Costume Shop Ch. 04: Candy Awakens

As Wendy returned home from her first-time making love to the lust witch Viveanne Malcolm, she had no idea the wide-ranging effects that would take hold due to their coupling. While the dance that would happen that weekend would echo down through the lore of Southport and Anne's Harbor, there were moments that went unremarked by many that were equally important. Later that night, one of those moments took place.

Wendy's younger sister, Cynthia, called Candy by friends and family. had spent the day studying for AP exams. She had lost herself in the numbers and words of the past. Occasionally, she would bask in the warmth of her desk sun lamp. But, around 9:00 p.m., she decided to call a halt for the night and check on her sister. Candy had not seen Wendy since the previous afternoon, when her older sister had seemed distracted and confused. That decision would have lasting consequences for Candy, Wendy, and the rest of the town...

--

I stood in the hall outside my older sister's room. She'd seemed really confused and lost yesterday when I'd seen her last. I hoped she was feeling better. Our mother had said she wasn't feeling well when she walked in last night. Wendy had skipped supper, which was really unusual for any of us. Our parents, Jill and Jon Carmichael, had firm beliefs about family meals. They thought it was important that we all sit down together at least once a day and share what was going on in our lives.

I tended to agree. I felt like it made us a closer, stronger family than some others I could name. Of course, there were some families in town who just took it to crazy lengths. Take the Turgenevs, for example. Those Russians took things to an extreme even my grandmother, who insisted the entire family gather each week for Sunday supper, wouldn't dream of. Still, the Carmichaels were close enough that one of us skipping supper usually meant dire illness or a commitment that couldn't be broken.

Instead of the dull knock I expected to hear when I tapped on Wendy's door, there was a softer sound and the door swung open. That was a surprise. Normally, we kept our doors closed. While it wasn't something anyone in the house talked about, our parents respected our privacy. They expected us to do the same for each other. No one ever entered someone else's room without knocking and receiving an invitation. Finding a door unlatched was just weird.

I poked my head inside, expecting to see Wendy sprawled on her bed, asleep. Instead...Empty bed. No one in the desk chair either. The door to the bathroom was open, and the lights were off. While Wendy liked to shower in the dark, the water wasn't running, and she closed the door when she did that. So, where exactly was my absentee older sister?

A flash of bright orange on her desk caught my eye. Something was poking out of a large box, that looked like the kind of thing you'd wrap a sweater in at Christmas. Glancing around nervously, I skipped over to the desk quickly. A peek at whatever the heck Wendy had left out, and then I'd leave. No one would ever know.

The orange appeared to be some kind of fake fur. When I nudged the lid back a bit to get a better look, I was confronted with more fake fur. Orange and white, and...Wait, were those fake ears? And a tail? Before I could think better of it, I'd reached into the box, lifting out what was definitely a fake tail. Had my sister decided to become a furry and not told me?

The idea was laughable. First, because Wendy would never get into anything so sexual. Our mother had raised us to believe that that sort of behavior was confined to the bedroom (or the living room, truth be told, if the one time I'd caught mom and dad fucking on the couch was anything to go on). And second...Second...Wait. What the hell? I stared at what dangled from the end of the tail. That was a damn butt plug!

I knew quite a bit about such things. My friend, Maureen, delighted in being a knowledgeable freak, even at 18 and still in high school. I'd seen almost every imaginable sex toy in Maureen's stash. She loved ordering random stuff. Bad Dragon was a particular favorite at the moment.

I found myself licking my lips at the thought of her newest acquisition, which she'd told me was called the Kona. Then I blinked, confusion slamming into me like a train. I didn't use curse words, not even in my head. And since when did I think of my mom as, well, mom? I'd been grossed out by Maureen's newest dildo when I'd first seen it. Now I was daydreaming about lubing it up and trying it out.

I dropped the tail back into the box, closing the lid and fleeing Wendy's room. I never did find out where she was when I'd gone snooping. As it turned out, things took a turn and I found myself unable to focus on the question of her whereabouts.

I changed for bed, getting into a pair of silky pajamas I almost never wore. My aunt Ren had gotten them for me on my eighteenth birthday. Aunt Ren liked that kind of thing, and her exact words had been, "You're a grown woman now. Time to put kiddy stuff away and appreciate the finer things."

