not what Aunt Cathy would've wanted.

"You take care now," she said before she left.

I wiped and wiped and wiped attempting to get a little dry. The thong was wet and freezing when it touched my skin again.

Outside, the band had started up again. I fought the crowd to reach Jess in the middle of the dance floor. She pulled me to her and we were off again. For the next song she spun her back and me sensuously ground against me. I dropped my hands to her hips. It was supremely slutty.

But I still didn't mind - there was something about it being Jess that defused my associations. And ... it was still pretty hot. But, while I could feel the smooth pressure of her ass against my pelvis, she wasn't really grinding on anything of mine. Instead, I reveled in wherever she touched me. She tossed her hair around like I was riding her. In frustration, I grabbed around her waist and pulled her tighter to me. I think she was yelling something at me, encouraging me.

She spun me around and we were in the reverse position. I decided to give her a taste of her own medicine. She had her hands on my hips so I bent and, like she'd done, ground my ass onto her waist. But, was that ... fuck. With my legs apart and my ass up ... fuck ... every hump had my thong rub across ... fuck ... my clit. I think she knew it. I think that's what she'd been doing.

She slipped one arm around my waist to support my balance. But where was the other ...? Smack! on my ass. A squeeze shot through my pussy. I jolted upright and found myself staring right into the table of boys from earlier. The one who hit on me was blushing and looking away. From my vantage I could see one on the other side of the table touch himself through his jeans.

But Jess didn't stop dancing. With me upright her hands were free to roam - and roam they did. From my hips up to the sides of my breasts to down the front of my stomach - I was all hers. Her breath was on the side of my neck, no, her tongue, no, she nibbled up from my collarbone to my earlobe, then licked back down the other side. 

I leaned my head back on her shoulder, then tasted her hot breath in my mouth. I thrust my tongue into hers. Fuck, the boys could see me kiss her. Fuck the boys. She pinched my nipples through my dress right in front of them. Hers dug into my back. The song ended and we parted, breathless. 

"I'm so hot!" I yelled over the crowd noise.

Her eyes flicked over my shoulder to the table of boys. Had she been putting on some kind of show ... for them? I felt a pang of ... was that jealousy?

The band couldn't match the energy of the last song, and fell into something slower.

"Do you want something else to drink!" she yelled.

"I want some water!"

She looked around. The crowd jostled us and an elbow pushed me into her. "Let's get out of her! I'm tired of yelling!"

I pointed for her to meet me outside, then fought my way to the bar where I signaled for the check.

Jeff simply handed me back my ID and waved away my cash. "On the house. I think word got out we were the hottest place in town tonight. You'll break some hearts when you walk out that door."

I blew him a kiss. He wasn't such a bad guy.

I took a deep breath before I stepped outside. I didn't really know what I wanted, now, nor what to expect. I knew what my slut body wanted. I caught Jess's eye across the street where she waited upwind of the smokers, so I know she was watching as I walked deliberately slow and sexy toward her. I think she was into it, too, at least until I stumbled on my damn heels. All that dancing without a problem, only to be foiled by crossing the street!

I pouted, she laughed, and the tension broke. We linked elbows and headed toward home.

The refreshing cool air put me in a reflective mood. First, I couldn't believe women wore dresses and skirts all the time. I was used to seeing them, I suppose, my whole life, but I couldn't reconcile that with how ... exposed and free I felt under one. Did women feel like that all the time? Not slutty?

Also, regardless of how I looked today, or any day in my whole, short life, that was my first date. With anyone. My first kiss. My first ... anything. Fuck, I wanted to put out, go all the way on a first date. I'd known Jess when we were little girls, loved her then, like a sister even. But now? I wondered what Aunt Cathy would think, if she'd approve.

Jess stopped me at the base of her stairs and took me by the hand. "Penny for your thoughts? If you're a little ... reluctant to go upstairs. I had a lot of fun tonight, a -lot- of fun, really, but I know this is still very weird for you. For me, too." She squeezed my hand. "And if you were a guy tonight, any guy, I-I wouldn't let you follow me upstairs on a ... a first date. I guess. I guess what I'm saying is, we don't have to do anything else. We'll go upstairs. We'll drink some water. I can sleep on the sofa."

"No!" Shit, I blurted out I wanted to sleep with her. I blushed. I was such a goddamned slut. "I mean, I-I had a lot of fun on our ... it was a date, right? It was my first date ... you know." I looked into her eyes, and she, searchingly, into mine. "I'm glad it was you, Jess." I was.

We stood there holding hands, watching each other. Was she waiting for me to kiss her? Was I waiting on her? How in the hell was this supposed to work? Why did I waste my youth on straight porn?

"Harri." She squirmed, then frowned. "I have to go to the bathroom or I'm going to burst."

I laughed and followed her up the stairs. "You should've gone at the bar!"

"I hate that bathroom. Women always want to talk to me in there." 

She unlocked the apartment at a run and didn't even close the door to the bathroom. I heard snaps followed by a ferocious hiss that faded to a tinkle. I filled two glasses of water in the kitchen, then waited for her on the sofa. 

The sofa was deep and had some sag to it. So many people lumped right in the middle that it drew you in regardless of where you tried to sit. It was deep enough the bottom of my skirt hiked up to just expose the tops of my pink stockings. I decided not to readjust. Sigh. Slut.

"Sorry about that," she said when she came out again. 

I patted the sofa beside me, and she obliged. We gulped our water in silence, hips touching in the middle of the sofa. We each sat our glasses on the coffee table. Click, click, the nervous tension was back.

"So, uh," I said. "You treat all the lucky girls like this on a first date?"

If possible, she looked even more nervous. "I've never, um, been on a first date. With a girl."

"Oh! I mean, not that I thought ... I mean, not that I thought anything."

She shrugged one shoulder and looked away. Back in my court.

"Not like I have, of course. Did I already say this was my first date? I guess it means that I wouldn't know if I did anything wrong. Or if you did anything wrong, for that matter."

She looked back at me. "A girl like you, Harri? A girl who looks like you? You don't look ... inexperienced."

"Well, appearances can be deceiving."

She nodded her head a fraction of an inch. "So what do you think you should do right about now? On a first date? You know, if there's something you wanted to ... run by me."

"Well, if we'd been dancing like ... we've been dancing, by this point I ... suppose I'd ... only have one thing on my mind." Because I'm a slut.

"What's that," she whispered.

"This." I lifted her chin with one finger and gently pressed my lips to hers. 

Her lips were soft, gentle, and sublime. One kiss turned into another. I slid one arm behind her back and the other hand on her hip, turning her toward me a little. I tilted my head the other way, brushing her nose with mine. She met me with open lips and the tip of her tongue. She caressed my cheek and ran her fingers through my fine, blond hair. 

"That's - that's about right." Jess kissed me again.

I feinted with my tongue, then drove it into her mouth. She moaned. She ran her hand all the way up my thigh to the bare hip beneath my dress. I tried to throw that leg over hers and one of my garter suspenders popped. 

I felt her smile against my teeth. "Stupid clothes," she said.

"Yeah, stupid clothes." I moved my face mere inches away. She was flushed, but, still smiling. "What?"

She giggled. "I'm sorry to spoil the moment, but I can't help think about all the boys at that table, all hard-up and horny jacking off alone tonight."

I felt a pang of annoyance. Again with the boys. "You'd rather be with a ... boy ... tonight, wouldn't you."

"Oh, no, baby." She clutched my ass with her hand and attacked my mouth for one savage kiss. She took a ragged breath. "What's hot is they're going to go home and ... touch their ... dicks ... and they'd give anything to be where I am right now." She wiggled on the sofa, squeezing her thighs together. "And they'd give almost that much just to watch me do it to you. And, and when they spray their cum all over they're going to, to wish ..." 

She reigned herself in. I was panting. Her hand returned to caressing my hip. This was going to happen.

"Harri, I - I've never done anything like this before."

I was too revved up to bother with her hesitation. "Fuck, I want you, Jess. So do it already."

She got a hungry look in her eye. She kicked off her shoes and knelt outside my knees. I didn't expect that. She ran her palms up the top of my thighs over stocking, lace, and finally skin. She was ... oh God ... it, she was going to ... do ... it already. 

She had to be able to smell me, horny, damp, musky. It wasn't supposed to go like this. I couldn't hide anything. She kissed the inside of my knee. My legs parted of their own volition as I pressed myself down into the sofa, moved closer to ... her.

She could -see-. "Oh my God, Harri, you're wearing them." Her thumbs caressed the inside of my thighs, almost ... there. "You're so soft." My thighs shivered further apart. "Oh my God I can see everything."

I squeezed my eyes shut in embarrassment. I squeezed the sofa cushions yet, inexorably, sunk closer to her.




Harri: Face the Slut Within Ch. 04



"Oh, Harri, you were so fucking hot ... last night ... when, when you ..."

"When what," I whispered hoarsely. 

Her fingers slipped further up my hips. "When you ... begged me."

Begged her? Why, why she - I snapped my knees shut and tried to back away, but she'd hooked the waistband of my thong and I succeeded only in helping her slide it over my hips.

"Yesss," I moaned. Yes? I meant No. Well, I didn't, but I ... I was lost.

I cracked my eyes open. My dress was up above my waist, now, up above the bottom of my bustier. She pulled off my shoes and twisted the thong over my feet.

"Oh my God I can't believe you wore this after last night." She pressed it to her cheek. "The way you smell -" I blushed "- so rich, so hot. She fucking hot." She stared between my legs.

Jess dropped the slimy thing, forgotten, grabbed me under my ass and pulled me to her.

"Yesss," I moaned again. I was flat on my back on the sofa, hips ... suspended in open air, legs flexed on tiptoe to keep me there.

Her hands spread, then held, my thighs wide open. I felt her panting. She kissed the inside of one thigh, then a tiny lick of the other, then back for a nibble on the first. I imagined grabbing her head and shoving her face into my - my - I - I couldn't do it. I squirmed, willing her closer. She was breathing ... right there. She was ... blowing on me.

I ... whined. I tried to grind up to ... I felt her back away.

"What's wrong, Harri?"

"I - I need -"

"What do you need, baby?" 

I heard that coy note in her voice. I can't believe she was going doing this to me again. "I - I need - oh, fuck, just fucking lick me."

The tip of her tongue darted out to touch my inner thigh. "Like that, Harri? Is that what you want?"

"Fuck you! Fuck me with your tongue! Suck me, lick my pussy Jess, I need you to lick my pussy. Fuck!" That's it. I was a slut. Begging for it, demanding.

Then it happened - I finally felt her tongue where I needed her soft, wet tongue. She pressed it flat across my whole slit. My hips jerked once and I was coming. I squeezed - inside - and felt a little dribble come out of my pussy. She lapped it up. She lapped as it dripped over my asshole. Oh my God it was so dirty to want her there.

Every nerve in my body was on fire and pulsed with the pressure of her tongue. I came again.

She didn't stop. My hands darted up and mauled my tits, twisting my nipples through the dress. She slobbered all over me with her tongue. She found my clit and sucked it between her lips while swirling around it with her tongue. I came again, with my fingers in my mouth.

Next thing I was aware of, she had her lips locked to my pussy, french kissing me, sawing her tongue in and out. It was so wet, so slick, so smooth, and yet ... My mind flitted back to my dream last night of a thick, juicy cock prying me open. I propped up on my elbows so I could see. Her face, covered in my juices, gleamed up at me.

"Oh my God, Jess. I've never felt anything like -"

She mumbled something into me. Her lips buzzed against my clit. My hips jerked.

"What, baby?"

Jess pulled away for an instant. "I love you." She dove back in.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God." I threw my legs around her head and fucked her face for dear life. I grabbed her head with both my hands and she didn't stop fucking me with her tongue. 

I came and I came and I came and, when I couldn't take any more, I shoved her away and rolled up, retreating, onto the sofa. I perched there taking one quick, shallow breath after another, ass thrust high in the air, cunt still twitching and squeezing around her phantom taste buds. She smacked me, hard, across the ass and I almost came again.

I rolled onto my side. "No more, no more, no more," I panted.

She had a giant, pussy-eating grin on her face. "Ask and ye shall receive, Harri."

"Oh my God I loved it." I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them again. "And I love you."

She leaned in and kissed me, her lips still wet. I could smell me, taste me, everything. Her hand found by breast, her thumb my nipple.

I shuddered and batted her away. "No more. Come to bed. It's your turn."

She hopped up and walked away, head over her shoulder, watching me. I followed on shaky legs. She stopped when I pulled my dress over my head. The sudden exposure left my nipples like bullets. She turned around and crushed me to her, her hands on my bare ass, trying to peel me apart. Our stocking'd thighs ran over each other like lightning. I used my arms to brace myself in the doorway. My left nipple disappeared into her mouth. I arched my back and ...

I pushed her away. "No! Not again!"

She had the temerity to pout at me. "Are you sure, Harri? I like it. A lot."

"Take off your dress," I barked.

"If you say so." She turned. "Help me."

