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From: One Gallus <onegallus@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} V for VAUGHN by One Gallus,  Part One
Date: Wed,  8 Nov 2000 17:10:04 -0500
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<1st attachment, "V PART 1.txt" begin>

{assm}
<*>
V FOR VAUGHN Part 1 
By One Gallus 
Content: (mf, inc masturb, oral, underage 
experimentation, intercourse)
Disclaimer
Not to be read:  
by anyone under the age of 18
or if it violates the standards or laws of 
your community: 
or if adult erotica offends you. 

Not to be posted on any site, or changed or 
used in any way without author's permission.


The Family
Victor: The father
Virginia: The mother
Vicki: The older sister
Vivian: The younger sister
Vaughn: The little brother

V FOR VAUGHN 
Part 1

"Mom," why did you and Dad name us all with 
V's?" I asked. 

"Because, Vaughn, like I told you before, 
having a name that starts with a V is very 
unusual.  When I met Dad, I knew we'd click, 
because Virginia and Victor just seem to go 
together, don't you think so?" She was 
arranging A sweet potato vine, which had 
meandered from its source in a blue vase out 
onto the windowsill, up the side of the 
window and onto an arrangement of nick-knack 
shelves on the right side.  His mother was 
always fussing with flowers, in the yard, 
and in the house.


"Dad calls you `Ginny' most of the time," I 
countered.

She ignored my argument, "And so I said to 
your Dad, `Honey when we get married and 
have children, I want to name them all with 
V names.'"

Just then, one of my older sisters, Vivian, 
came into the kitchen.  She and I looked a 
lot alike, which is to say she looked like 
my Dad, which was a shame, since was girl. 
Dad owned his own business, the Union 
Insurance Agency, and he didn't get where 
was because of good looks.  His face was 
round like a basketball. His middle was too, 
only bigger, which was strange, because he 
exercised all the time.  Vivian and Dad and 
I were definitely a physical trio.  All six 
of our eyes were squinted.  Dad's face was 
red constantly, and it didn't take much for 
Vivian to blush red.  I suppose I blushed 
easily too, since I often felt my ears burn 
hot.


"I think it's cool that we all have names 
starting with a V," Vivian said, and winked 
at me.  I knew that meant she thought the V 
stuff was stupid.  "And I especially love 
the name `Vaughn,'" she said.  That meant, 
she wanted me to think she thought my name 
was stupid.  But you never knew with Vivian, 
she actually might have liked my name.

Vivian sat down in a kitchen chair, on the 
other side of the table from where I was 
sitting.  She was wearing red shorts and a 
sleeveless red and white striped blouse.  
When she sat, I could see a little roll of 
fat pooch out just above her belly button.   
Not much, though, because neither of us was 
as fat as Dad was.  She slid down in her 
chair and put her bare foot on my knee and 
dug her heel into my lower thigh, and made a 
face. 

Mom, who had caught none of this, said, 
"Vivian is right Vaughn, always be proud of 
your family name, it's sometime special."  
Mom left the sweet potato, went to the 
refrigerator, and took out a package of 
ground beef. She opened it and began forming 
patties in her hands. 

I tickled Vivian's foot.  She jerked it 
away, still laughing, and placed it on my 
crotch, something else Mom couldn't see.  
Vivian wiggled her foot around.  She was 
always doing things like that, snatching at 
me, and pinching my butt.  I didn't want her 
to know I liked it (after all, this was 
Vivian) so I moved my lips with no sound so 
she could read them, "I'll tell Mom!" And I 
cut my eyes over to my mother when I did.  
Vivian grinned and pulled her foot away.  

"Set the table Vivian," Mom said.  

"Oh Mom!" she whined. "Why can't Vaughn do 
it?"

"Because you are fifteen years old, and you 
need to be doing something else around here 
besides laying in your bed and drawing all 
the time!" Mom said.

Vivian made no move to get up.  In fact, if 
it were possible, she sat tighter down into 
her seat.  "What about Vicki?"

"Vicki's at the restaurant earning a little 
money for college next year, and when she's 
not there, she's down at your Dad's office 
helping him out!" Mom lectured.  

