tagGroup SexRon's Journal 02

Ron's Journal 02


Author's note: My uncle Ron died recently. While sifting through his files, I found journal folders marked MY STORY, writings about his life. I have edited these accounts and will post them when I can. These stories include bisexuality, incest, interracial and mature and group sex, etc. All sexual activity depicted here involves persons at least 18 years old.

I highly recommend that you read the previous chapters before starting on this piece.

******************** 3: A Brief Return to the Old Neighborhood

Not long after we moved to the new house, Dad needed to transact some business in person in our hometown on a Saturday. I talked him into dropping me off in our old neighborhood fairly early in the morning.

I wanted to revisit everyone I knew there. I would be on a certain corner at a certain time that evening for him to pick me up again.

We had left the neighborhood a couple years before, to move to the downtown apartment after the divorce. The neighborhood was already falling apart socially. Many others of the longtime families had left; many of the homes where I had spent so much of my childhood were now filled with strangers.

I got lucky after one bleak hour of roaming. The Terrells still lived in their house at the busy end of the block. Cheryl Terrell was another girl who would probably look very like her mom when she matured.

And that look was cute and almost gamine, like a fleshed-out taller Audrey Hepburn.

Cheryl and I had grown up in the same schools, on the same playgrounds. I had been very close to Mrs. Terrell ("Just call me Caroline") and Cheryl for many years.

Caroline drove me and Cheryl and our noisy friend Sally to and from Piedmont High School all during our freshman and sophomore years. Caroline had a little French SIMCA sedan. Attention-hog Sally always took the front passenger seat, while Cheryl and I sat on the bench seat in back.

The car and its rear seat were quite narrow. We put our books and lunch bags between us to maintain an illusion of decent separation, but our feet and hands were always busy with each other, feeling and rubbing and not quite provoking giggles or moans.

After school, Caroline and Cheryl and I would often sit around their living room playing card games and consuming sodas and snacks, and comfortably chatting about the world.

Cheryl and I now had very different class schedules so we never saw each other at the sprawling school. ___

I rang the doorbell. Cheryl opened the door, gasped, grabbed me and screamed.

"Mom! Ronny's here! Ronny's here!"

"I'm glad to see you too" I managed to choke out, once she released my neck.

Caroline hurried up and hugged me tightly. She held me away with both hands and looked closely at me, then hugged me again. Cheryl hugged my side.

Cheryl's soft breasts were slightly smaller versions of her MILF mom's lovely rack. All four breasts were tipped with sharp pointy nipples poking into my torso. I kissed both their faces, and they kissed me back. I felt a surge of joy, and a bit of movement in my crotch.

Beautiful Caroline, only twice her daughter's age and hardly showing the years, held me at arm's length again and looked me up and down. Expressions of wonder and painful happiness and longing crossed her face... and something else.

"Damn Ronny, you've gotten so BIG! How the hell are you?" Caroline murmured.

"We've missed you so much since you had to leave. It's been lousy here," Cheryl cried.

"I came back to see the neighborhood but it's all changed, like a strange land, and I'm a stranger here," I said. No, we can never return to what is gone.

"But now you're back here!" Cheryl said. She hugged me even tighter.

Caroline said, "Let's celebrate and talk and laugh. You're both 18 now. We need some wine for this reunion party. Oh no, we finished our last bottle last night. Wait here -- I'll drive to the store, I'll be back in ten minutes." She hurried out to the garage, pulled the door open, and sped away in the SIMCA.

Cheryl never let go of me. We walked to the couch with our arms around each other's waists, plopped down on the soft cushions, hugged some more. Cheryl looked into my eyes as if she were drowning in my pupils.

"Ronny, you've always been my favorite friend. I've always loved you, ever since fifth grade. I've always wanted you."

I pulled her face up to mine and we pressed our lips together with our eyes wide open. Our mouths opened; our tongues touched; our eyelids never closed.

"Remember all those rides to and from school? We always played footsies and held hands. We always felt and rubbed each other's legs and sides and arms. If Mom had to stop for gas or anything, we'd wait till her head was turned, and then we'd kiss quickly. You think she never caught us, but she really knew what was going on. I could tell she didn't mind. You were always her favorite neighborhood boy. And now you're so grown up! Kiss me again!"

Our tongues twisted around each other again. Our eyes finally scrunched closed.

