Sam

by Pixy

 

Sam lay naked on the bed. The rest of the house was quiet. His parents had gone to bed an hour ago, and his sister was at University. With growing excitement, he dragged his schoolbag closer and opened it.

Earlier that evening, he had been at a friend's house playing on his X box. During the nights gaming, he had come across a Freeman's clothing catalogue in the living room. Out of curiosity, he had opened it. Straight to the underwear section. Faced with the surprising sight of so much naked flesh he had been momentarily stunned. Sam recovered quickly and managed to secrete the catalogue into his bag. His mind on the unexpected prize, he had lost badly on the computer. Eventually he gave in to the inevitable, made his excuses and left.

Sam had resisted the temptation to look at it until now. His young cock was positively throbbing in anticipation as he withdrew the publication. It was only a few weeks ago that he had started wanking. It was as if eating Pringles, once he had started; there was no way on earth he was going to stop.

When he had first started getting erections, he had been embarrassed and frustrated at the inconvenience the bulge created in his trousers. It was only listening by chance to some older boys, that he learned that there was a way to relieve the pressure. That night he had tried what they were talking about on his own manhood. At first, he was unsure what the fuss was about, as stroking had little effect. After a bit of experimentation, he discovered that by pulling back the skin at the end of his nob, he could induce a feeling of expectancy and mild pleasure. Somewhat let down by the anti climax of it all, he had been about to stop, when the feeling started to get stronger and a pleasant tingle started at the tip of his bell end. His interest refreshed he had carried on. The sensation got greater, stronger, his hand movements faster. The warm glow at his tip got hotter and began to spread down the underside of his nob. The sensations coursing through his cock were the most intensive he had ever felt. As the pleasure built, his cock began to twitch on its own accord. Pure pleasure spread from under his ball sack, racing up his nob. Gasping his hand motions stopped, his nob twitched mightily, convulsions running up its length. The end of his nob seemed to explode and jets of thick, sticky cum exploded to land on his neck and chest. Stunned, he had lain on his bed, cum dripping down off his neck onto the bed. Eventually he got up, using his pants to mop up the not inconsiderable amount of cum over him.

Since then, he had not looked back in his newfound quest, to find the bigger, better orgasm.

With anticipation that was almost making him come, he opened the catalogue. Everywhere he looked, there were beautiful women. Within minutes, he was ready to blow. Looking at the women in eveningwear was too much, and he happily succumbed to his orgasm. Reaching over, he retrieved the toilet roll that was now ever present, and wiped up his cum. He paused to take a drink from his bottle of pop, and then went back to perusing the catalogue pages. The sexual tension released, he skipped to the lingerie pages. Within seconds of looking at the first pages, he could feel his loins starting to stir. Unconsciously, his left hand started to stroke his cock as his right turned the pages. He could not believe the amount of curvaceous pink flesh that was displayed for his pleasure. The models seemed so perfect, unblemished by the stress of reality. Sam began to superimpose the faces of girls he new over the models faces. In no time, at all he was reaching for the toilet role.

Resting he wondered if he could make it three times. Never one to let a challenge go he lifted up the catalogue again. Looking for something different, he leafed through the pages until he came to the teen's section. Laughing, he realised that one of the girls in his class wore some of the items on a regular basis. Curious he skipped to the girl's underwear section and tried to work out what underwear she might have. One thing that he noticed was that the girls had smaller breasts by a long shot and that instead of having lacy front panels they tended just to have all cotton fronts. This was a bit of a let down, as there was no glimpse of hair as revealed by the more adult clothing. Enough was exposed to bring him to the brink, and the mental picture of his classmate standing in front of him, dressed in the underwear shown, swung the balance.

Tossing the sodden toilet roll containing his third endeavour into the bin, he stashed the catalogue, turned off the lights and went to bed.

The next day he started to look at women in a new light. Trying to picture them as models in the catalogue. Seeing, in his minds eye, similarities in the cut and design of the clothing. Looking at the pictures had also improved his mind in other ways. Previously, he had known clothes as just clothes. Now he knew that each type of item had its own type name. No longer was a top a top, was it a jersey top, or a halter neck, or a tank top, or a lace-up, the list was endless.

During the bus ride to school, he tried to work out what the women and girls on the street might be wearing under their clothes. What type of bras and knickers they wore. Were they a matched set or separates? Was that girl with the short skirt wearing tights or stockings?