Vivian pulled herself up, as if she were in 
great pain, and started for the cabinet.  

"Wash your hands, young lady," Mom said.

Then Vivian turned to the sink to wash.

"Not in the kitchen sink!" Mom moaned, 
dramatically.  

Vivian turned around and headed toward the 
bathroom, she rolled her eyes, then hooked 
them at me as she walked by, "Bitch," she 
mouthed, not a sound, but it was plain what 
she said.  I got up and followed her to the 
bathroom.  

She went in and turned on the faucet, and 
stood, waiting for the water to warm.  I 
stood at the opened door. "Just thought I'd 
make sure you washed," I cracked,  "I don't 
want any boogers on my burgers."
 
"Yeah? Well, how about this" she asked.  
Then she left the water running, and went to 
the toilet, pulled down her shorts and 
panties, and sat down.  I caught a little 
flash of hair as she sat.  She grinned at 
me, her pee splashing audibly in the water.   
Then she tore off a single ply of tissue, 
one thickness, and reached in between her 
legs and wiped herself.  As she stood up and 
pulled her panties and shorts up, I saw the 
dark sparse hair at her crotch again.  My 
eyes must have been round with surprise.  
Then she turned off the faucet, without once 
putting her fingers under it, and marched 
passed me to set the table.  When she did, 
she stuck her fingers under my nose and said 
very low, "A little pee never hurt anybody," 
I laughed out loud.  

Then Vivian turned back to me, "Don't tell 
Mom, OK?" she whispered. 

I laughed again and said, "Now why would I 
do that?"  I was finally learning something 
from the experience of living in a house 
with three females. I kept my mouth shut.  
What little power I had was maintained by 
what I didn't say, as much as by what I 
said.


That evening, it was just Mom, Dad, Vivian 
and I who sat at the dinner table. Vicki was 
still at the restaurant waiting tables.  I 
thought about how different my two sisters 
were.  I had no doubt that Vicki would have 
washed her hands without being told.  
Physically she was like Mom, slender and 
shapely with just a hint of what was to 
come, her complexion was creamy and every 
movement was graceful, even when she walked 
across the room.  Like Dad, she always did 
what was expected of her. Vicki wanted 
things clean, precise, and orderly. Like Mom 
was, Vicki was popular at school and 
friendly to everyone, those who were "in" 
and those who were "out." She was always 
smiling, always happy. I think she got that 
from Mom.  Like Dad, she exhibited a drive 
to succeed.  She would no doubt qualify for 
two or three "Most Likely to Do Something 
Special" spots in the high school yearbook. 
There was no doubt in this house who the 
favorite daughter was.

Tonight she would be eating at the 
restaurant, get off about 8:00 and meet 
Aaron, her boyfriend, for a date, probably 
for a movie. Dad liked him because, "He has 
respect for Vicki." Vivian always rolled her 
eyes when Dad said that. It's interesting 
that Vicki should date Aaron because he was 
a year younger than her 17 years.  Aaron has 
a younger sister, Norma, who had just turned 
14, and she was Vivian's best friend, which 
was strange, because she was nothing like 
Vivian.  I was the low man on the 
chronological totem pole, being just under 
13.

We had a light dinner that night, 
hamburgers, baked beans and American fries, 
but it was one of my favorite meals.  "Hey!" 
I said, feeling mischievous, "There's a 
little dark hair in my beans."

"What?" my mother said.

"It's right there, see it?  It's kinda 
curly," and when I said that, I glanced at 
Vivian, and gave her a little smile.

"I don't see a hair," Mom said.

I looked again and said, "Gee, it was right 
there."  Mom and I looked closely.  "Gosh, I 
hope I don't swallow it!" and pushed my food 
around on my plate.  Vivian, watching this 
whole charade, suddenly cracked open with 
giggles. I tried to hold a straight face.

"What are you laughing about young lady?" 
Mom said. Vivian's eyes were squinted beyond 
discovery.  Mom looked at me, and I 
shrugged.

