Author's note: The following incidents are probably mostly fictional. All sexual acts involve living humans aged 18+. These TASTE OF INCEST tales (adapted and expanded from RON'S JOURNAL episodes) include incestuous, bisexual, and multiracial groups. Nobody here is named Jasmine. If you don't like male bisexuality, stop reading. Ideas expressed are not necessarily the author's.
*****
An Taste of Incest: A Taste of Jasmine
(Ron, two loving sisters, a cousin, and more)
*****
We shall set the scene.
The time and place: long ago and far away (yes, some decades back), before internets, cellphones, WiFi, safety regulations, and an all-volunteer US military...
Tall, rangy, draftable Ron Carson had started his high school senior year in his suburban Los Angeles hometown amid the familiar crowd he had grown up with, and new kids. During the first semester, the friends became lovers. He learned much. [See A TASTE OF INCEST - A TASTE OF HONEY for that story.]
And then it all fell apart. His father moved, and Ron had to leave everything important behind.
"But Dad, why do we have to move? Why can't I finish at Piedmont High? Even this one semester?"
His father was grouchy, and tired, and snippy.
"Look, I'm transferring to another division in the company, and I want to see Josephine. Your mom's new asshole hubby doesn't want you with them -- that's why I'm stuck with you. Where I go, you go, at least till you're out of school and have a real job and can pay your own way."
"But I have a job! Well, part-time anyway. But Uncle Dan says I can keep working at his shop."
"Too bad. We're moving. This is NOT for your convenience. Now shut up and pack."
Ron had tearful farewell sessions with a few girls. But soon, crates of books, clothes, models, tools, and his well-worn red Honda moped, and memories, were all Ron had left of his old life, a hundred miles and two counties away.
One hundred miles (one-sixty kilometers, if you want to get metric and/or anal) isn't a huge distance in the Los Angeles area. Lots of people commute that far EACH WAY to work EVERY DAY. But they use vehicles a bit more powerful than a moped (top speed: thirty-five MPH).
Ron opened his heart to Judy on the phone. She tore it apart.
"Yeah, sure, the new house is convenient for everything -- everything except all I ever lived for. Yeah, school and parks and the library and stores are nearby. Big fucking deal. I'm going nuts here. I miss you so much!"
"You know I love you, and I miss you too, Ron. But we're just too far apart now. This just won't work with us. I think you'd better stop calling me."
Silence. Breathing. Then, KLICK. Oh shit. Just like that. Ka-blooey.
*****
Ron divided his relationships between "inside friends" and "outside friends". The "inside friends" came into his house, and he visited theirs. The "outside friends" were people he interacted with in public, but never inside homes. He had a fair number of inside friends all his previous life. After leaving his hometown, he had almost none.
Ron knew absolutely nobody when he arrived at Mountain High School. He slowly grew a small group of outside friends, and an even tinier group of inside friends.
Ron at least had one familiar face in his new zone. His wise-ass cousin Will attended the local junior college and worked evenings and weekends at a hamburger stand in the White Front parking lot. A firm vegetarian, flipping burgers. Ha!
Will was a 'close' but not 'nearby' cousin. His family lived a hundred miles away in a different direction. Ron saw them mostly at Thanksgiving or Christmas feasts, and at the July 4 All-States Picnic, where immigrant families in California gathered with their home-staters to complain about the smog and liberals.
But as 'close' first cousins, Ron and Will could have been twins. Hazel eyes behind thick Goldwater glasses; longish black hair; high, sharp cheekbones; dimpled chins. Equally tall and thin. Equally large feet (USA size 17) and long circumcised cocks (more on those later). And similar excitable temperaments. But different mindsets. Will was a year older and a bit wiser, or at least more hopeful.
Even their mopeds were similar.
Ron munched a juicy, loaded burger and chatted during Will's evening break. He shared his woes.
"You're looking really down, guy. Don't like it here?" Will sipped his root beer.
"Hey, it's hard making friends. Who do I have? There's Karl, a loony football jock. And folk-singing Melanie, with long brown hair and unattainable round breasts -- she just wanted an accompanist. And Denny, he's a demented math freak. We conspire to build annoying and sometimes dangerous psycho-electronic devices. And a few geeks in the Mandolin Club. That's about all my 'outside' friends."
Ron paused. "My 'inside' friends... besides you, they're an odd lot. You're the only guy. Somehow, it's the little girls who want me, mostly short curvy hyperactive blondes. Maybe they think the tall new kid is a worthy challenge, and fresh meat."
Will was incredulous. "What? 'Girls', as in multiples? What are you bitching about, kid? You got women chasing you, and taking you home, and you're not even a jock, and you're whining?" He shook his head.
