My Formative Sexual Years

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Part 1

Me, my uncle, a car and my school uniform.

This is an unusual tale. It’s unbelievably, broadly true, but embellished here and there, for obvious reasons. It sort of runs alongside my main story on here, “The Sexual Bio” job, but it goes further and deeper into my early days.

In some ways there is a serious side to this. There is an aspect of my writing that is set apart from gaining and giving sexual pleasure, which I get from writing and hope you gain from reading me!

I think I am complicated. I don’t understand what I am and what makes me what I am. I don’t know why I have such views and beliefs with regard to morals or, more to the point lack of them, and I can’t understand why I continually feel able to test the boundaries of my sexual feelings and sexuality.

Writing helps me try to find answers to these questions. On the other hand I might just be a spoiled bitch that likes being fucked. Who knows?


Chapter 1

I was just eighteen when I first met you. Eighteen in years that is, not in mind or body, though. In those areas I was well into my twenties. I had always been old for my years. As a child I had always preferred being with older friends. And now as a, near, woman, I preferred older men.

I had just lost my virginity. It had been slightly traumatic, not because I lost it, had pain, bled or regretted it. No, the trauma was that I lost it to my uncle, my dad’s brother. My dad is 42, Clive, my uncle is 35. We had always been quite close, but since I had started ‘blossoming'” as a young woman we had got a whole lot closer. I won’t go into great detail, but we had been at a family party and mum, dad and I were staying at my aunt, mum’s sister, and uncle Clive’s house. My mum and dad went off with some friends to a casino and Clive was co-opted to drive me to his home, his wife is a stewardess and was away, Hong Kong , I think.

As we walked across the parking area in the grounds of his sprawling house, Clive slid his arm round me, his hand rested on the swell of my hip, almost on my bum: a bit unusual I thought, but it didn’t worry or concern me.

I was wearing jeans and a thin silky top with lace on it. It had spaghetti straps, one of which kept falling down. I thought I looked really cool and sexy.

“Would you like me to make a coffee or something?” I asked when we were inside his house.

“Well I would like something like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Depends what’s on offer?”

“I’ll make the coffee or tea or, do you mean a real drink?”


“So a drink, what can I get you?” I said as we stood in the kitchen looming at each other.

“If that’s all that’s on offer Sam,” Clive said with a big smile, “then I’ll have a beer.”

Although we often laughed and joked like this, Clive appeared to be more serious than usual and, I thought, some of his remarks were rather ‘near the knuckle.’

I went to the fridge and got him a Bud. I walked over to where he was leaning back against the work surface taking the top off as I did. He didn’t move. I went closer. He held his hand out, but only a little way, so I had to go even closer. He took the bottle with one hand and dropped the other onto my hip.

“Sammi you look absolutely fantastic today,” He said softly.

“Do I Clive?” I replied a little surprised at both him saying that and the way it made me feel, especially his hand on my hip.

“Good enough to eat,” he smiled.

“Aren’t I always?” I flirted.

“Yes, but now you’re eighteen you are more womanly, you’re not a little girl any more.”

That made me feel good, I liked being told I acted and looked older than my eighteen years.

“Do you really think so?”

“Yes, you are a real woman now. You must know that Sam.” Clive said his hand applying slightly more pressure to my hip. I moved a little closer.

“Am I?”

“Well are you Sam? I don’t know do I?”

“Don’t know what?”

“Whether you are a woman,” he paused before adding. “Yet? Are you”

I got what he meant. “Well no. If you mean what I think you mean?”

He pulled me nearer. Where he was leaning back, his stomach, thighs and, of course, his cock were sticking out. My pubic mound inside my jeans was almost touching his very obvious bulge. That excited me.

“So little Sammi is still a virgin is she?”

Clive said pulling me that tad nearer so I was now touching him. My mound was just touching his bulge, not squashed or pressed together, but definitely touching. It was a nice feeling.

“Yes,” I whispered as I felt his hand go round my waist.

“And does Sammi want to stay a virgin?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered feeling his hand pressing right on my bra strap, moving me closer, making the contact between us even firmer. My tummy was now against his bulge, my chest just a little way from his and my face close to his.

“A girl or a woman Sammi.”

“I know,” I sort of whimpered as the pressure mounted on my back, bending me forward from the waist. Our tummies were escort bursa pressing together, my breasts were just touching his chest, my face was alongside his, his mouth was by my ear.