Before he knew it the bus was pulling into the school playground. It had seemed like he had been on the bus for only minutes instead of the usual half hour. During the day, he amused himself by picturing some of the more physically advanced girls, in some of the lingerie that he had seen. So enthralling was this new pastime, that he was forced to go to the toilets at dinnertime for a wank. Again at afternoon break. The bus ride home was just as enjoyable.

Again, that night he availed himself of the catalogue. For the next few days, life had definitely taken a turn for the better.

Like all things in life it was not to last. Sam had studied the catalogue with such intensity, that it no longer had the same level of buzz. It was taking longer to reach orgasm, and the orgasm was not as intense. He needed a new sensory injection, but what? He had no access to another catalogue. He lay on his bed idly flicking through the lingerie pages. His gaze fell to a picture of a brunet, who seemed to be wearing an item of lingerie, which consisted of more straps than was right for it. He flicked his eyes to the description. Basque. Very nice, just like the young women that was modelling it.

Lying back on his bed, he let his eyes wander the room. They came to rest on a family portrait on his bookshelf. His imagination away with the fairies, he wondered what his sister wore, underwear wise. He lay there for a minute more, thinking, and then looked back at the catalogue. What did she wear? The thought reverberated around his head. The more he thought about it, the more he was curious to know. Desire also started to course through him, taking root in his cock.

Why should he not go to her room and find out? The thought hit him like a sledgehammer. No, he could not. Why not? His subconscious niggled. Fired with the danger and excitement he arose off the bed and hastily donned some clothes.

It was still early in the night and his parents were still down stairs watching the telly. As quietly as he could, he moved across the landing to his sister's room. Holding his breath, he slowly turned the door handle. With movement downstairs nil, he slipped into her room.

Turning on the light, he noticed that the room was barer than he was expecting. Then, he rationalised, most of her kit would be at uni. He hoped that she had not taken all her clothes with her. Tiptoeing, he crept to her chest of drawers. He paused, not believing that he was doing this. The adrenaline rushing around his body was causing his heart to beat painfully against his chest.

He slowly, almost reverently slid the top-drawer open. And was some what let down when it was revealed to be empty. Pushing the drawer back in he tried the next one. Bingo!

Although it was, half-empty it at least contained some socks and pants. Sam gazed down at the lingerie contained within. Almost to scared to move, he slowly reached a hand into the drawer and picked out some knickers at random.

The first thing he noticed was the feel. They did not feel as rough as his cotton pants. In addition, there appeared to be a lot less fabric used. He turned the panties over in his hands, studying them curiously. They were plain blue with lace around the edges with a strip of cotton between the legs. A black bundle caught his eye. Replacing the blue pair, he lifted out the black pair. Again, they were soft to the touch. Where the last pair had been plain fabric, this pair was mostly lace and there was not much of that. He spotted the label, and held the panties by where he thought the hips would press against the sides. The front -well it was opposite the label- was just a patch of lace that started about a hand span in width and grew narrower until it was only about a thumbs width at the bottom. It stayed that width on the journey back up to the label, only growing wider by a triangular inch just as it reached the label. They looked the most uncomfortable pants ever in Sam's eyes. He put them back and carried on looking.

He had just picked out a very feminine looking pink pair, when he heard movement downstairs. Startled into the verge of panic, he hastily shut the drawer and left the room, only just remembering to turn off the lights as he left. Safely ensconced in his room he let out a sigh of relief, then realised he was still holding the pink panties.

He listened carefully to make sure the coast was clear then laid the panties out on the bed. Like the last pair, they were silkily smooth to the touch, with a predominant amount of lace at the sides and along the front. Unlike the last pair however, they had considerably more material, yet still less than that of any pants he owned. They looked vaguely familiar somehow, so he looked in the catalogue.

The catalogue did not have a matching pair, but it did have a similar pair in white. Looking at the model closely, the patch of lace tantalisingly revealed, but just failed to expose the pubic hair that the model undoubtedly possessed. Had the pair been black, not white you would not have seen the dark shadow of the black hair against the lace. Sam wondered if you could see his sister's pubic hair against the lacy fabric. Just that mere idea was enough to give him an erection in need of attention. Hastily, he stripped naked and lay atop his bed, has hand gently stroking his pulsating shaft. In his minds eye he visualised his sister standing at the end of the bed wearing nothing but the panties. That was enough.

Over the next few nights, he had many an enjoyable wank with the aid of his sister's panties. As with the catalogue, the excitement soon started to fade. It was the weekend and he was bored. His sister was also back this weekend, so he could not swap the panties or look for something else. Therefore, he sat there on the edge of his bed, looking forlornly between the panties and the now very dog-eared and stale catalogue, wondering for the umpteenth time what the panties would look like filled with flesh.

