I guess that it's hypocritical of me to criticize the family relationship of others when my family life growing up was bizarre, but the Jenkins sisters were, and still are, just plain weird. Before I explain about the Jenkins sisters let me (Scott Davis) relate my situation with my peculiar family exercises.
I was too young to realize that my parents were swingers until my tenth birthday party. Jim and Pam Johnson, who lived three houses down on the same block, were friends of my parents and they had a son Jeremy my age. I didn't really care much for Jeremy but I was forced to include him when I had other kids over and my parents were around, therefore he was at my party - along with Jim and Pam.
All the kids were playing in the backyard doing various party things, supervised by my 15-year-old sister Jen and Sue, her friend of like age, who were the greatest girls that I and my friends had ever met. Jen was my favorite person in the world, all of my friends had little boy crushes on her, and I had a little boy crush on Sue. At the same time my parents, Jim, and Pam were in the house getting lunch, cake, and ice cream ready. I ducked into the kitchen for a glass of juice when I saw Jim standing behind my mother kissing her neck and with his hands massaging her boobs while she giggled. I may have only been ten, but I knew that that wasn't right. Shocked all I could think of was to tell my dad.
Without being seen by mom I ducked into the living room looking for my dad. I saw him - in profile - kissing Pam on the lips while their arms were interlocked. Shocked once more, I stumbled back into the yard and tried to act normal while participating in games. My sister Jen could tell that something was wrong, but didn't ask what was up in front of the other kids.
My birthday was ruined. I was on autopilot for the rest of the afternoon. I tried to gin up some enthusiasm when my guests sang Happy Birthday to me, and when I opened my presents, but I'm sure that I gave a poor performance of a happy birthday boy.
Even before the last guest left I went to my room and cried. I was so confused, angry, hurt, and shocked it was like my emotions were on a roller coaster that was also going around in circles at sixty rpm.
Jen came into my room just as I was getting my emotions somewhat back under control and had wiped what I hoped would be the last tear from my cheeks. "What's wrong Scott?" she tenderly asked. "It's supposed to be a fun day for you - not one for crying."
I told her what I saw. Unfortunately, no surprise registered on her face. "I'm sorry that you had to see that," she genuinely replied. "I guess that there's no reason to hide it any longer. Mom and dad are swingers."
I had no fucking clue what "swingers" were - I never saw them on any playground equipment - so seeing my blank stare Jen explained it to me the best that she could considering my age and naivety. When she was done I didn't feel one iota better - perhaps even worse. While Jen didn't like it she had come to accept it; I could not, and after that day my relationships with both of my parents was strained.
There is some question whether people are born with a certain moral compass or whether they develop one growing up. I can answer that question for myself. What my parents did so offended me in later years I realized that I was simply "born" different than they were, and for a time questioned whether or not I was adopted especially since I ultimately grew to be six feet four inches tall and 220 pounds even though both my parents were of slight build and much shorter. My dad was five-ten, 160 pounds, and my mother five feet five, 115. When I was fourteen I did find my birth certificate when I rifled through my mom's papers when she was out, and it looked legit. Also my facial features and coloring were similar to both my parents so I concluded that I was their biological child, just a mutation when it came to both size and moral compass.
According to one supposedly scientific study - at least the one most recognized by psychologists - the divorce rate among swingers is over 90%. My parents were no exception; they apparently made it work until I was twelve when I heard the yelling in their bedroom in the middle of the night that my father wanted out of that lifestyle and my mother wouldn't agree. Shortly after that, when I was twelve and Jen seventeen, they divorced. I would have preferred to live with my father in view of his changed position, but I had no say in it. I stayed away from the house as much as possible, playing sports, learning martial arts, or studying at a library. That turned out well for me because I became an excellent baseball player, a brown belt in Brazilian jiu-jitsu, and made the high honor roll in High School.
