Broken In By Brother

Description: A girl tells the story of her life in remote Wyoming, and how she and her brother learned about life and having babies together. Mom and Dad discover their relationship and while trying to discourage it get drawn in.



Most people would think it was odd for a boy to be ramming his big hard prick into his little sister’s sopping pussy until he fountained his sperm into her unprotected womb.

But I didn’t.

You see, I was that sister. Let me tell you the story, and then maybe you’ll understand.

In 1954, our parents lived on a small farm in Wyoming, and our closest neighbors were 40 miles away. Daddy raised horses and sheep. Momma kept some chickens and a huge garden that produced most of the food we ate all year long. We also had a milk cow and there were wild cattle around. Daddy said they were left over from the wild west days. Every once in a while he’d shoot one and drag it in with a team of horses and we’d butcher it. Our days were full of making that farm work.

Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that our family was the whole world to Bobby and me. We were home schooled and, other than visitors who came to the farm, we never saw another soul. I didn’t even know such a thing as TV existed until I was seventeen and went on a trip to visit my Aunt Betty and Uncle Bob, who my brother was named after.

Anyway, Bobby and I were each other’s playmates, friends, everything to each other as we grew up. He was a year older than me. My first memories were of him, holding me with his arms around me, up on top of a horse as we followed our father somewhere. It was bouncy and exciting, but warm and safe at the same time.

Most of my other memories of being young also include Bobby. We helped on the farm too. We didn’t think of it as work. It was just our life, and we did everything together. We even slept together.

Our bedroom was up in the attic of the little house we lived in, and there was a home-made bed in there. It was too small to put two regular beds in, so Daddy made a bed that was custom fit into one end of the room. It was smaller than what would be called a queen bed today, but bigger than a double. I know it seemed like acres big to us as we jumped and bounced on it when we were little. But when it came time to sleep we were invariably snuggled up together, like puppies, sharing each other’s warmth and that nice feeling of being next to somebody.

Our parents weren’t too shy about their lovemaking. In the evening, when all the work was done and we were all gathered in the main room, reading or playing games or whatever, mom and dad would start smooching, and pretty soon he’d have his hands all over her, and begin taking parts of her clothing off. Usually they would get up and go to their bedroom, telling us kids they were going to “have a conference” and for us not to bother them. They did that a lot as we got older – having conferences I mean – but when I was seven or eight I remember several times when daddy would get momma all naked and then get on top of her on the couch. The only reason I paid any real attention was because of the sounds they made. I mean Bobby and I lay in bed naked together all the time, right? Lying around naked was no real surprise. But momma would start moaning, and then they looked like they were wrestling or something. Eventually momma would scream and wrap her legs around daddy’s waist while he yelled too.

I remember one night after this happened and Bobby and I sat there watching them and looking at each other like “What in the world are they doing?”

I asked Bobby “Hey, why do you think daddy kept talking about coming somewhere? How can you come when you’re already there?”

He said he didn’t know, and that he was tired and wanted to go to sleep so would I please shut up.

Six months later when they did that again, on the couch, as poppa rolled on top of her I saw that his penis was hard and sticking out from his body. That was different. I’d seen his and Bobby’s penises plenty of times, but never looking like that. So I watched carefully and suddenly realized they were doing what the horses did every spring. They were mating!

I got all excited and ran over to them yelling about how I wanted a little sister, or I was going to have a little sister or something like that. They started laughing and both of them put their arms around me and crushed me to them as daddy yelled some more about coming. Momma had big tears in her eyes and I asked her if she was OK and they laughed again.

It was after that that they pretty much went to their room every time poppa started taking her clothes off. They kept smooching in front of us though.

When I was twelve, I got into bed one night in the fall and Bobby and I started talking. We usually did that as we went to sleep – just talked about the day, or what we were going to do tomorrow, or about a book one of us was reading or something. But this night, Bobby said, “Rachel? Why do you suppose they kiss so much?”

I knew what he meant. Poppa and Momma were always kissing and running their hands all over each other’s bodies.

“I don’t know,” I said.

Then he put his arm over me and said, “You wanna try it? I mean the way they do? You know, see what it’s like?”

I said, “Sure,” and the next thing I knew his lips came up against mine and stayed there. It was OK, but our noses kept getting in the way. It was hard to breathe too. But we worked hard at it, trying to figure out why they did it so much. Then, when I couldn’t breathe one time, I opened my mouth to tell him I couldn’t breathe and my tongue touched his lips.

He jerked back from me as I gasped in air and said, “You licked me!” I said as how I had NOT licked him, but was just trying to breathe but he said “No, it felt good. Do it again.”

So we kissed and I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out and then he did too and … oh my goodness. What a difference.

In that instant we both knew exactly why our parents did that so much. We did it for half an hour that night, and every night after that. We still talked, but we kissed a lot too. I don’t know why we didn’t do it in the daytime. I guess since we discovered it in bed we just saved it for bedtime.

We had taken baths together until I was maybe ten or eleven. We didn’t stop because of the boy/girl thing, but because we wouldn’t fit into the tub together comfortably any more. After that one of us would sit on the commode while the other one bathed, and then we’d switch. One day, about a month after my thirteenth birthday, I took my bath and then sat on the commode, naked of course, running my hands through my long blonde hair, getting the snarls out while Bobby took his bath and we talked.

Suddenly he said, “Hey! You’re growing hair!”

