Date: Thu, 9 Aug 2012 13:46:15 -0400 From: Jacob Schwann <cobschwann@gmail.com> Subject: 'Cob 'n Pen #17'(bi inc gB cons)[17!24] 'Cob 'n Pen #17'(bi inc gB cons)[17!24] This is a work of soft and slow erotic fiction (bisexual, incest), adapted without attribution from personal, family, public, and other sources. It is a pastiche of original material as well as revised versions of a number of story fragments borrowed liberally from elsewhere. All of the characters in this story are portrayed by adults 18 years of age or older. If reading erotic fiction is illegal where you live, or if you are under age for reading this type of material, or this is not what you wish to read, please leave this page now. Comments welcome: Contact cobschwann@gmail.com. I enjoy the tales about what happened within different families, especially the illustrations. A reminder, Nifty needs our donations to post the stories from all the authors. <http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html> ******************** Cob `n Pen #17 Summary: A brother and sister, Jacob (Cobby) and Penelope (Penny), recall their first times in the 1930's by a patchwork of letters to a kind doctor who helped them out of a jam. Vignettes in this episode: THREE LETTERS: Cow & Bull Barnyard; Washroom & Kitchen; Bedroom Buffalo Dance THREE LETTERS: >>>from JACOB (Cobby) * * * ********** Dear Uncle Doctor From JACOB Pike Lake Crossroads at Old Aunt Elsa's, Wednesday, May 2, 1934, 9AM. COW & BULL BARNYARD With a bark Patches licked my nose and I sneezed awake. I lay in my narrow bottom bunk, almost in dream sleep. The bodily sensations had passed, but my mind still sensed the surprising fullness and completeness that had been given to me as a belated 13th birthday present five days earlier. For the very first time, my 'Handsome Camper' cousin Steven had made illicit and criminal love to my ass. I took all he had to give! [Episode # 16] I breathed out with the astonishing physical memory. Steven had said, "When you next start shooting, a portion of the cum will be mine." So I'd resolved to hold off, to sequester Steven's precious bodily fluids within me for future use. But the imperious urges were too strong. Glorious wet dreams and habitual jerk-offs sowed the oats onto the sheets. But not this morning. My kid sister Penny and I were lawfully truant from school; we were to help old Cousin Max breed the cow, and I was late. I took a look-see around the Schwann family quilt that divided our shared bedroom – yep, my sister's big green bed was empty. The tattered chore dress was missing from its peg by the door. Her boots were there though, so she had to be down in the barnyard barefoot. I hauled out of bed and scratched and stretched, glancing at the skinny red-headed kid reflected naked in all the mirrors stuck up around our little bedroom. I struck a `strong man' pose with my sinewy muscles as Patches gave my hard on a good morning lick, and it made me shimmer. Pulling on an old flannel shirt and baggy hand-me-down linen trousers, I tugged the suspenders over my shoulders. I grabbed a muffin from the rack above the wood cook stove and stepped on to the kitchen porch of our miserable shotgun shack. The morning was clear and cool with clouds on the horizon. The early May sunlight seared my eyes. I looked past the barn to where Penny was in the big meadow, her floppy dress and long black braid flying, trying to get a halter on Naomi. Immense old Cousin Max, ever his jolly self, acted the circus ringmaster in the center of the barnyard, laughing as he stood by the bull pen, hooting at Penny's efforts. Naomi was out there prancing about as though she were still a heifer with her tail raised and her rump hair standing on end. She ran urgently up and down the fence line when she was not mounting poor placid ancient Ruth, her older companion cow. Even I could see the streams of clear mucus dripping down Naomi's legs from her vulva. She was in estrus. She knew what she wanted, and that something was what only the young bull Noah could provide. I hopped over the fence and ran barefoot through the squishy mud and cow pies to give my 11 year old sister Penny a hand. We slid and slithered about, knocking into each other, our clothes damp and clinging in the wet of the morning dew. Penny was really short for a swimmer but strong. I towered over her, not helping her much for all my rope-climbing and gymnastics practice, all gangly and slipping about in the muck. As usual Penny gave the orders; I followed. She bold; me shy. We finally got the rope around the cow's bucking head and held on for dear life as Naomi plunged willy-nilly headlong for Noah in the barnyard. Cousin Max soothed her with his huge hands and bellowing voice. 70 year old Max was colossal, standing a full head above me and as round as a great barrel. One did not have conversations with our cousin, one listened to him declaim. He was delighted to embarrass us by being our self-proclaimed teacher on all topics relating to the birds and the bees [Episode #6]. He joked about our long ago ancestor, Great-Grandfather Josephus, telling the old story with hearty laughter. "Great-Grandfather Josephus practiced animal husbandry...," Cousin Max declared with a roar, "...until they caught him at it! Ho ho ho! But it must have felt great!" He punched my arm nearly knocking me over, "Eh, Jacob?" Max justified our great-grandfather's unusual romantic affection with animals by quoting with gusto from our Cainan Faith Community manifesto, " `The fitness of things is governed by the Nature of things; and not by the custom, the forms and the municipal laws. Nothing is indeed unfit that is not un-Natural.' Or that doesn't fit!' he bawled in a loud laughing voice. "If the shoe fits, wear it! If the muff fits, stuff it! If the sheath fits, house it! If the hole fits, screw it! Ha ha ha!" I was red faced and I had mud and manure all over me and matted in my hair. I hopped up to perch on the top board of the rickety fence, not ten feet from the cow and bull. Cousin Max tied Naomi's halter to the chestnut tree in the divided pen. "Now Jacob," Cousin Max fairly shouted toward me. "Note Naomi's estrus juices flowing down her leg! She's just like one of your girly friends who gets so wet `cause