Something Old, Something New
by Lubrican

Chapter One

Where to start?  I suppose it would be with the question I asked my mother while we were planning my wedding ceremony. I was going through a book that listed all kinds of rituals and traditions pertaining to weddings and saw something I'd always wondered about. 

"Mom?"

"Yes, Megan. "

"Have you ever wondered where this came from: ‘Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, and a silver sixpence in her shoe’?"

"Well, as it happens, I know where it came from," said my mother. "But in our family it has a different meaning. "

"Oh?  Tell me. "

"I don't think so," she said softly. 

"Why on earth not?"

"When your father was still here, he insisted that you be raised differently than I was. After the divorce I suppose I just left things as they were. "

"Mother!  Whatever are you talking about?  You were raised just like anybody else your age . . . weren't you?"

"Not by half, darling," said my mother. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Why wouldn't I?" I was really curious now. She was acting so mysteriously. 

"Because once you know, it might change your whole life. "

"I don't see how finding out how my mother was raised would change anything at all!" I insisted. 

But . . . as it turned out . . . it did change my whole life. 

====================================

Maybe I should have started with telling you about my family. I mean they all play a central role in how things turned out, and it would probably be helpful if you understood about them before I explain that silly wedding poem and what it meant in our family. 

My mother is Dorothy Parker and she's independently wealthy by virtue of being a whiz at picking stocks. Daddy still pays alimony, but all she ever did with that was put it in the kids' college fund. She went back to using her maiden name after the divorce. She's forty, and it doesn't bother her in the least. Once Daddy left and they weren't fighting all the time, she's almost always had a smile on her face. She got a lot of support from the family when the divorce happened, and she's actually friends with Daddy now. She says some people just can't live together. 

I have a little brother named Ricky, who is seventeen and normal in every way, which means he's a pain in the ass. My big brother, Tom, flies fancy jet fighters in the Air Force, and goes all over the world. I haven't seen him in over a year. 

I mentioned the divorce already, but it's central to the story too, as things turn out. It happened ten years ago, and it was ugly. Everybody yelled at everybody else, and thought they were failures and all that stuff. Us kids didn't know what was going to happen, and did a lot of hiding and listening, though it didn't do us any good. 

When Daddy finally left he stayed gone a long time at first. That was the hardest part, because while Mom didn't love him, my brothers and I still did. And we needed a male role model in our lives. 

That's where Mom's brothers came in and, as you'll see in a bit, they are really at the center of this story. They all flocked around their sister after the divorce. Not that they were strangers before that - well Tony was but not by choice. 

I'll just tell you about them. 

Uncle Dan is Mom's big brother. He's forty-four, divorced like Mom, and builds houses. He's a huge burly man with thick, curly, black hair all over his body. When I was little he used to pretend he was a bear and chase me on all fours. I still remember peeing my panties once because it was so scary and exciting. I can't believe I told you that!  Anyway, whenever he caught me - and of course he always did - all he did was "eat" my neck and give me kisses. I loved it. 

Then Mom has three younger brothers. The first is Uncle John, who seems to be the only normal one in the bunch. He's an architect, and married to a nice woman named Linda. He's thirty-five and they have two kids who I cut my babysitting teeth on when I was a teenager. Uncle John's hair is bright red. If I have something serious to talk about, I talk to him, because he's willing to be totally serious with me. 

Then there is Uncle Tony, who is actually the baby of the family. He's twenty-eight and was an accident, according to Grandma. More about that later. Anyway, when he graduated from high school he joined the Peace Corps and went away to Africa and India and several other places I got interesting letters from. I think I've seen him three times in the last ten years, though I probably know him the best because of all the letters we write to each other. Uncle Tony has hair that's what they call platinum blond. It's really light, with just a hint of yellow in it. 

I went out of order, by age anyway, but I saved Uncle Bob for last because he's my favorite. You wouldn't think so by looking at him. He's as bald as an egg, for one thing. He's not all that tall, but he looks so wide you think you're looking at a brick wall or something. And he has tattoos almost everywhere. His arms are covered with them, and his neck. I only saw him in a swim suit one time, when I was twelve and we were at a lake somewhere. His chest and back and arms and legs were all covered with blue and black ink in whirls and patterns and pictures. There was some red and yellow and green in there too, but I was scared to go up close and look. 

Not that he was scary. Except that he was, kind of. Back then all I knew was that he rode this huge, loud motorcycle, and wore black leather pants and a jacket with all these patches on it and big letters on the back in an arc that said "SAN REMO ANGELS" on it. He had earrings in both ears and a bushy Fu Manchu moustache that tickled like CRAZY when it rubbed it against my neck under my ear. He did that every time he came over, when he greeted me. 

I guess he LOOKED scary, even though he always treated me so nice. I got the best presents from Uncle Bob, and when I was sixteen, he took me for a ride on his hog and I almost peed my pants again when I looked over his shoulder and saw the speedometer needle bouncing around at the 110 mark. I spent hours looking at the dragons on his arms, and tracing the lines with my finger. 

But the reason I loved him so much was because of his work. Imagine the man I just described, walking into a children's cancer ward dressed in scrubs. He is a registered nurse, and kids with cancer are his passion. He organizes motorcycle rallies that raise funds for cancer research and supply’s things to the kids that the hospital budget won't support. It seems like everything he does is for those kids. 
Of course I didn't know that when I was little. He was just kind-of-scary-but-oh-so-interesting Uncle Bob back then. He called me "Princess" and made me feel like one too. It was complicated, with Uncle Bob. When I was twelve I was convinced I was in love with him and was going to marry him some day. 

Actually, I loved all my uncles. I was their only niece, so even though I didn't realize it back then I got special treatment. My brothers would call it spoiled, but that wasn't it at all. It wasn't about me sitting on their laps a lot, or that they tickled me and chased me and stuff like that. That all just seemed normal. I realized how special our relationship was when I figured out that I could talk to all of them about anything in the world, and know that they'd never rat me out, or laugh at me, or tell me what they thought I was 'supposed' to hear. They were absolutely trustworthy, and would do anything I asked them to that wasn't dangerous. 

