Sister’s Satin Panties

I sat on the toilet in the bathroom at my sister's house. I was masturbating. I had a pair of my sister's nylon panties over my face and I inhaled her musky odour as I furiously stroked my erect penis which I had wrapped in a pair of her black satin panties.

The memories came flooding back.........................

My name is Mike and in 1974 I was eighteen years old. I was a gawky, pimply teenager who was just entering puberty and I seemed to have a constant erection. I attended a college boarding school with my twenty-year-old sister Michele.

Mother had decided it was best for us to attend a co-educational college in the country. What she really meant was that it was best for her to be rid of us. Having fleeced our father of most of his fortune in a messy divorce, she was now riding high living a seventies lifestyle of sex and drugs and rock and roll, and having two teenage children in the house would only cramp her style.

The Graham Academy prided itself on being one of the most progressive educational institutions of the seventies. Just being co-educational was huge step forward for the day. The boys and girls were of course accommodated in sperate dormitories and were never allowed to mix without being chaperoned by the staff; the most any boy ever got away with at the Graham Academy was a stink-finger behind the hall at the annual summer dance. Boys and girls were not allowed to form relationships or fraternise; these were grounds for expulsion.

Boys wore a uniform consisting of grey slacks, white shirt and black shoes; ties and blazers in winter, optional short-sleeves in summer. Girls wore grey skirts and white blouses; ties and blazers in winter of course. But being a progressive school, the dress code allowed some latitude and we were allowed to wear our uniforms tailored in the current fashion and style.

Boys could wear platform-shoes, flared pants, big collars on their shirts and wide ties provided they met the met the requirements of the school uniform code. Girls could wear A-line skirts, hems just above the knees, platform-shoes and, as the school was very progressive indeed, they could wear flesh-toned or tan pantyhose as an alternative to white knee-high socks.

In summer most of the younger girls opted for the white knee-highs but all of the older girls, and the younger girls in winter, opted for pantyhose.

Boys were allowed to have long hair, shoulder length professionally styled please; no scruffy hippy looks were allowed at Graham. Girls could wear makeup and nailpolish provided it was not too gaudy.

Yes the Graham Academy was a very progressive seventies school and the girls uniform was largely responsible for my constant state of excitement. Imagine if you will, being a horny eighteen-year-old sitting in the school cafeteria and an eighteen-year-old nymphette drops her can of Tab right next to where you are sitting.

She bends over to pick it up and her blouse opens just enough for you to see her frilly white bra and pubescent titties; her A-line skirt slides up her legs, the hem of her cotton skirt whispering on her sheer tan hosiery; the darker nylon of her pantyhose gusset suddenly sneaks into view and for a second you get a glimpse of pink satin panty.

Well any pubescent eighteen-year-old would have to race off to the toilets for a wank to relieve the pressure after seeing such a sight. I spent a lot of time in toilets at the Graham Academy. Those little A-line skirts had a habit of blowing up in even the slightest breeze and if a girl was to forget her modesty and bend over for any reason, a panty-peek was almost inevitable. To be honest I think a lot of the girls liked to flash the boys on purpose.

The girls at the Graham Academy were slaves to fashion more than to sensibility; nowadays women seem to have forgone the sensibilities, and to my mind, sensuality, of hosiery. We live in the days where there is some sort of feminine crusade against hosiery; I have even read articles in women's magazines where women are chided and rebuked for daring to wear pantyhose. The authors complain of discomfort and feminine hygiene issues associated with wearing pantyhose. The same applies to nylon and satin underpants; although the cotton gusset of these items of apparel seems to have saved them from extinction, but they seem to have been relegated to the forms of g-string thongs or boy-leg panties.

Not so for the girls of the Graham Academy in the swinging seventies: full cut satin panties or nylon briefs were de rigueur and bare legs were for philistines!

What magnificent times we lived in!

Twice a year; summer and Christmas holidays; my sister and I were permitted to travel home on the overnight train to spend a few tortuous weeks with mother and whoever her current fling happened to be. Mother would book my sister and myself a sleeping compartment and remit us enough expenses to cover meals and incidentals for the long train journey.

