Flossie's Revenge

by Lubrican

Chapters : Foreword | 1-2 | 3-4 | 5-6 | 7-8 | 9-10 | 11-12 | 13-14 | 15-16 | 17-18 | 19-20 | 21-22
23-24 | 25-26 | 27-28 | 29-30 | 31-32 | 33-34 | 35-36 | 37-38 | 39-40 | 41-42 | 43-44

Chapter 11

While Marian and Harvey had made up over the "tiff" involving their son, he was still more or less withdrawn from the family. Like many men who think power will make them happy, had Harvey taken the time to evaluate things, he would have realized that he was not happy. Even then, he wouldn't have been able to put his finger on just what the burr under his saddle was. Harvey Wilson didn't have much in the way of philosophical musings in his life. He was used to making up his mind about what he wanted, and then getting it. While that was happening, more or less, at work, the only thing he was getting at home was sexual submission. Even that wasn't as satisfying as it could be, since his wife was such a wanton little thing in bed. He didn't have to conquer her that way. But in all the other ways he wanted to 'rule' at home, he was frustrated. But, as was already said, he didn't think about that. All he did was get meaner.

His children, though, went in the complete opposite direction. The more they saw of the world, and the people that populated it, and the more they learned about life, the more they questioned the social tenets they had been taught as children. They were, for example, excruciatingly aware that the health class they had just attended had broken all kinds of social rules, at least as they had been taught those rules. Still, what they all felt was glee ... glee at having been able to confront a mysterious and troubling subject in the open light of day, with somebody around who actually knew the answers, even if she didn't seem to want to give them up all that easily. And the promise that they would learn even more in the days to come made them almost giddy with the excitement of getting that information.

When the kids got home that day, they were still digesting the information they had gotten in health class. They were unusually quiet as they sat down at the kitchen table for their regular after-school snack.

"Mighty quiet in here," commented their mother.

"Long day," said Nathan.

"After all that working for sixteen hours a day, you think sitting in school is a long day?" she asked curiously.

"Work is different ... I guess," said Nathan. He was wary. Like most children he was aware that parents seem to have eyes in the back of their heads sometimes, and the thought that his mother might somehow find out about the class, and jerk them out of school, worried him a lot.

"So," said their mother, just making conversation. "What did you study in school today?"

All three children squirmed in their seats.

"Oh, just some history, and reading ... stuff like that," said Bernadette, shooting warning looks at her siblings.

"Oh? What kind of history?" asked Marian, still just trying to make conversation.

"Did you know a Negro woman invented that thingy that they use at the beauty shop to curl our hair?" blurted Hilda Mae, dredging up the first thing she could think of that might head the conversation away from what they actually studied that day.

"You're joking!" laughed Marian.

"No! Really!" said Bernadette, climbing on board anxiously. "It's true. Her name was Madame something or other, and she invented a whole bunch of creams and powders ... Oh, I can't remember the right word for them ..."

"Cosmetics?" asked their mother, turning to face the girls.

"Yes!" squealed Hilda Mae. "She invented cosmetics!"

"What in the world does that have to do with history?" asked Marian, flabbergasted. "If it's even true."

"It's true!" said Nathan, leaning forward in the back seat. He too was trying to keep the subject going. "Miss Flossie has a book and its full of pictures of people who invented things."

"So it's Miss Flossie, now ... is it?" asked Marian. "When did this happen?"

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room.

"It almost sounds as if you like this ... teacher."

"She's okay," said Nathan, sensing trouble. "I mean she talks about all kinds of things, and sometimes it's interesting."

"I see," said Marian. "And does she ever say anything good about a white person?"

"Oh sure," said Nathan as carelessly as he could. "All the time."

"Such as," probed their mother.

"Well, Eli Whitney, for example. He invented the cotton gin."

"Well everybody knows that," snorted Marian.

"I didn't," said Hilda Mae, trying to help out. "Not until Miss Flossie taught us that."

"Hmmmm," mused their mother. "I must learn more about what this ... Miss Flossie ... is teaching you. Your father insists you're not learning anything of value. Perhaps I should find out for sure."

She pulled her apron off. "I had to go to the market today, so I have the car. I need to pick up your father. Bernadette, if you'd start the beans cooking that I left on the stove. I've already put a roast in the oven. Hilda Mae, I need to teach you how to make biscuits. It's high time you girls started helping out around here. You need to learn to cook and sew and such or you'll never catch a husband." She looked at her daughters, both of whom were looking back at her with startled expressions. As Marian left, Bernadette heard her mother say something else. "As if you could find anything around here anyway."

"What, Mamma?" asked Bernadette leaning out into the other room.

Her mother jerked her head around to face her daughter. "What? Oh ... nothing, dear. I was just talking to myself."

The Wilson siblings weren't alone for two minutes before they were whispering about their mother's suggestion that they weren't learning enough in school. They had stopped talking about school at supper, because it usually got their father on a rant.

"What are we gonna do?" asked Bernadette. "I don't want to have to quit going to school now!"

"Just answer her questions," said Nathan. "You're smart ... smarter 'n me."

"Why thank you, dear brother," said Bernadette smiling. "But I'm not sure that's true any more. You're listening a lot better in this school than you did in the last one."

"That's because we get to talk about things that are interesting," said Nathan.

"Like sex?" asked his sister, grinning.

Nathan didn't say anything for a long stretch of seconds. Then he cocked his head.

"Think about it Bernie," he said, calling her by the nickname he had used when they were small. "Would you have even said that a week ago?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Would we have even talked about sex a week ago?" he asked.

