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BROTHER vs SISTER Strength Challenge

To this day, I resent being born into my family. I still see my sister from time to time, and looking at her still scares me.

I look at my mother and hate her. It hurts knowing she could have helped me, and chose not to. I still have trouble understanding why.

Out of fear. When You're Ready. Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email.

The When You're Ready Project is a community for survivors of sexual violence to share their stories and have their voices heard, finding strength in one another.

When you're ready to share your story, we will be here. Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Email Address. Anonymous Story: Being raped by my sister. Posted on December 9, by WYR. Related Stories. Anonymous Story: Guilt and Silence.

I looked down at my brother, who probably thought I had forgotten about him, and dripped some water on his face, causing him to gurgle a bit.

My friends laughed, and I caught his girlfriend covering her mouth. I carefully placed the water next to me, placed my hands on my knees and bent over him, staring at him.

The arrogance had disappeared from his eyes, the swagger gone from his lips. In its place was fear and defeat. I pressed down with my legs on his arms hard.

His eyes were moist now, and two tears rolled down each side of his face. I smiled down at him. He nodded.

No teasing, no bossing, nothing. And wherever I want. And if you give me any shit, I'll pin you again and again.

At Christmas. In front of your friends. On your birthday. In front of gramma. Understand, Scotty? I raised my eyebrow and tilted my head.

He was almost crying now. I relaxed my legs, grabbed his hands and sat back a little on his chest. I spread my legs releasing his head, and now my thighs and shins pinned his shoulders and biceps.

I placed his hands to each side and let them go. They fell harmlessly to his side, not daring to fight. He was totally submissive now, knowing full well he was completely beaten, pinned and dominated by his little sister.

His tear stained eyes looked up at me, then away at his girlfriend, who looked away. I sat there with my hands on hips, looking down at him, then at my friends.

They were sitting on the picnic table, eyes transfixed on what had happened, smiles on their face. His girlfriend now looked uncomfortable at us, but didn't stop looking, or help.

I looked at my pathetic, submissive, beaten brother, and almost felt sorry for him. But I didn't. I slapped his cheeks softly, then a little bit harder.

I pinched his nose, twisted it a little until he screamed. I had Janie tell a joke, then tickled him, making him laugh so hard he was out of breath, his eyes watering.

I let my left arm rest across my thighs, and tapped his chest hard with my right forefinger. I looked around, thinking. It wasn't enough that I pinned him and heard him acknowledge defeat.

I needed to completely break him. I needed a declaration, kind of a signed surrender. I reached down and pulled some grass, casually sprinkling on his face to help me think.

My face broke into a mischievous grin as I thought of what I was going to do. I pulled more grass and rolled it up in my hand.

I then pulled a few pine needles and did the same, rolling them up in a tight ball and wrapping a leaf around them. I moistened this with my saliva until it resembled a mini enchilada, showed it to him and said "Prove you surrender.

I want you to swallow this. I smiled and placed it in his mouth. He closed his eyes and chewed it, then started to swallow. I took the water bottle, placed my hand behind his head and lifted it and placed the bottle opening to his lips.

He looked up and took a few sips, then swallowed the grass completely. I gently lowered his head back to the ground. I made sure it was all gone.

I smiled at him again, hands on hips, "that wasn't so bad! I looked at the grass and dirt stains on my knees from pinning him.

Clean them off, and I'll let you up. I had broken him. Janies mom then pulled into the parking lot and I patted his cheek and stood up, looked down at him and smiled, then walked off with my girlfriends.

He never bothered me much after that. He was a good boy. But I enjoyed my dominance and the new role I had won. Of course I continued to pin him.

Once, I even chased him down and caught him in front of his friends, pinning him down with ease. But that's a story for another time. Thank you for your kind comments, and let me reassure you, the stories are true, gleaned recently from my journals, which I have kept since I was 8 or 9.

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Re: younger sister domination. Absolutely fantastic to read, thanks for sharing this with us. I feel humiliated because by alpha older sis can defeat me.

I can't imagine how emasculated your older brother must feel. It sounds like you mainly dominate with the schoolgirl pin. Do you use any other holds on either of your hapless brothers?

Find all posts by ddelurker. A very good story! Love her attitude! Who is the author, Brodin? Find all posts by Zweig. I remember reading this at sgpinned.

I have reposted many of the Cindy Honey stories in the files section of the new group. Thanks, ddelurker! Please, do post some of those stories, as my membership is pending approval to the mentioned group.

