Finding Tim
A Fourth Alternate Reality

 by: Charlie

© 2005-2014

 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

 

Episode 200
Stories 

 

My God, have we gotten to Episode 200?  This is your narrator, Charlie, and, yes, indeed, we have gotten to Episode 200.  I have no idea how many readers are still with me, but for those of you who are still hanging in there, I have a few words: First, thank you.  A writer needs readers to make any sense of the act of writing.  Second, to those of you who have sent me an email about this story, a double thank you–first for reading, and second for letting me know.  All I need is an “I’m still with you,” kind of email, but anything else you’d like to say would be welcome.

 

Let’s look to the future.  There is about a decade of story left to tell.  Since there are well over 100 Gang members, and all of whose stories could be told, this could be drug out another hundred or so episodes.  Whether you consider this good news or bad news:  it won’t happen.  Not all of the Gang members do things as exciting as Tim, Auggie, Shel, and some others.  There are, in fact, in our Gang some fairly average achievers.  Not to denigrate their lives, but they don’t provide the exciting storylines that some others of the Gang do.  Nor do they have sexual histories that titillate or arouse.  So I won’t be telling a hundred plus stories to get us through the decade of approximately 2002 to 2014.  And, yes, if that suggests that this will end this year, you'd be right–at least that's my intention.  However, when this started in 2005 I expected it to be finished in 2006 at about Episode 30 or 40.  The Gang has a habit of taking over a story.  So, no promises about the future.  I just wanted to share my current thinking.  Of course, living with Tim I have gotten used to “current thinking” being overturned very easily.  Sailing in Australia, for example.

 

So, what to do with Episode 200?  It is quite a landmark.  In Episode 100 I did some imagining.  For 200 I thought I’d try something a little different.  As I have been writing this I have, from time to time, remembered little short stories or incidents that happened to someone in the Gang, but which weren't sufficient for a full episode, and somehow didn't fit into any of the episodes as I wrote them.  That doesn’t mean they aren’t good stories.  So maybe this is a good place to tell them.  I thought they were fun or interesting when I first heard them, and when I recalled them later.  I hope you do, too.

 

One: The Slip.  (Told by Charlie.)

 

As the youngest COGs (not yet referred to in that way) learned to talk there was a concern in the Gang about what they might say in school, to little friends, or to little friends’ parents.  We came to refer to this as the Show and Tell Syndrome or STS.  Over the years our fears in this regard turned out to be groundless.  The COGs were mature beyond their years and easily understood the difference between public and private, and simply didn’t discuss private things outside the family or, as they got older, the Gang.

 

But a few slips happened; luckily no serious ones.  Louise, second child and first daughter of the foursome–Jim, Andy, Kara and Amy–was eating lunch at the home of another boy in her grade at middle school, Arnie Kieffer.  I suppose that she con­sidered Arnie to be her boyfriend, and Arnie probably thought of her as his girlfriend.  They'd gone to a few movies together, visited the mall together, and had a couple of meals together at restaurants.  They'd played at each other’s houses, and had meals there.  “The slip” occurred at one of the meals at Arnie’s house.  It was a Saturday noon and they were eating in the kitchen with Arnie’s mother, Ethel.  Somehow they got talking about where she'd been born (in Deaconess Hospital in Grand Forks) and then where Arnie'd been born (in the same hospital).

 

Then Louise turned to Mrs. Kieffer and asked, “Why didn’t you have Arnie circumcised?”

 

Mrs. Kieffer was totally flustered by the question, and responded with total silence.  Arnie turned red as a beet.  Slowly it sank in to Louise that she had just made a serious faux pas.  And it slowly sank in that it was a serious faux pas on two levels: First, one did not talk about circumcision with a playmate’s (or boyfriend’s) parents.  Second, just how did Louise know that Arnie wasn't circumcised?

 

Louise managed to speak first.  “Oh, my goodness, I’m sorry.  That was sort of out of place.”

 

Arnie said, “I guess.”

 

Mrs. Kieffer asked, “Do you talk about things like that in your home?”

 

That sort of put Louise on the spot.  If she answered, “Yes,” what kind of pandora’s box was she opening.  “No,” seemed to suggest other, equally serious problems.  She chose honesty, “Yes.  I have pretty open commun­ication with my parents.”

 

Mrs. Kieffer thought about that for a minute and said, “Yes, you seem to.”

 

By this time Arnie had realized that the obvious conclusion his mother was coming to was that he and Louise had been playing doctor, strip poker, or some such that would've let her see that his penis was uncut.  But she'd never seen him naked; there'd never been any kind of sex between them.  He managed to ask, “How do you know that I wasn’t circumcised?”

 

Mrs. Kieffer had gathered her wits about her and was ready to take command.  “Well, Arnie, that seems fairly obvious.  You and your little girl­friend have been doing things you shouldn’t have been doing.”

 

Arnie said, “No, we haven’t.”

 

Louise realized that she had to rescue the situation, and the answer to Arnie’s question wasn’t very difficult.  But it was likely to be embarrassing to him.  She said, “It’s kind of a long story.  But it needs to be told, because you need to understand that Arnie and I haven’t been playing with each other without clothes on.  Boys play a lot with each other in elementary school, but except when they have sleep-overs with a little friend, then don’t undress in front of each other.  Well, maybe at a swimming pool, but not that often.  When they get to middle school they start taking a real gym class, and they all take showers together.  Boys see a lot of other penises for the first time.  In North Dakota, almost all of those penises are circumcised.”

 

“How does an eighth grade girl know this?  I’m not sure that I’m that well informed about the penises of little boys in North Dakota.”

 

“Girls talk in school.  And some of us have a good enough relationship with our parents to asked our parents if the stuff we hear in school is correct.  So, what I know about boy’s penises comes from other girls in school and what my parents have told me.”

 

“How does this relate to Arnie.”

 

“Arnie should tell the next part of the story.  I’m not really sure I know it.  But I can guess, if he doesn’t want to tell.  Arnie, what happened the first few times you took a shower with the other seventh grade boys?”

 

“I got asked why my penis was different.  I got teased a little.  I had to show them that if I pulled my foreskin back my penis was just like theirs.  It was no big deal; after a few days nothing more was said about it.”

 

Mrs. Kieffer asked, “Why didn’t you tell your father or me?”

 

“It was no big deal.  Besides, we never talked about my penis.  The only way that I really understood what circumcising meant was after I had a sleep-over with Billy Jackson.  We compared penises at his house, and he knew that the difference was that he'd been cut–that was his word.  He also taught me the word circumcised.”

 

Mrs. Kieffer was still not convinced that there hadn’t been hanky-panky going on between Louise and Arnie.  She asked Louise, “So how did you learn that Arnie wasn’t circumcised?”