she's desperate to be sparkin' with you!" And he laughed while I was mortified, like any 13 year old boy would be. Penny just nodded with interest. "This is not to be confused with your menstrual periods," he yelled toward Penny, who at age 11 and a half was no where near having her monthlies, I was certain. "As Old Aunt Elsa tells you, if your eggs haven't been fertilized, then your bloody monthly menstrual flow is your womb weeping for its lost children! Of course if you're full of bouncing boy sperms and your ripe eggs take them in, then your womb is quite happy to be impregnated and you miss your periods!" Cousin Max was bewilderingly direct. I was blushing and in a sweat. Penny whooped with laughter as Cousin Max slid a vast hand along her back to cuddle her bottom. "Ah, our little Penelope is undeniably pretty, is she not?" Max hollered. "With her jet black curls and heart shaped face and that rousing smile! Slender but with good hips! You'll have no trouble bearing children! But never be generous about offering your body, my dear!" It was tiny Penny that he called to come into the far side of the bull pen with him, and she barely came up to his giant belly. He clucked to fine-looking Noah, a sleek and strong young Jersey bull with a shiny nose ring who was at ease with his place in creation. Standing upwind on his side of the divided pen, he had not yet seen or sniffed Naomi's estrus fluids, and was still quite calm. Cousin Max instructed Penny on Jersey bulls. They were small as compared to the other dairy breeds, but extremely masculine. Good bulls were fit and fertile, sound of body and able to `provide proper service'. "That means he's got to be able to copulate properly! You hear that, Jacob?" Cousin Max yelled over to me. "Service! We're talking about servicing females! Keep your eyes open! There's a right way to do it!" I was bright red. Placid Noah seemed to enjoy the attention as Cousin Max had Penny scratch his low swinging balls with a pizzle stick and stretch her hands around Noah's sizeable scrotum to heft his testes within. About 11 inches around the sack was her guess. Cousin Max nodded, and said that was a good beginning for an 18 month old male, an eager teen lad, he said laughing and pointing at me. "A lot of male animals enjoy gentle stimulation of the testicles, which can involve tugging, cradling or simply licking the scrotum," Cousin Max explained to Penny. "You agree, Jacob? Healthy testes should have give and firmness! They're the consistency of your big brother's biceps muscle! You can check Jacob out in a moment, but feel down here now!" She squeezed the bull's balls and glanced up at me and smiled. I was so self-conscious I thought I would die. Cousin Max explained that Noah was the product of Naomi's second freshening, her second calf. Both Naomi and Noah were sired by the prize bull Lamech, so they were technically sister and brother as well as mother and son. Naomi was named for Neemah of our Cainan scriptures, our patriarch Noah's mother and later his wife, and ultimately their son Ham's wife as well. So our Naomi was the mother of this bull Noah, and soon to be his mate. And, if the future inseminations were successful, Naomi also would be the consort of her next bull calf, who of course was to be named Ham. It was written in our scriptures that that consanguineous coupling had brought forth Cainan, the forever cursed wanderer and namesake of our Cainan Community. My head swam with this incestuous biblical pedigree. I cringed to see Penny under the young bull, fondling his balls. At the same time I was on the fence getting hot and horny, rubbing my big bare feet back and forth on each other. My kid sister watched Noah's penis uncoil from its sheath in the middle of his belly like a yard-long dowel, practically to his front legs. Cousin Max was delighted, as the length of the far-reaching phallus augured well for Noah's being a good breeder. He yelled some obscene joke to me about measuring my competition and comparing the two of us. "Big feet big meat, eh Jacob?" laughed Cousin Max. "True for every man-creature of uncommon sexual appetite!" I was struck dumb with shame. THE GIFT Immense Cousin Max suddenly stood tall with a beautiful smile upon his face as if he were an overgrown choir boy. One arm crossed to rest upon his breast, his other hand cradled his groin, encasing his `crown jewels'. He sonorously chanted a prayer of gratitude: "We thank our Great Mother of the earth and all the gods of heaven for the gift of procreative arousal! We give thanks for any sudden sexual urge," he intoned, "any twinge in a young female's vulva or nipple, any surge in a young male's lifting phallus! We are mindful, and pause to allow the divine driving itch to flow over us for a second, a moment, an hour, whatever we are given! Our joy and our duty is to give and to receive and be filled and if at all possible to act from the power of this gift! Amen!" I gaped open-mouthed at Max's audacious prayer. Penny had a huge smile on her face. "Now!" cried Max, "Let us give Naomi her ice cream, shall we? She wants her sweet cream!" He had Penny open the divider in the bull pen before she scrambled up beside me on the fence rail. She was in one of Old Aunt Elsa's baggy farm dresses, worn and patched and damp from the dew and the goo from the cow and bull. The warm breeze billowed it about her child-like form, so her breasties were outlined, with her tiny nipples pointed up hard and even her little girl kitty-pen lips etched out down below. Well, Penny may have been only 11 years old, but she was positively glowing, perspiring a bit, her eyes wide and happy. The mud on her feet and dirt on her face and hands made her look alive and set to go. She seemed as ready as Naomi. My buttonless shirt blew back from my stringy torso, and the wind on my bare tits was enough to give me a hard on. I was naturally randy anyway, and now here was this bull and his mother or sister, and here was my own sister... It was all too much. I just stared at Penny. In moments of quiet I found I was strangely attracted to her. Then like any other clueless adolescent, the boy bull Noah trotted confidently toward where his mother Naomi was tethered. He casually bid her hello until he caught