My Unconventional Life

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Chapter Eight

The next morning, Mom pulled me aside and said we were going for a walk. We put on shoes and took the path that went to the spring that watered the ranch. I don't think she knew what to do. That's because she said, "Kylie ... I don't know what to do."

I had a pretty good idea what she was talking about, but I said, "About what?" anyway.

"About you having sex with your uncle," she said, patiently.

"I didn't actually have sex with him," I said. "I just sat down on him and he accidentally went in me."

"He told me you wouldn't get off," said Mom.

"Oh," I said. How do you explain something like that to your mother?

"Kylie, honey, I was sixteen once. I had sex for the first time, once. I've been there, honey."

I expected her to tell me a story, or make a point. But she stopped, and we trudged along for another twenty five yards or so.

"Why do you need to do anything?" I asked.

She stopped. Her mouth was hanging open.

"Because you could get pregnant!" she said, heatedly.

I got a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach that my mother somehow knew about all those pills that had gone down the toilet. Why else would she be worried that he'd gotten me pregnant? I didn't know what to say, so I fished a little bit.

"Well ... if he got me pregnant, then that's already done, isn't it?" I asked.

"I'm not talking about last night!" she snapped. "I'm talking about the next time!"

Now that was interesting. I hadn't thought there was the possibility of it happening again. I mean everybody had been pretty upset about it last night, you know? I wanted to confirm that there really would be a next time, but I was afraid if I gave her any wiggle room, she'd recant or something. I went with safe.

"Oh," I said. "Right."

"You're too young to start having sex," she said.

Again, I felt like if I argued, her position would just get harder and harder. Instead, I tried humor.

"I'm not sure how to go about taking it back," I said.

"And now that this has happened, who knows what ideas Brinn will get in his horny little mind," she muttered.

I could tell her what ideas he had in his admittedly very horny little mind, but I didn't think that would help. Her comment about getting pregnant, however, came to mind and I realized that while I didn't think Uncle Bob had much of a chance of being a daddy (at least with me) it was a whole different story with Brinn. And Shannon might beat me there. She'd waked him up in the middle of the night to play their new game again. And every time Brinn was in one of us, he eventually got around to that grunting little chant that my mind knew meant he was squirting for all he was worth. The problem was that, while I had a fair idea of how many pills I'd skipped, I had no idea if Shannon was skipping them too. It had never come up in conversation, you know?

But I couldn't tell my mother about Brinn. She'd already banned him from the bedroom once. She'd for sure do it again if she knew he had started crawling between our legs and was practicing making babies just like she and Uncle Bob were. I decided right then and there that I needed to be much better about taking a pill every day, from now on.

"Well ... we are on birth control," I said. I hadn't actually planned on saying it. It just sort of popped out while I was thinking. Maybe it was hopeful thinking. It was the safest thing to say, come to think of it.

The look on her face wasn't happy.

"The pill doesn't work all the time," she said. "I thought I told you that."

"Yes, but we weren't having sex then," I said, also automatically.

"We?"

I tried to deflect. "Habit," I said. "I think of everything as us."

She bought it, but went on. "Honey, the best kind of birth control is not having sex."

"I know that," I said. "It's called abstinence. They talk about it at school all the time."

"So why don't we try that for a while longer," said my mother.

This time it was my voice that said, "We?"

She blushed.

"Well not me, of course. I'm grown."

"So it's okay if the pill doesn't work for you," I said.

She didn't buy that one.

"It's not the same and you know it," she said, her voice level. "If I get pregnant, it's an inconvenience, but it won't ruin my life. I love Bob, and he loved me even when I was so stupid that I swallowed what Chuck was selling hook, line and sinker. Your uncle is the finest man I know, and to be completely honest with you, if I did want to have a baby, I'd want it to be his! You, on the other hand, have many, many things to do before you start having babies. You have to finish high school. You're going to have the chance to go to college, because your uncle has set aside money for that. We could never have done that on our own. When you've paid your dues, and have your feet firmly under you, then you can think about having sex!"

She'd gotten pretty wound up, and usually I'd just let her natter on when she was like that. But now she was suggesting that I stay celibate until I was like what? Twenty five or something? That wouldn't let me stay quiet.