Her eyes got wider. "I guess not, huh?"

"Before we came here, would you have ever even thought about saying in public that you heard me through the wall?"

"I'm really sorry about that Nathan, honest," pleaded his sister. "I just got mad and it sort of blurted out."

"I'm not upset about that," he said calmly. "I was then, I admit, but not now. Look what happened because you said that. I learned more about ... sex ... today than I learned in my whole life before this. I can even say the word. Sex. Sex sex sex!"

Both girls were shushing him, looking around. Nathan started dancing around in the kitchen chanting "sex!" in a singsong voice. Bernadette went to the window, as if she expected to see people outside, listening, while Hilda Mae chased him, trying to hit him.

"Would you shut up!" she yipped. "What are you gonna do if the neighbors hear you?"

"See there!?" he crowed. "Here I am dancing around and yelling that word, and you're not upset about it. All you're worried about is the neighbors. That's what I mean. Our lives have changed, and it's Miss Flossie who did that!"

"So ... is that bad?" asked Bernadette, troubled.

"No!" said Nathan explosively. "It's not bad. I feel alive. I used to worry about stuff, because I didn't know what was real and what wasn't. I used to think I was the only boy in the whole world who got a stiff ... " He stopped. "pe-nis" he pronounced carefully.

Hilda Mae giggled.

"What would you have done if I'd said the word pe-nis a month ago?" asked Nathan. "Right in front of you, like this?"

"I got to see your pe-nis a month ago!" laughed Hilda Mae. "And it was stiff as a board then!" She shrieked as Nathan grabbed for her, but it was all in fun. Hilda Mae began marching around the room, chanting "Pe-nis, pe-nis, I saw Nathan's pe-nis."

She knew enough to put the table between them, and as he went one way, she went the other, darting back and forth, laughing, while Bernadette stood to the side and laughed with her. Then Nathan vaulted the table, using muscles he'd built up over the summer. Hilda Mae wasn't prepared for it, and he caught her as she whirled to run. His hands went around her waist and she squealed and struggled. In the process she tried to drop to the floor, and his hands slid up to cup her fifteen year old breasts, which were full and firm under his hands.

"Na-than!" she squealed.

He let go immediately, and she whirled to face him. He expected anger, but instead she stuck out her tongue at him.

"I saw Nath-an's pe-nis," she chanted softly. "I guess it's only fair that you get to feel my boobies." Then she reached out and brushed her hand over the crotch of his jeans, squealed like a stuck pig, and turned to run and hide behind Bernadette, who was standing with her mouth open, completely overwhelmed by what she'd just seen.

Nathan's mouth was hanging open too, and he looked down. He was wearing corduroy pants that particular day, and they were loose. As he looked, he saw the bulge made by his obviously stiff penis. He hadn't even felt it get that way. He looked up to see his sisters staring at the front of his pants. With a look of horror, he covered his crotch with both hands and ran for his room, slamming the door behind him. He threw himself on the bed, ashamed. First he had imagined his mother, and now he had gotten hard because of his sister. There had to be something wrong with him. He was a pervert ... mentally ill. There was a light tap on the door and his head jerked up.

"Stay out!" he screamed.

"Nathan? Please? I'm sorry!" came Hilda Mae's voice through the door.

"Go away!" he screamed.

She apparently did. He didn't go outside his room until his mother came and ordered him to come to supper.

"What's eating him?" asked Harvey, nodding to Nathan, who sat, looking at his plate.

"He had a hard day at school," said Hilda Mae quickly. "We did math, and it was hard."

"What kind of math could that nigger teach you that's hard?" asked Harvey, putting his fork down.

"Fractions," said Hilda Mae immediately. "Multiplying and dividing fractions. And she started teaching us something called Algebra. I never heard of it before. It's hard for all of us."

In fact, Flossie had spent two weeks easing the older children into Algebra, while she planned her health class. She would normally never have talked about variables and algebraic equations, but she needed something that would challenge them so much they'd forget about 'health' class. It worked. Only Curtis Lee and Bernadette seemed to catch on easily. Ruth Ann just wasn't interested, but she followed along. Nathan could see how this new thing could be valuable, but he had a hard time memorizing the formulas. Hilda Mae was the same way.

Harvey put down his fork and looked steadily at Hilda Mae.

"That's a damn lie," he said sternly.

"Harvey!" gasped Marian.

He looked at her. "It is. There ain't no nigger in the whole world that can understand Algebra."

"Daddy," said Nathan casually, "They have niggers up in the big city that teach college, and they teach algebra there."

"That whore probably told you that," said Harvey, his face getting red. "That cock-sucking whore is filling my children's head with bull shit, and I have had about e-nough of it!"

"Harvey!" shouted Marian, almost rising from her chair.

"Give me your pen, Daddy," said Bernadette, holding out her hand. She looked scared, but her voice was steady.

"What?"

"Give me your pen!" she said, her voice louder.

He responded out of habit, more than anything.

"Now, give me a number." Bernadette waited. Finally her mother blurted out "sixty-one". It was 1961, and Marian had just looked at the calendar earlier to plan a day to go over to the library.

Bernadette wrote on her paper napkin, scribbling a series of calculations. She finished and handed it to her father. "That's the square root of sixty-one to four decimal points. Is that correct?"

Harvey stared at the napkin. His lips moved, and he reached for the pen. It was plain he was struggling with the numbers in his head, and he made a half dozen pen strokes on the napkin. His eyes bulged.

