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Go Pats!

“Tom, where are you going? Come back to bed and fuck me some more…”

“C’mon, Gisele, you know I have a big game to play.”

“At least cum in my mouth before you go.”

“Babe, I’d love to, but I can’t be late.”

“Fine, then I’ll just have to eat the cum you left in my pussy.”

“Aw, don’t pout. Look, after we win the game I promise to bring the guys over.”

“And I can have a gang-bang like we did in 2015?”

“I told the whole team they could do you in any hole if they got me another ring.”

“I want Edelman in my asshole this time. Mmm, and Dont’a in my cunt.”

“I promise you can have all of them anywhere you want, babe.”

“Will Gronk come, too? I want him to fuck my mouth like he did the last time.”

“You know that boy never misses a party. Now I really gotta go.”

“Tom, wait! One more thing…”

“Yeah, babe?”

“You better fucking win!”

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Hard Lessons

For prpldrgn, winner of the final caption contest.

I made it very clear to my daughter from the time she was a little girl that she wasn’t allowed in that room. I run a very strict household, as her mother will attest, and so when I caught Sophie snooping around in my private room, taking in my collecting of riding crops, inspecting the various sets of manacles I’d collected over the years, and handling a few of the dozens of varied dildos on display I knew I had to teach her a lesson. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but in this case it punished the pussy. Sophie wept when she realized she’d been caught, but I intended to give her good reason to cry. She resisted at first, but soon her pants were down around her ankles and she was across my lap. I let her have the first few spanks with her thin little pink panties on, then I pulled those down, too. I used my hand judiciously to bring her pink bottom to a bright red, delivering a few sharp smacks to her exposed vulva to drive the message home that she was not to be in my special room.

It was only three days later that her mother reported that she’d found our daughter in my room astride my low buck humping herself wantonly against the hard leather surface. Apparently the lesson hadn’t been learned after all. This time I took a different approach. I stripped her mother down to nothing and bound her wrists and ankles to my St. Andrews cross, then called Sophie into the room. She was shocked to see her mom naked and spread-eagle upon my most prized apparatus. I explained that for her self-indulgent transgression that I wasn’t going to take it out on her this time, but that her mother would receive the punishment for her daughter’s disobedience. Sophie watched in anguish as I mercilessly paddled her mother’s bare ass, then cruelly striped her back with a series of different whips. When my daughter tearfully asked me to stop torturing her mother, I instead made the insubordinate child watch while I strangled my wife’s large breasts with tight ropes and dripped hot wax on them. Her mother’s screams brought the poor girl to her knees as she promised through mournful sobs never to violate the sanctity of my private room again.

The message seemed to have gotten through, and Sophie respected my rules for the next couple months. Then, late one evening, I had my wife dangling in the air face down in the sling while I fucked her from behind, and I looked up to see my daughter at the doorway peeking in at us. She quickly took her hand from between her legs when she saw me looking, but I knew what she was up to. I put aside the pinwheel I’d been casually running over my wife’s reddened ass cheeks, pulled my hard cock from her mom’s wet cunt, and signaled for Sophie to come into the room. She was scared, but also eager. It was obvious to me that a simple punishment wasn’t the solution. This problem was going to take a whole new way of thinking to resolve.

I had my daughter strip naked. I inspected her body and liked what I saw. Her eyes couldn’t stay away from my erection whenever it was in view. I was well aware of the proscription against sex with one’s offspring, but she was my daughter, which meant I owned her. She was mine to do with as I pleased. I ordered Sophie to go to her mother’s closet and find the sluttiest pair of shoes she could, put them on, and return to my private chamber. While she was gone I went to where my wife was hanging and slid my cock into her whimpering mouth and told her what I proposed to do. She nodded her assent as I pushed deeper into her throat.

This is how my daughter found us when she returned atop a pair of sleek back heels. She watched with fascination as I gagged her mother with my cock before withdrawing and letting her breathe. I selected a leather collar from a drawer and affixed it around Sophie’s neck. “If you can’t behave like a respectful daughter, then we will have to treat you like a disobedient pet.” I clipped a chain leash to the collar and commanded my girl down onto all fours. Her whole body was shaking – with excitement or fear, I could not tell. I tugged on the leash and walked her around the room. “While in this house,” I explained to her, “you are no longer a girl, you are an animal. When you come home, you will immediately take off all your clothes and put on your collar. Once the collar is on, you are no longer permitted to walk, but instead must move about on all fours like the filthy beast that you are.” I surveyed the rack of equipment and selected a set of cuffs and chains. “You will then find me or your mother so that we may decide what accessories you deserve for the remainder of the day.” I attached the cuffs to ankles and wrists, limiting her movements and paraded her around in front of her mother for her opinion. My wife’s gaze took in our daughter in all her naked glory for the first time, a lacivious smile playing across her lips. I expected her to balk at using our girl in this manner, but my games over the years have apparently rendered my former beauty queen as depraved as I. My wife’s eyes went to the walnut cabinet in the corner. “Yes,” I agreed in response to her silent suggestion. “Quite right, my dear.”