"Mom, I'm not waiting until I'm a quarter of a century old to have a sex life," I said. I meant it too.

She stopped like her feet had gotten in some kind of instant glue. She looked at me with shock on her face.

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

"Well, it's what you said," I argued.

"Well it's not what I meant," she insisted. "What I meant was that I don't want you chasing your uncle around, trying to get him to have sex with you every day. Give the poor guy a break. You girls are beautiful, and he's just a man, after all. Okay, so you had an accident, and yes, I understand that trying to close the barn door won't get the cows back in the barn. Or something like that. I'm no good at this stuff." She put her hands on her hips. "Just don't sleep with him more than once a week, okay?"

She looked confused. I could understand that. She had just said I could have sex with Uncle Bob once a week.

"Wait!" she said.

"Deal!" I yelled.

"No, Kylie!" insisted my mom. "Wait. That's not what I meant."

"No way," I said, smiling. "You said once a week. A deal is a deal."

"I didn't mean to say that!" she wailed. "I got upset. It was just a figure of speech."

"Mom," I said, going to her and hugging her. Her naked flesh against mine didn't bother me at all. I think we were used to that by now. "Stop worrying. It was an accident. We didn't set out to have sex. And okay, it was interesting and all that, but it was so fast I hardly even remember it now. I'm not going to try to take Uncle Bob away from you. Chill out, Mom!"

"I'm not worried about you taking him away from me!" snapped my mother. "I'm worried about the same thing happening to you that happened to me."

"Well I'm not going to get drunk and ..." I stopped. I had a terrible taste in my mouth. It hadn't been her fault, but I had just made it sound like it was. "I'm sorry," I said.

But the damage was done. Her face hardened. She looked at me.

"Don't do anything you'll be sorry for later," she said, quietly.

And then she turned and stomped down the trail, back toward the house.

When I got back to our room, Brinn was on top of Shannon.

"You sluts!" I complained.

"I can't help it," moaned Shannon. "It just feels so gooood!"

Brinn just grunted. He was sperming her and didn't want his concentration to be broken by talking to me.

"I hope your pills work," I said.

"I ran out last week," she panted.

"Stupid!" I said. Of course the only reason I still had pills was because of all the ones I had forgotten to take. I think at that time I was taking a pill two days and then skipping a day. It wasn't intentional. I just didn't think about it, that's all. Mom hadn't checked the pill situation in a while, and I was behind on getting rid of the extra ones. I went and got one now, and took it back to my slut sister.

"Open wide!" I ordered. Brinn was still moaning and moving around on top of her. Sometimes he sounded like a puppy right after he spurted one of us full.

She opened, I dropped and she swallowed. I left the room and went to find Mom. Her mood wasn't any better, but that didn't matter now. I knew her mood would be really foul if Brinn got one of us pregnant.

"We both need refills on birth control," I said, just biting the bullet.

"I'll see to it today," she said.

Then she ignored me.

So all was not perfect in paradise. I hadn't seen Uncle Bob all morning. I didn't figure it would be politically correct to ask where he was. Since Brinn and Shannon were probably still busy (he could go twice in a row when he was motivated. He still can) I decided to go saddle the horse and go for a ride. I didn't want to go back to the room and get clothes, though, because my brother and sister were probably mating again, but I had on shoes already, so I just went out to the barn and saddled the horse.

Riding naked is interesting. For one thing, without a bra or shirt on, your breasts do the strangest gyrations. You can't canter too long or your boobs will get really sore. And, of course, if you let yourself get excited, and you're not wearing panties or pants, then you leak right on the slick leather of the saddle itself. And your slippery skin slides around really well, which means you get a heck of a clitty massage.

So by the time I went around a turn in the trail, and came upon Uncle Bob, who had taken the four wheeler up into the woods to cut some trees and turn it into firewood, I was pretty fired up.

He was dressed, of course. Clothing can be very functional in terms of protecting your skin. It's just more fun not to wear it when you don't actually need it.

He was handsome, standing there looking all Paul Bunyan-ish. It was the first time we'd seen each other since his big, stiff penis had slid up into my currently very horny pussy.

"Hi," I said. I was panting slightly.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Wrong?"