I yanked the zipper down her back. Jess's dress fell away to reveal ...

Black satin, elegant and perfect, encased the bottom of her ribcage. It carved into her waist, then flared to stop above her hips except for the single black strap that disappeared down her ass and between her legs. I reached around her back and grabbed her breasts. Her puffy nipples grazed the palms of my hands. I licked the side of her neck right where it joined her shoulder.

"Yesss, Harri. Oh my God, yessss."

I reached down her front and worked that black strap in-between her lips while she moaned in my arms. Her legs almost collapsed. I spun her around and pushed her back onto the bed, where she fell, legs spread wide and pussy humping the air. This is what she'd done to me.

On the front of her corset was a line of white buttons where the hooks attached. Lower, right above where the strap almost disappeared between her lips, were two chrome snaps. I waited for her to watch me.

I started with my hands over my tits, nipples pinched between my fingers just like that first time I touched myself in the bathroom. I walked two fingers down the strip of bare skin left by the front of my bustier until they spread my pussy open. I slipped a finger in and groaned for her. I groaned for my Jess. I sucked that finger clean of the taste of my cunt while she stared into my eyes.

I turned around, thrust my hips back, and ran that hand down the crack of my ass. I meant to finger myself from behind, I really did, but I don't know what came over me. When I brushed my anus I shivered and pressed the wet tip of that digit in. My pussy spasmed and I felt a little gush trickle down my thigh.

"Oh my fucking God," Jess whispered hoarsely from behind me.

I spun around. I did every cheesy, awkward porn move I could think of. I put each leg up on the bed and undid the garter suspenders, never stopping my hips moving, then rolled down the stockings. Jess stared, mouth open, pressing her clit through the strap over her pussy. I unhooked the bottom fastener on my bustier.

"Oh, yes, oh yes take it off, Harri. I need to see you."

I had to hold it shut with one hand for the last few fasteners so I could throw it away behind me in one motion. My breasts bounced free.

"Oh yes, oh God you're so hot." She made a move to sit up.

"No!" I leapt onto the bed and straddled her, pinning her arms to her sides. The sensation of black satin between my thighs was sublime. She stared right at my pussy. "No," I said. I hunched over and kissed her, sucking each lip in turn.

I leaned a little further and dangled first one nipple, then the other, into her wet mouth. I selfishly took them back and teased myself in front of her. Now she was on fire and could only watch.

"Harrriiiii!" she wailed.

I slid a little further down, so her squirming hips were under me. She arched her back, pressing her breasts to mine. We were soft skin against soft skin. I knew what she needed. Starting at her collarbone I nibbled down to one breast, then licked roughly across it. 

"Oh, Harri," she moaned.

I kneaded her other nipple with my tongue while plucking the first between two fingers. I sucked her whole breast into my mouth, worshiped it. Her hands tried to escape from under my knees.

"No!" I said and pinned her wrists.

"Please -"

I slid further down - hips over her calves. Her stockings felt so good against me. Slowly, ever-so-slowly, I lowered my head until I bit the edge of the strap. I pulled until first one, then the other snap popped open.

"Oh fuck - I've never been this wet before."

I hovered over her, mouth open, tongue extended. If she wanted relief, she was going to have to work for it. Jess had dangling, wrinkled labia and the most beautiful little patch of hair above her pussy, mussed and oily from that strap all night. I can't believe I was going to do this. What was wrong with me? If she arched as high as she could, her clit would hit my tongue. And she did, over and over, straining to just get the tip of my tongue on her.

"It's not fair - it's not fair - please, Harri."

I relented. Her hands went straight to her breasts, nipple still wet from my mouth. Her thighs went wide and my tongue went deep into her pussy. Smell and taste were inseparable - she was sweet, watery, so different from me, yet ...

"More - please - more. I'm so close - "

I hadn't touched her clit yet, not really. I dropped two fingers in, palm up, curving up until I felt the rough, spongy tissue of her G-spot. Thank God for endless wasted days in hospital beds with an infinite variety of educational literature. I massaged it with a slow, steady rhythm, below what her hips demanded. I nibbled the inside of her thigh; she thrashed.

"Please - please more. It's not fair."

Fucking shit, if she was going to make me behave this way then I was going to punish her. I used just the tip of my tongue again to set up a counterpoint tapping on her firm nub. Her body began to tense and arch. I slowed.

"No - no-no - it's not fair. Harri - please - I'm so close."

I curled up right between her thighs, maintaining the slow G-spot massage. "I'm gonna make you come, Jess." I breathed the words over her slit. "I'm gonna make you scream."

"No - no - it's not fair."

I pressed my tongue against her clit as hard as I could then, just when she started to pull away, I sucked it into my mouth, gnawed her between my lips, and vibrated the fingers in her pussy as fast as I could. She managed to hold back until she stuffed a pillow over her face to stifle her screams. Every time she approached the quivering edge of overstimulation, I slowed until she started grinding her hips again. We did this over and over until finally she pushed me away with her feet.

She pulled the pillow away. "Not fair, not fair. I can't breath."

I straddled her again and gently unfastened the corset while she looked up at me. She gasped when at last I freed her. I slipped it from under her then slid the stockings from her feet. 

"I love you," she said. 

We kissed until our grinding hips brought us another orgasm. We fell asleep in each other's arms.



Harri: Face the Slut Within Ch. 05



Another morning caught me by surprise. We woke to the ringing phone, grinned at each other like sated lionesses, and slowly realized one of us would have to get up. 

Jess groaned. "I bet it's Matt."

I hid under a pillow from the sunlight. I felt ... done. And very sticky, everywhere. I bet the sheets were rank. I didn't care. I stretched beneath the covers. I thought about playing with myself, teasing her when she came back into the room, but I was a little sore.

Jess hopped on the bed, straddling me, pinning my arms to the side. Her head met mine under the pillow. 

"Feel familiar?" She licked my earlobe. "It's almost ten. Matt can't believe we haven't fed him yet."

"Can't we just ... stay? For a little while?"

"Nuh unh, Little Miss Worker Bee. You know how early those new boxes arrive. If you want to sleep tonight, we need to get started fast."

"So who wants to sleep tonight? If we shower together we could ... stay ... in bed for another ten minutes ..."

We gave it a good go, but were both still too sensitive and finally settled for gentle morning kissing. Showering with another woman was ... interesting. Every time we looked at each other, our breasts were rubbing. Every time we turned for something it was our asses. Every time we brushed against one another, we giggled.

With great relish, Jess unveiled my outfit for the day - a short, black pleated skirt, a bright yellow low-rise thong, matching yellow bra, and a white little polo-collared shirt. "If you had longer hair, I'd have you in pigtails," she told me.

We picked up breakfast to go from a coffee shop next to a pet store. All in all, we were at Aunt Cathy's in less than an hour from Matt's phone call. Jess and I couldn't take our eyes off each other the whole way.

"About time -- wow," he said when we hit the driveway. He was outside, moving the new set of empty boxes. "Did it cross your mind I might have been joking about celebrating last night?"

Jess tossed him a muffin. "Did it cross your mind that if you'd finished, you'd have celebrated too?"

"Children," I warned. They both had identical smirks. "Matt, you going to impress us today?"

"Impress you? I have been up all night. Not only did I finish sports equipment, but I dismantled all furniture and even-"

"Where'd you get the tools? I had them in the bin out here with a padlock."

"I used your combination, sis. Duh. Think about changing it sometime. I also got a call from your boss? I thought you were on vacation. He said to call back around noon."

Jess ran in to try calling them back.

"Wow, Matt," I said, meaning it. "I am flabbergasted."

"Then if anybody needs me, I'll be downstairs on the crappy futon. Fast asleep. Adios."

I waded past stacks of disassembled furniture and found Jess hunched over Matt's computer, checking her email. I rubbed her shoulders. "He really did it."

"Pff. He takes credit. It was like legos. Hours and hours of legos, I'll give him that, but he's going to have to work harder than that to get my praise. And I can't get ahold of anyone at work."

"Puts us ... a day ahead?"

"It'll come down to her clothes, bedroom, and the kitchen." She gave me a peck on the lips. "Get to work, honey."

Noon rolled around and passed without Jess getting ahold of anyone. I disappeared into work for a couple of hours, digging through dusty drawers. Every time I finished one I swore to myself I'd do a better job on the next box, not make it so heavy for myself, not simply dump the contents into a fresh one. I always succumbed. Unbelievable. And to think I thought of myself as an ascetic.

"Harri?" Jess said some time later. She'd sounded ... nervous. Then she giggled.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Well, you might want to watch that skirt when you're on your knees, is all."

"Apparently -you- might want to watch this skirt." I snorted. "What's really wrong."

"N-nothing - well, I got through work. They know I'm on vacation this week, know it's super important, but they're in a huge whirlwind and promised to pay me overtime if I can run pick up a courier delivery from Seattle. The agents will only hold it for twenty-four hours unless a licensed company representative appears to sign for it. I-I'd have to leave for Seattle before this evening. And we're a tiny bit ahead here, and everyone else is much further away than I am. It's really the only chance we have to get the paperwork before it RTS's to China."

I put my arms around her waist. "I'll go with you."

She shook her head. "We aren't that far ahead."

"So send Matt."

"Licensed reps only, Harri. His machines can't fake that. Rules Jimmy out, too, even if he could get off work."

"It's only one night. We'll have plenty more, any way I can get them."

She smiled. "I know that."

"So what's with the nervous butterflies?"

She tugged me to two dining room chairs, where we sat. "You know I've been ... pushing you a little this week? I think it's - it's good for you, Harri. Don't you?"

I had to admit she was right. I had to admit I loved every second of last night.

"And I have one more thing, and it's big and, and I'm not going to be here. I'd hoped it would evolve ... naturally, when the opportunity ... presented itself."

"What is it, exactly?" I asked, a bit wary. Nightmare scenarios of whips and chains ran through my head.

"Well, you know how Matt and I grew up ... sharing everything? Even more than between Jimmy and him?"

I nodded, my stomach sinking. 

"I know what we have is special, but I also know it's important for you, for the future of you, to make the most of this ... whatever this is. This time where you get to decide and discover. And if you wanted to try things, you know, with a ... guy, well, I'd be happy. And I'd be happy if it was ... Matt."

I felt a sick twist of revulsion and ... something else in the pit of my stomach. What did she want me to be? "You really want me to ... try?"

She put a reassuring hand on my knee. "Only if you want to. Only if you think it was right. I think it's a big question to be answered - what your identity means. If - if you didn't, well, that's an answer too, isn't it?"

"What have you told him? About this, about us?"

"Privileged sibling information." She smiled. "I may have rubbed it in his face a little that I got you. I also told him you weren't remotely interested by guys, that it made you really nervous, but that if you wanted to ... try something ... that I'd appreciate it if he was open-minded and helped you."

"Him? If -he- was opened-minded?"

"Harri, in a very real way, it's harder for us to forget who you were, what you went through, than it is for you."

That gave me a lot to think about.

She kissed me goodbye. "I'll make sure he's still moving."

I finished up the last couple of drawers in the kitchen. We really were going to finish this whole house in time. I found Matt taping boxes in the basement. His hair was still wet from a shower and a shave after his nap. 

"Ready to start moving these to the garage?"

He jumped. "You startled m- uh, yeah. I mean, sure. Just about."

I watched him while he finished taping, watched his muscles slide under his beautiful tattoo. Then, one by one, and occasionally two and three in Matt's case, we shifted the boxes up to the garage. We finished as the sun started going down over the mountain.

I sighed at the view. "I think we're done. You ready to head out for the day?"

"Uh - you know Jess made me promise to look after you tonight."

I shut my eyes. "She told me a little something of her plans, yes."

"She left me an ... overnight bag for you? I just gotta say, I don't know if I can ... go through with it."

"You can't!" I'm turning into a slut and you don't want a piece? "I-I- you know what? I'll drink to that."

He laughed. "You got a place in mind?"

"Better."

I made him bring me to the best liquor store in town, where I picked up a bottle of my celebration scotch with all the cash I didn't spend last night. Matt never had more than his white undershirt on, so I had to leave him in the car. I flashed my ID and pretended it was for my dad. The owner was patronizing and bought the whole act.

An hour and a half later, Matt and I, chinese delivery consumed and at least two sheets to the wind, sat companionably in his loft. It was another of those giant old sofas, just like Jess's, but in beat-up leather. He had it smack in the middle of one of his partitions on a giant white, faux fur rug. Like Jess's, the sag in the middle forced us shoulder-to-shoulder, hip-to-hip, but with purpose. Heads back on the slumping cushions was the perfect angle for the projection overhead, a time lapse series of Matt putting together his masterpieces.

It was a series of progressions that started with a single empty frame and stepped through the subtle degrees of layer after layer of laminate transparency. Matt himself appeared in fits and jerks through the whole thing, usually a blur. It looked like he showed up, day or night, every couple of hours, in all manner of dress, to transfer blocks from the automated machine onto the frame. There was one where he was just in a towel, and another at the end where he didn't even bother with that. Yes, for a second I was looking at a life-sized image of a naked Matt hovering overhead. I blinked. Then it was finished, an ran even more quickly in reverse. When eventually the presentation ticked to a end, we didn't move.

