1. Kinky Vanilla: Chapter 7


    Date: 8/4/2015, Categories: Fiction, Blowjob, Consensual Sex, Domination/submission, Incest, Teen Male/Teen Female, Young, Author: jordeso, Rating: 92.1, Source: sexstories.com

    the beginning of my 16th year and the fourth day before her expected period, she snuck into my room completely nude and rode me raw until we both climaxed. And so here we were again, naked and spent in the middle of the night, recovering from the throes of teenage lust. "You're the fucking best, sis," I sighed. I felt Cammi's cheek press ever so slightly harder against my collarbone. She was smiling wider. "I know," she said sweetly. She nuzzled her face against my chest and ground her pussy against my wilting cock. I didn't remember falling asleep, but I woke up in the same position with my blanket on top of me. I looked down at my body and the rest of my bed, and saw no cum stains or clothes on the floor. Cammi had cleaned up on her own after I had fallen asleep. What an angel. You're sixteen now and she's still taking care of you. When are you gonna get your shit together? I leapt onto my feet and looked around. It was strange. I never suddenly felt older or more grown up on birthdays. They weren't even that big a deal to me since I turned eight. And nothing had changed from the night before or even the last three years for that matter, but my room looked different. The air smelled different. I felt different. I didn't feel content sitting on my ass doing nothing all day. I wanted to do more things, see more things, have more things. I was hungrier. The feeling never passed. At school all the other students no longer looked like faces in a crowd. As I passed them in the ...
    halls I looked at each of them and imagined all their lives and their struggles. I thought about what their families might be like, or what they had for breakfast, or how they picked their clothes, or what shows they watched. They weren't just strangers anymore, they were people, and competition. I had always been a pacifist and a wimp. I always chose to run from trouble rather than stand my ground. Now I saw all the bullies and the gangsters and the jocks and felt a burning in my chest. I passed by the douchebags and the delinquents and felt contempt. I saw Antonio Ruiz walking in my direction from down the hall and imagined pushing his face into the lockers. The shrimp was probably bullied in grade school or something, but instead of channeling his pain into something positive or just becoming introverted he turned into a borderline sociopath, always hostile to everyone taller than him and rude to every female. I resisted the urge to stick my foot in his path as he strode past me in the hall. At my locker as I was unloading my backpack I watched this uppity Senior strut past with Grace Lowe around his arm. What's his name? Roger something. Toolbag. Our private school was modest, with cheapish tuition and not only no uniform, but a surprisingly loose dress code. And still the snobby shit dressed like a Fortune 500 preppie on crack, with blazers and khaki pants and shoes that were probably custom made. He already acted like he owned the place, but since he had landed Gold ...
«1234...910»