I led Sophie to the cabinet. “As our pet, you will do anything you are told. If you don’t obey, you will be punished.” A demonstration was in order. “Now, sit up!” She dropped back onto her haunches and held her “paws” up before her. Quick learner. I stepped close, placing my erect cock only inches from her face. “Lick,” I commanded. She hesitated, looking up at me with uncertainty. I gave her left titty a hard slap. She yelped when she felt the sting on her puffy nipple, and quickly began licking the head and shaft of my cock. “Good, now Daddy’s balls.” My daughter ducked her head lower and complied with my demand, tonguing my clean-shaven scrotum front, sides, and bottom. She was beginning to understand the scope of what I had in mind for her from now on.

I plucked the item I was after from the cabinet and walked my pet back to where her mother was suspended. I helped my wife from the sling and gave her a moment to restore circulation to all her limbs. After a whispered exchange, I moved back in front of my new pet with my wife at my side. “Sit up. Good, girl.” Her mother began stroking my cock in front of our pet’s face. When I was close to reaching climax, I ordered, “Open your mouth.” Once again there was a look of reservation on her face, and once again she received a sharp tit slap to prompt her compliance. Sophie opened her mouth wide. “Don’t swallow,” I warned her moments before her mom pumped my load of semen onto her tongue.

Once I was spent, my wife held her hand out and our pet spit my cum into her palm. The two of us then went around behind. “On all fours,” her mother directed. It gave me a pleasant thrill to hear that. I’d only ever seen my wife as my submissive. I’d never seen her take a dominant role, as she was with our new pet. Sophie’s mother began smearing my cum over her daughter’s asshole. “What are–” Her mom’s resounding bare-handed smack on her little rump quickly shut her up. Once her asshole was well lubricated with my semen, I carefully inserted the item I’d taken from the cabinet. Our little daughter-pet wailed in pain throughout the insertion. In time she would learn to relax and accept whatever we put into any of her holes.

I stood back and admired my creation. My wife was right, the addition of the anal plug with the long tail completed the effect to perfection. I took her for another stroll around the room – the room that was no longer off limits to my little pet.

The perverse glimmer in my wife’s eye didn’t escape me as we returned to her. I handed the least over. “You look as though you’d like a turn with our new toy.” She walked Sophie across the room and back, then ordered her to sit up, as I had earlier. My wife then turned around, backed up to our daughter-pet’s face, spread her own ass cheeks, and spoke the command, “Lick.” Sophie pulled back. “Bad girl,” her mother barked and yanked on the leash, pulling the girl’s head forward. The dreamy smile on my wife’s face indicated our pet was doing as told. I stepped up and began sucking on her fat nipples and fingering her bald pussy. It didn’t take long before my wife was cumming with her daughter’s tongue up her asshole. I wondered if Sophie was regretting her intrusion into my private sanctum yet. If she was, that regret would only become more intense because this was just the beginning. If she was getting what she wanted, then things were only going to get more interesting as time went on.

The next day when Sophie arrived home from school she did just as she was supposed to. She stripped naked in the foyer and donned the collar that was waiting there for her. She then sought me out. I took her to the room and outfitted her with the black heels, a set of nipple clamps, and (of course) her tail. My wife and I thoroughly enjoyed the new arrangement. Life was much more fun with a pet than with a daughter. A few times a week, I’d arrive home to find our toy lapping at my wife’s cunt. As often as not I’d join them, sliding my cock into my pet’s wet pussy. My dear wife had absolutely no qualms about me fucking our daughter-pet and frequently requested that I do so while she watched and pleasured herself with one of her many large toys. Sophie clearly enjoyed being our sex pet, and often misbehaved on purpose so that she could discover what new forms of punishment her owners would devise for her.

If fact, this is exactly what her mother and I are trying to determine at this very moment. Earlier this evening my wife put Sophie’s dinner bowl down on the kitchen floor. Instead of eating, our pet defiantly lifted her leg and piddled all over the floor. We rubbed her nose in the puddle and spanked her with a rolled up newspaper, but that wasn’t enough. Our naughty little pet clearly wanted to be taught a lesson she wouldn’t forget.

