The parents were out and I thought I was home alone, up until I heard voices coming from my sister's room. I wasn't deliberately eavesdropping. My sister and her friend, Traci, were talking rather loudly, lamenting their current status.
Both my sister and Traci are what would be described as nubile young women. For those who don't know it, nubile means sexually mature and attractive. That certainly applied to both these young ladies. They were both eighteen, hot of body, fair of face, and ready for Mr Right. From what I was hearing Mr Wrong or Mr Goodenough were also in with a show, with the strong possibility that Mr Wrong had the front running.
Now where Debbie was concerned, being her brother made me Mr NoWayKnown, but I felt I'd make a fine Mr Wrong for Traci.
The status that these fine young girls were lamenting was their virginity. Not the loss of it, but the fact that they hadn't lost it. For various reasons any opportunities they'd had to rectify this matter had slipped past and they were wondering if they'd ever get laid.
So big brother sticks his nose into this potential hornet's nest. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, and I thought a chance at Traci was worth the effort.
"The reasons the pair of you are still modestly virginal," I drawled, leaning against the doorway and smirking at the girls, "is simple. Debbie is still a virgin because she's a demurely modest young woman who wouldn't dream of succumbing to a man's blandishments before she was married. However, you, Traci, are a virgin because you're shit scared of having a boy see you naked, let alone have him touch you. As for your seeing his cock, god forbid. You'd probably run away screaming."
Debbie gave me a classic sister-to-nasty-brother look of loathing. We both knew full well that the reason she was still a virgin was my fault. She'd worked hard to bring her boyfriend to the point where he was peeling off her panties despite her maidenly protests, ready to take her whether she agreed or not. Then I'd come home unexpectedly and caught them.
With Debbie saying, "No, no, no," quite loudly to prove her unwillingness, her boyfriend, Billy, had panicked when I walked in. He'd departed via the window at great speed, breaking the flywire screen as he went out.
Debbie had been spitting chips. She was even more furious when I pointed out that if Billy hadn't been such a loser he'd have told me to piss off and continued to do the dirty. Still, she must have agreed with me, because she dumped him. You have to admit, if you get dumped for failing to rape a girl, you're a loser.
Traci was matching Debbie's dirty look.
"I am not, as you so quaintly put it, shit scared," she snapped. "It's just that I have high standards."
"Another way of having a ready-made excuse not to let a man see your precious bod," I said, smirking at her.
"I am quite prepared to let a man see me when I'm good and ready," Traci almost snarled at me. "I think it's only fair and reasonable to take a while to get to know someone."
"So why are you whining that you're still a virgin? You've had chances but backed off every time."
"How the hell would you know what chances I may or may not have had?" she demanded.
"Men talk," I said, spreading my hands to indicate what the hell do you think. "I heard what happened when a certain gentlemen whipped out his old fellow in front of you a few weeks back."
"I haven't," chirped Debbie, looking with interest at a blushing Traci. "What happened?"
"Never mind," Traci hastily replied. "I'll tell you later."
"Traci was out with Danny," I said. "First date and all that. Traci didn't know that Danny gets all amorous when he's had a few and his dates need to control how much he drinks. When they left the pub to go home Danny took Traci's hand and slapped his erection down on it, telling her to do something nice to it. She screamed and slapped it so hard it was a wonder she didn't knock it off. Some of the boys saw it. They thought it was hilarious."
Debbie was giggling and Traci was glaring at me.
"He was drunk and obnoxious," she said. "He deserved it."
"Not saying he didn't," I admitted, "but it was a chance for you to get laid."
"Pig's bum that was chance," growled Traci, demonstrating a fine command of colloquial English.
"But your immediate reaction does tend to bear up my point - you were shit scared."
I smiled benignly at her while she glowered back at me.
Currently Traci was wearing skin tight yoga pants and a tank top - also quite tight. I could see that she had a scrap of a bra on but I'm damned if I could see any evidence of panties under those yoga pants.
"Tell you what, seeing you're so brave and all. Show me what you've got."
I leaned comfortably against the wall, smirking enough to show I thought she wouldn't do it.
"You've got to be kidding," she scoffed at me.
"Not really," I said. "I can make the suggestion with a clear heart for two excellent reasons. Number one, Debbie is here to protect you from my baser instincts. Number two, you're shit-scared and won't do it anyway."
For a moment I thought she was going to slap me and I was getting ready to duck. Or run if that seemed more advisable. It's not that I'm a coward. It's just I see no up-side into getting into a brawl with a pretty girl.
Traci stood there, glowering at me. Instead of telling me to fuck off, which was what she should have done, she took hold of her top and started to lift it.
"Uh-uh," I chipped in quickly. "Wrong half."
"What? Do you expect me to take my pants down?"
"Not really," I said, still smirking away.
Traci looked at me, looked over to where Debbie was standing, giggling, and hooked her thumbs into the waist of her yoga pants. With one quick move she pushed them down, giving me a split second in which to see a miniscule pair of thong panties, and then pulled them back up into place, looking smug and vindicated.
I strolled over until I was standing right in front of her.
"You're kidding," I scoffed. "That's not showing anything and you know it. This is showing me what you've got."
I took hold of her yoga pants and started drawing them down, looking her in the eye and daring her to protest. She stood there, glaring at me, flicking some glances at Debbie, not saying a word, although I could see she wanted to say a whole bunch of them.
I took her pants down slowly, continuing to hold her gaze, and she never even noticed that the thong had joined her panties on the way down.
"Foot," I said quietly when I had the pants down around her ankle. She lifted one and I slipped the pants off her leg, waiting patiently for the other foot and then tossed the Yoga pants (and thong) over onto the bed.
"Satisfied?" she asked, putting an insolent note in her voice. I bet she wouldn't have sounded quite so insolent if she knew her thong was also off.
"Not yet," I said, placing a hand on her tummy and sliding it down. It wasn't until my hand started moving over her mons that it dawned on her she was missing more than just yoga pants. Her face glowed red and she threw a frantic look at the bed, spotting the scrap of black sitting there with her pants.
"You. . ." she said, words failing her.
I moved my hands back up, catching hold of her top and lifting it.
"Arms up," I murmured and she lifted them as though she was in a dream (or maybe a nightmare) and I lifted her top up and over her head, leaving her standing there in her bra.
"Debbie, bra," I said, and a laughing Debbie darted over behind Traci, unhooking the bra. I drew it down off her arms and it joined the rest of her things on the bed.
I pushed Traci's hands behind her back, casually holding her wrists in one hand, while I leaned back and admired her figure - her brightly blushing figure.