"How'd you do that?" he gasped.

"That nigger woman taught me how to do that," said Bernadette calmly. "Not all niggers are stupid, Daddy. And Miss ... that nigger woman knows a lot of things. It's school, Daddy. Aren't we supposed to learn things?"

Thankfully, Harvey was too flabbergasted to hear her almost slip, and use the ... honorific ... "Miss" that Bernadette had slipped with. Her mother did not miss it, and she frowned. Harvey stood up.

"I'm goin' to bed," he said heavily. He looked at the napkin, his hands hanging limply by his sides. "I had a hard day. I'm goin' to bed."

He turned and trudged to the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"That was a very foolish thing to do, Bernadette," said her mother. "You embarrassed your father."

"He embarrassed himself!" said Bernadette, before she snapped her mouth closed and looked down. "I'm sorry," she said instinctively.

Marian looked at her children. Only two of them were looking back at her, but the look in their eyes was something she had never seen before. It was challenge. And it wasn't the kind of challenge that a young child shows when he wants something he can't have, and throws a tantrum. This was clear-headed thinking. She felt a shiver go down her spine.

"You'll drive your father to do something we'll all regret," she said softly.

"Why does he have to be that way?" asked Nathan.

Marian, to her credit, knew what her son was referring to. She herself had been raised in a racist family, and accepted most of the things she was told without thinking about them. But she had been around the block. She well knew how important ... and positive ... Annie had been in her children's lives, while she was out being the banker's wife, having tea and going to garden parties. The world was changing, though Harvey tried not to believe that.

"It's the way his world has always been," she said softly. "Change is hard for a man as stubborn as your father is."

"Is change hard for you too?" asked Nathan.

"That remains to be seen, dear," said Marian. "You three are growing up much faster than I had anticipated, and that, I admit, is difficult for me to accept. I know in my head that it has to happen, but my heart just aches when I think of what you are going to have to go through as you reach adulthood. Some of it you can't control. I daresay your father is one of those situations. Please don't push him. I'm not sure he can take that."

"He pushes us," said Bernadette, lifting her head finally.

"A mamma bird pushes her fledglings out of the nest," said Marian.

"It's not the same," said Bernadette. "It's almost like he'd rather we be stupid than learn something from Miss Flossie." She said the honorific with the name on purpose how, to see what her mother would do.

"Well, it's plain to see that ... she ... is teaching you much more than we thought she would." Marian frowned. "I'm proud of you for learning so much, even if I don't have the faintest idea what Algebra is, or why you'd need to know it. Your Daddy will be proud of you some day too. Just give him time."

"I don't think he'll ever change," said Nathan. "Maybe not," said his mother. "But just remember ... he's the only father you've got. Just try not to push him too far. That's all I'm asking."

All three children heard, and were shocked by the fact that she was actually 'asking' them to treat their father in ways that wouldn't embarrass him. An apron string came loose, just then, though none of them thought of it in quite those terms.

"Now," said Marian, rising. "I need to go spend some time with your father and soothe his wounds. I would be appreciative if you three behaved yourselves, and didn't bother us for the rest of the night."

It wasn't as loud this time as they had been the last time the children listened in, but even so, it was clear that what was going on behind their parents' bedroom door was something that was fun for both of them. Rather than shouted words, this time, there were moans, and sighs, and soft voices that they couldn't understand clearly.

Bernadette caught Hilda Mae listening at the door first, and tried to pull her away. Hilda Mae got her to listen, and she stayed. This was what they had talked about in school. Before they had thought only of their father, hulking over their mother, something no child thinks of easily. But the unexpected softness in their mother ... her flexibility under stress, if you will ... made her into someone they didn't quite know like they thought they did. And their father's capacity for tenderness, which they could hear through the door, made him into a man they didn't know either. Now it seemed as though they spied on two strangers ... lovers ... people without faces.

Nathan got up from the table, where he had sat, thinking. He had thought more and more, recently, about the possibility of the police academy, and striking out into the world as a man of value. Just the unformed thoughts about a life outside this house were exciting to him. He had sent off the letters, like Flossie had told him to, but had heard nothing back yet. Now this tenseness ... this pretending to be someone you weren't while you were at home ... it made him think about being able to leave, and about how positive that might be in his life.

As he walked to his room he saw his sisters, leaning over, listening at the door of his parents' bedroom. He didn't have to wonder what they were doing. His memories of the last time, and his mothers cultured reference to what he now knew meant "sex" made it clear what the girls were listening to. He had no interest in listening himself. He already felt guilty about the strange feelings he had that time, thinking about his mother ... and sex.

He intended only to get them away from the door. The last thing any of them needed was someone opening that door from the inside, and finding them there. He kicked off his shoes, and walked quietly past them, making them jerk as his shadow fell over them. They stood up, wide-eyed, and he got between them and the door.

"NO!" he mouthed, opening his arms and herding them away from the door. They grimaced, but he was insistent. He herded them all the way to their room, and pinned them against the door. He was astonished, as his body pressed them against the wood, that he was aware of how soft they felt ... how good they smelled. Bernadette's hair was right in his nose, and he breathed deeply.

"Go inside," he whispered. "Leave them alone."

"Come with us," whispered Hilda Mae.

She turned the knob with one hand, and pulled at his sleeve with the other. Surprised, he followed her into the room, pressing Bernadette against the door jamb in the process.

"Hey!" Bernadette objected, as his body scraped across the front of her body.