In a flash of inspiration so simple, he wondered why he had never considered it before; the image of him wearing them crossed his mind. With hands shaking with suppressed excitement, he stripped off all his clothes. He went and stood in front of the mirror, naked but for the pink panties in his hand. With a shaky breath, he bent over and put his feet into the leg holes. Looking in the mirror, he slowly stood up, sliding the wispy material up his legs as he did so. The sensation was incredible, the materiel so soft, so friction less. He stopped just short of his genitals, pausing to look at his strange reflection in the mirror. He smiled and almost provocatively, slid the panties the last bit over his cock.

When the panties were finally in place, he looked again at his reflection. He watched as he slid both his hands across the lace covering his cock, watched as it started to become erect under the caress. Sam stood motionless but for his hands as he watched his hands in the reflection slowly masturbate himself. His orgasm was not long in coming, and the waves of pleasure were enough to buckle his knees.

Happy that a completely new avenue had just been opened to him, he climbed into bed and pulled the sheets up and over his body. Still wearing his sisters cum soaked pink panties he drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Sam woke refreshed after a good nights sleep. The panties had dried during the night and as he rolled over, he revelled in the feel of satin and lace. He lay there and wondered why boys clothes were not made to feel like this. Eventually, he got out of bed. He wandered over to his clothes drawer to pick out clothes for the day. As he removed a pair of his pants, he decided not to wear them and kept his sisters on instead.

As he walked around the room, he enjoyed the way his trousers glided over his satin covered bum and the way his trouser fly rubbed against the lace.

When he went downstairs for lunch, he looked at his sister and wondered if this was how she felt. What did she wear under her trousers? As he ate his lunch, his excitement continued to grow. With what was becoming a regular habit, he excused himself and dashed off to relieve the pressure.

His sister was hardly out the door, on her way back to Uni, before he was back in her room, raiding her panty drawer. With a bit more time and a bit more knowledge, he was starting to notice little things that he had missed before. Like the subtle, flowery, smell that pervaded the room. Even her underwear drawer had its on unique and pleasant fragrance.

Thanks to the catalogue, he was starting to differentiate between the various types of underwear. He now knew that the pair of panties that he had first picked up, that had seemed to consist of only straps and a small patch of fabric was called a thong. He had tried it on, but found that the materiel at the front, could not contain his tackle and having a strip of cloth between his arse cheeks was uncomfortable. There were many items of lingerie. He would have liked to try on many of them, but his sister did not seem to possess them or items similar to them. Basques, teddies, corsets, body's and the like were all tantalisingly out of reach. He could look but not touch, as it were.

What had started out as pleasurable was starting to become comforting. He was starting to enjoy the smell and feel of the clothes. Even just being in his sister's room was enjoyable. As the days past, Sam started to take more liberties. At first, it had been stealthy raids, which had become lingering forays. Now he changed and tried on her underwear in her room. If his parents went out for the night, he would slip on a pair of her pants and lie on her bed, smelling her essence in the bed sheets. The orgasms he had, lying on her bed in her panties, were among the strongest and most intense he had.

Sam longed to fall asleep and wake in her bed, but the fear of being caught was too great.

All too soon, he grew tired of the small collection in the drawer, and his searching expanded elsewhere. He had tried on some trousers and T-shirts but they did nothing for him. When he had tried on one of her dresses, he had felt more stupid than turned on. Bras just looked ungainly, so he had to content himself with her panties.

All said and done, it was still an enjoyable experience. One that he preferred over watching TV or playing on his mate's computer. In addition, he would have to make the most of it, as the school holidays would start soon and his sister would be back, denying him his newfound playground. It was this thought that was going through his mind one evening.

Sam had a couple of hours between the time he got home and the time his parents got home, to indulge in his fantasies. And he planned to make the most of it. He lay on her bed wearing the pink panties, now his favourite. One of her music C.D's played quietly in the background. One hand lightly stroked his hard on through the pink lace, his mind wondering what it would be like, for it to be someone else's.

"What on Earth are you doing?" The shock at the unexpected sound of his sister's voice caused him to jack-knife upright. So lost in his reverie, he had not heard the front door open and close.

Sam stared at his sister in the doorway, in utter abject horror.

"I. Well. Uh." Words failed him as he tried to find a plausible reason as to why he would be lying naked, but for a pair of her panties, on her bed. No reason was forthcoming. Filling with shame and complete terror, he fled the room. His sister stood to the side of the doorway, to let the fleeing boy escape.

