Author: Jack
Keywords: .
Summary: Jenny visits her younger brother now he's in college. Unfortunately he's in a fraternity with some fellows of very dubious character..
Jenny parked her rental car at the curb, opened the door, and got out slowly, careful to check that none of her clothes had been caught on anything inside the car. She closed the door just as heedfully, double-checking to be sure her coat was well clear of the opening. These kinds of precautions were becoming second-nature to Jenny at long last, though if she was distracted or rushed she sometimes forgot herself . . . frequently with disturbing results. But it had been more than a week now since the last time she had suffered one of her little accidents, and Jenny was starting to think that she might just have her problem under control at last.
Tonight, though, she was feeling a little bit paranoid. She carefully scanned the car door and her long fawn-colored coat to make sure everything was as it should be before she stepped away from the car. She was so intent on her precautions that she very nearly stepped directly into the path of an oncoming pickup truck, jumping back as its horn blared warning. That rattled her . . . but, still, all it gave her was a fright. Jenny could remember times when such a blunder might have resulted in a dress snagged on the passing vehicle’s bumper, with disastrous results.
She forced herself to stand still and calm down. Being so jumpy was only likely to get her into trouble, and that was the last thing she needed.
Jenny knew why she was feeling so unsettled. It was the thought of seeing her brother again. It wasn’t as if she didn’t like her brother. Roger was a pretty good guy, mostly. But she hadn’t been around him much, save for a few stuffy family get-togethers, since she had gone away to college seven years ago . . . and that last summer, when she was barely eighteen and he was still a hell-raising fourteen-year-old, had held it’s traumatic moments. Like the time Roger and his friends had gotten a little carried away with the games they had been playing with their squirt guns, and Jenny had ended up tied up and stripped naked . . . .
Roger had apologized for the incident more than once, and Jenny had forgiven him. But she still got a little nervous around Roger and his friends, and the memory of that embarrassing day could still make Jenny blush as few of her other unfortunate mishaps since then did.
Jenny forced those upsetting thoughts from her mind. Tonight she had a chance to spend some time with her kid brother again, and by God she wasn’t going to let some seven-year-old mishap ruin the evening. When she had learned that a business trip would be taking her to the quiet little college town where Roger attended State Tech, she had called him up and arranged to take him to dinner. They’d have a lovely evening catching up on each others’ lives, and maybe after this she wouldn’t be quite as nervous around him.
She straightened up, looked both ways, and started to walk towards the big house on the corner, only to stop as she felt an all-too-familiar tug at the back of her coat. Jumping back to dodge the pickup, she had somehow got the hem fouled in the wheel well, and a less sturdy garment might have ripped. Luckily the coat was intact, so Jenny carefully disentangled it and then started forward again.
Roger was a member of the Eta Delta Pi fraternity, and the frat house was a large, slightly battered-looking old Victorian townhouse that frowned over the street like a grim old fortress. As Jenny approached the front steps, a blast of music shook the entire neighborhood, causing a dog at the far end of the street to start barking and making Jenny feel like she was standing near ground zero at a bomb test. Well, that was college life, she reminded herself. Four years of loud music, wild parties, and the occasional all-night cram study session to make up for the nights wasted partying or listening to loud music.
She had just reached the door and was about to ring the bell when the door jerked open and a tall, gangly-looking youth stared at her in surprise. "Hey, you’re not the pizza dude!" he said, hardly audible over the music.
"No . . . I’m Jenny. Roger Taylor’s sister. Is he ready to go?"
The young man’s face split into a grin and he gave Jenny a long look that raked her from head to foot, with a long stop at the 38CC breasts even her coat couldn’t quite disguise. "Hey, all right!" he said. "Excellent! Come on in, and I’ll get Roger!"
Primly, Jenny stepped inside, not meeting those roving eyes as she tried hard not to blush. She really hated being the center of attention, especially male attention, and despite her many unfortunate encounters over the years she remained just as shy and modest as ever.
She watched the young man disappear into the bowels of the house, calling Roger’s name and saying something about "the entertainment." Then more music drowned out everything.
