Incest Seduction/Ask Kim if you're doing it right

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"Am I pressing right?"

"I dunno, are you?" she replies, purposefully coy. She's still lightly gyrating.

The more she wriggles about the more her shirt slips up her body. It's hanging away from her back underneath her swaying form, exposing all of her pink bra from behind. The top is bunching up in the front against her bra, but her small cup size isn't doing much to keep it in place. The more that she wriggles about the more of it that slips past and the more you can see of her chest.

"Soo... I should just keep my hand here?"

"More or less," she again replies coyly.

"Alright. More, or less?" you add.

"More."

Following orders, you bring up your other hand to join the first one. The two of them overlap but only across your fingers. Your left palm rests against Kim's shorts, and by sheer coincidence atop her puffy little pussy mound.

You press down firmly against your sister with both hands. She giggles again, clearly tickled (metaphorically or physically, you're not sure) by where your palm has landed. But as soon as she picks up her gyrating - apparently throwing subtly aside - her giggles are replaced by breathy gasps. She pushes herself into you with quite a bit of force and you respond in kind, pressing down onto her just as hard. You can feel just how soft her mound is beneath your palm, but with how hard she's pushing you can also feel just how hard her pelvic bone is. In any case, she's rubbing both into your hand and seems perfectly content to not acknowledge that fact at all. So you dutifully comply, holding your hands in place and allowing her to do what she wishes.

Kim's tank finally works its way past her bra, the garment immediately sliding up to her neck with ease. All of her taut, stretched midsection is on display, the lines of her abs and her ribs just visible on her soft milky skin. The pink patterned lace of her undergarment draws your eyes. You can faintly make out one small nipple in the center of each cup, a teasing display of her recently-preteen assets. Based on this, Mom clearly isn't buying her underwear anymore. You hesitate to call her a B cup. Even an A might be generous. Without the bra she looks like she'd barely be a handful. And yet despite all that you wouldn't at all mind getting your hands on them.

You can see Kim's face getting redder and redder. You're guessing that it can't be easy to hold this position for this long, but you wonder if there is also a little something extra to that redness. She lets out one more deep exhale then lowers her body onto your lap again. Your hands follow her, resting in her lap.

"See? I'm really good at that," she says, throwing her arms above her head on the couch. She makes no effort to cover up her bra, leaving her tank top under her neck and shoulders. "I could do it all day."

"Me too," you mutter under your breath.

"But I'm sure you're getting bored. I do a wicked handstand. Wanna see?"

Tell Kim that you're anything but bored. You'll help her with anything.

A handstand could be fun too. Sure, why not.