I shook my head.
“Princess.”
His voice was so stern, so demanding. My big brother wanted me to sit up. So I sighed and did, my face wet with tears. I couldn’t look at him.
He grabbed my glasses off my nightstand and placed them gently on my face. The world grew sharper. Then he lifted my chin, his dark eyes staring into mine. “Princess, you know I love you.”
“You love Melody!” The words screeched out of me. “You love her big boobs and her ass and her lips and…and….”
“I do, Princess.” His thumb stroked away a falling tear. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t love your petite body, your tiny tits, and your yummy pussy.”
I shook my head. “Yes, it does. You don’t like me. Look at me.” I glanced down at the pink dress I wore. “Everything I own is so girly. And Melody… She’s so grown up.”
“And I love that you’re so girly.” He smiled. “You’re my little sister, Princess. I want that. I like that. I like it when you hold my hand and call me big brother in that cute voice.”
——————-
Tiresias says
Really liked the theme. And the 34-year-old woman was a bonus. But I’m just too overwhelmed by all the teenagers, even preteens, in erotica nowadays. Something for everybody, right? The thing is, the whole story was just over the top. And the boy was too old. All those women and girls, in love with him? Too much for me. And the absence of the original Clinton’s technique of making women submit was a huge missing link. Just all of a sudden there’s a harem of women dying for one man. I need a reason, a theory at least. It was hot, though. Good w/s.