My Unconventional Life

ten chapters

 

 

My Unconventional Life

by Robert Lubrican

Bookapy Edition

Copyright 2013 Robert Lubrican

2^nd edition edited 2023

License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

If you would like to share this book with another person, please let them borrow your e-reader.

If you want your own copy, then please go to bookapy.com and purchase it.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Rights to use cover art purchased at istock.com

*****

Table of Contents

Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Chapter One

I have to say, right up front, that I had no idea how unusual my life was until I was about fourteen. And I also need to say that I'm fully aware many of you may feel, at least initially, that this is a tale of abuse, or molestation or the like.

But what I want you to understand is that my life wasn't anything like that at all.

And that's why I want to tell my story. I wasn't molested. I was loved. And I'll always be glad that I was loved in the fashion I was.

So please, don't frown, or grumble. This is a tale of joy and happiness. Besides. I didn't actually lose my virginity until I was sixteen, which is a whole year older than the age of consent in a half of America and three quarters of the rest of the world. And even the phrase "lost my virginity" is not the right phrase for what happened to me. Not the way most women would mean it. So put your personal morals on hold for a bit. Uncle Bob did not molest me.

Even if he sort of practiced at it for years.

But let me just tell you how it all happened. Then you'll see why I'm so happy about my very unconventional life.

My name is Kylie. I'm the youngest of triplets. My oldest sibling is Shannon and our brother is Brinn. We're fraternal, which means that somehow mom squirted three eggs out of her ovaries about the same time our father(s) squirted several million sperms into her vagina. The reason I used the conditional plural for "father" is that we don't actually know who our father(s) is/are. That's because mom got pregnant at a beach party while she was on winter break down in Mexico when she was in her senior year of high school. She doesn't remember much of it, except drinking something that was sweet and made her feel like she could fly. She also remembers seeing three naked guys standing over her, but that's about it. She woke up naked on the beach, and could tell she'd had sex. Her "friends," who had said they'd take care of her, were nowhere around.

We didn't actually learn all this until we were fifteen, but I'm telling you now because it may help explain why she did some of the things she did, after that happened to her. Mom was pretty unconventional to start with, so it's probably no huge surprise to some people that we triplets were raised a little weird too.

Anyway, when we asked about our father, as all kids eventually do, what she told us was that she couldn't remember him, which was okay, but she also couldn't remember the sex, which was sort of a tragedy. I mean a girl should be able to remember her first time.

Yes, I know that this kind of first time might not be the best memory. After all, she was gangbanged by (at least) three guys who didn't really give a crap about the girl they were fucking. But what if she liked them? I mean they might have been the guys she dreamed of having a first time with ... right? See how complicated this can get?

Anyway, you might think that not knowing who our father was bummed us kids out. We would eventually find out that we were the result of what amounted to rape, both ethically and legally. Of course we didn't find that out until we were fifteen, like I said, and by then we had already gotten used to the idea that our dad was stupid because he'd run out on us, and that meant he'd never get to know us, which made him a real loser. So we never really missed him.

Besides that, Uncle Bob was always there as a father-figure. He was there from as early as I can remember anything. I have misty, hazy memories of him clear back to when I was four, I think, but it's hard to tell because we've always lived in the same house and so has Uncle Bob. Mom got a job in the mill while she was pregnant. Our Grandma worked there, and got mom the job. Grandpa was a soldier and he got shot up and couldn't work, so when we were born, he took care of us while Mom and Grandma were at work. I don't remember any of that part, because that was while we were just babies. And way back then, the way Uncle Bob describes it, his job involved driving some important guy around in a big, fancy car, and he lived in a trailer house. There was more to it than that, but I'll get to that in a minute.

I know this doesn't sound very unconventional. That part comes next. It was sad, at least for the grownups, but it was pretty normal, I guess.

Anyway, where things started to get different was one day when Uncle Bob was driving his boss around and these guys tried to assassinate him. They had machine guns and hand grenades, or something like that, and Uncle Bob saved his boss, but got kind of blown up in the process. He doesn't talk about that, or who his boss was, but it had to be somebody important, because he got to retire and they pay him a boatload of money to be retired on. He limps, but other than that you can't tell he ever got exploded, or whatever.

So by the time I remember being around Uncle Bob, it was after he already had the ranch. He calls where he lives "The Ranch" even though there aren't any cows or horses or anything like that there. There are barns and stuff, but no animals. It's way out in the middle of a forest in Wyoming, and the driveway is like two miles long. I'm trying to describe it the way I remembered it back then. That's because it was home to me, for all intents and purposes. We spent more time there than we did at our house, which was in Colorado.

Okay, so the very first memory I have of Uncle Bob is of him lying on one of those fold up bed thingies beside a swimming pool, and he stood up with a smile on his face.

And he was naked.

I remember my mom running and slamming into him, and they hugged and made all these happy noises, and I looked at Shannon and Brinn and they looked back at me. It was pretty clear to me they didn't know any more than I did about what was going on. So we just stood there, kind of pressed together while this naked man we had never seen was hugging our mother.

Then he kissed her. On the lips.

Now that wasn't strange, in and of itself. We all kissed each other on the lips. It was just kissing. We did it every day at one time or another. Mom kissed all of us, and we kissed each other. Though sometimes Shannon and I kissed Brinn on each of his cheeks at the same time. That's because people thought that was cute and they gave us candy and cookies and stuff when we did that.

But we'd never seen our mother kiss a man. She hugged and kissed Grandma and Grandpa, but no other adults.

Now, of course, we know that this was right after Uncle Bob got out of the hospital and had just bought the ranch with some of the money they gave him. And the pool was brand new, because when he bought the ranch, it didn't have a swimming pool there. He wanted one and he had all this money, so he just had some people come and build one.

