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Eric’s Obsession
by Ann Automis (address withheld)

***

A 17 year old boy is obsessed with having sex with his 
14 year old sister. (mf-teens, inc)

***

My name is Eric. I was seventeen, my parents were in 
their late forties, and my sister was fourteen when the 
events that I’m about to describe took place.

I grew up in a very loving family. I loved and 
respected my both parents. The same is true of my 
younger sister. We always got along well and shared a 
mutual respect; at least I thought we did. It turns out 
that I didn’t have the slightest idea who she really 
was.

Janet, or Jan, as we usually called her, had a pleasant 
personality. She always seemed happy and would help my 
mother with chores around the house without complaint. 
She was very intelligent, usually getting all ‘A’s with 
a few ‘B’s on her report cards. Physically, I wouldn’t 
say she was beautiful, but she was pretty. She carried 
a few extra pounds, but carried them well. She looked 
nice. 

She had light brown, shoulder length hair, and a truly 
beautiful smile. She had a studious look to her. Her 
large round glasses and the conservative way she 
dressed made her look like she would grow up to be a 
stereotypical librarian some day. I never thought of 
her sexually. Unfortunately that was about to change.

One day, after school, I was sitting in the high school 
football field bleaches, casually watching football 
practice as I waited for my friend Mike to show up. 
Four or five rows in front of me, three kids, around 
Janet’s age, were having a very crude conversation. 

"Joe, you have to fuck her." One of them said to his 
friend. "What are you waiting for?" 

"Are you Chicken?" 

"I’m too fat. She would never fuck me," Joe said. 

"Of course she would. Janet will fuck anyone. And 
besides, I forgot to tell you, the last time I fucked 
her, right after I came in her face, I asked her if she 
would fuck you," and she said, "sure, why not."

Even though they used the name Janet; I didn’t for a 
second think they were talking about my sister, but 
them something happened. One of them turned around, 
noticed me, and then whispered something to the other 
two. At that point, the three of them seemed to become 
nervous and they had guilty looks on their faces. 

Again, I thought nothing about it. I assumed they felt 
guilty because they realized someone had overheard 
their crude conversation. They got up and walked away. 
When they were some distance from me, one of them said 
something to the other two that I couldn’t hear. With 
that, they burst out laughing loudly. They kept looking 
over their shoulders at me with big grins on their 
faces. "Very strange," I thought. "What was that all 
about?"

When Mike showed up, I told him about the incident, and 
he looked very uncomfortable.

"What’s going on?" I said.

"Why do you look so uncomfortable?"

"Were they talking about Janet?"

"You really don’t want to know," was Mike’s response.

"Oh Jesus," I moaned.

Neither of us said a word for at least three minutes. 
Finally I said, "Tell me everything you know."

Mike didn’t want to, but I talked him into it. He began 
by saying that he started to hear stories about Janet 
around a year ago. Janet was a slut, not just any slut, 
but the biggest slut he ever heard about. She would do 
anything, with just about anyone. She liked an 
audience. One guy would fuck her in the cunt while 
another fucked her in the ass and at the same time, 
blow a third while other guys stood around and watched, 
waiting their turn. 

She is famous for her blowjobs. People talk about the 
way she would take the cock out of her mouth just as 
the guy was coming, hold it about a foot from her face, 
and with incredible accuracy, shoot their sperm right 
in her mouth. Everyone comments on how much she enjoys 
herself, the way she always has a big smile on her face 
as she bounces up and down on a cock.

"By the way," Mike interjected. "You’re famous; anyone 
in town can point you out as Janet’s brother. It's 
amazing that you never noticed people whispering when 
you’re around."

Mike went on with other stories of her escapades for at 
least twenty minutes. Finally when he finished, I 
asked, "Did you ever fuck her?"

"No," he said. "A year ago, before I heard anything 
about her, she came on to me, but I was afraid. She’s 
so young. But if the opportunity arose now, I think I 
would; after all, everyone else has."

With that statement, I punched him. I didn’t mean to, I 
don’t believe in violence. It just happened without 
thinking. Fortunately, Mike had very good reflexes, and 
he quickly moved his head back. It was just a glancing 
blow. I apologized immediately and Mike accepted. He 
said he realized how disturbing it must be to hear such 
things about your sister. Mike and I remained friends. 
I don’t know if he eventually did fuck Janet, we never 
spoke of her again.

We didn’t go to the mall that afternoon as planned. I 
went home instead. I went to my room and stayed there 
with my many disturbing thoughts. I skipped supper, 
telling my mother that I wasn’t feeling well. I was so 
confused and sad about Janet. 

I felt like I didn’t know her. It was as if the sister 
I grew up with didn’t exist, almost as if she had died, 
as in an auto accident. I was in mourning and I even 
cried. The next minute I would be angry, feeling 
foolish and betrayed. How was it possible that I didn’t 
notice anything? How could she fool me so completely? 
Many thoughts like this swirled through my head until 
very late when, I finally fell asleep. 

