..my hand reached down further across her body and reached my first encounter with pubic hair...at first it felt like finely woven silk as it lay flat...ened against her skin by her tight panties. But a little rustling around by my excited and trembling fingers the curls began to stand up as nature intended. I played with this dark patch for a bit as she moaned with I guess delight until I reached the upper boundary of her vulval cleft...this all of a sudden was too much for me to comprehend. . ”“Yes.”“But there are other ways that you can serve him, aren’t there?”There was a pause, and I could almost see the gears in my sister’s hypnotized head turning.“Yes,” she eventually admitted.“Like what?”“I could make breakfast for him.”“Good,” I said, and I swear she preened slightly at the praise.My sister making breakfast for me was a nice bonus. She’s pretty good in the kitchen.I mean, I guess it had always been part of the long-term plan. My sister, naked in the kitchen, obeying my every. Plus, they weren’t stupid; they must’ve smelt the lack of heat between their parents and sighed in relief at a chance to escape the awkwardness.After parking and drifting over to the entrance with our luggage, I marvelled at how unremarkable the building’s exterior appeared. It was maybe three storeys tall featuring an off-white and brown colour scheme for the walls, ledges, and roofing. Not even the street lights or the ones shining from its windows gave it any extra oomph. We pushed through. She is quite friendly and loves to flirt. Our game that we like to play is to go out to a club with a live band, stand near the bar and she will pick out a single guy and start making small talk and being flirtatious at the same time. Then get him on the dance for for some dirty dancing while I watch.This last time we went out a couple of months ago and found the "right guy" As we made small talk she mentioned that she likes to dance but I dont, and after a few drinks ask him up on the dance.