

                           Meanwhile on the farm.....

       ...I  lie  on  my back, watching the swallows swoop and dive overhead.
  They  circle  the  rafters,  darting in and out through the open window and
  lancing across a dusty shaft of sunlight. It's late afternoon; soon the sun
  will  set  and  mom will be calling me for dinner. I think company's coming
  over  for  dinner,  though  I'm  not sure who. Probably some of my parents'
  friends, and I'll have to sit around all evening on my best behavior, bored
  as  hell.  I linger in the barn, hoping to postpone the inevitable. All the
  mystery  of  summer  is  encapsulated in this moment. Sweat trickles coolly
  down  my  back,  sticking  my  t-shirt to the moist skin underneath. I itch
  slightly  from the bits of hay that have crept under my clothes. The air is
  sweet  and  fragrant  from  the  soft  cushions  of new mown hay. I stretch
  luxuriously, wishing that I could stay here forever.

       The  door  opens,  squeaking  on its rusty hinges. I freeze, resenting
  this  intrusion  on  my private domain. Quietly, I creep to the edge of the
  loft  and peer downward through the swirling columns of dust. A lone figure
  leading  a  horse enters. At first my eyes, accustomed to the brightness by
  th0  window,  are  unable  to  make  out  any details in the dimness below.
  However,  as  the  intruder  unsaddles the horse and begins brushing him, I
  recognize  my  27  year old cousin, Brad. I am about to call out a cheerful
  greeting  to  him, when something in the furtiveness of his movements stops
  me.

       He  tends  to  the  horse quickly, glancing frequently at the door. As
  soon as he is finished, he leads the horse outside and releases it. After a
  quick,  nervous  look  around he scuttles back into the barn and closes the
  door.  I  watch  curiously  as  he sits down on a bale of hay, then pulls a
  magazine  out  of  his  shirt and begins to read. Why is he so secretive? I
  slither closer, trying to get a better look. I can barely make out anything
  from  this  distance,  but it is enough to answer my question. He's reading
  one  of  those dirty magazines, the kind with the naked lady pictures. He's
  also doing something very strange.

       His  face  is  all  scrunched  up, and at first I think he must have a
  stomach  ache or something. Then I notice that his shorts are unzipped, and
  his hand is down the front of them. His hand is moving very fast, and I can
  hear  him  grunting  and  moaning  in time with it. Curious, I try to creep
  closer,  but  a cloud of dust puffs up in my face. Unable to help myself, I
  sneeze loudly.

       Brad  freezes. "Who's there?" he calls hoarsely. He has such a comical
  expression on his face that I can't help giggling.

       "It's  just  me,"  I  call back. Relieved, he stuffs the magazine back
  into his shirt and clambers up the ladder to the loft.

       "Hi, kiddo!" he greets me cheerily. "Why didn't you say something when
  I  came  in?" He ruffles my hair casually, just like he always does. Today,
  this  irritates me. I've had a crush on Brad since I was six years old, but
  he's never taken me seriously.

       "Why  do you always hafta call me that?" I snap petulantly. "I'm not a
  baby  anymore! I'm a big girl now! See? I've even got tits!" Impulsively, I
  lift  my  t-shirt  to  show  off  my  small,  firm  breasts.  Brad chuckles
  appreciatively.

       "Yeah,  kidd  -  Jodi," he corrects himself, "You sure do. How old are
  you now, anyway?"

       "18teen !" I declare proudly.

       "Well!  Practically a grown woman!" He is teasing me. Angry, I wrestle
  him  to  the  hay strewn floor and begin tickling him. For a few minutes he
  tolerates  this,  laughing.  Suddenly  he  flips me over, and before I know
  what's  happened,  I'm  flat  on  my back and Brad's sitting on my chest. I
  stick  out  my  tongue  at him in mock anger, but I'm actually enjoying the
  attention  and  the  closeness.  I  try to keep a stern face, but something
  catches  my  eye  and  I  burst  into  uncontrollable  laughter. Brad looks
  confused  for  a  minute, then follows the direction of my gaze and flushes
  beet-red  when  he  sees  what I'm laughing at. He has forgotten to zip his
  shorts,  and  something soft and pink is peeking forlornly from between the
  zipper  teeth.  I've  never seen a boy blush before, and the sight makes me
  laugh even harder.

       Gritting his teeth, Brad quickly stands and closes his pants. He looks
  angry.  I  am  still sitting on the floor, gasping for breath. Finally, the
  alarming  color  begins  fading from his cheeks and ears. Anxious to change
  the  subject, I glance nervously around. The magazine has fallen out of his
  shirt  during  our  brief  scuffle, so I pick it up and begin flipping idly
  through the pages.

