[Trucker28]

Rylie

Brandon started plowing through the tops he had thrown from Sara’s closet to her bed. I could tell Sara was pissed. She was still completely nude while Emma and I at least had skirts. I found it funny how he teased her and how she got more upset each time. I was getting used to being naked in front of him. I liked the way he looked at me. I was hoping he would go down on me again. Our time in his parents bed had been cut too short.

He found a tiny thin white tank top with spaghetti straps and held it up to Sara, then Emma, then me. I laughed. I couldn’t count how many sizes too small it was.

“Let’s try it on,” Brandon suggested.

“Seriously?” I replied, reaching for the top.

He pulled it away, “Arms up,” he said.

I lifted my arms over my head. It reminded me of being dressed by my parents when I was little. He brought the top down over my head. His fingers lightly grazing my under arms all the way to down the sides of my chest to my waste. I’m normally very ticklish but I was proud that I didn’t even squirm. His touch electrified my skin.
The white material was stretched to its limit over my boobs. His hands caressed me, he drug his thumbs over my nipples causing them to harden and push more against the tight fabric. He put his hands under my boobs and bounced them up and down, confirming the complete lack of support.

“Sorry Sara,” he sounded dramatically apologetic, “You may not be able to wear this stretched out shirt again.”

When he finally stopped exploring my breast I turned to the mirror. The top clung to my boobs like a wet shirt. Through the thin material I could even slightly make out my red areolas surrounding my hard nipples. Being naked in front of Sara’s hot brother was thrilling, even exhilarating. Could I really be in public like this? A practically see through shirt with no support.

Next he picked up light blue, open side, tank top with writing on the front. It said, “Dancers Turn Out Better!”

Brandon stepped up to Sara. “Arms up,” he instructed. He quickly pulled it over her, not lingering against her skin like he did to me. The top was loose and fabric was much thicker but the sides were completely open.

“Brandon, I have to have a sports bra or even a tank to under this,” she pleaded.

Brandon grabbed both sides pulling them together at her stomach and held them with one hand. This caused the whole top to collapse between her small breasts. “I think it’s perfect,” he stated.

He let go, the entire front stayed between her breasts. Sara immediately pulled the material back over her exposed boobs.

Brandon grabbed Sara’s cut off shorts from the bed and headed towards the bedroom door. “I think I have the perfect shirt for Emma,” he said as he turned down the hall.

Sara and I stared at each other wondering if we were supposed to follow. Emma, like a little lost puppy, was already at his heels.

“Is he really going to make us go in public like this?” I asked his sister in a whisper.

She looked as scared as I felt. “We could refuse but he has a lot of pictures of us.” She paused a second, “Even more with all your Harry Potter suggestions.”

“I’m sorry… I guess a few people in public is better than our whole school?” I meant it as a statement but is sounded like a question.

“In here girls!” he shouted. We scrambled for the door.

Emma was already wearing a t-shirt with our school name. The colors went well with the skirt. It was very big on her and completely covered her. I was surprised that it wasn’t at all revealing. Brandon began caressing her small breasts like he had done mine. Well, kind of, he couldn’t make them bounce. He did make her nipples hard and held the loose shirt tight against them.

“Arms up,” he demanded, and then stripped the shirt back off her. She instinctively brought her arms down across her chest, covering her hard pink nipples. “No, keep them up, I’ll just be a minute.”

She nervously raised her arms up above her head, like she was being held at gun point. He walked to his desk and brought out a pair of scissors and began cutting the shirt. I felt bad for Emma. Normally her boobs were tiny at best, with her arms up her chest was flat as a pancake. Actually, pancakes are pretty thick, flat as a tortilla would be a better description.

It was more than a minute, closer to five as he carefully cut the shirt in a straight line occasionally looking up to smile at his topless model. She was shaking a little; I knew this was her worst nightmare. He came back to Emma and slowly brought the newly tailored half shirt over her arms and head. Finally, she was allowed to lower her arms. The shirt came down barely covering her breasts.

