My Sister Made a Bra from a Large Easter Egg

My Sister Made A Bra From A Large Easter Egg

But She Forgot Chocolate Melts

“Come and help your sister,” Mom called out, but what could I do to help? “Father. Stop pretending you can’t hear and come and help too.”

I had to go and help, whatever it was, so I followed the noise to my sister’s bedroom and poked my face inside the doorway. Dad was close behind me, and he peeped over my shoulder, but we both stood back, me trying not to laugh, and I’m sure Dad had the same trouble.

My sister was sitting on the side of her bed, her hands up to her face wiping her tears, while Mom stood alongside trying to console her. What was causing me trouble was her clothing, or lack of clothing really. She only had panties and a bra. The panties were fine. Skimpy and cute and covered with little red hearts. It was the bra that was the issue.

Sis was keen on making things. Craft sort of things. Coloured paper cut into tiny shapes and sprinkled with glitter or rice or pasta. That girly sort of thing. But now she had tried making a special bra, no doubt as an Easter treat for her current boyfriend to enjoy. Like most of her creations, the basic idea was good, only the actual practice left something to be desired. She’d crafted a home-made bra using a large chocolate Easter egg, cut in half and held in place with ribbon. I could see her logic. The boyfriend could slowly nibble the chocolate to reveal her sweet young breasts before the ungrateful pig fucked her all night. But she had forgotten that her boobs were hot and chocolate melts and her lovingly crafted bra was now a wilting dripping mess of brown. I mean you had to laugh, really.

“Both you men stop staring and get in here,” Mom commanded. “Let’s try to turn this disaster into something worthwhile.”

Mom’s outburst made Sis wail even more, but Dad and me did come in closer.

“Now you lie back on the bed dear and I’ll get these men to get you cleaned, they both like chocolate and they’ll be very gentle.”

While Sis was lying, Mom was waving us close. “One each side and lick a tit each, while I wait for the doorbell.”

I looked at Dad, and he was grinning too. Mom must be so upset she wasn’t thinking clear herself. Fancy ordering us men to lick chocolate covered tits.


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