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Some people are lucky in that no matter what happens, how they look, what they do, or what others do to them, they always seem to have a positive outlook about life in general and themselves in particular. Some might call them optimists, others may declare them naive, but the funny thing is such people probably wouldn’t care what other people named them anyway.

For the rest of us more practical people, and I like to think I have lots of company, looking in the mirror can sometimes be a difficult chore and when we finally work up the courage all too often what we see isn’t all that wonderful – at least so far as we see it. I can remember as a high school graduate, barely 18 years old and full of angst and self-doubt to the point I almost wouldn’t even look in a mirror. The alarming image that looked back at me of a skinny girl with underdeveloped boobs and pony legs was not what I would dream about. Heck, I didn’t even have to dream. All I had to do was look at the other college girls my age to realize what they had and I didn’t.

Then the unimaginable miracle happened… the older brother of one of my best friends asked me out! Like wow, talk about hitting the jackpot! A twenty year-old hunk, the object of desire of most every girl in the neighborhood, wanted to date me. Sure he had a rep for “imposing himself” on the girls he dated but that just made it all the better so far as I would concerned in that he wanted to do it to me! Even Sharon, Steve’s sister who was my age, was jealous of me. I knew she had a crush on her brother although he never gave her the time of day, let alone a second look which was too bad as she was pretty amazingly hot in my opinion.

Sure enough, on our first date Steve expected me to give him a blowjob. He didn’t even really ask, he just told me. Well, needless to say there was no way I was about to tell him I’d never done one before. I’d seen enough porn to know the basics of what I was supposed to do. Also, my mom had given me some advice when I went to her with my worries, even including a banana for a teaching tool. I even swallowed my first time although it was more because I was surprised when he suddenly ejaculated without any warning than any preplanning on my part. I must’ve been good enough as he asked me out again and it wasn’t long before I willingly gave him my virginity. It made me so proud to finally joined the ranks of the other girls in college who put out for their boyfriends, especially to a guy like Steve.

Steve and I dated for the next six months which became the highlight of my life up until then. Until he left he was the only boy I had sex with (well, his brother once but that was just to tease him) and he pretty much stuck just with me. I felt so proud walking alongside him, knowing that everyone knew what we were doing as Steve of course had immediately bragged to all his friends about doing me. My parents were proud of me as well. It was so cool to see them smiling when I would lead Steve up to my bedroom. Yes, for a brief period of time I was in heaven!

Then the most horrible thing imaginable happened – Steve’s mom was transferred and suddenly he was in southern California, gone forever. Once I got over the initial heartbreak and shock I realized that there were other fish in the sea. It didn’t hurt that he was barely gone before the other boys to start hitting on me given the reputation I’d earned being with Steve. It was like they all wanted to know was if I was really as good a lay as Steve had been saying. While it was different from the more loving attention that Steve gave me – I had been madly in love with him, it WAS attention. Indeed it made me feel much better when I looked in the mirror knowing that so many boys wanted the girl I was looking at. It’s not that the image changed so much as it was how I perceived that image.

After losing Steve I wasn’t ready to have that sort of relationship again. Indeed, I didn’t know if I ever COULD after how I’d felt about him. Also, I learned that going out with a new guy was much more fun than dating the same guy over and over. On our second date they knew what was coming and it became just about the sex but the first time it was like a fun game for me. My usual approach was to date a guy twice, maybe three times at most. The first time he just got a blowjob and I wouldn’t let him touch me under my clothes. The next time I might let him touch me and even undress me. I might just masturbate for him to watch or depending on how horny I was even let him fuck me but usually I made him wait longer for that. The third time, if he qualified for a third time, was almost always just for the sex. Really, after doing that why bother dating him again just to do the same thing over again?

