Introduction
In chapters 1 through 4, I told you the story of Christmas Eve 2013, during which my stepbrother and I were unexpectedly left alone so our parents could travel to Ontario to deal with our grandmother’s stroke. Feeling lonely and nostalgic, Michael and I invaded my stepdad’s liquor cabinet.
The alcohol only served to augment my feeling of loneliness, making me long for some type of human contact. We watched classic Christmas movies together. And while I was innocently massaging my stepbrother’s shoulders, and Michael was massaging my feet, the touching gradually moved from innocent to intimate.
We explored each other, petted, necked, and masturbated each other to amazing orgasms. Knowing that we had the house to ourselves, we decided to wash the semen and smell of sex from our bodies in our parents’ large Jacuzzi tub.
While we were cuddling and relaxing in our parents' tub, Michael and I were startled from our bliss when we heard the garage door opener activate. Our parents came home unexpectedly!
Through a remarkable sequence of events, Michael and I extricated ourselves from this ‘situation’ and our parents were unaware of our intimacies.
This remarkable evening started a period of intimacy and sexual discovery between my stepbrother and me that I will always cherish.
For the next eight months, Michael and I enjoyed each other, explored each other, and pleasured each other. We enjoyed everything except intercourse. Something stopped both of us from taking that final step. Michael never really pushed it, and neither did I.
Michael and I had developed a deep emotional and physical connection over this time. As August approached, I got increasingly anxious about leaving for the university. I did not know if I could force myself to end the relationship with Michael. I contemplated staying at home and attending a local junior college for a year, just so I could continue the intimate relationship with my stepbrother.
But when the day finally arrived, I knew I had to go away. I knew I had to leave for the University of British Columbia in Vancouver. As painful as it was, I knew what I had to do.
And so I left Michael, and the pleasure of his touch, and the comfort of his embrace nearly four months ago.
Finals week:
Startled, I awakened from a deep sleep. Momentarily, I was confused and aroused. My nipples were hard, my breasts were heaving and my vagina was leaking as I tried to comprehend what had just occurred.
Slowly, from the depths of slumber, I began to become aware. As I stirred to consciousness, I realized it happened again; I had experienced another orgasm as a result of a sexually charged dream. The dream was almost scary in its realism and vivid details. And it was about my stepbrother.
It felt so very real. My slumber induced climax that had awakened me, just as it had once or twice a month since I left my home in August. The details varied, but the dream always involved Michael and I engaging in heavy petting or orally pleasing each other before we decided to take the next step.
I always seem to achieve my climax immediately before Michael penetrates me. The climax always awakens me. But the dream never continues long enough for me to actually lose my virginity. It leaves me physically satisfied, but anxious and emotionally unfulfilled. I actually would prefer to have the dream extend to Michael actually entering me. But it does not.
My heart pounded and my breath was labored.
I looked at the digital clock and could see it was 3:19 a.m. My mind raced recalling the details of the vivid dream. I tried to purge my thoughts and return to sleep for several more hours. But it was no use. My mind was running a thousand different directions now.
I knew from my high school health classes that teenage boys regularly experienced wet dreams or nocturnal emissions. But I had never really heard of any other women having ‘wet dreams’, but I promise you, since August, I have them with amazing regularity; perhaps twice a month.
The frequency, intensity and realism of these nocturnal climaxes seemed to be increasing dramatically since I left my parents’ home outside of Calgary to attend the University of British Columbia in Vancouver last August.
As I lay in bed, my head spinning, I could feel my erect clitoris pulsing distinctly and my vaginal secretions slowly seeping out of me, making my thighs and bottom damp from my juices. And every time I have one of these dreams, I respond the same way. I become aroused, and I almost always climax in my sleep before bolting awake.
I wondered if these drams were my subconscious' way of telling me I was ready; that it was time to give myself wholly and completely to my stepbrother?
The timing of this wet dream was also disturbing. The following day, Friday, I was scheduled to fly home for winter break. This would be my first visit home since leaving for college back in mid-August. I would see my younger stepbrother tomorrow. I was excited and nervous about my return home.
I return home - Friday:
I completed my last final exam slightly before 3:00 p.m. I returned to my dorm, packed, and then caught a ride to the airport.
I ate a chicken Caesar salad at the airport while I waited for my flight.
The Air Canada flight 224 departed at 6:00 p.m., Vancouver time. Because of the time zone change, an hour and a half later, we touched down, just before 8:30 p.m. Calgary time. During the hour and half flight my mind raced with the multitude of possibilities that lay in front of me.
