Sisterhood of Traveling Panties Ch. 08
Keywords: Traveling, Sisterhood, Ch., Panties, 08, of,
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Part Eight
By the time I got the magical panties, things had already reached a plateau with me and Christine. My father and her mother spent most of their time planning the wedding, leaving me and Christine plenty of time to talk. It turned out that she was an aspiring writer like me. I showed her some of my stories, and she told me what parts she liked and gave me tips on ways to improve the things she didn't like.
I also saw some of her stories. She specialized in romance. I read some of her short stories and found them really beautiful, but very enticing. She had a gift for language, especially in the sex scenes. I told her they were nice and well-written, but late at night, I would read the stories again and run my fingers down to stroke my wetness, timing my orgasm for the moment of climax in the stories. Christine looked like an innocent young girl, but she had the imagination of a dirty slut, and I loved it.
I longed to explore those fantasies in real-life with her, but I kept having to remind myself that we would soon be family members. The tiny shorts and halter tops that Christine wore around the house didn't help, and neither did the hole in my bedroom wall. Late at night, I would sneak up to it and watch Christine as she dressed and undressed, peeling off her simple white panties and bras to expose the tiny mounds of flesh on her chest and firm, smooth cheeks of her ass. She would dance to music on her stereo, watch television, and read books, all while in the nude. I would huddle against the wall, my eye pressed up against it, with one hand between my legs and another stroking my nipples, imagining my hands were hers.
My one distraction became the wedding. It wasn't going well. My father argued with Janice about almost everything. They couldn't decide on the church, the time of day, not even the color of the napkins at the reception. I didn't think this was going to be a match made in heaven, but I kept telling myself that it wasn't my business. My perceptions were surely being affected by the fact that I didn't like Janice, and I didn't like the idea of my father getting re-married. But I didn't want to interfere in my father's life, so I kept silent.
It seemed like they at least agreed in the bedroom. Every night while I was staying with them, after Christine went to sleep, I would go to the other wall and listen to the moans and creaking of my father and Janice in their bedroom. It sounded like they got along quite well in there.
I know what you're thinking. I'd become a peeping Tom, a voyeur getting her jollies off other people. I never used to be like that, really, but I didn't have any other outlet for my desires.
Then one day, I got the package. Brandy had wrapped up the panties in some butcher paper taped together. I tore into it to find those beautiful red panties inside. Some of the salt still clung to the waistband, and some leaves clung to the lace. I brought the panties to my nose and inhaled its scent of ocean salt and rich soil. And I could smell Cindy and Brandy's juices in the crotch. It turned me on so much, but also triggered a wave of loneliness. I miss you gals.
The package also contained Cindy and Brandy's letters. I read them that morning after breakfast, and lay back to run my hands over my breasts and butt. I traced circles along my thighs, then down further until my fingers toyed with my moistening slit. I picked up the letters and laid them down on the bed so I could read the sexiest parts side-by-side. My hands worked on my clit and nipples until I came, imagining myself on that boat floating off of Greece and in that cabin at soccer camp, cumming with those beautiful ladies. By the time I softened on my empty bed, I knew I had to do something. I couldn't stay alone anymore.
I packed up my suitcases quickly, and was just locking the last of them when my father walked in.
"Darling, where are you going?" my father asked me in Spanish.
I answered him in Spanish as I checked the inside of my purse to make sure it had everything. "Home, Papa. You don't need me here and I'm homesick."
My father took my hands and drew me into his arms. "I'm sorry, I know I've been ignoring you lately. It's just that the wedding is getting so complicated."
"I know. I understand. I just need to go. I'll be back for the wedding, I promise."
My father drew back to smile down at me. "Okay, but would you do me one favor? Janice just needs to get you fitted for your bridesmaid dress. Once that's done, I'll take you to the airport myself, okay?"
I bit my lip, wanting to tell him no, that I needed something between my legs so bad, I could scream. But instead, I just nodded. What else could I do?
So I rode in the SUV with Janice and Christine to the Precious Memories bridal shop in Beverly Hills. I stood aside, watching them fawn over the lace and chiffon, waiting for my moment to escape. But my mood changed when Christine came out of the fitting room. She looked so beautiful in her light pink bridesmaid dress that it took my breath away. She had a lacy choker that highlighted her swan-like neck perfectly.
I smiled. "You look gorgeus."
