Chapter 1

Things sure have changed since 1976. Nobody had heard of the Internet or even Cable Television. That meant teenagers had to find out about the birds and the bees from either a dirty magazine or going all the way with another teenager in the backseat of a car.

The internet makes all of those awkward lessons kind of unnecessary for kids these days, but back then it was all mystery and groping in the dark for most of us.

Society was changing – women’s lib and attitudes about sexuality had become far more open. The mini-skirt and bra-burning was all the rage, but I wasn’t into any of that. I didn’t have the boobs to really need a bra anyway.

I had just turned 14 and led a fairly sheltered life. I was bookish, shy, had freckles, and relatively flat chested (especially compared to my cousin and aunt). I hadn’t even considered dating a boy at that stage, but mostly because no boy had ever asked me on a date.

I was at that stage between girl and woman where I still had dolls. I had even packed my Sonny and Cher dolls in my suitcase! I was interested in boys, but boys were not really interested in me. I was an awkward, quiet bookworm with short hair.

When I reflect upon the summer of 1976 and the things that I learned on my Uncle’s ranch, it’s hard for me to put into words how unprepared I was for those lessons and how much I’d grow to appreciate them when I was older.

The number one shows on T.V. were Happy Days, Charlie’s Angels, and the Six Million Dollar Man.

The rest of the country was preparing for the Bicentennial. Gerald Ford was President, and the number one song on the radio was by Three Dog Night. The drinking age was 18 and rock and roll and disco was everywhere.

It was a good time to be alive though – and I remember that Summer so well.

My parents thought it would be a good idea if my brother and I spent the summer in Montana with my Aunt and Uncle. We’d always taken Family vacations together, but now that my brother and I were teenagers, they felt they wanted to have some time alone together.

My brother Patrick is my fraternal twin. He and I used to look identical when we were babies. We still resemble each other in the face, but somewhere along the line, our bodies started to develop differently.

Patrick is athletic, outgoing, and really smart. He has always dreamed of going to U.C.L.A and studying technology. We didn’t know what to expect when we got to Montana. I hadn’t seen my cousins since the last family reunion about five years earlier. My mom assured us that we would learn a lot on my Uncle’s Ranch and she only allowed us to take two books each.

I’d imagine most girls my age would be worried about what make-up and dresses to bring. I couldn’t decide what books I wanted to be relegated to for the entire summer. I chose my old favorite Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret by Judy Blume. I had probably read it about 1,000 times by that point and it was dog-eared and well worn.

It had gotten me through Middle School. I identified so much with the titular character Margaret Simon. Her story was about religion, bras, boys, and getting your period at the most inopportune times. The girls form a club called the “Pre-Teen Sensations” and they have a mantra of performing exercises to increase their breast size by chanting ““I must-I must-I must increase my bust!”

The last time I saw my cousin Hannah, she and I tried it out, and our tits didn’t get bigger, but we definitely had a lot of laughs doing the silly exercises.

The second book that I brought was The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis. It is the fantastic story of talking animals and mythical creatures living in a land of eternal winter ruled by the White Witch. The protagonists enter the world through a closet that acts as a portal to another world.

In many ways, the trip from Chicago to Montana was like entering an entirely new world. The skyline of Chicago and the placid mountains of Montana are about as different as they can be. My parents insisted on driving, so the trip took us almost three days to get there. That was probably the only time I had a chance to read my books.

I thought life on the ranch would be rather boring. My brother was expecting the TV show Bonanza – cowboy shoot outs and action adventure. It wasn’t that either.

My parents spent the night at Aunt Rachel and Uncle Eddie’s house before wishing me a good night. My mom told me to obey my Aunt and Uncle and told us she loved us before wishing us “good luck.”

“Don’t worry Sis, your babies will be in GOOD hands,” my Aunt Rachel kissed my mom goodbye on the cheek.

“Yeah, we’ll put them to work,” Uncle Eddie had a big smile on his face. He was quite the jokester. “There are fences to mend, horses to bathe, chickens to feed, clothes to wash, and that’s all before 6am!”