A fine line It was myself, two girlfriends, Tess and Andrea, and Andrea's younger brother, Zach, who was at the time 17 and a senior in high school.

He had come to visit his sister, to see what college was like for the weekend. We were just hanging out for the afternoon, planning to go to a few parties that evening.

We were discussing the incident in the park, laughing and joking about it, Zach just watching saying nothing.

Every now and then he would look in my direction, but mostly he would look about the room, acting disinterested, as if the entire discussion was beneath him.

When he did look over at me it was with an air of thinly veiled contempt, but I did notice his eyes wandering to parts of me other than my eyes.

Now at the time I had a boyfriend, but I was quite flattered with the way that Zach kept looking over at me, at my legs, among other parts.

I may act aloof at times, but I do appreciate attention now and then. Finally he broke his silence. He said that there was no way a girl could beat up a guy, especially if he was bigger, or even the same size.

He was being arrogant as most high school boys are, trying to impress. He doubted my story, claiming that I must have made it up, or at least the guy was more drunk than I had let on.

We went back and forth a bit, then he made the statement I knew was inevitable: he claimed that I couldn't even beat him.

Now I knew that he had challenged me with the hopes in copping a feel, but in fact I was intrigued at the notion of wrestling a good- looking 17 year old boy myself, and agreed to wrestle him to submission.

I admit I was a little bit worried, because I had never wrestled a guy based on a challenge; it has always been spontaneous, and I was able to use the spontaneity to my advantage.

But Zach and I were about the same height, he perhaps an inch taller, and although he was no weakling, he was no jock either.

So we cleared the furniture to the sides of the room and both set upon proving our respective points. With my two girlfriends watching, we both got on our knees and set the rules.

No choke holds no hair pulling and no groin kneeing. The match ends when someone says, "give". We started with a wrestling hold, one on all fours, and the other on knees, hands on the opponents' arms.

Zach said he would give me an advantage, being a girl; he would be on all fours. I could start on top. I welcomed his cockiness.

Someone said "go" and we commenced wrestling. Neither of us got a clear advantage right away. I was surprised at how strong he was, but more surprised at my own strength, especially the strength in my legs.

We flipped each other a few times, each of us trying to get in a position as we rolled around on the floor.

At this point I really wasn't trying to beat him, only to keep things moving, to wear him out. I was able to keep up with him and at the same time could sense him tiring after about ten minutes.

Finally I was on my stomach and he was on my back, his hands grabbing my elbows, trying to force me on my back.

I relaxed a little, letting him do all of the work while I caught my breath. My legs were spread, resting, yet preventing him from flipping me.

When I could feel him tiring, I rolled slowly on my side and then quickly, with a burst from my legs, flipped him over on his back hard, me on my back on top of him, almost knocking the wind out of him.

He released his grip and I spun around on him, almost lying flat on him, and grabbed his wrists, pulling his arms out above his head. Now at this point I was straddling him low in the stomach, my body at about 45 degrees, his arms pinned high above his head.

He still had strength in his legs, though, and I knew that I needed to immobilize them. I did a move I had never done before.

I slid my own legs back and sort of wrapped them around his, my ankles locking his calves, pushing his legs out and preventing him from moving them.

My body was now working as one muscle as my hands had his arms pinned hard, and my legs had his legs frozen. I looked down at his face.

He no longer had that teenage cockiness about him; he was genuinley surprised and a bit frightened. I smiled and said, "give"?

He squirmed a little to no avail. I had him locked up good. Then I felt something, something that sent a shiver through me and my whole body tensed up.

I turned to my friends and had them leave; I told them he would not submit with them in the room.

They dutifully left, closing the door. I looked back down at my frightened prey. The tone of the battle had changed. Even though he was in pain, and felt humiliated, Zach was obviously excited.

I could feel his erection through his jeans, and the thought of turning someone on by beating them had made me wildly excited.

I switched my grip on his wrists so that now my right hand held his right, and vice-versa. This way I could pull my hands slowly outward, causing him pain and reminding him that I was still in charge.

I started teasing him, fluffing my hair in his face, rubbing up a little more against him, all the while spreading his legs and twisting his arms, so that he received a healthy dose of pain with his pleasure.

The thought of totally dominating a guy while bringing him pleasure at the same time drove me over the edge. It brought me to a level of excitement and arousal I had not felt before.

