"Hypothetical!" she purred with glee. It was a technique I'd used many a time to get her to examine her relationship with my step-dad. "...With Darlen...!" Darlene was my mother's sister, and although 7 years her junior, they looked exactly alike. Same short stature, same curves, same smile, same giggle, same undeniable sexuality almost dripping from every pore. Any real life "snapshots" of Darlene that I'd creatively modified over the years were a constant source of frustration for me, because. ” She winks at me and walks away. I throw my half-smoked cigarette in the tray and rush after her. She's already out the door by the time I get up, and wiggling past other passengers in the thin aisle of the next car. She casts a look over her shoulder – they always expect us to follow. I dodge a small family with unreasonably-sized suitcases and run to catch up. And, of course we do. She stops in the doorway of a handicap bathroom just long enough for me to catch up, then slips in. I sneak. Even then, the train is crowded, but by the third stop, we are packed in like sardines. I’m wearing a simple white blouse with a colorful scarf around the collar, dark grey skirt suit, black hose and black, patent leather, three-inch heel pumps, little different from what dozens of other businesswomen on the train are wearing. In spite of that, I stand out from the crowd. My hair is like a cascade of liquid chocolate falling in waves almost to my ass. I’m not a classical high-cheeked beauty,. I closed the car door and kept looking at her she looked towards me and gave a refreshing smile and I found her lips moving.After few seconds I heard her calling my name. I came back to my senses and wished her good morning. She too wished me back and asked me where I was lost. I replied nowhere and she called me inside the house. I followed her and asked her if everyone is ready. She called my uncle and aunt and asked me to take a seat. I told her not to bring water or make tea as we’re.
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