Chapter 1- First Times
The house that I am currently living in is a mid-80s two-story north of Bigfork, Montana. It sits on ten acres in a neighborhood called Many Lakes. There are two bathrooms, three bedrooms, a living room with a wood-burning stove, a dining area off to the side of the living room, and a kitchen all on the bottom level. The second story is only a loft with access to a balcony and big windows that look out at the mountains behind the house. It was Mom and Dad who moved here from Georgia in January. I just followed along. I am old enough to be out of the house, twenty-two come August. I am also the oldest of five children. So the house is chock-full with my parents in the master bedroom, myself wherever I may find a bed, and my four sisters in the two other bedrooms.
Why am I here still living with my parents? Well, there are a few reasons but I will share only the first two right now. The first is very simple, Mom asked me to stay. Dad is constantly traveling for work. He is always gone two to four weeks at a time, and Mom wants me around to be the man of the house when he is gone. The second reason is that I grew up watching John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, and Sam Elliot movies, and other movies like Silverado. Dad, in all his traveling, was ever extolling the virtues of the West and how beautiful it is. So, when Mom and Dad finally said they were moving to Montana, I said, "Not without me!"
It was dark outside. Night comes early in the mountains during the winter and early spring months. The stars shone brightly casting the mountains in silhouette, making everything seem all the more quiet and lonely. It was strange how the mountains could make me feel like we (me, my mother, and sisters, for dad was once again gone for the month) were the very last people on earth. However, thanks to Mom and my sisters the interior of the house glowed warmly, and per my mother's request, I was sitting on the couch upstairs in the loft.
Mom was in her room reading a book I supposed, or nursing Abigail who was three going on four. Jamin, the oldest of my younger sisters, was in her room which she shared with Abigail, the youngest of my sisters. Beth and Leesa shared the last of the three bedrooms. I didn't really have a room, so sometimes I slept on the couch in the loft, or, sometimes, it was outside in the shop.
"The Shop" was a very large building built right beside the house by the previous owners so that the man, a mechanic by trade, could work from home. It wasn't too bad. There was an office where I set up my office and computer, and a storage room that I made into my room. The only thing I needed to make it cozy, besides my rug and double bed, was string lights and a space heater. Tonight though, I planned to sleep in the house.
It was around nine o'clock and the house was quiet. The loft was warm--almost too warm, and so, I lay on the oversized burgundy couch my mother bought in Florida in nothing but my skin. Not one stitch of clothing except for the quilt that covered me from my hips to my feet as I read Clive Cussler's "Dragon" for the second time. I guess I'm what you could call a somewhat nudist. I really want to be a full nudist, but only in the company of other nudists, or within the privacy of my home. However, technically, this isn't MY home, and mom and my sisters aren't nudists. At least, not yet. So, I am limited to being nude in my room, or with a blanket wrapped around me. Hence, I am a somewhat nudist.
It was as I reclined at my leisure with my head tilted so that the light from the lamp lit my book enough for me to read, that I heard a door open then the soft click as it closed. I heard soft, almost silent footfalls of socked feet on the hardwood floor. If I had been lying on the loveseat downstairs, or sitting in one of mom's wingback chairs I might not have heard it, rather I would have seen what was coming. However, the house had a way of amplifying everything downstairs and projecting it upstairs so I wasn't surprised when I heard those same light footfalls start climbing the stairs to the loft. What was surprising was who those footfalls belonged to.
Leesa's platinum head popped up above the half wall and she looked around to find me. Her big golden-brown eyes found me and our gazes locked.
"Whatcha doing?" Leesa asked in a honeyed purr.
"Reading," I answered quietly because the same amplifying qualities of the house that brought her footfalls to my ears worked in reverse, taking my voice to my mother and sister's rooms as clearly as if I were standing in them.
Leesa's eyes broke from mine and she bit her bottom lip in an expression of apprehension before asking, "Do you mind if I, um, cuddle with you on the couch? Beth is in a mood and I don't want to sleep with her tonight."
"Sure," I replied with a ready grin for my little sister.
Her eyes lit up and her plump mouth broke into a broad smile as she came the rest of the way up into the loft.
"Only," I finished as I looked down at the blanket and the long, thick form of my dick bobbing idly beneath the quilt, "I must warn you. I sleep naked, and, well, I am naked beneath this quilt, and, um, if you want to cuddle, well, my only requirement is that we must be 'Even Stevens'."
Leesa came up beside me but her expression had changed from excited to unsure as she looked from my eyes to my naked chest and abdomen to the quilt that covered my obviously erect cock.
