Date: Sat, 16 Jun 2012 08:15:05 -0400
From: Jacob Schwann <cobschwann@gmail.com>
Subject: 'Cob 'n Pen #09'{Jacob Schwann}(bi inc g-solo Bg cons)[9!24]

'Cob 'n Pen #09'{Jacob Schwann}(bi inc g-solo Bg cons)[9!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
cobschwann@gmail.com

A reminder, Nifty needs our donations to post the stories from all the authors.

********************

Cob `n Pen #09

Summary: A brother and sister, Jacob (Cobby) and Penelope (Penny), recall
their first times in the 1930's, by way of a patchwork of letters to a kind
doctor who helped them out of a jam. Vignettes in this episode: Remember
Me; Shower Letter; Sudden Powerful Feeling; Movies with Mickey.


>>>PENELOPE (Penny)
*
*
*
**********
Dear Uncle Doctor:
From: PENNY

REMEMBER ME
Shallow Lake, August, 1933

I was so mad!

Cobby was going away to Cainan Lake Camp again. When Old Aunt Elsa and
Cousin Max offered to send me, they could only send one of us, I said NO of
course. `Cause if I were the only one to go, I wouldn't go, since my
brother could not go with me. And in my view we had to be together. But
each year he up and went instead and left me alone any way. Boys! I was mad
he went and sad he wasn't with me. Girls! Oh well, so I was determined to
give him something to remember me by. After all we were growing up, he was
practically 13 and I'd be 11 in a couple of months.

It was a night or two before Cobby left for that third year at Camp
Cainan. We were still at the parsonage by the burned out church in Shallow
Lake, just before we were forced to move to Old Aunt Elsa's at Pike Lake
Crossroads, but we didn't know that yet. After dark our pup Patches and I
followed Cobby out into the side yard of the parsonage, where the glare of
the kitchen ceiling light made window squares on the grass. I watched
Cobby's muscley boy-back as he only had his pajama bottoms on. I loved
watching boys' backs! He undid the string tie and out popped his
thing. Right in front of me he did his business, he sighed, his piss arcing
yellow and streaming. I liked that actually. I wore his pj tops of course
and nothing else. So when Patches and I squatted right there to pee, I
exposed everything if my brother would only turn around and look. The
breeze felt good on my crease. Patches was in the way, so I tossed a stick
and she ran after it. Then Cobby did look over at me and down, his mouth
dropping and eyes widening. My brother stared at my exposed crotch. I hoped
it burned into his mind, my kitty-pen lips and butt cheeks. Some raw part
of me hoped to leave a lasting impression for him as he went off to camp. I
guess I wanted him to think about me, my vulva in fact, every time he
played with himself or thought naughty thoughts with all those other
kids. He stood dazed and maybe interested. I felt excited, especially with
the soft moist wind blowing on my legs.

Patches bounded to Cobby and licked at his groin just as he tied the pj
bottoms up. He wrestled with her and soon trotted back into the house
without a word.  I stayed where I was, thinking about the view I just gave
him. My mind wondered about my brother, how his back looked so strong and
what his penis, his `cock', must be like to make the piss go that far. I
felt my kitty-pen heat up and get wet. Patches came up behind me and
something warm and slick slid along the middle of my butt, then a lick
slithered right in my center. I enjoyed her cold nose and rough tongue
rummaging around down there.

"That isn't just for you any more, Patches," I whispered. "You're going to
have to share it!"


***
SHOWER LETTER

Once he left for camp, of course I found Cobby's secret letter to me where
he'd hidden it in the underwear drawer of the Grandmother Signet dresser
[Episode # 7]. I read it a thousand times at least, with my thumb in my
mouth sucking on it nervously.

My brother had written in his letter:

* "-You know how you joke about getting in the tub with me while Im in
it. Well this is me saying you are welcome to. If you want.