Thus I found my niche. Some girls find their self-worth by being a cheerleader, others by being involved in school politics or with some club, or sports. Some might even join an organization outside of school. Unfortunately I couldn’t stand the cheerleaders, I was totally a klutz gay porno when it came to most sports, and I had no real interest in school clubs or other organizations beside my church groups and bible studies. While certainly not for everyone, that’s why becoming the acknowledged neighborhood slut was the perfect role for me. First, I LOVED sex and so anything that got me laid as often as possible was alright by me. Next, I loved the attention it gave me, even the so-called “negative” attention from some of the people in my college and the faculty, and even in my own family. As some famous actress once said, ANY attention is GOOD attention (or words to that effect).

Perhaps the single most impactful event so far as my ego and self-esteem were concerned was when my dad first had sex with me. My mom had insisted he wait until I turned 18 but he didn’t wait even one day more! When people ask me why I still have sex with my daddy so many years later, my “politically correct” answer is to say that I do to because as his daughter I have an obligation to submit myself to my father in every way, even sexually. I tell people that I do it to provide him an outlet for the needs and urges that build up in him and which need release. I say that I do it because I love my father and want to give myself to him in the most intimate and personal manner possible.

While all that’s true, it’s certainly not the entire truth. My father has never forced me to have sex with him and has never made me feel obligated to have sex with him. That’s all ME talking and my interpretation of scripture as to how to properly honor my father. As for satisfying his needs, now that my parents are divorced and he is free to pursue whatever girl he wants, it’s not like he needs a 27 year-old daughter to satiate his cravings. Yes, I DO love him but as I’ve always said, you don’t have to have sex with your father to tell him you love him.

The part that I typically don’t mention is that I fuck my dad to make ME feel good about myself. Whenever I’m feeling a little blue or some doubt has been cast on my appeal to men, a visit to my dad’s clears that up every time. When other men lust for me and tell me they want to fuck me, it doesn’t mean anything compare to when my father tells me the same thing. After all, for a man to want to have sex with his own daughter says a LOT about how he perceives her as a sexual object. What more can he say or do than to lie on top of me after having just released his love inside of me letting me feel him throbbing inside of me?


The problem with trying to improve your own self-worth and self-esteem is that there isn’t much of anything you can do that is permanent short of plastic surgery. The cheerleader eventually graduates and hangs up her skirt. The jock grows old and his athletic skills diminish. One of the good things about using sex in general as an ego booster is that it can be stretched out over a lifetime although some things do change and thus that have to be adapted to as you grow older.

When I was in my late teens and early twenties, it was all about me being the teasing college girl. Heck, I probably could’ve been fat and ugly and men would’ve still wanted me when I was just eighteen so long as I spread my bare legs wide open for them. Then the day comes and you’re walking through the mall and suddenly you notice the husbands checking out the teenage girls and you realize they don’t give you a second glance! The perverts who all wanted to chat endlessly on the Internet when you were only eighteen now suddenly seem to disappear when they learn your real age. People start asking you if the little girl next to you is your daughter (now THAT was a real downer for sure when it happened to me the first time).

Of course when you’re older there are also different opportunities from what were available as a teenager. While most guys love to LOOK at college girls, at the same time they’re are well aware of the potential consequences of doing anything more than a quick glance. When it comes getting a man to make a move, it doesn’t hurt to be a little older if you’re into that sort of attention.

One of the positive things I found about being married is that the ups and downs get smoothed out a lot. Having a man permanently in your life that tells you every day how beautiful you are and how sexy you look definitely has some plusses! Of course I know that there are days when he’s just being kind but yet I like to think that even when I’m puffy or sick, to my husband I’m still as beautiful as the day he married me.

One thing I hadn’t expected so far as marriage and self-esteem was how good it would make me feel when my husband shared me with other men. Maybe sharing isn’t quite the best word to use… more like he is loaning me out. It almost takes me back to my escorting days or even to my college class slut status. What does it say when your husband is so proud of you that he gets off seeing you satisfying the fetiş porno lust of other men? What does it say about the trust and faith he has in me to see how much I enjoy doing it and yet knowing that I will always be his in the end?

