I do not give permission to re-post, sell, or archive my stories on any public websites. If you want to download my story for personal use, be my guest, but that's as far as my permissions go.
I wrote this journal-style story when I had a subscription page. It's twenty-six chapters long, around 86,000 words, and it's the kind of story that can go on forever. I've had to rewrite portions of each chapter in order to post the story to Lit. For those who were a part of my subscription page, you'll notice the changes.
The nice thing about a journal-style story is that I can rewrite the chapters at my leisure. So, I hope I can make this rewrite work. I have no planned upload schedule. They'll come as they come.
This story is about a high school wrestler, his dominating older sister, his innocent, little tomboy sister—triplets in this version of the story—and his MILF of a Mom. For fun, you'll see that the biggest cheerleaders at his wrestling meets are the Team Moms, and every MILF who cheers on her son would love to have her boy's cock— or any wrestler's cock—balls deep within her muff. And, if I'm up for continuing this journal once I've uploaded the entire thing, we'll throw some horny volleyball players into mix for fun.
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#01 Timmy
Teased by My Older Sister
Saturday
The nights are killing me. It's hot. So fucking hot. I use my fan, but that's not enough. Our central air conditioning doesn't work at the moment, and instead of fixing it, Mom told us to suffer in silence after my older sister called her cheap for not getting on the phone with a repairman right away. I think my sister meant it as a joke, but she's a bitch; what can I say. Mom didn't come from money—she's earns hers—and she said, "If I could take it when I was a kid, then so can you guys." I don't know why that has to apply to me. I wasn't the one who made the joke.
Fuck my life.
Monday
Why am I revisiting my old journal? I don't know. Maybe I need something to do other than thinking about all the sex I'm not getting in my life.
Who am I as of this writing? It's been two years since I wrote anything in my journal. I've changed.
I'm eighteen years old, and I'm the meat of a girl-boy-girl triplet sandwich. I've gone over my past entries, and it's nothing but "What do I want to be when I grow up" and "I think that the so and so likes me" and "My older sister is a bitch" and "Why couldn't my younger sister have been a younger brother?"
I think I should update my family status since it's been a while since I wrote anything down.
Diana is the oldest triplet; she looks older as well. She's looked like a woman since forever. My friends say that she's all woman: tits and ass and legs and abs and a volleyball player's body that belongs on a bikini calendar—and I tell them to shut the fuck up. They'll talk about every part of my sister's body until every single one of us has to nut.
Abbey is the youngest triplet. She's a cutie, I guess, who likes to follow me around when she's not skating with every tomboy in our high school. Oh, yeah, she's a skater with no tits—I'm not looking—but I told her that one day for some reason, and I still tell her she has no tits because it makes us laugh. With her short blonde hair and light freckles, she could pass for a boy underneath her baseball cap, and it's too bad she's not a boy because I don't think a tomboy sister can replace a younger brother.
The funny thing—it wasn't funny at the time—is that Abbey is a year behind Diana and me in school, despite being a fucking genius. Our Dad, wherever he may be, had custody of her when we were younger. I don't know what kind of dumb fuck judge splits up triplets, but this one did. Dad enrolled Abbey in school a year after Mom enrolled Diana and me—I think he did it to piss Mom off—then, he just gave up custody of Abbey and disappeared. Abbey has been following us around ever since.
Mom is thirty-eight or thirty-nine, I don't know. I won't remember until her next birthday. I don't know why I keep forgetting her age. She look, I don't know, thirty-ish. She's divorced, and she likes to dress up and workout because she saw an infomercial about toned-up MILFs, or maybe she was watching porn. She does that and sometimes I can hear it through our shared wall. Anyway, Mom decided that she wanted a fit, mature, cougar body capable of hunting down a young cub. When it comes to the girls, Diana takes after Mom, while Abbey takes after our Dad's leanish, boyish, mother and sisters.
This is strange to write, but there's a difference between a fit, almost forty-year-old woman and an eighteen-year-old girl. No, I don't compare Mom's and Diana's bodies, not really, but that doesn't mean I don't notice them. Both are in great shape, but the body of an older woman is different. An older body is more weathered, the flesh slightly looser, clinging to the muscles underneath so that there's more of a ripple when they move, and their skin doesn't hold the glow of youth the way it once did. The contrast between my sister's and my mother's bodies is incomparable: I couldn't tell you which one is hotter, not that I ever think about it. But if I had to choose. . . . Why am I writing this down? (I was watching porn earlier, that's why, and this step-incest is the flavor of today.)
Fuck it. If I had to choose. . . .
My older sister is a bitch.
My mother is not a bitch.
My mom wins—end of story.
Why the fuck am I writing about my family like this? I've been watching too much of that show