Your sister who you have always bullied.

Your sister used to tell you that you would regret bullying her. You never believed her. The little blonde waif of a thing was gutless. At a young age, you used to pull her hair or throw food at her. As you grew up, your bullying changed. You organised for friends to pretend to be interested in her before telling her no.

Your parents were rarely around, so you never had to worry about getting into too much trouble. Well, all that changed. Your sister, Laura, turned eighteen just a few days ago. You hid some small caps in her birthday cake, so you set them off when she went to cut it—showering your lithe little sister in cake in front of her friends. You thought it was hilarious. Her, well, not so much.

A couple of days passed with your sister being pissed at you. You figured she would get over it. Then you noticed something strange. Her tits were bigger. You were never interested in your sister, but you knew she was always flat-chested, something you teased her about ruthlessly. But today, today, she wasn’t. In fact, almost overnight, she seemed to grow tits. They still weren’t huge, you couldn’t fuck them, but they were distinctly more prominent.

You also noticed she had no bras that fit her newfound tits and so made fun of that instead, made fun of her being braless, now that she finally needed them. This time, however, as you made fun of her, a curious smile crossed her face, and she looked at her hand. You didn’t understand why. There was nothing that interesting about her hands other than the ring she had gotten for her birthday.

You paused, looking at her, wondering slightly. You never did figure out who gave her such an expensive ring, a gold one, real gold, with a large square-cut emerald in it. Maybe she had an admirer, and she knew who it was and was taking solace in that fact, perhaps she just didn’t want to look you in the eye, and the ring was a shiny distraction.

You shrugged it off and went to be. Stripping dowd, you crawled between the sheets and stretche like you always didd. Your mind started to wander, and you soon found yourself thinking about Kathy Mills, the swimming champ in your school. She was sexy, and you still hadn’t figured out how to ask her out. But you would, and of course, she would say yes.

Slowly you stroked yourself as you started to doze, and soon enough, your eyes felt heavy. You knew you would be swollen in the morning but could fix that then. For now, you just relished the thoughts and dreams of the golden-skinned woman with hips made for gripping and legs for days.