* "-Love ya

* "- your big brother Cob"

I kept thinking about the whole situation. Jacob was cute, there was no
denying it; boyish and slender, with smooth skin, blazing curly red hair, a
charming smile.  I just liked him, like any girl likes a boy. I didn't want
some illicit, illegal, immoral or immodest lustful relationship with my big
brother or anything. Well, maybe a little lustful. But not enough to bring
the Black Coat incest vigilantes down on our necks. I just wanted to be
close and cuddle with him like when we were little kids.  Like when we
snuggled with each other in bed when it was cold or there was a
thunderstorm. Or when we took baths together. `You rub my back and I'll rub
yours'. That kind of being close.

Thinking that way made me sparkle all over. I slowly slid a hand down
myself until I felt the waistband of my panties. I took a deep breath. Then
with one quick motion I slid my hand inside. I felt the mound between my
legs. I moved my hand lower until my finger found the lips of my little
vagina. The slit parted slightly when I started tracing up and down. It was
warm and my fingertips suddenly seemed wet and slippery.

I pulled my fingers out to examine them and they were damp with the
moisture and stained Cobby's shower letter. I put my hand back down there
and began exploring. The more I probed around in my panties the wetter I
became. Certain spots seemed to feel good. I told myself to stop, but it
felt too good. I just couldn't stop. I yanked my panties down to my ankles
and fell back on my big green bed. I opened my legs wide. I explored,
searching for the opening. I took one finger and slowly eased it into my
kitty-pen. It was so hot and wet inside. It felt weird at first but after a
few minutes felt wonderful. I rubbed myself faster and faster. I pictured
Cobby bare-chested taking a pee.

His letter said:

* "-I want to say how great a little sis you are. ...."

* "-I know I act like I dont but I do notice when you flirt. ...You always
forget something back in the room after you undress for bath.  I see you."

The faster I moved my finger in and out the better it felt. I was in
heaven. My heart was beating so fast and hard. I never imagined something
could feel so good.

He wrote:

* "-I thought about this stuff for the best part of the year ... I think we
can do this  ....

* "-... this is me saying you are welcome....

* "-Love ya

"I must not be doing this!" I scolded myself.

I felt it was wrong to be thinking of my brother this way. It could be
death if the Black Coat incest vigilantes found out. I vowed never, ever,
to act that way again.


***
SUDDEN POWERFUL FEELING

That resolve lasted about five minutes. It was hard not to think about my
older brother. He was not yet 13, with all his awkwardness, one moment
frisky and bumping into me, or certain parts of me, the next instant bored
and sullen. It wasn't just because I carried that photograph of him with me
everywhere I went, the one taken just before he left for camp with him at
the swimming hole about to leap off the high rock into the water. He looked
really good, freckly and strong and sexy and funny without his
trunks. Cobby was always skinny dipping in front of anyone. He would forget
other people might care and he just dove in. Everyone stopped to stare. He
was a well formed boy, anyone could see that. About the best in the school,
I thought. Well not really, for in truth there were other guys taller and
stronger and a lot tougher. But there was no boy cuter than Cobby, as the
picture showed, at least to me. Yet it was not just the photo, it was also
what was happening to me.

I was nearly 11, after all, and my body was `in bloom' as Old Aunt Elsa
said. She thought it was her primary duty to prepare me for a first sexual
experience. She gave me her ancient medical books on how to perform various
acts. She even had me finger myself so that I would bleed less when I
finally `did it' with a boy. My chests were starting to swell, becoming
little breasts before my eyes. The ring around my nipples had gone from
dime size to quarter size, and the center bud popped out. Every night for
bed I wore panties, usually, and Cobby's flannel pajama tops. I liked to
dance around my bedroom because the feel of the flannel on my nipples was
stirring. I tugged the tops off and pulled them back on so the fabric ran
over my chests once more. Yes, stirring indeed; my nipples swelled up like
pencil erasers! I looked in the mirror over the Grandmother Signet dresser
and they were bigger, my breasts were more seeable. They felt more squishy,
soft and swollen, not a handful yet, but someday....  I flicked my finger
over my nipples and was rewarded with an answering hot flash down in my
stomach. Now things were getting better and better.

