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From: Ian Tucking <itucking@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Family Obsession [mf, inc, first, reluc]
Lines: 293
Date: Fri, 03 Feb 2006 03:10:01 -0500
Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


Hi. Here's my first story. Based loosely on my life.  Mostly but not
completely true.

Please email any comments.
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No doubt about it: I was as sex-obsessed as any other 15 year old. Not that
I thought about it all day, every day. It did take up a large portion of my
time and energy.

My dad had recently remarried. My step mom was a pleasant-enough woman in
her mid thirties, shoulder length brown hair, brown eyes, nice-sized tits.
A bit big; not really fat, but bigger than most of the goals I oogled.  He
stepdaughter looked very much like her, was 14, and had no extra fat that I
could see.

Lisa, my new step-sister, was always nice to me. We weren't really friends.
It was weird for both of us.  She was used to being with just her mom, me
with just dad. No big fights or anything, we were nice and polite but it
ended there.

But she was female, and I was often horny.

Our bedrooms were upstairs, with the master suite and a guest room below us.
I had noticed the first time I walked by the bathroom when she was in it
that there was a gap between the bottom of the door and the floor.  A few
weeks after they had moved in I got up the nerve to lie on the ground and
look. I could see her feet and ankles, and it thrilled me. I watched,
intent, flat on my stomach, as I saw her pants and panties come down to the
floor. A moment later her shirt, then bra, followed.

My stomach was doing the nervous-wonderful flips when you're excited and
nervous. My cock was hard, and I moved my hips against the floor as she sat
on the toilet. Again, only her feet were visible, but my mind was racing. I
came in my shorts before she stood up again, and once again as she stood
before the mirror, then entered the shower and I could see nothing more of
her.

I went to my room, pulled down my cum-covered cock and jacked off to the
images in my mind.  From that point on, whenever I could be fairly certain
neither my dad nor step-mother would be coming up the stairs, I would
flatten myself outside the bathroom when she was inside.

Three months later I had an idea. Actually, finally got the nerve to follow
through on it. I had taken to exploring her room when no one was home, or
when our parents were out and she was bathing (since I could only see her
feet before and after the shower, not during).  I had rubbed myself to
orgasm with her panties, licked the cups of her bras, whatever my perverted,
hormone-ravaged mind could conceive.  I had found and read her diary, which
she updated once or twice a week, and kept up-to-date on what she recorded
there. And in my searchings I had found a small mirror.  One Saturday, with
our parents out shopping, I retrieved it and lay outside the bathroom.

Horny, nervous, scared, short of breath, I slowly placed the mirror on the
floor of the bathroom, slightly under the door, off the carpet in the hall.
I angled it back, pressing my head carefully to the door, trying not to hit
it and make noise, revealing my presence. I looked into the mirror.  I could
see Lisa, seated on the toilet, hands on her legs. Her bare legs. Her shirt
was still on, but she had already stripped from the waist down.  I watched,
eyes wide, barely breathing, as she pulled off a piece of toilet paper and
dried herself.

She stood and I came, grinding my dick into the floor.

Intently I watched as she revealed the first live female form I had seen. No
mere picture or video here. The shirt came off, revealing a white bra, very
modest, which turned me on even more. Peeking at her when she was dressed so
modestly.  I knew from my searchings in her room she had an A-cup.  She
reached behind, undoing the clasp, casually dropping the bra to the floor.

I was rock hard again, watching her. The fact she was unaware added to the
eroticism.  Calmly she regarded herself in the mirror. I had seen this
before. Or, at least, I had seen her feet standing in from of the mirror
when I knew she was naked. I had not seen her as she hefted her breasts, as
if weighing them. She swivelled slightly on her feet, regarding her tight
ass.

She turned to the door and bent down, retrieving her clothes. I was too
scared, startled to move. She didn't see me. I saw her bush, though, brown
like the hair on her head, slightly trimmed as it was summer and bathingsuit
season.

She got in the shower, closing the curtain most of the way. I didn't see her
most of the time, but did get time to admire her legs as she came to the
back of the stall, propped up one leg, applied shaving cream and removed any
stubble there. She repeated with the other.  She exited, grabbed a towel,
and I left quickly, returning the mirror.

I listened behind the closed door to my room as she emerged, minutes later,
and then heard her door shut. I stood there naked, rapidly fisting my cock,
still hard from what I had seen.

