Family fun, it’s supposed to be all wholesome and innocent, but ever since I can remember, I’ve always had a different interpretation of those two little words. You see, I’m Aspen, a 20-year-old southern belle with a body that’s barely legal and a mind that’s always up to no good. I’ve got dirty blonde hair that I love to wear in pigtails, a small but firm ass, and perky breasts that are just the right size.
It was a hot summer day, and I was feeling particularly frisky. I had been thinking about him for weeks, this family member who was so wrong but who I couldn’t stop thinking about. He was older, experienced, and had always had a certain charm about him that I couldn’t resist. I knew it was forbidden, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted him, and I was going to have him.
I snuck into his room while he was napping, my heart racing with excitement and anticipation. I crawled onto the bed, straddling him as I leaned down to whisper in his ear. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time,” I said, my voice husky with desire. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
He woke up with a start, his eyes widening as he realized what was happening. But instead of pushing me away, he pulled me closer, his hands exploring my body as if he had been dreaming of this moment just as much as I had. We were family, and this was so wrong, but it felt so right. I couldn’t help myself as I ground my hips against him, feeling him grow hard beneath me.
We spent the rest of the afternoon exploring each other’s bodies, our moans and gasps of pleasure muffled by the thick, sultry air. It was family fun like I had never experienced before, and I knew that I would never be able to get enough of it. I craved him, and I couldn’t wait to do it again.
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