Ron's Journal 02

A younger MariLyn used to have hundreds of iguanas running around the house, hiding under furniture, mating and devouring each other. Ev Junior played stoned organ in an acid-rock band that rehearsed (loudly) in the garage. He later became a guided-missile salesman.

Karate student Bethany was the 'normal' one; her side of the sisters' bedroom was filled with artwork of elves and demons, her head filled with detailed fantastic stories. Bethany later moved to England and became a best-selling author of fantasy and historical fiction.

Bethany had a round face over a medium body sporting round breasts and ample hips. She whispered to me that she and MariLyn sometimes made love together in their shared bed while the elves and demons watched and encouraged them. ___

On some dark and quiet nights, Will and I would stand by the living-room couch while Bethany and MariLyn blew us and swapped us and blew us some more. Then we would kneel before them and eat the sisters' soft cunts while they French kissed, eight hands playing with four non-trivial tits -- and swap.

We guys would 69 with the girls -- and swap. The sisters would 69 each other; Will and I did not, not with each other, not then. And no straight fucking, but almost all else was a go.

Will and I agreed the sisters tasted very similar. They agreed we guys tasted very different. Will and I had not tasted each other yet, so we accepted the sisters' word on the subject.

If Mr. and Mrs. Hermann were out for the evening, we kids might dose up on wine and pot and DMT before and during the sex play. With the intoxications and hallucinations, we might never know (nor care) exactly who was doing what to whom, nor quite what was being done, nor even how. Just a psychedelic web of sensation, of stimulation and orgasm and more and again.

I had other interesting sessions thanks to Will's friend Milton Moriguchi, or 'Gooch', another junior college student. Gooch was Nisei but affected the mannerisms of an English gent. He wore tweeds, drove an MG roadster, and smoked a briar pipe, usually loaded half with golden Virginia tobacco and half with pot. The tobacco masked the musky pot odor.

Although a practicing vegetarian, Will's after-school job was flipping hamburgers at a nearby drive-in. Gooch, Bethany and I often hung out there for snacks and malts, and to chat with Will during slow times.

One busier Saturday, Gooch invited Bethany and I to a small party with some of his college chums. Three girls and one guy (whose names I just do not remember now) shared a small house near the JC campus. I scrunched into the MG's passenger seat with Bethany wedged into my lap; we arrived painfully cramped.

The party had an explicit goal: to see what an orgy felt like on LSD. Gooch distributed blotter scraps of Owsley sunshine acid, but took none himself. He was merely going to observe the activities.

I teamed up with two of the girls: a medium-height black-haired Filipina with slightly oversize breasts, and pale tall thin girl with chestnut hair and just-over-a-handful tits. The other guy, with the bleached and muscular surfer look, teamed with Bethany and his other housemate, a lean muscular Latina.

We undressed each other; fondled each other; kissed each other. The Filipina and I got our lips together on the pale girl's mouth, then her breasts, and then we put our heads together between her outstretched legs and team-tongued her generous pussy. I glanced across the room and saw Bethany laid-back on a couch with the Latina sitting on her face and the surfer guy licking and fingering her cunt.

Then the acid started to kick in.

My memories here had day-glo shadows. I remember my partners and I, fucking and sucking each other in all combinations. I remember my girls and me in a triad daisychain as we floated in the air. I remember seeing Bethany riding the surfer's cock in reverse-cowgirl position while the Latina slurped her tits, and they levitated too. Yes, this is when Bethany lost her cherry, and not to me or Will.

I remember us all 69ing side by side on a king-size mattress, me with the pale girl, Bethany with the surfer, and the two darker girls together, with kaleidoscopic lights whirling around us as we spun through manic universes. And I think I remember various aliens and chimeras and material spirits interacting with us. Were those only acid dreams?

I remember the Latina sitting on my cock, vibrating, melting into me as I melted into her, both of us becoming waxy blobs of glowing goo. I remember double-ending a bent-over Bethany, the surfer's cock in her mouth and mine in her formerly forbidden pussy, while the Filipina lay under Bethany sucking her tits and fingering her clit, and we were all just one fiery entity. I remember diving into the Filipina's cunt and emerging, newborn and crying.

And Gooch just sat in an easy chair, smoking his loaded pipe, getting off on voyeurism.

At the height of the experience, none of us could move, no more than a twitch, our senses too overloaded for mobility. As the acid wore off, we remained mostly immobilized. We were eventually able to roll apart. But not too far apart -- we now all felt as if our souls had merged. We felt telepathic. We looked at each other and giggled uncontrollably, all sharing the same cosmic joke.

Yeah, life could have been worse -- and soon would be. School went rather badly. I never caught up with classes. And I stopped caring about school. ___

Then came the next disaster -- uprooted again.

