Keller Parent Concern: Fill & Download for Free

To many sighted people, the prospect of losing one's sight is terrifying. They think about what they would lose: independence, visual beauty, reading labels at Costco. Pretty awful, uh?I won't lie. It's not a hot stone massage with nubile young men feeding me peeled grapes. It's not that bad, either. It's ... life and you learn how to deal with it. You don't lose as much independence as you'd think as long as you use adaptive techniques. Visual beauty is only one form of beauty. And, reading labels at Costco isn't all that interesting.I can speak with some authority on this matter since I have retinitis pigmentosa[1] (RP), I've been slowly losing my sight since birth. At first, it was simply night blindness, then my peripheral vision narrowed (more precisely, I have blind spots that are gradually getting larger). Recently, my RP began to affect my central vision, turning it blurry and distorted.[2] My blind spots will get bigger, and my central vision will get blurrier until I see nearly nothing. Right now, I have blind spots that are fairly large, 20/250 vision in the left eye and 20/350 in the right ... so yeah, I'm fairly blind.Of course, I have the complicating factor of bilateral profound deafness (partially mitigated by cochlear implants), as I have Usher Syndrome, which pairs hearing loss and vision loss.[3[ (Cue the Helen Keller jokes now.) So, my experiences aren't typical for someone going blind, if there is such a thing as a typical experience in this case.This is one of those times where brevity would be a disservice, so pardon the length of this answer. Proceed with caution.Making choicesMy early diagnosis (at age six) was equal parts a blessing and curse. Many people with RP aren't diagnosed until their teens or early adulthood.Knowing my vision would recede into near-nothingness helped me make certain life decisions, mostly for the positive. I'll let you into a little secret: Having your choices winnowed down to a few makes it easier to make a choice and be happy with the choice. If you have a plethora of choices, you're far more likely to get hung up on the inconsequential and superficial differences (Betty has blonde hair, but Veronica has black hair, and Amy has red hair!), rather than focusing on the substantive differences. Moreover, once you have a choice, there's an inherent element of regret. If something goes wrong, you'll always think, "Only if I had chosen Betty/Amy/Susan/Wanda, instead of Veronica!" If you have 3, instead of 100 choices, the differences are clearer and regret is minimized.[4]When I was sixteen, I faced the rite of passage of learning how to drive with great confusion and trepidation. I lived in suburban-rural upstate New York where a car was a necessity. All of my friends were getting their licenses as I stewed in frustration and angst. My mother refused to let me drive, but through pure teenage obstinacy, I got my learner's permit and started lessons. I reasoned that my sight was still quite good, so it was all right.When I began lessons, I began to consider the realities of my future for the first time. Behind the wheel of a large SUV, I wondered if I would be self-aware enough to stop driving when I needed to ... before I hurt anyone.The truth was no. I was entirely too stubborn and willful to stop before the bitter end and potentially pay a high price.So, I handed in my learner's permit for a non-driver's ID. For my entire life, I've used public transportation and grabbed rides from friends and family. It's not a bad way to live. I don't have to think about auto insurance rates or car maintenance. My impending vision loss made my moral compass clear for me. My RP helped me hone my moral compass early on: Be independent in a way that doesn't unnecessarily endanger others.My impending vision loss narrowed my career options, but eventually led me down the right path.As a science buff in grade schools, I entertained the idea of becoming a doctor. After thinking about it more, I realized that it wasn't the most practical route, and would result in me doing something I didn't want toSo, I reassessed my talents, as meager as they were, and decided on a more language-based career path. In the back of my mind, I considered words to be a permanent part of my life, no matter what my sight or hearing were like. Words are words, in braille or text. Words and language were the ultimate equalizers, since people would only judge me by my words, not my speech or sight.When I entered the law, I had planned that I would have enough time before I lost my sight to make myself indispensable. Through the vagaries of life and the economy, my plan fell through. (I learned that thinking that you can plan your