Family Values

Family Values

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

Jill loves like few could imagine. Her special family shares their love in most exciting ways, their deep bonds exceed their expectations. What started as adventurous sex grew into relationships that sustained them through a cataclysm that would challenge the hardiest of souls.

Summary

Jill loves like few could imagine. Her special family shares their love in most exciting ways, their deep bonds exceed their expectations. What started as adventurous sex grew into relationships that sustained them through a cataclysm that would challenge the hardiest of souls.

Chapter1 (v.1) - That Really Hurt

Author Chapter Note

Jill loves like few could imagine. Her special family shares their love in most exciting ways, their deep bonds exceed their expectations. What started as adventurous sex grew into relationships that sustained them through a cataclysm that would challenge the hardiest of souls.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: November 11, 2015

Reads: 20649

Comments: 6

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: November 11, 2015

A A A

A A A

Chapter 1 - That Really Hurt

 

I stood on the porch watching my niece walk away, she was determined to lose her virginity that evening.  She was ready I think, and an appropriate age, 18 and a half.  She had been dating the guy for a couple months.  As she headed off, she turned back with a sheepish smile and gave a little wave.  I smiled back, I had told her not to worry about the first time, that it might hurt a little at first, but that she should be enjoying herself before too long.  I told her that it was just the beginning and not to stress. I hoped the advice I gave her, and had given her in the past, made the start of her full sexual experiences satisfying and rewarding.  I have always been close to her, I have a bunch of nieces and nephews, but she is extra special.  I have always played the role of the “cool aunt” with her.  Her mom, my older sister is very conservative and a little clueless about relating to a teenager who is wicked smart, athletic and fearless, since she is very much not most of those things.  She’s smart enough, but her daughter is just someone she cannot relate to.  So I was the one to talk to her about her maturing body, how to handle her period and so on.  Now that she is 18, we are relating more as adult friends and I was surprised to learn that she is still a virgin.  She “came close” several times, she related, but never felt ready.  She asked about my early experiences with sex, making me relive and remember in detail.  She heard some of the basics, but since she is still my sister’s daughter, I couldn’t be totally candid. 

In fact while we were talking just a bit before, I smiled a little as I sat feeling, just a little, the residual of my spanking earlier that afternoon from him.  I had a shitty day at work, left early, and found him sitting on the couch.  I just climbed on his lap and flipped up my skirt - he handled the rest.  In a little while, with a warm ass and full of his come, all sweaty, and very satisfied with a couple hard orgasms, I felt ever so much better and totally forgot why I had a shitty day. He was returning the favor I guess of the one I gave him the night before, he knows l like it now and then - well they all know that.  How I got there over his knee, and the others you’ll hear about, is a fantastic tale.  I feel lucky to have had the men, lovers and friends that I have had, and am grateful for the courage and abandon I had to embrace my sexuality and many wonderful experiences. After she was out of sight,  I came back in and poured a glass of wine and thought it was time to write the story of my unique family that I’m so excited to be part of, when I come home we never really know who’s getting what from whom. 

In high school I was an athletic nerd.  I was pretty skinny and an accomplished distance runner.  Schoolwork was important to me, but came pretty easy so I didn’t have to work too hard.  I am very good at math and tested at the top of my class most of the time.  High school boys are usually either intimidated usually by this type of girl, or aren’t interested.  I wasn’t much of a looker I guess either, as I said skinny and sporting a few pimples regularly.  Running was my endorphin high and probably kept me from looking much like a woman in high school.  I’ve read that endurance athletes have later first periods and generally slowed female development, I think that was my case as well.  It wasn’t really until my senior year that any relationship with a boy had more than friend or study partner attached to it.  It was one of the smart boys who I had grown up with who became more than a friend for a short period before he went off to Northwestern and me to Berkeley.  We were complaining about the maturity of the opposite sex at high school, and how what they were looking for were not us.  I think it occurred to both of us at the same time that a little sexual experimentation would be fun.  That’s really what it was, we liked each other, but were not in love. 

It started with a running injury that took me out of the last part of track season and ultimately ended by running “career” just due to the timing.  While consoling me at home shortly after the injury, he was feeling the injured leg and we both let his hands wander.  What followed was some very inexperienced petting and eventually lead to some very hurried encounters in his home and mine.  It was fun watching him ejaculate, I gave him several handjobs just to watch him cum.  I would feel his balls and learned how his prostate would pulse while releasing his teenage load.  I learned though if you lean too close you might get some on your face and hair.  We laughed a little and I think he liked that, once I tasted it as I aimed it at my open mouth.  We actually had sex a few times, but it was not relaxed sex or sex with abandon.  Just the “hurry before your mom gets home” kind.  Nice boy and we’re actually still friends - no regrets on either side.  It was fun experimentation.

About this time, I decided that running would be a hobby and I let go my competitive aspirations.  I later figured that this was the trigger for a rather significant change in my physique.  I had been training enough that I really didn’t look too much like a woman.  While recovering and waiting to go off to college I noticed my breasts get larger, and I had hips!  Much to my delight, my acne cleared up too.  So although not really confident about my looks or my desirability, I was more of a woman by the time I went off to Berkeley.

