Someone comes down

As Luke sat on the laundry room floor, his mind racing with the implications of his newfound power, he heard footsteps approaching. Emma, his elder sister, walked into the laundry room.

Emma was a vision, her hourglass figure accentuated by her tight jeans and low-cut top. Her brown hair cascaded down her shoulders in loose curls, and her CC breasts strained against the fabric of her shirt. She carried a basket of dirty clothes, her nose wrinkled slightly at the chore ahead of her.

"Hey, Luke," she said, offering him a small smile. "What are you up to?"

Luke's heart was still racing, but he tried to act casual. "Oh, hey, Emma. Just, uh, doing the laundry," he said, gesturing to the pile of clothes on the floor.

Emma raised an eyebrow, looking at the mess. "Looks like you're making more of a mess than anything else," she teased. She set her basket down and began to sort her clothes, her back turned to Luke.

Luke's eyes flicked to the clothes in Emma's basket. He spotted a lacy black bra peeking out from the top of the pile, and his heart began to pound again. He could transform into Emma, experience what it was like to have her curves, her breasts, her everything. The temptation was overwhelming.