After supper that night, Mom told Vivian to 
clean up the table and wash the dishes.  
Naturally, Vivian protested.  

"That's not fair!  I set the table. Let 
Vaughn do it."  

Actually, I agreed with Vivian.  It seemed 
to me as if Mom was trying to please Dad by 
picking on Vivian.  So far, he had played 
the silent judge at the bench, the antics at 
the table being beneath his dignity.  I had 
to think that Dad had criticized Mom about 
being too lenient on his less favored 
daughter.

Mom said, "That's enough out of you, Vivian, 
do the dishes."

Vivian didn't move. "You do'em Vaughn," she 
said, looking at me."  I started to get up.

"Vaughn, sit down!" Dad barked, "You heard 
your mother, Vivian.  Snap to it!"  

Vivian's face hardened itself into a mottled 
red bowling ball, but she rose to the task, 
sniffing loudly as she did.   

In a little while, Dad and Mom went back to 
the master bedroom, which is on the first 
floor, with it's own bathroom, hot tub and 
big screen entertainment center.  All us 
kids had to use the TV in the den.  Dad may 
have made a lot of money, but he spent it on 
toys for himself.  I got up from the table 
and started helping Vivian.

When we were half way through with the 
dishes, she said, "You're pretty cool, 
little brother, you know that?"  

It made me feel good for her to say that.  
She'd never even hinted such a thing before 
this. I didn't know what to say, so I just 
smiled, and dried on.

Then I dared a question, "Vivian?  What is 
it you and Norma talk about all the time up 
in your room?" I ventured this question on 
the strength her momentous compliment that I 
was "cool."  Sometimes Norma spent the night 
with Vivian and I would hear them giggling 
from my bedroom next door.  One particular 
night, I heard them speaking in low tones, 
which suddenly detonated in sharp laughter.  
Curious, I left my room and tapped on 
Vivian's door and they became very quiet. 
After a moment, Vivian opened the door.  

I said, "Can I come in?" I said.  

She looked back to the bed at Norma, and 
said, "He wants to come in."  Then she 
turned back to me and stepped aside.  I 
walked in and asked, "What are you guys 
laughing about?" 

They caught each other's eye and started 
giggling.


Norma said, "Vaughn, when you get a little 
older, we'll let you join us. Then you can 
find out what we're talking about."  Norma 
and Vicki spasmed into more giggles. That's 
when Dad yelled at us and told us to all get 
back to bed.

Now, after admitting, I was "cool," even if 
I were little, perhaps Vivian would be more 
helpful. 

"You are a curious little booger, aren't 
you?" she smiled.

"Maybe, but you two always treat me as if 
I'm gonna blab everything to Mom and Dad. 
You know better than that."

Vivian smiled, showing her large teeth, 
making her face look like the Western 
Hemisphere with hair.  Her eyes emitted 
little flashes through the squints.  She 
glanced in the direction of the den and the 
hallway leading to Mom and Dad's room, and 
then gripped my shoulders with her two wet 
hands and pulled my ear to her lips and said 
in a low, deep voice, "Sex, little brother, 
sex!" Her breath tickled my ear.

"Really?" 

"Really," she said.

In my adolescent sensitivity, I felt my 
penis becoming skittish, but Vivian didn't 
choose to elaborate, so I just kept drying 
and putting away the dishes and Vivian kept 
on washing them.  I noticed her glancing at 
me several times and smiling.  When she was 
through, she went up to her room.  

It was 6:30 and I watched TV for a couple of 
hours, then turned it off and went up stairs 
too.  On the way to my room, I passed by 
Vivian's open door and she was lying on her 
bed, drawing, and listening to her CD, 
turned very low.   Dad always made us listen 
on low volume or use earphones.   "Vaughn?" 
she called.

I stopped and went back to her room and 
stood at the door.  She lay there and just 
looked at me. 

I said, "What?"

"Come here," she said, and closed her 
drawing tablet.

I walked up to her bed and she scooted over 
toward the wall.  I took the cue and sat on 
the side of her bed.  Again she looked at me 
a few moments.

"You know what I told you, about me and 
Norma, talking about sex?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know about sex?" she asked.

