Prologue: This story is based on events which were related to me by a friend over the period of 2 years … 20 hours of taped conversations which I have tried to condense into a story. It was important to her that I set up the historical perspective and the family dynamics before revealing the essence of their lives. So though it starts out slowly, it does pick up as the story develops. It is a tribute to the human spirit, our need for love and the ability to survive even the worst of life’s circumstances.
Cindy Lundgren sat slouched back in the chair, her long body scrunched uncomfortably as she waited at the New York Port Authority. She was tired and sleep deprived and was trying to stay awake while waiting for the bus to Niagara Falls. After paying for the ticket, all she had left was twenty eight dollars. She had been traveling for over two days and her fatigue was compounded by the uncertainty of what lay ahead. She was on her way home after being away for six years … six long and incredibly tumultuous years. Home was the wretched outskirts of Eden hemmed in by the shores of Lake Erie and the frigid cold that had numbed her very soul and had made her flee the stark isolation for the bright lights of the big cities. And as her tired mind filled with the scattered memories of her childhood, memories that appeared in non sequitur, she clung desperately to the one redeeming relationship she was returning to; her last vestige of hope. In her darkest moments she would think of her brother Robbie and was always filled with warmth and a sense of security and finally, after all these years, she had come to terms with the nature of their abnormal relationship. He had been her rock; the one slender thread of light that shone through the darkness of what was their youth. And sadly, through all the madness there had been no tears shed for Robbie Lundgren. Where do you start when dealing with a life handicapped by the challenges of environment? How do you capture the bane of a ruptured childhood; a drunken, abusive father and a sniveling, spineless mother? Or of the opportunities thwarted by the vagaries of fate and the choices we make? The most appropriate place would be at the beginning to when they were little kids. This is their story. ******* “I have learned silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant and kindness from the unkind; yet, strange, I am ungrateful to those teachers.”
Kahlil Gibran From Cindy’s perspective:
As far back as I can remember Robbie had worked; he had never had the opportunity to experience the unrestrained exuberance of being a child, to run free with the wind blowing through his hair and to play without a care in the world or to feel the love and security of doting parents. I had never witnessed either my mother or father display any affection towards him; he was never hugged or nurtured in any way and that was a crying shame. While the other children in the neighborhood played he was at my uncle’s paper mill or lumber yard and if Dad couldn’t find him odd jobs there, he would have endless chores for him to do around the house. Often while he ran errands, washed the cars or raked the leaves, he would look on wistfully as we played Stickball and would cheer enthusiastically when one of us got a hit or threw someone out but that is as far as his involvement went and after a while he would wave and return to his chores. So while we bonded and established friendships through play, Robbie grew distant and introverted though his isolation. He was five years older than me and in a family of Nordic giants; Robbie was the exception. He had the misfortune of being different, a xenogenetic aberration with physical attributes that were the manifestation of his maternal grandfather, a proud Highlander from Scotland. Robbie was five foot seven and weighed all of one hundred and thirty five pounds when he was fourteen and never grew an inch or added a pound since then. On the other hand, my father, Karl Lundgren, was a huge man standing over six feet six inches and weighing around two hundred and eighty five pounds. His parents had migrated to America from Sweden when he was a boy and the family has lived near the town of Niagara Falls all their lives. He worked at a local Steel Rolling Mill and often bragged about his Viking Heritage and the fact that he could out-work, out-drink and out-fight anyone anywhere and you would be hard pressed to find someone who would challenge that. If barroom brawling were to count for anything, Karl Lundgren was a legend in that town. My father had emotionally disowned Robbie from the day he was born. He couldn’t grasp the possibility of his son being only five pounds at birth and this resentment only grew with time. There weren’t many days during Robbie’s childhood that I can recall where my father wasn’t in a drunken rage and didn’t berate or beat Robbie. Not too many that I can think of. “You’re no son of mine, boy!” He would snarl, “You hear me Robbie …? You were spawned by some monkey-assed, circus midget that your whore-mother fucked when I was workin’, bustin’ my ass! You hear me, you little runt? You’re lucky I keep you here!” We had heard this tirade, or variations of this, so many times that on some subliminal level we may have even believed it. I do know that my younger brothers never really treated Robbie as family and though they were vaguely fond of him, there was a difference especially as they got older. However, the truth surrounding Robbie was far more complex and compelling. It had to do with a naïve, seventeen year old girl whose mother passed away from Lymphatic cancer leaving her suddenly responsible for six young siblings and a father who was drowning his grief in a bottle, lost without the woman who was his anchor. They had lived on a farm in the remote regions of Durness far from friends and neighbors and in that secluded environment, the young girl assumed the role of caretaker and lover and began sleeping with her father. And during the days leading up to her wedding, my mother and Grandfather spent all the time they could making frenetic and passionate love driven by the realization that their communion in this ill-fated relationship was drawing to a close. So when Robbie was born it was either a freakish genetic aberration or my brother was also my Uncle. I came to find this out much later in life when I was taking care of my mom during her own struggle with cancer. She had gently confronted me about Uncle Gerry and her suspicions of our illicit affair when I was just sixteen and while we were discussing the repercussions of that liaison, she divulged her own dark secret. She didn’t know for sure but she had always felt that Grandpa Cailin was Robbie’s biological father – she referred to it as a Woman’s intuition. My father was ignorant about their relationship and had just assumed it was a stranger she had met. He had known from the very beginning that my mother had an unusually high sex drive which only fueled his suspicious nature and it was an acknowledgment of his inability to satisfy her when he resorted to using his fists to beat her into submission … but he couldn’t bear to leave her. Instead, in a sick cycle of misguided love and misery he created a schism between them falling victim of his own Machiavellian schemes. We learned early on that dinner was best conducted in silence because you never knew what would trigger my father’s mercurial temper. And inevitably it was Robbie who would end up bearing the brunt of his wrath. Now I’m not saying that we were totally spared of his brutality but it was nothing compared to what Robbie experienced. During the nightly ranting, everyone at the dining table cowered and though my other brothers were Dad’s favorites, they were also terrified of him. Adam and Leif were carbon copies of Dad; big and blond and as they got older, they even acted like him – I guess the saying ‘like father, like son’ has some merit to it. My sister, Melissa, and I are physically similar, tall with thick, tawny blond hair. I have blue eyes while hers are green like my mother’s, but otherwise we look a lot like each other. We were known around the neighborhood as the ‘Lundgren Girls’ and were considered to be especially beautiful. I say this without vanity because it has been more of a burden than a blessing. Eventually both of us would leave Eden for the promise of modeling careers in New York City and when that dream evaporated in the sordid residuum of runway parties rife with drugs and alcohol, both of us ended up in Vegas … but that is another story for another time. It seemed odd even to us kids that Robbie was so small and so different, almost fragile, when compared to the rest of the brood but I loved him anyway. To me he was my big brother and nothing else mattered. One evening, when he was only twelve, my father had come home late from the local tavern and was in a particularly dark mood. I knew right away that this was not good and I could sense Robbie’s nervousness. I remember holding his hand under the table and it felt clammy and cold and he was trembling. Dad was reeking of alcohol and cheap perfume, the kind that the working girls sprayed on after each trick. He tasted one spoon of the soup and spat it out onto the floor, then snarling he threw the bowl against the wall. “What the fuck is this, woman? What is this tasteless fuckin’ dribble … you lazy cunt!” he screamed at Mom, “I work all day and this is what I get!” “You should have come home sooner instead of drinking and whoring and… and whatever else it is you do staying out so late!” she screamed back defiantly. She rarely stood up to him but even the weakest amongst us have limits and she must have reached hers. Just then, Robbie reached across the table and grabbed a slice of bread. I have no idea why he did that but I believe that he did it knowingly … to distract my father. “What are you doing?” Dad growled at him. “What?” Robbie asked, looking nervously at him. “I said what the fuck are you doing?” this time he was loud, his cheeks quivering and his face as red as beet. I remember cringing. I knew exactly what was going to happen next. “I’m hungry, Pa, it’s late and I need to finish cleaning up and do my chores after dinner!” Robbie said quietly but his tone was laced with a tinge of rebellion which surprised us all. He rarely, if ever, said anything back to Dad. “You clean up that fuckin’ mess now! Now … before you eat, boy!” he yelled, pointing at the mess on the carpet where the broken bowl lay scattered among the wet remnants of vegetables and meat. But before Robbie could react, my Mom intervened. “Leave the boy alone … it’s late and we are all hungry! We are going to eat first before we do anything else. If you don’t like the food go somewhere else! Go on! Get out!” I never thought that a big man could move so fast. He took one giant step and then reaching out, grabbed Mom by her hair and shook her like a hound shaking a rabbit. “You bitch, I’ll teach you to mouth off … you cock-suckin’ cunt!” he growled as he kept shaking her and slapping her across the head with his palm. “Now what do you have to say, you sorry-assed whore… I can’t hear you! What did you say?” he hissed and smacked her again but this time he hit her really hard. You could hear the resounding thwack as flesh met flesh and then Mom groaned in pain covering her face. We were all huddled together crying, all except Robbie. He had grabbed a broom stick and without warning hit my father over the head as hard as he could. “Shit! Oh fuck … what the …” Dad screamed grabbing his head and then spun around. There was a look of disbelief on his face as he tried to reconcile the absurdity of the little boy assaulting him. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The blow had split his scalp open and the blood streamed down the back of his neck through his thinning hair. He gingerly felt the crown of his head and then stared incredulously at the blood on his fingers. He looked up and roared, “You fuckin’ little runt … I’m going to kill you!” “You leave her alone …” Robbie whispered, his voice trembling as he waved the broom handle defiantly in front of him, holding it with both hands like a sword but it was like waving a toothpick at a raging Bull Elephant. He took one more swing and then Dad grabbed the stick and it was over. My mother ran in to try and stop the beating but he pushed her away, swatting her like a fly and she stumbled over, falling in a broken heap, sobbing hysterically. “Oh God, someone help him … please, help him …” she kept repeating but no one did. We were all too petrified to move. Her unctuous wailing only infuriated my father and Robbie took a beating the likes of which I had never seen then or since. I remember Melissa and me creeping late at night into the shed with warm water to bathe and absterge his wounds. Robbie and Melissa were Irish Twins. She was only ten months younger than Robbie and I can still hear her sobbing. “You have to run away, Robbie, you have to get away from him … he’ll kill you one of these days!” “I’m okay, Mimi, really … it’s okay; stop crying … it looks worse than it is.” Robbie mumbled through split and bloody lips. His thin body was bruised all over with black and blue welts around his ribcage and his right eye was swollen shut. Even as a child, I could sense his desperation for any form of affection and if this was the price he had to pay he’d willingly suffer it. He lay there and holding onto my hand, basking in Melissa’s attention while she tended to his bruises. I stroked his dark, silky hair until he fell asleep in his worn out sleeping bag. He had soft, small features and may not have been good-looking in the traditional sense but I thought he was beautiful. We stayed with him for a while and then crept back into the house. Robbie never complained. He would get up the next day and go about his life as though nothing had happened. He was about the most resilient person I knew. In school he lied about his bruises making excuses about falling or getting hurt while practicing at being a circus acrobat or some other wild tale that his childish imagination would concoct. And though some of the teachers suspected the abuse they were far too frightened of my father to do anything about it, so life for Robbie remained unchanged – there was no Angel of Mercy for my brother. It could have been the lack of parental love or just the need to be needed but Robbie loved us with a passion. This was especially true when it came to Mimi and me. It was about the only thing that would light up his eyes which seemed to grow colder and bluer with each passing year. In between his chores he always found time to help me or the others with our homework or to mend any of our broken toys. He used to read to me and my brothers when we couldn’t fall asleep and often Melissa and I would hide him in our closet when Dad came home in one of his rages and would go looking for him. Most days he just worked quietly and after dinner he did his best to stay out of Dad’s way. It was strange that Mom rarely intervened when Robbie was being singled out. It was possible that her spirit had been broken, beaten out of her, but it seemed incredulous even to us kids when she blamed Robbie for being the root of her problems with her husband. She often told us that our father was loving and caring until Robbie had been born. There were times when my mother would talk of Robbie going to live with Grandpa Cailin in Scotland but nothing ever came of it and oddly enough, our lives followed two separate and very distinct paths. There was Robbie who lived this horrific, implausible nightmare and then there was the family in which the rest of us lived. The difference between these two realities was conspicuously evidenced by our sleeping arrangements. The log cabin we lived in had three bedrooms. My parents used the large bedroom, Adam and Leif got the adjacent bedroom next to my parents since they were the youngest and Mimi and I shared a room on the far side of the house next to the living room. Robbie slept in the living room on the floor in his sleeping bag or in the large shed out in the back – depending on Dad’s moods. I still don’t know how Robbie survived the subzero winters when he was banished from the house but I guess some children are born tougher than others. Sometimes when it got bitter cold, dropping down below minus ten degrees, he would go over to Uncle Gerry’s place and stay the night but he always got back early and we would see him shoveling the snow off the driveway or making sure Dad’s pick-up was clean and running. Like a one-trick pony, working gave my brother a sense of self-worth and kept him attached to the fringes of the family. When he got older, the frequency of their confrontations lessened and they tried avoiding each other as much as they could. It was more a case of my father losing interest in the jaded routine than Robbie’s efforts to lay low. I know that he hated my father with a passion that only few could muster and this burning resentment would eventually cost him dearly, far more than it was worth. ******* “On a lotus leaf he floats down the sacred waters of the Ganges,
and the eye of the Hindu maid gleams bright when she beholds him.” The Phoenix Bird Hans Christian Andersen
Uncle Gerry’s real name was Gerhard … Gerhard Lundgren but everyone in town called him Gerry. He owned several businesses including the small paper mill and lumber yard where Robbie found refuge from the storms of his daily life. My uncle was a reasonably successful man and though he was a few years younger than my father, he was the only man I knew who wasn’t afraid of Dad. He was as tall as my father but much leaner and was very handsome. I can remember people remarking that he belonged in Hollywood in the pictures to which Uncle Gerry always laughed out loud after making some self-deprecating comment about his acting skills. He had this big, booming laugh which was infectious and you couldn’t help but like him. The men liked him because he always had a joke to tell and the women found him irresistible flirting with him openly and if you were to believe the rumors, he was sleeping with half the girls in the area! He liked them young and he was always on the prowl looking to add to his rather prodigious list of conquests. His wife was a small, dark-haired Canadian woman who was pretty and quiet and for most part, invisible. They didn’t have children and lived only a few miles from our house so we often stayed over during weekends and holidays. We looked forward to these breaks because we were spoilt silly. Aunt Mary was a wonderful cook and baked the best chocolate chip cookies ever and Uncle Gerry would take us to the movies and buy us almost anything we wished. My uncle was always kind to Robbie and was the only one who was openly affectionate with him when my father was around. “You are coddling the boy, Gerry, spoilin’ the little bastard!” my father would say frowning disapprovingly but he never interfered. On one occasion Uncle Gerry had given Robbie a book on Bruce Lee and seeing the expression on Dad’s face he remarked. “This little guy will kick your ass one day, Adolf … you had better be nice to him!” he jokingly called my father “Adolf” whenever he thought Dad was being a bully. “That chop-suey bullshit works in the movies … I’d like to see someone try it on me!” my father retorted but it sounded hollow, lacking the conviction of his usual braggadocio. “Yeah right!” Uncle Gerry grinned and then turning to Robbie he added, “Listen, you don’t have to be a giant to be tough, son, Bruce Lee was a real badass and not just in the movies … and he was a little guy like you!” Robbie was beaming; I had never seen him so happy. He gave Uncle Gerry a hug and made a mad dash for the sanctuary of the shed to read about the diminutive martial artist. From that day on, Robbie read any and everything about Bruce Lee and watched all his movies religiously. It was too bad that my Uncle didn’t come around more often or that Robbie didn’t go and stay with him. There was a stubborn streak in the Lundgren men as wide as the Niagara Falls itself and I guess some things were just not meant to be. ******* One Sunday when we returned from Church, Uncle Gerry was waiting at home watching a football game on TV. He had a key and would let himself in if we were out. As soon as I saw him I ran into his arms and he twirled me around effortlessly and then put me down, staring into my eyes. “Cindy Lundgren! Look at you … you sure are becoming one beautiful gal!” he said and laughed. I had such a