Her Stuff


Matthew lay on his bed, wondering what music would be best suited to drowning out the sound of his older sister Tessa singing tunelessly along in the next room to whatever crappy, pappy 1980s retro pop she had on her iPod. He had got used to her being away at University and suddenly here she was, home for Christmas, intrusive in what had become his world. Oh God, what was this now, Duran Duran?

“The re-flex is an only chiiild, da daa da dada daaa!”

Then it all went quiet for a second. There was a knock on his bedroom door. “Matty, have you got a minute?”

“I’m Matt or Matthew, not bloody Matty! Makes me sound like a child!”

“Whatever. Can I come in?”

“Yeah. Do I have a choice?”

“Not really!” Tessa said brightly as she opened the door. “Matt, I know this sounds weird, but … well, Mum said she hadn’t needed to use my room as a guest room while I was at college, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Have you had any friends staying?”


“Oh, right. ‘Cause it somehow looks like some of my stuff has been moved or messed with – not sure exactly what, yet. Do you know anything about that?”

“No, why should I?”

“Hmm, maybe I’m wrong. Whatever. Forget it.” She left the room and closed the door. “Her name is Rio and she dances on the saaaaand ….”

Silence again. Another knock. “Matt.”

“What, for God’s sake?”

Again she entered the room. “Look Matthew, I’m not being funny but something’s happened in there. My clothes cupboard isn’t how I left it. And my underwear drawer is messed up. I mean, I took most of my stuff with me to college but still left a fair bit here. Are you sure you don’t know anything?”

“Oh, right, that, yes. Er … yeah, I did go in there … I was … er … looking for a CD.”

“What the fuck? Since when would you want a CD of mine? You take great pleasure in despising my musical taste.”

“That old REM compilation. There’s some good stuff on there once you get past the obvious things. Which you never do.”

“Right, so you rummaged through my clothes and underwear in search of a CD which you mostly don’t like. Fucking hell, I haven’t missed living in the same house as you, Matt.”

She closed the door abruptly on the way out. “Girls on fiiiilm … girls on fiiiilm…”

Matt knew and dreaded what was going to happen next. No knock this time; she walked straight in.

“Right, this is not funny, Matthew. And I can’t believe I’m about to ask you this. Among the things I didn’t take with me to University was a particular bra which I want to wear when I go out tonight. It was in my underwear drawer. It isn’t there now. Do you know anything about this?”

“Why should I know about your bra?”

“I actually hope you don’t. But have you maybe seen it around? Like maybe Mum put it somewhere by mistake?”

“What does it look like?”

“Oh, so you’re an expert on bra typology now, are you? Well, this one is black satin, opaque. That means not see-through. It’s a deep plunge one with a little jewel at the centre where the cups join. The cups are slightly padded. It’s designed to be semi visible under a sheer top. Which is what I want to wear when I go out with Jenny and Sarah tonight.” She conveyed this rather intimate information in a completely matter of fact manner.


“Matty you are pathetic. You can’t embarrass me, you stupid kid. It’s a 34E, like all my bras have been for years, OK? Hold the front page! Twenty-year-old woman has breasts! Christ, I can’t believe you’re eighteen sometimes.”

“Why do you want to show your bra off when you’re out with the girls? You hoping to pull?”

“If you really want to know: I broke up with Chris a month ago. Jenny and Sarah have both had a tough time too. We haven’t seen each other for months and we just want to have a nice night out, and part of that, for normal adult women, Matty, is about looking good. Not to attract men, just to look good and feel good and have a nice time. Not that you have a clue about normal adult women, you sad little weirdo. It’s like you got stuck at thirteen.”

“Yeah, well, as you’ve asked me so politely I will keep a sharp eye out for a particularly slutty looking bra. Was that all, Miss Howard? I am rather busy …”

“Yeah right. Cheeky little sod.” She was just about to leave when something caught her denizli escort eye, protruding from under Matt’s bed. Surely not …

“Matthew …”

“What now?”

“I am looking at what appears to be a black bra strap, sticking out from under your bed. I am going to pick it up. I hope for your sake it is not what I think it is.”

He froze. She stooped. When she stood up, a black satin plunge bra, size 34E, was dangling by one strap from her finger.

“Please Matt, I mean it, please tell me there is a normal explanation for this …”

The bra turned slowly as it hung from her finger until the insides of the cups faced her. She stared at it. “No. No, no, NO! Tell me this isn’t happening!” She held the bra up with the inside towards Matthew, spoke very coldly, with fury in her eyes. “Matt, I really hope you’re going to tell me something like when you were looking for the CD in my room you were eating a pot of yogurt, and you accidentally spilt some of the yogurt into the cups of my bra, and you took it into your room because you wanted to take responsibility for getting it clean, which you have not done yet, which is why the bra was under your bed and there are big white stains inside it. Are you going to tell me that?”

He said nothing.

“Or are you going to tell me that the stains are your filthy, stinking cum and that you, you vile little pervert, have been masturbating into your older sister’s underwear?”

