Dear Clubhouse Letters: Amazing Lace.
A Step Into Unusual Perversions (for me that is)
By William Pratt
Hi, long time reader (thanks dad!), first time writer.
This story starts when my sister, Stephanie, and I got a package in the mail. It was too light a box for her text books, but Steph just sort of signed for it thinking it was a bunch of DVDs I’d ordered or something. No textbooks or DVDs were in the box, it was just a catalogue and some slightly trashy lingerie from a mail order company called Merlynne’s. It was probably for our place’s previous inhabitant, but it was simply marked “Occupant” so we had no clue who to forward it too. Plus it wasn’t the sort of thing you wore where the last tenant had gone.
As for the catalogue, it’s amazing. Merlynne’s sells beautiful stuff. It is a little on the trashy side, but you should really check it out when you get the chance. You won’t regret it and your SO’ll thank you.
We’d just moved in after the previous tenant got evicted in a rather spectacular manner. With the deal we got on the place, Steph and I figured the place had been used as a grow-op or something, but it turns out they guy had taken advantage of the proximity to a local high school and had been using it as a recruitment center for teen prostitution. Operating on an anonymous tip, the cops busted the place, stripped it for evidence, and pretty much trashed the place. It’s mostly refurnished now, but some of the rooms still look a little unfinished. One of the reasons Steph and I got such a good deal on the rent is that before mom died and dad really got on the sauce he and I did dry walling. It was a great summer job because it paid well, kept me active, and left my evenings open. For a cut in the rent I’ve been fixing the place back up.
Like I said, the place is right by a high school, but that’s not why we like it. Besides the price, it’s about a ten minute walk from the town center and descent shopping, and from there you can bus just about anywhere, like the college, for a couple bucks. It seems more expensive than living at home, but Steph tried to pay tuition last year and found out that dad drank his way through the college fund. Mom and dad set the account up when Steph and I were kids and we’d been feeding with summer jobs ever since. After dad cleaned us out we just couldn’t live with him anymore. Dad’s not a bad guy. His priorities have just been fucked up since mom died. Anyway, Mrs. Carter, our landlady, put aside her normal reservations about renting to unmarried mixed couples because we’re siblings. That was really nice of her and probably the biggest mistake she ever made in her life. Not that we mind too much or plan on telling her.
When I got home that evening, Steph showed me the box and curious, we opened it up. Steph went red when she saw the contents. Me, I got hard. At the top of the box was a catalogue, a very classy and flashy mail order book packed full of ladies and some guys in what was most definitely sexual play attire. What they called “Sleepwear” you didn’t really do any sleeping in unless you were alone and if you had the sort of body to carry off those clothes, you’d never be left alone. I didn’t get a look inside the catalogue until later, but the cover was of a heart-stoppingly beautiful blonde standing on a lit stage with her hair glittering as it arced around her lovely face, wearing filmy panties and a lacy white bra that looked about to fall off. Her blue eyes were electric and followed you around like a classical painting. Technically she was dressed, but practically she was the hottest, most incredibly fuckable thing I’d ever seen.
Steph, looking more beet than human, pulled the catalogue out of my hands, flipped it over, and put it on the table. The same blonde, now on a bed waiting for her lover in black and red, adorned the back. Steph caught me staring at the book again and dropped a psychology text on top of it. Then she reached into the box and gasped. She pulled out a bra just like the one from the back cover and giggled.
“The last tenant really was kinky,” she said, holding the bra out in front of her. “Nice pattern, but it’s sooo not me.”
I had to disagree, because when she held it in close my heart went thumpity thump. Sister or not, I’d have killed to have seen her in it. She had just the right sort of hair and eyes to pull it off. All she lacked was the chest. I laughed about it partly to hide my embarrassing thoughts, and we put it back in the box. Steph went back to her homework and when she wasn’t looking, I swiped the catalogue and disappeared to my room. The chesty blonde was by far the best looking model in the catalogue and really deserved the cover shots. The glossy coating on the cover also made it easy to clean up after the eventual accident.
Steph was doing the full-time student thing because she managed to net some equal access grants after dad cleaned us out, and I was working part-time in construction and taking evening classes three nights a week while waiting for my student loan to clear, so I was a wreck when I came home the next day. Half dead or not, I perked up when I saw Steph sitting at the table wearing the mail-order bra, and doing homework. I was right. It was worth killing to see her in it, but fortunately I’ve never had to test that theory. She looked over at me when I came in the door, then looked down and went red.
“Omigod! I forgot! It’s so comfortable,” she said, or something like that. That might have been true for her, but the lingerie made it really uncomfortable for me. I went rock hard in an instant and couldn’t stop staring.
Steph’s eyes locked on mine and she giggled. She turned in her chair and I swear it was to give me a better look. “It is!” she protested when I coughed. “Really comfortable. You should try it!”
