Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
That’s when all hell had broken loose as far as I could tell. The last time I saw Melanie she was Melanie. A sweet, biddable young lady with her head full of schoolwork and whatever the fuck innocent teenage girls thought about all damn day. Then she came home a short while ago and I noticed the change that had turned my shit upside down before she headed out again. Now she was back and worse than fucking ever.
One year away from home and she’s turned into Lolita. If I ever get my hands on whoever the fuck helped her with the makeover and shit I’ll strangle their ass. My life was on track dammit, things were going just the way I wanted them to and then bam, she’d blindsided me. Just like a fucking female to mess with shit.
Her hair was the first thing I noticed when I walked through the door a few weeks ago. It was a waterfall of lusciousness instead of the matted tangle of curls she’d always worn. The only reason I’d noticed the hair before the ass was because I hadn’t been expecting what she’d done to her body. Either she’d had implants, or someone had shown her how to workout for the utmost effect.
I remember feeling the sweat start to bead on my skin, and my collar had grown tight. That’s when she’d turned and looked at me with the new pouty lips and my ship had been sunk. From that day to this she’s been doing little sneaky shit each time we were in the same room together, so there was no mistaking what the fuck was going on.
For my part, I had been coming by more often than I had since I’d left home all those years ago. I found myself dropping in after work just to get a look at her, and being pissed way the fuck off on the one or two occasions that she wasn’t here. Like she was supposed to sit around waiting for me to show up. I don’t know how I was able to hide the fact that I had lost my fucking head from our parents, but they didn’t seem to have caught on thank fuck. And why would they? They were accustomed to me being level headed after all. I was the golden boy who could do no wrong, who had set his sights on a goal and had been working towards it since my early teens.
Now instead of focusing on my latest deal, something that I had put my heart and soul into for the last half a year, I was mooning over little miss hot stuff’s ass and other attributes. It had been hell the past couple of days reminding myself that she was the closest thing to a sister that I had, and it wouldn’t be right to bend her teasing ass over somewhere and fuck her into dust. I knew for a fact that as hot as she had me, if I got my hands and other body parts on her, she would be royally fucked.
I showed up here today with the intentions of behaving myself and putting an end to this madness once and for all. I’m a grown ass man, I can control my dick, and as long as I keep reminding myself that she is the apple of my dad’s eye, I should be able to keep my hands off.
But she seems to have been aware of my newfound resolve to ignore the signals she’d been sending me all fucking week, because she’d decided to pull out all the stops. Don’t ask me how she knew which buttons to push; I never knew that she knew me that well in that department. I’d always kept my sordid sex life as far away from home and family as possible, but somehow she’d caught on to what I liked and was yanking my shit for all it was worth.
The white short dress she wore was riding her ass just right and the top was stretched so tight across her chest, that her nipples were making little indentations in the soft material, no bra, fuck my life. Her skin, which was mostly exposed, had the perfect tan to it, and she had her toes painted a cute pink, I’m a painted toes kinda guy. In fact everything about her was put together, unlike the usual tomboyish get-ups I was used to.
I could hear the others moving around in the rest of the house and knew it was only a matter of time before we were interrupted, probably by one of her many admirers. I should probably have chosen another time and place for this little tete-a-tete, but I was out of time and patience.
Last night she’d upped the stakes in the game when she’d leaned over after dinner and deliberately given me a shot of her tits. Up until that moment I had been almost able to convince myself that it was all in my head; that this new attitude of hers wasn’t what I had begun to suspect. After all, she had never even hinted at anything even remotely like this before.