I struggled and struggled, fighting to open my eyes. With a great effort, I forced my eyes open.Where am I? Paradise?No, Paradise wouldn't smell so antiseptic.Then I saw my father glowering down at me. I looked down, and saw the hospital gown covering me. I didn't die, I realized with a sinking feeling. Why was I still alive? I glanced again at my father; hatred and shame burned in his eyes.He knows. He knows my great shame. I wilt beneath the intensity of his gaze, looking away. My mother sat demurely next to me in a dark jilbab and a colorful shaylah covering her head. She was a proper Muslim woman. Unlike me.I felt the tears running down my eyes as I shamefully remembered how amazing being with Lucy had been. Why couldn't I have just died? It would have been so much easier than having to live with this crushing guilt and the hatred burning in my father's eyes."That girl was here," my father barked in Arabic. "That whorish girl you shamed yourself with!" I am sorry, Father," I said. - Uuuugh... look what you did.Indeed, because of the excitement and position I had dribbled an excessive amount of precum, that simply leaked over my aunt’s ginormous breasts. A long and gooey string, as thick as honey, still bound my inflamed cockhead to Aunt Michelle’s generous bosom.- Oh, let me clean that for you dear, my mother rushed to the rescue and she produced some napkins from her purse.Michelle threw her hair back over her shoulder to avoid smearing it with my precum, a careful move that reminded me of those Asian porn movies where more men ejaculate on a single woman and she enjoys both the harvest and attention. Michelle let her younger sister do her thing, observing her as she wiped her boys glistering precum from the fleshy giants. My embarrassment was through the roof, but I couldn’t help not notice this tender moment between an older and a younger sister. Makes one wonder what other things can an older sister make her younger sister do, as she so casually wipes away.
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