Pregnant Porn Blog

one carried. The first touch of her fingers on my pussy was the
most glorious moment of my life. I soared. I loved it. And I can
feel those same feelings today as though it just happened. (I’ve
since learned that a man’s touch is very different from a
woman’s. I like the firm, strong touch of a man, but the soft,
sensual touch of a woman is special.)
She told me how exciting it was to have a boy squeeze your
breasts (outside your clothes, of course!). As I became more and
more excited, I fondled the spongy orbs I’d envied for so long.
What a thrill: the softness, the fullness and the obvious
pleasure it gave her. It seemed natural to kiss and suck them,
and I did both while I humped against her hand. Her big, hard
nipple was in my mouth when I moaned through my first orgasm.
That was the beginning, and I could write two pages on the
beautiful feelings of that first time.
I really feel fortunate about all of this. Most of my friends
took years to learn how to orgasm. But with Kathy’s hand and
words of encouragement and reassurance (I got scared when I
started to lose control) I was able to learn right away. Today I
orgasm easily and often. In college I became multi-orgasmic.
We were two very horny young ladies, thrilled with discovery
and the wonderful, delicious feelings of being naughty. Over the
next few weeks we progressed to breast play, mutual masturbation
and finally pussy licking. I flipped out over having my pussy
licked. Kathy did it to me first, and I went through the ceiling.
I could hardly wait to return the favor. What a wonderfully
sensual feeling!
Today I simply love to lie between a woman’s thighs with the
smooth wetness of her cunt around my tongue and lips as I gaze up
between her breasts to watch her passion. At any rate, it was a
heady time. We were at each other every chance we could safely do
so. We thought up all kinds of games to play, and even
experimented with fruits and veggies.

(I knew I was going to get in trouble, Lori. My pussy is
practically dripping with excitement. I’ve taken my shirt off to
sit on so I don’t stain the chair. The vibrations are up on my
Butterfly, and I’m back to typing one-handed. My breasts and
nipples wanted too much attention. I’m afraid I may have to take
that orgasm break before long. This letter might take forever!)

Our little brother was two years younger than I. (I guess he
still is, isn’t he?) His cock had been a fixation for me ever
since I was twelve. I didn’t know why. I just knew I was
constantly curious about it. When we were wrestling, I could
sometimes feel it–and sometimes feel it hard. I was forever
trying to catch him in the act of dressing or undressing so I
could see it. And I was always trying to spy on him when he was
in the bathroom. But he was always so private that I couldn’t see
it–which, of course, made me want to see it all the more!
As I began to develop, I began teasing him to see if I could
make it hard. I’d sit so he could see my panties or stand in
front of the light so he could almost see through my nightie.
Sometimes I’d leave my door open when I changed clothes, then act
surprised and mad when he saw me partially naked. Or I’d leave
the bathroom door cracked when I took a shower in case he wanted
to peek.
It was exciting to watch his reactions. Part of the thrill was
testing out my powers as a young woman. It seems he had a hard-on
all the time, and I knew I frequently caused it. Sometimes I’d
stand outside his bedroom door and listen to him jerk-off. Of
course, I didn’t know what he was doing, but it was something he
wasn’t suppose to do. And that made it more exciting.
(That’s it. I can’t take this any longer. Time for a break!)
(Well, it’s another day. One orgasm wasn’t enough yesterday.
And after the second, I was too wiped out to continue. Today I
thought I’d try one of my soft dildos while I type. There’s no
vibration, but I like the fullness. This is fun, getting naughty
with you, Lori.)
Well, back to the story. After about six months of playing
around with each other, Kathy and I decided to get Scott. By then
she’d touched her boyfriend’s cock when they’d made out, and
she’d told me all about it. I’d told her about Scott, too, so
we’d both been teasing him. And she told me what he was doing in
his room. One night Mom and Dad were gone, so we put our plan
into action. We really teased him that night while we watched TV.
We wrestled with him in our nighties so he could “accidentally”
touch us, and we really sat “sloppily.” Then, when he went to
bed, we waited outside his door until we heard the bedsprings
squeaking.
At that, we rushed in and turned on the light. Sure enough, he
was laying on his back, his hand wrapped around his little
pecker. You should have seen his face, Lori! At first he was
really mad at us, but Kathy got him calmed down and told him we’d
take all our clothes off for him if he’d show us what he was
doing. I was so hot from just seeing his cock that all I could do
was stand there and shake. God, it was so exciting! After we
watched him pump himself for awhile, Kathy said she’d let him
touch her breasts if she could touch his prick. I could take that
for only so long before I had to get into the act. Kathy showed
me how to jerk him off, and I made him shoot all over the place.
Now that I really loved! And at that age, of course, they never
get soft, so we kept playing until we heard Mom and Dad drive in.
As long as we lived at home, the three of us had each other
for love, comfort and fun. Eventually we taught Scott how to play
with us and eat us, and we learned to suck him off. That’s where
we drew the line, but we had hours and hours of loving fun. I
like to think Kathy and I taught Scott how to be a superior
lover, but I suppose I’ll never know. Once each of us left home,
the subject never came up again.

The only feelings I’ve ever had about all of that are Good and
Wonderful. I’ve read where incest is suppose to make people feel
dirty and become anti-social. It’s hard for me to relate to that
because I did well in school, was popular and never felt dirty at
all. No one will ever convince me that what we did was wrong– it
was too good to be bad. It brought us closer together, and
there’s always been lots of love. Although we agreed to stop at
oral sex, I’ll admit I wanted Scott in me very badly. I wanted
him to take my virginity; I still think it would have been better
and more loving if he had. But I’ll admit I don’t think about the
social issues anymore. I’ve spent half my life worrying about my
sexuality and the other half saying, “Who cares?”
What I do in my bedroom is my business. I know I don’t fit any
of the “This Is A Woman” molds. By any standard I’ve ever seen,
I’m definitely over-sexed. I have strong exhibitionist
tendencies, which fits the mold. But I’m also very visually
oriented, and have a strong voyeuristic streak, as well. That
doesn’t fit the mold. Sexual guilt is almost foreign to me, and
I’m more drawn to adventure than security in sexual matters.
So I don’t know where I fit in, but I don’t worry about it too
much. I know that other than the emptiness and loneliness of life
without a woman since I’ve been married, I’ve had a much richer,
fuller and happier sex life than most women ever will.

That first incident with Scott began my life-long obsession
with cocks. I’m an inveterate crotch watcher, wondering what’s
behind the zipper, what it looks like, how it feels and things
like that. Each size and shape has it’s own special attraction,
but I love them all. I love the way they look, the way they feel
in me, on me and in my hand and mouth. I love their taste and
their texture. And I love their warm cum in my mouth or on my
face and breasts. One of my favorite fantasies is to be naked on
my knees, surrounded by 5 or 6 naked sixteen or seventeen year-
old boys. I could go around the circle, giving each a nice, long
suck; then lie back and watch them jerk off until they splash hot
cream all over my body. I know my chance of ever having that
happen is gone, but oh, do I love the fantasy!
As bitter as I sometimes get with my husband’s closed-
mindedness about bisexuality, I’m grateful for his understanding
of my love of cocks. Every once in awhile he arranges a 3-some
with another man. Have you ever done that, Lori? Those are such
wonderful times for me. The “discovery” of a new cock. Two cocks
to play with. And the devoted attentions of two men. I always
feel so female and so special. And I love my husband all the more
for it.
Well, another book and still not enough questions asked of
you. I can’t believe how good it feels to be able to talk like
this with someone. Maybe now that I’ve blurted all of this out we
can move on to a better correspondence.
Write soon, Lori.

Horny for you,
Carla