Date: Tue, 3 Feb 2009 12:33:50 -0800 (PST)
From: Tim Stillman <novemberhourglass@yahoo.com>
Subject: incest/high school  "So This Is What Happened"

			 So This Is What Happened

				    By

			       Tim Stillman


(to Jason, a good and personal friend of mine)

I've never told this to anyone before. But its true and I can't make it
un-happen any more than I can make the sun not hot and yellow in summer
time. So. Here goes:

There were two brothers. Their names were Matt and Stacey. They were seven
and eight respectively. They had a sister named Anne who was my girlfriend
in ninth grade. We never did anything but go to movies and to the Dairy
Queen. We never kissed or hugged. We just hung out together and were
friends. I saw her brothers frequently especially when I came over to help
her baby sit them when her their parents were gone to a party or on
business or just away for a weekend. Anne was tall and slim. She had almond
shaped eyes. Her hair was brown. Matt was small and giggly. Stacey was the
more serious of the two but, like his bro, he could laugh and giggle when
being tickled by one or the both of them and by me. Anne would watch us,
sitting primly on the couch, she was, as I would sit next to her and tickle
her little brothers and give them the times of their lives.

They would kick their little legs up and they would wiggle their arms and
their little butts and their little penises would get hard and I liked to
touch them there too. For, you see, their family were naturists, save for
Anne. She was always clothed at home and everywhere. I don't know whether
or not she really had gotten to a point where she didn't see her brothers
naked all the time, or whether she was embarrassed and had just refused to
admit it, as the brothers, Matt touching at me and asking me to "lie down
here with us", and Stacey with his studious glasses and his half hidden
smile, would pull on my hand. I never had had sex with them before though
God knows the fantasies.

It was both normal for her and at the same time, it seemed she was blind to
it all, so when we were baby sitting, on the night in question, Matt asked
me to fuck him. Little contralto voice. I looked at the floor. He asked
again. I looked at Anne who kept reading. I kept my clothes on all the time
when I was there but had this constant erection and got turned on by them
in ways that Anne could never do it for me. I looked at her again, when
Matt said that once more, as she was thumbing through her parents' New
Yorker, for they were so very intellectual. Once more, she didn't react at
all to the question or to Matt's hopping up on my lap with his warm bottom
on me, his little stick out penis, and his arms round my neck as he kissed
me right on the lips, embarrassing the hell out of me as Stacey wearing
only his glasses, unzipped my jeans, after he told Matt to sit up a little
and grabbed my cock out and held it hard and rubbing it.

Now I don't know about you, but that seemed to be the very oddest
situation. We had never touched, the boys and I, sexually, we had never
acknowledged they were naked, but here we were, me sweating to beat the
proverbial band, and I did hear drum beats in my ears and my chest was
tympani pounding with my heart leading the parade, and my drum stick was
nicely played by Stacey while Matty was rubbing his hands all over me and
making me do the same to him. As this was happening, Anne said, to the
magazine, I guess, "I miss Thurber's cartoons in `The New Yorker,' he was
so very funny; Mom and Dad have some books of them and his stories; it's
such a shame he died so long ago." Ah, well, none of us here were any where
close to dead, at least the boys and I. She didn't even look at us, so what
the hell, I said to Matt and Stacey, let me take off my clothes and I will
fuck you, Matt, as they bounded off me and I stood and stripped.

There is a Herman Melville story called "Bartleby The Scrivener" in which
Bartleby just stands in a corner of this office and is like a human hat
rack, no one notices him, no one remembers he is there, sometimes he might
need dusting off--well, that described how Anne was. I mean here were Matt
and Stacey and me getting ready to have sex, and there was she in her blue
sweater and gray skirt and dark green button up blouse, her stockings and
shoes and she was just blithely reading along.

I looked at the boys and they looked at me, as we prepared our three ring
sex circus. Their little penises--Stacey's stuck straight out, Mattie's was
a bit to the left centered, their nuts were tiny and warm and they were so
sensuous when I stroked their bodies, especially their penises under the
top tip and at their very sensitive pee pee holes, and as I was later to
see, the pink of them was equaled by the pink of their butt holes, as now
Mattie was putting some salve on my hard on and told me to rub some on and
in him, which was so hot, doing that, and he giggled and sat back on me as
I played with his brown hard tits and Stacey was standing over us, rubbing
his penis on my left then my right leg. And we prepared to fuck.