       The first part is sort of boring - letters mostly, and ads for a bunch
  of  strange looking stuff. This soon gives way to the pictures, though, and
  I  examine  them  with  interest.  Brad  hovers  beside me, looking over my
  shoulder. He still looks a little embarrassed.

       "So, what do you think?" he asks abruptly.

       "Well...  they're  a  little...intimidating..."  My  voice  trails off
  weakly.  He  gives  me an encouraging nod, so I continue. "I mean...look at
  those  bodies!  I  wish  I  looked  like  that..."  I sigh wistfully. "I'll
  probably never have great tits like those..."

       "Hey..."  Brad's  voice  is  warm and soothing. "There's nothing wrong
  with  small  tits.  I  think  yours are sorta cute..." As if to confirm his
  words,  I  feel  his  hand  slide  under  my  shirt.  His palm is rough and
  calloused  against my skin. His touch sparks strange tremors inside me, and
  I  shiver slightly as if from a sudden breeze. Slowly, he circles my nipple
  with  fingertips  that  seem  to trail fire behind them. My nipples stiffen
  almost  painfully  under his lazy caress. With his other hand, he turns the
  page.

       A  loud snorting sound interrupts us. Brad jumps up guiltily, stuffing
  the  magazine back under his shirt. "Relax," I whisper. "It's just Sinbad."
  I  lead  him  to the window, pointing out the familiar sight of Sinbad, our
  bull, mounting one of the cows. Today he has selected Margaret, a fat brown
  cow  who placidly ignores him. Sinbad's penis dangles grotesquely, all pink
  and  slimy  looking.  I  pick  up one of the rocks I keep by the window and
  throw it at him. He ignores it, as usual.

       There is a strange gleam in Brad's eye as he watches the rutting bull.
  His  arms slip around me, stroking my breasts through my t-shirt, and I see
  the  acts  before  me  with  new  eyes.  What  has  previously  been just a
  disgusting ritual assumes new meaning, and a strange thrill courses through
  me. A sudden thought strikes me, and I turn to Brad, eyes wide with wonder.

       "Is  your...  I  mean...  is  it... like... that?" I stammer, blushing
  furiously.

       A  grin  splits Brad's face. "You've never seen one before, have you?"
  he  asks.  I shake my head dumbly. His grin broadens. "Want to see mine?" I
  nod,  and he slips out of his shorts. His penis reminds me of a plump, pink
  sausage  as  it stands out from his body, seeming to defy gravity. "You can
  touch  it if you like..." he urges, so I reach out carefully and touch just
  the end of it. It is soft, slightly rubbery, and hot. I snatch my hand back
  guiltily.

       Brad  is  laughing  softly. "Here..." he urges, taking my hand in his.
  "You  hold  it  like  this." He gently curls my hand around his penis, then
  begins  moving  my hand slowly up and down his shaft. It feels almost as if
  it  is  alive,  the way it pulses under my fingers. The skin is very smooth
  and  soft,  radiating  a fierce heat. It swells at my touch, growing harder
  and  hotter  by  the moment. Brad isn't laughing anymore; instead, his eyes
  are  closed  in  fierce  concentration  and  his jaws are clenched. I touch
  something  slippery  and look down in confusion. A small bead of some clear
  liquid  is seeping slowly out of the tip. Brad moans softly, then opens his
  eyes and stares piercingly at me.

       "Do  you like that?" he asks gently. I hesitate a moment, unsure, then
  nod slowly. "Would you like to try something else that would really make me
  happy?"  I nod again, slower this time. He takes out the magazine again and
  flips  purposefully through the pages. "Here," he says, extending a picture
  toward me. "Think you could do that?"

       I  look  at the picture in bewilderment. It shows a man sitting on the
  edge of a bed, and a woman kneeling on the floor between his legs. They are
  both  naked, and she seems to have his... thing... in her mouth. My stomach
  lurches uncomfortably at the idea, but Brad is staring expectantly at me. I
  don't  want  him  to think of me as just a kid! Defiantly, I say, "Sure, I
  could  try  -  But  you'd  hafta  tell me what to do..." From the grin that
  spreads  slowly  across  his face, I know I've said what he wanted to hear.
  His  smile  causes  a  warm, bubbly feeling to creep through my stomach and
  chest.

