Introduction In chapters 1 through 4, I told you the story of Christmas Eve 2013, during which my stepbrother and I were unexpectedly left alone so our parents could travel to Ontario to deal with our grandmother’s stroke. Feeling lonely and nostalgic, Michael and I invaded my stepdad’s liquor cabinet. The alcohol only served to augment my feeling of loneliness, making me long for some type of human contact. We watched classic Christmas movies together. And while I was innocently massaging my stepbrother’s shoulders, and Michael was massaging my feet, the touching gradually moved from innocent to intimate. We explored each other, petted, necked, and masturbated each other to amazing orgasms. Knowing that we had the house to ourselves, we decided to wash the semen and smell of sex from our bodies in our parents’ large Jacuzzi tub. While we were cuddling and relaxing in our parents’ tub, Michael and I were startled from our bliss when we heard the garage door opener activate. Our parents came home unexpectedly! Through a remarkable sequence of events, Michael and I extricated ourselves from this ‘situation’ and our parents were unaware of our intimacies. This remarkable evening started a period of intimacy and sexual discovery between my stepbrother and me that I will always cherish. For the next eight months, Michael and I enjoyed each other, explored each other, and pleasured each other. We enjoyed everything except intercourse. Something stopped both of us from taking that final step. Michael never really pushed it, and neither did I. Michael and I had developed a deep emotional and physical connection over this time. As August approached, I got increasingly anxious about leaving for the university. I did not know if I could force myself to end the relationship with Michael. I contemplated staying at home and attending a local junior college for a year, just so I could continue the intimate relationship with my stepbrother. But when the day finally arrived, I knew I had to go away. I knew I had to leave for the University of British Columbia in Vancouver. As painful as it was, I knew what I had to do. And so I left Michael, and the pleasure of his touch, and the comfort of his embrace nearly four months ago. Finals week: Startled, I awakened from a deep sleep. Momentarily, I was confused and aroused. My nipples were hard, my breasts were heaving and my vagina was leaking as I tried to comprehend what had just occurred. Slowly, from the depths of slumber, I began to become aware. As I stirred to consciousness, I realized it happened again; I had experienced another orgasm as a result of a sexually charged dream. The dream was almost scary in its realism and vivid details. And it was about my stepbrother. It felt so very real. My slumber induced climax that had awakened me, just as it had once or twice a month since I almanbahis şikayet left my home in August. The details varied, but the dream always involved Michael and I engaging in heavy petting or orally pleasing each other before we decided to take the next step. I always seem to achieve my climax immediately before Michael penetrates me. The climax always awakens me. But the dream never continues long enough for me to actually lose my virginity. It leaves me physically satisfied, but anxious and emotionally unfulfilled. I actually would prefer to have the dream extend to Michael actually entering me. But it does not. My heart pounded and my breath was labored. I looked at the digital clock and could see it was 3:19 a.m. My mind raced recalling the details of the vivid dream. I tried to purge my thoughts and return to sleep for several more hours. But it was no use. My mind was running a thousand different directions now.I knew from my high school health classes that teenage boys regularly experienced wet dreams or nocturnal emissions. But I had never really heard of any other women having ‘wet dreams’, but I promise you, since August, I have them with amazing regularity; perhaps twice a month. The frequency, intensity and realism of these nocturnal climaxes seemed to be increasing dramatically since I left my parents’ home outside of Calgary to attend the University of British Columbia in Vancouver last August. As I lay in bed, my head spinning, I could feel my erect clitoris pulsing distinctly and my vaginal secretions slowly seeping out of me, making my thighs and bottom damp from my juices. And every time I have one of these dreams, I respond the same way. I become aroused, and I almost always climax in my sleep before bolting awake. I wondered if these drams were my subconscious’ way of telling me I was ready; that it was time to give myself wholly and completely to my stepbrother? The timing of this wet dream was also disturbing. The following day, Friday, I was scheduled to fly home for winter break. This would be my first visit home since leaving for college back in mid-August. I would see my younger stepbrother tomorrow. I was excited and nervous about my return home. I return home – Friday: I completed my last final exam slightly before 3:00 p.m. I returned to my dorm, packed, and then caught a ride to the airport. I ate a chicken Caesar salad at the airport while I waited for my flight. The Air Canada flight 224 departed at 6:00 p.m., Vancouver time. Because of the time zone change, an hour and a half later, we touched down, just before 8:30 p.m. Calgary time. During the hour and half flight my mind raced with the multitude of possibilities that lay in front of me. Exactly one week ago I had taken a very big step. I visited the clinic on campus and obtained a prescription to birth control pills. almanbahis canlı casino I realized as I was doing this that I was preparing to allow my stepbrother