Chapter 4: Thoughts of Revenge

As the game went on, my dad asked me to go upstairs and get some more beers for the men. As I was about to enter the kitchen, I paused as it seemed there was some sort of argument going on in there. I sat back in the eating area where I could listen in without being seen and it soon became clear it wasn’t an argument so much as a heated discussion. Apparently Aunt Shari and Julie were talking in the kitchen about how me and Kristi had been behaving like such sluts today.

Actually, they seemed most disgusted with Kristi but I wasn’t off the hook by any means. It was like they somehow “understood” Kristi’s actions given her dad leaving when she was little, not to mention having a mother with no morals (as supposedly “proven” by her moving in with my dad). Yet when it came to me, they blamed ME for being the slut and being too much for my mother to handle. According to them, now that my mom wasn’t there to put on the breaks, I was being “contaminated” and “influenced” by living with Kristi, with the proof being I was getting “worse” than ever...

It was my Aunt Shari who seemed the most pissed off about my Aunt Linda living with my dad. She called my Aunt Linda every nasty name in the book - Jezebel, adulteress, you name it. Given how strict my mom and dad both were about adultery with me, I found her remarks rather silly, if not downright stupid, but she just went on and on about how horrible it was that a woman would sleep with her dead sister’s husband so soon after she had died (so soon - a year ater??).

My Aunt Julie seemed more concerned about the impact Kristi and I were having on her husband. Apparently she didn’t really care about her sister-in-law’s husband but she surely was pissed off about hers. All this lamenting was rather surreal as she had no idea her loving hubby had been giving it to my mom for years under her very nose. Heck, I’d only done him twice and she was pissed at ME! Rather ironic I should think.

Listening to them rant I felt my anger beginning to build up in me. To be honest, I hated my Uncle Jim - he was boorish and smelly and had no respect for women, not even his niece or daughter. He fucked me because he loved to fuck teenage girls and it was the same with his daughter Tammy. I hated seeing him do her because I knew it wasn’t out of love and respect, as it was when my dad did me, but just an older man getting his rocks off fucking a girl a third his age. As for my Uncle Paul, as I said I’d only done him twice. The first time he sort of caught me off guard by spilling the beans about him and my mom. The second time was more out of spite, to prove to him he didn’t control me like he probably thought he did after the first time.