In the state that I lived in, when a child turned fourteen years old he/she could ask the court to have the custodial parent changed. Shortly after my fourteenth birthday when I caught my mother with the third different guy coming out of her bedroom when I came home from school I called her a slut and a whore. Her lover tried to be a big man and intervene. By that time I already weighed 180 pounds - about the same that he did - but he didn't have my anger or knowledge of jiu-jitsu. After he pushed me he ended up needing my mother's help to get to his car. When she returned she reamed me out but I didn't back down at all. The mother of one of my friends was a well-known attorney and I went to see her that same evening. By the end of the next week, I was living with my father and had little contact with my mother after that.
My father and I got along OK. When I was sixteen we had a heart-to-heart talk where I told him how disgusted I had been by his morals. We had an uneasy truce after that until I graduated High School and left town three days after that.
So, now about the Jenkins sisters.
I met Brenda Jenkins when we were both eighteen. By that time she was an avid drinker and partier. Brenda's father Jack and stepmother Michele had apparently either given up trying to discipline her or never even tried. Michele was only six years older than Brenda was. Brenda's mother had died when she was eight and her father remarried when she was fourteen (yeah, he married Michele when she was only twenty years old); Michele had a meek personality and was more like a friend to Brenda and her younger sister Brie than a parent; Jack just didn't seem to care.
Brenda was well known for using guys to go to parties with or get her booze, and then dumping them as quickly as she met them. Her favorite pastime seemed to be skinny-dipping during any party at a nearby lake, or even at backyard pools. There were even stories - with enough backup information so that I believed them - that two guys even falsely admitted to petty theft and joy riding that Brenda had actually perpetrated so as to endear themselves to her. She probably thanked each of them with a blow job - not proven but believed - and then dumped them - that part true. She was probably able to get away with her antics only because she was a fox - and physically mature for her age. She was the most hetero teenage guys' wet dream.
For some reason, Brenda took a liking to me. I actually think that it was because I came across her and one of her dates - both drunk - on a side street in town one evening. From their yelling, it appears that after she had emotionally abused the guy he started to get rough with her. I'm normally the type to mind my own business, but when I saw him push her to the ground and then raise his fist I had to intervene. The guy was supposedly some big man on a campus football player who outweighed me by forty pounds but given the fact that he was drunk and I had a brown belt in Brazilian jiu-jitsu he really, really, got the worst of it. I called Brenda's stepmom Michele and related the situation to her. That was the first time I met Michele - when she came to pick Brenda up while she was still in a drunken stupor. Stepmom Michele was apologetic and very grateful. I called 911 to have someone pick up the unconscious football player but smartly left the scene before anyone arrived.
I honestly thought that Brenda's stepmom Michele was her older sister; she was cute, although somewhat overweight and without the best skin tone or musculature.
After a victorious home baseball game the next weekend - where I had my best day ever at the plate, going three for five with two doubles and a triple - Brenda came up to me in the parking lot. "You're Scott Davis, aren't you?" she asked.
"Uh...yeah," I deadpanned.
"I guess you know that I'm Brenda Jenkins since you called Michele to pick me up last weekend; I never got a chance to thank you for saving me from that cretin. Can I treat you to a beer?"
"Sorry, Brenda, but I don't drink, smoke weed, joyride, commit petty theft, go to wild parties, skinny-dip, or do any of the things that rumor has it you like to do, but thanks anyway," I replied with a smile as I lugged my bat bag into the trunk of my car.
Brenda chased after me. It was apparent that she had never been turned down by a guy before for anything. "Ok - so you're a straight arrow; I can still thank you, can't I? How about a milkshake at Thompson's ice cream shop?"
Did I mention that Brenda was any teenage guy's wet dream? That was when she was dressed in a skirt and blouse without makeup. In the short-shorts and tank top that she had on that day, and the perfectly applied lipstick and eye-liner, she was whatever there is beyond a wet dream - maybe a siren.
"Uh...OK," I replied, hoping that I hadn't pitched a pup tent. "Shall I meet you there?"
"Can I ride with you, and maybe you can take me home afterward?" she said/asked.
I had nothing better to do, so I agreed.
