The Box - 8. Chapter 8

October 15, 1941

What the fuck is wrong with my relatives? The Cramptons are so fucked up it’s a little scary. My uncle Jack is this dominant business type unless my grandfather is around, then he turns into a doormat. My cousin Jim is an asshole. Nothing more to add there. JP’s a cute little kid, but I don’t see how he’s going to turn out normal living up there. And then there’s my aunt. She’s beautiful, a Fifth Avenue Able-Grable, and a slut. So once again, even though I haven’t picked this diary up in a couple of months, I find this is the only place I have to go to express myself. I wish it could talk back to me sometimes and tell me what to do, how to feel, but it can’t. I’m on my own.

My aunt started tutoring Aaron and me, teaching us French. We took it in school, but that wasn’t really enough to get the language down. So she offered to help us out. My mom thought that was a great idea, since all cultured young men are supposed to know French. That was at the beginning of September. So every Wednesday after school, I’d come home, eat a quick snack, and we’d go up to their house and she’d teach us how to speak French. We were getting pretty good too, good enough that we could practice with each other. It was pretty nice of her to do that for us, I thought.

Today was pretty much the same thing, only I was going to meet Aaron up there. He finally got enough cash together to get a car. It’s not much, but it runs and gets him around. It’s an old Dodge Coupe. I think he got a Dodge so he’d be able to work on it, since Randolph has a whole bunch of Chrysler tools at our house. Aaron has been spending more time than ever at our place, but most of it’s been out in the garage working on his car. I’m no mechanic, so I did my homework while he did that.

Today I got held up at school so I didn’t get to go home first. Instead, I just headed straight up to my aunt’s house. I saw Aaron’s car out back, and it kind of surprised me that he beat me up there. He usually gets there a little later than I do. I didn’t really think anything of it. I walked into their house and expected to find Vella in the kitchen, but no one was home. Then I went into the living room, where we usually worked on our studies, and didn’t find them there either.

Their house is this big, sprawling ranch style house. I didn’t want to wander into the wing that had their master bedroom, so I went to the other side with JP’s room, Jim’s room, and the guest room. Jim and JP weren’t home either. When I got to the guest room, I heard voices. I opened the door and there was Aaron on the bed, fucking my aunt.

I should have left, run away, but I was too stunned to move. He was on top of her, fucking her, and she was giving him instructions. Telling him how to fuck her, how to move, like it was some class. She was really into it. Then she made him pull out and started showing him how to play with her pussy, where to put his fingers. I just stood there like an idiot. Then he got her so excited she pulled him back on top of her and he really started to bone her. It was about that time that she looked sideways and saw me. She let out a little scream, and I think Aaron thought she was just enjoying it. But then he followed her eyes and they both stared at me.

I didn’t know what to do so I just gently closed the door and ran out of the house as fast as I could. I mean I tore through the house. It’s at times like this when I’m really glad I have the Packard 8. I just ripped down here. No way anyone could catch me. I remembered to calm myself before I went in the house, which was a good thing, since my mom was there.

She told me that Marie, my aunt, had called to cancel our French lessons for the day. I just started laughing at her, I couldn’t help it, and she gave me this weird look. I managed to extract myself from that situation and came up here.

I’m trying to figure out how I feel about this. My aunt is cheating on my uncle. Do I care? Not really. I don’t know if I blame her. After that deal with my car, and how he basically told us all to fuck off, and cut the rug out from under her, I could see why she’d be frustrated enough to do it. When I look at my uncle, I see Jim. And I don’t like Jim. But why does she have to pick my best friend? He’s only 16, like me. That’s pretty weird.

That was the big problem. My feelings for him had gotten stronger and stronger. All of our fucking around had just made me love him more. So it was kind of like she was with my man. Maybe I should have kicked her ass? Ha. That was pretty funny. Only it wasn’t. It was like he was cheating on me, only he wasn’t.

