The intensity of his emotion made him obsessed. Over time and with the help of multiple fantasies, his incestuous obsession gave way to delusional th...nking. He spent lonely nights (the only kind of night he knew) scheming of ways to get his brother to confess his true feelings. Usually, that was before he stroked himself to sleep, lapping the come from between his fingers like a thirsty kitten once he had finished his self-pleasuring. It didn’t bother him to taste himself. He was rather. I couldn’t resist that hot hole between my snatch. I shoved my hands between my thighs, rubbing at my heated flesh. I stroked through my strawberry bush, caressing my labia. I slid my fingers up and down my slit, squirming, delight tingling through me.My eyes squeezed shut. My father’s hated face floated before me. His words that he made my mother his whore burned through me. She loved him. She wasn’t a wanton slattern panting after his dick. She was better than me.I should think of Sven. My. More

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