Lost Childhood Memories

After an advertisement and a few more blogthings, I am now determined to lay down the origins of my behavior. I once showed my writings to a friend and said somebody else gave this to me. He claimed he was sickened at how the girl allegedly behaved. And he claimed all girls are naughty one way or another. Well for that I don’t disagree with him.

After a few debates and imagining him kissing me torridly and squeezing my boobs after the exchange of words, he whispered admitting that somehow some of the stories here made him jack off once or twice. My only reply was a naughty smile. Yeah, just twice huh?

But let me tell about the time i had my first hints of sex, back when I was too young to remember everything. Have you ever had that lost memory that you wanted so bad to remember but whatever you do, its just impossible to recall? I have, and this still baffles me til now.

As a child I grew up not knowing my dad. I lived with my Mom, my stepfather and older brother. Let’s just say I’m the princess of some sort and all my whims are laid on the table ready to be taken. But growing up I learned too that everything has its price.

Coming home from school has always been difficult. I always hated arriving while my step dad watched TV with his zippers open and his briefs flashing for me to see. These all happened when mom is at work. Sometimes I open the door of the living room and his hand zooms away from his body as he sees me and keeps still until I have passed by. A few times I enter their room to look for something or ask him about homework and he jolts up in a surprised manner then breaths heavily, sometimes even perspiring. I always felt uneasy waking him up.

On weekends it was common to see him sitting on the porch reading magazines while the wooden chair creaks. The repeated creaking sound always bothers me as it echoes in the vacant room next to the kitchen. I always peek through the kitchen windows but all I see is his nearly bald back head as he swings in a fast rocking motion. Why can’t he fix that chair or get a rocking chair I thought. I guess he either didn’t know it echoed or that I was nearby. And I never really knew until a few years later that what he was doing all this time was something disturbing. (well for a little girl like me)

Family jokes are always served after dinner together with dessert. And sometimes I am on the hot seat. One joke was about how old my brother stopped drinking from the bottle and I, how old I was the last time I wet on my bed. I just laughed at the teases but one distinct night, something struck my memory and gave me the shivers. I felt silent as I stared at my laughing step dad and flashes of memories came to me.

I can’t remember how old I was then but based on the teases I was barely 5 when I last wet on my bed. I was asleep one night and my step dad came in my room. I remember I was half-asleep as I felt my bed drenching but I was so tired to move and wake up. My step dad placed his hand under my body to feel the bed and after a while carried me and brought me to the toilet.

I woke up standing next to the faucet and hearing the water pouring to the floor tiles. My head was spinning from sleepiness and I was once again awoken by the soap being rubbed at my innocent pussy. I hugged his arm as he rubbed me some more and my eyes were so heavy that I fell asleep in between the soap rubbing and water splashing. The memory was a blurry scene but I know that I saw his hairy legs and his underwear was shining white against the light.

The next thing that I can recall was waking up with an uneasy feeling and I wanted to pee so badly. I looked in my shorts and saw that I was not wearing any panties. I felt it was itchy and sore and I remembered looking at how red it was. But everything after that and in between the time he was washing me was blank.

I never told this to anybody. Except for one person, Eddy. But Eddy is part of my latter life and I would tackle about him later on. What I can only say is that I can’t accuse my step dad of anything that I am not sure of. Then again, I guess being young and innocent, one is naïve about the meaning of things. And if you encounter something you are not aware of nor versed, time erases this from your mind.