You decide to ignore the comment and just move on. You were probably imagining things anyway—no one gets that lucky, right? In only a few minutes, you’ve loaded her bags in the trunk of your car and start the drive home. You make some idle chitchat, talking about the weather and the local sports teams. Mimi perks up when you off handedly mention basketball. You catch her tits bouncing when she performs a mock layup. Turns out she’s a fan of the game—not any teams, mind you, just the game itself. You know you would certainly appreciate the sight of your cousin bouncing up and down the court in a jersey and short shorts. Soon the talk dissolves in the heat of the car.
“No ac,” you apologize. “And the windows are busted—can’t open them.”
“It’s okay,” she assures you, placing her hand on top of yours. She gives your arm a gentle rub before removing it. Soon afterwards you’re both covered in sweat. You manage to sneak a few glances at her top which is now plastered to her chest and clearly outlines her nipples. Every time she catches you looking, you just ask her if she’s doing alright and look like a caring cousin which she always rewards with a sweet smile. Eventually Mimi resorts to fanning herself with a pamphlet she must have gotten from the plane while idly staring at the road ahead
You find yourself looking at a bead of sweat that forms at her brow and trickles down her cheeks, past her parted pink lips which are panting for breath, before dropping off her chin and rolling onto her chest. You are suddenly aware that she’s pulling on the top of her top as she fans herself, letting the sweat fall between her breasts where you catch a glimpse of an exposed nipple. You check to make sure her eyes are still on the road before you realize that they’re wide and full of fear.
“Theo!” she cries as you slam your breaks before almost smashing into the white van in front of you. Both of you are flung forward by the sudden stop but the car screeches to a halt before any damage is done.
“Sorry.” You face is burning as you make up some excuse about the heat. You half expect her to yell or scream at you or storm out of the car and walk home. You don’t expect to hear her laughing, face red as she straightens.
“No,” she assures you, “it’s ok.” She breaks into another fit of giggles, hand covering her chest. You try not to look too embarrassed as you drum the steering wheel, waiting for the green light.
|