You stood up and I wrapped it round your body. My eyes, tried not to linger over your stunning breasts. "I'll get you something warm to drink. All I have is coffee but I'll fix it up for you." I continued to talk, as I moved into the kitchen. Taking a bottle of Irish whiskey from the bar, I poured a shot into your cup and filled it with the strong coffee. I returned with the cup and held it in your shaking hands. They were still cold but soft, very, very soft. You looked up at me. Your eyes were beautiful. They made me smile. You smiled back. I helped bring the cup to your lips. "It's not the best, but it will get you warm," I said.You took a big swallow, then sputtered and coughed. "Whoa there. Take it slow. Sip it.", I said. "You drink that; I'll get some more wood and stroke the fire. When you’re ready, you can tell me all about it." You sat there quietly, sipping your Irish coffee and watching my every move. You noticed the flex of my muscles, as I carried in a large stack of. All the shorts were practically thongs in back, all the skirts barely covered my crotch, much less my high-riding twin orbs of girlish assflesh. The tops all stopped at my nipples and my undies were nothing more than a couple of skimpy g-strings. When I confronted Sophie when she returned home that night, she just laughed, saying I would just have to stay at home with her then.A week of being Auntie's private Barbie dressup fuckdoll went by when I got the most devastating news to date. It was a surprisingly wet, dreary day in this summer of the sun when I answered the door while Auntie was out. Two policemen entered, looking somewhat surprised at my wardrobe. I had on a sweatshirt due to the cool weather, though the hem allowed the bottoms of my pendulous tits to show. Fortunately, they didn't see the back of my sweatpant briefs as I ushered them in to sit.The one man tried to comfort me without touching my naked flesh as the other informed me my parents had both been killed in a.
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