It was brought to my attention that the characters of my tale are confusing. I do not want confusion, so please allow me to take a moment and explain my family dynamics. This being Ch.9B, Ch. 10 will resume where Ch. 9 ended.
I am Dean Daniels, known to all who know me as Dad or Grandpa D.
I am married to Tammy, a beautiful, sexy blonde who looks forty-five, not sixty, affectionately called Mom or Mimi to anyone who isn't our own child. We have a healthy, active sex life, but my respect for her doesn't allow me to elaborate.
We are both only children, one of our many things in common. After numerous young love relationships with the girls of my high school, then a short-term engagement my freshman year of college, I met Tammy my sophomore year. My family owned a cattle ranch. I played Friday night football, which is huge in Texas, and on Saturday, I rodeoed. I was a team roper.
Tammys' family lived on the other side of Texas, 9 hours away. They owned a horse ranch. Tammy was a football cheerleader and a rodeo queen. We couldn't be more perfect of a couple!
Our dads knew "of" each other but did not personally know one another.
When I brought Tammy home to meet my parents, hers came with us. They loved me, and I liked them. I loved their daughter with my whole heart.
Our parents were instant friends.
We were in love! The match was made in heaven!
We married that same summer. I received my Agricultural Science degree, and Tammy earned her education degree; however, she doesn't teach anymore, but she spends her days volunteering at the hospital, the assisted living center her mom lives in, or the library. My parents have passed on, as her dad.
Both of us, being only children, wanted a large family.
And we wasted no time having Matthew early on.
My parents built their 3,500 square foot two-story home on the ranch in 1960, on the ridge of oak trees with the back yard looking down over the valley, wanting to fill it full of babies. After a difficult pregnancy with me, she was told she couldn't have more children, leaving me often lonely in that big house.
My dad could easily be called a nudist. I saw him naked every day. I knew I could never touch him, but I did look. I'm sure he knew I gazed at his penis. I thought about touching him, but he never moved on me. I knew he was hung. I knew I was too. He was larger than me, but not by much. I will admit I wondered who was larger when hard, and as a young man, I jacked off to that question but knew it would never happen.
I had an Uncle Jim. My dad's brother. He once caught me jacking off in the tool shed; I was maybe fourteen, and he came in and closed the door. He told me I had a nice penis, but I should get a girlfriend. He asked if I had an excellent technique, and I said I wasn't sure. He told me a girl could help me, but to learn my body. He stared at me too long, then walked out, closing the door behind him. I often fantasized about him, but I found a girlfriend, and fantasies were all I've ever had about gayness until recently. I guess I was more suppressed than I chose to realize.
Their house now sits vacant but maintained in front of ours. My mom's 2012 Lincoln MKZ still sits in the garage.
In 1988, Tammy and I built our house directly across, maybe 1000 yards over, under massive oak trees, facing my parents' house. Our 4000-square-foot two-story home also needed to be filled with babies. It has been remodeled several times over the years. In 1991, we added a pool with a hot tub, a structure we call The Club House, and built a more oversized garage. Our house soon became the go-to house for our kids' parties or sleepovers. It was filled with music and laughter--a fun place to be, indeed. That same theme carried over to when our grandkids visited or brought friends out. We never said no to anyone.