I stripped to look at myself the way a boy might, the way Cobby might. Yes,
naked and slender as an Easter lily. I was pretty enough, with my dark
ox-eyes and coppery skin that looked so soft. Long curly black hair hung
over my shoulders. My stomach was getting flatter with all my swimming, and
my hips were more broad, and my ass looked cute, I thought. And my legs
were not so short, though I still was. I pushed my crotch forward to look
at it in the mirror. This was what Cobby saw in the side yard when I peed
in front of him. I felt a wave of excitement remembering how he had looked
at me. It made me smile. I already knew what boys wanted when they looked
at me like that.

"You like what you see?" I asked the mirror, smiling warmly.

I imagined Cobby squirming, his face reddening, the bulge in his pj bottoms
all too obvious, "Uh...," he'd say. "Whaja mean?"

I pulled the stuff on and climbed in bed. As usual, one hand found its way
inside my panties for my `bedtime story' as I called it. I ran my finger up
and down my kitty pen like I always did.  But now I also rubbed my little
breasts with my other hand. One hand gave me more tingly feelings and the
other warm and friendly feelings. Both of them built up together to a
general all over good feeling. But I had some understanding that the real
payoff was at the end. So I started to masturbate hard, rubbing the side of
my hand up and down my slit. Almost immediately the nice warm feelings
increased. The feeling kept building and building. When my finger tip
sought out my little nubbin I gasped. I found myself thrusting my hips
completely off the bed as I quivered in delight. Things just exploded. A
sudden powerful feeling, blossoming orange and maroon like a sunset. I
stopped in shock for a moment. Then ever so gently I brought it on again,
and again before I dozed off into the sweetest of dreams.


******
******
MOVIES WITH MICKEY
Mount Forest, August, 1933

Cobby told me before he left for his third year at Cainan Lake Camp, "Don't
take any wooden nickels: don't do anything stupid!"

They came to take our dad away to the asylum that summer. Our blithering,
amiable, handsome dad, crazy as a loon in a straightjacket.  This time mom
and I really had to leave the Shallow Lake parsonage where we'd been for
most of my life. We camped out at Old Aunt Elsa's and Cousin Max's place in
southern Grey County near Pike Lake Crossroads. They had a tiny bungalow
there that some niece had used as an art studio, cluttered with mirrors,
papers, chairs and easels, sketches and paintings. Before that it had been
a chicken coop, and before that for the hired man. Now it was our new
home. I was going into the 6th grade in Mount Forest and started practicing
diving with the swim team at the Old Drill Hall gymnasium.

I wrote a one line letter to Cobby that over the summer when he was at camp
I'd met `An Older Man'. I mean I was not even 11, and suddenly one Saturday
at the gym pool there was this gorgeous 9th grader watching me dive. He was
on the wrestling team, blond with dimples and the face of a baby, or a
devil maybe.  His boy's body bulged with muscles. He was not tall and
hulking, I don't mean that. But trim and smooth, beautifully balanced and
built, like a shorter swimmer or runner or a ballet dancer even. My dive
ended as a belly flop. When I surfaced he was gone. But following practice
he came after me on a bicycle with his angel face, his come-hither dimples
and the most mischievous snaggle-toothed grin you ever saw. He delivered
Western Union and wore a blue shirt with dark tie and cap, and trousers
tucked into his boots. I almost fell over, believing for a moment that he
had a telegram for me. But Mickey just wanted to talk.

"Come on with me to the movies," he said after a while, his striking eyes
sparkling.

It would be a couple of hours before I could get a ride back to the farm
with old Cousin Max, so I said, "Sure!"

The other girls called him `a jolly dog'.  We had watched the play of
muscle on his sturdy shoulders when the breeze flattened his thin shirt
against them.  They said he was 15 and already a legend. Half the girls
wanted to bed him, and all the boys wanted to be him. And Mickey was
wild. He got thrown out of every class he was ever in. He could not sit
still. Mickey pedaled his bike hard, all the time. He was always doing
wheelies and cutting out figure eights. He crossed his arms over his chest
and rode for hours without touching the handle bars. In the spring, he was
the first kid to ride his bike with no shirt on, and the last to cover up
in the fall. He was my kind of boy.

"Ya got the brother, right?" he asked out of the blue.

"Yeah. So?"

Mickey said he had seen Cobby at away athletic events the past spring.

