The next morning, Boxing Day, I awoke feeling so horny at the prospect of getting pregnant. I went to the cupboard in the kitchen, where I kept my contraceptive pills. I was due to resume them the next morning, but the devil inside me screamed, ‘flush them down the sink', and in a moment of craziness, it's exactly what I did. I had three weeks' worth left and popped them all out of the packet and into the sink. I watched each one of them swirl down the plug hole.

I hardly finished my routines on the Wednesday when Neville turned up. I had yet to wash or brush my teeth, and I knew full well my bedroom was a mess. But those were secondary concerns compared with the fact I was about to let him try and fertilise my eggs, unbeknown to him of course. I got him to sit with our grandmother whilst I went upstairs to brush my teeth. I was trying to think of something to do with Neville to really excite him. I figured the more aroused he is, the more sperm he would release, and the more sperm he released, the better chance I had of getting pregnant. It dawned on me to wear the Santa costume, this time without bra or knickers. My intention was to pop my head around my grandmother's door and beckon him. I was just about to do that when the front door opened. My heart missed several beats. It was Paul. AWKWARD.... He closed the door behind himself and looked at me like I was insane. "Are you coming to the club this afternoon, dad wants to know?". "Yeah, what time?" ... "About twelve", Paul replied, still looking at me like he would a circus clown, "What are you wearing that for?" he asked. "Don't know really, I just wanted to try it on". Paul studied me and threw a cheeky grin. "Is that all you've got on?". I was so desperate to throw the costume open to show him my naked body, but I fought the temptation. My back was still against the wall, and when it is my mind gets very confused. "Come back later", I muttered. (What I meant to say, and had I been brave enough, was ‘come around later and I'll show you what I have on under this, and then we'll fuck'). "Why?", asked Paul. At that very second Neville came out of my grandmother's room. "Aye-up, Paul", he said cheerily. "Aye-up", Paul replied. "What's that you're wearing?", Neville asked me, adding further to my mental turmoil. "It's just something I wore last Friday". Neville looked typically confused, "So why are you wearing it now?". I was on the back foot and nowhere to go on this one, "Oh for god's sake, I'll go and get changed", I countered and headed upstairs.

I hung around in the costume, waiting for Paul to leave, and when he did, I stepped down the stairs to the bottom step. Neville gazed at me with a bewildered look in his eye, "I thought you was getting changed". I was so ready to be fucked, I dropped the costume, sat on the stairs and opened my legs. Neville glared down at my pussy like a lion eyeballing its prey. It didn't matter to me one zot that he threaded his cock through his flies, or the front door was unlocked, I just wanted his cock deep inside me.

It was by far the most painful fuck I had ever had thus far in my life, with the edge of the steps breaking my back, but I got what I wanted, a pussy full of cum. Neville didn't have time to catch his next breath before I invited him upstairs. I felt I needed to get on my back as soon as possible. I laid on the bed with my knees wide open, wanting to invite him back in. Instead he sat on the edge of the bed, "Who's going to the club?", he asked. This was typical Neville, so I was hardly surprised he came out with something like this, at a time like this. "Probably me, mum, dad, and our Paul", I replied. "Do you think I could come?" ... "If you want", I replied, "It's a free world". For the next few minutes he went on and on about the club, when all I wanted was another load of cumin me. "Are you going to get undressed then?" ... "Yeah, if you want", he replied. I didn't want to get off my back and so I encouraged him to kneel by my face so I could suck his cock. After three minutes or so, he straddled my chest. I felt so restricted but managed to free a hand so I could continue to pay lip service.

The bedroom door was open, and we clearly heard someone open and close the front door. Neville and I froze on the spot and waited anxiously to see how things would unfold. Whoever it was walked through the hallway and into the kitchen before heading back. "May?", a voice shouted. It was Ann, my youngest sister, who then would have been 13 years old. "Yeah", I replied, not daring to move. "Is our Neville here", she shouted. "Just a sec", I replied. I gestured for Neville to get off me and I slipped on my bathrobe. I walked to the upstairs landing and showed my face. I must have had guilt written all over it. Ann looked at me quizzically, "What are you doing up there?" she asked. "Nothing why?". Ann wasn't convinced, "Is he in there with you?" ... "Who?" ... "Our Neville" ... "What will he be doing in here with me?" I hollered. Ann had a grin from ear to ear, "Neville, Neville", she shouted. "He's not here, I told you" ... "Where is he then?" ... "I don't know but he's not here". Ann picked up the Santa costume from the floor, "Is this yours?" ... "Whose else would it be?" ... "Can I have it?" .... "You can borrow it, but I want it back" ... "Thanks", She replied and left the house.