Exactly one week ago I had taken a very big step. I visited the clinic on campus and obtained a prescription to birth control pills. I realized as I was doing this that I was preparing to allow my stepbrother to deflower me. I was getting the protection necessary to allow Michael to enter me, and ejaculate inside me; to rupture my hymen. I was very nervous and excited about allowing my stepbrother to capture my virginity.
I was also feeling scared and guilty. If I went through with this, if I let Michael enter my womanhood, we would move past the petting and exploration that we enjoyed to becoming ‘lovers’ in every sense of the word.
Would we live to regret this? Was society correct? Would this forever scar each of us emotionally?
On an objective and intellectual level, I knew that someday we would have to move on. Michael and I could not be a couple. Society would not permit it. We would always be forced to keep our relationship and our intimacies secret. We could not live as man and wife, we could not hold hands walking down the street, or contemplate having children. These were activities we would have to reserve for other people, not each other.
As the plane hummed along at 40,000 feet, I knew that allowing Michael and my relationship to progress to the point that we were having actual intercourse would make the eventual cessation of our intimacies even more painful and difficult.
Nonetheless, I knew that I wanted my stepbrother to ‘be the one’ who took me first. I wanted his semen inside me. I wanted him to rupture my hymen. And most of all, I wanted to be the first woman he did these things with. I wanted him to remember that I was his first for the rest of his life.
I know it is warped, perverse and sick, but I wanted to know that for the rest of our lives, at every family function that Michael and I attended with our spouses and our children, we would both think about the intimate deep secret we shared; that he and I lost our virginities to each other during the winter break of 2014.
Part of me was angry. I was angry at the strict rules that society had imposed upon us. I was angry that because of these mores, I could never have what I really wanted, which was to completely belong to my stepbrother: to allow him to impregnate me and to carry and raise his child as his wife. I wanted to nurse our children while my stepbrother held me in his arms.
After all, we were not biologically related. My mother just happened to be married to his father. But I realized that in our society, we were considered 'off limits' to each other.
No, we could not be a couple in public; that was not possible. So I would have to settle for a brief period of intimacy during which my stepbrother and I would share a fantasy relationship, and each other. And this memory would have to last me the rest of my life.
As the Air Canada flight began its decent, I wondered if Michael felt similar to me? Would Michael and I resume where we left off? Would my stepbrother still want and need me?
What if he had become involved with someone else? That thought suddenly frightened me. After deciding to ‘go on the pill’ so that I could safely accept my stepbrother’s sperm into my womb, I did not think I could handle rejection. If Michael wanted to maintain a normal and more socially acceptable relationship now, I would be absolutely devastated. I would be forced to accept his decision, but I would be crushed.
As the plane touched down, I realized I was scared and aroused by these thoughts. I blushed as I realized that the gusset of my panties was very damp as I thought about my stepbrother. What would the man sitting next to me think if he knew that my vagina was lubricated and leaking into my underwear as I fantasized about fucking my younger stepbrother? Would he be horrified? Aroused? Or perhaps he would be both?
My parents were waiting at baggage claim. I was confused, and disappointed that Michael was not there.
I hugged them. We said our greetings. I asked, “Where is Michael?”
“Oh, he is out with his buddies tonight. I think they are at a hockey game. He said he would see you when he got home tonight,” my dad answered nonchalantly.
I tried not to let me disappointment show, but I was hurt, deeply hurt. How could he decide to go to a hockey game rather than meeting me at the airport after we had been apart for four months? I felt a sudden ache in my heart. Was this a sign that all my feelings and fantasies were not shared by my stepbrother? Had he already moved on? Did the closeness we shared mean so little to him?
I felt empty and very alone. I tried not to show it, but this hurt.
Mom noticed. On the way home she remarked, “Kelsey, you are awful quiet. Is everything alright?”
I answered quite honestly, “Yeah, mom, I’m fine. I am just exhausted. I was up most of last night studying for finals. I have not been sleeping well. I am just tired.”
We arrived at the house around ten o'clock. Michael was still not home. Feeling somewhat abandoned, I told my parents that I was tired, which I actually was, and made my excuses to retire early. I was in bed by eleven.
Despite being hurt and mad at my brother’s insensitivity, my sadness and disappointment gave way to my exhaustion, and I quickly fell asleep.
