How many times had I tried to find some way to sneak a peek at her body or any part thereof? How many times had I jerked off to the memory of some nea... miss down her blouse or up her skirt or some imagined crease in her bathing suit? My sister fueled most of my teenage fantasies. Now she was approaching the bed where I slept on my back, sporting an enormous erection. Her hand was in the same position where Mom's hand had been.Was this some sort of conspiracy? Had they colluded in some manner. It was not that she actually wanted to walk anywhere in the oppressive heat of the Kobekistani summer, rather that she wanted the freedom to choose not to do so.As Veronica was preparing to dine alone, in her guest room, as a break from the hectic round of dinners with the Emir, her step-mother, her sister and her niece in various combinations, the telephone rang in the guest suite."Hullo," she said, wondering who might be telephoning her here."Good evening, Countess," said a pleasant tenor. More

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