Sibling Discoveries Ch 01

Author's Note

This story contains themes of incest. It is loosely based on events I experienced in the 1980s - things which I continue to benefit from today [and probably explains my sexually twisted nature]. Naturally, the names and some of the circumstances have been changed or altered for the sake of creativity and a sense of anonymity, while the Dallas area and businesses in that vicinity are factual. I hope you enjoy as we go back to a time of Ronald Reagan and the Cold War, Michael Jackson as the King of Pop, Yuppies, AIDS, and MTV! But first...

Prologue

The room was empty except for two sisters, seated together in the front row staring straight ahead at the coffin that contained their mother's body. Bobby took a deep breath, exhaled, then walked ahead to greet his siblings.

When they saw him, his stepsisters smiled and rose to meet him. While they had all been so close when they were younger, time and age had inevitably separated them in many ways. Yet, the connections they had made back then were strong ones, unique ones, and they knew nothing would ever permanently break the bonds of affection they each felt toward the other.

The older of his stepsisters, Sarah, embraced him in a tight squeeze, "Oh, Bobby..." Even at 55 years old she was a stunning specimen of beauty with straight, dark brown hair that hung just below her shoulders. A few streaks of grey had materialized since last he had seen her. Her eyes were also a deep brown, radiating warmth as well as an inner splendor coupled with a devious and mischievous nature.

He hugged her against his frame and tried to soothe her as best he could, "I know. I'm so sorry. At least she is out of pain now." Bobby let his hands caress Sarah's back in comfort as he whiffed the sweet, familiar fragrance of her body. "How are Brad and the kids?"

Sarah had married for the second time ten years ago and her new husband came with two boys, making an instant mother out of her, something she never quite took a liking to - similar to her own mother. "They're all fine. At home, of course. None of them had any desire to come and I can't say I blame them. Mom wasn't the most accepting or likable person was she?" They exchanged pained smiles while nodding their heads to acknowledge the obvious. "What about Diane?"

"Hmm...same, and for the same reasons," he answered with a huff and a smirk. Bobby, also 55 years old, had married his wife Diane thirty years prior and found it stunning, if not completely unbelievable, that they were still together. The passion had gone out of his marriage years before and he was all but certain his wife had been cheating on him for the past several years.

When they released, it was his younger stepsister's turn. "Hello, Ella. I'm so very sorry." She was 51 years old and possessed an equally alluring beauty, even at the half-century mark, although she was always more reserved and shy than her older sister. Ella stood a few inches taller than Sarah, and her cropped hair was the shade of caramel that matched wonderfully with her piercing green eyes.

"Thank you, Bobby," she answered, and reached out to take him in her arms to receive the same heart-felt consolation, which gave her some measure of relief and solace. Being in his arms always did that for her. "Chrissy sends her love."

Chrissy was Ella's partner, and had been ever since Ella's own brief marriage had failed years ago when she had married the only boyfriend she ever had right out of college. Unfortunately, their mother never approved of Ella's new lifestyle and, he assumed, Chrissy chose to absent herself from the immediate occasion like every other extended family member. It was the course of action Chrissy - and all the rest of them - had grown accustomed to over the years.

Bobby went to kneel in front of the casket to say a prayer as the other two resumed their seated vigil. As he knelt in front of the only person he had ever really known as mother, Bobby tried to keep his thoughts positive and offered up a genuine prayer for her spirit. When he felt satisfied, he whispered, "Amen," then joined his stepsisters to wait for the expected crowd of mourners who would dutifully file past them with expressions of sorrow and hollow words of condolence. None of them were looking forward to the next several hours.

As he sat in silence with his stepsisters, Bobby realized it was becoming increasingly hard to remember their childhood together. The older he got, the more distant the memories of the past became. Maybe that was a good thing. Then, unconsciously, a long-forgotten melody accompanied by a distinctive baritone voice came back to him from the deepest recesses of his mind and he spoke out loud, "Like sands through the hour glass, so are the days of our lives."

