Prologue

We all know what the “Children’s Table” is, right? At family get togethers, the adults sit together at one table and the children sit at another. The children’s table is usually a cheap card table when the kids are younger and gets larger as the kids do.

In our case the adults are my mom, Joyce, and my dad, James, and my mom’s brother, Paul, and his wife Sarah. My name is Mick and I’m 17, almost 18 years old. My sister is Deb and she just turned 16. Uncle Paul and Aunt Sarah have the twins, Robert, and Roberta, we called them Bob and Bobbi. They are both almost 17.

We kids were friends and as soon as we understood how email worked, we remained in touch. Since my uncle and his family lived on the other side of the country in Charleston, SC, while we lived in Boise, ID, we only saw them on the major holidays. Sometimes we met at our house and sometimes at theirs depending on the cost of travel arrangements.

When we got together, talk at our children’s table was pretty predictable. The boys talked about boy things and the girls about girl stuff. As we got older the conversation changed to the opposite sex and dating and sex. Both of our families were pretty open, and we seldom wore clothes around the house or in our back yards. My mom and dad were never shy about walking around naked and so Deb and I grew to be the same.

Deb and I used to take baths together when we were very young until one day Deb pointed to my penis and told my mom, “I want one of those so I can play with it like Mick does.” That was the end of mutual bath time, but the fire had been lit. When I started popping uncontrolled boners, I began to wear shorts more often until I got myself under control and didn’t react to a naked sister or mother.

When Deb developed pubes, she began wearing panties or thongs, until she felt comfortable with her furry new look. She and mom also wore panties or thongs during their periods The first time I saw my dad flustered was when I asked him why they were wearing underwear all the time and he tried to explain periods; mom stepped in.

I had learned over the years, from listening to my dad, how to admire the body of a female. Dad was always talking about how pretty or cute or sexy my mom was. He’d say, “Son I’m the luckiest man in the world to have married a woman like your mom. Look at that butt.” He was always handling her butt. He never called it ‘her ass’, it was always ‘her butt’.

When I got to the age where I began to openly pay attention to the girls at school, I was naturally drawn to their butts. I guess in the hierarchy of things, I was first drawn to a girls eyes, then after she passed by, I took in her butt. If those two clicked, then I began to pay more attention to the entire package.

A few times I got caught; sometimes by the girl, sometimes by their girlfriends, sometimes by their boyfriends. The explanation was always that I was looking in admiration. The girls usually took it as a compliment. The girlfriends usually asked me to check out their butts too. The boyfriends usually reacted badly until I made it VERY clear that I was strictly a look don’t touch kind of guy.

I dated in groups once I turned 14 and began taking girls out on double dates when I was 16. When I proved that I was a good guy, my parents let me go out one on one. I did my share of touchy-feelie but never visited the back seat. When Deb was old enough, my parents had me double date with her. I was her protector and I didn’t mind.

Deb and I both quit growing when we were 12. I topped out at 6’1” and Deb topped out at 5’8”. She grew tits when she was almost 11. At almost 11, boys didn’t know what tits were, but since she was tall, the older teens took shots at her. One day, when she was 12, we were at the park and a guy who was 16 came up behind her. He wrapped both arms around her and grabbed her tits. He squeezed and mashed and twisted them before Deb bent her knee and lifted her foot behind her and caught the boy in the nuts.

He released her and dropped to the ground and Deb proceeded to beat the living daylights out of his face. Two black eyes, swollen lips, and a broken jaw later, the word was out to keep your hands off of Deb. The broken jaw was from me.

Needless to say, not many guys asked Deb out after that. I guess they thought that they would end up with a broken arm if they touched her butt or tits. But Deb liked to have her butt and tits touched. How did I know? Well that, my friends, is how our story starts.