Her brothers must not be very careful of the way they unbutton their shirts, or maybe they were in a big hurry.She dutifully washed, dried, and folded...the tiny blue lace panties she found in the pocket of Thomas's good khaki slacks. There had been one instance of Mary Margaret washing an unknown woman's undergarment which she did comment on, but her older brother told her to mind her own business.Supper that night was quiet, unusually quiet, with little to look forward to except the nine. She put a hand on his chest and held him down. "Just relax," she said. She poured more oil onto her hand and set the bottle aside. Then she began rubbing his chest.The oil was cool, but Henry barely noticed. He shut his eyes, but the backs of his eyelids played images of Aly's pert, round, succulent... Stop it! he cried silently.He felt a pressure on his erection, and he realized that it must be her pussy. He wanted to reach down and... Stop it, he told himself again, sternly this time.Aly's. More

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