My name is Tiffany. Of course that isn't my real name, but it should suffice for posterity sake. Let me expand on some of what I already have shared in my first story, as well as things that actually happened and my fantasies that shape who I am and the things I try and publish.
First let's talk about what actually happened between me and my sister Sarah. Which is no more her name than Tiffany is mine.
Did I actually smell and masturbate to my sisters panties? The answer is yes. Sarah and I, actually are quite open about this with each other. She still claims that it was one of the hottest things she ever witnessed! Do I have a panty fetish? I don't know. I certainly enjoy the smell of pussy (and taste) and absolutely love seeing my girlfriend in lingerie. Nor can I ever see a sexy pair of panties without thinking about what happened. I certainly don't remember having a panty fetish before this event...So maybe?
Did my sister and I actually have the conversation I depicted in the story. Yes we did. I did not record it verbatim but for the most part it is an accurate retelling. And before you ask, yes she did kiss me (no tongue!) and yes she was wearing the white thong I masturbated to.
Finally, drum roll please, did we actually masturbate together that night. The answer is a resounding yes. That event has in part shaped a lot of my sexual preferences since it happened. It certainly laid the ground work for later events.
Did we actually go down on each other? Unfortunately no. Neither of us is quite ready to go down that rabbit hole yet. If it ever does happen and Sarah agrees maybe I will tell it.
What are my sexual preferences? What gets me going? If you have read my Bio you see I consider myself bisexual. A more accurate depiction would be prefers women but is open minded. So a lot of my stories have common lesbian elements.
I certainly enjoy Incest/Taboo stories. Do you have to wonder why? Part of the reason I think you already know, but I have often pondered this question myself. The answer I think, has more to do with the total surrender to pleasure than it has to do with me fucking my relatives. The thought that 2 people can be so turned on that they throw social norms out the window and just get it on, makes me extremely wet. It's not the fact that they are related, so much as the fact that they are so turned on that they don't care. Before the incident with my sister, I had never even given incest a single thought. After? Well many of my masturbation sessions revolve around Sister/Sister, Mother/Daughter or Brother/Sister. Surprisingly not my Father. I guess a Psychologist might have something to say about that. Probably get in to abandonment issues I have in regards to my Father.
Anal? Love it! I know where this comes from. Back when I was still figuring things out, I had the misconception (don't ask me where I got it since my mother certainly never instilled it in me) that I could only give my virginity to a boy. That if I wasn't careful I might deflower myself and somehow people would know. This led me to be really careful when I was playing with myself. I will let your imagination do the rest.
What else? Non Consent/Reluctance? Again the whole turned on so much that someone can't really control themselves angle. Which leads to the whole mind control thing, which although is intriguing not really explored by me.
Which leads me to here. Why now? Why tell my stories here? I guess I was encouraged. Encouraged by a beautiful woman, who loves me for who I am. Who encouraged me to discuss these things with my sister (a sister who has given me her blessing). A woman who loves being my sexual fantasy as much as I love being hers.
Enough! This is probably too long of a backstory, hopefully you stuck it out this long for the promise of hot sex.
Hopefully I can deliver!
Love Tiff XOXO
I woke the next morning to birds chirping outside my window. There is nothing finer than a fine late spring morning with no school or work to be done and the promise of the day still unfulfilled.
If this was a Disney cartoon I would get up looking like I had just got out of a beauty salon, hair and makeup perfect. I would then rush to the window and throw it open and greet the day with a song in my voice and a gleam in my eye. Birds would fly in and help me to get dressed signing a merry tune!
The reality? My hair was a mess, sticking straight out in certain areas. I had dried pussy juice on my chin. Eyes barely open I stumbled out of bed. The sun coming in was way too bright. The birds outside were chirping way too loudly and if I opened the window to let them in they would just shit everywhere!
Stupid birds! They woke me from a wonderful dream. Then I stopped. It was the taste of pussy on my lips that let me know that yesterday was no dream.
I ate my sister's pussy! She ate mine! The thought was pretty surreal. Stumbling into the bathroom, I looked into Sarah's room. It was empty. Looking into the mirror I may have understated how badly I looked. Fuck it, I was going to breakfast. I did wash my face and throw on a shirt though.
My mother was at the table, drinking coffee and going over her listings. I suppose this is where I take the opportunity to describe my mother.
Her hair is auburn and she wears it longer than me. Her skin paler and her eyes blue. She's a beautiful woman really, not as thin as she used to be but still shapely. Ok guys, she's a MILF. There I said it.
She works as a realtor, which seems to me, to be a MILF requirement of some kind. I think there is a law that says if a woman is going to be over 30 and work as realtor, office manager, lawyer or english teacher then she absolutely must be a MILF.
She had my sister while still in High School and me and my brother relatively soon after. One of the reasons I think her and Dad divorced was that they really never had a chance to be young and in love.