Anyway, we stayed there at Uncle Bob's ranch for a while. I don't know how long. It was probably only a few days, because Mom was still working then. But that was when we found out that we didn't have to wear any clothes when we were at Uncle Bob's ranch. Mom didn't wear clothes either. Of course we had seen each other without clothes on lots of times. When it was bath time, we took baths together, and we had played in the sprinkler naked. That's about the only other memory I have from back then. And we saw Mom without clothes on sometimes, but then she always dressed us and put clothes on herself too. So this was really different, that first time we went to Uncle Bob's house.

The other thing I remember was that we still slept in the same bed at Uncle Bob's, just like we did at home, but Mom slept in the same bed as Uncle Bob, instead of her own. That was different. Shannon was whiny at bedtime. She's always been that way. And she was always getting out of bed and going into Mom's bedroom and asking for a drink, or saying she had to go potty or something. Sometimes Brinn and I would go with her, but it wasn't worth it, because Mom got mad about it usually. But this time, in this new place, when Shannon got up and went to find Mom, we snuck along behind her. And that's how I know Mom was in Uncle Bob's bed, because I saw them. I heard Mom laugh and say, "See? I told you she would." And Uncle Bob laughed and jumped out of bed and caught Brinn and me and picked us up. I started to cry, because I was scared, but all he did was hug us and say everything was fine. He took us back to the room we were staying in and told us a long story. I remember it was a really great story, but I don't remember what it was about.

Anyway, we went back home and everything went back to normal, meaning Grandpa took care of us while Mom and Grandma worked and we all wore clothes all the time again.

The next time I saw Uncle Bob was when he came to visit us for our fifth birthday party. He brought presents; Barbies for me and Shannon and a fire truck for Brinn that ad battery operated lights and siren. He stayed for a long time, which I now know was probably a week, but that seemed like a long time to us. He didn't take his clothes off then, except at night when he got in bed with Mom. We just figured they liked to sleep together, like the three of us liked to sleep together. I loved snuggling with my brother and sister, because it was warm, and they smelled good and I felt safe. Plus, there was a monster who lived in our closet, but he wouldn't come out if all three of us were hugging or touching each other.

The next summer we went to visit Uncle Bob again. Again he was naked when we got there and after she hugged him, Mom took her clothes off and asked us kids if we wanted to swim. Uncle Bob had these cool shirt things we could wear that were real thick. I know now they were life jackets, but I didn't know that then. All we knew was that they were cool because they helped us float and we didn't have to worry about getting our faces wet by going under water. He had this fence thing in the pool that kept us all at one end, and with the life jackets on, our toes could barely touch the bottom. We learned to bounce up and down to get around and I remember we played tag for a long time. Uncle Bob and Mom laid down on a towel on the outside of the pool. Actually, Mom sat on top of Uncle Bob and tried to squish him by bouncing up and down, like Shannon tried to squish Brinn and me when we were wrestling.

I know what you're thinking. You know what they were doing. I do too, now. But I'm telling it to you like I remember it back then, because you have to understand how things happened, and how we felt about all this while it was happening.

Over the next few years we visited Uncle Bob lots of times and it was just like that. Mom taught us the word "nudist" and said Uncle Bob was a full-time nudist and we were part-time nudists. Brinn argued with her and said Uncle Bob couldn't be a full time nudist because when he came to visit us, he didn't take his clothes off.

"Unless he's in bed with you," said Shannon. "He's always a nudist when he gets in bed with you."

I remember this shocked look on my mom's face when Shannon said this. We were eight, I think. I still remember how Shannon said this because of that look on my mom's face. You know how a little kid says something that's obvious, and says it in an obvious manner. It doesn't actually mean anything special, they're just pointing out how obvious something is. And Shannon (and the rest of us) still didn't understand that Mom and Uncle Bob were having sex. It wouldn't be much longer before we came to that realization, but we didn't know it then. Of course now that I'm older, and remember how things sounded and looked that day, I know it sounded like Shannon knew they were having sex, and that's why Mom got that look on her face. Her face turned real red, too.

Then she said, "Well ... we love each other!"

You know how an adult says something and the kids all look at each other like someone has just announced that the sun will come up tomorrow ... and everybody already knows that the sun will come up tomorrow ... so the kids are kind of confused as to why that was said?

That happened.

Then Brinn asked a question that would change all of our lives forever. We just didn't know it at the time.

"Mommy? What does loving each other have to do with being a nudist?"

Mom looked around, kind of like she was looking for somebody, maybe, but of course the only ones there were us kids.

"What I mean is that since we love each other, it's fine to be nudists together. But we wouldn't want to be nudists with strangers," she said. Her voice sounded funny, and if we'd been just a few years older we probably would have reacted differently to what she'd just said. But we weren't, and she was our mom, so we just said, "Okay," and went on with life, you know?

The point is that it became clear to the adults that we kids were getting old enough to notice things they hadn't had to worry about before.

Now you might think that would have changed the way Uncle Bob and Mom acted when they were around us. You have to remember that I was just there, and being a kid, and probably not paying all that much attention to what was going on. But I don't remember there being any big changes or anything. If we were at the ranch, and we watched a movie, we probably watched it naked and Uncle Bob and Mom sat together on the couch and cuddled, and us kids cuddled somewhere else. He had bean bag chairs for each of us, and we liked them sometimes, but usually we didn't, because all three of us wouldn't fit on just one bean bag. So usually we'd make a kind of fort out of the bean bags and huddle in the middle of that. We also liked to sit in the recliner, together. And while we watched the movie Mom and Uncle Bob would smooch and touch each other.

It was the smooching and touching each other that eventually taught us what was really going on between them, by the way. Brinn figured it out first. We were nine and it was the end of the school day. For some reason the school decided it wasn't a good idea for all three of us to be in the same classroom. But they only had two classes for the fifth grade, so they put Brinn in one class and Shannon and me in the other. At the end of the day we rode the same bus home, of course, and Shannon and I were waiting beside the door for Brinn when he came tearing up to us looking all excited.