Christine lowered her eyes as she blushed. "Thank you."
Yet Janice shook her head and threw up her hands. "No, I don't like the way the skirt moves. It needs to be firmer. Let's see how you look in it, Maria."
I wasn't looking forward to it, but I knew the sooner I got it over with, the better. I took the dress she held out to me and headed for the changing room. After drawing the curtain, I began to squeeze into the dress. I tugged and pulled and grunting and cursed while pulling lace and orange fabric around me, but it seemed like every time I got one part of me in, another part popped out. My long black hair kept getting tangled up in the collar, and the dress felt like it weighed fifty pounds, so I kept having to stop and rest.
Finally, the curtain drew back and Christine poked her head in. "You need any help?"
I looked up at her, realizing how I must have looked standing there in my black bra and red panties with one leg inside the dress' skirt and one arm tangled in the puffy sleeve. "Yeah, I guess I could."
Christine stepped inside and drew the curtain behind me. She had changed out of her dress back into her tight shorts and blue T-shirt that read "Princess" in sparkly lettering. Christine held up one sleeve for me to get into.
As I pulled the dress on, I glanced over at Christine. She looked down at my body, clad only in underwear, and I thought I saw something in her eyes. The way they roamed over my small breasts and large hips seemed familiar, the way I looked at her. But I thought that had to be my imagination.
"Those panties are so pretty," Christine said.
"I know. Gift from my Mom."
As I finally struggled into the top half, I stepped into the skirt and Christine began to zip it up. As it had many times before, the zipper came to a halt right at the part where my legs met my ass.
I grinned. "I guess this dress wasn't made for Puerto Ricans. I just wanna yell out, 'Hello, I have an ass?'"
Christine giggled. "I guess it does need to be adjusted there. I'll tell Mom."
I turned around to face her. "This dress was made for you, though. You're so beautiful and slender."
Christine looked down at her tennis shoes while her cheeks reddened. "Oh, I'm not that pretty. You're the pretty one. You look like Jennifer Lopez. But with a nicer body."
"Oh, that's so sweet of you to say." I found my thighs tingling from the tension as I moved towards her. The temperature seemed to be rising in that small dressing room. "But you're the pretty one. Your hair, your eyes, your body. It's very nice."
I let my hands drift up Christine's shoulder to cup her left cheek. I held her face up to look at me. Our eyes met. I had felt goosebumps on her arm. The look in her eyes erased all doubt. I leaned closer to her. She stiffened, but her lips parted slightly. I could feel her quickening breath on my face as I moved in. She didn't pull away. This was the moment I had waited so long for.
I kissed her lips and tasted cherry from her lipstick. She returned the kiss, pushing against me. She let go of the back of my dress and it slid down my arms and legs to pool on the floor. I moved up to press my body against hers. Our breasts fit up against each other perfectly. It felt like a dream as my arms slipped around her waist to pull her up against me. Her hands ran up my spine to draw me close.
Christine tore her lips away from mine and took a step back. She pressed her fingers against her mouth as she blurted, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that."
I had waited too long for this moment. I wasn't going to let it end that easily. I moved towards her, wearing only the bra and magical panties. "Yes, you did. We both meant to do that. I've been wanting to do that since I met you."
Christine's brow wrinkled. Her fingers trembled against her mouth. "Me, too, Maria. I was hoping something would happen between us. Can I tell you something? I saw your picture before you got here. And I wanted you. I even drilled a hole in the wall between our bedrooms so I could watch you. You're not mad, are you?"
I laughed. "No, of course not. I'm glad you did. I was watching you, too."
"I know. I mean, I was hoping you would. I sat up naked every night, imagining you watching me. And when I turned off the lights, I would play with myself thinking about you. Oh, Maria, I've never...been with a girl before. Except I want to be with you."
"I do, too." I stopped myself and took a step back. "But we can't. We're gonna be stepsisters. That's...just not right."
"I know, I know. I'm sorry." Christine brought her hands up to cover her face. "I tried so hard to keep it inside."
"Me, too." I picked up the dress off the floor and hung it on a hanger. "Let's...just pretend this didn't happen, okay?"
We both froze at the sound of screaming outside. We stuck our heads out of the curtain to see Christine's mother standing in an aisle of wedding dresses.
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Keywords: Traveling, Sisterhood, Ch., Panties, 08, of,