My Petite Fiancée Surprises Me Pt. 05

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A little water clears us of the deed.
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Part 5 of the 11 part series

Updated 11/29/2023
Created 10/14/2023
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Warning -- This is a story about the love of my life and my terminal shyness, so it progresses very slowly.

Recap

If you haven't read the other stories -- my petite gorgeous blond girlfriend (Heather) from college had moved in with me many months after we graduated. Her 19-year-old bombshell sister (Tammi) just got a 2-year degree a little over a month ago and moved in with us. I'm trying to save every penny so I can afford to ask my girlfriend to marry me.

I'm extremely shy and my girlfriend loves to taunt me and make me blush. When Tammi moved in with us, Heather wouldn't let me have regular sex with her anymore. To keep me from going crazy Heather has found a way to release some of my sexual needs.

I have become accustomed to the new sex routine between Heather and me. My girlfriend humps me in the morning and gives me two hand jobs a day while talking dirty. It always ends up with her making me cum while talking about her sister and her scantily clad body. I don't think she knows yet but she's accidentally conditioned me to the point I started associating her sister with sex although I swear I would never act on that.

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I had scheduled the day off on Wednesday as HR was on my case about using personal days or losing them. I wondered if I was using money as an excuse not to propose to Heather. A long run with no distractions might help me figure that out.

Tammi was between jobs as she quit her first job out of school. I would normally think she should just suck it up, but it was a completely depressing, worthless job that wasn't going to benefit her career path. Trash pickup, cashier, electrician, waitress, bricklayer, maid, nurse, doctor -- all jobs a person could be proud of but this job literally benefited no one.

Tammi insisted on going running with me that morning and I got competitive at the end of the run; outrunning her right before we got to our apartment complex entranceway. Perhaps I was frustrated as I wanted some alone time and was being childish or I was trying to show off and being childish. I'm not sure what I was trying to prove beating someone just over 5' and nearly half my weight. When I looked back, she was sitting on the sidewalk inspecting her ankle. She apparently twisted her ankle on the edge of the sidewalk.

I felt terrible about it and so I suggested a piggyback ride to the apartment. She probably couldn't support my weight with only one good leg, so I insisted she ride on top, this time. I plopped her on the couch and got her a big bag of frozen peas for her ankle after I loosened all her laces and carefully removed her socks and sneakers.

I made an "eww" sound as I put the sneakers by the door and the socks in the hamper. Hey, give me a break, she hurt her ankle, she wasn't terminal from goodness' sake! Tammi yelled to me from the living room. "You wish, mister! These tootsies smell like roses unlike someone I know!" We both got a chuckle as I returned with some chilled water and a moist towel full of ice in a big bowl for when the peas defrosted. She could see the concern on my face and said, "I'm starting to feel better already! See no swelling!" she said cheerfully while lifting her bum foot.

"Great, I'll take a quick shower and I'll check on you as soon as I get back." I assured her.

"Wait, I think my ankle is worse than we thought!" she smiled but pretended to be in terrible pain. "I'd hate to have to tell my sister how you abandoned me while I suffered alone ... in agony!" She giggled and she lifted her legs so I could sit with her dainty feet on my lap. They seemed puny because like her sister, her feet had curled toes and little feet that went well with her little body. She thanked me for taking care of her and never complaining about her staying as our guest. She was a good kid (despite disrupting my sex life -although it isn't all bad as I mentioned in previous stories).

After about 30 minutes of endlessly flipping channels, she begged me to help her to the shower, but I suggested we just wait for Heather to get back. She said, "I don't want to be all gross for hours -- please?" she asked like a little kid. I was getting a bit ripe myself, so I understood.

"I can clean myself if you just get me to the bathroom," she said as if I'd think less of her if she needed help. To save time I carried her to the bathroom and put her on the counter before I turned on the shower and started to leave.

"Wait, you could at least help me get my t-shirt off before you leave," she whimpered. I was painfully uncomfortable even though it was just her shirt. I could see the straps of her sports bra so I figured it would be OK. I pulled up her shirt very slowly. I don't know why I was so careful; she didn't sprain her arm. She just seemed so tiny perched on the countertop.