wind of her rich clear estrus streaming down her legs. His whole body perked up, he snorted in a big breath; his muscles went tight and he seemed to grow. He nuzzled her rump and her secretions dripped from his nose. He began to lick her introitus with his tongue in long deliberate laps from bottom to top. Naomi gave forth a plaintive drawn out, moaning moo while twitching her rear. "Hey, Jacob!" Cousin Max called and I winced. "You see how it's done? This is how you make her ready!" Naomi held her tail aside and tipped her ass up to present herself to Noah. As Noah sidled along her, she lapped her tongue over his flank and down to his penis. They both seemed very pleased. "And Penelope!" Max guffawed. "What's good for the goose is good for the gander!" My sister threw a hand over her mouth and snickered, grabbing on to my upper arm so she would not fall off the fence. My cock jumped at the feel of her fingers gripping my muscle. We watched the young bull strut around, bouncing up on his hooves, swaggering about the pen like a youthful wrestler warming up for a match. Then he began to prance, and became pumped up and looked larger and stronger. Naomi bellowed desperately for the payoff. In a few moments he mounted her for real. He was a bit uncertain, and stood there with his chest on her rump, his bull cock a good foot away from her entrance. That first time there was just a spray of thin milky semen spewed over her rear. Uncle Max called to me in a very loud stage whisper, "See Jacob, a lot of first time lads pop before they really get it in! It's mostly precum so it's okay!" "Aw, applesauce," I clenched my eyes shut and grimaced. Penny wrapped her arm about mine and snuggled ever closer to me. She laughed nervously. Noah broke from Naomi, his scrotum swinging like a bell clapper. Penny's hands were upon my upper arm, her fingers palpating my biceps. I was so embarrassed, but I had done tons of rope climbing so my arm was kind of nice when I flexed it for her. I liked that satisfying feel of my growing arm muscle pushing against her slight encircling fingers, and then I went hot and panted and stared suddenly at the sky. "Oh no!" I moaned. "Ng-ah!" A sudden wet spot grew like I'd just spilled milk in my trousers. Of course I'd creamed a bit in my pants. Penny kept a grip on my left arm and looked at me askance. I threw my right hand over my dripping lap as I fought to keep from toppling off the rail. A few moments later Noah mounted Naomi again. This time, humping, humping, with forelegs clasped behind her forelegs, his pizzle-penis longer, thicker, harder, centered on her vulva, it began to disappear inside as his hind legs danced and he lifted and pulled himself up on her back. The mother's call trumpeted loud and then mellowed and sweetened as the son penetrated her and pumped her with little leaps that were awesome in so large an animal. "He's entered her Gate of Heaven!" Max announced in a knowing tone, and grinned a most salacious grin. "A consummation devoutly to be wished!" The young male's scrotum lifted; soon dribbles of wet secretions and cream oozed from the older female's vagina. I just gaped to see it. Penny was staring wide eyed as well. "Like a mix of light corn syrup and rich thick vanilla ice cream," marveled Cousin Max, grossly smacking his lips. "Their first fuck is kind of a rape, as it will be for each of you, quick, hot, heavy. When the first hot rape fuck is past, then they and you can start having slow sex. Love making will follow in time. All will be well." After quite a while Noah slid off of her. When they had both recovered with heaving breaths, he did indeed go onto and into her yet again, slowly and lovingly. Uncle Max sang softly and talked constantly to his animals. He seemed as pleasured and gratified by their union as they were. After another time or so of the son Noah going at it with his sister-mother, Naomi, Cousin Max called it, "A good measure!" Penny hopped off the fence to get the halter, and I turned my back and climbed gingerly down, being so charged up that my rock hard prick was again sticking the suspiciously damp trousers straight out. Penny turned to stare when Cousin Max guffawed and gave me the thumbs-up. With a laugh Max sang the two of us the old opera aria `Là ci darem la mano' in his sinfully rich basso, " `Let go, my loves, let go! To heal the pain and woe! Relieve the suffering of your innocent love, the suffering of your innocent love!' " MEADOW GRASS My balls were as full as peaches and, Great Mother, they were aching. I so wanted to just frantically jerk off for real this time to release the pressure. But Penny stuck to me like flypaper. We separated the satisfied animals, with Noah staying in his pen. We moved along side the heaving Naomi to wrestle her halter on, and the estrus fluid and semen smeared all over her back and sides was soon all over the two of us. We led her around and through the gate and pulled it to. We rested our elbows on the fence rail to watch the satisfied cow join her companion ancient Ruth in the meadow. They got down to their business of feeding on the grass. Penny chattered on delightedly about every detail of what we had witnessed. It made me cringe. I chased my little sister. I grabbed her about the waist and tossed her right up over my shoulder. She seemed not much heavier that a squeaking kitten, being light and compact, but she screamed like a laughing banshee and clawed at me with her hands. I was so full of juice that it all made me feel ready to bust, so I ran with her to the top of the pasture where a little hillock gave a wide view. She broke loose and we ran with legs flung outward and to the side over the heads of the swaying grass, seas and ripples and oceans of sweet grass. We sprawled there getting our breath in the noon sun. We were both pretty wound up, and kept giggling whenever one of us caught the other's eye. My sister seemed really happy. I lay on my back in the sun baked meadow grass with my arms behind my head, the old work shirt baggy and gaping. She asked like a child, "What is the grass?" fetching handfuls and sprinkling them on my bare belly. I scanned the waving fields of rising spears and sniffed the fresh fragrance of the grass. How could I answer her? I