By this time I had thought he was going to burst out of his jeans, and I was going to steam my shorts off, so I decided that I needed to move ahead.

I wanted to give him relief, but I wanted to control his relief, let him know that I was allowing him to come. I slowly slid back onto his penis, which by now was pointing down towards his feet, if they were not spread wide by my legs.

Now the only material between my clitoris and his penis were my cut-offs and his jeans. I continued to twist his arms as I pushed down slowly on his penis, slowly so he would last and I would receive pleasure also.

I looked down at him and finally spoke, asking if he gave yet. He of course could not speak; his mouth sort of parted, like he was trying to speak, but nothing came out.

I could tell that he could not give nor utter a sound until he came, no matter how much his shoulders and legs hurt. I moved forward a bit off of his penis, causing him a totally different pain, and smiled down at him.

I pulled my arms outward a little more so that now his biceps were almost straight up next to his head and his forearms were bent so that his wrists were over their opposite shoulders.

His eyes were tearing a little, and I was so hot at this point that my lust and desire had taken control of my body. I slid back, slowly, watching his eyes roll back into his head, then closing.

I pushed down a little more, and out of his mouth came, at first a barely audible whimper, then a cringe of pain, then grunt in pleasure as he came.

I pushed down even harder, concentrating now on my own pleasure, pushing hard until the wave crashed over me as my body, still acting as one muscle, now tensed up as one, my legs tightened around his and my hands gripped his wrists like a vice and I started to quiver a little, breaking out in a cold sweat.

It wasn't the same pleasurable feeling as actual penetration; maybe more of an aftershock, but sometimes aftershocks register high on the Richter scale.

I rode the wave as best I could, feeling ripples of pleasure throughout my body, struggling to maintain control on top of him. Finally, the wave pulled back and I looked down at him.

His eyes were open half-mast as if he were drunk, his entire body limp. A droplet of sweat, which was beading up on my face, fell into his eye, and his eyes closed again in pain.

I released my legs at this point, sliding me rear easily up onto his chest, releasing his arms and pinned them securely under my legs; his wrists pinned by my knees.

I moved my legs in slightly so my thighs brushed his cheeks. I covered his eyes with my hand and thrust my crotch into his chin, gasping at one last jolt of pleasure.

I grabbed the sill with my other hand so I wouldn't collapse as my body shuddered again. I looked down at his face, framed by my bare moist thighs.

The sweat from my thighs had rolled down onto his face. I reached for a water bottle and sprinkled some water on his face, not to cool him off, but to remind him of whom was still in control.

I took a sip, cooling myself off by wiping the bottle over my face and looked down at him again. He dared not speak. I wiped the remaining droplets of sweat from my thighs and gently brushed my hands on his face, covering it with more of my sweat.

He meekly submitted, whispering "I give" soo low that I had to read his qtrembling lips to understand him. I slowly stood up and looked down at his sweat stained shirt, soaked by my rear and legs.

He slowly get to his feet, and I told him that he had better change his pants. My expression was blank as I spoke. I didn't want him to think that he brought me pleasure.

I had used him for my pleasure while controlling his. He was very obedient and attentive that night, not at all the kid I had met that afternoon.

He brought me drinks at the party, never spoke back, never disrespectful. And I just about ignored him. That night I called my boyfriend, requesting that he came to spend the following weekend with me.

I had a surprise in store for him. Boyfriend CindyHoney I had a boyfriend, and when he found out that I could beat up my brothers, he was, let's say, mildly intrigued.

He knew my older brother and had a rather difficult time believing that I could pin him, so he challanged me. Now I have found that when a male and female wrestle, one of three things usually happens.

The male lets her win and enjoys it, she wins on her own and he still enjoys it, either at the time or later thinking back upon it, or she wins and he hates it.

I know that there is a fourth, that the male wins, but he usually quits gallantly before the end. Anyway, against my better judgement, I agreed to wrestle my boyfriend.

We started out on the floor of course and he was laughing and sort of playing. Now I always despised a condensending attitude amongst men, and his only made my competitive juices boil.

I used his nonchallant methods to my advantage, and was soon straddling him. I guess he thought it would end there, but I pinned him good, and dared him to escape.

When he found he couldn't, his demeaner slipped to anger, and he started thrashing wildly. I probably posed more than I should have, but I did let him up when I saw that a line had been crossed.

He was very angry, and left. He called later, jokingly appologizing saving face , and challanged me again, a "rematch".

