Not Such a Secret Anymore
last updated on Tuesday, June 14, 2005 at 5:04:19 AM CST

regarding events somewhere about 5 January, 1985

WARNING!  The following text is graphic in nature, and deals with sexual abuse that I experienced from the age of 10 through the age of 17.  This is the third "chapter" in the events I'm chronicling, and I apologize in advance for the graphic detail.  Readers of a younger or more sensitive nature should avoid reading further.

If you haven't read part one or part two, I suggest going back and reading them first.

I really have no idea how things escalated to the point that they did, and my mother, if you ask her about any of the following, will completely deny any knowledge that any of this took place.  She's told me in my adult years that had she known what Brian was doing to me, she'd have divorced him.  Unfortunately, it's a two-part, bold-faced lie.  Not only did she know what was going on, but at various points in those years, she was involved.

You see, from what I understand, my mother was getting pretty "involved" with customers at work.  So involved that apparently she would occasionally bring someone home to "swing" with her and Brian.  Somewhere in there, Brian must have told her that he was fucking me, because all of a sudden, sex was an open topic in the house.  I remember her just pulling down Brian's pants, and just sucking him off right there in front of me and my sister.  And I remember him arching his back as she wildly sucked him off.  I remember the feeling of jealousy, because I wanted to suck him off.  And I remember jacking off watching her suck him until he finished.

It was then that she hopped on his dick and started riding him.  Sometime in that moment, I learned that they'd nicknamed their private parts.  Brian's dick was Fred, and my mom had named her vagina Ginger (yes, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers).  This, sadly, eventually left to me leaving Brian notes asking if I could "play with Fred."

The next thing I remember is a week later, my mom explaining to me that Brian was wearing panty hose because they were comfortable and kept him warm.  Now, I never saw him in them, but I'm guessing it was probably true.

And then, the fateful night.  Somehow I ended up in the bedroom with both Brian and my mother, and next thing I knew, the three of us were naked.  Then there was a knock at the door, and, as I'm sucking Brian's cock, my mom sucking on one of his nipples, my sister comes in wondering what's going on, and they encourage her to join in.  She took the other nipple, and the four of us were in bed, nude.

Now, nothing ever happened between me and my sister, or me and my mother, though I remember my mom trying to suck my dick.  She grabbed ahold of it, and I said, "No, I want Brian to do that."  I remember me and Brian doing each other while my mom and my sister played around.

This was the night that having sex with Brian became a duty.

You see, the very next day, Brian told me that they weren't going to do anything else with my sister because she was too young.  Too young.  Yeah.  Have I mentioned there's five years of an age difference here?  She was six years old.  I suppose, by comparison, eleven is damned near manhood.  So he told me that I could still have sex though, because I was "old enough to know what I wanted."  Yes, you read that right.  At eleven years old, I was old enough to know that I wanted to have sex with my stepfather.

Well, I've got to tell you, there were a few more occasions where Brian and I were having sex, and my mother would be laying there fingering herself, saying things like, "Yeah, suck his dick."  Thankfully, I think that while we were in Danville, the number of times my mother was involved was less than ten.  Most of the time, it was just me and Brian having sex.

And, he started getting bolder.  I still wonder if he had someone outside one night that he fucked me on the foldout couch.  You see, he had the curtains wide open.  I asked him if we should close them, and he said, "No, the glare will keep anyone from seeing."  Except, there's only glare from the inside.  If you've ever driven by a window at night where the curtains were open, you know that people can see everything going on.  So there he was, fucking me for all the world to see.

It's strange the times I remember us having sex.  Like, one afternoon, we were watching Doctor Who on television, and suddenly he's like, "I want to fuck you," so I'm watching the show, laying on my stomach on the foldaway couch, as he's pounding my ass.  We'd fuck on the floor, we'd fuck in his bed.  Strangely, we never had sex in my room, but god knows I jacked off enough up there.  This all had me so screwed up that I was jerking off an average of two to three times a day, and having sex with Brian almost every other day at this point.

I remember that if I knew my mom wasn't home, I'd go downstairs in the middle of the night, completely nude, dick as hard as could be, and sit down next to Brian on the couch.  He'd usually stand up at the sight of me, and take off his underwear, and we'd go to town.  Again, while I know now that this should never have happened, again, back then, all I knew was that if I wanted sex, I could have it.

Spring lead to some interesting new issues.

Part Two • Part Four