life is incredibly foolish and arrogant. Life has a tendency to defy all attempts to control it.)It was only when I began losing my sight in earnest that my career path became clear.I realized that I was more in love with the idea of the law than the practice itself. What I was truly passionate about was writing and reading. So, I did that instead.The nice thing about being deafblind is that nobody really expects much from you in terms of earning power or achievement. So, you might as well do what you like doing.Sped-up deadlinesWhen you know you're going blind, many things in your life seem accelerated. You start to think about your life as bifurcated: before and after.I never had the illusion that there would be a next time because I knew maybe there wouldn't be. I began making choices based on collecting the maximum experiences as early as possibleIt was all about the now. I was very impatient.This impatience has led me to do some pretty stupid and smart things.A few weeks before my 30th birthday, I can look back at my life with a certain level of satisfaction. It has been a hell of a ride so far.I've interacted with all sorts of people, Deaf, blind, immigrants, rich, poor, smart, and not-so-smart. I've lived in about 10 different states and some foreign countries. I left home at 15 to go to boarding school (overriding my parents' concerns). I went to the hardest and most challenging schools I could because I thought it'd be fun.It amuses me when people assume that their lives are a constant. I always knew mine wasn't, so I've taken risks accordingly. I, however, tried to be smart about risks. I never took risks that I thought would bring more long-term pain than momentary pleasure.Of course, lowered risk aversion also leads to some stupidity.I considered college my last shot at pure carefreeness, so I partied my little heart out. There was also a period during my late teens where I would flirt with any guy who showed a passing interest in me. (Not nearly enough of them took the bait, unfortunately.) At one point, I was going to a party five nights out of seven (but I maintained my academics, so I thought I was doing fine). I wasn't actually fine; I was probably on the edge of alcoholism, and even today, I have a fraught relationship with drinking.Truthfully, I still have a lot of these characteristics, even as my vision slips towards nothingness. I'm fairly game for many things.Relearning how to live lifeHaving your vision gradually recede means that you are always chasing a moving target. You adapt to a certain level of vision, learn how to surmount any residual difficulties, adjust your lifestyle ... and it changes again. It's like some weird evolutionary adaption game that's rigged (I think the name of the game is Life).For most of my life, it was relatively easy to adapt. I figure out ways to walk at night using memory and landmarks. I always walked behind people so I could tell that stairs were coming up based on their head movements. It wasn't all that difficult to adjust to the small vision changes.At a certain point, you lose enough vision that simple adaptions don't cut it anymore and you need to change your life. For me, that point came about two years ago.It's a big lifestyle change.I began navigating the world using a white cane, relying more on feel, sounds, patterns, and my remaining sight. I reorganized my apartment, and turned myself from an admitted slob into a reasonably tidy person (otherwise, you're asking for a lot of stubbed toes and bruises). I interacted with words in a new way via Braille and enlarged text.Change is hard, especially when it touches upon so many of the little things in life. I had to reconsider how I did everything. How would I read the mail? How would I write checks? How would I add a tip on a credit card slip? There were even unexpected questions like: What shoes should I wear when I walk everywhere? What should I do with my white cane when I have to carry bags?At first, these questions are overwhelming and nobody has all of the answers for you. The shift from partial sightedness into blindness is the hardest one. Hopefully, the changes after this one will be easier, since I'm getting better at being blind.Personality changesUndergoing a major life change--involving a vision loss or not--has a tendency of bringing out unwelcome changes in your personality. I'll admit that I lost myself for a little while.Most people would have described me as good-natured, quick to smile and laugh, and even-keeled. I was the one whom people spilled their guts to (therefore, I know entirely too much about my friends' sexual lives). Don't get me wrong. I was and am not a saint. I've been known to hold grudges and say hurtful things once someone has crossed