did not know any more than she. The scent wasn't the only thing that was rising. "I guess the grass is flags waving, and good smells lifting," I said stupidly. "It's for us, that's for sure." Penny in her loose-fitting prairie dress settled down on her elbows practically on top of me. She looked me over through her heavy-lidded ox-eyes. Her gaze caressed my eyes, my throat, sliding downward to linger on my open chest and belly and damp button fly with its top button undone, before returning to my lips. Penny sang a hymn of Old Aunt Elsa's in a high, melodious voice that made my toes curl, "Awake, awake O north wind, and come O south! Blow upon my garden that its spiced perfume may flow out. Let my beloved brother come to my garden, to his sister, and taste her choice fruits." (Canticles of Cainan, 4: 16) She patted my bare tummy as we sniggered and sort of avoided looking at each other. She took a long shaft of timothy grass and lazily stroked it back and forth over my belly button and under the loose waistband of my jeans. It felt itchy as she left the spear of grass there. I wanted to scratch, but I didn't. We giggled softly. The bright blue sky was changing and bringing in those huge puffy clouds with darker bottoms. "Thunderheads," was all I said. "Storm's coming." My mind was swirling with the young bull servicing his sister-mother cow, with progeny and progenitors, mothers and sons, sisters and brothers, estrus and semen, dripping, creamy semen. I pictured Cousin Steven likely `phooking' his half sister, our cousin Pin-Up Suzie. I reasoned that at some point the likelihood of Steven or my friend Mickey or some other local lad slipping it to my own little sister was great. That would carry risks, pretty much the same risks if my own dick entering her little `Gate of Heaven', save for the obvious incest factor involved. In my thinking it all pretty much boiled down to avoiding the Black Coat vigilantes, and not getting her with child. Some part of me decided to broach the subject with Penny, if things ever progressed that far between us. Penny's thumb made slow lazy circles on my skin. She drew her finger over some sticky bovine goo secretion that had found its way onto my skinny belly and lifted a strand of it up with her hand. We watched absently as the gummy strings stretched and reformed between the two of us. My abdomen was naturally sucked in pretty far, and my stomach growls were louder than the lowing of the cattle. Penny looked at me a bit sideways. "Cousin Max said Old Aunt Elsa left cream and cherry pie for us in our bungalow kitchen." My ears were roaring with all the things we should be saying to each other, all the could nots and should nots and must nots and may nots and no nevers. And now creamy milk and cherry pie! Suddenly I only heard the flies buzzing and the insects getting ready for summer, and the calls of the red wing blackbirds gathering into small groups after flying north. Bird songs, mating, making nests, hatching new chicks. These rhythms were the true rules. What had Cousin Max said? `Nothing that fits is indeed unfit. If the hole fits, screw it!' Omagod! Suddenly I was up and running hard. The two of us were definitely getting hotter. It scared me. I ran like hell in wide circles around the hill top. I was going crazy. I ran from what Penny was doing to me, from what being with her was doing to me. My skin crawled and I was in a sweat, my heart raced, and my damn prick would not stay down and would not quit dribbling precum. Sure, like all siblings we had fooled around in the last months, just groping a couple of times. I'd pawed at her booblets and even explored her crotch. She'd brought me off more than once with her hands, but one of us always had our underpants on so it wasn't incest! [Episodes #13, #14, #15] But my little sister was just being innocent and sweet, a cute kid; while I was the big brother, I was supposed to ignore her. The truth was I thought of her whenever I beat off, which meant all the time. I thought of being with her, and even imagined being inside her. I had it bad. But if we did IT, Penny and I, you know IT, then I'd be taken out to the Hanging Tree and strung up by the Black Coat incest vigilantes to be cut, castrated, killed. I did not want that. She was but 11, I was still 13. So I ran hard in circles around her. She did not say a word. She grabbed a bit of mushy cow flop, tossed it hard, and the shit hit me PLOP square on the shoulder. "You'll pay for that!" I yelled, sprinting away down the meadow like a spindly racer. I ran to the cow barn, to the washroom down beneath, my bare feet slapping on the stone step as I dashed inside. I left the door ajar and sunshine blasted into the murky interior. I pulled out the stalk of timothy grass and dropped my baggy trousers and work shirt and tossed them into one of the big soapstone laundry sinks. I was slimy and grimy from cow goo and sweat, mud and muck. It felt good to be nude. I trotted through the steamy air to the far end, crouching at the maze of plumbing by the glowing coal furnace. I worked the pipes, twisting handles and wrestling with faucets to send the vaporous hot water to the shower stalls. A shadow blocked the sun light from behind me. I turned. There was Penny silhouetted in the doorway. She watched me through the pinkish mist. When I stood toward her I kept a hand over my privates, you know, being decent. Yours truly, JACOB ********** * * * ****** ****** WASHROOM & KITCHEN >>>PENELOPE (Penny) * * * ********** Dear Uncle Doctor From PENELOPE Re: Pike Lake Crossroads in the barn washroom and bungalow kitchen, Wednesday, May 2, 1934, Noon. I was as ready as Naomi the cow in estrus, or as any female, I thought. Wow! I swear I felt such yearnings swirling deep inside me. That studly young Jersey bull Noah had stuck his long, long thing right into his desperate sister-mother Naomi. Oh, she wanted it. And I saw it. I felt it inside myself. I was excited to handle the bull's huge balls in their sack, and I would've touched his penis too, and I bet Cousin Max would have let me. "Corn syrup and ice cream", the old man had said. I licked my lips with the taste of bull semen in my mind. I had to laugh. The year before when I was 10 all this would have made me throw