This is a repost of a story from 2011 that I removed, but now I've reconsidered. I originally classified this story as Romance, but it doesn't have all the ingredients for that category even though I think it's romantic. There are a few Erotic Couplings here. It tickles my kink for Exhibitionism and Voyeurism too. I'm posting to Incest/Taboo this time because I'm informed that sister-in-law counts as incest even though I don't see it that way.
All sexual activity in this story occurs between consenting adults.
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I met my future wife during the first week of the first year of our university education. We were engaged by Christmas. I met her family over that Christmas break. In light of the big news, I was invited to visit for several days over the holiday. I slept alone on a pull-out hide-a-bed in the basement.
Margo was the oldest of four girls. I turned 19 before I asked her to marry me, but she was still 18 at the time. We were both inexperienced and naive. We expected her parents to be as happy for us as we were for ourselves. Instead, they were skeptical and confrontational. I inherited a substantial fortune, but it wasn't Rockefeller money or anything. It wasn't enough to really impress her parents. In fact, it made them suspicious. I suppose I would have been disappointed if my money influenced their opinion of our plans.
Part of the problem no doubt arose because I was an only child and an orphan. I had no experience with "normal" family life and probably behaved inappropriately out of ignorance. On Christmas eve, Margo's parents took her shopping as an excuse to talk to her without me around. I was left alone in the house with three little sisters who wasted no opportunity to question me.
"How did you meet?"
"Well, I saw Margo waiting in line to get help with her new computer account, and I knew how to solve her problem. I introduced myself. We liked each other immediately."
"Did you _do_ it to her yet?"
That last question was from Nancy, the second youngest.
"What do you know about that sort of thing?" I inquired of the precocious middle schooler.
She put her hands on her hips and stared at me as if it was a reasonable question that I should just answer.
"No, we haven't _done_ it together yet." My sarcasm practically dripped.
"Are you in love?"
"I'm sorry, I forgot your name."
"I'm Milli!" she claimed. The exasperation continued when the nine year old demanded, "Do you love her?"
"Yes, of course I do. I want to spend the rest of my life loving your sister."
"Have you seen her naked?"
"Nancy, I'm not going to answer any more questions like that!"
"You have. You have!"
The second oldest, Paula, interjected: "You're too young to get married!"
"I agree. We plan a long engagement."
"How long?"
"Probably until one of us graduates with a degree."
"Are you rich?" I can't remember which one asked, but I had to think about the question.
"Well," I hazarded. "I have enough money that I don't have to worry about it for a while."
"What does that mean? Are you going to pay for Margo's college?"
"I don't know. I haven't been asked. I suppose I would if necessary or if she wanted me to do that."
"Are you an orphan?"
"Yes, my parents died when I was young. My mother had a skiing accident. My father got sick." I glossed over some of the gruesome details like the way my mother lingered in a coma for six years, and my father killed himself.
"Where do you live?"
"I lived with my uncle and aunt in Vermont."
"Is that where you went to school?"
Where were these questions coming from? It was as if they had already researched my life and knew exactly how to make me uncomfortable.
"I had a private tutor."
"What's that?"
"I was sent to a boarding school at age eleven, but that didn't work out. My uncle hired a woman to teach me at home."
"Why didn't it work out?"
"I got in a lot of trouble. I was upset about my parents and other things."
"Has she seen _you_ naked?"
"Nancy, I said no more questions like that."
"Are you going to get married in The Church?"
"Yes, probably. I'm not religious and have never been to any church, but I hope to learn from Margo, and I admire her faith."
"Are you an atheist or something?"
"No. I guess I'm nothing. My aunt and uncle never went to church, and I never thought about it."
The questioning continued for hours. My voice was raspy by the time Margo and her parent's returned. The rest of the evening was pleasant except everyone was always looking at me. Margo had pity in her eyes. Margo's dad offered me wine at dinner. I told him I don't drink. That made him look at me like I had two heads. He was the only one who drank that evening, and I think he finished the bottle. After dinner, each of us opened one present in accordance with their family tradition.
Each of the little girls selected one of the presents I brought from Vermont. Milli's "American Girl" doll was exactly what she wanted. My aunt had suggested it, and we ordered it from a catalog back in October. I showed it to Margo in advance. She bought some clothes and related accessories to complete the present. Nancy was given a riding helmet and an invitation to visit Vermont and ride my uncle's horses. Margo assured me Nancy was wild about horses, but no excitement was evident. My gift to Paula was a pair of tickets to "Les Misérables" which opened on Broadway earlier that year. My uncle's brother, Cameron, produced the musical in London's West End. He graciously offered a tour of the production in London anytime Paula could make it. I was holding Cameron's letter in reserve to run the idea past the parents first.
Margo's Mom and Dad opened gifts from each other. He got a new watch that I suspected came from K-Mart. She seemed thrilled with a set of fake pearls. I learned in subsequent years of watching this exchange that they deliberately restrain themselves. They're not poor, but their religious convictions discourage conspicuous displays. Of course, that doesn't stop Mom from driving the top-of-the-line limited edition mini-van (3 years old), nor does it stop Dad from paying outrageous greens fees.
I opened a gift I first assumed came from Margo, but it was actually from her parents. It was an old Bible. I smiled without comprehension until Margo told me to look inside. There was girlish writing in the margins. I was holding Margo's childhood Bible, and it was full of little prayers and intentions and thoughts. I was pleased beyond words because Margo seldom talked about her inner thoughts or feelings. I finally had a window of sorts into her mind.
At the crack of awful the next morning, all four girls started shaking me to wake up and get dressed. Milli wanted to open presents from Santa. I slept in my underwear because that's what I alway did. It caused a bit of embarrassment; I didn't want to just pop out from under the sheets and reveal my morning wood. I'd been dreaming about Margo, and the initial shaking by feminine hands played right into the dream until I regained consciousness.