a certain line.When my vision suddenly tanked without warning, a lot of those things changed. I didn't smile as often. My temper shrank to the size of a gnat. My self-esteem took what would be categorized as a roundhouse kick to the head. I became self-pitying and melancholy.I became a different person for a little while. A person I didn't particularly like.A large part of it was my shift from an assumption of competence to feeling incompetent.I was accustomed to success. I learned how to speak after getting a cochlear implant at age 6. I performed well academically at rigorous schools. I passed a few bar exams. I liked to do things and do them well.When my vision tipped from a nuisance into a disability, I no longer knew what to do.Getting around became a strange maze full of confusing images and new rules. People began to interact with me completely differently, always approaching me and even grabbing me in public. I had no idea how to react or manage these things because I was new at being blind, but people expected me to know what to do.Now that I'm achieving a semblance of assurance in my new life, I feel my old self returning, with some changes. I've learned not to be as harsh on myself, and allow myself to make mistakes. I hope I've become humbler, but who in the hell knows? All I know is that I'm smiling again.The new person in the mirrorA surprising side-effect of my vision loss is the readjustment of my perception of my body ... for the better.I'm an ordinary woman in the sense that I had spots of insecurities about my body. My legs were too short and my nose a bit too big. I'd look in the mirror and see things that I disliked (Oh, that stupid tummy!). I attached a fair part of my self-confidence to what I saw in the mirror.If you can't see yourself clearly in the mirror ... what happens?After a period of deep insecurity about my physical appearance, largely fueled by the sudden dearth of male attention, I began a new relationship with my own body. Unable to see myself all that well, I've begun to focus more on how I feel. Do I feel strong? Fat? Ugly? Pretty? These things are all internal.Now that I swim regularly and wear fun clothes, I feel far prettier and more at home in my own body than I ever did before. I'm discovering that I quite like the body I inhabit. I don't think about the imperfections because I can't see them. Impending wrinkles? Who cares?Ironically, seeing my body only in a blurry and distorted form has made me appreciate it more. Funny how the world works.The guilt conundrumWhen you go blind, there are a lot of resources to help you learn how to adjust to your new life, but nobody tells you how to deal with others' grief about your vision loss.My first experience with others' overwhelming grief happened when I was in 9th grade. I had a low-vision teacher whom I met with once a week for training, and she worked with many other students with progressive vision loss.One day, as we began our session, she told me, "One of my students lost all of his vision yesterday. He woke up and it was gone," then she proceeded to cry. She carried on for a little while, asking me for advice. Being 13, I had no words of wisdom to provide.In the back of my mind, I realized that some day I would have to face this. Others who cared for me would grieve for my loss … when I didn't need grief.The ironic thing is that many of my loved ones had a harder time adjusting to my blindness than I did. Not only did they have to watch me struggle to orient myself to the new world, but they had to change how they interacted with me. A lot of them felt a degree of guilt that I was the one going through this, and they had perfect sight and hearing.This sentiment sets off a feedback loop. They feel guilty about being spared my difficulties. I feel guilty that they feel guilty. They feel guilty about feeling guilty and making me feel guilty. And so on.The guilt, by far, is the most difficult part of going blind. Logistics can be learned. Identity and self-perceptions can be adjusted. Guilt ... is far more insidious, chipping away at your relationship with your family and loved ones.Luckily, most people get over it eventually.In all and all, losing your sight is hard, but it isn't unendurable. You get used to your new life. You learn how to do things differently.You get one life to live, so you might as well get on the business of living.N.B. This answer focuses on the emotional and intellectual facets of vision loss. See here for more details on the sensory and pratical side of things: What is it like to be blind?_______[1]: Retinitis pigmentosa[2]: For more details on what I see and other aspects of being blind, read: http://www.quora.com/What-is-it-like-to-be-blind[3]: Usher syndrome[4]: This idea of "Less is More" comes from a psychological study that more consumer choices (e.g. 100 varieties of shampoo versus 4) increases anxiety and unhappiness. The Paradox of Choice. I think the same principle applies to life. If you're choosing between 100 potential significant others, you'll get hung up on superficial differences and the fear of missing out (FOMO) rather than focusing on what is truly important to you.

