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Butthen, she understood that Mel was busy... evidently, very busy.She heard typing on the other side of the wall and wondered what Sissywas working on. Not that it really mattered. As she listened to thekeys clicking, she remembered just how fast he could type. Really, hewas a great programmer. He could analyze things and do things with thecode that she barely understood. But he was horrible when it came todesign or anything the least bit artistic. She guessed that's why theyseemed to complement each other so well - work wise anyway.She still had nothing for him to work on yet in this project - but thatwas her fault, mostly because she had gotten a great idea and it wastaking a lot of time to develop. So she had him doing nothing for now.But what was he typing so much for on the other side of the wall?Curious, she got up from her seat to go see. "What are you working on?"she asked as she entered his cubicle.Chad turned around to answer, but the sudden angry look on her face. I just felt it and admired it for a few minutes. I caressed it'ssoft femininity. Then I went to her bed to the other bag. I hoped mywishes were correct. I opened her smaller bag. And inside, there it was!It was her bridal lingerie! It was everything she wore under her dresson her wedding day! My sister was so trusting. It was so obvious she hasnever known my dark secret thoughts and desires. She never even thoughtI would be curious or want to take a peak at what I had been given. Shepresumed I would leave everything in her room at her house and justenjoy the time watching sports and such on her TV. She thought I woulddo as I was asked and take everything to her house, drop the gifts inthe living room and put her bags in her bedroom, close the door, andspend my time in the guest room. She could not have known what a weddinggift she had just given me.I was so overwhelmed with excitement. But I wanted to do it right. Iwanted to be the bride I had dreamed of. So I went to her bathroom.
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I always get jealous, dammit.I sighed and started tapping my foot again. "You know he could make trouble for me, Bradley. You know that, and you still go on, carrying on like this."John Correlli was a deacon at my church and president of both the Neighborhood Watch group, and the homeowners association. He was a boor at the best of times, and spiteful and vindictive at the worst. A few deftly placed words and he'd have little trouble turning the congregation against us, and make living in this development a nightmare. He had done it before. And with his ties to the University of Maryland alumni association, he could possibly even cause problems with Brad's athletic scholarship. I didn't need that headache."Stay away from Mrs. Correlli," I told him.His head remained tilted. "What about her grass?" Fuck her grass. Let her cut her own grass. Or let that wimp of a husband cut it for her," I replied, angrily. "If he knows how."Brad's grin spread to full intensity again. No doubt he.

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