Chapter 27
Trust
Mom and Dad soon followed, opening my bedroom door and took a seat on the bed. They apologized to me again, that they were only looking out for my best interests, that they just wanted me to know that I could control myself when it came to girls and have me or them going too far. It still didn't make me feel any better. So, I asked about Shawn if he really was sexually abused by his grandfather.
Dad said. "So, she told you that did she?"
I said. "Yes, because I was afraid if she licked my butt that I too would be just like Shawn," Dad said that wasn't going to happen. That's why they wanted to show me and my brothers up front. What we can do, and can't do with them, or a girl of our choice. So, I said. "Then it's ok that Mom and or my sisters do it or the girls we choose to be with."
Mom laughed, patting my butt, and said. "Son, the only reason we didn't show you that was because of what Shawn did to his brothers and his friends."
Mom wiped a small spot where the chocolate was still on me and tasted it. She told me she'd run me a bath to help make me feel better. Dad stroked me softly, but I told him I wasn't in the mood. I could see the disappointment in his eyes but understood and told me when I am ready he and I would do it together. I nodded. That it would be fine.
Mom ran me a bath and washed me to make sure I got all the sundaes topping off me. She asked me if I wanted her to stimulate me. I shook my head no and told her I just wanted to soak and relax a bit. Mom left me alone and closed the door. I waited a few minutes and started stimulating myself on my own. I soon stopped and realized it wasn't as fun or the same as it was with someone else doing it for me. And got out of the tub and went downstairs.
Once again, I was shocked to see Mr. Rock-water lying on the couch with Jared between his legs and Dad on the other couch with Rock-water's oldest son Jared's age doing the same thing and Mom and Mrs. Rock-water sharing Jason and their youngest son on the counter. Everywhere I looked everyone was stimulating each other while my baby brother was coloring in his coloring books.
He looked at me. I knew what he wanted. I shook my head no, telling him maybe later. I could see the disappointment on his face, but at the moment I didn't feel good about it. Dad looked up at me. Seeing my arousal, he only said. "Not as good doing it alone is it, son?" I shook my head no. I told him I was going for a walk, walked out the front door, unhooked Sparky, and took a nice long stroll to think about my life and wonder if this was what I wanted.
It's hard to say how long I sat watching the lake as Sparky chased birds, having more fun than I was. All I could hear were the words. "This is wrong, I shouldn't be here, I shouldn't be stimulating my brothers, I shouldn't be stimulating my parents, and most of all I shouldn't be with any girl sharing my affection when they don't trust me not to go too far." I gave a weak smile when Mr. Rock-water took a seat next to me. He once again apologized to me. I shrugged my shoulders facing the water; he knew I was still upset, but in a way, it was his fault. He placed his arms around my shoulders and asked me what was on my mind. I told him I felt uncomfortable watching everyone share their affection.
He only asked one question, his voice laced with curiosity. "Do you like girls or do you like boys, or both?" At first, I thought he was joking, but the solemnity in his gaze made me reconsider. Sitting on the beach, I felt the temperature rise, the hot air contrasting with the soothing sound of waves lapping against the shore, provoking contemplation of his words.
The scent of uncertainty hung in the air. Confusion washed over me, mingling with a flicker of intrigue. For a brief moment, I questioned my own preferences, my mind tangled in a web of thoughts. But then, the image of Shawn, Danny, and Arthur flashed before my eyes, and a wave of repulsion crashed over me, making my stomach churn. I desperately needed answers, but Jeff, the only person who could provide them, was nowhere to be found. Frustration gnawed at my insides, intensified by the fact that I was thousands of miles away from home. Doubts clouded my mind, threatening to overshadow the joy I had been experiencing during my time here.
When I said nothing, he said. "Let me ask you this question. When you are with my daughters. How do you feel? Because I know for a fact, that you are not gay but conflicted because you never knew what your parents were doing all this time. And if you were gay, you wouldn't get excited when a girl touches you anywhere on your body. I have seen the difference believe me, and I wish I hadn't. In fact, I still get uncomfortable when my boys stimulate other boys, ever since your Dad and I walked in on Shawn and his grandfather and two other boys having sex. That's right, sex, plain and simple."