Seeing as she was blind and deaf, it’s most likely that her family initially never expected any man to be interested in marrying her. In later years, they may have had other concerns.Helen Keller and her teacher, Annie Sullivan, formed a very close bond, and when Helen was finally capable of leaving home, she traveled with Annie, who gave lectures and workshops on training others with Helen’s condition. Having Helen Keller there as living proof of her technique’s efficacy certainly helped!However, as mutually beneficial as their relationship was, it was stressful. Annie was already a young woman, and she was interested in men. Helen was growing into a young woman herself. There were times when she crossed certain lines by showing attention to young men Annie invited over. If Annie went out, it meant leaving Helen alone; if a gentleman came over, Helen had to remain hidden away and silent. To Annie, Helen was quite the burden as far as landing a husband went.To make matters worse, Annie had taken on a somewhat parental role. On at least one occasion, a young man showed interest in Helen, and began courting her. Annie chased him off with a rolling-pin or something! Did she doubt his intentions? Had he given her reason to doubt his intentions? Or was she just worried about losing Helen, who she needed up on that stage with her when giving lectures?Eventually, though, Annie succeeded in marrying one John Macy, and they set up house with Helen as a permanent tenant. There, Helen continued her work with the American Foundation for the Blind (and Handicapped - last two words were added later). When Annie’s health began to fail, they hired one Polly Thompson to assist around the house. Although Polly had no prior experience with deaf or blind people, she soon became a good companion for Helen. Another tenant arrived at this time, one Peter Fagan, a reporter for the Boston Herald, who came to interview Annie and Helen and stayed on as Helen’s secretary.In her thirties, Helen had an affair with Peter Fagan, and they became engaged and attempted to elope. I have no details on this, but it appears this was in defiance of her teacher and her family. The marriage never took place, and it doesn’t appear that she had any further romantic adventures.By now, Helen had quite a career going, with various civic organizations. She was world-famous. Also, as Annie’s own health deteriorated, Helen became responsible for her.It’s possible that, by now, she agreed with her family that marriage simply had no place in her life. Bear in mind that she would very likely have been expected to disappear from the public eye and bear children, while her husband was the breadwinner. At this point she had a full calendar and made a good deal of money (for a woman at that time). Society was not ready to accept a husband-and-wife team in which the husband served mainly as secretary and live-in babysitter for his wife the breadwinner.Heck, society still has trouble accepting the idea. Sigh…

Disclaimer: This’s an (admittedly) incredibly long, but nonetheless true story about a consensual encounter of mine. If you don’t wanna read about this encounter and/or are not 18+ stop now.My sister’s a bit older than me, and when I was about 16 and she was around 17 I accidentally walked in on her taking a bath (we had one of those shared hallway bathrooms between our two bedrooms). Because of another issue our plumbing happened to not really be working in any other bathroom, and I wasn’t gonna take a shit outside, so after the initial weirdness and me averting my eyes, I loudly said, “Fuck, sorry Sarah! I’m sorry I promise I’m not looking, but I gotta take a shit.” She sighed loudly. It wasn’t exactly the first time one of us needed to use the toilet while the other was getting ready though. We had seen each other naked a few brief times before that, but never when one of us was doing something so out in the open like a bath.Even though the toilet was kinda tucked in it’s own corner next to the shower/tub, and neither of us could see one another it was bizarre, and the fear didn’t exactly help my normal constipation. An awkward silence ensued for the next 2–3 minutes or so, and eventually my sister broke the silence first. “Are you gonna be finished up anytime soon?”After a nervous laugh I replied, “Sorry, it’s just. This’s a little awkward.”