“I love how this shows off your tight stomach,” Brandon said, rubbing his hand across her belly. He took her hands in his. “Can you lift your arms again for me?” he asked sweetly, his eyes were penetrating into hers.

He brought her hands up in his above her head. The half shirt raised itself above her stiff rosy nipples. His fingertips traced a path back down her arms. From three feet away I could see goose bumps radiating from his touch. His hands traveled back up and slowly brought her arms back down. The shirt caught on her left nipple but made it past the right. She stood there smiling, staring dreamily at Brandon. I don’t think she knew that one nipple was still exposed.

Brandon gave her a quick peck on the cheek. Quickly he turned to us. “So, how’s every one feeling about their outfits?” he asked, looking Sara up and down.

“Are you kidding!” Sara said, exasperated, “Can I please put on my shorts?”

“What’s wrong? Your tiny beaver getting a little cold?” he asked.

Sara just glared at him with daggers in her eyes.

“Rylie,” he asked, “Can you give her pussy little rub until I finish with her shorts? Maybe that will keep it warm.”

He waited as I stepped up to Sara and nervously slid my fingers and palm down across her lightning bolt pubes. I wasn’t nervous when I had to shave her. First, it wasn’t sexual, shaving her pubic hair. Second, we didn’t have an audience with Emma and Brandon watching.

I was shocked she didn’t hesitate or protest as she spread her legs a little allowing me in. Sara wasn’t wet but she was sticky; I recognized it as how I felt after masturbating. I rubbed my fingers back and forth across her slit and tried to gently push my middle finger in her. I don’t think she was expecting that. She gave a little gasp and her eyes got wide. Still, she didn’t stop me. Her slit was getting warmer and wetter as I gently pressed against her. We were looking in each other’s eyes and her breath started to get raspy. I stepped closer, my other hand wrapped around her small hip and grabbed her firm butt. I pulled closer, my boobs pressed against hers. I had the desire to touch myself also, but held back. She wrapped her arms around me. Her head was against my neck. I had never really touched anyone like I was touching her. My wet fingers skated up out of her folds and gently circled her now hard clit.

That is how I liked to get off, circling and teasing my clit. She, on the other hand, grabbed my wrist and forced me back lower. My middle and ring finger curled inside her hot tunnel. Her wetness was dripping down the back of my hand. Sara’s hand was still wrapped around my wrist and she started jerking me harder and faster. Like she was using my hand to masturbate with. I let her go at it. Keeping my fingers curled and my palm hard against her stiff clit.

Eventually, she let out a low moan and squeezed my whole hand tight with her thighs. Her walls were pulsating around my fingers. Her little body was shaking against mine. I was in shock that I had made another girl cum.

“Wow,” Brandon whispered, “That was hot!” I hadn’t noticed Brandon was kneeling next to us. He had the shorts held open for her to step in.

I was disappointed we had to stop. When was my turn? Sara was completely out of it. I tried to step back but she didn’t let go right away and she was so, so, wet. Her tan skin was glistening with sweat. The open side shirt had collapsed in the middle and the tops of her lighter skinned breast were flushed pink. I drew my dripping wet hand from her crotch and put both hands under her arms as she was wobbly on her feet.

Using her shoulders I turned the disordered and drained Sara towards her brother. Emma rushed forward sliding under Sara’s arm to help give her support. Brandon lifted one foot at a time with no help from his sister then slid the shorts up over her round little butt, zipping and fastening the top button.

I gestured to the bed and Emma and I turned Sara and flopped her backwards in the sheet less mattress. Her eyes were still closed and she was still breathing heavy. As least she was breathing. I thought I had killed her.

Also on the bed was a pile of scraps of blue denim. That’s when I noticed what he had done to the shorts. All that was left were about the size of boy shorts underwear. The sides were cut so high up the pockets stuck out covering more of her legs than shorts. I imagined the back would show as much of her butt as possible. The worst was the crotch, nothing more than the seam of the denim. Her soaked, wet vagina was staring up at us with maybe a half inch wide blue stripe down the middle.