Warning -- This is a story about the love of my life and my terminal shyness, so it progresses very slowly.
Recap
If you haven't read the other stories -- my petite gorgeous blond girlfriend (Heather) from college had moved in with me many months after we graduated. Her 19-year-old bombshell sister (Tammi) just got a 2-year degree a little over a month ago and moved in with us. I'm trying to save every penny so I can afford to ask my girlfriend to marry me.
I'm extremely shy and my girlfriend loves to taunt me and make me blush. When Tammi moved in with us, Heather wouldn't let me have regular sex with her anymore. To keep me from going crazy Heather has found a way to release some of my sexual needs.
I have become accustomed to the new sex routine between Heather and me. My girlfriend humps me in the morning and gives me two hand jobs a day while talking dirty. It always ends up with her making me cum while talking about her sister and her scantily clad body. I don't think she knows yet but she's accidentally conditioned me to the point I started associating her sister with sex although I swear I would never act on that.
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I had scheduled the day off on Wednesday as HR was on my case about using personal days or losing them. I wondered if I was using money as an excuse not to propose to Heather. A long run with no distractions might help me figure that out.
Tammi was between jobs as she quit her first job out of school. I would normally think she should just suck it up, but it was a completely depressing, worthless job that wasn't going to benefit her career path. Trash pickup, cashier, electrician, waitress, bricklayer, maid, nurse, doctor -- all jobs a person could be proud of but this job literally benefited no one.
Tammi insisted on going running with me that morning and I got competitive at the end of the run; outrunning her right before we got to our apartment complex entranceway. Perhaps I was frustrated as I wanted some alone time and was being childish or I was trying to show off and being childish. I'm not sure what I was trying to prove beating someone just over 5' and nearly half my weight. When I looked back, she was sitting on the sidewalk inspecting her ankle. She apparently twisted her ankle on the edge of the sidewalk.
I felt terrible about it and so I suggested a piggyback ride to the apartment. She probably couldn't support my weight with only one good leg, so I insisted she ride on top, this time. I plopped her on the couch and got her a big bag of frozen peas for her ankle after I loosened all her laces and carefully removed her socks and sneakers.
I made an "eww" sound as I put the sneakers by the door and the socks in the hamper. Hey, give me a break, she hurt her ankle, she wasn't terminal from goodness' sake! Tammi yelled to me from the living room. "You wish, mister! These tootsies smell like roses unlike someone I know!" We both got a chuckle as I returned with some chilled water and a moist towel full of ice in a big bowl for when the peas defrosted. She could see the concern on my face and said, "I'm starting to feel better already! See no swelling!" she said cheerfully while lifting her bum foot.
"Great, I'll take a quick shower and I'll check on you as soon as I get back." I assured her.
"Wait, I think my ankle is worse than we thought!" she smiled but pretended to be in terrible pain. "I'd hate to have to tell my sister how you abandoned me while I suffered alone ... in agony!" She giggled and she lifted her legs so I could sit with her dainty feet on my lap. They seemed puny because like her sister, her feet had curled toes and little feet that went well with her little body. She thanked me for taking care of her and never complaining about her staying as our guest. She was a good kid (despite disrupting my sex life -although it isn't all bad as I mentioned in previous stories).
After about 30 minutes of endlessly flipping channels, she begged me to help her to the shower, but I suggested we just wait for Heather to get back. She said, "I don't want to be all gross for hours -- please?" she asked like a little kid. I was getting a bit ripe myself, so I understood.
"I can clean myself if you just get me to the bathroom," she said as if I'd think less of her if she needed help. To save time I carried her to the bathroom and put her on the counter before I turned on the shower and started to leave.
"Wait, you could at least help me get my t-shirt off before you leave," she whimpered. I was painfully uncomfortable even though it was just her shirt. I could see the straps of her sports bra so I figured it would be OK. I pulled up her shirt very slowly. I don't know why I was so careful; she didn't sprain her arm. She just seemed so tiny perched on the countertop.