“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”I blushed, “Well yeah, but not like this.”Then I think she realized something that even I hadn’t admitted to myself yet, I was hard. She didn’t react disgustedly though she just responded, “It’s just the same parts every other girl has, come on it’s not that special.”She continued to reassure me for a couple minutes and eventually I shat, but I didn’t want her to see what I had just realized (my hard dick), so I continued to make conversation. We talked for about 10 minutes or so, and eventually we kinda forgot that both of us just happened to be naked about a foot from each other. It sounds odd, but for some reason after recognizing that I wouldn’t be able to make my dick go down anytime soon, I think I just decided I had already seen her stuff, so it’d almost be unfair if she didn’t see mine.I had actually just gotten home from a run when I first ran into the bathroom, I wasn’t even wearing a shirt, so when I stepped out of my shorts and boxers I was totally in the nude. In the middle of my sisters sentence about the whole house sorting system at Hogwarts, I walked around the corner and stood there in front of her stark naked.Another disclaimer: Now, you can believe the following or not. I don’t care, but either way this’s the truth about everything that happened next.She didn’t exactly stare, more surveyed me with with her eyes for a couple seconds, before letting out a nervous laugh. I joined her and in that moment all the tension in the air completely evaporated.Surveying her in return, my dick stiffened. She was also a runner, with thick muscular but well shaven legs, an athletic build with some abs, and broad shoulders. Between the smooth long legs there rested a tiny bush, triangular, with small dark brown tightly woven curls. Her legs were spread just enough so that I could see the tiny line of her vulva lips peaking through the hair, they looked soft, tight, and apparently a little shaven, but just around there. Glancing up I saw (what’re in my opinion still the best breasts in the world) her voluptuous, natural, and perfectly full boobs. Her nipples were a soft faded pink, and perked up, completely even with one another in the center of her (admittedly pale) chest, the area surrounded by a distinct tan line. I had folded enough of her laundry to know that she was a 38 D, and had jogged with her enough times to see her in hundreds of sports bras, so yeah, so I knew she had a nice rack, but seeing those expectantly large soft jugs with stiff nipples completely unrestricted, just laying there half submerged in the slightly soapy water was something infinitely different, and more arousing to say the least.If you need a stronger visual, imagine Riley Reid’s pussy on an even fitter body, a huge round ass, and Connie Carters tits to top it all off.We didn’t say anything for a few seconds, as we examined each other, then I decided to break the silence this time.“Nothing special? Are you joking?!?”Her face flushed, “What? Oh, thanks I guess.” She let out a small giggle. “Not so bad yourself there.” She nodded towards my upright dick.I blushed again, even more than her, because believe it or not I was actually way more nervous than she was. I knew she had been with a guy or two before, and this was my first time really seeing a girl (not online) naked.“Oh, thanks.” I sputtered with a hesitant grin.“A little unkempt I guess, but still a pretty good size.” she teased.I peaked down quickly. I guess she was right, I had never really shaved, and the same triangle of neatly woven curls around her pussy, was a large mess around the base of my shaft.“Well you’re one to talk!” I retorted half heartedly.“Um yeah I am!” she responded. At first I wasn’t sure what she was doing, but in a shift, the water in the tub almost reached the brim, swashing and swishing. She had sat up on the end of the tub opposite from me, next to the bundled lavender scented curtain, and her legs were wide open, one draped over the edge of the tub, the either resting on the side against the wall. Between the two I saw her beautiful taut pink pussy, curves tucked beneath curves, lips open zealously, and as I expected, it was hairless. “I got no hair where it counts bro!” she said gesturing with both hands down towards it.I was a little surprised. “Um, yeah. I can see that.” I replied stifling a little smile. “Wouldn’t shaving down there, uh…hurt a bit though?”She rolled her eyes, “I mean girls go through it all the time! And not just with our pussies, with are faces, and legs, and basically everywhere, because ‘guys like it soft’ fuckin pedophiles. As a guy, just sayin, it might be nice if you made a little effort.”Maybe she was right. “Ok, point taken.” She looked at me, satisfied for a second, before trailing her eyes back down to my dick. There was something strange in the way she was looking at me. I couldn’t quite place it.All of a sudden a question popped in my head, “Wait, Sarah, so do guys go down on you often then?”She was clearly a little taken aback, but then I think recognized the fact that she had her legs spread in a bath in a room with her and her brother totally naked, so now wasn’t really the time for modesty. “Sometimes, they’ll almost always find an excuse not to though, even if you were literally JUST sucking them off.”