Off with Her Pants

I stood up on the bed. As much as I stretched, I could only just brush the tile with my finger tips. Possibly I could scoot the tile back with enough effort, but I was certain that Denver could reach just enough farther that he could get whatever he'd hidden up there.

"Hey! Get down from there!"

Denver's shout startled me, and I almost lost my balance.

"What's in the ceiling, Den?"

"Nothing. Don't stand on my bed."

Denver got up and came over to me. He grabbed my waist and wrestled me down onto my butt.

"You've got something up there. I wanna know what it is."

"No I don't. And even if I did, hiding it up there would mean that I didn't want you finding it. Honestly, what's gotten into today that you'd snoop through my stuff like this?"

I shrugged. "M'just bored."

"Really? Because it seems like you didn't get 'bored' until you realized I was home."

I squirmed awkwardly. "So what? Maybe I was bored and just didn't have anyone to hang with?"

"Yeah. Maybe. But I think I can count the number of times you've invaded my space like this in the past year on one hand. You've been acting different lately."

"We both have," I mumbled. "S'not just me."

"Oh." Denver sat down next to me. "It's about 'that', is it?"

"I dunno. Maybe?"

"If it's bothering you, we can stop... you know, whatever it is we're doing."

"Which is what, exactly?"

Denver threw his hands up. "Fuck if I know."

"Yeah. Basically yeah."

"But we can stop. We totally can."

"And go back to not doing much of anything together?"

I pulled my knees up to my chest. I huddled in the comfort of my own body. It wasn't like I'd meant to get all deep and sorrowful, it had just happened. Now I didn't know what to do with it.

"You don't have to take your pants off to get me to hang out with you," Denver said softly.

"But it helps," I said in an equally quiet voice.

Denver half-smiled. "It does help," he agreed.

He trailed his fingertips lightly along the side of my calf. I could barely even feel his touch through my jeans. I relaxed my legs and let them fall flat on the bed. Denver's finger moved to my inner thigh, though still I couldn't really feel them very well.

"Alright," I said. "I can take a hint." I stood up and undid the front of my jeans.

"I swear I wasn't pushing for anything. You don't have to."

I stopped with the waist of my pants only just started to be pushed down. "So now you don't wanna see?"

"I didn't say that."

"Well you're sending mixed signals. That's not the way to make a girl feel special, you know."

Denver gave me a lopsided look. "Relly," he said. "Take your pants off for me."

A little thrill went through me. It wasn't anywhere near a domineering tone, but it was more of a command than I was used to from my brother.

"Or what?" I asked.

Denver arched an eyebrow. "Or I'll take them off for you."

My breath caught for a second and a shiver ran up my spine. I believed that he would forcibly de-pants me if I forced the issue. I was practically daring him to.

Ever-so-slowly, I pushed my jeans down my legs. I bent over and partly covered myself with my upper body as I got farther down toward my ankles. Finally I straightened up and kicked my feet free. I felt extra self-conscious because there was absolutely nothing else going on to attract Denver's attention. It was just me, my bare legs, and my little panties.

"You know something? You're hands down the hottest sister I have," Denver said.

I brushed my hair back to cover a smile. "You doof. I'm the only sister you have."

"Doesn't make me wrong."

"No, but... it doesn't technically mean anything."

"Maybe not technically. How 'bout you take it however you want, then."

I nodded seriously. "Good. I'm going to assume you're totally smitten with me."

I retook my seat on the bed next to my brother. I leaned back and propped myself up with my arms. My smooth, bare legs stuck straight out in front of me. The one closest to Denver was deliberately almost, but not quite, touching his knee.

"Right," he said. "Smitten."

"It's the only reasonable assumption."

"I bet."

Denver's fingers returned to my leg. They started at my knee and did slow, parabolic loops from my upper calf to lower thigh. I could feel everything now, every whisper of his skin on mine. His touch was, if anything, even lighter then before. The uncommon delicacy he used made it feel like even more of an intimate gesture than if he'd just put his hand full on me. It was an acknowledgement of sorts that we shouldn't really be doing what we were doing.

"Now what are you going to do with me?" I asked.

"What makes you think I'm going to do anything? We're just hanging out, aren't we?"

"Do you 'just hang out' with a lot of pantsless girls?"

"Not so much, no."

"Well what would you do with one of them, then?"