 

“After teasing Arnie, there was some considerable conversation among the boys in the class about circumcision.  I’m not sure how this passed from the boys to the girls, because in seventh grade there isn’t much conversation between boys and girls about anything sexual.  My guess is that Frankie Akron talked to his sister Betsy, who happens to be in the same grade, even though they're a little over a year apart, who then talked to different girls.  I’ve heard it several times from different girls.  Middle school girls like to talk to other middle school girls about boys and sex and penises.  So I knew Arnie wasn't circumcised.  When I asked my question I was forgetting that I wasn’t with my parents, but with Arnie’s mother and that the question probably wasn’t appropriate!  Please believe me, I've never seen Arnie’s penis, and I’m not really clear as to how it would be different from a circumcised penis.”

 

“Is that true, Arnie?  You two have never undressed in front of each other?  Or anything like that?”

 

“Honest, Mom, no.”

 

“She never said, ‘Arnie, I wonder what an uncircumcised penis looks like.  Will you show me?”

 

Both Arnie and Louise said, “No, never.”

 

We’ll never know whether Mrs. Kieffer believed them, but she had no choice with the two of them saying exactly the same thing.  And they were being honest as well.

 

The conversation around the dinner table that night at the home of the foursome was animated.  The whole thing was thought to be very funny, and they had a good laugh.  But they also cautioned Louise, and her siblings, that they had to be very careful about what they said to people outside the Gang.  Sexual topics, and certainly circumcision, were generally off limits.

 

The incident sort of ended the relationship between Arnie and Louise.  But on a class picnic at the end of eighth grade Louise got Arnie aside and asked him to take a little walk with her in the woods beside the picnic area.  He agreed, and I suppose he knew what was coming.  As soon as they got out of sight of the other kids and teachers Louise said, “OK, Arnie, I want to see what an uncircumcised penis looks like.”

 

He unzipped his fly and pulled out his penis.  Louise said, “No, no.  I really want to see it.  Pull your pants down.”

 

He did.  And she said, “Now show me what you showed the other boys about pulling the skin back.”

 

He said, “I have to have a boner to do that.  If you pull your pants down and let me see what you look like, I’ll get a boner.”

 

She did pull down her pants and let him look.  And it did, indeed, arouse him to full mast.  At that point he was able to show her how his skin could be pulled back to expose the head which looked the same as the head of a circumcised penis.

 

Then, since he'd been a good sport, she took her fingers and opened her vulva so he could see a good bit of what was inside.  They never touched, and quickly both had their pants pulled back up.  And they never had anything to do with each other again.

 

Two: Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire (Told by Big Paul Weeks)

 

My wife, Amanda, coordinated the environmental education program for the Ironwood School District for a number of years, and had just been hired to do the same job for the Gogebic-Ontonagon Intermediate School District, which included the Ironwood Schools as well five other local school districts that covered Gogebic and Ontonagon Counties.  The job essentially extended her scope to all six districts, not just Ironwood.  It also extended her interests to a second county: Ontonagon.

 

An election was pending in Ontonagon County for county commissioners, and in one of the districts of the county a man named Richard Gravel was running.  The entire environmental community was aghast at his candidacy, for he was opposed to almost anything “green” that you could imagine.  He was opposed by a young woman, Mary Richardson, who'd been involved in the PTO and whom Amanda knew to be competent and on the side of the angels–at least the environmental angels.  She was also given not much of a chance of winning because of her age, gender, and “liberal” politics.

 

Amanda drove over to Ontonagon Village (most people would call it a “town” but legally, in Michigan, it’s a “village”) to hear a candidates forum and support Mary Richardson in any way that she could.  There were five districts in the county, and two candidates per district.  That evening two of the dis­tricts would be featured: Ontonagon and its nearest neighbor.  Richard Gravel was the third speaker, and he was allotted ten minutes.  In the strange politics of the Upper Peninsula, Gravel was the conservative (by far) candidate, but also the Democrat.  Richardson was a Republican, but at least in terms of educa­tion and the environment was definitely the liberal.

 

As Gravel’s speech wound down he started listing his bona fides as a Democrat.  He was good pals with the Governor, and was proud of the fact that he knew Lyndon Johnson well enough that Lyndon and Ladybird had entertained him at their ranch.  The business of Gravel being entertained at the Johnson ranch didn’t ring true with Amanda.  She came home and told Paul that she thought the man had made the whole thing up.

 

Paul asked, “You really want to defeat that guy, don’t you?”

 

“Oh, Paul.  He would be a disaster on the county commission.”

 

“Well, let’s get a member of the Gang that's been to the ranch to come to the next candidates forum.  A few key questions should allow him to get his foot in his mouth, and then you can jerk it out again.”

 

“Who should be invite?”

 

“Not Tim or Charlie, they're too well known and your Mr. Gravel might smell a rat.  I think it should be Jim or Andy.  They’re from Michigan so they won’t seem so much like outsiders.”

 

In the actual event, both Jim and Andy drove over to Ironwood from Grand Forks to join Paul and Amanda for the next candidates forum, about three weeks later, in the unincorporated town of White Pine.  Amanda didn't sit near Jim or Andy, because she'd become known to Gravel’s camp as an opponent, and she didn’t want Jim or Andy to be thought of in that way.

 

The speeches proceeded much as the previous forum and much to their delight Gravel repeated his boast about being invited to the Johnson ranch in Texas–to the huge crowd of about thirty-five that was in attendance.  In the question and answer period Jim stood up and asked how Gravel had known Lyndon Johnson so well that he'd been to his ranch.  It seems that they had met several times in various political meetings and in his usual expansive way Lyndon had invited him to the ranch.  Gravel admitted that Lyndon may have been surprised to have his invitation accepted, but he made good.  Gravel and his wife were invited along with several other couples to whom Johnson owed political favors.  It all sounded very reasonable, and Amanda was worried that it might very well all be true.

 

Andy, sitting apart from Jim, asked, “Gee, that’s really interesting.  Tell us something about the ranch.”

 

That led to some very obvious make-believe on Gravel’s part, and a follow-up question from Jim about the bunkhouse did him in.  It was obvious that he'd never been to the ranch, and as soon as that was certain Jim signaled to Amanda that she could go in for the kill.

 

Amanda stood up and got the attention of the moderator of the forum.  She didn’t mince words.  “Mr. Gravel, you're lying to this group of citizens of Ontonagon County.  You've never been to the Johnson ranch on the Ped­er­nales in Texas, but you've claimed to have been there in two different candidates forums.  Do you deny that you've been lying to us?”

 

“I certainly do deny it.  Lyndon invited me and the missus for a weekend about fifteen years ago.  And we accepted, and we went.  Who says other­wise?”

 

Andy stood up, “I do.  My friend Jim here and I were indeed at the Johnson ranch–we’ve got photographs here to prove it–and you don’t have a clue what it looked like, and clearly have never been there.  You're a liar.”

