Anita’s Sexual Adventures

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Preface: I met Sunny in Rome, Georgia when I went up there to have a drink with Stacy. My friendship with Stacy didn’t end when I left her temp agency. After spending some time with her and Stacy and gaining each others trust and confidence I mentioned I was a story writer of sorts. When pressed for details I confessed I wrote somewhat semi-true erotic stories. Sunny read my stories and liked them. She requested I write her story in my style. Over the course of time she related her story and her thoughts to me. I attempted to keep some of her country style of talking, while at the same time, not have it too cumbersome for the reader to wade through and understand. For instance I wrote “ate” instead of “et” and used “us” for “we-uns.” Sunny is a very bright and pretty girl. She has approved of this final version, being “factual enough” and we changed a name or two for the legal department.

All characters in this story are over the age of 18.

If you are interested in reading the rest of this story or more of Tammy Trueheart, contact me directly.




Chapter 1: Introduction

As you enter the state of South Carolina along the I-95 corridor you will see billboards for discount fireworks, cigarettes and adult material in the heart of the Bible Belt. We don’t actually use any of that evil stuff, if you believe Pastor Case. It is all for those heathen Yankees passing through on their way to Florida. I have a less hypocritical story to tell.

Growing up in South Carolina wasn’t as tough as my story may seem. The idea is to keep a positive outlook on life and to be cheery. I don’t mean “spokes model” kind of cheery, just a natural good disposition. If life deals you lemons, add one cup to three cups of water and create a blonde highlight rinse. Perhaps that is how I got the nickname “Sunny.” Or course any nickname is better than my real one: Anita Biggerstaff.

Yes, I was born not only with a gag name, but one that could be used by a porn star. Pa comes from a long line of Biggerstaffs and Anita comes from my Ma’s side. She was a Reynolds from Edgefield County. She claims we are related to Strom Thurmond. Of course everyone from Edgefield County makes that claim, even the black people. Her Ma was named Anita although we just knew her as “Me-maw.” So I was named for my grandmother who was older than dirt and then died “suddenly and unexpectantly” a few years back at the age of 97.

I grew up with my two brothers. Steven was a few years older than me and William was my Irish twin with me being the older of the “twin.” William was considered a junior because Pa was a “William” although they did not share the same middle name. My brother preferred to be called “Billy.” Billy’s son would also be named “William” and he too would be known as “junior” and of course he would also have a different middle name. Don’t ask me to explain it. I just live here.

We originally lived in Edgefield until my brothers figured out an easy way to catch catfish. They would take fire crackers, M-80s and seal them in a can, light them, and toss them in the fishing hole. The explosion would stun the fish and bring them to the surface. They decided one day to get a whole bunch of fish. I went with them and watched Steven and Billy tie together four sticks of dynamite together. They knew how to work blasting caps, or at least they thought by watching Pa blowing up stumps. We were going to have a mess o’ catfish for supper. They tossed the sticks in their favorite hole by the damn and we took off running. Well nothing happened. Billy was telling Steven if his brains were dynamite he couldn’t blow his nose. We went back and stood there on the banks of the lake and then. BANG! We got hit by a wall of water which must have blown as back twenty feet. The dam had broken and we started running back to the farmhouse, as scared as rabbits. As we were running back to the farmhouse, Pa was running toward us. It wasn’t a gold star moment for any of us kids. Pa looked like a windmill with his arms flying all over the place as my brother’s bottoms got tore up. Being a girl, I was innocent. Shortly after that episode I remembered moving to Spartanburg. My Pa did spank me once as a child. In Edgefield County you can’t throw a stone without hitting a church. I know because one Sunday morning me and Billy tried. That was one whoppin’ I never forgot.

Pa was a construction worker and fancied himself a builder of sorts. He was as country as cornflakes and grew up poor. He told us his family was so poor they would have to borrow money to buy water to cry with. Ma just drank a lot and fancied herself a lot of things, mostly when she was passed out. Pa decided to build our second home from scratch; apparently those available in the Spartanburg area just weren’t good enough. He secured a lot. It was the one in Spartanburg that had a slope to it. It was cheaper than the flat lots. For a long time I believed I was the only kid in South Carolina with a hill for a back yard. Pa built our home from “left over” and “broken” pieces from his construction projects. It is one thing to use the cornerstone istanbul escort rejected by the builder, but to build your whole house that way is another.

