2: Kristin's 1st time, ghosts, getting preggo

Dueling Narrators
(v2) by Jamie and Lisa
Lake Houston, Texas
Sunday June 2, 2019

Yesterday there had been a lovely interlude. It existed between the time we helped put her acquired bounty away, Kristin having returned from the grocery, and the time she needed to fill the crusts we had made. During that time we had placed our lover Kristin upon the cool granite countertop and had both of ourselves a very good good taste of the world’s finest chef. She was so delicious; we savored her juices rich fruity body with its smoky undertones and savory notes.

Just as a fine wine develops a more complex character with age, our sister by choice Kristin was better in 2019 than she was back almost exactly forty-six years ago in the summer of 1973. The summer she joined us as one of our lovers. The summer we two first took her uncertain hand and brought it to explore our naked breasts, one after the other, while changing clothes in our room.

(L) Kristin had just turned eighteen and was beautiful,” Lisa said, “but she dressed like a spinster librarian, polyester pantsuits and double-knits. We took her shopping to get a couple pretty attractive dresses that flattered her many curves.

(P) Dresses that our brother-lover George liked.

(L) He does have really good taste.

(P) You took off your dress, and she was just staring at you.

(L) She hadn’t ever seen nipple piercings before.

(J) Her brother Steve had gone out with Lydia, she has pierced nips.

Lisa, overvoice We, together with Lillian, Punch and George were on our high school’s cross-country team. Go Billys and Billies ... Lydia and Michelle who were one and two years ahead of us in school were on the team as well. They had gone to a tattoo shop in Austin before a big meet, and had their nipples pierced on a dare, then they did great. Edwards, being a typical small town, everybody knew everything about everyone else. Although, oddly in this case, what people knew was actually true.

(L) Jamie, remember how you took her hand at brought it up to your breast slowly inviting her to examine you.

(J) Then you told her that all girls are bi.

(L) Not exactly, I told her the truth. All people are built for sex with both genders. That the prohibitions on sex with a person of your same gender was societal, not natural. That it was political ... Meant to maintain the status quo ... Not even based in the religious texts the uneducated refer to. I honestly told her that the first human contact she had after birth was her mother’s breast. How it nourisher her, and how that is primal to all of us mammals.”

(J) Equal parts Xavier Hollander and Jesus.

(L) No, everything Xavier said was said long before. As King David wrote in Ecclesiastes (1:9) “what has been will be again; what has been done will be done again, and there is nothing new under the sun.”

(J) She touched us, and we touched her. We loved her and she loved us. She wanted your brother so much.

(L) Our brother.

(J) You are going to make me wet saying that.

(L) And then, as your loving sister, I will help you deal with your wetness.

(J) She wanted George so much.

(L) She still does. We helped both of them achieve their dreams.

(J) We knew what George liked...

(L) Exactly, we were both his lovers. We understood him, she was what he wanted or maybe what he needed, even if he didn’t realize it yet.

(J) We dressed nice, attractively. In simple flattering dresses that let our natural beauty shine through. We only wore a tiny ‘smidge’ of makeup, just to accent ourselves, not to overwhelm us.

(L) Because that is exactly what our brother George liked.

(J) The three of us naked on the bed George made. The spot where the best moments of my life took place.

(L) The spot my brother first fucked you on the year before.

(J) Where you led him and said I wanted him.

(L) You did, but were too shy to ask.

(J) True ... Three firsts on that bed. We laid Kristin down.

(L) That would be after you licked and tweaked her nipples and massaged her breasts.

(J) Did she mind.

(L) No Jamie, it feels wonderful when you do that.

(J) You got her ready, kissing her mound and her pubes and her lips. Gently spreading her open for me.

(L) Then you dove right in.

(J) Diver down ... While you were kissing her, and she was tasting herself for the first time from your lips.

(L) You made her do a little butt off the mattress hula.

(J) She was really into it.

(L) No more than she was this morning.

(J) She was gripping both of our heads, our hair, and then she shrieked.

(L) Doesn’t it make you happy, knowing it was her first time. Becoming a woman, and having a wonderful experience with those who truly love you.

(J) Yeah, it was so fucking sweet.

Lisa, overvoice It being Sunday today, we had all gone to church earlier to listen to Eva deliver her sermon. For so many in the pews it was a ninety-minute round trip to ‘feel good about doing nothing.’ For Eva, following in his footsteps, it was an affirmation of her father’s many frustrations as our childhood pastor. That those most happy to receive instruction were those who needed him the least. That too many valued appearance over substance.

Eva was still at the mission fulfilling the creed of our denomination, to show our love of our eternal parent through acts of love to our mortal brothers and sisters, not through cheap praise. She had a couple of different self-help groups today. We do almost all of the outreach activities with Eva, but not the AA and NA stuff, it’s just too painful.

