Bulge in her pants!

Her whisper hung in the air like a challenge, her hips pressing firmer into my hand, the heat of her bulge searing through the fabric. My fingers trembled as they traced the thickening length, the forbidden weight of it all crashing over me—Steve's sister, this futanari secret pulsing under my touch, the emotional pull twisting with raw physical need.

I couldn't fight it anymore; the tension had built too long, her vulnerability and confidence weaving a spell that snapped my restraint.

'Georgia,' I breathed, my voice rough, pulling my hand back just enough to meet her gaze. The kitchen light cast shadows on her face, highlighting the desire darkening her eyes.

'I want you. God, I can't stop thinking about you—all of you. This is wrong, but fuck, I need it.' The confession spilled out, heavy with guilt and relief, my heart pounding as the words bridged the gap we'd danced around.

Her eyes widened, then softened with a mix of triumph and tenderness, the emotional rawness from last night echoing in her smile. 'Finally,' she murmured, standing slowly, her body brushing mine as she turned to face me fully.

The bulge in her shorts was unmistakable now, straining, and she didn't hide it—her confidence blooming under my admission.