Because this story contains incest, first time sex, oral, threesome sex, and some romance it was difficult to put it in one category. The farm no longer exists outside this story.
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Living on a farm, miles from town and a mile from our nearest neighbor centered my young life on my parents. For months I didn't see anyone but them. I lived believing that my life was like the life of any other kid. All that changed when I started school.
The nearest school started with first grade so I was almost six when I started school. On the first day I learned that I was different and my family was different.
I was taken from the office to my first grade class and greeted there by Miss Armstrong, the teacher. I was assigned a seat and my first day at school began. Miss Armstrong asked each student about their family and who had brought them to school that day. Most of the kids in my class were the oldest child in their families and had either one or two other kids in their families. Every one of them were brought to school by either Mom, Dad, or both.
"Nick, your turn."
"I have no brothers or sisters. Inga and Hans had two children when they lived in Denmark before the war but they died in the war. Hans brought me to school today."
"Are Inga and Hans your Mom and Dad?" the teacher asked.
"No. They are my parents. My Mom and Dad are in heaven."
For the years that I attended that school I heard about how sad it was that my "real parents" were dead. I also heard cruel and hurtful remarks about living with foreigners instead of my "real family." Those things hurt. I loved Inga and Hans and they were my real family, my real parents!
I did miss not calling Inga Mom. She didn't want me to call her that because she said, "You have a Mother and a Father and they are in heaven. You only get one Mother and one Father but you can lots of people who love you and care for you."
As I spent time with other children I discovered other ways my family was different. Lots of the kids in my class started school without knowing much. The teacher started by teaching the alphabet and many of the kids didn't know it. Some could only count to ten. Miss Armstrong held up a picture of a hen and asked what it was. I raised my hand and said, "A Rhode Island Red." The kids laughed and Miss Armstrong corrected me by saying it was a picture of a chicken. I knew it was a chicken. I thought she wanted to know what kind.
Inga had taught me the alphabet when I was two. By three she and I read books every day. Once a week Hans would drive into town and buy things we needed and stop at the library. When I started school I was reading books on my own.
Inga and Hans taught me every day. I knew what kind of horse we had, and what kind of chickens and pigs. In our garden we grew flowers and vegetables. I knew the names and how to care for each different plant. I worked in the garden every day with Inga and worked helping Hans often as well.
By the time I was ten Inga, Hans and I were doing algebra, reading books and all manner of other things that caught our interest. My classmates, for the most part, read what was assigned, studied only as much as they were required and hated school.
Our family locked up our home every Christmas vacation and went somewhere. Hans wanted to see America and so we traveled. We went at Christmas because farmers are pretty busy during spring, summer, and fall. I saw the Pacific Ocean for the first time on Christmas day when I was twelve.
Inga and Hans had grown up in Sweden and Denmark. In a different place and much different times than I grew up. They worked at becoming Americans and adopting American ways of doing things. Still, some things from their experiences growing up came with them. When I was hit by puberty I became aware of one of those differences.
When I was little Inga or Hans would strip me down and take me with them into the shower. We got clean and we played in the water. As I got older we still showered together, saw each other naked, and left the bathroom door open most of the time. I had grown up seeing Inga and Hans naked without shame or discomfort.
In warm weather we worked in the garden without clothes. It saves the clothes and skin is easier to wash than clothes, Inga said. Hans and I built a shower outside near the back porch so we could clean up before going into the house. When the shower was done the three of us showered together and laughed in celebration of such a wonderful new thing. In that shower things changed for me.
I was washing Hans' back and Inga was washing me. Then Hans said, "Switch!" and we all turned around. My soapy hands were on Inga's breasts. I had washed her body hundreds of times with thoughts of how smooth her skin was and how squishy her breasts felt. I'd asked her years before about why Hans and I had penises but she only had hair. She had shown me that she did have more than hair. Now as I washed her I had a strange feeling. I was getting an erection.
I'd had lots of them. I had one almost every morning when I woke up. I'd read the two books we got from the library about "Boys growing up." This was the first time I got a boner (a word the boys at school used) in front of Inga or Hans.
"I think our boy is growing up, Hans."
"I noticed."
"I'm embarrassed," I said, blushing.
"No need to be," Inga said. "Erections are normal and natural. Hans has them too."
"I never saw him with one."
"I do have them. Inga is a sexy woman and I am attracted to her."
That incident led to a few conversations about sex and then to conversations about the responsibility a man has for his sexuality and how he uses it. It was a mostly academic discussion for a long time.
I went through junior high and high school knowing girls were there and being interested without ever doing much about the interest. I was one third of the work force on our farm and with studying and farm work I had no real time to focus on girls and dating.
In my senior year I sat next to Angela Jensen for second period. I had known her since the first day of first grade. Back then she was a skinny, blond haired, smart mouthed girl. Now, she looked different. She was taller, had hips, legs, and lumps in her sweater. Best of all when she moved I could smell her. Worst of all every time I smelled her I got another boner. I walked between second and third period classes carrying my books in front of my Levis.
After a week of this I told Inga and Hans and asked what I could do. They talked about the dilemma and concluded that I should learn to masturbate. That way I could relieve some of the pent up pressure I was feeling. Hans took me out on the back porch and showed me a way to masturbate. He coached me on technique and watched me do it until I had my first masturbation orgasm. He taught me how to clean up, talked to me about the social rules for masturbation and then he went back in the house. I thought about Andrea as I masturbated and quickly had another orgasm. I cleaned up and went in the house for supper.
I established a pattern and masturbated twice a day; once before I went to school and once as soon as I got home. Because Hans and Inga didn't make it anything taboo or shameful I didn't hide. Most days I did it sitting on the back porch. I thought about Andrea almost every time. Once in a while I thought about Inga. Hans was right, she was beautiful. She had always been beautiful to me but now she was starting to look sexy.
Over the summer after high school I rode into town as often as I could. I went swimming at the city pool, played baseball at the park, all the stuff the city kids did, I did. I wanted to be around the girls.
As I was getting ready to leave the house one day Inga and Hans sat down with me and Hans said, "Remember the talks we had about sexuality?"
