Something Old, Something New
by Lubrican
Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
Chapter Two
There are things about your parents that you should probably never find
out. Never in a million zillion years would I have believed that
something like that happened to my own mother on her wedding day . . .
and what happened after that, too. This is also when I learned what all
those different hair colors of my uncles meant.
"You're kidding!" I moaned, for perhaps the tenth or twentieth time.
"No," she insisted. "Your uncles are, in reality, my half brothers,
though nobody ever called them that, or treated them that way. By the
time Tony came along she was just so used to the Parker name that she
kept it for him too. It was easier, especially since she knew she was
going to get divorced again."
She went on.
"And it wasn't just your grandmother who couldn't turn a man down. I
was that way too. The women in this family are cursed with a libido the
size of King Kong."
"Why didn't you ever tell me this before now?" I asked.
"Because I was hoping you were normal. You looked normal, and acted
normal. I still hope you're normal."
"Well of course I'm normal," I said in an agitated voice. "I mean I
think I'm normal. Why wouldn't I be normal?" I frowned. "How
do you even know if you are normal?"
She sighed again, and took another tiny stitch. "I could ask you some
questions, but they'll be very personal."
"What kind of questions?"
"About your sex life."
"Eeep!" I gasped.
"See? That's one of the things that gave me hope. You don't
flaunt it. I've even held out hope that you're still a virgin. Are you,
honey?" She sounded so hopeful that it distracted me from the
fact that my mother just asked me if I'd ever had sex.
"Well ... sort of," I said, trying to keep her hope alive.
"You can't be sort of a virgin," she said, "just like you can't be sort
of pregnant."
"What I mean is that I fooled around with a lot of boys, but I never
let any of them actually put it in me. Not there, anyway." I
closed my eyes. I'd just blurted out something I had never intended to
tell anybody ... not even my husband, if he wanted to do it too!
"I tried that a couple of times," said my mother casually. "Didn't much
care for it. I prefer a man stick it where nature intended it to be
stuck."
"Mom!" I moaned.
"Well you asked!" she snapped. "And that's just the tip of the iceberg,
so get over being shocked. There's a lot more to come. Your grandmother
is a member of the mile high club and she joined in a biplane during a
ride with a crop duster when she was eighteen!"
"You're kidding!" I gasped weakly.
"And they didn't have autopilots in those days either," said my mother.
She sounded impressed. Then she got back to me.
"How many boys have you fooled around with?"
"I don't remember," I fudged.
"Yes you do. I do and it's a very high two digit number. Yours is
probably still in the single digits, so give."
I had never actually counted them up, and did so now, going over them
in chronological order in my mind. There was Timmy, who taught me how
to French kiss and groped my boobs when I was eleven. I decided he was
first because playing doctor didn't count in my book. Then there was
Daniel, who was the first to get his hand in my panties. Stevie got my
top half naked, and Phillip got me all naked. I almost let him put it
in me, but sucked him off instead. I always kept something on after
that, so while Nathaniel, and Brody got their tongues or fingers in me,
that was all. Jamal was the one who talked me into letting him into my
bottom. He liked it, but I didn't. I became an expert at giving a
blowjob that would satisfy just about any boy, which was why I never
had to fight anybody off.
This is not to say I never had anything in my pussy besides fingers and
tongues. My best friend Melody got her hands on a dildo and we both
decided that toys were as good as boys, and a lot safer too.
"Seven," I finally said.
"And none of them actually got you to go all the way?"
"I had ... um ... other means of fulfilling that particular
desire," I said carefully.
"Did it have a vibrator built in?" asked my mom, straight-faced.
"No," I said in a very small voice as I blushed bright red.
"Get one that vibrates," she said sagely. "The rabbit is the best
design I've ever found, and they're not so expensive any more."
"What does this have to do with anything?" I asked weakly.
"As I said, the women in our family are sluts. We can't keep our legs
closed. You've resisted, and that's good. The tradition might actually
work in your case. The whole point of it was to have one last fling
before giving all that up for your new husband. It was supposed to sort
of get it out of your system, I guess, and with men you could trust."
"But it didn't work that way for you?"
"Not hardly," she sighed. "Though it came in awfully handy when I got
divorced."
I blanched. "Surely you don't mean . . ."
My own mother looked me dead in the eye. "It beats going to singles
bars. Trust me on that."