So that became the routine. At least once a week, usually more, I would
watch her strip and bathe.  Eventually the nervousness would go away, but
not the excitement. Once, when my dad was out of town, I tried the same with
my step-mother, but the gap under the door wasn't high enough. I caught a
quick glimpse of her ass, fleshy and large, but nothing more. I preferred
her daughter.

My obsession grew. I would take her bras and panties from the hamper and put
them on one of my pillows, then lay naked on top of it, fucking my dick
against it. Seems so stupid now, but then it was the height or eroticism.  I
would stay longer and longer, watching even as she got dressed, leaving
moments before the door opened. Obtaining my own mirror (not having to take,
then replace, hers) helped. I would do tis even when our parents were home.

One night I watched her shower quickly, then dress for bed.  She only pulled
on a tshirt, which fell to her knees. We had been siblings for about nine
months at this point. Our relationship had improved somewhat.  I sat in my
room, imagining her in her bed, naked under that thin cotton. I had seen a
dim light on, knew it was the lamp by her bed.

I waited. Eventually our parents went to bed. I went downstairs to check
that their door was shut. I had a plan, was nervous again, and thus
paranoid. Their door was shut. I went back upstairs. Gathering my nerve
outside her door took almost five minutes of internal debate. Finally I
grasped the knob, turned and opened it a crack.

"Lisa?"  No reply.

"Lisa?" Louder this time.  I heard her mumble something. I had awaken her.
"Can I talk to you?"

She turned on the lamp.  "What? What's wrong?"

I stood at the door, suddenly unsure. "I need to talk to you."

"Come in, ok. What is it?"  I walked in, shut the door, sat on the edge of
her bed.  She sat up, the covers up to just below her breasts.  I had come
up with a plan of what to say, based on things I had read in her diary.
Couldn't think of the damn plan now. So I winged it. I started talking about
this girl at our school I wanted to date.  I wanted to take her out -- I had
since turned 16, so this was easier -- but couldn't get the nerve. Did she
like me?

Lisa didn't know, but started talking. She relaxed. Conversation shifted
through topics. I was actually enjoying this. We made a few jokes. I teased
her. She punched me on the arm. I pushed her playfully, she popped me again.


I shot my hand to her side, tickling her quickly. She squealed, I shushed
her; don't want to wake the parents. We began teasing each other more, I
loomed over her, tickling her.

Feeling her flesh was marvelous. She was careful to keep the covers above
her waist. She ended on her side, facing away, I was pressed up against
her.  One arm over her, tickling her side. One under her, holding her arm. I
let go of her arm.  As she moved I felt her right tit press into my hand. I
used my weight on her back to push her down, holding her there, still
pretending to only be trying to tickle her.  I gently squeezed her tit.  It
was amazing.

"Ian, what are you doing?"

I said nothing. I could feel her nipple, hard, under my fingers. I flicked
it.  "Ian? Ian."

She pushed up, I let her loose. She turned over, pulled the covers up over
her, to her neck.  "Why did you do that?"

"I've wanted to. You're so beautiful, Lisa, I wanted to touch you.  I moved
to touch her face, her hair. She closed her eyes, flinched slightly, but did
not pull away.  "Please, Lisa."

She said nothing. I lay beside her. I kissed her lips and she jumped.  "Ian,
no, c'mon this isn't funny."  I kissed her again, shushing her softly. I
felt hot, hard, scared, in control, afraid of losing it.  I licked her lips,
she did not respond. I used one hand to push on her chin, she opened her
mouth slightly and I tasted inside of her. She lay there, not fighting, not
talking.

Emboldened I pulled the blanket off of her, down to her waist. I tried to
pull the shirt up, she put her hands to her sides and held the hem.  No
matter, I lay over her, my legs straddling her, feeling her form under me
for the first time. I used both hands to feel her tits through the shirt,
which I returned to kissing her. She would now open her mouth, but not
respond otherwise. Her eyes stayed shut.

"Open your legs, Lisa."  She didn't move. I repeated the command and she
complied. I lay between them. I forced my mouth hard against hers. I kept my
right hand on her tit, my left went down, tracing her arm, then under it,
holding her ass through the shirt she still held.