I bet normal guys don’t have to deal with stuff like this. They have girlfriends, they go out hoofing, they snatch a feel when they’re making out, and eventually they score. Not me. I have a girlfriend that I do all that with, all except the score part, but that’s not enough for me. No, I have to have a guy I fuck around with too. Getting off with him isn’t enough either; I have to go and fall in love with him. And then the guy I fuck around with is fucking other members of my family. This is like a really bad romance novel.

     //    

I’m back again. There was a knock at my door, and I knew it had to be Aaron. What a bunch of shit. So he comes over all upset, starts apologizing and groveling. He told me that my fucking aunt seduced him. He made it sound like she was plotting to do it, like she had it all planned out. He said he didn’t know I wasn’t going to be there, so he went up to our tutoring session as usual.

According to him, she started telling him that French was the language of love, and that she could teach him about that as well. Then he told me that she kissed him, led him to the guest room, and they fucked. Only they didn’t just fuck. He told me that she explained how her body worked, how a woman’s body responded to sex. I already knew about that little nub, and that was evidently a big deal. He told me that if you put your finger up her pussy and hook it up, back toward her stomach, there’s a spot that will drive her wild. Kind of like a man’s prostate does for him. So he rambled on and on, talking about this like it was some kind of class, making it sound all sterile. I didn’t say anything; I just let him go, let him spill his guts. He does that sometimes, he’ll just babble on and on, usually when he’s nervous or upset. He finally stopped talking and looked at me, waiting for a response.

“You fucked my aunt,” I said simply.

“I know. I’m really sorry Steve. I should have stopped her, but I was horny, and I was curious,” he’d said, his eyes pleading with me to forgive him. I knew I’d forgive him, I had to. I loved him too much to end my relationship with him. But there was something else he wasn’t telling me.

“What?” I asked him. He looked at me curiously. “What else?”

He seemed to get that I knew him well enough that I knew he was hiding something. I saw him struggle with it; really fighting to bring what was buried deep inside and lay it on the table. “I’m a shitty lay.”

I saw the look on his face, the look of total defeat. “No you’re not,” I’d told him. “My own personal experience is that you’re an amazing lover.”

“With you, but not with Allison.” I saw tears in his eyes and I leaned toward him to wipe them away, but he pushed me back. And then I got it. This was about him being queer, or thinking he was. He liked to fuck around with me and he was good at it. But when he was with Allison, he wasn’t as into it, and he wasn’t as good.

“So you were hoping my aunt could show you how to do a better job?” I asked. He nodded. “Do you think it worked?”

“A little,” he said, but there were tears pouring down his face. He looked at me, and then got up to leave. I grabbed his arm and pulled him back down onto the bed. I expected him to fight me, but he didn’t. I pulled him to me, and just held him while he cried and cried. He didn’t say he was queer, but he knew he was, and I knew he was. I also knew that it would be a miracle if he didn’t end up blaming me for it. He pulled away from me and looked at me. The pain in his eyes was killing me. “I like Allison, she’s swell and all, but she just doesn’t do it for me.”

“Who does?” I asked. I shouldn’t have, shouldn’t have probed like that. It came out before I could stop it.

If he struggled before, he really struggled now. He looked at me, and it seemed as if he was trying to figure out if he could trust me or not. “You,” he said softly.

I stared at him, trying not to smile but I couldn’t stop it. I felt my face break into a big smile, a big grin. I couldn’t control it; I was too busy trying to figure out how to handle this, how to handle him so he didn’t end up hating me. In the end, I went for hormones. I moved in and kissed him. His lips didn’t respond at first, but then they did. He pushed me onto my back and flipped me over, then pulled my pants down. I heard his zipper, then felt some Vaseline on my ass, followed by his big dick, as he pushed into me. I knew he had to fuck me, that he would be way to vulnerable to let me fuck him right now, and that was just fine with me. Feeling him inside me, working so beautifully, so smoothly to maximize our pleasure, was heaven. His lips were next to my ear, telling me how good I felt, how much he loved fucking me, and his words just charged me up. I felt my load building, and then I blasted all over my bed. I felt him tense up and shoot in me, his load starting just as mine ended. It was wonderful, because I was done and really sensitive, so I felt every pulse of his cock, every spurt of his cum. I’d never felt so close to him. He pulled out of me and got up, then helped me clean up the cum on my bed. Then we lay back down, with him on his back and me sprawled on top of him. I had my arm crooked, propping up my head so I could look at him.

