Date: January 4
To: Dr. R. Anniston
From: John D. Connors
RE: Essay/Letter For The Friday Night Group Session
Dear Dr. Anniston,
As per your request, and as required by my parole officer, I am writing to you to tell you of the events that led up to this writing. At the outset, let me reiterate that I am doing this under protest. The best way that I can explain all of this is to write it in story form so I can keep the events straight.
It began two years ago when I was sixteen. I was living my life of semi-normalcy just fine. Then it happened, as an accident, I think.
I have three sisters, a mother and a dog. Dad left when he 'found out' that he was as queer as a three-dollar bill. Now there is the one you need in these sessions instead of me.
Kat was home alone studying for a trigonometry test, both her parents were at a wedding in Florida for the week and had left her and her brother Jake alone as she was 16 and he was 17. She shut the book, she already knew most of this, and decided she fancied a hot shower to get her mind off the sine cosine and tangent.
She undressed herself in her room, shedding her tee-shirt, jeans, bra, and underwear before making her way to the bathroom. Once there while waiting for the water to heat up she looked herself over in the mirror: she was 5 foot 4 inches, had shoulder length blond hair, and a slim body with C cup breasts. Kat moved her eyes down to her virgin pussy, her pubic hair was completely gone thanks to regular waxing with the help of her girlfriend Dani. Turning she entered the soothing, hot water.
Eddie can very clearly remember when he first thought of his mother as an object of his desire. Oddly, it wasn't even his idea: it was his father's. Eddie normally didn't get along very well with his father, who often seemed cold and distant. But he was secretly very grateful for everything his father taught him that day.
Eddie's father had taken him out for a father-son camping trip. The camping trip wasn't his father's idea, but was Eddie's. It was Eddie's mother, Patricia, who cajoled her husband into taking their son out for the trip. It was to be a short overnight stay in the mountains. Once they got to the camp site and set up, Eddie's father had started into the liquor, and shortly became fairly drunk. Eddie had heard that drunk people told no lies, so he started testing the situation by asking his father questions about Eddie's favorite topic: women.
It didn't take long for Eddie's father to become visibly frustrated, and start into a long, rambling, drunken lecture about what women want. At least it started out that way, but Eddie quickly realized that it was actually about his mother.
David was bitchy as hell. He was playing some sort of videogame in the next room and I was trying to study. I told him to shut up like 17 times, and he would, but five minutes later, he was yelling again. Something about campers and newb-tubes or whatever. I wasn't even paying attention any more. I just knew I lost my concentration every time he screamed.
"Mom!" I yelled into the phone after dialing her number. "I'm trying to study! And Dave's in the next room screaming at some random idiots online! When are you guys gonna be back!?"
Mom and Aunt Clarissa were in Minneapolis, shopping. They'd left that morning, leaving Dave with me to play his games. They told us to fend for ourselves and drove off.
"We're gonna be back tomorrow. Probably in the afternoon. We told you that six times."
"But I have to study!"
"You're a big girl, Beth. You're sixteen. He's fifteen. You should both be mature enough to settle this. Handle it."
I should have known it was too good to be true. Mom and Dad said they would be out shopping all afternoon. But I figured I didn't have to worry about them. Without fail, no matter how long they said they would be gone, it was inevitable that it would be twice as long as they predicted before they got back. If they were just "running to the store for a few things" and said they would be back in fifteen minutes, it would be a minimum of thirty, if not forty five or even an hour. This time they said they would be gone "a couple of hours." Therefore I knew it would be many hours until they returned, probably not until well after dinner time.
"You sure you don't want to come along?" My mom had asked.
"No, I'm just gonna hang here, maybe watch a movie or something," I said.
"We'll be gone for a couple of hours," my dad added. Yeah, right.
"OK Guys. Take your time. I love you both."
"Call us, or text us if you need anything Samantha."
"I will, Mom."
"We love you too, Honey," My dad told me. "And remember to lock the door when we go, Sammie. You'll be here all alone."
"OK, Dad. Although, I am seventeen, in case you forgot. I have been home alone before. But of course, I'll throw the deadbolt as soon as you're gone."
My little brother Bobby had slept over at his friend Drew's house the night before. They had soccer practice, or little league, or bowling ... something like that ... that morning. Then he was spending the rest of the day with Drew's family, which he does all the time. I was sure that after whatever activity they had (soccer, kite flying, etc.), they would all go to get something to eat, or for ice cream, or to a movie or something like that. My mom said Bobby was staying at Drew's again that night, so I didn't think I had to worry about seeing him at all. Besides, he's loud as hell, so I felt certain that if he came home unexpectedly, I would hear him from the moment he entered the house.
Penny's cheerleader costume was attracting more attention than she anticipated. She wore the vest top without the requisite turtleneck sweater underneath, plus she left the top three buttons undone. Her D-cup breasts put a tremendous strain on the remaining two. The vest was spread so wide that her nipples were barely covered. Once when she was dancing a whole tit popped out. The skirt wasn't much better. Her husband, Rick had her shorten the pleated little number by five inches. Instead of being mid-thigh it just covered her pussy. He had wanted her to go to the party commando, but that's where she drew the line. In reality, the panties didn't make much difference. She wore the smallest white see-through thong that she owned. When she bent at the waist it was invisible. All you could see was her glorious ass.