I told him I liked girls a lot; he laughed, laying back a little exposing his arousal. I tried to look away, but it was a hard thing to do.
I poured my heart out to him, feeling a mix of nerves and relief. I could hear the distant sound of birds chirping in the trees, a calming backdrop to our conversation. As I spoke, my voice trembled slightly, the words escaping my lips in a rush. I could feel the weight of my emotions, like a heavy burden, slowly lifting off my chest. His eyes, gentle and attentive, never left mine as I bared my soul. The air around me felt heavy with vulnerability, yet strangely comforting. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm and measured. He gently summarized my feelings, pointing out that my perspective was influenced by sexual ideals. I nodded, acknowledging that this was indeed how I had perceived things.
He took my chin and had me look into his eyes and said. "Just being naked doesn't mean all we want is sex or to stimulate each other. Being a nudist is more than that. It places a greater responsibility on us, it requires trust, and it requires us to see beyond the nudity. Sure, being stimulated is great and all that, and having sex when you are married is good, too. But being a nudist is all about trust. You trust that person will not lie to you.
"We open our hearts, not our bodies, but our souls. Clothing is like a mask you hide behind. You don't know what that person is feeling inside; they are not willing to show their true feelings or share their affection. They crave the sexual side, not the love or respect for each other. Like those boys that tried to rape that girl only they wanted was sex. Let me ask you this when you look at me and not my arousal. What do you see?"
I gave it a hard, long thought and looked at him, and not at his arousal. I said. "I see a father that loves his children. I see a man that is willing to give me respect. I feel that you trust me, but only because I would not sleep with your daughters and wouldn't have sex. But when it comes to stimulating your sons and my brothers and my Dad, I feel that you are raping them. I know they gave you permission, and you gave yours, but I feel that it is wrong. Yet when I did it with Dad and my brothers, I felt love. I felt they respected me, and they trusted me. I like girls, I like your daughters, I like it a lot when they stimulate me, and I enjoy stimulating them. Yet I was conflicted because of Shawn and what he did. That when I stimulate my brothers and my Dad, I feel like I am becoming like Shawn."
He kissed me on the forehead and said. "Trust is a two-way street. I will be frank. We trusted you last night, and we trusted you this afternoon. The question is and is the most important thing, was that you should have taken away was. Did you trust yourself not to go too far when my daughters offered it to you freely? Not because you promised your parents, but because you trusted yourself not to."
He watched me ponder the question: did I trust myself not to do it or did I do it because I promised and feared if I did, I would be punished severely? "The reason you are not and will not become like Shawn or his friends is that he doesn't trust himself not to go too far. He doesn't respect himself or others. He wants to hurt and destroy what he can't have because he can't trust himself to stop when it is in his power to do so. I tell you that because you trust yourself, you will never sexually abuse your brothers, your friends, your family, or any girl you are with.
"If you are worried about the world and how they will think about you because of this experience, when you are stimulating people you love, then you carry a heavy burden. The only thing you should worry about is you … because the world doesn't care about you the way you think it would. The world does not provide love, family, or give you respect. Only people can, only the people that you trust, and they trust you. Yet you must trust yourself first.
"There is also another reason why my daughters and family needed to trust you. The reason is we gave this trust to other boys we thought were boys we could trust around our daughters and family. Fiona was raped by several boys three years ago, but not to the extent, as Jody was. My family and daughters are quite protective of her because of that and needed to know without a doubt we could trust you. So, I apologize for having them do that, but you understand that it was necessary as a father and parent and friend."
I nodded, and that I understood. He then asked me if I trusted him enough to share his affection with me, now that I understood it wasn't based on sex, but based on love and respect for each other. I dug deep inside me, wondering if I should, yet I still felt Shawn's influence on my mind. Yet he trusted me enough with his daughters. He trusted me to be with his family and allow them to show me how much they loved me. He knew my life; he knew my fears; he knew me … the real me, not some stranger. In some ways, he gave me my answers. I nodded that it would be ok. He smiled.