“Assholes!” I said, looking down at the floor.“yeah.” she muttered softly. “It’s not really that complicated, is it?”“I mean, compared to a blowjob, kinda.”“Well guys cum from just looking at a chick. So I guess yeah, that makes sense.”I begrudgingly nodded, a little embarrassed.“But it shouldn’t be so complicated! I mean it’s not like the main reason for sex is even to have kids anymore, now it’s to get some fuckin pleasure, and if 50% of the people involved aren’t cumin then it’s a shitty agreement.”“Wait, so by your definition, if I ever have a threesome, I only have to get one of the girls to cum?”“Oh my gosh.” She slapped her wrist on her forehead. “Ok, ok, two things there. One, like you’re ever gonna have a threesome!” She laughed a bit, “And two, how fuckin lazy are you!?”My face flushed. “Ok, you’re right.”“Thank you.”“But making a girl cum is harder to be fair, and it’s not like there’s a course in it.”She gave me that look again and then said something I’ll never forget. “Ok, well then come here, I’ll show you.Another Another Disclaimer: (sorry I know there are a lot of disclaimers here, but this’s the last one, I swear). This next bit’s where it get’s really raunchy, so really if your not comfortable and/or aren’t 18+ then DON’T KEEP READING! Also, I know this sounds like some sort of fan fic, seriously I’m aware of that. Obviously I don’t have a perfect memory, and this’s made to portray exactly how I felt during this experience in my life so I’m presenting it in a raunchy way, but I promise this’s as accurate to what really happened as I can make it.At first I just let out a dry laugh, and looked at the ceiling, trying to avoid eye contact with her. Then I realized that it was only me laughing and meeting her eyes I knew she wasn’t joking. I took a deep gulp, and shut the door connecting the bathroom and my bedroom.Tentatively I stepped into the tub, and squatted down. Whether it was the warm water, her persistent look, or a combination of the two, the hairs on my arms stood on end, and I’d never felt my heart racing faster in my life.“So…” I said nervously.“Soooo….”We both laughed for the millionth time, but this one was closer, and way less nervous. Honestly we just laughed like you would during a great comedy special, until we couldn’t breath, and once the laughter died down both physically and emotionally we were a little closer. The smell of lavender shampoo lathering the water.She spread her legs a little wider and went to grab my hand. I took a deep gulp of air. Reaching over she gave my dick a quick tug, before taking me by the wrist and stopping at a hover over her eager pussy.Looking back up at me seriously she said,“Ok, so there’s a lot that you can do.”“Thanks for the incredibly specific advice.” I teased.“Shut the fuck up.” She responded in a chuckle.I stuck my tongue out in a smile, and glanced back down.After making sure she had my attention she continued, “Ok, so-” her pitch intensified “-as I was saying before I was so RUDLEY interrupted!”I smiled, and her pitch went back to normal. “-there’s, a lot that you can do. You can just be blunt about it and stick your finger in the vagina-” she pulled my finger so that it grazed her vagina, and I’m not sure if it was the bath or not, but it was definitely a little wet. “-but that’s usually a bad idea straight out.” She pulled my hand back and set it to hover in it’s spot again. “Now one of the biggest things that people get wrong is the clit.” She looked up at me in a curious way and said, “find my clit.” I took another nervous gulp, and peaked down. I looked this up online before, but putting it into practice was a whole other thing. I dipped my hand into the soapy warm water before tracing my index and middle finger tips along her inner lips, before coming to the clitoral hood (to use the technical term) at their crest, and started to softly rub up and down along her clit. She relaxed a bit, and let out a deep sigh, closing her eyes for a second before sitting back up and taking my wrist again.