Anne said, "Wait a minute." We froze in mid-throttle. I think her brothers
forgot she was there till then. I had almost forgotten. She put the
magazine delicately on sofa, opened to the page she had been reading, got
up, not noticing us, and brought back some towels for us to cum on, and
after we had re-adjusted on them, she picked up the magazine, sat in the
same place, mere feet away from us, and continued reading.

Now I was a shy kid, but I had seen them so naked for so long and lusted
after them so long, and we had played sexually/non-sexually at the same
time for so many months, I was ready and I was eager to lose my virginity
to them and I hoped they were going to lose theirs to me. I don't know.
Maybe there were other sisters like Anne who would sit there, reading The
Talk of the Town in silent amusement while her kid brothers and her
ostensible boyfriend, or anyone else, had sex, but I seriously doubt it.

I was in my doofus stage of life. My face had grown zits. One little cherry
berry right on the tip of my nose and I wore glasses and looked a lot like
the nerd emoticon, though I was not a nerd. I failed lots of subjects. Anne
however had one of those shiny aristocratic faces and she was an A student
for ever more and would be head of the world sometime soon, I had no
doubt. But it was my hormones and the sex and Matt's sitting on my dick and
pumping himself onto me as I pumped in and out and played with his tiny
stick up as Stacey put his mouth to where Matt's horn dog penis was in my
butt, as we were all screaming and panting and moaning away, and licking
each other like candy, as I quickly shot six jets of jism up Matt's tight
milk me butt hole, as Stacey licked up some cum that spilled out and then
after a minute's rest, Matt got off me and Stacey got on for his own thrill
ride.

I was shorter than Anne and a bit heavier and I really wanted, ok ok, her
to notice us because this was a hugely important time for me, one night
that would jump start my life in many ways, and I wanted her permission
because-because she was more like an adult than a kid, but it was not that
big a disappointment, though later I wondered if other boys had fucked them
in her presence and was this just a big yawn to her or was she just weird.

It was not because of her, for any of us. So I fucked Stacey and Matthew
had his mouth where Stacey's had been, and they dry came again with shivers
and I came a little more cum, which all left us pretty exhausted, so we
went to the bath to clean up and then I put on my clothes, the brothers
still naked, as they pulled out their homework on the red colored carpeting
and got to it, while Anne laughed quietly and dispassionately at, I leaned
over, a New Yorker cartoon, which made no sense to me, to her however it
was "so droll."

I tapped my fingers on my knees, looked at the naked boys on their
stomachs, their cute little bubble butts in the air, their legs up, feet
dangling and their scratching themselves and making jokes to each other
that made no sense to me anymore than that cartoon did, and then, boys and
girls, it hit me smack in the frontal lobe. I didn't know what the hell to
do. I couldn't really say look at the time, but I couldn't say anything
else, so I said look at the time, and they said good night to me, including
Anne, and Stacey said they needed a baby sitter next Friday, to which I
smiled I'm your--man..night guys. I had to go home and jack my Woody
again. It was tired and a little sore, but we had fun.

I guess I have to put a reason to all of this, so this is the only thing
I've come up with. I was to Matt and Stacey, as they were to me, as The New
Yorker was to Anne. No, not us as the New Yorker intellectuals, which would
be stupid. Anne was The Talk of the Town to herself. We were all
experiencing life the same way and a different way. We were, like all
beings, human and otherwise, trying to connect, and if we didn't understand
each other, we would some day, or maybe not, but we had been together and
had made each other feel good and I got the distinct impression from all
three of them that we would be doing this again soon and many times to
come, and I was right. Anne maybe understood the New Yorker cartoon and
what she was reading, some if not all, but more than that, it was a
connection to something of great importance to her---why was I attracted to
her little brothers? And why did they have sex with me? Because it felt
good. Because it made us happy.

So there it is, best as I can explain it. Anne and I still went to movies
and to the Dairy Queen and we didn't talk about this night or much of
anything else. But were still friends and she still let Matt and Stacey and
I try new sex things with each other and never interfered, but I wondered
if in the privacy of the night in her bedroom--well, it didn't matter. We
were all great friends and I wanted to get it down as best I could. Thank
you for reading this. Now to get to that damned essay for English
class. Man, I wish I could turn in this one instead.