"I didn't think she was going to go", I said to Neville as I went back into the bedroom. "...and she's nicked my Santa costume, I won't see that again" ... "Reckon she'll wear owt under it", Neville asked. I couldn't believe what I just heard, "She's thirteen years old", I barked, albeit with a smile on my face.

I had absolutely no wish to see my 13-year-old sister naked under the costume, flashing her wares, but I was all for humiliating her. Ann was the youngest child and everyone's favourite, but aunts, uncles, and friends, didn't know her the way I did. She was spoilt, spiteful, selfish, and a massive tell-tale. If I had something, I had to share. If she had something, it was all hers. Paul and I often felt the wrath of both mum and dad growing up...but with Ann it was always very tolerant. I suppose hate is a strong word, but I only tolerated her because she was my sister. At 13 she was already as tall as me, and probably had a bigger chest. My other sister, Mary, was often nasty to me also, and often ganged up on me with Ann. Mary was the brain box and had a way bigger chest than me. She would have been 16 then and boasted a 36d. She was the only one of us to attend grammar school. As much as everyone adored Ann, they were proud of Mary. I was the huge let down. For a few seconds I imagined Ann in the costume, stark naked underneath with folk sneering and ridiculing, whist she was crying. It made me feel good but only for a minute.

I got back on the bed and played with Neville until life was brought back to his cock. "Can you go on top?", I said to him. He did as I asked and fucked me until emptying his ball bag in me again. ‘That will make up for any I lost before', I thought to myself. Neville then proceeded to straddle my shoulders again and squeezed out blobs of cum onto my lips.

It was 11:30am and time to get ready for the club. I instructed Neville to get dressed and sit with our grandmother in case anyone came around. I needed a bath, I stunk, and hadn't had one since before the weekend, during my period. I didn't want to wash away any tadpoles that maybe be swimming up my fallopian tube, so I made do with a face splash and deodorant.

I knew the others would call on us on the way to the club, so Neville and I left via the back gate and arrived in the club at 11:50am. It wasn't too busy as New Year's Eve was only a couple of days away and folk would be saving up for then. The club wasn't exactly empty either, Len was in, so was Mick and Bob. Ted, the doorman, was vigilant as ever and asked Neville if he was a member. In those days non-members had to be signed in. I wasn't a member or 18 but they seemed to make an exception for me. I asked Mick to sign Neville in, which he did. Bob was sitting at the opposite side of the club where we usually sit. He was sat with Vin and his mob. I tried to catch his eye as we made our way to our seat but he either didn't see me or was ignoring me.

A few minutes later the rest of my family walked in, including Mary and Ann, who was wearing the Santa costume over a dress. On the odd occasion Middies allowed kids in, Ann always wanted to go. As they passed where Mick, Len, and their cronies were sitting, I heard Mick say to her, "Your sister's got a jacket like that". Len threw me a wretched look.

The relationship I had with Len, over the past 16 months, had changed dramatically. I no longer loved him and struggled to have feelings for him anymore, but I did feel a strange sense of servitude towards him. I suppose it was like the sub-dom association, only rather than having me trussed up like a slave, his control was at mind level. I didn't respect him as I once did, and he was never verbally abusive, but he had a way of letting me know he wasn't happy and making me feel guilty.