 

Chaos broke out in the meeting, and the moderator spent at least ten minutes trying to bring order back to the room.  He finally did, and announced that there'd be no more discussion of the Johnson ranch.  The meeting moved on and focused on the other candidates.  But the damage had been done.  Amanda had made sure that a reporter from the Ironwood Daily Globe was present.  The Daily Globe was the main local paper for the western UP, and was read by many people in Ontonagon.  The reporter talked to Jim and Andy, finding out who they were and where they were from (Alma and Flint before they moved to North Dakota), when they'd been to the Johnson ranch, and what they could tell him about it.  The easily pointed out the errors and misstatements in Gravel’s answers to their questions, and produced a tape of his answers to settle any doubts about what he had claimed.

 

It took the reporter only twenty minutes the next morning to call the city desk at the Austin Daily Herald, introduce himself and explain the purpose of his call, be connected to a reporter familiar with the ranch, read Gravel’s answers to the reporter, and be told: “Whoever said those things has never been to that ranch.  It’s way off base.  If he claims he was there, he’s lying.”

 

“Another question, please.  Is their any record of who's visited the ranch?”

 

“Yes and no.  Newspaper coverage misses a lot of guests, unless they're pretty important.  The Secret Service has a master list, of course, but they aren’t quick to share it.  I guess an FOIA request would get it, but it would take you much too long for your purposes.  You might try the Johnson Library here in Austin.”

 

A call to the library yielded wonderful results.  Yes, they had a list.  Who did the reporter want to know about?  He started with a test name, Andy Oldfield.

 

“Yes, Mr. Oldfield was at the ranch, in 1970, with a large group from Washington.”

 

“Is there a Richard Gravel on the list?”

 

After a pause, “No, there never was a visit to the ranch by a Richard Gravel.”

 

“Thank you, very, very much.”

 

The headline in the next day’s Daily Globe read, “GRAVEL CAUGHT LYING, Never Made the Trip to Johnson Ranch.”  His candidacy was finished, and he was the laughing stock of the county for about a week, and then was forgotten.  Even sweeter for Amanda, it was too late for the Democrats to put another name on the ballot and Mary Richardson became a shoo-in.  And the icing on the cake was that from then on Amanda had a good friend in local politics–always a good thing for a school administrator, especially one that wanted to affect environmental public policy!

 

Three: Orgy (Told by Bob Carson)

 

Charlie started this episode by noting that not all Gang members are as spectacular as Tim, and some others, and he could've included himself.  He notes that in the Gang are “some fairly average achievers.”  Well, my wife, Jude, and I are among them.  To understand me better, you might like to re­read Episode 144-Shadow.  I’ll simply add to that that I've managed to continue my life until now without the return of either of the emotions of shadow or guilt.

 

It’s not that I haven’t been successful in life.  I went to work for the United States Postal Service in 1997 and in 2001 I was made Postmaster of Grand Forks–a promotion record to be proud of.  In Gang terms, average.  It is interesting that little old average me warranted a whole one of Charlie’s episodes, to explain about being happy while being average.  That’s how ab­normal it is to be normal in the Gang!

 

Jude and I led a happy life.  She was a stay-at-home mom for our daughter Cindy, who'd been born just at the end of the 20th century, in December of 2000.  Our friends consisted of a few neighbors, the parents of some of Cindy’s classmates, a few coworkers at the Post Office, and the Gang.  By far the largest group was the Gang, and they dominated our social life almost as much as Cindy did our home life!  Jude and I had a wonderful sex life–it had started on the beach in Spain, extended through high school and college, and had continued undiminished throughout our married life.  But, remember, we're children of the Gang.  Our sex lives included the Gang on a regular basis.

 

And that leads me to my story.  Mind you, we, and virtually all of the Gang, stand in the shadow of Max when it comes to sex.  Of course, since he isn’t married, and intends to stay that way, he has to take every opportunity that comes his way.  But Max doesn’t wait for opportunities, he makes them.  So every month or so we’d hear from Max.  He’d invite us to dinner at some restaurant, and we’d end up in Gangland.  Once, he took us to dinner in Fargo, and we ended up in a motel in Moorhead.  Max explained that he loved to cross the state line for illicit purposes.  On other occasions he’d simply invite himself to dinner.  We knew that meant that he planned to stay the night.

 

What were our nights like?  Wild and wonderful.  There was nothing that Max wouldn’t do and nothing that Max wouldn’t let you do to him.  He seemed quite content to let us call the shots, but every now and then expressed an opinion.  Most recently he said, “Let me watch you two fuck.  Do it the way you most often do it, or any way you like.”

 

I’ll have to confess that the missionary position was our most common position, and that’s what we did.  I’ll always love Max for his not making a single comment about our lack of creativity in sexual position.  All he said was, “Look, that’s gotten me hot, who wants to alleviate my tension?”  We both did, taking turns.

 

One recent evening he called us on the phone and invited us to dinner at his house for the coming Friday.  Max is Merle’s son, and he lives at the vastly expanded home that now houses Tina and Merle, Viv and Milt, Viv’s parents Helen and Arthur, Max, and Max’s business partners Bud and Jennie.  Since every meal invitation from Max was also an invitation to a sexual liaison, we had to wonder what he had in mind at this new location.

 

Among other things, Max is a great cook.  He had a layout of hors d’oeuvres which were unusual, unnamed, and delicious.  He refused to say much about them, noting that if we knew what was in them, we might not eat them.  The main dish was a pork roast stuffed with cabbage (which we could identify) and other things (which we could not) and covered with a really wonderful lemon sauce.  To the side were twice-baked potatoes and aspar­agus.  The meal, with all eleven of us at the table, was delicious and the con­ver­sation stimulating.  Sex was never mentioned.

 

However, we quickly got the message of Max’s intentions for the evening when dessert arrived.  It was vanilla ice cream frozen in the dishes it was served in.  Max had softened the ice cream and colored it a perfect flesh color before it'd been refrozen.  Each service for a man was perfectly shaped like a lovely girl’s boob, with the nipple carefully shaped out of strawberry ice cream.  Each dish served to a woman was in the shape of a penis, ramrod hard and sticking straight up from the dish, with the head carefully shaped out of the same strawberry ice cream.  He passed a special topping, sweet and gooey, that looked exactly like cum.  He got raves for his artistry from the other residents of the house, but they were sort of on the order of, “Gee, Max, you really got it right this time.”  Jude and I were simply bowled over.  We’d never seen anything like it, and I don’t think we ever will again.  The ice cream, and the topping, were very good, once you got over the idea of what you were eating!

 

Dessert left no misunderstanding about where the evening was going.  But Jude and I had no idea how it was going to play out with eleven of us.  You may remember, from previous descriptions of the house, that in the center was a huge great room.  When dessert was finished, we headed there, and as soon as our hosts got into the room they very casually stripped naked.  It was clear that they intended us to follow suit and we did.  Max stood in the center of the room–I think that somehow he was the only man in the room not sporting a woody–and said, “Well, there are several ways this could play out.  We could just turn out the lights and let you all grope.  We could do the same thing, but with the lights on; that way you could choose your partners easily.  There are a variety of ways that we could pair up–randomly, letting our guests choose, all gay (there'd be some trios) or all straight (some pair would have to welcome an extra boy)–and once paired we could find privacy around the house, we could let it all hang out in this room, or we could put a stage in the middle and let each pair or trio perform for the rest of us.  Jude and Bob, what's your pleasure?  It doesn’t have to be limited to my suggestions.”