I could tell you what was said, but I'll just summarize. Some boys had dared him to "smooch" with Brenda Dickman, who was in their class. He was supposed to kiss her and put his hand on her "boobies." And he asked, "Why?" and these guys laughed and said it was "having sex" and that they'd all done it and he should too. So, being stupid, Brinn went up and tried to kiss Brenda and ran his hand in a circle over her chest and she yelled and Miss Chambers got involved. So he told her what he was doing and why he was doing it and she scolded him and said gentlemen don't try to take advantage of a lady. When he promised he'd never do anything like that again, she went and collected up the guys who had dared him and took them to the principal's office. It was a really big scandal. For two weeks after that Brenda said Brinn was her boyfriend and that they were going to get married and all that.

Anyway, that's when we found out that what our mother and Uncle Bob were doing when they kissed and touched each other. They were having sex.

This, of course, was a huge deal. You might think it was a huge deal because they were brother and sister. But that wasn't the thing. The thing was that while we knew that "people" had sex, we didn't actually know anybody who we knew was actually having sex. Remember, we were little kids, with only part of the facts, and with only a smidgen of experience in the world. Of course we knew hundreds of adults who were having sex. We just didn't know we knew that. We simply didn't understand how all that worked back then. We didn't know what we didn't know. That's what being a kid is like. It's like living in a picture puzzle that hasn't been all put together yet.

Besides that, there were other things going on at that time in our lives that were distractions. Take, for instance, the fact that Uncle Bob bought a horse. To us he was this huge, scary black beast, at least at first. But when he put us on the saddle, the whole world changed for us. Suddenly we were seven feet tall, and everything looked completely different. Even buildings looked different.

Of course when we rode him, we got dressed. We also got dressed when we went for a hike, or played games outside in the woods behind the house. We had never explored the vast pasture up to that point, but the horse was the perfect way to do that. Of course, if we wanted to ride him, somebody had to go get him and he was usually out in the pasture somewhere. Uncle Bob left a halter on him with a piece of rope hanging down and one of our favorite things became the "rescue the horse" where we went out into the dangerous world and brought him safely back to the barn. We wouldn't know for years that that horse could have taken on a mountain lion and won the fight. But with us, he was as gentle as could be. That first year, all three of us would fit into the big saddle on his back. If Uncle Bob didn't put us there, we could walk him over to the board fence of the corral and climb up on that to get to the saddle. Of course the only place we could ride without an adult along was in the corral, but we didn't care. We were only nine. And those few times they hiked through the pasture while we rode were glorious.

It was the year we were ten that everything changed. With no warning whatsoever, Mom sat us all down and asked if we'd like to go live at the ranch all the time. There had been, as you can imagine (but we couldn't at the time) a lot of discussion between Mom and Uncle Bob about ... things. They really were besotted with each other, though we kids didn't understand that yet. Nor did we know that their love affair went clear back to the very first time Mom went out on a date (it was to a school dance) and the boy who took her out wouldn't talk to her or look at her or touch her. She didn't know he was scared half to death, just like she was. And when she got home she went to her room and cried because she thought she was ugly or something. Uncle Bob heard her and went to see what was wrong. He was sixteen, a couple of years older than she was, and he tried to convince her she wasn't ugly. I guess she didn't believe him and, being a boy, he thought one way to prove it was to show her his erection, which he said she was responsible for because she looked so hot in her dress. Let's just say that she was finally convinced. The point is that from that time on, if she was interested in some mating ritual, or curious about some aspect of teenage sexual exploration, she had a trusted male handy to work that out with. We didn't get a whole lot more details than that, but you can just imagine what it must have been like to have that trusted male handy right next door to your bedroom.

Anyway, this history, though we didn't know it then, was actually very important, because as we all know (eventually), history repeats itself.

You see, it was actually Brinn who had cold feet about moving to the ranch. And the reason he had cold feet was because of Brenda Dickman. She still thought Brinn was her boyfriend, and he'd kind of gotten used to that idea too, even though they rarely even talked to each other. Kids at that age just believe things, without empirical evidence to back it up, you know? But Brinn was pretty sure he'd never get another girlfriend if he left this one behind.

So Shannon and I said we'd be his girlfriends.

He made us promise we'd be his girlfriends forever, and when we did, he said, "Okay."

It should probably be said, here, that this conversation about us being his girlfriends didn't take place in front of our mother. When we hadn't burst into cheers immediately (we girls could tell instantly that something was bothering Brinn) she had frowned and said, "Think about it," and gone off to call Uncle Bob, probably in a panic, now that I think about it. Anyway, she was so happy when we all went to find her and said we wanted to move, that she didn't ask any questions. Actually, as things have turned out, I don't know if knowing why Brinn said he'd move would have made any difference. Who knows?

The point is that when we were almost eleven, we moved to the ranch.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

There is a difference between being a part time nudist, who lives in Colorado, and visits their full time nudist uncle for a week at a time, and living with a full time nudist. Uncle Bob found out about that difference too. I suppose, in one sense, that's what this story is all about. I have to warn you, at this point, that things might get a little jumbled up for a little while, and it may seem like I'm going off on tangents as I tell you what happened. But that's only because lots of different things were all going on at the same time over the next few years. These things weren't all separated out in nice, neat little packets that you could walk around and examine, and think about and come to terms with. They just happened, whether we were ready for them or not.

Take for instance when Shannon and I had our first periods. I guess they used to teach girls about that in school, but they don't anymore. They assume a girl's mother will take care of all that. And our mother probably would have, except she had other things on her mind. I think it surprised her as much as it did us when Shannon suddenly started bleeding and thought she was dying. Had we been normal people, she probably would have noticed it when she removed a pair of bloody panties. But we were nudists. So what happened was that she started feeling bad in a way she'd never felt bad before (I'm not even trying to explain PMS to the men out there) and then blood ran down her leg.

Being of the same womb, at the same time, I was in sync with my sister, so by the time Mom had dealt with Shannon's emergency, and mine came along the very next day, she was well prepared to teach me what she'd just taught my sister. It would have been better if Shannon hadn't been there too, warning me of every bad thing that was about to happen. By that I mean my Mom teaching me how to use a tampon, since nudists don't use pads. So there was Shannon saying things like, "This is going to hurt a lot at first, and you'll be sore. I'm still sore and I only did it yesterday."