Again, against my better judgement, I accepted, only because of his persistance, and to put this behind us. This time he was hell bent on winning we were about the same size.

I was tall for my age , and cheated a little, grabbing fistfulls of hair, twisting arms, etc. Anyway, when he pulled these stunts, it angered me and I was determined not to let him win.

Now I had been taking Tae Kwon Do at this time, and into track and volleyball, and my awkwardness had been replaced by a certain gracefullness and athleticism.

Because of this, and because he was so blind with anger, I was able to pin him a second time, this time at his house.

His mom came downstairs and saw us, and only because she was there was I able to leave the house untouched. He broke up with me that night, and the next few weeks telling friends that the reason was because I was not really a "lady", calling me "butch", etc.

That hurt me. I started to doubt myself, and to that end, I quit the track team but not Tae Kwon Do and started dressing ahem sexier, short skirts, etc.

I stopped pinning my twin, stopped beating guys, period. Of course everything changed once I went to college. It's a world away from highs chool, and I no longer worried nor cared about peoples false perceptions.

I could run track for the intermural team, beat a guy, and he would have no problem dating me afterwards. I felt good and confident about myself again.

My re-introduction to the joy of the pin cyndihoney I hadn't pinned a guy in over three years. After a negative experience pinning my boyfriend, I had concluded that maybe I was getting too old for this.

So I stopped pinning my brothers. And I didn't wrestle, not even for play, until I was It was right before my junior year, and some girlfriends and myself were taking a drive up the coast on the 1.

We stopped along the way, and found a large, rambling park. The park was pretty deserted, a couple having a picnic, a guy playing Frisbee with his dog, and a group of guys over near a group of trees.

Now being female, and 20 years old, we decided to walk over, but the closer we got, the more we realized that they had probably been drinking most of the day.

When we were within speaking distance, we decided that it wasn't a good idea to hang around and turned. They called us over anyway, and being bored, we went over.

They were our age, doing the same thing we were, hanging before school. They also had a pretty good buzz going, and when they offered us some, after some brief conversation, and we declined.

One of them was more belligerent then the others, taunting a little. You a Mormon or something? I detest being called "Hon" or "Sweetie" by complete strangers.

It rankles me to hear it, and I made a crude, snide remark to him. He sauntered over, until we were about a foot apart and said " Sorry, Hon, I didn't mean anything by it".

At the time I was wearing a biker hat, to go with my biker look and he grabbed it by the bill, ripping it off my head, backpedaling while waving it at me.

Now there was no way I was going to kiss him, but I wasn't going to leave without my hat. Looking back, I probably should have written it off and left; there's never telling what might happen in these situations, and I would hate to wind up as a victim on "America's Most Wanted".

I was 20, however, had a bit of arrogance in myself, and a slight dash of stupidity in these situations. Come to think of it, I'm still like that.

I don't like to back down or take shit from anyone. He was about an inch or two taller than I was, not muscular, but not scrawny.

My instincts, calling from my teen years, told me I could take him, but my common sense said that this wasn't a boy, he was a man, and I might not have much of a chance like I used to.

I did, however, have a plan. I walked over to him and said sure, I'll kiss you on the cheek. He stood there and offered me his cheek, his hands holding my hat behind his back.

I puckered and leaned over to kiss him. Now normally I abhor violence. I never hit in anger, and have been taught to only use martial arts in defence.

In fact, the best defense is often walking away from confrontation. So I had no idea what prompted my next actions. I believe it was my refusal to back down to this drunk, and also a bit of smug self-confidence that made me quickly step to the side, spin and elbow him hard in the area between his chest and stomach.

He grimaced as the air rushed out of him, and his arms and hands instinctively came forward, allowing me to grab back my hat. As I turned to my friends, he swung out at me with his left hand, hitting my shoulder and tripped me, calling me a bitch.

Now I believe I probably should have expected the reaction, but it still took me by surprise, and my anger boiled as I jumped to my feet.

I walked towards him. He sort of sneered at me. OK, babe, but if you try that again, I'll knock you down again" I couldn't believe he was challenging me.

His friends laughed, goading him on while my friends were telling me to leave it alone, let's leave. Now I brought this mess upon myself in the first place, and I probably should have walked away, but something inside of me, a ghost from the past, was telling me that not only could I kick this guys ass, but I should kick his ass.

I smiled and stuck out my hand and apologized. He stuck his out with an arrogant smile, looked over to his buddies, and I grabbed it and threw him to the ground, face first.

