My Unconventional Life
by Lubrican
Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
Chapter Six
It didn't go very well. Mom took us to the doctor and got us a
prescription for the pill. Neither of us was used to taking
medicine on a regular basis, and I forgot to take my pills about half
the time. Mom checked my packet and saw the extra pills and
yelled at me about it. After that, when I forgot to take one, I
just flushed it down the toilet so she wouldn't yell at me.
Shannon did the same thing, except she was better about remembering to
take hers.
It didn't matter, though, because neither of us was having sex. Neither of us even wanted
to have sex at that point. Not even with Brinn, really. We
had gotten used to girl on girl kinds of stuff a long time past.
I didn't detail all that for you before this, because it seemed like it
would just lengthen things. But now it becomes important, because
it really affected the way we lived through that time that wasn't happy.
We had talked about stuff, of course. You might remember that
Shannon wanted for us to masturbate each other, and the term "lesbian"
had come up. When we were both so happy to treat Brinn's penis
like an all day sucker, I think that relieved our fears that any
inclination to have fun with a same-gender sibling would result in a
problem. At that point in our lives we had thought that it might
be possible to "catch" homosexuality by engaging in same sex ...
sex. But our interest in Brinn's penis on an up close and
personal basis (as well as our interest in Uncle Bob's penis from a
distance) convinced us both that there was no danger we'd turn into
flaming dykes or something like that.
So, during one particularly passionate evening when we were trading off
licking and sucking Brinn's erection, we kissed. And then, when
he came, and we tried to each get some of his yummy man-milk in our
mouths, we kissed again, rubbing his slippery spend around. It
seemed completely normal to lick each other's lips, which turned into a
French kiss that also seemed like it should be an everyday
occurrence. It wasn't - an everyday thing, I mean - but we were
both delighted about finding this new way of expressing our love for
each other. And, over time, those kisses made it seem kind of
silly that we didn't touch each other in other ways. Brinn was an
expert at getting us off, but no man could ever understand how to push
a woman's buttons as well as a woman can.
So when Brinn went away and our bed suddenly seemed like it was about
an acre big, we didn't suffer nearly as much as Brinn did, who had to
go back to using his own hand.
And that's why it didn't go well.
Brinn was frantic, at first. We'd never been separated. We'd always slept in the same bed. It must have been like the first time he left home, and he got homesick, and it was like he could see home, but he couldn't go
home. And I think Mom wasn't sure we were telling the truth about
not having had sex, because she watched us all like a hawk. She
invented reasons to be around us. Where before, she and Uncle Bob
might have gone into the bedroom for some morning or afternoon delight,
now she followed us around, asking what we were doing and if she could
help or something. It didn't help that we tried to help Brinn
out, but every time we tried to do something with him, we'd get caught,
and things just got worse and worse.
Brinn got surly. Then, when school started back up, he got in a
fight the first day. While he was suspended he took the horse and
went for a ride all the way to town, and got caught shoplifting.
Mom blamed it on Uncle Bob. And she blamed it on nudism.
They stopped touching each other, or cuddling. There was no other
bedroom for them to sleep in, but none of the sounds we were so used to
hearing came from there any more. They even left the bedroom door
open at night.
It didn't make any sense, and everybody knew it. Brinn didn't
know why he had all these ugly feelings, but it was obvious to
me. It was true that Uncle Bob was the one who had slowly
awakened in Shannon and me the desire to be intimate with a man.
And it was true that, before living with Uncle Bob, we had all worn
pajamas to bed. But you can try teaching quantum physics to a
five-year-old all day long, and not much is going to happen, because a
five-year-old's brain isn't quite ready for quantum physics. And
what had developed between Brinn and us hadn't been taught to us by
Uncle Bob. Maybe he helped a little, but he didn't teach us to do that. And I won't even mention that Mom encouraged him to do some of that.
Us getting interested in sex would have happened anyway.
Everybody knew that. Every other kid in the whole world had
gotten interested in sex, and had tried it, and the vast majority of
them had ended up having as much of it as they could. We were no
different. The only difference was that our mother got to see a
whole lot more of our introduction to things sexual than most mothers
do.
