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I do not hate my stepfather. This is not one of those creepy [censored] stories. It's not that normal. My name is Samantha. I am a sophomore at the University of New Hampshire, ex-cheerleader and small town girl. I am (and was) 5'5", 116lbs, 34b, firm body...OK a great body. You don't perform the type of drills I did without working out a lot. We used to joke that we were in better condition that the football team. This all happened when I was eighteen, my last year at high school. Elizabeth, my best friend told me about this web site. That it was a good place to tell my story. Elizabeth thought since I am now really into writing I should put down what happened, and then put it behind me. Start over. Elizabeth is the only person who knows...that is outside a small circle of men. But I don't know these men, really. So let me re-state. Elizabeth is the only person that I have told this to. My friend Elizabeth. The campus beauty, occasional bar slut, pre-law, jet black hair, legs up to her eye brows, cool hazel eyes, and a beautiful smile. She thinks she knows he whole story, but she doesn't.

It is spring in 1998. I am eighteen, and I have just been accepted to UNH. I live in a small town on Lake Winnipesaukee. My dad passed before I knew him, and when I was ten, my mom re-married Herman. He's a good looking guy, very charming, and well liked around town. He manages a marina on the lake in the summer, and during the winter he is foreman of a crew that maintains many of the houses on the islands on the lake. Herman and I have always had a cool relationship. We were polite to each other, but there was always a distance there. My mother is a ...

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