He winked at my dad. “Put Pat and Tish to work. They shouldn’t be treated any different than their cousins,” my father agreed somberly. My real name is Patricia but, I had always gone by the nickname Tish.

“Want a beer for the road, Mike?” Eddie asked my father.

“It’s 10:30 in the morning, Eddie,” my father replied as he picked up their bags and left the trailer. Attitudes about drinking and driving were far more liberal than they are today.

My Uncle’s ranch is over 1,000 acres just outside of Billings, Montana. He didn’t have a house on the land though. He lived in a single-wide mobile home (which we called a trailer back then) even though it was permanently grounded on the spot.

“I’ll take a beer, Dad,” Lloyd said with a smirk after my parents left. I assumed he was joking. Even though The drinking age was 18 and Lloyd was about 17 – I assumed that he was kidding.

“Do I look like the maid to you, Son?” Eddie responded with a grin. “Get off your ass and ask your mom to bring you a beer.”

I didn’t even realize that was a joke until the others laughed. I was quite shocked that my Aunt Rachel smiled, went to the fridge and got him a beer. “Who else wants one? Gerald, Patrick, Tish?”

“Hey what about me, Mom?” my cousin Harley whined after being left out.

My Aunt Rachel had HUGE knockers – I mean big tits. When she bent over wearing only her nightgown I could see the outline of her butt through the material, and her very natural tits touched the bottom of the fridge. “You can get your own!”

Lloyd and Gerald are brothers close to the same age. They didn’t seem very interesting or particularly bright. They were handsome enough for teenage boys.

My cousin Harley was only a few months younger than me. She had physically developed considerably. Her boobs were even bigger than her mother’s natural tits. She had long, straight strawberry hair that ran down to the middle of her back.

Crystal Gayle was a popular country singer at that time and she was known for her incredibly long hair. A lot of young girls (myself included) tried growing ours that long as well. However, I had recently cut my blonde hair short. I had a lot of body image issues at the time and I picked some pretty bad hairstyles in the 1970s.

Rachel looked up at us to confirm whether or not we wanted a beer. I naturally declined the offer. I had never tasted alcohol and I assumed it would not be appropriate.

My brother Patrick said yes. She smiled and encouraged me to take an ice cold Pabst Blue Ribbon. “You don’t have a stick up your ass, like your mother, do you?”

At the time, “stick up your ass” wasn’t a common figure of speech. I thought my Aunt Rachel was literally asking me if I physically put a stick up my ass. I had only just begun exploration of my body and I wasn’t quite sure why I liked touching and stimulating the outer part of my butthole. However, I had never dreamed of inserting a stick or even a finger into it.

My mind began to run wild for the first time with the mental image of a tree branch impaled into a delicate asshole. Color must have drained from my face when she asked the question – I felt like she was genuinely asking me if I had ever done that.

There was something very promiscuous and flirty about my Aunt. She reminded me of Samantha Stevens from Bewitched – with her wry grin as if she knew something everybody else didn’t. She seemed sexually enlightened and broad-minded as well – which is something that my mother was definitely not.

It may have seemed absurd or childishly naïve, but given that my Aunt seemed so worldly, I thought she might really be asking me if I really had one in my butt in front of the rest of the family.

“No, I have never done anything like that, Aunt Rachel”

My Aunt’s family found my dead pan denial of having put a stick up my ass to be hilarious.

“Well Maybe you SHOULD try it sometime,” Uncle Eddie laughed as he took a beer from his wife and popped the top. The others found this hilarious as well.

“It gets pretty boring out here, but even I never got THAT bored,” Harley grinned at me.

“Are you sure, Sis?” Gerald reached under his sister’s shirt and tried to lift it up to reveal her butt and see for himself. Harley was wearing a long white t-shirt with a yellow happy face and the caption “Peace, Love and Granola” on it. It almost looked to me like she didn’t have any panties on when Gerald lifted it up.

She slapped his hand away and told him that if she DID have a stick up her ass, she’d beat him with it if he tried pulling her shirt up again.

“Oh you two, behave around your cousins!” Aunt Rachel chided the two of them but looked more intently right at her daughter to drive home that she was really talking to her as well.