My focus at Cal was initially all academic and getting used to the routine.  I was in the nicest dorm, Clark Kerr campus, up on the edge of the Berkeley Hills.  After the first round of midterms where I did pretty well, I became more confident in my ability and began to indulge in more of the college experience.  I started to stay out a little later, increased my circle of friends, and began to attend more parties.  I think my hormones had mostly been on pause in high school but I don’t know why, but I think I got hit with them all at once.  I found myself staring at every halfway decent looking young man’s ass.  Any sexual need had usually been serviced by a quick little masturbation, a little harder with a roommate than in your room at home but, you know, enough to keep you sane.  The orgasms were nice but not super intense, I mean you know what’s coming, when and how.  With my little fingers is all...

During one of the parties I noticed a man who seemed a little older, a junior I would find out later.  He was the friend of our dorm RA, another junior, who was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in person.  It was obvious that most of the guys noticed this too, can’t say I blame them though, because even the girls talked about her and wondered why she wasn’t a model, wish they could have her face, her butt etc.  This man was fit, an avid mountain biker, as I overheard a few conversations with a couple of his riding buddies.  Although he would drink at parties, never to extreme, and he always seemed to be witty.  My RA, who had taken a bit of a shine to me (to my surprise) noticed my lingering stares on Jason.  She encouraged me to talk to him, but I was intimidated I guess.  Boys and relationships were never my thing, as I said, and a really good looking and older man wasn’t to be my first “college try” I thought.

One Friday party, there was an annoying guy who had one beer too many, just being loud and stupid, not in a showoff way- but just spouting ultra-left liberal nonsense about the US government and the military ruining everything everywhere.  I am annoyed by this type of person, either ultra-left or ultra-right, because they clearly cannot process that things are complicated sometimes, or see any validity in any argument other than their own.  Apparently this buffoon thought that Jason also needed to benefit from his wisdom.  Jason just tipped his head, put his hand on his shoulder and said “You know a lot a brave men fought for your right to spout nonsense”.  I added that “Hopefully brave men in Iran (I think that’s what he was going on about) will fight for their future generations to talk ill of their government without being hung from a construction crane”.  Jason looked at me and smiled.  I thought was the first time he noticed me.  We talked a little, I’m not sure I made any sense because I just kept looking at him, into his eyes, his strong arms and shoulders.  Afterward I felt so stupid, like a giddy shallow schoolgirl and I muttered to myself all the way back to my dorm room.

The beautiful RA, Ingrid, mentioned a couple days later that she would like to try climbing with me.  I had become a regular, as I enjoyed the challenge and exercise, as it wasn’t mindless repetitions on a machine.  I arranged for my belaying partner to meet us there.  Ingrid had tried once before, but was not yet a belayer.  We got her all set up and we set off climbing routes all over the gym.  Ingrid created a quite a stir, especially climbing, as I noticed distracted guys looking at her wonderful body splayed on the wall, or suspended by the rope with her legs spread walking down the wall.  Several other climbers had to yell “slack” to their distracted belayers.  My friend and I just smiled - really couldn’t blame them.  About 10 minutes into our climbing, I noticed Jason show up with a few friends.  Although I had been a regular, I had never seen him there before.  His first climb up let me know he was an expert, although not the best at the gym, he moved fluidly and with strength, tackling some of the most difficult routes in the gym.  I spied a little and he came over to say hello to Ingrid.  Ingrid suggested to Jenny, my belaying friend, “Why don’t Jenny and I go to the easy part of the gym and Jason can belay you here.”  

“K” I said, with all the conversational wit I could muster.  I tied in silently as he told his friend he would be busy for a bit.  I climbed a decent route and came down.  He said, “I’m impressed” and acted surprised when I said I had been climbing just a few months - he was being nice I figured, although not weighing much gave me good ‘power to weight’ that is important for climbing.  He said “your turn”, meaning I should belay him.  Now I weighed about 105 and was a towering 5’2” in my tallest shoes (which were 1 inch heels - I hate heels).  Jason was about 180 lb, 6 foot and chiseled.  

“I’m too small” I protested.

“Use the pig”, he smiled.