It took a few minutes for Roger to come to the foyer. He stood 6’1" tall, with boyishly handsome features and the same blonde hair and blue eyes as his sister, plus a moustache and short, curly beard that gave him a raffish, almost piratical look. To Jenny’s surprise he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt that said "I Lost My Shirt at IndianOutlaw’s," and held a can of beer in one hand and a bag of potato chips in another. "Hey, Sis!" he said heartily. "Welcome to Eta House!"
"What’s going on, Roger?" she demanded. "I thought we were going out to dinner?"
He nodded, looking unhappy. "Look, Jen, I’m really sorry. Big mix-up on dates. When I set things up with you last week, I thought our big parrty was TOMORROW night. Man, was I screwed when I found out!"
"Can’t you miss it, Roger? I mean, there’ll be other frat parties . . ."
"Can’t do it, Sis," he said, shaking his head. "I’m in charge of the entertainment tonight. Tell you what, though, why don’t you stick around a little while. Take your coat off, have a beer, enjoy yourself . . . and soon as I decently can I’ll stick somebody else with the job and you and I can get going. Okay?"
"Well . . ." She wasn’t enthusiastic about the idea. She was only a few years out of college herself, but she felt so OLD and out of place here. The music was too loud, she wasn’t all that fond of beer, and she didn’t have the faintest idea what she would talk about with a bunch of wild-looking frat guys . . . But he WAS her brother, and she owed him a little flexibility. "Okay," she said at last. "But try to hurry, will you? I don’t think I’m up to this wild college night life any more."
"Yeah, my old married Sis, all settled down and turning into a stick-in-the-mud." Roger grinned at her. "C’mon, Jen, live a little! Or does that husband of yours have you on a tight leash all the time?"
She frowned at that and shook her head vaguely, but Roger didn’t seem to notice. He kept right on talking. "Take off the coat, Jen, and get comfortable."
Jenny slipped out of the coat and handed it to her brother, who opened the closet door behind him and found a hanger. While he was taking care of the coat Jenny took a moment to check her wardrobe and make sure nothing was out of place. She was wearing the same outfit she had worn to her business meeting earlier that day, a dark skirt that came down below her knees, white blouse, and a navy blue blazer. With a slip, tights, and a brand new heavy-duty brassiere on underneath, she felt fairly secure for a change. It would take an awful lot of accidents to embarrass her tonight, she thought. And if she was careful . . . .
Roger turned back from the closet and gave her the same kind of comprehensive, appreciative look his friend had given her before. He threw in an old-fashioned wolf whistle for emphasis. "My God, Sis, you are looking GOOD," he said.
She blushed. "Come on, Roger, knock it off," she said.
Grinning, he took her by the arm. "Okay, Sis, I’ll be good. But you’ll have to beat off the rest of the brothers with a stick, looking like that. C’mon, let’s go out back. The music’s not so loud there, and some of the guys are hanging out by the pool."
As he led her through the house, she had a confused impression of the party. It was mostly guys, she noticed, all of them at least half drunk and indulging in many of the usual frat antics. In one room a bunch of guys were gathered around a big man who was wearing a pair of jeans but no shirt with a shaved head and and a hairy chest that made him look like a little like a lowland gorilla. He was chug-a-lugging beer out of an enormous pitcher while the onlookers chanted "King . . . King . . . King . . ."
She tugged on Roger’s sleeve. "Don’t you guys have any supervision here? A faculty adviser, or a house mother, or something?"
He pointed through an open door into another room, where three more brothers were gathered around a table playing cards with a thirtyish woman with a trim figure and brown hair streaked with a little gray. "That’s Roxie," he bawled in her ear, over the music. "She’s our house mother!" Just then one of the guys laid his cards on the table with a grin, and Roxie, laughing, stood up and peeled off her shirt, revealing small but pert braless breasts.
