Hey, between the genetic engineering and some modest exercise, I had an impressive physique and had chosen a style to accentuate it. She felt good next to me, despite her movements making shirt straps chafe my bare chest, and while Mom gave us a strange look the next morning when she found us, she said nothing about it and neither did we. Their breathing would speed up, their faces flushing, and they would start to clench up their whole bodies. I guess I kind of needed it too. The net result was that my mother and sister, in between them, had a wardrobe consisting of one dress, one half-shirt, and a lot of lingerie. With that work done we folded down a small game panel from the wall and Tiff and I started to play some 3D chess to start to kill some of the many, many hours we had to fill. I worked my way into the trousers, and she rejoined me on the mattress, pressing her breasts again into my side.