 

Jude asked, “Max, how often do you have orgies like this?”

 

Tina spoke up, “We never use the word orgyGroup sex is OK, because it accurately describes what's about to go on.  If you look in the dictionary you'll find that the word orgy implies drunkenness, excess, lack of control, lack of restraint.  Nothing that Max just described would involve those things: not because they couldn’t happen, but because we aren’t going to let them happen.  This is the Gang.  We are talking first, and we are going to respect everyone’s comfort zone.  And one other thing, There are some parents and children here, and they're going to respect the incest taboo.”

 

I said, “How do you avoid incest, if you randomly pair people up?”

 

Tina said, “Unacceptable pairs are simply re-paired.”

 

Jude said, “OK, you asked what we’d like.  I'm speaking for myself, but I’ll state a preference.  I like the idea of a stage, and consecutive perform­ances.  And I’ll suggest some pairings: First, I want to see Milt and Viv.  I’ve heard about their special relationship, and I’d like to see it in action.  Then I’d like to see Max with Helen; I’m told he’s a favorite with the ladies.  Then Tina and Bud, for no particular reason.  Then I’d like to pair with Jennie; I spend enough time with a man.  And that leaves Bob, Merle, and Arthur for a grand finale.”

 

Max exclaimed, “I knew you two would fit right in, but I honestly thought we might have to beg you to state a preference.  Not you, girl.  That’s wonder­ful, and I think I can speak for everyone here.  We’re ready.”

 

Bud, Milt, Max, and Bob headed down a hall and returned dragging a queen-size mattress, which was put in the middle of the great room.  A lovely silken sheet was spread over it and tucked in.  Then Milt said, “Viv, we all want to see you masturbate.”

 

Viv instantly responded by hopping on the mattress, laying down, spreading her legs, and fingering herself.  He lay beside her and sucked her tits while her hand worked below.  Soon she had a massive orgasm, and Milt kissed her all over, beginning with her genital area and ending with her lips.  He whispered in her ear, and she immediately got on her knees between his legs and sucked him, while she tickled his balls with her hands.  When he'd come, she kissed him and they obviously shared her meal.  We thought they were finished, but Milt rolled over and shoved his ass in the air.  Viv immedi­ately put some lube on her fingers and shoved up his ass to find his prostate, which she massaged for a while.  Milt didn’t have a second orgasm, and soon collapsed on the mattress with Viv beside him.  They were spent.

 

Max stood up and walked over to where Helen was sitting, took her hand and helped her up.  They walked to the mattress and he gave her his arm to help her get down–the perfect gentleman.  He asked, “I assume you’d like to be fucked, m’lady.  In what position?  And am I to be a lion or a lamb?”

 

“A lion, and lion style.”

 

Helen was on her back, but he rolled her over onto her stomach; rather roughly, it seemed.  Then he leaned over her, grabbed her hips, and heaved  them into the air, so she ended on her knees.  His hands were instantly all over her butt, into her ass, then into her genitals with his other hand, then on her boobs.  Then he took his dick in his hand, aimed well, and shoved inside her vagina, successful the first time.  Clearly “lion style” to Max and Helen is “doggie style” to the rest of us.  His rhythm was almost violent, and Helen responded by bouncing on her knees, and making wonderful groans.  His hands were firmly on her boobs, and the two were almost wild together.  Their orgasms were virtually simultaneous, and they collapsed, laying on their sides, facing each other and holding each other tightly.

 

They lay there quite contentedly, until finally Jude asked Arthur, “Doesn’t it bother you to see Helen have sex with Max, and certainly doesn’t his roughness bother you?”

 

Arthur answered, “Well, a few years ago I would've been bothered.  But you have to remember several things.  First, when we got involved with this crowd, and now others in the Gang, like you two–and Max was the first one we had any kind of sex with–our sex life together has vastly improved.  Second, I simply couldn’t bring myself to treat Helen the way Max does, and she loves it.  Max can be as gentle as a lamb, and sometimes that’s what Helen wants, but she usually asks for a lion, which is what she got tonight.  And, finally, both Helen and I find we love sex with kids Max’s age.  I can’t have Jennie and refuse Helen having Max.  It’s not for everyone, and not long ago I would've said that it wasn't for Helen and me.  But I would've been wrong.  Life with this group is great.”

 

Tina and Bud were next, and Tina turned to me and asked, “Jude set this all up, so, Bob, what would you like to see now.  Bud and I are up for anything.  At least I am, and I'm sure that Bud is.”

 

“We’ve seen a great fuck.  How about 69?”

 

“Your wish is our command,” said Bud.  He got on his back, and Tina got on top, with her cunt right in his face and his dick in her mouth.  69 isn't as exciting to watch as a good fuck, but clearly the two of them were having a grand time.  It appeared that Bud came first, but Tina kept his dick in her mouth until she'd climaxed.  Then she swung around and they kissed deeply.  Tina looked up and said, “That was great.  Jude and Jennie, you’re up next.”

 

Jennie went over to Jude and took her hand.  She stood up and together they walked onto the mattress.  She said, “Did you have something in mind?”

 

Jude had to admit that her lesbian experiences were very limited, and that Jennie should take the lead.  Their sex was very straightforward.  Jude lay down and Jennie moved her hands all over her, ending at her clitoris and vagina.  Then it was all repeated with her tongue.  Before Jude could climax Jennie lay over on her back and let Jude do exactly the same things to her, except that she encouraged Jude to keep going until Jennie had an orgasm.  Then they rolled over and repeated the whole process, and this time Jennie kept her tongue on Jude’s clitoris and her finger in her vagina until Jude had the most amazing orgasm.  She agreed that it was much more exciting than can be achieved with just a penis shoved in your vagina.  Lesbians are on to something.  Bob assured Jude that anything that Jennie had done to her, he could do as well.  Jude says that the next night he proved it.

 

That left the three guys, Arthur, Merle and me.  Merle took charge, and got himself and Arthur next to each other on the mattress.  Following Merle’s instruction I used hands and tongue to get them both quite aroused; then I rolled them a little so their dicks were together and I could get both in my mouth.  It took me a little while, but I didn’t let go until they'd both come in my mouth.  Then I lay on my back and they used their mouths and tongues all over me.  When they sensed that I was ready to come, Merle finished me with his hand.  Then both Merle and Arthur rubbed cum all over my chest and face.  I was then told to hug and kiss everyone in the room.  What an inter­esting mess.

 

Following Milt’s lead we all headed downstairs to where the swimming pool was.  We showered in three’s in the big shower and then headed to the pool.  It was a great way to end the evening, and I assure you that the “keep your hands to yourself” rule was repeatedly violated.  I noticed that as they moved around, Max, Milt, and Viv weren't above a few odd strokes and tweaks of pieces of their parents that technically should've been off-limits.

