Sister Pee Stories

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Sister Pee Stories


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I've always looked to the women in my life for clues about what they wanted me to be
by Rob Freedman | Friday, October 13, 2017
The Night My 77-Year-Old Father Was Taken to Jail
The scenario I'd feared since his release from a psychiatric hospital became reality when he attacked my mother
She's Not There: My Mother Boycotted My Wedding
My mom boycotted my wedding. Will I ever be able to forgive her?

Sister Vs. Sister: No Hate Runs Deeper Than Sibling Rivalry
My Mother Was A Sex Worker, Here's What She Taught Me About Sex
My mother knew men loved her, desired her and would give whatever they had to be with her
A sincere apology and its acceptance is all about the same thing — everlasting love
An old boyfriend's apology allowed me to finally forgive myself
PART OF WILD SKY MEDIA | LIFESTYLES ©2019 Wild Sky Media. All Rights Reserved.
I'll admit it, I was a dumb kid. Always getting into trouble, always poking my nose into places it shouldn't have been poked. In our house in Philadelphia, all the bedrooms were on the third floor. The first floor was my father's office and waiting room. Dad was a doctor, a general practitioner. Everybody in our neighborhood came to him. The second floor was our living room and kitchen and dining room and Bubba's room (Dad's mother). She was tucked in behind the dining room, kind of a secret. There were three bedrooms upstairs: my parents', my sister Linda's, and the one my brother Paul and I shared.
The third floor was where our lives felt most intimate—and most frightening. It was rare for me to see my father upstairs. He wouldn't come to bed until all of us kids were tucked away and silent. Dad didn't take part in the intimacies of family interaction. I would have been amazed to see my father in any other state than fully, formally dressed. But it was different with Mom. Many times I would be able to look at her in various stages of undress. I have some pretty vivid (and scary) memories of seeing her naked. A boy doesn't forget this. Even when the pretense is that there's nothing out of the ordinary going on here.
I remember Mom's large pendulous breasts and the jutting brown nipples. I tell you, it didn't sit easy with me. It wasn't that I was attracted or repelled, it felt more like I was being slapped around with those things. Though I couldn't have articulated the thought, I felt like Mom was purposely displaying herself. What was I supposed to do?
There were other incidents on the third floor that seemed (in reflection) also sexually charged. My introduction to what and who women are. The answers to which seemed to be: A) unknowable and B) dangerous. Earliest sexual memory from the third floor: taking baths with my sister while being attended to by Mom. Why sexual? I'm sure I was no older than 6 or 7, which would have made my sister 9 or 10. Pre-sexual, perhaps. I mean, I didn't get a hard-on or anything. But my sister sitting behind me, her legs straddling my smooth-as-stone little body, the water warm, Mom bending in to scrub us briskly with fragrant soap; something was going on, something that felt really good.
But I also knew that they could turn on me in a second, especially if I acted like I was enjoying myself too much. Either Mom or Linda could move from comforter to tormentor in half a second. It was here that I first began to understand what seemed to be the keystone of my training. Mainly, that the only way to operate in the world without being hurt was to be very careful, to contain my feelings and to look desperately for clues from the women in my life as to what they wanted me to be.
At a certain age, I was banished from the communal bathtub and from my sister's bedroom, where up until then, my brother and I would be occasionally allowed to climb into her big fluffy bed and snuggle under the covers. My banishment must have coincided with the onset of her puberty, though it may have been earlier. Don't get the wrong idea. My sister and I were never friends. At best, she tolerated me. And then she didn't. So I took to looking through keyholes.
Whenever I heard my sister go into the upstairs bathroom, making certain no one else was around, I would sneak down the hall, avoiding stepping on the boards that squeaked, kneel down in front of the bathroom door, squeeze one eye shut and peer in at her through the keyhole. These were old-fashioned doors with large key slots, from which the keys had long since disappeared. What did I want? It wasn't sexual. Not really. I didn't want to have sex with my sister, god knows. But I can't say I wasn't stimulated by what I saw through that tiny view. It was my sister's dark shock of pubic hair that most fascinated me. I was entranced. I mean, what was that thing? I could squat there by the door, barely breathing, for as long as she stayed in that room. And since my sister would often take a book with her, I could be stuck there for as long as half an hour. It was in this position that my mother caught me.
"What the hell are you doing?" It was as if she had materialized from the air. She didn't wait for an answer. "You filthy little thing." She grabbed me by the shoulder and toppled me over backward.
"What's going on?" my sister yelled from the other side of the door.
"Nothing," Mom shouted back. "Your brother was just spying on you."
"What!" I heard the toilet flush. "That is so disgusting," she screamed.
I tried a weak lie, desperate. "I just wanted to know when she was getting out. I had to go."
"Go to your room," Mom said. "You know I'm going to have to tell your father about this."
"No, please don't, Mom. It was a mistake. I'll never do it again. I swear."
"No, I have to tell him. This is a sick thing. There's something very wrong with you, boy."
My sister banged open the door from inside and then she too was standing above me, the two of them staring down at disgusting me. I scrambled up until I was sandwiched between them, confused and scared and filled with a deep shame. "Don't tell Dad," I begged again. "Please!"
"What did you see?" my sister asked.
"Nothing," I said. "I wasn't even looking at you."
"Don't be a liar on top of everything else," Mom said.
"My own brother is a sex maniac. How am I supposed to live here now?"
"We'll stuff the keyhole with putty," Mom said. "I'll get your father to do it."
"You deserve to be killed," my sister said.
"Go, already, get out of here," Mom said. "I don't want to see you out of your room until your father comes up. Just sit there and think about what you've done."
I knew there was no escape. I was bad. And Dad was going to punish me. I wanted to die and probably soon would. But, as I turned away and went to my room, one image stayed with me: what I had seen through the keyhole.

