NotReallyAshamed, Author at NSFW story

My older sister made me do stuff and I liked it [Str8][mf][MMFF][inc] (Part 1?)

[NB. if this seems familiar — it is an edited, somewhat expanded version of a story I posted on my alt, in another sub. Enjoy; feedback is welcome. May be continued if feedback is positive. Reminder: this is pure *fiction*; don’t read if you dislike taboo topics, the nature of which should be pretty clear from the title.]

My parents had me late in life (I think I was kind of an accident) and my sister is 7 years older than me. When I was little, she was always like a distant, big slightly scary person who didn’t really seem to like me, probably because she was going through her angsty years when all I wanted was someone to play with. Later on, it wasn’t so bad. She definitely wasn’t unkind to me or anything, just a little bossy, but most of the time she’d just ignore me and do her own thing. Read more »

Topless by the lake [Str8][mf][inc]

Early experiences — even if they’re locked securely in the past, replayed only in our memories and perhaps the occasional dream — play a powerful role in shaping our mature sexual selves. As an adult there’s no question in my mind that breasts are my most potent sexual trigger, but I can remember a time when I didn’t think about breasts that much, because they didn’t seem like such a big mystery, for reasons I’ll explain. My curiosity was focused almost entirely on the genitalia, because they were always hidden away. And yet I eventually discovered that breasts could be a source of great pleasure for both the one who had them and the one who got to look at and touch them.

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Laundry [Str8][MF][Inc][mast][m] (warning, just a bit gross)

Yeah. When you have a son of a certain age living with you, it’s kind of hard to avoid the fact that he’s masturbating every chance he gets. Ours must do it at least 10 times a day, LOL. I don’t know if you’d necessarily say he’s “addicted” to masturbation; I know I was pretty compulsive about it at that age, too, but I turned out OK, I think. My wife and I try our best to keep a straight face whenever he walks into the living room with slightly flushed cheeks 5 minutes after we heard the squeaking noises from behind his closed bedroom door. Of course he thinks we suspect nothing…

My wife does his laundry and told me that half the things in his hamper, his shorts and his tops and his sheets and even his pillowcases(!) are regularly stained with white splotches. Sometimes they’re even still sticky. She commented wryly that he seems to think that anything tossed in the hamper just magically gets clean without every being touched by human hands or seen by human eyes. She likes to sort laundry by colors and read the care labels and other fancy stuff like that, so the sprog’s residual emissions all get the once-over. Read more »

Mom taught me to masturbate [Les?][Ff][inc][mast]

Someone in a different subreddit asked:

>Any parents out there ever try to watch their son or daughter masturbate or tell them it’s okay to do it out in the open? Do you encourage them to do it more often? Also would like to hear from any dads who have a daughter who masturbates a lot. DM if you have any experiences with these things.

I wouldn’t encourage parents to do this. My mom left me a bit messed up, I think. She didn’t exactly encourage me just to masturbate out in the open, but she used to masturbate pretty often herself and she kind of taught me to do the same. Not in the open but like under a blanket, next to her. She was a single parent so I guess sexually frustrated and I was her only daughter so there was no one really to stop her. She kept breastfeeding me for way longer than normal, I can still clearly remember the taste of milk from her breast which I don’t think is typical. And she used to masturbate while I was feeding, I can still remember that too. I’d be sucking on her breast and she’d have her hand down there and be kind of squeezing her legs over her hand LOL. Now that I’m a mom myself I know how it is and I also often touched myself and had orgasms when my kids were feeding. It helps the milk come I think. But I purposely didn’t keep breastfeeding them after they were old enough to stop and so (I hope) they wouldn’t remember me doing that, the way I remember my mom masturbating while I was feeding! I could always tell when she was done (when she had her orgasm) because her breathing would change. I didn’t know what it meant though, I thought it was just a normal part of breastfeeding. Read more »

Bathtime memories [Str8][inc][Ffm]

Taking a deep breath… OK. I’m posting this to the sexystories sub and I marked it as containing [Inc]est, but there is not really any actual incest or sex involved. It’s a story about coming of age. Everything I’m reminiscing about here was basically innocent. At least that’s the way it felt back then. Today, as an adult looking back on it, I see things in a sexual light that weren’t sexual at all back then. It turns me on, and I feel an intense yearning to go back to those days, knowing what I know now; but I know it’s not possible. Those days are lost forever. But it was so wonderful while it lasted…

My heart is pounding here… I’ve never admitted this to anyone. Um. Yeah. So… my Ma bathed my sister and me together regularly until we were both in our early teens, and my sister and I still bathed together for a long time even after Ma stopped doing that, and we all thought it was perfectly normal.

