1. What is It?

Paul's attention was briefly distracted by a blue streak in the yard. Frowning, he darted his gaze to the sliding door, and scanned their humble lawn ornaments. Fortunately, nothing seemed out of place, and he turned back to the game.

"Hey! Paul?"

"Yes?"

Hesitant pause.

"Um... I need your help really quick."

The young man turned. A blonde-haired, wide-eyed young woman stared at him, standing by the foot of the stairs.

"What's up, sis?" Paul popped a chip in his mouth, muting the TV. He hoped it wasn't anything too time-consuming. The game was going to be wrapping up halftime soon.

"I," she began puckishly, then finally held up a cloth about the size of her torso, "I forgot how to put this thing on."

Paul tilted his head. She had something in her hand alright. It looked kind of like a blocky-shaped version of person's upper body. And was made out of fabric, like a pair of pants.

"Interesting."

The brother rose from the couch and approached his very eye-catching sister. No shortage of talk around her bounced down the halls of her high school, he was sure. Smart, hot, and decently athletic, her sometimes reserved demeanor only added a stirring contrast.

"What is it?" he asked.

His sister shrugged.

"Come on, Charlotte. You seem to know more about it than me if you remember something about needing help with it."

"I... I know it's used for something. It's supposed to go on me, I think."

"What?" Paul snorted. "Like a necklace? That thing's way too big for that."

The busty blonde shook her head, causing her bra-encased orbs to shake, slightly. "No, not like that. Like..." she twisted her brow in thought, trying to think. The concentration seemed to be taking a toll when, finally, her gaze drifted to Paul's covered body.

"Like... like that!" Excitedly she pointed directly at Paul. It was his turn to don a confused expression.

"What? You mean my shirt?" He tugged at his plain tee. A generic brand slogan was scrawled over the center of it.

"Yes! Exactly! Your..." Frustrated breath. "...what was it?"

"My shirt."

"Yes!" Charlotte repeated, holding up the cloth. "Yes! Isn't that what this is too? A..."

"A... shoot, what is it? An atomic bomb?"

"A propane tank?"

"Maybe it's a machine or something."

"Maybe."

"Hey sis," Paul said casually, still thinking, "I want to fuck you all of a sudden."

Charlotte's eyes widened, looking back to the vague article. "Oh! Maybe you're right! Maybe I want to fuck you too," she said as if coming to a revelation.

"Ok," Paul sighed and sat against the top of the couch, "so we still don't know what this... thing is."

From Charlotte's lips emerged another sigh. "Right," she took her position against a nearby coffee table.

The familial pair leaned in silence for a while. The TV set was still muted as on the screen, the cheerleaders suddenly took off their tops and shook their naked breasts free. Everyone in the audience was cheering, and one young woman had even taken her pants off and begun waving it around while a couple guys scattered across the bleachers pumped their fists and then their dicks simultaneously, and another nearby sniffed her ass. The ecstasy was palpable enough to radiate through the glass.

Then finally, Paul spoke up.

"First, let's get your bra off," he gestured to Charlotte's chest. "In the meantime, I'll remove my pants."

"Can you suck my dick too, bro?" Charlotte asked as she unclasped her bra, clumped it between her hands, then, after taking a pitching stance, threw it across the room like an MLB recruitment hopeful. It landed on a desk lamp.

"Sure, sis," Paul accepted. Once his pants were on the floor, he pulled on his penis. When it was finally hard and thick, he was able to detach it and approached his waiting sister.

In just a few seconds he had fixed his penis onto Charlotte, while scraping her vagina off of her body. Then he brought his head forward, filling his mouth with the hard member. He grunted and mumbled unintelligibly.

"Well," Charlotte gasped for air as Paul dislodged his mouth from the penis. "How is it? Am I good?"

"Very," Paul smiled. "Just try to use your tongue more, and vibrations go a long way, too."

"Ok," she acknowledged timidly, "I'll try to suck it more effectively. By the way, thanks for sucking my dick."

"No problem, sis." Paul then mirrored in a near identical tone, "By the way, thanks for sucking my dick. I'm such a horny older brother."

Charlotte just smiled as Paul stuck the cock back into his mouth and moved up and down along its veiny hardness.

"What is this?" she asked again, sighing.

"I have no clue."

Paul jerked his cock while Charlotte, topless, braless, and bottomless, just stared at the formless material in her hands.

"Maybe it's a shirt?"

"Maybe," Paul shrugged, then came, ejaculating on the floor. He made no sound or expression as he zipped his pants back up then walked up to Charlotte and slipped his hands underneath her bottom, then lifted her up from the chair. "Try putting it over your legs to see."

Now standing, Charlotte nodded and lifted a leg, over which she had nothing on at the moment, sticking it into one of the shirt's holes. It didn't seem to match, as the other leg was left in an awkward position. She brought the other leg up and attempted to fit it through the adjacent hole. This only caused the fabric to strain, pulling against the seams. Then she re-tried, mixing and matching by sticking them through other holes and in other directions. Finally, she stamped a foot.

"Why isn't this working?" she asked, growing agitated.

"I want to fuck you," Paul said. "I don't know. I want to fuck you. Maybe you're doing it wrong? I want to fuck you. Why don't you just put both your legs through the big hole in the bottom there? I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you silly."

"I want to fuck you," Charlotte nodded thoughtfully. "I would, but... I want to fuck you... I just don't think that's where it's meant to go. I want to fuck you. I mean, obviously it would fit! I WANT to fuck you! But then once I were to actually have it at my hips, well... I want to fuck you... don't you think it would just fall off? And I want to fuck you, I want to fuck you until I cry, until I cry like a little bitch."

"Charlotte," Paul remarked, "how 'bout we go next door and ask? What do you think?"

The topless blonde agreed, her eyes meek. "Um... sure, why not."

"Just put your shirt on and we'll get going." The blonde man chugged down a soda can and looked for his shoes.

Once Charlotte slid through her shirt and put on some pants, the two both left the house to figure out what exactly that thing she had over her body was for, and how she was supposed to use it. Maybe someone else would recognize the curiosity.