I didn’t see Janet until the next day. When I came home 
after school, she was in the kitchen doing the dishes.

"Hi Eric," she said brightly, "feeling better?" 

"You slut," I said with bitterness. "You’ll fuck 
anyone."

Her face dropped and stayed that way for maybe five 
seconds, but then gradually a smile entered her eyes.

"Yup, sure will," she said. "There is nothing I like 
better than a big hard cock banging in and out of my 
cunt." 

She continued, "Yup, there’s nothing like a good fuck. 
Of course you wouldn’t know that, you’re probably still 
a virgin, and you’re such a prude you’ll probably 
remain one until you’re thirty."

That wasn’t quite true, but it was close. I had very 
little sexual experience.

Her reaction wasn’t what I was expecting. I’m not sure 
what I expected, but that wasn’t it. I didn’t know what 
to say. I didn’t know what to do. I just went to my 
room. Who was she?

Gradually, over the next few weeks, those confusing 
feelings of anger and sadness went away, but were 
replaced with something worse. 

One night she was in the living room doing her 
homework. She was wearing a thick cotton nightgown. My 
mother and father were in there too, reading a book and 
the newspaper, respectively. I was watching television. 
Janet got up, stretched, and said "I’m going to bed, 
good night everyone." When she did, I noticed that she 
wasn’t wearing a bra and her tits looked great. 

From then on I started to look at her in a different 
way. I started watching her and thinking about her more 
and more. I started to picture what she looked like 
naked or when she fucked. I started thinking about her 
when I jerked off. I jerked off more and more often. I 
wondered if she took her glassed off when someone came 
in her face. In my daydreams, she usually kept them on. 
Whenever she went out I wondered if she was going out 
to fuck. She became an obsession. 

One day I said to myself, "I want to fuck Jan. I want 
to fuck her hard, pull my cock out and come all over 
her face. I want to grab her big tits. I want to watch 
her blow me. And when I’m done, I want to do it again, 
and then again, and again." 

I decided on the direct approach, after all she was a 
slut. One day when we were the only ones home, I simply 
asked "Hey Jan, can I fuck you?"

She burst out laughing. I’ve never seen anyone laugh so 
hard. She laughed so hard she couldn’t even talk. 
Finally when the laughter died down, she finally 
managed to say, "No way, I’ll never fuck you." I asked 
if she would blow me or let me feel her up. I started 
begging. This only brought about more laughter.

That week, to her amusement, I probably asked her 
twenty different times. I gradually accepted it was 
hopeless and stopped asking. Unfortunately, after I 
stopped asking, she started the most brutal teasing 
campaign that anyone was ever subjected to.

She used to mouth kisses at me, and wink.

It might not sound like much, but that wink was so 
incredibly erotic. It seemed to say so much. It seemed 
to say, "I love to fuck. I fuck everyone. I know you 
want to fuck me too, but you can’t." The wink had the 
intended effect, many times when she did it, I had to 
run to my room and jerk off.

The teasing became more intense.

Once, when we were alone in the house, I was in the in 
the living room watching television. She came in, sat 
down on the sofa, and she started to unbutton her 
blouse. She didn’t stop there, after she removed her 
blouse, she reached behind and unhooked her bra. Her 
breast spilled out and they were beautiful; large, 
round, and firm. I would have given anything to suck 
them.

When I asked her if I could, she said, "Nope." She 
looked at me straight in the eye as she sat there, 
feeling herself up. Then she started bouncing, slowly 
at first and then faster, like she was riding a cock 
and approaching orgasm. She put on a great show. 
Afterwards, I had to run to my room and pull it.

Another day she started sucking on her index finger. 
She pantomimed a blowjob so well that near the end of 
her performance, I swear I saw sperm shoot out of her 
finger into her mouth. Once again I had to run to my 
room.

One day after I walked by her bedroom the worst teasing 
event occurred. Janet was looking at herself in the 
mirror. She was wearing a mid-length plaid skirt, a 
blouse, knee socks, and penny loafers. Her hair was 
done up in pigtails. She looked just like the innocent 
school girl that I once believed she was. 

"Hey Eric," she called out, "Come here."

"How do I look?"

"Beautiful," I said. "You truly look beautiful and 
sweet."

"But don’t you think this dress makes me look kind of 
slutty?" she asked as she walked over to the bed and 
sat down.

"No." I said, "Just the opposite."

"Oh," she said. She sounded disappointed.

"How about now?" she asked, as she leaned back on the 
bed, pulled her skirt up and spread her legs wide. She 
wasn’t wearing panties and her cunt was shaved. She was 
looking right at me with a big smile on her face. 

I assumed it was an invitation. She was finally going 
to let me fuck her. I ripped off my cloths. She just 
laughed and told me to get lost.

"Why not?" I pleaded. "You’ll fuck anyone. Why not me?"

"Because, three months ago, when you called me a slut; 
you didn’t say it as a compliment," she said. 
"Besides," she added. "Teasing you is so much fun."

