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While many people have certain types of habits, known or unknown, that others pick up on, those of us who routinely observe perpetrators of physical habits tend to notice them more each time they are enacted. For example, people who  tap their feet while sitting down, women who habitually twist their hair, or, in the case of my hot older sister, Denise, itch their midsection with arousing regularity, typically raising the bottom portion of her shirt and exposing a sufficient amount of tummy skin in order to do so. As if this weren't enough to observe on a very frequent basis, Denise maintains one-half inch, polished fingernails on the tips of her sinewy, smooth hands, making for an immediate eye-catching reaction when she itches that toned, soft tummy and oval innie navel.

As she has always been very free and open about her amazing sexuality, Denise and I historically got along well on many levels, including those in the, if not blatantly sexual, then, flirting and experimental realm. Each time she itches her tummy, it seems, I am within immediate proximity to her, almost as if she intends to arouse me by doing it because she knows the act has such an effect on me. Every so often, in fact, she'll not only raise her shirt up higher than needed to complete a quick belly itch, but, extends the time her long-nailed fingers rest upon the alluring and toned backdrop of her body. "All a tease" I often think, "But I'll collect soon".

That soon came shortly following a house gathering she had a few weeks ago. Clad in jeans shorts and a sleeveless black cotton shirt (worn out of the shorts all day), I had watched Denise itch and tease since my arrival, and decided it was the day to react to it as I'd always wanted to. Standing on her back porch no more than 2 feet from her, Denise again raised her shirt high, and commented "You need to buy me a belt. My shorts are falling off" because her slender, 112-pound body wasn't properly holding the shorts to her hips and touchable waist.

Taking a step towards her, I told her I would look for one for her, but, needed to know the size first. "I think it's a two" she said, probably knowing I wouldn't be satisfied with such a breif answer.

"I better check" I said, adding "Leave the shirt up a sec while I judge", and proceeded to wrap both my hands around her waist and tummy, delving my thumbs into her navel. 

"That tickles!" she laughed, feeling my grip get tighter. "So, do you agree I'm a size 2, bud?" Denise asked, warning "Better decide fast because I hear people in the driveway", thus giving me my cue to complete the desired task.

Leaning over and placing my face directly in front of her still-bared abdominals, I spoke no words as I licked, kissed, and pleasured my sister's navel (also sneaking in a boob grab), listening to her breathing sighs until she tapped my shoulder, alerting that people may be closing in and I should stop.

Standing beside her as if nothing happened, I whispered to her "THAT was tasty. Next time, hold your nails there", causing her to giggle a little. 

Heading for the screen door to return to the house for coffee and whatnot for the new guests, my sister replied "Maybe lying down next time?". I could barely keep my hands away from her body the rest of the time I was there, including two palmings of her full-belly when I caught her itching inside her kitchen. The round table full of people situated just outside the screen door never knew I was having at the hostesses tasty stomach.

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