Jenny looked away, blushing again. She would never understand how anyone could take off their clothes in front of other people that way. She had always been hard-pressed to appear naked in front of other women, in locker rooms in high school and college. And even after the many times she had been accidentally exposed in public, she was still absolutely mortified any time she was exposed to men other than her husband. Roger noticed her blush and chuckled. "Same old Jen," he commented.
He held the back door open for her, then followed her out to a small porch and down a flight of wooden steps to the pool area below. There were several guys lounging around the pool, sipping beers and swapping stories. There were also three in the pool, swimming, one of them fully dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. It took a few moments for Jenny to realize that one of the other two was skinny-dipping, and once again she looked away quickly and tried to control her blushes.
She was glad when one of the poolside loungers stood up and crossed to meet them. "Hey, Dodger!" he said. "Is this the sister you told us about? You said she was a babe, but you didn’t do her justice!"
This time Roger looked a little embarrassed. "Jen, this is Scott. He’s the president of Eta House. Scott, my sister Jenny."
He was giving her another of those admiring looks, and Jenny had to stop herself from looking down to make sure nothing was showing. The frat president had a way of undressing her with his eyes that she found very disturbing. But after a moment Roger guided her past Scott and was introducing some of the others. "That’s Prof over there in the red chair," he said. "Short for ‘The Professor.’ He’s my roommate, and our resident genius. Going to be a research chemist after he gets a couple of degrees. That’s Junior over there . . . and Johnny . . . Oh, and here comes the King!"
The big guy she had seen drinking the pitcher of beer inside had appeared on the steps. He looked even more menacing close-up as he reached out a massive paw to shake her hand."
"Hey, Jenny, why don’t you take a dip in the pool?" one of the other guys called out. He was a scruffly-looking sort, clad in a leather jacket and jeans, and idly doodling on a sketch pad. His voice had a distinct British accent.
She retrieved her hand from the King and turned back toward the pool, smiling nervously. "Sorry, guys," she said. "Didn’t come prepared. No suit."
The naked guy in the water tried to splash her. "Hey, no problem, babe," he said. "Who needs a swim suit?" Roger stepped forward hastily. "Now, come on, guys, knock it off. My sister’s not like the bimbos you apes usually bring here. She’s shy, okay?"
Jenny felt a warm glow for her brother. Maybe he had grown up a little bit since she had known him when they were both teens. It was so good of him to come to her defense against his frat brothers like this . . . .
A pair of big, beefy arms wrapped around her waist. "So, why not just go for a dip the way you are?" King’s voice broke in loudly. Holding on tight to her, he took two steps to the edge of the pool and jumped, dragging her with him. They hit the water together with a splash worthy of a small tidal wave.
The water was cold, and Jenny struggled desperately to free herself from the big man’s arms. He let go easily enough, but it was still a fight for her to get to the surface with her clothes becoming heavier by the second as the water soaked everything.
"How dare you!" she screamed as her head broke water. "You . . . you . . ." There was nothing she could call him that sounded nasty enough.
Roger rushed to the edge of the pool, near one of the ladders. "Jenny . . . I’m so sorry! Come over here . . . I’ll help you out."
With much splashing and struggling, Jenny maneuvered to the ladder and climbed out, Roger helping her from above. "I’m really sorry about this, Jen. I’ll make the King regret this for the rest of the semester! Are you okay?"
Sitting at the top of the ladder, with her legs dangling over the side of the pool and water streaming everywhere, Jenny forced herself to calm down. "I . . . I think so. Just scared, mostly. And WET!" She looked down, realizing that both her shoes were missing. Roger noticed at the same time. "I’ll make sure you get them back, Jen," he said. "And King’ll buy you a new pair, if they’re ruined."
She nodded vaguely. At least her layers of wet clothes hadn’t turned transparent, or anything like that, she thought. But she would have to be careful when she stood up. She could still remember what had happened that time she rode home on the bus after a rainstorm had soaked her clothes . . . .
"We’d better get you inside, Jen," Roger told her. "Find something you can wear while we run your stuff through the laundry. Okay?"
