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When I was six my parents split and quickly married new spouses. I found myself as part of a new blended family when I shared time at my father's new house. We weren't the Brady Bunch by any stretch, but we all got along well. My new step brother and sister were somewhere between my siblings and close acquaintances. In many ways we grew up together and over the years we came to think of each other like brothers and sisters do. We sometimes played. We sometimes argued. But mostly were just each doing our thing.

The Marsha in this family was my slightly older stepsister Carrie. As a younger brother, imagine my confused interest at watching my new sister grow up before my eyes. There was an extra level of intrigue to all things involving privacy. While seeing my real sister undressed seemed perfectly boring, getting peeks at Carrie in various stages of undress was an ongoing pursuit. Apparently Carrie felt the same confusion. I had the pleasure of experiencing it on a family trip we made one summer to my grandparents house. I was 16. Carrie was just a few months older.

With such a large group, there weren't bedrooms for everybody at the house during our visit. Sleeping accommodations for the kids was a series of cots set up in the living room and den, side by side by side, bunkhouse style. Girls in the living room. Boys in the den. After the usual day of family activity... sightseeing, shopping, visiting local relatives, etc., we all returned to the house and prepared for an early bedtime. Grandma and Grandpa were early to bed, early to rise kind of people. So.... when in Rome... off to bed we went. Cots were set up and everyone retired to their quarters for the rest of the night. After a long period of unwinding and fooling around, pushing my father's patience to the brink, my brothers and I finally settled down and drifted off to sleep.

A short time later I was awakened by someone standing over my cot. After the fog of my sleep cleared I could see it was Carrie. She was standing there in her large t-shirt quietly nudging me awake. I started to speak, to ask her why she was bothering me, but before I could get the words out she crawled onto my cot with me with a quiet "shhhhhh..." She climbed above me,straddling my torso with her legs while facing me. Her long hair dangled down into my face. She slowly moved her head down near mine and asked in a whisper, "Do you want to kiss me?"

In my stunned amazement I managed to quietly blurt out "yes." I didn't know what to do so I simply followed her lead and kissed back. She was older and a girl, so I was somewhat terrified. After a few minutes of kissing we got more into it and she asked me if we could french kiss. Again I followed her lead and we began to slip our tongues into each others' mouths. At that point I went from being terrified to being incredibly aroused. My cock immediately got hard inside the skimpy underwear that was all I was wearing.

We kissed for a long while, stopping periodically when we would get momentarily freaked out by a noise in the house. The thought that someone was up in the house and on the verge of finding her in my cot was paralyzing. We would stop, stay quiet and listen to make sure nobody was coming and that my bothers in the nearby cots were still asleep. Then we would start kissing again.

After a long period of kissing she asked me if I wanted to touch her breasts. Of course, my answer was "yes". I moved my hands up and felt them through her t-shirt. I had spent my early teen years trying to get peeks at her tits, with only occasional brief payoff. This was a fantasy come true. I was amazed at the size of them outside of her bra. As I touched them her nipples stiffed in my fingers. We kissed some more while I rubbed my hands over her tits and all over her body. With my new found permission to touch her body, I also explored her legs and ass. Her pussy was still forbidden territory. I didn't want to push my newly found good fortune.

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A few of the references in this sequel will make more sense if you have read “A Visit From Saint Michael,” but it does stand totally on its own and can be enjoyed even if you have never read the first story. This story centers around non-consensual pain, humiliation and slavery. If such a premise disturbs you, then I would advise you to skip this story. Or you can skim past those sections and read a very interesting tale involving one of the “old gods” of Mexico and much of South...

2 years ago
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The Garden Bench Backstory

I have seen this lady a couple of times now, as it turned out, always on the 16th of the month, always at 2:30 in the afternoon. There always seemed to be purpose in her visit. Her visage purposeful.On this summers day, she looked so beautiful in her pink summer calf length frock. I looked at my watch and decided to take my break. Life in the gardens for staff could be hard physical work and for me, a young guy on placement from horticultural college, this was my life. It was all I ever wanted...

Masturbation
2 years ago
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Strangers on a Train part 3 Restaurant Shennanigans and a Bit of Backstory

I woke up to the warm pressure of Sofia’s supple skin pressed against my naked body. Did last night really happen? How could this woman be real? It seemed to good to be true. But, it was true, every glorious moment of it. I lay in bed lingering for a moment, taking in Sofia’s scent, nose nuzzled against her graceful neck. The improbable geometry of her body, the physical manifestation of quadratic functions, created a topographic map comprised of rolling hills and valleys beneath the...

4 years ago
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Backstory

Note: I mentioned in ‘The Next Morning’ that it was part of a longer story. Well, here’s the beginning of that story, drenched in the grief of a man who has lost his wife, who wakes up every morning wondering how to go on and then, one day, wakes up on a private island in the South Pacific. He’s comfortable enough. There is a beautiful beach house fitted out with every known amenity (and some that are still unknown). But the grief stays with him. And then, on the first anniversary of her death,...

3 years ago
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I Wish I Had Gone FishingChapter 5 The Backstory

When I crawled to Sally, too weak and sick to walk, I suspected my end was near. It felt like life and energy was ebbing out of me. I thought I was dying, so I panicked! Throwing caution to the wind, the hell with the consequences, like someone parched, I sucked life giving fluids from Sally’s pussy, my fountain of life. Immediately, I began to feel better, stronger. My mind cleared. Sally had been gang raped! What was I swallowing? I remember the damp towel now. Sally must have used the...

4 years ago
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Truck Guy Beach ShowerChapter 3 Backstory

I need some critical history about Erin before I go on. In high school (two classes), nursing school (three classes), and at her first job (at the lunch table) my wife was exposed to some feminist views that were stronger than the mainstream. All preached the same militant tune: “my body, my choice!” Each of the classes spent at least a month looking at fairy tales, traditional stories, literature and popular current authors to find the “subtle chauvinist themes.” The first example they all...

2 years ago
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Baseball Player to Baseball Wife Complete Story

Hazing To the real Gina-I wish there was a Thomas to make your dreams come true. On behalf of your sisters, we always knew that you were wearing our clothes! Lol In 2016 Major League Baseball banned the hazing practice of having new players wear dresses. This story is about a MLB player and his experience with the hazing ritual. Mike Young was living what many American men would consider the ultimate American dream. He was a starting pitcher for the California Seals, MLB newest...

3 years ago
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Wendy8217s erotic story

Ben is a very good friend of mine. We met in scouts when we were younger and became fast friends. As well as all the normal scouting trips, we also would get together during the summers whenever one of our moms was willing to give us a ride across town. Ben went to a private school so weekends and summers were the only times we really had to hang out. Wendy is Ben’s little sister. Wendy was always the cutest little kid. When I first met her she was maybe six years old, and she was always bubbly...

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