My Brother Erin

Okay, let's get right to it. I like men. I always have and from the very start. I like what they can do to a woman. I liked it my first time. I like everything about their cocks, their shapes, their variety; the way they grow large getting ready for me; the way they feel deep in my pussy; the surge of fluids flowing inside me. I like a man's balls, sometimes loose and dangling between his legs, sometimes tight and round. There's nothing not to like about a man except maybe when he cums too soon.

My psychiatrist says my craving for sex is unhealthy. I don't agree. She says my desire for sex was caused by family circumstances while I was growing up. The shrink believes that my father's untimely death is at the root of the problem. "What problem?" I asked. I don't see it that way. The truth is, I became sex-obsessed as soon as youthful hormones began flowing like Niagara Falls. The way I look at it is that I have some natural impulses that surfaced soon after watching a movie.

The movie was "Lolita." You could say it was a motivational movie. It was then, at sixteen, that I had stepped out of childhood and decided to become my step dad's Lolita. Maybe my therapist and Sigmund Freud have it right. I have an obsessive-compulsive disorder that I absolutely adore.

I don't remember most of the actors, but I remember Dominique Swain as Lolita. I watched that movie over and over trying to remember each of her moves, every facial expression, and the seductive things she said. Sometimes I'd watch and masturbate until falling asleep in a pool of my own juices.

Of course, my intention was to fuck my step-dad, not because he was handsome or sexy, but because I wanted to be like Lolita. I wanted to be Lolita. At first, I didn't feel confident enough to seduce dad like in the movie, so I set my sights on my step-brother. He was seventeen at the time, a year older than me. In the beginning, it was as if I didn't exist in his eyes. He ignored me, so it was time for Plan B.

I walked around the house in pajamas with a loose fitting spaghetti strap top, cut above my navel and very short bottoms. Those bottoms just crawled up my pussy leaving little to the imagination. Of course, the ensemble didn't include underwear. Although I wasn't completely filled out, my boobs were more and more like a woman's every day. It was hard for him not to notice what was under my P.J.s.

I wasn't trying to be noisy, but I knew Erin, my stepbrother, was jacking off from the soft low guttural sounds coming from his bedroom. I took advantage of the situation and walked in on him one night. He was totally embarrassed and tried to cover up. I was lucky. He hadn't cum and was still hard. I just smiled and wrapped my fingers around his cock. "You might need a little help with this," I said. He took a pillow and covered his face as if to hide while I finished the job.

It was a spectacular demonstration of male potency with his cock spewing hot creamy cum like an Old Faithful eruption. I never would have imagined there could be so much pressure behind the geyser. What I learned from that episode was, don't get too close unless you are in need of a facial. But that would have to come later.

Although Erin was shy and embarrassed the first time, he wasn't bashful for long. I was in his bedroom a few days later polishing his candlestick and giving him a look at my tits. A week after that he wanted me naked and a blowjob. I was all too happy to do what he wanted because it was what I wanted too.

One of the reasons Erin and I had so much quality time together was that mom was a flight attendant, and dad was frequently out of town on business. Erin and I took advantage of each and every opportunity to be together. He would suck my tits and play with my pussy. I gave him blowjobs. At first, I didn't swallow, but then it just seemed natural to let it disappear down my throat. He tried to go deeper each time until finally, and it took several weeks, he deep throated me without my usual coughs and gags.

We continued like that for a while, then I asked him to suck my pussy, but that meant that I had to teach him how to pleasure a girl. First, I demonstrated by masturbating. He caught on fast. Erin soon learned to give great head with me as the coach, providing me with frequent orgasms and endless pleasure. But then, I was giving him pleasure too.

One night when our parents were out to dinner and a movie, Erin and I decided to do some taste testing at their bar. We each had shots of scotch, then vodka, rum, and bourbon. He liked the scotch best. My favorite was rum. We were both higher than a kite when he picked me up and threw me on my bed. That was my first time, and maybe his as well. Erin wasn't exactly experienced. He had his pants around his knees and ripped off my panties and looked for an opening. It wasn't elegant or loving as he fumbled around to get his cock in. I kind of helped.

