Will the cycle never end? I swear the devil has chosen my family as his house of incest. It all started with my sister, mother and me.
My parents were divorced when I was a young child and I lived with my paternal grandparents and father on a farm. I was my motherâs favorite child. Iâd cry at night and beg my father to allow me to be with her. Later, when my mother refused to reconcile with my father, he committed suicide. I was 18 years old.
Since I was such a delinquent child, my grandparents asked my mother if sheâd be willing to take me. Being her favorite child, she readily agreed.
I didnât get to see a lot of my mother because she was busy managing the restaurants she owned. This left me alone with my two sisters most of the day. The closest to me in age, April, was 19 and the younger sister, Summer, was 13. Both sisters had matured early and had acquired my motherâs physique: large breasts, narrow waist and gorgeous, round, asses; black hair, blue eyes, perfect lips and aquiline noses completed their stunning looks. They so closely resembled one another, they could be twins.
My 18-year-old hormones were percolating from the constant feminine stimuli. I wasnât used to being around women. My sisters thought nothing of walking around in panties and bra; and my mother wore a revealing nightgown after her evening shower. Iâd never seen a totally naked woman, however. For some reason, I had a strong desire to see a womanâs pubic hair more than any other feature.
My mother sought ways to dispel what she believed was my grief over my fatherâs death. The truth was, I was thrilled to be living with her and my sisters, but my shyness conveyed a different message, I suppose. A customer of hers thought that itâd be a good idea for me to attend summer camp and he helped her make arrangements for me to go to a church camp. She thought this would take my mind off of my fatherâs suicide.
About three days after arriving at the camp, outside the girlâs shower, I saw an opportunity to see my first naked woman. I climbed on top of a 55-gallon drum and peeked through the window. The showers were without stalls. There was an 18-year-old camp counselor Iâd fantasized about, and several teenage girls of varying ages, standing naked under the cascading water. I goggled bug-eyed at them for at least 10 minutes. It was fantastic.
Imagine my surprise that evening when my mother and sisters arrived at the camp to take me home. A minister had seen me peeking through the window and had called my mother. He thought a church camp was no place for a boy like me, he had told her. I was so ashamed and embarrassed I couldnât speak all the way home. My sisters sat in the backseat giggling. Fortunately, nothing was said to cause me further anguish.
The next morning I got up to pee and closed the door. Afterwards, as I began to brush my teeth my sister opened the door and asked if I minded if she showered.
âNo, Iâll be through in just a minute,â I said.
âThatâs ok, I donât mind if you watch.â
With that, she slipped out of her negligee and stood naked before me.
âHand me the soap,â she said.
My face turned beet red and my pecker sprang out the hole of my pajama bottoms.
âMmmm. I see you have a nice cock,â she said. âHave you ever made love to a girl before?â
âErr, no.â
âWould you like to touch my breasts? I donât mind.â
I gulped and said, âIâd like that very much.â I cupped both breasts with my hands and manipulated them.
âTheyâre really nice. Can I suck them?â
âOh, yes,â she said as I lowered my mouth to her nipples.
âIs this what you wanted to see when you looked through the shower windows at camp?â
âYes, but I really wanted to see pubic hair. I love your thick patch, by the way. May I touch it?â
âIf I can touch your penis,â she replied.
I was so ecstatic. I massaged her pussy, feeling her wetness, and ran my fingers through her thick bush. Precum was flowing out of my rock hard penis.
âHas anyone ever put his penis in there?â
âJust once. When I dated Freddie he wanted to do it. He stopped seeing me afterwards so I havenât let anyone else touch it since. But I love the way you touch me.â
âDid you like it when Freddie fucked you?â
âAll I can remember is that it hurt right at first and it didnât last long. His goo made such a mess, but I kinda liked the feeling. Would you like to put your penis in there?â
âDefinitely. Is mother gone?â
âYes, and Summer is sleeping. She wonât be up until noon, you know her. Why donât we go to your room?â
We slipped under my covers and began exploring each otherâs bodies and fucked like monkeys all morning. Afterwards, my sheets were so wet with our mixed juices that she washed them and helped me make the bed. We made love at least once every day and often several times a day. She obtained my motherâs permission to get a birth control prescription so I wouldnât have to use a condom.
âI like to ride bareback,â she said.
âYouâve been reading too many sexual novels,â I responded, but I loved her mature expertise.
Our apartment was above a store that sold leather goods to horsemen. At night, the street lights softly lit the rooms. I loved the leather smell from the shop below and the sounds of the street outside; the nightly hoot of a train passing through town called me to imagined destinations.
The layout of the apartment was such that my sisterâs and my bedrooms were at one end of the apartment; my motherâs was at the other end. A kitchen, a dining room, and a living room extended between the bedrooms. This allowed my mother to have privacy which she took advantage of. She was a promiscuous woman who entertained several gentlemen, most of whom were married.
I remember one gentleman, in particular. He was a used car salesman with a wife and two teen-aged children. He wasnât particularly attractive and I didnât understand what a beautiful woman like my mother saw in him. Although she had married young and had three children early in the marriage, she had retained her youthful good looks.
I remember the first time I saw her naked. There were two entryways to our apartment, one from the street and one from the alley, which allowed easy access. One evening I entered through the alley doorway. Evidently, they thought I wouldnât be home for quite awhile because they had left her bedroom door open. Although the lights were off, I could see them silhouetted against the streetlights through the windows. The springs squeaked and the headboard was pounding against the wall.