Seated next to him, his stepsisters grinned broadly, immediately recognizing that as the opening to

The Days of Our Lives

, a soap opera their mother used to watch religiously every afternoon while they were in school. Many times in their youth the three siblings remarked that their mother cared more about what happened in the fictional town of Salem, with the equally fictitious Horton family, than she cared about any of them. They still thought that was true.

Sarah chuckled, "Oh my God, Bobby. Whatever made you think of that?"

"I have absolutely no idea," he answered honestly, shaking his head and chuckling to himself. But his mind now accelerated into overdrive, taking him back - deep into the past - reflections he was powerless from stopping.

I

It was March of 1985, on a night like any other. Ronald Reagan was in his second term of office - it was Morning in America. Yet, the country was still in the throes of a Cold War with the Soviet Union. The AIDS epidemic was a growing national concern. Both of those issues - one domestic and one international - created a latent sense of anxiety in the country, especially with respect to AIDS as there was just so much that was still unknown about it at the time.

This unknown entity regarding AIDS had a profound impact on the sexual activity - and sexual promiscuity - of teenagers back then. The hallmark of any teenager's maturity - the lifeblood of an adolescent's experience during a very important and formative time - was hampered by a disease nobody seemed to understand. As a result, adolescents in the mid-80s were less sexually active and, even worse, less willing to take any unnecessary risks concerning sex than any group of kids in history. To put it bluntly, AIDS scared people shitless, especially teenagers, as it was even suspected at the time that you could get it just from swapping saliva during a kiss.

It wasn't as though sex didn't exist because of course it did. It was an ever-present topic of conversation and curiosity for teens, and there certainly were those who participated it in. Still - by and large - kids were anxious and, as a result, very cautious.

Consequently, despite Bobby and Sarah both being 18 years old and seniors at Highland Park High School in suburban Dallas, they were each supremely naïve in the ways of sex. Their relative sexual knowledge at this point in their lives was minimal at best - reserved for quiet conversations with their friends or the occasional titty magazine that made its way into Bobby's hands, usually courtesy of one of his friends after they were done with it.

As Bobby lay on his bed, he listened to the increasing volume of an argument his parents were having downstairs. It seemed that's all they ever did anymore, day or night. He stopped caring long ago why they were arguing or what they were arguing about. Bobby just wanted them to stop. He wanted the shouting and yelling, the name-calling and insults, to just melt away and disappear.

Bobby's real mother had passed away ten years previously, when he had been only eight, and for a few years he and his father were on their own. It hadn't been perfect but, up to that point, those had been the best years of his life. Memories of his real mom were growing fainter now and he came to the realization that she had already been gone for over half of his short life.

But, it was during nights like this that he missed his mother the most. He couldn't remember if his real mom and dad had ever fought. He had no recollection of that, but he sincerely doubted they had ever had an argument like the one he was listening to now. It was as if his dad and stepmom actually hated one another and, as he lay on his bed waiting for the shouting to end, Bobby wondered why the hell they had ever married in the first place.

Along with a new mother came two new sisters, and the only thing they had ever done was annoy the shit out of him since the day they all moved in together six years ago. The oldest was Sarah, who by sheer coincidence was only separated in age from Bobby by forty-three days. She had just turned eighteen the previous month and her only interest at home was bothering him about stupid shit or hogging the bathroom. Then there was Ella who was fourteen. For the most part Bobby liked her, except when she barged into his room without permission, which seemed to be happening more and more lately.

To the outside world, the Peterson family was the absolute quintessence of perfection. In reality, they were anything but that. It always made Bobby mad when they went to church and people would talk about how wonderful his parent were, and what a blessed home they must have. All bullshit - complete and utter bullshit. But his parents exceled in deception and keeping up appearances. In Highland Park, that was an absolute necessity of life. He wished the people from church could hear what was happening inside their house this night. It would probably shock some of them to death.