“A child Sammi, a little girl or, a grown woman. What do you want to be,” he breathed into my ear.

“Oh Clive you know what I want.” I moaned as he pulled me, almost roughly, against him, crushing my breasts against his chest and squashing his hard bulge into my stomach.

“Do you want me to help Sammi?”

“I don’t know. How do you mean?”

“Help you become a woman?” He asked as he ran his hands up and down my back and further onto the swell of my bum cheeks. “Help you stop being a little girl Sammi?” He asked as his hands gripped the cheeks of my bum.

“How? What? What do you mean?” I stammered as my mound was crushed against his hard cock. He had somehow wiggled his body so that his erection was released from the restrictions of his boxers; so that his cock was rearing straight up his belly, so that his hardness was pressed firmly into the softness of my tummy, so that the base of his cock was wedged firmly against the end of my pussy and so that his cock was firmly against my clit.

He moved his body a little so that he sort of started to dry fuck me. I became putty in his hands. And even more so when he held my chin with his thumb and forefinger, turned my face so that we were just inches apart, our eyes locked and our mouths were just inches apart.

“I mean Sammi, do you want me to help you become a woman?” He asked.

I know it sounds daft, but it did seem to be the perfect solution. I had held onto my ‘cherry’ long enough and well past most of my mates, even thought I boasted that I hadn’t. I wanted to ‘do it’ properly for the first time, but had this awful conflict between lust and sex. My upbringing had persuaded me to think you only had sex with someone you loved, and certainly my mum had always drummed it into me not to give my virginity up to any ‘Tom, Dick or Harry.”

On the other hand I wasn’t ready to fall in love, I didn’t want to settle down, I was off to university soon and I didn’t want to ‘leave baggage’ at home like a boy friend.

So in my, very slightly, tipsy state, I don’t drink much usually, and my extremely aroused state I realised that he cetainly didn’t have any of those names, I loved him as an uncle and he would not be ‘excess baggage.’ So, I thought, the perfect ‘cherry plucker;’ the ultimate way to lose my virginity so I heard myself sigh.

“Yes, Clive I do,” just before his mouth closed round mine and he kissed me so wonderfully.

I was so torn. I had the most enormous conflicts. But then at eighteen, girls do. We have conflicts about many things. And at that age most of them are concerned with boys and sex. I was torn by both, plus another issue. It was my uncle who was propositioning me, who was offering me sex, who was suggesting he turn me into a woman, remove my virginity. Yes it was my dad’s 35 year old brother who was asking to fuck me.

“A little girl or, a woman, Sam?” He whispered pulling my body fully against his and slipping his tongue into my ear.

I was so turned on, so emotionally excited and physically aroused.

“Sam?” He persisted.

“Oh God, Clive.” I groaned squirming my sex ravaged body against him. His chest was broad and firm, his arms around me strong and tight and, of course, his erection was hard and seemed enormous.

“What is it to be baby?” He asked licking my ear, stroking my back and squeezing a cheek of my bum.

I suddenly felt bold. I knew what I wanted, what should happen, what was needed.

“Make me a woman,” I moaned just before he slid his hand between us and cupped my breast.

Chapter 2

My deflowering was beautiful and disgusting, exciting and scary, wonderful and daunting, satisfying and concerning, but in most ways, it was just simply fucking amazing.

Once I had moaned, “Make me a woman Clive,” a number of inevitable consequences ensued:

He kissed me on the mouth, he opened his lips and pushed his tongue into my mouth. That was fine, I enjoyed snogging and was good and ‘experienced’ at it

I responded by opening my mouth and, tentatively at first as I didn’t want to make mistakes and have him think what a kid I am, pushing my tongue against his. It was nice.

His hand found my breast. He fondled it so much more assertively than the boys I had been with previously. He didn’t hesitate either, like they had. No, directly I was kissing him back he cupped my breast, found my nipple and pinched that, quite hard. He handled my breasts as if it was his right, not by ‘invitation only’ from me. I liked the way he took control.

He slipped his hand inside my top, stroked my breasts through my bra and slid his fingers inside it, right on to my bare tit, right on my naked, hardened nipple. It really was lovely.

He grasped the cheeks of my bum, squeezed them and pulled on them forcing my mound and tummy against his erection, bursa yabancı escort which he pumped up and down a bit. I squirmed against it, the feelings were so wonderful.