And there were no problems until she tried to interrupt that natural
flow of exploration, experimentation, and ... well ... happiness.
What happened was that she lost faith in her own philosophy, and she
tried to undo everything. Or at least stop it in its tracks.
And that didn't go well for Brinn.
He didn't get in any more fights, and he didn't get kicked out of
school again, but by Christmas break, when grade reports came out, he
was failing in three classes and his only other grades were a D and two
Cs. He'd always been a straight A student. All of us
had. I think it was that grade report that finally got through to
Mom. She looked at it and finally realized something
horrible had happened.
They spent an hour in his bedroom alone. I don't know what was
said. Neither of them has ever been willing to talk about
that. And I don't think it's because of what was actually
said. I think it's because, when they came out of that bedroom,
the bad time was over. Brinn was crying, but the first thing he
did was come hug me, and then he dragged me to Shannon, whose mouth was
hanging open. She looked scared, like she thought this meant he
was leaving for military school. Did I forget that that was
something Mom threatened him with at one point? I guess I
forgot. But he scooped her into the hug and said, "I get to come
back."
And he did. He moved his clothes back into our bedroom, and he slept with us that night, and every night after that.
You want to know something weird? That first night he was
back, there was no sex. We just held each other. Well ...
there was some kissing. I kissed him and Shannon. She
kissed him and me. He kissed us both and kept hugging us.
But we didn't touch his penis, even though it was rock hard, and he
didn't touch our pussies, even though they were weeping steadily.
And we didn't touch our own. It was just a night for hugging, I
guess.
I think part of that was because it was quiet enough for us to hear Mom
crying, and Uncle Bob telling her everything would be fine, and that he
loved her. It was very dim, but we were being very
quiet. And then, after what seemed like a long time, we heard the
noises that told us they were back to normal ... and that their bedroom
door was closed again.
Brinn's grades came back up. He smiled again. Oddly, we
weren't as desperate to engage in the kind of behavior that had so
consumed us before the blow-up. Maybe that was because we knew
how precious it was, to be able to lovingly suck his penis, or kiss
each other with spermy lips. We didn't take it for granted any
more that he would always be there, or that we could have a
Brinn-induced orgasm any time we felt like it. And because that
was so special, it was a little like we were afraid we could use it all
up, somehow. I don't know. We didn't actually think much
about it back then. We were just so glad to have him back that we
were happy just being able to press our naked bodies against his.
Mom still worried. We could tell. She looked haggard, and
there were circles under her eyes. But that only lasted for a
couple of weeks, until she finally figured out that her change of mind
hadn't resulted in any horrible disaster.
There were, however, some lasting effects. They are sad, in some
ways, but as with every cloud, there developed what I like to think of
as a silver lining. Of course I have to tell you about the cloud
first.
I have also never talked with Mom about this period of her life.
At least not in detail. All she's ever said about it was that she
was a fool, and that she didn't trust herself, which caused her to make
some stupid decisions. Personally, I think she looked at
the three of us and tried to imagine our future. And that caused
her to try to imagine her own future. And, because she couldn't
marry Uncle Bob, she decided she didn't have a future with Uncle
Bob. You'd think that, after seeing what it did to Brinn to be
separated from us, she'd tumble to the idea that she might be unhappy
being separated from her brother. She had been separated from him before, while he was in college.
But adults are stubborn, sometimes. And she was an adult.
So what she did was go looking for a job, because she assumed she
couldn't live with Uncle Bob forever. She told him she was taking
up the space that his life mate should be taking up, which sounded good
on paper, except that nobody believed it. Especially not us
kids. But she got a job as an executive assistant to a guy
named Chuck, who was a private detective. And he was a nice
enough guy, I suppose. He had a wide smile, and he was
friendly. He kept saying there was no way Mom had had us three
"grown up" kids, what with the killer figure she still had and
all. He was actually the only adult male other than Uncle
Bob who we had any contact with, outside of school. We knew men from their involvement in extra curricular activities, but they were mostly from school too, and we never spent much time talking to them.
So it wasn't odd that we didn't suspect him of having any ulterior
motives. There was something about his eyes I didn't like, but I
figured that was because he kept using them to look at Shannon and me
like we were fine chocolate, and he was starving. He complimented
us a lot too.