The only place in the entire house that was completely Bobby's was his room. It was a spacious bedroom located on the second floor and down the hall to the right. His parent's room took up one side of the upstairs while the three kids shared the other half, along with a gigantic bathroom that was a battleground every morning as they prepared for school.

As he grew older, Bobby had become extremely protective of this space as well as his privacy, especially the last few years when his penis became his best friend. This bedroom was his own personal, private haven.

There was a momentary lull in shouting from downstairs, and Bobby picked his head up off the pillow hoping that maybe his parents had gotten tired of fighting and decided to call it a night. Then, all too quickly, the yelling commenced again. In a fit of anger himself, Bobby pounded on the bedroom wall with all his might. As his bed was conveniently positioned right next to the wall, the booming sound he made reverberated loudly around the house.

Momentarily startled, an eerie silence descended as his parents stopped arguing - caught mid-sentence between insults. In that brief interlude, Bobby heard his father coming up the stairs and approaching his room. The bedroom door opened and his father's head poked in.

"Was that you that banged? Everything ok?" his father asked rather casually, as if nothing out of the ordinary was taking place that night.

Angry and irritable, and with more than a hint of sarcasm, Bobby sat straight up in his bed and shouted, "No Dad, I'm not alright! Can y'all just shut up! I'm sick and tired of the fighting. Every night. All night. Jesus Christ, just get divorced already!"

A look of shock registered on his father's face, followed by one of shame. He opened his mouth to speak - stood there for a second or two, then decided against it. He looked at his son apologetically, though to his son he appeared pathetic and weak. As he turned and shut the door, Bobby slammed his head down on the pillow and faced the wall he had just banged so effectively.

Mercifully, the fighting that night ended and Bobby took some small measure of comfort in knowing he had stopped it. However, he also realized this was simply a minor truce in a larger war that undoubtedly would continue tomorrow or the next day or the day after that. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and, thankfully, fell asleep rather quickly.

In the bedroom across the hall lay Sarah and Ella. They had also been lying awake listening to the ensuing argument between their mother and stepdad, and heard their brother's angry outcry as well.

They loved their mom without question, but they had also come to love their stepdad who generously spoiled each of them. Their real father left one night when they were both very little and had never come home, so they did not know him and had no desire to. Their stepdad adopted them soon after he married their mother and, for all practical purposes, he had become the only real father the girls had ever known. They hated the loud arguments their parents often had but felt there was nothing they could do about it, hoping instead that everything would simply work out in time.

As the next few days passed, a lull was established between the two mature adults in the household and that brief respite, although pleasant, only created a false sense of security and fake atmosphere. Everyone walked on eggshells not wanting to upset anyone else, and the siblings privately wondered when the ceasefire would end.

In the meantime, when he wasn't attending school Bobby chose to spend most of his time at home in his room, isolated and away from nearly everyone. He was in no mood to put up with any of them. The selfish and stuck up students he knew in high school were carbon copies of the adults in their neighborhood. They would soon go off to college, but then run back to Highland Park just as fast as they could to become the newest and most updated version of their parents. The apple never fell far from the tree in Highland Park. It was a cesspool of pretentiousness and his parents were simply one example - more concerned about their status in town and what the neighbors thought than anything else.

Ella would pop her head into his room from time to time just to say hello, which Bobby appreciated and tried his hardest to be patient and polite. He didn't want to take his anger out on her. It wasn't her fault and she didn't deserve to be anybody's scapegoat. Sarah was another issue as they never seemed to talk unless it was through sarcasm or being mean to each other.

One afternoon when he returned home from school, Bobby went into the bathroom he shared with his stepsisters and began his favorite activity - masturbating. He had inadvertently glanced down the front of Angela Simpson's shirt during class when he stood over her desk, and the image of her nice plump breasts, covered by her white cotton bra, was seared in his memory.

In addition and not surprising, he thoroughly enjoyed the sensation of his hard cock in his hand as he pumped it back and forth while sitting on top of the toilet seat. Nothing compared to the feeling of jerking off and Bobby thought it was quite possible he could play with himself all day if ever given the chance.