"Thanks -- the shorts are harder, could you help please?" I could feel my breathing changed as I felt a bit of anxiety for some reason. I knew both her and Heather would mock me if I didn't, but I felt guilty at the same time. This seemed terribly intimate even though I had seen her in undies before.
I screwed up my courage and I just did it without any ceremony. I carefully eased her off the counter and I slid her shorts down. I'd say the silence was deafening but the sound of my blood rushing to my head seemed so loud she might hear it as well. She put her hands, gently, on my shoulders as she lifted her legs one at a time so I could get her shorts completely off. She was wearing simple white cotton bottoms with yellow smiley faces on it - classic Tammi.
I turned on the shower and waited for the right water temperature before I was ready to escort her into the tub. When I turned back, she had already used her thumbs to slide her undies down. Her little round buns are sight to behold as she held a flamingo pose. I don't know why; I just didn't expect her to strip them already.
Tammi doesn't seem to have any personal boundaries with me, and I keep applying my uptight standards to her. She managed to get her little panties off one foot which she used to slide them down her other leg. Tammi has legs that would make anyone look twice as she entered a room or they drove their car into another vehicle stopped in front of them.
She then asked me to hold her up so she could remove her sports bra. I wanted to be just about anywhere but in front of this half-naked gorgeous girl. I wasn't sure what to hold onto, so I said, "I'll take it off, while you lean against counter." I've removed regular bras before but for some reason I fumbled about with her for what seemed like an eternity. No wonder -- some idiot forgot to put in a clasp! You'd think she'd mention this bra was defective, but she just laughed at my clumsiness.
Finally, after a series of Houdini straight jacket maneuvers by Tammi, it was off, and I tried not to stare at her stupendous bosom. Was I staring? If I look away it will be obvious. Wow! She's really just going to let me stare at them. How does she manage to look so sexy and innocent at the same time? What did I come in here for -- oh yeah, I was supposed to help her. I needed to break the tension. "P-U!" I said as I put her clothing in the hamper; she defiantly stuck out her tongue at me.
I gave her my arm as she climbed under the shower. I'm not comfortable around people under normal circumstances, so you can imagine being in a tub with a naked young lady holding onto your arm. I closed my eyes after I got in the tub with her. Still, I could easily picture exactly what she looked like.
I could picture every square inch - her smiling face, her smooth shoulders, her firm but significant tatas, her flat little tummy, her smooth pussy, her wonderful buns and shapely legs to her teeny, tiny feet. Why couldn't I think about anything else? I should try to think about ancient Rome; nope no room for that in my imagination right now. I was worried my shorts and underwear weren't doing enough to hide my issues with inflation.
"You need to open your eyes now," she said sounding frustrated. I figured she felt better after being hosed down and had finished in record time. She said, "I can't wash myself while holding on to your arm with both hands. I can't even soap up the washcloth with just one hand. I'm going to need you to actually give me some help -- you don't want me slipping and smacking my head on the tub, do you?" She gently tilted the shower head to point across both of us.
I couldn't have Heather come home to a bloody mess in the bathroom, she loved her sister too much and there'd probably be an investigation and paperwork to fill out. I hate paperwork. I figured provided I'm wearing my shirt, shorts and keep my eyes from popping out too much I'm not really doing anything Heather wouldn't want me to do; despite how I'd feel if she did the same. OK, truth be told, I'd have no issue if Heather wanted to save on utility bills by showering with her sister and me watching (to make sure they aren't wasting water).
I then felt Tammi gently lifting my shirt up as she wobbled on her good foot. "You can't wear that dirty thing in here when I'm trying to get clean silly!" she said, accentuating the obviousness of this statement. She seemed stable enough leaning against me, so I stared at the shower head instead of her soft pink nipples that were calling to me.
She then ran her soapy fingers softly all over my chest and rubbed under my arms. She maneuvered me quite well for a tiny girl balancing on one foot! Her talented fingers moved slowly, it felt like she was deliberate in every motion. I tend to soap up like I'm trying to put out a fire as quickly as possible.