I put my hand on his shaft and started rubbing it for him while I sat beside him. I guess I was hoping that he might feel good and he would be satisfied with a hand job, so I wouldn’t have to suck it. He let me play with it for so long that I actually thought I was going to get out of having to suck his peter. It always looked so gross. His juice made me sick. It tasted awful and it took forever to get rid of it afterwards. I could taste it for hours after we got finished. Even the puke didn’t get rid of the taste.
Suddenly he took my hand off of it, and we just drove around with me sitting next to him. After a few minutes, he told me to get started and I had better not throw up this time. I hated sucking his dick and I didn’t know how I was supposed to keep from throwing up as I threw up every time I did it. I knew that I needed to get started before he got mad at me.
Slowly I got on my hands and knees in the seat and put my head in his lap. I slid his thing into my mouth and sucked. He was already pretty wet down there from when I had played with it and he had gotten soft so that some of his juice oozed out down his shaft into his pants. His shaft was all slimy and slick. I hated the way his wetness felt on my lips.
I could feel the vomit rising up from my stomach. I sucked and sucked and sucked and sucked some more for what seemed like forever. David laid his hand on the back of my head and stroked my hair while he told me how he wanted me to suck. It was suck harder, suck lighter. Stick it all the way into your mouth. I didn’t understand how I was going to put it in any farther than it was. I felt like it was already hitting the back of my throat.
He told me again to stick it all the way in. He wanted my lips to touch his pubic hair. Heck, I’m three inches short of that. I already had about three inches of pecker in my mouth and that was all I could get in there. I pulled back to tell him that it was already at the back of my mouth and wasn’t going any farther without going out the back of my head. He told me to try swallowing it while I pushed my mouth forward.
He said that should get it in. I put his dick in my mouth again and when it hit the back of my mouth, I started swallowing. The next thing I knew, my lips were pressed against his pubic hair and the top of his nut sack. I almost gagged at first and had to back off a little, but after finding the right angle to tilt my neck, I was able to breathe through one side of my nose and kind of around his dick at the same time. I was never able to breathe out of both sides of my nose at the same time.
I had been sucking him this way for only a minute or two when he told me he was getting ready to come. I pulled back so the tip of it was in my mouth and he started shooting off. I had never had him shoot off this much or this long before. He hadn’t finished shooting off when I lost it and knew I was going to throw up big time.
I pulled away from him in time to prevent throwing up in his pants, but not in time to avoid hitting the seat or to keep him from squirting the rest of it all over his pants. I was throwing up vehemently. It was one hell of a mess. David got real angry. He told me he was sick and tired of my chicken shit faggot little ass getting sick every time he gave me a little of his love juice.
He calls that shit love juice. That really hit home when he called me a faggot. So he thinks I am too. I really must be a faggot. I died a little more then. I’ll never be worth a shit and I deserve whatever David makes me do. He pulled into a dirt road and made me get in the back seat. He got out of the car and removed his belt. Then he got back there with me and pulled down my pants. David bent me across his lap and wore my ass out with that belt. I started crying. I had welts across my backsides when he got through. Then he told me to go up front and lick the vomit and cum off of the seat.
I am wondering how I am going to be able to lick that stuff off of the seat. It looks so gross and it smells just awful. It also looks like there is a ton of it. I did as I was told and started licking on the puke. When I tried to swallow the first lap of it, I threw up again. David yelled at me calling me a chicken shit little bastard. He put me in the back seat again and beat me twice as long as he did the first time.
This time I lapped up all of the vomit, all of the cum, and all of the tears from the seat. It was very difficult to eat that stuff without throwing up again. The more I ate, the more it seemed like there was. I couldn’t throw up again, no matter how sick it made me, because I knew he would make me eat it too. David took me riding again when I had finished cleaning the seat. When he shot off this time I swallowed it all. I still felt like throwing up, but I was afraid he’d beat me to death if I did. This time I had to try to swallow away his juice with it tasting like 100% cum. It was all sex and had no vomit twang to it at all. I didn’t know that I would prefer the vomit taste to the taste of cum, but I surely do.