crush on him, I could’ve died! I blushed and hugged him again. “Go get your uncle a cup of coffee, will ya?” he asked and gave me a pat on my behind. When I got back I handed him the cup and scrambled up onto his lap and made myself comfortable. I had been doing this ever since I was little. “When are you going to take me to New York City?” I pouted because he’d promise to take me but never did. “Careful, girl, you don’t want me to spill this onto that lovely dress, do you?” he cautioned, then giving me a quick squeeze he added, “I’ll take you there on your eighteenth birthday … I promise. It’ll be my present to you and it’s not that far away, is it?” “No … but can’t we go sooner … please?” I persisted petulantly. “Let me think about it, sweetie, and if everything works out I’ll take you there one of these days, okay?” he said pulling me closer. I sat on his lap snuggling up to him and felt his hand on the inside of my thigh, his fingers tracing lazy patterns through the folds of the dress very near the V of my legs but though it titillated me, I thought nothing of it. Later when I was in the kitchen my mother said, “You are getting too old to be sitting on your uncle’s lap, Cindy, you need to behave like a proper young woman now!” I had no idea what she meant or why it was such a big deal but I wasn’t about to quarrel with her so I said nothing and went about my business. A few months later, I was to learn exactly what my mother had been implying when I experienced my first brush with male sexuality. ******* It was during the Thanksgiving holidays when we were staying with my uncle and aunt. I was sitting on Uncle Gerry’s lap opening up a gift he had gotten me when I felt something long and hard pressing into the crack of my ass. At first I didn’t know what it was. It felt like a log except that it was alive, “jumping” against my butt. I remember squirming on his lap trying to make it stop but that only made it “jump” even harder and I felt Uncle Gerry breathing kind of funny. I don’t know why I did it but I began rocking my ass very slowly, rubbing against this “thing” that was pressing into my behind and heard him groaning and then felt him hold me tightly against him. My mind had become foggy and I couldn’t think clearly, it was as though something had taken over me; a feminine instinct which had preprogrammed my hormonal reactions. I spread my legs so that I was straddling his lap and was leaning back against his body when I felt the log slip deeper in between my crack coming up through the front of my crotch. His fingers began rolling and pinching my nipples and for some reason that felt indescribably wonderful – it was paradoxically painful but deep inside it was oh so pleasurable that I thought I was going to die. “Oh, baby… Cindy …” he said, closing his eyes, his head resting against the sofa. I felt the tingling sensation between my legs spreading like a nice itchy feeling that needed to be scratched and the harder I rocked against his thing, the nicer it felt. I had no idea what this was except that it felt delicious and I didn’t want it to stop. I was about to reach down and hold the throbbing log in place when Aunt Mary came into the living room. She had Adam and Leif with her and had brought some cookies and milk so I jumped off his lap and ran over to show them my gift. My face was flushed and my slit felt wet like I had peed except that it was different; it felt sticky and slick. I was a little frightened and unsure of what was happening because I didn’t want Uncle Gerry to stop liking me and hoped that I hadn’t made a mess on his pants. But I was glowing with this grown-up feeling and when I looked at him, he was staring at the TV and there was a big bulge in his lap. I ran up to my room as soon as I could and locking the door I pulled my panties off. The crotch had a large, wet stain and there was a strange aroma I had never experienced before … like cloves or more like a bouquet of heady spices. Then lying on the bed, I spread my legs and touched myself, pushing my middle finger into my pussy and running it upwards until I made contact with my clit – and ‘Bingo’! The lights went off in my brain and I was hooked. I kept rubbing it experimenting with the pressure until the feeling built up, spreading throughout my body until finally, like a firecracker exploding, I climaxed. My whole body was shaking uncontrollably as I experienced my first real orgasm! I had touched myself before this and it had always made me feel nice but never like this. This was simply amazing! After that there wasn’t a single night where I didn’t play with myself thinking about Uncle Gerry’s log and wanting to experience that warm fuzzy sensation all over my body. That was the inception of my self-discovery and to think I owed this all to my gorgeous uncle. ******* Ever since that first incident Uncle Gerry began coming over more frequently and was a lot more affectionate and whenever we were alone he would hold me tightly against him and fondle my budding breasts, squeezing and pinching my nipples while rubbing me between my legs. And each time he did this I could feel his cock throbbing through his trousers and it always made me hot and excited and I would get really wet. But with a house full of kids it was only a matter of time before we were interrupted and I would run off into my room or to the bathroom to finish what he had started. I was so madly in love with him, or so I thought, and kept wishing that he would pop my cherry and would masturbate constantly with thoughts of that big, bouncing log playing in my head and how I would love to feel it inside me. Then one day, right after Mom had left for her weekly Rummy session with her friends, I had gone into the kitchen to heat up some soup when he came up behind me and hugged me to him and though I was tall for my age my head barely came up to his shoulders. After the initial surprise, it dawned on me that there was no one was else at home and that Mom wouldn’t be back for at least three hours. My heart began pounding as the significance of being alone with my uncle slowly sank in. And while he kissed the curve of my neck and fondled my breasts, I kept thinking, ‘Oh God, I’m going to get fucked now!’ He had one giant arm around my stomach keeping me pinned while he reached down under my skirt with his other hand and pulled my panties down and had me step out of them. He then hoisted me up and carried me to the bedroom and laid me down on the bed. All this time he hadn’t said a word but I could hear his breathing rasping like the snorting of a bull in heat. He knelt down and pulled me to the edge so my ass and legs were off the side of the bed and I was lying crosswise with my skirt hiked up above my waist. My pussy, in all its glory, was exposed to him and I felt a bit embarrassed because the juices kept seeping out of me. I didn’t have a lot of hair down there and wondered what he would think and in my naiveté wished that I had a neatly trimmed golden triangle like Mimi. His face was between my legs with my thighs straddling his head resting on his shoulders and when he ran his finger along the moist length of my slit I felt sensations coursing through me that I had never felt before. For such a big man he was surprisingly gentle as he kept stroking me spreading my juices all over the swollen lips of my vagina. My body kept twitching and jerking and just when I thought it couldn’t feel any better, he pushed the tip of his finger into me and at the same time pressed down gently on my clit with his thumb. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. “Ohhhhh … God … ummmmm …!” My breath swooshed out of me in a loud gasp and my hips bucked disjointedly like they had a mind of their own. He kept pushing his finger in and out of my hole inching deeper into me while making small circles on my node with his thumb and I could feel that balloon of pressure expanding, building up in my chest making me breathless and edging me closer to the point of no return … I was almost there when he took his finger out of me. “Nooo … please, Uncle Gerry … don’t stop …” I cried out in desperation while my pussy constricted helplessly. “Shhh, baby, it’s gonna get better … you’re gonna love this!” his voice was now hoarse and clouded with passion. He grabbed my hips and held me in place and I felt the moist warmth of his breath as his face got closer to my crotch. I remember lying still wondering what he was going to do but before I knew what was happening, my whole body was jolted; he had covered my cunt with his mouth and flattened his tongue to lick slowly upwards from the bottom of my slit to the top of my Mons. There was nothing I could compare that feeling to because until then, the only thing my clit had experienced was the manipulations of my inept fingers and that was nothing like this … this was tantamount to being hit with ten thousand amps of high tension, pleasure-inducing current. My body convulsed and my thighs clamped tightly around the sides of his head as my fingers grabbed the bedcovers while making strange and curious noises; sounds I had never made before. He kept on lapping me with rapid back and forth swipes across the length of my gash and I could hear him slurping the viscid juices which were now gushing out from me. He was obviously very experienced and knew just when to do what and where. And while he focused his tongue on my clit, his hands worked up my body to my breasts, which had gotten bigger and more sensitive over the last year, and he began kneading them, pinching and rolling my nipples intermittently shorting out the circuits which ran along the burgeoning sexual pathways of my body. He had me skirting on the edge; balancing precariously like a trapeze artist on a high wire. Each time I got really close, he would back off by easing the pressure on my clit or stopping the caresses altogether, focusing his attention on the inside of my thighs or by licking my abdomen around my belly button so that I couldn’t come off the ledge. I was having little orgasms one on top of the other and he knew just how to keep me there. I was being manipulated by an expert with a dexterous tongue, one who knew exactly how to please a woman. And with all the wonderful sensations I was being subjected to I had an overwhelming feeling