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Cousin in the barn
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Path: uflorida!caen!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!qt.cs.utexas.edu!cs.utexas.edu!utgpu!utzoo!telly!erotiom: 23480853%[email protected] (alex)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.erotica
Subject: In the Barn
Message-ID: <[email protected]>
Date: 22 Jul 91 01:16:37 GMT
Sender: [email protected] (Evan Leibovitch)
Organization: Somewhere just far enough out of Toronto
Lines: 302
Approved: [email protected]
Archive-name: in-the-barn
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 the moment.
Sweat trickles coolly down my back, sticking my t-shirt to the moist
skin underneath. I itch slightly from the bits of straw that have crept
under my clothes. The air is sweetly fragrant from the soft cushions of
new mown hay. I stretch luxuriously, wishing that I could stay here
forever.
The door opens, squeaking on rusty hinges. I freeze, resenting this
intrusion on my private domain. Quietly, I creep to the edge of the loft
and peer downward through swirling columns of dust. A lone figure leading
a horse enters. At first my eyes, accustomed to the brightness by the
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 16 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 I see 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 woman 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?"
"Thirteen and a half!" 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 - letter 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 embarassed.
"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,
his hand slides 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 interupts 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
reddish 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.
The 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 htis." 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 minute. 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 baby!
Defiantly, I say, "Sure, I could try - But you'll 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 instructs. "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 begin exploring his hot shaft with my tongue.
He groans. 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. I am
taking my cues from Brad; whatever he seems to like, I repeat or explore
further. 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
at the brief pain, then 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 small, slimy puddle that is quickly
absorbed by the dusty hay.
"That was wonderful!" he sighs. I nod shakily, not altogether certain
that I agree. It was different, yes, and even a little exciting, but
I'm not sure that I'd care to try it again right away. At least he
had enjoyed it, though. Maybe now he'd see me as a real woman, rather
than just a pesky kid.
Outside, the bull is still grunting and pumping away. 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 in 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 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 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 maon, 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 by a boy. Kisses from
my father and uncles don't 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. It
makes a fine nest for us. Brad slowly 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 bit! 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 enger 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 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 scarecely contain it. Another, and I am shoved over the brink. Every
muscle in my body convulses. My toes clench 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 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
small and soft.
A familiar voice shatters our 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, then dress. Brad pauses 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.
--
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