In for a Dime, In for a Dollar

Note to the reader: This story could have been placed into either the incest or the exhibitionism rubrics. It belongs perhaps in both. If you do not enjoy reading about incest, I suggest you avoid this story.

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I am a year older than my brother Keith and we are very close. He likes to confide to me his problems with girls, and I always provide a sympathetic ear. I'm a good listener. He never wants advice, just sympathy. Since I'm a girl, I cannot really give him empathy. It's fun to listen to him since I often get a man's perspective about the dating scene, and even sex, although fortunately he does not try to share intimate details.

Keith is a sophomore in college. He is not an innocent and by my count, based on his stories, he has already bedded at least three girls, maybe four. I'm a junior, but at a different college, and he came to visit me one weekend. He had a crush on one particular girl, Rebecca.

"She is perfect, Sis," Keith said to me. "She has a great body and a pretty face, and she is scary smart." I know Keith likes smart women. "She is sweet, thoughtful, insightful. She is perfect, that's what so scary."

"I don't understand," I said to Keith.

Ignoring my remark, Keith continued, "It's how she dresses. She always wears panty hose, make-up, jewelry, and even perfume. God she smells so divine. I melt into a puddle when her scent wafts by me."

We are in northern California, and this is not the way us women dress here. We look nice, but nobody wears panty hose, nor perfume and we only wear minimal make-up and minimal jewelry. By our standards, this girl must have seemed exotic.

"Where is she from?" I asked Keith. "Maybe she is an East Coast girl? Girls dress differently out east you know."

"They do?" Keith asked.

"Yes, it's a different tradition."

"She's from New York, I think. Maybe it's just a cultural thing, her dressing that way. Anyway, I'm hooked. I guess I like that she is different and tries always to look nice," my brother said.

"Rebecca has a smile that lights up a room," Keith continued. "I just want to be near her, to see that smile, to make sure she smiles as much as possible. I'm happy when I'm near her; she makes everyone happy around her."

"Keith, you have it bad. First, all of us girls try to look nice, all the time. And girls smile a lot. That's what we do. And as for dress, usually we dress within the dominant paradigm, that's all. I'll bet she's from Long Island. From what I know, that's how girls dress back there. I also hear Long Island girls are good in bed. They'll give you blowjobs and let you fuck their brains out. Once you get their pantyhose off, of course."

"Ellen!" my brother said. "I can't believe you said that! You can't talk about a million women like that! Shame on you. I just love the way she looks; I find her so sexy. But I'm scared of her."

"Why?" I asked.

"Oh Sis, you know. I'm not in her league. This girl has too much class for a country boy like myself."

"Keith, you deserve any girl you want. You are nice, sweet, smart, respectful, clean, and good-looking. Shit Keith, you are hot. Plus, you can talk and carry on a conversation. That makes you one highly unusual man right there. Most men must have thoughts, I suppose, but they sure do keep them to themselves."

Keith laughed. "That's because when a girl is talking to us men, about movies, literature, art, theater, music, or whatnot, all we're thinking about is what she would look like if she were naked, how and if we can get her into bed, and how she'd fuck us if we were to get her into bed, if you'll excuse my language. We men assume that such subjects would not be well received, so we're just happy to be quiet and let the girls blather on."

"Okay Keith I'm convinced," I said. "You're a pig."

"No way, Sis. That's not me. I'm just telling you why men are so taciturn," Keith said.

"Well, for someone disclaiming that behavior, you sure described it well," I said.

"No doubt it's due to my natural talent at creative writing. I observe," Keith said, and we both broke up in laughter.

I silently thought about my own love life. I was going through a serious dry spell. I had not had a date with a man in over three months. I was horny, and felt unattractive, since no men were hitting on me. None at all. Maybe a change in scenery would help?

"Hey Keith," I said, "You always visit me here, but I would like to meet this girl Rebecca. How about next weekend I come to your college? Maybe you could ask her to put me up?"

"Oh no," Keith said, "I could never do that. We're not friends. We're in some classes together, and I always try to sit near her, but that's about the extent of it. One time she asked if we could study together, and that was like a dream. But all we did was study. Her perfume drove me crazy; it was hard to concentrate."

