A Well-Lived Life 2 - Book 3 - Jessica
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Ma/ft, Fa/Fa, Mult, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, Fiction, Military, Tear Jerker, Workplace, Polygamy/Polyamory, First, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Petting, Sex Toys, Pregnancy, Cream Pie, Slow,
Desc: Coming of Age Sex Story: Prologue - This is the continuation of the story told in "A Well-Lived Life 2", Book 2. If you haven't read the entire 10 book "A Well-Lived Life" and the first two books of "A Well-Lived Life 2" you'll have some difficulty following the story. This is a dialog driven story. The author was voted 'Author of the Year' and 'Best New Author' in the 2015 Clitorides Awards.
May 29, 2001, Chicago, Illinois
“Do you know what today is?” Birgit asked.
“Your 13th birthday!” I chuckled.
“Which means you owe me, Dad!”
“I knew you wouldn’t forget,” I chuckled. “Come sit with me, Pumpkin.”
She came over to the lounge chair where I was reading the newspaper and lay down next to me and snuggled close. Everyone else was still asleep. I was almost always up by 5:00am and Birgit had recently begun rising at the same time so we could spend some time together. School had finished the previous Friday, so everyone else would likely be in bed for at least an hour, though her moms could get up at any time.
“You know what I want!” she giggled.
“Here? What if someone comes in?” I countered with a grin.
“Then we stop!” she said, continuing to giggle. “Or they get a show they’ll NEVER forget!”
“You are SO bad Birgit Elizabeth!”
“And whose fault is THAT? I don’t know who’s worse - you or Mom!”
“Me. You know SHE won’t allow what you asked me for the other day.”
“I know. But you did promise me the other thing I wanted.”
“To tell you about the first Birgit,” I said.
“Yes. You promised the whole story, with nothing held back. I guess that includes what happened with Karin, too.”
“It does,” I said. “I don’t see how I could tell the story without talking about her. Did you enjoy their visit in February?”
“A LOT! They’re so cool. Kristian, Karin, and Kjell are awesome! Aunt Sofia is like that, too. Maybe we should move to Sweden. Nobody there is as uptight as people are here! I swear, Tiffany’s parents are such dorks!”
“We talked about that beforehand. I warned you what might happen.”
“It’s so stupid! It was just me, Tiffany, Jesse, Matthew, and Amber! It’s not like any adults were in there!”
That was true, though Tiffany reminded me of Mary Harrison when she was that age, and I wouldn’t have minded being in there with her! I HAD been in there with Amber, who, despite her age, was so much like her mom that it scared me. But we had rules to keep our family safe.
“You know full well that Aunt Penny has NO problem with Amber being in the sauna naked with you guys, or even with adults. But you shouldn’t have had Tiffany naked in there with you. That’s when we wear suits or use towels. We used to call it the ‘Weekend Rules’ before you were born.”
“But it’s DUMB, Dad! It’s not like we were having sex or anything!”
“Birgit, honey, the fact that you would freely walk naked up and down Woodlawn Avenue doesn’t mean that everyone would, or would be comfortable with you doing it. Tiffany’s mom obviously wasn’t comfortable with the idea of how we use the sauna.”
“But Tiffany was OK with it! She just took off her clothes and walked in like a NORMAL person.”
“I know, Pumpkin. But her mom gets to decide what’s right for her. Just like we do for our kids.”
“But you let us decide almost everything! You told me I could go on the Pill whenever I wanted to! You told me I could have sex when I thought I was ready!”
“Yes, I did. And the same is true for your brothers and your sisters. But your moms and I, and Aunt Elyse, Aunt Josie, and Aunt Jennifer are NOT normal Americans. And neither are Aunt Kathy, Aunt Penny, or their husbands.”
“‘Normal’ Americans are a bunch of uptight, prudish dopes!”
I chuckled, “You’ve been talking to Aunt Penny, haven’t you?”
Penny still used the word ‘dope’ just as she had when I’d first met her. She also still had a dog named Pete, though this was Pete II. He was just as hyper as his predecessor, always one bark away from a stroke.
“Yes. She promised to tell me all about the two of you when I turn fifteen!”
I groaned, “I may have to kill her! But didn’t you come here for something else?”
She traced a finger up my arm, “Oh, I did! Start talking or you’re going to give me the other thing instead!”
I hugged her tight to me and related the story of the beautiful young Swedish girl who had captivated my attention twenty-four years before, and who, through her life and death, had set me on a journey of self-discovery and opened a whole new world to me. And whose memory I honored by telling her story.