There, I said it. Read more »

Lucia [Str8][MF][F][mast][exhib][voy]

[I mostly write fictional stories, but this one is true — some details omitted or slightly modified to protect the guilty.]

This happened was when I was a grad student. I was in love with a woman in a foreign country, but for various reasons (I had limited financial means to go see her, she couldn’t afford to come to the US, and we’d never really established a solid physical relationship due to her hang-ups) that relationship was to some extent on “hold.” Nevertheless I had remained faithful to her for a year and a half as I tried to concentrate on my studies. Finally, I got a fellowship to go do field studies in the country in question — joy! I was pretty stressed out, though, in the last semester before I was to head over there. My “girlfriend” was sending mixed messages: sometimes she would talk about how excited she was that I was going to spend almost a year with her; other times, she’d tell me that she didn’t think I was actually going to end up coming. I tried to reassure her by joking that even if I didn’t want to go, I couldn’t avoid it as all the paperwork was done and I’d already withdrawn from classes for the next semester. That didn’t seem to reassure her. International telephone calls back then were expensive, so we didn’t talk that often. She didn’t have email access either — it wasn’t yet widely available outside of university computer science departments in her country. So we sent long handwritten letters back and forth, and I spent a lot of time trying to read between the lines that she wrote (it didn’t help that I was still learning the language). I knew I loved her and wanted to be with her, but I felt very uncertain about what I was going to find when I finally got over there. Read more »

Changing the rules of the happiness game (Part 7) [Str8][mf][inc][mm][F]

All morning at school I walked around in a daze. The full impact of how things had changed with Lily had finally landed. I knew the word for what we were doing, but I’d never, ever thought of applying it to my relationship with my sister; it seemed like a dirty, shameful, forbidden topic that belonged to the big, bad outside world, but had never had any relevance to us. I’d first encountered it in a crude scrawl defacing a 6th grade classroom desk, almost certainly placed there by a kid who was no more enlightened about its meaning than I: “INCEST IS BEST,” inscribed with, in place of the S letters, that funny-looking “cool” motif that was all the rage at the time. Surreptitiously, I’d looked the unfamiliar word up in the dictionary, realized that it was a dark and forbidden thing, and filed the knowledge away under “grownup stuff.” The only lasting impression it made on me was that I vaguely associated the “cool S” with forbidden knowledge for a long time thereafter. Read more »

Changing the rules of the happiness game (Part 6) [Str8][mf][inc][F]

I had a somewhat restless day at school. I still didn’t feel totally myself after my first experience with alcohol the night before — I realized with no small embarrassment that I must have consumed close to half of the bottle; I didn’t recall Timothy or Alice refilling their own glasses during dinner the way I had, and then the three of us had polished the bottle off afterwards. I had a residual headache and my stomach was unsettled. Furthermore, I hadn’t fully processed what had happened that morning. Hanging out in our underwear the night before had been one thing, but I couldn’t get the image of Alice standing in front of me, fully naked, out of my mind. She’d acted as if it were a totally everyday thing. And in fact Timothy seemed to think it was completely normal too — he was obviously used to sharing a bathroom with his mom, being in the shower when she was on the toilet, or using the toilet when she was in the shower, which meant they obviously didn’t think anything of seeing each other nude. Which, I figured, wasn’t *that* big a step from walking around in their underwear – I mean, once I’d accepted that — and after my initial embarrassment I’d quickly gotten used to it — why was I getting hung up on seeing Alice naked? I had to admit to myself that the problem was almost certainly that I found Alice quite attractive. I was rapidly ceasing to file her away in the “friend’s mom” category — she was just too intriguing and engaging a person for that. And, while I could tell that she was by no means conventionally beautiful in the Playboy model sense, she was *physically* intriguing as well. Her breasts were, it seemed to me, just the right size; not comically large, but adult, grown-up, totally different from the only other female breasts I’d seen close up: Lily’s bite-sized, still-developing pair. And her unapologetic mat of dark pubic hair seemed like it must hide untold delights. Read more »