As wonderful as my marriage may be, there are still the occasional down days. That’s to be expected as no marriage can be perfect. For example, while I try to put on a good face about it I don’t generally feel the same way about seeing Steve fucking other women as he seems to feel about when he watches other men doing me. I guess it’s a man thing but for whatever reason he just can’t get enough of watching me having sex with other men. Even he can’t seem to explain it but I think it’s something to do with the fact that he likes them to know what HE is getting all the time as if somehow that will make them jealous of him. Of course I don’t feel bad when he’s with my mom, cousin or aunt. I’ve always known and accepted that incest would be an integral part of my marriage and indeed, my life. It wouldn’t be fair to expect my husband to allow me to have sex with my dad and then try to say he can’t with my mom. Besides, how can anyone feel jealous of her husband for fucking her own mother, especially when he doesn’t do his own mom?

So putting aside the incest sex, it’s the other women outside of my marriage that sometimes make me think twice when he does them, especially when I am watching. That’s one of the reasons I prefer swapping with just another couple so we can each go off to separate rooms and I don’t get distracted by seeing Steve with another woman. Even though I know it’s just sex and that he loves me and doesn’t feel anything for her like he feels for me, I still see the intensity of his facial expressions when he fucks them and I know for at least that small moment when he is doing her that he loves what she is doing to him and he’s not thinking about me. Sure, maybe it’s a little hypocritical of me to say such things knowing that he must see the same in my face when I’m being fucked by other men, but it’s not the same. He WANTS me to fuck them for HIS pleasure as much as mine. I ALLOW him to fuck them because I love him and I know he enjoys it but there’s little pleasure in it for me.

By far the biggest surprise for me so far as Steve is concerned and how it impacts on my self-esteem is not so much the wives and women as part of the swapping we enjoy. It’s how much he has become more and more like my father that has been the eye-opener. Still, I don’t really blame Steve for taking advantage of the opportunities. Even so he’s different from my dad and his cravings. There’s a big difference between being a man who wants college girls almost exclusively versus what I consider to be normal male behavior when such a girl is made available.

While my dad enjoys sex with the women in his family such as me and my Aunt Linda, outside our family boundaries the only sex he has had since marriage is with college girls. I think my best friend Beth was a good example as he did her at the age of barely nineteen. Once my cousin Kristi and I got into our twenties and my cousin Tammy went off to finish college he was back to where he’d been not too many years before with no teenage girls available to him.

My mom, who had dealt with his porn addiction for years, had no issue with him fucking other girls so long as they were his kin. However she DID draw the line at doing it with anyone outside the family. Unfortunately, like an alcoholic falling off the wagon, once started there was no turning back for him. It was these “needs” that that resulted in my parents’ divorce. My mother still loves my dad dearly, but she couldn’t live with him and be married to him so long as he engaged in such activities. I can’t say I agree with my mom but I respect her decision and her standing up for her principles.

My mom’s situation plays deeply in how I approach Steve’s involvement in such activities. The difference between him and my dad is that I see Steve as being more of an opportunist. Steve just does what I think most men would do if they were given the same opportunities. I mean like what heterosexual man wouldn’t have sex with a willing college girl if he knew there would be no repercussions? Oh sure some men try to claim they wouldn’t but I have to wonder just how many of such high and mighty souls wouldn’t succumb to their instinctive lust if placed in the right situation. It’s easy to say you won’t do something when you don’t have to actually make the decision – as I well know. It’s not their fault that they want sex with such girls, they’re just hard-wired that way by God.

As for me, give me an older married father any day! Oh sure he may not be able to maintain an erection and cum three or four times a night, but there’s something to be said for maturity and experience. A forty year-old father wants to fuck ME whereas a nineteen year-old teenage boy wants to fuck ANYTHING. The mature man is concerned about MY hamile porno feelings and MY orgasm whereas all the teenager wants is to get himself off. The married man has to go home and face his wife knowing what he has done with me, sacrificing his most sacred vows. The college guy wants to brag to everyone about it and doesn’t care about my safety or security.