That time my sister took me "camping".
This thread has been locked by the moderators of r/raisedbynarcissists
Comment deleted by user · 5 yr. ago
This is a support group for people raised by abusive parents (with toxic, self-absorbed or abusive personality traits, which may be exhibited by those who suffer from cluster B personality disorders). Please share your stories, your questions, your histories, your fears and your triumphs. Significant others and friends are all welcome.
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I grew up in a household with a narc dad and a borderline mom who often left us for long periods of time to do god knows what.
When I was 12 I learned that I had a half sister, who was 17 and living in another town a few hours away. She had problems in her house too, although mainly economical problems, not actual neglect caused by ill will.
We wrote letters to each other and in one letter I shared with her my fear of the long summer holiday. Being stuck in the house without even school to escape to was hell. She made a promise to come and save me if it got too bad. "Just let me know and I'll find a way to help" she wrote.
A few days after I had posted my letter where I told her about how my mother had stopped providing meals, and my dad was emotionally and sometimes physically abusive, she showed up on our doorstep.
She told my dad that I was going to spend the summer holiday with her family and since my dad hated kids, myself included, he happily agreed, no questions asked.
We took the night train north, I was so excited. She didn't take me home with her - she took me camping. We spent the entire summer hiking amazingly beautiful trails, usually tenting but sometimes renting a small cabin for the night. It was the happiest summer of my life. I suddenly had a sister – who cared and enjoyed spending time with me. She could fish and trap birds, and cook and showed me how to read maps and the names of the constellations in the night sky.
When the summer ended I was transformed. I wasn’t shy or confidence deprived anymore. I was a strong and resilient kid with an entirely new outlook on things.
I reported my parents for lacking parenting skills and I was placed with a foster family. Neither of them made a fuss to keep me, so it was easily done.
I often think about that summer, that changed my life so profoundly. I don’t know if it was that I gained a sister, or that she showed me that I can survive – and thrive – even on the roughest, unmarked trails.
It wasn’t until years later that I learned the real story behind that summer. At the time when she made me that promise, my sister lived with her family in a tiny apartment, with no place for yet another person or another mouth to feed.
In fact she had been told to get out herself as soon as possible, to make room for her siblings, and she was now awaiting the day when she could move into her student apartment.
I was amazed to hear that not only was our wonderful summer an emergency solution, her way to keep her promise and also give me an unforgettable summer – but she did it so well that I never once realized that we were there because we had nowhere else to go.
Today I turn 30. My sister is still my best friend and this summer we plan to hit the trails again.
Edit: Thank you all for your kind comments - I'm stunned. For those who wonder about the trail. This is it: http://www.swedishlapland.com/stories/kings-trail/
This thread has been linked in r/bestof and sadly we are now having people post a lot of rule breaking comments. Because of this, this thread is now being locked. Thank you to everyone that offered OP support. To anyone joining us from r/bestof , please read the rules of this subreddit before posting comments or thread as we moderate very strictly here . If you are following the np.reddit.com link from r/bestof please remember not to vote on or in this thread. Thanks!
EDIT TO ADD: reminder about not voting on np.reddit.com links
I have two older sisters who have saved me several times throughout my life as well.
My father was physically and emotionally abusive, and I can still remember many times where my sister's put themselves in harms way to keep him from hurting me.
It was Christmas, sometime in the early 90s. He was mad (like always) and backed me into a corner. My sister saw it happening, ran to me and blocked him from me. She knocked me over and covered my entire body with hers (kind of like a momma bear covering her cub during a snow storm). Instead of him hitting me, he hit her. I remember her crying onto the back of my shirt as she continued to cover me from it. I felt horrible while it happened.
After he finally stopped, he walked away. She picked me up, told me she loved me, and that she would always protect me.
This brought tears to my eyes. What an amazing sister.
We're both lucky to have the life-saving kind of sisters!
Not everyone gets to be on a first-name basis with their guardian angel. :)
you cant ever repay something like that.
I don't want to sound innaproppiate but I would watch the shit out of that movie.
That's an Oscar-bait level feel-good story. OP should definitely look into writing it down.
Yeah, but Hollywood would turn up a backstory and a different ending twist and ruin it. Something something something the shared parent and spies, big sis turns out to be dying of cancer and little sis has the one marrow, but it fails. Four hanky coda leaving the gravesite.
This is beautiful. Thank you for sharing this.
Agreed. I wish people were as nice to each other as OP's sister was to him her.
That's a really beautiful experience. To be taught resilience and self sufficiency in such a loving and nurturing way. It sounds like you saved each other that summer.
It was. And since she had been brought up with this kind of outdoors adventures, she was really good at it. They never had the money to go abroad on the school holidays, but they went on amazing hikes instead, and she learned early to be comfortable in the wild. If I ever have kids, I think that's the way to go. It creates more memories, and I think it makes you a stronger person too.
This is so lovely I'm tearing up a little..
Me too. Haven't cried at Reddit in a dog's age but this sibling love - especially the reveal - wiping eyes at work.
We even moved in next door to each other, and have dinner at each others house ever other day.