Brinn, of course, wasn't involved. Don't ask me why girls are just naturally shy about having a period. Personally, I think it's part of evolution or something. I mean, think about it. A period is really a woman's body announcing that she just failed to conceive a child and keep the species going. She could have become pregnant ... but did not. And all that blood shouts it to the world that she failed. I know we don't think about it that way these days, but Mother Nature is a very powerful presence in our lives and we ignore her to our peril in many cases. It's just a theory. But most women will agree that there is a natural reticence to boldly advertise you're on the rag. Now, add to that, your brother pointing to the little white string hanging from between your puffy labia and asking "What's that string thing coming out of you?" and you get some idea of how unsettling something completely normal can be.

And then there was the fact that, by then, we clearly knew that Mom and Uncle Bob were doing things that we were pretty sure brothers and sisters weren't supposed to do together. But the problem was that in our memories, they had always acted the way they acted now. And most ten-year-olds are at a point where they understand that sometimes what "everybody knows" is not necessarily true. At some point you move from blind belief in whatever somebody says, to a healthy skepticism about most "facts."

In this case, the way things got resolved ... sort of ... was one night about a week after we'd moved. It was early summer, and the weather was beautiful in the afternoon. We were all out in the pool, running around naked, as usual. Us kids knew how to swim now, and didn't have to use the life jackets that had "lifeguarded" us in the old days, so Uncle Bob and Mom could spend time together "wrestling." So we finished a game of Marco Polo and Shannon called us into a huddle, looking excited. She pointed and when Brinn and I looked, there was Uncle Bob, on top of our mother, with her legs wrapped around him and he was lunging forwards and backwards while they kissed. He had gotten some better chaise lounges, and they were lying on top of one of those.

Brinn marched off across the shallow end of the pool, climbed the ladder and went right up to them, dripping.

"Are you guys having sex?" he asked, just like that.

Uncle Bob said, "Shit," which was the first time we'd heard an adult say that word right out loud, right in front of a bunch of kids. Our mom made this moaning sound that we knew meant she was embarrassed. Don't ask me why. They'd done this literally dozens of times in front of us before this. Thinking back on it, I suspect they hadn't planned any of those lovemaking sessions. They just started fooling around and then got carried away and thought we were dumb kids and wouldn't pay any attention or something. Adults frequently think kids aren't paying attention. Of course frequently kids aren't paying attention. But not when adults are having sex right in front of them. Trust me on this.

So, anyway, they kind of half got up and half fell off of the chaise lounge, during which Uncle Bob's erection became a feature of interest. All three of us stared at it. Of course we'd seen his penis hundreds of times. But not long and hard and wet looking, and dripping this milky white stuff.

"Hey!" said Brinn. "That happens to me too!" He pointed at Uncle Bob's penis. He frowned. "But it doesn't look like that," he added, doubtfully.

The object which had captured all our attention flagged quickly. It still looked thicker and bigger than usual. Sometimes Uncle Bob's penis looked almost tiny, all tucked up like it had shrunk or something. And sometimes it looked like a half-formed sausage, maybe. But we'd never seen it as big as it had just been when he pulled it out of our mother. So we were all a little shocked.

For some reason, our mother decided it was time for us to have "The Talk." Yes, I'm referring to the vaunted "talk" that every parent dreads having with their children. Don't ask me why she thought that was the appropriate time, but she did. And Uncle Bob got caught in the pattern of this parental shotgun blast, sitting there with his sperm-covered, now-limp post-coital penis as one of the visual aids.

Understanding that, by then, we'd already received the information our mother was trying to give us, you might not be as surprised as she was when, at the end of her lecture, Brinn's only question was, "Are you trying to get pregnant?"

"No!" moaned our mother.

Uncle Bob tried to help. "Sometimes people have sex just for fun."

Mom shot him a dark look. It was the only one I'd ever seen her give him.

"You're not helping, Bob," she said. "Go clean up. I'll finish up here."

He left and Mom looked at us.

"Look, you guys love each other, right?" We all nodded in unison. "Well I love my brother too. Most people don't understand it like we do, and the fact is that it's nobody else's business what we do here on the ranch. We shouldn't have been doing things in front of you kids, because you're too young to understand it now. But someday you will understand, and we can have another discussion about it then. Okay?"

We nodded in unison again.

"Good!" she said, sounding relieved. She looked toward the house. "I need a shower too," she said. "You guys can keep swimming, but don't stay in too long. And if anybody gets out, you all get out. Got it?"

It was a day for nodding in unison.

She left us thinking about what she'd said. You know ... about loving her brother and it being nobody's business what happened between brothers and sisters ... like having sex...

I'm sure she would have said things a little differently if Brinn hadn't surprised her and gotten her off kilter.

But she didn't say them differently.

It was just one more little thing that propelled us forward to...

Have you ever been trying to walk down a steep hill, and you start to slide a little, and you have to take a giant step forward, and then another one, until you're leaping wildly down the hill, trying to keep your balance and make it to the bottom without falling?

That's a great metaphor for what happened to us that afternoon. Our mother gave us the teensiest little push toward a slippery slope that would have us tumbling helplessly downhill. It would take years, but it would happen.

And please, even though I said Mom gave us that little push, please don't blame her. She wasn't trying to do that. What she and Uncle Bob had was something they'd come to terms with years ago. They had agonized over it and worried about it, and finally decided that their happiness was just as important as anyone else's. They weren't trying to introduce us into an incestuous lifestyle. They were simply acting out their own love, and we happened to see it. They'd have been more circumspect about it if they'd have taken the time to think about it more. But they'd been separated by all that time Uncle Bob had gone to college and been a bodyguard or whatever. And when they had a chance to get back together, they jumped at it. And we were just little kids, and like most adults, they thought we wouldn't pay any attention to what they were doing.