What I remember was a rush of gratification that was so much better than masturbating, especially feeling his throbbing pulsing cock inside me when he came. He didn't say anything or stay with me. Erin just pulled up his pants and ran off to his room. I just laid on my bed dizzy with a warm wet feeling between my legs.

The next time was very different. We spent time playing with each others' bodies before getting to the culmination of our foreplay. From then on, Erin came prepared with condoms and more than one was needed. Over the next month, he got better at his self-control, and I found new ways and positions to satisfy us both. He seemed to like the variety as well.

Along with being creative, I was learning to use his cock to satisfy my hunger in new ways. No longer did I squander his precum on my tongue, but found it was a great lubricate when he rubbed my slit and clit with the tip of his beautiful cock head. I wasn't just enjoying sex, sex was a fixation.

Six months went by and I still wasn't Lolita. I had perfected her body language and innocent voice but hadn't reached my objective. With Erin, it only took a certain glance, and he knew I wanted it. We would get home from school, I'd give him the look, and we were off to one of our bedrooms fucking each others' brains out.

But nothing lasts forever. Erin left for college in August of that year. By then, I was more confident and knew I was ready to seduce Dad. The weather was still hot, so to step things up with my step-dad, Walter, I pranced around the house wearing my tiniest bikini. I'm positive that having sex with Erin was the reason my breasts developed so quickly, in fact, so fast they began to hurt. The swimsuit exposed them just short of being naked and the string bottom covered just enough for Walter to notice my plump pussy lips. When I wasn't wearing the bikini, I'd walk around with only a bra and panties. He was noticing.

I was so horny most days, now that Erin was away, that I could have fucked a toad. It was time to push the envelope further.

My Daddy Walter

Walter and I were watching TV when I was wearing the shortest skirt I owned with a thong underneath and a large wet spot that I hoped was evident. At a commercial break, while he was looking my way, I slowly crossed my legs so that he was sure to notice. It was all but an invitation for him to fuck me. He accepted a few days later.

It finally happened when Mom was working on an international flight. She wouldn't be home for a week. Dad was doing some work in his office so when I got home from school, he and I were alone. On this memorable day, he called me into his office as soon as I arrived after cheerleading practice. "Sit down, Nikki, we need to talk."

The timing was perfect. I was wearing my cheerleading outfit with a short skirt that wasn't designed to keep a girl warm. I sat across from him, opening my legs far enough for him to enjoy the view. "You have turned into a very pretty woman, Nikki. I'm sure the boys at school are crazy about you. I know I am. Does that sound naughty to you?"

"No," I said. "I like you too, daddy. I like you very much."

"Come over here and sit on my lap."

I tried to stay calm. For a moment, I pretended to be confused and unsure of what he was asking me to do. Actually, my heart was beating out a tune in triple time. When I sat on his lap. daddy's bulge was so hard it felt like sitting on a stone. I turned and kissed him, gently at first like a daughter. Then he kissed me back, but not tenderly like a father. I gave him my whole mouth. He responded in kind.

Daddy pulled up my blouse and unhooked my bra. His hands were all over my tits. "Jesus, Nikki, you've become a sexy woman."

His lips were sucking my nipples that felt like an electric current running straight down between my legs where his strong hand found the soft folds of my slit. I slowly spread my thighs letting him feel my wetness with his pussy finger.

I held his arm like a little girl when he took me into the master bedroom. "Let me show you something, Nikki. Look in the closet and pick out one of your mom's nighties. I think they'll fit and don't be shy about the one you choose."

I knew what he meant. He wanted me to put on one of Mom's sexiest negligees. I didn't bother to change in the bathroom. I just stripped and put on the thinnest gown I could find. It goes without saying that I was essentially naked except for a little lace on translucent satin hiding very little of my body.