"What?" Nathan asked Hilda Mae as she pulled him farther into the room.

She suddenly let go, and blushed, looking around.

"What?" he repeated.

"I wanted to know ... it's just that ..." Hilda Mae stopped and fanned her face with her hand. "Is it hot in here?" she asked.

"What are you talking about?" asked Nathan, looking at her like she was crazy.

"It's just that ... listening to them in there ... it makes me feel ... I don't know ..." She looked at her brother and sister. "Is this that tension that Miss Flossie was talking about?" Her hand swept up to her breast and, without realizing what she was doing, she squeezed the tip of one tender breast.

Nathan goggled at her. She looked down and jerked her hand away.

"I feel all ... something inside!" she whispered harshly. "And last time you got ... you know ..." She looked at the front of his pants.

"Hilda Mae!" he whispered harshly. "You stop that this instant! I'm your brother, for pity's sake!"

"Yes!" she hissed. "But you're also the only boy I could ever even think of asking!" Her eyes flashed and her face got even more red.

"Asking what?" moaned Nathan, frustrated because he didn't have a clue what she was talking about.

"To see it you dummy!" she said in frustration.

"See what?" he asked, frowning.

"Your penis, of course!" she snapped in a whisper.

"Hilda Mae!" moaned Bernadette, covering her face with both hands.

"Don't you be like that. You want to see it too!" hissed Hilda Mae, tossing her head. "I know you do!"

"Shhhh!" went Nathan, his head reeling. He didn't feel well at all. This was too much for his adolescent mind to comprehend. He had just been feeling guilty for feeling ... things ... about his mother and sisters, and now this?

"Oh, pleeeease Nathan?" Hilda Mae went into begging mode. "All we want to do is see it."

"You already saw it," he gasped. "In the bathroom."

"Yes, but not very well. Oh please, Nathan. I want to see what Miss Flossie was talking about. I feel so wiggly inside, and I just know that if I could see it I'd feel better."

"No!" he whispered, looking around the room for somewhere to sit down. His knees felt weak all of a sudden.

"Ohh pleease. We won't touch it or anything," she pleaded.

Nathan's head rocked back, and if he'd been standing closer to the wall he would have smacked it hard.

"Of course you won't touch it!" he said scandalized.

"But we can see it?" said Hilda Mae in that way women have of assuming that you have agreed to one thing by denying another.

Nathan looked at Bernadette, who was peeking out from between spread fingers that were still partially covering her face.

"Say something to her!" he demanded helplessly.

"Ooooooo" moaned Bernadette, covering her eyes again.

"See!" said Hilda Mae, grinning. "She wants to see it too!"

"Bernie?" whispered Nathan, feeling like he was in a dream.

She peeked through her fingers again, but didn't say anything.

Nathan suddenly experienced what, these days, we might call "peer pressure" in one sense. Somehow, having two sisters wanting him to do something crazy didn't seem quite so completely outrageous as it had when only one was suggesting it. It was clear that Bernadette was not denying it, even if she was acting like she was horribly embarrassed. It was easy to take her behavior to mean that she did want to see his manhood.

Nathan loved his sisters. He also lusted after them, at least to some degree. Had he been offered the opportunity to see either of them naked, he'd have jumped at the chance. It wasn't because they were his sisters, really. He'd have jumped at the chance to see any woman naked. But, like many young men, the only females he had constant access to were his mother and sisters. Her comment about how he was the only boy she could have access to came back to him. It sounded so pragmatic. He was there. He had a penis. They already knew him and felt safe with him.

He closed his eyes tightly and pushed the heels of his hands against them until he saw bursts of light. How could this suddenly seem so ... reasonable? He knew it wasn't reasonable, but how could he get them to understand the same thing? The answer came to him in a flash. He almost smiled when he thought about what their faces would look like. He couldn't do it here, though. They might make a lot of noise if his idea worked.

"Just for a little bit?" wheedled Hilda Mae.

Nathan took his hands away from his eyes. He faced Bernadette.

"Do you really want to see it too?" he asked.

"Ooooooooo" she moaned again.

"Bernadette, answer me!" he insisted. "This is the craziest thing I ever heard of in my whole life, but if ..." He stopped. Her hands came away from her eyes, which were filled with tears. They were wide open, and were glistening.

"You mean you would?" she whispered.

"Only if both of you want to see."

Bernadette looked at him, her mouth twisted. Then she looked at Hilda Mae, who looked anxiously back, her eyebrows raised, pleading in her eyes.

She nodded fractionally, and then closed her fingers over her eyes again.

"Okay," said Nathan. "But not here."

Bernadette's hands came away from her face in a flash and she stared at him.

"What would you do if Mamma or Daddy came in here?" he asked. "Do you think they would approve of this?"

Bernadette shook her head back and forth.

"Then we'll have to go find someplace where nobody can catch us," he said.

"Where?" asked Hilda Mae.

"Come with me," he said. "I think I know a place."

"You're serious?" asked Bernadette, her voice high.

"I'm crazy," said Nathan. "But I'm not going to be crazy in your bedroom. Are you coming or not?"

"Yes!" they said in tandem.

It was mid October, still quite warm in their part of the country, but it was getting dark. It was late enough that most folks were home, eating dinner, or maybe watching television. Nathan led the girls to the truck park, to the fire barn. He opened the door and stepped in. It was dark inside, because there were no windows, and the girls hung back, peering into the unknown.

Nathan reached inside the door, up high, and his hand appeared with a lantern. He reached up again, and came back with a match.