Pa bought a small trailer for us to live in while our house was being constructed. There were two problems with this idea that grated more on others than myself. The first problem was the space. This sorry trailer had only two bedrooms. Ma and Pa slept in the living room/dining room/bedroom/kitchen while I shared a room with my two brothers. It was during this time period when a girl was supposed to develop modesty, I lost of mine. There were only two small beds in that room and neither one of us wanted to sleep in the same bed with Steven. Steven snored, farted, and God knows what else he would do under those covers. I slept in the same bed with my brother Billy. We never did anything really sexual during this time, although we grew very close.

Steven’s room was the first room completed. Once he moved out, Billy and I had our own separate beds, although sometimes we would end up in the same one, especially if I had seen a scary movie that night. Billy would make me feel safe.

Growing up we never locked bathroom doors. We only had one bathroom for the longest time, so someone could shower while someone shaved and someone used another piece of porcelain.

Eventually, to the dismay of my brothers, I would lock the door a few days a month. They would beat on the door and yell at me to unlock it. I once forgot to lock the door when Steven walked and discovered why the door was locked once a month. Steven had a look of disgust as he said, “Sunny, why don’t you lock the door when you have to do that?” From that point onward I could lock the bathroom door a few days a month.

Eventually everyone left the trailer leaving me to have the “run of it.” This brought us to the second problem. Pa had a small lot. He built the house around the trailer-not a small feat in itself. The trailer was located in our spacious living room. Ma wanted the trailer taken apart and removed from her living room. Pa imagined us traveling cross country in this sorry ass thing and wanted to get it out in one piece, which would mean a wall would have to come down somewhere.

My bedroom window had trailers blinds on it. I could look out and have a magnificent panoramic view of our living room. At night time I could “spy” on my family’s activities in the living room. It was during one of my late night spy sessions that I saw Ma’s head go onto Mr. Biggerstaff’s lap. I was shocked and had to watch. When I saw my Pa’s head turn my way, I quickly let the blind go down. My heart raced. Did he see me? The next day when I came home from school, the trailer was gone and I slept in Billy’s room until my room was finished. We were never allowed to discuss the trailer again. Sometimes I wonder if it every really existed or just an implanted memory from some Satanic force at Fleetwood.

Ma was also the one who but an end to my wrastlin’ sessions with Billy when I got breasts. It seems all Billy really wanted to do was cop feels. He really didn’t want to do any real fightin’ and such.

Ma had pulled me and Billy out of school. It seems we were getting a little unruly and Ma blamed the school, so we home-schooled for a year. During this time Ma spent most of the time she should have been teaching by drinking, going out to buy liquor, getting drunk, and passing out. At the end of the year when it was time for me and Billy to take our exams to progress to the next grade, we failed miserably. Ma of course blamed us and that defective Biggerstaff DNA for our failure. We went back to public school the next year, having to repeat a grade. We were now the oldest kids in the class, except for some kids who were dumber than rocks. We turned 18 in our junior class.

Billy and I were hellions away from home as older teens. Steve would drive us around in his Mustang while I would sit in Billy’s lap (he was a real Biggerstaff) and flash truckers by lifting up my shirt. I had blossomed into a “righteous looking babe” as my brother would tease. Billy would say I was as “purty as speckled pup.” My hair was naturally summer blonde, although I believe it was every color of the rainbow at one time or another. My breasts had developed nicely and at my young age, a bra was an option even with a solid “B” sometimes “C” cup depending on the manufacturer. I loved to dance, so my legs took on a muscular shape, although not to the point of looking like a body builder. My waist was thin. Well as thin as it was going to get. You couldn’t count ribs by looking at me, but then you couldn’t pinch more than an inch either. My brothers loved to take me out flashing. I was proud of those puppies.

The flashing episodes became hog wild. Billy got a little bolder and would “help me” flash by either lifting up my shirt or reaching around and holding my breasts up for the truckers to see. After a few times with Billy helping me, I become comfortable with the idea. Then Steven decided he could help too. I felt uncomfortable at first with Steven’s touch. However, I didn’t get the ataköy escort nickname “Sunny” for nothing. I grew to like my brothers’ new found attention of me.