 

We eventually tired, got out, and showered again to get rid of the chlorine.  We were given huge, thick bath towels and headed upstairs to reclaim our clothes from the floor.  Max brought out a chocolate cake that probably should've been served with the ice cream, and we all had a little piece.  Jude and I headed home, and I presume that all of that crowd headed back to their respective quarters.  Except, that I'd been led to understand that Max seldom slept alone, and that he probably shared some couple’s bed that evening.  I don’t know.

 

OK.  I leave it up to you.  Was it an orgy?

 

Four: Spin the Bottle (Told by Fran Howell)

 

Shelly persuaded Charlie to get me to tell this story.  I’ve told it a number of times in various gatherings of members of the Gang, and it's always well received.  He wants me to tell it because it paints such a delightful picture of my parents, especially my father.  Once I hit age sixteen and could drive, I was over in Grand Forks skating during all of my free time.  In fact, it wasn’t long before Shel had arranged for me to overnight on weekends at The Lighthouse to save me driving home at night and back the next morning.  My sexual adventures began with Shelly, and have been limited to the Gang.  On the other hand, my younger sisters pretty much stayed put in Thief River Falls during their high school years.

 

The older of my two sisters was Beatrice, always called Bea.  Bea was a very pretty girl, with a little of a wild streak.  In her tenth grade year she acquired a boyfriend, Lou; they remained an item through high school; and following high school they got married.  Lou has a job with a local construction company, and Bea works as a secretary for the same company.  Two stable jobs in the northern Minnesota economy make them a fortunate couple.

 

But this story takes place in their senior year of high school.  Somehow, during their junior year a group of six couples had become very close friends.  They did a lot of things together, and often gathered at one of their houses for a weekend evening of games, dancing and good fun.  This continued in their senior year, and their second party of the fall was at Bea’s house.  The games and dancing were over, refreshments consumed, and they were sitting, or lying on the floor, two by two.  There was one low light on, but it didn’t accom­plish much, which, of course, was the idea.  All of a sudden the light switch at the top of the stairs was turned on.  The kids expected to quickly hear par­ental feet on the stairs, but instead my father called down and said, “I’ve got to go do something first, but I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

 

The struggle to readjust positions, and in some cases bits of clothing, was slowed, but by the time my father came down everybody was sitting up quite respectably

 

Dad looked around and said, “I’ll bet you all didn’t look like that when I turned the light switch.  I thought it was appropriate to give you a few minutes to get respectable for a parent’s arrival.”

 

The kids all kind of laughed, but were clearly uncertain what was coming.  If I'd been there, I wouldn’t have had a clue what was coming, and certainly Bea didn’t.  But as the daughter of the parent standing before them she was hugely embarrassed.

 

Dad continued, “You’re all seniors, nice kids, good friends, and you’ve always been very respectful of Mary and me, and I'm sure of all of your parents.  Having talked to most of your parents I also know that there's been very little conversation about behavioral boundaries.  That’s a big word for rules but I wanted to avoid the word rules.  We know from last year that you all are going to have parties like this one fairly often this year, and we think there should be a discussion of behavioral boundaries.

 

“I know, you’re all thinking, ‘How long is this going to go on?  Can’t we get if over with?’  Well, I'm hoping that we can have a discussion that won’t be a complete pain to you, and that can set the behavioral boundaries for the year.  Are you willing to continue the conversation?”

 

The twelve kids all expressed general agreement, but their reluctance was palpable.

 

“Let me continue.  There are three areas of primary concern to your parents.  Can you guess what they are?”

 

“Drinking, sex, and drugs.”  Those aren’t the words of a single person, but a synthesis of the conclusion that the group arrived at.

 

Dad continued, “Yes and no.  I'd like to be more specific: Drugs, yes.  Drinking, no; our concern is drinking and driving.  Sex, no; our concern is pregnancy.  Does it surprise you to have it put so specifically?”

 

“You’re telling us you don’t care if we drink, as long as we don’t drive?  You aren’t worried about sex as long as nobody gets pregnant?  What about drugs?”

 

“I don’t want to be seen as giving you permission to drink, or permission to be playing around sexually, but our greatest concerns are drunken driving and pregnancy.”

 

“What about drugs?”

 

“Do any of you do drugs, any kind of drugs? You can be honest here, I’m not a cop.”

 

“No.”

 

“Does that go for everybody?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Girls, are the boys telling the truth?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Boys, what about the girls?”

 

“No drugs.”

 

“Have you tried drugs of any kind?”

 

Two or three of the boys admitted to smoking a few joints.  But they swore that they'd decided it was a bad idea and hadn't continued.  That'd been more than a year before.

 

Dad said, “OK, I believe you.  If you aren’t telling the truth, then this whole conversation is worthless, but I believe you're telling the truth, and we’ll go with that.  That said, then we don’t have to say anything more about drugs.  You aren’t involved; it appears that you don’t intend to be; and if that's the case I don’t have to discuss behavioral boundaries in regard to drugs; you’ve already set them.”

 

“What about drinking?” asked Bea.  She thought that as the sort of hostess for the party she ought to be saying something.

 

Dad continued, “Is there any beer down here?  Or empty cans?”

 

One of the boys sheepishly said, “Yes.”

 

“How much?”

 

“We carried in two six packs; empties are in the corner in a bag that we’ll take away.”

 

“Are you girls drinking, or just the boys?”

 

Another boy spoke up, “Sir, you aren’t being fair to the boys.  Four of us had beers.  Rod never drinks, and Jeremy didn’t drink tonight because he’s driving.  It’s not fair to assume that all teenage boys drink.”

 

“I’m sorry.  I apologize.  Keep reminding me when I’m making unfair assumptions.  What about you girls?”

 

Bea spoke up, “All of us drink from time to time, but I don’t think we all did tonight.  I didn’t, because I didn’t want it on my breath.”

 

Dad said, “That’s fair.  So, nobody had more than two beers tonight, and the drivers had none; is that right?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Again, it appears that you've set reasonable behavioral boundaries.  Do you always stick with your, ‘No drinking if driving,’ rule?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“All of you, all the time?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“You are an amazing group.  Bea, I'm very proud of the collection of friends you've made.  OK, are you ready to talk about pregnancy?”

 

One of the boys said, “We won’t get the girls pregnant.”

 

“Are you certain?  A lot of teenagers, and adults for that matter, have thought it couldn’t happen to them and had that thought followed by a very pregnant girl.  Maybe we ought to step back a little and talk about what you're doing.”

 

“My God,” said Bea.

 

One of the boys said, “You know, if we could talk about beer and joints like we just did, maybe we can talk about sex.”

 

Dad asked, “OK, you were down here with the lights low, and were very glad that when I turned on the light I didn’t come charging down the stairs to see exactly what you were doing.  May I assume that had I done that, some of you would've been embarrassed?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“You know, the sir is very nice and respectful, but it isn’t necessary.”

 

“Sir, the way this conversation is going, you deserve the sir because it is a sign of respect.”

