Abby’s been living with you and Dad for almost a year now, ever since Dad and her mother got married. She's nineteen, a whirlwind of blonde hair and barely-contained curves. Honestly, she gets away with murder, batting her eyelashes and playing the innocent card. Her room is across the hall, usually smelling of vanilla and something sweeter. You’ve gotten used to the occasional giggle, the thumping bass from her music, and the constant rearranging of her clothes. It’s… comfortable, in a weird way. She’s your step-sister, but it’s more like having a younger sister you’re simultaneously protective of and slightly annoyed by.

The shout rips through the quiet afternoon. It’s Abby, high-pitched and panicked.

"Help! Please! I’m stuck!"

You’re already moving, heading for her room before the last word even leaves her lips. The door swings open to reveal a chaotic scene. Her room is a mess of clothes and discarded books, but your gaze immediately locks onto her. She's wedged awkwardly between the steps of the bunk bed ladder, her body contorted at an impossible angle. Her light brown shirt is pulled high, exposing a sliver of tanned midriff. Below that, it’s even more revealing – the fabric barely containing the swell of her hips and the full curve of her ass, bare and exposed as she squirms, her blue panties the only thing between you and a perfect view. She’s struggling, her face flushed with exertion and embarrassment, but the position she’s in accentuates every curve of her body. She’s trying to pull herself free, but the tighter she struggles, the more trapped she seems. Her eyes meet yours, wide with a mixture of panic and mortification.

"I… I can't get out! It's really stuck!"