to deflower me. I was getting the protection necessary to allow Michael to enter me, and ejaculate inside me; to rupture my hymen. I was very nervous and excited about allowing my stepbrother to capture my virginity. I was also feeling scared and guilty. If I went through with this, if I let Michael enter my womanhood, we would move past the petting and exploration that we enjoyed to becoming ‘lovers’ in every sense of the word. Would we live to regret this? Was society correct? Would this forever scar each of us emotionally? On an objective and intellectual level, I knew that someday we would have to move on. Michael and I could not be a couple. Society would not permit it. We would always be forced to keep our relationship and our intimacies secret. We could not live as man and wife, we could not hold hands walking down the street, or contemplate having children. These were activities we would have to reserve for other people, not each other. As the plane hummed along at 40,000 feet, I knew that allowing Michael and my relationship to progress to the point that we were having actual intercourse would make the eventual cessation of our intimacies even more painful and difficult. Nonetheless, I knew that I wanted my stepbrother to ‘be the one’ who took me first. I wanted his semen inside me. I wanted him to rupture my hymen. And most of all, I wanted to be the first woman he did these things with. I wanted him to remember that I was his first for the rest of his life. I know it is warped, perverse and sick, but I wanted to know that for the rest of our lives, at every family function that Michael and I attended with our spouses and our children, we would both think about the intimate deep secret we shared; that he and I lost our virginities to each other during the winter break of 2014. Part of me was angry. I was angry at the strict rules that society had imposed upon us. I was angry that because of these mores, I could never have what I really wanted, which was to completely belong to my stepbrother: to allow him to impregnate me and to carry and raise his child as his wife. I wanted to nurse our children while my stepbrother held me in his arms. After all, we were not biologically related. My mother just happened to be married to his father. But I realized that in our society, we were considered ‘off limits’ to each other. No, we could not be a couple in public; that was not possible. So I would have to settle for a brief period of intimacy during which my stepbrother and I would share a fantasy relationship, and each other. And this memory would have to last me the rest of my life. As the Air Canada flight began its decent, I wondered if almanbahis casino Michael felt similar to me? Would Michael and I resume where we left off? Would my stepbrother still want and need me? What if he had become involved with someone else? That thought suddenly frightened me. After deciding to ‘go on the pill’ so that I could safely accept my stepbrother’s sperm into my womb, I did not think I could handle rejection. If Michael wanted to maintain a normal and more socially acceptable relationship now, I would be absolutely devastated. I would be forced to accept his decision, but I would be crushed. As the plane touched down, I realized I was scared and aroused by these thoughts. I blushed as I realized that the gusset of my panties was very damp as I thought about my stepbrother. What would the man sitting next to me think if he knew that my vagina was lubricated and leaking into my underwear as I fantasized about fucking my younger stepbrother? Would he be horrified? Aroused? Or perhaps he would be both? My parents were waiting at baggage claim. I was confused, and disappointed that Michael was not there. I hugged them. We said our greetings. I asked, “Where is Michael?” “Oh, he is out with his buddies tonight. I think they are at a hockey game. He said he would see you when he got home tonight,” my dad answered nonchalantly. I tried not to let me disappointment show, but I was hurt, deeply hurt. How could he decide to go to a hockey game rather than meeting me at the airport after we had been apart for four months? I felt a sudden ache in my heart. Was this a sign that all my feelings and fantasies were not shared by my stepbrother? Had he already moved on? Did the closeness we shared mean so little to him? I felt empty and very alone. I tried not to show it, but this hurt. Mom noticed. On the way home she remarked, “Kelsey, you are awful quiet. Is everything alright?” I answered quite honestly, “Yeah, mom, I’m fine. I am just exhausted. I was up most of last night studying for finals. I have not been sleeping well. I am just tired.” We arrived at the house around ten o’clock. Michael was still not home. Feeling somewhat abandoned, I told my parents that I was tired, which I actually was, and made my excuses to retire early. I was in bed by eleven. Despite being hurt and mad at my brother’s insensitivity, my sadness and disappointment gave way to my exhaustion, and I quickly fell asleep. From the depths of slumber, I was awakened by Michael sitting on my bed. I did not hear him enter my room or approach me. But the movement of my mattress as he sat down awakened me. I was confused as I tried to clear my head and understand where I was and who was with me. “Kelsey, are you awake?” Michael asked as his gently slid his hand up my side and gently found my breast under the thick quilt. “What are you doing?” was my confused response as I struggled to consciousness. ”I just wanted to say hi, and welcome you home,” Michael answered. “I noticed that you were conspicuously absent when mom and dad picked me up at the airport.” My irritation was obvious; however, my hurt was masked.