These are weight bags for just this problem, you hook them to your harness to add ballast should the climber fall, or for the belay down when all his weight would be suspended.  While he tied in I hooked myself up to the smaller one, this would be a mistake, also since I had never used one before I just clipped it to my loop in front.  This would also be a mistake.  “Ready?”, he said.  “On belay”, I replied.  He was attempting one of the most difficult routes in the gym and smoothly moved up 20 feet or so, making very difficult moves look pretty easy.  I was enjoying the view, I admit, since I could stare closely at him and have a good excuse.  I had noticed his smallish hands and feet, but also noticed the harness seems to be around something pretty large, made me wonder if the rule of small hands/feet meant a small “package” was probably not true.  I smiled to myself for being so shallow, but as I said my young woman biology was running at full tilt.  “Show off” I hollered, and this would be the jinx of course.  He laughed and slipped while making a sideways reach.  Since I had been not keeping some of the slack tight, he fell several feet before the rope went taut and launched me off the gym floor, I had too much slack in the tie to the pig.  My feet were several feet off the ground and I did a kind of pirouette with a half twist and cartwheel, oscillating around my harness.  I was rotating with my feet bouncing above my head in a rhythmic roll.  During the first roll I noticed that Jason was in a similar precarious nearly upside down position.  I was holding onto the rope tightly, so as to be a good belayer.  He reached for the wall.  During the second rotating cartwheel, some combination of the harness, rope, and strap attached to the pig assaulted me in the most intimate way.  I got pinched or whipped by something right in the most sensitive part of my body.  All Jason’s bouncing weight got transferred to my clitoris by the damn strap or whatever, it was like a pinch or twist or something.  So I’m oscillating in my ridiculous suspended cartwheel, while the pig and I are getting dragged closer to the wall.  Jason is pretty much upside down too, getting dragged along his side and back on the abrasive wall and holds.  So this pain was like nothing else I have felt, I mean it really hurt, and I started my next effort to impress Jason and everyone else in the gym - who by this time had pretty much gathered about watching the spectacle.  I starting cursing like a sailor, I mean it really fucking hurt.  After some time, probably a few seconds but seemed like longer, a couple guys grabbed me and the rope and after a little time lowered Jason down, with me tumbling after.  Jason was laughing, as was most of the gym.  I was still writhing in some pain when Jason said “Well now that went well”.  I then said loudly, to my significant embarrassment, “You ASSHOLE!”

OK, I don’t know why I called him an asshole, I think I had used up all the other swear words I knew reacting to the pain in my crotch.  I was pretty much just holding my pussy at this point, now quietly swearing and Jason’s expression changed.  I staggered into the women’s locker room.  I quickly loosened my harness, dropped it as well as my shorts and panties and inspected the damage.  My clit was now red and starting to swell and still hurt like a sonofabitch, I was still swearing- Ingrid was next to me now, and quietly suggested cold water.  I started my shower with my shirt and bra still on, threw them over the curtain after a few minutes of cold water.  I saw Ingrid’s feet come and she picked them up - she starting drying them in the hand dryer.  I just stood in the cold water, eventually becoming more numb, directing the water right above my injury.  The cold water had its effect and my mind wandered to my performance that evening.  I actually cried a little, crybaby I know...

Can’t help but be embarrassed after something like that.  After 15 minutes in the shower, now cold but feeling better, I came out.  Ingrid smiled, handed me a towel, and gave me a hug.  She wrapped my hair in another towel.  

I said, “I’m such a bitch”.

“Why?”

“I called him an asshole!”

“He has already forgiven or forgotten I bet”

…“You know my pussy hurts...”

“Ask him to kiss it better.”

I laughed a little, “I don’t think he’s interested in a woman who just called him an asshole for no reason”

She just smiled and said, “He sure as hell was staring hard during your climb” but she added, “So was pretty much every guy in the place.”

”You’re just trying to make me feel better”

“You have the best body I have seen, but you were a late bloomer I bet.  All you wear around school is ill fitting jeans and a too loose T-shirt.  I mean you look fine, but no one can really see you - here in your tight little shorts and shirt, you create quite a stir.  She pulled off my towel, we were standing in front of a full length mirror.  “Just look at yourself like you were looking at someone else.  I love your muscles on your arms and lats- strong and sleek”.  This started a tour of my body as she touched and pointed, like a more beautiful Vanna White.  “Your breasts are young, full, and perky.  And if those nipples were hard because you were horny instead of cold, a man would feel most proud of himself.  Oh, and I want your six pack and those beautiful thighs - you have that little gap between your thighs, and don’t get me started on your firm butt!  When you bend over for a man naked, he’ll remember that view until he dies!”

I smiled, “OK goofball, thanks for cheering me up.”

And she added, “Today it looks like you have a bright red cherry over your pussy!”

We laughed, she was right, I was properly red.

This whole shower, feeling better, and dressing took almost 45 minutes and as we exited the locker room I saw Jason slouched in a chair.  He looked up, he had been waiting - I wanted to hide, run away or something - instantly embarrassed again.

“I’m so sorry” we both said at about the same time.

“What are you sorry for?  You didn’t do anything and I called you an asshole for no reason!”

“Well in fact I did, and the gym manager chewed my ass for 15 minutes and told me several times what an idiot I was, and that I am banned for a month.”

“I’m really sorry Jason, I got hit or pinched really hard in, in … well my girly bits.  It hurt bad and … I’m sorry.”

“The whole thing was my fault, I didn’t check the ties and the setup, you never did that before I’m sure, and well ...it should have never happened.  I was distracted I guess.”

“Thanks for being nice about me being mean.”

“That’s involuntary - not mean.  I mean when a guy gets nailed in the balls, swearing is the first thing that happens...at least when you can talk again.”


© Copyright 2017 Jill Watson. All rights reserved.

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