http://www.mrdouble.com From lliillii@aol.com Tue Mar 26 00:55:31 1996 Path: news.uni-c.dk!newsfeed.sunet.se!news01.sunet.se!sunic!psinntp!psinntp!psinntp!howland.reston.ans.net!news-e2a.gnn.com!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsbf02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: lliillii@aol.com (LlIIllII) Newsgroups: alt.sex.incest Subject: Johnny's closet Date: 25 Mar 1996 18:55:31 -0500 Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364) Lines: 118 Sender: root@newsbf02.news.aol.com Message-ID: <4j7bpj$p4b@newsbf02.news.aol.com> Reply-To: lliillii@aol.com (LlIIllII) NNTP-Posting-Host: newsbf02.mail.aol.com Do not read this if you are under 18 or offended by stories of a sexual and possibly incestuous nature. Looking back, I couldn’t have had a better childhood if I had written the script myself. Well, not really “childhood.” What I am going to tell you starts at about age 14 and continues up to ... up to now, actually. The purpose of my tale is not to make you jealous, but, rather, to wake you up to some delicious possibilities. My name is Johnny. I lived in a huge Victorian house in New Jersey with my mom and two sisters. My father left when I was 13 and my sisters were 11 and 15. Mom and dad had what seemed like the perfect family ... three kids spaced two years apart ... but the two of them just never got along. They decided divorce was better than all the fighting, and we kids actually agreed. We saw dad every other weekend and he never missed a child-support payment or a birthday. It could have been much worse. When they first sat us down and gave us the “divorce” talk, little Marie cried and Barbara, my older sister just got angry. I sat there cooly and listened. When dad got to the part about my being “the man of the house now,” I just shrugged. What could I do at age 13? Take out the garbage? I did that anyway. But none of us wanted to make dad or mom feel guilty, so we managed to calm Marie and that was that. He left the next morning. Now, age 13 is difficult for any boy, what with hormones and body changes and noticing girls and all that, but for me it was a bitch -- literally. That’s because there I was, starting to get erections at anything that looked like tits -- even two scoops of mashed potatoes on a plate -- and what happens? I’m left as the “man of the house” with three women. There was mom, 38 years old and absolutely beautiful; Barbara, 15 and incredibly well developed; and Marie, 13 and a real flirt. My daily life consisted of 8 hours of sleep and 16 hours of hard-ons. It was probably more of hard-ons, but I couldn’t tell about the sleeping ones. Well, about a month after dad left, I started having this fantasy that I could see through walls. Our four bedrooms were on the second floor of the house, and we all shared a huge bathroom. Mom and dad had spent plenty to make it real big and luxurious when we moved in. There was a giant shower stall with sliding glass doors, a separate antique clawfoot tub, an antique sink and this thing that dad said was for women’s cleanliness. The bathroom was decorated with fine prints and the walls were covered with a beautiful Victorian-design wallpaper. My bedroom was next to the bathroom, separated only by my walk-in closet. My two sisters had the rooms across the hall, and mom slept -- alone, now -- in the master bedroom at the end of the hall, farthest from the bathroom. The bad thing about my room was that, being next to the bathroom, I would wake up everytime someone flushed the toilet. I started sleeping with earplugs when I was about 10, and that seemed to solve the noise problem. The good thing, of course, was also that my room was next to the bathroom. It made it much more convenient to take a pee in the middle of the night, or to run back to my room after a shower on a cold morning. So, the bathroom thing was both good and bad. Soon I would forget the bad. Very soon. As I mentioned, I was working on this keen fantasy of being able to see through walls. What I did was to wait until one of the girls -- mom or Marie or Barbara -- went into the bathroom. I would go into my closet and put my ear to the wall. It was a very thin wall (a piece of paneling, actually, that dad installed when converting the original bathroom). The purpose was to even out the new room and to give me a nice-sized closet. So, I would listen through the wall and determine what the person in the bathroom was doing. I would then go back to my bed and pretend that I could see them. With my door locked, I would then jerk off -- as quietly as I could -- imagining what it looked like as, let’s say, Barbara was peeing or mom was taking a shower. I would try to picture their bodies, the actual pee coming out, the soap dripping across breasts, and so on. But my almost-14-year-old imagination was not very good, and sometimes I’d fall asleep without cuming. And then, it hit me. On the eve of my 14th birthday, I was listening to little Marie going to the bathroom, and I realized that there was only about a quarter of an inch separating my eyes from that room. What an asshole I’d been! All I had to do was figure out an undetectible way to poke a hole in the paneling and I’d be able to watch everything that went on in there. I was home alone that evening. Mom was next door arranging some sort of sales party, cookware or something, where friends would come to the house and buy plates and baking stuff. Barbara was out with