He could not meet her eyes. She exploded with rage, let out a long yell. “You sick, sick, sick little FUCKER!! You perverted little PIG!! Fuck fuck FUCK I do not believe this is happening!! As soon as Mum gets home from town I’m telling her!! And I’m telling her I can’t live under the same roof as you! I’ll go and stay with Jenny or something, or go back to college, or you can go and live on the FUCKING streets with all the other FUCKING losers and perverts. Fucking HELL I hope they lock you up. You shouldn’t be allowed to live with normal people you little SHIT!!”

They both burst into tears, not able to look at each other. Tessa slumped down the wall and sat on the floor with her head on her knees, sobbing. Matthew stared blankly ahead, weeping silently.

After what seemed like hours, Tessa got up, dried her eyes on the sleeve of her sweater, and sat next to Matthew on the bed. “What the fuck are we going to do with you, Matty?” she said in a half whisper, surprisingly tender. “What’s wrong with you? It’s OK, I won’t really tell Mum, it’ll just freak her out. Actually she’ll probably blame me for daring to own nice underwear and blatantly displaying it in my own cupboard. But we can’t just let this pass, Matty. This is so wrong.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Tess.”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend, have you, Matt?”


“That’s not healthy, though, is it? I mean – I’m serious now, Matt – you’re a good looking boy, you’re fit and athletic, you’re very very intelligent – much brighter than me – you’ve got a brilliant, sharp sense of humour. I’ve seen you sometimes when you’re charming and funny and charismatic, and to be honest I can see why lots of girls would be interested. But most of the time you put on this act, the moody, surly, misunderstood outsider, the misfit. Not letting anyone near you. Spiky, rude, uncommunicative. And I think you’ve done this so much now that you’ve even convinced yourself you’re some kind of weird outcast. Not normal. And I guess it’s not such a big step from there for you to tell yourself that you’re the kind of person who wanks into his sister’s bra. You’re not really that person, Matt. You’re not a real pervert, you’re playing at being one and you don’t even know it.” He looked at her through eyes blurred by tears. She continued. “I bet you look at a lot of porn, don’t you?”

“Ye … yes.”

“So all the women in your life are literally two-dimensional. Patterns of pixels. Not real. And even the images on the screen are of artificial, unnatural things: silicone tits, hairless pussies, men with freakishly giant cocks who seem to stay erect for hours at a time, badly dubbed moaning, cum shots badly edited in. I’ve seen this stuff, Matt. It has its uses but it’s not real life. What about warmth, scent, Matty, a real voice, the way a real woman moves and speaks, the beauty of a real, natural woman?”

“I diyarbakır escort know … that’s why …”

“My bra was the closest connection you could get to a real woman, right? Oh Matty, Matty, you poor, sad little boy …”

They sat in silence for a while. Then Tessa reached across and took hold of Matt’s left wrist. She drew his hand towards her, placed it gently on her right breast, and kept it there. He looked at her, startled.

“It’s OK, Matty, just hold it there for a while.”

She was wearing a loose, knitted cotton sweater which rather hid her figure, and under that a bra. But still he could feel the weight and softness of her breast, the small movement of her breathing, perhaps the slightest hardening of her nipple.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it, Matty?” He could not speak. “They’re natural,” she continued, quietly. “Big and soft and heavy. They move with me. They need a good bra to support them, and that’s more expensive in the bigger cup sizes. They bounce when I run, which is why I don’t run much, and swim to exercise. They swell a bit before my period, feel tender. They make my back ache sometimes. The nipples get hard when it’s cold, or when I’m horny, or for no reason. They’re real breasts, Matty. Three dimensional. Living. You like them?”

Almost inaudibly: “Yes … yes …”

“Would you like to see them?”


She stood up, facing him. She pulled the sweater over her head and off, revealing a burgundy-coloured lacy bra on her pale torso. She reached behind herself, unhooked the bra, placed it on a chair. She stood with her hands on her hips, drawing her shoulders back and down to push her naked chest out. She was not much above five feet tall, with a slim, well proportioned frame, and those great breasts jutting provocatively towards her brother. He was spellbound, open-mouthed, breathing hoarsely. Tessa could see a bulge in his sweatpants. She spoke very softly. “Nice to look at, aren’t they, Matty?” He could not speak. “Would you like to suck them?”

He knelt upright on the floor in front of her; it brought his face level with her chest. He took one breast gently in both hands, guided it to his mouth and started to suck, softly but insistently. She stroked his head, whispered to him. “That’s right, Matty, have a nice suck. Your big sister’s big titties, eh? All nice and warm and soft with big thick nipples. So nice for you to suck. Just like you’ve wanted for years, Matty.” He let the one breast slip from his mouth and moved to suck the other. They stayed like this, silent, Matthew moving every so often from one breast to the other, for a long time.

