" ... that means I don't like them. But if I get harder for you, that means I like them and they make me want to fuck your brains out."He got a smile ...nd a small chuckle out of her for that, but she didn't release her breasts. "I'm just ... they're not..." She couldn't bring herself to complete the sentence."They're not what?" The same," she confessed."The same as what?" he asks.She swallowed and took a deep breath. "As each other," she finally explained, and she hung her head down in. With his arm across my towel-draped, shivering shoulders, he led me into the house, up the stairs and into the spacious modern bathroom, where he ran the hot water for me.Our parallel dance escalated on either side of the shower's glass enclosure. He tugged his shirt up and over his head and stepped out of the khakis, letting me appreciate the results of a disciplined workout regime. It was easy for me to admire the musculature that said its owner preferred good maintenance over egotistical. When she had promised her brother to go to his fiancée's hen night she had feared it wouldn't be her thing but that it would be this awful she had never expected. She had been prepared for an evening of giggling girls, alcohol and strippers. But it had turned out to be even worse: twenty women were sitting in Tiffany's flat, listening to her reading from some tarot cards or asking this with-board questions about their futures. Jane had always known that her brother's taste in women wasn't good. I grabbed a short sleeve, pastel pink bodysuit; a white pleated skirt; and a pair of white dance slippers then set them on the bed. "Get dressed. You won't be wearing panties today." I spoke firmly as I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties and pulled them down swiftly. She has always hated going without them and my solution to that was to get a few of the bodysuits for her. The fact that she viewed them as a bit childish made it perfect, to my mind at least, for the days she.