I mentioned Grandma in passing, but I should say a few things about her. Her name is Mona, and she's on her sixth or seventh husband. The first three took off for reasons I'll explain in a minute. The later ones seem to get worn out and die. That sounds horrible, but as far as I can tell they all died happy. 

I didn’t know it before all this wedding business came up, but Grandma was . . . maybe still is . . . apparently something of a slut. That sounds horrible too, doesn't it, but it's basically just the truth. Husbands one, two and three left her because of it. Remember all those hair colors I mentioned about my uncles?  Well Uncle Dan and Mom were supposedly sired by husband number one. Mom is a natural blond, as is Grandma, but husband number one apparently had red hair. I don't know the specifics, but the way I understand it, the genes just don't add up for Uncle Dan to have all that curly black hair if hubby number one is really his father. 

I guess the same thing happened with Uncle John and Uncle Bob, who allegedly belonged to husband number two, except that the math didn't work out there either. 

And then there was husband number three, who had a vasectomy before she married him, which was why Grandma called Uncle Tony her little accident. I guess she got her tubes tied after Tony, but her bedroom habits didn't change, which caused husband number three to give up and move on. The next ones were older, and I guess they figured it was worth sharing her to get to be with her themselves or something. In any case, having to compete with all her other men is probably what wore them out and led to their demise. Suffice it to say Grandma was . . . and apparently still is . . . highly sexed. 

It turns out Mom is too, but I didn't find that out until I asked that question that changed my life. 

I almost forgot me. I'm Megan, twenty, just your average girl, and was the most surprised person in the room when Roger asked me to marry him. I stand a little over five-six in my bare feet, weigh a hundred and fifteen, have black hair and green eyes, and one of my pinky toes is longer than the other. Normally I wouldn't tell you this, but based on where this story goes, I'm not going to have any secrets from anybody anymore anyway, so I'll tell you I wear a 34 double A bra and that my hips are twenty-eight inches around. I've been described as cute, but only Uncle Bob ever told me I was beautiful. 

OK, so I think you have enough information about the background that we can get back to the question that started this whole ball of wax rolling. I'll repeat the ditty for you so you don't have to page back to find it. It goes like this:

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, and a silver sixpence in her shoe. "

And I asked my mother if she'd ever wondered where it came from and what it meant. She started with what turns out to be the traditional meaning of it. 

She explained that most people think it came from Victorian times in England. Each item in the poem represents a good-luck token for the bride. Supposedly, if she has all of them on her wedding day then her marriage will be happy and successful. 

The 'something old' symbolizes continuity with the bride's family and past. 'Something new' represents optimism and hope for the bride's new life ahead. 'Something borrowed' is supposed to come from a family member or friend of the bride who is happily married, and whose good fortune in marriage is supposed to carry over to the new bride. 

The 'something blue' part is the oddest, because it goes back to ancient Roman times, when blue was considered to represent purity and fidelity. Apparently, up until the late nineteenth century most brides wore blue. The tradition of wearing a white gown came long after that. It's just a theory of mine, but I think white came into vogue because it's so fricking hard to make something white STAY really white, or pure. 

Just like it was hard . . . OK impossible . . . to keep me pure. That's because I've been in a constant state of horniness since I was twelve and fell in love with Uncle Bob. 

Anyway, that's neither here nor there. She went on to say that a sixpence is a British coin (I knew THAT) that, in the bride's shoe, was supposed to represent financial success. She said a dime or a penny is often used in the United States, what with sixpences being a bit rare here and all. 

She told me all this as she did some embroidery on my pure white wedding dress, that she made from scratch, and which looks like it must have cost a million dollars. 

"But you said it meant something different in our family," I reminded her. 

"Yes," said my mother. 

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Aren't you going to tell me?"

"I don't think so," said my mother. 

I was frustrated by now. I might have yelled a little. When you're raised in a house where a lot of yelling goes on, it's pretty easy to think that yelling is normal. 

She let me yell, and just kept taking tiny little stitches in my gown. 
"Why won't you tell me?" I finally asked calmly. 

"Because you'll think I'm a slut," she said, just as calmly. 
"What?!"

"And your grandmother. You'll think she's a slut too. "

"No I won't!  I don't understand this at all," I moaned. 

"That's because you weren't raised like I was raised," she said with that maddeningly calm voice. "It's possibly the one good thing your father ever required of me. "

"Oh come on," I scoffed. "You guys were in love once upon a time. "

"Yes," she admitted. "We shouldn't have been, but you never know that when you're young. "

"What about me?" I asked. "Am I making a mistake marrying Roger?"
"I sincerely hope not," said my mother. She looked up at me, and her face was very serious. 

"How is anybody supposed to know?" I asked. 

"That's the hard part," she admitted. "And the part that was all mixed up with this tradition I don't think you should know about. It's complicated, darling. Besides, it didn't appear to work for either your grandmother or me, so let's just forget the whole thing. "

"I can't forget it!" I moaned. "You've got me so curious that it's all I'll be able to think about at all!"

"You're different than Mamma and me," said my mother. "Take my word for it. "

"How am I different?"

"You're not a slut. "

"You aren't either!" I almost yelled. 

"Oh yes I am. "  

I could not believe this, of course. This was my mother, the woman who had put Band-Aids on my scrapes, and nursed me when I was sick. She took me shopping, and bought me clothes. She went to the concerts at school that I sang in, and PTA meetings. She was just my mom . . . not some slut. 

"And I'm supposed to take your word for it even though I don't understand any of this," I said flatly. 

"Yes. "

I stood up. "I have to go make a phone call," I said. 

"Who are you calling?"

"Uncle Bob. "

She looked up sharply. 

"He'll tell me the truth," I said, playing my ace. 

She almost looked angry, but then sighed. 