We went riding quite frequently after that. At first he would tell my Mom he was going to take me for a ride and later he decided I would meet him down the road so that no one would start wondering why he was spending so much time with me. Sucking David's dick was still gross and very difficult to do, but I had been cured of throwing up. At first it was only a few times a week, but got to be where I felt like I was always sucking him. We started doing it in Granny's house and we visited the barn several times a week, depending on what access he had to me.
I remember being at Southside Plaza. Mom and Dad were shopping in Sears and I was hanging out in front of the stores. I was around 12 at the time. It was only about 530 PM, but being late fall, it was already dark. This guy kept walking by where I was. It was obvious that he was checking me out. He would walk by slowly and glare at me as he went by. He was also checking to see if anybody was keeping tabs on me.
Evidently he figured out that I was alone for the time being and stopped next to me. He started talking to me. He would ask me stuff like where my parents were and what I was up to. Then he started grilling me on what little boys my age knew about sex. He told me he was looking for someone who would give him head. He said there was nothing like a good blow job.
I told him that I was pretty partial to them myself. The red flag should have popped up to let me know what was building up, but the guy had a way of talking about this stuff that made me feel relaxed. I didn't feel threatened by him at all. After a while, he came right out and asked me if I had ever wondered what it would feel like to suck a dick.
I couldn't tell him that I already know what it is like to suck. I asked him what he would think about me if I had given it some thought. He figured it was a natural feeling for a young boy to be curious about such things and he would be more than willing to let me find out on his. I told him no thanks. I don't want to know what it feels like.
He asked me that if I had wanted to find out, would I find it repulsive to do it to him. Here's where he tripped me up. Not thinking through what I was saying, I told him that it would all depend on what it looks like. He wanted to know what I meant. I told him that it meant that it would depend on whether or not I liked what I saw. Then the guy suggested that I could go out to the van with him and take a look. He assured me that I didn't have to do anything, but it certainly wouldn't hurt me to take a look and tell him what I think.
Mom and Dad had just started shopping and would be a good 2 or 3 hours so I had time to kill. It never occurred to me that the guy could have abducted and killed me when he got me in that van. Hell, he was plenty big enough and looked quite strong. I guess the way he talked made me feel I could trust him. I told the guy that I guess it wouldn't hurt me to go out to the van and see if it looked ok. I followed him across the parking lot to his van and we went inside. He told me to close my eyes while he took off his clothes. He wanted me to see everything all at once before I had a chance to form an opinion.
I closed my eyes and in a few minutes he told me it was ok to look. When I opened my eyes, he was shaved clean. There was no hair around his dick and it was long and slender. It was sticking straight out at me and looked smooth and soft. I was ashamed of myself. I was looking at a guy's dick. Not so much that I was looking at it as I have seen my share of them, but I had thoughts going through my mind that it was a beautiful penis. It was a gorgeous specimen. I liked its luscious shape.
The way it seemed to beckon at me, I could almost feel it sliding ever so gently up my backsides as he held me close. I began to wonder what it would be like to hold his sack in my hands. Slowly caressing those sweet looking nuts between my fingers as he filled my eager mouth up with his love juice. I felt queer. I was a faggot. None the less, I looked at the man's dick for several more minutes.
My hand found its way to the end of his shaft. God it felt so good in my hand. I reached over to look under his balls. They felt pretty good to the touch as well. I knew that if he made me suck it, I wouldn't really mind it too bad, but then suddenly the feeling of being such a faggot overwhelmed me. I had decided that I didn't want to do it. I just couldn't do it. At least not right now anyway. I turned it loose.