After a while, Tessa reached down, took his hand and placed it in her crotch as she stood with feet apart. Even through the thick denim of her jeans Matthew could feel the heat of her arousal, perhaps even dampness. He began to detect a heavy, musky scent. “Can you smell that, Matty? That’s my pussy, getting turned on, getting wet.” She rubbed her crotch against his hand. He could definitely feel moisture now. “Would you like to see that, too?” She did not wait for a reply, but stepped back so he let go of her breast with his mouth. She held his shoulders, guided him to sit up on the bed again. She took off her jeans, and the plain black panties she was wearing, and stood before him completely naked. “There, you see? Big sister’s hairy pussy.” Her pubes were dark brown, luxuriant, trimmed just enough for a swimsuit. “Not like on the internet, eh, Matty? Not like those shaved doll-women you’ve been looking at. A real woman’s hairy cunt.” She stepped closer to him, placed his hand between her legs again. “Be very very gentle, Matty, everything there is very sensitive, but you can explore, have a nice feel.”

Very very tentatively he probed the soft wet convolutions of her flesh with his fingertips. She carried on whispering. “Not just a slit and a hole, is it, Matty? It’s a special, secret place, folds within folds, all wet and warm. That … just there … that’s my clit. Be ever so careful there. Aah, yes, that’s nice, good boy Matty. You’re good, Matty, gentle and sensitive. Your girlfriends will like you for it one day. Move your hand a bit further in … yes … that’s it … your middle finger is just on the opening, just there. Small, isn’t it? Amazing to think antalya escort that a man’s cock can fit in there. But I get so wet it slips in, no problem. Careful … careful … that’s it, back to my clit, you can feel I like that … good boy Matty, good boy … I bet you’d like to put your cock inside me, wouldn’t you, Matty, eh? You’d like to feel all that warm soft flesh wrapped tightly round your prick?”

He was beyond speech now. His cock was straining and chafing against the inside of his underpants.

“Get undressed and lie on the bed, Matty.”

Hurriedly he stripped off the jogging pants, sweatshirt, underpants. He lay on his back, his cock jutting grotesquely from his slim, naked body.

“Gosh, Matty, you’ve got a nice one. Big, and nice and thick. You’ll fuck lots of girls with that, Matty, they will love your big thick cock. But first of all you’re going to fuck your big sister.”

She climbed on to the bed and straddled him, kneeling upright. She took his cock in her hand and used the tip of it to tease herself for a while, rubbing it along the slick cleft of her cunt. Then a slight change of position, an instant’s pause as she got the spot just right, and she bore down strongly on him, taking him all the way inside her. He let out a whimpering moan. She reared up above him, breasts swinging, and ground her hips slowly and sensually. He could feel her wetness on his balls, the tight grip of her vagina on his shaft, the head of his cock so deep inside her. She began a steady rocking motion, creating friction on his glans in the depths of her body.

“You like that, Matty? You like fucking your big sister’s tight wet cunt?”

She reached down with one hand, worked her middle finger between her pubis and his to find her clit, started to frig herself as she rode him. Her movements got faster, less gentle, less about teaching him and more about pleasuring herself. She rode him hard now, frigged herself hard, bucked her hips up and down on his cock, whimpered, gasped, and came.

She yelled as the orgasm hit her. “Oh fuck, oh my fucking God, oh Matty Matty I’m coming, oh fucking yes, oh your fucking cock, oh yes!” Her vagina throbbed and pulsed around his dick. It was too much. He groaned loudly as what felt like the most cum he had ever produced in his life spilled from his straining cock deep, deep inside her cunt, inside his sister’s body. More spasms, aftershocks for both him and her. Her cunt seemed to want to squeeze the last drops from him, seemed greedy for his cum.

Silence. Still she sat upright, on top of him. His erection just began to subside. He could feel that it was bathed with his own sperm, inside her.

“Matty, could you pass me some tissues?”

He reached to the tissue box at his bedside, grabbed a handful and passed them to her. Slowly she dismounted from him, immediately pressing a tissue to her crotch as the cum started to flow from her. She knelt with her legs apart, dabbing and wiping at herself. His cock was still swollen, and sticky from her juices and his spunk. He lay quite still and looked at her. She got off the bed and tenderly placed the bedclothes over his naked body. “I think you need to lie quietly for a bit, Matty. Let it all sink in.”

She put her clothes on. He watched every move as her glorious body was concealed again under cotton and denim. “I’m going to go and finish sorting out my things, Matty. We will not do this again, you understand that, don’t you?”

“Yes … yes of course. Er … Tessa …”


“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, Matty.” Her voice, while still calm, now had a steely edge to it. “You really shouldn’t thank me. You don’t get it, do you? I have ruined your sex life forever, before it’s had a chance to even start. Every time you get near a girl now, you will think about fucking me. Your sister. You start going out with someone, it’s her first time, she asks you if it’s yours, you think no, I’ve fucked my sister. You’re at college, drinking with the lads, swapping sexual anecdotes, what about you, Matty? You’re the boy who fucked his sister. You get into a relationship, you get to that stage where you’re telling each other about exes and first times. And yours? Your sister. You will never, ever have any kind of a normal relationship. The image of the time you fucked your sister will never leave you. It will be there every time you masturbate. Every time you look at a pretty girl, the picture of me riding your cock will blot her out. You may not have been a pervert before, but you are now. Because you have fucked your sister. Don’t cry, Matty, that does no good. You shouldn’t have messed with my stuff, Matty. Shouldn’t have touched my stuff.”

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