It was almost here, the day I'd been dreaming about since I was a little girl. I mean, what girl doesn't dream of being a bride? Even being a princess is secondary since what do most girls dream of but a royal WEDDING more so than being a princess day to day. As for me, it was the culmination of a lifetime of fanciful dreams, naughty fantasies and high expectations. I think I can honestly say that since Steve proposed to me just after last Thanksgiving that not a single waking hour has passed by that I haven't thought about my wedding for at least a moment.
To be sure, my wedding has been planned from start to end for at least fifteen or more years. That's not to say it's always been the same plan, but there was always one ready and waiting for when the right moment finally arrived. Over time it's varied from the most formal and traditional wedding in an old ornate church with hard wooden pews filled with friends and family to a small sailboat adrift in the Caribbean with just me, my fiance and the captain - and then about everything in between at one point or another. Even in the past year I've changed my mind so many times that I think Steve must have wondered what kind of crazy girl he asked to marry him! Wedded to a nymphomaniac was great but a schizophrenic one as well?
No matter what the final plan may have been, I was always pretty sure of a few things that tradition demanded... the white flowing wedding dress (none of this ivory or otherwise non- traditional crap), a large wedding party, NICE bridesmaid dresses (unlike those hideous obscenities that some girls force their best friends to wear), my father walking me down the aisle, and so on. I THOUGHT I was pretty well set on the location. After all, what better place than the church I grew up in and had so many fond memories? When I changed my mind about THAT at almost the last minute I thought I might have finally gone too far but I managed to sooth my frazzled father's feelings in a way only his daughter could. After griping about outdoor weddings for years, I guess I couldn't blame him for being put out when I suddenly announced that I wanted one too.
My wedding planner took it all in stride without even one comment about "bridezilla". Fortunately the country club where we were having the reception was very accommodating and it all worked out perfectly without too much fuss. Then there was a hurricane moving in and I knew everyone was saying I should have stuck with the indoor plans after all but it all worked out perfectly - just as I always knew it would.
So much for "old" traditions. There were also some new ones I wanted to establish. I guess technically doing something once doesn't establish a tradition but at least I would be setting the stage for future generations should they want to carry them on. At the same time I like to think that had my grandmother not been so prudish that my mother would have been the one to start some of these herself so in a way I was actually following her lead, even if she hadn't actually been able to do them herself.
As you may be figuring out already, I owe an awful lot to my mom when it comes to traditions. After all, she was the first generation in our family to engage in incest, at least the first one that I know about. She was the first to submit properly to her father, the first to continue on that obligation even after being married, the first to allow her husband the freedom to be with her family members so as to create a truly biblically-based family relationship. So I guess you could say that everything I've done so far has actually been in her footsteps.
People ask me all the time if I will have an incestual relationship with my kids someday. That's almost impossible to answer. Technically it's easy to say the answer is yes in that I would LIKE to have such a relationship. However, whether or not that will actually happen is a totally different matter. Still, if they SHOULD decide that it's what they want, then I would say three generations definitely qualifies as a tradition, don't you?
So now it was up to me. I was only going to get one shot at this so I had to make it count. That's where the planning comes in. Now it was time to put those plans into action...
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Those who know me know that I first met Steve back in the summer before I became a freshman in college. His sister Sharon was one of my best friends at the time and we always sat near each other in class and at lunch and about every other time for that matter. Steve's younger brother Jim was always a pain in our necks back then. Admittedly some of it was our fault as we use to tease him mercilessly. Once I even let him fuck me but it was just so I could tease him all the more afterwards. It was at a summer camping party with Sharon and friends that I first drew the attention of her older brother. To my total surprise he called me later and asked me out. The rest as they say, is history.
Just so people understand, while I did let Jim do me once, it was more out of spite than lust so it wasn't like I was doing both brothers or anything kinky like that. I say kinky because at that age it would have been that as I never even thought about the word incest, let alone engaged in the practice, so there was never any real thoughts of Sharon joining in, even though she DID have a huge crush on her older brother.