"All right. But remember . . . you DEMANDED this!  I have a feeling you'll be sorry, but if you're going to hear it, you're going to hear it from MY perspective first. "

And then she told me about Grandma's wedding day, and her own wedding day. 

When she finished I was in shock, to say the very least. No, that's too tame. When she finished I wondered who this woman was, and what the aliens who had put her here had done with my REAL mother. 
It was THAT crazy. 

Chapter Two

There are things about your parents that you should probably never find out. Never in a million zillion years would I have believed that something like that happened to my own mother on her wedding day . . . and what happened after that, too. This is also when I learned what all those different hair colors of my uncles meant. 

"You're kidding!" I moaned, for perhaps the tenth or twentieth time. 
"No," she insisted. "Your uncles are, in reality, my HALF brothers, though nobody ever called them that, or treated them that way. By the time Tony came along she was just so used to the Parker name that she kept it for him too. It was easier, especially since she knew she was going to get divorced again. "

She went on. 

"And it wasn't just my mother who couldn't turn a man down. I was that way too. The women in this family are cursed with a libido the size of King Kong. "

"Why didn't you ever tell me this before now?" I asked. 

"Because I was hoping you were normal. You looked normal, and acted normal. I still hope you're normal. "

"Well of COURSE I'm normal," I said in an agitated voice. "I mean I THINK I'm normal. Why wouldn't I be normal?"  I frowned. "How do you even know if you ARE normal?"

She sighed again, and took another tiny stitch. "I could ask you some questions, but they'll be very personal. "

"What kind of questions?"

"About your sex life. "

"Eeep!" I gasped. 

"See?  That's one of the things that gave me hope. You don't flaunt it. I've even held out hope that you're still a virgin. Are you, honey?"  She sounded so hopeful that it distracted me from the fact that my mother just asked me if I'd ever had sex. 

"Well . . . sort of," I said, trying to keep her hope alive. 

"You can't be sort of a virgin," she said, "just like you can't be sort of pregnant. "

"What I mean is that I fooled around with a lot of boys, but I never let any of them actually put it in me. Not there, anyway. "  I closed my eyes. I'd just blurted out something I had never intended to tell anybody . . . not even my husband if he wanted to do it too!

"I tried that a couple of times," said my mother casually. "Didn't much care for it. I favor the real deal. "

"Mom!" I moaned. 

"Well you asked!" she snapped. "And that's just the tip of the iceberg, so get over being shocked. There's lots more to come. Your grandmother is a member of the mile high club and she joined in a biplane during an introductory flying lesson when she was eighteen!"
"You're KIDDING!" I gasped weakly. 

"And they didn't have autopilots in those days either," said my mother. She sounded impressed. Then she got back to me. 

"How many boys have you fooled around with?"

"I don't remember," I fudged. 

"Yes you do. I do and it's a very high two digit number. Yours is probably still in the single digits, so give. "

I had never actually counted them up, and did so now, going over them in chronological order in my mind. There was Timmy, who taught me how to French kiss and groped my boobs when I was eleven. I decided he was first because playing doctor didn't count in my book. Then there was Daniel, who was the first to get his hand in my panties. Stevie got my top half naked, and Phillip got me ALL naked. I almost let him put it in me, but sucked him off instead. I always kept something on after that, so while Nathaniel, and Brody got their tongues or fingers in me, that was all. Jamal was the one who talked me into letting him into my bottom. He liked it, but I didn't. I became an expert at giving a blowjob that would satisfy just about any boy, which was why I never had to fight anybody off. 

This is not to say I never had anything in my pussy besides fingers and tongues. My best friend Melody got her hands on a dildo and we both decided that toys were as good as boys, and a lot safer too. 
"Seven," I finally said. 

"And none of them actually got you to go all the way?"

"I had . . . um . . . other means of fulfilling that particular desire," I said carefully. 

"Did it have a vibrator built in?" asked my mom, straight faced. 
"No," I said in a very small voice as I blushed bright red. 
"Get one that vibrates," she said sagely. "The rabbit is the best design I've ever found, and they're not so expensive any more. "
"What does this have to do with anything?" I asked weakly. 

"As I said, the women in our family are sluts. We can't keep our legs closed. You've resisted, and that's good. The tradition might actually work in your case. The whole point of it was to have one last fling before giving all that up for your new husband. It was supposed to sort of get it out of your system, I guess. "

"But it didn't work that way for you?"

"Not hardly," she sighed. "Though it came in awfully handy when I got divorced. "

I blanched. "Surely you don't mean . . . "

My own mother looked me dead in the eye. "It beats going to singles bars. Trust me on that. "

===================================

I know it looks like I've left some stuff out, or that I've been trying to tease you or something, but I'm really trying to lay it out for you as honestly as possible, and in the order things happened. I mean, considering the outcome, I really need you to understand that I didn't plan on any of this to happen originally. Neither did my mom, for that matter. But because I just couldn't leave it alone, I learned some things that changed the way I thought about all sorts of things . . . and people. 

But this is getting long, so I'll cut to the chase and just tell you about my own wedding day. I'll try not to interrupt too much with explanations. The one thing you need to know up front is that somehow - and I still don't quite understand how - I ended up saying that I wanted to try out the family tradition. 

That sounds easy, like I just said "I'll give that a shot. "  But it wasn't anywhere near that easy. 

Still . . . I had my reasons for doing it. 

==================================

I got married on a Saturday. That's because relatives were coming from way far away, hundreds and hundreds of miles in some cases, and we aren't a rich family so most people needed the time to be able to drive to and from the wedding while missing a minimum of work. 

The ceremony was scheduled to start at three PM sharp, and be over at three-thirty. With photographs until four, that put the reception at a time when people would be beginning to get hungry, and food would be appreciated. The reception was early enough that people who had to leave that night could still participate. 

It also meant that, between about eight in the morning and two-fifty-five PM, I had nothing to do but get ready to walk down the aisle. This is because Melody, my best friend, was also my Maid of Honor, and she was the organizer from hell. Once she learned what all the plans were, she went into supervisor mode, which meant she didn't want any help from me, because my job was to relax and look beautiful. 
I could have slept until noon and then gone to the hall. But that's not what the tradition called for. 

