He stood behind her looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her boobs were firm with the perfect tennis ball’s size and shape, faintly bigg...r than those young school girls. Strangely it appeared bigger without a blouse. She didn’t seem to care as her bra was hiding her boob tightly. Her mangalsutra (wedding necklace) made its way down in-between the fissure of her two boobs as usual. His hands went to her head and started massaging her scalp with a heavy heartbeat out of. I loved her tomboy figure to a point I thought I might be a little gay. I saw her often in her summer swimming suit. She did not look very old, mostly because she was a teen, she was tall, slim, and with just so little up top. No matter of her youthful stature, she was my little doll. My wife would notice my dirty horny looks at her. I was just her Uncle who she knew her whole life, and I was one that bathed her when she was just a baby caring for her. After my morning of thought I went into. More

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