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This ‘n’ That

I have a couple bits of un-fun bizniss to get out of the way, and then a quick insight into my dirty mind.

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I love when you leave comments and I can’t get enough of them! I’ve complained about how clunky and basic the commenting system is on this blogging platform plenty of times, and I’m not going to stop anytime soon. One of the quirks of the system is that if anything is entered in the “website” field when you’re making a comment, then your message gets thrown into the spam bucket (it doesn’t even have to be a web address). I have no idea why, but it means that your comment won’t appear until I comb through the 30 to 50 items that show up in my spam bucket each day in order to rescue the occasional legitimate comment. If you want to your message to appear right away and not risk having it accidentally flushed with the real spam, always leave the “website” field blank!

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There has been a spike in requests for pictures of me. I want to once again make it clear that I don’t share pictures. If this is seems too vague, let me try to be more specific. I won’t share nude photos of myself. I won’t share clothed pics. I won’t share naked images with my face blurred or cut off. I won’t share clothed pictures of me with my face blurred or cut off. I won’t share photos of just my boobs, just my pussy, just my feet, or just any part of my body. I won’t send you pics of my sex toys, my dirty panties, or my used tampons. I won’t share pictures of my daughters, brother, or any family member. I guess what I’m trying to say (without sounding like too big of a bitch), is that I will not share pictures having anything to do with my private life. I totally understand why guys want/need my picture, but it’s just not going to happen. I’m honestly nothing all that special bodywise, and there are millions of willing naked women on the web with much more to offer than me. Part of my problem with the repeated requests is that I’m generally a people pleaser and I hate saying no. It’s uncomfortable for me to have to constantly say no even after I’ve addressed the sharing of pictures in other posts and in my FAQ. I feel like I freely share enough of my self through my stories and posts and don’t deserve the pressure to give more than I already do. Sorry for being such a downer on this topic, but if you want more details about why I’m so protective about sharing pictures, you can take a look at this post from waaaay back in 2014: Photophobia.

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In a recent email, a horny reader commented that he would like to be a fly on the wall when me and my friends get together with some wine. Well, I had to tell him that he would be one bored fly. My “mommy friends” are all very conservative and uptight (at least they are when we get together). It’s all about kids, TV shows, kids, clothes, kids, stupid husbands, and more kid stuff. To be honest, after about twenty minutes I’m ready to blow my brains out. But then my dirty mind takes over. As one of my friend chatters on, I wonder what she looks like naked. Big nipples or tiny points? Are they still firm or saggy fun bags? Hairy or shaved? Gnarly lips of delicate petals? Gaping fuck hole or modest love tunnel? I often wonder about what they look like when they masturbate. What technique do they use? Is she a furniture humper like me? Does she ram herself raw with a big dong while her legs are in the air? Does she quietly vibe herself under the blanket in the dark? Does she squat on a big black dildo in the middle of her living room and fuck it like there’s no tomorrow? After this, I start to bring husbands into the picture. Does she like to take it from behind or ride him reverse cowgirl style? Does she let him cum on her face? Do they tongue each other’s asshole like me and my husband? What would she do if I was sucking her husband’s cock right in front of her? Would she finger fuck herself and watch while I swallowed her man’s load? What if I took on all of their husbands at once? Three at a time filling each of my holes and covering me in hot jizz while those waiting their turn jerked their hard cocks in anticipation. Would my prudish friends gather around to lick my spunk-covered body clean after the men were done with me? Whew, yeah! So, while our get-togethers are extremely dull, I usually end up masturbating like a mad woman as soon as the tea party ends!

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I Saw Mommy Fucking Santa Claus

It was Christmas Eve and I was so excited that I couldn’t hardly sleep! Neither could Mister Wiggles and Dolly Holly. I was a good girl all year and it was finally going to pay off, but only if I could fall asleep. I closed my eyes real tight, but that didn’t work. Then I heard something outside. It might probably have been reindeer. I went and looked out the window. Snow was falling down, and I could see some footprints. Most likely elves. I jumped back into bed because I was afraid Santa would skip my house if I was awake. That’s when I first hear him.

“Ho, ho, ho…”

The sound came from downstairs. He was here! Right in my house. I tried to be the goodest I’ve ever been, but I couldn’t stand it. I had to go take one little peek. Mister Wiggles wanted to see, too. We sneaked down the stairs and there he was. It was Santa! I couldn’t even believe it. Wait until I told stupid Tiffany that he really was real. That’s when I saw something very strange.