The Graham Academy was progressive but it still held onto some of the conventions of the times. Students were not permitted to bring non-uniform items of clothing to the school and had to travel to and from the Academy in school uniform.

Three days before Christmas 1974 found me sitting in a dimly lit railway carriage looking out the window at the girls on the platform. As I have previously stated, I had an almost permanent hard-on in those days and I was hoping to catch a glimpse of something titillating to inspire my imagination for the long journey home which would invariably involve a sneaky wank as I lay sleepless in the top bunk as my sister slept below me in the bottom bunk.

I was in luck! A girl and a boy were hiding in a dark grotto created by piles of luggage and freight where they could not be seen by the other passengers. It was only luck that I happened to be sitting in a position where the view from my window allowed me to see them hidden from the sight of others. The boy was kissing the girl, who had her back turned towards me. She could be any of the girls from the Academy; she wore the uniform. The boy however did not; he wore the uniform of a railway employee.

The boy and the girl were kissing each other passionately and her arms were around his neck pulling his face down to hers. He had his arms around her back and I watched with growing fascination as his hands wandered down her back and began to squeeze her buttocks through her skirt.

My cock flinched in my trousers as the boy took the hem of the girls skirt and slowly started to pull it up her legs. Her tan-pantyhose encased thighs crept into view and the boy stroked her leg with one hand while his other hand held her skirt up. The girl flinched and wriggled but made no genuine attempt to extricate herself from the boy's embrace.

As my cock strained at the front of my trousers the boy became bolder and took the liberty of raising the girl's skirt higher. The darker bands of reinforced nylon appeared at the tops of her legs followed by her dark-green satin panties. I wished I could risk taking my throbbing penis out of my trousers and give it a quick wank but I didn't dare.

I did however rub my erection through my trousers as I watched the spectacle in front of me. I could plainly see the gusset of the girl's pantyhose which extended down to the top of her thighs where it transformed into the sheer tan hosiery that made up the leg parts of the garment. The vertical rear seam of the pantyhose which joins the two parts of the garment together ran up the crevice of her buttocks which were encased in the tight shiny green satin panties.

The panties were full-cut briefs; that is to say they fully encased her buttocks and had wide side panels and a wide gusset. The boy was furiously rubbing and squeezing the girl's buttocks as she squirmed in his arms. Rather than try to extricate herself from the situation the girl raised herself up on the toes of her platform shoes and kissed the boy more fervently. Her shoes were black two-inch platforms with four-inch chunky heels, the epitome of seventies tastelessness, and they only just met the rules of the Academy dress code.

I could just make out the girls pink nailpolished toenails trough the reinforced toes of her hosiery. The boy hiked up the girl's skirt even higher and now I could see all of the rear of her panties under her pantyhose and the waistband of her nylons above the waistband of her tight fitting panties.

Just when I thought it was going to get more interesting a call was made over the station Tannoy system and the couple quickly extricated themselves from each other. The girl smoothed down her skirt as the boy pushed past her; summoned to work now that the train was about to leave.

The girl straightened the hem of her skirt and pulled her fingers through her mussed-up hair. Then she picked up her travel bag from the platform floor and turned around.

It was my sister! The naughty little slut!

My erection immediately began to diminish; the thought of becoming aroused at the sight of my sister was quite repulsive. Yuck! She was my sister for god's sake!

I opened my book and began to read, trying to get the images of my sister and the railway worker out of my head. A couple of minutes later Michele entered the compartment and flopped down in the seat across from me.

"Hello dick-wad!" she said; but it was said more with sisterly affection than with malice.

"Hello Michele," I replied and then buried my head in my book.

My sister and I had a typical love-hate relationship that was common for teenagers of the day. As her little brother she did not permit me to hang around her at school; not that I'd want to anyway, but we were cordial to each other when we had to be. We mixed in totally different circles and the train trip to and from school was one of the few occasions when we spent any time alone together.

Michele bought the pleasant fragrances of her flowery perfume and Juicyfruit bubblegum into the compartment. She snapped her gum whilst she rummaged around in her travel handbag, producing a small cosmetics case. In the corner of the small compartment was a small vanity basin with a fly-specked mirror and light above it. I had already laid out my toothbrush and toothpaste on the shelf below the mirror.