"This is good stuff," he said about the scotch, ending another round of silent contemplation.

Given the disparity between our weights, he'd been hitting it a little harder than I had, especially the last few rounds. And he'd only slept three or four hours today. I think we'd still arrived at the same place.

"I find it isn't always easy to tell the good days from the regular days. It helps to have a little something extra."

"Something extra," he mumbled. "You know? I really admire you."

"Me? What brought that on?" 

"It's just ... your whole life. There's all that, back in the past. Not so back in the past, and now you're reinventing yourself without losing yourself. Peripateo. Ascending to something ... it's just really something I admire."

I laughed with a bit of a bitter twinge. "I didn't exactly walk through the fire on purpose."

"No, but once it happened, you did it with gusto."

Gusto. "I like that." I thought about the last week, about how things had been getting easier for me, easier to accept who I was. "It's all Jess. She's ... amazing too. You ... know about that, right?"

"Uh, she, uh, admitted she succumbed to your ... feminine wiles. That you're adjusting to who you are now. Growing up."

I groaned for comedic effect, but flushed for real. I could talk about being a slut and it was just ... growing up. Adjusting to who I was.

"No, I mean. I don't think I could've done that, even."

"Matt, she's your sister. I don't think anyone would've blamed you."

He slapped me on the bare leg. "You're disgusting. I didn't mean that ... I can't even talk about this. I don't know how you do it."

"I think you're making it too complicated. You wake up one day and your entire life has changed. It may not look like it, but I've been wallowing for almost a year." Fighting being a slut. Was I still fighting? "You don't think you'd do any better? You don't think you could ever, ever take a step forward?"

"Harri! You're talking about my sister!"

I poked him on the leg. "Move on from that. It's you. It's, I don't know, a year from now. Everybody you know died in some tragic accident. You couldn't go to a bar with someone?"

"I'm still me, right? I don't have to change my whole appearance like, like you ..."

"Well that's the trick. It doesn't matter what happens to you - whatever arrives on the other side, that's what's really you."

He thought about this for a bit, leaving me with my recollections. I had a flashback to Jess's face between my legs. My nipples tightened. I missed her.

"Yeah. I think I see what you're saying. But it's still me, looking like me in my head, regardless of what I look like on the outside. Is it like that with you? Do you still think of yourself like you ... used to be?"

"That's Jess's theory, by the way, what she's pushing me to figure out. She thinks bodies are deep ... roles, for lack of a better word. They aren't ... who you are, and all things within normal human behavior - fears, desires, hopes - those don't define the essential 'you'. 'You' are what's outside of all that. So when I'm here, now, it's a little easier to put aside the ... baggage of real me."

"Just like that? It's really ... openminded."

Now it was my turn to ponder. "Sometimes - I mean, I know it's easier to go the way I did, turn from a troll into a princess, as it were. Going the other way I think you'd absolutely cling to every shred of princess, keep this image of yourself. And ... I think I do the same thing. I look at myself ... and it's still wrong, not me. It's been coming on a year and ..." Yet, after everything I'd done the last two days, was that still true? "Still, there are things about the new me I can't deny." Like being a slut, like having breasts.

"So many things - I mean, a lot of obvious things to anyone who knew you before, but more than that. A whole life full of new things. I can't imagine looking down my life and never having thought about having kids before. Can you imagine you - pregnant? I mean, and that's just a tiny example. We used to feel so sorry for you - well, not just used to."

Pregnant! Shit! "Fortunately, fortunately I don't have to worry about the kids part. Not for years and years, not until maybe they believe I'm really going to stick healthy." Thank God. "But I get what you're saying, and impossible things have happened to me. If you'd asked me a year ago, I'd've said me having breasts was as likely as you." I giggled, drunk slut. "And then it's the way people treat me, and maybe when I'm getting used to that, Jess dresses me like this." I sighed, looking down at myself. "The clothes do help me separate now from then. I do have to admit that." The clothes made it easy to love the way she looked at me.

He glanced down. "That shirt? That skirt? She's got a bit of a naughty streak, my sister."

I was conscious of the hem of the skirt on my thigh. I'd been keeping it tugged down all night, but it was still shorter than my dress from the night before. "She threatened me with pigtails if my hair was any longer, and you should see what she picks for ... nevermind." I fought the rising blush. "That twin thing you and Jess have." I looked closer at his face. "You two really are a lot alike. What was it like, growing up? I'm kind of one person who looks like two - kind of exactly the opposite. She said you were nearly identical."

"Nearly - we were identical up until about age twelve, except for one obvious difference. And, when she started ... developing, people would pull me aside and reassure me that girls developed at different times. That takes a bit for a guy to get over. Setting us apart was half the reason for the tattoo. I think that's why Dad never said anything about it."

I thought about that. "Maybe you do have a bit of an idea what it's like to be me right now."

"Still, Harriet, all that talk of acclimation and roles and jumping my sister last night and ... still no guys? That's the line?"

"Matt, call me Ha-" and there it was, the line of me. Who was I tonight? What did I want? "Harri." It just came out that way. Just a name. "I'm not saying no ever no guys. Maybe. A sliver of a possibility. But right now, going out in public feels like walking down a catwalk and every guy's got a stuffy, eying me for the best hole. I'll admit - it's a hangup. With Jess it's different." I didn't even want to broach the topic of my feelings on sluts and men - I'd be forced to reconcile what I did last night with who I was.

"Really? You don't seem that nervous to me. I'm one of these 'shady guys' just out for your body."

"No you aren't. Well, you're no shadier than 99% of everyone out there, it's just you're ... more familiar? And, I mean this complimentarily, and I know you're a man, but you're so much like Jess that ... well, it's safe. She's right, I think. If it was going to be anyone, it'd be you."

"Or not me. It just seems like not that big a step. I mean, if you took everything else in leaps and bounds, it seems like, if you're in the ... throes of passion, it's just ... a little something extra."

"You asked for this, Matt." I poked him hard in the leg. "I will admit, provisionally, that when -your sister- rocked my world to high heaven there were moments when I might, might I say, have ... welcomed a little ... something extra. But that is an entirely different continent than starting out with a man. That's a whole different ... construct, a different paradigm of activity."

He was blushing. Just like Jess. "It just doesn't seem like that big a deal. I mean, yes, alone, rrraaah, but along with everything else?"

"Not that big a deal. This from the guy who, I might add that Jess told me, simultaneously couldn't stomach the thought of doing anything with me."

"That's completely different! Do you know what it's like? Looking at your from the outside, still seeing that poor, sad little girl. And you weren't ever as ugly as you thought you were, but you certainly wouldn't listen to us about that. You were just so ... frail. So ..."

"You're looking for pity from the wrong place, pal. It's supposed to be so easy for me to just slip into another role, leave the past behind, and you get to haul mine around with you?"

"It's easier for you! You're on the inside. You even said the clothes help."

He was blushing bright red. He glanced down at my chest. I knew my nipples were hard - I could feel them strain against my bra with every breath. Slut.

"The clothes don't help you?"

"I - I -" he stammered, then looked away. "Fine. You pushed me to it. And it's just because I'm a little drunk that I'm telling you this. You're hot. You always had this ... intensity about you. It's who -you- are. And sometimes tonight I look over at you and - and think -" He looked back at me. "Jess is really lucky."

I lowered my eyes.

"But you don't have to worry about me!" He said. "I mean, this is far from the most masculine thing I've ever done, but, I - I think I've had too much to drink. Definitely not enough sleep. It's fantastic, and I'm totally lucid, almost floating - maybe that's why it's so easy to say this - but I can't - couldn't - get it up right now to save my life. I - I'd like to, I could still do stuff, but -" he shrugged.

I threw my arm around his shoulders. "Thanks, Matt. That is absolutely the most reassuring thing you could possibly tell me. But the answer is no."

"No I - I wasn't -"

"Yes you were. And let me be blunt. I don't mind. I'm flattered. But if your sister were here I'd have kicked you out a long time ago." Because I wanted her between my legs. Desperately.

He was silent for a time, coming to terms with himself. I let him. If he left right now I'd jam my fingers into my pussy until I squealed.

"She isn't here, but you could ... pretend, if you wanted to. Pretend I was her - you said it yourself, I remind you of -"

He was right. And it was true I didn't mind. And was it that different? From Jess? I could see the whole thing laid out before me. I squeezed my thighs together. "Okay," I said in my little voice. "You're right. It's a fair little step. I'm okay with that."

"You are?"

"Don't talk. You're Jess. Just - just let me."

I climbed up and sat on his lap with my arms around his neck. He had one arm behind my back and his other hand on my bare thigh. My skirt flared out so, while he couldn't see anything, it was my bare ass on his lap. I readjusted, gingerly. He was right, no sense of life no ... firmament. Just his idiotic belt buckle digging into my skin. His face was so close to hers. I closed my eyes, leaned up, pressed in and ...




Harri: Face the Slut Within Ch. 05



He was stiff, his whole body stiff, his lips unyielding. 

"I - I can't," he muttered. "I'm sorry."

"No wait, you're right. It has to be you." I whispered, "Let me try something. Stroke my back."

He did, lightly, his fingers running over the bump of my bra strap. I resettled into his lap. Damn that belt buckle was going to hurt. I can't believe I was going to do this.

"Matt? Do you know how old I am in here?" I pitched my voice up. I cooed into his ear. "I'm an eighteen year old girl, Matt. I'm a eighteen year old schoolgirl, Matt, and I need someone, I need you to teach me ... how to be a woman."

It was working. His hand clutched my thigh, then slid up a little to the edge of my skirt. He kissed down the side of my cheek, tasted my neck.

"My little pu- I-I get so ... wet sometimes and I can think about is - is your ... co-" I choked on the word.

The mood broke. He dropped his hands to the cushions. I didn't want to stop.

"That was almost it," I said. "I - I have to go to the bathroom. One more try, okay?" Please?

"Yeah, me too. Bathroom, I mean." He sounded resigned.

I winced as I climbed off his lap.

"You okay?"

"It's just your damn belt buckle. Look at this." 

I flipped up the back of my skirt to show him the red indentation on my thigh. His jaw dropped. It might have been a little unfair of me. "Be right back."

In the bathroom I took stock. I was a little flushed, a little, but certainly not wanton. I wasn't nervous or particularly excited ... I was, okay I was a little drunk. The crotch of my panties was soaked, but that didn't mean anything. I wasn't out of control. The yellow lacy thing was certainly girly, sluttier than I should be able handle. Back on the sofa, Matt fidgeted. 

"Relax," I said. "Go do what you've got to do. One more try, five minutes and ... if we can't and there's no sparks, it's right off to bed." Where I'll masturbate myself to sleep.

He seemed to accept that and got up. I kicked off my shoes. The fake fur was silky between my toes.

I leaned against the edge of the sofa and thought about drinking a little more scotch. Did I really want - what did I want? Making out with a guy ... just to show Jess or even myself I could seemed like a pointless exercise. I think what I wanted was to feel safely attractive to, and safely attracted by, a guy. But how?

We could fall asleep beside each other and hope I woke in the middle of the night - but that was asking to lose control. The most in control I'd been the whole week was when I - yeah, that might work.

I undid my bra beneath my shirt and slid it out the arm hole. The fabric of the little polo was harsh across my nipples, engorging them further. Matt noticed as soon as he came back. I think it was getting easier for him to forget.

"I -"

"Here's what we're going to do." I picked up one of the little sofa pillows and tossed it on the rug. "You are going to lie down on your back. Now git."

"What is this, exactly."

"One more try, five minutes, lie down. On your back."

Matt obliged.

"Hands by your sides."

I looked at him, pondering the best way to do this. Light caught chrome at his waist. I shook my head.

"Pants off, shirt off."

"Now wait just a second."

"Hey! I want this, need this to be you. A man. I want some tactile sense here, some skin. The pants are just because of that damned buckle."

"Yeah? What do I get?"

I shook my tits at him. He couldn't look away. Shirt, pants, off in a flash and tossed against the wall. He had orange boxer-briefs on, and his flaccid cock and balls jiggled when he landed on his back, arms stiff at his sides. Don't think about it.

"Relax," I said. I sashayed up to him, then dropped to my knees.

"How is this -"

"Shhh." I swung one thigh over him - he couldn't see anything on account of the skirt - to pin his arms to his sides. For a minute I looked down at him, proud nipples on full display.

He just watched me. He had these perfect washboard abs that I, even at 85 pounds and zero body fat could never imagine. His intricate tattoo - I traced it with my fingertip - went up his arm and spread across his shoulder like a flame. I played around with placing my hands on his hard chest, cupping his pecs first one way, then another. I shimmied a little, settling myself flush against his lower abdomen. His skin was hot. He closed his eyes.

Comfortable now, maybe even acclimated, I supported myself with my elbows on his shoulders and leaned down for a kiss. This time he responded.