From the depths of slumber, I was awakened by Michael sitting on my bed. I did not hear him enter my room or approach me. But the movement of my mattress as he sat down awakened me. I was confused as I tried to clear my head and understand where I was and who was with me.
“Kelsey, are you awake?” Michael asked as his gently slid his hand up my side and gently found my breast under the thick quilt.
“What are you doing?” was my confused response as I struggled to consciousness.
”I just wanted to say hi, and welcome you home,” Michael answered.
“I noticed that you were conspicuously absent when mom and dad picked me up at the airport.” My irritation was obvious; however, my hurt was masked.
In chapters 1 through 4, I told you the story of Christmas Eve 2013, during which my stepbrother and I were unexpectedly left alone so our parents could travel to Ontario to deal with our grandmother’s stroke. Feeling lonely and nostalgic, Michael and I invaded my stepdad’s liquor cabinet.
The alcohol only served to augment my feeling of loneliness, making me long for some type of human contact. We watched classic Christmas movies together. And while I was innocently massaging my stepbrother’s shoulders, and Michael was massaging my feet, the touching gradually moved from innocent to intimate.
We explored each other, petted, necked, and masturbated each other to amazing orgasms. Knowing that we had the house to ourselves, we decided to wash the semen and smell of sex from our bodies in our parents’ large Jacuzzi tub.
While we were cuddling and relaxing in our parents' tub, Michael and I were startled from our bliss when we heard the garage door opener activate. Our parents came home unexpectedly!
Through a remarkable sequence of events, Michael and I extricated ourselves from this ‘situation’ and our parents were unaware of our intimacies.
This remarkable evening started a period of intimacy and sexual discovery between my stepbrother and me that I will always cherish.
For the next eight months, Michael and I enjoyed each other, explored each other, and pleasured each other. We enjoyed everything except intercourse. Something stopped both of us from taking that final step. Michael never really pushed it, and neither did I.
Michael and I had developed a deep emotional and physical connection over this time. As August approached, I got increasingly anxious about leaving for the university. I did not know if I could force myself to end the relationship with Michael. I contemplated staying at home and attending a local junior college for a year, just so I could continue the intimate relationship with my stepbrother.
But when the day finally arrived, I knew I had to go away. I knew I had to leave for the University of British Columbia in Vancouver. As painful as it was, I knew what I had to do.
And so I left Michael, and the pleasure of his touch, and the comfort of his embrace nearly four months ago.
Finals week:
Startled, I awakened from a deep sleep. Momentarily, I was confused and aroused. My nipples were hard, my breasts were heaving and my vagina was leaking as I tried to comprehend what had just occurred.
Slowly, from the depths of slumber, I began to become aware. As I stirred to consciousness, I realized it happened again; I had experienced another orgasm as a result of a sexually charged dream. The dream was almost scary in its realism and vivid details. And it was about my stepbrother.
It felt so very real. My slumber induced climax that had awakened me, just as it had once or twice a month since I left my home in August. The details varied, but the dream always involved Michael and I engaging in heavy petting or orally pleasing each other before we decided to take the next step.
I always seem to achieve my climax immediately before Michael penetrates me. The climax always awakens me. But the dream never continues long enough for me to actually lose my virginity. It leaves me physically satisfied, but anxious and emotionally unfulfilled. I actually would prefer to have the dream extend to Michael actually entering me. But it does not.
My heart pounded and my breath was labored.
I looked at the digital clock and could see it was 3:19 a.m. My mind raced recalling the details of the vivid dream. I tried to purge my thoughts and return to sleep for several more hours. But it was no use. My mind was running a thousand different directions now.
I knew from my high school health classes that teenage boys regularly experienced wet dreams or nocturnal emissions. But I had never really heard of any other women having ‘wet dreams’, but I promise you, since August, I have them with amazing regularity; perhaps twice a month.
The frequency, intensity and realism of these nocturnal climaxes seemed to be increasing dramatically since I left my parents’ home outside of Calgary to attend the University of British Columbia in Vancouver last August.
As I lay in bed, my head spinning, I could feel my erect clitoris pulsing distinctly and my vaginal secretions slowly seeping out of me, making my thighs and bottom damp from my juices. And every time I have one of these dreams, I respond the same way. I become aroused, and I almost always climax in my sleep before bolting awake.
I wondered if these drams were my subconscious' way of telling me I was ready; that it was time to give myself wholly and completely to my stepbrother?
The timing of this wet dream was also disturbing. The following day, Friday, I was scheduled to fly home for winter break. This would be my first visit home since leaving for college back in mid-August. I would see my younger stepbrother tomorrow. I was excited and nervous about my return home.
