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The First Time

Posted by: Author: Age: 28 Posted on: 0 comments
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I feel absolutely no regret about this. For those of you who don't like 'family' matters, then pass on this one. It is absolutely true.

 

I was 21, had just returned home from college and my family was in utter turmoil. My mum had left home, prefering as I might have expected, to ditch all and any responsibilities for a life of doing what she wanted and when. This typified my childhood. Mum was never a mum really, and to be honest, after her numerous affairs, I think dad is better off without her. As far as I am concerned, she no longer exists.


But, about a year later, late one dark and stormy winter's night, I was walking from the bathroom to my bedroom in only a bathrobe. Dad's door was open the barest crack, and in a reflection in his mirror, I saw him. He was standing up, naked, with a hard-on. He was masturbating furiously, but he also had a tear running down his cheek. He couldn't get off.


I watched for a minute or two before pushing the door open and walking in. He tried to cover himself up, but I pulled the towel away and sat on his bed. I let my robe fall open, and reached for his cock and started to jack him. He stood facing me and just looking down at my body. I spread my legs a little so he could see my pussy, (and yes, I shave). It didn't take him long before he spurted onto my chest. It ran down my tummy and over my pussy. I milked the last drops from him before standing up, kissing him on the cheek and returning to my room.


Once there, I let my robe fall to the floor and looked at myself in the mirror. His sperm was running down me. I reached between my legs and masturbated to orgasm looking at myself in the mirror, and rubbing his sperm into myself. Then I had to have another shower.(Duh!)


Lying in bed later that night, I thought about what I had done. It felt totally natural. Dad has suffered so much, I knew he was getting no sex from mum for years, and being abandoned, he must have felt so lonely. I guess masturbation is one thing when it is a choice, but quite another when it is the only thing you have. As for me, I wondered if I would do it again. (Yes, anytime.) I also wondered if I would go further? (Well, I have a job that almost totally precludes a regualr social life. Meeting someone is all-but impossible and yes, I got laid a couple of times at Uni, and, frankly, I miss a good fucking.) I really don't know. Maybe that is a bridge too far, but at the time I jacked him, if he had pushed me back on the bed and tried to enter me, I would have not only let him but welcomed it.


Thinking about this set me off again and I jilled myself imagining him fucking me.


Bad? Many readers here may think so. All I ask is that if you must comment, please, accept this as it is written, which is as an honest sharing of experience.

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