As he continued to tug and pull at his stiff member, Sarah unexpectedly walked into the bathroom and stopped abruptly as she spied her stepbrother with his hand around his dick. The sudden intake of her breath, combined with the door opening, caught Bobby by surprise and he slouched over to cover himself.

Sarah opened her mouth to speak but could only manage, "Uh...I..."

"Get the fuck out of here!" Bobby screamed, and Sarah stammered a quick apology before turning and shutting the door behind her.

Bobby remained in his covered position for several minutes before deciding to get up and lock the door, something he had evidently neglected to do.

What the fuck was I thinking

, he thought?

I was thinking about Angela's tits, that's what

, he answered himself. But his penis was already shrinking down to its normal size and any desire he had to pleasure himself was gone.

"Fucking asshole," he said to an empty bathroom. Pulling up his pants, Bobby washed his hands, unlocked the bathroom door and walked out into the hallway hoping he could make it to his room without seeing Sarah. Thankfully, he got down the hall and into his room without incident - then flopped on his bed.

That very same night, for reasons known only to his parents, the arguing started again. Bobby couldn't believe some of the things they were saying to each other. It was as if his parents didn't know one another; like they were two complete strangers who happened to find themselves married to each other by accident.

Then, three nights later, shit really started to hit the fan.

As Bobby lay on his bed, headphones covering his ears as he listened to the stereo, something crashed very loudly down in the living room. Quickly pulling off the headset, Bobby sat up straight in bed to await whatever came next. After an extended pause there was more yelling and cursing and, shortly thereafter, another spectacular smashing noise emanated from below as something flew against the living room wall.

Holy shit

, he thought,

someone is really going to get hurt

.

Just as he was about to get out of bed, deciding he had no choice but to intervene in his parent's messy business once again, his door opened and Ella hurried inside. Shutting his door quietly, she scrambled over to stand by the side of his bed. She was crying uncontrollably and shaking pretty badly. Bobby didn't really know what to do but he had to do something to calm her down. Rising to sit on the edge of his bed, he brought Ella into his arms, hating his parents with a renewed intensity he hadn't known he possessed.

As his arms wrapped around his stepsister, he could feel her shivering. Warm tears dribbled onto his bare shoulder. Bobby rubbed her back and managed to say the only thing he could think of, "It'll be alright Ella." But, would it? How hollow those words sounded to him.

Yet the fighting downstairs continued. His parents seemed oblivious to how their arguing might be affecting the rest of the family. The shouting and cursing and insults hurled back and forth between them, like a tennis ball being volleyed between two opposing players at Wimbledon. Ella nestled snuggly inside her big brother's arms and he held her tightly, trying his best to make her feel safe and secure.

After a few minutes, Bobby's door opened again and this time Sarah walked in. "Oh good," she exhaled loudly in obvious relief before shutting the door. "I was hoping you came in here. I really didn't want to have to walk downstairs to find you." Clearly she was talking about Ella, who remained buried inside her big brother's tight hug. She tilted her head sideways to look over at her sister.

Renewed anger intensified inside Bobby. "God damn those two!"

"Yeah," Sarah agreed. This may have been the first time she had ever agreed with Bobby about anything. "I don't know what they have to always argue about." She walked over to where Bobby was sitting on his bed holding Ella and plopped down beside him. "I hate them."

Startled, Ella pushed herself away from Bobby, "Don't say that!"

"Why not?" Sarah answered sharply. "They deserve it." She crossed her arms and huffed, decidedly making her point.

"I know," Ella responded meekly, then added, "Just don't say it, okay?"

For a time the three of them stayed where they were, unsure what to do next and waiting to see if the battle was over. Thankfully, nothing else crashed or shattered that night but the damage had already been done. While the yelling had minimized, the discussion downstairs was still going strong and seemed poised to escalate at any moment.

Finally, Ella spoke up and asked a question she had only ever asked Bobby twice before, each during a rather horrific thunderstorm. "Can I sleep in your bed tonight?"