Disturbingly horny or not, I had to laugh at that. Then I choked again. She lifted her glasses off her cute little button nose. That simple act fluffed out her hair and it seemed to tumble down in slow motion while a white toothed and perfect smile spread across her face. I followed the blond waves downwards and almost creamed myself when I saw what they landed on.
The red and black lacy number had half cups and shoulder straps that looked like they were more there to give a guy something to hold on to than for actual support. At first I thought my little sister had gotten implants, but it was just the bra. It looks a lot bigger than it really is and on Steph it makes her chest look absolutely massive. We’re talking serious push-up action here. Steph’s not that slight, but she looks stacked to the rafters in that bra. It’s still my favourite and absolutely lovely with her blond hair spilling over her shoulders and down onto her breasts.
Steph looked at me looking at her and I swear the embarrassed blush transformed and spread. In an instant she went from blushing girl to all woman. Her chest began to heave, and in that mail-order bra, it was something to behold.
“Chuck?” she groaned. I remember that much. And I think she said something else along with it, but I was too busy staring at her breasts moving up and down to listen. I watched her nipples stiffen and push out the red roses woven into the lacy black. It was like watching a flower blossom in 3D. It was unreal. I was two steps away from ripping what little my sister was wearing off, throwing her on the table, and screwing her brains out. But I didn’t because of what happened next.
I looked down. The same red-on-black flower motif adorned the panties she wore, and the flower bent and twisted as her fingers worked beneath it. I looked at her, she looked at me looking at her, and we stayed like that for a while.Her breathing grew visibly ragged and I didn’t care who she was anymore. I pulled her up out of that chair and kissed her with everything I had as she pressed into me. I wasn’t a virgin, but I’d never had a girl respond to me anything like it before. She felt like she was trying to get inside my skin.
After that it was just another sex scene you’ve read a dozen times before. Not for me and Steph of course, but if you wanted to read descriptions of that stuff you’d have a different magazine in your hands. Let me tell you though, waking up naked in bed with your lingerie-clad sister is a hell of a shock the first time. I tell you, with Steph it was worth repeating, so we did. A lot.
“I don’t know why I tried it on,” she said while I positioned myself to go inside her again. Her dainty hand held her completely drenched panties out of my way and I eased myself in. “I was bored, I guess. I was bored and it looked so sexy. I’ve never been sexy before and I just wondered what it would be like, so I tried it on for a few minutes. It felt great! Better than great! Then I looked in the mirror and before I knew it I had the CD player on and was dancing and having a one girl party. When I had to stop and do homework I couldn’t bear to cover it up because I...I don’t know why. I just couldn’t. I wanted to be seen in them.”
“But what about...?”
“Oh. I shaved that off. It just didn’t look right with the panties. I-I think I shaved it off. I must have at some point.” Obviously she must have. It’s not like pussy shaves itself.
I didn’t know it yet, but that was the end of Steph, the cute-but-shy college student and I’m seriously insulted that I didn’t piece it together before she practically dropped into my lap one night at a club. Once or twice a week, Steph would straggle in sometime in the middle of the night completely out of her mind with desire, wake me up, and we’d go at it like animals. Her money problems vanished, and she started dressing up for any occasion. Actually dressing down is more like it. We could just be going to grab fish and chips and she wouldn’t leave until every guy in the place was sporting a woodie and the better the response, the wilder the sex when we got back home.
One of the more telling examples of my idiocy in this clueless period of my life was at the dry cleaners. Merlynne’s has some very exacting treatment requirements on their higher end merchandise that could only be met with specialists, and to say that we abused the hell out of that first accidental delivery would be polite. Considering how much use and misuse the bra and especially the panties received, and how much we enjoyed delivering the abuse, we pampered them and followed the instructions to the letter. That’s what led to a conversation something like this with Mrs. Li: the best damn dry cleaner in town.
“You wife, she have interesting taste in clothes. You must be happy man.”
“Oh, no!” I stupidly protested. “No, those are my sister’s”
“Oh. You poor, poor man.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her what was really going on, but mister and missus Li are not stupid people. I realized much later that she could tell from the look on my face that I wasn’t a sad man. Maybe they’re a bit more open, or maybe Steph and I are customers, so the Lis don’t give a damn what we do in our spare time. World would be a nicer place with more people like the Lis.
The hammer dropped and shattered my illusions one night when a teacher got sick. Bad fish at dinner or something, so she cancelled her class at the last minute. With nothing better to do, I got talked into hitting a strip club with some of the other guys. I’d been nursing a serious breast fixation for a while now, and Abe had been going on about this wild chick doing the local circuit that had the most amazing breasts.