Mommy was sitting on the floor in front of the Christmas tree. There were all kinds of presents there and I could tell most of them were for me. But the strange thing was that Mommy had hardly any clothes on. She usually wore a big, fluffy robe at night, but all she had on was this tiny little dress that you could see right through. She was looking at Santa and smiling in a funny way.

That’s when Mommy opened her legs apart and she didn’t have any underpants on. She was showing Santa her foo-foo. Mommy always told me that was s’posed to be private. Santa said, “Ho, ho, ho!” again and was very happy about it. Mommy started touching herself all over down between her legs and was kind of squirming around. It was the strangest thing I ever saw her do.

Santa took off his big mittens and pulled down his pants. I covered my eyes because I shouldn’t of seen Santa’s naked butt. I took another peek and saw him pulling on his ding-ding. I knew about ding-dings because I helped Mommy change my baby cousin’s diaper a couple times. Santa’s ding-ding was much, much bigger than Jeffery’s. He pulled and pulled and it got bigger and bigger. It must have been from Christmas magic. Mister Wiggles was scared, but he wanted to stay and see more.

Mommy was making funny noises and pinching the ends of her breasts (Tiffany calls them boobs). It looked like it hurt, but she was still smiling and she was having fun. That’s when Santa went over and waved his ding-ding around by her face. Mommy opened her mouth wide and Santa put his thing right in there! Mommy started sucking on it real hard. It was the strangest thing, but Santa made a moaning sound like it felt very good.

Then I noticed something felt good between my legs. I never felt anything like it before. I squeezed my legs together tight, but that only made it worser…or betterer, actually.

Santa pulled his huge ding-ding out of Mommy’s mouth and hit her face with it a bunch of times. I was afraid Mommy would get mad at him for doing that, but I guess she liked it. He grabbed one of her boobs and squeezed it. Mommy was still touching herself a lot between the legs and some of her fingers looked like they were going up inside somewhere. This was too crazy to believe.

The strange feeling in my underpants was going nuts. I stuffed Mister Wiggles down there to make it stop. It didn’t make it go away, but it felt extra nice instead.

Mommy suddenly turned around and got on her hands and knees like a doggy. Santa kneeled down behind her and poked at her behind with his big ding-ding. Mommy reached around and spread her butt cheeks open, then she said, “I’ve been a very naughty girl, Santa.” Was she crazy! That’s the last thing you want to say to Santa because then you don’t get any presents.

Santa leaned over and spit on her right between her butt cheeks. She was in so much trouble now!

“Yes you have,” he said. “Santa needs to teach this naught girl a lesson.”

Ho, boy, I knew Mommy was going to get it for that. What could she have done that was so bad?

“Santa is going to have to shove his North Pole in your naughty little asshole.”

I didn’t know what an asshole was, but it didn’t sound nice. Mommy just nodded and shook her butt. It was almost like she wanted to be punished! Santa pulled his ding-ding a few more times then pushed it against her. He pushed and pushed then all of a sudden it disappear somewhere. I very quietly moved down a few stairs so I could get a better look. That’s when I couldn’t believe what I was seeing more than anything.

Santa’s ding-ding was going into Mommy’s butt. It was impossible, but I guess if Santa can get down a chimney that he could also get up there. He moved so his giant thing went in and out. Mommy was making happy noises, and so was Santa. This didn’t look like such a bad punishment. Actually, it was almost like Mommy was being even more naughty than ever. Mister Wiggles rubbed against my foo-foo harder and harder, and I watched some more.

Santa’s ding-ding went in and out over and over again, and then he gave Mommy a big spank. I thought she was going to cry after that, but she only laughed and said, “More!” She got more spanks and liked it. I never liked getting spanks, but maybe I was s’posed to. Mister Wiggles was rubbing faster and faster.

“I’m coming,” Mommy said. “Oh, fuck, I’m coming.” I was very surprised that Mommy said a dirty word, and I couldn’t figure out where she was coming from because she was already right there. Everything was getting stranger and stranger. “Oh, Santa, fuck my dirty, naughty asshole!”

That’s when Mommy shook all over and made all kinds of whimpering noises. It made my foo-foo tingle when that happened, but I don’t know why.

“Santa’s ready,” he said and pulled his ding-ding out of Mommy’s butt.

Mommy turned around real fast and opened her mouth wide. Santa was pulling on his thing real fast.