Billy started to play that immature game of pretending to bump into me to cop a feel. I was his sister. I told him to “Stop knocking me around. If you want to feel my tits, just ask when no one is around.” We were both adults. Billy became a little shyer after that. He asked me to flash him a couple of times at home, normally before bed time, but the feeling up had almost stopped except for our occasional weekend trip down I-85.

About this time a hole appeared in our connecting closets. It was so huge! I was so afraid Ma would find it while cleaning or…no wait. Never mind. I was talking about my Ma. She never came in our rooms. Billy could spy on his sister anytime he liked. It was during this era I learned to do little sexy dances, strip teases, and “tent poses” knowing Billy was watching me. After I gave him a good show, I would turn out my light and play opossum. Then I would watch Billy through the same hole. My brother had a huge cock. He would use lotion and rub himself to orgasm. Watching him cum made me horny. I would break out my long silver vibrator, “Silver Surfer” I named it, and would bring myself off thinking about my brother’s immense cock.

Growing up around Biggerstaffs gave me a warped sense of the world of men as I believed all cocks were at least 9 inches long. My disappointment would come later. I had thought all my boyfriends were deformed, or hadn’t developed. I learned differently one day at school when my brother called me over to the boy’s locker room door. There was a group of boys standing outside the door. Being naïve, I didn’t think anything about it until one of them pushed me through the locker room door. I tried to get out right away, but they held the door shut on me. I turned around to see a bunch of wet naked boys. Inadvertently I stared at their dicks, or whatever that was between their legs. It was at that moment I realized my family was something special. Most of the guys, when they saw me, covered themselves up, but a few boys approached me with their dicks swinging. I beat on the door and yelled “Let me out!” I pushed hard on the door and nearly fell on the floor as the door flew open and I spilt out. There was no one standing by it. Everyone was standing down the hall, watching and laughing as I ran scared like a scald dog. That night Billy didn’t get a show, but I soon got over it and now laugh when I think about the incident.

A few days later the “show” went on-big time. While in school I was being pushed around by a group of boys. I was in the middle and as the pushed me back and forth, they would cop a feel. Billy came to my rescue and stopped them. That night I did something special. I turned up the lights nice and bright in my room and made sure I didn’t have any hanging closet clothing obstructing his spy hole.

I put some music on, hillbilly rock-which is Billy’s favorite. I danced around the room, strutting my stuff like a proud peacock, never straying far from the view of the closet fissure. I removed my blouse first and paraded around in my bra. I sat on the bed facing my brother’s eye with my legs open so he could see up my skirt. I leaned back on the bed, unhooked my bra and sat back up- topless exposing my boobs to Billy.

I pretended I wanted something on floor in the closet, directly under the peep hole. I walked forward topless with my tits moving at the hole. I knew Billy was watching, because I heard him fall backwards at that moment. I tried not to laugh- really I did. I heard him scramble back to his position. I couldn’t believe the noise this guy was making. He could never be a serious peeping Tom.

I whipped the skirt off in front of the closet and danced around in my panties, with my thumbs inside the elastic band teasing him as if I was going to take them off. The panties came off and I kicked them at the closet hole exposing more red meat than a butcher’s window. They fell short of hitting the hole, but by now Billy had to at least suspect I knew he was watching me. At least I had hoped he wasn’t that thick.

I lay spread legged on the bed, giving my brother a clear view at my pussy, womb and tonsils for that matter. I broke out Silver Surfer, something I have never done for Billy before. With a slight twist, my little helper was humming away. I surfed all over my pussy, before working it in and out. I was thinking of my brother’s big cock in his hand, stroking himself, as he watched “little sister” get off.

I worked my silver bullet until I gushed all over the sheets. I bit my Gamecock pillow to avoid screaming. It already had a few teeth marks. In fact I noticed I needed to sew up some stitching that had come loose. One of the great things about living in South Carolina was I could proclaim I was a Cock fan in mixed company. I shouted into my pillow as my pussy juiced. I thought Billy would be getting off right about now, but I went on to masturbate myself to a few more orgasms, just in case.

The avcılar escort next day was Saturday. Pa was working overtime building the Wal-Mart. Ma was over at the Stolzfus resident. Billy was dating their daughter Felicia, who was also as purty as a speckled pup. They were Yankees, but real good people regardless. Ma would go over there from time to time during her sober moments to gab. I assumed Billy was over there too taking a dip in their pool.