Keith thought for a minute. "I'm pretty sure I could put you up with Steve if you like. He'd be thrilled, and you can guess why."

Steve is Keith's best friend, and I had met him a few times. Once he even came home with Keith during October break, and I came home then, too, and we met. As I look back on that visit, I realize it is when my forays into exhibitionism began, although I had no idea to even call it that back then.

There was this one accident when I was coming out of the shower naked at the same time Steve walked into the bathroom. We both were surprised and both stood facing each other for a while, perhaps a good long minute, maybe two or more minutes even, as he admired my nude body, dripping water. I then grabbed a towel and covered myself, and he apologized and ran from the bathroom.

I have no idea why I just stood there and let him feast his eyes on my nudity. I do remember getting wet down there by having him see me naked, and I was enjoying it so much I deliberately delayed covering myself. A normal girl would have instantly reached for a towel.

Every time I saw him after that, he got an erection. I should explain: according to most boys, I have a hot body. I guess I do: I have curves in all the right places, and I am lucky to have really perfect skin. And now Steve knew exactly what the mysteries of my body were. He just had never been able to sample them.

Also I was a bit wicked. After he saw my naked body in the bathroom, I had this urge to torment him with teases. Maybe I wanted to relive that hugely erotic moment. While he was at our home I began to walk around in a braless thin tee shirt and just panties, and when I was backlit you could sort of see through the tee shirt and a lot of my body was revealed, my boobs in particular.

Keith is my brother so he was immune (or at least I hoped he was; he actually was not as much as he should have been, as it turns out), but Steve was practically drooling over my body that entire weekend.

"I'm sure Steve has recovered from that weekend. I was a bit wicked as you know, and teased him mercilessly. But I'm sure he has laid a lot of girls since then. Is he involved with someone?"

"I'm not sure," Keith replied. "But he owes me, and if you want I'm sure you can stay with him."

"Okay," I said, "Then it's settled. I'll come out Thursday night, and head back on Sunday. I'll meet Rebecca, get to know her, and tell you how to get into her pantyhose, okay?"

"Sis, you are an angel," Keith said, and then he kissed me on the mouth. This was a bit unusual. Usually we kiss each other on the cheek. It was a nice kiss and I felt a little arousal. I thought to myself: Am I really that horny that my body responds to a kiss from my own brother? I need to find a man and have sex right away!

Once Keith returned to his college I put a plan into action. I had an image of how Rebecca dressed based on Keith's description, so I quickly did a scan of Vogue, Cosmopolitan, and a few other magazines. After that, I did a little shopping and got all dressed up including pantyhose, jewelry, and perfume.

I wore a skirt I considered too short, and a low cut blouse that was cut too low, and I grabbed a girl friend (Mary) and took her bar hopping. I explained to Mary I needed to get laid.

When Mary saw how I was dressed, she did not want to be outclassed, so she dressed similarly, and borrowed some of my perfume. The perfume is Opium, by Yves St Laurent, and no man can resist it. I splashed it on all over, including under my boobs. You could smell us from 10 feet away. We looked hot to trot.

I immediately could tell what the issue was with Keith. Men at these California bars did not know what to make of us. I think they thought we were executives, or at least executive secretaries, stopping for a drink after work, and that they were not in our league. Men avoided us like the plague, even if I showed a lot of leg and a lot of boob and felt I smelled like a woman wanting sex. I was surprised.

I figured out the men did not understand us, and they probably thought they had little chance of getting us into bed, and if they did it would take too much effort. If only they had known! Of course they could have found us appealing and tried to get to know us, even if sex might not have been on the immediate menu, but that's not how men think when they are in bars trying to meet women.

Eventually two men hit on us. They were visiting from New York, and for them we looked normal, like two nice girls. As I look back on it, given how much flesh we (and especially I) were showing, we probably looked cheap, and easy. This is a common mistake: looking cheap is a social class thing. Being easy is not necessarily correlated to social class. I think it's a mistake men make. Nevertheless, just then I also felt easy; I wanted to get royally fucked.

More is the pity there was no chemistry between them and us so we came home frustrated and even hornier than when we began the evening.