a new boyfriend. And Marie was with mom. I went to the basement and opened the toolbox dad had left for mom. I got out a screwdriver and a hammer and a giant nail. And went back to the bathroom. I looked at the wall that backed to my closet. On it was the sink and the medicine cabinet. Any hole I made would certainly be seen, I thought. But then I realized that the wallpaper might provide camouflage for a tiny hole if I placed the hole in exactly the right spot. About an inch above the top of the medicine cabinet, the wallpaper image was that of a dark red-and-black flower. The black spot was in the center, about a quarter of an inch wide, maybe a little more. I climbed up on the sink and placed a nail on the black spot. WHAM! I banged it with the hammer and -- miracle of miracles! -- a perfect hole. I climbed down and looked at it from ground level. If you really REALLY stared, you might notice something, but odds were no one would ever look carefully at that particular flower. I climbed back onto the sink and, inserting the screwdriver, made the hole a littlel bigger. I cleaned up all of the tiny wood spinters that had fallen into the sink, and rand downstairs to put the tools back. Just as I got back to my room, Barbara came home from her date. “I hope you’re not in the bathroom, Johnny,” she shouted. “I really gotta pee!” “No problem,” I said. “I’m studying.” I never moved so quickly in my life. I grabbed my desk chair and practically threw it into the closet. I climed on top and looked for the hole. As soon as the light went on in the bathroom I could see its shaft coming through the paneling. My, god, with the chairm the hole was at exactly the height of my eyes. I supported myself using the clothes rod and looked in. There was Barbara ripping off her jumper and squatting on the toilet, which was on the wall to the left of the sink. I looked down as she sat and watched her rock back and forth as the pee streamed into the water below. “Whew!” she said out loud. “Holy shit” I said, to myself. “This was going to be great.” I heard mom and Marie coming in the front door. more to come. Let me know if you want to see Chapter 2 From lliillii@aol.com Wed Mar 27 00:23:08 1996 Path: news.uni-c.dk!newsfeed.sunet.se!news01.sunet.se!sunic!psinntp!psinntp!psinntp!gatech!swrinde!newsfeed.internetmci.com!in2.uu.net!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsbf02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: lliillii@aol.com (LlIIllII) Newsgroups: alt.sex.incest Subject: Johnny's Closet, Part II Date: 26 Mar 1996 18:23:08 -0500 Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364) Lines: 240 Sender: root@newsbf02.news.aol.com Message-ID: <4j9u8s$l1v@newsbf02.news.aol.com> Reply-To: lliillii@aol.com (LlIIllII) NNTP-Posting-Host: newsbf02.mail.aol.com DO not read this if you are under 18 years of age or if you are offended by material of a sexual or possibly incestuous nature. end of part one, as a reminder: I never moved so quickly in my life. I grabbed my desk chair and practically threw it into the closet. I climed on top and looked for the hole. As soon as the light went on in the bathroom I could see its shaft coming through the paneling. My, god, with the chair, the hole was at exactly the height of my eyes. I supported myself using the clothes rod and looked in. There was Barbara ripping off her jumper and squatting on the toilet, which was on the wall to the left of the sink. I looked down as she sat and watched her rock back and forth as the pee streamed into the water below. “Whew!” she said out loud. “Holy shit” I said, to myself. “This was going to be great.” AND NOW ... PART II of “Johnny’s Closet” I couldn’t believe it. After more than a year of lusting after my mom and two sisters, I finally had figured out a way to watch them at will. My walk-in closet, right next to the bathroom, provided a perfect view, thanks to the quarter-inch hole I had put above the medicine cabinet’s mirror. In the first five minutes I already had watched older sister Barbara pee. True, I hadn’t seen her jumbo tits yet, but hey, I was only 14. I had years of peeking ahead of me. Life, all of a sudden, seemed wonderful. I was, as my parents had told me the day they announced their divorce, “The man of the house now.” And to me, that meant I was free to watch, watch, watch. My big sister, Barbara, almost 17. My little sister, Marie, 12 but developing quickly. And, most of all, mom, 38 and the sexiest women I’ve ever seen. Barbara wiped herself dry and dropped the used toilet paper into the bowl. I shuddered, wondering what it would be like to have that damp pile of sheets to play with. What would I do? Would I smell it? Would I inhale the odor of Barbara’s pee and her hole? Would I jerk off as I looked at the yellow stained wad and then add my cum to it? I was hard again just fantasizing. What a mind for being only 14! I was tempted to jerk off again, but I had never cum more than twice in one day, and I knew mom took a shower every evening at 10. I wanted to save my next load for that, so I forced myself to think about something else. “I’m done in here, in case you need the bathroom now,” Barbara shouted as she passed my door.” I almost said, “I know,” but managed to catch myself. “Thanks, Barb.” I offered. “I’m OK.” Since there were so many of us to share one bathroom, we always announced when we were done in there, so anyone else who had to go could get in quickly. “I won’t