"You mean about where babies come from?" I 
asked.

"Yes, and what people do to get them," she 
said.

"About the penis and the virgin?" I asked.

"Vivian laughed out loud," and I felt 
stupid. 

"It's a `vagina' not a `virgin!' she 
grinned.

"Yeah, well I know all about it.   The man 
puts his peter in the woman's thing and nine 
months later a baby comes along, am I 
right?"

"Well yes, but do you know about how good it 
feels for a man and woman to do that?

"To have a baby?" I asked.  I couldn't 
believe it after the childbirth scenes I had 
watched on TV.

"No," she giggled, "To fuck!"  Just here, 
Vivian jabbed me softly in the back with her 
knees.

I swallowed.  I'd never heard her use the 
word before.  I didn't know what to say so I 
said, "You mean for the man?"

"Both!  The girls at school talk about it 
all the time," she said.

"What do they say?" I asked.

"They say it's the most wonderful feeling in 
the world, it makes you tingle all over, 
like when you do it to yourself, only 
better."

I felt my face get very red.

"Vaughn?"

"What?"

"You do play with yourself, don't you?" she 
asked, nudging me with her knees.

I said nothing.

"I know you do.  I heard you slapping away 
in the bathroom one day," she said.  

"Don't tell Mom, please Vivian."

She laughed, her voice low.  "I won't tell. 
Besides, girls do it too?"

"Really?"

"Sure."

I swallowed and felt a nervous smile on my 
lips. "Do you do it?" I asked, and I felt my 
penis begin to lift a little. 

"All the girls do, except maybe for Vicki, 
the little tight-ass."  Vicki's status as 
favorite daughter was having its predictable 
effect on Vivian.

"Really" But how?" I was getting excited.

"I'll tell you sometime, little brother, but 
doing to yourself is not like really being 
together, you know, fucking," she said. 
Evidently the word was a kind of thrill for 
her. The boys at school said it all the 
time.  But around our house we didn't talk 
that way, hardly ever a "damn" and never a 
"fuck," at least until tonight. 

"I wonder how it feels," I said. "Wouldn't 
you be afraid of having a 
baby, if you.you know, like fucked?"

Vivian sat up. "No, no, little brother, they 
have pills you take for that, or you can 
wear a rubber, but I hear it doesn't feel as 
good with a rubber."

"Girls wear commons?" I asked.

 "Condoms," Vivian corrected, "No, boys wear 
the condoms.  It's a little rubber bag you 
put over your cock."  She gave a hard 
emphasis to "c" and the "k" in the word.  
Another new vocal adventure.

"Do you think Mom and Dad still do it?" I 
asked.

"Fuck?" she laughed.  "Vaughn, what do you 
think they go to their room and lock the 
door for?

"They told me we needed to learn to respect 
privacy and that they didn't want to be 
disturbed."  

"I'll bet they don't!" she said, grinning, 
her knees pressing the small of my back.

"But isn't it wrong for us kids to do it?" I 
asked.  By now, my penis was fluttering like 
a butterfly, and I had a shaky feeling in my 
lower back.  I pressed my wrists into my 
crotch, trying not to be obvious.

"Shit, Mom and Dad do it all time!" what's 
wrong with it?

"But they wouldn't like for us kids to do 
it, you know that." I said.

"Yeah, little brother, there're lots of 
things they don't like, but they get to do 
them, and everybody else is doing them."  
Her voice took on an angry tone, "Everybody 
but me!  I can't get a boy to even look at 
me!"  Her face showed a ferocious frown.  

I didn't say anything.  My ears were 
burning.  She became quiet a moment.  Then 
she smiled.  "You cock is hard, isn't it?" 
Her eyes were slits.  Her knees lingered on 
my back now.
 
I kept silent.

`It's OK little brother," she said, touching 
my face,  "You know I won't say anything.  
You're cool, even though you are little."

That made me fell good, and very close to 
Vivian.  I looked at her in the eyes and 
smiled.

She smiled back, and said, "Come here 
Vaughn, and let me kiss you."

