Bob Wallace

Sis on the make

CHAPTER ONE

Melanie Lange stirred in her bed. Her blonde hair sprayed out over the pillow as she opened her blue eyes and squinted at the sun shining in through the window.

A shiver rippled through her teenaged body, a shiver she had learned to expect every morning.

"Oooo, no," she sighed softly, hating what the rippling tremors in her pussy.

She stared up at the ceiling, determined not to touch, her pussy again. For months she had been losing the battle, succumbing to her passions each morning until she trembled and perspired with shame and lust, her fingers drenched in pussy-cum, her climax leaving her feeling dirty. This morning, she swore to herself, would be different.

A shuddering spasm skipped through her lithe body as she clamped her thighs together.

"Oooo, God, no," she sighed, feeling the juices of her virgin pussy squish inside her.

She clenched her small hands into fists, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Noooo," she whispered, her body already beginning to writhe on the bed. "Ooooo, nooo."

She squirmed on her back, her hands unclenching her eyes opening. She had lost the battle again. She kicked off the covers and slipped her hands down her virgin body. Panting, she lifted her nightie, her fingers touching sizzling flesh.

She sat up, yanked off her nightie and bared her plump, creamy tits. They jiggled, the nipples round, pink, and swollen. Tossing the nightie away, she lay back, her trembling hands caressing her tits. Instantly, she went into a writhing spasm.