“Santa only comes once a year,” he said, “and here it is you fucking cum slut!”

I didn’t have time to be upset about Santa saying a bad word because all of the sudden creamy milk began squirting out of his ding-ding and into Mommy’s mouth. He gave her about five squirts, and seeing that gave me even more tingles between my legs for some reason. Mommy moved her tongue around and it was all covered with the gooey milk. She swallowed a couple times then showed Santa that she’d swallowed it all. That made Santa very happy.

“Merry Christmas,” Santa said and leaned over and gave Mommy a big kiss. She would be in huge trouble if Daddy ever found out that she was kissing with someone else!

I quietly tip-toed back upstairs to my room and got into bed. That funny-nice feeling was still there between my legs. I laid down on my tummy with Dolly Holly under my foo-foo. I moved my butt around kind of like the way Mommy did and it felt really good. I kept giving myself tingles until I fell asleep.

When I woke up in the morning I thought that it must have all just been a dream. I ran downstairs and all my presents were there just like I had dreamed about. There was a bite taken out of the cookies I made for Santa, and the carrot was almost gone (most likely he let Rudolf eat it). I was about to go wake up Mommy and Daddy so I could open presents, then that’s when I saw it.

Where I had dreamed about Mommy and Santa doing strange things there was a spot on the floor. I got down close and looked at it. I sniffed it and it smelled familiar. I figured out that it was a dried spot of Santa’s ding-ding milk. It wasn’t a dream! I really saw Mommy fucking Santa Claus underneath the Christmas tree last night!

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Baiting My Brother

I was recently asked a question that really got me thinking. If I were to seduce my brother today, how would I go about it?

Not to be a spoil-sport, but I need to say right off the top that I have no intention of attempting to have sex with my brother. I say this in a futile effort to avoid a rash of messages telling me I should put this plan into action. As I’ve said before, I’m not willing to put my marriage, or his, in jeopardy in exchange for the sake of a kinky thrill. Between my husband and my writing, my pussy is already getting all the action she needs to be content. Now, if it should happen that we both somehow end up single at some point in the near future, I’ll reconsider. If, however, I had no regard for my wedding vows or the stability of Nick’s family, here’s what I’m thinking I’d do…

For starters, being the kind of person I am, I’d have to take things slow. If real life were a porno, I could just show up at his house one day, drop my panties, and say, “Wanna fuck?” Of course his answer would be, “Hell, yeah!” and we’d merrily go to pound town together on his kitchen floor without a second thought. While that’s certainly an option, the risk factor is well beyond what I’m willing to chance, and I’m more than certain I don’t have the balls to attempt anything even close to that.

The way I’d start it would be to test the waters in very gradual stages. I’d want to know with some confidence that he would respond positively to any advances I might make. I would be devastated if he rejected me, and probably too embarrassed to face him after coming on to him sexually only to be shot down. First I’d start dressing sexier when I knew I was going to see him. Nothing too overt, but I’d choose my wardrobe such that it would allow me the option to show off to him whenever the opportunity allowed, but remain otherwise conservative when anyone was around. For example, a short skirt that might ride up by accident, or a loose blouse that could hang open if I happened to lean over in front of him. I’d carefully watch to see what his reaction was to these incidental flashes of sister-flesh was. If he was happy to help himself to a peek rather than avert his eyes, this would prompt me to move to phase 2.

The next thing I’d have to do is find a way to spend time with him alone. This would be tricky. One idea is that I would have to use one of Nick’s hobbies that doesn’t involve his wife. What I came up with was golf. I could tell him that I want to learn to play. I’d ask if he could teach me, but not tell anyone because it was going to surprise my husband if I got good at it (which I wouldn’t). We could meet up at a local course once every week or two after he got out of work. I’d tell Dave I had joined some new club or was going to a women-only gym. I’d use the time on the course to get a little flirty with my brother, and do a bit more showing off in tight shorts and tops. Maybe even forget my bra on occasion.

After the driving range or a quick 9 holes, I’d do my best to maneuver him into the club house for a beer or two where we could talk. Over time I would carefully introduce topics that were more and more intimate. Again, I’d be careful to gauge his reaction to these conversational gambits. Does he try to change the subject, fidget and clam up, or engage with me and encourage further discussion along such provocative lines? I wouldn’t try anything too explicit out of the gate. Maybe get him to swap stories about any wild college experiences. Perhaps ask about girlfriends he had before getting married. And probably mention something I saw in the news or on Facebook that has a sexual element to it.