Gently I touched the inside of his lip with the tip of my tongue. I had my hands petting the sides of his head. I probed again and this time his lips parted. I moaned - just a little - when my tongue found his.

He was breathing faster through his nose. I was, too. My hips rocked, almost on their own, reaching for, grinding for ... what? I was horny. The white fur around him was so soft, so beautiful. His tongue shot into my mouth. I moaned around it. I lamented I wasn't in the tighter panties from yesterday so I could ... get a little relief. I could just let him ... touch ... no. I squeezed his arms against his sides and ground myself into him.

He fought me for that. I leaned back upright. "No!" I tried to grab his wrists with my hands, pin him like I had Jess the night before. 

He slid them out from under my legs. I fought him with all my strength - with all of my weight - but I was nothing against him. He gently enclosed his hands around my waist and pulled me down, ground my panty-clad pussy against his abdomen.

I leaned back further. "What are you -"

"Let go of my wrists," he simply said.

My arms fell to my sides. It was useless. I was on top, but he was in control. His hands slid up, under my shirt, and stopped, outlining the bottom edge of my breasts. He looked up at me, my chest heaving, nipples straining. 

"Should I?" he said.

I nodded a tiny, tiny little nod. His hands closed over my breasts, his fingers found my nipples. I threw my head back and gasped. His fingers were rougher - he was rougher - than Jess had been, but he felt so good.

"You think I haven't noticed these?" he growled. "It's all I could think about last night when you ... when you were with ... my sister. Admit it, you've been flaunting these."

He was right. It was bad of me. Him, Jess, I almost didn't care who stared, as long as they noticed. I nodded again, but it wasn't enough for him. 

He pinched both my nipples, hard. "Say it."

"Unh! I like it -unh-" he pinched again, "when you stare."

"Yeah you do, Harri."

"Yeah I do," I crooned. For an instant I wished he could -

His hands dropped back to my waist. We grinned at each other in a moment of acknowledged awkwardness.

"This is ... okay, isn't it." he said. Maybe not even a question.

I pulled my shirt over my head, breasts spilling free. "You tell me." I giggled. Like a schoolgirl.

"They're - they're perfect. Wow, you're -"

I didn't let him finish. I collapsed on his chest and we were kissing. He was hungry in my mouth. His hands roamed across my back, hugging me to him. Our tongues slid over each other. I clutched his biceps, then ran my fingers through his hair. He dropped his hands to my hunched thighs and ran them up under my skirt. He clutched my ass - I gasped and rolled it back into his hands, buried my face into his neck.

"Oh, fuck, Harri. Your have the perfect ass, too." His big, strong, man's hands kneaded my flesh. With each squeeze on my bare cheeks, he spread me a little further, got closer to -

I shuddered. "I can't believe you're doing this to me."

He gripped me around my waist with one arm, immobilized me against his abdomen, thighs spread wide, ass jutting high in the air. My skirt flipped down my back and I knew he could see me and that stupid bright yellow thong. His other hand still wrapped around ... back there, clutching me, and then -

"Ffffuuck," I groaned into his neck. A single finger lightly stroked down the center of my pantied slit. "Mmmaaaatt," I whined.

"You're so wet, Harri. Christ, you're soaked. Why didn't you say something? You don't want me ... touching?" He stroked down my slit again, pressing harder, fingertip submerging just a little. He hunched and reached further down, adjusting something - his underwear? - before his finger returned to where I needed it.

"Yessss, yessss. Pleeease."

His moved his finger an inch lower and began thrumming past my clit, barely making contact. I tried to move my hips, tried to add a little more pressure, but he had me pinned. Every one of my panting exhales turned into a whimper.

"What's the matter, Harri, you need more? You just have to say so."

The quick touches were maddening, infuriating. I wanted to plead, I wanted to scream at him. I dug my fingernails into his shoulders, but he wouldn't stop, wouldn't speed up, wouldn't press any goddamn harder. I arched myself up as far as I could go. He curled and latched onto my nipple, sucking it into his wet mouth. 

"Yes, yes, yes-yes-yes!" The change gave me the exact fraction of an inch I needed slide against his fucking fingers. Fuck, his tongue on my nipple felt so good.

He ripped my panties away, and I mean ripped. He grabbed at the back of the waistband and, thwop, something sprang apart. He yanked them out from between us and, in a flash, the fat fingers of both hands pawed at my cunt. He spread my wetness everywhere - cheeks, asshole, fuck I was so wet, but he couldn't go deep. I was too far down, basically sitting on his hands.

"I just - I just - I just need a - a little more," I managed to stammer out between breaths.

I pushed him back flat and jerked a little further up his body and - fuck - that was it, two fingers in my pussy and his pinky mashed against my clit. I still had my breasts rubbing all over his face and - God - 

I was so fucking close. "Yes, yes, yes, yes." 

I bucked back against his hand. I wanted him to drill me with those fingers, bang me like it was a ... a ... but he wouldn't move them, left them buried for my pussy to squeeze and that one finger on my clit. Fuck, I was so close. Then his other hand was at my face, his fingers in my mouth. I was sucking them, panting around them, and that, that, fuck -

"You know what that taste is, Harri? That's your pussy. A man made you that wet, Harri. A man is going to make you come." He began moving his hand in out and, finally, started finger-fucking my pussy, finger-fucking my mouth.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!" 

I squeezed on his fingers, I licked on his fingers, I existed on his fingers, and I ... I came on his fingers. But he stopped too soon, pulled them out of me and left me shaking on all fours, hovering over his body. I'd had an orgasm, maybe, but it was merely ... an echo of what I'd been building toward. He nervously patted my skirt back into place while I caught my breath. Did he think he was done, did he think I didn't ... want any more?

I lowered myself back to his skin and ground the messy slit between my legs against his belly in a gentle circle. "I'm still wet for you, Matt. I still ... want you. What do you want to do to me? Do you want to feel me on your fingers again?" I was egging him on. "Do you want to ... eat me?"

His head was still buried between my breasts. Was - was he hiding from me? I slid down his body so I could tease his ear with my tongue. A little wet lump pressed off center high on the back of my thigh. He gasped. I unconsciously realigned my hips and there was a spongy wet lump slipping past my little clitty followed by hard ... I froze. Well, I wanted to freeze, but couldn't help rocking back and forth just a tiny bit. A tiny bit. Me and tiny bits. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"What the - what the fuck is that?" I knew exactly what it was. I simply couldn't believe it.

"I - I'm sorry. You're so goddamn hot and you were riding me and sucking my fingers and I was ... sucking your tits and - I was sure it couldn't happen."

I had to see. I looked down the space between our bodies, my nipples still brushing against his broad chest and - the fucking skirt was in the way. He hadn't seen me - he'd never seen me ... down there. I sat back on him, his hands, still, on my thighs, and reached behind me to unzip my pleated skirt. He still had his boxer briefs on - what I felt was what he'd let poke above the waistband. His eyes widened when he realized what I was about to do. I ... unveiled myself for him, to him, and there, nestled between the folds of my perfect teen slut pussy was the angry plum purple head of an engorged cock. His cock. A tiny spasm raced through my insides. He bucked his hips just a little and I swear I felt it ... throb against my clit. I swear I felt myself leak over him.

"I - I - I never thought this could happen," he said. "I - I was sure. I never would've - we - we can stop right now. Do you want to stop, Harri?"

I knew what answer my voice would give, knew what answer it had to give. What was I, some kind of slut? Throw a cock at me and I was gagging for it? My body wanted something else. It wanted me to grab my tits and tug my nipples. I rolled back my hips, wetly smearing myself over his cock until the elastic of his underwear grazed my lips.

"Wait - wait-wait. Oh, God, Harri. Hold on for just a goddamn second."

I was - I was giving myself to him - was I giving myself to him? - and he wanted me to -wait-? He pulled me back up on all fours by my ass. He was fidgeting again down there, I heard his legs rustling in the rug. I was grinding empty air in a daze when he latched onto my breasts and, with pinches and tugs on my nipples, guided me back onto his lap.

"Oh, fuuuck," I groaned. He'd taken his goddamn underwear off. "Fuuck."

He fondled my tits as, my hands on his hard chest, I eased my gash up and down long rod. On one end it was my clit wedged against the base of his shaft, the head lifting off his skin while I soaked his balls. On the other it was my bare pussy on display for him in the front, with the head of his cock buried in buried in, about to emerge into ... In-in between, when I looked down, it was his rigid shaft splitting my furrow. He was mesmerized by the sight. I was - 

I could almost imagine I was watching one of those old pornos, waiting to feel something. Waiting and failing. This wasn't me. It couldn't be. But the view was wrong - something I never saw on a screen. I was staring, fascinated, at the -underside- of a thick hunk of - and a vein they never would've allowed on camera. And I had swaying tits in the way, tits with a man's hands fondling them, pinching their engorged nipples. And it didn't feel like I was anesthetized against lust, like a chaste, cloistered troll. It felt like anywhere Matt wanted to touch me - and I'd let him touch me anywhere - would leave me whimpering for more. And when I whimpered it was with a vulnerable, feminine, little girl's voice. I'd lost my carefully cultivated distance. Here, now, I -was- nothing but a vulnerable, feminine, little girl. And I was getting close to coming again.

I slid faster, harder. "Oh, Matt, oh Matt. Oh, Matt!" I pressed -through- his cock, trying to connect to - "Oh Matt! Oh Matt!" Fuck, I was so close again - this was going to be the big one, in a second I'd be able to forget about what a cock was doing to me - in a second I was going to -

"Harri - Harri -" He was yelling, trying to get my attention. "Christ, Harri, you're hurting -" He grabbed me by the hips and forced my down into his lap, off his cock. "I can't take anymore."

I'd been robbed again. Fuck, I was so close. I was right there with my clit at the base of his cock, my weight down off his hips. I grabbed his cock - fuck, it was huge in my tiny hands. I could barely fit my fingers around it. I ran one hand up and down the top, jacking him, basically, while the other pressed the rest into my swollen teen clitty. "What's the matter, Matt, you can't handle it? You can't handle what this cunt is doing to you?"

"Oh, fuck." He couldn't look at me. "Fuck, Harri, fuck you're hot. You're a fucking ... hot ... sexy little ... bitch, but I, I - it was too hard. It was too much, it was hurting -"

"Ah, poor little Matt, his little ...-" I whimpered "- cocktoy plays too rough." 

I caressed the top of his dick and milked out a fat drop of pre-cum, which I collected on my finger. My second almost-orgasm receded and the gravity of what I was doing sank in. The imaginary line between me and the thing I hated most was dangerously transparent. I was jacking, slick with my own juices, a man's fat cock, licking my lips at the thought of sucking his pre-cum off my finger. I wiped it around my nipple instead. Let him suck it off if he wanted to. Matt was hard and - and smooth and shaved all the way to the base. I didn't even know guys could do that. He throbbed in my hands and my pussy throbbed against him.

"What do you want, Matt," I whispered.

"Fuck, Harri, I don't - I don't -"

"I know what you want." I wanted it too. Slut.

I raised myself up on my knees, leaned over with one hand on his chest so he could see ... everything, then reached around my back and cupped his balls in my palm. He shaved those, too. I shivered. I grasped him around the base of his hot meat so he pointed right up at my wet ... hole. I lowered myself -just enough- so his tip pressed against my clit.

"You think I'm going to let you in here, don't you," I whispered hoarsely. By sliding my hand up and down his slick shaft I could maneuver the tip around my wet mess. I had no idea what I was doing. I was out of control. "You probably think I want it." I could feel the spongy head deform as I forced it across my ridges and folds. I shuddered. "You probably think that just because my pussy is dripping down your cock that I'm a - a slut who - who can only think about ... your big dick ... inside her." I shifted my hips just a little, changed the angle, and the head of his cock settled into a pit, started to slip into ... I forced it out again and up around my clit, but drove it back there in an instant.

Matt grabbed my wrists, both of them, leaving me balanced on my knees with his cock poised, pressing ... "We both know I'm going to do this, Harri."

I looked him right in the eye. He was flushed, breathing just as fast as I was. My tits swayed, nipples aching. "Go on, I dare you."

He shook his head. "Beg me." 

"What! Fuck you!"

He started pulling me down gently by the wrists. I pushed back with my thighs.

"Beg me. If you're such a little slut, such a sexy bitch, that you want a cock, my cock inside you, then you'll have to beg me."

I shivered. I felt that spasm run through me again. "And I'll say it again, Matt. If you want this, you're going to have to take it."

He bucked his hips hips just a little, reflexively. Not enough to push him anywhere, just enough to increase the pressure, to ... threaten. He pulled harder on my wrists. "Beg me, Harri! Now!"

The dam burst inside me. "Fuck! Fuck me, Matt!" I demanded. I could hold out for an extra instant.

"Beg me."

I couldn't resist. I was crying in my little girl's voice. "Please, Matt, please. I'm such a little slut and ... and -oh fuck- please just fuck me. Stick your fucking cock in my pussy, Matt, please I'm - I'm begging you."