"If he is your brother, I bet I'll like the looks of him," Mickey said.

Well, I liked the looks of my brother too, and said so! Cobby was my notion
of boy physical perfection, as a little kid and forever after. Yet Cobby,
even if two years younger than Mickey, was more drawn out, taller, sort of
stretched and stringy. My eyes looked up to Cobby's chest, while my eyes
looked level at Mickey's. Since everything was a silly game that day, I
told Mickey that Cobby looked at boys at least as much as girls, which was
true. I said I imagined Cobby looking at Micky's butt when Micky bent over
to tie his shoes at gym practice. Saying that really made Mickey laugh.

My going out with an admirer of Cobby's reminded me of what Old Aunt Elsa
Signet sang from Canticles of Cainan, 1: 7: "Please tell me, O brother whom
I love, where is your delight? Where do you lie down at noon? Where do you
graze your flock? For I am like one who turns aside and wanders as a
camp-follower to service the pleasure of your flock of companions."

You can imagine how special I felt going to a Saturday afternoon movie with
a big beautiful blonde boy. Mickey did a lot of exercise so his teen body
was ideal. I noted that he had big hands and feet, so I came to the
conclusion that his penis must be big. I was afraid to tell him the way I
felt and what my body wanted. His look penetrated right into me and was
very sexy, as all the girls said. When we made eye contact I felt
butterflies in my stomach and sort of swooned.

Mickey bought my ticket and cracked me a Bonomo turkish taffy and took me
up to the balcony of the `petting pantry', as our local movie theater was
known. We sat through King Kong which we'd both seen before, and during the
second show he snuck me back to an old couch out of sight behind the
projectionist's booth. Mickey got pretty hot from all the yells of the
audience and the screams of Fay Wray when King Kong tickled her boobies. I
felt his fingers working about me down there under my dress.

"Don't futz around!" I commanded as we wrestled on that stained and stinky
couch.

I gave tit for tat to this good-looking hunk whose strong hands were going
everywhere on me. Giggling and twisting, I stuck my hands all over him
right back which made him chuckle. It was fun to feel him. And
exciting. Mickey's muscles were round and smooth and hard. Yet no matter
how I wiggled, his fingers kept chasing me down, deeper. All of a sudden it
felt like an electric shock went through me as he touched through my
panties. I was out of control. I totally lost it and that sudden powerful
feeling, that surprise, surged over me and I must have grabbed him.

Of all things, one of Old Aunt Elsa's chants came back to me: "My love put
his hand in at my latch hole, and my heart turned over, my body thrilled at
his touch. His hand dripped with myrrh, my liquid myrrh running from the
handle of my latch. I opened to him." (Canticles of Cainain, 5: 4)

When I came out of it he was rubbing my nipples through my blouse and
kissing my face all over. I felt like a wet dish rag.  I tried to move but
I just lay still. He said I was a real woman, which made me feel like I was
a big girl. The light flickered over the crummy couch as the 4th reel
rolled on the arc-light projector. There was Mickey. He'd kicked his boots
and pants off and was just in his shirt and undershorts and socks. Great
Mother! I stared at his strong muscular legs. He was going through my
little purse, pulling out my few Kodaks and holding the snapshots up to the
light. He squinted real hard at some with us at the swimming hole early
that summer down from Old Aunt Elsa's place.

"Who's this?" he demanded in his friendly open way.

"My mum and dad," I said.

"They're lookers, aren't they!  But who's this?"

Mickey was pointing to the picture of my brother who was clowning on the
rock in all his naked glory with no swim trunks on.

"That's Cobby. He always skinny dips."

"Ahh..., for sure!"

"I thought you knew him. He's my big brother, Cobby or Jacob. He's at camp
and will be coming back to our new place. He'll be in 8th grade I guess."

Mickey studied the photo and rubbed a finger over it.

"Nice," he said.

Don't get me going talking about my favorite brother! After all, I was
still sweating from the finger workout Mickey had given me, and I just
gushed on about Jacob.

"He's turning 13. He goes right up the rope into the hay barn, so maybe
he'll do rope climbing in gymnastics."