up. Now, well, I was 11 and a half, going on 12 and I sort of liked it. No, I really liked it. I recalled Old Aunt Elsa chanting from scripture, "O most beautiful among young sisters, fairest among small girls, if you have no knowledge as yet, if you yourself do not know, then get thee forth. Follow the tracks of the herd. Watch the young kine sport upon one another beside the cowherd's hut. For, my beauty, my sister, you are like the ready heifer, singular among the herds of Cainan." (Canticles of Cainan, 1: 8-9) I was in one of Old Aunt Elsa's loose farm dresses, worn and patched and damp from the dew and the goo from the cow and bull. The breeze pushed the frayed fabric along my body. My pokey breasties were outlined by the cloth, with my little nipples pointed up hard. I watched it cling to the little paired pillows of my Venus mound at my crotch. Ready? Oh, yes! I opened myself to the warmth of the early May sun that still peeked past the gathering clouds. Hmm. I watched Cobby dashing ahead to fiddle with the hot water in the old laundry room in the bottom of the barn. That bit of cow flop I threw got him smack on the shoulder. Ha! He'd run like a hurdler, so long and narrow, leaping above the early grass of the meadow, hmm.... I murmured the old chant, "Hurry my beloved brother, make haste. Come away, and be like a gazelle or a young stag on my mound of spices." (Canticles of Cainan, 8: 14) Cobby was so full of it that he had leaked. Even while I was holding his arm. Sitting on the fence rail, the bull and cow doing it in front of us, his boy juice made a big wet spot in his pants. Yes! No ordinary school boy or cousin made my heart do handsprings in my chest. No ordinary boy made my skin tingle just by looking at me. I strode barefoot on the stone step into the washroom beneath the barn. A bit of sun came in the door and through the two filthy little windows high up on the stone walls. It seemed dark and foggy inside, but warm, with the hot steam hissing and clanging the maze of pipes by the coal furnace at the far end of the room. There was a pink figure crouched deep in the vapor with its back to me, naked. It stood, so tall and slender with the pale rounded bottoms and then stooped again to work the valves, half lost in the mist. Maybe he was a garden gnome, certainly a young faun with the body of a boy and the legs and horns of a he-goat. It made me curiously excited. The slate floor was cold and I skipped over to the soapstone sinks, pulling the dress off over my head to add to the soggy pants and shirt Cobby had tossed in. There was that spear of timothy grass I had stroked over his belly and stuffed pokey down his pants. Now I was exposed, and I ran my fingers up my belly and touched my tiny breasts, which were not so tiny anymore. I undid the braid and shook out my long black hair. The handsome faun stood in the steamy haze, elongated legs, round butt, slender back with that blaze of red hair about the head. Not fully turning toward me, he glanced and averted his eyes, seeing that like him I had no clothes on. "Hot water's really hot," he warned. "Better mix in the cold." There was the old marble shower stall for the men, and an adjoining smaller one for women from long ago when whole families were hired to gather in the crops. Immense Cousin Max had laughed about the `May Babies' that followed from those fall harvest showers in the old days. I stepped in and fiddled with the water. I liked it hotter than it needed to be. I heard Cobby messing with the faucets in the adjacent men's stall, and I saw his tapered ankles and big feet with lengthy long toes under our common marble partition, water swirling down them toward the single drain between us. I grabbed a cake of lavender lard soap from high-up on the window sill and made a lather. I smeared bubbles everywhere, so I was sudsy all over. I mounded up little foam hills on top of my tits. I turned slowly about in my narrow space, leaning forward so my hair was before me in the spray. I was of an age when some parts of me were fuller now, maybe even womanish and they swayed as I swayed; and some parts more muscley from all my swimming. You'd think he might like it! I checked my own upper arm muscle. The bull's balls had truly felt like my brother's bigger biceps. Would Cobby's testicles feel more like my younger arm? I wanted to look beneath the partition at Cobby's sexy toes, his very long toes. Steamy water was pounding down over there, whirling around and into the drain. But no feet. Where was he? I got down on hands and knees with the water coursing over me from my shower head. I couldn't see anything over there on the other side. I had to shimmy down onto my front and slide along the watery stone floor to get beneath the marble partition. I slid my head under and then slithered on my belly partway onto his side. Nothing. Just gushes of hot water cascading down. Where was my brother? A sharp SPANK splatted on my butt and stung. "Ouch!" I shrieked. A cake of soap had smacked my ass. "Gotcha!" he called. "Cut it out!" I screamed, flipping right over onto my back beneath the partition. There above me on the marble wall of the men's shower were the giant feet and drawn-out legs, stretching up distantly to the round bottom and shoulders of the faun with no head. He had pulled himself up and over to look down the other side of the partition at me. No fair! "Hey! No peeking!" I yelled, knowing he was getting a great view of my crotch. Amid uncontrollable whoops and guffaws Cobby let loose and dropped, the big feet slapped to the floor on either side of my head splashing the accumulating water. My eyes stared up the long calves and thighs to a wrinkly ball sack, and his rising thing hanging down so long like a nodding hose directing the flow of shower water in a stream on my face. His belly and shoulders convulsed with chuckles, his fine featured face grimaced in giggles, his curly red hair plastered all wet to his head. He was too cute. "You're the one peeking!" he gasped between laughs. "Look who's sneaking into my shower stall!" Convulsed, he bent an elbow on to the shower wall and leaned forward, pointing at me with his other hand. I was paralyzed, watching the ridges of his belly roll with his laughter, and his