       "Here..."  he  whispers,  gripping  my  shoulders gently. He pushes me
  slowly  down to my knees, so that his erect penis bobs directly in front of
  my  face. It even bounces off the end of my nose a couple times. I'm trying
  hard  not to giggle. "Now, open your mouth..." I do as he instructs, and he
  slowly  eases  himself  into  my  mouth.  The liquid at the tip is warm and
  salty,  not  at  all unpleasant to taste, though I'm not so sure I like its
  slimy  consistency.  He feels even bigger than he did when I held him in my
  hand. Hotter, too. I feel like I'll choke in another minute, but I'm trying
  not to. I don't think Brad would like that. "Close your mouth now, and suck
  gently..." he says. "Careful! Don't use your teeth!"

       Hesitantly,  I do as he says. He begins moving slowly in and out of my
  mouth, sliding over my lips and tongue. At first, I just kneel there. Then,
  as  I  gain  courage,  I  run  my tongue hesitantly along his hot shaft. He
  groans  softly.  Encouraged,  I  begin flickering my tongue over the smooth
  head,  feathering  it  along the sensitive underside of the shaft, and even
  darting the tip of my tongue into the tiny hole at the end. He is breathing
  quite  hard  now, and I can feel him pulsing gently. The salty fluid begins
  to  flow  more rapidly, first one drop and then another. Suddenly, he wraps
  both  hands  tightly in my hair. I gasp slightly at the pain, the forget it
  as  he  thrusts  firmly  into  my mouth and holds me there, pressed tightly
  against his groin. He is all the way inside my mouth, his short, dark pubic
  hair  tickling my nose and lips, and the head of his penis rubbing the back
  of  my  throat.  A firm throbbing begins, and I feel it all along my tongue
  and  the insides of my cheeks and on my lips. Gouts of burning liquid spurt
  from  him  into  my  mouth and throat. My eyes are watering terribly, and I
  begin  to  choke.  Will it ever end? Finally the throbbing dies down. A few
  erratic  spasms  shake  him,  and then he is still. He draws a deep, ragged
  breath  and I realize that he has been holding his breath for a while. With
  a  deep  sigh,  he withdraws himself from my mouth. Immediately, I turn and
  spit  out  the  liquid  that  remains in my mouth. It forms a smally, slimy
  puddle that is quickly absorbed by the dusty hay.

       "That  was  wonderful!"  he  sighs.  I  nod  shakily,  though  I'm not
  altogether  certain  I  agree.  It  was  different,  yes, and even a little
  exciting, but I'm not sure I'd care to try it again right away. At least he
  had  enjoyed it, though. Maybe now he'd see me as a woman, rather than just
  a pesky kid.

       Outside,  the  bull is still grunting and rutting. I creep over to the
  window  to  watch.  After  a  moment,  I  feel  Brad's  arm slide around my
  shoulders.  "Looks  like  they're  having  fun, doesn't it?" he whispers. I
  shrug  noncommittally. "Like to try it?" he asks. I turn and look at him is
  shock.

       "What, just like that?" I gasp, incredulous.

       "No,  silly, of course not!" he replies teasingly. "People do it a lot
  differently. You'll like it. Come on..." he urges.

       "Well...  ok..."  I  finally agree. I'm not really sure that I'll like
  it,  but Brad wants to and I do enjoy making him happy. He beams at me, and
  I  know  that  again  I've  said the right thing. I turn to face him and am
  surprised  to  see  that  he  has  removed  his shirt and shoes, and is now
  completely  naked.  Not only that, but his penis is again pointing straight
  out from his body. It bounces comically as he walks.

       He  carefully  slips  my  T-shirt  off  over  my  head, then kneels to
  unbutton  my  shorts.  As  he slides them down my legs, he brushes his lips
  lightly over the soft hair that has so recently sprouted between my thighs.
  His  warm breath causes little shivers to go all through me. My clothes and
  underwear  swiftly  join Brad's in a little discarded heap on the floor. He
  runs  his  fingers  lightly up my leg, tangling them among the short curls,
  then  runs  them  along  my  slit.  Tiny  electric shocks surge through me,
  weakening  my  knees  and  almost  causing me to collapse. Brad notices and
  guides  me  over to a bale of hay where he seats me. The hay prickles a bit
  on  my  bare  bottom,  but  I  don't  care  right  now. Brad's fingers have
  continued their lazy exploration of my private regions, slipping between my
  tender  lips  and even probing inside me. His mouth is no less busy, having
  closed over one of my nipples. He nibbles gently, sucking on the tiny peak.
  I moan, dizzy with strange, intoxicating feelings.