I landed on his back hard, driving his face into the ground. He started to push himself up, and I grabbed his arm and twisted it back by the thumb.

Now I had two distinct advantages here: Number one, he was drunk. Number two, I was sober. That means that I was able to surprise him, and my reflexes were quicker than his were.

I was straddling his back with his arm twisted behind it, my hand twisting it by the thumb. My other hand pushed hard at the base of his head, driving his face into the ground.

At this point his buddies were cheering him on and laughing, enjoying the spectacle. My friends were cheering me on, and were laughing at the guy, not the situation.

I spun him around to his side, twisting his arm, forcing him on his back. After a brief struggle, I had him on his back and grabbed his wrists. I knew his right arm was sore, but his left had fight.

The look on his face was panic. I was sliding higher up on his stomach, and he thrashed about. The guys started to quiet down, then drew silent as I took control of his hands.

This really got me going, because we both knew he was going to get pinned. I felt again the rush, power and control I had last felt 3 years before, and it filled me with a resurgence of empowerment.

I loved this. I was staring at his face the whole time, watching it go from anger to surprise then panic in seconds.

My face was calm determination. He started to twist a little, trying to get back on his stomach. I knew what he was thinking. He knew he was going to lose, but better to lose on the stomach then lose pinned on the back.

His twisting helped me with his arms. By twisting, he actually had one of his arms planted hard on the ground. I quickly took advantage of this and pinned it with my left knee, then slid my leg a little higher up so my shin pinned his arm.

I could now work on his other arm with two hands. It was no contest. His other arm fell like a mighty oak, crashing to the ground as my right shin pinned it hard.

I spread my legs wide so my shins had his arms pinned almost at the elbow, and I gripped his wrists firmly. I continued to stare down at his face, not saying a word.

When a guy gets to this point, he knows he has to fight back to save face. But the more he fights, the more rapidly he tires, and the more controlled he becomes.

I had always thought that if my brothers had learned this, and when the pin was imminent just let it happen, they might have enough strength to throw me if they caught me off guard.

But the male psyche will never let this happen. Time and time again, they will never submit, keep fighting until they tire which always results in a more secure pin, and a more subdued victim.

And here was no exception. He arched his back high in an attempt to throw me off, his body forming a complete arc, but every time I rose with him, and when he crashed back to the ground, my butt hit hard on his chest and my shins even harder on his arms.

He kept this up even though each thrust weakened him more and more. I just kept riding him, silently, my eyes locked on his face. In between these bucks, he tried to twist.

The pin by nature almost prevents this, because I had him pinned so that his arms were straight out, preventing him from rolling at all.

He kept this up for about twenty minutes, gradually weakening himself. He then slowed, his bucking became more labored, he weakened, then he stopped, exhausted, panting.

Our eyes met for a second. I could see the defeat in them. I kept staring at him as I set to secure the pin.

I slid up higher on his chest, my ankles now pinning his arms at the elbows, my crotch inches away from his chin. He swung his legs feebly one last time, then just lay there, completely pinned, subdued and beaten.

I moved his hands up over his head and placed his wrists under my knees.

When I wanted someone to play with, I would crawl through the closet to her bedroom. Growing up, I had 3 brothers and a sister.

Instead of having a stranger rape me, which I would have preferred, my brother and sister would rape me nearly everyday. I was 5.

The one I remember the most is when they brought a group of random men I had never met into my sisters bedroom and had them record her while she molested me.

At this time, my brother was in his twenties and my sister was in junior high. The day after this happened, I tried telling my mom.

It was never mentioned again. Fast forward a few years later, and my brother was in prison for statutory rape. There were other girls, which is heart breaking thinking of today.

To this day, I resent being born into my family. When i was 15,i finially made my First Holy Communion with the 7 year olds in the class.

My parents dressed my like the little girls in a poofy,top of the knees,short sleeve communion dress and matching veil with lace anklets and white mary jane shoes.

Under my dress,they made me wear a cloth diaper and plastic pants and tee shirt just like all the little girls wear. My 16 year old brother saw me as i was being dressed in my tee shirt and diaper and plastic pants and took several photos of me with out my knowledge.

Later that day. I gave in and took off my dress and was just wearing my veil,tee shirt,diaper and plastic pants and got down on my knees and sucked him off.

