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Incest
2008-01-08

        When I was growing up my sister always wore pantyhose. It didn't matter what time of day, day of the week. She'd sometimes where 2 pairs in one day.
          I have had a fetish for girls feet in pantyhose as long as I can remember. That's not to say I don't enjoy their feet bare or in some cases socks, but there is just something special about pantyhose. I would constantly be staring at my sister's feet. I loved the way they looked and how I imagined they's feel. It was around this time I would do anything I could to get close to her feet. I was fairly succesful but I had to be careful as she was a fair bit older than me and I knew if she found out about my fetish she wouldn't hesitate to blow my cover. Deep down I wished  could just come right out and ask her if I could smell her pantyhosed feet but as I said before that wasn't an option.
           I was left alone once I got a bit older and would sneak into her room and go through her pantyhose and let me tell you she had tons. I would spend countless hours smelling the feet of her nylons. I was never into the crotch. My sister's feet never really smelled bad. She was just one of those chicks who never had stinky feet. There was a scent but nothing overwhelming.

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   If anything it was beautiful and would get me incredibly hard. I would masterbate frequently after smelling her pantyhose, or on the reare occasion her feet.
            My sister would come home from work and sometimes have a nap on the couch. I remember one time specifically she fell asleep on the couch and was dressed in jeans and pantyhose with reinforced toe. I slowly crept to where she was laying and bent down and smelled her nyloned feet. It was magical. I got instantly hard and while I wanted to savour the moment I couldn't chance waking her. I took another quick sniff of each foot and then went to my bedroom to masterbate. Thinking she was asleep, or just not thinking clearly as I was still reeling from one of my biggest dreams coming true, I did not close my bedroom door, which was right next to the bathroom. As I was reaching  orgasm I turned and saw my sister staring at me. This made the orgasm way more intense. She never said a word then or ever.
            I'm certain things happened between me and my sister long before any of this and I have just blocked it out. I am also quite certain I was not a willing participant. However, to this day the thought of consentual sibling incest turns me on.

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   Perhaps there is more to come. . . . .  
           
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