I reached over and stroked him softly just enough to let him know I had truly given my permission. People think, well boys and men think you have to do it hard and fast. Yet I have found that it's better to take your time. There is no reason to hurry when you do not fear you are doing something wrong, and your parents will punish you for it.
If they are honest with you, they will tell you they themselves do it. If they say they don't, they are lying. I have seen Mom and Dad have sex; I have seen them stimulate each other; I have seen and let them stimulate me and my brothers. With them there are no lies, there is no reason to hide because of it. They only show me love and affection, there is no sex, and there is only respect and trust. He let me climb between his legs. I took my time as he shared his love and affection. He told me he was close and asked if I wanted to back out. I stopped and kissed him on the lips and said. "I trust you, and I love you for who you are." Placing his hand on mine so we could do it together, moving himself in a position like Dad showed me.
I continued pleasuring him orally. As he reciprocated, the intensity heightened my awareness that I was really enjoying this experience. Just as our Mom and Dad interrupted, announcing that dinner was ready. We had barely finished when they found us. In that moment, the voices in my head ceased their disapproval. Instead, they whispered that it wasn't wrong to share such intimacy with those I deeply cared for and trusted, and who trusted me in return. However, one lingering question remained: did I have an attraction to both sexes? Not in a gay way, but the idea held a certain allure. I was on the verge of asking, but then he hesitated and changed my mind. Mom and Dad hugged and kissed me on the head. I said I was sorry for the way I behaved, and I loved them and thanked them for trusting me enough to come here and find myself and repair the gap that was between us and said. "I am not Shawn and will never be, for I trust myself not to go too far."
They hugged me and walked me back with their arms around me. I called Sparky, and we went home, knowing at last I had my answers. I was just conflicted regarding what was right and what was wrong based on the world, not the people in it and not the people in my life. It didn't matter anymore who people were. It didn't matter if they were naked; it was what was inside that counted most.
When I arrived at our cabin, another care package was waiting for me. Inside was a long white robe made of silk. I was instructed not to bathe, but to come dressed in it and nothing else. It also said that dinner would be provided when I got there. I knew the rules about family home evening; Dad told me my date was more important. That all they were going to do was play games. Mom helped me put on the robe and pushed me out the door. As I was walking, Nora and Isza passed me, warning me to be gentle, and giggled. I opened the door finding scented candles and rose petals lighting my way to the table, which was a Japanese table on the floor with pillows on each side and more candles. Something I had only seen in movies.
Fiona was dressed in an identical robe to mine; she kissed me and opened my robe to see I had followed instructions and closed it back up and told me to take a seat on the couch so she could bathe my feet. I did what I asked and let her. The water felt warm and silky and had a nice flowery fragrance I was unfamiliar with. She told me in some customs that when a man enters his house that it is the woman's job to bathe a man's feet. She giggled, telling me she read that somewhere. When she was done, she kissed them and walked me over to the pillows, and had me lie sideways rather than sit up.
I had to admit that this was a lot different from her sisters'. I didn't ask questions and let her do whatever she wanted. I noted that we had the entire house to ourselves. That alone told me that her parents trusted me enough to be alone with her. I tried not to think about what had happened to her. She came back with some type of watery soup. She placed two bowls on the table with some sort of flatbread. There was no silverware but one pair of chopsticks. I cringed, knowing I had never been good with those, and felt embarrassed about it. She turned on some oriental music and brought over a tray with a silver dome and teakettle; I wasn't fond of tea, well, not of Mom's herbal tea because it always gave me the runs, or I had to pee a lot.
She took her spot next to me. I glimpsed a naked breast having her close up the robe so I couldn't see it. It made me feel like a pervert, but she did not indicate that I had insulted her. She giggled, noticing my arousal trying to sneak out. I quickly locked it away and focused on her. My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, well except my ice cream sundae.