At least I had the weekend at Keith's college to look forward to. I planned to enjoy teasing Steve some more. I did, too. I greeted Steve with a big thank you for putting me up and gave him a big open mouth thank you kiss, pulling rapidly away from him so he could not try to paw me. Then I put on my new clothes that I called my 'Rebecca outfit,' and I headed over to see Keith.

Keith stared at me. "Jesus, Ellen, you look as hot as Rebecca! And you smell even better than she does! You're going to drive Steve crazy, you know."

I smiled. "I figure if I dress like Rebecca maybe she will open up to me. When do I meet her?"

"In an hour. I told her about you and she wants to meet you. We're meeting at Starbucks."

"Which one?" I asked.

"The new one on 4th Street," Keith replied. "But no worries; I'm taking you there."

I met Rebecca and we hit it off. Keith left to go to class, and then she opened up to me like a good book. She was indeed from Long Island, in particular the South Shore, and she was horny as hell.

She asked if I was from the east, perhaps also from Long Island? She guessed the North Shore. I am sure that meant something sociologically, but I had no idea what. Or, it could simply have meant that while I dressed like her, I was not really from the same micro culture, and of course she could tell that.

Rebecca did not understand why men avoided her. She wanted to know if they avoided me, too? I silently laughed. Yes, they did seem to be avoiding me, but for different reasons, since I did not usually dress that way. But I did not tell Rebecca that. I told her no on both counts, I just like dressing like this. And I decided it was the truth: I did like dressing like Rebecca did.

We had a lot of girl talk for around 2 hours, and we became fast friends, and she agreed to come to my college to visit for some unspecified future weekend. Keith has mixed taste in girl friends, but Rebecca seemed to me to be a keeper, if he could hook her. His prospects were good, if he listened to me.

Rebecca was not stupid by any means. She knew whatever she told me would get back to my brother. She knew exactly what I was doing. The amazing thing was that she welcomed it. I realized the wanted me not to help Keith get involved with her; instead she wanted me to help her to snag Keith. Win-win, either way.

Later that day I told Keith what he needed to do to seduce Rebecca. I had learned she liked him, and thought he was hot, and hoped/wished he felt the same way. She was uncertain how he felt about her.

I did not tell her Keith had a crush on her but was afraid to act on it. Fear of rejection is a powerful force. I did tell her that he was a bit timid, but I knew he really liked her, and to be patient. Then I told him to strike while the iron was hot. Take her to bed on the third date, not before, and not after. And by all means, ask her out immediately!

Keith listened, agreed, and later told me my plan sounded great, and he planned to try it. But I still had my own sexual frustrations to deal with.

I did have a lot of fun teasing Steve. Steve had a roommate who was sleeping at his girlfriend's place, so I slept in his roommate's bed. I wore a nightgown that tried but failed to hide my body.

I wore no underwear underneath it, and if I leaned forward just so, you could see all of my boobs (my boobs are a little bit on the large size), nipples and all. The nightgown was also too short, and provided views of my entire ass if I bent over, and if I reached up for something, it rose to reveal my nicely trimmed cunt.

Needless to say I put on my nightgown early in the evenings so I could maximize my lounging time while wearing this little bit of nothing. And also needless to say, I reached up for things all the time, and bent forward a lot, giving Steve lots of views of my body, sometimes my ass, sometimes my boobs.

I was driving him nuts and he had a constant erection, something that was fairly obvious. At night I fingered myself and needlessly moaned very loudly, making sure he could hear me moaning in bed. I got up a couple of hours later to use the toilet and ran into him, and told him I had some amazingly erotic dreams. Steve was really a mess!

I came out again the next weekend. I met up with Rebecca and told her how wickedly evil I had been with Steve, and gave her the background. It was Rebecca, bless her soul, who explained to me what exhibitionism was. I did not need sex, she explained, what I really needed was to indulge my desire (she called it a need) to be an exhibitionist more often than just the rare times I could tease my brother's best friend.

I understood and said, "You may be right, I don't know, but you are wrong about one thing: I definitely need some sex!"

Rebecca said, "Why don't you combine them? Come on, I'll show you how to be an exhibitionist, using your brother, if you do not mind? I'm crazy about him, you know." She explained she had gone on two dates with him already, but he had not tried to bed her yet, and she was wondering if he really was attracted to her, or not? I silently laughed. My plan was working perfectly.