Denver raised an eyebrow. "Is that a serious question?"

"I guess not. That's kind of an obvious one, huh."

"Kinda, yeah."

Denver trailed his fingertips higher up my leg. I tried to stay relaxed and perfectly still at the same time.

"Would you play this fingertip game with them?"

"The hypothetical 'them,' you mean? Maybe I would. If they were being coy."

His fingers brushed the edge of my panties, just for an instant. Then they retreated further down my leg again.

"You think I'm being coy?"

"No. I think you're my sister."

"I could be both."

"You could."

I watched Denver's face as we spoke. He looked back at mine at times, at others he examined my near-bottomless lower half. I had his full attention, anyway.

"How long before you'd try to get in their panties?"

"These imaginary other girls' panties?"

"Still them."

"It would depend on how they reacted."

Again Denver touched my panties, and he stayed on them this time. First just at the edges, teasing the threat of venturing out more boldly. Slowly, so painfully slowly, he crept nearer to the forbidden zone.

"And what if they didn't react?"

I met Denver's eyes. We stared straight at each other even while his hand slid to a place it was never meant to be. I bit my lip and held my breath as I felt the exquisite pressure of his touch on my pussy. A thin strip of material kept us technically separated, but it was a very small technicality.

"I might take that as a sign to keep going," Denver whispered. "If a girl wanted me to stop at this point, she should probably say something to that effect."

I had to start breathing again, but my lips remained resolutely sealed. It was true I wasn't saying anything to stop him. That wasn't quite the same as giving him permission, or asking him to do anything, but I was hardly an innocent. I was more than playing along; in many ways it was my game. I just wasn't quite sure what game it was, or what the rules were.

Regardless of my internal confusion or my external air of indifference, Denver's fingers never stopped. His little circles had become far more interesting now that he'd reached such a sensitive area. The pressure of his touch had increased as well. It felt... nice. Not amazing or life-changing, nor indeed dirty or shameful. It was simply a pleasant sensation, and I was happy to let my brother keep doing it.

"You're getting hard," I said. "I can see it."

Denver's fingers hesitated just for a split-second. "Should I take my pants off too?"

I thought about it, then shook my head. "No. I don't think so. I'm not ready for that."

Denver gave me a curious look. "Why? It wouldn't have to mean anything. Nothing more than your pants being off." He paused. "Or is it because I'd be hard, and it'd be... quite visible."

"Partly, I guess. Mostly it's just different. I'm used to being looked at and it not meaning anything to me. It just happens. But when I look... it means something. You know?"

"Not really."

I looked away. "Maybe that's silly. I mean we're... we're doing kinda bad things already, aren't we?"

Denver shook his head firmly. "Doesn't have to be bad. Doesn't have to be anything. We're just, like, hanging out."

That was totally false. We weren't just hanging out. But... it was a convenient story to tell ourselves. That was not without value.

"Alright." I nodded. "Hanging out."

"One of us more than the other," Denver said under his breath.

My brother's touch became surer and firmer as the minutes passed. Partly I had the sense that he was waiting for me to decide it was too much, or that it needed to stop. Another, smaller part of me felt like I was being seduced. If Denver rubbed me only a tiny little bit harder at a time, then I could hardly find any reason to protest. If that was, in fact, his plan, then it was working. He was practically masturbating me through my panties, and I was reclining casually like nothing was happening.

The feigned nonchalance got harder and harder to maintain. Denver was doing things to me that made me want to react. I wanted to move my hips, maybe press more firmly against his hand. I wanted more, essentially. There was no way I could say so without letting him know how much he was getting to me. It would have meant dropping the pretense, and I wasn't ready for that.

It took an awful lot of effort to remain still and outwardly unaffected. My panties were damp; I could feel it without looking. Denver knew it too, or I assumed he did because all he was doing was staring at and touching my pussy by that point. Other than that, I gave him no sign that I was enjoying his touch. It was important to me for some reason; like somehow it made everything else ok.

Denver pulled the top of my panties down just far enough for the top of my slit to peek out. He did it so smoothly that I didn't even realize it until a few seconds later. I bit my lip hard enough to actually hurt to stop from gasping at the audacity of it.

"No hair, huh?" he said.

"Fucking perv."

"That's where the perv line is at now, is it?"

