Harper Stevens - the reserved twin sister

One of the choices definitely caught your eye even among all the variety of women.

“Harper Stevens: 22, twin sister of Marie Stevens. Relationship – strangers.”

The picture John was given was of course not much to go on. Being twins, Harper looked identical to her sister Marie in almost every possible way, with just a few exceptions. Her brown hair was pulled into a ponytail most of the time (boring) and her clothes were noticeably more conservative in her picture than Marie’s, whose profile was located conveniently above Harper’s for easy comparison. Except…John was not an expert by any means, but he was certain that Harper’s tits were bigger. Marie definitely had solid C-cup breasts, and Harper’s… he’d be shocked if they were anything smaller than a E.

He barely knew Harper. He at least knew her face, and just now learned her name. When he had come to visit Becca at her college, he had been lounging by his car and had noticed Harper walking by. The only reason he had noticed was because she had been carrying several huge textbooks in her arms, while her sister talked her ear off obliviously. An odd sight if there was one.

He stared at the large “Possess” button just under her picture. An interesting and intriguing idea, to be such an unknown girl for a while. And her tits. Couldn’t forget that.

Well, what was the worse that could happen?

Smirking, John pressed the button.

--

There was a jolt that made you shut your eyes. Not a big one, but the reaction was instinctive nonetheless. Then you felt a little like you were falling. Like a sudden slip or loss of footing, which would send you crashing to the floor at any moment. You flail a little and try to catch yourself and open your eyes again—

You immediately notice this is not John’s room.

The surprise freezes you for only a second, then you smirk. It worked!

A flash out of the corner of your eye catches your attention, and you look over to see that your phone is laying nearby. Its screen had flicked on with a new message alert, and you unlocked the phone with a pin code you instinctively remembered. The POS app had installed here too.

Perfect.

Curious, you turn to look at yourself, and find an interesting and unexpected sight.

Harper Stevens stares out from her bedroom mirror, a little nervous, but excited. She is topless, but with a boring white, plain bra hiding her large breasts. Below the waist is a black pencil skirt that drops to her knees. Too long to be anything exciting and—you rub a hand across your ass, smiling at the tingles of delight the touch gives your skin, and turn around. The tight skirt might have been more forgivable if Harper had a good ass, which she did not. It wasn’t bad, but nothing really outstanding either. Her chest got all the blessings, apparently.

You bounce a little on her toes, watching as her breasts bounce with you, the weight more than satisfying. Then, eagerly, your hands wander inside of your bra to give both breasts a good squeeze. You have to stop yourself from gasping out loud at the spike of delight that races up your spine, nearly causing you to shiver. Was Harper really this sensitive? Or…maybe she didn’t even touch herself? Maybe she wasn’t used to feeling any sensations like this? You can imagine that, seeing her picture and how different she was from her twin.

Poor girl. Whatever the case she obviously needed some help.

You pinch your round, delicate nipples. Gently, as too hard on the sensitive buds was enough to be painful, you quickly realize, and then you play with them. Rolling them between your fingers, feeling the incredible heat and rush of sensation swooping from your chest, down your stomach, and settling itself in between your legs, in that warm core that nearly shuddered at the sensation. The heat from there bloomed, spilling up to your face and causing Harper to flush terribly, her face turning more and more pink in her arousal, while in between her legs you feel a wetness starting to collect—

“Harper!” a voice suddenly came from outside the door. One you immediately remembered—recognized?—as Marie’s. “What’s taking so long? You never take this long to get dressed.”

Heat flushes to your face again, from embarrassment this time. You were just glad she did not open the door. “Just a minute!” you call, and then looked around.

This is your room, not Marie’s, so obviously she doesn’t need to come in for something. So you two were planning on going somewhere. You could just pretend to be sick to spend the day with yourself or…maybe Marie was more interesting.

Great, now what were you supposed to do?