When I was eighteen, my year was rather eventful to say the least. I got my cherry popped on prom night, which began an incredible hot and sex-filled relationship with my boyfriend. Then my mom got remarried to this guy who had a son three months younger than me. He was really hot himself and we began to flirt playfully with each other. I would catch him staring out the window at me as I lay by the pool, so I really began teasing him. Our playing escalated to where we would kiss and touch each other. Then one Friday night in July, I had this evening date with my boyfriend where we had planned to go back to the hotel where I gave him my virginity. We had a fight and I made him take me home. I was in my bedroom all hot and bothered and thought of my step-brother. I thought maybe he could help. So, I put on my sexy lingerie I had planned for my boyfriend and went to his bedroom door. He was watching TV, so I eased in, blocked his view, told him I had something for him to see, and dropped the robe. His mouth fell open and I noticed a definite rise in him. I crawled up on his bed and told him to take me now. He got undressed, crawled on top of me, and began teasing me. I could tell how excited he was by how hard he was shaking. Then he did the sweetest thing, he asked me if it was okay for him to have sex with me. I told him that if he didn't, I was going to cut his favorite part off. He grinned okay, and then we had sex. I am glad we left the sound up on his TV because I yelled in ecstasy. It has been nearly twenty years and we still do it over holidays. I am still sore from my Christmas present to him.
— Emily, 36