The guy asked me what I thought. Could I suck it if I were curious about trying one? I told him that I don't suck, but if I ever decided to do it, I wouldn't have any qualms about doing his, but I am simply not going to suck it for him. This guy was smooth. He didn't act disappointed or upset or anything like that. He smiled, "You did say you were kinda partial to getting a blow job yourself. Why don't I shut my eyes while you undress and I'll tell you if I could suck yours."
He shut his eyes. This is like so weird. I am in a van with a naked man. A guy I've never seen before. I have told him that I don't suck and here he is standing there with his eyes shut waiting for me to undress so he can tell me if he could suck my dick. I am curious now as to whether or not he would like my dick.
I took off my clothes and told him he could open his eyes. He looked at me for a while and reached out to lift my balls. He held them gently in the palm of his hand, caressing them between his fingers. Before I could decide what to do, my dick got hard. He let me know he would really enjoy sucking a dick like mine. Then I hear myself tell him to go ahead if he wants to.
He gestured for me to sit in one of the seats next to the wall of the van. I sat down and spread my legs. The guy got on his knees between my legs like he was getting ready to do it. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed me on my lips. I didn't know what else to do, so I kissed him back. He was a good kisser and his lips felt wonderful on mine.
As I have said before, I really enjoy kissing. We kissed for a good while and the next thing I knew I was wadding off in his mouth. That was wonderful too. When I got finished, he kept right on sucking. He knew what he was doing. I got excited again almost right away. When I came the second time, he sucked it until I went soft. Then he rested his arms on my legs with his hands behind my hips.
He kissed me some more. I felt so warm and cuddly with him holding me like that. Then he told me, "See, there is nothing bad about doing a favor for someone you like. How about doing a favor for me?" I didn't know what to do. I didn't like sucking dicks. Well, most dicks anyway. The guy had just finished sucking me off and he had asked me so sweetly to do his. After sitting there like a mute for five minutes, I realized that the guy had just stood there saying nothing.
He was obviously giving me time to think it over. I knew then that if I refused, he wasn't going to force me to do it. That in itself gave me a change of heart. I would return the favor. After all, it certainly wasn't the first dick I had done and most likely wouldn't be the last. I stood up and told him to go ahead and take a seat. When my lips wrapped around his meat, I was surprised. I liked sucking him. I sucked him until he shot off twice and went soft. He went soft for about 10 minutes after the first time too.
We kissed again for a little while and he asked me if I felt up to doing it again. I told him I would like to, but it was time to check in so the folks wouldn't start worrying. He begged me to let him have one more go at it. I sat back down in the seat. His fingers slowly worked themselves into my hinny hole as he wrapped his wet juicy lips around my hard shaft. I melted in his hands. He knew then that it was a done deal. The next thing I knew, the dude had me pinned across the seat. Throwing his meat wildly up my ass. The crazy part was I was loving every minute of it.
When he finished lubing my backsides, I got dressed and left after kissing him good bye. As soon as I stepped out of the van, the bad feelings hit me. I felt queer again. As I said, he tasted pretty good, so I didn't feel the urge to throw up or anything like that. The problem was I not only felt like a faggot, but here I was standing in the parking lot with cum smell all over me. Hoping against hope that if I break wind, I won't wet up my pants. The bathroom seemed a million miles away and I really needed for it to be right here. What really fucked with my mind was I hadn’t even found out what the guy’s name was. I guess it was a John Doe fuck.
Being in ecstasy and feeling so depressed at the same time. I wished I had enough balls to kill myself. Alas, I was just too fucking much of a chicken shit to be able to end the misery. I hope Mom won't be able to smell it on me. At least he hadn't wanted me to do him in the ass. If he had, I probably would have done that too. I fantasized about doing it with the guy for the next several hours as I could still taste his juice in my mouth.
It was wonderful. I am so fucked up. I wondered how I could be so stupid as to get in this fix to end up doing it. I had those feelings that something was wrong with me for guys to be able to tell that I will do it in the first place. I have to be queer. I wanted to die and yet I was in bliss at the same time. Still, it was hard to deal with, being a young boy whose sexual experience was supposed to be limited to a daily date with the toilet bowl.