I'd tried the pajamas out that first night and found I didn't really like the slippery fabric. I'd switched back to my usual t-shirt and jersey knit shorts before even falling asleep. Now, though, there was something about the way the fabric just seemed to flow over my skin that left me feeling...Really...Really good. I ran my fingers over and over the sleeves and legs of the outfit, cooing in delight at the smooth, watery feel of the fabric.

I found my mind drifting back to what I'd found in Wendy's room. Where in the world had she gotten what was so clearly a sex costume? I mean, normal Halloween costumes like the one she'd supposedly been shopping for earlier in the week didn't come with tails tipped by butt plugs. That was some sort of weird fetish thing.

But it would probably feel good in your ass, if you were patient about getting it up there...

I jumped at the thought. I'd never even fantasized about anything going up my butt. That was simply not something a proper woman did. Sure, I'd spent my share of late nights biting a pillow and fucking my pussy until I came, but fuck...Wait. 'Fucking my pussy'? I never ever thought of my quim like that. What the actual fuck? I sat up, staring at the mirror that was attached to my dresser.

My eyes were wild in my reflection. I could understand why. I was more than slightly freaked out. After all, I never even thought words like the ones that had been drifting through my mind just now. I certainly didn't imagine just how good it would feel to slide things into my tight little ass while fingering myself. The problem was, as upset as I was about these weird thoughts, I could feel myself heating up.

I knew all the signs. For one thing, I was a huge biology nerd. While I tended to focus on plants, I had made a careful study of animal biology as well. After all, if I was going to live my dream of being a college professor, it wouldn't do to specialize too much. I needed to be able to connect with freshman students as well, so that I could share the wonder of the biological world with them.

Your biology is pretty wonderful... I found myself thinking. My gaze had drifted downward from my freaked out blue eyes, settling on my chest. It wasn't quite heaving, but I was breathing hard from a combination of nerves and growing arousal. I couldn't stop staring at my breasts as they rose and fell with my breathing.

God, I've got great tits. No wonder people stare. The thought snapped me out of my boob-based hypnosis. Tits? I never ever thought such crass bullshit. But, at the same time...It was hard to deny. I had great tits. They were full and round, a whole cup size bigger than my mom's or Wendy's. It was something I was secretly proud of, knowing I got more looks than other members of my family. I was also secretly ashamed of those thoughts...Normally. Right now, I couldn't bring myself to be too upset.

After all, I had great tits.

My hands drifted up, finding my nipples through the silk of my pajama top. I yelped, then sank backwards moaning. I hadn't avoided my breasts during self-play in the past. For one thing, Maureen's seemingly bottomless collection of porn had taught me that breasts were excellent places to start filthy fun. For another thing, my breasts were fairly sensitive. Not nearly enough to cum from just breast play, the way Maureen had claimed some women she'd talked to on Reddit suggested was possible...But still, they felt good. Normally.

Tonight though, was different. It was like someone had decided that I needed a second and third clit, and wouldn't it just be the best idea if they were on my chest and were actually in the same spot as my thick nipples used to be? I gave a soft scream as I felt a tiny climax rip through my belly as I found my nipples. I'd only run my fingers across them, causing the silk fabric to slide across them. That was all it took, though.

It was at least three minutes before I could think straight again. By the time I got my head back on straight, I realized someone was knocking insistently at my door. Thank goodness I'd thought to lock it when I came back from snooping Wendy's room. Silly bitch shouldn't have left toys out like that. If mom went looking, she'd be in so much trouble. But mom was outside my room, not Wendy's and her voice sounded concerned.

"Candy? Are you all right? I heard you yell."

"Fine, mom," I said, my voice a bit thick. Hopefully she'd assume I sounded strange for some reason other than 'just came from playing with my tits'.

"What happened, sweetie?"

Mom's voice sounded concerned. Probably because I'd called her mom. It wasn't really something Wendy or I had used since the time we were in diapers. It was always 'mother', because she felt that had the right ring of respect to it. Still, she was likely more worried about whatever I'd done to cause that yell.

"Just stubbed my toe while I was getting ready for bed. I locked the door because I wanted privacy, that's all."

