The postpartum sister is different. The chestnut skin is rosy, the body is rounder and fuller than before. Especially the bust that blooms and always peeks behind the thin nightgown, making it difficult for me to take my eyes off. When she turned her back or bent over, her rounded hips and toned buttocks made my heart jump from my chest.
That evening, the house lost power. When I went to the living room, I saw her struggling to find candles, only wearing a nightgown that hugged her body. The light from the phone shone on my smooth white skin, sweat on my neck and collarbone, making me feel hypnotized.
"What are you doing now that you haven't slept?", she asked, her breath light and her eyes as gentle as pouring honey.
"I can't sleep... It's too hot, sister." I swallowed dryly, my eyes still glued to her plump breasts that were fluttering with every breath.
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