I know it looks like I've left some stuff out, or that I've been trying
to tease you or something, but I'm really trying to lay it out for you
as honestly as possible, and in the order things happened. I mean,
considering the outcome, I really need you to understand that I didn't
plan on any of this to happen, originally. Neither did my mom, for that
matter. But because I just couldn't leave it alone, I learned some
things that changed the way I thought about all sorts of things . . .
and people.
But this is getting long, so I'll cut to the chase and just tell you
about my own wedding day. I'll try not to interrupt too much with
explanations. The one thing you need to know up front is that somehow -
and I still don't quite understand how - I ended up saying that I
wanted to try out the family tradition.
That sounds easy, like I just said, "I'll give that a shot," or something, but it wasn't anywhere near that easy.
Still ... I had my reasons for doing it.
I got married on a Saturday. That's because relatives were coming from
way far away, hundreds and hundreds of miles in some cases, and we
aren't a rich family so most people needed the time to be able to drive
to and from the wedding while missing a minimum of work.
The ceremony was scheduled to start at three PM sharp, and be over at
three-thirty. With photographs until four, that put the reception at a
time when people would be beginning to get hungry, and food would be
appreciated. The reception was early enough that people who had to
leave that night could still participate.
It also meant that, between about eight in the morning and
two-fifty-five PM, I had nothing to do but get ready to walk down the
aisle. This is because Melody, my best friend, was also my Maid of
Honor, and she was the organizer from hell. Once she learned what all
the plans were, she went into supervisor mode, which meant she didn't
want any help from me, because my job was to relax and look beautiful.
I could have slept until noon and then gone to the hall. But that's not
what the tradition called for.
Around nine in the morning I was in my dressing room, sitting there in
my new lacy bra and frilly high rise panties, trying to figure out how
the garter belt worked when there was a knock on the door. I went to
the door and opened it a crack. My Uncle Dan was standing there in a
suit, looking uncomfortable.
"Your mother told me to come see you," he said.
"Oh. Right."
I stepped back, a little nervously, and pulled the door open. His eyes
got all big and round as he saw how I was dressed and he gulped, but
then stepped in and hastily closed the door. He locked it too.
"I don't believe this," he whispered, staring me up and down.
"Me either," I said.
His eyes jerked up to mine and he frowned. "Are you sure you want to do
this?"
I shrugged. "How else will I know?"
"This is so strange," he sighed.
"I don't see why," I said casually. "Everybody says I look a lot like
Mom."
"Yeah ... but you're not your mom," he said.
"Have you really been doing it with her all these years?" I
couldn't help but ask. I mean I had no reason to think my mother was
lying to me about where she got her loving after the divorce. Who would
lie about a thing like that?! But I still had to ask.
"Um ... yes," he admitted. For a big furry bear he sure looked
vulnerable.
"She says doing it with you is like lying on a shag rug," I said, for
some reason.
"She does, does she?" The corners of his mouth curled
upwards. "You're too young to know what a shag rug even is."
"Am not!" I said petulantly. "I've seen them in the stores."
He unbuttoned his suit coat and took it off. Then he undid his shirt.
He was wearing a wife beater under that. You could see his thick hair
through that, which was why he wore it. If he didn't have on an
undershirt, you'd see that mat of hair right through his shirt. He
pulled the wife beater off and stood there in just his pants and shoes.
"Do they look like this in the stores?" he asked.
I had seen him in a bathing suit before, at the lake. I think I had
recognized how hairy he was, but had not really paid all that much
attention to it. I did now. You could brush him, I swear!
While I was imagining taking a dog brush to him he undid his belt and
pants and stepped out of them. He had on purple boxers, of all things.
"Last chance to change your mind," he said, with his thumbs in the
waistband of his boxers.
I stood there, maybe a little wild-eyed, because if I didn't say
something I was going to see my Uncle Dan's penis!
"Go on," I said softly.
"Oh damn," he sighed. "Megan, you have no idea how many times I've
wanted to do this."
He pushed his shorts down and stood up. I swear there wasn't a square
inch of bare skin on his body except for his kneecaps and the places he
shaved. His penis, which was already as hard as a board, looked like
somebody had found one somewhere and just laid it down on this mat of
black hair. I had never seen anything like it at all. Plus, he wasn't
circumcised. All seven of the boy's I'd played with had been
circumcised. I thought everybody was.