“You still mad at me?” he asked me.

“You think if you fuck me that I’ll forgive you that easily?” I asked with a smile, to let him know I was teasing.

He smiled back. “I’m hoping I’m better at sex with you than with Allison.”

“All I know is that you make me feel things I never thought were possible,” I told him. He looked at me intently and pulled me in for a kiss. He sensed there was more, just as I had sensed that with him, and his eyes demanded that I bare my soul just like he did.

“What?” he asked, just like I’d asked him.

I struggled, fought with myself, fought against common sense, fought against all that was important to me. “I love you,” I told him.

His eyes registered the shock of that, but instead of dealing with it, he tried to play it off. “I love you too. You’re my best friend.” I buried my head in his neck, trying to stop the tears when I couldn’t. I felt so betrayed. I’d built up my courage, bared my soul to him, and he’d just played it off like it was nothing. There was a knock on my door and that scared the shit out of me, enough so that I jumped up and out of the bed. Aaron sat straight up.

“Come in,” I said, pissed. The door opened and Billy was there, with JP behind him.

“Mom said to tell you dinner was almost ready,” he said, then he turned and left.

“I gotta go,” Aaron said.

“You can stay for dinner,” I said.

“Nah, I need to get home. I’ll see you tomorrow, OK?”

“OK,” I told him. He walked out of my room, and I just collapsed on the bed and put my head in my hands. I couldn’t stop the tears.

I became aware that there was someone else in the room, and I looked up to see JP standing there nervously, holding a tissue out. I took it and smiled at him. “Thanks, JP.”

He smiled back. “Are you OK?” I felt his small, soft hand on my arm, such a touch of kindness.

“I am,” I said. “Thanks for the tissue.” He had another one with him, and he leaned up and wiped the tears off my cheeks, being very careful and very methodical. He was adorable. When he gets older, I may fuck him. If my aunt can do my best friend, I can do JP.

October 17, 1941

After all the drama of Wednesday, yesterday was just like normal. I went to school, came home, and Aaron came over a little later on. I fucked his brains out, and then he went out to work on his car. He stayed for dinner, we came upstairs afterward, and it was his turn to fuck me, then he went home. Only I feel so stupid. I feel fucking ridiculous. I can’t believe I told him that I loved him. I can’t believe he ignored it, ignored what I said. I always listened to him. He could tell me anything, and I would be there for him. Yet when I opened up to him, he just left me hanging.

Today at school I went through all the motions, did what I was supposed to do, but I felt hollow. Aaron seemed to sense my mood, and his response was to avoid me, not like he’d done when he’d hated me, but to avoid letting me bring him down too. Finally at lunch, he cornered me. “Are you alright?”

I’d looked at him, wanting to tell him that I wasn’t alright. I wanted to tell him that I was in love with him and it was agony to know he didn’t feel the same way. But I wasn’t going to do that. I’d already trusted him once with my feelings and he’d stomped on them. There was no second chance when it came to that. “I’m feeling kind of sick,” I’d lied.

“Go home,” he said. “You’ve only got English and History left. I’ll take notes for you.”

“You coming over later?” I asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” he said, giving me his trademark smile. So I just left, walked right out of school, hopped in my car, and went home. When I drove up to our house, I saw a familiar car, my aunt’s Oldsmobile. What was she doing here? Did she come over here to fuck me too?