I was pretty much having sex all the time with a lot of different people. Some women. Some little girls. More little boys. Mostly grown men. Yes I must be queer. One of the things that worry the hell out of me is the fact that I am finding more and more penises that turn me on. Guys and boys that I find that I have to have. The part that scared me the most was I was afraid it was only a matter of time before my Dad could tell. Hell it seemed like all the other guys had no problem telling.
Paul's Mom was always a mystery to me. She kisses me, beats me off, plays with me, sucks my nipples, and even tongues me in my ass on occasion. She became especially fond of sucking my balls. That was always pretty cool. I got to shoot off on my belly as she sucked sweetly on my nut sack. She lapped it up hungrily after I finished. It felt so good. She lets me eat her, suck her tits, fuck her once in a while, although not very often. I even got to tongue her asshole and shoot off in it.
She even wanted me to fuck her between the tits. That didn't work out so well. The problem was her tits were too small to push them together enough to wrap them around my tiny dick. Or perhaps my dick was too small to fill the gap between her tits. I didn't consider her tits to be small. I loved them just the way they were. She let me rub it on them every once in a while anyway, even though she didn't get quite the thrill out of it she had hoped for.
I can rub my hands all over her and finger fuck her and yet she still won't suck me off. I know she likes the taste of my semen as she readily laps it up after jerking me off onto my belly, but she won't put my dick in her mouth. When I finally got up enough nerve to ask her to do it for me, she said she was uncomfortable about having a dick in her mouth and couldn't bring herself to do it.
Paul’s Mom apologized for not being able to bring herself to do it for me even though she has really wanted to try it. Then she explained the reason for it. Her Daddy used to hold her down and do it in her mouth every night. It was very traumatic and she still has nightmares about it. She practically begged me not to ask her to do it again. I used to think it was strange until she finally was able to tell me why. Now I understand and it isn't strange at all. I knew exactly how she felt. I never asked her again. I will take what I can get.
Being with her is still a lot of fun and she always makes me feel extra special. Paul knows that I am doing it with her. The following day, Paul's Mom went down between my legs. I thought she was getting ready to blow me. Instead, she took my balls in her mouth gently sucking me to orgasm. It felt so good. I enjoyed watching her lap it up off of my abdomen. She must have liked my nuts. Almost every other time we were alone after that, she would do them for me.
Paul's Mom would rub me through my underpants the same as Sherry does. Sometimes I would be shooting off into my panties as everyone returned into the room. I know that sounds sissified calling boy’s under pants panties. I have done so several times through out the stories. Simple fact is that the bikini under wear we wore was nothing if not panties. It was pretty wild watching Paul's Mom pretend she had been watching the TV as she sat next to me on the couch. I would be trying to not look like I am coming and everyone else would be enjoying watching the growing wet spot between my legs.
I remember one time Sherry had been playing with my thing on the couch. She had quickly removed her hand from my underpants just as her Mom came in the room. My pee hole was stuck up against my underpants. I had started shooting off just as Sherry turned it loose. My juice shot through the fabric out onto one of my legs. If Sherry's Mom noticed it, she made no sign of it. Sherry looked at me in shock and suddenly realized that she didn't have to worry about my wet spots as obviously her Mom wasn't worried about them.
One day, out of the clear blue, Sherry asked me if I was doing something with her Mom. When I hesitated, she told me that it was ok if I was as she knew that her Mom had feelings too. Sherry could certainly understand why her Mom wanted me as she was gaga over me herself. She noted it didn't exactly take a professor to figure out that her Mom was sweet on me. It was then that Sherry informed me that she had noticed my load soaking through my under pants on those days her Mom had been sitting beside me.
Sherry acknowledged that we were close enough that we didn't need to keep secrets from one another. It made me feel good hearing her say she was gaga over me. I finally told her that her Mom and I were doing it. That was when Sherry confessed that she had walked in on us while we were kissing and she had seen her Mom's hand in my under wear.
