This is a service of the Erotic Broadcast Service!  The following story is not
written by me nor do I agree/diagree with its contents.  I am simply posting
this story so that concenting adults who might not find this disagreable will
enjoy it.  As such, the author retains all rights to the story and all areas of
its publication.  If anyone who has written a better legal disclaimer, I would
appreciate it very much if you would send me a copy to use with my postings.
"Please continue reading ONLY IF YOU'RE ABOVE 18 YEARS OLD and reading this story
does not break any kind of law in your community/city/state/country."  Thanks. :-}
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
                            Ellen
                             by
                     Emerson Laken-Palmer
                            Part 1.
                          Chapter 1.
  Not that it matters to you but I am not a dirty story writer and
this is not a dirty story.  At least, I don't mean it to be.  This
story is one hundred percent true.  It all happened just they way
I'm describing it.  You can judge for yourself if I'm a rotten
person or perverted or what.
  It all started when I was sixteen and a Junior in High School.
  I was an alright guy.  I didn't get great grades at school but
I was passing.  I didn't have girls falling all over me but I had
a girlfriend.  Her name was Linda and she was okay looking.  I used
to take her out to movies and a concert or something.
  It was just the sex thing that was driving me crazy.
  You see, I had never gotten any.  Any pussy.  Not from Linda.
Not from anyone before her either.  And I was revved up for it. I
really wanted it bad.  My hormones were running away with me at
that age.
  It was always the same though.  I'd take Linda to a movie and
then for a hamburger.  We'd park in front of her house (I had a
great car.  A Firebird.  Linda really liked that car.)  She'd let
me kiss her for a while. (She was an alright kisser.  She didn't
like too much tongue though.)  Then I'd start to nuzzle and kiss
her neck.  (She had a great perfume smell in her long, brown hair.)
And then I'd start to run my hands over her tits.
  That's when she would always start with the "I gotta' go in now."
stuff.
  She'd push me away and I'd keep trying to gain some ground (maybe
get my hand actually into her shirt) but she'd keep pushing me away
and then finally (angry as hell) I'd let her go in.
  God it was frustrating.  And it was also a bad scene.  We'd
always end our dates on this hostel note.
  I'd go home and jack off to try and ease this damnable
frustration and then fall asleep mad.
  I would forget about it (the anger) next day at school though and
I'd see Linda and talk to her and say I was sorry and things would
be back to normal before our next date.
  On this particular day, I ran into Linda in the hallway after
class.  She looked really great in her tight jeans and sweater.
"Hey Linda," I called to her.  "what's up?"
  She smiled at me, as I stood by her, but it was a strange,
nervous smile.  There seemed to be an odd signal in her brown eyes.
  "Hey, Danny," she said, "what's new?"
  "The football game's tonight," I said to her.  "We're going,
right?"
  Linda looked away, fidgeting with her books.  "I'm not going
tonight," she said in a quiet voice. "I've got a lot of homework
and stuff."
  "Not going?  But we always go on Friday night!"
  "Sorry Danny," she said. "Maybe next week, huh?"
  A girlfriend called her from down the hall and Linda walked away
quickly with a curt wave to me.
  This was odd, I thought, but what the hell.  My buddy Dave was
on the team and (even if Linda wasn't going) I'd go without her.
  When I got home, my kid sister Ellen was cooking some canned
spaghetti in the kitchen.  She was always cooking after-school
snacks. (Something that Mom would do if she were home, but both our
parents worked and me and Ellen were always on our own until after
six.)  She liked cooking, I guess.  She made brownies and fudge and
things like that, for us, sometimes.
  "Want some?" she asked, as she licked a splatter of sauce off of
her wrist.
  "I guess so," I said as I sat down at the table.
  Ellen was fifteen at that time.  A year younger than me.  She
was an okay sister (I guess) and we got along pretty well.  Oh, we
had our fights, now and again, but nothing major.  Sisters just
invade your space sometimes, you know what I mean?
  As I watched her, standing at the stove and stirring the
spaghetti, I began thinking about what my buddies had been telling
me lately - how foxy Ellen was becoming.  I shot them down when I
heard it though.  Nobody had better touch my little sister!  I
didn't want guys looking at her, and thinking about her, in that
way.  I certainly never did.
  My sister was just always a person who was there, in my house,
like Mom and Dad.  You never really notice people in your own
family because they are somehow so familiar that you talk to them
and deal with them without really paying much attention them.
--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--***ATTENTION***
Your e-mail reply to this message WILL be *automatically* ANONYMIZED.