of gratitude … I just felt incredibly lucky that my uncle had picked me. And after what seemed like an eternity he sucked my clit in between his teeth gently nibbling on it and then ran the tip of his tongue rapidly over it. The sudden incessant stimulation of my tiny pod was more than I could take and I exploded. “Ohhhhh … yesssss … ohhh … oh, oh God, Uncle Gerry … ohhhhhhhh!” was all I could muster. My body writhed in ecstasy while my hips undulated against his face and I pulled him into me by his hair. He was trying to secure me in place but despite his considerable strength he was having a hard time controlling the contortions of my twisting body. My hips rolled and turned; my legs thrashing like the flapping wings of a distressed bird as the waves of pleasure crashed over me, again and again, shooting from the nexus of my cuntal core through to my extremities until finally I was done, lying limp while he continued to pleasure me with gentle kisses and licks. Every now and then he would spread my vaginal lips with his fingers and tickle my clit with the tip of his tongue making me jerk in reflex as the intense waves of pleasure shot through my listless body. My face was flushed and I was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and felt so incredibly warm and wonderful that I never wanted this to end. Then he stood up and I heard his zipper being undone and when I looked up I saw his cock for the first time. It was massive; at least eight or nine inches long and almost as thick as my forearm with a red, angry head shaped like a giant mushroom. It was throbbing and every now and then it would lurch and my mind instantly went back to the “jumping log” I had tried to visualize so often. And when he began stroking his rod a large drop of syrupy, clear liquid leaked out of the tip reminding me of honey dribbling down a fat ladle and I felt an urge to lick it but I just watched; my eyes wide with amazement. I was a little frightened wondering how he was going to get that monster into me … I was sure it would tear me apart! But there was a side of me that was excited and curious and wanted to please him like he had done me. I knelt on the bed so that I was at eye level with his crotch and was overcome by this compelling urge to touch him and feel his cock in my hand. I could barely get my fingers around the girth of his thickly veined shaft but what fascinated me was the head; it flared outward forming a prominent umbrella and was almost purple in color and it was so smooth and hot and hard. I just loved the way it felt. I ran my hand over the top spreading the sticky liquid over the length of his cock trying to figure out what would make him feel good. At first he guided my hand showing me how to do him and each time my fingers brushed the ridge of the purple dome, he let out a loud groan. “Oh God, Cindy girl … mmmm … that’s so good, baby …ohhh!” he moaned staring at me; at my fingers caressing his thickly engorged tool. And as I continued jerking him off, I used his reactions to gage whether it was good for him or not. If he groaned, moaned or trembled I knew that was good. And when I squeezed him too hard or if I was too rough on the head he would hold my hand and say, “Not so hard, baby … easy … be gentle …” and I would adjust my technique. Slowly but surely I had worked up a good rhythm, my confidence growing with each passing second when I decided to use both my hands. It made sense; I could double the pleasure. So while I stroked him with one hand I rubbed the slick, engorged head with the other. It must have felt nice for him because his whole body began trembling and he grunted, mumbling incoherently, saying things that I could barely understand. Then suddenly he grabbed my head and pulled me towards his cock forcing the tip into my mouth but the head was way too large for me and though I opened my jaws as wide as I could, I could only accommodate about three quarters of it into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the slippery crown, alternately licking and sucking at the tip like it was a lollipop when it happened. I guess having his cock sucked by his niece was too much for him because just as I did that, he discharged. “Oh God, I’m cumming … suck it baby, drink it all … oh, fuck … oh, here it comes!” he moaned out loud. When the first shot of stringy ejaculate hit the back of my throat it took me by surprise and I gagged. It tasted tart and slightly sweet but the slimy texture almost made me throw up but I didn’t; I just swallowed it. It was my first taste of cum and though I didn’t particularly savor the taste, I recall feeling extremely excited by the power I felt over this huge, beautiful man who was now under my control. It is impossible to really translate that feeling into words. I tried pulling away from him but he was holding my head firmly so I turned sideways freeing my mouth from his cockhead and as I continued to stroke him, he spewed the rest of his sperm all over my face and hair. There was so much … his cock was pulsing and jerking and he just kept cumming and cumming and of all the men I have known that was the most I have ever seen someone cum. It may have been because it was my first time but it was exhilarating to say the least and I think that first experience set the course for my sexual predilections; a penchant for oral sex and the need for that lascivious thrill of having men ejaculate on me. Through the entire process of jerking my uncle off, that irresistible tingling between my legs only intensified and I needed so badly to reach down and rub myself but since I was using both hands to pleasure him all I could do was to squeeze my thighs together. But now as he stood over me lazily stroking himself, I lay back on the bed and began playing with myself under my skirt, burying my fingers in my swollen quim. I wanted to feel that monster cock inside me and my earlier apprehension was all but forgotten. I was being driven by a heightened desire for my uncle and was too naïve to understand the consequences of this overpowering carnal need. He reached down and pushed my skirt back up so he could watch me. “Oh, baby … you look so fuckin’ hot … I’m going to have to fuck you …” he said, his voice was soft and hoarse and his eyes glimmering with lust, brighter than I had ever seen it. “That’s it, baby, let me see you play with that cunt … nice, juicy little cunt …” He remained hard as he continued to stroke his thick, angry root and then he leaned forward running his cockhead along the velvety length of my swollen quim and I was sure I was going to pass out. He continued to rub the tip against my clit, skewering my vaginal lips apart, while I squirmed in ecstasy, pushing my hips up at him, wanting more than ever for him to penetrate me, to fill that longing deep inside my core. “Has anyone been inside you, Cindy?” he asked. “No … no one, I promise, Uncle Gerry … please do it …” I moaned wanting that monster cock inside my cunt. “Okay, baby, I know just what you want … it’s going to hurt a little but then you’re going to feel really good … just relax, okay, are you ready?” He asked trying to reassure me. I couldn’t speak and just nodded. There is no way I can describe the sense of fear and anticipation as I waited for him to take me. I felt the petals of my cunt spreading as he began pushing his cock into me and for a moment I thought he was going to split me wide open but he stopped waiting for my body to adjust. I guess his experience had taught him exactly how to deflower a virgin and while he waited his fingers were toying with my clit driving me out of my mind. I could hear our breathing echoing loudly like the symphony of rutting animals and couldn’t believe that it was me who was moaning so loudly. Then feeling my hips squirming upwards and my vaginal lips gulping at his cockhead, he withdrew a bit before inching more of his penis into me. I closed my eyes, lost in the immense intensity of the moment as my vaginal mouth was stretched to its limit. “Oh God … ohhhhh…. mmmhhh …” I groaned loudly and spread my legs wider trying to accommodate him. And just then we heard the front door open accompanied by the thundering feet of Adam and Leif as they ran towards the kitchen shrieking playfully. This meant that Mimi was home; she was the one who normally got them from school. I pushed him away and scrambled off the bed in a panic. “Mimi’s here … hurry … you have to get out!” I said and ran towards the bathroom. Having his cock pull out of me abruptly, severing our intimate union, left me with an overwhelming sense of emptiness and was the hardest thing I had ever done but fear is a great motivator and I will never forget the look of disappointment and shock etched my uncle’s face. He was standing there with his enormous, glistening cock throbbing wildly staring at me as I disappeared behind the bathroom door. When I looked in the mirror I was surprised by my reflection. I was a sight; my lips were puffy and red and my hair was tousled like a wild, golden mane fringing my face with traces of cum everywhere; on my face and neck and even in my hair. And while wiping away the remnants of my sexual anointment, my mind raced with the thrilling aspects of my first sexual encounter – the image of his cock throbbing in my hands, the head swelling grotesquely just before it jerked and spat out those stringy globules of cum. They kept repeating in my mind like an X-Rated clip on auto-replay. I couldn’t help myself; I closed my eyes and ran my fingers along the wet length of my insatiable cunt as the incredible sensations spread, once again, from the epicenter of my vagina like liquid flames encoding the neuro-chemical pathways of my brain until my body began to tremble when suddenly I realized that my panties were on the kitchen floor! I felt the cold, excruciating fingers of fear slowly squeezing at my heart, killing off the embers of passion, as I descended back into reality. I stopped and stared at myself in disbelief – everything was going so well; why was this happening? I knew that the only chance that it would be overlooked was if it had fallen under the table but that was highly improbable considering where we had been standing. Oh well, I just had to get on with it. I rinsed my hair off the best I could and with my mind fraught