My sister took her cosmetics case over to the mirror and began to fix her makeup. I feigned disinterest but I just couldn't get the picture of her being groped by the boy on the platform out of my mind. I stole a peek at her as I pretended to look around the compartment. She was quite pretty; her face framed by a black bob hairstyle. She had pouty lips to which she was applying cherry-red lipstick (definitely not allowed to be worn at the Graham Academy), her cheeks were rouged and she wore dark-green eyeshadow and lashings of black eye-liner and mascara.

She had obviously applied the makeup after leaving the Academy but before she boarded the train; probably in the ladies room at the railway station. Most of the older girls did this as an act of defiance against the rules of the Academy.

She had also loosened her tie and opened the top two buttons of her blouse. Her breasts were still developing but they nicely filled the cups of her white lace bra; the top of which was just visible. Her school blazer was lying next to her travel bag and she took off her school tie and threw it on top of the blazer. Her A-line skirt only just met the Academy dress code; the hem rested well above her knees. Her coltish legs were encased in tan-hued nylon pantyhose that were the current fashion trend and my eyes scanned down over her toned thighs, down to her knees, where her nylons wrinkled slightly, down to her sleek calves, and finally to her feet.

She wore black open-toe platform-shoes with chunky heels and her cute little toes peeked out, encased in the reinforced nylon of her pantyhose.

I had never considered my sister as sexy; sure she epitomised the sort of girl that I dreamed about during my masturbatory fantasies, but she was my older sister for god's sake and that made any sexual thoughts of her totally out of order.

But I just couldn't get the image of her with her skirt hiked up kissing the boy out of my mind!

I was staring at her bum; admiring its shape, it filled out her A-line skirt nicely; when she caught me looking.

"What are you looking at?" she asked, looking at me suspiciously.

"Err; you have some dust on the back of your skirt; you must have picked it up sitting on the bench at the station," I lied.

She put down her lipstick and brushed at the back of her skirt with her hand.

"Is it gone? Don't just sit there dick-wad; come over here and get it off me!"

My sister was quite precious and could not stand to be dressed in anything but the latest fashion and abhorred any blemish on her clothing.

Michele turned back to the mirror to continue touching up her makeup; her bum pushed out provocatively; awaiting me to remove the dust from her rear. I stood and with a trembling hand I brushed at my sisters skirt; her buttocks felt firm and warm to my touch through the thin material of her skirt. After what I determined to be an adequate amount of time pretending to remove the non-existent dust from my sister derriere I sat back down and hid my growing erection with my book.

The sensation of my sister's thin cotton skirt sliding over her slick pantied buttocks remained like the ghost of a missing limb. My cock was throbbing inside my trousers, underneath the book in my lap.

Michele returned to the seat across from me, put her cosmetics case away and took out her purse. She stood up and stretched up on her toes lifting up her travel bag to place it in the luggage rack above my head. Her perfume enveloped me and my face was inches from her body as she leaned over me. Her skirt rode up her legs and I was rewarded with a glimpse of shiny green panty-crotch and nylon encased thigh.

My cock pulsated in my trousers and I was both relieved and disappointed when she dropped back down and turned away.

"I'm going to the refreshment compartment; do you want anything?" she asked.

"Some crisps and a pop please," I answered.

When she left the compartment and closed the door behind her I breathed a sigh of relief. What the hell was going on? I was becoming infatuated with my sister and those lovely dark-green satin panties!

The next few hours were a nightmare of adolescent hormone fuelled sexual tension. My sister spent a lot of the journey coming and going to and from other compartments with her school friends but every now and then she would return to our compartment bringing with her a cloud of flowery perfume and bubblegum. She sat directly across from me and although we didn't speak much I was intensely aware of her presence.

She sat and read some inane teenage heartthrob fanzine and her skirt often rode up her thighs and she kept tugging the hem back down. She couldn't seem to get comfortable and she sat with her legs akimbo providing me with a magnificent view of the V of her panties. Her blouse was opened enough so that I could see the swell of her pubescent breasts and the lace at the top of her bra.