He grabbed me by the hips and relentlessly pushed down. My hands shot to my nipples, twisting, pulling. At first the pressure was just ... there. I felt the head of his cock pressing, flattening, then -pop- it was inside me.

"Ffuuuck," he hissed.

I had lost. I'd never felt, never imagined anything so big inside me, yet I was sinking. He had just begun. His hot flesh forced its way into my tight, slick tunnel. Inch, by agonizing inch, he forced my cunt open. He let go and I bobbed up with a gasp only to be drawn back again. It was easier for a second - just wet and hot and electric - until he hit the depth of his former exploration. He pushed, adding his hips to the pressure.




Harri: Face the Slut Within Ch. 05



"Enh, enh, enh, enh!" I sounded like a yapping dog.

I looked down - inches to go. He let go again, letting me bob up and down twice - "Fuck! Fuck!" - before grabbing me again. I felt his cock creep deeper into me, penetrate me, so much deeper than I'd ever been touched, so much deeper than I could ever imagine feeling anything - "Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" - then that was it. I was full, full to the brim, his dick scraping my womb, his cock buried in me and my little clitty back grinding around the base.

"Oh, Matt, I - I never -"

"Harri, you're - you're so goddamn beautiful just like that."

I leaned over and kissed him, feeling him move inside me as I did so, throb as I squeezed him. He was inside me. Matt's cock was inside me. "I love the way this feels," I whispered onto his lips.

His hands on my hips started me gently rocking. It wasn't a lot of movement, barely anything on the outside, but with my clit hard against his pelvis and all of that hard ... heat inside me, it was enough. I was off again, racing. Sweat beaded on my back, between my tits.

"Oh, fuck," I said. I leaned forward now, whole inches slipping out of me before I slammed them back in. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" This was going to be it, this was going to be - "Oh, God!" I reared back and rode his pole. Up and down, up and down, his eyes never left where we joined. I slid my hand down my front until - oh God, that was his cock disappearing inside of me, I pressed my hand into the soft flesh over my pelvis and felt him moving, inside, and my clit - begging. I rubbed my clit so he could see. I split my fingers along my lips so I could feel his shaft rubbing past, and I rubbed my clit, harder, and - "I'm commmiiinnng!" I screamed.

He didn't stop. He flipped me onto my back without letting his precious cock slip out of my box. I mauled my tits with my tiny hands. He fucking pounded me, pulling out until just the tip was inside of me, leaving me momentarily empty and aching, then plunging in again so fast that only my little mound kept our pelvises from cracking. As hard as I squeezed my cunt trying to keep him in, grasp his hot meat, he took it from me again. And again. He dominated me. If I was still like this in six months, this is how he would fill me with his babies. He grunted like a pig as he plowed me even as I screamed his name over and over. Matt. Matt. Matt's cock was inside of me.

I came down from my peak, but he was still going strong. Thrust after - fuck - thrust. It was going to happen again. He was building toward ... I wrapped my legs around his back, heels on his ass forcing him into me me harder, faster. His eyes screwed shut. A drop of sweat shook on his chin, then splattered on my chest. I wrapped my hands around his back, clawed his shoulders, and pulled him to me. I was curling into a tight little ball around him. I knew what was going to happen. 

I knew what I wanted. "I'm gonna make you come, Matt. I'm gonna make you come with your fat cock inside me. You won't be able to stop." I was babbling, yelling into his ear. "I'm gonna be dripping with you, Matt. Your cock is going to spray inside of me, pump me full. You're a man and you're gonna pump me full of cum. Do it, Matt, do it." I came again.

He pounded me maybe ten more times, enough for me to come down from my orgasm, then collapsed, body limp and cock still rock hard and twitching. "I - I can't come. Fuck, Harri, I get so close, but I'm so fucking drunk. I shouldn't even be able to get it up, but you're so fucking hot, so tight."

I pushed him off of me. He lay on his back, gasping for breath, cock bobbing in the air.

"Let me," I said. I straddled him, grabbed his tool, and slid it back in me. 

He screwed his eyes shut again. 

"Look at me." I stared right into his eyes. Played with my tits. For him. "You see what you made me?" I raised myself up and dropped back unto his cock. "A slut who just wants you to come inside of her." I did it again - he groaned, I groaned. "That's what I am right now, a horny slut who loves -unh- to fuck your big fat -unh- dick." The more I said it, the truer it became.

It was working. He had his hands on my hips again, was pounding up into me, eyes shut and grunting. And I was - I was - oh, God, it shouldn't be possible. I was getting close again. I pinched and squeezed my fat nipples. I was going to make him come and that was going to make me come again. He let out a ferocious groan - then collapsed limp beneath me, defeated.

It wasn't fucking fair. I was so fucking close. I whimpered, I mewled. My pussy spasmed around his raging steel.

"Fuck, I can't, Harri - I fucking can't."

"Fuck! Fuck!" I leapt off of him. "I know what you need." I bent over, stood on my toes, braced my arms against the back of the sofa, and thrust my ass up for him. "You need to fuck me like this, don't you Matt."

I squeezed my eyes shut. I knew what I was doing, but this was so goddamn much like that moment in Aunt Cathy's bathroom when I was afraid a man could just take me. Three days and now I was in the same pose, begging for it. Like a slut. I felt hot hands on my ass, then - there it was - his hard cock knocking at the back door. I tried to lean back against him, but he wouldn't let me. Instead he slowly, slowly slid into me, making me feel each agonizing inch like it was the first time.

"No! Fuck, Matt, fuck me hard!" I needed him to fill me, I needed him to fuck me fast and hard, I needed him to take away my ability to think about what I was doing. I needed Matt to come deep inside me.

"No. You're a little bitch and you're going to take it any way I give it to you." He bottomed out inside me.

Fuck, he was so much deeper like this, deeper than before. I could feel him stretching me in there - inside - then the tide receded and he was sliding out of me again. "Oh, fuck, Matt. Please, please Matt, I need it hard. I'm begging you for it, please, just - just - fuck me hard again."

"You? I thought this was about me now. I thought you needed me to pump you with my jizz. What kind of hot slut are you, you forgot about that?"

He was right. "I don't know, Matt. I - I just - you make me - you make me so dirty for you. I just need it, I need your cock."

He started in again. Was he - was he even harder than before? Was that possible? He spread my cheeks apart, allowing his cock to press a minute distance even deeper.

"Oh, fuck Harri. I can see everything. Oh, fuck, you have such a perfect pussy."

I was just a teen slut wrapped around his cock. "Tell me, Matt. Tell me what you see."

He was sliding out again. "Your ass is flawless, Harri. Your skin is so soft and you're just bent over, letting me take you like this."

"I want it, Matt."

"And your pussy-" he was sliding back in "-it looks like I'm splitting you apart. And you're so tight, and wet, and your little pink asshole - I can see it squeeze over and over again-" and back out again. Was he speeding up? "My thighs are wet, you're so wet. And you're letting me take you, begging me for it. And we're sweating and-" out again. He was going faster. "I wanted you all night, but I couldn't fucking get it up. You were right next to me, so hot in that little skirt, and I wanted to -" He slammed into me - I whimpered. Out again, so fast. "But you did it. Fuck! You're so fucking hot and I'm so fucking hard -" 

He lost control. He pounded my ass with his hips, his cock fucking me like I begged him to. I felt the waves of impact travel through my body, my tits jerking back and forth with every stroke. That wasn't the only difference. The angle was a little changed from before, either way before. It meant I felt him a little differently, not just deeper, that too, but like he was thrusting along a different side of me. And there was a pressure building - like I had to pee, but I knew my bladder was empty. Possessed by what desire I don't know - I certainly couldn't handle any more than he was giving me - I reached down and started rubbing my clit. It relieved that new pressure.

"Oh, fuck!" I reared back, pressing against his sweaty chest, to look at him, my head against his glorious tattoo. I writhed around his rigid pole. "My pussy," I said, "I have to rub it. You're going to make me come again." But I couldn't keep my balance this way. I was shaking.

"Let me," he said. 

I leaned over, once more against the back of the sofa. He wrapped both his arms around my hips, had both his hands on my cunt, pinching, mashing rubbing. That pressure was back - I didn't know what it was. I rolled my hips back, fighting it, fighting him. All I could hear was wet slapping of his hips on my ass. I felt it travel deep within me, an obliterating contraction. I tried to hold back, but he kept pounding me with his cock, my ass shaking with each impact, pushing past the edge.

"Fuuuck!" I screamed, holding back one single instant longer. I sprayed a wave of liquid out of my pussy, gushing around his cock, all over his hands. That orgasm filled me with shame and revulsion, but he didn't stop.

"Fuck, Harri, that's so fucking hot. You squirted all over me, fuck -" His hands were cold and wet on my ass, too slick to hold on. "You're a squirting slut - fuck! You just can't get enough."

My - my man liked what had happened, what I'd done all over him. Emboldened, but burning with shame at what I'd become, I begged for more. "Matt, I need you to -" fuck, I was such a dirty whore "-I need you to smack it. Smack my ass, Matt. I need it."

I felt his hand leave me, then - smack! "Unh, unh, unh, unh!" It did things to me - when he did that, drove me on automatic. "Smack it again - fuck! - unh! Unh! Unh! Unh!" Like clockwork - smack! - and I'd buck back four times, crying out for him. "Unh! Unh! Unh! Unh!" Smack! "Unh! Unh! Unh! Unh!" It took the choice away.

I was bucking too hard for him to keep me straight, tits flying everywhere. I couldn't believe he was still so fucking hard. His tried to grab me again, but his hand landed crooked, wet thumb right over my asshole, and - "Oh, fuck, Matt, stick it in me. Stick your thumb in my ass." 

He pushed hard and, oh fuck it was so dirty, having two things in my holes. It was so tight back there, and he kept moving it in and out opposite his cock.

"Oh, fuck, Matt. Can you feel it when you do that? Can you feel your cock in me, fucking me, when you have your thumb in my ass? Can you feel how dirty I am? Unh, I'm such a dirty slut for you."

He wrapped his other arm around my hips again and it was thumb in my ass, cock in my cunt, fingers on my clitty. He was going to make me - and I was, screaming, coming again. I was bucking against him, screaming, and he was still so fucking hard and he couldn't finish.

I pulled away from him, turned around, and pushed him back against the sofa. I knelt over his feet, grabbed his cock with both hands, and started furiously jacking it. I looked up at him, mouth open, and licked my lips.

"I know what you want, Matt. You want to come all over my face, my tits. You're so close Matt." I couldn't keep using two hands on him - I was too greedy. I stuck two fingers - no, three - in my pussy and starting fucking myself, thumb on my clit. "Unh! Unh! Do it! Do it, Matt. Come on my face!"

"Oh, fuck, Harri. Put it in your pretty mouth and suck it. Please, Harri. I'm so fucking close. Please - please suck my cock." He bucked his hips toward my mouth.

I turned my head, deflecting his cock, my hand still around it, across my sweaty cheek. This was the final frontier. I had a man's cock on my face, Matt's cock, rank with the smell of my dirty teen pussy. He'd fucked me with it all night like a little bitch, made me come so many times I couldn't keep track. I stuck my tongue out, just a little, and tasted myself on him as his cock slid back, his skin like silk, across my lips. I opened my mouth as wide as I could and pointed him at it, not touching anything inside. If the vision of this didn't make him come, nothing would.

"Fffuuuuck," he groaned above me.

A tiny drop landed on my tongue - his pre-cum, a little salty, a little musty. I froze, three fingers deep in my pussy. My tongue darted to scoop up the rest, and I was lost. He bucked his hips, bumping himself off the back of my mouth. My lips closed around him. I was sucking his cock.

Once I crossed that line I was ravenous. I gobbled his fat cock, licking, slurping, and moaning around whatever I could fit into my mouth. The sounds of my oral lust filled my ears. I couldn't get enough of his big dick on my tongue. I jacked the rest of his rod with one hand and fucked myself with the other until I was shaking.

"Fuck, Harri, you're mouth. You're fucking sucking my cock."

And I was going to come again, too, with Matt's cock in my mouth. I was shaking, screaming around his cock, barely doing anything for him except squeezing my fist and sucking between breaths. But it was finally enough. 

Matt's whole body tensed. He arched his back off the sofa. Beneath my knees, his toes curled in the fur rug. "Oh fuck! Oh Harri! Harri! Harri! Harri!"

I actually felt that first spurt as it forced it's way through my fist and exploded in my mouth, salty, bitter, thick, watery, sweet semen. He forced cock deeper, into my throat. I choked, gagged on his cock trying to swallow as fast as I could, trying to breathe. My fingers were still in my pussy, and I was coming again. I couldn't hold it all in - I felt jizz escape and dribble across my lips. I whimpered. I sucked. I needed.

His dick was just pulsing in my mouth now, emptied, starting to deflate. I licked it all over, licked my lips, milked him with my tongue, desperate for one last taste. Matt pulled out of my mouth, fell to his knees, threw his arm around my shoulder, and dragged me to the floor. With his last thought he rolled the edge of the fur rug over us - it was heaven - and we were gone.