"Well, your Jacob's a good-looking boy," Mickey kept saying. "He looks tall
for his years, just beginning to fill out." Then Mickey got a far away look
in his eye, "Maybe still a mite awkward. I bet your Jacob is likable with
his deep red hair you say, with a sprinkle of freckles across his upturned
nose, and his sweet face."

That was my Jacob all right.

Mickey almost whispered, "I wanna call you `Our Lil' Sis'!"

Mickey shoved that photo into his own breast pocket as he undid the last of
his shirt buttons. I just stared at him. I shut my eyes, not believing any
of this was real. When I opened them, I barely saw Mickey standing there in
the dim flickering arc light. He came over with a big grin and those
enticing dimples, his shirt gaping open, wide shouldered and padded with
muscles. He had no under pants on at all, with that pale area exposed below
his hard belly, and the beautiful wavy blond fuzz between his legs. Mother
of us all! It was very dark, but his giant thing hung there, the size of a
soda bottle. Not like daddy's maybe, nor as long as what I had seen of
Cobby's skinny one, but it was very fat and round and rising and he did
have a lot more hair around his cock.

Of all times, that old chant sang in my head: "Look! The lad wields his
dagger, expert in love. His sword stands out from his thighs, ready for
night action." (Canticles of Cainan, 3: 7-8)

I squinched my eyes shut again. I shook my head, NO!

"I'll wash it first if you want."

He went to the little sink to pee and wash it off, his superb back and butt
springing and sidling as he went. When he came back I wouldn't look at him.

"Please, you said you would!"

I did? Did I say that? I guess I did, when everything was going on down
below with his finger and all.

"Just lick it a little," he said urgently, "so you know its okay."

Mickey begged me. I saw the blood veins swelling on his mind-boggling thing
while he waved it in front of my face. He was desperate, pleading with
me. Then with my eyes shut, I stuck out my tongue. As I did he rubbed it
across my lips. I felt the sticky sweet juice on my mouth.  I was strangely
reminded of far away mornings with my daddy [Episode #3]. The flavor wasn't
so bad so I licked it more, a lot more. Mickey asked me to suck it. There
was nothing for me to do but open my mouth and find out what that was like.
I ran my tongue up and down the big top like he told me to. It was warm and
smooth like a plum. He went crazy, moaning and squirming. Then I parted my
lips like he said and he put the tip of it in my mouth, and he got me to
suck on it again. I went ahead and sucked on the top of it, pretending it
was my thumb, a big, big round velvety thumb.

"O-o-oh, but you're a real boy pleaser," he told me over and over between
his heavy breaths, and for some reason I really liked that.

I kept sucking on the top of his thing in the dark; doing it was somehow
making me feel all warm again, all tickly like with his fingers, deep down
inside my body. I peeked out through my eye lids, his gigantic man thing
right there, his golden fluff and belly and chest like some museum
painting, exquisitely muscled like a young colt, his blunt hands caressing
my hair about my ears, his face beatific, his eyes beseeching mine
gratefully. I came to my quiet surprise again, making me jerk all over. He
tried to push more in my mouth but the `hose' part was just too big; I just
kept licking the round, smooth top, the `nozzle' part.

He was whispering and murmuring, "Oh aww, aw yeah, ooh!  Ohaw, oh yeah,"
again and again.

When it happened it was my fault and not his, because when he said, "You
better stop. A little more and I'm done! Stop Lil' Sis!" I didn't.

He kept saying, "God help me Lil' Sis! Here comes a batch! Help me
Penelope!" like he was beyond help and frantic and the only escape was me.

When he got real quiet and groaned, "Here goes!" he was holding my head and
by then I couldn't get it away from me.

The tip of his thing seemed to swell inside my mouth. Then all at once his
body went stiff, as his big fleshy penis jerked two or three times. Before
I knew what to do it shot off in my mouth, big globs of sticky salty stuff,
and in that instant my already very full mouth was flooded with a warm
thick sweetly sour fluid. Again I thought of daddy, I didn't know why.