Safely in his room, he removed the panties, got dressed into his normal clothes and burst into tears. As he lay on his bed, he tried to think of a way out of his predicament. His mother was going to go ballistic; his father was going to kill him. God knew what his sister was going to do.

When he heard his parents come home, he waited for the inevitable. And waited. And waited. He heard his mother call him down for tea, he called back that he was not hungry. Unable to face another human being, he lay sobbing on his bed.

All night he lay on his bed, feeling wretched, waiting for the clash that he knew was building. Nothing.

Eventually, late at night he heard footsteps on the stairs. Terrified, he leapt out of bed and switched the light off. Hoping that if he feigned sleep he could delay the inevitable, he pulled the duvet over his head. The footsteps did not go to his room. In the distance, he heard a door open and shut. Sam sighed in relief.

Sam must have dozed off, as a gentle knocking roused him. He ignored it in the hope that the knocker might leave. No such luck. The door opened, the room light came on and the door closed. Panic started to build as the footsteps approached his bed. Sam silently prayed for the visitor to leave.

His bed rustled and sank down as his visitor sat on the edge. Silence. The silence seemed to stretch forever until; finally, his visitor spoke.

"I know you're not asleep." The sound of his sister's voice sent a wave of fear through him. A period of silence followed. "I've not told mum or dad. Nor do I intend to." Another long stretch of silence. "You can look at me you know."

Sam sighed and gave in to the inevitable. He turned over and stuck his head out of the duvet. And almost died of shock.

His sister sitting on the edge of the bed was to be expected. What was not expected was what she was dressed in. His jaw, uncontrolled, dropped.

Sitting on the edge of the bed in an air of demureness, she wore a stone grey lace and silk chemise. The front was plain grey silk, which seemed to defy gravity and cling to her breasts. Her nipples protruded proudly from the silk sea. The lace ran round the top of her breasts and ran in a strip down her side. When the silk garment reached her waist, it split down her side. The split was laced along the edges in grey lace. The way she sat on the bed, caused the split to spread open. Visible under the lace was a matching set of stone grey panties. She wore no bra.

His eyes could not help but follow her form. Her legs were long, smooth and lightly tanned. Unconsciously his eyes travelled back up to rest at her groin. He could not help but wonder if the front of her panties were lace panelled or smooth silk.

"I have matching suspenders." She said coolly.

Sam looked back up at her face. Framed by her long brown hair, it was a face to die for. He swallowed and tried not to think too much about it, as he started to harden. She continued to look at him. Her green eyes had never seemed so bright, so obvious before.

"Will I see you at breakfast tomorrow?" As she spoke, Sam was fascinated by the movements of her lips. The way her tongue caressed her inner, cherry darkness.

Sam tried to reply, but only a primal grunt was forthcoming.

"Till tomorrow." With that she slowly, almost provocatively, rose from the side of the bed. His eyes followed every move, every ripple of silk as it glided over her body. With the grace of a ballet dancer, she stood and seemed to float over the floor to the door. The silk chemise floated around her body, but managed to cling momentarily to the curves of her body. As she walked under the light, the thin silk became transparent, her perfect silk clad panty cheeks, wonderfully and tantalisingly revealed. At the doorway, she paused and turned round. The diaphanous quality of the material, brought out by the light, revealed that her panties did indeed have a lace front. "Goodnight, Sam." With that she turned the light out and softly closed the door behind her.

Lying on his bed in the dark, he could not believe what had just happened. Dream or reality, his erection was real, as was the orgasm that soon followed.

The next morning found him in chirpier mood. As he walked into the kitchen, his sister was already sat down. His mother asked him if he felt better, he looked at his sister, she ignored him. "Yes" he replied.

As he tucked into breakfast, trying to sneak surreptitious glances at his sister as he did so, his mother prattled on. Sam only half listened, trying to figure out what his sister's game was. As his mother blathered on, she explained that his sister was back as term had ended early. When his mother left the room, he expected his sister to say something. Nothing. She just put her empty dishes in the dishwasher and left the room. Perplexed, he finished up and got ready for school.

All day he could not focus his mind on the schoolwork at hand. Everywhere he looked he saw the phantom image of his sister in the grey chemise and matching panties. He was looking forward to home time with equal amounts of trepidation and eagerness.

When he got home, he was almost bouncing with excitement. The thought foremost in his mind was, what his sibling would be wearing. The TV was on in the living room, as was she. To see her dressed in trousers and T-shirt was a great disappointment

"High sis." She looked round at his voice.