Jenny nodded again, reluctantly. She couldn’t spend the rest of the evening in wet clothes, and she wasn’t about to try driving back to her hotel in them. It would be just her luck to get to the lobby and have some wet, heavy thing fall off at just the wrong moment.
Clutching her skirt with one hand, she slowly got to her feet, with Roger helping her and continuing to murmur apologies and regrets as he led her back to the house, leaving a wet trail in her wake. He led her upstairs and into a bedroom, vacant but with plenty of signs of backelor habitation. One wall was decorated with centerfold pinups, and there was a pile of dirty clothes on the floor by the closet.
"I really am sorry about all this, Sis," Roger said, opening the closet door and rummaging around inside. "I guess he came by the nickname ‘King of Wrong’ legitimately. He’s always pulling practical jokes on people . . . but I never thought he’d do something like that to you!" He tossed her a thick, heavy towel.
"I don’t think I care for your friends much, Roger," Jenny told him primly, starting to dry her hair and dabbing ineffectually at her clinging blouse.
He shrugged and grinned. "They can be pretty wild sometimes, I guess. But they’re really okay most of the time, Sis. Even the King. Really." He pulled something out of the closet and held it out to her. "Look, this is one of Prof’s old bathrobes. It looks pretty substantial. Now you change into this and put those wet things into that basket over there, and when you come out I’ll get somebody to run it down to the basement and put everything in the dryer. Okay? Half hour, forty-five minutes tops, and you can put your stuff back on and we can bug out of here. How’s that sound?"
She looked at the robe and bit her lip. It seemed substantial enough, a big yellow terrycloth garment that would probably cover even more of her than her skirt and blazer combination. But Jenny was nervous. She’d really have to be careful, dressed in just a bathrobe in a house full of maniacs. "I guess so, Roger," she finally said, reluctantly.
"Okay, then, Sis, I’ll leave you to change in peace." He smiled at her, and she couldn’t help but smile back. Roger had turned into a thoughtful and supportive brother after all. A far cry from the teen who had gotten carried away with his squirt-gun "interrogation" seven years back. Maybe today’s misadventure had actually been all to the good, to let her learn how much he had changed.
Roger Taylor went down the stairs and into the big living room at the front of the house. Many of his frat brothers had already gathered there, including most of the gang from poolside. The King met him at the door, dripping a little from his swim, still mopping his chest and wet jeans with a towel. The music had been turned down, making conversation easier, and they could now hear the laughs as Roxie beat the pants off of one of her opponents in the neighboring room.
"She okay, Dodger?" he asked. Roger grinned.
"Just fine," he said. "And she doesn’t suspect a thing. Just keep acting sheepish when she’s around, like I’ve been chewing you out."
"Right," King said. Prof handed Roger a large, flat box with a row of switches and a joystick on it.
"Here’s your remote, Dodger," he said. "All set?"
"Yeah," Roger said with a grin. "I switched on the cameras and the VCR while I was getting the robe out. Biker, will you do the honors, please?"
The Brit in the leather jacket grinned and switched on the television. The brothers leaned forward, studying the image of Roger’s room and the pretty blonde in the wet clothes framed in the picture. Roger sat down on the couch and set the remote control box on his knees. The joystick controlled the camera mounted in the closet, so he could follow his sister’s movements through the room, while a button mounted to one side could trigger a digital camera on the same mount to take photos. There was also a zoom control, for close-ups.
There were advantages to going for a Communications degree.
Jenny hadn’t actually started to undress yet. She was prowling around the room, looking nervous and unsure of herself.
"She probably expects us to come bursting in while she’s undressing," Roger commented.
"You don’t think she’ll find the camera setup, do you, Dodger?" King asked.
"Nah . . . she’s too much of a proper little lady to go poking around in a strange guy’s closet," Roger said with a grin. Especially with a pile of dirty clothes in front of it topped off by a couple of jock-straps!"
As they watched, Jenny moved to the door and locked it, then seemed to look all around one last time before she finally unbuttoned the blazer and shrugged it off, tossing it into the basket. Her white blouse, soaking wet, was almost transparent, but a slip underneath denied them a good look at her hidden charms . . . for now.