I return home - Friday:
I completed my last final exam slightly before 3:00 p.m. I returned to my dorm, packed, and then caught a ride to the airport.
I ate a chicken Caesar salad at the airport while I waited for my flight.
The Air Canada flight 224 departed at 6:00 p.m., Vancouver time. Because of the time zone change, an hour and a half later, we touched down, just before 8:30 p.m. Calgary time. During the hour and half flight my mind raced with the multitude of possibilities that lay in front of me.
Exactly one week ago I had taken a very big step. I visited the clinic on campus and obtained a prescription to birth control pills. I realized as I was doing this that I was preparing to allow my stepbrother to deflower me. I was getting the protection necessary to allow Michael to enter me, and ejaculate inside me; to rupture my hymen. I was very nervous and excited about allowing my stepbrother to capture my virginity.
I was also feeling scared and guilty. If I went through with this, if I let Michael enter my womanhood, we would move past the petting and exploration that we enjoyed to becoming ‘lovers’ in every sense of the word.
Would we live to regret this? Was society correct? Would this forever scar each of us emotionally?
On an objective and intellectual level, I knew that someday we would have to move on. Michael and I could not be a couple. Society would not permit it. We would always be forced to keep our relationship and our intimacies secret. We could not live as man and wife, we could not hold hands walking down the street, or contemplate having children. These were activities we would have to reserve for other people, not each other.
As the plane hummed along at 40,000 feet, I knew that allowing Michael and my relationship to progress to the point that we were having actual intercourse would make the eventual cessation of our intimacies even more painful and difficult.
Nonetheless, I knew that I wanted my stepbrother to ‘be the one’ who took me first. I wanted his semen inside me. I wanted him to rupture my hymen. And most of all, I wanted to be the first woman he did these things with. I wanted him to remember that I was his first for the rest of his life.
I know it is warped, perverse and sick, but I wanted to know that for the rest of our lives, at every family function that Michael and I attended with our spouses and our children, we would both think about the intimate deep secret we shared; that he and I lost our virginities to each other during the winter break of 2014.
Part of me was angry. I was angry at the strict rules that society had imposed upon us. I was angry that because of these mores, I could never have what I really wanted, which was to completely belong to my stepbrother: to allow him to impregnate me and to carry and raise his child as his wife. I wanted to nurse our children while my stepbrother held me in his arms.
After all, we were not biologically related. My mother just happened to be married to his father. But I realized that in our society, we were considered 'off limits' to each other.
No, we could not be a couple in public; that was not possible. So I would have to settle for a brief period of intimacy during which my stepbrother and I would share a fantasy relationship, and each other. And this memory would have to last me the rest of my life.
As the Air Canada flight began its decent, I wondered if Michael felt similar to me? Would Michael and I resume where we left off? Would my stepbrother still want and need me?
What if he had become involved with someone else? That thought suddenly frightened me. After deciding to ‘go on the pill’ so that I could safely accept my stepbrother’s sperm into my womb, I did not think I could handle rejection. If Michael wanted to maintain a normal and more socially acceptable relationship now, I would be absolutely devastated. I would be forced to accept his decision, but I would be crushed.
As the plane touched down, I realized I was scared and aroused by these thoughts. I blushed as I realized that the gusset of my panties was very damp as I thought about my stepbrother. What would the man sitting next to me think if he knew that my vagina was lubricated and leaking into my underwear as I fantasized about fucking my younger stepbrother? Would he be horrified? Aroused? Or perhaps he would be both?
My parents were waiting at baggage claim. I was confused, and disappointed that Michael was not there.
I hugged them. We said our greetings. I asked, “Where is Michael?”
“Oh, he is out with his buddies tonight. I think they are at a hockey game. He said he would see you when he got home tonight,” my dad answered nonchalantly.
I tried not to let me disappointment show, but I was hurt, deeply hurt. How could he decide to go to a hockey game rather than meeting me at the airport after we had been apart for four months? I felt a sudden ache in my heart. Was this a sign that all my feelings and fantasies were not shared by my stepbrother? Had he already moved on? Did the closeness we shared mean so little to him?
I felt empty and very alone. I tried not to show it, but this hurt.
Mom noticed. On the way home she remarked, “Kelsey, you are awful quiet. Is everything alright?”
I answered quite honestly, “Yeah, mom, I’m fine. I am just exhausted. I was up most of last night studying for finals. I have not been sleeping well. I am just tired.”