He shot a full load of cum in my mouth and made me swallow it all! I am 15 also and made my First Holy Communion on May 19th and was made to wear cloth baby diapers and toddler size plastic pants under my poofy communion dress!

My parents and gramma wanted me to be like a little girl so they put the diapers and plastic pants on me. Your parents and gramma did the right thing by making you wear the cloth diapers and plastic pants under your communion dress especially at your age of 15!

They wanted to send a message to you that purity and innocence is very important before marriage! My parish not only requires the cloth diaper,plastic pants and under shirt under the communion dresses,but also under our white,ankle length,short sleeve confirmation dresses for our confirmation at White tights are required over the diaper and plastic pants and the under shirt is tucked into the waist of the tights.

I am 16 and was just confirmed last may and had to wear the outfit. My diaper was 10 plies thick and i had white adult size plastic pants over it with the high waist tights.

My parish is strict and the dress code for the girls confirmation at 16[10th grade] is a white,short sleeve,poofy,ankle length dress with a matching veil,wrist length white gloves,white tee shirt,cloth diaper,'rubberpants'[plastic pants].

When i was confirmed,my great aunt gave me a pair of super large size baby rubberpants to wear over my diaper instead of the regular adult size rubberpants!

The tag on waist band in the back said "Babypants,extra large super size" and they fit me snug over my diaper!

I was the only girl in my class that had baby rubberpants over my diaper,while all of the other girls had loose fitting adult size rubberpants over their diaper!

If u talk about the model in the pics, that's not a boy in girl clothes, but Canadian Internet model girl Ariel Rebel.

WHat an adorable young girl! The only thing that would make it better is if she started feeding him her birth control pills so he would grow some small little breast to fill her bra's!

I want you, all of you. I want to feel you inside me, deep inside me. Click here and Check me out i am getting naked here ;.

I've seen the great importance of natural herbs and the wonderful work they have done in people's lives. I wonder why people still spend their money on surgery, injections and drugs each time they are sick.

I've seen it with my own eyes. Even Dr James proved to the whole world countless times that natural herbs can cure all kinds of diseases and he cured countless people using natural herbs.

I know it is hard to believe but am a living testimony. There is no harm in trying herbs, it will only get you cured from what you are, so why don't you give herbs a try and see its effectiveness..

Thursday, May 26, The Little Brother:. Both Alex and Kristen knew how important it was to not get caught. So they agreed to stay away from the clothes that Megan wore often.

One day while Alex and Kristen were playing with a variety of outfits in the backyard, Kristen noticed a sudden change in Alex. Not long after the creek incident, Alex and his older sister were in the backyard yet again.

He acted as shy and bashful as possible. This is my first time having two women at once and I make sure they are well pleased.

Having two hot women is beyond my wildest dreams. There is not any jealously. We almost collapse from exhaustion sometimes.

Back in been married about 2 mouths when i came home and found my wife with her sister and brother in bed. I'm in a somewhat similar situation, or hope to be.

No, honestly, I never considered leaving her because of it. I've missed intimacy terribly tough and have let my wife know it. Just a couple of months ago we had a real discussion about it and she let me know that she's just not interested anymore.

And I wouldn't want her to do it out of charity. And I don't want the potential for drama that an affair would have.

But a little over a year ago my wife's little sister lost her husband of 30 years. I'm 70, my wife is 65 and her sister is now I've known her sister since she was 10 and we've always loved each other.

I remember when she was 16 and she told my wife that she was going to steal me away when she turned We thought it was just a humorous threat.

This is her sister's first year to do her own taxes and I was asked to help. We live miles apart so there have been more emails and texts in the past month or so than all of the other years combined.

Well, to my real surprise, my wife is prodding me to email and text even more than I have. It's almost like she wants me to get closer to her sister.

I told her that I didn't want her sister to think that I'm starting to stalk her and my wife simply said that her sister loves me and that it's OK.

So, for the first time in all of our married years, I've began thinking of my little sis-in-law as a potential lover.

But, hey, if they do, and I feel they're both for it, I would love to have a more intimate relationship with my sister-in-law.

Thanks Drew. Well if it is true you are the luckiest guy around. To have a lovely and sexy wife is precious but to have her sister also sexy and gorgeous is another story itself.

If it is truly great for you and if you are making this up you are only lying to yourself. I wish this would happen to me.

Great story. Perhaps you knew that and used it anyway. It may have been you that didn't belong there. BUT, Liked your story. Lucky guy. No, I'm not still there.

Job took me to Midwest again.

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