"You look flushed," he said. "And you're panting."

"Oh," I said. I tossed a hand. I could always just be truthful with Uncle Bob. "I'm just horny, that's all."

Perhaps I should rephrase part of that last comment. I had always been able to be truthful with Uncle Bob. Apparently, things had changed a little. He just stared at me and didn't comment. I realized that, in light of what had happened between us the night before, that might have been an indelicate way to phrase things.

"I mean I'm just excited," I said.

"Right," he finally spoke. His discomfort seemed to fade slowly away, and it was replaced with something that seemed almost like curiosity.

"So what was last night all about?" he asked.

"You mean the accident?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Was that what it was?"

"Of course it was," I said. "You don't think I meant to lose my virginity that way, do you?"

"I never really thought about how you might want to lose your virginity," he said.

"Oh," I said. "Actually, I didn't either. I mean I knew it would happen one day, but I didn't really think about how it might happen or anything."

As soon as I said that, my mind supplied the memory of how it had happened ... those first few wild moments when Brinn jumped on me like a bear, and shoved me full to overflowing with his hard prick. Uncle Bob's penis might have been the first to go on me, but I considered Brinn to be the man who actually took my virginity.

"So you haven't thought about having sex?" he asked.

"Well ... sure, I guess. I mean a little. But it just seemed like something that wouldn't happen for a while, I guess."

"I guess I messed that up for you," he said.

"Oh, you didn't mess it up," I said, automatically. Then I put my hand over my mouth. That was also automatic. "I mean I don't think of you as messing up anything," I added. It sounded lame even to me.

"If I didn't," he said, thoughtfully. "Then who did?"

I sat on the horse, trying to pretend I was on a mountain top, alone. He was watching me, and his face changed.

"The only other man around here is your brother," he said. "Don't tell me Brinn has ..." He didn't finish.

Now I was afraid it would be Uncle Bob who sent Brinn away. So I ran my mouth, trying to defuse the situation.

"He wanted to, but we wouldn't let him," I said urgently. "But then, after you went in me ... I mean the damage was done ... right? And he wanted to so bad, and when you were in me it wasn't bad at all. I even liked it, except it went so fast, and then Shannon butted in. So I wasn't a virgin any more, and we didn't think it would hurt anything any more ... because I wasn't a virgin any more ... you know?" I finally ran down.

He just stood there looking at me, with his face all serious.

"So where was Shannon during all this ... experimentation?"

I blinked. I could try to lie, but while we had been in the bedroom getting our socks fucked off by our brother ... I didn't know where he had been. So if I said she was someplace and he knew that wasn't true, that would not further my cause. And he already knew that every time he'd done something to me, Shannon had come along asking him to do it to her too. He knew we shared everything.

"She watched," I said as softly as I could.

"I see," he said. "And is that all she did? Watch?"

I was caught now. It would be better to just throw myself on his mercy.

"No," I said.

"So you weren't a virgin any more, and that was your excuse to let Brinn ..." He still didn't finish. "Don't tell me Shannon lost her virginity some way we don't know about, and felt like it was no longer a problem for her either."

"When he did it to me, she made him do it to her too," I admitted.

"Well, at least you told me the truth," he sighed. "Does your mother know?"

"No!" I gasped. "And you can't tell her. She thinks I want to have sex with you already. And she got so upset that she said I can't sleep with you more than once a week. If you tell her about Brinn and us, she'll freak completely out!"

He was silent for so long I began to wonder if something was wrong.

"She said you could sleep with me once a week?" He finally said.

"She didn't really mean it," I said.

"But she said it?"

"You sound like me," I said, hiding a smile. "I told her the same thing, but she made it quite clear she didn't mean it."

"So you were arguing that she had to honor that?"

Now I blinked, and stared at him.

"It's an easy question, Kylie," he said. "Do you, or do you not want to sleep with me?"

"It's not an easy question," I said. "I love you. I think you're handsome. I love it when you touch me, and when you give me an orgasm, I want to blow you until your brains fall out." My hand went right up over my mouth again. I know I blushed, because my face felt like it was on fire.

"Go on," he said, with a half smile on his face.

