Comforted by my sister

I was the ‘afterthought’ of our family – a boy born to my mum 12 years after the youngest of her two girls. By the time I started school Liz, my eldest sister, had already moved out but her younger sibling, Yvonne, was still in living in the family home.

Yvonne was by this time in the lower sixth at school. She had developed into a very mature girl in many ways. She was sensible and dependable, enough to be put in charge of babysitting me on many occasions. And also physically. Even at 17, she had a womanly bearing about her, including a pair of generous breasts.

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