While I touched and caressed my sister, I fucked aunty Helen. A very different and great scene formed by my fantasy creating mind to get rid of the mo...her fucking guilt. What a shame; I could touch my sister but I could not fuck her. At times if I tried to fuck aunty Helen’s pussy and put my sister’s head on it, I simply could not look into her eyes without the guilt. Soon, I did not even need aunty Helen’s head. I could visualize my Vero’s body with a silhouette on top of it. This was much. She flatly refused to join me in barracks, and could also be sparing when dispensing the perquisites of marriage when I was home on leave, especially if her so called brother Martin was in the vicinity.That she had been under Martin Hodge's sexual and mental thrall from childhood was no fault of mine. If given the full facts earlier in our marriage I could have done something about it, and then there would have been no need of adultery on my part, or hers, and our married lives would have been. She hid her pubescent shame behind her palms first, but I told her to lift the apron for me she just proudly bit her lips and complied. The colour of her cheeks was ruby red , and I was sure that she stared into my groin. I got hard at once! But the vision of her little hairless slit, all dewy and moist from the tender punishment, the tiny red nub protruding from its pink sheets of tender meat, begging for sensual stimulation - all that was just too much for me! I admit here frankly and without. . He smiled and said "Oh no, I didn't mean it like that. I'm just not into girls, I think other things can be more interesting". As he sais those last words he stepped in a little closer to me and whispered "You think I didn't see you looking at me each time we crossed?". Now it was my time to blush and I even started to stammer as I tried to mutter some sort of reponse. He put his hand on my upper leg and said "No really, I would love to have legs like yours" and smiled.I was completely.
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