I pretended to read my book but I had a constant erection which I covered with my blazer, and as much as I tried not to look; I couldn't help but steal surreptitious glances when I though she wouldn't notice.

Just after dark she took down her travel bag; again engulfing me in the miasma of her girly fragrances and put her body uncomfortably close to mine, but alas this time there was no panty-peek, and took out her cosmetics case. She fixed her makeup and turned to me.

"I'm going to see my friends in the next carriage; don't wait up for me," she said.

"Make up the bunks while I'm gone and don't forget dick-wad; I get the bottom bunk!"

With that; she left the carriage and I must say I was somewhat relieved.

The sleeper carriage we occupied was a typical old British Railways model of functionality and utility. The seat across from me converted into the bottom bunk and all I had to do was unclip the vinyl cover to expose the sheets and blankets on the readymade bed. The top bunk was held up out of the way by a couple of fasteners which when released allowed the bunk to drop down. I lowered the top bunk and unclipped the vinyl cover and then got some pillows from luggage rack above me and threw them on the bunks. I pulled the shades on all of the windows.

With both bunks down the compartment was quite cramped and there was just enough room for me to change into my pyjamas and brush my teeth at the vanity basin. I turned off the overhead lights and turned on the little reading light above the top bunk and climbed into bed. I took off my pyjama top and hung it on a convenient hook near my bunk.

Certain that Michele would be gone for quite a while I slowly pleasured myself as I conjured up images of my sister with her skirt hiked up and her breasts exposed. I knew it was wrong, but as much as I tried to think of any number of the girls at school on whom I had a crush, my mind returned to the images of my sister.

After ejaculating into my handkerchief I got out of bed and hid the evidence of my illicit act inside my travel bag and washed myself at the basin. I crawled back into my bunk, and, finally relived of sexual tension, I fell asleep determined that I would put all thoughts of my sister out of my mind from now on.

Much later I was woken by someone fumbling with the door to the compartment. The door opened and my sister almost fell inside the compartment. Michele was pissed; not just inebriated, but falling-down drunk. She staggered into the compartment; locked the door behind her and promptly fell on her arse.

"Whoops-a-daisy!" she said, the scent of her perfume and bubblegum overpowered by the pungent smell of alcohol.

I knew the smell well enough; it was mother's favourite drink; and mother did like to drink! It was Southern Comfort.

"Had a few dinky-poohs dick-wad; best I get to bed," she giggled.

"Shhh; don't tell mommy," she laughed drunkenly as I turned on the bunk light.

"Jesus Christ Michele!" I said and hopped out of my bunk.

The compartment was very cramped and I stood over my sister and offered her my hands so that she could get up. She had fallen in a very unladylike position with her legs spread wide apart and her skirt had rode up exposing her thighs. Her blouse was now opened down to the third button and her white lace bra was quite visible.

I helped her to her feet and she fell against me giggling.

"You better put me to bed," she slurred.

At that moment the train lurched as it passed over a crossing and my sister and I fell onto the bottom bunk. She lay on top of me giggling like a loony. Her body pressed down on mine and I could smell her perfume under the fumes of the booze; her legs were spread wide and her skirt had hiked up again.

She began to struggle and as she rubbed her legs and breasts against me in an effort to get off me, my body began to respond accordingly. The feel of her lacy bra and titties against the bare skin of my chest was very exciting and her legs rasping against mine added to my pleasure. I was becoming aroused as my sister struggled on top of me and I tried to get her off me so that she wouldn't feel my erection pressing into her body.

I put my arms around her trying to spin her around but because she was struggling my hands ended up on her bum. My fingers experienced the sensation of her nylon pantyhose gusset sliding against the lustrous material of her satin panties. Her skirt had ridden all the way up her back!

"Whoops-a-daisy!" she giggled again.

I removed my hands from her bottom and placed them on her hips and using the weight of her body as a counterbalance I flipped her over so that she now lay under me. I straddled my sister's body and looked down at her. She was fast asleep or unconscious.