Chapter 1

Hello everyone! My name is Maggie and I’m here to share my story with you. This all happened quite a few years ago now and I’ve been dodging the repercussions the whole time. Not that telling this story is going to make everything right all of a sudden or anything, but my therapist said that writing it out might help me cope. I figured that if I’m going to write out what happened I might as well post it somewhere that people will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed living it.

I guess the best place to start is a bit before the beginning. I feel like the way everyone knows each other is key to how a lot of this plays out, so I should introduce all of the major characters here.

There’s me, Maggie Morgan and since this is my story then I’ll be your main character. Right now I’m 23, but this story isn’t about me now. This is about me 9 years ago when I was 14 and just starting my way through high school. Physically I was a bit of a late bloomer and because of that I never got much attention from the boys. That attention was all focused on my best friend, Daphne. But we’ll get to her soon.

For starters, I barely had any tits at the time. They weren’t shaped anything like they are now, basically being two cones topped with overly sensitive nipples. I didn’t have much along the lines of hips yet either which meant you didn’t see much definition between them and my waist. My ass was ok, not big but definitely not flat. I had my hair in a short wavy bob and dyed platinum blonde. I’m naturally a brunette and I liked the way my hair looked with my dark eyebrows. My eyes were pretty average, brown but large. I’ve always been told I have the kind of eyes that will make a guy do anything for me. I’ve always had a cute face with a little button nose that made me look way too innocent. If you’re wondering, I had a little bit of a bush at the time, but it was dark and thin still.

When I started high school I hated my body. I wanted to look more like a woman and less like a child. I was the first girl in my friend group to get her period and I thought for sure that was the start of my new body, but two years later this is what I was working with.

Dafne, or Daf as we called her, was my best friend for my entire life. We were more like sisters than friends. We talked about everything! There was no privacy between us at all. We talked about boys, masturbation, fantasies, and everything else. We’d been bathing together since we were little and never balked at changing in front of each other. We were comfortable enough with each other that we frequently compared bodies as they changed and grew over the years. We even practiced kissing more times than I’d like to admit.

Daf was about two months older than me, but hit puberty a lot harder than I did. By the time our story starts she had nicely shaped tear drop breasts that were much bigger than mine. While she was wearing a B or C cup I was still wearing a bandeau. Of course this made the boys flock to her. She was taller than me with perfect legs, round hips, a big bouncy ass, and a tiny waist. Her hair was long and strawberry blonde and her eyes were very blue. She had a much sexier and almost sultry face. I swear hanging out with her made me look even more like a kid by comparison. I loved Daf, but was always jealous of how she looked.

Daf’s dad, Keith Harper, is the other major player in our story. He was best friends with my dad since they were in middle school. By the time they started high school he was dating my mom, Shanon, and continued that relationship until they graduated. Life happened, as is usually the case, and they split up. In college my dad and my mom got together while Daf’s dad met her mom before the two of them moved back to his home town. The four of them hung out all the time, which is basically how Daf and I became BFFs.

They were all 27 when Daf and I were born, except Daf’s mom who was 24. So when I was 14 they were 41 and 38. Keith was tall and incredibly handsome. He had messy brown hair, a nice chiseled jawline, and broad shoulders. He was usually clean shaven, but when he went a day or two without there was this patch of grey around his chin that made me a little weak in the knees. He wasn’t in the greatest shape, but he certainly hadn’t let himself go. There was no real definition to his chest or stomach, but he didn’t have a gut or anything. His arms though, wow. His arms were strong and big. Not like looking at a body builder or anything, but if he was wearing a T-shirt then the arms would be stretched tight and I found myself staring far more than any girl should be. Then there was his ass. He didn’t wear clothes that really highlighted it, but it was well shaped and, as I found out later, very firm and toned.

Now that you have a better idea of the three main players in my story I’m going to tell you where it all started. You might be surprised to learn that it began earlier than you’re probably thinking, but maybe not in the way you’re imagining.

It all started a few weeks before Halloween. I was up in the attic rummaging through all of mom’s old stuff to try and piece together a last minute costume. I wasn’t old enough to be a sexy version of something, not that I had the body to pull it off anyway, so I was just seeing what I could come up with. I remember that I found something I could use, but at this point I don’t even know what it was. But I clearly remember what I found inside mom’s old hope chest.

The first thing I pulled out was mom’s old sketch book. I never knew she was into art until I flipped through it. Her name was on the first page along with a year and a warning to keep out. The book was full of pencil drawings that were actually really well done. It made me wonder why mom doesn’t draw anymore. There were drawings of her friends, sceneries, still life, all the normal things you would expect to find. Based on the dates, she started doing this when she was 10, in 1992. Every page had a year marked on it and it was so cool to see how her skills got better over time. I loved seeing this side of my mom, it’s like I was visiting her when she was a kid and seeing a bit of life through her eyes.

Then one page made me stop suddenly. This one was very different from all of the pictures before. I found myself staring at an incredibly detailed and almost expertly shaded drawing of an erect penis. I swear, if it had been coloured I could have mistaken it for a photograph. Up until this point in my life I’d never really seen a penis before. I mean, I did some babysitting and changed diapers. I saw diagrams in health class. I even saw dad’s a few times over the years. But I’ve never seen one like this. It was so detailed and realistic. It was also, as I said, erect. The bottom of the page just said K.H. 1996. If you realized that K.H. probably means Keith Harper, then you’re much smarter than I was.