I walked in to the breezeway in back and kicked off my shoes, then walked quietly into the house. I didn’t want my mom to know that I was home sick, because then she might make me miss the big football game tomorrow night. I figured that if I could sneak up stairs, she’d be too preoccupied to notice, and then I could just tell her I got home at the normal time. When you walk into the kitchen, there’s like a small passageway. If you go straight ahead, you go into the kitchen. To the right is a door that opens up to reveal the back stairs. I opened the door slowly, about to go up, when I heard voices. My mom and my aunt were having a chat in the kitchen.

I know it’s wrong to eavesdrop, but I was too curious not to listen to their conversation. I moved my body so it was flush against the wall, and moved close to the edge so I could hear them clearly.

“How is Steven doing?” I heard my aunt ask.

“He seems to be fine,” Mom said. “Why?”

“I just feel so bad about how Jim and Jack handled that whole thing with his car. I was so mad at both of them, both for how they handled it, and for not listening to me at all,” she said, frustrated. Her accent was so cool, so intoxicating. Maybe she’d let me fuck her too.

“The men in our family don’t listen to women unless they have to,” Mom said. “Now you know why my mother is like she is.”

“Yet you did not turn into a woman like her?” she asked.

“No, thank God,” Mom said. “I can’t be that cold, that unfeeling. My mother got her way by being even colder than my father, and that takes some doing.”

My aunt laughed. “I imagine it would. Yet here you are, a vivacious woman, so strong, so attractive.” Attractive? What was she talking about?

“Thank you,” Mom said, only she sounded really uncomfortable.

“I enjoyed our time together,” my aunt said seductively.

“So did I,” Mom said, and if she was nervous before, she was near panic now.

“There are things I did not get to show you. Perhaps you would like to try again?” my aunt asked.

“It was wonderful, and I enjoyed it, but Barry and I have worked things through, and I’m so happy with him now. I can’t do anything to risk that. I can’t cheat on him again,” she said. What the fuck? Cheat on him? Then I got it. The woman my mom had been with was my aunt. I felt all kinds of emotions, but the predominant one right now was pride that my mom was being strong and said “no.” I decided that I should help her out a bit. I snuck back out into the breezeway and opened up the door loudly so they could hear it, then went tromping into the kitchen.

“You’re home early,” Mom said to me, looking guilty.

“I was feeling kind of bad, so I left early. Aaron is taking notes for me,” I said. I turned to my aunt and forced a smile. “Hi Aunt Marie,” I said in French.

She put her game face on and smiled at me. “Hello Steven. It is good to see you.”

“Good to see you too,” I told her. Switching to English I continued, “I’m going to go upstairs and lie down.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Mom asked, worried.

“I’ll be fine, Mom. Don’t worry about me,” I said.

“Well, I have to go pick up Billy and JP, take them to their gym class, so I’ll be gone for a few hours. I’ll check on you when I get back,” she said.

“Fine,” I said, and said goodbye to both of them. I went upstairs and collapsed on my bed, flat on my back, thinking about my fucked-up family. I was about to doze off when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” I said. I figured that it was my mom, with some other detail she’d forgotten. I was wrong. It was my aunt. I sat up nervously.

“I hope I am not bothering you,” she said.

“No,” I said, my nervousness showing.

“I wanted to talk to you about Wednesday,” she said. “You must think I’m a horrible person.”

“I don’t think that at all,” I told her. “I think if I were married to Uncle Jack, I’d do that too.”

“He is a good man, do not think too badly of him,” she said, wasting her breath. “Sometimes he frustrates me, and I have to find a way to vent that frustration.” She sat on the bed next to me. She looked so beautiful, with her full skirt riding up enough to show off her calves. I felt my dick starting to rise; the damn thing had a mind of its own.

“Aaron and I talked about it,” I told her. “He said you really helped him out.”

“And how did I do that?” she asked. I saw her eyes drop to my groin, then back up to meet mine.

“You taught him how to satisfy a woman,” I told her. “How’s a guy supposed to know how to do that unless someone shows him?”

“It is a learned art,” she said with a sexy smile.

“If anything, I’m jealous,” I said, knowing that I shouldn’t.