"How did you know about those?" asked Hilda Mae.

"This is where I lived while I was out of the house last summer."

"You're kidding! How come you didn't tell us?"

"I wasn't exactly proud of living in the fire barn," he said, smiling.

He lit the lamp and led them inside. The corner where the cot was, was cozy, and the lamp light filled it softly. They stood there, looking at each other for a minute or two, and then the girls sat on the edge of the cot, side by side, as if they were making up an audience.

"So what now?" asked Nathan. He had taken them to this place intentionally, not just to get them out of the house. That was a valid reason, but the more important purpose was to give them time to calm down and think ... to change their minds. When they didn't answer, he asked "You still want to do this?"

Hilda Mae nodded, wide-eyed.

"Why?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said softly. Her eyes looked troubled.

"What if I wanted to see you?" he asked.

"Me?" she squeaked.

"Both of you ... naked. What if I wanted you to be naked, so I could look at you?"

"We couldn't do that," she whispered, going pale.

"Why not? You want ME to get naked so you can see. It's the same thing, isn't it?"

"I don't know." she said, sounding distressed.

"I think about you sometimes," he said. "Both of you."

"You do?" asked Bernadette. "How come?"

"You're both pretty. I see you around the house. I get horny sometimes ... and you're right, Bernie, I do jerk off. I think about seeing you naked sometimes ... while I jerk off."

"Nathan!" squealed both girls together.

"What's the big deal? You want to see my penis, don't you? Come on, I'll get naked, and you two can get naked, and that way we can all have some fun. Maybe I'll even let you touch it."

He expected them to run screaming from the building. That would be okay. They wouldn't speak to him for a while, but eventually he'd be able to tell them it was all an act ... for their own good. By then they'd have their senses back, and they'd understand that he had done the right thing.

What he didn't know about were the hormones raging through his sisters' systems. What he didn't expect was for Hilda Mae to stand up and take her shirt off.

Chapter 12

He stood speechless as his younger sister threw her shirt on the cot and reached behind her to unhook her bra. Like she'd done it a hundred times, she bared her young breasts to him. They were almost shockingly white, compared to the skin on her neck and arms, where the sun had burned her dark. Perched on those white orbs were nipples that sat on areolas that, together, were about the size of strawberries half grown.

"Would this be enough?" she asked, her voice sounding strange. "I don't really want to take my pants off."

Something else Nathan didn't expect was the almost overwhelming sense of lust that washed over him like a summer thunderstorm, that drenches you to the skin in seconds when you're caught out in it. His mouth felt dry, and the first thing he thought of was that those nipples would give milk for a baby some day. He was thirsty, and he licked his lips. That dream was back, and he was swept up in it. He felt the tingle that meant his penis was filling up, and watched, slack jawed as Bernadette stood and followed her younger sister's lead. Her breasts were bigger, more round, and her nipples were completely different looking. They were dark brown, and there was almost no areola around them at all. He stared at one chocolatey tip. A nickle would have covered the areola had there not been a stiff brown nipple on top of it, about the size of a pencil eraser. She, too, had creamy white skin where her shirt covered the flesh. It was almost as if they were wearing white shirts, with pictures of breasts on them. Both girls sat down on the edge of the cot.

"Now you, Nathan," whispered Hilda Mae.

The lust sang in his veins. He was male, and they were female. Gone was his carefully thought out plan to chase them back home like little girls. He was male, and he suddenly wanted to display his maleness. He wanted them to cry out with desire when he bared what made him a man. He wanted to preen for them ... impress them ... do the time honored mating dance ... all of those things that drive males of every species to try to impress the females. His hands fumbled at his belt automatically, and he bent over to push his pants down. He knew he'd feel foolish if he left his pants around his ankles, so he kicked off his shoes and stepped out of them. He was rock hard ... as hard as he'd ever been in his life, and he wanted to reach for it and stroke it. But he didn't. He stood up, turning until his back was to them.

"No fair, Nathan," sighed Bernadette.

"Be patient," he said, unbuttoning his shirt.

The girls stared at his ass, slim and hard. The muscles in it moved as he shifted his weight, and Hilda Mae felt a zinging sensation in her belly and a flood of moisture between her legs that she had felt only once before in her life. She had been so horny that time.

Bernadette was right there with her. As she stared at her brother's tight butt, her hand came up and she pinched one nipple gently, rolling it between her thumb and finger. She was getting wet too.

He postured for them, letting the shirt slide back off his shoulders, and down his arms, to drop behind him. Now he was naked, and the muscles in his back moved too, as he twisted around to look over his shoulder. He couldn't believe the feeling of power he had as the girls looked at him with something like hope in their eyes. Finally he turned, standing sideways to them and leaning back just a little, his hands on his hips. An errant thought zinged into his mind from where he held insecurity at bay. That thought made him wonder if his balls were tight against his body, or hanging down. Hanging down would be more impressive ... wouldn't it?. The twin gasps he heard banished that concern, and he turned to face them, taking a step closer. Both girls leaned back, their arms automatically going behind them to support them. All that did was put their breasts on display.

The girls had leaned back for the simple reason that, once they saw the whole package, it looked so dangerous, somehow, that it almost frightened them. Their lean was purely a function of self defense. At the same time, each girl had thoughts along the line of how some people feel when they see a thoroughbred horse. Its lines are so smooth, its muscles ripple, and it's just beautiful in a way that catches at the heart. Nathan's penis, proudly erect, a thick column of pale flesh, stood out no more than six inches, but it fairly burst from an explosion of brown hair that looked soft. His balls were, indeed, hanging down, one slightly lower than the other, and the ball sack looked huge to the girls. They had seen dog's balls, but those were so small by comparison with this!

