Cumed In Teen Stepsister Pussy
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Cumed In Teen Stepsister Pussy
Dear Deidre MY fiancée walked in on me having sex with my sister. She’s now threatening to call the police.
I’m 25 and engaged to a beautiful girl. She is 26 and we met at work — we are both nurses.
My sister is 22. Our mum passed away five years ago and we’ve been extra close since then. Our dad works away during the week, while we both live at home.
My fiancée and I went to the cinema last month and when I got home my sister was crying in the front room in the dark.
She got laid off from her bank job a while ago and has taken it badly. I asked her what was wrong and she said: “I just feel so miserable. I’ve no job, no boyfriend and feel worthless.”
I cuddled her and said she was beautiful. I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her. It was supposed to be a peck but she kissed me back and my stomach turned somersaults.
As our hearts pounded, she said she felt something for me. We had sex in my bed. It felt so right. We made love a few times over the next few weeks.
Then last night we were in bed when the front door slammed. I raced to get my boxer shorts but the door swung open and my fiancée walked in glaring.
My sister burst into tears. My fiancée walked out and drove off but texted me saying: “You’re sick. I’m going to report you to the police.” I’m worried sick.
DEIDRE SAYS: You and your sister lost your mum when you were young and vulnerable, and your dad is only around at weekends. So it has allowed you and your sister to become too close, in the wrong sort of way.
Having sex with your sister is incestuous and illegal, but I hope your fiancée feels that reporting you to the police could bring down a lot of misery on everyone but help no one.
Tell your sister that you two must get back to a normal brother/sister relationship.
If she is depressed, tell your dad she needs more support. Start by talking it over with GetConnected, which helps under-25s with any problem ( getconnected.org.uk , 0808 808 4994). Talk to your fiancée again once she has had a chance to calm down.
If you still love one another it may be possible to move on from this – though that could well involve your moving out from home.
Dear Deidre I DON’T trust my boyfriend, though he doesn’t deserve it and can’t understand it. Should I tell him about my dad’s affair?
I’m 20 and my dad got a new company phone a year ago. Mum and I were transferring his data and there were photos of a naked woman and what appeared to be Dad’s legs.
Mum confronted Dad and he said his phone had belonged to somebody else in the office before him. I didn’t believe it and Mum later told me that he had an affair when I was little.
Now I don’t trust anyone. I constantly check up on where my boyfriend is.
We’ve been together for six months. He looks confused when I quiz him, as he’d do anything for me. He’s cancelled lads’ nights out to be with me.
I’m worried how he’d act to my dad if I spilled the beans.
DEIDRE SAYS: If you stay together I think you will end up sharing such an important part of your history, but now focus on separating your relationship from your parents’.
Your boyfriend loves you but making unreasonable demands based on insecurity will eat into your relationship.
My e-leaflet Coping With Jealousy will help you handle your feelings but for starters ask your boyfriend for a loving hug rather than demanding he miss seeing his mates.
Dear Deidre I’M addicted to masturbation and I’m not in control of my life any more.
I’m 22 and good-looking but haven’t had a girlfriend for two years. I cannot even meet friends on time because of the hours I spend trawling Facebook for any glimpse of flesh – which always leads to porn and masturbation. What can I do?
DEIDRE SAYS: You’ve taken the first step admitting there’s a problem.
You’re not alone. More people are trawling the net this way. It’s so tempting but won’t make you happy long-term.
You can find a free programme of self-help recovery at sexaddictionhelp.co.uk and I’m sending you my e-leaflet Hooked On Masturbation?
Dear Deidre I’M married with a lovely daughter but I feel lonely and unloved as my wife and I haven’t had sex since she got pregnant.
Our daughter is 18 months old and it’s as if my wife has got all she wants now – a child.
She used to be loving, though she had issues from her past. I’ve talked to her about sex and she says: “I will get there.” But she had a traumatic labour and I know she’s afraid it will hurt her.
I’ve told her we can just take things slowly. I just want to have a physical relationship – and I want to be loved, I guess.
DEIDRE SAYS: Giving birth can be a major trauma. Encourage your wife to see her GP for a check-up. She can ask for a referral to a gynaecologist if need be. She should be healing by now, though sheer fear of sex being painful can make you tense.
If everything is as it should be, ask her to agree to sharing a loving massage a couple of times a week, with the promise you won’t expect intercourse until she’s ready.
I’m sending e-leaflets Solving Sex Problems After A Baby and Massage For Couples.
Dear Deidre MY husband has bought me a car, decorated our house and taken me on a cruise – all because he had an affair.
He’s 42 and I’m 39. We have no children but we’ve been together for 20 years. I had no clue that he was having an affair until I got a call from his mistress.
He ended it immediately but I was so hurt. And now he says the guilt is eating him up inside.
I get days where I go into a panic thinking he’s cheating again – even though
I know he isn’t as he’s so much more relaxed these days and he even leaves his mobile lying around.