She started to unbutton the blouse, pacing a little as she did so. Roger was hard-pressed to keep the camera on her the whole time. Suddenly the heavy skirt slid from her waist, nearly tripping her, making her unsuspected audience laugh.
"I see what you mean about her being such a klutz, Dodger," somebody commented.
"Yeah, but a fucking hot klutz," someone else added.
She stepped out of the skirt and bent over to pick it up, giving the camera a wonderful view of her ass covered by wet pantyhose as the hem of her slip rode up. The skirt landed on top of the blazer in the basket, and then Jenny finished undoing the blouse and added it to the pile.
Then she seemed to hesitate, looking from the basket to the robe that was lying on the end of Roger’s bed with a look of indecision.
"Damn," Scott said. "If she decides to keep her undies on the whole set-up will be useless."
"She’ll take ‘em off," Roger said confidently. "You don’t think she’s going to sit around in wet underwear? And there’s not much point in drying her other clothes if she’s still sopping wet underneath, is there?"
Sure enough, she seemed to reach a decision and started to struggle out of the slip. The wet garment fought her at every turn, but she finally got it over her head and dropped it in the laundry basket, leaving her standing in her pantyhose and bra. There were whistles from all around the crowded room as the guys took in the sight of her 38CC breasts straining against the wet fabric. Biker was hastily sketching on his pad.
"The best is yet to come," Roger said with a grin. He snapped a couple of still pictures.
Jenny turned her back on the camera as she reached behind to unsnap the bra, and there were groans from the audience as they thought they would be cheated. But those groans changed quickly to cheers as she turned around and bent over to tug at the clinging pantyhose. The motion set her ample breasts to swaying, and the watching men were quickly mesmerized by the sight. In fact they hardly reacted at all as the pantyhose came down Jenny’s long legs and exposed her blonde bush, at least not until Roger zoomed in on it.
He zoomed back out in time to catch her towelling herself off vigorously, an action which once again set her breasts to jiggling in a most pleasantly stimulating manner. At length, though, she finally put the towel in the basket with her clothes and picked up the robe, slipping it over her shoulders and drawing it tight across her chest and stomach. She carefully tied the terrycloth belt that went with it tight around her waist, then moved over to look at herself in a mirror.
The robe was far too big for her, hanging down almost to her ankles. Despite her generous expanse of chest, Jenny had been able to overlap it sufficiently to keep it from gaping open accidentally, provided she was at all careful. Roger grinned again. That would help build her confidence enough to lead her into the last and mosdt important part of the evening’s entertainment . . . .
"You’re sure this thing with the robe is going to work, Prof?" he asked.
"No way it can go wrong," the science major replied confidently. "When you add enough moisture to the chemicals I soaked that thing in, and just the right amount of heat . . . trust me, you won’t be disappointed!"
"Heat. Yeah. That reminds me, better get the fireplace going. We’ll want our poor little wet girl to have a chance to dry off in front of the roaring fire, right, boys?"
"You got it, Dodger!" Junior and King got to work lighting a blaze, while Scott shut off the TV and Roger carefully hid the remote device under the couch. A moment later Jenny’s voice came tentatively from the top of the stairs.
"Roger?"
"Come on down, Jen, if you’re ready. Have a cup of hot chocolate and get warmed up!" Roger signalled to another of the brothers to go to the kitchen and heat some water. "Prof, why don’t you take care of Jen’s clothes for her, okay?" Jenny had reached the foot of the stairs by then.
"You don’t mind if I go with him?" She hesitated. "I mean, just to make sure he gets the settings right on the dryer. Wouldn’t want to get my . . . er, my delicates ruined, you know?"
"Sure, Jen. Fine. We’ll have your hot chocolate waiting for you when you’re done."