I was actually attracted to my sister in law before ever even meeting my wife. She works in my company, but was already married at the time. She's very short at 4 '10, blonde hair, brown eyes....wide hipped but amazing legs and feet. Her skin is always that tan color and they always look so smooth. Her feet are size 6 and toes are on the shorter side, but they are perfect in every way.

I wound up marrying her sister 3 years ago. They show some resemblance but are still very different looking. My relationship with her is very similar to a mother in law. Although she is only 33, she has 4 kids and acts much older than her age. We get along but have never had a friend type of relationship because of her generally serious demeanor. Over the years I've spent many parties, BBQs, etc getting long glimpses of her incredible feet. I got incredibly horny one day when she brought up the subject of her having the nicest feet in the family. She has said it many times since, which is somewhat out of character for her. But I never had any sort of opening to realistically touch them, etc


A few weeks ago my wife mentioned that her sister was going to be sleeping over our house one Friday night soon so they can hang out like they used to before she had kids. I didn't think much of it, since she is always so straight laced. It turned out to be last Friday. She came over at 7ish with two bottles of wine, which was slightly shocking, as I've only seen her drink once, and that was at our wedding. I kept out of their way for the most part and let them do their thing. I was in the living room watching tv around midnight when they found their way onto the couch with me. By this time they were both pretty hammered. My wife was borderline sleeping already. They continued chatting for a few minutes before they both started to become quieter and quieter. My wife fell asleep first and my sister in law made a comment about how she snores and maybe she should go up to bed because she is hard to wake up when she's drinking, and didn't want to snore while I was trying to watch tv. At this point I seriously started to get aroused at the possibility of her falling to sleep stretched out on the same side of the couch as me. I had waited years to even smell her feet in the flesh (not just stealing her socks). I immediately convinced her it wasn't a problem and just to relax.


After another five minutes she was out cold, and within 20 minutes she was lightly snoring. I started to shake slightly at the anticipation, nervousness of the potential situation. I decided that this opportunity may never present itself again and I had to act on it. I slowly woke my wife up and helped her up to bed. She was murmuring nonsense and sleep talking. She was sleeping again as soon as I put her to bed. I went back downstairs and looked at the perfection lying there. She had jeans and socks on with a white tshirt. I had to test the water and see how deep of sleep she was in, so I started to nudge her while calling her name. After a few times with no movement, I started to try to pick her up off the couch like I was trying to bring her ip to bed, since it would have been a normal excuse if she woke. Again she didn't break for snoring at all. This gave me the confidence to remove one of her socks and I really almost came right there. The sight of her naked foot and knowing I was about to get as close as I ever would with them was almost too much too handle. I leaned down and started to take in the aroma from her toes. There was slight heat coming off them and that perfect foot smell we all crave.


I have to finish the update soon, as I'm on an iPad and typing is very slow and annoying.
Holy shit! This guys stops right in the middle of the story?! Who does that? Lol!
Sorry guys....,relegated to typing on an iPad which sucks.


I sat there staring at her naked foot for several minutes, partly because my nerves were getting the best of me. If she woke up and caught me, not only was my marriage possibly ruined, but her husband is an executive in my company. My career could be impacted as well.

I had to test how much rope I had, so I sat beside her feet on the couch and slowly ran my fingernail up the sole of her one naked foot. After a couple of strokes with no reaction, I went a step further and started to rub her foot, getting more aggressive as I went. After 30 seconds with no break in snoring, my confidence was high enough to go forward. I thought about turning the lights off and only having tv on (in case she woke) but I really wanted to see every inch of her feet. I made my move and bent down to her toes and put my lips around her big toe. I just sat there for what seemed like hours just enjoying that moment. The smell of her foot with her perfect toe in my mouth was almost enough to make me cum right there.

Wife getting out of shower now
Thanks for the story, very risky. I take it you're not used to typing on an iPad cos I don't think it's slow at all!

gb
any new experiences ? I bet she gets drunk often? any pics
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