"Of course I'm curious about ... things," I said. "Now, I mean. Before, I just wondered what it might be like. But after last night I kind of know more about what it's like, and I guess I might be a little more curious now." I blinked at him several times. "About you, I mean," I added.

He looked right at me and said, "You know, Kylie, I've wanted to fuck your sexy little pussy since you were about twelve. But I knew you weren't nearly as grown up as you looked, and that you wouldn't really understand what was going on. Not to mention that it would have broken your mother's heart. But she knew how I felt about things. I didn't hide that from her. Our sex life was already as fucked up as a sex life can get. And we were trying to be parents to you guys, but we didn't know how to do that either. I guess you have to learn how to do that on the fly. And I worried, Kylie, that what we were doing with you and Shannon might go horribly wrong. And I never knew how you felt about all this." He picked up a towel he'd brought with him and wiped his face with it. "Until now, I didn't know if I had hurt you or not. But listening to you just now, I realize you're okay. I didn't fuck you up. And while your life isn't anywhere near normal, as that word is defined by most people, I feel amazing relief that you're as well adjusted as you appear to be."

He walked up to the horse and put his hand on my bare thigh.

"Are you really okay?"

"You mean about what happened last night ... the accident?"

"That, and everything else. Are you okay with how your relationship with Brinn has changed?"

Things had gone so well that I think the relief of all that kind of oozed out of me.

"It wasn't such a huge change, really," I said softly.

"Really?" He looked interested. "You want to tell me that part too?"

I thought about it.

I decided it would be good if our secret wasn't so secret any more.

So I told him everything.

It's really amazing when a man you've known all your life actually starts thinking of you as a woman, rather than his lover's little girl. It was hard for me to grasp, at first. I mean I had known Uncle Bob for my entire life, and part of my understanding of him was that he and my mother had a sexual component to their lives. Then there were the bits and pieces of my own life that had Uncle Bob in them in a sexual sort of way. And he had always known almost everything about me.

So when, after that day on which I revealed to him the complete extent of my sexual experience, he began treating me differently, I had a hard time comprehending why he was doing that. By "differently" what I mean is that he looked at me differently somehow. I could just tell. His eyes lingered on me, for one thing. It wasn't much, but it was different. And when he hugged me, his arms and hands felt different. His kisses were a shade longer, and after every single kiss, even a simple 'good morning' kiss, my nipples were erect and my belly was tingling. There was just this something about him that made him seem like, suddenly, he was a lion, somehow. I know that sounds stupid, but I could really tell. It was all very little changes, but they added up to something that puzzled me.

He was still Uncle Bob, but he was ... well ... just different!

I eventually found out. It's a guy thing, as it turns out. Apparently, when a guy looks at a girl or woman, there's some little part of him that has a little checklist, and that checklist automatically gets filled out. He doesn't even have to think about it, though most men do, a lot of the time. And what that checklist is all about is whether or not he wants to sleep with her. I've met a lot of guys and knowing that little tidbit of information has been both valuable and entertaining as hell. I've met guys whose checklist only had two things on it. "Is she female? Is she breathing?" And then I've known guys whose checklist was substantially longer than that. I kind of prefer the latter.

Now that sounds simple, but it's not. Not really. And that's because that checklist can have hundreds of boxes on it, and some boxes are more heavily weighted than others. Some guys have a box where if the hair is red, it counts for more than other colors. I know one guy who, if the girl had red hair and wispy red pubes, he'd do almost anything to get her in bed. I know this, because it was at a time in college when I had dyed my hair red and he tried every trick in the book to get me in bed.

Anyway, there are quite often boxes that, if they get checked, are deal breakers for a guy. Like maybe the girl has buck teeth. Or bad breath, or her boobs are too small. Guys can be incredibly picky.

Look at me. Here I am calling guys picky when I'd only had two sexual partners in my entire life, up to that point.

The point is that one of the things on Uncle Bob's checklist turned out to be that if he knew a girl or woman had engaged in coitus, then it was pretty easy to assume that she might be interested in doing that again. And if the other things on his checklist got checked, then he hoped she might be interested in doing that again ... with him. The first time I got pregnant, Uncle Bob was like a little puppy, running all around me wanting to feel my belly ... and my boobs ... and my butt ... and everything else. He was insatiable when either Shannon or I were pregnant, because the evidence of our willingness to mate with him was right there, shouting out from our bellies.