with a million implausible excuses; I came out of the bathroom. The room had that curiously sweet smell of sex and was empty; Uncle Gerry was gone. I opened a window to get some fresh air in and decided to face the music heading for the kitchen. ******* “Hi! How are you feeling?” Mimi asked, acting quite normal. She was making sandwiches for Adam and Leif. “Much better …” I replied, “I’m glad I stayed home.” “I’m sure you are!” Mimi said looking down while stacking the bread with cold cuts. My brothers could put away food faster than a pack of hungry hyenas. Uncle Gerry was standing a little behind her and gave me a knowing wink, smiling broadly. I quickly scanned the room for my panties but there was no sign of them. I could only hope that my uncle had taken them. “Are you sure you won’t stay, Uncle Gerry? I can brew a fresh pot of coffee if you want!” Mimi said to him. “Thanks baby, but no … I had better get going … I wanted to make sure you kids were doing okay.” Uncle Gerry answered and giving us each a peck on the cheek, he left. “That’s strange … he was in a god-awful hurry to leave!” Mimi remarked, looking out of the window while his car pulled away and then smiling wryly she added, “Knowing Uncle Gerry he’s off to meet one of his floozies!” I was lost in thought and was staring out into space wondering about my panties and whether Uncle Gerry was really off for another rendezvous. I felt an ugly twinge of jealousy at the thought when I heard Mimi. “Did you lose these?” she asked, pulling my panties out of her pocket and then added, “What’s going on, Cindy? Is there something you want to tell me?” but her tone had turned accusatory. I could feel my face turning bright red and I avoided looking at my sister. “I don’t want to talk about it! It’s none of your business!” I said defiantly and grabbed my knickers from her. “He didn’t force you, did he?” she asked, “you had better tell me or I’m going to tell Mother!” “No! Mimi, please … promise me you won’t say anything, please promise …” I said, pleading with her, suddenly frightened. “Did he force you, Cindy … just tell me that?” she asked again. “No, he didn’t!” I reacted loudly, then lowering my voice I added, “He would never do that … and we didn’t have sex!” “No? Then how do you explain that look on your face?” “What look?” I asked. “That ‘I just got fucked look’, Cindy … you think I don’t know that look?” she retorted, almost angrily, “and you had better go wash your hair again, there’s stuff all over the sides!” I didn’t know what to say. I reacted by running my fingers along the side of my head, through my hair and felt the congealed residue of my uncle’s cum and looked at her helplessly. “Just promise me you won’t say anything to anyone! Please, Mimi!” I begged her. She was quiet and then her face softened, “I promise … but you have to tell me everything! Everything! I want all the interesting details … okay?” she insisted, smiling and stressing the word ‘interesting’. I was relieved and eagerly acquiesced nodding my head and felt strangely excited that I could share this incredible experience with her. I gave her a hug and ran off to take a shower. That night before we went to sleep I confided in her pouring out the gory details as I recalled it and felt a sense of relief. Mimi wasn’t judgmental at all and was really curious about the size of Uncle Gerry’s penis. I couldn’t be sure but I think she was touching herself under the covers while I told her my story. “Sounds like you had a lot more fun than I did on my first time …” she said her voice tinged with regret. “Who did you do it with?” I asked, curious to know which of her boyfriends had been her first. She had so many guys calling on her. “John Wozniak … you know, John who works at the bakery?” “Fat John?” I asked incredulously. I couldn’t believe that she would let him touch her when half of the school’s hunks were chasing after her! “Well, he wasn’t that fat then and he was very sweet but it was terrible … we had gone for a concert and had smoked a joint and I was a bit drunk …” she paused trying to recollect the incident and then continued, “… and horny! I was really horny! It must have been the pot! Anyhow, he had no idea what to do and kept mauling my tits and slobbering all over my face and when we finally got down to it, he came in one second flat! I didn’t feel a thing and couldn’t believe it was over!” I laughed at the image of John lying on top of my sister in the backseat of his car, puffing and panting while pounding frantically into her slim body. “I’m sorry, Mimi, I just can’t imagine you with him …” and then for no reason we cracked up laughing. “He kept saying how sorry he was and the next time it would be better … the next time? What was he thinking? He must have been out of his mind! When he dropped me home he said ‘I can’t believe I just fucked Melissa Lundgren!’ Who would say that? I avoided the bakery for a month!” She said after she had stopped laughing. Then we were quiet for a while and I was getting sleepy but she wanted to know more. “Are you going to let him fuck you again, Cindy?” “I don’t know!” I replied honestly, “I think I’m in love with him … is that sick? I mean he’s my uncle …” my voice trailed off. “Everyone is in love with Uncle Gerry … I was too … and he touched me once but I think Mom saw him and from then on he was very careful around me!” she replied. “Where … where did he touch you?” I couldn’t help myself; I wanted to know if it was the same as he did with me. “I was standing in the kitchen one summer a few years back and he came up next to me and put his hand on my ass, rubbing my butt, letting his fingers press into my crack … but nothing ever happened and I was convinced that I had imagined it! Now listening to you, I wish I had pursued it … and he had done me!” she said and then added, “Are you angry that I told you about this?” “No! I’m not angry at all; just surprised … I don’t know why people say it’s wrong. Why is it wrong if you love someone and you trust him and he can be gentle and teach you things without making you anxious or frightened? And at the same time make it so good for you … why is that wrong?” I asked speaking quickly trying to make sense of all the confusing thoughts racing through my mind. “I don’t know … I guess people are worried that if you are closely related and have kids they would come out all weird or something!” She said and rolled over facing away from me. “If you fuck him again make sure you tell me …” her voice trailed off in a somnolent stupor, “Goodnight, Cindy … sleep tight!” and then she drifted off to sleep. My drowsiness had disappeared and I was suddenly awake and lay there thinking about Uncle Gerry and incest and began getting aroused again. I reached down and played with myself until that warm fuzzy feeling spread over my body with thoughts of my uncle’s “jumping” log running through my mind. ******* That incident with my Uncle set in motion events that would permanently change our lives and had far reaching consequences. Like the Butterfly Effect explained within the esoteric constraints of the Chaos Theory – my seemingly inconsequential action would have severe downstream ramifications. But on the brighter side, Mimi and I became a lot closer. She had always treated me like a pesky, kid sister but now we were more like friends and definitely like equals. We began confiding in each other talking about subjects we would never have broached before. After that tryst with Uncle Gerry, it almost seemed like fate had conspired to make sure that he and I couldn’t be alone again. I even feigned being ill and stayed home one day but as luck would have it, Dad took a personal day off and lazed around the house. And when Uncle Gerry showed up as planned and saw my father he looked disappointed but made the best of it by ordering Chinese for lunch and copping a quick feel in between talking and drinking with Dad. At one point, while I was in the kitchen, my father almost walked in on us when my uncle was kissing me from behind with his hand inside my panties and his fingers buried deep inside my pussy! I couldn’t recall any other instance when my dad had taken a day off from work! Just my luck! And to make matters even more interesting, I noticed that whenever Uncle Gerry was over, Mimi would flirt openly with him and even sat on his lap when Mom was in the room. She later confided that his cock had been throbbing against her butt and left her feeling all hot and bothered! He was an indiscriminating rogue but I loved him anyway and wasn’t really jealous of Mimi. I felt like Mimi and I were in this together, like partners in some twisted game. ******* “Summer grasses,
All that remains
Of soldiers' dreams” by Matsuo Bashō in his ‘ haiku ’
By the time Robbie was eighteen there was a side to him that was reckless and infinitely more dangerous than my father or any of us could had ever anticipated. Driven by a subconscious Freudian transference he had taken to picking fights with men who were much larger than him; men with physical attributes similar to my dad’s and he was earning quite a reputation as someone to be given a wide berth. His body had matured and though he remained small in stature, he had morphed from a skinny kid to a compact bundle of forged and tempered muscle. He was built like a gymnast and I once watched him do a twisting back summersault from a standstill and remember being amazed because I had never seen him practice. There were some peculiarities to Robbie. He had the ability to stay absolutely still when you spoke to him staring into your eyes without blinking or moving a muscle and without any expression on his face reminding me of a venomous Viper coiled and ready to strike. It made people feel uneasy and many of my friends had confided that he gave them the jeebies. We were all perplexed by the metamorphosis but it was the consequences of his aggressiveness that worried us most. Invariably, Friday nights spelled trouble. He would go from bar to bar and at the slightest provocation instigate fights and beat some poor, unsuspecting troglodyte senseless. His toughness could be attested to by many a rugged foundry worker who had been pounded into unconsciousness by my brother. He had been described as a bare-knuckled barracuda; fast and vicious with an indefatigable well of energy and once after a run in with a bunch of over-zealous sailors the local Sheriff, who was a friend of Uncle Gerry’s, brought him home. Robbie was bloodied up but unrepentant. “The boy’s got a hard bark on him, Karl, harder than any I’ve seen.” Sheriff Hardy explained, “He’s going to kill someone one of these days and he doesn’t need a weapon!” I don’t think Sherriff Hardy had any idea how prophetic those words would prove to be just a few months later. The strangest part of all this was the perverse pride my father took in Robbie’s brutal exploits. Far from being angry he basked in the notoriety surrounding my brother and it must have had something to do with the fierceness associated with the Lundgren name. ******* “I made a truce last night with Sorrow, The queen of tears, the foe of sleep, To keep her tents until the morrow, Nor send such dreams to make me weep.” Robert Fuller Murray