I knew that was going to be her next question. While we all accepted that sometimes a locked door was necessary, we didn't typically use them. I did whenever I was playing with my body, but I'd have to be a truly stupid bitch not to, right?

"Well, make sure you're okay. I'll see you in the morning, sweetie."

Please go the fuck away. My tits are calling to me, and my pussy is practically screaming. I need some time to myself.

As soon as I heard her footsteps recede, I snatched up the t-shirt I'd worn that day. I stuffed it into my mouth to muffle any further noises, then went back to work.

My hands found my tits again quickly. They felt so goddamn good. I was cumming again within moments, and after that orgasm, my body demanded to be naked. I didn't argue. My body clearly knew best.

In moments I was nude. I don't think I'd ever been so wet. I was practically dripping. Apparently, all I needed to let my inner slut out was to find out my sister had one too. I felt a momentary dimming of my arousal at the thought of my sister doing what I was doing. Yuck. No thanks. Wendy was not my speed. For one thing, she was my fucking sister. For another, she was a woman.

As I flopped back onto my bed, I conjured up an image of Walt Redrock. He was the absolutely yummy representative of the Department of the Interior in town. Most people called him a park ranger, but he was so much more than that. He knew oodles about the forest, as well as plant and animal biology. I'd loved attending his lectures on the rare occasions he gave one at the state park.

Now, though, I was thinking about his body. God, he was ripped. Muscles for days. Not an ounce of fat anywhere that I knew of. And Maureen had confided that she'd 'accidentally' bumped his crotch while wearing a crop top, discovering that he was also hung like a goddamn horse. My fingers were a sorry substitute for something thick and throbbing and real, but I managed.

I was brought up short again by that thought, even as my fingers went inside me palm deep. I'd never imagined fucking a boy before. That was only for after marriage. Self-play was all fine and dandy, but premarital sex just wasn't right.

Walt isn't a boy, though...Walt is a Man. A big, hung Man...

I moaned, then slapped my free hand over my mouth to stifle the sound. I happened to still be holding my panties, which I'd slid off in my haste to get at my hot, naked body. I only hesitated for a moment. They'd fit in my mouth better and wouldn't be hanging down in the way of groping my tits, the way the t-shirt would be. I wadded up the remaining fabric and wedged it in between my teeth.

It took me a bit to realize something that tickled the back of my mind as I pistoned two fingers in and out of myself and groped wildly at my tits. As my fourth orgasm subsided, I realized something fucking delicious was coating my tongue. As I built towards my fifth climax, I realized it was my own juices. I'd soaked my panties before getting them off, and now my fluids were mixing with my saliva and flowing over my tongue and down my throat. At the thought, I just moaned louder and sucked on the fabric to get more of the flavor.

An hour later, I lay, spent. I'd cum at least five more times, and it was only exhaustion that made me stop. I wanted more, but my arms were both beyond sore and my pussy cried out for a break. The room reeked like a fucking whorehouse, which was a thought I'd never had before. But given that it smelled like sweat and pussy, I couldn't imagine that a whorehouse would smell much different.

It was a good smell, I decided. The smell of a well fucked woman. Granted, I hadn't actually been fucked, even if my fingers had given me a good run at it. I suddenly found myself wondering just why I'd decided to wait until marriage. Was it really such a big deal, finding pleasure before finding your forever partner? And besides, how could you commit adultery against someone you weren't even involved with?

Another thought drifted through my mind as I slowly fell into sleep.

I tasted fucking fantastic. I wonder if Maureen tastes that good...

***

The next day was Saturday. I slept in, and when I woke up, I felt amazing. I sat up, realizing I'd slept in the nude. My silk pajamas were in a puddle on the floor next to my bed. The panties I'd used as a gag lay beside me on top of the comforter. With a soft giggle, I reached for my breasts. There was time for a bit of private fun before facing the day.

An hour later, I was bouncing downstairs. I felt like a million bucks. Who knew that three orgasms before a morning shower would leave a girl so peppy?

I'd dressed for a workout. That was definitely intentional. Normally, my mom would never in a million years let me leave the house like this. Painted on yoga pants left nothing about my legs or ass or pussy to the imagination. A top that barely managed to not be a sports bra was desperately trying to contain my big bouncy tits. But I was also carrying the beat-up hoodie I wore when working out for cheerleading and track, so I had an out.