newly defined chest rise with his gasps for breath. The water from the shower head poured over him, making him shine and glisten, showing off his freckled nose and shoulders, his chest and belly and narrow hips and strong long legs and great feet. It made his bright red pubic hair lie straight as it poured off his amazing penis, splashing onto me, anointing my breasts and nipples. I swirled with images of that magnificent young bull who'd mounted his sister, or was it his mother, and before me this perfect boy faun directed his hot stream upon me as I lay open to all. I gasped at the warmth flushing from my seared center all the way outward through my limbs and lips, as a yummy cumming-surprise flowed through me. Drifting now, my mind was strangely analytical. Here was boy. Here was male. Not yet a man but not a child. A boy. A young bull. A brother. Able to service a ready heifer, a sister maybe. There was a roaring in my ears. Images filled my mind. Images of my brother and me locked in a blazing embrace. Images that were so real that I further blushed in hot delicious waves all over my body. I had no doubt that if Jacob and I were ever to make love, it would leave me in such a mixed up state for ever. I just watched. He settled down, cupping his hand politely over his genitals, chortling quietly. He turned his back to me, more timid than me, glancing over his shoulders with a shy smile. I watched his flexing back, the hollows forming and filling in his buttocks as he shifted about. "I got you back for tossing the cow shit," he added. "Now get over to your own side." With a sigh I slid back under the marble partition to wash and rinse my hair and ponder what I had seen. Then I turned off the water and moved through the misty washroom to where a single huge towel hung. I dried myself with my half of it, and held my hair above the hot steam pipes to dry in the rising warmth. I looked back at the men's shower stall where the water still flowed full tilt. My faun's back was toward me, one of his hands pushing against the stone wall, the other bent around in front and rapidly pumping there amidst the gushing water. I forced myself to look away. There were no dry work clothes. Inside the cabinet there was only a folded pair of Cousin Max's giant red flannel pajamas, worn, frayed and patched but clean. They were soft with the fresh smell that comes from drying under the sun. The immense pants were useless to me so I left them for Cobby. I pulled on the voluminous top, buttoning the one remaining button. I looked silly, I thought, in that red tent that came down over my thighs, covering little as it gaped wide, showing my bare legs and feet. I made my way back to our `home-house', the little shotgun bungalow where the hired man used to live before they raised chickens in it, and eventually one of Old Aunt Elsa's nieces had made it into an artist's studio with all the mirrors in our shared bedroom [Episode #10]. Now it was our home at Pike Lake Crossroads; and mom was away working. There on the table was the temptingly warm cherry pie and a pitcher of cool creamy milk that Old Aunt Elsa had left for us. "Hurry up, Cobby!" I yelled from the kitchen porch down toward the barn. It was darkening and threatening rain. "Or I'll eat it all myself!" KITCHEN I brushed out my hair in the rare rays of sun as my brother came galloping out of the barn bare naked, red hair on his head and at his crotch with his thing flopping around and Patches nipping at his heels. Cobby was lank with his long neck and prominent Adam's apple, and at first sight looked disconnected. His stride was ungainly and he seemed to topple and his ears protruded. He hopped first on one foot and then the other pulling on Cousin Max's colossal pajama bottoms. He had to stop and bunch it around his narrow waist to tie the cord in a hasty knot. Then he loped up easily onto the porch and strode manfully into the kitchen. He ran his hands through his red coily hair and it sprang up all curly and clean. Without thought he had a shaky but sure grace. Like a knight before his maiden he presented me with that single shaft of timothy grass. Then he grabbed the slice of cherry pie I handed him and wolfed it down, his thin shoulders and chest still glistening wet. He was a good looking boy. I sang from the old scriptures: "He brought me to the banquet room, and his banner of love was over me. Sustain us with cherries, refresh us with cream, for we are faint with love." (Canticles of Cainan, 2: 4-5) Catching sight of me in my huge pajama tops with my arms lost in the sleeves, my big brother choked on his milk like a little kid, some of it spilling up out his nose while he laughed. A tent sprung up in his crotch and he reached down and gave it an absent minded tug. Then he pointed at me accusingly as if it were my fault and got himself around the other side of the table so I wouldn't see. Long dribbles of milk dripped off his chin and onto his exposed chest and tummy. I leaned over to wipe them off, running my finger tip across his tight, supple stomach and up his chest. I rubbed the curved mold of his pectorals to catch the milk right on his stiff nipple. I stuck my finger in my mouth. "Mmm, good cream!" I said winking at him. The sky outside got darker and the distant thunder was getting nearer. I must have bobbled some cherry pie onto my front, since his eyes were focused down there. My big pajama top was pretty wide opened; in fact, one of my little breasties was peeking out all uncovered. The bit of cherry preserve right on top of it. "Well?" I said, as I glanced up at my big brother staring wide eyed. His eyes gave out an air of angelelic perplexity and he slowly looked at me with a grin that turned devilish. He stretched his finger down toward the cherry blob, never taking his eyes from mine. He ran the tip of his finger bit by bit up the lower rounding of my breast, sort of feeling the bounce of it, and paused over the little hard nipple. As Cobby slid his hot hand along my body I drew in my breath, a melting soft cumming `surprise' flowing within again, and I nearly fell over. He freed the cherry filling from the crest of my breast and brought it to his puckered lips. He first rolled the fruit inside his mouth, next he stuck his