There was something about him that pulled me like a strong magnet – oodles of confidence, squeaky clean hair, and naughty eyes. I’m a hopeless rom...ntic, and he was my perfect crush. My name is Ridhima, and I live in Garden Reach, a relatively posh area of West Kolkata. I’m 19 years old. Its sounds like a very young age, but I’m blessed with a well-endowed woman’s body. I’m quite tall for a Bengali girl, five feet six inches, and very white-skinned.Due to my natural genes, I have. The scent ofthe strawberry shampoo I'd used last night (or early this morning?) wasfaint, but still noticeable as the pigtails bounced around my head.I'd pulled the crutch (which Aunt Joan had insisted I still needed tokeep using) away from the wall and was swinging my way towards thebedroom door when I heard a familiar knocking. "Sweetie, is it okay if wecome in, or are you still changing?"Something seemed to flutter in my stomach and my knees felt wobbly. "Tessand Rhianna got here already?". "Don't let him hear you say that," said Phoebe, who was his sister and soofficially Lady Phoebe Farnsworth, "his head is swelled enough as it is."I took a drag on my cigarette and smiled. The brother-sister rivalrybetween Hugo and Phoebe had always amused me, and I found myself idlywondering what it might be like to have a brother of my own. Oh, I hadstep-brothers - Samantha's sons Peter and David - but they weren't likeproper brothers, weren't boys I'd grown up with. I had a sister, Poppy,. "So you're in charge, now? Already?"Beatrice looked flustered. "I'd just die if you..."Liquid courage allowed me to reach out and gather her into my arms and lean in and start sucking her neck. Beatrice went, "Ooooooohhhhh!" and molded herself to me.Frankly, I'm not real sure how long we stood like that. I know she smelled good and felt good and tasted good and the sounds she was making said I was welcome wherever I went! It was dark, and I was too close to her to see anything, anyway! I.