Part 1: Her 18th Birthday - Sex Stories

Part 1: Her 18th Birthday

... hairstyle, big dark eyes, luscious brown eyebrows, which I certainly won't pluck. But even though I've read so much about the right make-up, it seems to be harder than I thought.

However, my attempts to correct my appearance only make things worse. Annoyed, I break off and look in the mirror one last time. Damn, I look like 'The Bride of Frankenstein'.

That was probably nothing, I have to get rid of all the shit, and start all over again. Finally, after another hour, I look about like my role model. Now a little perfume, I got as a gift. After I had experimented with Mom in the past, I now know that I have to be frugal here. Once I had spilled so much of that stuff on me that Dad had laughed himself half to death. "I'll take you to the pigsty now, and it will be much easier for me to muck out there. I don't smell any of the shit anymore."

Now to put my clothes on. My new slippers. My toenails are already painted, red. Nothing can go wrong. My new blue skirt. I simply corrected the length a little by lifting the hem with pins. Now the thing doesn't fall so perfectly anymore, but his gaze shall not fall on my skirt, but on my legs. Panties? Nope, why complicate everything unnecessarily.

The white top, where a little bit of my little belly remains visible. Mom helped me a lot to get Dad's approval. He got a few extra kisses from her, right in the shop.

Bra is not necessary, it would be bad, I'm 18! I look in the big mirror at the box door, I've never dressed up so ...

... much before in my life. And I look great, not a single girl in the village comes close to me. Man, I can't wait any longer, how much is he going to like my looks? I can't get any more beautiful. I have exactly the typical look of the good farmer's daughter, who is about to pickle pickles, giggle!

I take the booklet I picked up the other day in town and go to the utility room, where the sterilized jars are already waiting for their new contents. I prepare the brine, according to Mom's recipe. As soon as I'm done, I hear Knut waddling down the steps with the first basket of cucumbers. There is no other way, you can only carry the large 40 kilo baskets over the stairs between your knees, hence the waddling.

I wait behind the staircase, so he can't see me. He pours the cucumbers onto the large stainless steel work surface and takes a deep breath. When he turns around to get the next load, he sees me.

I'm leaning against the basement wall, one leg pulled gracefully to the other. I smile sweetly at him and stick my chest out. My skirt covers a third of my thighs, and I play a little in my slippers with my toes.

He drops the empty basket, his jaw actually drops. His eyes come out like a hand-choked vineyard snail. Bingo! His mind is weak, but his body is willing. I can finally see that now!

He babbles something, I don't care, I walk up to him and take his pretty face in both hands. I pull him down to me and kiss him tenderly on the lips. He looks at me so sweetly for ...