"Oh, high. How was school?" Sam was thrown somewhat by the question.

"Okay, I suppose." She nodded in reply then went back to watching the telly. Sam stood around waiting for something more. Nothing was forthcoming. Bewildered, he headed up the stairs to his room. Inside he abandoned his bag on the floor and sat on the edge of his bed. Confused at the whole situation. He considered sneaking into her room and stealing the chemise and panties, but discarded the notion straight way as foolhardy and asking for it. Though what 'it' would be, he had no idea or a desire to find out.

All through dinner, she was coolly distant, making polite conversation, but refusing to be drawn into prolonged conversation. The rest of the evening followed in a similar vein. Eventually giving up he retired to bed. As he lay in bed, he expectantly looked towards the door. It never opened. The next morning, more confused than ever, he went downstairs for breakfast. Again, she was coolly distant. At a loss, he gathered his school stuff and departed for school.

Lessons just seemed to drag and more than one teacher remarked on the absence of any form of attention. On the bus home, all women seemed to have his sister's face. He may not have been able to spell infatuation but he sure knew what it meant.

That night followed the same pattern as the night before. The sexual tension was driving him crazy. Again, he waited for her. Again, she never showed. He wanted her, wanted her so badly. It was Friday tomorrow and the end of term. He was not sure if he could stay in the house all day with sexual tension so strong. He was practically rubbing himself against objects, like a dog in heat, as it was. But what could he do, approach her? The image of him walking into her room and asking to wear her grey chemise, made him giggle hysterically.

The last day of term went like any other. It dragged. No work was done just the playing of games and other activities the teachers thought would 'be fun'. His mind was not on the games of kerplunk, connect four, bucking bronco and other such ilk that they brought out every final term day. As per the norm, the day finished early.

As he sat in the bus, he wondered if his sister would be home. Maybe she would be at the shops and any potential unpleasantness might be avoided. He thought about his situation again. Maybe he was ill and should see a doctor. No other boy that he new, had a desire to wear female clothing. On the other hand, if they did, they were as embarrassed about as he was. So wrapped up in his thoughts that he almost missed his stop.

Hastily he ran to the front before the driver could pull away. There was an Irn-Bru can lying on the pavement and he idly kicked it all the way from the bus stop to his front gate. The house appeared quiet but his hopes were dashed when he tried the front door and it opened.

Downstairs was quiet but he heard music emanating from his sisters room upstairs. Sam cursed to himself and footered around in the kitchen. He made himself a sandwich. Not because he was hungry. It was just something to do.

Swearing again, he grabbed the sandwich and headed up to his room. As he climbed the stairs, he expected his sister's door to open. Her music was not loud; she would have heard the door open and close. Nothing. He shrugged his shoulders as he walked past her room. He opened his door and froze.

Sitting innocently on the bed was a parcel. A pretty, neatly wrapped parcel. He stood in the doorway and stared at it. It did not move. Not that it was any consolidation. You could have placed a small bomb on the bed and it would have made less impact amongst the mess of the room. At that moment in time, Sam wished that it did indeed go tick.

Music still played from behind his sisters closed door.

Sam wanted to turn and leave. To run away, to hide. The parcel just sat there. Invading his life. Denying him his room. Taking a deep breath and summoning his courage, he stepped across the threshold. Nothing happened, the parcel did not move, the heavens did not collapse and a pit straight to hell- refused to open.

Sam shut the door behind him and walked over to the bed. He stood at the side of the bed and stared at it. There were pictures of flowers on the paper. It had a ribbon and bow.

It smelt.

It smelt awful.

It smelt…. Girly.

It had his sister written all over it. A pit opened in his stomach. He reached out with a hand to pick it up. His brain fought to connect with the rest of his body and eventually succeeded in reminding him that the hand still held a sandwich. He put the untouched sandwich on the bed next to the parcel. He moved his hand over to the parcel and prodded. It was solid.

Taking the parcel in both hands, he lifted it up. It was deceptively light. Part of him hoped that it was empty. Part of him hoped that it was not.

He walked over to the dresser and rummaged around the contents until he found his pocketknife. Opening the blade, he walked back to the bed, neatly sidestepping the toys strewn across the floor. With a growing sense of trepidation, he sat back down on the bed.

He looked at the package in his hands. He wondered if opening it was a good idea. Maybe he should not. He was in enough trouble as it was without complicating the matter.