Dad was reclining, stretched out naked on the bed with his hands behind his head and his legs splayed far apart. He reminded me of the Barberini Faun sculpture I had seen in a National Geographic article on Roman statues. Unlike the satyr, dad had a broad smile and a hard-on standing straight up like a rocket ready to be launched.

He looked so amazing, so relaxed, and so ready to punch my ticket when he said, "You're beautiful, Nikki. Sit over here." My heart was in my mouth when I sat on the edge of the bed facing away from him pretending not to notice. Then he asked, "Have you had some experience with boys?"

"Oh daddy, I don't know. What do you mean?"

"What do you know about sex? Have you had sex with a boy?"

If he only knew, I thought. "The boys always want that daddy," I said with my practiced Lolita voice.

"Yes, but are you a virgin?"

"Oh daddy, that's so embarrassing," I said innocently. "Let's not talk. Show me what you want."

"I want you, Nikki. I want you to be my lover. I've wanted you since you blossomed into a lovely woman. You understand that don't you, Nikki?"

"I think so, daddy," and looked up at him with my thumb on my lips like a shy naive girl that I wasn't.

"What I want is to have a special relationship, something that is outside the ordinary father-daughter relationship. I think you are aware of it and want it as much as I do. Having said that, I would very much appreciate it if you are tight-lipped with your mom about anything we do together. If you even hint at us hooking up, I will deny it and call you a liar. You'll be grounded forever. Do you understand?"

I giggled and said, "You mean we are going to keep everything a secret from mom?"

"Yes. If you can't do that, you better leave this room now." He said it with such authority that it was like a gust of wind on a flame that flickered and almost went out. I wasn't about to let that happen.

I said, "Of course I can, daddy," and gave him a deep kiss with my hand squeezing his cock.

He murmured louder when I stroked him, then slurped up his precum and put his cock down my throat.

"Oh, oh, oh. Don't stop," he begged.

I couldn't go on. I had to stop knowing he would soon cum without his dick inside me, so I moved forward and sat on his face. His lips and tongue made me moan with delight. It was time to become his Lolita.

From then on, it was an orgy of sex. He turned me on my back, pushed up the nightgown and helped himself inside my snatch. He was bigger than his son and gave me no end of pleasure. Before he came, he turned me over on all fours and fucked me from behind. Still holding back, he had me enthusiastically and noisily riding on top before he splashed several loads of his seed deep into my cunt. My orgasms were sufficient evidence that I was just as gratified as he was.

"You are on the pill?" he said like a question.

"No. Should I?"

"I think so. From what I can tell, it's pretty obvious you weren't a virgin. I figure you've been having sex with your boyfriend or boyfriends. Isn't that right?"

"Only a couple of times, daddy." I lied. I wasn't about to tell him my boyfriend was his son.

"Tomorrow I'll call my friend at the club. He's a doctor and he'll write you a prescription."

I had been on the pill for about two weeks when we did it in the rec room over the pool table. Dad just bent me over the table, pulled up my skirt, pulled down my panties and went in. That was really hot. I loved being taken like that and in such a powerful display of lust. Okay, he was a little rough and banged in really hard, but my squeals of joy sounding like the moans and cries of a humpback whale made it clear that I'd never think of the pool table in the same way again.

So whenever mom was away, well, we slept together until she was scheduled to come home. Except, one time she was home early or we had her schedule wrong. She arrived at an inconvenient moment. It was after a good time that dad and I had just finished. Then it became a bad time when she caught us. When your mom is staring at you with her husband's cum dripping down your thighs, it's hard to say, "Mom, it's not what you think." It was exactly what she thought.

It was not a pretty sight. There was lots of screaming and shouting and some words that are only suited for locker rooms. This free-for-all didn't end my affair with Dad, it only slowed us for a while until I left for college.