As I’ve been saying for years, THOSE are the men who build my self-esteem, the ones who massage my ego. Knowing the risks they take and how much they have to lose just to enjoy a few hours of sex with me, now THAT is guaranteed to make a girl feel good about herself. Even if he’s not cheating and we’re swapping partners I still prefer a guy my age or older just because they’re more experienced and care more about MY needs than their own. As I just said, young boys will fuck anything with a pussy, preferable human but that’s not necessarily a requirement. There’s nothing about ME in the equation. While it may be fun and feel good so far as the sex goes, it doesn’t do anything for my emotional needs, at least in the long term. Like when it comes to ego, it’s all about ME!

Thus the stage was set for one of my more “down” times. Lately I’ve tried to avoid the sex parties that my husband goes to along with my father and aunt for the reasons I mentioned. Yes, I’ve attended a few and I’m not going to try and claim that I didn’t enjoy myself at them as who would believe me? I mean, despite all I said there is still something special about having a college boy eager to fuck you and yes, there is that incredible enthusiasm they bring to the table, not to mention an almost insatiable erection.

It wasn’t until hours afterwards when I was back home that I would look in the mirror and ask myself why I did it. The answer was easy – my husband or father had asked me. True, I could’ve technically said no as they’ve never made it a formal demand to which I would’ve had to submit as a daughter or wife. I try to reserve my “NO” responses for those times when it really matters and means a lot to me. One of the things I am most proud of is that I have never said no” to my dad when he has asked me for sex and trust me, there were times when I really wanted nothing to do with it. But then the next day I would be relieved that I hadn’t broken my string and it was all worth it.

Lately these parties have led to some of my most depressing days. It’s not so much the times after I would accompany my husband. Those just make me sad later but I always seem to get over it quickly. It’s those times when I’m sitting home alone knowing where my husband is and what he is doing. I find myself wondering if in the heat of passion he even thinks of me while he’s fucking girls years younger than me. I really don’t expect that he would nor do I expect that he should – that would be extremely selfish of me. Besides, it’s not like he is hiding anything from me. I’ve made it clear that he has my blessings. It’s not like he’s cheating on me or hiding anything from me.

On a positive note I know that when he comes home that he will be practically drunk with sex and horny as hell, no doubt leading to a night of great sex. But still while he is out I have to feel a little down. Deep inside I know that those younger girls are satisfying him in the same manner that I did when I was their age but will never be able to again. We can role play and have fantasies but I can never again be that young eighteen year-old waif he fucked for the first time so many years ago.

It’s not just the sex parties that sometimes make me sad and doubting about myself. If there’s one thing that really sets me back and casts doubt on me as a sexual human being, it’s to be turned away for sex. While it was rare, there WERE times in college where a boy wouldn’t fuck me after I told him it was OK. Maybe it was a religious thing, worries about my past partners, concerns over pregnancy or whatever, it didn’t matter to me. The point was that any guy dating MUST have known my reputation so why bother taking me out if he wasn’t going to fuck me?

I don’t mean to say that every guy I dated had sex with me, quite the opposite in fact. While in general I didn’t mind blowing a guy if for nothing else than as a thank you for dinner or a movie, sex was much more carefully rationed out. There’s a difference between being a slut and a skank – a fine line but one nonetheless. The key for me was it was ME that made that decision, not him. Once I made up my mind to have sex with a guy, then I expected him to fuck me without any questions.

If it hurts being turned down by a boy at school, then imagine how it makes me feel to offer myself to my father or husband and have them say “no”. Actually they never really say no, they’re far too diplomatic and loving to be that blunt about it. Maybe they’re just “too busy” or not feeling good or some other lame excuse. It’s easier for me to accept that from Steve since we live together and I can’t expect him to be ready to screw me at the drop of a hat 24/7 (although he seems to think that I can when he wants it, LOL). It’s when my dad turns me away that really hurts as we do it so much less these days than we did when I lived at home. Yes, I know it’s very selfish of me but what can I say, it’s who I am.

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