I began to move against her.  "Ow, Ian, slow down, that hurts."  Her eyes
were open now.  I took the hint. I had won. I began to grind against her.
After a few minutes she began to respond.

It lasted only about a minute before I came. I lay on her, the blankets and
clothes seperating us, panting. I realized she was, too.  I kissed her
lightly on the mouth, then again, harder.  I got off her.

"Thanks, Lisa."  She said nothing. No expression.  "I love you."

She smiled faintly. I left.

The next day I avoided her. Partly I felt ashamed. Partly I wanted to
through her down and fuck her. It was early afternoon before I was forced to
talk to her. I was nervous. She seemed fine, chatting as normal.

That night I returned to her room. Same as before, calling her, the lamp
came on, we talked. I soon lay beside her, kissing her. She responded,
slowly.  She held her shirt as I tried to pull it up. "Let go, Lisa."  She
did.  I saw her tits up close. I sucked on them, one at a time.  Her
breathing increased, nipples hard. I don't know how long I suckled her,
revealing in the taste, the feel. Eventually I came grinding into her, but
kept going, only slowing my thrusts. She was rising to meet me.

Lisa resisted as I pulled the covers off her. I persisted, and she gave in.
She looked away as I saw her up close. It occurred to me that she thought
this was the first time I had seen her, but I knew her body well form a
distance. I chuckled, which she misunderstood.

"What's wrong, Ian?"

"Oh, no, Lisa, you're beautiful. I'm just happy to see you like this." And
she smiled.  She opened her legs, held out her arms.  I pulled off my shirt,
left my shorts on, and began humping her.  After a moment I put my fingers
to her pussy, sliding a finger in. I knew nothing of a clit at this time,
but she enjoyed the penetration.  I quickly grew tired of it; my dick was
rock solid, and I wanted to come again.  I pulled away.

Again she misunderstood, but it worked out to my advantage. "NO, don't stop,
please."  I was flattered, felt powerful, and pushed my finger back in, and
she fucked back.  Then she shocked me: "Do you have a condom?"

I froze. I was 16, and a virgin still.  But hell yes. I didn't saw a word,
but went into my room and retrieved on from my sock drawer where they were
hidden. Not used, but as a personal treasure.  But now... now I went to her
room.

I was a bit shy stripping. I had seen her so many times, but this was
different. But she lay there, naked, and so I got over it quickly. I
clumsily rolled it down my shaft and got over her.

"I'm a virgin," she said.  "Are you?"

"No," I lied, not knowing why.

She bit her lip. "Ok. But go slow, Ok"

"Yeah," I was desperate to be in her. I fumbled and found her opening. She
winced once or twice as I pushed on the wrong place. Then I felt the heat,
the wetness, and the head of my cock found the proper place.

I gasped, she winced. I slowly pushed. Slow but steady. A sharp intake of
breath told me she was hurting, I didn't care. I felt the tightness, the
heat of her.  I soon slid all the way in.

God, I almost came right then. She grabbed me. "Wait, just wait."  I waited.
I would have stayed still all night, as long as I could have felt the
tightness of her virgin cunt.

"Ok, but slow, ok?"  I nodded, pulled out. She lifted her hips to meet me.
We found a rhythem. I cupped her ass, she pulled my mouth to hers. We
fucked. My step-sister was my first, I was hers.  I came far too soon,
pulling her ass hard against me, plunging as deep and as hard as I could.

We lay there naked for a few moments. I was no longer a virgin. She seemed
about to speak. I looked at her, when there was a knock at the door and it
opened.

It was her mother.  "Lisa? I heard some... oh my God."

We all froze. My mind was reeling.  Her mom shut the door. Lisa began to
cry.  I got up, dressed, went out to hurry to my room. My step-mother was
there.

"Did you..." she started, standing in my room. "Did you make love?"  I
nodded, scared to death. I knew my life was over.

She looked at me, then at the floor, then around the room. Finally back to
me. She stepped forward, I backed up but she caught me, placing her hand on
my shoulder.

"Ian," she said, quiet, pleading, "You can't tell your father."

What the fuck?  I didn't say that, of course, but I sure as shit thought
it.  "Yeah, I know."

She regarded me for a second, then nodded.  "Ok, this stays between us."

After she left, I went to Lisa's room, told her it was ok. She was
uncertain. But then, hell, so was I.
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