Maybe they fell down their own little hill, out of control.

The point is, nobody intended for their indiscretions to become our indiscretions.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Okay, so now you have a couple of examples of things that were going on at that time in our lives. I think it's pretty fair to say most kids don't experience those kinds of things. At least not at those levels. And that had a real impact on how things would play out in the future too. It's all part of what I told you about in the beginning ... about how unconventional our lives were.

Initially, all the public displays of affection between Uncle Bob and Mom stopped. They didn't even kiss any more in front of us kids. We noticed that too, including the fact that there were fewer smiles than there had been before. None of us kids had ever been "in love" before. Not even Brinn considered his time with Brenda to be like that. But we knew love existed, and we had seen them exhibiting that love toward each other. We didn't talk about it, but I think we worried when that exhibition of joy and happiness stopped taking place.

What brought things to a boil was one night, maybe two or three days later, when we gathered in the den to watch the latest movie that had arrived from Netflix, and Mom sat down in the recliner, and Uncle Bob sat down on the couch. It was just wrong. They didn't sit apart like that. They'd never sat apart like that. They always sat together and cuddled. It was just the way the world was supposed to be!

It was Shannon who took the bull by the horns this time. Don't ask me why she thought to do this, but she went and climbed up on Uncle Bob's lap.

"If Mommy's not going to cuddle with you, I will," she said, laying her head against his shoulder.

What happened then was very strange, at least from the viewpoint of an eleven year old girl with my background.

Uncle Bob got this strange look on his face, and then he turned red, and then he said, "I don't think that's a good idea, sweetheart."

I looked over at Mom, for some reason. She was kind of pinked up too, and suddenly she got up and went over to where Shannon was still wiggling around on Uncle Bob's lap, trying to get comfortable. I mean that's what she was doing. It was obvious to me. She had just climbed on his lap, like she'd done a million times, and was trying to get comfortable, like she'd done a million times. It was completely normal.

Except it wasn't.

I couldn't understand it, but I knew, deep down inside me that something had changed. I didn't know what it was, and I didn't know why it had changed. It was just ... different.

Mom sat down next to them on the couch and put her arm around Uncle Bob.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

That confused me. I knew she was talking to either Uncle Bob or Shannon, but that question didn't make any sense to either of them. I mean they were just sitting there.

Uncle Bob said, "I don't think so, Lulu." Then, to my sister, he said, "You need to get off of me, honey."

"Why?" asked Shannon.

"Because you're growing up," he said.

By now I was really confused. But I didn't have time to think about it, because when Shannon didn't climb off of his lap, he put his hands around her waist and lifted her off his lap, like she didn't weigh hardly anything. He put her on Mom's lap, sort of. I mean her arms and legs were kind of waving around and she was squealing. I think his hands tickled her a little bit maybe. And Mom was trying to hug her too. Uncle Bob stood up and he looked normal, except he was really red in the face and his penis was sticking out.

"I'm sorry!" he blurted.

Mom sort of rolled Shannon off her lap, and she slid off the couch onto the floor with a squawk while Mom stood up.

"Come on," she said, reaching for Uncle Bob's hand.

"I'm really sorry," he said, kind of pleading.

"I know," she said. "Let's go get you taken care of." She turned and looked first at me and then at Brinn, who was standing there looking just as confused as I felt. Shannon was sitting on the floor, looking up. "You three stay right here!" she said. She sounded like she was mad, like she sounded when she was going to take one of us into the bedroom for a spanking, and would then come back for somebody else. We usually got in trouble together, and when one of us got spanked, we all did, pretty much.

Except she wasn't mad. I could tell. She wasn't happy exactly. I could tell that too, from her voice, but she wasn't actually mad.

So anyway, she dragged Uncle Bob into their bedroom and closed the door.

I looked at Brinn, who still looked confused, and then at Shannon, who was in the act of standing up.

"What happened?" I asked, to the room at large.

"Mom threw me on the floor!" said Shannon, whose voice suggested she was about halfway to being outraged. Shannon was the drama queen of our family. She got outraged at lots of stuff. Everybody thinks triplets are all the same, especially identical, but even if they're fraternal, but they're not the same at all. Shannon was the emotional one. Brinn was the serious one, who loved reading and learning and making things. He was the one who analyzed things and wanted to know how they worked, or why they happened. I was the adventurous one of us. I climbed higher in the trees, and didn't mind picking up snakes and all that. I could have fun in a bare room, just by trying to see how bare it really was.

"She didn't throw you on the floor," I said. "She just got you off Uncle Bob's lap."

"Yeah, but why?" she complained. "I wasn't hurting anything."

"Why'd he say he was sorry?" asked Brinn.

"What did I do?" complained Shannon. "Why'd they have to throw me on the floor?"

"They didn't throw you on the floor!" I insisted. Don't ask me why I felt like I had to defend the adults, but I did.

"Didn't I just have to get up off the floor?" argued Shannon.

"Shhh!" said Brinn, waving his hands. "Listen!"

Shannon and I stopped talking and we heard Mom's voice, through the door. At first it was just mumbles, but then she yelled "Stop it, Bob!" She didn't sound hurt or anything, but Brinn started toward the door.

"Brinn!" I whispered. "She said to stay here!"

"I know," he said. He kept going. When he got there, he stared at the edge of the door and then leaned over and put his face right by it.

Of course within seconds, Shannon and I were there too. I could see that when Mom closed the door it hadn't latched. The house was pretty old, and sometimes doors didn't work quite right. It didn't matter, usually. Most of the time nobody closed doors for anything anyway. In a house full of nudists, there's usually not a whole lot of need for privacy. We girls changed our tampons in private, but only because Mom said it would gross the boys out if they saw us.

So anyway, instead of putting his ear against the door, Brinn was looking at the crack in it. I could hear better too, now that I was closer to the door.

"It's not your fault, Bob!" I heard our mother say. "After all, you're a man."

