I was housesitting for you, sister, when I came down with it. It was probably not the best place to be.
On the fourth day, I was ravenous. I had expected it. Everyone knows from the news: "day four, you're a whore" but I had no idea how serious the symptoms would be. Then again, maybe I feel like doing a little experimenting. . .yes. . . I love experimenting. . . there's power there. . . you learn things. . . then you know.
You have nice lingerie, sister. I especially like what I'm wearing now. I found it in a box with the label Bridal Lingerie. I'm guessing you consumated your marriage in these. I really like them. You have good taste.
I love this toy. You'll have to tell me where you got it. It really bothers me inside. I mean. . . it's the perfect size, isn't it? I know how jealous James can be, so I'm guessing it's as big as he is. That's kind of exciting. It's nice to share, sister.
I bet James would freeze if he came around the corner and saw me playing.
I wonder if he would like my tongue. I wonder if he would approve?
I wonder if I do this better than you yet. I realize I'm trying. The virus is strong in day four and other feminine pheromones heat you up, make you competitive. I've read the studies. But reading is one thing, feeling it completely is another.
Why do I move better when I imagine this is James' cock? Why am I kinder to it? More deferential? Why do I slow down and take my time? Why do I sink my knees into the floor and feel his gaze like the sun itself shining warmth down upon me?
You always post on social media that he's the best hubby ever. Is that true, sister?
Oh, fuck. That's really naughty of me. I shouldn't. But now I just have to. . .
I love reaching under me and not having a cock dangling in the way. My wrist slides barely under my tummy and over my new mound. It's hot.
What's the harm of an innocent slide down your husband's cock?
What's the harm in paining him generously with my lips?
What's the harm of playing in your bedroom a bit?
Of taking your husband deep?
This maddening rush. This bliss of being completely filled. Two sisters — sharing.
Room quiet, but for my moans. The air charged.
A steady descent into my feminine nature. Nipples about to pop, caressed in the cool air of your bedroom.
And my hand. . .a'flurry. Unable to stop. Thinking of you, sister, across the room. Watching. As James takes me doggie. Trying to fathom the new fatty deposits on my chest, my young breasts, a few days old since they budded, but still welcome new presences beneath me.
I've been sunning on your balcony the last few days. I found your bikini. It seemed like something to do.
After the first day, I balked at the new demarkation lines across my chest and panty line. . . the boundary between sun-kissed skin and what lies hidden. And yet, I tanned the next day. And the next. Even though my girlfriend might ask when I got back from housesitting — seeing the strap lines around my shoulders, the cross of fabric behind my back, and the impression of bikini cups across my chest.
Not to mention I shaved every inch of my body.
Beauty begs for the right care.
I feel you both across the room. My girlfriend and my sister. I feel myself straddling James and you both watching me. I imagine you unable to stop my feminization. Unable to intervene. I imagine touching myself until my eruption hits — and then my eruption sparking James. I imagine spreading my thighs, sinking in, and taking it deep.
And it makes me come in your bed.
I know it. I know I need to find a man. To find one quickly. My phone is ringing again. It's my girlfriend. I need to find one before she checks in on me at your house.
What did they say on the news? Exposure to sperm on Day 4 is a recipe for permanence? Even if the man just comes on your tummy. Even if you just smell it.
Fuck.
I lean back and imagine a cock firing inside of me. . . and not moving. Letting it.
Oh god, sister. . . I need to find a man. A handsome one. One to play with me. I need someone else's hands moving beyond the border of my tanlines. I can't explain it. Nor do I want to. I just need it. And it will be mine. I know they say not to leave the house when you have the virus. . . but would you be okay with me borrowing an outfit?
Don't worry, sister. You made me promise to clean up before you got back. I will. Your lingerie to the box. Your bed neatly made. And your toy. . . well, I might borrow it if that's ok? I like the little aftershocks it gives me and mom always said that we should share.
.
.
.
Thank you for reading and your support!
Be embraced in immersive, meditative, feminine bliss. Listen and feel like a woman completely.
🔊 LISTEN to the Official Audio Trailer: https://on.soundcloud.com/phVQr
➡️ GET 'The Bachelorette Trip' Now and be in her shoes. https://blquick.gumroad.com/l/thebachelorettetrip