need them to tell me now,” I said to myself, smiling. Mom and Marie got home from next door, where they had been planning the home sales party, and all they did was wash their hands. We had dinner and watched a little TV, and at 9 it was time for Marie to go to bed. “I’m going to take my shower in the morning, mom, if that’s OK,” she announced. “I’m pretty tired.” “No problem, love,” mom said. “See you tomorrow.” Marie went upstairs to get into her pajamas and, I guess, to pee. But I already had seen Barbara pee, and I didn’t want to climb the stairs just to watch Marie do the same thing. I continued to watch sitcoms with Barbara and mom, and then, at 9:30 it was time for my shower. “G’night,” I said to the two older women in my life. “I’m gonna wash up and then go to sleep. See ya tomorrow.” “‘Night, sweetie,” mom said. “Night,” Barbara said. As I left the living room to climb the stairs, I saw looked back for a second to get one more glance at the two women whose tits I would be seeing for the first time that night. For a second, I thought I caught them smiling at each other, but I looked closer and figured it was my imagination. I went upstairs, got my pajamas and hurried to the bathroom for that quick shower. Once behind the locked door, I immediately looked up at the hole. It was barely visable. “No,” I thought to muself, “they’ll never see it.” I took a quick shower, and about two minutes into it, I realized something terrible. The damn glass shower door! I had looked through my new closet hole at that door five or six times that evening, imagining what a great angle I had into the shower. But shit! In less than three minutes in the shower, the whole door had steamed up. It was impossible to see out, so it certainly would be impossibe to look in. Damn! What could I do. It was then that a miracle happened, or at least it seemed like a miracle to a young kid. Two weeks before, I had been shopping at the local mall with mom, and we had been called over to a small, temporary booth by some guy selling something. You know those little kiosks that set up in malls, where people who are out of work or something try to make ends meet by pushing one kind or crappy product or another. Well, this guy was selling something to clean your eyeglasses with, a kind if slippery salve in a small jar. He offered to clean mom’s sunglasses for free and she let him. He rubbed the stuff on her glasses, then wiped it off with a little rag. Mom looked at the glasses. “Wow,” she said to him. “You weren’t kidding! This really is clean!” “It’s a very good product ma’am,” he said. “The one tub is $7 and lasts a year,” he said. “But for $10 you can have two tubs, or one tub and a bottle of WindowCleer.” “Of what?” mom asked? “WindowCleer,” he said. “It’s the same product, but in liquid form,” he said. “You wipe in on windows, mirrors, even the inside of your car’s windshield, and the glass is guaranteed not to steam up.” The miracle, I guess, is that conversation just popped into my head, word for word, at exactly the time I most needed it. Of course! WindowClear! Mom had gotten the $10 package, and I remember that she put the bottle under the bathroom sink. I bolted out of the shower and opened the door to the cabinet below the sink. YES! It was there. I quickly read the instructions. “Place a small amount of product on a cotton cloth and rub gently on glass surface. Do not rinse. Glass is guaranteed not to steam up. Perfect for bathrooms, eyeglasses ...” I didn’t have to read another word. I got a washcloth and poured some of the liquid on it. I then scrubbed down both sides of the shower door, put the bottle back, dried myself off and threw on my pajamas. My dick was hard as a rock and still a little red from all the rubbing I’d been doing. I really wanted to jerk off, but I knew it would pay to wait. I looked at the hole again, on my way out and smiled again. Oh, man. I was gonna see mom’s tits in less than an hour. “I’m done in the bathroom,” I shouted down to the girls. “Thanks, honey,” mom shouted back. “See you later.” “No,” I joked to myself. “I’ll see YOU later!” I went back in my room and made sure everything was set up. First, of course, I locked my door. I guess people who like to spy on others usually take real care to make sure no one can spy on them. Then, I moved the clothes along the rod to one end of the closet and placed my chair just under the hole. There was just enough room to stand there and fit my head under the closet shelf while peeking through the hole. What else would I need? Ahh ... a flashlight, because I’d be working in the dark, so no one would see light coming through my end of the hole. And, yes, a box of tissues for, well, you know ... I didn’t want to get cum all over the closet wall. I placed the tissue box on the closet shelf and then got into bed. I wanted to do a quick run-through, so nothing could go wrong. Let’s see ... mom walks past my room in her bathrobe and into the bathroom. I turn on the flashlight, leap out of bed and climb on the chair. I turn out the flashlight and place it on the closet shelf, grab three or four tissues in my left hand and place my left eye up to the hole. Right hand on cock, left hand full of tissues. Clear view of the shower. Perfect. I retraced my steps and waited. I gently squeezed my hard-on, waiting for mom. First, I rubbed it up and down slowly. Then I pinched it in the middle. Then I tickled the head. Then I rubbed the shaft