Caroline came back inside carrying a bag of snacks and two chilled half-gallon bottles of Almaden White Chablis wine, which was the domestic "good stuff" of that era. She put one bottle in the refrigerator and returned from the kitchen with three glass goblets.

"Let the festivities begin," Caroline laughed. "Ron, tell us everything that's happened to you since you left."

Well, I could not tell them *everything*, certainly not about my love life. But I filled them in pretty much about the losses I had felt and my increasing loneliness, as well as about my studies and enthusiasms and music and whatever good stuff I was trying to keep in my life.

They told me about the changes here, of who all had moved away and the kind of people who moved in but could not replace their old friends. People, businesses, trends, they all just come and go -- and the newcomers sadly do not seem to measure up to the old.

I asked, "Are you two here alone? Where is Mr. Terrell?"

Cheryl's expression hardened and she looked away quickly. Caroline only looked sad... and something else. I knew Mr. Terrell worked at the local aerospace plant that built parts for jets and missiles. I did not see much trace of him around the house.

Caroline said, "Matt has been away a lot. He's a senior technical specialist and he has long assignments overseas, helping foreign customers work his products into their own systems. He was in Iran for a few months, then Indonesia, then Taiwan, then Brazil, and many other places. We get post cards and phone calls every week or two, but we really only see him two or three times a year. It's not easy. It's not easy at all."

Cheryl muttered, "He has to get medical checkups and shots whenever he comes back. He's probably getting diseases from whores all over the world."

Caroline looked sadder then. She turned her face away and I could feel her shudder.

Caroline poured more wine. We all drank silently.

"Some festivities," Caroline said. "We can do better than this. Cheryl, stay here. Ron, come with me."

Caroline took my hand and led me into her bedroom.

"Ron, you've always been the smartest and kindest and tallest kid around here. Now you don't look like a kid anymore. Now you look like a man. Ron, I need a man, I need you, Ron. I know you love me. I need you to make love to me like a man."

Caroline pulled me to her. She pulled my shirt over my head. She loosened my pants and pushed then down and off me. She put my hands on her blouse and had me pull it over her own head. She put my hands behind her back to unsnap her bra.

Caroline put my hands on her hips. I loosened her skirt, pushed it down, pushed her panties down to the floor.

We stood naked in front of each other, our hands at each other's waist. We moved our hands up and around, over our sides and backs and fronts and up to our faces. We held our faces together. I had to lean over a few inches to reach her.

"Ron, I love my husband."

Caroline kissed my mouth, my tongue, my face.

"Ron, I love my husband."

Caroline lay on the bed and pulled me down atop her.

"Ron, I love my husband."

Caroline pulled my head to her right breast, and to her left breast, and to the beautiful valley between her beaconing breasts, and up to her long neck, and back to her mouth.

"Ron, I love my husband."

Caroline rolled me over and slid down between my legs and took my cock in her mouth, and gently licked and sucked and pushed me in deep until I came in her throat, thrashing.

"Ron, I love my husband. But he's never here. The bastard is gone. Ron, love me. Fuck me. Love me every way you can. Fuck me back to life."

OK, I'm a sucker for this stuff. Seducing me is not difficult, it really isn't.

But this was Caroline, lovely Caroline, sweet Cheryl's mom, my close friend for years, and she's devouring my heart, she's taking refuge in my soul, she's begging me for salvation, a lost and limited salvation, but the only salvation that means anything right now. I love her. I have loved her. I will love her as long and as fully as I can.

I picked up Caroline's filled-out movie-starlet body and laid her in the center of her empty marriage bed. I climbed to her side and looked down on her and kissed her angelic mouth and her almost Audrey Hepburn face.

I slowly moved down her rich body, kissing every inch. Every inch of her nurturing breasts, her puffed aureoles, her glowing nipples. Every inch of her almost flat belly, her rounded hips, her strong thighs, and down to her feet and her shaking toes.

I kissed back up to her shoulders, out along her left arm to her hand, and back, and out her right arm to her hand, and back, and then downwards.

I moved between her legs. I nuzzled her soft untrimmed muff of thin dark angel hair.

I spread her legs. I nuzzled between her thighs, licked her inner thighs, licked up to her rich slit, licked between her lips. I licked patterns all over and around and into and through her velveteen pussy.

Caroline pulled a pillow over her face and screamed into the pillow. I guess I had become proficient at pussy licking, hey?