I turned my head away. "Whatever." Then, because I felt compelled to explain myself. "I just like the way it looks better."

"Me too. I'm just a little surprised you'd go through the effort, unless... there was someone worth putting in the effort for."

I flushed. It really had nothing to with Denver, but now he probably thought it did. Or maybe he'd think it was about another boy. I wasn't sure which was worse.

"Not everything's about the way I look to other people, you know."

"Sure, sure. But how much time do you really spend looking at...."

"My vagina?" I looked Denver dead in the eye, using the full extent of a sudden burst of confidence. I'd detected some hesitation in his speech, and it reassured me that I wasn't any more out of my depth than he was. "Fine. You're right. I don't look at it that much."

I was gratified that my brother was the one to redden and turn away this time. It was actually kind of adorable, though I wasn't in quite the right mood to appreciate it.

"That's ok," he said. "I just--"

"I like the way it feels, ok?"

Denver was blushing furiously. I smiled in the satisfaction that was winning this round. Whatever that meant.

"I like it too," he said quietly.

His fingers slipped into my panties. I wasn't prepared for it even though I'd spent the last several minutes wondering if he'd actually go that far. Turned out he would. I couldn't stifle my gasp fast enough this time. My brother was actually touching me directly; nothing between us. I closed my eyes and leaned back a little more.

"Relly!"

My eyes flashed open. Mom's voice from upstairs? What--

"Relly! Are you downstairs?!"

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck." I scrambled off the bed and away from Denver's exquisitely sinful caress. "Fucking goddamn fuck."

My pants wouldn't cooperate and it took me far longer to pull them on that it should have. Denver watched impassively from his seat on the bed.

"That's some timing," he said.

"Don't start with me."

"I wasn't. I was just saying--"

"Fuckfuckfuck. Jesus fuck."

I was still swearing as I climbed the stairs. My voice grew quieter until it was less than a whisper by the time I made it back to the main floor. Of course I couldn't be allowed to just experience the moment. Of course I couldn't actually have something that felt nice. That wasn't how my life went. Maybe Fay had been right all those times she talked about me needing a boy. Obviously this wasn't quite what she meant, but still.

"What, Mom?"

I carefully modulated my tone so that it came out curious rather than irritated. I could only imagine trying to explain that she'd interrupted my very first fingering from my brother. The thought actually gave me pause. First fingering? Like there'd be a second? I had to shake the thought from my head. I couldn't handle it right now.

"Did you leave this mess all over the living room?"

Aw, shit. I'd laid the foundation for my own ruin. That seemed about right.

"Yeah, sorry. I was doing homework, and I just went to take a break...." I sighed. "Sorry. I'll clean it up."

Mom's face softened and she shook her head. "No, don't worry about it. It's ok if it's for school. I shouldn't have yelled for you. It should have been obvious that's what it was." She waved her hand at my books and papers. "I just came home and saw a disaster area, is all."

"Uh... ok then."

I rubbed my arm awkwardly. I was still on edge from Denver rubbing me, and I desperately wanted to run back downstairs and make him do it some more. For various reasons, that was out of the question. The moment had passed, and I didn't want Mom to wonder why I was so eager to hang out in my brother's room.

"I'm sorry if I've been too hard on you lately, sweetie," Mom said.

"Nah, it's fine."

"I don't think it is. But then, I find it's very hard to read you these days. It was so much easier when you were little."

I pushed my hair back and shrugged. "I mean, I guess I could use more space sometimes. And about my name...."

Mom's shoulders sagged slightly. "I know, you don't like it. I really wish you'd give it more of a chance. It's such a beautiful name."

"I've had eighteen years to 'give it a chance,' Mom. Being named after a Disney princess is never gonna be my thing."

"Oh, now...." Mom took a breath. "You know very well you're named after your great-grandmother."

"Yeah, and maybe it was fine back in her day. Not very many 'Esmeraldas' around anymore, gotta tell ya."

For lack of anything better to do, I got down on my knees and started gathering up my things. Mom knelt down next to me and helped.

"You know why we started calling you Relly, don't you?"

"'Cause of Den, right?"

"That's right. He couldn't pronounce your name at first. Called you 'Ess-muh-relly.' We had to shorten it for him, poor little guy."

I smiled at the thought of my tiny brother trying to work his way through my monstrosity of a name. "Thank goodness he wasn't a speech prodigy."