Uncle Bob's laughter barked, but it didn't sound like he was happy.

"I should be able to control myself," he said. "She's just a girl."

"Bob," said Mom, and she was using that extra patient voice that we knew so well. She used that when we knew something, but didn't want to admit it and she was determined to get us to do that. "How old was I when you got interested in me as a girl?"

There was this long silence. He finally spoke and I could just barely hear him. "Twelve."

"And she's almost twelve," said Mom.

"I'm not fourteen any more, Lulu!" he said, really loudly now. They must have realized they were loud because his voice got softer. "I'm thirty one now, and I felt like a pervert when I was fourteen!"

"I know that," said Mom. "You were so cute back then, trying to be a good boy. Just like you're trying to be a good boy now. I think that's what made me fall in love with you. And I still love you, Bobby. I'm not mad. You reacted like any guy would."

"We have to start wearing clothes," he said. "At least if I had clothes on my fricking boner wouldn't have shown."

"Bob," said Mom again, in that patient voice. "They're growing up. Remember that disastrous session we had a week ago? We didn't handle that very well. And I put them off, just like every other parent probably does. But they are growing up, and we need to be honest with them. They're already living with a huge secret, because of us. They don't need any more confusion."

"Shannon doesn't need that much truth," he said. "She doesn't need to know she affects men the way she does."

"Bob, honey, you got an erection. She was naked. And she's at that age where she's beginning to flower physically. So is Kylie. And Brinn gets erections. I'm surprised he hasn't gotten them for his sisters. Do you think I don't know why men get so excited when they see little girls all dolled up?"

"I don't want to get excited over little girls," said Uncle Bob. "I don't want to get excited over anybody except you."

"Awww," she said, and it was quiet for a bit. Then she said, "Come here, Tiger. You're sweet, but you haven't been stiff like that this long just because of me. I'm telling you, men are wired to respond to women, even very young women. But just because you got hard doesn't mean you actually want to have sex with her. I know that, Bobby. You just need to believe it too."

"I do!" he insisted. "I don't want to have sex with her. So why did I get this fucking boner?"

"Because you're a man. And don't worry about your boner. I think I can take care of that. Right now, in fact."

Believe me when I tell you my mind was whirling, just about then. I'll get to an analysis of that in a second. But then Uncle Bob said something that just blew me away.

"So I get hard for your daughters, and you fuck me limp ... is that the deal?"

Mom said, "That sounds like a wonderful plan to me, lover."

Chapter Two

I need to take a little break here, just for a few minutes. That's partly because what happened next still gets me hot, and I remember it like it was yesterday and my panties are getting a little damp. Well, they would be if I was wearing any. But that's not the point. The point is that over the years I've thought about this a lot, and even talked with several men about it.

You see, most people would agree that a grown man who finds an eleven or twelve year old girl "sexy" is a pedophile. I think the primary reason for this is that girls at that age still have the primary features of a really little girl. Their pudenda are bare, and look little different than that of a baby, really. They have no breasts to speak of, but there might be swells under what are usually pale areolas and undeveloped nipples. But their other features are anything but babyish. All that baby fat is gone (assuming they have an active lifestyle) and they are often described as "coltish" because their arms and legs are growing, and they're full of energy. Some girls are a little awkward at that age, but most have fluid movements. They can sit on the floor and stand up without using their hands or arms. They run like the wind. Their hair is healthy and shiny, and their faces telegraph what they may look like in half a dozen years.

In effect, you can look at an eleven-year-old girl and pretty well imagine what she'll look like when she's sixteen, and almost ripe.

And for men, it's that imagined ripeness that is attractive. They don't want to bang the eleven-year-old. They want to bang the sixteen-year-old they can see she's going to become. Think of it like walking into a house where dinner is cooking, and it smells so delicious you want to eat right then and there. But it isn't finished cooking yet, so you get chased out of the kitchen.

And the truth is that if you did eat right then ... you wouldn't be happy with it. It would not meet your expectations. But it smells so good, it almost overpowers your common sense.

So it isn't at all unusual for a firmly non-pedophile to observe the promise that shines forth in a young girl. Nor is it perverted for him to appreciate, in his mind, that her future holds many a lusty, lustful man, trying desperately to get into her panties.

And that attitude - of imagining a woman's potential as a sexual partner - lasts almost forever. Go to a wedding, where the bride is all dolled up in white, to proclaim and emphasize her innocence ... her lack of sexual experience ... and just about every man present will imagine in his mind being on the honeymoon to come, and making that "girl" squeal.

At least that's what my male friends all tell me.

Of course we didn't know all that back then, when Shannon and I were eleven, and had no thoughts about sex at all, really. Well, I suppose there was some curiosity about it, but it was really vague and insubstantial. It wasn't like we were eager to find out what sex was like or anything.

But that would change. And it would change much sooner than we would have imagined.

That needs to wait, though, until the appropriate time. Which is not now. Right now you need to know what happened after we heard our mother and Uncle Bob arguing about whether or not he was allowed to lust after Shannon and me.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

They stopped talking, and all three of us kids leaned fractionally closer to the crack in the door, trying to listen. I heard wet smacking noises that I knew were produced when they kissed. I'd heard those noises hundreds of times.

I think it was Brinn who pushed the door open a little more. I don't know if he intended to, or if his head just hit the door and it opened a little. But it did open a little more.

And then it opened a little more again.

And suddenly we could see them. Well I could, so I assume Shannon could too. Brinn's face was right in the opening of the door, so I know he could see them. He was stooped over a little and I was looking right over the top of his head.

Mom was just lying back on the bed, putting some pillows under her head. Her legs were spread wide. Uncle Bob was on his hands and knees, crawling between those wide spread legs. He leaned his head down to kiss her tummy, and then sort of slid his lips up to her left breast. He opened his mouth, and then he closed it around the tip of that breast and his cheeks hollowed out, and I realized he was sucking.