“Hey, we bicker, we fight, but we love each other,” my Uncle Eddie offered to us sagaciously. “The sooner the two of you stop being polite like house guests and join in, the sooner we can go back to normal.”

“Normal is a setting on a washing machine, Eddie,” my Aunt took a beer for herself and took a long sip. She reminded me of the spider from Charlotte’s web – wise and somewhat above whatever else was happening around her.

“Well, that’s another good reason for us not to have one,” Eddie laughed. He reminded me of a wise-cracking character from the TV show Hee-Haw. He wasn’t a dumb hillbilly, but everything seemed to amuse Eddie most of the time, and he was always ready to crack a joke.

My Aunt looked ready to offer a wisecrack of her own in response, but she thought better of it. She and my cousin Harley made breakfast while the others finished their beer and watched TV. I offered to help but my Aunt wouldn’t have it. “It’s your first day, just enjoy things and I’ll put you to work tomorrow!”

The black and white TV only got two channels. There was an old episode of the rifle man on one channel and the other featured a Soap Opera. The Rifle Man won out and the boys watched that. I sat politely and watched with them.

My Uncle Eddie discovered that Patrick had an interest in technology. He showed him his pride and joy. “This is an Apple One,” he uncovered a dusty wooden box with a circuit board in it. “I got this from a friend of mine out in California named Steve. He’s going to start selling these as kits and people will be able to make their own Microprocessor for their homes!”

“Dad, that’s never going to catch on. A Microprocessor? Sounds like something a guy with a Micropenis would have!” Gerald teased his father.

Gerald was only a few years older than me, but I would have NEVER dreamed of talking to my parents that way. It was so disrespectful. I would certainly have never said “penis” in front of anyone.

“Yeah, it’s just a bunch of junk, Dad,” Lloyd agreed with his little brother.

“Hey, you know what’s a bunch of junk? That Volkswagen van you’ve had parked out in front of the house for two months?”

“The SHAGGIN’ WAGGEN?” the brothers feigned offense at the mere suggestion the orange van they had outside was a hunk of junk. It was missing a tire and looked rusty and old.

I was old enough to know that “Shagging Wagon” meant a van for promiscuous teenagers to have sex in. I was completely amazed at how brazen my Uncle’s family’s attitude was about talk like that around the house.

“The only thing you are going to shag in that wagon is a case of tetanus when one of you cuts yourself on the rust,” Eddie teased his sons.

“They could have a shiny red corvette and they couldn’t get laid, with a twenty dollar bill and a bucket of aftershave,” Harley joined in the humor from the kitchen while she set the table. She had a cute turned up nose and a pretty face, and she looked radiant when she laughed.

The boys were going to fire some racy comment back, but they didn’t get a chance.

“Do you want to stand in the corner in front of your cousins?” Rachel asked her daughter rather seriously.

“No, Mom,” Harley replied curtly.

Women’s lib was all the rage, but I assumed it hadn’t reached Montana yet. There was definitely a double-standard for comments between the girls and the boys in this household.

“Good girl, let the boys have their fun and butt out of their conversation,” she patted my cousin on her bottom playfully and they continued to get breakfast ready on the table.

The breakfast was amazing – no artificial anything and everything was made from scratch. Sausage, pancakes, eggs, even the maple syrup was from trees they tapped themselves that Eddie cultivated on his property.

A trailer is a single-floor dwelling with about six rooms that is comfortable for four people but cramped for seven! I had to share a room with my cousin. Patrick had to share with Lloyd and Gerald. After breakfast I joined Harley in our room.

I had arrived late the night before and hadn’t had a chance to unpack. I was tired from a long drive and passed out almost as soon as we had arrived.

Harley immediately removed her shirt. She was completely naked under the shirt. The sight of her huge tits floored me. Her boobs hung down a little and sloped outward. She had a huge, curly thicket of black pubic hair that hid her vagina.

“What?” she clearly noticed how shocked I was and seemed uncertain why I stood there with a stunned expression. “I guess you didn’t keep up with your I must increase my bust exercises?” she joked as she tossed my Judy Blume book on the bed. She clearly had remembered that part.

