Author's preamble.
This series of stories was inspired by a tale from the Literotica author, Qdata, called 'DoubleDee42 Revealed' in which the main character was fictitiously portrayed as a Literotica author called DoubleDee42. One of the stories DoubleDee42 allegedly wrote was called 'Betty's bOObs'. As an aside, one line from Qdata's story, voiced by the main actor referring to Betty of Betty's bOObs, intrigued me: "She is going to be kinky, that character."
I waited for several years to see if that story (or, indeed, that author) appeared in Literotica's lists but to no avail so I took the bull by the horns, as it were, and decided to write what I hope will be a long series of stories based on Qdata's fictional character and sent him a copy for his approval.
Qdata has very generously allowed me to take over both the name and the story. After studying Qdata's works on this site, I have tried to emulate his style of writing but any diversion is purely my own.
This story is a work of fiction, all sex is mutually consensual and all sexually characters are at least 18 years old.
I am happy to receive comments on this and subsequent stories in the series so I invite you to read and enjoy my story and don't forget to vote.
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I inherited many of my mother's qualities, particularly her body, her looks and certainly her love of life. And sexuality. She was always open about how her and Daddy enjoyed a full and varied sex life and their love for each other was apparent in the way they would touch and embrace frequently about the house so I and my siblings grew up in a loving, happy home.
I was the middle child of Mum's three. My brothers and I were good friends all through my childhood. Oh we had the usual childish fights but never anything serious or long-lasting: we soon made up and played happily together as if nothing had happened.
Mummy and I were particularly close and she would share 'secrets' with me so, even from a young age, I knew what happened in her bedroom when we kids had gone to bed. Sex was never a taboo subject at home and our parents would answer our childish questions without embarrassment on either side. Even so, I was still a virgin coming up to my 18th birthday because Mummy and Daddy both told me they would prefer that I wait until that age when my body had fully matured and I was able to make rational decisions about such things.
About a week before my birthday, Mummy and Daddy took the occasion to talk to me when Peter and Tony (elder and younger brother) were away at a weekend scouts' camp.
"On Friday you will turn 18," Daddy told me, "and we're all going to have a party here to celebrate your becoming an adult. Aunt Mary and Uncle John would like to come and, if you would like, you can go back and spend the weekend with them."
Let me tell you about Aunt Mary and Uncle John. First, they were Aunt and Uncle purely as a childhood convention. Mary and Mummy had been best friends all the way through school and were still best friends, but, even to this day, they were still Aunt Mary and Uncle John to me. They were both fun people to be with: they would babysit us when we were younger and Mummy and Daddy would babysit their Steve who was a few months older than me.
As I grew up they would sometimes spend the weekend at our house but only later did I learn that they and my parents shared the master bedroom, with all that implied. Lately I had noticed Uncle John checking me out. Well, with my figure and particularly my boobs, lots of boys would do the same so I knew the signs. Uncle John was a handsome specimen: he and Aunt Mary kept themselves fit by going for a long jog at least twice a week so Uncle John had a healthy leanness about him. He was not too tall, standing at about 5'9" with dark, wavy hair and piercingly blue eyes set in an angular face. I had also checked him out from his firmly sculpted biceps to his trim bum. He was sexy.
"Are you trying to tell me something?" I asked, curious as to why Mummy and Daddy had sat me down for a serious talk.
It was Mummy who replied, "Well, we know you have not slept with a man before. Uncle John is somebody whom we trust implicitly and, if you would like it, he would love to sleep with you. But only if you want, we're not trying to push you onto him." Here my mother took hold of my hand,. "Betty, we are so proud that you have kept yourself pure and we want your first time to be a happy, loving thing. John is an experienced and considerate lover. We both think it would be a good start for you."
"You have all week to think about it," continued Daddy, "and it will only happen if you want it to happen. Don't worry about Mary, either. She is happy about the situation and will be nearby if you need her. We just want the very best for you."