That was new. I had seen him touch her all over before, including her breasts, but he had never put his mouth on them. And the way she arched her back and closed her eyes and grinned made it really clear that she liked him sucking her there. It was amazing. He switched breasts and did the same thing to the other one and she arched her back and put her hands on the back of his head.

"I need you now," she moaned.

He stood up on his knees and knee-walked a little closer to her. His penis was sticking out straight in front of him, kind of angled up a little, and when he fell down, with his hands just under her armpits, that penis seemed to fall and land on her split.

I should mention here that Mom shaved. We didn't know that then. All us women looked the same down there, and we thought that's just how women looked. That probably had a little bit to do with why Uncle Bob thought we were sexy looking. I shave now, but it isn't to look young. I do it because I like how it feels, and so do my lovers. But it does make a woman's sexual organs look younger. Funny how we have all these mixed signals in this culture.

Anyway, his penis landed on her split and her hand came and grabbed it and moved it between her split and he pushed that long, hard penis inside her.

I know I gasped. At least I heard a gasp, and I felt the air rush into my lungs. Maybe the others gasped too, because it was loud. But at the same time my mother groaned and when she groaned I got the strangest feeling in my tummy. It was like something inside me turned over somehow. It felt delicious, but it was so strange that I didn't know what to think. And in any case, I didn't have time to think, because I was so shocked that that thing actually fit inside my mother. Yes, I know I told you we had seen it come out of her out by the swimming pool, but that was a surprise, and it had happened so fast it got foggy in my memory right away. But the time we could see it actually happen. And yes, I knew, academically, about how the penis goes in the vagina and all that, but the only thing that had ever been in my vagina was a tampon, and that was skinny. But when I had a tampon in, I felt stuffed. And Uncle Bob's penis was five times bigger than a tampon. So I couldn't believe it fit inside her. And yet that groan had been full of joy and happiness, and not pain. And then, he pulled it out, looking all slick and shiny and shoved it right back in hard enough to make Mom's breasts jiggle and her whole body move a few inches, and she hissed, "Yessssssss," and that thing that had turned over in my belly flip-flopped again.

There was more, much more, that first time we kids actually saw what "making love" actually meant. We were glued to the opening in that door and I know I couldn't have moved if the house had been on fire.

At this point it becomes kind of a blur in my memory. I think my mind was overloaded or something, back then. The only other thing I remember was that at one point Uncle Bob was panting real loud and he said, "Is it safe?" and Mom groaned, "No!" and the next thing I knew he had pulled his penis out of her and it hung there, over her split, as it shot little strings of something white onto her stomach. And he was whining, and she was too, and neither of them sounded happy anymore. Except that they did, somehow.

It was all very strange.

And then Mom turned her head and saw all three of our faces in that open doorway.

Her mouth opened, but by then we were already almost knocking each other over trying to back up from the door. The paralysis was gone, and we tore out of there. We went to our room, for some reason, and for the first time in a long time, Brinn closed the door. I know it was Brinn, because when he turned around, his eyes wide, and he stared at us ... his penis was hard.

I know that it's already been pointed out that Brinn got erections back then. But Shannon and I had never seen one of them. At least I hadn't. I wasn't looking at her, to see if she looked surprised. I was looking at Brinn's erection. It looked pretty much like Uncle Bob's, except in miniature. And it didn't point upwards. It just stuck straight out. He was just beginning to have a discernible lump of something in his ball sack, which had just been a smooth pouch of skin before this. In the next year it would turn into something that looked like it could hold a walnut, but it wasn't there just yet. Still, it was obvious he was hard. The foreskin looked funny because it stuck off the end of his penis like ... I don't know what. Maybe if you took a sock and cut the toe off, and then slid it onto something round. Except the sock was too long, so the end of it pooched off the end. It looked funny. Not laughing funny. More like weird funny. Which was why I wondered why I had the urge to reach out and touch it.

Nobody said anything. We just stood there. I know this sounds like an overreaction, considering that we'd seen them smooching a hundred times, and seen them making love too. We just hadn't understood they were making love. That's why Brinn asked them if they were having sex that time. We were just making the connection between what we'd been seeing, and things we'd heard about, but weren't really familiar with.

Except that now we were familiar with it. We'd just seen exactly what it meant to "have sex" or "make love."

And we didn't get a chance to talk about it either, because the door opened, slamming into Brinn's backside, and knocking him towards us.

Mom stuck her head through the open door and looked around it.

"Sorry," she said. I think it was an automatic apology.

She came on in. She was naked, as usual, but for some reason it seemed different. I looked at her nipples, which looked completely normal, even though Uncle Bob had been sucking on them. I guess I expected them to look different. And then I looked at her split, and other than being a little redder, maybe, that looked normal too. I said her split looked the same as ours, but there was a difference, actually. Hers had some extra skin hanging down a little bit between the same puffy lips Shannon and I had. Sometimes it hung down farther than others, and sometimes it was thicker. It was that way now, thick, and hanging down further, and darker colored.

"Are you guys okay?" she asked.

That seemed like a strange question. We were expecting to be yelled at. I know I was, anyway. But a lot of strange things had been happening lately, so this was just one more.

"You shouldn't spy," she said. "It's not polite."

We just stood there. I don't think any of us had any idea what to say or do.

"We won't do it again," said Brinn, suddenly.

She looked at him, and I saw her eyes dip downwards. My eyes did the same thing. He was still hard.

"Oh my," said our mother.

She turned around and left. Just like that.

We still didn't move. We were still standing there when Uncle Bob came in. He was still naked too, and for some reason I looked at his penis. It looked normal now, kind of shriveled up, and lying there on top of his ball sack. He had a really big ball sack, that had brown hair poking out from it all over the place, like a bird's nest or something. He looked at Brinn, and said, "Come with me, Sport. We have to have a little talk."

Brinn left with Uncle Bob, and Mom came back in. She went to the bed we all shared and sat down on it.

"Oh boy," she sighed. "What a mess."

I think Shannon might have been freaked out. I told you she was a drama queen, right? And when she got all wound up about something, she could get pretty weird. She did that now.