The College Years

College was a blur of one night stands. Most were forgettable except when my friend and I decided to dress up as prostitutes at a fraternity Halloween party. We thought it was funny. The frat brothers took us seriously, more so than we had expected, and we went along with it. Before it was over, my girlfriend was at one end of the room doing a sixty-nine with one guy and a second fucking her from behind. I was not far behind with one of the brother's cock down my throat and a second boring into my pussy with his very effective reaming tool. We decided to dress like nuns in the future.

I'll never forget the French professor who was on sabbatical from the Sorbonne and taught a class in French literature at our college. He was twenty years my senior but fucked like a much younger man. He wasn't a one night stand since I lived with him for six months my sophomore year until he went back to Paris. He showed me the best French wines and delighted in cooking gourmet dinners. In bed, he taught me the finer points of the French language. My French lessons often lasted late into the night.

One night in my junior year, my date and I had been drinking so we called Uber. I fucked the guy in the back seat of the Uber van while the driver drove us home. A few days later, the same driver called and wanted a date. He must have been in his fifties but that was okay. He reminded me of my step-dad. What he wanted was to screw me in his van. The man wasn't handsome, but he had a cock as hard and thick as a baseball bat.

Although I found time for class, I didn't graduate with academic honors. I graduated with a degree in social services, the kind in which I excelled. I liked living in the college town and stayed taking a job at the local bank.

After graduation, I inherited a lot of money from my dad's estate. His will stated I'd get everything at twenty-one if my mom remarried, so money wasn't the reason I took a job at the bank. It kept me busy when I wasn't screwing some guy who took me home as his trophy fuck.

The Bank's Vice-president, Daryl

Daryl was one of those. He was the bank's vice-president who took a liking to me. He was a sports fanatic so when he had an extra ticket, I'd go with him to football, baseball or basketball games. He knew a lot of the players, so it was always fun and exciting to be with him. Daryl was married, so it was only an occasional night out when he wasn't with clients or his wife.

That changed when he said he was going to Louisville for the Kentucky Derby, and wanted me to go with him. I wasn't sure that was going to work with his wife and told him so. He said they were separated and on their way to a divorce. I believed him and had a great time at the races. It was in Louisville that we got better acquainted, intimately acquainted. He was just as exciting and adventurous in bed as he was at the races or at a football game.

Soon after Louisville, I moved to an apartment near his house. It was a more convenient location to carry on our affair. Daryl's wife was delaying the divorce claiming abuse, adultery, and everything else she could think of to get more money out of him. When the divorce was finalized, Daryl moved in with me. We went to the Super Bowl and the World Series all in the year after his divorce. Daryl proposed to me during March Madness after we watched Duke beat Virginia in the finals. We married two months later.

Our marriage was working out fine at first. We bought a nice respectable home with a nice respectable picket fence in a nice respectable suburb with my dad's money. Daryl knew I loved sex, and so did he. He never got enough of my pussy, and I never got enough of his cock. It was a match made in heaven, so to speak. We never stopped trying new ways to play with each other, then later with some of his buddies. Daryl turned out to be the sharing type, like wife sharing.

This is what I mean: Daryl is a competitive man and I suppose that's why he's into sports. So, he ran monthly poker games at our house with friends. He invited three or four men to play for high stakes poker. He thought it would be better if I would be there as hostess and dress in a risqué French Maid's costume. He thought it would distract the other players giving him a better chance to win. It actually worked for a while until someone came up with another idea. They would play for me.

At first, I didn't know about it until one of the men, who I'd never had met before, took my hand leading me into our bedroom. He said he was the Turkey Shoot winner. Of course, I didn't know what that was until we were in our bedroom. He just said, "Every man at the table wanted to get a turn at you tonight. Your husband gave the impression that you might like the idea. At least, he didn't object when we played a poker hand and I won."

"That rat. It's not that I mind so much, but he could have told me."

"So you're good with this?" the man asked.

I was interested and said, "Sure. Show me what you can do and make it better than what Daryl's been doing lately."