But Mom kept sleeping with Uncle Bob, so everything still seemed normal.
Chuck came to our sixteenth birthday party, which was okay. We
wore clothes to school and whenever we went shopping, of course, so
when he got invited it just became a clothing not optional situation.
Then Chuck started having her go on stakeouts with him. He said
it was to make it look like they were a couple, rather than him sitting
alone in a car, watching somebody. He said people don't pay any
attention to a couple, sitting in a car, or a booth or whatever.
And sometimes he'd leave her in the car to go do what he called "a
sweep," which was to make sure "everything was okay." And then
one time he said she needed to pose as a hooker at a convention, where
he was supposed to do surveillance on some guy who was attending the
convention and who was going to cheat on his wife. The idea was
that Chuck befriended this guy and while sitting at the bar, my mom was
supposed to come up and proposition Chuck. So he accepted, and
then, of course they had to find a date for his new friend, which they
did by going outside, where there were apparently hookers
everywhere. And Chuck said they could use his room, because he
had a double, and he was able to get video of the guy fucking a hooker.
Of course he had to get my mother in bed too ... to make it look real.
I know this sounds crazy. I mean my mom was smarter than
that. But Chuck told her not to share much with anybody,
including her kids and the brother she was living with, and she
actually thought she was working for a private detective. He had
an office and everything, and he had files and she saw them. And
she saw clients. And Chuck was a people person, with the gift of
gab. And he complimented her and bought her things. And she
bought it all because Chuck was a con man, and he conned her.
You see, Chuck had come up with what he thought of as the ultimate
con. He was, in fact, an ex cop. So he knew the
streets. And he got his license and he actually did
do some private investigator type work. But that was his cover
for how he really made his money. And the way he really made his
money was as a drug pusher. He had access to all the low-lifes,
and spent lots of time with them. Wouldn't any private eye?
And he went to conventions to do surveillance on guys who were away
from home, like any private eye would. But what he was really
there for was to sell them "recreational aids" as he called them.
And while his reason for hiring my mother was to get into her panties,
I think he really did fall in love with her. She's an easy woman
to love. And, of course, she's really pretty.
Anyway, it got worse. She did sleep with him that night, because
she really thought there was something developing there in terms of an
honest romance. She'd been working for him for six months by
then, and to "celebrate" successful jobs, he'd taken her out to dinner
a bunch of times. And of course he'd treated those like dates,
but had been the consummate gentleman and all that. He was a con
man, after all, and he was trying to sell her on himself. And he
did, and that's why she slept with him at that convention.
And of course he convinced her that he'd fallen madly in love with her
"accidentally" while he was boffing her socks off, in the bed next to
some guy who was boffing a hooker, and while he was filming that
guy. He actually sold that footage to a porn site, by the
way. That's what kind of scumbag Chuck was.
So he kept sleeping with her and I think maybe that's when he fell in
love with her, because he asked her to marry him, and that had nothing
to do with his con. He didn't need a wife. He needed a hot
looking girlfriend to divert attention from him while he sold drugs.
But she married him, thinking she was moving on with her life.
She also thought she was letting her brother move on with his
life. And do you know what I think? Remember that bullshit
they used to tell us about "practicing to make babies" so that if Uncle
Bob got married he could make a baby with his wife? I think she
sublimated that idea, and came to believe it herself, in an odd sort of
way. I mean everybody knows that incest is wrong and bad and all
that stuff, and she was neck deep in incest, so maybe that was how she
coped with that. Personally, I think all that "incest is
wrong" crap is just that - crap. But that's not an argument
for now. The point is that my mom bought Chuck's con and married
him.
There was one, tiny little rub. Chuck had all manner of use for a
hot, soft, sexy woman in his life. He did not, however, need three
teenagers underfoot. Nor did he have three extra
bedrooms for us in his two bedroom penthouse apartment. Think
it's odd that my mother didn't wonder how he could afford a two bedroom
penthouse apartment? So do I.
