Tiny Little Bumps...

October 16, 2011

The last night with my nephew in the same room…

His stepfather seeing us in a hot embrace, kissing wildly with our hands all over each other, on a family party shortly after this night, was probably the main reason that it became the last one. 

His family stayed with us for the day and the night, it was the first day of the year, we celebrated.

Tension building up the whole day long. He always gave me this ‘wrestling lessons’. One of my favourite games, a nice way to make body contact. He used to show me ‘tricks’ to use in a fight. I always was more of a boy in my playing. Never dolls, always climbing trees and playing rough games with the boys. Hanging around on building sites, fighting with sticks, throwing stones, things like that. Like, when I overpowered my enemy and he was on his back, I had to sit on his chest and place my knees on his upper arms to hold him down. He would then ‘try to free himself’ to train me, this way causing me to fall in such way that I fell forwards and landed with my pussy next to his face. I became so hot of that, but the ‘coincidental’ touches were always short.

When the night finally came and they let us sleep in the same room, (we couldn’t believe it by the way, they never suspected anything?) there was a little bed where he had to sleep in and so we stayed in our own beds a while... We always knew ‘it’ was ‘wrong’, of course, and I was already 13 now, and he must have been 15 or 16. 

It was very silent. I’m sure he heard my suppressed heavy breathing, and I even thought he would hear my heartbeat, longing for him to come in my bed so much. And I knew he was thinking of the same thing, I just felt it in my core. After a while, still no word spoken in the darkness, he finally did slip in my bed. We lay against each other, chest to chest, just breathing and longing. And I started pushing my pussy against his body less and less subtle, making sure he knew that I wanted more. Then even pushing his arm a little so that he would start using it. First he started touching me more like our old child's games, over the fabric of my knickers, my only nightclothes. I always pulled out my nightgown immediately when I got in bed, if I had to wear any, like with cold weather or visitors. 
I never could stand it because I would wake up in the middle of the night, almost strangled by it from turning around in my sleep. And he also touched what would soon become my little breasts, not too soon, I still even had no shame for the tiny little bumps… but I always loved the feeling of his ‘big’ hands on me, anywhere on me, a lot.  He started really caressing me when I reacted to the touches by turning with my hips more, carefully following the contours of my pussy with his fingers and softly rubbing me with his full flat hand in between. Slowly, to not lose his touches in the dark, I turned completely on my back and opened my legs more and more. Desperately pushing my pussy up to follow his fingers whenever he lifted them a bit, or when he went too far down my thighs. 

I can still remember the tension very well, every fingertip touch and each time him holding my whole pussy in his hand brought me closer to exploding, not coming, just from the excitement. Soon I got more horny than shy and I guided his hand under the knickers and he pulled them out. Now his fingertip gently started to follow the folds of my labia. Such young pussy, the labia seem to stick together  as if the folds still have to detach themselves fully, like thin slices of veal, you know how they seem to want to stay together when you try to take one of the other? Otherwise I really can’t describe the feeling when he went between them, exploring  them from one side completely to the other. And the other side, and then finally the middle... He had some experience with girls of his own age, I knew that, too, and I was proud that he was doing it to me now. And I got so wet that I could feel it on the outside for the first time. Following the curves, his finger got in a bit, hardly any resistance, I was so ready. He pulled back, but I urged him to go on with it with my movements, he did, moving up and down inside me with one finger. I went wilder shaking my hips to urge him to do more.  He went slowly deeper and deeper with his finger every time and kept going a while and I started touching his penis a bit, not really sure what to do with it, and he was breathing heavily. Suddenly he stopped it and went to his bed. No word spoken, I still don’t know what happened. Maybe he had an orgasm or maybe he realised he had to stop it before it went too far. 
The last, I think, he was always this really ‘good boy’, really, and he stayed that way, horny guy, but a good one. Always listening to his bully of a stepfather, I was always angry at the old bastard, he wasn’t fair to his stepson, but he never was.  

It took me a very, very long time to fall asleep that night, alone in the bed again... 
Touching myself more, secretly in the dark, but … 

I knew now that being touched inside by someone else was nothing like touching yourself, at all.

The thing at the party was our last sin.

I had to do with my fingers and couches and, oh… trees, for a little while longer…

Reading books can have real bad side effects!

Boring story again, but it was more excitement than my deflowering, actually. That was… just something that had to be done.

XXX