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Les pulled her short white dress off over her head. She never wore a bra and her fine young tits were beautiful to see. She wore white panties and I could see her dark bush through the thin material. Reaching into a Macy’s shopping bag she took out jeans and pulled them on, tugging them tight over her ass. Then she slipped into a T-shirt that had a drawing of the front end of a classic 1958 Buick . The shirt had a design feature Detroit hadn’t created: the headlights had nipples.Stuffing Carol’s clothes in the bag we dressed the unconscious girl in pale green scrubs. We had invested in a collapsible wheel chair and I shook it into shape, picking up the limp girl and dumping her into it. We gathered up everything, wiped down the place and left. Les rode in the back seat of the rental car with the still unconscious Carol strapped upright beside her. I pulled up behind the first floor apartment we had rented in the outer Mission. When Carol came around she was on her back on the kitchen. )"I didn't know Bob had a sister. Pleased to meet you Roberta." Eve again looks at me but shows no recognition. She extends her hand. "Hi," I say as softly as I can, lightly grasping the extended hand."I can see the family resemblance," Mary says, "but I never imagined ugly ogre having such a pretty sister."I can feel my blush and I smile.Mary launches into one of her monologues. "Roberta, Eve may look harmless but let me tell you there is no more sadistic person on the face of the planet than her. Beware you are caught in her spell." Our flight was delayed forever. You would think having not got to bed until four am this morning that she would have some compassion. Not an ounce. Not an iota. No, Martha Stewart here is out organizing the world at eight this morning, and who knows how many hours before that. I don't even get a chance to complete my first early morning yawn and she is describing the complete beauty treatment she has given herself. This is in a voice trained to be heard.
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