He cut the ribbon. He could have undone the bow, but that would have offended his boyish and destructive mentality. He caught himself slicing the selotape, stopped, put the knife down and ripped the wrapper off.

Revealed in front of him was a plain grey box. He was not sure what he was expecting, but this was not it.

Sam opened the box.

And nearly died.

Neatly folded in front of him, the same colour as the box was lacy material. Without a doubt, it was underwear. Not just underwear but lingerie.

There was a matching small grey card on top, nestled in the middle. Sam picked it up and turned it over.

"Since you liked mine so much, I got you a set of your own." His sister's name was at the end.

Sam sat there, looking at the box, stunned.

Eventually he put the card on the bed beside him. He picked up the two straps in either hand and lifted them from the box. The chemise unfurled in front of him. It was the same as what his sister had worn when she had entered his room. There was hardly any weight to it and it seemed to move on its own invisible wind. He looked at the label. Pure silk. He had never touched silk before. It felt so soft to his touch. He was unaware of his raging hardon.

He looked back into the box. Two items remained. One was the matching panties. The other must be the matching suspender belt that she had hinted about.

He put the chemise back in the box and stood up. Something fell to the floor behind him. He looked behind and seeing what lay on the floor, groaned. He had only gone and sat on the sandwich. The contents of which were now spread over the duvet. He twisted and looked behind again. Bits of bread, butter and jam was spread over the seat of his trousers.

Sam reached for the roll of toilet roll and tried to clean as much of the mess off the bed as possible. All he succeeded in doing was rubbing it into the cloth. He gave up and settled for turning the duvet over. Satisfied that the problem was dealt with, he removed his trousers. The remains of the sandwich were well ground in. The only option would be the washing machine. He discarded the trousers on the floor.

He stopped, half-naked and looked at the box and its contents. For the first time that night, he became aware of his erection. It would not take much to swap his pants for the grey pair in the box. He tried to the resist the thought. Like a seed, once the thought was planted, it grew. He tried to fight it.

He lost.

He reached into the box and lifted out the panties. On closer inspection, they were not the same as the pair his sister had worn. They lacked the lace panel at the front that his sisters had. The edges were still grey lace. Like the chemise, the majority of the material was grey lace. The material felt incredibly soft. When the silk was rubbed against itself, it glided past with almost no resistance. He had to try them on.

Sam almost tore his underpants off in his haste. As he pulled the panties up his legs, he almost came. He had never felt any thing like it in his life. He stood there, in the middle of his room revelling in the sensation. He had no idea how long he would have stood there had he not heard his sister's door open.

He panicked.

Hastily he looked around. Spying a clean pair of jeans, he leapt over to them. Frantically pulling them up his legs. He breathed a sigh of relief as he both fastened the button and his sister never walked in. Which, he reasoned was a good thing as the opened box and its contents were in plain view. Also plainly noticeable was the fact that there were only two items on display. Taking that as a warning, he shoved the box, its contents and the wrapping paper under the bed out of sight.

The reason for his sisters burst of life soon became apparent. His mother was home. She called up to him. Trying not to appear furtive or suspicious, he called back and made his way downstairs.

As he walked, Sam was acutely aware of the way the fabric of his jeans slid over his silk and lace panties. The way the front of his trousers glided over his crotch, made it feel as though he was being gently wanked. He considered going back upstairs to change.

As his mother put away the messages, she asked Sam and his sister how their day had been. Sam, as ever, was non-committal. His sister, as usual, went into full verbal flow. Leaving them to it, Sam headed back upstairs.

Safely in his room, Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He could still hear his sister nattering away downstairs. His erection was uncomfortable and he stuck his hand down the front of his trousers in an attempt to rearrange its position. Sam could not help stroking himself through the silk. Sam was aware that the only relief possible would be to cum. With so many close shaves, he decided to do it in the toilet. That way he could lock the door and prevent any accidental interruption. On a spur of the moment decision, he picked up the chemise as well. Furtively he darted to the toilet.

Inside, with the door securely locked he breathed a sigh of relief. Hastily he removed his trousers and t-shirt. With increasing excitement, he picked the chemise off the floor and allowed the material to glide down over his body. Sam looked up and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was surprised to see that he looked as feminine as he felt. His mind pictured his sister clad in a similar fashion. It superimposed her face over his. A wave of pleasure unexpectedly ran through him. His cock spasmed, without external manipulation. Sam realised that he was close to cuming and he was still to touch his erection.