tongue out to show me the round glistening cherry on the tip, and then with a grin he ate it. "Yummy cherry," he smirked, red faced and flushed all over. There was a lightening flash and immediately thunder rolled across the sky and the first scattered drops came down. It all made me feel stirred up deep inside. I chased around the table after Cobby. An alarmed look came over his face. "Oh no you don't," he snapped. He kept the kitchen table between us, but I outsmarted him. I swung an arm behind his back and pulled him close to me to tickle him. He pushed against me with one hand and with the other grabbed my wrist. We turned it into a dance competition with Patches circling about us. Cobby's bare chest rose above my eye level, his groin at my belly. He obviously had something inside there, and my little breasts would not stay covered up by the loose pajama top. It was fun, and we couldn't stop laughing. He finally broke free from the kitchen waltz and escaped at a run toward our little shared bedroom. I chased after him, the spear of timothy grass in my hand. The light through our only bedroom window grew grey with approaching rain. Cobby was grabbing for clothes in our miniature closet. "Okay, stop teasing me," he said, obviously intent on getting dressed for real. I had on only big Cousin Max's red flannel pajama top so I was bare legged, and Cobby was bare chested since he wore just the bottoms. He squealed when I tickled him and pushed him back against the door jam. "Hey, no fair," he complained, but then he got even by tickling me hard. With his high cheek bones and heavily lidded ox-eyes, he had that expression of some surprise. His eyebrows were raised, his lips drawn up in an O, with those deep dimple arcs on either side of his mouth inviting you to smile and laugh out loud with him. And I didn't think twice. I pressed my stirred-up body against his and held him tightly. I reached up to pull his face closer with my arms and kissed him on the cheek. "Penny," he mumbled embarrassed, looking me in the eye. I just couldn't control myself. I was so overwhelmed by my yearning and my feelings for him. And without thinking I stretched and kissed him on his mouth. That was my silent way of saying, `I love you' to him. And I kissed him again, really letting go now, kissing his neck and his chest and his arms as he was so tall. I pressed my body against his, my belly against his groin and I could feel him rising. "Penny, no..." he said weakly, but he didn't push me away. My hands pushed on him and rubbed his bare chest and tickled his nipples. Well, now he was like putty in my hands. Since he was so inexperienced with girls he wasn't taking any initiative at all. That was fine with me because I thought it was so cute as I wiggled over his front. "You're afraid of me!" I announced in a faintly mocking tone. Jacob always looked like an impudent puppy caught begging for food, who would grab it the moment your back was turned. I was frenzied; in heat. So I kept kissing him. I did not say words, but my actions said, oh my brother, can we make love, please? And soon as I did that, he moaned and his bulge just grew even more. Cobby looked at me but he didn't back away. Hugs and kisses, PENELOPE ********** * * * ****** ****** BEDROOM BUFFALO DANCE >>> from JACOB (Cobby) * * * ********** Dear Uncle Doctor From JACOB In our shared bedroom, chicken coop-bungalow, Pike Lake Crossroads, May 2, 1934, 1 PM My body swirled my mind in a dizzying dangerous dance of `I fear' and `I want'. On one hand was the fear of being castrated and strung up in the Hanging Tree by the Black Coat incest vigilantes [Episode #4]. On the other, were Steven's words about Penny, `The girl wants you in her, that's plain enough to see' [Episode #16]. My kid sister Penny and I had watched the bull service the cow; we had messed around together in the meadow and washroom shower; we had slopped cherries and cream over each other in the kitchen. So I ran away to our tiny bedroom to get real clothes and to escape the fate of deadly incest with my sister. I feared it and wanted it. Penny ran after me and I was about to twist away, when her pleasing scent surrounded me, a fragrance that was more than lavender soap and cherry pie. It was the distinct aroma of her skin and hair, the hot `girl' essence of my `ready' young sister herself. She stood bare breasted in just that giant red pajama top of Cousin Max's, and I wore only his big pajama bottoms. She was on tiptoe in our little shared bedroom, the fresh rain outside making the air seem clean and sparkly. I brushed a lock of hair from her forehead, my fingertips stroking lightly over her brow. Her skin was baby soft and smooth. My kid sister stretched to her full height, pouting her lips and pushing up to me so I'd bend down toward her. We'd played this kissing game since childhood, only now I had an iron erection to hide. "Oh no, Penny...," I choked like an idiot. "No.... We can't...!" "It's time," she said in a sultry tone. "Don't you think?" "Time for what?" I asked suspiciously, knowing full well. Around Penny I felt just like our pup Patches – trained to sit up and beg, for attention, for crumbs, to be petted. I pulled back and stared at her suspiciously. Aha! The little devil! Now I knew what was going on. Was I being taken for a ride? Penny loved to joke and make believe and put on plays and direct me and our pup Patches in all sorts of silly foolery, play-acting and dress-up adventures. Was she trying to get my goat? We both could see how my body wanted it from her, heck it was sticking right up there. But why make fun of me and my feelings toward her? "Ha ha ha, very funny," I said grumpily pushing her away. "It's not a joke. Not for me, Penny. Look, I think about this stuff all the time. With you. I know it's wrong. And you're right. I deserve to be yelled at. But not laughed at. Don't make fun of me for it. Tell me to go away, tell me to get out of your sight forever, tell me to go to hell. But don't mock me!" "No," she said, shaking her head, tears welling up in her big doe eyes. She put her hand over my lips to keep me from protesting. "Cobby, you're my big brother.... I'm yours. Who's mocking? Don't you want me?" My baby sister gripped my hand. I couldn't