Both my parents smiled at me then Mummy said, "Whatever you want, you have our blessing. You're an adult, you make your own mind up. If you would rather have somebody nearer your age, we would fully understand and you would still have our blessing."
I stood up and walked towards the patio door then looked back at them, "Let me think this through." I opened the door and walked through to the back garden. It was warm, maybe too hot, in the sun so I sought the shade of the big old apple tree down near the bottom fence and stretched myself out on the lounger, deep in thought.
There were several boys my age who would be only too glad to deflower me. One or two were serious possibilities who looked past my DD42 boobs and the generous curves of my old fashioned hour-glass figure to the shy and sensitive me that was underneath my physical outer shell. Billy Atherton, now he was interested in the real me and he had taken me out on a date several times but respected my decision not go beyond passionate kissing. If it were to be any of my would-be suitors, it would probably be Billy.
But other girls in my class had told me that their first time was not too good: fumbled clutching in the back seat of a car or behind the old headstones in the churchyard, with the boy too eager and shooting off as soon as he was inside, leaving his partner high and dry. Did I want that to be a first experience for me? No way. Like a true romantic, I wanted my first time to be beautiful. Maybe I should think about Uncle John. Physically I was not repulsed by the idea. He was a lovely man with a lovely personality but how would I feel when Uncle John became John the lover? My lover?
As I lay there in the shade of the tree, I was tossing the two about in my mind, Billy or John, Billy or John and fell into a doze, half dreaming of giving up my virginity but my visions were more of John.
"Tea's ready, Betty." I sat up with a start as I heard my mother call again, "Come and get it." I felt frustrated that Mummy had called me out of a very erotic dream in which Uncle John was about to take my cherry after an age of tender caresses. I looked down at my chest and noticed my nipples engorged and pushing the front of my dress out in bumps. I felt a curious dampness around my private parts as I rose from the lounger and made my way back inside. Suddenly I stopped in mid stride. It was Uncle John, the lover in my dream. Maybe my body was trying to tell me something.
Nothing more was said about my coming weekend but I did give the matter some thought and had decided that Uncle John would be the one. There would always be time for Billy later. On Thursday Mummy and I were washing the pots after our evening meal. "I think I'll go back with Aunt Mary and Uncle John tomorrow." I half whispered. "But Mummy, I'm so nervous."
She turned, flung the tea towel aside and pulled me to her in a tender hug. "Of course you're nervous, my Baby. Every girl is at this time. But I'm sure John will look after you and make it wonderful for you. Try to relax and when you come back to us on Sunday evening, you'll be different, you'll be a fulfilled woman, not my little Baby any more." Mummy held my face in my arms and kissed me. "Just enjoy yourself. You've been taking your pill every day?"
Mummy had got the doctor to put me on contraception two months ago in anticipation of my 18th birthday. "Yes, Mummy, every morning when I brush my teeth."
"Good girl. We wouldn't want anything to happen, so just relax. I'll phone Mary later."
Friday morning dawned, bright and sunny. I woke to the sound of birds chirping and quarrelling around the seed table. I yawned loudly and stretched exquisitely before throwing off the loose cover and wandered to the bathroom in my 'jamas.
"Happy birthday," my siblings chorused as I passed their open bedroom door. I looked in and smiled my thanks to them then continued to the bathroom where I luxuriated under the shower. Returning to my room, I dressed in plain cotton panties and bra, a pair of tight short shorts which, I knew, showed my bum in all its glory and a tight-fitting tee shirt which stopped at my navel. I felt good, knowing I looked good. I brushed my blonde locks into a pony tail and went downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. Both boys whistled and clapped at my appearance. They often fooled around like that so I posed in the doorway and preened myself, laughing as I made my way to the table. Even Daddy gave me appreciating glances as he wished me Happy Birthday. Mummy hugged me from behind my chair as she placed a cereal bowl in front of me.