"I don’t care if you want it or not," I threatened. 
"I’m going to fuck you." I took a step towards her with 
rape on my mind. 

The teasing smile left her face immediately and 
coldness entered her eyes. "If you ever lay a hand on 
me," she stated. "Someone will beat the shit out of you 
any time you leave the house." She added, "There are 
plenty of guys in this town who will do anything I 
ask."

I stopped as if slapped. I was sure she meant it. I put 
my cloths back on and left the room. 

Who was Jan? She certainly wasn’t the sister I grew up 
with. Who was this girl who could dispense violence 
like a mafia don?

Although I realized it was utterly hopeless, I was 
still obsessed. I still thought of her and jerked off 
in my room often. One day I realized what an idiot I 
was. If she could show me her tits and cunt, why did I 
go to my room to jerk-off? From that moment on I would 
jerk it right in front of her whenever we were the only 
ones home. 

It was so much better having her right there in person 
when I climaxed. If my parents were out I would just 
show up where she was and start pulling it. I was so 
obsessed with her that it didn’t matter what she was 
doing. She always made me horny. She could be reading, 
watching television, doing her homework or the dishes, 
it just didn’t matter. Everything she did made me 
horny. 

At first she thought it was the funny and went go along 
with it. She would feel herself up and suck her fingers 
to egg me on. But I was relentless. If my parents were 
out I would do it four times a day. She eventually got 
bored. I could see that she was becoming irritated but 
I didn’t care. I kept doing it. 

One day she said, "Eric, this is getting tiresome its 
going to have to stop." Of course I didn’t stop. Two 
hours later I walked in on her and started pulling it 
again. "Stop that right now." She said. "Please don’t 
make me threaten you again." 

So that was it. I stopped. We seemed to reach some kind 
of truce. I didn’t jerk-off in her presents and she 
stopped teasing. Three months later I graduated from 
high school and went away to college. I stopped 
thinking of her and the obsession died away. That was 
twenty years ago. 

Since then, I graduated from college. I now have a 
challenging, well paying career, a beautiful wife and 
three great kids; a boy and two girls, ages ten, eight, 
and five. We live in a different state than Jan and my 
parents. We seldom see each other. My family flies in 
for either Thanksgiving or Christmas at my parent’s 
house. At these gatherings Jan and I have polite 
meaningless conversations for our parents benefit and 
ignore each other when they’re not around.

That’s the way it’s been for the last twenty years. I 
had my own life and I never thought about Jan. I wish 
that were still true.

For years my parents have been clamoring for more time 
with their grandkids, so last week we flew in to stay 
at their house for a few days during the 4th of July 
weekend. It was there, at the 4th of July cookout, that 
my problems with Janet restarted.

The cookout was a relaxed affair among my family, my 
parents, a few close friends of my parents, and Janet, 
who showed up alone. 

I’ve had almost no contact with Janet over the last 
twenty years. I don’t really know anything about her. 
She is a 3rd grade school teacher and never married. 
That’s all I know. She looks vary much as she did years 
ago. She’s older of course and she lost some weight but 
she still dresses conservatively and still has the big 
round glasses. 

The day consisted of good food, soft drinks, and 
relaxing around the pool while watching the kids play. 
We ran out of soft drinks, so I went into the kitchen 
to get more. Janet followed me. Just as I was about to 
open the refrigerator door Janet walked by. She mouthed 
a kiss and winked. This time, I was the one who 
laughed.

"Forget it Jan, that shit doesn’t affect me anymore. 
Grow up."

That smile that I was so familiar with appeared on her 
face. She walked over to me and said. "You know what 
Eric? Whenever you and mom weren’t home, daddy and I 
would fuck our brains out." 

For some perverse reason, that did it. All the past 
unfulfilled desire flooded over me instantly. I grabbed 
her and kissed her passionately like in some stupid 
Clark Gable movie. She broke away and burst out 
laughing. I must have looked ridiculous.

"Yup, it sure doesn’t affect you anymore. Not in the 
least," she said, laughing. "By the way, could you do 
me a favor? It’s been a long time since I’ve given 
daddy a blowjob. Could you find an excuse to get 
everyone away from here for awhile? Perhaps bring 
everyone to the parade?" 

I looked out the window. My sixty-seven year old father 
was pushing my five year old daughter on the swing. 
They looked like a Norman Rockwell painting.

"If I do, will you fuck me?" I asked, not caring in the 
least that I would be cheating on my wife and 
participating in my mother’s betrayal.

"No way, you pathetic jerk," she said, laughing. "But 
don’t worry. We’ll find a way." 

The conversation ended right then when my son came into 
the kitchen, asking what was taking so long with the 
Coke.

I avoided Janet the rest of the day. That was last 
week. I’m home now but the obsession is back and it’s 
worse than it ever was. I don’t think it will ever go 
away. She’s all I think about. I would sacrifice 
everything I have to fuck her.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 33