He was a gorgeous looking black man, black as coal, and it was the first time I had a black cock. We spent almost an hour together. By that time everyone but Daryl had left the house. I took a shower and waited for Daryl. He wanted to know if the guy was a good fuck. I told him his pal was a terrific lover because he was. He asked if I'd do it again. To make him jealous, I said, "Of course!" That turned him on like I hadn't seen since our honeymoon. We were so busy screwing that night, we didn't get to sleep until dawn.

The next month they played the Turkey Shoot again with a different winner. After that, they called it Pokeher Night. Soon it occurred to them that they could play the Turkey Shoot more than once a night. I did two guys at first, then three, and finally I did every poker player at the table except for Daryl who enjoyed being the voyeur and the photographer. The last time they played Turkey Shoot, it ended in a tie. I wasn't surprised it meant a DP. I'm sorry there weren't any more ties.

But heaven has a way of raining on your parade. From then on I told Daryl that as far as I was concerned, we had an open marriage, and I was making myself available to other men. By then, we had been married for five years with no children. Daryl wanted kids. I didn't. We started fighting over having kids and the open marriage idea until one day he walked out and filed for divorce. As luck would have it, the very next day I ran into Skip at the drug store. Skip and I worked together at the bank for a couple of years. We agreed to catch up over lunch.

My Friend Skip

We sat and talked for hours in a quiet booth at Carrabba's Italian Restaurant. Skip isn't Hollywood handsome or as wealthy as Daryl, but comfortable to be around. One thing I really like about Skip is his sense of humor. He's also a good listener and was always supportive. We had plenty to talk about. He patiently heard why my marriage was in the toilet, and I even told him about my open marriage as an inducement for him to consider me as more than a friend. I even threw in a tear or two. It seemed to have worked because Skip asked me to dinner the next night.

We arranged for him to pick me up at seven. He took me to a fondue restaurant that was a lot of fun. It was the first time he kissed me. I think he was surprised when I passionately kissed him back with my hand between his legs. It was just the beginning.

I invited him to my house when he was free. He said Friday night was good because his wife was with the girls for a game of bridge. "Would Friday me okay?" he asked. Friday was fine. That's when we started a routine that was great while it lasted.

Skip arrived a few minutes after seven on a wintry Friday night. He was shaking, and it wasn't the cold. He was nervous, and I was horny. We had a drink then went for a roll in the hay, but it wasn't hay. We played around like new lovers often do, then we tested the firmness of the mattress by bouncing around like in a stagecoach on a rocky road. We found the mattress to be in perfect condition for what we were doing. Having had no sex for over a month, no cock ever felt better than his.

Soon after eight-thirty that night, we dressed and went for dinner. Around ten, he had recovered from our earlier workout and took me home for a second round. I told him, "This time, maybe you can take more than twice as long doing to me what you did to me before dinner." We finished by midnight when he went home to his wife.

This was the routine we followed for three or four months. He is a virtuoso of cunnilingus. His technique is like a chef sampling the menu before dinner. Sometimes I get to trembling so vehemently, Skip has to take a time out and suck on my nipples that only increased the burning desire inside me. When we finally get around to fucking, I'd already had more orgasms than a girl could possibly wish for, but I found myself unsatisfied. It wasn't Skip's fault. The trouble is, once a week just isn't enough, so I began browsing the Internet without canceling Skip's Friday visits.

Internet Hookups

Social media on the Internet is amazing. There something for everyone there. At first, I checked the dating sites and hooked up with a couple of "unattached" men. That didn't necessarily mean single because of the five men I met, three were married looking for a "relationship." I'm good at relationships of that kind and ended up in bed with two of them. The occasional unmarried guys were looking for a long term arrangement, mostly the marriage kind. I wasn't ready for a second marriage. Casual sex and a one night stand suited me better. That's where Adult Friend Finder came into the picture. It was my main hookup site but not the only one.