I awoke floating in a cocoon of white fur, cradled in his arms, the morning light filtering in a soft glow. I held as still as I could - was that? - his cock half-erect and nestled in the crack of my ass. I reached between my legs and lazily swiveled him so he lay along my dirty slit. It felt like my lips down there were dry and stuck together, but it felt so right to have him against me. I dozed.

Later - minutes, an hour - he was harder, gently throbbing against my clit with the beating of his heart. My nipples were hard for him. I could see them. I wanted to move against him, to grind, but I - I didn't want to wake him. I just needed a tiny pressure, a little push, to sate me and let me drift off again.

I held my breath to stifle a moan as I rocked my hips just a tiny, tiny bit, waking myself up a fraction. His cock broke the dry seal on my pussy. Hot, fresh juice seeped out of me, coating him. I gasped at the sudden return of that electric sensation.

"Mmmm," he groaned, him still almost completely asleep. He reached down and peeled himself away from - no! I yearned for him, I needed - fuck! - he plunged all the way into me with one stroke.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," I groaned. He was so hard in me, so hot. I squeezed and squeezed and ... then it was safe to sleep again, complete.

I awoke for the fourth time to him moving within me, rocking his hips to stroke a few inches into and out of my mushy center. I rocked my hips gently back against him.

"Morning," he said, softly, when he noticed my responsiveness.

I didn't have words yet. This was so different from last night, so much softer. We weren't fucking or screwing - he was making love to me. We were in no rush, had no rhythm. He would stop and I would focus on the still throbbing. I would squirm my hips just to feel the head of his cock slide around within me.

But, as these things must, over long minutes a tiny sense of urgency was born. Our breathing quickened. He put his hand on my hip to guide me as he pulled progressively further out with each stroke. I raised my leg, giving him better access, baring myself to his cock. We both shivered, still over-sensitive from the night before. He licked the sweat off the back of my neck.

"Oh, Matt, yes," I whispered. I started shaking in a gentle orgasm.

He slid himself back into me, deep as he could go, and held me tight in his arms. We were perfectly still for a moment, then I felt it, that first hard -twitch- followed by a hot gush. He came as nature intended - his cock buried in my pussy. -Twitch, twitch- neither of us moved.

"Jess is so lucky to have you."

"Have me? What do you call last night? What do you call this?"

"Nothing that matters, not really, not between the three of us."

He relaxed behind me and I lowered my leg. Our breathing slowed. I could feel him deflating inside of me, leaving me ... empty. He was right. For all we'd done, I missed Jess, wished she were in my arms.

He slid away from me, finally extracting his limp penis from my oozing hole. "Why don't you go take a shower - I'll - I'll start to put this room back together again.

"Do I have to?"

He unrolled us from the rug. "Yes."

I shielded my eyes from the sudden brightness. Shafts of light cast horizontal shadows, telling me it was still early. I rolled onto my knees, then climbed to my feet on shaky legs. Articles of our clothing lay scattered around the partitioned area. I hoped I never saw that stupid yellow thong again. 

I padded to the bathroom where I took the hottest shower I could stand. I scrubbed every inch of my body and once more over my pussy for good measure. I brushed my teeth, twice, to get the taste of morning scotch out of it. I wrapped myself in a big fuzzy towel and went to find Matt, in the kitchen area, already dressed.

I couldn't believe it. "You aren't going to shower?"

"I brushed my teeth in here. So?"

"You're at least as dirty as I was, and I was feeling pretty disgusting there in the bathroom."

"I believe you were quite a bit dirtier than I was, Harri." His grin faded. "I just want to remember - to have a bit of - you on me for a bit longer. Is that so bad? Besides, I can shower up at the house and we need to go soon if we're going to meet Jimmy."

I shrugged. His day. My overnight bag held more of the basic work clothes - hip-hugger jeans, t-shirt, basic white bra and low-rise thong. I caught my image in the mirror. I looked so much younger dressed like this, more ... innocent. Innocent, I smirked. Too late for me.



Harri: Face the Slut Within Ch. 06



Jess called on the way up to the house, saying she was just leaving Seattle and would be back in a few hours. I shamelessly told her I loved her in front of Matt. He rolled his eyes. She asked how my night was - I told her she'd been right. About everything. She told me she already knew that much.

Matt took a call from Jimmy, who I was finally going to see today. He'd be arriving well before Jess and, with his help, we'd be able to finish the whole thing that day. I was to fly out the next, on the Sunday, and the house closed on Monday. Today was the day.

"So, Jimmy," Matt said when we pulled into Aunt Cathy's driveway. "You know he's got this ... thing for you."

"Jess told me. I'm supposed to tease him? And he's been lifting weights all summer? That about covers it."

"Jess would tell you to do that." He sighed. "Look. I know you and Jess and I have always been closer, and it was Jimmy tagging along. He's still just the kid. And Jess and I don't get jealous ... about things, but Jimmy?"

"So you're saying ... kid gloves?"

"It's worse. He's very ... possessive of you? He's got this picture, you're dad sent it, I dunno. He might think he's in love with you. I'm just saying, please be ... considerate ... in what you tell him. About Jess and me and you. And he's going to make me help him set something up. And it's going to be awkward and ... just go easy on him. You don't have to ... do anything. But a little bit would go a long, long way."

He was saying it would be good if I let the slut out just a little bit for Jimmy. We both got out of the car.

"You have to tell him, Matt. I'm having enough trouble coming to terms with what I've been doing without starting to lie about it."

"You're right. I - sorry."

I let it go. "Thanks, Matt. For ... everything."

"The pleasure," he said with a bow, "was all mine."

"Not hardly."

He headed in to start moving the new boxes down to the basement for the day, leaving me alone to collect my thoughts. He was right about me and Jess - it wasn't just sex, it was different with her somehow, some way he couldn't touch. I'd ride Matt piggyback, but I wouldn't hold his hand. But that left Jimmy as a question mark, the closest thing to a stranger I had left to meet this trip. He thought he loved me, whoever that was. What did he mean to me?

I didn't have to wonder for the first few hours. I started with Aunt Cathy's closet, putting into a special box anything I thought I might like to have. We were almost the same size in a lot of ways, making it almost as if fate decreed I should be taking over her place in the world. I was on my hands and knees in the closet when Matt came to find me.

"Harri?" he said at the door.

"Down here!" I couldn't spare the attention just that moment to look up. As soon as I took my eyes of one kind of shoe the details would slip and I'd never find its match.

I felt his hand trace down my ass. I wiggled my hips, trying to get him between my legs, where he gave me just a light pinch. Typical. I sat back and looked up at him.

"I've, uh, got to run to town to do some stuff with the equipment at my studio."

"Okay," I said. Why was he telling me this? Why did it matter?"

"Okay. I just wanted you to know. So, you know, I won't be here for awhile."

"Okay, Matt."

I turned back to what I was doing, puzzling over his words, while I sorted the last of the shoes. At the back of the closet was a little box I accidentally flipped over. Fuzzy handcuffs and lube. Fantastic. I left them on the corner of the desk so Jess could stash them with the rest of the secrets - or maybe just take it all home tonight.

Had Matt been wearing jeans this morning? I'd thought he had on cargo pants. Was-was this the signal that Jimmy had arrived? Was this the stupid, awkward thing? Whatever it was, I'd get to see the kid. That lightened my spirits considerably.

But, there in the main room of the basement was Matt again, shirtless, watching as he slowly flexed his arms. Except this Matt didn't have a tattoo, and, were those the same pants that - fucker was actually trying to pretend to be Matt? I mean, maybe in a dim room. Shit, the room was dim, so, not even then.

"Jimmy!"

He looked up, startled, sheepish.

"How's it going, kiddo? What's up with the ... shirtless vibe?" Okay, so I'd simultaneously taken every bit of Matt's advice and drop-kicked it out of the yard. Awkward my ass. This was cheerleader stumbles across quarterback in the locker room. I felt a little bit racy.

"I - " He cleared his throat. He still spoke with a slightly higher pitch than his older brother, but he was trying. "I - yeah. Moving stuff, you know? Shirts get in the way sometimes. So, you go by Harri now? Can I call you that?"

"Oh come here." I hugged him, chest warm beneath my cheek. "Why're you doing this?"

"What do you mean?" Jimmy's voice squeaked.

"Did you do it because you thought I ... wanted you to? Because you thought I'd ... like it? What has Matt been telling you. Just be yourself, Jimmy. Let's have a talk."

"It was spontaneous, I swear. All my idea. I was going to - you know about that?"

I was such a softy. "Know about what?"

"Well, it's just that Matt had been telling me - what you were like ... last night and - and I was thinking how cool you were, you know? And I couldn't help it. I was getting turned on, even though he's my brother, even though you were with my brother, thinking about the things he did to you. And I think Matt could tell, said I had nothing to lose, that I should face my fears, you know, be like you a little. And I kind of agreed, and he left, and here I am?"

"And here you are." I pulled back from him. "Am I your fear, Jimmy?"

"Well, no, it's just, well ..." 

He looked at me with those big, doughy, dumb kid eyes. I couldn't believe we were the same age and would both be going to college in a few weeks. Then I looked at him again and thought about everything that had happened to me over the last few days. I ran my hands over his shoulders, down his arms. Held his hands. I didn't even go so far in my mind as 'in for a penny, in for a pound'. I just thought, wouldn't it feel nice if ...

"How do you feel, Jimmy? What do you want? Because I'm still trying to figure that out for myself, and maybe you could help me."

Jimmy shrugged. "I feel like I - I know I - want to -be- with you, but I don't know what that means exactly? I don't think I'm going to be very good at this."

I laughed. "Maybe what we both need is some practice. Come on."

I tugged his behind me to what used to be the game room. Why, exactly, Aunt Cathy had a foosball table we never really understood. I suspected that was going to end up at Matt's before the weekend was through. The only other thing left in this particular room was a ratty futon in that ubiquitous office-furniture-vinyl that looks old a year after you buy it, and hard as a rock to boot. The futon was unfolded, probably because of Matt crashing up here yesterday morning. Jimmy and I sat at the edge.

"So," I said to him.

"Uhhhh."

I laughed and laughed. 

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No." I smiled. "Yes."

"I wouldn't laugh at you, you know."

"No, Jimmy. You're very nice and very sweet and ... maybe that's what I want you to learn from this, okay?" 

I'm making him sound stupid - he wasn't. He was just an eighteen-year-old boy. I probably make myself sound a lot smarter than I was at every step of the way. But anyway.

I turned around, sat on his thigh with my arm around his neck, and gave his a peck on the lips. "How can I make it up to you?"

"Uuuuh, uuuuuh." Poor kid.

"Feels like you're getting a little excited." I stroked the side of his neck. "What're you gonna do with that?"

"Nothing, but - oh, fuck - ow!"

I hopped off Jimmy's lap. "What's wrong? What is it?"

"Clothes - fuck."

"So loosen them." 

I pulled the drawstring on his pants and ... nothing? Jimmy had put on Matt's cargo pants without any underwear. What could he have been wearing that was so embarrassing? More importantly, how could he not be wearing anything under these cargo pants - they were practically burlap. No wonder they hurt.

"You really didn't think this through, did you."

"Spontaneous!"

"Stand up. Let's get these off."

"Off?" Jimmy couldn't move fast enough, sat back down, even, with the pants around his ankles. "I - uh."

"Go on, touch it. Touch yourself for me. Show me who you are." I sat, legs curled under me, beside his.

"My ... self." Jimmy gently grasped his cock by his fingertips. "You want me to ... touch myself ... for me."

My nipples were tightening. Jimmy hadn't noticed yet. "I told you. I'm trying to figure out who I am, what I like. You want to help? Go on, stroke it. Stroke your cock."

"Like this?" Jimmy ran his fingertips up and down his shaft.

"Use your whole hand. I want to see how you really do it."

"Like this?" He wrapped his fist around his cock and gave it a yank. "Unh, fuck, this is intense."

It wasn't. It was boring. I'd learned three, no four important things. One: Jimmy shaved his cock, too. What was it with this family? Two: His penis looked exactly like Matt's, I mean, down to the weird vein. Three: Shit, being a slut came naturally to me. And, Four: This was the least sexy thing imaginable. Poor kid.

"Here ... let me," I said.

"Your hand looks so tiny - oh, fuck!"

I stroked him like only a porn connoisseur knows how, gently covering the whole length, squeezing my fist around the head. He reached around behind me and started rubbing me through my jeans. I let him. When the first drop of pre-cum glittered I bent over and licked it up with just the tip of my tongue.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, when you - it was - it was like lightning, my whole body, and that was just the tip."

I let go and sat up. "It gets better. Kick off your pants." I stood up and took off my shirt, my bra, all my clothes - he couldn't take his eyes off me - and curled up next to Jimmy's lap again.

"Oh my God," Jimmy said, "I can't believe this is happening."

