Cj & Me
Copyright© 2025 by Arking
Chapter 9
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 9 - This is our story, CJ, a teenager, and a very much older woman, me. How we met, how we connected, how we coped with the many dramas such a relationship can have. Through heartache and pain, and so many happy moments, there are some very erotic sexual passages, all blended into the context of a life's journey. If you like, consider The OWLs Club and Hannah's Way.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/ft Consensual Reluctant Romantic Lesbian Fiction BDSM DomSub Rough Oral Sex Violence
“Where’s Paul.” She asked. I put on a false smile and said that he was on his way home as it was pretty late. I went to go past her, and she put her hand on my arm, just above my elbow.
“Is everything alright, what’s happened?” She enquired.
“Nothing, why?” and went on into the lounge room. There they all were, Dad, my 2 brothers, Alison my little brother’s girlfriend, I stopped and looked at each of them in turn. The small black and white TV was in the corner, with some late-night movie showing. They in turn were all looking at me.
“What’s going on?” I asked as they were all sipping from glasses of beer or a soft drink in Alison’s case. Mum had a cuppa next to her chair.
“Where’s Paul?” My dad asked. I turned back towards the front door and caught mum shaking her head. My questioning look turn to a glare when it came to Alan. I thought to myself that this had all the makings of a setup.
“He’s gone home dad. I don’t think he will be around for a while!” I said in a cold tone.
Alan stood up and started to say something, but I jumped in first. “You big brother, had better stay out of my life. You do not speak for me, nor does anyone have to tell you anything about what I’m up to, who I’m seeing, who I can and can’t marry. Nothing understood? Just leave me alone, OK.”
He stopped and with a stony look on his face, as this was the first time ever, I had stood up to him, he took a swig of his beer.
“Fine!” he shouted back, his tone was hardened, and his volume increased to make the next point “but don’t you dare come running to me, asking for my help if this is the gratitude, I get for helping out.” Little did I realise how this simple and innocuous statement would come back to haunt me throughout my life.
“Alan, you haven’t helped, you have made it worse, you bloody idiot!” I was yelling at the top of my voice.
Both Mum and Dad came between us, my Mother raised a finger to my face, waving it at me. “Don’t you dare raise your voice in my house young lady, you aren’t with your street friends now.” Dad was even more vocal. “Calm down you two, what on earth has got into you both?” His voice was raised the loudest out of all of us, rare as it was in our house.
I withdrew into my shell, my safe place. I could see Ken, my little brother, smiling at it all, and poor young Alison didn’t know where to look. I glared at Alan once more over my Mother’s shoulder. Who was still trying to act as both a calming influence on me as well as a referee in a boxing match, keeping my brother and me apart. My dad had Alan’s attention by placing his hand on his chest, easing him backward.
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