It was maybe nine in the morning. I was in my dressing room, sitting there in my new lacy bra and frilly high rise panties, trying to figure out how the garter belt worked when there was a knock on the door. I went to the door and opened it a crack. My Uncle Dan was standing there in a suit, looking uncomfortable. 

"Your mother told me to come see you," he said. 

"Oh. Right. "

I stepped back, a little nervously, and pulled the door open. His eyes got all big and round as he saw how I was dressed and he gulped, but then stepped in and hastily closed the door. He locked it too. 
"I don't believe this," he whispered, staring me up and down. 

"Me either," I said. 

His eyes jerked up to mine and he frowned. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

I shrugged. "How else will I know?"

"This is so strange," he sighed. 

"I don't see why?" I said casually. "Everybody says I look a lot like Mom. "

"Yeah . . . but you're NOT your mom," he said. 

"Have you really been doing it with her all these years?"  I couldn't help but ask. I mean I had no reason to think my mother was lying to me about where she got her loving after the divorce. Who would lie about a thing like that?!  But I still had to ask. 

"Um . . . yes," he admitted. For a big furry bear he sure looked vulnerable. 

"She says doing it with you is like lying on a shag rug," I said, for some reason. 

"She does, does she?"  The corners of his mouth curled upwards. "You're too young to know what a shag rug even is. "

"Am not!" I said petulantly. "I've seen them in the stores. "

He unbuttoned his suit coat and took it off. Then he undid his shirt. He was wearing a wife beater under that. You could see his thick hair through that, which was why he wore it. If he didn't have on an undershirt, you'd see that mat of hair right through his shirt. He pulled the wife beater off and stood there in just his pants and shoes. 
"Do they look like this in the stores?" he asked. 

I had seen him in a bathing suit before, at the lake. I think I had recognized how hairy he was, but not really paid all that much attention to it. I did now. You could brush him, I swear!  While I was imagining taking a dog brush to him he undid his belt and pants and stepped out of them. He had on purple boxers, of all things. 
"Last chance to change your mind," he said, with his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers. 

I stood there, maybe a little wild eyed, because if I didn't say something I was going to see my Uncle Dan's prick!

"Go on," I said softly. "

"Oh damn," he sighed. "Megan, you have NO idea how many times I've wanted to do this. "

He pushed his shorts down and stood up. I swear there wasn't a square inch of bare skin on his body except for where he shaved. His penis, which was already as hard as a board, looked like somebody had found one somewhere and just laid it down on this mat of black hair. I had never seen anything like it at all. Plus, he wasn't circumcised. All seven of the boy's I'd played with had been circumcised. I thought everybody was. 

But Uncle Dan wasn't. He was fascinating, and I had the most fun looking at him as he stepped closer and closer to me. Then he was right next to me and I had to look up, because he's at least six inches taller than I am. 

"I want to touch you," he said softly. 

"Oh," I said, breathlessly. I looked down at the prick that was now only a foot away from me. It looked like a cudgel. The first one that was ever going to go inside my pussy looked like a fucking ugly stick that could be used to beat somebody half to death. I looked back up at him. 

"You look scared," he said. 

"I'm a virgin," I gasped. 

"Your mother told me that," he said, sounding puzzled. "That's hard to believe. "

"Why?" I asked. I think I was subconsciously trying to put off what was supposed to happen. 

"Cause you're such a cute little babe," he said, as it if were obvious. "If I was your age, I'd be chasing you everywhere. "

"It wouldn't be the same," I said, for some reason. I was really nervous. 

And then suddenly he reached for me, and pulled me to him and kissed me on the lips. 

Now let me tell you. I've kissed a lot of boys. I kissed more than the seven I counted as fooling around with. And I thought I was an experienced kisser. I mean there was one boy who came in his pants on the first date when I kissed him with my special "I like you" kiss. But when Uncle Dan kissed me, I knew instantly I was an amateur. It was like I was being eaten alive, except that it felt wonderful, instead of predatory. 

And then his hands were all over the place, and my new bra fell off and my panties disappeared and suddenly I was lying on a shag rug that was warm and softer than I could have believed and something was poking where no man had poked before and fifteen seconds later I was officially no longer a virgin. 

"Just experiment for a while," he said, and went to work on my breasts. Brody had been the best at making my titties feel good, mostly with his mouth. Uncle Dan had this way of spreading his fingers out so that they covered the whole breast and then pulling them in, stroking with all five until they centered on the nipple. And that was just amazing in the sense that there was anticipation until the nipple was squeezed by all five digits, which was just killer good. 

I felt a cum about half an inch away and realized with shock that that cudgel was all the way in my pussy. I sat up, and sort of vibrated as a totally new kind of orgasm set fire to my belly. I think I made a lot of noise, because he kept shushing me and looking toward the door. I tried to tone down the only thing I seemed to be able to say, which was a string of "Oh damn . . . oh damn . . . oh damn. "

I relaxed and kind of sagged into his hands, which were now holding me up by my breasts. My head drooped and I was glad for my pixie cut when no hair fell over my fact to block my view of the bear under me. I giggled, thinking about how I had just fucked a bear. Then I stopped, because it hit me I had fucked at all. 

"Thank you," I said softly. 

"Not yet," he said. 

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not done yet. "

Then the bear mauled me. 

====================================

Ten minutes later I lay limply on the single bed in that dressing room. One of my legs was straight and spread a little. The other one was cocked, with the knee bent. I didn't have to raise my head and look to know that something was dripping out of my pussy. 

While I was still sitting there on top of him, the bear had humped, which caused me to fly up in the air. His penis came out of me with a wet, sucking "POP" and his hands did something as he moved so fast I couldn't believe it. I ended up on my back, with him between my thighs. 