My eyes filled with tears and I made gagging sounds in my throat. Mickey
seemed to be choking and grunting too. I tried to swallow; there was so
much. I instinctively gulped it down as another strong burst of tart juice
jetted into my mouth. Some I swallowed, some ran out and down my chin. I
didn't think he would stop squirting in my mouth, so much stuff!

He pulled it out fighting for breath and prayed, "Holy Mary, Mother of God,
pray for me....  I know not what I do....  ...I'm so sorry....  That was so
good! Bless you Lil' Sis!"

His thing was large and purple, could his hand even close around it? It was
so big, and the thick white stuff oozed down over his fingers. He ran to
the sink, leaving me lying there in tears on the couch, with his dribbles
of slimy boy cream in my mouth. I can't even describe the feelings that I
was going through, as I lay there feeling weird because my brother's secret
admirer had just serviced my mouth like a young bull with his big fat
penis. I got so mad at him for making me lie there, with `it' in my mouth,
waiting for him somehow. I still gulped and gagged as I ran my tongue
about, working to scrape the buttery thickness from the roof of my
mouth. My mind raced, trying to decide what I thought of his taste. It was,
I decided, a mix of bitter and salty, not actually unpleasant. But, just
different. With its creamy texture, maybe a little chunky, and its warmth.

When he finally came back pulling his pants on and buttoning his shirt, I
opened my eyes and ran to the little sink with my back to him, not wanting
him to see me. I stood over the dirty bowl and tried to get it to run off
of my tongue but it wouldn't come out and I had to spit it out. Nobody told
me to spit it out, I just did. It was disgusting. And yet, I can't explain
it but all of a sudden I went warm all over deep inside again when I licked
him off my lips.

Mickey took me outside to the corner where Cousin Max would pick me up. He
was tender and his face looked at peace with relief and joy. He said I had
made him feel really, really good. I did not know what to say, but I guess
I wanted him to know that all in all I felt pretty good too.  I didn't care
for what I did, but I really liked the way I felt. Go figure. Girls!

Immense Cousin Max drove up in his produce delivery truck. He shook
Mickey's hand and told him to say hi to his mother. Waving goodbye, Mickey
again called me `Our Lil' Sis' and shared his wish that Jacob and I be very
happy together. I had no idea what he was talking about. Yet in some deep
way I guessed what he meant.


***

In the truck on the way back to Old Aunt Elsa's place by Pike Lake
Crossroads, Max said he didn't cotton much to those scurvy porridge eaters
from the wrong side of the tracks who were not of our Cainan Faith
Community.

"Well," Max rambled, "of course we're from the wrong side of the tracks as
well!"

But he knew that Mickey's mom made the finest soda bread which Max sold in
his market. They were good people. Max asked me the usual questions and
then answered them himself in a booming voice as was his way. I rested my
head against the truck window. Cousin Max gesticulated and carried on his
usual friendly one sided conversation. My crotch still had the most
pleasant glow from Mickey's finger and my surprises. I could still taste
Mickey on my lips – my mind did not like all that, but my body sure did.

I thought about the farm animals. I knew all about animals mating. I'd seen
dogs and cattle mating on their own, and when other farmers brought their
mares to mate with Cousin Max's big, prized stallion, or brought their
heifers to be impregnated by our bull. It was exciting to watch, and on
those nights that I had watched the mating, I was excited enough to
masturbate myself. I thought about those huge cocks of the male animals,
especially when I saw our stallion's cock erect and about 2 feet
long. Cousin Max, sometimes, had to help by taking it in his hand and
placing it against the mare's vulva, and the stallion drove it in. He
serviced her. As the truck bounced along the rutted road I secretly rubbed
my kitty place, which still tingled. I wondered what it would feel like to
have a hard cock like Mickey's or daddy's or Cobby's driven deep into my
vagina. Did the mare have orgasms? Did the stallion snort like he did
because he was cumming, and it felt good to him? I was suddenly ashamed to
imagine having sex with my father, and some boy, and especially with Cobby,
my older brother Jacob.

"I must not be doing this!" I yelled inside at myself.

But I never stopped rubbing myself.
Hugs and kisses, PENELOPE
**********
*
*
*

<to be continued>