My friends say it’s all guilt money – but is it?
DEIDRE SAYS: Yes, probably, but does it really matter? He’s dealing with his guilt in the best way he knows – but he has to work on rebuilding the trust too.
All the cars and cruises won’t make up for the emotional hurt but try to remember why you fell in love in the first place.
If you have moments thinking of your husband with this woman try to think up a very happy memory you shared with him.
He’s back with you now and that is what matters.
Dear Deidre MY girlfriend is a fiery redhead and if she isn’t fighting with someone at work then it is with her dad or me.
I’m 26. She is 29 and a spoilt brat, if I’m honest.
She yelled at me once because she thought I’d overcooked her pizza.
She lives with her parents and they run around after her.
I had an interview last week and asked her for a lift into town as she had the day off. She went nuts at me but it wasn’t unreasonable to ask.
I know I should man up and tell her where to go.
I was adopted so I’m used to rejection but I’m terrified of being alone and I love her to bits.
DEIDRE SAYS: Sometimes we seek out relationships which reproduce familiar feelings.
You’ve found yourself a girlfriend who makes you feel rejected again and again – even over trivialities.
This is a miserable pattern. Please get some help to work through your feelings from After Adoption ( afteradoption.org.uk ,
0800 056 8578). Then you will feel stronger and so better able to stand up to your girlfriend Her parents may indulge her but you deserve her to behave more considerately – which she may do once she realises it’s that or lose
you.
Dear Deidre MY boyfriend and I are supposed to be moving in together this month but he has still not told his mum.
We are 24, met at university and house-shared for two years. Now we both live back home, 200 miles apart.
His dad died three years ago and his mum is very dependent on him. We tried to move in together once before but she said he’d not given her enough notice.
So it didn’t happen.
I know he will obey her if she says no. He’s my soul-mate but I am worried we won’t last because of her.
DEIDRE SAYS: Be wary of putting him under so much pressure that he end up feeling torn between you and his mum.
It’s doubtful his mum will ever reach the stage of happily letting go, so he must decide how long he’s going to allow this situation to continue.
If just walking out is too hard, he needs to make planned steps so she knows he is serious and is prepared when he finally leaves.
Helping her get a good social life of her own would be a good start. And of course say that she will be welcome to visit you regularly – not your ideal,
I realise, but only fair.
SOME of us quickly fly off the handle, some rarely lose their temper. But when they do, the red mist descends and anything can happen. Anger is damaging to relationships and it gets in the way of good parenting. My e-leaflet on
Anger Management can help you safeguard relationships and those close to you. Email problems@deardeidre.org .
EVERY problem gets a free personal reply.
Tell me what you think on my Facebook page today .
You can follow my life and sex tips on Twitter @deardeidre
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Home » Relationships » ‘I woke to feel my cousin’s hand under my nightie’
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From time to time, I spend the holidays with my mum’s elder sister and I used to get on well with my cousins. But early last year, I woke to feel the hand, of my eldest cousin under my nightie.
I was so frightened though curious that I pretended to still be sleeping. After this, he tried to have full sex with me, but I pushed him off. Then he started being very nice to me, introducing me to his friends and giving me presents.
I was having such a good time that when next he came to the guest room, I let him have sex with me. He now thinks he could do that any time he wants but I’ve told him to stop.
Recently, he’s been forcing me to have sex with him whether I like it or not. I enjoy the sex but I’m only 16 and he is my first cousin. How do I make him stop?
What you’re doing is incestuous. First you are not at all legally allowed to have any sexual relationships because of genetic problems it could bring, if pregnancy occurs. Moreover, you’re too young to be playing with adult emotions. You are having unprotected sex which could either result in unwanted pregnancy or sexually transmitted diseases.
You have to be firm with your cousin and put an end to this nonsense. Threaten you’ll tell his parents or yours if he doesn’t stop. When next he crawls into your bed at night, say no and mean it. Leave the room if need be.
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This experience is integrated into the fabric of my being, a bend in the road of my sexuality.
I am more than a survivor . I am resilient. I thrive in my life.
This event, being raped at 12 years old, was one turn in the long and winding road back to myself.
This is the story of how I lost my virginity against my will.
I was 12 years old, the summer before I turned 13.
I had recently moved in with my father, after years of conflict with my mother. It was early summer, nice enough to be outside but not oppressively hot. There was no camp or summer vacation for me that year. The summer was spent hanging out in the neighborhood, around the basketball court.
I was not particularly interested in making girlfriends in this new neighborhood. I was looking for thrills, excitement, cigarettes, attention—anything to keep me away from the pain of being me, of being alive. The intoxication of intrigue and sexual desire had already become a drug for me. I hadn’t had sex yet (other than a few kisses and childhood sex play with peers). The euphoria that I felt from obsessing about boys, fantasizing about sex, and being in love was satisfying my need to escape reality.
