The maid's daughter (2)

Spencer

I swear to God, I have never looked at Asha as anything other than my sister until today. Technically, she is not my sister, but I’ve watched her grow from a baby up until now. I have always taken care of her and made sure she was okay in every way possible. But that changed when she showed up in her new outfit. That is when I saw a fine, beautiful woman in her. The kind that made my jaw drop, and my body warm up.

Her straight blonde hair, pulled into a neat ponytail, swayed from side to side as she walked towards me. She looked nothing like her mother except for her green eyes, which looked at me with deep trust. I never want to lose that trust. I loved her small pouty lips that looked perfect to kiss, and her small upturned nose with a slight sprinkle of freckles. Even her skin had fewer blemishes than you would expect for a girl her age.

I averted my gaze from her face and settled lower. Big mistake.  Her loose yellow dress brushed over her curves ever so gently, enough for me to wish it were my palm gliding over instead of her cloth. That’s also when I noticed she had grown curvier in the right places. Curves that I itched to touch. Shame washed over me at such a thought. I shouldn’t be having such improper thoughts!

“Wow,” was all I could say after she snapped a finger at me. I must have zoned out longer than a few seconds. “You look… different,” I stammered. Very uncharacteristic of me.

“Do you like it?” she asked, moving past me to grab our plates. That’s when I caught her scent, too. She must have changed her perfume because this one smelled like a spring garden, yet still subtle.

“Of course, I do,” I said, taking a deep breath and filling my lungs with the scent of her. As she moved aside, the corner of her tits brushed against the side of my ribs, sending a jolt of electricity through me.  It was a very light accidental touch, but it awakened all my senses. I have been with a few women here and there, but something like this had never happened to me. Not even the first encounter with my crush.

I swallowed hard and decided to divert my attention to the pizza before my mind ventured deeper into the forbidden zone. “Are we eating here or in the living room?”

She preferred the kitchen, so we ate there. I kept watching her as she ate, jealous of the pizza that had a chance to touch her lips. Ridiculous, isn’t it? Yes, but at that time, all I wanted to do was lick that sauce off her lips and savor their taste to my heart’s content.

Later, I settled on the couch next to her and tried to act like everything was normal. I hoped that eventually this feeling would go away if I just ignored it. I didn’t want her to suspect me either. If she ever found out even a fraction of whatever was going on with me, she would never want to see me again. I did not want that to happen. I didn’t want to lose the closest person I have in my life.  A few minutes of pleasure was not worth the loss that would follow.

That was the story I told myself, yet my gaze refused to leave her ass. Her dress had ridden up past her mid-thighs all the way to the curve of her hip joint without her knowledge, exposing the lower part of her ass. Her smooth skin that rarely saw the light was much lighter than the rest of her skin, and her lilac panties cut across the ample flesh.

She innocently snuggled on my thigh like she always does, and on normal days, this wouldn’t be a problem. That touch flooded my body with a fuzzy feeling I loved and hated at the same time. She flipped into a comfortable position, which was on her stomach, and I couldn’t rip my eyes off her jiggly butt. Her dress rode up higher, giving me a good view of her whole ass cheek, plus a piece of the other.

I shouldn’t be checking her out like this, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. The temperature of the room went up a notch, or maybe it was just me feeling the heat, but something had definitely gotten hotter. I straightened up, promising myself not to cross that line again, but then I would find myself looking back one more time. I hoped it was the drink because I couldn’t bear the thought that I could be some pervert.

I reached for my glass, telling myself I wouldn’t look anymore, but as I did, my lower abdomen touched the back of her head, causing her to shift a little. The accidental brush of her head against my thigh and a bit of my junk had blood rushing down my nether region. So, like an idiot that I am, I looked again. Big mistake!

The neckline of her dress had loosened up a bit, and I could see a part of her boob spilling out of her lilac bra. The curve was so perfect that I just wanted to reach down and caress it. I imagined how soft they would be under my palm or how bouncy they would feel against my tongue.

I gave up on the act of watching the movie and watched her curves, hunger coiling deep in my stomach as I fantasized about what I would do with those if they were mine. My rational mind kept telling me this wasn't right, but the view was too amazing to stop.

By this time, I was rock hard, a tad too hard, which was starting to get uncomfortable. Right when I was about to leave the couch for a quick shower and maybe have a moment with my right hand, she moved again.  And this time, her head rested directly on my crotch, pressing against my hard-on.