She giggled. "Dinner is coming my yummy little spider." She poured me some tea and handed it to me on a small plate. I started to cringe, but it was nice. It tasted like beef broth with something tangy that I couldn't place. I sipped it because it was hot and set it down too cool.
She asked me if I liked it. I said I did and reached up to kiss her, having her slap my hands away, telling me to be patient. Then she told me she was going to feed me now. Man, I was hungry, and it wasn't just for food. I watched her break the bread and dipped into the watery soup, having me open my mouth. I took a quick bite, noting the bread was chewy but very good with the watery soup.
I did the same for her and tried to pull her closer. This time she let me share the bread and the soup together with a kiss. She slapped me, telling me she hadn't given me permission; it wasn't hard, and I felt embarrassed. She patted my cheek where she slapped, telling me I would get my chance, but to be a good little spider. I was confused because she kissed me when I came over, and the fact we had kissed numerous times before.
She saw the confusion on my face and kissed me on the forehead, telling me it was her game and her rules, no kissing, no touching, or our game ends. I quickly apologized and told her I would be a good boy. She smiled and kissed me on the cheek, accepting my apology. She dipped the bread again and fed me, allowing me to do the same for her. When that course was done, she opened the dome and saw a large bowl of noodles and vegetables in it. It smelled wonderful.
This time she picked up the chopsticks and swirled the noodles into a small ball and had me open my mouth while she placed a small plate under my chin so I wouldn't spill it over myself. When it was my turn, she laughed and quickly kissed me on the cheek and worked my fingers, showing me how to use them. After the second try, she got up and got a fork, tisking "What I am going to do with you my yummy spider." Handing me the fork so I could feed her, I was still hungry by the time we finished the meal.
She told me to follow her leaving the living room and followed the rose's petals and candles up to the stairs and towards the bathroom, finding more candles and another tray of food and more tea and more rose petals inside the tub. I watched her stick her toe into the water, swirling around the rose petals, and turned on more hot water, filling it up the rest of the way before she turned it off.
She then undid my robe, letting it fall to the ground, and gave me her permission to do the same. Telling me I was now allowed to have my way with her, but she wanted to bathe me first. She helped me step into the tub, laying me against it. She kissed me this time allowing a full kiss, and reached down and stroked me. She frowned at me and said. "We must take care of that first my little yummy spider." She had me lie back on the floor and came up between me. I grinned, thinking at last.
Having her slide up to my lips and nibble on my earlobes telling me she prefers it soft, not hard. I was confused because she said nothing regarding that. In fact, none of her sisters said anything. All she told me was that we could play longer if it was soft. I said. "Ok, I am willing and able to do it any way you want my little Japanese flower," curious to see what the difference is. She quickly bathed it, making it nice and silky smooth. I had learned why we bathe so much. It was because it was to keep us free from disease and infections from stimulating each other. Make sense I thought, letting Mom give us more vitamins to prevent that from happening.
She asked me if I trusted her. I nodded I did or I wouldn't give her my permission, then quickly stated no sex, or I was leaving. She smiled and said that's why she liked it soft, so there was no way that could happen. Again, that made perfect sense. No pointer, no intrusion. She reached over and grabbed a razor and some shaving cream, the same things Mom uses on us when she grooms us.
I laid still as I could and let her groom me, telling me she shaves her Dads all the time so I shouldn't worry about her nicking me. Even though that didn't make me feel any better, I simply trusted her. She took her time and did my underarms as well and when done she returned the items to the tray and washed my crotch and penis, making sure she got between my legs. When she was satisfied, she focused on my penis, stroking it until it was nice and hard or harder than it was.
I moaned as she did it, feeling her place it into her mouth and give me the best oral stimulation I have ever had. I noticed right away the difference between a girl doing it or my brothers and Dad or Mr. Rock-water. It was even different when Mom did it. All I could say is if you never had someone do it, you are missing out and will know the difference between them. When I told her I was close, she just kept going, only stopping long enough to stroke it and tell me she wanted it all before she and I could play. I gave her no complaints and closed my eyes, letting her have her way with me.