“You would like to learn too?” she asked me, her voice sultry now. I just nodded. She stood up and took off her dress, so she was standing in front of me in her underwear, and damn was that attractive. I jumped up and damn near ripped off my clothes, making her giggle. “You are a very attractive man,” she said.

“Thanks,” I stammered lamely. But then her lips were on mine, and she was a smooth kisser. I noticed that Aaron was actually better than her, but I didn’t know if that was because it was him or because he was a male. Then she started to give me a tour of her body.

She showed me how to lick and suck on her nipples, how to knead her breasts so it felt good. I thought about how I’d done it before, and how clumsy I must have seemed to Barbie and Kim. Then she took my hand and led it down to her pussy. She seemed surprised when I moved my face down too. I wanted to see what I was doing. She showed me that nub that Kim and Barbie liked me to play with, and told me how to use my fingers. Then she guided my fingers inside her; she was so wet I slid in effortlessly. She told me where to move them, and showed me where that special spot was that was like a man’s prostate.

I must have been doing this right, because she was moaning and writhing now, but I wasn’t done yet. I wanted her to show me more, how to use my mouth. I moved my face close and flicked my tongue across her nub. She moaned loudly at that. “Oh yes!” She talked me through that too, telling and showing me how to use my tongue. I thought I’d gotten Kim and Barbie worked up, but they were nothing like her. I pushed my finger back inside of her and played with her spot while I licked her nub, and that seemed to be the ultimate. But my hormones had finally caught up with me, and I needed to fuck her. I pulled my mouth away and wiped it on my arm, then lay on top of her, lining my dick up with her. I couldn’t believe I was actually going to get to fuck a woman.

I pushed in and felt her warm, wet, cavern envelop me. She moaned loudly and arched her back. I kissed her neck, her ear, and then her mouth as I began to thrust in and out of her. She guided me even then, coaching me, showing me how to thrust, how to regulate my speed, but I was too excited to go on. I felt my load building. “I’m going to cum,” I said into her ear urgently, and then I exploded. I blasted into her, my first fuck, my first orgasm inside a woman. Damn was that fun.

After I was done, she seemed to collect herself, and there was real tension in the air. We both hurriedly got dressed and I walked her downstairs.

“I am sorry Steven. I should not have done that. I am a horrible person,” she said, tears in her eyes. My heart went out to her, this woman stuck in an unsatisfying marriage that had given me such an education, and been so nice to me.

I pulled her to me forcefully and gave her a strong kiss, being the man that I probably wasn’t. “Don’t be sorry. It was wonderful. Thank you very much.”

She shook her head, not believing me, so I put my fingers on her chin and pulled her face up to look at me. “Really. I’ve been so worried that when I finally got a chance to be with a woman, I’d do it all wrong. Now I feel confident. Now I know what to do. That is such a gift.” I gave her another quick kiss. She smiled, patted my face, and then turned and left.

I came back up here to write all this down so I could make heads and tails out of it. It really was amazing, and I meant what I said to her. When I go out with Barbie tomorrow night, I’ll be able to show her how good I can make her feel. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll let me go further. If she does, I’ll be able to really reward her efforts.

And that’s not the only thing. There’s a lot of satisfaction in knowing that I fucked Jim’s mom. The guy may be my cousin, but he’s a total asshole. Somehow, that’s like the ultimate poke in the eye.

Only she was the one that was with my mom. Somehow I’d forgotten all about that. My mom and I had fucked around with the same woman, eaten the same pussy, and it was someone we were related to by marriage. That really was twisted. I’m glad, really glad, this diary has such a secure lock on it, because by anyone’s standards, that’s fucked up.

Aaron came over later on and fucked me. Somehow, fucking my aunt had helped clear my mind, and erase all the bullshit with him. We went out for a while, came back here, and I led him up to my room. I undressed him and pushed him onto his back, making sure to explore every crevice of his body with my mouth and my fingers. Then I rolled him over onto his side and moved up behind him, talking to him the whole time, telling him how exciting he was. I lubed my dick up and pushed in, telling him how good he felt, and how much I enjoyed being inside him. I couldn’t help but contrast fucking him with fucking my aunt. He’s tighter, and so much more fun than she was. With her, it was fun and educational. With him, it’s love, pure and simple. After I fucked him, we lay there panting, and he grinned at me.

