Blue Moon Stories

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Bra Removal 101


 “Hey.” Beckett middle brother and occasional pain in the ass leaned against the doorframe of his older brother’s bedroom doing his best to look casual.


“What do you want?” Carter asked without looking up from the running shoes he was tying. He had a few months to go before high school graduation and then boot camp. He wasn’t one to leave things until the last minute. He wanted to step off that bus already at the top of his class of recruits.


“What makes you think I want something?” Beckett hedged. At sixteen, Beckett was the diplomat of the family.


Carter was the quiet one. Beckett the leader. And Jax, the youngest, was the full-time pain in the ass.


“You have that look,” Carter accused.


“What look?”


“That soppy bozo look guys get when boobs are involved.”


Beckett grinned. “Well, since you mentioned it—”


“Mention what? I heard boobs.” Jax, bopped into the room knocking into Beckett’s shoulder on the way. His dark shaggy hair was standing on end. He was eating straight from a box of cereal.


“Mom just bought that, dumbass,” Beckett scoffed. “She’s gonna kick your ass.”


Jax shrugged thin shoulders that had yet to bulk up in puberty. He was lanky and unkempt in the tradition of teenage boys who hadn’t yet fallen for a teenage girl. Jax was always in a good mood. Carter tried not to hold it against him.


Amiably, Jax held the box out to Beckett who shoved a hand in.


“So. Why we talkin’ about boobs?” Jax crunched.


Carter turned his attention back to Beckett. “Yeah. Why are we talking about boobs?”


Beckett entered the room and flopped down on the neatly made bed. “So, here’s the thing. Me and Moon Beam are getting… you know. Serious.”


“How serious?” Carter asked.


“Moon Beam is going to get serious with anyone with a dick,” Jax predicted.


“Hey, now,” Beckett and Carter said together.


“If Mom heard you say that about a girl—” Carter began.


“Mom was the one who said it. I’m not implying,” Jax said with emphasis on the new word he was trying out, “that there’s something wrong with a girl enjoying sex.”


“Well, Moon Beam is going to be enjoying sex with me,” Beckett said.


Carter pinched the bridge of his nose. “Condoms, Beck. Lots and lots of condoms.”


“Yeah, I got that already. Suit up blah blah blah. What I need is tips on getting naked,” Beckett said.


“You mean like a strip tease?” Jax asked, gyrating his thin hips.


The kid had no moves.


“I mean, the bra, man. How do I get past the bra?” Beckett asked. “Tallulah Higgens told the entire school that Leaf Ericson tried for twenty minutes before she had to take it off for him. I do not want to be a Leaf Ericson.”


“Nobody wants to be Leaf Ericson. The dude has six earrings and picks his nose,” Jax chimed in, flopping down on the mattress next to Beckett.


“So you want to know how to get past the bra?” Carter clarified.


“With finesse, man,” Beckett told him.


“How complicated can a bra possibly be?” Jax frowned.


“In the fog of lust in the backseat of a car in the dark?” Carter said. “Pretty fucking complicated.”


“Don’t let me humiliate the Pierce name,” Beckett pleaded. “Teach me your ways, big brother.”


“If girls put them on and take them off every day, it can’t be that tough,” Jax insisted.


Beckett and Carter shared an eyeroll.


“Bet I could unhook one faster than you could,” Jax pressed.


Carter sighed. “Five bucks.”


“Pfft. Five bucks. I’ll take that bet,” Jax said eagerly.


“You’re not going to use one of Mom’s bras, are you?” Beckett asked Carter, looking a little green around the gills.


Carter rolled his desk chair in the direction of his dresser. “Shut the door, Jax.”


His brother scrambled off the bed and slammed the bedroom door.


Furtively, Carter dug into the bottom drawer of his dresser and produced a very pink, very lacy, very non-Mom bra.


“Whoa,” Jax breathed, falling back on the bed.


“That’s right,” Carter said, pointing at him. “Bras and the breasts in them deserve your reverence. Don’t forget that.”


“Who’s bra is that?” Beckett asked.


“None of your business.” Carter yanked the pillow out from under Jax’s head. He sat back down on the desk chair and fasted the bra around the pillow, then tossed it to his brother. “Take it off.”


Jax snorted. “Get ready to lose five big ones. Time me, bitch,” he said to Beckett.


Lazily, Beckett consulted his wrist watch.