We arrived at the house around ten o'clock. Michael was still not home. Feeling somewhat abandoned, I told my parents that I was tired, which I actually was, and made my excuses to retire early. I was in bed by eleven.
Despite being hurt and mad at my brother’s insensitivity, my sadness and disappointment gave way to my exhaustion, and I quickly fell asleep.
From the depths of slumber, I was awakened by Michael sitting on my bed. I did not hear him enter my room or approach me. But the movement of my mattress as he sat down awakened me. I was confused as I tried to clear my head and understand where I was and who was with me.
“Kelsey, are you awake?” Michael asked as his gently slid his hand up my side and gently found my breast under the thick quilt.
“What are you doing?” was my confused response as I struggled to consciousness.
”I just wanted to say hi, and welcome you home,” Michael answered.
“I noticed that you were conspicuously absent when mom and dad picked me up at the airport.” My irritation was obvious; however, my hurt was masked.
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I could not see Michael’s face in the darkness. The only light in the room was from the digital clock on my night stand.
“Kelsey, I have been looking forward to you coming home for months. I just did not want Mom or Dad to get suspicious about my feelings. I have had a ‘stiffy’ for the past week in anticipation of you returning.”
Michael paused for a moment before continuing, “I thought it would raise their concerns if I went to the airport with them while sporting a huge boner for my stepsister.”
I was still hurt and irritated that Michael did not meet me at the airport, but he was slowly convincing me that it was not solely because he did not care, or that he would rather hang out on a Friday evening with his buddies.
I lay there silently in the darkness, allowing Michael to caress my now erect nipple through the cotton material of my t-shirt as I pondered how to respond. After a few moments of silence, I decided to be honest with him.
“I was hurt and mad that you were not there to greet me. Oh, I don’t know, maybe disappointed is a more accurate description. But it bothered me that you did not care enough to come to the airport.” I knew that my tone conveyed the extent of my disappointment.
I had to admit that I was enjoying the way Michael was teasing my nipple as he sat there on my bed. I placed my hand on his thigh and give him a slight but affectionate squeeze meant to convey to him that I was getting over my hurt.
“Kelsey, I’m sorry you were disappointed. I really was unsure about whether or not to go with Mom and Dad. I was concerned that somehow something either you or I would do or say would alert them to us. Or at least make them suspicious.”
Michael started to lie down on the bed next to me under my quilt.
"Michael, go lock the door," I instructed.
Michael hopped up, and scurried across the room in the darkness. I heard the distinct click of the lock before he hurriedly returned to m bed.
Lying next to me, he pulled me onto my side, facing him and he kissed me. I was hesitant at first, not completely sure whether or not I was still mad. I also was not certain that Michael had demonstrated sufficient contrition for disappointing me by not showing up at the airport to meet me.
But after a moment’s hesitation, during which I returned my brother’s kiss closed mouthed and with less passion than he was expecting, gradually, I felt my resolve weaken. I slowly opened my mouth to accept his tongue and started to return his kiss.
I knew I wanted to be with him. I knew we only had a limited time before I would have to return to school. And I knew that I had a very special present I wanted to offer him during my visit home; my virginity.
My mind wandered for an instant to the birth control pills I started taking a week ago. I could take my brother inside me, unprotected now any time I wanted. But now was not the right time. My deflowering needed to be special, very special. If Michael and I were to do this, I was going to make sure it was beautiful, romantic and memorable. So I returned my attention to Michael’s immediate needs and desires.
I could feel Michael’s erection pressing against my vulva as we ground our pelvises together. Michael still had his jeans on, but his penis was forming a rigid bulge in the front of his pants.
Michael rolled and shimmied as he pulled me on top of him. He was much larger and stronger than me, so he was able to ‘place me’ and ‘move me’ into a position where my vulva was pressed firmly into the large bulge mad by his blood engorged cock.
I responded like I had many times before. I moaned as I sucked his tongue into my mouth, and I rocked my hips pressing my now erect clitoris into him, humping and rubbing our crotches together as our passion and arousal grew.
Michael reached behind me, and slid his hand inside the back waistband of my pajama bottoms. He gave my left butt cheek a squeeze before reaching further down, probing between my legs to find the wet opening of my vulva which was dilating from the stimulation on my clitoris. I was surprised how I had become so wet so quickly.
Michael parted my outer lips with his index finger and middle finger, and slowly began penetrating me with his fingers.