He slipped the spaghetti straps off my shoulders, he pulled the flimsy top down around my waist and played with my tits that he had now edged out of my bra.

He whispered, “Take it off for me Sammi.” I did, almost instantly and very eagerly. I suddenly wanted to flaunt my bare tits at my uncle.

He put his hands on my shoulders, pushed me away a little and looked at me. No one had ever done that before, simply stared at my bare boobs. His gaze seemed to burn into my breasts, which felt so hot and heavy and tingly.

“Beautiful, just beautiful Sammi, I will be so good to you, I will be so gentle for you.”

He kissed my breasts, he licked them, took the nipples one by one into his mouth and sucked and chewed them.

I was moaning and groaning, sighing and grunting as each new and super-powerful sensation hit me. It kept going through my head that I was going to lose my virginity, be deflowered and lose my cherry. Yes, I couldn’t help thinking, my uncle is going to fuck me and make me a woman.

I had, of course read about such things, but I had never been lifted up and carried to bed. But that’s exactly what Clive did. Putting one arm round my shoulders and the other round my legs under my knees, he carried me, bare breasted, our mouths clamped together up the stairs.

He gently laid me on the double bed, in what I took to be his and his wife’s bedroom, I had never been upstairs in his house before.

He laid me right in the middle and simply stared at me.

I have small breasts, 32 b, but with fairly prominent nipples and rather puffy areolas. They are coral pink and seems to be super-sensitive. They are also extremely reactive and were standing proudly erect for him.

“God you are gorgeous.” He said standing beside the bed.

Still staring at me he undid his shirt and peeled it off. A little gasp escaped from my mouth when I saw his upper body nakedness and his great physique. I imagined my breasts squashed against him and realised that very shortly that would be happening; my legs went weak at the thought of being crushed against him.

Still holding my gaze his fingers went to his belt. And then in a display of sexual confidence the like of which I had only read about, he undid his belt, slid his zip down and pushed his trousers, pants and socks off all in one go. He stood before me naked.

A longer gasp, more like a moan slipped out of my lips at seeing him standing there, completely nude, hugely erect and ready to have me.

“Oh Clive?” I groaned, partly at how wonderful he looked, partly at how big he was, partly at what was about to happen, but mainly at his confidence and assurance. I had no idea that men could be so comfortable with their aroused nudity as he was.

He smiled.

“You like, Sammi?”

I nodded, I don’t think I could have formed words so excited had I become.

His fingers ran up the length of his erection, which itself reached his naval. I had touched and seen several boys’ cocks, but never a man’s.

“You like this Sammi?” He asked holding it in his hands as if about to masturbate. “Is that what you want my dear? Is that what you want to make you a woman?” He asked kneeling on the bed beside me.

His leg just above the knee pressed against my bare side, just above my waist. I could smell him; a combination of aftershave and male muskiness, I could feel his hard, coarse, hairy leg on my skin. I thought I could also feel his warmth, the heat streaming from his erection that was level with my face and just inches away.

“Let’s get these off,” he mumbled undoing the button on my jeans and sliding the zip down. He pulled on the waist band and I lifted my bum to help him. I was surprised when he left my panties on, saying. “I think we’ll leave that little beauty right there for a while. I was wearing a little thong. Pale blue and lacy, it was tiny and barely hid my sparse thatch of blondish pubes. It had a thin strap at the back which snuggled between the rounded, firm and pert cheeks of my bum, my best feature a boy had told me.

“Mmmm that looks fantastic,” Clive said as he lay beside me and kissed my breasts.

He took my hand and pushed it downwards, between us and onto him.

“Touch me Sam, feel me, stroke me.” He sighed quietly.

I had no alternative, even if I had wanted one, which I didn’t. I wanted to feel him, touch him, stroke him and rub him. Yes I wanted to hold my uncle’s cock in my hand. In fact I wanted my dad’s brother’s cock right up my cunt.

And that is exactly where he put it just moments later.

“I’m not on the pill,” I suddenly remembered to blurt out as he pulled me against him, kissed me and caressed my boobs.

“That’s alright lovely,” he smiled brushing my hair away from my eyes. “I was going to wear a condom in any case, we don’t want bursa escort any web feeted second cousins running around do we?” He said, rather undiplomatically of the taboo we were breaking.