The club closed at 3pm. Neville was invited back to my parent's house for a bit of tea but wanted to go home instead. My parents also invited me, but I couldn't bear to be in the same house as my sisters, so I gave it a miss. I had barely taken off my coat when someone knocked at the door. My family would normally just walk in, so I knew it wasn't them. I never bothered locking the door, only at bedtime. It was open house for my family, and they didn't see why they needed a key, other than for emergencies. I opened the door, it was Bob. "You on your own?", Bob asked. My family were still walking down the street, so I ushered Bob in. Without a single word being said, we started to kiss and then made our way to my bedroom. "Are you still on the rag?", Bob crudely asked. I replied I wasn't, much to his delight, and we set about doing the business. We took it in turns to perform oral sex on each other before Bob climbed on top. I opened my legs but once his cock was in, he asked me to shut them. OMG being screwed like that was pure genius on his part, the way his rod compacted its way through my pussy. I had never been screwed like that before...and why the hell not? It wasn't long before Bob cum, and after he did, he laid on his side, kissing me while simultaneously rubbing hard on my clitoris. I soon cum. It wasn't the greatest sex I ever had, maybe because it was so spontaneous and I never had the warming up period, but it was one of the most pleasant.

Bob and I had a cigarette and chatted for a while. He wanted to know more about me and who I had been with. He got me to disclose information I didn't want to. I told him everything. He suspected I was sleeping with Len and said quite a few in the club thought I was. When I told him about Neville, he was very excited by it and even asked if I had slept with my brother Paul. He tried to make me say I had, but I assured him I hadn't. He then wanted to know if I still had my school uniform. It made me giggle, the perversities of men and their fantasies were new to me.

I wasn't sure if I did have my old school uniform. I never had to wear one for the last two years of school, but my mum was never one to throw things away, she would sooner hand it down to Ann or give it away.

I got a diary/notebook for Christmas from my other grandmother in Nottingham. After previously writing down the names of the guys I had sex with, I had every intention of transferring the notes to the diary, and so I started to chart my sex life (I know, very sad indeed). I retrieved my diaries from my mother's house, in the loft, two years ago after she passed away. I didn't want anyone to see them of course, so before shredding them I photographed each page with my camera phone. There were seven diaries, so it took a while to do. I did have every intention of posting pages on here but after seeing the first two pages and all the redactions I had to do, I don't think I will.

It was gone 6pm and I was still in bed reading a book. I had two lots of cum fermenting inside me now and didn't want to disturb them. The door went. This time it was Paul who called from the downstairs landing. I braved going down the stairs in my bathrobe, aware, if he looked hard enough, he could see right up it. I remained on the bottom step making me a couple of inches taller than him. "What did you want me for?", Paul asked. "What do you mean?", I replied. "You told me to come back later". The penny dropped, "Oh yeah, you wanted to know if I had anything on under my Santa outfit". Paul smiled, "Is that it, I thought it was something important" ... "Don't you want to know then?". Paul shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "Not really". His snub hit me hard. He waited for me to say something, but words wouldn't come out. "Is that it then?" ... "Yeah" ... "Why, what would you have done if said yes" ... "I was going to open it up for a joke" ... "Why" ... "Because I didn't have anything on underneath". Paul looked at me gobsmacked, "I'm your brother, that's just weird" ... "It was just a joke", I said, trying to redeem myself. Paul sneered, "I saw enough in the club the other night" ... "But you never saw it all", and with that I pulled the chord to my bathrobe and opened it up". Paul was flabbergasted, "What you done that for?" ... "You can touch me if you want". Paul was still in a state of shock. He never posed any resistance when I took hold of his hand. I could see how nervous he was, but then so was I. I opened my legs slightly, placed his hand between them, and pressed. He started to weave his fingers into my pussy. I let go of his hand and put both of mine on his shoulders. My heart was fluttering like a butterfly on amphetamines. He wrestled with my pussy like a complete novice, which of course he was. In my head I was thinking where to go next and imagined I'd soon be riding him. I was about to get into my stride, close my eyes, and visit my happy world, when he suddenly withdrew. "What's up?", I asked. "Nothing", he replied, holding his hand away from his body. "Why have you stopped?" I pleaded. Paul totally rebuffed me and went to the kitchen to wash his hands. My bathrobe was still open when I followed him, "You can't do that", I said trying to force a smile. Paul remained silent and threw me a smile before exiting the kitchen and out of the house. I was left feeling totally distraught, almost in tears.