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I am a slut! But I am a very selective slut. If you think I am going to spread my legs for you just because you have come on to me, you will likely be disappointed. I guess I came to ‘sluttiness’ early and naturally. In my early teens, when I felt the first stirrings of sexuality, I found my mother’s store of sex toys hidden in a bedroom drawer, which was usually locked. She was out and I was prowling through her room when I came upon the unlocked drawer. I couldn’t then imagine the purpose of the various items, although now I well know what each was and have my own store of similar items. A much larger and more varied store than Mom’s. I was an early developing young woman. By the time I was fourteen, I was the tallest girl in my class and had sprouted an impressive pair of breasts. I was thrilled with them, as were the boys in school. The girls were jealous. At the same time, I became acutely aware of the difference between boys and men. It was men who attracted me, and caused my pussy to moisten and tingle. Specifically, my stepfather principally attracted me, although there were certainly others – my doctor, my teacher, almanbahis a neighbor. It was my stepfather, however, who first noted my emerging sexuality intuited and who, out of the kindness of his heart, undertook to introduce me to the pleasures in which I now find such delight. Along with my maturing body, I began to develop that feminine sixth sense which alerts one to a masculine interest in one. A tone of voice, a prolonged glance, a lingering touch. I don’t now remember what alerted me to Dad’s piqued interest. I suppose between my pride in my developing body, and his increased attentiveness and generosity, my intuition was that one might have been the genesis of the other. This all came to a head shortly after my sixteenth birthday. Mom was called away on business. By this time I had figured out the purpose of Mom’s cache of toys and had begun to accumulate toys of my own and to experiment with them. I masturbated regularly. That is to say when I woke up in the morning, in the afternoon after school, and in the evening when I retired. Perhaps, somehow, Dad had become aware of this propensity. One evening while Mom almanbahis yeni giriş was gone, Dad fixed a particularly nice dinner and presented it more elegantly than usual. It was ordinary for me to have a bit of wine with dinner, usually cut with an equal part of water. On this evening, Dad omitted the water and refilled my glass when it was emptied. I had a sense of being particularly special, and of this being a particularly special occasion, although the only thing out of the ordinary was that Mom was away and not expected home for several days. It was just the two of us. I was swelled up with pride and wine. As I have mentioned, my stepfather was the man who principally attracted me. I masturbated to my mental image of him between my legs. The handle of my hairbrush frequently stood in for his imagined cock. It was his name which I whispered as I urged myself toward orgasm. And it was he who was now plying me with wine. I had chosen my clothing for this special dinner with care. Under my chiffon blouse, I wore a silk chemise, sans bra. I wore a short silk skirt without any underwear. And I was barefoot. almanbahis giriş I was conscious of my erect nipples throughout dinner and, as we sat over dessert, I let my bare foot rest upon Dad’s. It seemed to me as though I was sitting in a pool of moisture which had dripped from my aroused cunt. Dad did nothing to acknowledge my bare foot resting on his, but he did not move it away, either. Finally, he excused himself and began to clear the table. Tearing his attention away from my breasts, he suggested I get ready for bed while he straightened out the kitchen. He promised he would be right up, which I took to be weighted with innuendo. I dawdled over my toilette as I heard the clatter from the kitchen diminish. Dad appeared at my door and gazed appreciatively at my sleeping costume and what it contained. “Before you go to bed, would you like a massage?” he asked. “Why don’t you go in and get on my bed while I get ready, and then I will give you one.” I followed him to the master suite and I climbed into the bed and surveyed it in a proprietorial manner. As I listened to Dad brush his teeth, I removed my top and lay face down in the middle of the bed, awaiting my massage. In retrospect, it is impossible to state who seduced whom. It was clearly a raging mutual attraction and desire. As the massage progressed, I became acutely aware of the erection Dad had spouted.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32