It was everything they had hoped and dreamed of seeing. Their respiration doubled, and their blood pressure went up thirty points.

It had been quiet for perhaps two minutes when Bernadette broke the silence.

"You said we could touch it," she whispered.

That comment jarred his consciousness. "I did?" He didn't remember saying that. But suddenly, along with something soothing that eased its way through his penis to make a clear bead at the tip of his prick, the idea of them touching it appealed to him in a way that made arguing with himself seem a complete waste of time. He stepped closer, and Hilda Mae leaned forward first.

Nathan was uncut. When circumcision was mentioned at the hospital, Harvey had answered for both of them "We don't want no Jewish crap done to our boy!" His penis, therefore, had the appearance to Hilda Mae of being some kind of over-large hot dog, blunt at the tip, and basically the same size in diameter for its entire length. The tip looked almost odd, like there was something inside the skin that was trying to grow out of it. She had rubbed a dog's belly one time, at her friend's house in Atlanta, and the dog had spread his hind legs, his tail thumping. A pointed pink thing had begun to extend from a sheath of furry skin, and she was reminded of that as she stared at her brother's penis. This one wasn't pointed, like the dog's was, and it had a little slit in the tip that had a glistening bubble of liquid slowly welling out. But if the shiny skin around that little slit came out like the dog's had, this thing she was looking at would be almost twice as long as it was now. And it was different from the dog's in another way. The dog's sheath lay along its stomach. Nathan's stuck straight out, though it did point upwards a little. Still, it was already huge, in her opinion. She had never put anything in her vagina, but she was quite sure that nothing like that would fit.

"There's no way," she sighed.

"What?" panted Nathan.

"There's no way that would all fit inside a woman. It's too big."

Bernadette leaned forward beside her sister. "Are you going to touch it?" she asked, breathlessly. Their roles as older and younger sister, wherein Bernadette almost always took the dominant aspect, had suddenly reversed. Bernadette looked to her younger sister in this.

"Can you make the inside part come out?" asked Hilda Mae, still thinking of that dog, and wanting to see how long it would get.

Nathan didn't think about the suggestion that his little sister knew the foreskin would slide back. He just reached for his penis, closing his hand around the tip, and pulled toward his balls. The dragon's head emerged from its lair and both girls gasped. The uncovered knob looked so different from what it had before that it was almost startling. Now, instead of smooth lines, there were curves and bumps and ridges. The tip now looked like some kind of dull spear tip, smaller at the very tip, but quickly swelling to a wide ridge. It narrowed significantly just past that point, and then swelled back outward until, when it got to where his hand covered it, it was the same diameter as the wide crown.

The most natural thing for Nathan to do, as he stared at his sisters' bare breasts, was to slide his hand back forward, and then stroke again. He had done it three or four times, slowly, before he realized what he was doing. The wrongness of masturbating in front of his sisters seeped into his brain, and he took his hand away, wishing he didn't have to.

"Is that what you do when you ... masturbate?" asked Hilda Mae. She was flushed, and her own nipples had gotten larger somehow.

Nathan sighed. "Uh huh," he confirmed.

"Touch it," whispered Bernadette. She wanted to touch it herself, but couldn't make her hand move. She had spoken to her brother, but it was Hilda Mae who reacted. The younger girl lifted her hand and touched the tip with one finger, sliding it gently along the head and onto the shaft.

"It feels so soft," she said. "It doesn't feel like it looks."

With her thumb and forefinger, she tried to make the hood of skin go back, like he had done. He was so hard, though, that the skin resisted moving. Finally she wrapped her hand around it, like he had, and pushed. The head came into view again and Hilda Mae felt suddenly soaking wet between her legs.

"It's warm," she said. The hair around the base didn't tickle her hand like she had expected. It was soft and crushed easily. Her thumb hit the big sack that hung from his body and she let go of the penis to slide her hand under and cup the balls. She was astonished at how easily they moved, how fluid they felt in her hand, but at the same time she could tell that the hard little nuggets inside wouldn't give like the skin around them.

"Ahhhhh" moaned Nathan, automatically fearing injury when his nuts were gently squeezed. "Careful."

The nuts were fun to feel and play with, in their droopy sack, but she liked the feel of the thick hard shaft much better, and she returned to that. She stroked several times. She could see why Nathan liked to do this ... it felt good in her hand.

"Can I?" whispered Bernadette.

Hilda Mae reluctantly took her hand away, and Bernadette reached, wrapping her hand around it like her sister had. She gripped it tightly, almost as if she were trying to choke it. The bead of moisture at the tip got bigger, and white milky swirls entered it. It overflowed the slit, and began to run down.

"Is that ... sperm?" she asked, leaning closer to look at it.

"Ahhhh ... I don't know," panted Nathan. "I guess so."

"Is that all there is?" asked Bernadette curiously. Her hand slid back and he leaned forward.

"Not so tight," he groaned.

"Oh!" She loosened her grip instantly, and found that the skin moved much more easily. Instinct caused her to tighten again a little bit as she pulled the hood back over the head. More sperm oozed out and ran down to form a drip. Both girls watched as that drip strung out, then broke free, and fell to the floor.

"That little bit of stuff can make a baby?" sighed Hilda Mae, unbelieving.

"You have to stop now," groaned Nathan.