My mom's expression was definitely unhappy when she saw my outfit. She was in her usual button up blouse and ankle length skirt. She never, ever wore anything more daring. She thought that conservative dress was the mark of a respectable lady. Her tone carried a deep disapproval when she looked me up and down.

"Cynthia Carmichael, did you hit your head after you stubbed your toe? You know very well that I won't let you leave..."

"...The house like this. I know, mom. Cool your tits. I'm going over to Maureen's to get in some training before the half marathon next week."

My mom's jaw dropped. Okay, so maybe telling her to cool her tits was a bit much. But I just felt so damn good, I couldn't bring myself to feel bad. I scampered over to where she stood in the living room, dust rag in hand, and gave her a huge hug. I pressed my body against hers, trying to physically impart my good mood to her.

It must've worked, because after stiffening for a moment, mom relaxed. When I pulled back, she looked annoyed, but not really angry. Her tone was less censoring and more like she was put out with some antics from toddler Candy.

"Please watch your language, sweetie. You know your father and I don't like filthy shit like that."

"You're one to talk, Ms. Filthy Shit."

She swatted me with the dust rag, chuckling.

"You rubbed off on me. Now get out of here and go put in time sweating it out."

Oh, don't worry, mom. I fully intended to.

Twenty minutes later, I came to a stop in front of Maureen's house. I could have driven and been there in five. For some reason, though, I just felt like running. So, I ran. While I was a bit out of breath, I felt really, really good. Perfectly warmed up.

I was overjoyed to see that only one car was in the driveway. Maureen's parents both drove Toyotas. His and hers Prius hatchbacks. Maureen had a beat-up old station wagon she'd insisted on for some reason. I didn't really care why she drove the old Volvo, just that it was sitting in the driveway of the Johnson house all alone.

I jogged up to the front door, not bothering to knock or ring the bell before going in. Maureen and I had been best friends since kindergarten. We essentially lived at each other's houses on weekends. Her parents treated me like their second daughter, and my parents treated her like my long-lost twin sister.

"Maureen! Hey, you lazy bitch, where are you?"

My friend poked her blonde head around the corner of the hall that lead to her room. Confusion was writ large on her face.

"Cyn? You feeling okay? I don't think I've heard you curse since that one time I managed to get you tipsy."

"You have totally called me way worse. Hell, you called me a clumsy cunt the other day when I tripped on thin air. Lazy bitch is barely a pejorative by your standards."

Maureen relaxed when I started talking more like myself. I grinned, shedding my hoodie and stretching. Just as I'd expected, Maureen's eyes tracked down my body to take in my clinging outfit. I saw heat flare and then recede. I knew Maureen was proudly bisexual. I also knew that she respected our friendship way too much to make a move when she knew I was straight.

Well, I'd been straight until I tasted myself last night. Now, I didn't know exactly what I was.

I sank onto the couch, stretching out and sighing in contentment. Maureen came all the way into the living room. She was wearing a loose t-shirt and a beat-up pair of sweatpants. Clearly, she hadn't been planning on going anywhere or doing anything today. That was perfect, since I wanted her right here and all to myself.

"Did you mom have a stroke? How in the hell did you get out of the house dressed like a porn star's version of a workout video?"

"I gave her a hug and told her I was coming over here so we could train."

Maureen and I were both varsity cheerleaders, cross country runners, and track stars. We were fit, although she definitely looked more like most people's version of a runner. Perfect, tight body with just the hint of curves topping smooth, lean muscle. Looking at her now, I wondered how I had ever managed to avoid realizing how fucking hot she was. Of course, I hadn't realized how hot I was either, so I was going to give myself a pass for my dumbassery.

"A hug? Did she combust?"

"Nope. Thank goodness. Making my mom cum from just a hug would've been awkward."

Maureen's eyes bugged out. I never talked about sex in anything less than clinical language.

"Did you...Just...Candy, are you okay?"

I bounced up off the couch, tackling my friend in sheer exuberance. I was careful to guide her down, so her head landed on the thick carpet and not the hardwood floor. When she landed with a thump, and our tits were pressed together. I swallowed a moan. It seemed that my new sensitivity hadn't waned.