It was a Friday and Dad and Mom had gone to visit my mother’s sister in Maine and had taken Adam and Leif with them. Mimi and I were alone at home when Uncle Gerry called. “Hi sweetie … how are you doing?” “Oh, hi Uncle Gerry … I’m doing okay!” then lowering my voice, “when are you coming over … I miss you … you know …” I was thrilled that he had called. I was thinking about him almost all the time now. “What do you mean, honey?” He asked knowing full well what I meant. “You’re being mean … don’t tease me!” “No, I want you to tell your uncle what you want … come on now!” he said, his voice becoming softer but more demanding. I was quiet for a while. “I want us to do that again …” I said, lowering my voice even more. “Do what, honey?” he persisted. I took a deep breath and said, “I want us to make love … like the last time … but this time I … um … er, um …” I hesitated. “Say it baby … Uncle Gerry wants to hear you say it!” he urged. “I want to finish it; I want you to fuck me …” I said it quickly, my mind scrambling for the right words. “Goddamn girl, that sounds so fuckin’ hot … you’re making me hard, sweetie …” he said and then after a brief pause, added, “Is Melissa there?” I blushed at his comment and then answered. “Yeah … she’s in the kitchen. Do you want to speak to her?” “Yes sweetie, put her on and then why don’t you come over? Have Mimi drive you here. Your Aunt Mary is in Canada visiting her family … and I’m lonely for you, baby!” “Okay … let me get her.” I said and ran into the kitchen excited at the thought of being with him again. ******* When we got to Uncle Gerry’s place he opened the door with a big grin on his face. “Wow, you gals look absolutely stunning!” he said and hugged us both to him. I saw Mimi hugging him tightly with her hand on his ass and smiled to myself. We were dressed to the nines with our sexiest outfits on. Mimi and I were about the same size now and she let me wear one of her slinky outfits and even helped me with my makeup. We didn’t discuss the possibility of what might happen but I think we were both excited to be with him. I think Mimi was really intrigued by the size of my uncle’s cock ever since I had described it to her. Uncle Gerry took us to the living room where he had some wine poured for us. I looked over at Mimi and she shrugged and smiled. “Well, you might as well … I started a lot younger than you!” “It’s only wine and she’s a big girl now!” Uncle Gerry said trying to be reassuring. We drank the wine slowly and chatted about Mimi’s upcoming photo-shoot. An agency in New York wanted to see her portfolio and she was having it done in the city the following week. “That sounds like a lot of fun Mimi; I can come with you if you like.” He said and walked over to the wet-bar noticing that we had finished the bottle of wine. He poured some brandy into a snifter, rolling it around before taking a long sip. We saw him swirling it in his mouth. “Mmmm, now that’s smooth …” he said. Then he came over and got our glasses. “I’ll let you try some … just a teeny bit because it’s pretty strong stuff.” He added but then he poured more than just a little bit. We drank several shots of the brandy enjoying the warmth of the liqueur and about twenty or thirty minutes later, I began feeling buzzed and drowsy but in a strange way. Not really sleepy but like my arms and legs were falling asleep. When I looked over at Mimi she was lying back on the long sofa and her eyes were hooded and dreamy. Her skirt had worked itself up revealing a bit of her panties and showing off her long, shapely legs. “That was so good …” she slurred Just then, two men walked in and through a muddled haze I thought I recognized them. It was Reed Dalton and Henry … Henry something … what was his name? Oh yes, it was Henry Rawlins. They were Uncle Gerry’s poker buddies and we had met them before at my uncle’s many cook-outs. Reed was a weightlifter with huge muscles and Henry was big but on the heavy side. What were they doing here? And, what was going on? Why did Uncle Gerry have them here? The three of them stood looking down at us and I remember both of us smiling up at them. “Hello ladies!” Hank said with a broad grin on his face. “Man, they are beautiful … real sweet!” Reed said as he walked over to me, “I want this one first …” “No, she’s mine … you boys can have her after I’m done!” Uncle Gerry directed. I heard the other two laughing at some remark about Uncle Gerry liking them young. But my mind was working in slow motion and I struggled to comprehend what was being said. In addition my arms and legs felt like they were trapped in molasses. I could barely move them and there was no sound coming from my mouth … it was all very strange. They undressed us both and then got naked themselves. And strangely, I didn’t feel any inhibitions being nude in front of them and was surprised by the fact that the whole thing was beginning to arouse me. It was like an outer-body experience - I was hovering above my body watching everything but unable to do anything. I had no idea what had happened except that somehow Uncle Gerry was involved and his friends were now in the room with him and all of us were naked. I could see them stroking their cocks which were hard and knew we were going to get fucked and remember clearly wanting that to happen. When I looked over at Mimi they were already fucking her. Well, Reed was fucking her – he was standing up in between her legs holding her thighs up as he pumped into her while Henry held her by her hair and fed his cock into her mouth. Her hand was around his legs and her eyes would flutter open and then close again. I could hear her moaning and saw her legs twitching strangely. Every now and then Henry would push his cock deep into her mouth and then slowly pull it back out again and I could see her cheeks hollowing as she sucked on his cockhead while Reed continued to piston into her. She was holding Henry’s shaft with one hand and pulling on her nipples with the other and I wondered whether she was aware of what she was doing; she looked so sensually wanton … like a cock-hungry slut. It was then that I felt Uncle Gerry over me and heard him grunt as he pushed his huge cock into me. He had used some kind of gel on both of us which allowed him to slide easily into me and after the initial pain subsided, I felt stretched and filled up with him. He fucked me slowly and for a long time. I just heard him grunting as he ploughed into me, over and over and over again until finally I felt his cock squirt. And when he was done he turned to the others and said almost casually. “Okay, she’s yours … let me have the other one!” Then they took turns with us, sometimes alone and sometimes working in pairs, doing whatever they wanted. They fucked us each several times over the next three hours or so taking breaks to sit around laughing and drinking until one of them would get on top of me or Mimi and it would start all over again. Watching their friend fucking us would get the other two excited and I lost count after I had been taken about six times. I know Uncle Gerry did me at least twice. He kept whispering, “Oh Cindy … baby, you feel so good … so tight and slick, baby, tight little cunt …” while he was fucking me, his voice hoarse and wracked as he thrust his cock deep into my pussy. I recall staring into his huge chest when he shot his cum into me, his body jerking and twitching while my cunt convulsed around him. I also know that Reed did me several times because of his muscles – they were glistening in the light especially his stomach muscles when pushed his cock into my mouth while Uncle Gerry was fucking me. Reed’s cock was long and thin and much easier to suck. I didn’t know why I was sucking him but it was like a reflex and I couldn’t help myself. It felt so natural and I remember him cumming all over my face and then feeding me his cum with his fingers. “That’s it baby, drink his cum … you’re a cock sucking slut just like your mom … suck it all, baby …” I heard Uncle Harry saying and then he ejaculated deep inside my belly. When I looked over at Mimi I saw Henry, his huge body thrusting frantically into her, lost in the final throes of his orgasm while she held on to his shoulders. He grunted loudly emptying himself into her and then he got up and walked away. “Fuck … that was amazing!” he said, holding his penis and grinning at his friends. We must have been a sight as the three men stood there looking down at us. Periodically they would reach down to run their fingers along our freshly fucked slits, fondling our tits and stroking our hair while making crass remarks about us. “Man, did you see her cum … unbelievable … she loves it, the fuckin’ whore!” “Yeah, this slut loves it in her mouth … just like her mother!” What I found confusing was the fact that I was being turned on by their lewd remarks about us. There as something about the objective vulgarity and the indifference that I found inherently exciting and I wanted them to start fucking me again. And while Uncle Gerry helped Mimi to the bathroom, Reed stood by me stroking his cock, trying to make it hard but it didn’t respond and even after I sucked him for a while it remained soft and rubbery and I knew it was finally over … they were done. When they were leaving, I heard Uncle Gerry say, “We’re squared up … I don’t owe you anything … right?” “We’re square, buddy, I’d take this anytime over the fifty you owe us …” Reed replied and laughed as they left. Later that night while I was asleep Uncle Gerry came into the bedroom and fucked me again. It took him a very long time and all I recall was his groaning loudly as he shot his juice into me. He lay on top of me for a while and then wiped his cock on my face and left. I was the first to get up in the morning and woke up with a throbbing headache feeling like my head was about to explode. The events of the previous evening were still fuzzy in my mind, almost surreal, like a salacious dream that never really happened. But when I walked towards the bathroom, I felt really sore and noticed the dried seminal trails along the inside of my thighs and was surprised that there was still a trickle of cum oozing out from me. I took a hot shower and went into the kitchen for some breakfast – I was famished. When I walked in the first thing that caught my attention was a note on the dining table with an envelope next to it. The note was from Uncle Gerry and it said: ‘Hello girls, sorry I had to leave but thanks for the wonderful evening. There’s food in the fridge and a little something for you both. Love you like always. Gerry.’ I opened the envelope and there was five hundred dollars in it. That was a lot of money to me but I suddenly felt dirty and used. I couldn’t believe that he was trying to buy us … or pay us, like we were a couple of hookers! When Mimi came in she looked almost as bad as I did. She poured herself some coffee and read the note without saying anything. She sat at the table and stared out at the driveway and after a while got up and said. “Let’s go home.” She had taken the envelope but I knew that she didn’t want to talk about it and I was thankful – I didn’t want to either. I just wanted to forget the part about the money. I couldn’t believe that Uncle Gerry had set us up and I was struggling with my feelings for him. ******* For the next few months Uncle Gerry stayed away and life was beginning to get back to normal. Both Mimi and I took the attitude that it happened, there’s nothing we can do but move on. The worst part for me was the guilt I felt because I would masturbate thinking about the incident, especially the part where Uncle Gerry was thrusting into me. There was a strange eroticism to the powerlessness and the act of being taken … it sounds sick but many women fantasize about this. What made this even more remarkable was the fact that I don’t remember how many times I came or with whom. At the time that it happened it was irrelevant – they all felt different and had their own style of fucking. I know that my uncle made me cum several times and this could have been because I was having associative feelings based on my previous experience with him. It was all very confusing to a naïve, teenage girl. Then one day while Mimi and I were sitting on the stoop discussing her upcoming modeling jobs, Uncle Gerry stopped by. He looked dashing as ever and gave us his usual charming smile. “Hi girls … what are you up to?” He greeted us like nothing had happened. I said, “Hi … we haven’t seen you in a while?” I was also trying to act as normal as possible and felt a sudden tingling between my legs. “Business, you know … I’ve been traveling and there never seems to be enough time!” he answered without missing a beat. “You girls look so damn lovely … good enough to eat!” And then he laughed; that booming, unrestrained laugh. Mimi hadn’t said anything but was looking away from him. “How would you girls like to come over on Friday night?” He asked, speaking to Mimi. “I think not … we’ll pass!” Mimi hissed at him. “Oh, come on Mimi … don’t be like that! I know you enjoyed yourself and it will be even more fun than the last time!” he pleaded. “Really … wow! Gee, thanks but no thanks … get some of those skanks you fuck to join you!” She spat out, her voice laced with sarcasm and anger. Uncle Gerry just stood there looking at both of us with a sad expression on his face. Then he gave Mimi a manila envelope. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this but you both should watch this … you look pretty good on the screen. If you are not there on Friday evening I’ll have this posted on the internet so all your friends can see just what whores you are.” His voice was almost a whisper but it was hard to miss the sinister threat. “Look at it carefully … Friday at around seven. It’ll be fun, girls … I promise!” he smirked and then he left. So now I knew. This was the real Uncle Gerry … I was such a stupid girl. We sat there in shock and then decided to watch the DVD the next day in Robbie’s room after he left for work. Over the years he had converted the shed into an annex apartment with heat, it’s own toilet and running water which was amazing because he did it all himself. I couldn’t sleep that night and lay awake thinking about everything. I couldn’t believe that Uncle Gerry had turned out to be such a creep, at least when it came to us girls. His words about Mom being a cocksucker kept drumming in my head. Did he fuck her? Did they all fuck her? I wondered about their relationship and how it made sense; the fact that he had a key and he was there when Dad was working and maybe that’s why she didn’t want me sitting on his lap. And though Mom was in her late thirties and was the mother of five, she remained beautiful and had retained her incredible figure. She was lucky to have inherited that paedomorphic quality of youthfulness so prevalent amongst the Northern European women and I could understand why men still gave her that look – that “I’d like to do her” look. There was a nagging feeling inside me that I was like her … that I liked sex way too much and considering what had happened at Uncle Gerry’s and that it was only my second time and the fact that I had been gang-fucked and taken advantage of, I wasn’t feeling that badly in fact, the whole experience excited me. I was also certain that this was abnormal; I should have felt outraged like Mimi. Mimi couldn’t sleep either so we stayed up and talked about what had happened. She was angry at first but then reluctantly admitted that once they had begun fucking her she had enjoyed the evening but was angry that Uncle Gerry had tricked us. We also discussed the consequences of not going there on Friday and it seemed hopeless but as we talked it was a catharsis for us and every now and then I could hear her crying softly and felt badly for her. The next day I came home from school early and we snuck into Robbie’s apartment and watched the DVD together. It was strange watching myself having sex – on one hand it was exciting but mixed in were underlying feelings of remorse which I couldn’t explain. The quality of the video and audio was very good leaving no doubt about who was being fucked and it certainly seemed like we were enjoying ourselves. You could hear us moaning and responding to the men who were using us. It was just plain weird. I don’t know if my mind had just shut down or if I was in denial but I didn’t remember half the things I was looking at. There were several clips of both of us in the throes of our orgasm, writhing and moaning loudly while they were fucking or eating us. We certainly didn’t look like we were being taken advantage of and when I looked over at Mimi; she just buried her face in her hands. “I don’t believe this …” she said, “If he puts this on the net, I’ll never be able to model … people will think I’m a whore … I look like a porn star!” she sobbed. And no matter what I tried to tell her she was inconsolable. Just then Robbie walked in. “What’s going on?” He asked as he threw his jacket on the Lazy-boy. He came and sat next to me on the bed and asked again. “Hey, what’s going on … why are you crying, Mimi?” Mimi just shook her head and looked away. I was about to say something when I realized that the disc was still in the video player. “What are you watching? Robbie asked and added, “Don’t tell me you’re crying over some corny movie!” He got up and ejected the CD. The label only had the date on it and it was handwritten. He looked at it for a long time and then asked Mimi. “What’s this?” he was standing in front of her. When she didn’t answer he looked at me and said. “It’s okay, I’m not a nosy guy but if it’s upsetting you and you want to talk about it, I’m here.” Then tossing the disc on the bed he added, “I’m tired … I pulled a double shift and need to get some sleep …” He stretched sleepily so we could hear his bones adjusting and then took off his shirt. I was amazed at his body; he was so incredibly muscular and proportionate, not big and bulky like Reed but lean and sleek with skin that had a velvety sheen to it. “It’s Uncle Gerry …” I started, hoping that Mimi would join in but when she remained silent I continued, “Uncle Gerry is blackmailing us …” my voice was soft, trailing off. I knew that Robbie was fond of my uncle and wasn’t sure what he would say. He came back and knelt in front of me, raising my chin so I was looking into those burning blue eyes and said. “What did you say?” his voice intense. Then he repeated, “What did you say, Cindy … what was that about Uncle Gerry?” At that moment all I could think of was the way his skin shone and rippled like that of an animal. His body was lean and striated; ripped or shredded as the jocks would say and as he crouched, sitting on his haunches, he reminded me of a wild untamed predator ready to ambush its prey. The dim lights played eerily on his face and I realized that there was nothing of that scared little boy left inside this man. “Cindy, what did you say about Uncle Gerry?” he asked again snapping me back to reality. “It’s Uncle Gerry … he, er … well, we were over at his place and … ummm …” I stuttered not knowing how we were going to explain the mess we got into in the first place. Would I first have to explain about what had happened between Uncle Gerry and me? And how Mimi had found out and we both had gone there wanting to make love to him? What would I say? Just then Mimi blurted out. “Oh, for crying out loud Cindy, just tell him already … he fucked us both! There, so now you know and you can go crazy and kill him and get yourself thrown in jail!” Robbie didn’t say anything. He just looked into my eyes and then finally after a while said. “You had better start from the beginning … tell me what happened and I want you to know that even though I like Uncle Gerry, when it comes to the both of you, it’s a no contest! You both mean more to me than life itself.” I was taken aback by the intensity in his voice but felt reassured; like a weight was about to be lifted off of me. We took turns explaining the incident and though we omitted the more sensual details it was difficult explaining how we were taken advantage of by the three men. I could see Robbie grind his jaws as he listened. Then finally when we had finished he got up and said. “Alright, you both get to bed … don’t worry about this, I’ll have a word with him.” “Robbie, don’t do anything crazy … please! Promise me you won’t … please …” Mimi said as we were about to leave. “I’m not going to do anything … you know I like Uncle Gerry … what am I going to do? I’ll just speak to him, that’s all!” He assured her. When we left his room I knew I was leaving the disc behind and remember thinking that I should take it with me … I’m not sure why but I didn’t. ******* “A mighty pain to love it is, And 'tis a pain that pain to miss; But of all pains, the greatest pain It is to love, but love in vain." From Anacreon, Abraham Cowley