She has also always been very open and honest with us. About everything...and I do mean everything. Which has led to some embarrassing conversations and situations in the past!
"Morning sweetie. How did you sleep?" She asked.
"Good." I said.
Surprisingly I meant it.
"Good, you want me to make you some breakfast?"
"No. I will just have cereal" I said helping myself.
She sat there going over her listings and for some reason I was wary.
About half way through my bowl of cereal, she dropped it on me.
"Tiff honey? We need to talk." She said taking off her reading glasses.
Uh oh!
My mind raced. Does she know what happened last night? How? And where was Sarah?
"Listen honey, I know you have needs...and its natural to explore." Shit she knew! "But if your going to do that, then you need to make sure you shut your door. What if I had brought a friend home?"
Wait! What?
"When I got home your room reeked of pussy so bad. I had to open a window!"
"Uhhh..." I was completely off balance.
"Masturbation is completely normal, healthy even. As you know, I do it, Sarah does it and I can guarantee Brian does it. What I'm saying is that I guess it's past time we had this talk. I apologize for putting it off for so long. I guess it just didn't occur to me...with the fact that you..." She stopped suddenly.
My face reddened. Was this some crazy belated birds and the bees talk? She was going to say lesbian. Does she mean to say we didn't have this talk because lesbians can't get pregnant? Well I got news for you mom! I opened my mouth angrily to say all this...
"That didn't come out right." She said. "What I'm trying to say is...I think it's time we got you a vibrator!"
Wait what?!
"I got your sister one when she was 18. In fact I'm pretty sure she was using it last night as well! Her door at least was shut though!"
"Mom!" I said warningly.
"Relax, hon. Finish your breakfast and get cleaned up. Then we will go get you a nice vibrator." She went back to her listings.
How embarrassing.
We went to Carli's. My mother chatting the whole way like she was dropping me off at summer camp
Carli's is one of those stores where you can find anything and everything you need or didn't need but thought you needed. You could buy a novelty t-shirt or an electric spatula. How about fake dog poop? They got it. Oversize novelty dice? A dozen different colors. Lava lamps? Yep.
Discreetly located between the plastic ice cubes containing flys (Great for parties!) and the oversize pajamas for two (Now you can get even closer to your partner) was located a small section brilliantly advertised as Personal Home Therapeutic Muscle Massagers.
Why the manufacturers of such devices would think that you would need a Home Muscle Massager in the shape of a penis was certainly a mystery to me, but there it was.
I had a sudden vision of a bunch runners at a starting line. Warming up, stretching. At the end of the line were a bunch of athletic trainers each one with a vibrator in their hand.
My mother pressed 50 dollars into my hand and said she was going across the mall to get a new bra, thankfully leaving me alone to contemplate exactly which muscle massager would be perfect for my sore muscles.
Making sure that absolutely nobody I knew was in the store...or same zip code preferably, I perused the selection. The different makes and models was actually quite impressive I thought, but I was looking for one like my sister's. Now we can be twinsies. Yay!
Finally I found a multipack of 3 different sizes and shapes, that had one resembling the one I saw Sarah using. Evidently this massager pack was geared to people who ran decathlons.
Taking my purchase to the counter, the girl behind the register looked at me and smirked.
"I run marathons." I said.
"Yeah right!" She laughed.
"What? I do!"
"Uh huh! I ran one myself last night!" She laughed putting my purchases in a discreet see though bag so that anybody looking close enough could tell exactly what was inside.
Grrrrrr! I stomped out looking for my mother.
I crossed over the mall into another store where my mother was presently looking at a bin full of panties.
"Hey honey do you need any panties?" She said it loud enough so that the people in the food court could be appraised of the fact that Tiffany Peterson may be in need of underwear. "They are 3 for $30."
"Mom! Ok, geez."
She stared at the bag in my hand for a moment. Then gave me a thumbs up before heading over to look at some bras.
I went over to one of the many bins of panties and started going through it but didn't really see what I was unconsciously sorting. I was staring at my mother. Thinking back to our earlier conversation.
If there was topic or situation that could embarrass or discomfort my mother. I hadn't seen it yet. That was one of the things about my family. I always thought we were just one step removed from a bunch of hippy nudists. Not that any of us paraded around the house nude or even in our underwear, but we certainly were taught that there was no shame in our bodies. No subject was really Taboo, which is why I was thrown by the possibility of a birds and the bees talk earlier. There just never seemed to be a need, since that and every other topic, including my sexuality had always been openly discussed. In fact in some cases to openly discussed. There seemed to be too much acceptance, never any drama. Those of you who have had to live with nothing but drama...may not seem to understand that the opposite could be just as nerve wracking. There were times that I felt that I was living in one of those 60's era sitcoms. No matter what happened, what trouble arose or what issues transformed from molehills into mountains - acceptance was always the answer. All we had to do was discuss it and acknowledge it...hey we learned a life lesson, that's great, pass the potatoes and everything would be honky dory!
