My story starts many years ago. My name is Bobby and I was getting ready to turn sixteen that summer. My parents had just purchased a small motor home for our vacation that year. It was nice, but very confining. It was supposed to sleep six, but four people in it at one time, seemed very crowded to me.
It had a bunk above the passenger compartment that would sleep two people. They would be a little cramped, but two people could fit there. In the back of the motor home was a small room with a full size bed. That was where my parents would sleep.
I will tell you a little about my family before I move on to the events of our first vacation in the motor home. My father (Jim) worked the third shift in a local factory. He had worked there for as long as I could remember. He went to work at 11:00 p.m. and got off at 7:00 a.m. the next morning. My mother (Melanie) was a homemaker, and sold Avon on the side. My younger sister (Melissa) was fourteen years old that summer.
One night while my father was working. Two black men broke into our house, and then took turns raping my mother all night long. My sister was a result of that night. My mother and father had been trying to have another child, so my mother was not using any type of contraception at the time. My mother didn’t believe in abortion for any reason, and carried my sister full term. They hoped that the child my mother was carrying had been conceived before that night.
However, that would not end up being the case. And when Missy was born, although she was a black baby, my parents were not willing to put her up for adoption.
I would like to tell you that it had been easy growing up with a little black sister, but I’d be lying. I fought my way through most of my school life. Kids always made fun of her for having a white family. My sister felt very close to me, and looked up to me as her protector. Missy was a very pretty little girl. Although she was born black, and very dark skinned, she had the facial features more like a white child. The rest of her physical attributes were more characteristic of a black woman. She had long slender legs; flat little stomach and a nice round bubble butt like most black women seem to have.
I was fourteen before I had experimented with masturbation, so yeah, I was a late bloomer. But, once I tried it and realized how pleasurable it was, I felt the need to catch up on what I might have missed. Since that first orgasm rocked my world, I was constantly occupied with what sex with women would feel like. I so wanted to feel a pussy wrapped around my cock that I felt that I could do anything for that.
It was about the time I turned fifteen that this story happened.
It was a Saturday and mom had gone shopping like she does every weekend. Usually, she would back her car into the carport and would open the trunk and start unloading the groceries. That day I was watching her from the kitchen window overlooking the carport. I don’t know why, but I was struck by how wide her hips were despite her being shapely. She was close enough for me to see her ass clearly as she bent over the deep trunk reaching for stuff.
Things were clear enough that I could see a deep cameltoe formed between her pussy lips. But, what turned me on the most was seeing some of her pubic hair peeking out the sides of the soft cotton short shorts she was wearing.