More dirty thoughts.

As she continued to scan the floor, my head raced with the possibilities. My sister, obliviously at my mercy. This was a dream made true. And with her partially exposed flesh before me, I wanted more. Mister groin throbbed below. It was even more incredulous that I was going to go through with it.

My eyes rolled up her body. They ogled the soft looking skin of her legs. Legs she had never been too shy about showing in the past, but for them to be free to use and look at any way or time I wished, you could say they were mine as they were hers now.

In the company of a dirty mind, I held a breath.

Pull up your shorts until they're over your entire ass, I thought at Abigail.

In a cinch my sister brought her hands behind her and clutched the bottoms of her airy gym shorts. Then she pulled it up, high up enough that their inner crease invaded the crevice of her buttcheeks, then rested her hem-holding hands on top of her now exposed globes. Now with the center of her shorts riding up her buttcrack, her ass was presented to me in all its smooth pantie-clad glory and I gave my lips a lick mid-stare.

She flipped her hair while 'tsk'-ing, kicking away another messy article, still clutching her shorts up over her buttocks, still letting me see her ass without a care in the world in a way that was far from conventional. Was this really not going to stop? Who knew. I didn't. I wasn't.

Now, I planted again, make circles on your ass cheeks with your hands.

Pressing her forearms against the upper swell of her ass to hold up the pants, she then placed the palms of her hands on her soft, protruding rear and stroked it, bringing her right hand over in clockwise motions while her left moved averse.

Now stroke your legs up and down with your hands, but do it sexily. A small bead of sweat forming on my brow, I continued, Then, once you've brought them back up to your ass, remove your shorts then throw them out the window.

Like clockwork, Abigail stopped her hands right at the bottom center of her cheeks.

With an extra thought she opened her lips, a sultry brow curled upon her forehead. "Mmmm yeah," she moaned.

She moved her two hands slowly down her thighs, making sure to grip and feel her fleshy legs as she did. The palms of her hands tightly pressed up against her flesh as they moved to the back of her knees, then down to her shins, the soft sound of skin-to-skin contact feeling like music in the air while her fingertips tickled the carpet then returned upward. I watched dry-lipped. Her back was bent over to allow her hands reach, but now elegantly curved back upward with her hands just like a professional striptease. I was inexorably turned on. I wasn't sure if the quality of the performance was due to my power somehow instilling it automatically or her own aptitude; maybe it was both.

Once my sister's hands were back up to her ass, she brought them to her hair to flip them over her shoulder once again, letting the bottoms of her shorts fall back down. Then she fixed her eyes on her shorts and with a mostly indifferent expression she shimmied them down, as if preparing for a shower. They pooled at her feet. Humming monotonously to herself, she lifted her leg and dangled them over one foot. Then she plucked them from her foot and went over to her window. I gulped.

There she was. My sister. As perfect to grab as any young woman in a fashionable pair of bra and panties.

Maybe it was just the hotness of the situation speaking, but I felt I may had been wrong about my sister, look-wise... she did keep a good figure, it was just hidden underneath how inconspicuously she carried herself. While she did like make-up and gussying up and all, she wasn't one of those beauty nuts. And yet, underneath it all -- she was a solid 8. At least at this angle.

Or. You know. This angle of 'being-able-to-do-whatever-I-want-with-said-person'.

Holy shit, I internally groaned, this is so hot. It's almost too much!

"Holy shit," Abigail suddenly mumbled as she opened her window and with a casual grimace tossed her shorts out into the yard. Her arm threw it as far she could. "This is so hot... it's almost too much," she laughed, shaking her head and returning to the bed.

"Whoops." This was going to have to be something I learned to control if I didn't want people running around saying everything I was thinking, I realized.

Did she even know what she was talking about? It didn't really even make much sense in her context, though maybe she could have read it as it being 'hot' -- as in, the temperature.

Suddenly, as she flopped onto her bed, now both shorts-less and shirt-less, the kind of attire she would never spontaneously slip into even alone in the house, let alone with her own brother, her cellphone rang. I stiffened, but quickly relaxed once I realized what it was. Apparently I was as tense as I was excited with this new ability. I took another breath, calming myself. My head thrummed. Compared to earlier, however, it was much less taxing; kind of like exercising a muscle. Looking over the bed, Abigail's hand went for her vibrating cell-phone.