He was too good a con man to just say, "Let's dump the rug rats, sweet
thing." Instead he spun dreams of building a house where we could
all live ... eventually. We would all be together again ...
eventually. He just needed time to get everything in
order. I think his plan was to procrastinate, or maybe have
"financial problems" until we all turned eighteen. Then he'd be
able to say, "I tried," and sigh and all that, but it would be too
late, so "the plan" could change.
What he (and Mom) didn't know was that us kids didn't want to live with
this guy anyway. We didn't know him. He wasn't a nudist.
Our whole lives would change radically if we lived with him. And
while the thought of her going away was a horrible, black kind of hole
we couldn't really see into, at least we'd still have Uncle Bob.
Anyway, it was decided (with copious help from us) that us kids needed
to keep living with Uncle Bob, so we could keep going to the same
school. It should be noted that one sign of Mom's desperate
attempt to find a "normal" life was that she ignored the fact there was
only one school we could go to, and that it wouldn't have mattered where we lived, as long as it was still in that area.
In truth, I don't think Chuck had to work too hard to con my
mother. I think she wanted to be conned. She got to a point
where the life she was leading ... the life we were all leading
... was just too abnormal for her to cope with. And I think she
had always felt responsible herself, for the things she had blamed on
Uncle Bob, back when Brinn was banned from our bedroom. So she
couldn't take us with her to her new life. Chuck would never
understand. And leaving us with Uncle Bob wasn't a terrible
thing. He loved us. He'd take care of us.
So that's what she did.
Now, I know this sounds very sad. It was
sad, but not nearly as sad as I have just painted it. Remember
that, at that point, we didn't know Chuck was an asshole con man and
drug dealer. And Mom really thought this guy loved her. And
she really thought she could learn to love him. She was attracted
to him already, and she thought that attraction would lead to
love. Also remember that she hadn't been in love with anybody
except her brother. And she had always loved him. So, in a very real sense, she didn't know what falling in love was like.
So yes, it was sad that Mom was going to move out and get
married. And yes, we talked about how crazy it was that she was
willing to separate herself from her brother. But Uncle Bob was
putting a brave face on everything, and supporting her in her
decisions. Because we didn't look at our triplet arrangement as
being wrong (in any way whatsoever) it didn't occur to us that both
adults might feel guilty about what they'd done for years.
Let this be a lesson for you. When you begin to doubt yourself ... things can go in the toilet pretty quickly.
So Mom got married, and we kids were in the ceremony. Shannon and
I were her maidens of honor and Brinn gave her away. Uncle Bob
stood off to one side while the judge said all the words that
manufactured a step-father for us in the space of a few minutes.
We all went out for dinner, and then Uncle Bob took us home while mom
went with Chuck.
That was another night that the three of us just hugged each other all night, without doing anything sexual.
You'll never guess how Mom found out about Chuck. Never in a million years.
She washed his pants, and washed a thousand dollars of cocaine down the drain in the process.
It never occurred to Chuck that his wife would do domestic things, like
washing his clothes. And the night before, he'd gone to make a
deal on some cocaine, but the guy hadn't had all the money and had
tried to make the buy with a "down payment." Chuck had walked,
and had left the drugs in his pocket when he dropped his pants, most
likely to climb on top of my mother and play hide the sausage.
And the next day he slept late, which was his habit.
And Mom picked up his pants and took the wallet out one pocket, and his
keys out of another, but didn't feel a thousand dollars worth of soft
cocaine in another pocket.
And when he woke up and his pants were gone, and he found out what had happened to them, he flipped out.
Of course he said he'd gotten the coke to "spice up their sex life," rather than admitting he was a fucking dope dealer.
And that was the thing that finally penetrated Mom's befogged
brain. Because, without going into excruciating (and nauseating)
detail, she was pretty sure her sex life with Chuck didn't need any
"spicing up." They'd only been married for two weeks.
Once she had torn the veil from her eyes, she began to notice other
things about Chuck that didn't ring true. And, bless her heart,
once she figured out something was wrong, she used actual detective
skills to get the information she needed to know what was really going
on. Eventually, she found Chuck's stash. She already knew
his frequent contacts.
And she gave it all to the cops on a silver platter.
