1. My aunt -- my babysitter


    Date: 11/26/2015, Categories: Fantasy, Consensual Sex, First Time, Incest, Teen, Teen Female/Boy, Young, Author: Uncle Thomas, Rating: 90.1, Source: sexstories.com

    “Ninety-nine out of ninety-nine times, if a woman hits you, you deserved it.” Well, I was on my absolute best behavior. I helped Cara with my brothers, my half-brothers, really. They're six and seven years old, so it wasn't like we fought anyway. But I even did the dishes without being asked. After they were in bed, Cara said, “Thank you.” I started to talk about Carl, about what he'd said, but then I spilled the beans about what my mom had said, too, about how I could be in charge of myself if I starting acting like I could handle it. “Come on, Jim,” she said, “you can, I can tell.” I had my doubts, but I didn't argue with her, of course. Instead, I said, “Well, I'm trying.” “You did the dishes, and you read to Carl Jr and Teddy.” “I like reading to them. It reminded me of when my father used to read to me.” She looked sad, “He used to read to me, too, when I was little.” He was in Canada, working on an oil rig. So we were talking about him, my real father, when we sort of ran out of steam. “Do you have a girlfriend?” “No,” I admitted and felt my face get warm. “You will, don't worry.” “I know.” But I always felt stupid when I talked to girls. “You can ask me, you know.” “Ask you what?” “If I have a boyfriend, silly.” “Do you?” “No. Guys don't like me, not guys my age.” “What do you mean?” “Like I'll be at the mall or at school. A guy will look at me, stare at me, but then they'll come over and talk to Alice, instead.” Alice was cute, but if Cara was New York Yankees hot, ...
    but Alice was like AA league cute. “That's crazy,” I said. “What do you mean? Don't tell me that I'm cute. Everybody says that, but I see how guys treat me, well, guys my age. And then older guys bother me, Carl's age, even older.” I didn't understand it. Instead, I said, “Guys like Alice more than you?” I just didn't believe it. “I went on a date with an older guy. He was funny, or he made me laugh, anyway.” “An older guy?” I was picturing someone Carl's age, an old guy, forty years old, maybe, a guy with son about Cara's age, like Carl's son from his first marriage. She started to cry. “He tried to kiss me, tried to grab my boobs.” She squeezed my hand when I leaned over and took hers. “He tore at my blouse and ripped three of the buttons off it.” I didn't know what to say, so I said, “I'm so sorry.” “He got his hand in my bra before I scratched his face.” “You scratched his face!” I laughed, while she giggled and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. I grabbed some tissues from under the coffee table. I didn't even have to let her hand go. “I saw him, about a week later. He had these two claw marks on his cheek!” She was laughing triumphantly. “You did it?” “Damn straight,” she said and grinned. “Way to go, girl!” I said and laughed too. “He told me that he only wanted to see my boobs.” “He's a liar.” “I know, but I probably would've shown him, if he'd asked nicely, but just not on the first date.” “Just to show him?” “I'm not shy about my boobs, not any more, anyway. ...
«1234...6»