I swear my pussy purred as he found the entrance and slid the cudgel back into me, pushing even after it was all in until I slid up the bed an inch. My clitty was just screaming. Then he growled. I mean it!  It was just like a bear, except instead of eating me to death he fucked me to death, lunging and pounding until it felt like we were on a trampoline. It was just wonderful. It was like some wild and crazy carnival ride, except that a lot of the wonderful part was inside me as my pussy decided to have another orgasm. 

And right in the middle of that, the bear slammed in one last time and froze, and his eyes got all round again and he whimpered "Oh Megan baby" in this impossibly high voice. And then I felt that wonderful thing that was stuffing me kind of jump, and then it did it again and again and there was suddenly a big ball of heat inside me. 
I'd gotten my first pussyful of sperm from my Uncle Dan. That's because, as my mom's older brother, he was the something old for my wedding. 

In her case, on HER wedding day . . . it had been my grandpa. 

Chapter Three

"Something new" turned up about eleven fifteen. After Uncle Dan covered up his bear suit again and left, I laid there for most of an hour, just napping and feeling lovely. I had some errant thoughts that I was an idiot for holding out as long as I had. Of the seven boys I had fooled around with, a hundred percent of them would have loved to break me in. Now I know I would probably have loved having them all do it. All it took was Uncle Dan to unleash the slut in me. My mom had been right. There was some genetic flaw in us Parker women. 

Anyway, I eventually got up, and cleaned up, and got my undies back on. It was kind of warm in the room so I left my dress off. Besides, it was hours yet before I'd need it. I figured out how to put the garter belt on, and then put on the white stockings that went with it. I was fiddling with them when "something new" knocked on my door. 

Actually, it was my mother who was knocking on the door, but she had a hold of "something new" so he couldn't escape. When I opened the door she shoved him inside. 

"I'll be right out here," she said to my youngest uncle, Tony. "So don't get any ideas about trying to sneak out. "

"But Sis," he moaned. "This is crazy!"

"It's high time you knew what the world was about," she said darkly. "Now get in there and do your duty. "

She closed the door. Uncle Tony looked at me and blinked. 

"Hi," I said. "I haven't seen you for like five years. "

"Wow," he said, looking me up and down. "Have you grown up or what!"

"Thanks for coming. When did you get back?"

He blinked and looked at my face. "I got into Denver about seven hours ago. 

"So . . . how is Angola?"

"You're half naked, Megan," he said. 

"I can be all the way naked if that will help," I said. Of them all Uncle Tony was the cutest. He had dimples, and his hair was a little shaggy. He looked like a beach bum, kind of, but I knew he was all wiry muscle under his clothes. 

"This is crazy," he told me. 

"Yeah," I said. "Uncle Dan was already here. "

"He was?"  His voice went up. "And you . . . ?"

I nodded. "It was completely different than I thought it would be. "
"Why?" he asked. 

"I don't know. I just thought it would be one way, but it was another. "

"Did it hurt?"

"I don't think I had time to notice," I said. 

"It was fast?"  His eyebrows rose. 

"There was a lot going on, but nothing lasted very long," I said. "At least that's the impression I got. "

"Oh. "

"So do you want me to be naked?"

He thought about that. "You wouldn't mind?"

"The idea of it is kind of exciting," I said. "Isn't that weird?"

"No. It's exciting to me too," he admitted. 

"What if we got naked together," I suggested. 

He looked at the door. 

"OK, I guess," he said. 

Twice while he took his clothes off he said "This is so weird. "  I didn't have that much to take off, so I was naked first. His eyes were all over me, especially between my legs. 

The thing was, when he dropped his last item of clothing, he was soft. 
"What does that mean?" I asked, pointing at his penis. 
He swallowed twice, like his mouth was dry or something. 
"Um . . . I'm a little nervous. "

"Why?  We've known each other for years and years. "

"Yes, but this is the first time . . . I mean I've never . . . "
"You've never what?"

"Megan . . . I don't have girlfriends or anything. "

I thought about that. "Are you gay?"  If he was I was just going to cry because he was so cute it would be a terrible loss to women everywhere. 

"No!" he yelped. "I'm just a virgin!"

"Oh," I said. That was no big deal. Not to me. Until a few hours ago I'd been one too. 

"It's just that I move around so much, and it's unethical to mix with the local women we're helping, and then there's the disease problem, and complications with breaking up and all that kind of stuff. I just figured it was easier and less complicated to wait until I could settle down somewhere. "

"I understand that," I said. "So you don't want to do it with me. "

"No!" he yelped again. "I mean yes I DO want to. I mean sometimes I think about you at night . . . in the dark . . . like this. "  His eyes ran all over my body. 

"So why are you soft?" I asked. 

He grimaced. "I don't actually know what to do. "  He flushed red. "I mean of course I know what to do . . . I've just never done it and I might make a mistake, or hurt you or something. "

I thought about being mauled by that bear. Uncle Tony was half that big. He was wiry, but he was only an inch or two taller than I was. He didn't scare me. 

"Come here," I said, crooking my finger at him. He did and I got a little thrill as somebody who had always been an adult figure to me did my bidding. "I have an idea," I said. 

I took him to the bed and pushed him down on it. Then I gave him a Megan special blow job. Within five minutes he was standing tall and huffing and puffing. Nobody had ever done this for him and it was so much fun to hear him whining and gasping and having kittens. I thought about tasting his juice. Everybody's tasted a little different. Some I had liked, and some was OK. Only once did I spit, and that was because it was so bitter that I just couldn't take it. 

But I didn't know when "something borrowed" was going to arrive, so I pulled my mouth off of him and jacked him a few times expertly, to bring him to a diamond hard state. A little less expertly I climbed up on top of him, since I already knew how that worked. I found my tunnel easily with the tip of his cock, which was smoother and thinner than Uncle Dan's. And when I sat down on him, his eyes bulged and he coughed, and sobbed, and squirted me full of spunk. It looked like I had gotten it covered up just in time. 

