"Clare" - Chapter 4:- “A Little More About Me” - Sex Stories

"Clare" - Chapter 4:- “A Little More About Me”

... much has happened in the four years since then. During David’s and my first meeting on that sandy south coast beach; I had told my boyfriend that my hair colour was down to my Celtic ancestry and maybe it was. But I didn’t know. I certainly wasn’t going to tell him that my hair colour made me feel like the mongrel of the family.

A rapid knock on the bathroom door caught my attention.

“I need to use the bathroom. I got to pee.”

It was my nine-year-old brother, Paul.

With a sigh, I flushed the chain and put my long, grey nighty back on. Especially in the mornings, you never get long in the bathroom. I opened the locked door and carefully walked past my rushing, inward-bound brother.

“Don’t wee on the floor,” I warned him as he urgently closed the door and then locked it.

I couldn’t help teasing him; it was the sister in me. But my comment came with a price, in the form of another stab of pain from my sore pussy and then the inevitable wince which followed.

On re-entering the bedroom, I gingerly eased my backside into my bed, knowing that later on, I needed a long soak in the bath and plenty more dollops of nappy cream.

It was only then I heard a familiar voice. “Been whoring again?”

It was from my seventeen-year-old sister, Ella, whom I unfortunately shared a bedroom with.

“You need to get laid; then you won’t be so jealous.” I rebuffed. As normal, she seemed too uptight.

But my comment caused another twinge of discomfort from my sore pussy. ...

... It was a reminder that this morning was not the time for verbal fights with my sister.

Luckily, Ella didn’t feel like bitching with me, either. She just huffed and then rolled over on the top bunk to face the wall and then read.

We hadn’t got on since we had become older teenagers, Ella only being just over twelve months younger than me. Our parents seem to have chosen to have their children, two by two, with me the oldest, then Ella. There was a gap of almost ten years before Paul, and then fifteen months later, Colin. He was the youngest and the baby of the house, though you dare not mention baby and Colin in the same sentence if you want an easy life.

In my and my sister’s bedroom, our bunk beds were shaped like an L. I was on the bottom bunk, with my head in the room and my feet towards the wall. Yes, even at nearly nineteen, I slept in a bunk bed as there was simply no other way of getting the beds into the room. That is, if we both wanted our own wardrobes and a chest of draws. The other piece of furniture in the room was a large desk, which we both shared; it sat in the bay window.

It also didn’t help that we shared a bedroom. While I am neat and tidy, Ella was simply messy, with all her items scattered across the bedroom floor or, as she would put it, “They are all to hand.”

But there was one thing which my sister and I firmly agreed on.It united us. We needed a lock on the bedroom door to stop our two younger brothers from barging in on us when we ...