And the other thing about Uncle Bob's checklist was something he called the "fertility quotient" of a woman. All women are infertile, during a portion of their lives. Most are infertile only when they are either too young, or too old for that kind of thing. Between those times, I suppose a woman is more attractive to a man simply for evolutionary purposes. But there are other reasons a woman might be infertile. Most of them are medical problems of one kind or another. And if Uncle Bob just happened to know she wasn't fertile, then he might have her as a friend for life, but not really think about her in a sexual way. If, on the other hand, she was actually capable of being impregnated, well that was a huge box, and weighted very heavily. It's not that way with all guys. Some guys won't touch a girl with a ten foot pole if she's not on birth control. But not Uncle Bob.

Brinn was a lot like Uncle Bob. In particular, he had that fertility quotient box on his checklist. We all lived in the same bedroom, and used the same bathroom. There was usually only one thing in the medicine cabinet in that bathroom, and that was Shannon's and my birth control pills. But Brinn didn't ever open the medicine cabinet, and, apparently, while one of us was popping a pill, he was combing his hair or something. Sometimes guys just don't pay attention. The point is that while he initially knew we were on the pill, he didn't pay enough attention to see us taking them, so his unconscious mind sort of 'forgot' and wanted to check the box that said "capable of being impregnated." I firmly believe that, and that that's why, when we first started having sex with him, that he went so overboard about it. He was trying to get us pregnant ... and didn't even know it.

Anyway, I didn't find this out until almost another whole year had passed. All I knew at that point was that something had changed, and suddenly Uncle Bob was a lot more ... I don't know ... passionate about things?

I know I'm making it sound like I was being all analytical about things, back then when I was all of sixteen years old. I wasn't. Not really. I mean there was an ongoing analysis of my life, and the people in it. That's inevitable. But that usually leads to epiphanies, rather than a constant conscious change to your thinking patterns. Life is a lot like a computer program, where every so often you get an upgrade and your brain reboots and suddenly you understand some things better, because your capabilities have improved.

What I mean is that I responded to his increased level of passion, and sexual interest in me, by teasing him. Why? Because it felt luscious, that's why. It made me feel beautiful when he got an erection, and in those heady days, he got one pretty much every time he saw me after he knew I was a fertile, sexually experienced (at least a little) young woman who had openly expressed sexual interest in him.

In other words, my mother was right. She was so much wiser than I gave her credit for. She had been where I was in life, and she did know what it was like to want a male sexually to the point that you didn't think straight. She knew that, once I had tasted from the cup, that delicious essence of life, I'd want to at least sip from it again.

I think the only reason I didn't jump Uncle Bob's bones within the next month was because every night, Brinn pushed his delightful rampant prick deep in my belly and gave me the orgasm I needed so desperately.

The only problem was that, because Brinn was fucking me every day, and fucking Shannon two or three times a day, he never had any extra semen left over for me to suck out of his penis and swallow. And I really missed that.

So that's what I'm going to blame for what happened next with Uncle Bob. That, and the fact that while he was more passionate in his little interchanges with me, he had stopped touching me in an overtly sexual way completely. There was no more finger fucking, or clitty diddling, or nipple love. My mom was gloriously happy, because he was on her about like Brinn was on Shannon. But suddenly I was too big to sit on his lap. Too heavy, he said, though I hadn't gained any weight.

Anyway, one day Uncle Bob said he was going to drive over to Mr. Johansen's ranch to get a pickup load of hay bales. It was September, and winter was coming and we didn't have enough hay for the horse to make it through.

"I'll go with you," I said.

"Okay," he said. "Get dressed."

I put on some jeans that were getting a little small, and a checkered western shirt. My nipples didn't show so much if there was some pattern in the shirts I wore. I only owned one bra at that point in my life. My mother made sure we both had a bra to wear to special events. Brinn was playing a video game, and Shannon was painting her toenails. I made Brinn braid my hair in a thick French braid, which didn't pull at my scalp and was quick. Neither of them wanted to go with me. I was pretty sure Shannon would dry her nails by lying on her back and putting her feet up in the air and waving them around ... with a leg on either side of Brinn's hips, if you get my drift.