Which might be why the same judge that married her off, decided to annul the marriage.
It would be lovely, here, to say, "The nightmare was over, and Mom moved back in with us." But life isn't quite that easy.
She slept on the couch. She also got a full panel of tests for
every known STD. She wouldn't let Uncle Bob touch her. She
wouldn't even kiss him. She hugged us kids, but she was a
wreck. She cried all the time, but wouldn't talk about it.
She still won't, though the really dark days are gone now.
But while Chuck may not have gotten my mother's money, or her life
savings or any of the things con men usually go after ... he took
something from her that she could never get back.
He took her respect for herself.
I was fifteen and sixteen when all this happened. We had our own
painful history, as triplets, in terms of having been separated for a
while. That's what it was when Brinn had to move out of our
bedroom. Sure, I know we still lived in the same house, but it
was still a separation for us. Got a wife? Decide not touch
her for the next six months. Got a boyfriend? Think about
not being able to hold him or kiss him, but still live with him.
Is that any kind of life? And we had to watch as our mother went
through all this ... stuff. I think that was part of what made
our ability to cuddle in bed so desperately precious. All I know
is that we submersed ourselves in our triple love.
I am still sad, to this very day, to admit that that meant we didn't
pay all that much attention to what was happening to Uncle Bob.
He never let on that any of this was causing him any problems. He
never yelled at us, or cried or any of that coping stuff they talk
about in psychology classes. It was, in fact, while I was taking
a psych class in college that I thought about all this. And
maybe it's because he didn't
give any outward indication that he was in pain that we didn't pay any
attention to him. He insists that when his sister pulled away
from him, he understood it was for the best, and that he loved her, so
he let her go. You, reading this now, live in that world he lived
in back then, the world that says a brother and sister cannot have the
kind of love and life a married couple is allowed to have. They
both knew that, even if the three of us hadn't yet been beaten down and
surrendered to the people who insist that. So, in a sense, they
were finally surrendering to the world, even though we had lived as far
from that world as possible.
He still feels bad that he didn't see through Chuck's facade. He
has this ridiculous idea that he should have been able to do that and
protect his sister. But he says he just transferred his attention
to us. And that's probably true, to some degree. I do remember
that he got a lot more involved in helping us with homework, and did
chores with us, instead of just watching.
But if we watched a movie, the three of us kids still did what seemed
natural. We cuddled. And that left Uncle Bob alone in that
recliner.
I still feel bad about that.
However! Do not be sad!
Remember that silver lining I mentioned earlier?
As I said, when Mom came dragging back into the house, she looked
awful. She'd been through a very rough time, and she felt
stupid. She blamed herself for pretty much everything now, both
that had happened in our family, and with Chuck. She also felt
guilty for abandoning us, which she now realized was exactly what she
had done.
But we just kept telling her we loved her. She resisted Uncle
Bob's touch for almost a whole month. She even tried to push
Brinn away when he went at her for a hug, but he ignored her hands and
wiggled between them and hugged her anyway. She didn't have that
kind of aversion to us girls, so the majority of physical type
relationships she got was from us. This was twice that a male had
burned her and, even though those were sixteen years apart, she was a
believer in that old saying, "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me
twice, shame on me."
But then, one day I woke up early. I climbed over Brinn and
Shannon, who were spooning, with Shannon behind Brinn. His
morning erection was sticking out, so I stopped to kiss the tip of it
on the way, but then I went to the bathroom and after that, something
to eat. Mom was sitting at the table, leaning on her elbows (like
she had told us never to do) with both hands around a cup of
coffee. Uncle Bob was making pancake batter. I don't know
what they had been talking about before I got there, but as I entered
the room he said, "You did what you thought you had to do. I'm
just glad you're home."
She said, "Home." Her voice sounded funny, like she was confused, and Uncle Bob turned around.
"Yes," he said.
I kissed her on the cheek and said, "Morning, Mommy." Then I went
to Uncle Bob, and hugged him. By the time I was sixteen my body
had finally decided to be all grown up. So I pressed nice, round,
soft breasts against Uncle Bob's chest and kissed him on the lips.
"I miss that," Mom said, kind of soft.