He might not have had any experience at this, but he knew he was supposed to last longer than hundredths of a second, and he started apologizing. I didn't care, though, because he was so cute, and he had felt different there for a few seconds, which made me curious. 
So I laid down on him and kissed him for a while, to see what that was like. He was a fast learner, and pretty soon he was just as good as Timmy had been. And then I set about teaching him how to suck my nipples just right, and ten minutes later I felt him all hard under me again. 

"Wanna try it again?" I asked him between kisses. 

He nodded frantically. 

"Me too," I said. "But you're the missionary, so you have to be on top this time. "  I grinned, thinking I'd made a big funny. 

He was game and he was a hard worker. I had learned enough with Uncle Dan that I could tell him what I liked, and Uncle Tony was more than willing to try to do the same. I got myself a really nice medium orgasm and, in the process, found out that the muscles I used to squeeze the dildo worked even better on the real thing, because there was true interaction. I started squeezing his prick and he got all groany again and just kind of went spastic as he spurted in me the second time. 

Just about then there was a knock on the door and Mom's voice came through. "Hurry up in there!"

He almost jumped off of me. His penis was all drippy with his sperm and he looked at it in kind of horror. So I sat up and pulled him over and got to taste him after all. I could taste me too, but we went together really well. When I got done I gave him a little flip and a jerk with one hand. 

"Thank you," I said. 

"No!  Thank YOU!" he panted. 

"You know Mom's going to want to sample you from now on. "

"What?!"  His eyes bugged out. 

"Since the divorce your brothers have been taking turns keeping her out of the singles bars," I said. 

"That sure explains this," he sighed. "I thought she'd gone nuts!"

"Just thought you should have some warning," I said. 

"You're taking this awfully well," he said, as he got dressed. 

"This actually answers some questions I had about myself," I admitted. 

"I think I've been horny nonstop since I was in the seventh grade. Now that I know I got the slut gene from my mother, I don't feel so bad. "

"You're not a slut," said Uncle Tony seriously. 

"I know," I said, smiling. "But I really like what we just did. "

"You did?"  He looked proud. 

"Enough that I know I'll tease you from now on," I said. I put a finger down and scooped up some of his cum and brought it to my lips. I sucked it clean and smacked my lips. "Like that," I purred. 
His hand went to the front of his pants and he blinked. 

"I think you ruined me," he said. 

"If I didn't, Mom will. "  We both grinned. 

He opened the door and Mom turned around, startled. She was even more startled when he pulled her against him and kissed her on the lips. I couldn't see his hands, but I think they were probably on her butt. 
"Oh my," she panted when he let her go. She peered in at me. I was still naked and my hair was mussed. "Are you all right, dear?"

"Great," I said. "I got the gene. "

"Oh no," she moaned. "

"When is Uncle John getting here?" I asked. 

"How do you know he's coming?" asked my mother. 

"'Cause he's the only one who's married, so he's the only one I can borrow. "

She smiled. "You always were the smart one. "

Chapter Four

Uncle John did, in fact, knock on my door at one. By this time I had decided that being coy was probably a waste of time, so I was already naked. I also had an idea to break the ice, if just being naked wasn't enough. 

I had taken a quick bath. While I liked the taste of sperm, I wasn't sure Uncle John would, and I wanted him to suck my pussy. That's because Uncle John could do the most impressive impersonation of Gene Simmons from KISS. He had the longest, fattest tongue of any real live person I'd ever met. 

So when he knocked, I opened the door and pulled him in without a word. I already had the bowl of water and some shaving cream, I'd just put a new blade in the razor I had earlier shaved my legs with, and handed it to him. 

"I need somebody to shave me," I said, acting harried. I sat down on the chair and spread my legs as wide as I could get them. "Will you do it for me?"

"Oh fuck," he groaned. Uncle John was one of the uncles who encouraged me to sit on his lap, even when I got big and heavy. Now I know why. He was a pervert. But what I needed right now was a pervert, so I took advantage of that. 

He got right to work while I thought about ways to talk to a pervert. Not that I thought he was nasty or anything. He was my Uncle John, and he'd taught me to ride a bike. He was a sweety. But I DID want to tease him. He was almost done when I started. 

"Mmmm that feels so sexy," I purred. "I've never had a bare pussy before, Uncle John. Roger is going to go nuts over it. "
"Damn!" he groaned. His thumb "slipped" and rubbed my clitty. 
"You're making me horny, Uncle John," I moaned theatrically. "You're touching me so naughty!"

"Your mother said I could," he panted. 

"You're naughty with my mother too," I sighed. 

"She said you know. Do you hate me?"

"You've wanted to do this for a long time, haven't you?" I suggested. 

"Ohhhh fuck," he groaned. "I shouldn't . . . but I did. "

"I don't care," I said lightly. "Are you almost done?  I need my pussy licked bad, Uncle John. "

"Oh-fuck-me-to-tears," he gasped. I had forgotten a towel, so he just took off his shirt and used that. As soon as it was all clean, he dove in and that wonderful Gene Simmons tongue started fucking my pussy. How he did that and suck on my clitty at the same time I don't know, but he could do it. I had a string of three orgasms in a row, sliding lower and lower until my whole butt was hanging off the chair. He finally took his tongue out of me and looked up. He was out of breath. 

"I have to have you Megan," he panted. "You're driving me crazy. "

"You want to fuck my little pussy?" I asked in a high voice. "You want to put your big old prick in my pussy and squirt me full of Uncle John juice?"

He groaned. "You've done this before. I'm going to kill my sister for lying to me. "

"She wasn't lying," I said. I got up and went to the bed. "Uncle Dan got my cherry this morning, and Uncle Tony was here a couple of hours ago. You're only my third, Uncle John. "

"Then you're for sure the fastest learner I ever saw in my life," he said, grinning. "Can I?"

"You'd better," I said, lying down and spreading my legs. I reached to hold my now bare pussy lips open. This was fun!

He had other ideas, though. 

