When you start writing a fiction story, it's fun to think about where to start. But when you're writing a true story, especially one with a lot of threads runnings through it, deciding where to start is really hard. There are so many strands involved in explaining the key event, and people won't understand you if you don't describe them well. They may even judge you.
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It was becoming a regular habit now. Once for sure, more often twice, and once in awhile, 3-times a week I would go by Cathy's early in the morning to say "Hi". To maintain protocol, I would even go by the dreaded week and get terrific blow jobs. Often, I arrived even before Bill pulled out and headed for work. We would chat, then I would head in to lay some meat between my sisters thighs.
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- - - 6 Months Ago - - -
"Mr. Adams... Mr. Adams?"
"Yeah, sorry."
"Mr. Adams, we just need your signature right here."
Done. Signed. Sealed. Divorced.
Well, there went 22 years. My wife and I waited until the kids finished college, at least. Very amicable. We just split right down the middle. Of course she also got the guy from Newport Beach with Ferraris and a massive house. I got a little apartment in San Jose. Whatever.
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I was just 24 and on my first job. This was in Delhi, while the rest of my family still lived in Panjab. My father had a small house where I stayed.
One day my father called.
"Renu and her friend will be coming to Delhi for about a couple of weeks on a short course. Put them up and look after them well."
Renu was a cousin, one I liked as she was not riotous. She was very respectful towards me as younger cousins are expected to be in India.
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For a 19-year-old guy, there is nothing more embarrassing or unsettling than to be caught by your mother fucking a sweet young thing in her bed. We should have at least heard the door deadbolt unlock! 18-year-old Sheila was in the throes of a mind-blowing orgasm I had just given her by eating her pussy. Midway through the orgasm I had scurried to mount her. She had guided my cock into her and I was fucking her with abandonment when she screamed.
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This story is my entry for the 2013 Winter Holidays Story Contest so, if you like it, please remember to vote! Thanks for taking the time to read, and Merry Christmas to all!
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Katy silently sprinkled the last of the sparkling dust across the snow and looked up at the clear, night sky, watching for reindeer. Seeing the sky empty except for stars, she turned to admire her handiwork; the blanket of snow wrapped around her house shimmered with the silvery dust.
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It all started when I was eighteen after graduation ceremony I took part in the all night party that the town puts on for all the seniors. I'm not really into the party scene mainly because I'm in a wheelchair and most homes aren't easy to access and with thirty to forty drunk people stumbling around it isn't really that safe for myself or them. I spend most nights at home either on the computer or watching television. My father died when I was a baby leaving mom and I to fend for ourselves which was hard on us both.
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So my sister Missy was a stripper. So what. I had some problems with a few of my friends when they found out; endless questions and defense of her character. It was even worse if friends actually saw her perform. I had a real falling out with a friend who, drunk, asked me if I ever wanted to fuck her. That stuff was tough to deal with, but, hey, I was her brother and it was my job to defend her. She was an adult and could do what she wanted.
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I lay in my dad's arms, still woozy from what just happened -- physically and emotionally. My free right hand reached for his arm, and caressed the knots of muscle that roping from the shoulder to the elbow. It struck me then, that there was something about an older man in peak physical shape that I found desperately attractive. Of course, he owed this fact to his job as a conditioning coach -- but there it was all the same, this frame of capable limbs, narrow waist, and a big, brutish chest.
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I grew up in a mid-size city, a middle class family and mostly sheltered from the big city life of Chicago just a few hours away. We didn't have rave parties and orgies, but we knew about them of course. I was the oldest by three years and always very protective of my baby sister. My family and I tried to keep the realities of inner city life away from her the best we could.
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