When this boy/man (let’s call him “Dicky”) talked to me and showed interest in me, the sensations in my body felt good. I felt good about being alive in that moment. He had never really paid attention to me before. He was older and sexy with his beautiful skin, thin, muscular body, and big lips. He had no heart, he was cold as ice, and this may have been the most attractive part of him.
I wanted to be that—cool and hard and invulnerable.
His attention gave me a little cred with the other kids at the basketball court because of his tough-guy reputation and his criminal enterprise. This attention and cred was giving me everything I thought I needed in life: the euphoria of attention and a place to belong.
My father was new to parenting, but he knew enough to give me a curfew (maybe 9 p.m.). As my curfew approached, I knew I wanted more of this good feeling—the perfect weather, the cigarettes and pot, the feeling of belonging and being special. I decided to ask my dad if I could stay out later.
I went in to find my dad and his friends sitting around on the floor playing cards. I asked him if I could go back out, and he said yes. One more hour.
I went back to the basketball court for more Marlboros and more of the good feelings. Too soon, my hour was up and it was time to go home again.
This time, Dicky walked home with me; my house was just a few blocks from the basketball court. My front door was actually a gate to an alleyway that led to a back apartment.
He kissed me at this gate. I woke up inside. I didn’t really like how wet his kisses were, but I liked being physically close to him and feeling his desire for me. I decided to ask for more time so I could get more of this. He waited at the gate for me while I went in to ask.
My dad and his friends were still sitting around on the floor playing cards. The apartment was filled with smoke. There were beer bottles, money, ashtrays, and cards arranged neatly around the circle.
My dad knew what I wanted. He was always seemed to know what was in my head. He said I could have one more hour.
As soon as I came back out, Dicky had his mouth on me. He was more forceful now, pushing me against the wall next to the gate. I felt the bricks pushing into my back.
I started to feel more conflicted now, not liking the way he pushed into me or his wet kisses that now felt almost like he was drooling on me. I was still enjoying the feeling of being touched in a way and feeling his desire for me. (I am not making a euphemism for his erection. I mean I enjoyed the energetic feeling of his desire for me.)
He whispered in my ear, “Do you want to get fucked?”
I liked the feeling of his hot breath in my ear, but I froze with fear, because I did not like the tone of his voice. I thought I liked sex (from my imagination, masturbation, and the games I had played as a little girl with my peers) and looked forward to playing with someone whom I loved.
I was pretty sure that’s not what he meant when he asked if I wanted to get fucked. I was pretty sure he wasn’t asking, either. I couldn’t speak.
He whispered, “Have you ever been fucked? I think you want to get fucked.”
Still I couldn’t answer. I was frozen with fear inside.
I know now that when the nervous system detects a life threat, there are three possible reactions: fight, flight, freeze, or some combination. At 12 years old, my nervous system had been habituated to freeze in the face of danger.
He was not really asking anyway; he didn’t need an answer . He had decided that he was going to fuck me no matter what my response was.
He started to lead me across the street, heading for a patch of grass behind the I-95. Moving my body snapped my mind back, and I knew I did not want to go with him. I turned to walk away from him, back to my apartment.
He grabbed my arm and yanked me back to him. He easily picked me up, holding my arms against my body and carrying me like a baby. I squirmed and kicked. Now my words came back.
The fear and the guilt and confusion set in, the defeat. The certainty that I had made a mistake and now I was going to pay for it. I once again froze.
He carried me to the hill behind the I-95. The highway was across from our house in Queen’s Village. We were literally four lanes away from where my father was winning at poker on our living room floor.
I don’t think I tried to run before he put me down the grass. I had surrendered to the guilt and defeat and was now in freeze-survival mode. He held me down with the weight of his body and his hands.
Then the panic returned, and I struggled to get free. He was crushing me with his body. He pulled my underwear down enough to get access and so that they became a restraint, holding my legs together so that I couldn’t kick him.
As he tried to push inside of me, it hurt and I felt as if I was suffocating from the inside out. I held him away with one hand I had free, but he was stronger than me. He just kept pushing into me.
I wasn’t strong enough to hold him back.
This is the part that remained the clearest in my memory. I have seen this memory from many angles over the last 34 years—sometimes crystal clear, sometimes opaque. The memory of my hand on his hip pushing him away, the feeling that my greatest effort was useless, has always been crystal clear. I prevented him from crushing me and from fully entering me, but not from penetrating me and totally overpowering me.
Eventually, it was over. He came on my belly. It was the most disgusting thing I had ever seen in my life.
I made my way home, stunned, dazed, crushed. Full of guilt, remorse, shame. I walked into my house to find it empty.
This empty house was and has been a defining moment in my life. My father and I were close emotionally. I believe that if he had been home that he would have known something was wrong, and he would have been my father. Dicky would be dead or in jail. Probably dead.
As it was, I was left alone to integrate this experience in such a way that I could survive and go on. I took a shower and went to bed.
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