 

“Thank you.  OK, may I assume that whatever you were doing when the light came on you probably had most of your clothes on, but perhaps loosened a bit?”

 

“Some of us, but a couple of the couples were doing nothing more than kissing.”  That was Bea with that confession.

 

“No possibilities of pregnancy this evening?”

 

“None at all.”

 

“Good.  Now, for a tougher question.  Would I be correct in assuming that when you're alone with your girlfriend or boyfriend that more happens than what was happening tonight.”

 

The “Yes, sirs” were a little slower in coming, but they came.

 

“OK, here’s another tough one–for the girls.  Are any of you on birth control pills?  I won’t share your answers with your parents unless you tell me I can.”

 

There was a long silence, then three girls admitted to being on the pill.  The parents of only one had been involved in the decision and in obtaining a prescription.  The other two had been to a doctor in town that the teen grapevine had declared to be “safe.”  None trusted their family doctor, even though the law prohibited a doctor from telling a teen’s parents about a pill prescription–and the kids knew the law.  But they also knew the ways of a small town.

 

Dad continued, “OK, you couples that aren’t counting on the pill.  Are you using condoms, or not doing anything that could get your girl pregnant?”

 

Two couples, including Bea and Lou, admitted to using condoms and the last, Rod and Sue, said they hadn’t gotten that far.

 

Dad said, “Let me sum this up in teen terms: Of the six couple here, five are fucking and one soon will be.  Three are depending on the pill, two are depending on condoms, and one hasn’t faced the problem yet.   Have I got that right?”

 

“You know how to put it bluntly.”

 

“Don’t you use the word fuck when you talk about it?”

 

“With boys, sir.  Not with girls.”

 

“How do you talk about it with girls?”

 

“We don’t really talk about it.”

 

“You don’t talk about it; you just do it?  Is that right?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Let me ask it another way, ‘Is that right?’ as in ethical, moral or upright?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“So now you find yourself in the position that you've talked more to one of your friends’ fathers about sex than you have with your girlfriend?  Correct?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“OK, I don’t want to push this.  But let me suggest that talking is a very good idea.  And if you talk, you may decide that fucking is high risk behavior for a teenager, even with the pill or a condom.  I strongly recommend that if you are fucking, and if you've started I don’t think you're going to stop, that you use both a condom and the pill.  Neither is fail safe, but the odds are really in your favor if you use both.  A condom also provides disease pro­tection, though if you limit your partners, that probably isn’t a problem.

 

“OK, here’s the bottom line.  No drinking and driving–not one beer.  No drugs.  No fucking without double protection.  If you’ll follow those rules, cross your hearts and hope to die, or whatever kind of oath is appropriate for teenagers these days,  I speak for the parents of all twelve of you that we won’t bother you at your parties.  No sudden lights.  No sneaking in.  You keep your promise; we’ll keep ours.  Now, I want to hear it from each of you.  And then when you go home talk to your parents.  Tell them exactly what you promised, and promise them.  And one other thing:  You have to promise to tell me or your parents if you're aware of any of the other eleven not keeping their promise.  And the promise isn’t just for party nights, it's for all the time from now to graduation.”

 

“Sir, I couldn’t say, ‘No fucking without double protection,’ to my parents.”

 

“You can use the word intercourse.  But you have to be specific.  You can’t just say, ‘No sex,’ because that doesn’t mean anything.  Now, under­stand, all of your parents, at least one from each family and in most cases both, have been talking.  They’re all on board.  I'm doing the talking, be­cause, quite frankly, I was the only one brave enough to do it.  Parents have as much trouble talking to teenagers as teenagers have talking to parents.  But let’s try to get over that.”

 

Each one present repeated the promise.  Bea says each one meant it, and as far as she knows, each one followed it.  They certainly did at the parties.

 

But the next party brought a completely new conversation.  It began, “Do you believe the conversation last week?  I almost shit a brick when Mr. Howell started talking about fucking.”

 

“My parents were in the living room when I got home.  They're usually in bed.  It was obvious that they were waiting to talk.  It was also obvious that they really weren’t ready to start the conversation.  So I just took a deep breath, let it out, and said, as fast as I could, ‘I promise that I won’t drink and drive, I won’t do drugs, and I won’t let Rod fuck me without double protection.  I don’t believe I said that’.”

 

My mom said, “Neither do I, but we promise to believe you, and not to try to sneak into your parties.”

 

Lou said, “A lot was left unsaid last week.  As I heard it, our parents are comfortable with things going on down here that don’t lead to drunk driving or pregnant girls.  That’s a lot of latitude.  And it opens up a lot of things that we haven’t even thought of in this group.”

 

“What're you thinking of?”

 

“Sex.”

 

“You mean group sex?”

 

“If you like that term.  Maybe not group sex, but two by two here at our parties.”

 

“Kind of like Show and Tell?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

One of the boys said, “Look, if we’re going to explore a little, let’s try a game.  How about Spin the Bottle?  One of us will spin, and then we’ll kiss the girl it points to.  And let’s agree we’re going to really kiss, with lots of tongue.”

 

“I’d enjoy kissing all the girls here, but that really isn’t much of a game.  If we’re going to play a game, we ought to push people, expand their horizons.”

 

“What do you have in mind?”

 

“We play Spin the Bottle, but we all sit in a big circle.  If I spin I have six chances of it pointing to a girl and five chances of it pointing to a boy.  I’m not sure that I’d want to kiss Lou, but I think it'd be neat to watch Rod kiss Lou–with lots of tongue.  I’ll risk losing in order to watch other people.  That adds a little zest to the game.”

 

Lou said, “I’m game.”

 

Eventually everyone said they were game.  Lou pointed out, “You know, we've just done what Mr. Howell encouraged us to do; talk about what we were doing.”

 

“Who spins first?”

 

Rod, at whose house we were playing, said, “I’ll spin, and whomever it points to will be the first game spinner.”

 

“How long do we play?”

 

“Until eight different people have kissed or been kissed.  Then the last four pair up and kiss each other.  We start with the last person that was kissed, and the two to the right in the circle are one pair and the other two the last pair.”

 

“If we need more rules we’ll make them up as we go along.  Rod, spin.”

 

He did, and it landed on Bea.  Bea spun and it landed on Kev.  They were all sitting in a circle and she crawled over to Kev, wrapped her arms around him, pushed him to the floor, and smothered him with a huge kiss, driving her tongue inside with force.  In a while they broke the kiss and she said, “You haven’t used your tongue, I want to taste your tongue.”  She kissed him again, and this time he did push into her.  They went at it for a while and finally she relaxed her hug and they were finished.

 

Kev said, “Wow, I didn’t expect that.”  He spun the bottle and it landed on one of the girls.  They kissed, not as powerfully as Kev and Bea, but a good kiss.

 

Somebody said, “We need a new rule.  The kiss isn’t over until the group agrees, by clapping.”

 

“OK,” was the agreed response.