He wanted to use another position, and he asked me if I'd put the garter belt and stockings on again. I did and he had me bend over with my legs spread, holding onto the back of the chair. It wasn't quite doggy style, because we were both standing, but it was very different. He felt different going in me from behind too. It rubbed the inside of my pussy in different places and even though he didn't get as deep inside me as the others had, I liked it a lot. Plus he could grab my hips and really slam in hard but he wasn't lying on me, so he wasn't heavy. 

It was Uncle John who taught me that there's a third kind of orgasm that I never knew existed before. Or maybe a fourth. A different kind, anyway, whatever number it is. 

It was also Uncle John who taught me what sperm feels like when it's spurted in the small of your back. I had felt it on my hands before, and in my mouth, of course, but never anywhere else. I don't know if it's all the nerve endings back there or what, but when he jerked out of me and spurted all his stuff right there in the small of my back, it was like the sun had come out from behind the clouds. I had to reach between my legs and rub to turn that feeling into an orgasm, but it wasn't hard at all. 

He looked around and got a tissue and sopped up all his cum. I turned around and kissed him for the first time. 

"Why didn't you just squirt in me?" I asked. 

"Your mother said you're not on anything," he said. "It's complicated. Linda knows about your mother. Her only rule is that I don't get her pregnant. Since this is only supposed to be a one time thing, just for your wedding day, we didn't exactly ask Linda if it was OK. I might be able to get away with doing this once, but if Linda found out I knocked you up she'd kill me. "

"Oh," I said. 

"Aren't you worried about getting pregnant?" he asked curiously. 

"Not really," I said. "It's complicated for me too. "

"Oh," he said. 

"Thanks for the shave," I said. I pecked him on the cheek. 

"This was a dream come true," he said, and his eyes got all big and brown and watery. 

"I teased you," I said, feeling bad that I had used this man who really loved me. "I won't do that again. "

"It made it so much hotter," he sighed. "You have a talent for that. 
You've always had a talent for making me feel like I was all man. "

"Well then maybe I'll tease you just a little. "

"Not too much," he cautioned. "It will make me want to do this again. "

"I already want to do it again," I said in a sultry voice. 

He grinned. "You're doing it now . . . aren't you. You're teasing me. "
"You're the best pussy licker in the whole world," I said. 

"Oh fuck!" he gasped. "OK, I'm leaving. That's it. You're too much for me. Damn!"

He was laughing as he opened the door and went out. 

=======================================

I didn't know who something Blue was going to be. I wanted it to be Uncle Bob, but I couldn't think of any way he was blue, unless he came dressed in his blue scrubs or something. I didn't think that would count. And anyway, he had been the something new for my mother. She had gotten his virginity, like I had gotten Uncle Tony's. 
By two fifteen I was getting nervous. It was getting too late to do anything like I had done with something old, something new and something borrowed. 

I was just pulling on my dress when the door opened and Uncle Bob walked in. 

"Sorry I'm late," he said, as if nothing was odd at all. 
"You're something blue?"

"I am," he said. "Stop, you're doing that wrong. "

"Doing what wrong?   I'm putting on my dress!"

"Yes, but you have on a bra and panties. "

"Of course I do. "

"Why?"  He tilted his head. "Do you NEED them?"

"Well no, I suppose not, but they make me feel frilly. "

"Let me help you," he said. 

He came over and undid my bra. I had to step back out of my dress so he could slide my panties down. That's when I found out the panties go on OVER the garter belt. Don't laugh. I'd never even held a garter belt before that day. 

Anyway, he was all business as he undid my stockings and then pulled my panties down and off. He did up my stockings again and then took time to stare at my bald muff. 

"Beautiful," he said. He leaned forward to give it one almost chaste kiss and then moved up to tweak my nipples. 

"Uncle Bob!" I moaned. "We don't have time!"

"We have all the time we need," he said. "Now put the dress back on. "
I did, pulling it up and onto my arms and shoulders. It had half sleeves that were made of lace. 

"Zip me?" I asked. 

"Not yet," he said. 

He moved me so that I was facing the big mirror. I could see him behind me, a brick wall wearing a rented tux. 

"You DO look like a princess," he sighed into my neck. I shivered. He still hadn't zipped me up. 

I felt his hands slide into the back of my dress and around my sides. I watched as the dress got all lumpy where his hands ruined the symmetry. 

"I know about Roger," he whispered as his hands came up to cup my breasts. His fingers began twiddling my nipples. Even so I was on guard instantly. 

"Know what?" I asked. 

"What the deal is," he said. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said breathlessly. 
 
"Yes you do," he said. "We've never lied to each other, Princess. Let's not start now. "

"I can't talk about it," I moaned. "I promised. It could ruin him. "

"I don't want to talk about it," he said. "I just want you to know that I know what you're doing. "  His hands came back out and pushed the dress off my shoulders to the front. My hands caught it to keep it from falling to the floor, but my upper body was now bare. His hands went back to my breasts. 

"Know what these little beauties are for?" he asked, looking at them in the mirror. 

I was confused. It was getting late and he was bouncing all over the place. "What?" I asked, placating him. 

"They're to feed babies," he said. 

"Oh," I responded. He DID know about Roger!

His hands dropped to rub all over my flat belly. "They're to feed babies that will grow in here, right under my hands. "

"What do you want?" I groaned. He wanted something, because there was an implicit threat about Roger in his voice. 

He turned me around and looked right in my eyes. 

"I'm going to be the father of those babies," he said softly. 

I felt my knees get weak. "You are?" I asked, my voice high. 
He lifted me up by my waist like I was a feather, and set my butt on the top of the dressing table. His hands went to the front of his tux pants and I heard the zipper sing as he pulled it down. He wasn't wearing any underwear, and when he pulled out his cock I almost lost it. 

It was tattooed . . . just like the rest of him . . . with swirls and circles and a pattern that looked familiar somehow, but which wasn't clear. But the thing was those patterns were all done in blue ink. His prick was blue. 