Sam ran his palms over his breasts, pretending they were larger like his sisters. His hands travelled down over the silk, passing his waist. He stroked his erection through the silk of both chemise and pants. He felt himself start to cum. In haste, he quickly freed his cock and ejaculated straight into the sink. Sam struggled against the pleasure, to keep his knees straight. As the final drops dripped from his tip, he leant over and tore some toilet roll from the holder. Carefully moping up all traces of his fluid, he tucked his now flaccid cock back into the panties. Mournfully he removed the chemise, but decided to keep the pants on. Slipping his trousers back on, he flushed the toilet and collected the bundle of grey silk from the floor.

Checking that the coast was clear, Sam quickly unlocked the door and darted into his room. Stashing the chemise back under the bed, he lay atop the duvet and reflected on the activities and sensations of the previous ten minutes.

The remainder of the evening passed uneventfully.

The next morning, after an exceptionally good nights sleep, he was woken by his mother. "Your dad and I are off to the shops. We will be there most of the day. Do you wish to come?" Sam declined. "Okay, I have told Jackie where there is food in fridge that you can use for lunch. We should be back for tea. Behave yourselves, no squabbling."

"Yes mum" Sam watched her depart.

He lay in bed, but was not tired. Slipping out of bed, he went in search of cleanish clothes. Sam could not resist slipping on the grey pants. Managing to resist putting the chemise on, he drew on his jeans and a top. Peckish as ever, he made his way to the kitchen. Pouring some cereal, he considered the plan of the day. Deciding that festering in front of the TV was a sound idea, he made his way to the box.

The house was surprisingly quiet. He had expected his sister to either go with his parents or at least be floating around the house. Not bothered, he settled down to watch the cartoons. An hour later, his sister walked into the room. Sam flicked his gaze her way. Dressed in a conservative dressing gown that was securely fastened, she sat down to watch the cartoons as well. After a minute, Sam was acutely aware that her attention was no longer focused on the telly. It had drifted towards him. He tried to ignore it, but she continued to stare at him. He wanted to say something, but knew of nothing.

A cold shiver ran down his spine. He tried to resist the urge, but the more he tried, the harder it became. He glanced quickly her way, then back to the screen. Out the corner of his eye, he watched her watching him. He glanced quickly her way again. Still she did not look away. He was becoming unsettled. Eventually he could stand her scrutiny no more.

"What are you staring at me for?"

She did not answer, just continued to look at him. He was about to repeat the question when she finally spoke.

"You are still wearing those pants aren't you" It was phrased as a statement not a question. Sam's mouth opened and closed in horror like that of a fish. "You can not wear them all the time. You have to wash them at some point."

Sams brain engaged denial mode "Who said that I was wearing them?"

She tilted her head to the side fractionally before she spoke "The lingerie was packed in a box with scented beads. I can smell the scent of the beads on you. If I am wrong, prove it by showing me the waist band of your underwear."

Sam was caught he knew it. What hurt more was that he knew that she knew it. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

"What do you want?" His brain was now engaging panic mode.

With a calmness that was starting to terrify Sam, she tilted her head slightly the other way. "I want nothing. It's you that's wearing woman's underwear."

"Why are doing this?"

"Why?" She shrugged "Maybe I like to look at boys in woman's underwear, or maybe I think you look cute in lingerie. Maybe the power of control excites me. Alternatively, it could be good old-fashioned maliciousness. What do you think?"

Sam frantically tried to think of a way he could turn the conversation round. At least steer it in a more favourable direction. "I…" Sam knew a lost cause when he saw one. This could not get more lost and still be on the same planet.

She went back to her earlier train of questioning. "What did you plan to wear when you put those pants in the wash? You are going to wash them aren't you?" Sam nodded in misery "Were you going to wear a pair of your own boy's pants, or do you have another pair of mine in your room?" Sam hastily shook his head "So what were you going to wear?" Sam mimicked a fish again. "Do you wear the chemise Sam?"

Sam's voice came out in a croak "No"

Jackie was visibly surprised "No? Is it not to your taste?"

"No. Not enough privacy."

"What? Worried about being caught?" She smiled at him.

"Something like that."

"Do you wish to wear it now?" She looked at him intently.

Sam lowered his head in shame. A shadow fell across him. He looked up. His sister stood in front of him. She reached out and tenderly grasped his hand. "Come" She stepped back, he rose to follow her. Gently but firmly she led him out of the room and up the stairs.

She led him not to his room, as he was expecting, but to hers. She led him over to her chest of drawers.

"You can borrow my pair while yours are in the wash." She handed him the silk and lace panel panties.

"I... I can't wear just these around the house!"