I was meeting some losers and some really interesting men. A couple knew how to please a woman but one was above the others. His name is Andrusha or Andrei. What I like the best about him is he has none of the conventional etiquettes. When we met for the first time, he didn't wait to take me to dinner like the others. Andrei just took me to his house and said, "I'll fuck you first, then we'll see if you are worthy of a dinner." Imagine, having to fuck for dinner! I just laughed and let him have me any way he wanted. He was rough, very rough with me but I didn't mind. After all, dinner was at stake, and I only had his cum as an appetizer! We had dinner at a Russian restaurant.

Our next liaison was at his house for a party, but not a traditional cocktail party. It looked to be the kind of place where there would be no limits on pleasure. By the time I arrived, the party was in full swing. The music was loud, and there were women half naked, even young girls, some not much beyond high school age. There were a dozen men, mostly Russian, some with their pants down around their knees. Half the time I didn't know what they were saying because they spoke Russian more often than English. Andrei gave me a shot of vodka and a reefer. It quickly got me wanting to sample more than Russian vodka.

A very unpleasant looking individual wearing more gold than on King Tut's sarcophagus put his arms around me, pressing his lips on mine and shoving his tongue down my throat while mauling my breasts. I pushed him off, but not because I didn't enjoy the attention. I just didn't enjoy doing it with him.

Andrei came up to me saying that wasn't the way to act. "He's Solntsevskaya Bratva, our brotherhood boss. His name is Boris. I'd recommend you be nice to Boris. Is that clear?" he said with an intimidating voice.

"Very!" I answered.

I understood what "Boris the boss" meant and what Andrei meant by nice, but I didn't know anything about Solntsevskaya Bratva. Andrei slowly made his way over to Boris, took him aside and whispered something in his ear. It turns out that Boris is the kingpin of the Russian syndicate.

Boris took me and a girl to a bedroom on the second floor where we were to be "nice." He had us strip and lay on the bed. She was a cute blond and about seventeen with firm pointed breasts and erect nipples. She looked so young, so vulnerable, but she wasn't either naive or shy.

Boris was mostly undressed and only had to step out of his pants to be as naked as the two of us with whom he was prepared to fuck. The man's body was so filled with tattoos I wondered if his penis had been decorated too. It might have been the only piece of skin that wasn't. After he told the girl something in Russian, she went down on me, providing an amazing amount of pleasure from a girl so young. Boris had his cock and balls above my head. His balls were like two plums on steroids.

A foreign language interpreter wasn't needed to tell me what he wanted. I blew him until he was rock hard, then everyone changed positions. Boris stretched my legs apart and pushed them over his broad shoulders while the girl had her pussy in my face.

Like Andrei, he was rough with me, and I had grown to like it, especially his bull size dick that felt snug, warm and vigorous. The young girl was wet from my licking her clit and fingering her tight hole when Boris pulled her to him and sunk his cock into her tender young cunt.

Eventually, he pulled out and sprayed his cum over both of our faces. The girl must have been there and done that before because she licked his cum off my face. Then Boris pushed my head down making me do the same for her. He left the room as if a fire alarm had gone off only to be replaced by another man a couple of minutes later. When number two finished with us, a third man gave us his undivided attention. Before the night was over, I had sex with five different men. one finished in my ass.

It wasn't a bad evening. It's just that I had a hangover, not from the vodka but from an excess of sex. I was feeling sore the next day and had to call Skip to cancel. I just told him I wasn't feeling well, which of course was true.

Andrei's party turned out to be much more than I had anticipated. Before the evening was over, I had learned something about Solntsevskaya Bratva. It is a powerful crime syndicate that takes a bleak view of failure or resistance. It's the Russian mafia. Instead of one husband or one Friday lover, I now had assembled a stable of comrades keeping me and the mafia happy whenever I'm in the mood. It's apparent to them that I am frequently in the mood. No longer am I browsing the Internet. In a way, the Internet has come to me.

Sure, I've become the mob's moll, but unknown to them, a government mole as well. Who would have guessed that I would be serving my country as an undercover operative because of my considerable experience with men?