“Ok, so, u got that down.” She cast a grin my way, and I flushed a bit. “But, what I was gonna say is that while a lotta guys are just as helpless finding a girls clit as they are the resta the time with directions, once you find it you can’t only play with it.” This was a little surprising, but I’d figured there was probably more to it anyways. She continued,”every girl’s different, but for most girls to cum, it takes a lot. Foreplay helps-” she took my hand along her upper thigh, and shifted up, letting me grab her juicy ass “grabbing a girls legs, ass,-” she pulled my hand up to her chest bending me forward a bit, so that I could touch her boobs. I’m sure there are better adjectives to describe how I felt, but in the moment more than anything I just thought, wow, those’re so soft, and squishy. Her hard nipple bristled through my fingers, as she finished her sentence,”-and boobs.”She put my hand back down, and as I bent back up our eyes met again. I can’t be certain, but I’m about 90% sure I reflected her same look back at her. That or I just looked constipated.Either way, she continued. “So one of the other important things to remember is lube. A lotta condoms come with lube on them, and lube bottles r really cheap themselves, but if you don’t have any, eating a girl out is another great natural way to do it.” She glanced back at me to make sure I was paying close attention and let my hand go, her hands coming down to her pussy. Each briskly dipped in and out of the water is a smooth glide, before the left slid around her lips and entered her vagina, the right pulsating on her clit. “Often, it can take a couple hands, or some oral mixed in. More than anything it’s whatever the girl’s comfortable with.”I nodded, as my hand slid back to my dick poking out of the water firmer than ever before. Stroking up and down the water batted back and forth, making splashes. Sarah smiled, and kept up her instruction, “The biggest thing to remember is pretty simple. It takes a girl more time to cum, so give her what she likes and needs, and trust me it’s way hotter.”I couldn’t take it anymore! I slid my legs around, and not caring about the water splashing on the bathroom floor, I moved on top of her, pressing up against her soapy wet body, grabbing her ass in my left hand, and the back of her neck in my right. I knew it was a cheesy line but I said it anyways,”Trust me, it will be.” Ignoring the eye roll, focusing on her grin I went in for the kiss, and she didn’t draw back, or even seem that shocked, if anything she had an expression that seemed to say, what took you so long?We made out for a few minutes, my dick pressing against her thigh, and then I made my way down her tight fit body.First I grabbed her shoulders, and gingerly worked my way down her neck, kiss by kiss. Then I pressed my face into her boobs, and motor boated her in a “bu blu buh bu”. The thick skin smacked my cheeks and I could’ve died in her warm bosom right then. She halted my face with her hand suddenly and pulled me up to look at her. Fuck, I probably shouldn’t have done that. “Ok, you’re lucky that I actually like motor boats, because man is that something you gotta fuckin check before hand to see if the chick likes it!”“Sorry.”“Well-” she grinned, “-don’t stop”.With a dopy wide smile, I went back to work. After another great couple motorboats, I put each of her dense nipples in my mouth, tracing each areola with my tongue, and fuck did she like that! Her whole body shuddered, and after a minute or so I finally reached my destination, between her draped wide legs.This close up it was even more perfect. So tight, and even, puffy wide lips greeted me for a kiss and I softly obliged. At first I went more quickly, but after asking Sarah what she thought, and getting that negative, are you really asking me that question, look I started going slower.I relaxedly aid my tongue wide and flat against my chin, using my head to stroke her entire pussy slowly, before coming back up and repeating. It stretched slightly, almost tickling my tongue more and more after each stroke, tasting mostly neutral, but with a hint of a weird almost sweet penny like flavor too it.Whatever it tasted like, I wanted more of it. My nose brustling in her bush, minute after minute I never tired. She didn’t moan like every actress in porn apparently does, but she kept shuddering softly, and curling her toes near my ears. Once she began tensing up even more, her toes curled so far I could’ve sworn she’d get a cramp, her breathing and heart rate changed even more, and she grabbed a fist full of my hair pressing me further into her pussy, I knew she was about to cum. Finally outright engaging the clit I’d teased for the past 10 minutes she gave a final shudder, and relaxed, bringing her legs down, stretching them out in the tub.I looked up from the place of my