“You’re in a much better mood tonight than you were today,” he said.

“Yep,” I answered. He looked at me, waiting for more info, waiting for me to expand, but I didn’t. I’d trusted him with my emotions and he’d spit on them. From now on, with him, I had to keep at least a small wall up.

July 5, 1999

I stopped reading and looked over at JP. He was sitting straight up, looking completely rigid, his eyes blank and staring forward. Anyone who knew him well, like both Brad and I did, would see the agony in his eyes. He had always been a momma’s boy and had always had a special relationship with her despite the challenges they’d faced. Brian’s appearance had forced JP to divulge to his family that he wasn’t a true Crampton, that his mother’s slutty ways had led her into a tryst with Bill Hendrickson, his real father. But only I knew about the rest, about her affair with André, JP’s first love and Ace’s father.

“This is bringing out some pretty intense things,” Brad said sympathetically. “Maybe finding this diary wasn’t such a good thing.”

“Ignorance is not bliss,” snapped JP. We just stared at him for a minute. “I’m sorry Bradley. I did not mean to take out my issues on you.”

“That’s OK,” he said, smiling broadly. “It was funny to hear Steve talk about Aaron and how he did that babbling thing. Robbie does that too. I’m glad you’re going to win that bet with him.”

“I certainly hope so, otherwise our trip to Paris will not be so enjoyable,” I observed. I looked hard at Brad, asking him with my eyes to give us some time alone, and he picked up on it.

“I’m going to go check on Robbie. Don’t go on without me,” he said, and left. I moved over and sat next to JP and put my arm around him.

“We had this big cleansing discussion,” he said. “I confronted her about my real father, and she confessed about André. She swore he was the only one she’d cheated on my father with.”

“Not everyone is as open about being a slut as I am,” I teased, making him smile slightly. “I do not think it is reasonable for you to expect her to give you a litany of her sexual partners over the years.”

“I didn’t ask her to. I just asked her about André, and she said he was the only one, when evidently he was not,” he said bitterly. “Not only that, she fucked her nephew, his best friend, and her sister-in-law. This is starting to feel like a Jerry Springer episode.”

“Jerry! Jerry!” I chanted, making him laugh. “JP, you are letting this eat at you, when none of these people is here to defend themselves. So allow me to play devil’s advocate, and to try and speak for them.”

“Stefan, Speaker for the Sluts,” he joked. I rolled my eyes at him playfully.

“That is correct. Someone must speak for those of us who are promiscuous and so maligned,” I told him. “I think that your mother must have felt very alone and isolated. Everything she had was tied up in your father, and he treated her with disregard. How do you think she felt after that whole episode with Jim’s car?”

“What do you mean?”

“The way she spoke to Steven, she had obviously been irritated with Jim. She had probably tried to punish him, or at least make him see the light, but your father overruled and undermined her. How frustrating must that have been for her: To see your brother turning into such an asshole and not being able to do anything about it.”

“So she slept with two 16-year-old boys, one of whom was her nephew?” he asked callously.

“Pardon me for pointing out the hypocrisy in that statement,” I said, irritated.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

“It seems to me that you fucked me when I was 16, and I am your cousin,” I pointed out. “And we both were with Armand, who was young as well. Let us not throw rocks through our own glass walls.”

He glared at me, and then softened. “Why does it seem so much worse that she did it?”

“Because she was your mother, and because she was a woman,” I said matter-of-factly.

“You are calling me a sexist?” he snapped.

“Are you?” I asked calmly, and it irritated him that I was all calm and he was showing his emotions.

“I don’t think so, but perhaps there is room for improvement,” he said resignedly.

“You do not have to be perfect. I love you just the way you are,” I told him, and gave him a loving kiss.