Weekend, Part 1. -Wednesday
Another bad day was drawing to a close. This was my Spring Break. This was my very first Spring Break since starting at the University. It was supposed to be a week-long party with my friends. Instead, my parents decided to paint the entire house and I was sent to stay with my sister, Michelle. I love my sister, but she is not the warm and welcoming type.
My parents are very strict people who believe in a philosophy of early curfews, firm bedtimes and absolute obedience to the rules. I was determined to get my degree, but unless I was willing to pay for it myself, I was expected to abide by those rules. My father was the law in my household and my mother was the enforcer. Every day, after my last class, I was required to come home and check in with both my parents before I could go out with my friends. If only one parent was not there, I had to wait for the other, and both of them knew my class schedule. My friends were allowed to come over, but there were so many rules imposed upon them during their stay, it was easy to forget one or two of them and then I was grounded. It wasn't usually worth it except during the weekends, which were a little more relaxed. My sister did a lot of rebelling when she was in her early teens, and I was paying the price for her freedom. To make things worse, when she finished her junior year of high school, she suddenly stopped rebelling and my parents philosophy became her religion. When I was informed that I would be staying with her for my entire vacation, I was devastated and miserable. I would be going from house arrest to Michelle's medium security prison of an apartment, but I knew better than to argue.
Michelle made it very clear from the moment I arrived that I was intruding on her life. She was even less thrilled about the arrangement than I was. She gave me a short, but thorough tour of the apartment. I was shown the couch where I would be sleeping. I was shown where I could get blankets and sheets and pillows. I was informed as to precisely what time those blankets and sheets and pillows should be back in their cupboards each morning. I was shown which towels were to be mine for the week. I was shown to the washer and dryer where I would be doing all my laundry at the end of the week, including sheets, pillowcases and towels. I was shown the front door, which I was never to use without letting my sister know precisely where I was going and how long I would be out. Since I had never before been to this city, and had nowhere to go that I could tell her about, I knew I would not be leaving the apartment. Finally, she showed me to one closed door. Her roommates shared that room. They were out of town for a few days and would be back late Thursday or early Friday. When they arrived, I was to keep out of their way and stay quiet. Until they arrived, I was not to go into their bedroom or even approach the door. I had no business in their room.
There were a few good things about staying with my sister. Michelle kept late hours, for one thing. She left early each night and never got back before 4 am. I may have been confined to the apartment, but I had the run of the place. My parents were not breathing over my shoulder every minute. She had a large collection of videotapes and I was allowed full access. Best of all, I had unlimited use of the phone, including long distance, so long as Michelle didn't need it. Michelle had been mistakenly sued for a huge amount of money by her long distance provider and as an apology, they had given her free long distance service for a year.
Still, after a few days, it was all starting to get old. I was feeling a bit stir crazy from being stuck in that apartment all the time. It wasn't much fun calling my friends either. When they were home at all, they were talking about all the parties I wasn't going to and the fun things I wasn't doing. It was a little depressing. By Wednesday, I was tense and frustrated and ready to do something crazy.
My sister was going out again. She would be gone all night again. While she was getting ready, I made up my mind to do something other than just sit around while she was gone. As she hopped into the shower, I shut off the movie and went into her room, looking for something that might better occupy my time that night. Boy, did I ever find it.
In just a few minutes, I learned more about my sister than all my 19 years had ever taught me. My sister, the conservative, uptight, unyielding bitch had drawers full of the sexiest, frilliest lingerie I had ever seen in my life. She had two closets full of hot, sexy clothes and accessories. She had a second, erotic, collection of videotapes. She had a great big box of sex toys. I was speechless. This was an incredible discovery. My sister was secretly cool.
The shower quit and I fled to the living room. I plopped on the couch and turned the movie back on. I would wait until she left and then explore properly. It seemed to take forever for her to get ready. She always insisted on looking perfect before leaving the apartment each evening. One movie ended and I popped in another. It was another inane romance. Boy meets Girl. Boy lies to Girl. Boy loses Girl. Stupid Girl forgives Stupid Boy. Happily Never After.
Michelle finally finished her preparations. She left without a word to me, which I took as a good sign. No warnings or threats or scoldings. She was evidently satisfied with my behaviour so far.
I'm ashamed to say that I ran to her room. I embarrassed myself with my eagerness, but I was that impatient. I did calm down enough to do a more thorough inspection of Michelle's room. Michelle had the master suite of the apartment. It had its own bathroom and his and hers closets. Michelle had filled one of those closets with cocktail dresses, sundresses, formal dresses, short, long and mini skirts, tops of every color and description. The wooden box of sex toys was in there too. The other closet had belts and scarves and ties and jewelry and shoes. Along the back wall was a series of shelves containing Michelle's second video collection. There were R-rated Playboy style videos, hardcore sex videos, and some extreme bondage stuff I was too intimidated to even touch. It was all organized neatly, each shelf labelled by category in Michelle's firm hand. On the floor of the closet was a large wooden box full of plastic, penis-shaped toys. Some of them spun and vibrated. It was all a little overwhelming.
I left the closets and examined the contents of her dresser. It was thrilling. Back home, I had a black lace thong stuffed behind my bookcase where my mother couldn't find it. Michelle had two drawers filled with thongs and crotchless panties and bras and G-strings of every colour ever seen. There were tiny straps and tissue-thin fabrics and cutouts and metal studs and things I wouldn't even know how to wear.
I quickly shucked off all my clothes and plunged in with both hands. I pulled out several flimsy bits of see-through fabric and tried each of them on. I have to admit, I looked damn good. I felt sexy and powerful. I felt more naked than I did when I wore nothing at all. The little strings riding up my butt made me totally aware of how exposed my ass was. In those bras, my boobs did not feel covered up, but on display. When I looked at myself in the mirror, it seemed that my whole body was begging to be stared at and touched. I felt so vulnerable, I had to turn off the lights and look at my reflection in the low light coming from the hallway. My face was burning with lust and shame.
I tried on several sets of underwear, but I had to stop before I got to them all. I was so totally aroused, I could feel the moisture seeping from between my legs. I didn't want to leave any telltale evidence on Michelle's things. I didn't really believe she would be sniffing her own panties to see if I had been in them, but I didn't want to take any chances. When we were kids, Michelle always knew when I had been playing with her toys, no matter how careful I was.
I reluctantly put away the lingerie and eagerly opened the closet full of clothes. I tried on a tiny, slutty and lowcut cocktail dress and slid the door closed so I could ogle myself in the full length mirror. I have to say it. I looked good! I looked damn good. All my curves were shown off to the best possible advantage. I liked the way my nipples could almost be seen through the thin fabric. I loved the way my ass looked in that skirt. I found myself wishing that some of my guy friends back home could see me here in this magnificent outfit. If my sister had been a little nicer, I would have asked her to take a few pictures.
I had taken off the first outfit and was trying to choose another when the front door suddnely opened. I must have jumped four feet. I almost screamed. If she caught me trying on her clothes, she'd kill me. If she even caught me in her room, I'd be sleeping on the balcony the rest of the week. There were footsteps coming toward the bedroom door. It wasn't even completely closed. I panicked and jumped in the closet to hide.
I was terrified. My heart was pounding and my head was swimming. My hands were shaking and I was breathing hard. My whole body was trembling. I felt like I was about to faint. The bedroom door opened and I heard more footsteps.
Then I heard a voice from the living room call in, "Emily, what are you doing? Why are you in Michelle's room?" It wasn't my sister, but her roommates.
A second voice, Emily's, I assume, answered. "Don't you remember? Michelle's sister is staying here this week. I'm sure she's sleeping in our room.