Later that night, while taking a shower I was thinking about the DVD and having second thoughts struggling with what Robbie might construe should he watch it and decided to get it back. I checked the driveway where he normally parked his truck and seeing that it was gone I headed for the shed. The door was locked so I peeked in the side window through the opening in the slats of the wooden blinds and was shocked by what I saw. Robbie was lying naked on the bed, lazily stroking his root while watching the video of my uncle fucking me. When the scene would shift to Mimi, he would go back and replay the one with Uncle Gerry and me over and over again while his fingers sensuously traversed the length of his shaft. I was transfixed; I couldn’t believe what I was seeing and couldn’t tear my eyes off of his throbbing manhood. It had a much nicer shape than the three I had experienced and was about average in size. It was slender with a red, shiny plum shaped dome that seemed to expand each time he stroked upwards. I found myself getting excited and quickly walked away from the window and went back to my room. Mimi was asleep and the rest of the house was quiet; I guess everyone had turned in for the night. I lay in bed my mind filled with thoughts of Robbie and what I had seen and was trying to reconcile the affect that it was having on me – my entire being was tingling and I realized that it was more than a sexual response. I had never thought of my brother in that way before and was confused about the churning emotions coursing through me. It had made me hot and excited in a very different way; from a place stemming somewhere deep inside me fusing my heart and my pussy within the strings of emotional bondage. I began rubbing myself through my panties thinking about his cock and his face, his eyes and his body and all the years I had run to him. The images seemed scrambled and erratic as I ran my fingers slowly along the length of my cunt spreading my lips and pushing the silky material into my slit. I whispered his name and could feel the wetness gradually seeping through my undies when I heard the door handle turn startling me into stillness. The door opened and I saw Robbie’s silhouette against the backdrop of the nightlight. He stood looking into the room for a moment and then closed the door behind him. My heart literally skipped a beat and I rolled over onto my side facing him, pretending that I was sleeping wondering what he was doing here. He first went over to Mimi’s bed and leaned over her staring intently into her face and seemingly convinced that she was asleep, he came up behind me. I was tempted to get up but remained frozen curled up and still feigning sleep. For a while everything was still and then I felt the edge of the comforter being raised ever so slowly and I was sure he could hear my breathing and the thudding of my heart which was drumming loudly in my head like a jackhammer on steroids but he just stood there, unmoving, crouched silently behind me. Then I heard him whisper. “Cindy? Hey baby, are you awake?” I remained silent. He had pulled the comforter down below my waist and I felt the cold air chill my body but I lay motionless waiting to see what he would do. I didn’t have to wait very long. I felt the mattress give and heard the soft, muffled squeaking of the bedsprings as he got in beside me sliding against my body while he pulled the covers up over us. He shifted a little adjusting himself so we were spooned together with his arm around my stomach. We lay there without moving our hearts beating hard and fast hammering to the staccato rhythm of our sexual drums. His fingers moved up and began massaging my breasts over my satin camisole toying with my nipples, rubbing them and then pinching them very gently. The silky texture of the satin and the contrasting feel of his fingers were incredibly erotic and I felt the jolts of electricity shooting through me, racing to the nexus of my cuntal-core making me convulse and leak like a dripping faucet. I couldn’t believe how hot I was. He kissed the side of my neck, licking and nibbling on my earlobes while he manipulated my nipples. I could now feel his cock throbbing against the crack of my ass, the warmth searing my slit like a red-hot skewer and I felt this ache deep in my heart like a vice squeezing my chest. It dawned on me at that very moment that I had always been in love with my brother. I was having difficulty breathing as the sensations of his mouth on my neck and earlobe were conjoined by the pleasure pulses shooting through my nipples as he continued to squeeze and pinch them with his thumb and forefinger. And as my body responded, my hips undulating and pushing back against his rampant shaft, I knew the time for the charade was over. I turned towards him, my mouth searching for his and once we were lip-locked his tongue snaked into my mouth twisting and swirling, wrestling with my own while we explored each other’s mouths, tasting each other for the first time. It is impossible to recreate the heightened sensuality which accompanies the eroticism of the first encounter but for me, this thing with Robbie … this was simply non pareil; an ethereal brush with paradise. Time was now an imposter whose identity had been unmasked and was suddenly rendered bare against the racy backdrop of our sexual liaison; of intercourse between siblings. How intrinsically pure can this be? How essentially unselfish was a love a sister has for her brother and a brother for his sister? How can something this beautiful be wrong? It really didn’t matter anymore. The questions I had before were suddenly rendered unimportant and I wasn’t unsure at all. In fact, if there was one thing I was sure of it was that I wanted his cock inside me. I couldn’t tell whether I had stripped myself or whether he had undressed me but we were both naked and his head was between my thighs under the comforter with his tongue fluttering over my cunt playing streaming wet melodies of carnal bliss on the strings of my clit. I felt his fingers push into me, at first only one and then he added a second, filling me up sawing in and out of me while he sucked on my little node. I could hear him making muffled noises, soft growls of pleasure, while he lapped hungrily at the juices streaming from my vagina as my body was being washed over by the waves of my orgasm. I wasn’t sure when it had started and when it had finished or whether it would ever finish. He kept on licking me and I kept on cumming … creaming on his face and tongue drenching him with my pussy juice like only a good little sister could. I wasn’t sure how long he stayed between my legs with his mouth attached to the petals of my swollen core but I don’t recall my orgasm ever ending only that after what seemed like an eternity he was suddenly on top of me, his hard muscular body covering mine and his cock plunging into my wet, slick canal. I was writhing in ecstasy lost within the fog of our pleasure when I heard him. “Oh baby, I’ve wanted this for so long … little Cindy … little sister, my baby …” he whispered softly while he continued to pump into me. I didn’t remember much after that. I may have passed out or maybe it was just too overwhelming but the next morning when I woke up he was gone and I wondered if it had all been a dream except that I could feel his cum on me … in me … and, I could even taste him. I was euphoric. I went looking for Robbie but he had left for work. I found an envelope on his bed and inside, a note which simply said: “I love you, little Cindy. I have always loved you!” ******* The police wouldn’t tell us much except that on that Friday night Robbie had walked in and confessed. They had found Uncle Gerry and four other men who had been beaten to a pulp. Uncle Gerry had suffered a serious concussion, a broken jaw and a fractured eye socket. He was never the same again. Reed was in a coma and the others would never walk, not without some help. The cops had found a bloodied baseball bat in Robbie’s car. “That boy was never any fuckin’ good … just plain bad seed. I knew it the day he was born!” was all my father could say. Prologue: Cindy knocked on the door and waited. It was late and the cab was gone so she was hoping against hope that someone was home. All she had left now was fifteen dollars and nowhere to go. She knocked again bracing against the cold and after a while, the door opened. They stood there looking at each other in disbelief and then she ran into the arms of her brother. “Legend tells of a Mystic, Born also from the ashes of the Phoenix, An ageless Warrior dark and ruthless, He rides the rainbow on a flaming Lotus, From Egypt to Eurasia to the Americas, Seeking those with injustice, And in his wake, blood and death and sorrow; needing Atonement. But the tears of the resplendent Fire Bird, Heals the souls of the wounded; seeking only Love.”
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<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/incest/from-the-ashes-of-the-phoenix.aspx">From the Ashes of the Phoenix</a>