We know it helps the people in those programs, so long as they stick with the program. But they are programs designed to help the substance abuser in their future. That is a really good thing, for them. But the crap about making things right; it’s feel good crap, and we want no part of it. Years ago Monica, Jamie’s biological sister, was doing some dumbass twelve-step program or another and ostensibly trying to make amends to those she had wronged.

But really nothing could ever be done to make right what Monica had done to Jamie. What Monica had convinced Hugh to do to Jamie. I call it all a dumbass process because it isn’t for the victim, it’s to ease the perpetrator’s conscience. Poorly implemented they are like all of that restorative justice crap, just a second victimization of the victim.

Jamie and I, we totally favor letting go of anger, because that internalized anger eats the victim up inside. Meditation is good; understanding is good; acceptance of the unchangeability of the past is good. Forgiveness benefits the perpetrator not the victim. Healing and moving on is good for both the victim and perpetrator, but the forgiving ... The perpetrator doesn’t have to be involved in the victim’s healing.

I am not impartial. I am Jamie’s wife having married her not once, but three times. Our first religious ceremony was beautiful and it holds a great significance to us and our created family. It means nothing to the outside world. We had a Dutch civil ceremony right after that country legalized same gender marriage in ‘01, then we repeated the process fourteen years later when our home state of Texas followed suit.

Like I say, I love Jamie and she was horribly wronged. But I believe in God and I believe God alone is permitted to sit in judgement of us morals. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no pacifist. I’ll do what is necessary to protect my family, and that includes doing a Mozambique Drill on any imminent threat. But I cannot in good conscience sit in judgement of any other human being. Hugh and Monica were victims of Jamie’s birth scum too.

She was two years older than Jamie, but until she came back asking for forgiveness, I had never seen Monica sober. She was the pass-around-queen of Billy Goat High. Rumoured to be the best cocksucker and best pussy licker in school; although her reviews as a fuck were mixed. Some guys enjoyed the fact she sometimes passed out cold mid-coitis, and some did not.

Ten years after Judge McKenna emancipated her, Jamie and I flew down from Saint Louis to San Angelo where a big-city attorney was making up a succession plan for Jamie’s grandparents. Knowing their only son and his wife were not up to the task of managing the family business they were skipping a generation. They planned to either divide their holdings or create a structure so that their three grandchildren could work together in succeeding them.

Monica had other plans.

(J) Bitch was drunk off her ass,” says Jamie, “stumbling, bumping into walls.

Lisa, overvoice Hugh took control, he guided her, and helped her function at some minimally acceptable level. He spoke for her, so the assembled would not comprehend how truly drunk she actually was.

(J) The bastard actually blamed me and my parents for Monica’s “condition.”

(L) Yes, he passed Monica’s stupor off as her having taken a prescription medication.

(J) It’s called Vodka, quite a popular pharmaceutical ... Fucking liar said she was such a ‘teetotaler,’ because she was oh, so afraid to drink.

(L) I guess she dealt with that fear by drinking.

(J) Only to excess ... He said she was so distraught about hearing of our grandpa’s diagnosis, and what with my being off being a dyke in far away Saint Louie...

(L) Right, ‘cause Hugh was so close over in Austin where he lived.

(J) She had the chutzpah to call me a dyke, after all the pussy she has eaten.

(L) But that wasn’t her fault ... She was a girl, weaker than boys ... A bad “dirty” boy made her do those things. She was a child really, not responsible for her own actions...

(J) Oh, but I was Lillith.

(L) Quality trumps quantity my love. She may have eaten more, but not nearly so well as you.

(J) Thank you my love.

Lisa, overvoice Miarriam Webster should commission a nice little drawing of Monica to illustrate the word ‘hypocrite.’ Persistently drunk, she didn’t graduate from high school, and probably fucked hundreds of guys and dozens of girls...

(J) Worst of all she corrupted Hugh.

(L) You know Jamie, I have often thought that they, Monica and Hugh, should have hooked up. Really, the three of you were the only ones who really know what it was to live in that place. Their defective parts aligned well. Nobody else on this planet ever understood them and they just kept self-medicating with the booze until it killed them.

(J) So like they could just go live in a desolate cabin outside of town raising a million goats and fucking like little bunny rabbits and having mutant ... Sorry...

Lisa, overvoice That day in San Angelo Monica’s dress was every bit as prim and proper as its wearer was not. Hugh was polished, they had a script and were rested and prepared. They savaged Jamie; she was the unwed mother ... The utter nonsense of an avowed atheist making a religious argument that his sister who had in fact been married in a church was immoral because the atheist state did not recognise said marriage.