Small world, I thought. Had I been that self-centered the last couple of days? Were Jimmy and I really that different? "I'm gonna suck if for you, Jimmy, and you're gonna love it." I wrapped my hand around his cock again, felt it angrily flex inside of my fingers.

"Oh my God," he whispered.

I leaned over his lap. "Stick you fingers in me, baby." I licked the head again.

He clumsily reached around behind me to stick one, then two fingers in my waiting puss. "You're so wet already, Harri."

I moaned when he found home. "It's getting ready for you, Jimmy. You don't think I'm going to stop with tasting you, do you?"

I licked the head of Jimmy's cock again, then, this time, let it slip inside my mouth. His new cock was hot and hard and already had a hint of male sweaty musk to it. He gasped and started jamming his fingers in faster. He was too excited for me, too fast. This was about me learning about him. I tried to ignore it. 

I stopped when his cock hit the back of my throat, then bobbed back up and swirled my tongue around the head. I sucked, hard, just to feel the rushing blood make it swell between my lips. I pulled his back into my mouth and, this time, when he hit the back of my mouth I kept pushing and ... his cock kept moving in. I couldn't believe it ... it was ... it was moving down my throat like I was swallowing it. I was swallowing Jimmy's cock. I pushed until I felt his balls on my cheek - I had his entire cock in my mouth.

I moaned around Jimmy's entire cock. My hips bucked and his fingers found a new rhythm. I raised back up and immediately dropped down, engulfing him with my mouth. Jimmy groaned and hunched over me. The way his fingers pounded my pussy told me he wanted faster. He was close. I pulled up and dropped again, pulled up and dropped again. His entire body tensed, fingers froze in me. I pulled up, swirled my tongue around the head - and he exploded in my mouth. I had time to bury him once more, feel him shoot down the back of my throat, before he was spent. 

I reached back to pull his hand out of me, then stretched out with my head on his lap. He collapsed backward on the unfolded futon.

"How was it, baby?" I asked.

"It was - it was - I don't have the words. It was so intense. There was nothing else but what you were doing to me with your mouth. I couldn't think, I couldn't feel, it was just - and then, just when I thought it couldn't get more intense, you did something and - I - it felt like I was exploding."

"Mmmmm. You did explode."

"I - I - but you - you didn't come. Oh, Harri, I - I'm so sorry. I'm so bad at this."

"So?" I said. "It was my first time, too, once. And I've been led to believe no guy has done any better than you did just now."

"But - but -"

"You'll just have to make it up to me on round two."

"Round ... two?" Before my eyes, Jimmy's slick cock started to swell again, from half mast on the way to full.

"Chalk one up for the boy," I said aloud. Looked like he'd be ready to go in under a minute and I had an itch I needed to scratch. I thought back to last night, what had been easiest to figure out, control, penetrate. I felt my bottom lip force its way out into a pout, not believing I was going to do this again. I hopped up and bent over the arm of the futon. "Go on, get behind me, stud."

He was up behind me in a flash, jabbing at me - missing.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down, Jimmy. Take it easy. We're in no hurry."

"It's just so hard to control - I feel like - like I have to -"

"Relax. There's a time for that, but it's better when it's slow at first. Put your hands around my waist." I reached between my legs and grabbed just the tip of Jimmy's cock. I rolled my hips up and slid him against my clit. "It gives you time to -aah- focus what it feels like." I rubbed myself against his shaft. "Being in charge is about fighting yourself sometimes - mmm - trying to keep control -ooh- until you can't take it anymore and you lose to yourself. If you don't have control -" I was so wet now my palm was slick around his cock from what had leaked past. I pushed his back one more time and the head slipped into place. I whimpered and used my hands to hold my cheeks apart. "Not being - ah, fuck, Jimmy - sometimes little sluts don't know what they want. They can't be trusted with control. They just want you to fuck them, Jimmy. Fuck me."

He slid in, slowly, all the way to the hilt in one go, and held his cock there like testing the fit on a glove. We groaned in unison. Even through my shame of being such a slut, of begging for it so readily, I wanted to see the look on Jimmy's face.

"Tell me what you feel, Jimmy."

"It's - it's - oh, fuck, Harri. You're hot and tight and - and it doesn't feel anything like when I have a finger in you. This - this is about filling. Fuck. This thing I have is so huge, and it's all inside you." He pulled out half way, a little more. "When it's outside it feels like the skin on - fuck, my cock - that there's too much inside, that it's going to explode." Jimmy pushed back in, not nearly hard enough for me. "But when it's inside - fuck, my cock is in your pussy, Harri, your pussy wet for my cock - the weight of you, the heat of you, it balances out that pressure." Jimmy'd found poetry. He stroked again, almost out to the tip and back. "Fuck, like I belong in there like this, Harri. That's what it feels like." And again. "And it's all I can feel, like my whole body is there inside of you."

I was starting to not be able to pay attention to his words. He was getting the hang of this, speeding up, but now it wasn't fast enough. "Fuck, Jimmy. Fuck me harder. Please, Jimmy."

Paradoxically, he slowed. Fuck whatever inborn instincts these brothers had. I was furious. I just wanted an orgasm. Here I am, holding myself open for him, bending over for his cock, edging closer, begging him, and - 

We heard the door slam shut at the top of the entrance stairs. I let go of my ass and tried to pull away, but his hands around my waist wouldn't let me. He slid into me again, maintaining his steady rhythm.

"Jimmy," I hissed. "Matt's back already. We have about ten seconds to get dressed before he finds us." Matt probably thought he was doing me a favor, saving me.

"Nooo, nooo, don't make me stop. You feel too good. Just a little bit more, I promise."

"Jimmy, he'll see us!" I had no leverage, physical or otherwise.

"Nooo, we can be quiet. If we're quiet, he won't even look in here." 

With his hands around my waist like that he had total control of my center of gravity, and the strength to move me wherever he wanted. Jimmy had his feet planted, now, and was using my entire body to stroke his cock from the inside. I felt him within me, hard as rock and nearly bursting. I dropped my weight on a downstroke to help, to ... what was I doing? I felt a touch of that new pressure begin to build. Jimmy was holding his breath and all I heard was wet slapping and Matt's footsteps on the metal stairs. My tits bounced. I grabbed them and a thought bubbled into my head: so what if Matt saw?

All he'd see is Jimmy having sex with me, no different than what I did last night. What was wrong with that? But he was another person, and he was going to be watching me, he was going to be able to see me, really, see how much I loved this. Matt's feet entered my view at the top of the last flight of stairs. He stopped - as if he thought he heard something. My nipples were on fire, scraping the palms of my hands. 

"Fuck," I whispered. "He's going to see us. He's going to see me -" I gasped "- getting fucked." What if Matt didn't just want to watch. What if he wanted to ... join in.

Jimmy was tensing up behind me. "Shh! Shh!" he whispered harshly. "I'm so close, Harri. I can't control it. You just have to be quiet."

Matt took another two steps down. Quiet as we were trying to be, Jimmy's cock stroking, stoking the fire in my pussy, I knew he could hear ... something. Two more steps. I knew he would catch us. He was almost in view. Then I felt it. Jimmy quietly groaned behind me and I felt the twitch and the warm gush inside me. He stoked again, driving his semen to my teen womb, but it wasn't enough yet. I still hadn't come - and it wasn't fucking fair.

"Fuck, Jimmy," I yelled. "Keep going!" I pinched my nipples as hard as I could.

There was no reason for Jimmy to stop - no physiological reason. But we had a problem. He was just as hard as just before he pumped my cunt full of his seed, so he didn't stop, didn't even slow down. The problem was I yelled my demand. Matt's jaw dropped. 

"Unh!" I yelled. "You like what you see, Matt? Jimmy's cock is exactly like yours, did you know that? He made me suck it, and now he's fucking me with it."

"That's not - that's not -" Jimmy said between gasps.

"Shut the fuck up, Jimmy! And don't stop!" I dropped my hands from my breasts. "You like watching my titties, Matt? You like watching them -unh- bounce we he slams into me? He's so deep inside of me - fuck! He just came inside of me, Matt, just like you did this morning. It's dripping down my leg." It was. I wanted to taste it - our juices mixed together. "You know I'm a slut for your cock, Matt. You know just thinking about it gets me all wet. He's fucking me with your cock, Matt. What are you going to do about it?"

Jimmy was behind me, still fucking me. He was squeezing my waist, almost lifting me off my feet with every stroke, and he groaned every time I said Matt's name. Matt strode up to me, his eyes full of angry lust. He unzipped his jeans and pushed them and his underwear down to his thighs. He grabbed a handful of my silky blond hair and shoved my mouth around his cock.

Fuck. Dirty boy still hadn't showered. His cock was rancid with the smell, taste of day-old sweat, cum, and the inside of my pussy. I couldn't get enough. At first I could get everything into my mouth, licked over everything, even his smooth balls. Matt's cock started growing immediately. He pulled me back by the hair and thrust me down again, just his cock on my tongue this time. I wrapped my lips over my teeth and he started fucking my face. I reached a hand between my legs and started rubbing my little clitty. It felt like I was covered with thick foam down there, Jimmy's cum frothing out of my kitty.




Harri: Face the Slut Within Ch. 06



Matt grunted. "What's it like, Jimmy. What's it like, fucking her like this?"

"Shit, bro, I had no idea. It's so intense. It's so different than what it's supposed to - then what it feels like when I'm - shit, Matt, you're my brother. I - I can't -"

"Yeah? We're both fucking Harri now, aren't we? Smack her ass. She loves it when you do that. She'd beg you for it if she could."

Smack! "Mmf! Mmf! Mmf! Mmf!" around Matt's cock. Like clockwork. 

He reached under and pinched my nipples. Pinched, twisted, tugged. He grabbed hair on the other side of my head to switch hands. "Smack her again. Yeah!"

Smack! "Mmf! Mmf! Mmf! Mmf!" Matt knew exactly what buttons to push and, between the brothers, they could hit them all. "I'm getting close, Jimmy. Her mouth's so hot I'm gonna come down her throat."

"She - she hasn't come yet, Matt. I think she needs it, bad."

"Yeah she does. Lick your finger and stick it in her ass."

That did it - this eighteen year old kid shoving a finger up my ass just because his older brother told him to - pushed me so far over the edge I lost myself. I came and came - I saw stars and hypoxic flashes of light on my retinas. My jaw locked up and I was barely aware of Matt spewing into my throat. I think I swallowed just to keep breathing. Maybe I felt Jimmy's version of that cock twitching inside me again, but it was a ripple in a tidal wave. Between them they had to pick me up, still frozen, and lay me on the stretched-out futon. They collapsed on either side of me, sandwiching me in male muscle.

I came to in the midst of their awkward silence. Matt had zipped back up again and Jimmy covered himself with his hands. 

I broached the tension. "Well, that was ... intense."

"Are you ... okay with that?" Jimmy asked.

I thought for a long time. "I think so. Yes. I'm not ... proud? Of it? It was right on the line. But there? In the moment?" I stretched out, arms over my head. I was still naked and, despite what had happened, I felt delicious. 

Jimmy lightly rubbed my stomach. "Yeah, in the moment ..."

Matt spoke for the first time. "Are you sure? I'm not even sure I am. I mean, when I saw you both, it was ... but Jimmy and I have never, I mean never done anything even remotely -"

"How different is it than you never, not ever, doing anything with me?"

"I -"

I cut him off. "I just feel like this time, this accidental, wonderful time is quickly drawing to a close." I found Jimmy's hand and squeezed it. "The way things are working out, with Jess especially, is going to change me forever. I have to go back tomorrow, I have to start a new life."

"I know," said Matt. "It has to be this way."

"And I'm not saying this won't ever happen again," I continued. "Me, either of you, both of you. Jess, too. But these ... magic days ... are almost over."

Matt added his hand to my belly for me to squeeze. "Is there anything else you'd like? To try on your last day?"

I thought for a long time, thought through being sure and back to uncertainty. But it was like I told them, like they had told me: finding the limits sometimes meant going beyond them.

"There is one more thing, I think. I think it's past where I want to be. I know it is, but I need to be sure. I need to know where -I- am."

"What is it?" Jimmy asked.

"Matt, back upstairs I found a tube of some kind of, uh, lubricant. It should be on Aunt Cathy's nightstand. Would you go and get it, please?"

His eyes widened and he got up to fetch it.

"What is it?" Jimmy repeated in our brief moment of privacy. "What do you need - oh." He caught on. "Are you sure you want-"

I silenced Jimmy with a kiss. "Don't say it. I'm not sure I can go through with it if you say it aloud."

He nodded. "What do you want me to do?"

"Just be yourself. I like you better that way." I thought about the slightly more practical side of things. "Would you help me try to ... enjoy it? As much as I can?"

"Of course I will. Come here."

I leaned over to kiss his again, but he stopped me.

"Not like that. There's still some things -I- want to try." Jimmy used his masculine strength to pull me up and maneuver me until I sat, almost straddling his face. Then he pulled me down.