Jenny followed Prof back up the stairs from the basement, one hand holding on to the front of the robe as an added precaution against a revealing slip. The science student had loaded the clothes in a big dryer, and let Jenny set all the controls without comment. She felt a little twinge of conscience at wanting to oversee the laundry herself, but a part of her just couldn’t help but be concerned that Roger’s frat brothers might be planning another practical joke on her. She had heard of female students at frat parties being tricked out of their clothes and then forced into all kinds of compromising positions to get them back, and she could just imagine somebody taking her wet clothes and dumping them outside or something, instead of drying them and giving them back to her so she could leave.
But it seemed her suspicions were unfounded. Prof was a perfect gentleman, and as they emerged on the main floor the other brothers seemed to be on their best behavior. The King handed her a steaming mug of hot chocolate and said "I’m really sorry, ma’am" in a solemn, humble voice. Then they led her into the living room and insisted she should sit on a big stuffed ottoman close to the crackling fire.
The fire made her a little nervous at first, but she got over her fear that it might somehow ignite her robe and Jenny was able to relax a little as she sipped her drink and listened to stories about Roger’s exploits as a member of the swim team. The chocolate ran out after a little while, and she set the mug down beside the fireplace and leaned back, feeling better than she had all night. These guys really weren’t so bad after all, she decided. And the fire felt good. Even after towelling herself off upstairs she was still a little damp here and there, especially her hair, and the fire was helping to finish drying her out a little better.
Jenny felt a little itch on her left arm, and brushed her hand idly over the spot. Suddenly she realized that the action was causing bits of the terrycloth fibers to fall like so much dandruff. "Oh!" she said suddenly. "What’s . . . ?"
She straightened up, and as if the abrupt movement had somehow damaged the fabric she realized that the entire left sleeve had suddenly come loose at the shoulder. It slid down her arm to land on the floor by the fire.
Jenny looked at it for a long moment, uncomprehending. She hadn’t DONE anything! There was no reason for the robe to just start . . . falling apart!
The other sleeve came loose without her even shifting position. Jenny snatched at it, but missed as it too fell to the floor. And her sudden move caused something to give behind her. She couldn’t tell just what, but she knew she’d better get out of the room while she still could!
Jenny surged to her feet . . . and realized that the belt had simply fallen apart from around her waist. The robe flapped open in front, exposing her breasts for just a moment before she could pull it closed again.
"Jen! What’s going on?" Roger sounded concerned and sprang to his feet, hurrying toward her.
"I . . . I . . . I’ve got to go back up stairs! Bring my stuff up when it’s dry!" Jenny started past him. He reached out, a worried look crossing his face as he tried to pat her shoulder reassuringly.
"Don’t worry, Sis," he began.
But Jenny was still moving, and somehow his hand caught at the hole where the sleeve had been attached. The tough terrycloth robe just seemeed to shred apart like so much paper as she pulled away from him, leaving Roger with a handful of yellow rags . . . a larger pile of shredded cloth on the floor . . . and Jenny in the middle of the room full of frat guys.
Stark naked.
"Ohmygod! Ohmygod!" Jenny raced from the room, giving her appreciative audience a wonderful view of her firm, round ass and fiercely-pumping legs as she ran for the stairs.
After a long moment of silence, the president of the Eta Delta Pi house stood up and clapped Roger on the shoulder.
"Damn it, Taylor, when you said you’d provide the entertainment tonight, I never imagined it would be this good!"
Half an hour later Jenny, fully dressed again and pulling on her coat while trying to hide her almost continual blushing, finally got out of the frat house and headed for her car. Her brother and a number of other well-wishers watched her go. When Roger finally closed the door, they were all pounding him on the back and trying to shake his hand.
"What did she say when you took her clothes up, man?" someone demanded. "Did she blame you for any of it?" Roger smiled easily.
"Nah. I told her Prof must have cleaned up a spill with the robe and then just left it there. All a terrible, unfortunate accident. And she bought it, too!"
"Cool! So now what, Dodger?"
"Well, tomorrow I’ve got some pics to post." He grinned. "And, you know, Thanksgiving’s coming up, and my big Sis actually invited me to pay her and her hubbie a visit this year. That might just turn out to be fun, don’t you guys think?"
"Only if you bring back the pics," Scott told him.