Further discussion led to Rebecca explaining that she wanted him to try to bed her and to fail. She only beds men on the third date at the earliest. She has to like them, and she has to be convinced they like her, and that they will come back for more if she lets them fuck her. In the meantime, she is going crazy with lust for my brother Keith.

I realized she wanted me to let Keith know it was time for him to put the moves on her. There would be no resistance from her, that was clear!

So Rebecca and I went over to see Keith, who was studying for a test. Rebecca had brought over some outfits she had recently bought, and planned to ask me my opinion of them. She had not removed the tags and they were returnable if she decided they were not for her. Since Keith was there, she would ask him, too.

Rebecca was therefore constantly changing clothes. She was often in her underwear, and she was wearing a nearly transparent lacy bra and matching panties, leaving only tiny bits to the imagination. My guess is that her choice of such sexy underwear was no accident.

Changing the clothes gave Keith plenty of opportunities to check out her body clad only in her 'come fuck me' underwear. She never turned her back to him while in her underwear in a show of modesty; he got full frontal views of her in her underwear. No false modesty for her!

Keith was getting hot and bothered by this, and I could see an erection through his clothes. I was imagining doing the same to Steve, later that afternoon. Then I had a devilish thought. I said, "Rebecca that last blouse might look better without a bra. Do you want to model it like that for us?"

I was curious if she would remove her bra for Keith, and if she did, how much she would let him see? Would she turn her back to him when she was topless? Even if she did it would still be sexy, that's for sure.

"Good idea, Ellen." Rebecca winked at me with a big smile in a thank you gesture, and she quickly removed her blouse and then her bra, giving Keith a rather spectacular free look at her boobs. She did not turnaround or otherwise attempt to hide the view. Keith could not contain himself. His mouth was open and he was brazenly staring at her.

"I think you like my boobs Keith, yes?" Rebecca said. Keith did not answer; he looked paralyzed, in a state of shock. "Would you like to touch them? Maybe kiss them?" Keith was frozen and mute.

"That's okay," Rebecca said, with kindness in her voice, resembling the sweet tone a mother would use to her child after he fell and skinned his knee. She put on the blouse, and damn if it did not in fact look better without a bra!

Keith regained the ability to speak and he said, "My God, Rebecca, you are so beautiful in that blouse. And you are even more gorgeous without it. My God. Oh, my God."

Rebecca giggled nervously, and then she said, "I hope you like my bikini," and with that she stripped naked, stood there on display stark naked studying her bikini for seriously longer than she needed to, giving Keith ample time to check her out 'down there,' and everywhere else.

She put on the bikini, beginning with the bottom. She put it on slowly, making the show of her boobs last as long as possible. Keith could not stand it anymore, and walked over to her. He started kissing her and slowly and nervously removed her bikini.

When she did nothing to stop him, and protested not at all, he simply continued to kiss her and began running his hands all over her naked body, fondling her boobs, and rubbing her perfect little ass. She gave appreciative little moans to encourage him.

When my brother's hands entered her snatch, she moaned more loudly, signaling approval. Knowing what would inevitably happen, and given Keith was my brother, I quietly left. I had nowhere to go, so I went over to Steve's room. I needed release! Steve was sitting there alone, studying, and he did not look up but greeted me with an affectionate hello.

I complained about being uncomfortable and announced I was going to change clothes. I asked Steve if he could lend me a tee shirt. That got his attention, and as he gave me one, an exercise tee shirt where the synthetic fabric had lots of small holes to breathe, I removed my blouse, my skirt, and my pantyhose, so I was dressed only in bra and panties.

Steve had an erection, just from seeing me in my underwear. Wow. My underwear was nowhere as sexy as was Rebecca's. I made a mental note to rectify that the next time I went shopping. I gave him a big kiss on the lips to thank him for the loan of his tee shirt, and slipped it on. I looked in the mirror and frowned, and took it off.

"Is there something wrong with the tee shirt?" Steve asked.

"Oh no, it's a lovely tee shirt. I just don't like the way my bra looks with it. You saw it, right?"

"Yes of course," Steve said. "I thought it looked good. You look sexy in it if I may say so."