"Why?" asked Bernadette. She liked the feel of his penis in her hand.

"The rest is about to come out," he moaned.

"There's more?" she asked excitedly.

"Lots more," he panted.

"Make it come out." she demanded. "We want to see it."

So easily did the older sister take back the reins of leadership, once she was comfortable with the situation.

He turned sideways to them, and his hand grasped his member, stroking quickly.

"Doesn't that hurt?" asked Bernadette, amazed at how violently his hand seemed to move.

"Oh no," he sighed, jerking even faster.

"Turn around!" said Hilda Mae, who was almost to his rear now. "I can't see."

"No ..." He started to explain, but the sensation was already there. He felt the sweet pain that heralded what was about to happen.

Not understanding, both girls reached for his thighs, and, together, they forced him to turn and face them. They leaned forward in the process, and Bernadette's face was right in front of his penis when the first stream of spunk shot out. It hit her square below her nose, on her upper lip. Her mouth was slightly open, and a significant amount of that first shot got inside her mouth. Nathan had looked down, anticipating that first spurt. He liked to watch as it came out, and his horrified eyes took in the desecration of his sister's face. He clamped down on his prick instinctively, and pressure built as his body tried to keep sending semen down his penis. His feet were placed the wrong way to turn back. As they had moved him, his feet had automatically compensated, taking a step, and the only direction he could go was to his right. That brought Hilda Mae into range as the target for the second spurt, when he couldn't stand the pain and let the pressure off his prick. She had seen the fluid splatter on her sister's face, had felt drops of the stuff splash on her own shoulder. Her mind recognized the heat of the stuff first, then recoiled, naturally at what it was. She leaned back instinctively, and that caused the stream of thick, milky-white fluid that came her way to paint a stripe from her throat, down across her right breast, and onto her side.

Bernadette had fallen back, as if shot, to lie on her back, her hands coming to her face to wipe the offending matter away. All she did was spread it around as her brain realized it was inside her mouth. The indrawn breath she had taken as her face was splattered came whooshing out, and sperm-laced semen, mixed with her own saliva, exploded upwards like a geyser. The fountain of tiny droplets simply fell back to land on her chest, speckling her breasts. The slightly acrid taste had overtones of salt and somehow sweet at the same time, which was why her initial gag reflex calmed. It didn't taste like something terrible.

A tiny portion of her brain remembered, last year in Atlanta, three girls whispering and giggling about something one of them called a "blow job". She had never heard of a "blow job" before. Bernadette had instinctively known there was some interesting secret there, but she had also instinctively known that to ask what that was would make her the recipient of derision. So she had pretended that she knew what a blow job was, and just listened, trying to puzzle out more. She could tell, at the end of the whispered conversation, that it involved kissing a boy's penis, or something very near like that ... perhaps blowing on it for some reason ... but it hadn't made any sense to her. Now, with a new taste in her mouth, she remembered one girl saying "They sure love it when you swallow." That hadn't made any sense either, but her brain made the jump from that comment to this situation. As crazy as it seemed, the girl might have been talking about this very kind of thing!

The taste, her brain realized, wasn't offensive. Still, her reflex was to spit and try to clear her mouth, and she sat back up to do just that. Her hands were messy with the stuff, and she held them out away from her body helplessly.

For Hilda Mae, again, the first thing she felt was the heat of the stuff, all the way along that stripe of white that marked her body. She, too, fell back, and her head bounced on the tight canvas of the cot as her hands came up to wipe it away. That part was instinct. But what she felt when she put her palm on the stuff was a wonderful warm, slippery balm. As her palm crossed the nipple that had been splattered, it felt so good that she found herself rubbing the substance into her skin, rather than trying to wipe it away. She moaned at the delightful tingles, and her fingers kneaded her nipple, squeezing, never quite able to get a grip, because it was so slippery. Her left hand went to her other breast, and that one was dry. Her fingers pinched that nipple and she pulled at it, stretching it away from her breast. That kind of tingle had overtones of pain in it. The combination of different, but equally delightful sensations, caused her to keep doing it. She felt something like a cramp in her abdomen, and a rush of pleasure between her legs such as she had never felt in her life. The spermy hand flashed between her legs and she pressed hard, through her jeans, at the same spot she was unaware that Bernadette loved to press against on her own body. Hilda Mae had discovered that spot one night while she was bathing. She had touched and even rubbed it before, but it hadn't felt anything like this. Her whole body tensed, and a groan escaped her lips as she had the first real orgasm of her young life.

Nathan, of course, felt terrible. The joy and ecstasy of his own orgasm was curtailed almost instantly when he splattered his younger sister too. He let go of his prick, still turning, and his third shot fell limply to the floor, leaving the tip dripping. He moved automatically to the tiny sink on one wall, where a towel hung, still there from when he had hung it on a nail. He grabbed the towel and returned to his sisters. Bernadette was sitting up, her hands held away from her body, a strange look on her sperm-covered face. To his relief it wasn't outrage ... not yet anyway. He reached for one hand with the towel and began wiping it dry.

"I'm so sorry," he panted. "I tried to warn you, but ..."

Bernadette took the towel from him and wiped her face. Then she dabbed at her chest, wiping. The rough towel scraped across her nipples and her stomach flip-flopped. Her initial disgust had changed as her brain coped with the situation. What had gotten into her mouth didn't taste bad. What she had seen amazed her beyond anything she'd ever seen in her life. All things considered, she counted the whole affair as something exciting and worth having done ... something she'd surely never, ever forget. Still, if she could see those girls right now, she'd tell them they were nuts to think that getting your face splattered was something to look forward to. He had 'blown' all over her face, so now she knew exactly what a 'blow job' was, but she doubted she'd be asking Nathan to do that again real soon, no matter how much he might like it.