Against my better judgment - actually, I don't think that judgment was involved, just hormones -I started dating Brenda Jenkins. There is no roller coaster in the world with as many ups and downs, or thrills and terrors, as that relationship was; nor is there a word strong enough to describe how volatile her personality was. I dumped her three times for cause over the next year, but each time she somehow finagled her way back into my life, including by promising - and delivering on her promise - blow jobs, titty fucks, and finger fucks. I never buried my hog in her sweet pussy although I had the opportunity on several occasions; what held me back was the knowledge that she was such a succubus that she might find a way to intentionally get knocked up.
I graduated High School when both Brenda and I were nineteen. I found out much later that for whatever reason she was expecting a long-term relationship with me, probably because each time I dumped her she was able to worm her way back into my life. By then, however, I was thinking with my brain instead of my dick and I wanted nothing more to do with her and her mercurial personality. I had enlisted in the Army for three years. I was off to basic training three days after graduation without telling her, having either sold or put in storage everything that I owned. I heard that Brenda was one pissed-off viper when she found out.
Surprisingly, in the Army they sometimes place people in positions that they are well suited for - I know that's shocking (it certainly was to me), but in my case true. I had taken a number of tests - every time that I took one it seemed that after it was graded I was given another test. Based upon my test scores apparently, someone in authority recognized that I had a real aptitude for technology so after basic training they assigned me to the Corps of Engineers. They wanted me to extend my enlistment another year for that purpose, but even when I refused they stationed me with the Corps anyway.
After a year doing projects in Iraq my Corps outfit was transferred back to the States. I learned a ton working for the Corps, and when back in the States I was even able to take online engineering courses. By the time that my enlistment was up I was a pseudo-expert in devising hurricane and storm damage reduction infrastructure, and with the credits from the online courses I had taken when in the Corps after two years at a University I got my B. S. in Civil Engineering.
I had only been out of college, and in my new job in the city where I grew up, for about three months when at a backyard pool party I met Brie Jenkins, Brenda's younger sister. At that time I was 24 years old, she was 21. She seemed more level-headed than Brenda, and just as good looking. I immediately recognized a major difference when as the party was breaking up she was still sober and fully clothed - Brenda would have been drunk and skinny-dipping. Brie had come to the party with some female friends so I offered her a ride home. By the time that I dropped Brie off, I had a date with her for the next Saturday.
I dated Brie exclusively for the next several months. I heard from friends that she had been as wild as Brenda in her teens, but it seemed that she truly had matured. However, I found out that while she was definitely more "normal" than Brenda, she also was weird in her own way. She was weird in what she bought, what things she liked, and what things she did.
Some of the weird items that were part of her possessions were: She often wore "Ta-Ta Towels" as tops; they're provocative; you need at least a C cup to wear them, and they turn heads. She usually sleeps on her side and to prevent one boob from smashing the other she uses a specially designed "boob pillow." Despite the fact that barefoot she's five feet nine inches tall she almost always wears high heels and typically with "heel condoms" of different colors as a fashion statement. She has limited patience so she uses a "lipstick helper" mask to properly apply her lipstick quickly.
Things that she likes that I can never understand: Having me paint her toenails. Requiring me to watch, but not touch, as she braids her pubic hair (she doesn't have a jungle bush but it is significant and she is opposed to shaving). Constantly sniffing my neck and hair. Insisting that I give her oral only after we fuck (or make love, as the case may be), not beforehand.
Things that she does that are weird are: Constantly changing her hairstyle and color; in the first six months, we were dating she changed the style and/or color at least a dozen times. Taking butt selfies all of the time. Climbing trees, and if fruit or nut trees laughingly throwing projectiles at me when she's up there. Using a device called a "Kegelmaster" to do Kegel exercisers and talking about that for a half-hour if you let her. She loves to exercise and has a few normal routines, like jogging and light weight lifting, but her favorites are weird: naked yoga (THAT I don't mind), Jukari (utilizing a trapeze-like apparatus that allows participants to swing, fly, spin, jump and, most importantly, tone the body), and water-walking (utilizing a human-sized transparent hamster ball to motor across relatively calm bodies of water).
