Mom and dad always had a power dynamic. Mom was in charge of the house and the kids. She ran everything with love, but always efficiently, delegating ever increasing responsibilities to the kids. Neither mom or dad saw childhood as an endless vacation as some do today. But rather, they saw it as a calm but intensive learning experience. It was expected that kids would have fun. But, have fun after getting everything squared away first.
Dad flew the Douglas DC-3 and then the Convair CV-340 in passenger service when I was younger. His work schedule varied but it was usually very predictable (like working two days then having two days off) giving us all plenty of time to get things done in his absence. It was always right in front of my face, but I didn’t see it, the differences between mom’s behavior when dad was at home and when he was away. Dad never lied to us. Neither of them ever did.
I’m sure that he enjoyed making his kids breakfast and doing things with them before school when he was home. He told us not to disturb our mother. That “she was taking a deserved break from running the house by herself.” Dad didn’t say it, we just assumed that she was asleep. We didn’t know that mom was listening to all of us from their bedroom, naked and tied to the bed posts with a salty aftertaste in her mouth.
Years later, mom told me that dad usually throat fucked her (I like the word “fuck,” it’s raw, like “cunt”) in the morning before he tied her padded leather wrist and ankle cuffs to their bed, sometimes face up, sometimes face down. After we went to school he would untie her, help her up, walk her to the bathroom and have her bend over the vanity. There, he would put a dab of petroleum jelly (she liked it “because it stayed with you”) on the tip of the white plastic hose.
The hose that along with the red bag that was always in their shower, I just never gave it any thought. He’d give her a big warm salt water or soapy enema followed by a couple of rinses (sometimes those had ice cubes in the bag). Then she often spent hours naked, often in an armbinder, or with her wrists cuffed to a belt. Sometimes her cuffs were tied to furniture and he’d toy with her cunt and ass. Sometimes he spanked her. But invariably he fucked her in the ass right as their kids were getting out of school.
Mom always glowed and looked like she just stepped out of the shower as her children arrived home from school. The only thing us kids noticed that was “different” about them was how they both really liked each other and seemed genuinely happy together. That was far above average among the parents that we were familiar with. So, it shouldn’t be surprising that right before my fifteenth birthday mom gave me “the sex talk.”
A talk that I already knew the contents of from Marc, my slightly older brother. He’d received mom's wisdom right before his fifteenth birthday. Marc and I had been experimenting before he got “the talk,” It was an organic development, stemming from our platonic play as we both started having “those feelings.” We started slowly and built up our shared experiences together seeing what we liked and what we didn’t.
What mom said made so much sense. In a nutshell: “love and sex were a divine gift from God,” that “when it was right for us,” we should partake of “while being responsible to our ‘other’” (her term for our eventual lover). Sex was beautiful, loving, natural and fun. It was not just for procreation. Separately, she taught the male and female half of the equation to both me and my brother, “because one day we might need to share this knowledge with our ‘other.’ Besides, having accurate information is always good.”
Mom taught me how to count and compute my cycle (as a funny aside, my little brother would later be the one who taught his girlfriend, now my sister in law). Mom also told me that, while it was safe to have vaginal sex half of each month so long as I could properly count, “men and women both find oral and anal intercourse to be satisfying.” At the time it simply didn’t occur to me that the revelation was autobiographical.
When our experimentation took us from talking through looking, touching, kissing and licking to actual penetration anal just made sense. For a woman all of the structures are physiologically in close proximity. When I became aroused the pressure from the blood flowing there made everything tight and tingly. Marc made sure that whatever we did was pleasurable to me.
Through mergers, dad’s relative seniority fell at work. He resigned to take a job flying the Boeing 299, a B-17E bomber rebuilt by Continental Airlines as a freighter. Since my siblings and I were old enough to take care of ourselves and the 299’s MER (Minimum Equipment Requirement) was for a Pilot and a Flight Engineer. Mom went along and dad taught her to fly it.
Dad would later teach my brothers and I to fly in that 65,000 pound, 4,800 hp, four engine behemoth when we were only slightly younger than the young men who went to war in the Fortress back in the day. Like them we received a few hours in an Avro Cadet, unlike them there was no hurry and nobody was trying to kill us.
I had loved Matthieu since we were both kids. He was Marc’s best friend. They were both about a year-and-a-half older than Vicky or me. Matt was never aloof or unfriendly (neither was Marc, but being my brother, he had to be nice to me and include me). We all played together and had deep philosophical discussions about many topics, including mom’s revelations. My best girlfriend Vicky joined in many of our activities.
Dad became a partner with a mechanic he had worked with. They bought a Curtiss C-46 that they maintained and leased wet (meaning with a flight crew). The partner kept it running, mom and dad were the crew. Marc and Matt, who would soon graduate from high school, both joined up to work as ramp crew and laborers for the operation. Vicky’s boyfriend showed himself to be a self centered jerk. She finally had enough of him and just hung out with us.
Matt’s girlfriend was a manipulative twat (and a twit too). She used sex to get what she wanted out of him and as he would later say “gave great headache.” She had their whole lives together planned out, without his input. I didn’t try to break them up, figuring that I would lose my best friend in the process. Instead I bit my lip and bided my time.
Vicky and I had experimented together and also with Marc. It was all so natural, like it was just meant to be, and society would accept Marc and Vicky as a couple. They would accept Matt and me as a couple as well. I knew that Matt’s girlfriend was her own worst enemy and that given time would show her true self to him. I just needed to let him know that other options existed before he committed himself to her.
In school, Matt wasn’t in a position to raise a family. So, at the moment she just couldn’t simply “accidentally” get pregnant. We let him know that there were a couple of foolproof ways of fucking without getting pregnant in the process. A way that mom had told me and my brothers was “found to be satisfying to both men and women.”
Matt’s girlfriend told him that: “no woman could possibly enjoy doing those perverted things.”
“Au contraire mon bien-aimé Matthieu.” I said. Then I showed him that I was such a woman.
Ask Cupid or a lawyer, evidence that may be excluded “in the main” due to decorum or statute can be offered in rebuttal if a false claim to the contrary is made. I loved having my childhood friend’s lovely penis tickling my tonsils, dumping salty jizz, and I adored taking it deep in my ass. I taught him how to fill me up with nice salty or soapy water. Then after my enemas, I took his semi-hard dick that had just ejacuated deep into my bowels into my mouth and made it hard again.
By the time that I graduated from high school, mom and dad saw to it that I had plenty of options. I could have gone on to college, but I chose to take a job flying freight around in an Avro Anson, model 652 (years later I would help laminate new Consuta wings for a l-A). Matt’s manipulative girlfriend planned on him getting married soon after graduating from high school.
Matt was in a committed relationship by then alright, but something she had planned was missing. Oh yeah, her, she was missing. We moved in together, all four of us. In time, he married me, not her. Then some years later, we had a few lovely children together. Marc and Vicky married and we raised our kids together, but now I’m getting ahead of myself.