Please, report inappropriate use to                abuse@anon.penet.fi
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This is a service of the Erotic Broadcast Service!  The following story is not
written by me nor do I agree/diagree with its contents.  I am simply posting
this story so that concenting adults who might not find this disagreable will
enjoy it.  As such, the author retains all rights to the story and all areas of
its publication.  If anyone who has written a better legal disclaimer, I would
appreciate it very much if you would send me a copy to use with my postings.
"Please continue reading ONLY IF YOU'RE ABOVE 18 YEARS OLD and reading this story
does not break any kind of law in your community/city/state/country."  Thanks. :-}
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
                            Ellen
                             by
                     Emerson Laken-Palmer
                           Part 2.
  Looking at her now, I realized that, although I had become much
taller than her in recent years, Ellen was now only a half-a-head
shorter than me.  She certainly looked enough like me so that
nobody would mistake the fact that she was my sister.  We both had
the same shaped face and the same mouth and nose.  Her eyes were
blue though (like Dad's) while mine were (my mother's) brown and
my dark hair contrasted with her long, full, blond tresses.  I
guess the major difference between us, when we were little kids,
had always been that I was a boy and she was a girl.  Or, at least,
she HAD been a girl.
  I hadn't really paid any attention, until just this moment, to
how much she had changed over the last year.  Her back was to me
now and I could see how nice her round behind looked, in her yellow
shorts, and how full and shapely her legs had become.  She struck
such a sexy pose, as she stood there, without really meaning to.
Gosh, it seemed like she'd just had skinny "stick legs" the last
time I had even bothered to look at her.
  Ellen brought two plates of spaghetti to the table and we sat and
ate in silence for a while.
  "Going to the game?" she asked as she got up for some milk.
  Ellen was a sophomore that year.  She wasn't into playing sports
but she liked to go to the games and watch and gab with her friends
and cheer for our team.
  "Yeah," I said.  "What about you?"
  "No.  I'm going to wait for Eddie to call."
  Eddie was (kind of) her boyfriend.  I didn't like him.  He was
a geek.  A stupid looking kid with red hair and big ears and
freckles.  He reminded me of Alfred E. Neuman and I used to tell
Ellen that to tease her.  I  guess he was a safe guy though.  He
didn't look like the type that would try anything with her.  Mom
and Dad wouldn't let her go out with him (or any other boy) anyway.
They told her that she had to wait until she was sixteen.  He was
a "puppy love" kind of thing with her.  Just a boy she talked with
on the phone and used to carry her books around at school.
  "How is Alfred?" I asked smiling as she leaned over to put a
glass of milk in front of me.  I couldn't help myself.  I could see
down the neck opening of her t-shirt.  Her breasts (in her white
bra) revealed their cleavage to me.  Ellen WAS developing very
nicely.   "Oh, shut up!" She said as she stood back upright.
  I could feel my face redden for a moment.  Had she seen me
looking down her shirt?  God, that would be awful!
  She walked out of the kitchen and I could hear her going up to
her room.
  Aw, to hell with it, I told myself, there's no harm in looking
and I tossed all thoughts of her away.
  I had gone up to listen to some jams on the stereo and I must
have fallen asleep because, when I woke up, it was after seven! I
jumped up and ran downstairs.  I was late for the game!
  Mom and Dad and Ellen were eating in the kitchen when I walked
briskly in.
  "Sit down and eat, Danny," Mom said as I headed for the side
door.
  "Can't Mom, I'm late."
  "Hey, you gotta have something!"
  "I'll get a bite at the game," I said as I left the house.
   When I got to school half-time was over and the game was in the
fourth quarter.  I went to the snack stand and got a hamburger.
Bud and Phil were at the stand too and we talked a while about
Phil's new car.  By the time I had eaten, the game was over and
everyone was leaving the field.
  That's when I saw Linda.  She was walking with my buddy Dave
toward the locker room door.  I could see them holding hands and
talking and, when they got to the door, he kissed her.  And she
seemed to really kiss him back.
  What a bitch!
  What a bastard!
  I tossed my hamburger wrapper in the trash and walked quickly to
my car so that Linda wouldn't see me.
  When I got home, Ellen was lying on the couch watching TV.
I walked over and made to sit down.  I had to push her legs over
to make a spot for me to sit.
  "What's the matter?" she asked.
  I guess I didn't look too good.  "Linda!  She seems to have
dumped me for Dave!"
--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--***ATTENTION***
Your e-mail reply to this message WILL be *automatically* ANONYMIZED.
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