“I’ll do?” she teased, grinning cheekily, giving us a full 360 and a bonus wiggle.
I was speechless; I’d always known inside that she was beautiful, Hell, they both were, but now, this wasn’t my sister; now, I was about to go on a (fake!) date with a gorgeous girl, and I was struck dumb at just how beautiful she really was, and how plain and ordinary I was. How the Hell were we going to pull this pantomime off?
Yaz sashayed over to me, looked me up and down, and winked as she grinned.
“We’re going to cause a stir tonight, no doubt about that! Just remember, be aloof, do that raised eyebrow thing you do if any of the girls give you the come-on, and just look them up and down really slowly and look away, then whisper something, anything, in my ear, mutter ‘rhubarb, rhubarb, rhubarb’ if you can’t think of anything to say, just let them see you do it. If anyone asks, just tell them your name and that you work for mummy, and DON’T get into a conversation with anyone, leave that to me; we’re going there to scam those morons, not make friends, and I could care less if we offend anyone, it’s not like they’re lifelong buddies or anything, so screw ’em, got it?”
I smiled, finally relaxed enough to go along with the scam; Yaz wanted to leave them with something to think about, she was my little sister, so I was on her side and ready to back her play. Let the games begin!
*****
Shari drove us to the school, Yaz couldn’t drive in those heels, and I couldn’t drive, period, so we sat in the back of Shari’s Mitsubishi Shogun and looked like we were being chauffeured. When we walked in, people started muttering and nudging each other, guys staring at Yaz with looks that brought out the worst in me; suddenly I was her protective big brother and I wanted to just grab those oafs and bang their empty heads together for ogling my little sister; weird, how it took that place and those stares to bring that out in me, huh?
The school auditorium had been decorated with tinsel and glittery streamers, and balloons and bunches of paper flowers in the school colours, and tables covered with elaborate swags of cloth, glitter-balls sent points of light everywhere, and a DJ played what I assumed were current hits. Yaz piloted me over to the bar, which was serving only soft drinks, even though everyone there was at least eighteen, and got us a couple of cokes; the school wasn’t prepared to deal with a bunch of smashed teenagers, so the prom was ‘dry’, juice and soft drinks only. I don’t drink anyway, so it made no difference to me.
As we drank our cokes, Yaz gave me a running commentary on who was who, who’d said what to her or about her, and a who’s-who of the teachers/chaperones.
As we were chatting, I noticed the same four or five girls kept walking past us and staring at me; this was more than a little unnerving, so I pointed it out to Yaz, and she smiled, then pulled me down and around so her face was in the hollow of my shoulder, with her hand curled around my face and on the back of my head; from a few feet away it must have looked like we were kissing, but she was actually whispering in my ear.
“I see them; those scruffy tarts are trying to clock you, they keep trying to catch your eye! Remember what I told you? Look them up and down, then whisper something in my ear, and I’ll give them a big grin; it’ll drive them freakin’ crazy!”
So I did. With Yaz nudging me I did the whole ‘up and down and look contemptuous’ thing, then whispered in her ear, and watched while she looked right at them and nodded, giggling maliciously, watching them with a big grin on her face as they flushed and scurried away.
I stared at her, amazed that it worked, but wondering what came next, so I asked her.
“OK, Yaz, it worked, what next? And by the way, why are they all staring at me?”
Yaz stared at me with a surprised expression on her face.
“Because you’re gorgeous, Ricky, can’t you tell? Look at them, they’re wetting their panties just looking at you!”
Again that word; what was she talking about? At that moment one of the guys who’d been ogling Yaz came strolling up to her and asked her to dance. Yaz just stared at him and nudged me, so I leaned down and looked at him.
“If you want to dance with my girlfriend you ask me, got it?”
He kind of gulped and tried to look confident and scary.
“Look, I just want to dance with her, OK? You got a problem with that?”
Another nudge from Yaz, so I let him have it.
“Yeah, I do. Get lost, dickhead!”
He looked at Yaz and she grinned.
“You heard my boyfriend; get lost, dickhead!”
As he shuffled back to his mates, the sound of Yaz giggling made the back of his neck flush. I looked at Yaz, wondering what to do next, and she took my arm.