“Take your knickers off then,” he said with incrdible assurance as with no embarrassment or anything he undid a packet and slid a rubber, a blue one, I noted, onto his cock.

It was all so different to how I had thought it would be. I had imagined a fumbling fuck, possibly in a car, with a young bloke who knew little more than me about what we were doing. Not this confident, assured, quite dominating, but incredibly arousing display: but then I guess and have learned since, that’s what you get with older men. Wonderful, sorry boys.

It didn’t take long. It was just a short time from when he lay naked beside me and slid the rubber onto his cock, to when he rolled on top of me.

“Open your legs Sammi,” he whispered slithering himself downwards.

It was just moments from then until I felt the tip of his cock against the opened lips of my pussy.

“Keep your legs open until I am well inside you,” he instructed. “That way you won’t feel any pain.

He was right. As he slowly and carefully slid himself up me I didn’t feel any pain, well not much, just a bit of stretching, but nothing from my hymen. I smiled to myself, thinking that enough fingers had been wiggled up there to have, presumably sorted that out.


“Yes, yes it’s fine” I gasped amazed at the feeling of being filled up, it was quite different to what I had imagined. I felt completeyly filled up: I realised then, as Clive lay there still, his rigid cock embedded deep me where the expression ‘being stuffed’ came from: I had thought something to do with turkey’s or chickens. Now I knew.

“You sure Sam, no pain or anything?” He asked, kissing me.

“No, no nothing like that Clive,” I croaked back as I broke my lips from his.

“Ok then, baby let’s make you a real woman,” he sort of growled as he started to pump up and down.

I was too nervous I guess, too tense and uptight to cum, well the first time that is. But an hour or so later, after he had massaged me, played with me, kissed my tits and sucked my nipples. I did cum. And by Christ was it wonderful!

Chapter 3

With the small matter of losing my virginity out of the way, I felt could get on with being a ‘woman.’

“I’ll pick you up after school on Monday and we can go for a drive for a couple of hours. Ok?” he said, as he dressed and I went to one of the guest bedrooms and slipped into bed, now wonderfully a woman. I just wished it would have been possible to spend the night in bed with Clive, his arms around me, our naked bodies pressed together. As I was thinking that, hoping he would pop in and kiss me goodnight and considering masturbating, I heard a car in the driveway. It had been quite a tight thing, for we had been in bed screwing less than ten minutes before I heard their car pull into the drive.

“Thanks for looking after Sammi,” I heard my dad say to Clive on the landing outside my slightly ajar door.

“No problem at all, she was a delight to look after.”

“Hey I’m not a kid you know,” I called out.

“No,” Clive said hesitating before going on after a pause. “………you’re very much a young woman now Sam.”

Although I was in the upper sixth form and would be going to uni soon, the snobby all girls, public school I attended still insisted on ‘high standards’ of dress code; everyone had to wear school uniform. Striped blazer, blue gingham, check skirt in Summer, plain, blue wool one in Winter, white shirt and school tie and worst of all, fucking, white knee-length socks, that I detested.

On the Monday, at the break before school ended, there was I in the loo slipping out of my regulation school bra and panties and into a silky, lacy bra and thong. It felt odd sitting in the English lesson wearing that sort of gear under my school uniform, for I’d never done that before.

There was absolutely no way on God’s earth I wanted Clive to see me in my school uniform. It screamed out that I was just a kid and not the sophisticated lover he’d had a few days before. But what could I do? I had no alternative. It wasn’t allowed for pupils to change out of school uniform in the school or within half a mile of leaving it. And he’d said he’d meet me just round the corner from the main entrance, so I was literally fucked wasn’t I? Still, I hadreconciled over the weekend, if the price I had to pay for really being fucked was to be seen in my school uniform then it was worth it.

Luckily I still had the, nearly, all over tan I’d got in Florida at half term and that had been topped up on my legs by the recent, unusually warm spring weather. I could, therefore, wear mid height heels without tights after I slipped the regulation, white knee-length socks off as I was leaving the school. Walking down the school drive I hitched my skirt up a bit to, as far as a girl could, look sexy in her school uniform.

“Oh my God, babe,” he croaked as he kissed me when I got in the car. “You look absolutely fucking ravenous, your every man’s wet dream, come here let me kiss you.”

I thought he meant because I had rolled the skirt up and was showing quite a lot of leg, although I didn’t like the red marks just beneath my knees where the socks had been.

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