If he went along with this, I’d loosen up the joking and sexual innuendo. We can be fairly open around each other now, but sexy banter between us is very much the exception, not the rule – especially one-on-one. Assuming he plays along, I would work in more personal things. I might fill him in on how and when I lost my virginity, or tell him about the time I walked in on my roommate masturbating (I didn’t), or confess how my sex drive seems to be getting stronger as I get older (it is).

My hope would be that he’d respond in kind, and talk with me about similarly private aspects of his life. If nothing else, having Nick talk about his sexual experiences with me would be enough to fuel my masturbation fantasies for a couple decades. When I felt it was safe, I’d go even deeper. I’d admit to finding our father’s porn stash and maybe mention how I’d sneak out to the garage on occasion and spend some “alone time” looking at his dirty magazines and books. I’d hint around about sometimes looking at porn online, working it into the conversation in the form of a little joke here and there. I’d also be sure to look for any excuse to touch him. A lingering pat on the shoulder, helping him get the ketchup off his lip, or fixing his mussed up hair for him. Of course, I’d only say and do these sorts of things after a beer or two, allowing me to blame the alcohol if I got myself into trouble.

I thought about using text messages and/or email to supplement my flirtation, but there would be too much danger leaving evidence like that for either of our spouses to find. As tempting as it is, most of the people getting caught misbehaving are undone because of their phone or computer. With everything going to plan, I’d wait for just the right time and tell him that I wrote an erotic story that I posted online. If he wanted to see it, I’d direct him to some site where I had uploaded it under a new alias. I’d either write something new, or use a version of “Coming Out to Play.” Upon receiving a positive response, I’d tell him I’d also written a “taboo” story but was afraid to post it. Ideally, he’d encourage me to put it on the web (mostly because he’s secretly dying to read it). The story would be something fairly neutral to our situation so as not to be too blatant about what I was up to. Maybe a nice sister/sister story where the first initials of the girls’ names would be N and R (matching Nick and Rachael).

Once I’d gotten favorable feedback from him on the incest story, I’d probably teasingly ask him if he jerked off to it. Not sure if he’d confess to this, but I wouldn’t press him too hard on it knowing that he had most likely beat his dick like a rented mule while reading his little sister’s filthy story. I’d then let Nick know that I’d gotten a lot of requests from readers for a brother/sister story, but I’d feel weird about writing something like that and would want his blessing before attempting a story that hit that close to home. Hopefully he’d push for more details, and I’d explain that I had a weird crush on him when we were teens. My mission at that point would to be to get some sort of confirmation from him that he had any kind of sexual interest in me back then.

At this point, everything has all been slowly developing over the course of several months at the minimum. Maybe golf season is over by now and I’ve wormed my way onto his co-ed darts team. Whatever the case, if everything feels right, I’ll hit the fruity girl-drinks harder than usual during one of our get-togethers. While we’re saying our goodbyes in the parking lot, I’ll step up close to him and ask, “Can I try something?” Before he can answer, I’ll go up on my tippy-toes and kiss him on the lips. But not a sister kiss. A nice, long, sexy, “I want you” kiss.

If I need an explanation, I’ll tell him that I always wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss him like that, and that it was much better than I imagined. After that, I would pretty much leave it up to him to move things forward. If he hadn’t taken the lead by then, this would be the full steam ahead signal from me. I wouldn’t play any games with him. If he kept things between us at the level they were, I’d go along with that. If he tried to seduce me, I’d let him. If he shoved me in the backseat of his SUV and wanted to fuck me there on the spot, I’d spread my legs and hand my pussy over to him to do with as he pleased. Knowing my brother, he’d be more gentlemanly than that. Part of the thrill for me would be to see how he went about crossing that line with me. I could definitely go for a bit of seduction – something I don’t think I’ll be able to experience again in my romantic life.

I don’t believe I have a preference between a brief affair versus a prolonged siblings-with-benefits arrangement, but I’d be happy either way. Just being able to know what it’s like to fuck and suck my brother’s cock, to make him jerk off for me while I watch, and to taste his cum would more than satisfy me for years to come (and come, and come).

Okay, so it’s far from being the boldest plan, but with my personality it’s the best I can imagine myself doing in real life. Taking it slow would give me plenty of chances to bail if he wasn’t picking up what I was putting down. Also, using alcohol and humor would provide a cover to safely pull back from any comments or actions that he felt were inappropriate.

And, whether he went for me or not, I’d always have my fantasies and a fat dildo with his name on it!

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