Sherry had quietly backed on out of the room to let us finish. She knew I was doing her Mom, but she wanted to hear me say it. Then Sherry blew me away. She wanted to know if I had done anything with her Dad. I asked her what would prompt her to ask something like that. She calmly replied that it had to do with him going into Paul's room every night about 230 AM and spending over a half hour before going to bed.
I was about 6 months short of being 15 when this conversation took place. We were alone at the time as Paul was in the living room working on a school project. I didn't know what to tell her. I didn't want to lie to her and yet I didn't want her to know I was sucking her Dad either. She looked into my eyes with a demanding expression. “Kenny. Answer my question and don‘t tell me any bullshit lie.” I had said before that she never let on that she was doing her Dad even though I knew that she was and I had refrained from asking her if she was. I finally gave in. “Okay, Sherry. I will answer your question, if you will answer one of mine.”
To my surprise, she remained quiet for a while and finally whimpered, "OK, it's a deal. You don't have to ask the question, because I already know what it is. My Daddy has sex with me almost every day. We have been doing it since I was 8 years old. I do it all with him. Please don't ask me the details. It hurts to talk about it. He started doing Paul about the same time although I don't know what he does with him. I never had the nerve to ask Paul and I sure as hell wasn't going to ask Daddy.”
I knew she was mistaken about when Paul started doing his Dad. I had asked Paul how he got started doing his Dad. He told me he had no idea. As far back as he could remember he had always done it for him. Of course I saw no useful purpose in telling Sherry this. She had enough to deal with as it was.
“I won’t pry. You don’t have to tell me any of the details about you and your Dad. I just want you to know that if you ever need to get it off your chest, that I am a good listener. You already know I’d never tell anybody. Basically, what I am saying is that I am here for you whenever you need me. Paul and I both do your Dad. We do him several times a day, every time I come down.“
Sherry looked down as if she was about to cry. “Kenny. Give me some time. I’ll think about discussing what I do with my Dad if you will tell me all about what Paul and you are doing with Dad.” I told her all the details and she listened intently. Sherry made me promise that Paul nor her Dad would ever find out about this conversation.
I had to ask her one more question. “Are you doing it with your Mom?” "Yes, I am," was her reply. I let it go at that. She was visibly shaken. Telling someone about it had released a lot of powerful emotions. She was crying uncontrollably. I held her in my arms and she rested her head on my chest. I wanted to fuck her, but now was not the time. I just held her close until she regained her composure.
I understood her problem. She knew that both her parents were sick and she hated what they did to her and at the same time she loved it as well. I knew those feelings very well. I had been through those same type of feelings many times, only not with my parents. They were still her parents and she loved them dearly. If she told, they would go to jail and then Paul and her might be separated. Neither one of those possibilities were acceptable. If she kept quiet, nothing would change and she would have to keep on doing it all. Life really is a bitch ain't it?
I had suspected for a long time that they all knew everyone was doing something with most of the rest of them, but no one wanted to bring it out as none of them wanted any of the rest of them to know what they were doing. No one really wanted any of it to stop. They could not afford to have the family broken up, nor did they want to have the situation get out of hand with the whole family doing it in front of each other.
They probably found it more exciting when they did it with the possibility of being caught by the others. Of course the chances of actually being caught by one of the others is pretty slim, as everyone seems to try to catch each other doing it with the others, yet they all make sure that it isn't an obvious, "I got you" kind of thing. That was why enough noise was seemingly made before reentering the room to allow hands to be in less strategic positions before anyone showed up in the room.
I am not sure how much each of them suspected who was doing what with who, but they all seemed to have an idea that all of them were at the very least touching someone somewhere that they shouldn't be touching. Now Sherry thinks her and I are really close and are no longer holding back any secrets. We are close. I love her to death, so much so that I am not going to let her know what her little brother went through over the last 5 and a half years. I couldn't talk about it anyway.