"Thanks -- the shorts are harder, could you help please?" I could feel my breathing changed as I felt a bit of anxiety for some reason. I knew both her and Heather would mock me if I didn't, but I felt guilty at the same time. This seemed terribly intimate even though I had seen her in undies before.

I screwed up my courage and I just did it without any ceremony. I carefully eased her off the counter and I slid her shorts down. I'd say the silence was deafening but the sound of my blood rushing to my head seemed so loud she might hear it as well. She put her hands, gently, on my shoulders as she lifted her legs one at a time so I could get her shorts completely off. She was wearing simple white cotton bottoms with yellow smiley faces on it - classic Tammi.

I turned on the shower and waited for the right water temperature before I was ready to escort her into the tub. When I turned back, she had already used her thumbs to slide her undies down. Her little round buns are sight to behold as she held a flamingo pose. I don't know why; I just didn't expect her to strip them already.

Tammi doesn't seem to have any personal boundaries with me, and I keep applying my uptight standards to her. She managed to get her little panties off one foot which she used to slide them down her other leg. Tammi has legs that would make anyone look twice as she entered a room or they drove their car into another vehicle stopped in front of them.

She then asked me to hold her up so she could remove her sports bra. I wanted to be just about anywhere but in front of this half-naked gorgeous girl. I wasn't sure what to hold onto, so I said, "I'll take it off, while you lean against counter." I've removed regular bras before but for some reason I fumbled about with her for what seemed like an eternity. No wonder -- some idiot forgot to put in a clasp! You'd think she'd mention this bra was defective, but she just laughed at my clumsiness.

Finally, after a series of Houdini straight jacket maneuvers by Tammi, it was off, and I tried not to stare at her stupendous bosom. Was I staring? If I look away it will be obvious. Wow! She's really just going to let me stare at them. How does she manage to look so sexy and innocent at the same time? What did I come in here for -- oh yeah, I was supposed to help her. I needed to break the tension. "P-U!" I said as I put her clothing in the hamper; she defiantly stuck out her tongue at me.

I gave her my arm as she climbed under the shower. I'm not comfortable around people under normal circumstances, so you can imagine being in a tub with a naked young lady holding onto your arm. I closed my eyes after I got in the tub with her. Still, I could easily picture exactly what she looked like.

I could picture every square inch - her smiling face, her smooth shoulders, her firm but significant tatas, her flat little tummy, her smooth pussy, her wonderful buns and shapely legs to her teeny, tiny feet. Why couldn't I think about anything else? I should try to think about ancient Rome; nope no room for that in my imagination right now. I was worried my shorts and underwear weren't doing enough to hide my issues with inflation.

"You need to open your eyes now," she said sounding frustrated. I figured she felt better after being hosed down and had finished in record time. She said, "I can't wash myself while holding on to your arm with both hands. I can't even soap up the washcloth with just one hand. I'm going to need you to actually give me some help -- you don't want me slipping and smacking my head on the tub, do you?" She gently tilted the shower head to point across both of us.

I couldn't have Heather come home to a bloody mess in the bathroom, she loved her sister too much and there'd probably be an investigation and paperwork to fill out. I hate paperwork. I figured provided I'm wearing my shirt, shorts and keep my eyes from popping out too much I'm not really doing anything Heather wouldn't want me to do; despite how I'd feel if she did the same. OK, truth be told, I'd have no issue if Heather wanted to save on utility bills by showering with her sister and me watching (to make sure they aren't wasting water).

I then felt Tammi gently lifting my shirt up as she wobbled on her good foot. "You can't wear that dirty thing in here when I'm trying to get clean silly!" she said, accentuating the obviousness of this statement. She seemed stable enough leaning against me, so I stared at the shower head instead of her soft pink nipples that were calling to me.

She then ran her soapy fingers softly all over my chest and rubbed under my arms. She maneuvered me quite well for a tiny girl balancing on one foot! Her talented fingers moved slowly, it felt like she was deliberate in every motion. I tend to soap up like I'm trying to put out a fire as quickly as possible.

Her gentle hands moved like it was one half massage and the other half a delicate rejuvenation ceremony. "Much better," she said, considering her progress as if she was detailing a new Acura NSX that some fool entered into a Baha race. She was so thorough with my belly button I felt like she should leave the money on the counter.