"Fuck," I exhaled. I was still so sensitive, so swollen, so ... messy. He'd come in my twice and he couldn't get enough. "Slow - slow down please."

Jimmy didn't. He lapped at everything, my juices, hers. He wouldn't stop. I felt like I was on the verge of blacking out. Matt was watching us from the doorway, naked himself, tube in one hand, but flaccid. I ground my hips into Jimmy's face. He was almost - oh, there it was.

"Come here," I told Matt in a husky voice.

"Are-are you sure about this Harri? I-I don't know if I can-"

"Don't ask me that. Not about this. Just come here. I know what to do." I held him in front of me and lightly sucked his cock, but it did no good. Jimmy's cock was already hard below me, and, wow, I never thought a boy could be so excited again so quickly. Four times? Right in a row? Boy needed to get laid. But the way he was working me, I was going to lose control before I had a chance to do ... what I needed to. 

"Oooh, what's the matter, Matt. You've never had a little slut ask you to stick it in her ass before?" That got a reaction in my hand. "Mmm, looks like one part of you likes the idea. What about the rest? Don't you want to take me up the ass?" Definite progress. "Don't you want to look down and see your big fat cock in the ass of that teen slut Harri?" I wasn't sure I was even playing anymore, not entirely. "Because it's going to be tight in there, so you're going to have to really want it." The decision was getting easier in the right kind of moment. I squeezed Matt around the base of his cock and sucked the life back into him as I had a quick, shuddering, shameful, messy orgasm on Jimmy's face. 

I started jacking Jimmy's cock, a sudden enough sensation for him to gasp and leave my cunt alone. I emptied lube all over Matt's cock and oiled him up. Two hands, two cocks. Next up: two holes, two co- They were both erect - stiff and proud - waiting for me.

I flipped my body around, lined up with Jimmy on the futon, and pinned his cock to his belly with my juicy slit. I looked at Matt over my shoulder. "Do it."

I felt him climb over both of us and hunch over my back. Then I felt -him-, cold, wet, and impossibly huge, press into place. 

"What do you want me to do?" Jimmy asked from beneath me.

I started gently grinding my clit onto his cock, anything to provide a bit of a distraction. "Just wait your turn, lover."

Matt was lightly, rhythmically leaning into me, trying to time things to my grinding on Jimmy. I thought being a little looser ... back there ... from the ministrations of Jimmy's finger would have helped - and maybe it did - but this still felt insane. I bit my lip and -pushed- back. The pressure became impossible, but still nothing.

Matt stroked my sides. "Just relax, Harri."

"You fucking relax!" I snapped back. "Or fuck me in the ass already!" I -puuushed- again and this time he grabbed my waist and pushed back and, "Fuuuuuuck," I wailed. 

He was inside, barely. I could feel the ridge behind the head of his cock crest inside me. And it felt like every part of my body was trying to push him out again.

"Fuck me, fuck me you bastard," I told him. 

I was grinding my clit harder onto Jimmy now, and he was starting to rock his hips back into mine. He grabbed my head, pulled me down, and roughly kissed me, thrust his tongue into my mouth. I broke away, gasping.

"I can't wait any longer," Jimmy said.

My ass was burning. My ass was stretched around Matt like - I couldn't imagine anything so tight, anything so impossibly huge. My ass was on fire, and still, in tiny, rocking thrusts, he sunk infinitesimally greater amounts of his shaft into my dirty shit-hole.

"Fuuuuck," I groaned again. Pain, revulsion, shame, and lust whirled within me, but somewhere deeper, beyond all that, a nagging sense of pleasure at the simple sensation sprouted within me.

Below, Jimmy scooted down just a little bit, trying to work himself into the fray, but he couldn't line up right. Inexperience. I was too far gone to help. I felt Matt bend and reach down between my legs and saw Jimmy's eyes go wide when his brother manhandled his cock into place, only to roll back in his head when he it slammed home.

I came. I came with Matt's cock not even all the way in me. Jimmy never even moved. They froze with me shuddering between them.

"What are you waiting for!" I screamed. "Take me in my ass, take me in my pussy! What are you waiting for, take me!"

Jimmy started working beneath me, inexpertly fucking my swollen cunt with only enthusiasm and misplaced love to make up for poor position and no leverage. Matt pulled almost all the way out and I felt the cold shock of fresh lube on my asshole. Next thing I knew, he plunged in at breakneck speed, threatening to tear me in half. He felt endless, I felt bottomless, and we all froze when we realized Jimmy and Matt's balls were wedged together at the exact same place between my legs.

"Fuuuuuck," I whispered. It was the only encouragement I had.

Then they were both talking, stammering, trying to release their thoughts before they exploded.

"Oh my God I can feel his cock inside you when-" "Fuck you're so tight-" "Fuck I can't believe you let-" "You want-" "I can't believe you-" "You-" "You" "Harri" "Harri" Me. I knew tears ran down my face. I knew Jimmy had my nipple between his fingers, then his teeth. I knew Matt had stopped holding back. I knew he was smacking my ass even as he dominated it from inside. I knew they were screaming at me, at each other.

Pleasure disappeared. Pain disappeared. Feeling disappeared. Sound disappeared. Light disappeared. My senses shut down until there was me, whoever that was any more, me floating alone with a slowly mounting pressure. I picked it up, weighing it in my hands as it grew. It split, this pressure, until it had arms and legs and a head. It climbed up my arms, this pressure, and I let it. It climbed down my back and grew around me, swallowing me, first my legs, then my torso. I fell backward forever and watched it cover my hands, felt it on the back of my neck. It engulfed my head, covered my eyes, my ears, my nose, finally poured into my mouth, finally, then,

A flash of light. I'd screamed myself hoarse, covered in sweat, bucking on two cocks, squirting liquid from my sad, abused vagina. There was blood on my hands from clawing Jimmy's shoulders and blood in my mouth from biting my tongue. My continued spasms drove their deflating cocks from my body. They held me between them until I stopped shaking, stopped sobbing. They held me, cocooned from the world, until my breathing slowed. Then they just held me.

Finally I moved of my own volition and my encasement opened. I stood, shaky and sore, and couldn't look at either of them. "I need to be alone for awhile," I said, my voice still scratchy.



Harri: Face the Slut Within Ch. 07



I gingerly walked upstairs, then down the cold hallway to the bathroom where I cranked the shower to as hard and as hot as I could stand it. For a long time I simply stood without thought, letting the water wash my outside clean. When thoughts started to intrude, with the water beating on my breasts, spray stinging my nipples, I rubbed myself to a tiny, lonely, angry orgasm just to squeeze the memories out of me and let them run down my leg and out the drain. And then I stood again.

I wasn't ashamed of what I'd done. There could never be any shame in asking myself a question, in trying to define the boundaries of my soul. But I felt emptiness where I expected an answer. I was nothing more - or less - not slut, not innocent, not troll, than the person who had done those things.

The water never got cold, but I was getting too hot. I shut it off and stood, thoughtless, in the steamed bathroom, watching my blurred shape in the clouded mirror, wondering what image would emerge. When the room finally cooled and the vent sucked it all away and the mirror cleared ... there was just me. And I stood.

There was a knock at the door and Jess, my Jess, slipped in. She was beautiful and she held my wet body to hers and kissed me all over my face. This was my answer. This is who I was.

"Are you all right, baby?" 

"Yes," I said softly. "I love you."

"I love you too," she said. "Now let's get you out of this bathroom. Before you get all pruned up."

I held up my hands. "Too late."

She patted me dry and dressed me like a child. In minutes I was back as the innocent teen. The clothes helped.

Back in the hallway, I asked, "Where are Matt and Jimmy?"

"Off to get some food for us. You gave them as much to think about as you took from them."

Not enough. "How was your trip?"

"Good. Done. I - I'm glad you got what you needed." 

I hugged her again.

"Come on. We've got a lot of work left if we're going to finish this before you leave tomorrow."

It took a couple of hours, and food, for me to get my head back in the game. It took a couple more hours for us to realize this wasn't going to be as simple as we thought - there were simply too many little things left. A couple more hours after that, bleary-eyed and well after midnight, all four of us stood in the basement taping up the last few boxes.

"Go," Matt said. "You two - get out of here."

"No," Jess said. "We're going to finish moving these boxes upstairs."

"Jimmy and I can do that. You two go home. Sleep. Take her to the airport tomorrow. You don't need to stay for this."

"Thanks, Matt, Jimmy," I said. I trudged wearily up the stairs with Jess behind me at every step. She let me doze in the car on the way to her place.

Upstairs she brought me a glass of wine on the sofa and started making a simple meal out of bread, cheese, and some sandwich meat. The last time we were here, two nights ago, that sensual romp - the evidence was all around us. That tiny red thong was twisted up at my feet. It made me feel warm, loved. It had only been a handful of days.

I watched her move around her small kitchen - so graceful, so elegant. The touches were subtle, almost invisible - the shape of the eye, the tilt of the nose, the sleekness of her jaw. Jess, young and beautiful to me, was a vision. She set the plate of food on my lap and slid in beside me. 

We ate a few bites in silence, then the plate was empty. Then the glass was empty.

"Come on, love," she said, and pulled me to my feet.

I almost tripped over our dresses on the way to the bathroom. I laughed. She laughed.

"I think it's going to be the most fun I ever have cleaning, when I get around to cleaning this up."

She threw her arms around me and kissed me, then stepped back again. She pulled off her shirt, then her bra, her small breasts bouncing as she did so. One of us peed while the other brushed her teeth, then we switched.

Jess fell back on the bed, naked, and teased her nipples until they swelled and stood erect. "What's wrong, baby? You - you don't like any of this? You don't want to join me?"

"No, Jess, you're beyond gorgeous. And I want to - but I'm, I'm past drained. Past sore. I know things are going to change tomorrow, and I want to make the most of this ... last night, like this, but I just can't."

"Oh, baby." She hopped back up and helped my undress. When I shivered, she put her arms around me. "Come to bed." She cradled me, caressed me. "Things aren't going to change so much tomorrow. Not in any real way. I'll still ... be here, for you."

"Don't say that. Not yet. I have to go a long way and it might be a long time."

"Don't kill tomorrow before it comes. Trust me, and have a little faith in yourself. You'll fuck your freshman roommate and the boy across the hall, but it's me you'll come back to." She kissed me on the lips. "You want to make the most of tonight? Lie on your back."

She slid away from me as I did so. I heard her fumble in her tiny nightstand, then reappear above me with a silver, cigar-shaped wand. She twisted something on the body and it buzzed to life.

"What is-"

"Shhhh," she said. "Lie back. Just relax."

She started between my breasts, on my sternum. I felt the tiny little vibrations echo across my chess, melting away my frustrations, my worries. She slowly rolled it across one nipple and I felt - desire? Effortless pleasure? She did the other nipple and I actually moaned. She started slipping it down my belly. I felt the vibrations emanate from within me, getting closer, and closer to - she pulled it away. I squirmed and felt a stretching soreness.

Above me she slipped a hand between her legs. I saw a flash of deep pink where she parted herself. "Fuck, I got wet fast." She stuck her nipple in my mouth before I could answer. "Suck it, please Harri." 

I felt her slide the still toy between my legs, right along my slit, hard against my little clitty. She climbed over me, pressed her pussy to mine with only the silver cigar between us. I felt her wet skin cover mine and that little strip of hair creep past the toy. She reached behind her, I felt a twist and -

Wave of automatic pleasure cascaded over us, overwhelmed us, froze us. We strained fast against each other then one of us, I don't know which, managed to move just the tiniest bit. We were off, bucking and sliding over each other, and that vibrator was - only in the way. Jess must have agreed. She yanked it from between us and threw it against the wall, where it died, popping apart with batteries falling to the floor. Her fingers were in my pussy, mine were buried in her molten heat. I sucked her nipples, she licked my ears. Her tongue was in my mouth when, shaking beneath her, I started to come. She started shaking and, between my fingers and her clit, I felt a squirt of hot oil on my palm. I rubbed back into her and set her off all over again, not stopping until she bit my shoulder.

She rolled off of me, panting. "That's, that's never happened before."

I laughed. "Join the club."

She rolled back and we intermingled our thighs, rubbing more, but after not much she said, "You're right. It's time to stop. Let's go to sleep, love."

The morning arrived all too quickly with the butterflies in my stomach. I futzed around the bathroom doing little things, collecting anything dirty and anything that came from Aunt Cathy's into the suitcase we'd been using. I was nervous and fidgety the whole way up to the airport, even with Jess holding my hand. I didn't want her coming in with me, didn't think I could handle it. We kissed goodbye in the car. I called her as soon as I landed.

"Harvard won't know what hit them," she said. "I can't wait to visit."

I week later I started college, a week in which I bought a new wardrobe, apologized to my dad for the past year, apologized and subsequently seduced Marrie, the fucking slut bitch next door, a week in which I began introducing myself to everyone as Harri. A week after that I got my split from the proceeds of Aunt Cathy's estate sale. Part of mine went right into a plane ticket.