From: bobandcarole@aol.com   
      
   Story: Little Sarah   
      
   By bobandcarole (M/f, M/F, inc, pt lust, oral, humil)   
      
   Send feedback to: r0rik0n@yahoo.com   
      
   My sister Sarah, the angel that could dissolve any depressive mood, any   
   moment that I thought life itself was too overwhelming for me to   
   struggle through, or any frustration or hatred, simply by smiling at me   
   and staring deeply into my soul with her large sapphire gems. Her smile   
   and her supple, pouting lips, her white flesh sparkled with freckles   
   that spread from her nose across her cheeks and her long brunette hair.   
   She was the whole world to me....   
      
   I still remember the summer morning I first fell deeply in love with   
   her. I was 13 and she was only 5 and a half. I was stuck at home again,   
   watching her while my workaholic mother was at one of her "day jobs"   
   downtown. The type of job that involves selling your own self-worth and   
   dignity to the highest bidder, or some random Joe that is in dire need   
   of a quick blowjob at a discount price. Yes, my mother was a slut, and   
   a cheap slut at that I learned much later, but that's a different   
   story.   
      
   Anyways, the first time I realized my true love for my little sibling   
   was when she came over to me one morning and asked for me to hold her.   
   I was sitting on the couch watching broadcast TV in our low-budget   
   apartment, just killing time, when all of the sudden my sis came out of   
   her room with a look of complete terror on her face. She looked like a   
   distressed little girl, lost in a forest, naïve and ignorant, with no   
   one around to take care of her. She had her long pink nightie on that   
   stretched down to her mid-shin. It was slightly transparent and you   
   could see the outline of her little cotton panties through the texture.   
      
   "What's wrong, Sarah?" I asked with extreme curiosity.   
      
   "I had a bad dream" she said as I noticed a tear dripped from her eyes.   
      
   She walked over to me and I comforted her for what seemed like hours. I   
   just loved having her in my arms, and the feel of her little heart   
   beating against my chest with her little arms wrapped around me and   
   mine around her. The scent of her prepubescent skin as I gently kissed   
   her soft neck and told her everything was going to be okay. I could   
   live in that moment forever; I could thrive for eternity in only that   
   sweet epochal minute and make passionate love to her there for a   
   lifetime and then some.   
      
   That was just the beginning. My passion, lust, love, desire and every   
   other word that could explain the kind of obsessive nature one could   
   experience over an angel such as her would be suiting. As my budding   
   fascination with my sister snowballed throughout the adolescent years   
   ahead of me, I realized that this was not going to go away. It was just   
   going to grow larger.   
      
   You would think that it was a healthy obsession, but this was not the   
   case. See, I was harboring these feelings for my sister all these   
   years, but never actually expressed them to her. I was not ready to   
   openly surrender my heart to my own blood. Especially now that she was   
   much older and could understand the concept of love between a man and a   
   woman (unrelated) and that this particular love I had for her would not   
   be accepted in modern day society.   
      
   I was now 20 and she was 12. Her body was now more gorgeous than I had   
   ever imagined it could be. Her legs were smooth and beginning to take   
   an erotic muscular shape to them. Just to touch and rub her inner   
   thighs would be enough to bring me over the edge. Her chest was   
   beginning to sprout the cutest little breasts I have ever seen. Not   
   quite big enough to need the support of a traditional bra, so they were   
   still contained by her little training bras. I loved to just hold her   
   little bras up to my face and inhale her scent.   
      
   When my mother left for work in the mornings and my sister was still   
   asleep, I would go into her room with only my boxers on and just watch   
   her sleep. I could not help but get aroused staring at my sister's cute   
   preteen face as she slept, oblivious to the fact that her brother was   
   pleasuring himself only feet away from her. I would usually pull on my   
   hard cock for 10 to 15 minutes and then finish up by grabbing a pair of   
   her soiled panties and pushing the crotch area up to my face and   
   sniffing her sweet girlish scent. This was at the point when she began   
   to menstruate so the smell of her pussy began to intensify and gain a   
   more seasoned scent to it. I would do this for years. It was a ritual   
   of mine ever since I was about 17 or so.   
      
   Like everything else, however, it got bland. I needed to go further, I   
   needed to express my desire for my sister and make love to her like I   
   have been fantasizing about doing for nearly a decade and what has   
   seemed like a century.   
      
   Just when I thought everything was spiraling downhill and I was going   
   to do something I may regret later, I met a girl...   
      
   Vicky was a little 16 year old, petite and small for her age, but   
   nothing abnormal. She had long brown hair that was identical to my   
   sister's and her face was a spitting image of my little Sarah. She even   
   had a similar personality. This was probably the reason I fell head   
   over heels, so I thought, for her. We met at a metal concert that was   
   taking place near my neighborhood. We instantly hit it off and began   
   talking about bands, which then led to small talk about ourselves,   
   which eventually led to me asking her out on a date. She didn't even   
   seem bothered by the age difference, so I thought it was a great   
   situation.   
      
   We started having sex pretty much right off the bat. It was the second   
   or third date when we finally rounded third base. Sex with her was   
   excellent. It was a great way for me to vent my pent-up sexual urges   
   for my sister that I had built up over all these years. I think there   
   was only one instance when I was actually thinking about Vicky as we   
   were fornicating. I was always picturing my little sister's frail   
   little body and the thought of me and her just making love in her   
   bedroom, in her little bed that had princess-themed sheets and little   
   dolls scattered about.   
      
   I love the feeling I get when I soak up the atmosphere while standing   
   inside little Sarah's room. Just me, a full grown man, standing in a   
   little girl's room with a throbbing hard-on, jacking off to my little   
   sister. Her bright pink walls, lace everywhere and the unforgettable   
   scent of a precious Lolita as she lay there in her bed.   
      
   My thoughts were racing every time Vicky and I had sex. It was obvious   
   that she would eventually ask what was wrong or what was on my mind,   
   especially the time that I actually moaned and uttered the word "Sarah"   
   as I stuffed my little 16 year old girlfriend's tight little pussy.   
      
   "Jon!! What did you just say?" Vicky asked. "Who the fuck is Sarah?"   
      
   "Oh it's no one. I'm just high as fuck, sorry Vicky." I thought it   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)