Mom looked askance at me, but she was still smiling and didn't chastise me again. "I love you, you know," she said.

"I know, Mom. Love you too."

****

Denver didn't join me for nighttime tv watching. I couldn't really blame him, but it still stung a little. It felt like a rejection of some sort, even though I was, like, ninety-five percent sure it wasn't. Maybe things were just a bit too weird for him, or maybe....

I giggled to myself at the thought that my big brother was in his room jerking off while thinking about me. It was such an absurd image in my head. He'd gotten a decent feel of my pussy, and maybe that would be enough. I wasn't really entirely certain how it worked with boys and their masturbation habits.

There was no way, though. No way Denver had locked himself in his room and stripped down, then lay back on his bed and thought about me. No way. Probably.

I drove myself kind of crazy obsessing over the possibility. And for all that, I wasn't sure how I felt about it. After the initial amusement wore off, it actually made me a little bit anxious. Like, how fucked up did it make me that I was thinking so much about it. Even worse, what kind of girl actually just sat still and let her brother finger her?

I poured myself a whole hand of scotch and sat by myself in a dark living room. I sipped my drink and browsed Netflix for something to take my attention off my actual life. A show about a mom who starts eating people saved the day. It was funnier than it had a right to be, and actually got me laughing despite my turbulent emotional state.

It just wasn't the same by myself. It was still fun, but a couple evenings with Denver had spoiled me. I liked sitting, and sometimes cuddling, with my brother. I liked sharing one of my favourite shows with him. It was going to really, really suck if it turned out that had been ruined.

****

At school the next day, I had a few problems. I'd managed to skip breakfast due to sheer lack of time, and didn't have any food with me for much the same reason. My other, somewhat related problem, was my best friend.

"There is no way I'm letting you eat cafeteria food," Fay told me.

She physically blocked my path, and I didn't feel up to forcing my way past her. My tummy was seriously complaining, and I was too cranky from low blood sugar to finesse my way through.

"I understand what you're saying," I said. "Normally I wouldn't. But I NEED to eat."

"Then we'll go somewhere. Even fast food's better than the shit they serve here. I tried the pizza once...." Fay stopped and shuddered at the memory.

"I know. I was there. It was... disturbing."

"So you see my point." Fay took my arm and pointed adventurously forward. "To the car!"

"M'not supposed to," I mumbled. "Don't have permission to leave school grounds and whatever."

"Oh, pff. No one checks. Long as you're back for next period, you're golden."

"I don't know...." My tummy grumbled audibly, rather undercutting my argument. "Alright, fine. But we're gonna be quick, right?"

"In and out. Promise."

And that was how I found myself being driven out of the school parking lot in the middle of the day. It wasn't a particularly rebellious gesture in the overall scheme of things. Next to getting seriously felt up by my brother, it shouldn't have even registered. In the moment, however, it was just one more abnormality I had to try and reconcile with my internal vision of what my life was.

My hunger ended up overwhelming my other concerns by the time we made it to the nearest fast food place. I was out of Fay's car and heading for the entrance before she'd shut off the engine. She only caught up with me because I had to wait in line behind someone before I got to the counter.

"Two burgers," I said once it was my turn.

The guy behind the counter tilted his head slightly. "Ok, what kind--"

"Two burgers. Quickly please. You have no idea how little I care what's on them."

"I don't want a burger, actually," Fay said.

"That's fine. I--"

"I'll have fries, I think. Maybe a medium order of fries."

"Ok, but--"

"Or a large? Do you want any fries, Relly? We could split them."

I turned back to the bemused cashier. "Two burgers and a large fries." I held out a twenty dollar bill. "Here is a money. Please put the damn order in. You haven't pressed any buttons yet."

"Well--" said the burger guy.

"Maybe a diet coke too," mused Fay. "I could go for--"

"Fay, I'm going to gnaw off your arm if you don't shut up and let me get my food."

"So, two plain hamburgers, a large fries, and a diet coke?" said the guy. "Is that right?"

"Yes, thanks," I said, still hopefully thrusting my money at him.

"What size drink would you like?"

I stared at him in a mixture of hatred and amazement that I couldn't get a simple order through. Fay was losing it behind me. I tried in vain to ignore her stifled giggling.

The girl at the next register had become free, so I slid over in front of her instead.