Sure enough, it was Steph, or Stephie as she liked to be called professionally. She’d bought a whole selection of Merlynne’s bras without my knowing about it, and tonight she had this white “Shy Virgin” riff that was absolutely mind blowing. She wasn’t much of a dancer, but that’s not what the audience wanted. Every man in the place was primed and ready to explode as soon as the shirt came off. She started low and worked upwards, teasing the demure skirt up to show off not so demure legs in stunning white nylon. In her free time, she’d started hitting the gym with a vengeance. Me and a roomful of perverts could tell you that it was worth it.
After the skirt went up, up and away and the tails on her blouse lent a swish-swish, now it’s here, now it isn’t sort of concealment. I had no idea that she’d gotten a tattoo, let alone the three she sported and promised myself to look at more than just her breasts in the future. I was completely shocked that I’d missed them, but maybe I was being unfair to myself. In all the times we’d made out, I’d never actually seen her completely naked. I thought it was some sort of mental block of hers. Like maybe getting completely naked for her brother was just a line she wouldn’t cross. That wasn’t the case at all. She just figured out fast that I found her infinitely sexier when she still had clothes on. The right kind of clothes that is. Red roses on black lace is the place to start.
Pop! went a button. I had no money worries about her destroying the blouse bit by bit. She’d already made enough money to cover its replacement and like a rocker trashing his guitar, it seemed to bring in another barrage of tips and howls of appreciation. It was one of those howls that brought her attention to me and after a moment her face lit up with recognition. The show smile became real and her eyes charged with blue lightning as another button spun across the stage and out into the audience.
She danced and spun now, still not very good at it technically, but she hadn’t done any dancing since ballet when she was like eight. And it has to be hard to dance when you just want to jump your brother and fuck. Anyone who looked could see the white lace between her legs darken and start to stick. Anyone who looked closely could see that she was staring right at me the whole time.
Whiz! A button bounced off Abe’s forehead. I swear she aimed that at me. Then came a crack as she slipped the ruined shirt off of her body and snapped it like a whip. She sauntered around on the stage making sure everyone got a good look, bouncing with the music and all I could think was “My god, she’s perfect.”
She’d let her hair grow out longer over the semester and now her golden mane ran down to just above her covered but plainly visible nipples even with the wavy perm. She spun, sending her hair up and around in a halo before bowing low to show off her cleavage. She met my eye again and kept the lock as she got on her hands and knees and slid forwards.
“Dude,” said Abe as he planted an elbow in my gut. “I think she wants you.”
I didn’t even have a chance to make a snide-but-witty comment of my own when her torso snapped up and her breasts nearly bounced out of the cups. Abe went bug eyed. I was already long since there. Stephie’s hands reached back and part of the audience went silent.
She teased. “Come on boys,” she called over the music. “Should I do it?” You should be able to guess the audience response. If you can’t, the next magazine rack probably has the Archie comics.
“This is for you, Chuck,” she mouthed. She leaned forward to show off the size and weight of her breasts as the bra came free and slid slowly down her arms.
My god, it was amazing. Her years of keeping them completely and modestly bound up had left her with a set so perfect and firm that guys around me were moaning in ecstasy. I might have joined them, but I didn’t cum in my pants they way I think Abe did. I had to save it. Steph was going to get so totally fucked tonight and I didn’t want to have to tap out early. I’m pleased to say that I didn’t, but I did get a reprimand at work the next day for being off my game.
When the bra came off and I saw that my little sister wasn’t all that little, the club erupted in pandemonium. The look of raw and complete lust on her face probably matched mine. I’d never seen her topless before even though we’d been more intimate than we should have been for the last few months. She looked amazing in lace and astonishing in the buff. I had no idea. None whatsoever. Before she stared dressing up I’d swear she had a modest at best chest, but in reality she’d been hiding away mountains. It was like an iceberg. She only showed a little bit until she started melting and all it took was a bit of lace to give her the confidence and heat.
I was flabbergasted. Abe was totally lost. “You know her? She sure knows you. Is that the hot girlfriend you go on about?”
“That’s my sister, Abe.”
“You poor fuck!” He laughed and his eyes went wide. Then they narrowed as his grin became huge. “You mind if I...”
I decked Abe at that point.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” I yelled at Steph when she came out to meet me after her show. The bouncers wouldn’t let me back inside to see my own sister after they threw me out for dimming Abe’s lights.
“I didn’t want you to find out about Anne,” she explained between panting gasps and open mouthed kisses.
“Anne?” I said, taken aback. “Who the hell is Anne?”
“Anne helps me get home some nights.”
“She drives you?”
“No, silly! After a good show I’m so wired that I can hardly walk and she’s really good at clearing my head. You’ll love her and she’s been dying to meet you! I just didn’t know how to explain. I was worried that you’d freak out you knew I was cheating on you with another girl.”
Well, obviously I can’t marry Steph, but Anne’s an excellent beard as well as my official and legally sanctioned bed partner. Plus the new corset does wonders for her waist not to mention her career, and all three of our sex lives.