The Tableau That is Lisa Ch. 03

Chapter Three

Punch

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Qui procreandi erant autem ambo XVIII vel maior in praeteritum.

Or in English, everybody engaged in sexual activity in this true story was 18 years of age or older when the events described actually took place.

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Punch, my beautiful Punch, is my child's father. I know he is going to be slighted in this story. But as he himself would say, C'est la vie. As much as I love the written word, no collection of them could ever do justice to my beautiful Punch and his actions those words try inadequately to describe.

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Can you fathom the mysteries of God. Can you probe the limits of Him without limit. -Job 11.7

Only God would know the reasons, but I bet he must have had a plan. -Born to be your baby, Child, Bon Jovi and Sambora

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George tells me he became friends with Punch in third grade. Personally, I cannot ever remember a time when Punch was not George's best bud. Erehwon Texas just wasn't so big that George and Punch didn't meet for four years. Named for George 'Punch' Imlach, Hall of Fame coach and General Manager of the Saints, Leafs and Sabres. Punches father was one of the most educated men in town, and one of its few professionals. Practicing medicine at the Erehwon County Hospital, while his mother organized for all noble causes, and for all things the county should, but did not have. Punch should have been in a social circle a step or two above ours. His brothers were, and therin lies the rub.

Punch and George were inseparable growing up, they played the same sports together. Took the same classes, sat out the same hours together in detention for their antics in those classes. They were both accepted to the U of T and should have gone to Austin together, perhaps been roomies. But where would that have left Lillian, Jamie, Kristin, Eva and I. God had eight little souls for us to bring into this world. So, two Mays before I donned a rented cap and gown, George and Punch made that same walk. They had what would have been a final summer palling around enjoying that crazy summer of '76, and went their separate ways in the dog days of August. George, although possessing a letter of acceptance to Austin, was given a job taking care of three resentful and unappreciative children. Punch went to Austin alone.

By Christmas, at least one of those children was no longer resentful, but Punch was. Punch was back in Erehwon to stay. His oldest brother was ok, I guess. Being six years older than I, we just did not interact. It was the families middle son who was the bane of Punch's existence. Constantly creating unnecessary drama, usually right on top of somebody else's twenty minutes of fame. So, during Punch's first semester in Austin, his brother created a shitstorm, and got himself unceremoniously kicked out. It sucks when your father is a big-time hockey fan and thinks that your fuck-up of a brother is the star goalie. You end up sitting out his penalty minutes.

He hung out with George when George was not going to school or working at the Farm Supply. Very often sleeping on our sofa, because he did not want to go home. Did not feel like explaining anything, anything at all to the imbecile with an IQ of 160 or so. Why he did not sign up for the one class at the junior college that he had not taken in Austin and would transfer. Why he did not feel like 'checking out and maybe applying to' Tech, which he had not applied to before, but that his asshole brother would be finishing his degree at. Why he would rather get drunk and puke in our yard and sleep on our sofa than explain why he felt so resentful. How unprincipled his father's so-called 'principled stance' was. That he would not pay the U of T, where Punch had fifteen credits and a 4.0, another dime because they expelled someone who knew what he did was wrong, and yet ran around town bragging about doing it.

Eva, it was Eva that saved Punch. It seemed like Eva and her little sisters were always at our house. Her parents encouraged them. The Pastor and his wife thought that we were 'good wholesome people'. At the time we laughed, we thought we had them hoodwinked. But the truth was that we were, and we are. We care about each other, and look out for each other. We have been together for over forty years. Eva knew about resentment. Eva knew about drowning your emotions in alcohol. She understood self destructive behavior, and had herself just come out of her wild-child period. She was running the youth program at the Pastor's, her father's, church.

Together we all went to Eva's graduation in May. We sat with my friend the Pastor and his wife. Then we celebrated. That day was to my mind the beginning of 'us'. All of 'us' were there. Even Kristin who would join 'us'. She walked with Eva. For a reason known but to God, we have pictures of Kristin receiving her rolled pieces of construction paper that stood in for the real thing. By the summer that followed we were six friends hanging, just hanging out, enjoying each other's company. Often on the wood deck that George and Punch built around our above ground pool behind the garage. Kristin was not with us that summer, but she would be for the next summer and all the days that followed.

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What's that you say. 908 words so far, (oops now its 915). AND NO SEX? Ok, lets fast forward five years or so into the eighties. We are in our 'playroom'. Which in the 1880s was the Madam of the Houses private apartment. This was our second business together. The first one that required us to buy a building. What a building. It had once been a saloon, stable and bawdry house. Now those spaces were occupied by a restaurant, a ministry and apartments. It was the room we had brought into this world my darling George's child, by my wonderful love Jamie. Eva's first would be next. Now it was my turn.

George could not plant the seed, but he could get me warmed up. My sisters kissed me and helped me climb on top of the heavily padded wooden table, the table Punch had pierced my labia on. The table George impregnated Jamie on. I lay down and Lillian held the sides of my head and kissed my forehead, I was joining her and Eva today in a select society, a mother of Punch's children. The culmination of our 'Momon sister-wives' game. If our calculations were correct. Since I did the math we knew the numbers were correct. Within hours we three would be real sister-wives.

My sisters Kristin and Eva, with her beautiful bulging belly, kissed me all over touching every part of my naked being. As my big brother positioned himself between my legs, Kristin and Lillian went to hold them. To caress and kiss them, as George's tongue shot into me. His fingers delicately moving the studs in my outers. His tongue wantonly playing with the entrance to my vagina, drinking in its secretions. Playing with my clitoral hood, enticing the pearl beneath to come out and play.

Eva placed my left hand on her belly while looking into my eyes. Wordlessly wishing me what she was enjoying right now. Punch took Lillian's spot and began giving me deep kisses as George was flittering his tongue across my swollen clit. I exploded as George pushed a well lubricated finger in my ass. I may not have a prostate, but oh my, l just love that maneuver.

George called "switch".

It was a game we played, while double teaming one of the girls, either boy could call switch and they would trade places. George called it because I was ready for Punch's sperm. George went to my mouth, and gave me a deep kiss filling my mouth with his saliva and my lubricant. Punch touched my mound, it was electric. He ran two of his fingers down the valleys between my inner and out labia. Bump, bump, bumping across the little balls on the ends of the barbells. My hips were pushing up as if to entice, invite his penis inside of me.

George removed his mouth from mine, and gently repositioned my head and shoulders into a position I knew very well. Knew well and loved even more. He moved the box at the head of the table as Punch finally slid himself into me. George now atop the box, positioned his penis to slide into my mouth, into my throat. This was heaven. Kristin and Lillian holding my legs. Jamie caressing and kissing my clinched right fist. Eva holding my left palm to her pregnant belly. George's penis in my throat and Punch's in my vagina. The boys spit roasting me, synchronizing their thrusts. George pulling out to let his little sister breathe, then returning to my throat. Punch exploding and sending forth forty-thousand contestants in a race only one can win.

One did.

Lisa Ann