<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;"><em><strong>Name:</strong> Reese Spalding <strong>Location:</strong> Home <strong>Tags:</strong> Sneaking a peek</em></span></span><br/><hr/><div class="floatright">(http://cs618829.vk.me/v618829147/16e88/_llsAdvkGs8.jpg)</div>"<strong>Is it really wise telling an impressionable young boy that there is a naked woman in the house, mommy</strong>?"<br/><br/>I grin like the cat that ate the canary. Everything comes to a standstill. I daresay even Chanel's caught by surprise and she knows me like the back of her hand. Twin telepathy enhanced several fold by our illicit lust. She would know it wasn't a throwaway statement. But it is harmless. Well, relatively. I am, after all, a mischief maker.<br/><br/>Discipline is Andi's domain, and testing her limits has always been far too entertaining. From sneaking out past curfew and flinging those puppy dog eyes at her to evade punishment to using a company credit card to pay for porn - although that time the prank ended with all of us celebrating because the poor sap I stole the money from was harassing her at work - there is plenty of history. That helps, because she would know there is no malice in my words.<br/><br/>"<strong>No wonder the school counselor thinks I'm a threat. She hovers around every time I try to ask a girl out and then tells them such wicked things about me. That all I want is to see them wearing inappropriate clothes and speaking inappropriate things. Wonder where I might have picked that up</strong>..."<br/><br/>I indulge in a knowing smirk with Chanel and instantly realize what my darling sister is upto. Her eyes are glazed and her lips trembling. Those slender curves are so so taut and muted gasps are all the conversation she is able to muster. I have seen her exhibit all of these symptoms before, save the care she takes to stay quiet.<br/><br/>"<strong>Cum</strong>" I mouth to her. "<strong>Cum for me</strong>"<br/><br/>And so she does. Right in the middle of the house. Without even touching herself. It was beautiful.<br/><br/>"<em>If she does that at the dinner table, imagine what mummy's doing in the bath tub...</em>" An idle fantasy had escalated into an obsession.<br/><br/>"<strong>I'm going to check on mum</strong>," I keep my tone even but a hitch in my breath makes it an impossible task. Years of practice sensing a negative answer equips me with the knowledge that I'd need something a bit more convincing than the concerned son act. "<strong>She can't miss dessert, now can she</strong>?"