I really need to talk to someone and I'm hoping this is the right place. My name is Alessa and for some reason, since I turned eighteen, I've noticed my dad and older brothers have started to act...differently around me. Let me tell you about myself. About four years ago, my mother died unexpectedly, leaving my father and four older brothers and I alone on our ranch. Imagine my life, being fourteen, the baby of the family and being left the only girl in the house.
My father and brothers treasured and adored me, even spoiling me at times if I'm being honest. My dad never said no to me and my over-protective brothers ran off every boy I met at school. As much as I enjoyed my time with them, I was going through my own issues then as not only did I no longer have a female confidant, I was still in braces and my body was slow to develop and even by sixteen, my breasts were still so small I didn't even need a bra. I was teased mercilessly by my brothers who made a point of reminding me I was shaped like a toothpick.
I don't really know how it happened, maybe it was the prayers or the exercises I found online that I did every night but seemingly overnight my body began to finally blossom and by the time I was seventeen I looked much different, especially after my braces had been removed. At long last, my brothers stopped teasing me, but that is when things started to shift. I noticed my dad wouldn't let me sit in his lap anymore and my brothers would shift uncomfortably if I tried it with them. Long gone were the days I could sit in one of their laps and they'd brush or play with my hair as we watched television. I started to worry maybe I had gotten heavier and ended up giving up my favorite pastime.
Over time, our relationship became quite strained, to the point that their usual laughter and jovial comradery would cease completely when I walked into a room. One such morning, I had gotten up early, showered and put on the white sundress my dad just bought me. It was very simple with spaghetti straps, with matching strappy sandals. I brushed out my long blonde hair and bounded down the stairs towards the ruckus coming from the kitchen.
"What is going on in here?" I asked, laughing, with my hands on my hips. My father and brothers turned to face me, their faces visibly uncomfortable. My father cleared his throat and strolled out of the kitchen, my brothers fast on his heels. I started to think maybe they were planning something for my upcoming birthday. With that in mind, I decided to not give them a hard time just yet because I was honestly starting to lose my patience.
Fast forward to my eighteenth birthday, we were all barely on speaking terms. I'd noticed my brothers having minor skirmishes occasionally and my father's tone had become gruff and he was often short with me, telling me my shorts were too tight or my tank tops were too short before storming back outside. Instead of scooping me up into one of their usual bear hugs, I barely received a handshake and disheartened, I decided to go to bed early that night.
Sighing, I made my way upstairs to my bedroom and tossed my dress over my head, unhooked my bra and tossed them into my hamper and put on one of my comfy white tank tops and my favorite little red and white handkerchief-print shorts. I crawled into bed and pulled the blankets up to my chin and drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, I hit snooze on my alarm, pushed the blankets away, stretched and threw my arm over my face and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to go back to sleep. I heard footsteps down the hallway as my father and brothers had already started to wake up and make their way downstairs. I didn't even want to join them as their behavior was starting to hurt. At some point, I'd fallen asleep and started to have a particularly naughty dream as the unknown man in it had started to brush his fingertips across my nipples as I lay stretched out across my bed. I was dressed similarly in my dream that I had been that day and moaned softly as I felt my nipples stretch painfully against my tank top. Even in my dream, it felt as though maybe my father was right, maybe my tank top was too tight. I moaned softly and arched my back, relishing the delicious waves that washed over me, presenting my breasts to this man I couldn't quite see. Boldly, the man slipped his hand through the top and I felt his hand tighten around one of my breasts, squeezing gently as he made his way to my nipple. He rolled it between his fingers and then made his way to my other breast.
I couldn't help it, I remember spreading my legs open and sliding my hand down between them. I was surprised to find myself wet there. Although a new sensation, it was one that I enjoyed. Suddenly, the man squeezed harder and I heard something fall causing my eyes to spring open.