I stepped away. Uncle Bob had an erection. That didn't
shock me at all now. It was just confirmation that I was still
pretty.
"You don't have to," he said.
I heard in his voice, something very deep, like crystal clear water, so
deep you can't see the bottom. It was weird, and it made my
nipples erect and the hair on the back of my neck stand up all at
once. I still don't know why I felt like it was the thing to do,
but I went to the table and made Mom stand up, and I led her to Uncle
Bob.
Did I mention she wore clothes all the time after she came back?
Sometimes, like now, it was just a robe, but she had given up nudity,
apparently. It was just one more thing we felt like we should try
to ignore. And when I got her to him, facing him, I reached
around with both hands and untied the knot of her robe. Then I
pulled it backwards off her shoulders.
She didn't resist. She just stood there looking up into Uncle
Bob's face. He didn't reach for her. They just stood there.
So I pushed her gently until she bumped into him.
It was like slow motion. Her hands came up to his waist, and his
hands rose to her head. I know the tips of her breasts were
touching his chest, and it's quite likely that his erection was
touching her abdomen.
"It is home," she whispered, finally.
"It always will be," he whispered back.
"I'll see you guys later," I said. "I'm not as hungry as I thought I was."
Mom turned her head to me and there were tears running down her cheeks.
"I love you so much," she said.
"I know," I said. "We love you too."
Don't ask me why I spoke for all of us in that moment. Except
maybe it was that I knew something important was happening, and the
other two weren't there, but I felt like they needed to be included in
this very important moment.
Then I turned around and left the room, going back to our bedroom, where Brinn and Shannon were in the exact same position.
So I closed the door and sucked his penis until he woke up.
Do you know that was the first time I seriously thought about asking
Brinn to fuck me? It was! It was amazing. Suddenly I
wanted something stiff and long and that was a penis in my pussy.
And I wanted it to be Brinn's penis at that moment. I loved
having it in my mouth, and I knew I'd also love having it in me in a
different place. Of course I didn't tell him. He needed no
encouragement to think along those lines. He'd been wanting to
fuck us both for a year now. That was still one of those
"someday" dreams.
But then another idea popped into my mind. I don't know where it
came from. Maybe my mind remembered that very first time I'd ever
seen him spurt, when some of it got on me. But suddenly I wanted
to feel his warmth all over my body. I pulled off of his lovely
stiff penis and said, "When you cum, I want you to squirt it on my
belly."
"What?" he asked, still sleepy.
"Spurt it here." I stood up on my knees and circled my belly button.
Shannon peered over his shoulder from behind him. He had rolled
against her when I started giving him the current hummer, and it woke
her up.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Nothing," I said. I looked back at Brinn. "Just do that for me, okay? Is it so much to ask?"
"No problem," he said, yawning. "Could you please start up again? I was almost there."
So I pushed him until he rolled onto his back, and Shannon had to
move. She was grumpy about it, but moved over. Then, when
he said he was there, I flopped down beside him and he rolled
over. I had let go of him, so he just naturally reached for it to
finish himself off. He kind of half rolled onto me, and deposited
four or five nice streams of white spunk on my belly. Then he
rolled back as my hands came to spread all that semen, first on my
belly, and then on both breasts, feeling my spread out fingers strum
very stiff nipples, and finally to slide one slick hand down to massage
my pussy lips.
"That looks hot," said Shannon, no longer grumpy.
"It feels wonderful," I said. "Almost like having suntan lotion rubbed on me."
"Except now you have to take a shower," said Shannon.
I slipped a finger into my pussy, not even thinking about the fact that
there were probably a million of Brinn's sperm cells on it.
"Not until I have a nice, hard, cum," I said, breathing deeply.
Right then Mom gave out one of those hoarse, screaming groans that we
had heard so many times in the past, and which all three of us knew was
because she was having an orgasm with Uncle Bob. We had never
told her we could hear that frantic, passion-filled scream of
completion. It wasn't because we didn't want to embarrass her, or
that we were too embarrassed to bring something like that up in casual
conversation. I think it was because that scream was so full of
joy that we just loved hearing it.
It was even better that time.
Because it meant things were back to normal.
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