I grabbed my cowboy hat and put on boots and ran out to the pickup.

There was something sexy about Uncle Bob when he was dressed. I know that might seem strange to most of you, but most of you aren't nudists, who are around other nudists a lot. For me, I saw way more of Uncle Bob naked, both literally and figuratively, than I did of him with clothes on. So the clothes on part was more exotic for me. It's probably opposite for you.

And I kept looking at him as we drove along the bouncy dirt road.

Pretty soon he glanced over at me and said "What?"

"Nothing," I said.

"Do I have spinach stuck in my teeth?" he asked, smiling. It was nine in the morning, and I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen him eating spinach.

"No."

"Then what?"

"You're handsome. That's all."

I saw his eyes drop to my chest, and felt my boobs jumping around, because of the roughness of the road. He was probably going too fast. Then his eyes went back to the road and stayed there. I kept looking at him, because he was fun to look at. It was probably a whole minute before he spoke.

"So ... are you and Brinn ... and Shannon ... still ... um ..." He kind of trailed off.

"Being naughty?" I asked, teasing him.

"Yeah," he said, his eyes straight ahead.

I made him wait. Don't ask me why. I was mildly turned on, and having fun, I guess.

"Yes," I said. "Shannon's a slut. They do it two or three times a day. I only do it at night, just before I go to sleep."

There was another long pause. Then: "Every night?"

"Sure," I said, my voice all chipper. "Don't you?"

He frowned. "I guess I do," he muttered.

"Mom seems happy about that," I said, still teasing.

He finally turned his head and looked at me. His eyes went to my bouncing breasts again, but only for a second or two before he dragged them back up to my face.

"I told her, you know," he said.

"Told her what?" I asked, not even dreaming to think that he might be talking about what went on in our bedroom.

"About you and Brinn and Shannon," he said.

Then I got it, and panic seized my heart. My life was over!

"When?" I croaked.

"A month ago," he said, calmly.

A month ago! I thought about that. I had only told him about us a month ago.

"You mean right after I told you?" I gasped.

"Yes," he said.

"But you promised not to!" I squealed.

"No I didn't. You wanted me to, but if you'll recall, I did not."

It was sinking in that my mother had known for a month that Brinn was climbing on top of us every night ... and had done nothing about it!

"I don't understand," I said, more to myself than to him.

"I wasn't going to keep a secret like that from your mother," he said. "We don't keep secrets from each other. When you're as close as we are ... you just don't. You should know that. Do you keep secrets from your brother and sister?"

"No," I said.

"Well ... there you go," he said.

We rode on in silence for a few dozen heartbeats. I could feel those heartbeats.

"So she's known ... all this time?"

"Uh huh," he said.

"But she didn't do anything!" I said, confused.

"What could she do?" he asked. "She already tried moving Brinn out. That didn't work out so well. She knows you won't stop - either of you - and if it isn't with Brinn, then it's going to be with somebody else."

I had a dark thought in my mind. "Like you?" I suggested.

Apparently he could hear the darkness in my voice, because he turned his head and looked at me steadily.

"It isn't like that," he said. "She wouldn't really mind if you went that path. She just doesn't want you going off and boffing strangers."

"What do you mean she wouldn't really mind?" I asked, zeroing in on that part of his comment. It was just ridiculous for my mother to think that if she took Brinn away from us, that we'd just go find some other boy to take his place. Ridiculous!

"Never mind that," he said. "I shouldn't have said that. I just wanted you to know that she knows."

Rather than argue with him about what he should and shouldn't have said, I inquired about the other part. If he'd told her all that time ago, and she had apparently been okay with it, then why tell me now? And she had been okay with it, now that I reflected on things. I had detected a difference in how Uncle Bob acted, at least around me, but I hadn't had even one clue that Mom know about us. So why had he told me?

"Why?" I asked, putting my thoughts into words, if somewhat abbreviated ones. I was actually curious.

"Because we all love each other," he said. "And there shouldn't be secrets between people who love each other. It's just not healthy."

