Gosh, you haven't changed a bit. Don't you ever eat anything? You're still a rail." It's the breadless arts," she says. "When you make the kind of mon...y I do, you stay thin whether you want to or not." You're still dancing?" I ask. She used to go to ballet practice three times a week, and I never let her know that I did go to all of the shows she was in, even if it meant sitting in the last row among soccer moms and proud grandparents, ducking behind blue-haired ladies so Nicole wouldn't catch. “Take your cock out, slave.” My fists are clenched, knuckles white with uncertainty. “Did you fucking hear me?!” You punctuate every word as if it was the end of a sentence. “Take your fucking cock out and stand up. I want to compare them.” My curiosity and lust supersede the envy I’m feeling, and I obey, hoping that the dick you’ve got in your hands doesn’t overshadow my own. I stand and hesitantly drop my shorts to the floor, my taut erection betraying the shame I can’t help but feel. I can. I could feel the warmth radiating from her body. My penis was still rigid. The urge to squeeze it was so intense I had to give in. My hand slid down and gripped it, intensifying and calming my urge at the same time. I was conscious of my other arm resting against Aunt Vi’s. The thought of her being naked next to me with her breasts just inches away was almost too much to bear. My hand squeezed tighter and I gave my cock a few rubs. As soon as I did, I felt Aunt Vi’s hand close over mine, then. "Lessons..." she repeated, trying to find the memory. Just then, Brenda took her wrist."It's ok," Brenda said, "you don't have to be shy about it. I'll be glad to give you some."Michelle just stared at her, wondering."Now is a good time, actually... this party is kind of dull right now, and I don't feel like swimming. Do you?"Then the "lessons" meaning dawned on Michelle. The kissing lessons! She blushed deeply, but before she could say a word, Brenda's grip on her wrist had her following the.