I had been irregularly bounced between Dad's place and Mom's. Now I was forced out of Dad's house and Mountain HS, down to the shoddy town where Mom and her redneck stud, and his sons Razz and Moochie, and my sisters Sue and Lyn all lived.

Cheney High School, the third of my senior year, was located near a state prison, and surrounded by stoop-labor agriculture. Many students were children of prisoners or guards or farmworkers. This world was totally different world the middle-class suburbia in which I had grown up.

And the worst was that the three guys in my 'stepfamily' molested my two unwilling underage sisters. And Mom did nothing to try to stop them. I will omit the details and only say that the situation totally sucked.

Well, almost totally. ___

My one lifeline consisted of MariLyn and her VW bug. She would make the long drive down to me, drive us to cheap attractions or back to her house for more sex play, often with Bethany and Will again.

Afterwards, we would drive back and park in front of the redneck stud's house, and neck.

The little Love Bug was not really an erotic space. It is hard to make out in a shoebox when one is 6'5" tall. But MariLyn never ever came into our house. She would rather be butt-fucked with a branding iron and vaginally raped with a spiny cactus than step into this scummy bad-vibes home.

We had several sessions on warm nights, typically like this:

The Hermann sisters and Will and I all somehow squeezed our anxious bodies into the Love Bug. MariLyn insisted on driving her own car and gave Will the front passenger seat. I sat across the back seat, leaning against the driver-side door, with Bethany nestled against me between my legs. Yes, our hands roamed freely, and our mouths did their best.

MariLyn drove us to a hilltop overlooking the suburban valley. We spread a pile of blankets on the ground. Bethany and I undressed each other, quickly removing any t-shirts and shorts and scant underthings that hade survived the drive, while MariLyn and Will ripped each other's clothes off.

We knelt together on the blankets and used our mouths and hands for warmup exercises, with much kissing, and tit-rubbing and -slurping, and crotch-groping, until the sisters flopped onto their backs. We guys sat on the girls' chests with our cocks in their soft mouths, then turned around and rolled them over to 69 them, and then swapped for more of the same.

The girls 69'd each other while Will and I jerked ourselves off and covered their writhing bodies with streams of sticky sperm. The sisters wiped down, then kissed, then scissored their open legs and rubbed their pussies together, inflaming and abrading their stiff clits, while sucking us guys off as we licked their inviting tits.

We moved into a foursome daisychain, me eating Bethany eating Will eating MariLyn eating me, and then switched around. I lay back with Bethany sucking me as MariLyn sat on my face with her pussy on my mouth as she blew standing Will -- and then we switched.

Other fun ensued. We had much more freedom here than on the living-room couch. ___

My sisters Sue and Lyn had some inside friends from this low-rent neighborhood; they had been there a couple years already. I had precisely two inside friends from Cheney HS: Jim the outcast, with whom I conspired about explosives and chemicals and dangerous electronics; and, surprisingly, Miguel the mayor's son.

I think Miguel was practicing for politics. Cultivating outcasts is a sure way to grab votes. He was later elected to the state Senate.

I will not talk about the bad times here. Suffice to say that I never caught up with my classes, and I dropped out and moved on. I left the mandolin behind and played dulcimer a bit, and got a cheap guitar. I hitchhiked to hippie ghettos around the country. And my life was totally different, forever more.

Please don't think that I'm a whining brat. I was still just a kid through all this. I'd had a sheltered, non-threatened life, and hadn't gained a lot of street smarts. I was ill-prepared for disruption.

I have a last comment about high school.

I have read many accounts and stories about the supposed "high school experience" and they all seem like fantasies to me. I was in no cliques. I was neither jock nor egghead nor hot-rodder nor surfer nor band-member. I did not join clubs nor attend dry-humping dances. All those scenes seemed so trivial to me.

And the Senior Prom? Ha. I do not know if dirt-poor Cheney HS even *had* a prom -- and if there was, so what? I had already dropped out.

I was neither victim nor victimizer. I was too big to be bullied, and too well-trained to be a bully myself. I felt no need to hide myself inside a social crowd, nor to try to dominate a crowd. I was mostly just by myself.

Except for the sex, I would rather forget all about my public school days. ___

FAST-FORWARD: Some bad deeds do not go unpunished, even in families of low-life thugs. Those guys who were molesting my unwilling underage sisters? They all came to fitting ends.

Jim, the father, my Mom's redneck stud, hit her a few too many times, and she left him. He drank himself to death a couple years later -- liver failure.

Moochie, the younger son, OD'd on tranquilizers and tequila, drowned in his own vomit.

Razz, the older son, bought and wrecked a house in my old neighborhood, described above. He crippled himself in a motorcycle wreck and was stuck using a walker. He was later killed by a hit-and-run driver as he slowly jaywalked the busy street by his house.

Good fucking riddance to them all.

NEXT: Down the Hippie trail.