"Oh," I said. I remembered how good it had felt when there were no secrets between him and me.

We rode on for another ten minutes, while I replayed everything he'd said in my mind.

"Why shouldn't you have said that?" I asked.

"Said what?" he asked.

"That Mom wouldn't mind if you ... um ... did that with us."

He let that hang in the air for another half mile.

"It's complicated," he said. "It would just be easier if we didn't go there."

"So you want to keep it a secret," I said.

Sorry. I'm female. We act that way. Get over it.

"That's not fair," he said.

"What's not fair is saying something like that and then not talking about it. It almost sounds like my mother actually wouldn't mind if you slept with one of us."

He stared through the windshield. Something told me not to push any more, so I didn't. Eventually, he spoke again.

"She wouldn't ... except that it's really complicated."

"You mean like only on our eighteenth birthday?" I suggested.

He laughed. "No, not like that."

"Then what?"

"She doesn't mind, because I don't do it," he said.

"Now that doesn't make any sense," I said. "That sound like adult logic."

"I suppose it is adult logic," he said. "Which is why I didn't want to talk about it, because I was pretty sure you wouldn't understand it."

"Explain it to me," I said, simply.

So he did. I won't bore you with the actual dialogue, but basically, it was like this. Mom had learned many things from being involved with Chuck. But the most important thing she had learned was that her brother loved her - unconditionally. He never scolded her, or reminded her of the mistakes she'd made. He just loved her, both while she was "gone," but more importantly when she dragged herself back home. He had loved her so deeply that she finally realized something that very few people ever learn. And that is that love - true love - is a bottomless well, from which bucket after bucket can be drawn, every day, all day long, and it will never run out.

Most people think of "true love" as being something that only happens between one man and one woman, one time in both of their lives. But that kind of love is exclusive. And it's selfish in a way, if you think about it, because neither of them will share the well with anybody else, even if they're dying of thirst. And if they fall out of love ... then it's over. Everything they believed is dust and ashes, and they often become bitter and stay that way the rest of their lives.

But true love is unselfish, and willing to share everything with anyone else who needs it. This is not to say that the guy should be able to run around fucking anything that doesn't have a penis, or vice versa. But it is to say that, if a woman knows, deep in her heart, that a man loves her dearly - and always will - that she no longer fears that some other woman will take him away from her. Especially not her two daughters ... who have their own live-in lover ... and probably always will.

After all, she had Uncle Bob, and she was sure, now, that she always would.

So that was how she had rationalized things when she found out her son was boffing her daughters. The fact that her brother was boffing her made that a lot easier pill to swallow, especially when you figure that she got started late, and had wondered from time to time if she might have been better off if she'd started doing that at the same age we had. She wondered if she might not have gone to that party, for example, if she could have stayed home and enjoyed herself in ... other ways.

But whenever she thought about things that way, she always remembered that, without that party, there would have been no triplets. And we were a good thing in her life.

He was right. It was complicated.

It was maybe more complicated for him. That's because he had not gone through Chuck in quite the same way. For him, knowing that Chuck was boffing her was not a happy thing. He had been jealous in the extreme. He just hadn't shown it. He had wanted to kill Chuck. He just hadn't done it. He had wanted to slap some sense into his sister. He hadn't done that either. He had actually loved some sense into her, but he hadn't thought about it that way.

So the problem was that while he knew, on an academic level, that Mom no longer feared us as potential rivals for what most people would think of as his limited affections, it was very difficult for him to believe on an emotional level that he could do something with us and it not affect Mom on some subliminal level.

He didn't want to hurt her. And while she now trusted herself ... he wasn't sure he trusted what she professed to believe.

Mom wasn't the problem. Uncle Bob was the problem.

And he knew all this, again, mostly on an theoretical level. He knew he loved Mom, and he knew he loved us. He knew how he felt about Mom sexually, and he knew how attracted he was to Shannon and me. He just didn't believe that such an unconventional relationship would actually work.

This ... from a man who happily lived a nudist lifestyle, and took his own sister as his lover, living with her for all intents and purposes as husband and wife. And rubbed sun block on his nieces until they had orgasms. At the suggestion ... sort of ... of their mother.

He didn't think that was unconventional?

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