Exotic Bollywood Dancer From India

July 17th 1975.The same as it had always been.That wasn't a coincidence. It couldn't be.What the hell was going on here?I'd have a go at solving that riddle later. First I had someone to meet.I turned towards the wardrobe unit. The girl staring back at me from thedressing-table mirror allowed her mouth to fall open even as I felt minedo likewise.We both took a single step forward."Hello, Lisa Pennington," we said to one another.*The bathroom had a curiously old-fashioned feel to it. The WC was flushedby means of a long metal chain, the cistern so high I'd have to stand onthe lid if I ever had to repair it. Hot water was supplied by theimmersion heater in the airing cupboard. The taps feeding both thewashbasin and the tub were of brass, and sorely in need of polishing.Annoyingly, there was no shower.I scrubbed my hands and face, irritated that it would be half an hour ormore before the water would be warm enough for me to run a bath. Thestubble in my armpits reminded me that changing. There we were the three of bonding that morning. After a while Emma sent CeeCee down to watch television until we came downstairs to fix breakfast.Emma told me that I could fuck her again but that I had to wait until she had peed first. So together we went into the bathroom where she let me watch her pee and watch her wipe afterwards too. Then she watched me pee and even held my cock and aimed it for me. Then we went back to her bed where she got on top that time and faced my feet. I watched my sister’s ass as she thrust her hips down toward my feet sending my hard cock deeper into her pussy. As she leaned into it I watched her little brown puckered hole wink at me. Watching her fuck herself with my cock was hypnotic. I reached out my finger and touched her asshole just as she moved back forcing the tip of my finger into her butt hole. Emma told me that it felt good so I did it again and again. She told me to stick it in her pussy to get it lubricated so I went back and forth.
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