You had considered going for Tara’s purse but that meant you’d have to contend with her feet. The same feet that are exuding a nauseating cheesy scent, and leaving the bathroom tile with sweaty prints. You couldn’t risk it and wanted to stay away from these soles at all cost. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or more likely the toxic air ushered in by Tara’s feet but you decided climbing up the underwear was the best option. When Tara finished, you’d make sure to grab on as she pulled them up, as awkward as the idea is it would get you closer to getting noticed. You make a mad dash for her pulled down skirt and take a hold of the fabric, having contend with the shifts of her soles sending vibrations through the skirt. Meanwhile up above your unaware aunt has just about finished sending a series of texts to some number you were unfamiliar with. Finally finished Tara reaches for the toilet paper to dry her privates, and proceeds to pull her skirt up.
You finally reached her underwear after scaling her skirt. Unfortunately, there was a mild chasm separating the skirt from the underwear, and below you were a darkened pit of black fabric that awaited you if you missed your jump. You had to at least establish a firm grip on the panties when she pulled them up; if you over or undershot your jump you’d either fall to your death or be caught and trapped in her panties. More unsure than you’ve ever been you make the leap from the skirt and land squarely on the waistband gut first and knocking the wind out of you. In that instance Tara had begun to shift and rise looking up you were treated to the horrific sight of her dabbing her genitals with urine visible on the paper causing you to retch. After discarding the paper, you aunt had grabbed the underwear and began to pull. With blinding speed your brought upward between the two-toned towers that were Tara’s legs. The G-force of the action was so great you lost both you grip and balance on the band and plummeted head first into the panties.
You begin to panic when you land and are greeted with the pungent scent of feminine musk and bodywash. Tears begin rolling down your face as you look upward to view the last image of the outside world, you’ll see for who knows how long. As a recently trimmed vagina of monstrous proportions slams right into your diminutive body you pray of a way out which has fallen on deaf ears. Within the confines of the panties you couldn’t move an inch as Tara’s lips pressed against your chest still carrying the rank scent of piss, and the droplets to match if the warm liquid was to go by. As Tara pulled up her skirt out went all light leaving you to your fate pitch-black in the dark.
Reluctant as she was to put on her shoes, she knew Cathy would want to finish their talk. It was nice meeting with the family again, its just too bad her favorite nephew wasn’t home at the moment. As she slipped on her heels, she made note not to wear heels later when visiting Shawna later today. Finally finished with her heels she made her way to the living room to talk with Cathy one last time before leaving the residence (not even bothering to wash her hands in the process). She sat down and conversed talking about life and work and the latest twist on a new Netflix show, all the while unaware of the little boy glued to her privates and forced to endure her personal and intimate miasma.
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