“I think it’s time my boyfriend danced with me, so let’s get out there, Ricky, c’mon, dance with me!”
As we danced, I asked her what we’d just done.
“What was that all about, Yaz? It looked like that guy really wanted to dance with you; I thought they hated you?”
Yaz had to pull me down to her level so I could hear her over the music.
“The guy’s a creepoid; he just wanted to try and get in a few gropes, that’s what he’s like. I told you, they’re all like that, that’s all Shari and me are to them, something to grope, that’s why I hate this place and these people. Now I’ve got my Fake Ricky-Boyfriend with me, they’re going to keep their distance, so let’s make them suffer, you up for it?”
I had to grin; she was irrepressible, and Ayesha was right, I couldn’t actually say no to her, so I kept going. Another slow number came on, and she hugged herself closer to me, lightly tapping me on the back to keep me in-time with her as she moulded her body against mine, the pressure of her hand on my back conveying with light prods and pushes what she wanted me to do next to keep the charade looking convincing. It was really nice, the first time I’d actually danced with a girl (being trundled around by Shari didn’t count, I was too busy trying to not fall over or step on her feet to appreciate it) and something was happening to me; after a few seconds I realised I was getting hard. I was in a welter of shame and embarrassment; this was my little sister, for God’s sake!
Yaz slid her hand down to the small of my back and patted me gently as she rested her head against my chest, for all the world like a loving girlfriend.
“It’s OK, sweetie, it’s natural, don’t worry about it…” she murmured, all the while plastered against me, my cock by now rock hard and pressing ever more firmly against her tummy. Yaz gradually edged us away from the centre of the dance floor and closer to the wall as we danced, until we were safely away from scrutiny, then smiled as she patted my cheek. I didn’t know what to say, I’d never been so ashamed in my life.
“Yaz, I’m sorry… I… I… not my fault… so sorry…!” I burbled, afraid I’d deeply offended her, pressing myself against her like that, but she just hugged me.
“Sweetie, it’s OK, it’s not your fault, it happens, Ricky, it’s just a guy thing, it’s OK, really…” she reassured me, but I was too far gone in my embarrassment, and next thing I knew she’d pulled my head down and kissed me smack on the lips, and not a peck either; no, she plastered her lips against mine. I was wide-eyed in shock, and too stunned to do anything except stand there while she hung on to me, the kiss lasting forever.
When she finally let go and smiled up at me, I stared at her in shock.
“Yaz… why… you… I…” I stammered, and once again I got that trademark cheeky grin of hers.
“It shut you up didn’t it?” she murmured, “Are you alright now, or do you need a few minutes?”
After what her kiss had done to me, more than a few minutes was what I needed, sister or not, so she stroked my cheek (which didn’t help, either…) and straightened my tie, flicked off my lapels, and generally fussed around me, calming me down, before rolling her eyes at the knot of girls on the other side of the dance floor.
“Look, don’t worry about it, Ricky, it’s normal, I’m not offended, honest, and at least I know this dress works, sweetie!”
I goggled at her, my mouth dropping open in shock, but she just gave me a big wink, and her best, impish smile.
“Look on the bright side, Rick; at least we gave that herd of bitches something to stare at!” she grinned, and when I glanced where she was looking at least ten girls were staring back at me.
“Ignore them, hun; it’ll drive them crazy!” she smirked as she led me back out on the floor and plastered herself against me once more. This time, though, I was able to hold ‘that’ reaction in check, and actually started to enjoy myself.
And so it went on through the evening; every time someone asked her to dance I’d glance at her, get that microscopic headshake, and tell him to sling his hook, she was with me and staying there, while her body swayed and curled sensuously around me as we danced. The guys watching us just stared hungrily at her lithe figure and sexy dance moves, and the knot of girls who were watching us like hawks just never let up for one second, until, finally unnerved by it all, I had to do something about it.
“Yaz…” I breathed and she just smiled and patted my chest.
“Relax, Ricky, it’s under control…”
“Yaz, I mean it, do something…” I quavered, and she gave me a wicked little smile as she slipped her arm through mine and hugged me.
“Ricky, sweet, innocent Ricky, they’re wondering how someone like me can hook someone like you, so shall we go over there and lie to them a little?”