Now, kisses were something we used to do a 
lot of in our family when we were little, 
but Vivian and I never kissed.  Sometimes 
Vicki would kiss me, and Mom never stopped.  
I don't think I remember Dad kissing any of 
us kids unless it was something special.  If 
we were directed to kiss somebody out of a 
family show of feeling, we offered our cheek 
and smacked whatever cheek was offered to us 
in return, and then got on with life.  That 
limited measure of bussing was plenty for 
me, so when Vivian asked for a kiss, it was 
a momentous occasion. Obviously there was a 
bonding occurring here between my sister and 
I.  Sure, I would be glad to get a kiss from 
Vivian. I shifted, putting my left knee up 
on the bed and leaning over toward her.  I 
turned my cheek to her, and she softly 
kissed it. Then she said, "Vaughn, I want to 
kiss you with a French kiss."

I turned to look into her face, still very 
close after the kiss.  I was puzzled.  I had 
seen French kissing on cable movies, but I 
had not connected the name to the action.  I 
had heard somewhere of a French kiss, but I 
always thought about the French generals who 
would give their soldiers a medal, then kiss 
them on either cheek.

"OK." I croaked, feeling very ceremonious, 
solemn and military.

She pulled her feet up, shifted and sat 
beside me.  She was just a little taller 
than I was, so our faces were almost level 
with one another.

"Lean over here," she said.

I leaned and put my round face in front of 
hers. Vivian put her equally round face at 
an angle to mine and pressed her lips to me. 
Then I felt her tongue slip into my mouth 
and begin to move.  She pulled me close and 
I felt a wonderful, weak feeling on the 
backs of my thighs.

My penis was now standing at full attention 
inside my pants. Both my arms went around my 
sister and I returned the kiss, awkwardly, 
but enthusiastically.  Suddenly, her hand 
was on my crotch, squeezing tightly.  The 
shaky feeling in my thighs shot up into my 
belly and down to my feet.  My breath 
caught, then expelled suddenly, and I 
groaned as I felt the warm semen shooting 
into my underwear.  

Vivian held the kiss for a moment longer, 
and then pulled back.  "Oh little brother!" 
she crooned.  "You came didn't you?" She was 
grinning, and her eyes were flashing.  She 
kissed me on the lips again, but this time 
with her mouth closed, and very tenderly.

"I have to.I have to rest," I said, and I 
did, collapsing right in front of her bed.  
I sat cross-legged, and slump shouldered, 
with my head and eyes down, panting, trying 
to get back on even keel.  Vivian's toes 
found my knee, and traced up my thigh, and 
rested on my penis.  She tapped it with her 
big toe.  

"Is it going down?" she asked.

"A little," I said.

"Did you get wet?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. I sat in a delicious trance.

After a while, I looked up and Vivian's 
fingers were inside the leg of her shorts. I 
sat and watched her, enthralled.  Her breath 
came in short spurts and her eyes were half 
closed.  Her movements became faster, till 
finally she seemed to clutch and press into 
herself, and hold her breath.  Then she let 
it out in an extended sigh. She was calm a 
long moment, her eyes shut but relaxed.

"Vaughn?" she whispered in a ragged breath, 
eyes still closed.

"Yes?"

"Come up here, and hug me a minute."

I sat back down beside my sister and pulled 
her head into my chest, put my arms around 
her upper back and held her close. Then I 
felt her arms come around me and she put her 
hands on my back rubbing them over it.

Finally she settled, and just hugged me to 
her, loving me.  My penis, bathed in its own 
wetness was now in a semi-hard state.  With 
a little encouragement, I could have come 
again, but mainly, I just felt relaxed, and 
loved.

"Sweetheart," she whispered, "You need go 
take a shower, and get out of these clothes.  
Better suds out your underwear.   We'll talk 
some more after while."  

On the way to the bathroom, I thought about 
all the odd sounds I had heard come from 
Vivian's mouth that night, articulate and 
otherwise.  Some were sexy, some were 
wicked, but none more strange, and none more 
dear than the last one out of her mouth.  
"Sweetheart."

END OF PART 1

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