When I was a little kid my older brother would sneak into my room late at night and molest me. I think it started when I was about 5 and he was about 12. I didn't really understand what he was doing for the longest time. Eventually I figured out that he really probably wasn't suposed to be doing that. But he would lift my sheet and slip his hand up my leg and inbetween them and make his way to my pussy. He would very softly and gently carress my pussy lips and inner thighs and if felt really nice and tingly and I didn't ever want him to stop. He was usually there for about half an hour then go off back to his room. I never told anyone about this. I liked it and didn't want it to stop but then he went off to college and it stopped. I was maybe about 11 years old the last time he did that. I missed him terribly. I loved him a lot and I loved him comming into my room and molesting me.

We never spoke of it.

Until many years later when we were both visiting my mom's at the same time and he just pulled me aside and apologized for being such an evil monster and P-phile and all. He even offered to get himself castrated if that was what it would take to earn my forgiveness.

I hugged him and wrapped myself around him and kissed his neck and told him that the only thing I regretted was that he stopped doing it. He had been carrying around that burden of guilt all those years and if he had only told me sooner I would have set him straight. He told me he never touched anyone else. He said he had simply been infatuated with me. By then we were both married and neither of us were the sort that would cheat but I told him if we were every both single again at the same time he was welcome to relive the past with me. We never did but at least I made his guilt go away.