But Uncle Dan wasn't. He was fascinating, and I had the most fun
looking at him as he stepped closer and closer to me. Then he was right
next to me and I had to look up, because he's at least six inches
taller than I am.
"I want to touch you," he said softly.
"Oh," I said, breathlessly. I looked down at the prick that was now
only a foot away from me. It looked like a cudgel. The first one that
was ever going to go inside my pussy looked like a fucking ugly stick
that could be used to beat somebody half to death with. I looked back up at
him.
"You look scared," he said.
"I'm a virgin," I gasped.
"Your mother told me that," he said, sounding puzzled. "That's hard to
believe."
"Why?" I asked. I think I was subconsciously trying to put off what was
supposed to happen.
"Cause you're such a cute little babe," he said, as it if were obvious.
"If I was your age, I'd be chasing you everywhere."
"It wouldn't be the same," I said, for some reason. I was really
nervous.
And then suddenly he reached for me, and pulled me to him and kissed me
on the lips.
Now let me tell you. I've kissed a lot of boys. I kissed more than the
seven I counted as fooling around with. And I thought I was an
experienced kisser. I mean there was one boy who came in his pants on
the first date when I kissed him with my special "I like you" kiss. But
when Uncle Dan kissed me, I knew instantly I was an amateur. It was
like I was being eaten alive, except that it felt wonderful, instead of
predatory.
And then his hands were all over the place, and my new bra fell off and
my panties disappeared and suddenly I was lying on a shag rug that was
warm and softer than I could have believed and a penis was poking where
no man's penis had poked before and fifteen seconds later I was
officially no longer a virgin. I was astonished that the ugly stick
felt so beautiful, even if I did feel a little like I'd swallowed a
python that had just eaten a really big rodent.
"Just experiment for a while," he said, and went to work on my breasts.
Brody had been the best at making my titties feel good, mostly with his
mouth. Uncle Dan had this way of spreading his fingers out so that they
covered the whole breast and then pulling them in, stroking with all
five fingers until they centered on the nipple. And that was just
amazing in the sense that there was anticipation until the nipple was
squeezed by all five digits, which was just killer good.
I felt a cum about half an inch away and realized with shock that that
cudgel was all the way in my pussy. I sat up, and sort of vibrated as a
totally new kind of orgasm set fire to my belly. I think I made a lot
of noise, because he kept shushing me and looking toward the door. I
tried to tone down the only thing I seemed to be able to say, which was
a string of, "Oh damn ... oh damn ... oh damn."
I relaxed and kind of sagged into his hands, which were now holding me
up by my breasts. My head drooped and I was glad for my pixie cut when
no hair fell over my fact to block my view of the bear under me. I
giggled, thinking about how I had just fucked a bear. Then I stopped,
because it hit me I had fucked at all.
"Thank you," I said softly.
"Not yet," he said.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not done yet."
Then the bear mauled me.
Twenty minutes later I lay limply on the single bed in that dressing
room. One of my legs was straight and spread a little. The other one
was cocked, with the knee bent. I didn't have to raise my head and look
to know that something was dripping out of my pussy.
While I was still sitting there on top of him, the bear had humped,
which caused me to fly up in the air. His penis came out of me with a
wet, sucking "POP" and his hands did something as he moved so fast I
couldn't believe it. I ended up on my back, with him between my thighs.
I swear my pussy purred as he found the entrance and slid the cudgel
back into me, pushing even after it was all in until I slid up the bed
an inch. My clitty was just screaming. Then he growled. I mean
it! It was just like a bear, except instead of eating me to
death he fucked me to death, lunging and pounding until it felt like we
were on a trampoline. It was just wonderful. It was like some wild and
crazy carnival ride, except that a lot of the wonderful part was inside
me as my pussy decided to have another orgasm.
And right in the middle of that, the bear slammed in one last time and
froze, and his eyes got all round again and he whimpered, "Oh Megan
baby," in this impossibly high voice. And then I felt that wonderful
thing that was stuffing me kind of jump, and then it did it again and
again and there was suddenly a big ball of heat inside me.
I'd gotten my first pussyful of sperm from my Uncle Dan. That's
because, as my mom's older brother, he was the 'something old' for my
wedding.
In her case, on her wedding day ... it had been my grandpa.
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