mischief and caught her steel gaze. “Good?”, I asked hopefully.In place of a verbal answer she drew me in for a kiss, our bodies pressing against one another again. I felt her tender fingers drawing my cock into her, and in 10 or so thrusts later I came too.I moved off the top of her, and laying in the lavender temperate water, now being more warmed by our shared body heat than anything, we really laughed.It might’ve been the fun of the moment, or the fact that we were brother and sister, or just sheer awkwardness, but one thing’s for certain, that day was the best sex of my entire life.It was so intimate, but safe, so familiar, but new. Honestly the experience gave me more confidence that I could make a girl cum than any random half-drunk party encounter with some girl from cross country could.I know a lot of people might think it’s sad that my first time was with my sister, but I’m not!Final Disclaimer: Hah, I lied, there’s yet one more (last) disclaimer! In the following bit I talk about our life up till now, but this’s the end as far as the initial event is concerned, so it you don’t care then stop here.For a couple days after we played it cool. There were definitely plenty of awkward glances, and I could never look at her tits bouncing up and down when we went on runs together in that sports bra, or her curved body in a bikini when we went to the pool as a family, the same way.After that the small hallway bathroom became my second favorite place in the whole world. In the two years before Sarah left for college we must’ve taken a hundred showers/baths together in there, and at night it served as our little secret passageway to come meet each other. Even on nights when we wouldn’t fuck, it was nice to just hold eachother. Be near one another. On weekends when our parents were gone, we’d shut all the curtains, and walk around completely naked. One time it was a Sunday, and we were actually fucking on the couch in the middle of the living room while going on an 8 movie marathon challenge (u have to make eachother cum at least once per movie for over 8 movies, which spans like over at least a solid day) and our parents started to walk in! We managed to make it up to each of our rooms before they came inside, but man was that exhilarating!All in all we kept it very well hidden, each of us had boyfriends and girlfriends during the remainder of high school, but really none of them could compete with what we had.Of course, we went on plenty of dates. For some reason, no one seemed to think it was odd how much we hung out with eachother, I guess everyone just thought we were just a really close brother and sister.When Sarah left for College things got a little tougher, but once I graduated things got back to the way they were, and even a little better, because we were able to afford an apartment together!I think it was around this time our step dad started to get a little suspicious, but then again, this was also the time he started stealing from my mom to feed his gambling addiction, so he was gone pretty quickly.That apartment was perfect! It was pretty inexpensive because we live in Florida, and even though it was a pretty nice standard two bedroom, the previous owner I guess, was very concerned with cleanliness, because it had a huge roomy shower, and beautiful Jacuzzi. We kept a twin bed in the second room that (was mine) for whenever our mom visited, but really we had an awesome king size bed, and got to sleep in it together every night without having to worry about a thing. Generally speaking, in that apartment we did whatever you can imagine and more.In Sarah’s Junior year our mom lost her fight with breast cancer, and now we’re basically all the family we have.Eventually we both graduated, Sarah with a degree in American lit, and me with a degree in music. It’s been 6 years since that first bath together, and now we own a tiny house and live together traveling the country. :) (don’t worry we’re not going to try to have kids)I know incest seems very wrong to many people, and I understand why. But we’re happy and in love, and I don’t care who knows it, because she’s my soulmate.I realize if you’ve read this far you’re probably wondering when I’m gonna answer the initial question so here goes.Yes I did accidentally walk in on my sister naked.We had sex, and now 6 years later we’re life partners, and live together. We often talk about that first time, and it always gives us a good smile.I’m not trying to say everyone who sees their sisters tits all of a sudden has to fall in love with them, I just want to let people know, that not all incest is bad, and that it can actually be a beautiful thing.So please, just make the right choice for you, and know that freedom can be a good thing.