 

It passed girl, boy, girl, boy, and then it was back to Kev.  He spun and it landed on Lou.  This was new territory, but Kev was ready.  He pounced on Lou, kissed him, and drove his tongue in as if he were kissing his girlfriend, which he admitted later he'd dreamed he was doing.  Lou, dreaming of Bea, was ready to return the favor, and the first boy-boy kiss within the group had been a huge success.  Nobody thought of it as “gay,” and nobody seemed upset or disgusted with it.  The boys admitted it was a challenge, but they were good losers–if you want to call them losers.

 

That evening there was only one other boy-boy kiss and one girl-girl kiss, but that'd broken the ice.  The game over, the kids discussed what they might do at the next party.  Somebody said, “Spin the Bottle but instead of kissing on the lips, we kiss on the nipples.”

 

Someone else said, “And the person being kissed strips to the waist first.”

 

One of the girls said, “OK, and remember girls, no dresses and no slips or you'll be taking off more than you want in order to strip to the waist.”

 

“Are we ready for this?  Are we pushing too far, or too fast?  And where is this leading?”      

 

“The answers are, yes, no, and I don’t know.  We play next time, and talk at the end about the next time.”  All agreed.

 

Lou then said, “Look, I know we have permission to have beers, and the wine the girls brought tonight was fine.  But if we're going to be pushing the sex, alcohol is a bad idea.  I vote we leave the beer at home next time.”

 

There was some reluctance, but finally all agreed.  The girls had, in fact, thought it was a great idea and insisted.  The boys knew that kissing tits, without the girls participating, wasn’t going to be much of a game!

 

The next gathering, or party–they used both terms–was two weeks later.  It started with an interesting discussion.  Mary, one of the girls that'd been depending on condoms started it, saying, “You know, our parents were pretty open to what we’re doing, but we made a promise that kind of slows Joe and me down.  Joe’s been using a condom, and now I've agreed to get pills.  It’s going to be a while before Joe can fuck me again if we keep our promise.”

 

Rod responded, “You know, the reason for the double protection is to prevent pregnancy, not to keep our parents happy.  Since the big discussion we had with Mr. Howell, I’ve been reading a little.  Condoms are pretty ef­fective, but they figure they have about a 10% failure rate.  The rate is lower if the condom is correctly and consistently used.  The failure rate for the pill is about 9%.  That means about one out of ten girls depending on these meth­ods will get pregnant in a year.  If you put them together, the rate falls to about one in a hundred, and if you use them correctly and consistently, the rate falls to about one in two hundred.  Our parents are right about double protection.  It’s worth waiting to get established on the pill.”

 

“I have an appointment with our family doctor next week.  My mother made the appointment and let the doctor know its purpose.  I can’t believe how supportive she is.”

 

“It doesn’t mean she approves of you and Joe fucking, it means she isn’t ready for a grandchild yet.”

 

From another corner of the room, “What're we going to be doing tonight?”

 

“Kissing tits.  Is everybody ready?”

 

“You know, this starts us down the road of being naked as a group.  I guess I’m ready, but are we all ready for this?”

 

“We agreed last time that we were.  Is anybody going to chicken out?”

 

“I don’t like the phrase chicken out.  We aren’t going to do this unless everyone is ready and willing.  It doesn’t make you a chicken; it just means that group nakedness isn’t your thing, at least not yet.”

 

Joe said, “Well, I like the idea.”

 

“You’re a boy.  Boys strip to the waist all the time.  It’s different for us girls.”

 

“Next time the boys'll get theirs,” said Bea.  “They're all going to be very embarrassed about their hard-ons.”  That got laughs from all the girls.

 

“Are we ready?”

 

“Spin the bottle.”

 

Joe became the first spinner, and Lou the next boy.  Lou took off his shirt, but Joe was a little hesitant about kissing, and sucking as the group demanded, Lou’s nipples.  “Come on, Joe.  You were the one who liked this idea.”

 

“I wanted to suck a girl’s tits.”

 

“You didn’t spin right.  Lou is waiting.”  Joe accepted his fate and pushed Lou back, laid sort of on top of him, and kissed and sucked each of his nipples in turn.

 

Lou said, “Boy or girl doing it, that felt good.  I never realized how sexy my nipples could be.”  He then spun, and the bottle pointed to Mary, who stripped off her sweat shirt and told Lou to unhook her bra.  He did, and then didn’t hesitate to suck the dickens out of both of her tits.

 

Bea watched and said, “You’d better do that well with me later on tonight.”

 

The bottle passed around the room, and, following their rules, soon everyone was naked above the waist and there'd been plenty of boy-boy, boy-girl, girl-boy, and girl-girl kissing.  Someone turned on the CD player and music began, as did dancing each with their own partner.  They quickly realized that their missing clothing heightened the sexuality of the dancing.  As they prepared for the third dance, the call of, “Trade Partners,” changed the dynamic even more.  But everyone traded.  And a little later traded again, and again.  Finally someone said, “Last dance,” and everyone went back to their boy/girlfriend.  The music ended, lights were turned down, and couples found chair, couches, or floor corners to pair up in.  There was enough light to see the other couples, and watching was as popular as doing.  Bea re­ported that all the girls’ tits got a pretty good workout, as did most of the boys’.

 

As they got ready to go home, someone asked, “OK, what’s the game for next time?  More Spin the Bottle?  If so, what gets kissed?”

 

One of the boys said, “Well, it’s either kiss my ass or kiss my dick.  Either requires taking off my pants.”

 

“I’m not going to kiss your ass, so I guess that means we kiss your dick.”

 

“And we kiss the girls’... what?”

 

“You kiss the front down there, and it won’t be all that exciting.  The following week when you get your dicks sucked instead of kissed, then your tongues can explore inside.”

 

“Maybe we should start with hands instead of kissing.”

 

“No, I like kissing.”

 

“So do I.”

 

“Kissing it is.  Two weeks, at my house,” said Jeremy.  “Don’t come if you aren’t ready to lose your clothes and kiss and be kissed down there.”

 

The next party everybody arrived at Jeremy’s house ready to go.  Each couple had discussed it over the two weeks, and all had agreed that they were ready for the sex to move forward.  Bea, at least, reported and she and Lou were excited by the idea.  Bea had asked Lou, “OK, are you ready to kiss Rod’s very hard dick (it will certainly be very hard, as will yours), and to let him or other boys kiss my cunt?”

 

“Yeah, I am.  I think having some of the boy-boy and girl-girl stuff really livens up the party.”

 

“I’m not sure everyone agrees with you.”

 

“Maybe not, but nobody's backed out, and they know what’s likely to be coming.”

 

It came.  The first spinner was Kev and his spin landed on Lou.  Bea kind of giggled, and said to Lou, “OK, now we find out whether you were telling the truth.”

 

Lou was sitting on the couch next to Bea.  He started to unbutton his shirt.  Bea said, “Stand up and let us all watch you.”