"It’s okay," she mumbled, her mouth still not empty. She swallowed by pure instinct, and then tried to stop herself as she realized what was about to go into her stomach. It didn't work, and she was even more amazed when her stomach didn't rebel.

She and Nathan both looked over at Hilda Mae, who was writhing, one hand between her legs, her head tossing back and forth. Her upper torso was shiny and wet looking in the lamp light. She looked like she was having an attack of some kind, and it sounded like it too.

Bernadette's eyes widened as she realized what was happening. She had had orgasms before. The first one scared her so much that she almost called out to her mother. But then, when that agony had passed, she had felt like she was floating on a cloud. She knew exactly what Flossie was talking about when she had mentioned the 'release of tension' and then the word 'orgasm'. She had immediately drawn the connection between what Flossie was talking about, and what she sometimes did in the dark of night, when her sister was asleep. She was just amazed that her younger sister could be experiencing the same thing.

Nathan leaned forward, his prick still dripping, concern on his face.

"Hildy?" he moaned, terrified that he had hurt her somehow.

"It's okay," said Bernadette, reaching for his arm. "I know what's happening to her. She's not hurt."

"Uhhhh ... feels so gooooood," moaned Hilda Mae, in her own world.

"What's wrong with her?" asked Nathan.

"Nothing. She's having an orgasm." said Bernadette.

"That's what I did too ... isn't it?" he asked.

"I think so," said Bernadette. "Did it release tension?"

"Oh yeah," said Nathan. "Except now I feel stupid, standing in front of you naked." He looked around for his clothes.

"No!" said Bernadette. "I like looking at you ... like this."

"Naked?" he asked. He relaxed. "I guess that makes sense. I like looking at you too."

"I'm not really naked," said Bernadette, looking at her jeans.

"I think that's good," said Nathan, smiling tiredly. "If you'd have been as naked as me I probably would have spurted a lot sooner ... maybe even in my pants."

"In your pants would have been a lot cleaner," she joked, wiping at her chest again.

"I'm really sorry about that," he said.

"It wasn't so bad ... once I got used to it." she said. "It tastes funny."

"Ohhhhh," moaned Nathan. He hadn't realized it got in her mouth. "I feel so bad."

"I said it was okay," said Bernadette firmly. "Next time we'll know better."

"Next time?" gasped Nathan. He felt his penis twitch at the idea that there might be a next time. All it did was twitch, though.

"Sure," she said softly. "I liked this."

"You're kidding," he said, disbelief clear in his voice. "I got it all over you!"

"Like I said, we'll know better next time."

Hilda Mae gave a long sigh and relaxed. Her head rolled to face her sister.

"Miss Flossie was right about not wanting to get up. That's never happened to me before."

"It was scary, wasn't it?" suggested her sister knowingly.

"Yeah," sighed Hilda Mae. "At first, anyway. Then it just felt too good to care any more. Was that really an orgasm?"

"I think so," said Bernadette. "If it was anything like the times it's happened to me it had better be an orgasm. I don't think I could take anything stronger than that."

"Did it happen to you this time?" asked Hilda Mae, wanting to share that feeling with her sister.

"No," said Bernadette. "When his stuff got on me I kind of freaked out. Besides, I have to rub ... kind of like you did."

"You've rubbed in bed ... haven't you?" asked Hilda Mae.

Bernadette flushed, but nodded.

"I thought so. I heard you. I do it too, sometimes." admitted Hilda Mae. "But I never felt like I did just a minute ago."

"Can I get dressed now?" asked Nathan. He still felt uncomfortable, now that the lust had been blasted out of his body, along with his semen.

"I guess so," said Bernadette. "We probably ought to get back home. I don't think Mamma will come check on us. I think she lies there too, after they ... " She blushed again.

"I can't imagine what that looks like," sighed Hilda Mae. "I mean Daddy and Mamma, naked." It was quiet for a few seconds as Nathan found his clothes and began climbing back in them. Bernadette reached for her shirt. Hilda Mae kept lying there until Bernadette threw her the towel. She wiped at her chest, almost reluctantly. "Do you think he really puts it inside Mamma?"

"He must have," said Bernadette. "The three of us here are proof of that." She suddenly stopped. She had swallowed some of Nathan's sperm. She felt sudden panic. She turned to Nathan, fear on her face. "Nathan! I swallowed some of your stuff! What if I get pregnant?"

Nathan's face twisted. "Can it happen that way?" he asked.

"I don't know!" moaned Bernadette. "It got inside me!"

"It got all over me," said Hilda Mae, looking down at her bare upper torso. "But I don't think that counts. I think it has to get in your ... pussy." She blushed. She'd never given word out loud to what she had between her legs.

"If I'm pregnant Mamma will just kill me!" said Bernadette.

"We'll ask Miss Flossie about that tomorrow," suggested Hilda Mae.

"How are we going to do that?" asked Bernadette, frustrated.

"Easy," said Hilda Mae. "I'll just say 'Miss Flossie, my brother got his sperm in my sister's mouth last night, and she swallowed some of it. Is that going to make her belly swell up with a baby?"

"This isn't funny," said Bernadette crossly.

"Maybe not," said Hilda Mae. "But it sure was fun."

The trip back home was very quiet.

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