A quiet provincial town, the same quiet provincial life... although I couldn't call my life quiet then, not even now.
I met my mother's second husband when I was almost an adult, as it seemed to me then, and having seen everything in life.
Alexander Ivanovich was younger than my mother, but even at thirty-six, he couldn't stop himself. Athletic, always clean-shaven and trimmed, in a fashionable jacket and polished shoes, it seemed to me that he aroused a feeling of lust in my companions, when from time to time, passing at lunchtime, he would pick me up after lunch at school to take me home.
These painted fools thought he wasn't just staring at me for nothing, gallantly opening the door of his black Mercedes CLS and sitting my ass in a leather seat. Although, I myself have caught this incomprehensibly mocking look from Alexander's gray eyes more than once. Speaking to myself, I could not call this man Alexander Ivanovich in any way, but now it seems to me that it would be more romantic to call him by his name and patronymic.
At school everyone called me a gray mouse, perhaps because of my fragile physique, or perhaps because of my character, thanks to which not only the boys I loved at that time, but also the teachers noticed me.
My body began to mature early, at the age of 9, a roundness appeared in the chest area, which at 15 became a full-fledged second size. Also at 15, and maybe even earlier, on the crotch, I noticed a little fluff. Nature somehow deprived my body, with the exception of the head, of course, with an abundance of hair, which I enjoy every day.
But regardless of physiological development, my sexual experience when I came of age was the same as kissing at the entrance of my house with a neighbor's boy, with whom I periodically met.
Alexander Ivanovich, as my mother said, married once at the age of 36 and had a son, my age, from his first wife. I saw Peter, that was the name of Alexander's son, only twice a year, all these two times that he came to visit his father and consequently to visit us, for a maximum of three days.
Once again Peter came up to us in the last days of September right in front of the school. They planned to go fishing with his father and spend two weekends at home. On Friday, Alexander took a break from work and early in the morning the two of them went to the pond, which was an hour's drive from the city. At night, everyone was already in our apartment, happy with fishing and having a good time. Mom was supposed to go to work for the second day on Saturday and it was planned that the three of us or each would spend this day on our own.
Peter was excited to the limit, I realized this, looking down at the laces, which he was trying to untie with his other free hand. Having freed his dignity from the shorts and underpants that annoyed him, my half brother, taking my neck, persistently pulled my mouth towards his penis, and I did one more thing in my life for the first time.
He pressed me harder and I sank down to the base of his organ swollen with excitement. Under the pressure of Peter's hands, holding me by the hair at the back of my head, my mouth gently slid up and down his cock. How long it lasted... even now it's hard for me to guess.
I can't say I was upset or unpleasant, at some point I even began to enjoy this lengthy process, so I realized that my panties were damp with arousal, which started to overwhelm me, as did Peter.
(continuation of the story in the next chapter)
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