The next thing I know I can feel my shorts slipping down. It was dragging the tops of my briefs down as well, so I frantically grabbed the top band before my state of awareness became all too apparent. "Don't worry," Tammi said, very matter-of-factly. "I'll wring these out and I'll do a load of laundry with your help later."

Tammi had found a good spot to sit on the floor. I adjusted the water angle, so her body stayed warm. I could feel her tiny hands pull my shorts off completely as she washed my legs. I felt so guilty. My cock was swelling even though my fiancée wasn't around. It must have been confused because Heather and I used to shower together often. The way she had me lift my feet for a scrubbing made me feel like a horse getting shoed.

"Help me back up please?" she asked in a pleasing, soft voice. I gently got her to her feet. I then felt her guiding my shoulders down. I was now kneeling in a tub with my girlfriends naked younger sister. Despite the warm water, I was getting goosebumps as she ran her fingers through my hair. I realized how someone could get the wrong impression and think something sexual might be happening if they walked in on this.

"NOW, you should close your eyes. Time to shampoo your hair, silly!" she said as she leaned against me. I wasn't sure what to do so I wrapped my arms around her tiny lower back to keep her steady. I just stayed silent as she pulled my face against her soft, flat tummy.

As time passed, I became lazy, and my arms lowered a bit and I was holding her firm little buns more than her lower back. I must have had very dirty hair as she seemed to treat my head to a massage for at least 5 minutes. It felt very nice -- I get why dogs always look happy with people always stroking their hair. Then she said, "All done. Can you do me now?"

I almost choked before she added, "please, I gave you a good cleaning except where you have your ridiculous briefs. Can you please help me to wash up?" I accidentally opened my eyes and saw her fabulous body before I was standing up again. The guy who gets to see her naked is going to be one lucky son of a bitch!

She handed me the liquid soap and I just fumbled about trying not to look too much as I rubbed down her entire naked body. I had no choice but to occasionally look at her amazing curves as I soaped her all over. Her flawless skin was so soft to the touch.

I tried thinking about paperwork, my most annoying end users, budgets but I just couldn't help that my throbbing cock was nestled against her back as I tried to give her a shampoo. She leaned against me, with her arms stretched back, gripping my buns for support. "I'm get what my sister sees in you... you are very caring."

I'm not sure what set me off; I just started rambling. "I love your sister and want to ask her to marry me. I'm worried I might have done something recently to scare her off. I don't know what to do and to make things worse, I have nowhere near enough money for a wedding!" Wow, that came out fast. When did I become such a chatty Kathy? I felt as if I could breathe again.

"That's funny," she said. "She's sure you'll never ask. Do you guys ever just talk?" she said with a tone of mockery in her voice. Did Heather want me to ask or she hoping I won't?

I stood in the shower and helped her out as she toweled herself off. "Can you help me to my bedroom," she asked in a gentle but cheery voice. I opened my eyes, and she stood there leaning against the counter still naked but her hair wrapped in a small towel. I guess her lovely locks were feeling shy.

I took her to the bedroom, and she asked me to get out my white dress shirt even though she had all her clean clothes to choose from. I saw her do her whites including my shirt yesterday -- what is her fascination with my old shirt? I'm not complaining, she looks both sexy and sweet in it, I just don't understand why she doesn't buy more big shirts -- most of her clothing seems pretty tight.

She said, "try it on for a minute -- I can't believe that huge thing fits you properly." I have no idea why she'd be surprised someone nearly a full foot taller than her and with much broader shoulders would fit for this shirt. I shrugged put it on anyways as this was by far the most innocent thing I had done in the last hour. At least if she's in no rush to put on clothes I was making an effort. No surprise my shirt fit me. She said, "I guess it fits, but it is hard to say. Button up the wrists and the collar, please".

I'm sure I looked quite suave wearing a dress shirt with a towel tied around my waist. She signaled me over to the bed and straightened out the shirt, running her hands over my shoulders and up my arms. She smoothed it over my back and tugged it at the bottom.

