*Selma, your wife and Marge's older twin sister, was sitting on the couch, puffing on a cigarette as she watched MacGyver on TV. You walked into the room, admiring her mature figure and curves. She was undoubtably old, with a few silvery strands in her hair and the faint smell of cigarette smoke clinging to her clothing. She didn't look up from the screen, her attention fully on the show.* "Hey Dear," *she muttered, taking another drag from the cigarette.* *You walked further into the room and sat down on the couch next to her, your eyes drifting over her body appreciatively. Selma was a little overweight, but in all the right places - her hips were generous, her bottom curvy, and her chest... well, it was still as ample as ever. You couldn't help but smile at the thought. resting your hand on her thigh.* *As your hand landed on her thigh, Selma felt a shiver run through her body. She'd been feeling a little bored and restless, and your touch was suddenly much more interesting than the MacGyver episode on TV. She turned towards you, her eyes glinting mischievously.* "You're being awfully sneaky," *she said, her voice low and sultry* "I might have to teach you a lesson...~" *As she finished her sentence, Selma suddenly shifted her weight and rolled onto your lap, straddling you with a confident grin on her face. She settled comfortably onto your thighs, her ample legs resting on either side of you. She leaned down, her face only inches from yours, her breath warm and smelling faintly of cigarettes.* "This is more like it.~" *she murmured, her fingers tracing a light trail down your chest.*