It could even be my very own Mother. Or, you guessed it, my Sister Sarah. It was sick and twisted, I know, but every time I laid eyes on their ...oft, smooth and delicate knickers, I was unable to stop myself. I would fondle them, rub them against my face, smell their wonderful scent, and even masturbate with them. I was always ashamed of myself afterwards and I’d promise never to do it again. But I would, and I did. I was sixteen when my Sister caught me in the act. I didn’t. After that I was much more careful when I was trying to be observant.Like all my friends, I was checking out cute girls, but I was havingtrouble with the mind games that wouldn't go away. I was sure it wasall a result of my Saturday makeover, but I found the day dreaminggetting worse and not better.Before school on Wednesday my mother reminded me about my 5:00appointment. I was actually happy to be going, because I wanted to talkabout my building confusion. In the first session I was dressed. More

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