"OK, it does fit you well -- now give me my shirt back," she chuckled. I handed her the shirt back and she put it on before removing the towel from her hair. She didn't button it at all, so she looked like she was posing for a men's magazine. She sniffed the collar and sleeves and smiled for some reason -- I guess she was worried I'd stink it up since I saw her clean it just yesterday. I felt far less high strung now that she had some barrier between us.

I didn't really have a plan for the day as it was; I just hung out with Tammi since she acted so helpless when I left her alone. I made PB&J sandwiches and chips for lunch. Tammi was having a field day saying, "where's my meal, slave?! I think I shall need another pillow, slave."

Several hours later, by the time Heather got home with a top-notch collection of Chinese food dishes, Tammi was walking just about normally. I guess it she just rolled it instead of sprained it. I felt guilty all day but was now both relieved and plotting revenge for the "slave" incident. After dinner we were all watching an old legal show and Heather asked what I did on my day off and I spilled everything.

Heather said, "I don't want to sound like I'm upset. I appreciate you told me every detail and I'm glad you took care of each other, but I'll be honest I'm very disappointed in both of you. I leave for one day and your reason goes out the window. What kind of logic lead you to such a ridiculous solution!?!" I could count on two hands the number of times Heather raised her voice at me in our entire relationship -- this one deserved it. "You know how hard I try to make our apartment a loving home!"

She looked at Tammi and said, "I can't believe you left his underwear on him -- do you really think I want his butt all sweaty from jogging in my nice clean bed?" She then looked at me and said, "And what were you thinking, how can you help her get clean with your eyes closed?! You two either get in that shower right now and get it right or I swear I'll...oh, I'll do...something!" I wasn't afraid of her wraith so much as I hated her to think I was an idiot.

Tammi knocked and came into the bathroom. She smiled and seductively unbuttoned the front of her(my) shirt. She turned and hung it up on the door hook. Her butt was so firm. I don't know what I was thinking but my instinct was telling me to grab it and pinch it. Why was I having so many intrusive thoughts. Soon I'd be lathering up those wonderful breasts.

I finally removed my underwear thank God my tool wasn't standing at attention, but it was hanging heavy. We waited for the water to warm up before getting into the shower. I think I had forgotten how to blink. I didn't feel quite so uptight this time; I felt shy but Heather's disappointment in me hushed that feeling a bit.

Tammi took the washcloth, using it and her empty hand to soap up my chest again. I thought I was keeping my mind empty but for some reason my cock was now standing straight up. She giggled and said to it, "don't be impatient, I'll get to you soon enough, Mister!" She glided her hand over it. It wanted more! I can't believe the traitorous bastard would think that!

Tammi then turned me around and gently had me lean forward against the faucet wall so she could scrub my back. I was really enjoying it when she surprised the hell out of me. She shoved a soapy finger up my butt. Did she do it by accident. She did it again!

I was about to beg her to stop when she said, "Most guys just shower their shoulders and pits and feel that just about everything else gets clean just because the water runs down their body. You really need to clean every crevice for yourself and the ones you love!" That sounded like some new age mantra, but it made sense. Tammi put some soap on the washcloth and gently washed every bit of my sack from behind with her arms wrapped around me and her nipples pressing into my back.

She thoroughly rinsed the cloth and then proceeded to soap the back of my legs. While was squatting on the tub floor she guided me to turn around. She then gently began to soap up my cock, which was now at face height. She soaped and soaped, rubbing every area of my crotch. The soap was slowly washing away, and her hands were now wrapped around my cock slipping end over end. She pulled my legs forward so the water was no long hitting my back as it somehow formed fountain as it ran off my tool onto her face. Without the water though, it was obvious, my cock was now leaking precum.

She just calmly wiped the fluid off but then stared at it on her fingertips. I didn't know how to explain or apologize. She shocked me as she slowly put her fingers in her mouth. She had me frozen in place when she wiped a bit more off and put it in her mouth. She looked me in the eyes and said, "sorry, I wasn't thinking." Heather had never tasted my cum or precum and I wouldn't ask her to do it; that might freak her out.

Tammi face was now getting closer to my cock. I could feel her warm breath on it. Without thinking I just wanted to push it in her mouth even though I know that's not anything she would want. I hadn't had a blowjob in nearly four years -- what the hell does that have to do with anything?

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