Some number of months went by. I hadn't long ago finished making love to Paul and Sherry. Paul was taking a bath. I would normally be in there with him, but we felt it better to take turns keeping Sherry company. That way she would still be in Paul's room with us when we finished. We planned on taking turns kissing her for awhile. Sherry was eagerly anticipating that as well. We didn't always have to have full blown sex with her, although she preferred we did.
Sometimes we liked to just hold her. Don't get me wrong, Sherry enjoyed being held close the way we did it, but that was only during those times when it would have been a bad time for all of us to be naked together. Paul and I got a lot of time alone with Sherry, but it wasn't always safe time. Her Mom did keep a little bit of an eye on us at times. Sarah still came down frequently. The good part about that was Paul's Mom didn't feel it necessary to keep an eye on us when Sarah was with us.
I guess she thought that made everything safe. When I said Paul's Mom kept an eye on us, it was usually when we weren't going to do anything. Basically when we had the door open. I guess she really knew we were doing it as she never interrupted us when we had the door shut. I always thought that was weird, but left it alone. I would have my bath when Paul finished.
One day, Sherry confided, “I really need to talk to you about my parents if you can handle listening?” I watched her facial features for several minutes before replying. “I am here for you anytime you need me. You are the most special girl in the world to me. You can tell me anything.” Sherry started crying again and leaned her head on my shoulder as she hugged me tight.
“I did it all with my Mom way before I started doing it with my Dad.” Tears started freely flowing from her eyes as she related how it all started. "My Mom was taking a bath and had me in the tub with her. I was around 6 at the time. She noticed me staring at her breasts and asked me what I was looking at. I asked her if mine were going to get big like hers. She assured me that they would. I had wanted to know what it was like to have big breasts. ( Her Mom's breasts weren't much bigger than Sherry's were now, but they probably looked pretty big to a 6 year old.) Mom put my hands on her boobs telling me I could touch them to see what they feel like.“
“I felt them for a while and Mom began to tell me different ways she wanted me to touch her. Eventually she convinced me to suck them. I remember her heart beating real fast. I could feel it beating with my lips. She told me that I really make Mamma feel good. Then she asked me if I liked making her feel good. Of course I always wanted Mom to feel good, so I told her yes."
"Mom asked me if I would like to make her feel really good. Again I told her yes. She laid back against the spigot and put her feet on both sides of the tub showing me her thing. She urged me to lick her there. I didn't know any better and was too young to be embarrassed about it. The part I have the most trouble with and I'll kill you if you tell anybody, is that I found myself enjoying licking her there.”
“I was having fun eating my Mom's pussy. I felt so important when she came in my mouth. Now I find myself going to her for sex and I can't help it. It's like I have to have her." Sherry started bawling when she told me this. Sherry broke down and fell into my arms. I held her close until she was able to stop sobbing. I loved Sherry more than ever after she confided in me and we became much closer.
Sherry had barely regained her composure when Paul returned from his bath. I was still holding her close in my arms. I let Sherry go and went in for my bath. I hadn't been in the tub more than 5 minutes when the door opened. It was Paul's Dad. He said Paul's Mom had gone to the store and he would like to have a quickie, if I wouldn't mind doing it for him.
I rose up on my knees next to the side of the tub. Paul's Dad stepped in close and I slid his meat into my mouth. I started sucking it for him. He asked me if I knew how to deep throat a peter. I told him to relax. I let him know I would take care of that for him. A few minutes later, Paul's Dad sent a load down my throat. He left the bathroom. I finished my bath. Paul and Sherry were sitting next to one another on the edge of the bed. Sherry got out a deck of cards. We cut high card for the kisser. Then we would cut high card for the kissee.
