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Despite my whining protests, I felt strangelyexcited, my little peenie thickening in arousal.Aunt June sorted through the t-shirts in my suitcase and declared themall "quite unsuitable!" She said she would buy me some more appropriatetops to wear while I was staying in Willowtree, and searched heryoungest daughter's wardrobe for something for me to wear in themeantime. She handed me an old white collared polo shirt of Brenda's towear, but it was so long, it hung down almost to my knees. It coveredmy shorts completely, so that it almost looked like I was wearing adress. When Alison spotted my feminine hairstyle and realised I waswearing her sister's old top, she giggled and commented scathingly,"Look at you! Now you really do look like a little girl!"Over lunch that afternoon Aunty informed her daughters that she hadcaught me feeling up their undies. "Why, Peter? Why were you touchingour panties?" Alison demanded. My throat tightened in shame and Icouldn't respond. The girls. As we dished out the meal and prepared for the movie, I could not help glancing at Rosa from time to time. She was dark-skinned and had large tits like her sister (she was wearing a nylon top that had a v-neck, exposing a great deal of lovely cleavage). Unlike here sister, however, her figure was nearly perfect - she had a slim waist and a perfect ass (curvy, but not huge). Her long, shapely legs were bare, since she was wearing a pair of shorts that matched her top.As the girls set out the food, I was also in my small kitchen helping with plates, silverware and such. Because of the tight confines, we couldn't help rubbing against each other as we passed back and forth. At first, I thought it was my imagination, but it seemed that Rosa was leaning forward slightly so her breasts would brush against my back or my chest. When it happened the third or fourth time, I acted as though I lost my footing a bit and pressed my chest firmly against her tits, and she giggled. I looked.
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“Well then, I’ve cooked more than we need, so don’t feel compelled to eat it all. You can start eating while I go fetch Dan, but don’t you dare touch that lovely milk until he gets here.”Dad and I cautiously lifted the lids off the food and both of us quietly whistled in awe. Mum had gone to town with the food dye and with the extras. There was a dish of vibrant purple scrambled eggs. Some poached eggs with green streaks through the eggwhite and the yolks were obviously very runny. There were some canned sardines covered with something that could only be described as slime. There was a plate of pancakes of several different colors, none of them natural. There were sausages, bacon and sliced ham – all coated with extra grease. There was a bowl of spaghetti in tomato sauce with extra unidentifiable bluish lumps in it. There was other food too, but I forget what.Dad and I served ourselves with a variety of stuff. Everything I chose, I put some on Tara’s plate too. She was basically.

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