believe it when she reached out to my waist and tugged loose the knot holding up Cousin Max's immense red pj bottoms I was wearing. "Hey! Penny, stop!" I yelled. I quick grabbed the sleeve of the huge pajama top that she was parading around in. I jerked it hard and fast to get her attention. She spun out of control like a top, twirled by the pull on the cloth, her arms slipping free of the sleeves, her breasts and girly parts exposed. WHAP! The single button on her pj top popped off and hit me square in the forehead. Dazed, I stumbled backward; collapsing into our cramped closet, back onto boxes and boots and winter coats. The universe spun about me. Patches was barking like mad. I slowly gained focus, staring upward, wedged flat on my back in the confines of the closet amidst hand-me-downs, school pants, skirts, shirts, and dress-up favorites. On the storage shelf up at the top of the tiny closet was a bull. A bull? A buffalo bull! Dusty buffalo fur and smallish horns curved back against the crown of the old Indian warrior's headdress which Cousin Max got from a county fair years ago. Okay! I vowed to put on such a war dance for Penny that she'd get her mind off any incestuous goings-on. Fighting free, I grabbed the headdress and stuck it on my head. The musty smell of grass and fur and man-sweat and animal rank overtook me. It was hard to see anything, but a mirror across the room showed me in the most far-fetched fur and horned get up ever, and little else. Patches barked and barked. That was my cue for an Indian buffalo stomp and yell. I took to stride into our bedroom but my feet wouldn't move. I pitched forward, falling flat on my face. Those pj bottoms tangled about my ankles, trapping and tripping me. Penny burst out laughing and she did not quit. She sat cross-legged on her own bed without a stitch on, the Schwann family quilt loose over her shoulders, Patches panting happily by her side. Crouching now on hands and feet, the pj bottoms kicked away and lost behind me, naked as the day I was born, I wore just the buffalo horned headdress. I rose on my fingers and toes to prance around, mimicking the young Jersey bull about to service the estrus cow, his sister-mother. I strutted on all fours, bull-like in our little bedroom, bellowing and snorting, sniffing and advancing, having a great time. Even all naked, somehow with the buffalo head gear on I did not feel exposed. It took hiding in a costume to bring out the real me. This was what I was, the Spirit of the Bull, and this was what I was to do. I caught glimpses of us in the many mirrors, Bull Boy and Little Cow Woman Penny's open face was eager, she half sat up clapping her hands in a dance beat, not bothering to hide her breasts with the quilt, her legs parted to show her little girl crevice, hairless and smooth. I saw the mirrors reflecting my own nakedness, me prancing about and springing up with just my headdress, tight freckled skin, wiry arms and legs, round white butt and narrow back; red pubes, ball sack, and long thin cock bobbing for all to see. I heard Penny's yearning mooing like a cow in heat. We both broke into laughter. I moved my head to the left and right and pressed forward to my sister's wide green bed. Her moo sounds encouraged me and I knocked her knees apart with my horns. I stuck out my tongue and lapped along her smooth coppery skin at her ankle and calf and up her thigh, snuffling and licking her sheen of sweat. Her hands stroked my shoulders, drawing me closer to her as she lay back a bit, pulling me up on her bed and between her knees. I could not see much out of the headdress but she made little heifer like noises, now curious, now scared, now impatient, now ready, very ready. I let Penny tug me up as I pushed Patches away. I sat on the bed beside her, skin to skin, knees drawn up side by side, hauling the Schwann family quilt around both our shoulders like a private teepee. My headdress half covered my eyes allowing me to stay in bull character until it shook loose and fell to the floor. Without it I was just Jacob, and scared. I moved my hand to hide my groin. Penny recited one of the old Cainan chants, "Look at you! How handsome you are, my beloved brother! So pleasing to me! Also our bed is verdant green. The beams of our house are cedar, and our rafters are fir." (Canticles of Cainan, 1: 16-17) I looked away as Penny leaned into me and pushed me backwards to nibble dramatically first on one of my nipples and then the other one. Her mouth was warm and firm, her tongue like fire as she stroked me, arousing me, making me think of hot bodies writhing in teepees. "Cobby, I want you to do that to me." "But... but... you're my sister. And neither of us has our underwear on! We mustn't be doing this." With all the excitement I suddenly strangled under an exquisitely unpleasant fullness in my throat, breath struggling, ineffectual arms and legs flailing, falling and I had to roll hard away from my sister. But I was too late. The mirrors showed my astonished face going even more red as I erupted. "Oh-h-h, huh? Damn! Ngh-ah...!" I sputtered. I shot my load. Long arcs of white boy splooge landed on the mirror by the bed and then began to drip slowly down, like skywriting advertising what a looser I was in the sparking department. "Ah nuts! I don't believe it." I tugged a quilt corner over my prick, then tried to retrieve the lost situation, "You're just too cute, Penny; and when you go after my nipples.... I can't take it..., and it lets loose." Penny giggled. My kid sister put her fingers out to draw in my semen on the mirror. She drew a heart, with a `C' and a `P' inside, and an arrow through it. "I'm the heart," she said. "You're the arrow." I scratched my floppy damp cock. It did not look like much of an arrow at the moment. Well, that did save me from having to make good on the dangerous and deadly `stud service' department right then. She hung her hand over the edge of the bed and Patches slurped my splooge off her finger hungrily. Penny put her arms about me, pressing her small bare breasts against my belly. I stroked down her back and across her bouncy bottom, pulling her tight to my side, lying naked together, laughing again. It was time. Yours truly, JACOB ********** * * * <to be continued>