against my stomach. “C’mon, mom,” I said softly. “Let me watch you take a shower.” I couldn’t possibly know how much better my first show would be than simply watching her get washed. After what seemed like an hour -- but according to the clock was only about 20 minutes -- I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I heard two doors close. Guess mom and Barbara had come up at the same time. A few minutes later I heard more steps, this time coming down the hall and walking toward the bathroom. I turned on the flashlight and, knees literally shaking, went to the closet and got up on the chair. I would see a tiny spot of light in the closet, telling me someone was in the bathroom. “Here goes,” I said to myself. “Presenting ... mom’s tits!” I put the tissues in my left hand, grabbed my blood-filled cock in my right and placed my eye to the hole. Oh, my god. It wasn’t mom. I mean, it wasn’t JUST mom. This was unbelievable. This was incredible. There was mom, yes, starting to undress for her shower. But with her and already totally naked was Barbara! Mom was sitting on the toilet, peeing. She still had on her bra but nothing else. Barbara was standing in front of her, only inches away. And Barbara was reaching down and playing with her own pussy. She was standing in front of our mom and playing with herself! What was happening? Mom’s eyes were glued to Barbara’s hands. Barb started pumping her rear end back and forth in a regular motion. She started to moan, but mom quickly put her finger up to make a shhhh shound. Barbara nodded but continued to touch herself. Then, mom stood up, reached behind her and started unhooking her bra. My cock was throbbing and was dripping with precum, but I was too shocked to jerk it. I just watched and tried to control my breathing so no one could hear me. Mom’s bra dropped to the floor. Oh, god, what fabulous tits! They were bigger than I had dreamed, although the numbers associated with bra sizes meant nothing to me. I had often looked at mom’s bras in the hamper and on the drying line in the basement, but I didn’t know what 40DD had meant -- until now, that is! And her nipples. They were dark and large -- covering almost a third of the front of each tit. And the points were long and like a pencil eraser. In spite of my shock, I managed to start a slow nack and forward motion with my right hand. Barbara’s tits were also gorgeous. Her bras had said 36C, and now I knew what that meant too. Her nipples were smaller and lighter colored but more pointy than moms. But while both women had different bodies, both really were getting me hot. I started to look down toward their pussies, now, but before I could focus there Barbara started to reach out toward mom. She grabbed both of mom’s nipples and started to pinch them gently. And mom started doing the same to Barbara. I couldn’t believe this. Mom and Barbara playing with each other’s bodies. That must have been why they were smiling earlier when I had mentioned my shower. Why, they must have been doing this forever ... playing with each other when I was done with my shower. And the only reason I learned about it at all was because of the hole. My wonderful closet hole. Their hands now shifted downward, to their hairy mounds. Mom’s was short and trimmed, almost like she shaved it into the shape of a beard. Barbara’s was long, big and wild, hairs sticking out at all angles. Mom rubbed Barbara. Barbara rubbed mom. And then they sidled over to the shower and turned it on. A minute later they both were inside, a mass of hands and wetness and soap and rubbing and touching. Fingers going in and out of holes. Even though I had a beautifully clear view through the chemical-treated window, it was hard to keep track of all the moving. Mom bent over and Barbare spread mom’s butt cheeks and found her asshole. Barb stuck in her index finger and moved in and out as mom wiggled her ass. Then mom did the same to Barb. The went for each other’s tits again, this time squeezing and sucking. Then mom got down on her knees and started kissing Barb’s mound. The changed positions, with Barb doing the tonguing this time. It went on for 10 minutes. I looked down and noticed that I had already shot a load onto the closet wall. Shit! I had come and didn’t even notice! I wiped up the dribbling stain with the tissues and went back to the hole. My two little sex kittens were out of the shower now, drying each other off and smiling as if it was THEY who had just cumnot me. Shit, they probably did cum in there but I never saw the actual moment. They each put bathrobes on, smiled again at each other and walked out into the hall like nothing had happened. I heard both of their bedroom doors close and got back into my bed. I was still breathing hard. Holy shit, Mom and Barbara make each other cum. And probably every night. And I would be watching, secretly. My cock was hard again. Would I be able to go for three in one day? I fell asleep trying and woke up once in the middle of the night in a cold, wet puddle. My alarm went off at 6 in the morning and in the background I could hear the shower handles being turned. It was Marie, I guessed, getting ready for her morning shower. What surprise would I see when I peeked now, I wondered? Who’d be in there with her, fuckin’ Elvis Presley? I joked. I ran to the chair and looked through the hole. All I could say was, JESUS H. CHRIST!” Part 3 to come soon. Write to me if you like this shit!