"You won't be. You will have the chemise on as well, wont you?"

"What happens if some one comes in?"

"Sam, people normally ring the doorbell first, then wait for the door to be answered. Mum and dad will not be back until later. Now go and change, go, shoo" She gently ushered him out "And don't forget to bring back your pair so they can be washed."

Sam walked back to his room on autopilot.

Back once again in his room, he sat on the edge of his bed and pondered the situation. On his lap, his hands played with the fabric of his sisters pants. Turning the fabric repeatedly over and over. Feeling pressured into a situation far from his control but not from his desire, he stood. With shaking hands, he unbuttoned his trousers. Pulling them down, he stepped out of them, and then removed his t-shirt. Clad only in the grey pants he retrieved then donned the matching grey silk chemise. As the silk fluttered past his waist, he pulled down the pants. They were starting to smell as though they were in dire need of a wash. He took hold of his sister's pair and stepped into the leg holes.

Sam went over and stood in front of his mirror. Curious he lifted the hem of the chemise to get a clear view of the pants. The pants were slightly smaller than his pair, the fit tighter. The front lace panel pulled tight against his cock. The sensation of the lace was one that he could not work out. He was not sure if it felt uncomfortable or pleasant. He allowed the hem to drop free.

Picking up his own dirty pair, he headed for his sisters room. Pausing at her door and feeling foolish for wearing only attire of an intimate female nature. He knocked.

"Come in Sam" Came his sister's melodious voice.

Eyes downcast, he opened the door and stepped into the room. His sister was sitting down at her dresser combing her hair. She turned round to look at him Sam looked at her. Clad only in a skimpy pair of white high cut briefs, she seemed totally impervious to the sate of her undress. Sam was not.

He tried hard not to look at her bare breasts, but his eyes would not obey his command. She did not so much rise as uncoil from the seat. Sam watched the fluid grace of her limbs. As she walked over to him, Sam was certain that she deliberately accentuated her movements. The deliberate slow pace of one foot in front of the other. The deliberate hip swing. Her hands at her side, made no move to conceal her breasts, or block his view of the junction between legs and body.

A little voice in the back of Sams mind pointed out to him, that if her pace were any slower she would start to go backwards.

As she approached, he could not help but feast his eyes on her breasts. Like the rest of her body, they were perfectly proportioned and firm. Not yet having suffered the full vagaries of age and diet. The edge of his vision took in other small details, like the flat stomach and firm, fatless thighs.

Sam was struck by a streak of envy so large and green that it could accommodate a football pitch. The knowledge that someone shared that body at university tore him up inside. That she would sleep alone or desire to was blatantly alien to her. Even Sam in his inexperience, could see that she was more than comfortable being naked in the presence of others. One quick look at her face showed that she was not only comfortable, but enjoyed it.

His envy did nothing to dampen his desire. His erection had fought free and was standing out proud. His sister's gaze did not even flicker from his face as she approached.

Sam desperately wanted to swallow, to lick his dry lips. The only part of his body- apart from his groin and eyes- that was working appeared to be his heart. His heart seemed determined to make up for the rest of his bodies inactivity. It painfully beat against his chest, and all he could her was its beat.

Jackie closed the distance, stopping only when her body lightly touched his. Sam became aware that the tip of his half-free cock was touching the bare skin of his sister. It was warm. She moved fractionally closer. Her bare nipples pressing lightly into his chest. Sam was all too sensitive to heat building up between them.

She slowly moved her head closer to his. Sam could make out every detail. The small flaws of her flesh only emphasised the overall beauty. Another streak of envy ran through his soul. Oh how he so desired to wake up in the morning, his head next to hers so that it was the first sight of the day to greet him.

Her mouth seemed to take over the role of her eyes. Sam could not feel its touch but he feel the passage of breath through her open lips. The passage of air traversed over one eye then the other. It explored both ears, his nose, his chin, yet the soft flesh of her lips never touched his skin. Her lips stopped opposite his. Sam's mouth opened, awaiting hers. He could feel the breath from her mouth enter his.

She lifted a hand containing his worn pants. Sam was not even aware of releasing the fabric from his grasp. She moved her head back, breaking the thin contact of air. She raised the fabric between their faces briefly, inhaling as she did so. She lowered the crumpled wad of grey silk.

"Thank you Sam. I will give you them back later when they are dry" She turned and headed back to the dresser to continue combing her hair.

Realising that the moment had passed and he had been dismissed, Sam stumbled from the room.

  

  

  

*********************************************
© 2004 by Pixy. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.