Oh how I had longed for his touch while I was away.
Soon he had his fingers deep inside me massaging the front wall of my vagina, while I humped myself against him.
The pent up desire from being deprived of his touch for the past three and a half months caused me to respond quickly. I could feel my orgasm starting to build already.
“Oh Michael, you have me so turned on. I am not going to last long,” I whispered in his ear before returning to our open mouthed kiss. “Michael, you’re going to make me cum.”
The pace of my humping quickened as I felt my climax approaching.
“Oh god, here it comes. Don’t stop,” I cried out....
“Kelsey, I have been looking forward to you coming home for months. I just did not want Mom or Dad to get suspicious about my feelings. I have had a ‘stiffy’ for the past week in anticipation of you returning.”
Michael paused for a moment before continuing, “I thought it would raise their concerns if I went to the airport with them while sporting a huge boner for my stepsister.”
I was still hurt and irritated that Michael did not meet me at the airport, but he was slowly convincing me that it was not solely because he did not care, or that he would rather hang out on a Friday evening with his buddies.
I lay there silently in the darkness, allowing Michael to caress my now erect nipple through the cotton material of my t-shirt as I pondered how to respond. After a few moments of silence, I decided to be honest with him.
“I was hurt and mad that you were not there to greet me. Oh, I don’t know, maybe disappointed is a more accurate description. But it bothered me that you did not care enough to come to the airport.” I knew that my tone conveyed the extent of my disappointment.
I had to admit that I was enjoying the way Michael was teasing my nipple as he sat there on my bed. I placed my hand on his thigh and give him a slight but affectionate squeeze meant to convey to him that I was getting over my hurt.
“Kelsey, I’m sorry you were disappointed. I really was unsure about whether or not to go with Mom and Dad. I was concerned that somehow something either you or I would do or say would alert them to us. Or at least make them suspicious.”
Michael started to lie down on the bed next to me under my quilt.
"Michael, go lock the door," I instructed.
Michael hopped up, and scurried across the room in the darkness. I heard the distinct click of the lock before he hurriedly returned to m bed.
Lying next to me, he pulled me onto my side, facing him and he kissed me. I was hesitant at first, not completely sure whether or not I was still mad. I also was not certain that Michael had demonstrated sufficient contrition for disappointing me by not showing up at the airport to meet me.
But after a moment’s hesitation, during which I returned my brother’s kiss closed mouthed and with less passion than he was expecting, gradually, I felt my resolve weaken. I slowly opened my mouth to accept his tongue and started to return his kiss.
I knew I wanted to be with him. I knew we only had a limited time before I would have to return to school. And I knew that I had a very special present I wanted to offer him during my visit home; my virginity.
My mind wandered for an instant to the birth control pills I started taking a week ago. I could take my brother inside me, unprotected now any time I wanted. But now was not the right time. My deflowering needed to be special, very special. If Michael and I were to do this, I was going to make sure it was beautiful, romantic and memorable. So I returned my attention to Michael’s immediate needs and desires.
I could feel Michael’s erection pressing against my vulva as we ground our pelvises together. Michael still had his jeans on, but his penis was forming a rigid bulge in the front of his pants.
Michael rolled and shimmied as he pulled me on top of him. He was much larger and stronger than me, so he was able to ‘place me’ and ‘move me’ into a position where my vulva was pressed firmly into the large bulge mad by his blood engorged cock.
I responded like I had many times before. I moaned as I sucked his tongue into my mouth, and I rocked my hips pressing my now erect clitoris into him, humping and rubbing our crotches together as our passion and arousal grew.
Michael reached behind me, and slid his hand inside the back waistband of my pajama bottoms. He gave my left butt cheek a squeeze before reaching further down, probing between my legs to find the wet opening of my vulva which was dilating from the stimulation on my clitoris. I was surprised how I had become so wet so quickly.
Michael parted my outer lips with his index finger and middle finger, and slowly began penetrating me with his fingers.
Oh how I had longed for his touch while I was away.
Soon he had his fingers deep inside me massaging the front wall of my vagina, while I humped myself against him.
The pent up desire from being deprived of his touch for the past three and a half months caused me to respond quickly. I could feel my orgasm starting to build already.
“Oh Michael, you have me so turned on. I am not going to last long,” I whispered in his ear before returning to our open mouthed kiss. “Michael, you’re going to make me cum.”
The pace of my humping quickened as I felt my climax approaching.
“Oh god, here it comes. Don’t stop,” I cried out....
