My Sordid Life Growing Up And My Eventual Paring With My Love

I was an introverted sort, into books and fantasies, and not people. Yes, I could talk to my mother, and sit and listen to my father. But people, out there beyond the front door I preferred not to talk to them. I did well in school and was my teacher's pet student. My language teacher was always nice to me and she stroked my hair and she hugged me to her. At the time, I just liked being held by her.

My sister was on the other end of the spectrum. Outgoing, friendly, went out a lot. She was the popular kid at school. My sister had boyfriends, and she lost her virginity at a party, after a basketball game, along with some other girls. The party was for them to lose their virginities, and give the boys a chance to sample them and see which one they preferred. It hurt me, made me sick at the stomach, when she told me that several boys had sex with her that night.

My father decided to hole me back one year to go to college and I worked at school as my language teacher's assistant. She lived alone, she came from a well to do family, but wasn't married. I was no longer he student when she kissed me, holding my face in her hands and gently kissing my lips until I opened my mouth a little for her to start putting her tongue between my lips. She laid me on her bed, and talking gently to me, slowly button by button undid my blouse, squeezed my breasts while she kissed me more and more passionately, and put her hand down my pants, until she had me undressed and was undressed herself and she put her tongue between my legs and with her fingers and tongue drew me into an orgasm. My first, I had never had that happen before. We became lovers, and I fell in love with her and needed to spend every minute of every day with her.

My passion with her did not go unnoticed and as soon as my sisters graduated he sent us both to New York to an art school. New York, art students, naked models, tall girls, a girl from Connecticut, what was he thinking, I was in a world where every girl had a girlfriend, or at least that is what it seemed to me. I knew I was where I wanted to be, I was free to make love.

My sister got around as she always did and met this guy who was living in New York, spending money. She became his lover de jour and she asked him to fuck me. She would arrange it, he would come over to our apartment and she would help him, but he had to fuck me until I understood that having a girlfriend wasn't for me, The first fuck was what you might imagine, held down, slapped, and forced. The following fucks came often, once or twice a day, on my back or on my stomach, held down by him or by my sister, against the kitchen sink in broad daylight, fucked until I surrendered and didn't fight back. By then I was pregnant and I had to marry him, my sister's boyfriend.

He was rich, family rich, so I had 'everything'. He was 36 and his family was happy he found a wife. He kept fucking my sister while I was pregnant, fucking me once or twice a week until my belly was too big and they resorted to oral sex on me. My sister was the person I asked to be with me for the birth. She was the one who had to 'witness' the birth, I wanted her to sit and see what she had done to me. The nurses and the doctor let her receive the baby, and do most of the work of preparing the baby for me. She wanted sex, well this was going to happen to her too. I told her that morning, I wanted her to get pregnant.

At this stage I was 20 and she was 19. Getting pregnant wasn't what she wanted to do. But with the baby in the house and my pushing her into it, she let herself get pregnant too. Now we were even. Now she was going to feel what I felt, not that having the baby home is something you regret, 'it's all worth it' at that point, to have your own baby. Her baby had to be named and the decision was to put my name as the birth mother so her baby would not be shunned for being a 'bastard' child.

This then is how it came to happen that I got married early and my sister and I both had babies so early. It was many years after I got married that I met this woman and she and I became emotionally and intimately involved. But by then I was in my thirties and having her in my life was something my husband and my sister felt was good for me. My hair turned grey along with hers. My children grew up and flew away and my husband was complimented for being so understanding to support my sister, she had never met someone to marry. As to my girlfriend, there were rumors around that she might be from the other side and it was nice that she had been 'adopted' by us and given a family where she could belong.

For these many years, in our house I live with my adopted sister and my sister lives with my husband, that's how we share our beds. Only the maids know whose panties are found in the sheets the next morning. My adopted 'sister' was right about one thing, only hire maids that were gay, they would understand.