The kisser made all the moves, like sticking the tongue out and such. The kissee responded to all the things the kisser did, like slurping up any spit that was offered. Then we would do it all again. The way it worked was, sometimes you got to kiss all the time and sometimes you got to watch a lot. It all depended on how the cards fell. We had a great time kissing. I wasn't worried about Sherry tasting her Dad on my mouth, when she knew I had been alone with her Dad and hadn't been with Paul. I used to worry that she could tell, but it doesn't matter anymore, because now she knows I suck her Dad whenever he wants me to.
Over a period of months Sherry shared with me all the stuff she did with her Dad. He is a sick bastard. Like she said, he does it all to her. Aside from all the usual stuff, he likes to have them piss one another's mouth. He pisses in her butt and he likes to put things in her ass to watch her shit them back out. The really gross stuff like that only happens when they are alone in the house, because it is too messy to do it anywhere other than the bath tub.
He always fucks her on the floor, so her Mom won't hear the bed squeak. They usually eat each other in the bed so they will be comfortable. Sherry hates doing it with her Dad, but she still loves him dearly. I asked her how she managed not to get pregnant by her Dad. Sherry said she guessed it was the same way she kept from getting pregnant by her brother and me. Pure luck. Now Paul's, Dad was a mystery to me. I couldn't figure out why he didn't do any of that stuff to Paul and I. I damn sure ain't gonna ask him.
Sherry asked her Dad one time what would happen if she got pregnant. He told her if she ever gets pregnant, she can just concoct a story about getting raped by some guy and she could either get an abortion or he would raise the baby. Which ever way she decided to do it. She also had made up her mind that if her Dad ever got her pregnant, she was definitely going to abort it. There was no way in hell she was going to give birth to her own little brother or sister. Now it had gotten complicated. It could turn out Paul or myself were the father. She couldn't let them kill the baby then. She worried about getting pregnant some, but she couldn't quit doing it with Paul and me.
Sherry figured she would continue doing it with us all. Sherry made me promise to keep quiet about it when she confided to me that when she gets old enough and decides to have a baby, if she doesn't wind up pregnant before then, that she intends for it to be Paul's, but she wouldn't mind too much if it turned out to be mine. When she turns 18, she is going to get birth control pills. No doctor will give them to her now, but that's still a ways off.
Sherry knows that neither one of her parents were aware that the other was doing it with her. She openly admitted to being a lesbian, because she was infatuated with her Mom and didn't seem to have any over powering interest in boys until she did it with Paul and I. She also had no intention of doing it with any other male, because the other boys just don't do anything for her. Sherry sometimes was upset with herself because she did it with quite a few of her girl friends. She apologized for not introducing us to the others, but Sarah was the only one she could convince to try it with a guy. I know how torn apart Sherry feels. I feel that way myself.
Sherry described how she got started with her Dad. “I was around 8 years old. I went into the bathroom to take a bath. My bedroom and my parents bedroom both have doors opening into a shared bathroom. I usually undress in my room and go in in the nude. When I got inside, Dad was already in the room. He had his pants down around his ankles and his thing was in his hand. He was rubbing it and it was hard. I didn't know at the time that he was jerking himself off. I told him I was sorry, that I didn't know he was in there.”
“I turned around to leave, but Dad told me not to pay him any mind and to go ahead and take my bath. Dad had seen me naked quite a bit, so I didn't have a problem with him seeing me then. I was a little uncomfortable, because it was the first time I had seen him with anything other than his shirt off. I was stealing glances at it as I ran the bath water. I guess I was curious what one looked like. Dad just stood there over the toilet and continued playing with his thing. He was staring at me while he was doing it. I know now that he was using my nude body to beat off."
"When he started squirting it into the toilet, I told him I had never seen anyone pee like that before. He just smiled at me while he wiped the end of his thing off. My Dad told me it wasn't pee. I asked him what it was then. He told me that he normally wouldn't discuss anything like that with me, but since I had already seen him do it, maybe it was time to explain it to me. He told me all about sex and what was done and then he told me about masturbation and that sometimes a person needed to take care of it alone.”