I sat up and leaned back against the bed's backboard. I pulled Caroline up onto her knees, straddling my legs, facing me. She lifted herself up and settled her wet pussy onto my waiting cock. She settled down until our pubes bumped, totally impaled on my eager shaft.

Caroline sighed. She had already sucked me to an orgasm some minutes before. I could last quite a while now, staying hard for her.

I sat there with my body still but my hands moving over all her flesh and my mouth kissing her clenched face. She slowly moved her body very slightly up and down on my cock.

Every minute or so, she would sigh and cry softly, feeling another small orgasm -- saved up for how many lonely months? Then she settled back down fully, and shivered.

After a few minutes, I lifted up her body and turned her around, facing away from me, still impaled and sheathed. I held her body up while I drove my hips up and down, slowly at first, then harder, faster.

Caroline put one hand to her breasts, twisting one nipple, then the other, and the other hand against her clit, twisting and squeezing and pushing and pulling and brushing. Faster and harder, faster and harder.

Caroline screamed. She had no pillow to muffle the scream. She opened her mouth wide and screamed and screamed.

And then she coughed, and gasped, and stopped screaming. I held her breasts as she leaned back onto my chest, breathing deeply, almost sobbing.

The bedroom door opened.

"Mom, are you alright? Are you hurt? Is everything OK?

Cheryl looked terribly frightened. Caroline raised her head and gazed at her daughter seriously.

"Cheryl, I love your father."

Caroline reached back and took my hands and rubbed them over her face.

"Cheryl, I do love your father."

Caroline moved my hands over her throat, her upper chest, and settled them onto her breasts, rising and falling with each deep breath she took.

"Cheryl, I still love your father."

Caroline moved my hands down her belly, onto her thighs, then up atop her pubes.

"But Cheryl, your father is gone, and I need love. This is what love looks like."

Caroline moved her body up and down again so Cheryl could see my cock moving in and out of her cunt with our combined juices flowing, lubricating, celebrating.

Cheryl cried, "Oh Mom, oh Ron, I love you both so much!"

Cheryl ran over to us and hugged us. Cheryl kissed her mother's face and her mouth and her throat and her breasts and her belly and the juncture where my cock entered her cunt. Cheryl kissed her mother's pubes and clit, and my gleaming moving shaft, and then up my body to my mouth.

Caroline turned her head back and we three all kissed together, deeply, thoroughly. Cheryl pulled her own clothes off and climbed up with us and we continued kissing while our hands rubbed all over each other's flesh, our bodies all writhing together.

Caroline pushed Cheryl away and pulled herself off my cock. She sat beside me.

"Ron, you haven't cum in me yet. Ron, I need you to cum in me. Cheryl, I need you to help me. Ron, lay down flat there."

I stretched out on my back, a pillow beneath my head, pushed away from the bed's backboard. Caroline straddled me, facing me, and slid back down onto my still-steely cock. She sat up and started moving.

"Cheryl. Make love to Ron's face and chest and arms and legs and balls while I make love to his cock. Do whatever it takes. You'll know how."

As Caroline rose and fell faster on my happy cock, Cheryl moved in on me, rubbing her naked breasts along my feet and legs, then my chest, and then my face and mouth. I suckled those gorgeous tits hungrily while her fingers tweaked my nipples, then held my balls.

Cheryl squatted behind my head and leaned over, feeding me her primal young tits while sucking my sensitive nipples and reaching down to stroke my upper thighs. I was overjoyed, my senses nearly overwhelmed, overloaded, fried. ZAP!

All the stimulation worked quite well. My balls twitched. I came. I came like a firehose of ecstasy, like a Yosemite Falls of hot sperm, a lascivious lightning bolt of pure orgone energy. I became a quiz-show question:

Q: What's gray and comes in gallons? A: Elephants, and Whales, and Ron.

Cheryl hugged me tightly until my spasms ceased and I started breathing almost normally. Then she went back to her mother, kissing Caroline's face and breasts and pubes, licking off our mutual juices and overflow, moving back to Caroline's mouth to share the tastes, and then to me.

And over and over again, until we fell over, nearly comatose.

We disengaged but pulled ourselves all together, our faces together, our eyes and mouths locked into a three-way clench. We hummed. We purred. I belched. Oops.

Cheryl whispered, "That was great, no, much more than great. That was titanic! When can I have some?"