       I  had  never  thought  anything could feel so good! Sure, I had often
  explored  my own body while I lay in the bathtub, but it hadn't felt nearly
  the  same.  I  wonder  briefly  why  it  should feel so different when Brad
  touches me in those secret places than when I touch myself there. Then, all
  questions  are driven from my mind as he raises his mouth to meet my own. I
  have  never been kissed before, not my a boy, and I don't think kisses from
  aunts  or  uncles  count.  This  is  completely  different from those other
  kisses,  anyway.  It  is  longer,  hotter, and deeper. Brad's tongue flicks
  lightly against my lips, and instinctively I part them. He probes my mouth,
  sliding  his tongue past my lips and joining it in a sensuous dance with my
  own  tongue.  I  follow  his  lead  and  taste his sweet breath, the smooth
  hardness of his teeth and the softness of his lips.

       His hands are firm against my shoulders now as he draws me down to the
  floor.  The  hay  is soft and deep here, though it tickles slightly, and it
  makes  a  fine  nest for us. Slowly he runs his hands down my body, leaving
  tiny trails of goosebumps behind. I am breathing just as hard as he is now,
  and  I know that I want something - I'm not sure exactly what - very badly.
  There  is  a  deep, sweet ache inside me, yearning to be filled, and I know
  somehow that Brad will be able to fill it.

       At  last  his  hands  reach  my  thighs, and very gently he draws them
  apart. He kneels between my legs for a moment, then stretches out on top of
  me.  For  a  moment  his  weight forces the breath from my body, but then I
  become  accustomed  to  it  and  he no longer seems heavy. His hands fumble
  between  my legs. At first I am perplexed, but then I realize his intent as
  I  feel  the head of his penis, hard and hot, pressing against the entrance
  to my privates. It seems so big! There is no way it could fit, but still he
  presses  against  me.  He  withdraws one hand and I see some slippery fluid
  glistening on his fingertips, but it is only when he raises his hand to his
  lips and licks it off that I realize that it is my own.

       He  grips  my  thighs  lightly,  spreading  them  further  apart,  and
  positions  himself  over  me.  He is now centered on my tiny hole, pressing
  firmly  against  me.  It  hurts  a bit, but with the promise of pleasure to
  come.  I  press back against him, anxious to feel him inside me. Slowly, he
  begins  to  enter  me.  I  whimper  softly. It feels as if I will be ripped
  apart,  now! I want him to stop, to withdraw, yet paradoxically I also want
  him  to  continue.  The pain grows sharper, and it seems that I can feel my
  delicate tissues tearing as he forces his way into me, but I match him push
  for  shove.  Suddenly  there  is a wave of greater pain, and then he slides
  easily  in  as if whatever had blocked him had been torn away. Now he pulls
  back,  nearly  withdrawing  completely  from  my  body.  I moan weakly, not
  wanting  him  to  leave me. In answer, he drives easily into me again. This
  time  there  is  no  obstacle, and he buries himself to the hilt. Again and
  again, he lunges into me. I raise my hips to match his thrusts, reacting to
  the  same  primitive  instincts  that  I have observed so many times in the
  livestock.  A  fierce  pressure  seems to be building up inside me, until I
  feel  as  if  I  will burst. Another thrust, and I can scarcely contain it.
  Another, and I am shoved over the brink. Every muscle in my body convulses.
  My  toes  clench  tightly, and my thighs twitch wildly. I can feel my inner
  muscles  contract  fiercely  around  Brad's penis, gripping it tightly with
  almost  the  same  movement  I use to milk the cows. And it seems to have a
  similar  result  on  him, because he plunges deep into me and holds himself
  there,  throbbing  wildly as his juices flood into me. It seems an eternity
  before  our  bodies  come  back under our control. Finally, the pulsing and
  twitching  ease  and  we  collapse  limply into one another's arms. Brad is
  still buried deep within me, but now he has grown smaller and soft.

       A familiar voice interrupts this peaceful interlude. "Brad! Jodi! Time
  for dinner!" We jump guiltily, grabbing frantically for our clothes.

       "We'll  be right there, mom!" I shout back in the general direction of
  the  house.  Hastily,  we  brush  the dust and hay from our hair and sweaty
  bodies  and  dress.  Brad  pauses  briefly to give me a quick kiss, then we
  scamper  down  the ladder. As we leave the barn, Brad whispers that he will
  have to come visit more often this summer. I wholeheartedly agree.
