Semua Bab The Wet Diãry : Bab 31 - Bab 40

"I'm going to regret this someday, but why don't we make a deal?"I looked at her curiously. "What kind of deal?""We could help each other," she said bluntly. "I know it sounds absolutely horrible, but I think if we helped each other, then this situation would be a lot easier for us to deal with. What do you think?"I couldn't believe what my mother had just said. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought that she offered me a chance to sexually relieve her, and vice versa. It was the last thing I would have ever expected her to say."What do you mean?" I asked to clarify things."Well, I'm not exactly sure yet. But I'm tired of running back and forth to the bathroom. I'm sure you must feel the same way. I heard the sounds of you masturbating loudly in the bathroom earlier.""Oh," I replied with embarrassment. "The bathroom door is thin. I heard you masturbating also."Her eyes widened. "You were listening to me?"I nodded. "Every moan.""Gosh, why didn't you knock on the doo

29/5/2011I should tell you that as I turned 17 that year my body did a whole lot of growing. I was now 5’10”, my body was no longer skinny; my shape was filling out nicely and my blonde hair only got longer. My boobs even started to fill out. Being tall I had the perfect view of them in the rear view mirror of the car to see what Kim and Harper were doing.I leaned back into the front seat as I heard them kissing up a storm. I could also see that Harper had already fished those big tits of Kim’s out from under her shirt. Harper’s big hands looked small on those big fucking tits as I watched him play with them. My hand slipped down to my own pants as I watched him start to suck and lick at Kim’s tits.I saw Kim give me a smile in the rear view mirror. I seen her having Harper raise up a bit and I heard clothes sliding down. I was rubbing my pussy hard through my pants while this was going on. I soon seen Kim’s head go down in the rear view mirror followed by sucking and slurping sound

It can be tough having an older sister. They feel like they rule the house just because they were born first, and you're the one always in their way, and so they take it out on you, or me in this case. I had this growing up two-fold, they were twins, so it felt like they were synchronising their aggression towards me, all the time, I was their scapegoat.If they were ever bored, or frustrated, I was the one they took it out on. They would do things like have one of them hold me down while the other put makeup on my face against my will, while my parents barely cared at all having dealt with it for so long. I thought it was all over when they came of age to leave the house, but they stayed on living here, and the torment got worse as they reached maturity. Yeah, maturity, that's a bit of a stretch.None more so did the torture become greater than it did on this weekend. The last weekend in August, a time which had become familiar to us as the weekend which our parents went aw

We stood on the sidewalk and I stared up at the gold gilded sign of the Waldorf Astoria. She took my hand, and I stumbled behind her still staring up at the massive luxury hotel."Mo-" I was cut off before I could finish."This way Dante, come on…" she picked up the hem of her dress a little as she climbed the two steps and pulled me in next to her in the revolving doorway."What are we doing here?" I practically hissed, "I don't think we can just wander in here!"My protests fell on deaf ears as she pulled me through the lobby. Everything was white and gold, an absolute sensory overload. I stared at the intricate tile floor as we swept across it. Realizing only after we crossed, that the tiles were laid in such a manner that they recreated some famous painters mural. Cherubs and angels adorned the art piece. Dumbly, I stared behind me at the floor as we waited for the elevator.Inside the elevator, by ourselves I took the opportunity to get my head straight. "Mo

“Bottoms up honey, you only live once!” Her eyes sparkled, and she grinned wolfishly. I rolled my eyes at her but joined her in downing the shot. I choked it down, even as my eyes burned and watered. Managing a weak smile, I looked at her through blurry eyes. She was bright red herself and trying not to cough. “Whoa… that’ll put hair on your chest!” She wheezed. That was one thing about having a parent who was pretty much an athlete. She treated her body like a temple and rarely drank anything. There was never any alcohol in the house. My ears were warm, and the chilly March air that drifted in through the sunroof felt good. My mother sat up against me and laid her head on my shoulder. “Thank you for taking me, I promise to not give myself away…” she nuzzled in hugging me, and the familiar smell of her hair was comforting. The words were reassuring, or the alcohol took the edge off my anxiety, I wasn’t sure which.