I groaned. Caroline giggled, "I think we'll have to wait a few minutes till Ron returns to the living. Maybe some more wine will help. And some snacks maybe?"

I groaned again. Luckily, the time was still early, and we had all day to work things out. No, I did not screw virgin Cheryl. We shared lots of love anyway. ___

After a long, sweaty day when I did not bother surveying the rest of the neighborhood, Dad picked me up that evening and we returned to the new house.

I got a call from Caroline a few days later. Her husband had been permanently assigned to a Connecticut facility -- no more foreign trips. The family had to move back East immediately. A week later, they were gone. I never saw them again.

FAST FORWARD: My thuggish redneck biker stepbrother Razz bought the former Terrell house about 15 years later. He turned it into a rough party house. Somebody started a fire that burned fully through the living-room floor, so Razz ripped out all the flooring there and turned the area into a mud-wrestling pit. The house was the site of numerous debaucheries, overdoses, brawls and police actions over the years.

Yup, the old neighborhood sure went to hell.

NEXT: Only sex makes school bearable.

******************** 4: Mountain High, Cheney High -- Misery and Fun

Dad's new house was convenient for everything -- everything except all I had ever lived for. All my friends and familiar locales were too far away for a guy without a motor vehicle. School and parks and the library and a commercial boulevard were nearby, but I knew none of the people or businesses around here.

Being ripped away from a lifetime of continuity is damn painful and disruptive. Traumatic, even - yeah, now that I think about it, I indeed had a PTS disorder. I reacted badly. I did things I am ashamed to think about now. That is all I will say about my behavior.

I divide my relationships between "inside friends" and "outside friends". The "inside friends" are people who came into my house, and I could go into theirs. The "outside friends" are people I will interact with in public, but never inside our homes. All my previous life, I'd had a fair number of inside friends. For years after the move away from my hometown, I had almost none.

I transferred into Mountain High School, where I knew absolutely nobody, midway through a semester. I slowly developed a small group of outside friends, and an even tinier group of inside friends.

My outside friends included Karl, a football jock, whom I pantsed at the school swimming pool, leaving him naked before an admiring audience. And folk-singing Melanie, with long brown hair and unattainable round breasts, who just wanted me to back her up on harmonica. And Denny, a demented math freak, with whom I conspired to build annoying and sometimes dangerous electronic devices. Denny first turned me on to LSD.

My few inside friends were a peculiar lot. No guys made the list. For some reason, it was the short girls who sought me, mostly short curvy vivacious blondes. Maybe they all thought the really tall kid would be a worthy challenge, and fresh meat.

Snuggly, hourglass-shaped Tia grabbed me first. Chewable little Cherry got my balls for a while. Then firm-breasted Katie, who wanted mandolin lessons with me spooning her on a chaise -- what a dish! Too bad I could not get them all at once.

But I ended up with MariLyn Hermann, who had recently graduated from Mountain HS and moved on to the local junior college. ___

The Hermann family lived only a few blocks away from me and from school. Mr. and Mrs. Everett Hermann (Ev Senior and Kathy) worked together at another aerospace plant. Kathy had quit Catholicism for Zen yoga. After work, she would return home, meditate nude in the back yard for an hour, and then fix dinner.

Their three kids were short blonde MariLyn, a year older than I was; taller fuller blonder Bethany, my age, and my classmate; and sneaky Ev Junior, two years younger.

Bethany edited the Mountain HS student newspaper. She liked my poetry and essays and published a few. We got along nicely. She took me home to meet the family, but it was MariLyn who stuck tits into my chest and led me around.

And MariLyn had a VW bug and loved driving me around. Transportation! I was no longer stuck on a bicycle! But of course, I could not get rides back to visit old lovers. Damn.

Will Sykes was another regular in the Hermann house, a fellow JC student with MariLyn, usually riding a Honda moped. Will could have been my twin, except for our facial structures and voices. Goldwater glasses, longish black hair, equally tall and thin, equally long cock (more on that later).

I could not know it then, but Bethany and Will and especially MariLyn would shape my life for many years to come. Sex, and much else.

The Hermann household was pretty loose.

A note taped to the refrigerator door read: NOTICE -- PLEASE DO NOT SLAM THIS OR ANY OTHER DOOR AFTER 10 PM -- SIGNED, THE MANAGEMENT. The 'management' reportedly never physically punished their kids, and tolerated odd behaviors.

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