With more enthusiasm than finesse, Jax shoved the straps off of the pillow. Then he gripped the top of the pillow and dragged the whole thing—pillow case and all—off the bottom.


“Time!”


“You’re an idiot,” Beckett said. “That would only work on a woman with no torso or legs.”


“Let’s see one of you dicks do better,” Jax said cheerfully.


“Get your shoes off my bed,” Carter said, redressing the pillow.


Jax ignored him and scrubbed the soles of his sneakers over the quilt. Little brothers were assholes.


“Have you ever tried being less of a jackass?” Beckett asked him, slapping the box of cereal into Jax’s chest.


“Have you ever tried being less of a fart-faced prick?”


“Gentlemen,” Carter said, claiming their attention.


Beckett sat up, wrist watch at the ready. “Go.”


With a deft flick of his wrist, Carter released the bra.


“Whoa,” Jax whispered as the pink confection floated to the ground. “One-handed.”


Beckett was so impressed, he forgot to check the time. “Teach me.”


Grinning, Carter tossed Beckett the pillow and the bra. “Dress the lady.”


“Seriously, how did you do that?” Jax asked. “It was like magic.”


“First lesson, doing shit like that with confidence goes a long way with girls,” Carter said.


“Confidence.” Beckett’s head bobbed. “How do I get that?”


“Practice.” Carter nodded at the pillow. “Go for it.”


Jax reached for the bra, but Beckett slapped his hand away. “You’re fourteen. You don’t need to know yet.”


“Okay,” Beckett said. “Confidence.” He fumbled with the band. “Damnit.”


Carter let him struggle with it for a full minute. “Ready to give up?”


“No,” his brother snapped. Another thirty seconds and he finally had it. “Ha! Take that you bastard!”


“You’re not really going to say that to a girl when you take her bra off, are you?” Jax asked, through a mouthful of dry cereal.


“Okay. Let’s try it again,” Carter said. “But this time, push down with your thumb and pull with your index and middle finger.” He repositioned Beckett’s fingers.


“Push pull. Got it.” Beckett bit his lip in concentration.


It took him only thirty seconds this time.


“Not bad,” Carter said.


“Yeah, but won’t it be more distracting with a girl all up in his face kissing him?” Jax asked, helpfully making kissing noises an inch from Beckett’s face.


“That’s why practice is essential. So you can perform even in the face of distraction,” Carter said wisely. He’d been having sex for two years now and was proud to be able to impart some of his wisdom on his younger brothers. “Go again,” he told Beckett.


Beckett suited up the pillow once again.


“Remember. It’s about confidence. Don’t go into it hoping you’re going to unhook it. Go into it knowing you’re going to unhook it. Approach it like you’re solving a problem.”


Fifteen seconds later the bra was unhooked.


“Lemme try,” Jax insisted. Brothers swapped cereal box for bra and pillow.


Jax had just suited the pillow up when they heard determined footsteps on the stairs.


“Boys! You three are due in the barn to help your father,” Phoebe Pierce, mother and terrifying woman, called from the hallway.


“Fuck!” Jax hissed. He hurled the bra clad pillow at Carter.


The brisk knock at the door meant entry was imminent.


Carter tossed the pillow out the second-floor window.


Beckett followed suit with the box of cereal.


All three of them settled back into uncomfortable poses of innocence.


“What in the hell are you three up to in here?” Phoebe demanded.


“We’re just planning what to get you for your birthday, Mom,” Jax lied sweetly.


“Bullshit,” Phoebe said succinctly. She gave them the eye and waited for someone to crack. When no one did, she sighed. “I’ll find out sooner or later. In the meantime, get your butts out to the barn. Your dad needs some extra hands and he doesn’t need you all lazing about letting him do all the work.”


“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused.


Head held high, she marched out of the room.


The boys breathed a sigh of relief.


“That was a close one,” Beckett whispered. Phoebe had that magical hearing that picked up on just about everything that was breathed within the walls of their family farmhouse.


There was a whistle from outside. The boys crowded around the open window. John Pierce, father, farmer, and all-around good man, stood on the ground, hand in the cereal box. The bra-wearing pillow at his feet.


“Anyone wanna explain?” he asked.


“No, sir,” they answered together.


“Just remember, do it with confidence,” John said.


“Yes, sir.”


He leaned down, brushed the dust off the pillow, and hurled it up. Carter caught it one-handed.


“John Pierce! I just bought that cereal this morning! It’s supposed to last for more than four hours,” Phoebe yelled.