“He was sorry he had done it in front of me, but he was too far along to stop at the time. I asked him how it felt and why he couldn't stop. I also wanted to know if I would feel like that one day too or did only guys do it. Dad told me that girls get the urge to do it too. He said it feels fantastic, but is a difficult feeling to describe. I would have to wait until I did it to know how it feels."
"I asked him when I would start getting the urge to do it and how I would be able to do it when I didn't have one. His reply was that even though mine was different, I definitely had one and if I didn't mind him saying so, it's was a very pretty one at that. When I got the urge to do it I would know when it was time. He said I was probably physically able to do it already and that if I promised not to tell my Mom he would show me how to do it when I decided the time was right or I could figure it out on my own if I preferred. I wanted him to teach me then. Dad thought I was too young for him to do it for me at the time, but let me know that if I felt like I was old enough and it wouldn't bother me, he would do it for me now."
"I was curious and didn't know any better, so I told him to do it for me now. He locked both doors and got naked. Then he got in the tub with me. He told me to sit in front of him and lean back against his chest and he would do it for me so I could see what to do. After he had rubbed it for awhile, I had to pee real bad and told him I had to get up to go. Dad told me to relax and enjoy. I probably didn't have to pee, and if I did, it wasn't going to hurt anything to pee in the tub.”
“He kept playing with my pussy and suddenly I told him I couldn't hold it any longer. When I let it loose, I didn't pee. I felt like my pussy was going to explode. I was glad I had gotten him to do it. When it was over, he sucked my nipples saying he wanted to get me ready to do it again. He sucked them until I got excited and then he guided my hand on my pussy until I got the hang of it. My Dad held me in his arms in the tub while I brought myself off. I felt so special when I was coming in my Dad's arms."
"He told me that he had been kind enough to do it for me and wanted to know if I would like to do to him what he was doing when I came in. I jerked him off while he told me what to do. He shot off right there in front of me in the tub. I thought it was pretty cool and I liked the way it felt in my hand. Then he talked me into letting him teach me how to kiss. I liked kissing Daddy. I still do. When I told you that I hated doing it with him, I meant the gross stuff.”
“The rest of it is fun. After we had kissed for a long time, he told me that it feels 10 times as good if someone uses their mouth on it. He wanted to know if I thought I could handle making him feel 10 times as good. I told him I guess so. Then he asked me if I thought I could swallow his juice, because it always felt special to have it sucked after it went soft. I told him I would give it a try. The first time I sucked it, it tasted like sex. I hated the taste and almost threw up. I managed to swallow it anyway. I told him that I liked sucking it, which I really did, but that I didn't like the way his juice tasted. I told him that I didn't want him to squirt it into my mouth anymore."
"He told me that that was just a first impression and he promised me that the next time I would like it. I promised to give it one more try the next day to see if I would like it then. Every time I got ready to suck him after the time in the tub, he would leave the room for a few minutes and come back in in the nude. When he shot off from then on, it tasted like candy.”
“It was fantastic. I would ask him to let me suck it whenever we were alone. I still do. I think it is pretty neat. I ask him to let me do it for him a lot. I really do enjoy sucking my Dad's meat. I always look forward to him coming into my room after he finishes with Paul. After I finished him, he dried me off and got me to lay in my bed while he sucked me. I was in seventh heaven. It gradually expanded into other things until it got like it is now.”
“If he would be content to just have oral sex, anal sex, and intercourse without sticking things all in me, everything would be fantastic. I can't stand it when he pees in me and shits in my mouth. Not too long after my Dad ate me, I convinced my Mom to eat me as well. She loves to do it for me almost as much as I do for her. I simply can't seem to get enough of her. I did her just before you got here.” I let Sherry know that I didn't care if she liked pussy. After all she didn't care that her brother and I liked a little dick. That made Sherry feel better, but she still cuddled up close to me as she continued to cry."
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