There wasn’t a single book in Harley’s room. There were posters of Shaun and David Cassidy everywhere lining the walls. I recognized the Bay City Rollers and a few other pictures she had ripped out of magazines and taped to the walls. The faux-wood paneling in the room was almost completely covered in pictures of teen idols, particularly around her bed.

“I like an audience when I tickle my taco,” Harley snickered with pride as I admired her decorations. I didn’t get that reference, and she explained that she liked to pretend that the guys in the posters were watching as she played with herself.

I covered my mouth because of how brazenly she just admitted she played with herself to me.

“Oh my god, Tish. Everybody does it and if they say they don’t then they are lying,” she harumphed over my outrage. I had never heard that expression before, but it rang partially true.

“Not everybody,” I challenged her and told her it was hard for me to imagine my PARENTS doing something that I was taught was sinful and naughty though.

“I am sure your dad gets his own rocks off when your mom is on the rag,” Harley plopped down on the bed without putting on her clothes. Her tits bounced as she landed on the bed and the springs made a funny sound. “My dad has a bunch of porno mags in his bathroom. I doubt he reads those for the articles,” she emulated her hand stroking an invisible cock.

Harley’s bed was a single. I hadn’t realized how small it was until I saw her laying in it. I had come in last night and curled up with her in the dark.

“Are we going to have to share this bed?” I asked as I tried to look away from her curvy, well-developed body.

“Let’s get something straight,” she said. “There are a ton of boys and a few GROWN MEN that would pay money to share a bed with me.”

I should also say that the attitude at the time about older men and younger women wasn’t like it is now a days. At that age, I assumed older men wouldn’t have any interest in silly young girls like Harley and me. However, high school girls that dated older men (college age or older) were considered very mature and extremely sexually active.

I didn’t doubt Harley could interest older men with that body of hers. She was almost a full grown woman and barely 14 years old.

“We share a bed, but I am not a lezzie or anything like that, so keep your dirty fingers to yourself. If you feel like playing with your own flaps you can do it but don’t keep me up with a bunch of...” my cousin put her finger to her pussy and made a sound like “frush-a-frush-frush” kind of like a finger being inserted in and out of lime green Jell-O.

“I would never,” I promised her that I’d not even consider something like that.

“Oh, you are still a goody-two-shoes, aren’t you?” she asked.

“No,” I denied it. I probably was though by any definition.

“You don’t drink. Do you smoke weed?”

MARIJUANA? Never. The look on my face of total horror at the very question told her that I didn’t.

“Well this is Laurel Montana and it’s boring as hell out here, so we do a little of both. My brothers have a garden of weed that my parents don’t know about,” she reached under her bed and fished out a wooden cigar box. Inside, the box was a baggie of dried marijuana, a wooden pipe, and a lighter.

“If you tell on me, there WILL be hell to pay,” she immediately started packing a bowl. I know this because she told me that was what it was called when she put the marijuana into the pipe to smoke it.

I felt like she was testing me – to see if I would freak out and immediately tell her mother. I told her that it was “Cool” and she could do what she wanted.

“Don’t be a total corn flake, Okay? Come and hit this,” she inhaled deeply. Her tits seemed to get so big as she held her breath and offered me the pipe with the lighter. I was convinced from some of the propaganda that I had heard about “Hippy Culture” that one draw of “Whacky Tobacky” as I had heard it called, would create permanent brain damage.

However, the fact that my cousin seemed reasonably intelligent made me question that. I also wanted her approval. I sat on the edge of the bed and inhaled. My first ‘toke’ was horrible. I coughed and couched while Harley laughed at me until I nearly fell off the bed.

“You better not be doing anything in there, girls,” I heard my Aunt knock on the door.

“We aren’t doing anything, Mom,” Harley’s tone was sugary-innocent as she denied what we were doing to her mother.

My cousin’s nipples became erect almost instantly when she told a lie. I have to admit that I admired the way that her fat tits rolled around a little as she moved around naked. It was totally normal to Harley but I couldn’t wait to have big tits one day. It seemed like she took them for granted – but what amazing toys they must be to play with.