In addition to all of the weirdness described above, her and my relationships with Brenda are also bizarre. By the time that I met Brie, Brenda was married to Tom Postema (though Brenda kept her maiden name). Brie didn't tell Brenda about her relationship with me until we had been dating about three months because "Brenda still hates you for dumping her and enlisting in the Army to get away from her." Therefore it was with some apprehension that I showed for a family get-together at the Jenkins household when I knew that Brenda and Tom would be there.
When I got to the Jenkins party Brie introduced me to Tom; "Scott, this is Brenda's husband Tom; Tom, my boyfriend Scott." We shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. Tom was good looking, but with a preppy non-athletic appearance. "And of course you know Brenda," Brie said, pointing to her sister who had her arms crossed; Brenda looked just as good as she had when I enlisted in the Army, in fact better because she was more mature. "Hi Brenda," I said with a smile.
"You know that you're an asshole, don't you Scott?" she rhetorically asked. "The least you could have done is fuck me before you took off," she sneered, right in front of Tom.
What do you say to that? I just shrugged my shoulders and smiled.
"But now I can fuck you vicariously through Brie, so I forgive you," she snickered. Then she planted a vigorous kiss on my lips, trying to insert her tongue into my mouth, which I resisted.
Then we started talking about other subjects, just like her last statements and actions had never happened.
I saw Michelle again that night. It appeared that Michelle was still meek, and not treated well by Jack, and not particularly respected by her stepdaughters. She had also gained about ten pounds since I last saw her, but I still considered her attractive. I talked with Michelle quite a bit that night as Brie and Brenda were catching up with their cousins, aunts, and uncles. I even helped Michelle serve dinner, and clean up afterward.
For reasons not entirely clear to me from that night continuing onward I made a point of interacting with Michelle every chance that I got and I talked her into doing things for herself, including taking fitness classes and joining my health club. By the time that I had been dating Brie for ten months - and was almost ready to ask her to marry me - Brie, Michelle, and I worked out together an average of twice a week, and Michelle was looking, and feeling, better than at any time that I had known her and had more self-confidence. Brie did Jakuri on her own on Saturday mornings, and I went with her - sometimes including Michelle - once a month for water walking. I never tried it myself - I was too big for the transparent ball - but Michelle did and liked it.
When I was ready to ask Brie to marry me I resolved to have a heart-to-heart talk ahead of time. I suspected that Brenda and Tom might be swingers and I needed to set the record straight with Brie that I never even wanted to hear about anything like swinging or swapping if we did marry.
I took Brie to a four-star resort for a weekend. Sunday morning - after we had fucked each other's brains out Saturday - after brunch we sat on the shore of the beautiful little lake the resort was on. As I cuddled her I started out with some questions, and then subtly initiated a discussion.
"Brie - how to you feel about marriage?"
"I have nothing against the concept - why are you thinking of marrying someone Scott?" she replied with an impish grin.
"Well there's this exciting, sexy, smart, beautiful woman that I know who I might want to ask, but I really need her to know a few things that are deal-breakers in married life before I ask her. Do you think I should have a heart-to-heart talk before I propose?"
"I think you really should - if it was me, I'd want that talk."
"You see, I never talk about it, although you know that I have essentially no relationship with my mother and a strained one with my father, but I need to tell this wonderful woman why I don't and how that affects me going forward."
"We'll pretend that I'm this wonderful woman and try it out on me," Brie responded with an even more diabolical grin.
I related the situation with my family for a good five minutes. Then I said "I hate swinging and swapping with a passion, I would never even put up with discussing them if I were married, and I suspect that Brenda and Tom may be swingers which concerns me. I absolutely require monogamy if I marry, and I'd want the woman I asked to marry me to understand and agree to it."
Brie paused for a long while and then said "I understand your position, and if anyone ever was interested in marrying me I'd want the same thing and tell them so." This time her expression was pensive; I was the one with the diabolical smile