"We just cleaned our room, Mom!" she shouted.

Mom blinked, and looked at Shannon, whose face was red.

"That's not what I meant, honey," she said.

"I'm confused," said Shannon.

"I can imagine," said Mom. Then she shrugged. "I guess it had to happen sooner or later. I just hoped it would be later."

"I'm confused too," I said. And I really was confused. All those things I'd heard them talking about were whirling around in my mind like leaves in a tornado. I couldn't concentrate on any one thing, because it was moving too fast, and something else kept getting in the way.

"Maybe I can help," said Mom.

And, over the next half hour, our mother went over everything we'd seen, and explained what was happening, and what it had all meant.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

To say our world expanded that day is an understatement on par with saying that if you fall twenty feet out of a tree it might hurt. But at the same time, having all those blanks filled in was really liberating too. Understanding what had happened made it seem less weird, somehow. And knowing that someday, we would do the same thing with some man wasn't scary or weird or anything like that. It was really on the same level as knowing we'd get a driver's license some day, or go shopping by ourselves someday. It was exciting, but not all that hard to wait for. You know?

Of course we didn't actually understand it all. Not really. It's impossible to truly understand that kind of love without experiencing it for yourself. But we thought we understood, and that made us feel better about everything. You've heard the term "Fat, dumb and happy" before, right? That's what we were at that point.

Once she was finished, and we didn't have any more questions for her, she got up, looking tired.

"Are you guys okay now?" she asked.

This time we both nodded. Shannon smiled, and I realized I was smiling too.

"And you know that if the boys get erections, it's just a compliment to you ... right?" she asked. That had been part of her talk, when Shannon had asked why Brinn got an erection after watching them make love. She had said Uncle Bob's initial erection, when Shannon sat on his lap, and Brinn's erection was just their way of saying that they thought we were all pretty.

We nodded again.

"And if your uncle tells you not to sit on his lap, you know it doesn't mean he doesn't love you."

"Actually," said Shannon, "it means he does love us ... right?" I could feel my eyebrows rise. I must have missed that part of the explanation. What followed proved that Brinn wasn't the only child in the family who analyzed things. "I mean if he got an erection for us, and it went into us, and his sperm got in us, we'd have a baby, and he doesn't want to give us a baby ... right?" she went on.

Mom looked kind of shocked. But then her face relaxed.

"Actually, yes. I suppose. He loves you enough that he doesn't want that to happen. I never thought of it that way ... but yes, you're right."

"So he'll only make a baby in you," Shannon went on.

For a second there, I thought Mom almost looked wistful, but then she clamped her lips together. "No, Darling. My baby making days are over. You three are quite enough for me. We're just practicing ... in case Bob gets married some day and wants to make babies with his wife. Yes, that's all we're doing is keeping him in good shape in case that happens."

"I don't want Uncle Bob to get married," said Shannon.

"Me either," I chimed in.

"Well, let's worry about that bridge when we actually come to it. For now, the important thing is that I need to be sure you understand how things are."

"We get it," said Shannon.

"Are you sure?" asked Mom.

"You get to have sex and we don't," said Shannon. "Not yet," she added.

Mom looked a little flustered. I said, "We get it, Mom. You and Uncle Bob are in love, and you're acting married. And married people need some privacy sometimes. We won't spy on you anymore. And if either Uncle Bob or Brinn get an erection, we know that's just normal."

She looked relieved. "Okay! Yes. Good," she said. She left.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Mom was barely out of the door when Shannon turned to me and said, "I have to ask you a question."

"Okay," I said.

"Do you have a bump right here?" She put her index finger right between the very top of her split.

"Bump?" I asked.

She bent over a little and pulled her split apart with the lower fingers of both hands. Her two index fingers pointed to an irregularity on the pink skin that was exposed. I knew, then, what she was talking about. I had that same irregularity. I had discovered it while taking a bath, when Mom told me to wash good between my legs. I hadn't thought of it as a bump, before, but that made sense now. It did swell if you rubbed it. And rubbing it felt good.

"Yeah," I said.

"Did you feel like rubbing it when you saw them doing that?"

I thought back. All I could remember was that flip-flopping going on inside my stomach. I shook my head.

"Oh," she said. "I did."

"I felt funny here," I said, pointing to my abdomen.

"Me too!" she said. "And I wanted to touch my bump."

"It does feel good," I said. "To touch it, I mean."

We were interrupted by Brinn, who came in then. He had a strange look on his face.

"You'll never believe what just happened to me," he said.

"What?" we both asked.

He looked back and forth at us, looking kind of amazed.

"Uncle Bob taught me how to rub my penis until it hurts so good you feel like you're going to die!"

Such was our introduction into the secrets of sex.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

As you can tell, the adults tried to protect us, at that tender age of almost twelve. They had to tell us a lot, but of course it takes a lifetime to learn everything and, after all, we were not intended to copy what we saw, or put into practice what we had learned. And, in one sense, from the point of view of the adults, that seemed to work.

We didn't pay overt attention to them when they cuddled, after that day. You notice I said overt. Whatever they were doing at any given time, there was one of us watching them, though. Of course we all told each other about what we had seen. And sometimes, we could all watch, because they got carried away and ignored the whole world. Mom thought she was sly, sitting on top of him like she did so often, just rocking back and forth, like she was just teasing him. But by then we knew what to look for, and if his penis wasn't lying on his belly ... then it must be up inside her ... right?

I don't want you to get the idea that we were chomping at the bit to enter the world of adult sexuality. We were not. While we easily adjusted (in my opinion) to the fact that Mom and Uncle Bob were practicing making a baby, neither of us could imagine what that might be like. It's one thing to know you'll drive a car some day, but entirely another to imagine what it will be like. You ride in one, but you instinctively know that actually driving it will be very different. We assumed the same thing about sex. It was one thing to understand what was going on, and to have seen it up close and personal. But doing it? We just couldn't imagine ourselves that way.