"I dunno, there's something different about... I mean, if they come up to my chin, they seem like women, but if they don't even reach my shoulders, they're just, like, little girls -- little girls with big tits maybe, but... it's just weird-feeling, is all."
"How weird does it feel when they're sucking your dick? That's all that matters."
"Yeah, well..." Ron masked his embarrassment by filling his jaws with French fries.
Will laughed at his fragile cousin. What a fucking wimp!
Ron stopped whining soon after that. Snugly, hourglass-shaped Tia grabbed him first. Chewable little Cherry got his balls for a while. Then firm-breasted Katie, who wanted mandolin lessons while spooning on a chaise -- what a dish! And wispy energetic Angela, with an Afro wider than her shoulders and a mouth deeper than Crater Lake. Too bad they weren't into group sessions.
But he ended up (long term) with MariLyn Hermann, who had recently graduated from Mountain HS and moved on to the local junior college. Their story comes later.
*****
Ron lived only a few blocks away from school, and from the Hermann family.
Mr. and Mrs. Everett Hermann (Ev Senior and Kathy) worked together at an aerospace plant. Kathy had quit Catholicism for Hatha yoga. She returned home from work each day, meditated and practiced her
asanas
nude in the back yard for an hour, and then fixed dinner.
Their kids were short blonde MariLyn, a year older than Ron; taller fuller blonder Bethany, his age, and his classmate; and evasive Ev Junior, a year younger.
Ron dropped in at Will's burger stand most evenings when Will was working. A good discount on the food, of course, but also a familiar ear for talking things over.
"You still hanging with those little girls, guy?" Will scraped the grill clean.
"Got a bigger one now. She hasn't put out yet, but maybe... Anyway, she's Bethany. Got a round face and a medium body, stands up to my shoulder, nice round boobs and ample hips. She edits the Mountain HS student paper. Likes my poetry and essays and she's published a few. We're going from 'outside' to 'inside' friends. I expect her to take me home to meet the family soon."
"Bethany? Bethany Hermann? Hey, I know her! I have classes at the JC with her little big sister MariLyn. Damn, she's a pistol! MariLyn, I mean."
"Yeah? She anything like Bethany? Bethany's really literary. She'll be a hotshot writer someday."
"Naw, MariLyn is, like, hyper and bouncy and scattered. Plays guitar, gets stoned, and she's into weird stuff." Will squirted himself another cup of root beer. "Let me tell you about the Hermann family. They're a trip."
"The household is pretty loose. There's a note taped to the refrigerator door, says: NOTICE -- PLEASE DO NOT SLAM THIS OR ANY OTHER DOOR AFTER 10 PM -- SIGNED, THE MANAGEMENT. 'Management' never physically punishes the kids, and they tolerate some pretty odd behavior." (They later switched careers, from aerospace to slumlording.)
"A few years ago, MariLyn used to have hundreds of iguanas running around the house, hiding under furniture, fucking and devouring each other, shitting all over. Good thing they're gone now. Beth says the stink was fucking awful! Ev Junior plays stoned organ in an acid-rock band. You'll hear them rehearse -- LOUD -- in the garage. He's a sneaky little shit." (He later became a guided-missile salesman.)
"Bethany is the 'normal' one. Don't fuck with her -- she knows karate. You haven't seen the sisters' bedroom yet? They share a bed, y'know. Anyway, Bethany's side of the room is filled with artwork of elves and demons. She's a Tolkien freak. Her head's filled with medieval history and detailed fantastic stories." (She later moved to bleak Scotland and became a best-selling author of fantasy and historical fiction.)
Ron shook his head. "Sounds like a real funhouse. Should I take weapons?"
Will laughed. "Bethany would probably like it if you carried a broadsword or mace or morningstar or some ancient shit like that. She takes fencing lessons, y'know." He thought about her
Passe Avant
posture. Not bad, not bad...
There was a lot Ron did not know about Bethany. He would learn.
Bethany was struck by this new kid. Tall, smart, musical, literate, with a strange air of lost-cat insecurity and magnetism. And he seemed to like her!
Bethany did indeed take him home to meet the family, but it was MariLyn who stuck firm tits into his torso and led him to and fro. And MariLyn had a VW bug, and loved driving him around. Transport! He was no longer stuck on the damn moped! But of course, he could not get rides back to visit old lovers. Bummer...
MariLyn didn't know the details of Ron's old love life, but she wasn't about to take risks. A ride back to his old hometown? Fat fucking chance! He wants to go, he can make the three-hour ride each way on his putzy little moped. She felt good about standing pat.