I walked out from my morning shower into the living room wearing a bath robe, drying my hair with a towel. Steven was sitting there switching channels on TV. At this point in time I didn’t know what Steven did for money. He didn’t have a job, except fetching building material for Pa when he needed it. He would go out at night and sometimes during the day, but never to work. I know Pa wasn’t paying for his car. Anyway, Steven looked at me and said, “That was quite a show you put on last night.”

I was flabbergasted. Did Billy tell? I pretended to be stupid, well at least dumber than usual. “I have no idea what you mean.” I kept drying my hair with my head down pretending not to care.

“Do you think Billy is the only one who resides in his closet?” Steven continued.

I caught my breath and said nothing. The joke was on me. I should have known or at least suspected Steven was involved too. Oh well, what is done is done. “So” I said. Okay Steven saw me naked-no big deal.

About that time Billy showed up. He was still in his room. He hadn’t left. “Hey! It’s Gypsy Rose Lee.” He said as he came into the room.

“Please don’t call me that in front of other people.” I asked.

“Oh we won’t,” Steven said nonchalantly, “just do your dance for us again.”

Other girls might have been offended by this as a crude blackmail attempt by their brothers, but I really wanted to tease, arouse, and dance for my wonderful brothers. But I had some reservations. “What if our parents caught us?”

“No chance Sunny,” Billy said. “Pa will be at work until supper and Mom is helping Sarah at the church. They will be staying there at least through lunch, since mom took a plate for “pot luck.”

My eyes grew big with anticipated excitement. The taboo aspect of dancing naked for my two brothers was too much temptation for me to overcome. Especially after last night, I was becoming an exhibitionist addict. “Okay, take you seats, I’ll be right back.”

I went to my room and tossed off my robe as I looked for the appropriate clothing to put on so I could take them off. I opted to make this simple. A blouse tied at the waist, no bra and a pair of Daisy Duke Shorts with my butt cheeks jutting out. I had made these to wear out in public, but had cut them too short even for me to wear in public, so I saved them for some unknown reason. Now I was glad I did.

The guys whistled at me, their own sister, as I entered the room. I smiled, blushed, and took a bow. Billy found some dance music on the radio. We were normally not a disco family, but it seems at time the music was not only tolerable, but preferred to hillbilly rock.

I danced and swayed my hips for the guys. I shook my butt in their faces, which they enjoyed. I had my hands on the knot that held my blouse together. I gave it a slow undoing as the boys watched, mesmerized by my moves. I fumbled with the knot, “Let’s see. How does this go? The bunny goes around the tree and into the hole…”

While I was attempting to undo the knot, Billy asked me a question, “Hey Sunny which weighs more: an ounce of gold or an ounce of feathers?” Billy smiled and nudged Steven.

I answered, “Why an ounce of gold weighs more.”

Billy and Steven laughed at me. Apparently I had gotten the answer wrong, but I didn’t know why. I continued with that dratted knot.

The guys showed patience as the knot became freed, at last, and my blouse hung open, exposing my bare tummy and some cleavage. A few more dance steps and the blouse slipped off my shoulders exposing my breasts to my brothers. I took a quick glance out the window at the driveway. I must have appeared as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I still wasn’t comfortable with the setting. My brothers placed both their hands in the air and wiggled their fingers as if they wanted to grab a pair of something. It was so cute to watch them practically begging for me.

I satisfied my brothers’ air grasping hands by filling them with a nice set of firm titties. I let my brothers feel my boobs until the pantomime hands returned to their sides or laps as the case may be. I unsnapped the shorts and pulled the zipper down. There was some bush poking out from above the zipper. My brothers’ eyes fell from my chest to my bush as I played with the zipper and danced with my hands on my hips, shaking my top and bottom. With my fingers inside the opened waist, I lowered my Dukes to the floor, standing totally naked in front of my brothers. I danced nude as they again extended their pantomime hands, rubbing their thumb against their fingers as if they wanted to feel something about crotch level. I wonder what that could that be? I jokingly thought. I decided to find out by prancing naked by each of my brothers. As it turned out they just wanted to touch and pet a little furry pussy. That’s all. I see no harm in that. After all they are my brothers. Who would they tell?

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