From the start Steve was the one I was in interested in, not his bratty younger brother. As for me and Sharon, like most girls we had our sleepovers and played silly games like Truth or Dare that inevitably got a little carried away. And just as most girls learning to deal with their budding sexuality, we masturbated at times together but we never went so far as to touch one another. Even the most risque dares only went as far as kissing and the only touching was us touching ourselves. It was an age where being a lesbian was something "bad" girls did - or at least girls that couldn't get boys to do them
Another question I get asked a lot is whether or not there is any incest in Steve's family. The answer is a qualified NO. What I mean by that is for all intents and purposes there has never been nothing like that. Interestingly, as I mentioned earlier Sharon had a major crush on her older brother. Alas, unfortunately for her the feelings weren't mutual. She use to get SO jealous when we would get together and I would tell her about what I did with her brother! I have to admit that I may have embellished things a bit in the telling once I learned how much it turned her on to hear about us. Between her and my mom, I guess you could say that is where I got my start telling erotic stories about my sexual experiences. The only difference is that with them it was verbal whereas today it's all written down. I have to say it's a LOT easy to do it verbally.
The qualifier is based upon an isolated incident that happened once and only once so far as I know. Steve's mom once caught Steve fucking me in their house. Long story short (as in VERY short), he fucked her too before it was all said and done. Marlene's job was transferred and so they moved away shortly after that. They've both sworn on a stack of bibles that nothing like that EVER happened again. Given their reluctance to discuss it even after all these years and the obvious discomfort it brings them when I mention anything about the topic, I tend to believe them.
When Steve and his mom moved back to Pittsburgh last summer, Sharon and Jim stayed behind in California. From what Steve told me, they both had established jobs, friends and such so they had no real reason to move back. For Steve's mom, it was another promotion and a resulting job transfer so she had little choice, especially in today's job market. If your employer tells you to move, you move. It so happened that Steve had just finished his paramedic training and didn't have many prospects in California so he decided to move back with his mom when he learned the city was hiring paramedics. Even though he was twenty five at the time, they decided to live together to save money in a small house - separate bedrooms of course.
While Steve and his mother don't practice incest, they ARE very close, perhaps TOO close by some people's standards but then who is anyone to judge them? They enjoy cuddling and kissing each other - and I mean on the mouth with tongues. They even fondle one another in ways that would make some people blush or even gasp but everything is always over their clothes. I've never seen them naked together and Steve swears that they aren't when I'm not there either. To them, it's just a mother and son being close to one another, nothing sexual or even lustful. In fact, they both seemed quite offended one time when I implied otherwise. One thing that I found a bit disconcerting at first when I started dating Steve again was having his mother watch us when we had sex at his house. It was sort of like back when I was in school and my own mother would watch my dad fuck me. Unlike my mother, Marlene never masturbates or even touches herself while she watches. Also unlike my mother, she never says a word so over time I've become accustomed to her presence to the point I hardly even know she's in the room these days. ONE time I made a suggestion that maybe she would like to join in but trust me, I'll never make THAT mistake again. Let's just say she wasn't too pleased by the suggestion and leave it at that...
When we announced our engagement, Sharon and Jim both promised they would fly back for the wedding but I didn't have any idea how that was going to work out. As it turned out, Jim came in earlier than I was told such that he was a surprise ending to my bachelorette party. Unlike that one time over twelve years ago, I have to say this time when he fucked me we both enjoyed it immensely. In fact, I was already revising my rehearsal dinner plans and even thinking about how he might fit into the reception schedule after we were done!
Sharon wasn't due to fly in until just before the rehearsal so I wouldn't be seeing her until the last minute. While we had talked on the phone a few times, it had been a long time since we'd been friends so most of it was just reminiscing about the good old days. How things would go when she arrived would be anybody's guess.