"This is going to make you pregnant today," he said, breathing faster now. And in two years, it's going to make you pregnant again. "
I was in better control now, after seeing his Smurf penis - not that it was tiny or anything. It was just blue, and I thought that was funny. I admit I got a little saucy with him. 

"What if I want to be pregnant again before two years is up?"

With his face just as straight as could be he said "Then you tell me and I'll knock you up whenever you want. "

I called his bluff. I pulled my skirts up, and spread my legs so he could hopefully see my bare pussy. I couldn't see it, because my dress was in the way, but I hoped he could. 

"We don't have much time, Uncle Bob. "

It was like magic. His blue penis had been soft when he first pulled it out, but it got hard within a minute as he stared at my pussy and stroked it gently. I realized what the pattern was then. It was a diamondback rattlesnake, with the typical wedge shaped head and eyes and everything. It was incredible. The foreskin looked like its mouth was open and it was swallowing something round and shiny. Like maybe an egg. I shuddered at the thought of how much that must have hurt to have that delicate organ done up like that. Talk about a high tolerance for pain. I was still staring at it, fascinated, when he walked up to me and swabbed the tip between my pussy lips. 

I thought about that snake sliding up in me, searching for a real egg, and shuddered again. 

"Can I really?" he panted. 

"Knock me up?" I asked. 

He nodded. 

"You can try," I said. 

=====================================

Uncle Bob was the one I wanted the most, out of all of them. And the sad thing was that I had to settle for less than we were capable of. It wasn't all that comfortable, on the table like that, and we had to be careful of the dress, and he couldn't get to my nipples with his lips. 

But he came in me with strong jets of sperm that I hoped were white, instead of blue. He glanced at his watch as I felt the jerks of his cock slow down and then pulled out, while reaching with his fingers to squeeze my pussy lips together. His other hand went into his pocket and he pulled out a tampon, of all things. 

"Unwrap that," he said. 

I tore open the tube and handed it to him. I never had a man insert a tampon in me before, but let me tell you, he did it like he'd done it a hundred times. 

"What's that for?" I asked as I wiggled my butt a little. 

"It's to keep my baby makers in you," he said calmly. "We need to get you dressed now. "

Ten minutes later, at two-fifty exactly, I stood calmly outside the double doors of the room I was going to get married in. Bob and Mom were fiddling with my hair, getting the last strands in place. Nothing was said about what had just happened. 

Bob smacked his bald head and reached in his pocket again, pulling out a large silver coin. 

"The sixpence!" he said, and knelt down. I lifted my left foot for him and he took my shoe off and then put it back on. I could fee the coin under the arch of my foot. It was uncomfortable. 

"Do I really have to have that?" I asked. 

The music started inside. 

"It's part of the tradition," said my mother. 

"You said it doesn't work anyway," I reminded her. 

"What didn't work was the fact that I had your brother exactly nine months after I walked down the aisle," said my mom. 

"Lots of brides try to get pregnant on the honeymoon," I said. "That's not so odd. " 

"It is when your new husband is diagnosed with mononucleosis on the honeymoon, and put on strict bed rest for three months. Strict bed rest, by the way, means no sex. "

"Oh!"  My hand came up to cover the smile on my lips. 

"So Daddy knew right away that you were a slut. "

"That's how he found out about the tradition," she admitted. 

"You two can catch up on family history later," said Uncle Bob. "It's almost time to go. " 

"So what do you think?" asked my mother, ignoring her brother, who might be the father of his own nephew. When I'd seen his rattle snake, I hadn't been able to see what color his pubic hair was, assuming he had any. Maybe he was bald down there too. He'd been bald as long as I could remember and I'd never asked him why he never let his hair grow out. Maybe if he ever did it would be red curly hair like Tommy, my big brother. His Fu Manchu had some red in it. 

My mother kept talking which prevented me from thinking about it any more. "Are you glad we did it?"

I took Uncle Bob's hand, but spoke to her. "You're supposed to be down there, so you can give me away. "  She hurried down the aisle. 
The wedding march started and Uncle Bob offered me his arm. Daddy was in Singapore and couldn't get back, but I didn't care. We waited for the right music to get there to step off on. 

"I am glad she talked me into the tradition. "

"When you get back from the honeymoon, let me know," he said, sotto voce. 

"Why?  Are you going to come do something naughty to me?"

"I can't leave it to the chance of just one time," he whispered. 
  
"You wasted your time anyway," I said. "My period ended last Thursday. "

"Oh. He sounded a little disappointed. "

"Two days after I get back from Cancun I'll be ovulating," I whispered. I pulled his arm against my breast. It felt lovely all naked under the cloth of the dress. "But I want to be made pregnant in a bed, where it's comfortable," I added. 

"Got it," he said. He looked a little wild eyed. 

"I'll tell the maid I'm expecting you," I said. 

"Right," he said. 

The grand march started and we stepped forward. 

"I love you, Uncle Bob," I said. 

"I love you too, Princess," he sighed. 

We slowly walked toward the front of the hall, where Roger, soon to be my husband, waited for us nervously. He was probably wondering if it was all going to fall apart. 

I never told you about Roger . . . did I?

I met Roger in college when we were assigned as lab partners. We worked on software code together for three semesters, taking it from an assignment to a full fledged master's project. His parents are from old money, and they were willing to bankroll a startup company with us as partners. But there were things they wanted. They wanted some commitment from me that involved more than partnership papers. They were willing to be VERY generous. 

One of the things they wanted most was a wife for their son, so that the world might be convinced for as long as possible that he wasn't gay. 

He was a good guy, with a brilliant mind, and I didn't have any prospects anyway. It meant being an instant millionaire for me, along with access to the best equipment and funding for all the projects I had in mind. It was a little mercenary of me, I admit, but both of us got some of what we wanted. I'd had to give up the idea of having a family though. 

As I walked down the aisle on my Uncle Bob's arm, and felt the warm glow of his semen still inside me, I smiled brightly at Roger. 
A baby was going to go a long way towards making his parents very happy, and the part Roger was going to play much more believable. 