 

Lou immediately understood that he was going to set the tone for the rest of the evening.  He could meet the rules by sitting on the couch, taking off his shirt, and then pulling down his pants and Jockeys while he sat.  Kev could then lean over him and kiss his dick, and nobody would really see anything.  Or, he could stand up, as Bea was suggesting, and let it all hang out.  That was the course he chose.  He stood up, finished unbuttoning his shirt, slipped it off and tossed it to Bea.  Then he stooped over and took off his shoes and socks.  Then, in as sexy a strip tease as he could muster, he opened his pants, slipped them down, and then did the same for his Jockeys.  Both he and his dick stood straight up, and he turned slowly so everyone could see.  He was hugely embarrassed, but that only assured that his dick stayed hard as a rock for Kev to kiss.  Kev got into the spirit of the evening, knelt before Lou, and made quite a ceremony of kissing the tip of his dick, then the sides, and ending by kissing both balls.

 

Lou spun the bottle and it pointed to Julie, Kev’s girlfriend.  With Kev’s encouragement, she did as good a strip tease as Lou had.  He knelt in front of her, but found that it was a little harder to figure out what to kiss than it had been for Kev.  He kissed her several times in the middle of everything, and then she spun.  She hit Bea, and the boys soon realized that the girls weren’t any better at finding something to kiss on another girl than the boys were.  One of them said, “You’ll have to wait until next time when you're allowed to push your tongue inside.”

 

Naked dancing was fun, and they changed partners often.  When they finally settled down somebody said, “OK, no fucking in this group until everyone is able to be double protected.”

 

All of a sudden the light switch at the top of the stairs clicked on and a parental voice said, “Don’t worry, I’m not coming down.  But it’s 12:30 and I know a couple of you have one o’clock curfews.”

 

The all looked sheepishly at each other, got dressed, and headed for their homes.

 

The next time it was sucking, not kissing.  And tongues were thrust into vaginal openings somewhat hesitantly–for both the boys and the girls.  The first boy on boy sucking was Joe on Jeremy.  As soon as Joe started Jeremy said, “I’ll bet you haven’t got the nerve to finish the job.”

 

Without letting Jeremy’s dick out of his mouth, Joe said, “I’ll bet I do,” in a voice they could hardly understand, but they got the idea.

 

With encouragement from the bystanders, Joe worked on Jeremy, and it didn’t take long for Jeremy to come.  Jeremy then said, “Now really finish the job.”

 

Joe understood what Jeremy meant, and did, in fact, eat all of the cum in his mouth.  Then he said, “Now you do me.”

 

Jeremy said, “I’ll spin the bottle.”  He did, but it was clear that everyone thought that turnabout was fair play, and someone stopped the bottle when it pointed to Joe.

 

Somebody said, “Spin it again, I’ll bet it stops at the same place.”  Jeremy admitted defeat, and knelt in front of Joe, sucking him hard.

 

Joe came fairly quickly, but Jeremy said, “I can’t swallow it.”  With that he spit it into a handkerchief he pulled out of his pants pocket.

 

Lou decided that this bit of inequality might be a problem and he quickly said, “Both of you guys went far beyond the rules of the game.  It was fun to watch, and I hope it was fun to do.  But nobody's going to fault Jeremy for not swallowing when that wasn’t part of the deal.”  By that time, seven of the twelve were naked.  Lou suggested that the other five strip, one by one, and pick the person they wanted to suck them.  Everyone seemed happy to end the game, and the final sucking was quick, non-orgasmic, and anticlimactic.  They skipped the dancing, paired up in their regular pairs, and Bea is certain that everyone there had an orgasm before the evening was out.

 

And that ended Spin the Bottle.  By the time they next got together, all the girls but Sue were on the pill and had been declared safe by their doctors.  Sue and Rod had decided that they weren’t ready for fucking, but that didn’t stop their having a good time.  They pointed out that oral sex was one of the best means of birth control.  In fact, Sue and Rod began a new routine that became standard for the group.  At each gathering one couple showed off for the others.  It began with Sue and Rod showing how much fun they could have without fucking.  And, yes, Sue swallowed every bit that she could suck out of Rod.  After watching a couple of couples fuck, the next couple, Lou and

Bea, decided that variety was the spice of life.  He ass-fucked her and while he did it, he used his hand to bring an almost simultaneous orgasm.  Most other couples weren’t that creative.  By spring, graduation, college planning, the Prom, and other things began to get in the way of their gatherings.  They had one final romp about a week before graduation, and that ended it.  Even though several of the couples remained in Thief River Falls, as adults they never got sexually involved with each other again.  In fact, even though they remained friends, they never spoke of their high school adventures.

 

Bea’s comment was, “I hope that they remember it all when they have teenagers.”

 

And an epilogue.  Fran heard that story from her sister not long after her sister’s graduation.  It was several months before she asked her father about it.  After he'd confirmed the little speech he'd made to the group she asked, “Daddy, weren’t you concerned about what they were doing in the basement?  Did you have any idea what they were doing?”

 

“Your mother and I were teenagers, and I don’t think that there's much Bea and her friends did that we didn’t do.  And we did it with a few of our friends.  There were two differences.  First, a good friend of ours got preg­nant.  This was the early seventies; abortion had just become legal, but it wasn’t widely available, and a lot of people disapproved.  Our friend had been intimate with several boys and didn’t know who the father was.  She went away, had the baby, and put it up for adoption.  But she never got over it, and her life was ruined: she was never able to sort herself out.”

 

“And the other difference?”

 

“Sue and Dan, two of the kids we played around with sexually.  We had traded off, done two on one, lots of things.  One night we were out with them and Dan was drinking too much.  I asked him to let me drive, and he did.  I offered to drive him home and take the car back to my house.  I would've taken it back the next morning.  But Dan insisted he could drive, so I took your mother home and then drove to my house, when Dan took over the driving.  I thought he'd had enough time since his last beer, but there was another in the glove compartment I didn’t know about.  Neither he nor his girl made it home.  There was an open can of beer in the car when they found them in a ditch beside the road.

 

“Your mother and I were determined that there'd be no pregnancies and no drunk driving in your and your sisters’ lives.  If your sisters wanted to play sex games in our basement, that was a fair trade.  And I'm sure that you haven’t been idle over there in Grand Forks.  Just stay away from drunk drivers and don’t get pregnant until you and Shelly are ready.”

 

“I promise, Daddy.  But I've been spending the night over  in Grand Forks for some time now.  Haven't you been worried?  You've never had the kind of conversation with me that you had with Bea and her friends."

 

"That's true.  But your mother and I did worry.  So we called over to the Fred, and ended up speaking to Fred Milson.  He was incredibly nice, and understood our concern.  He also told us that Shelly could be trusted.  He was part of a group that agreed not to have intercourse until college, and then would be circuspect and safe.  He was completely assuring.  And he told us not to worry about the drinking.  He was pretty sure that Shelly didn't drink, and if he did he would be completely responsible about driving.  He invited me to talk to President Tim if I wanted reassurance.  I decided I didn't need it.  I was right, wasn't I?"

 

"Yes, Daddy, you were."

 

To be continued...

Posted: 05/23/14