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.