I looked at him and he was staring between my legs. My knees were maybe a foot apart. I spread them further and looked and said, “So? You have it too.”

He said, “Yeah, but I never noticed it on you before. Then he looked at me sort of strange and said, “And your boobs are bigger too.” I looked down at them. They had been growing pretty well for a couple of years and now they stood out six or eight inches from my chest. They didn’t look like mamma’s. Hers were all full and heavy looking, like the udder of Bessie, our milk cow. Mine didn’t look anything like that. They were cones, with pointed tips. The nipples were kind of puffy and round looking, like somebody had cut a golf ball in half and pasted them to the tips of my breasts. I wasn’t much impressed with them, but they were all I had.

“You think so?” I said. “I don’t think they’re growing very fast at all.”

He allowed as how they were lots bigger than the last time he saw them, which was stupid, since he’d seen them the night before when we got in bed. I told him so. Then he smiled and said one was bigger than the other and that if that kept up pretty soon I’d be leaning over sideways all the time. He thought that was oh so clever and laughed, but it made me mad. We got in a yelling match. About the time I yelled that he was just plain stupid and to quit looking at me, momma came in and broke us up. She saw me there, comb in hand, naked, sitting on the toilet seat while my brother, wet and soapy yelled at me. She barked at us to break it up and we scowled at each other as he dried off and I finished my hair.

That night though, as we kissed each other good night, Bobby’s hand wandered up and over one of my breasts. It tingled when he touched it, especially the nipple, and I was surprised. I mean we’d been touching each other for over a decade, but this felt different … nicer somehow. It made me want to slide my hands all over his back. So I did. I discovered his butt is like ROCK!

The next night at supper my dad looked at my mom and then sort of cleared his throat and said, “Well, I guess I’d better be thinking about building on to the house.” Just like that. Then he went back to eating.

Bobby and I were astonished. We looked at each other and shrugged.

“Why?” I finally asked.

Now HE looked surprised for some reason. “Well, you and Bobby are getting all grown up and I figured you might want your own room now.” He looked at my mother like “What have you gotten me into here?”

I said, “Why would I need my own room?”

Momma said, “So you have some privacy, honey. Don’t you want privacy?”

Now I was confused. I’d spent every day of my life in the presence of other people. The only time I’d ever been alone was when I was working on a job that didn’t take more than one family member to complete. Alone was fine. It gave me time to think about things without being interrupted, but why would I want to be alone in a room of my own? All the time? At night? That would just be lonely, not alone. I said so.

Now my mother looked astonished. “You don’t mind sleeping with your brother?”

I said, “Of course not. How else would I keep warm? And who would I talk to as I go to sleep?”

Bobby was sitting there, his head turning from side to side as he looked at whoever was speaking. His eyes were real big and he looked like he was holding his breath or something.

My daddy looked at momma and said, “What the hell am I supposed to do now, Molly?”

She looked stunned and said, “I guess I was wrong.”

So, from then until I turned fifteen things went on as usual. Bobby and I would cuddle and kiss in bed and run our hands all over each other’s bodies each night as we went to sleep.

In the summers, when it got warm, and the days were done. I usually just wore one of my poppa’s old work shirts after dinner. All we did was sit around the main room. I didn’t need shoes or anything, so the shirt was all I wore. I found out later in life that other girls wore panties, but none of the women in our house did. I didn’t even own a pair until my Aunt Betty took me shopping during a visit to her house when I was seventeen. Anyway, in the summer I was fifteen I was sitting on the couch, reading a book, dressed in one of poppa’s old shirts. I had grown some, and this particular shirt, which was my favorite because it was so thin and soft, was getting a little small on me and my pussy was showing. Of course I didn’t think a thing about it, but my daddy kept looking at me and he nudged my mother and whispered in her ear. She giggled and they started that kissing and fondling that Bobby and I knew would lead to a conference before long. But this time momma slapped his hands away from her and said, “Quit. You have no shame.”

Then she got up and said, “Rachel? It’s about time I taught you to sew.” That was OK with me. Momma did most all her sewing during the day while the rest of us were out doing chores. So I’d never been there to watch as she did amazing things with needle and thread. She made most of our clothes. So I said, “Great, I need a new pair of britches, with built in chaps.”

My father started laughing so hard he rolled off the couch and onto the floor. He was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. My mother just looked disgusted. “First, dear, we’re going to make you a nightgown.”

A nightgown! Now why in the world would I want a nightgown? Momma had one. She wore it when the weather got cool. When it was really cold we all wore pants and sweaters until it was time for bed. But momma liked to wear that nightgown around after supper. It looked nice, I supposed, and it would keep you warm if it wasn’t too cold, but now? In summer? I thought that was goofy. I said so.

My mother just said, “Well, we’re going to make you one young lady, so get used to the idea.”

So we made me a nightgown. Mamma rooted around in her stash of cloth and started muttering about nothing being big enough. Finally she came out with some old curtains that she thought she could make work. They were dark brown, but I didn’t care what color the thing would be anyway. We cut and measured and she showed me how to sew a seam on the old treadle machine she had and pretty soon we had what looked like a dress to me. When I slipped it over my head it hung down clear to my ankles. It was warm, all right. Inside of ten minutes I was dragging it back off, sweating. My mom threw up her hands and the nightgown got hung on a hook for the rest of the summer. I did use it in the fall though, and it was nice.

Bobby had been real interested in how well the hair was growing on my pussy since that night in the bathroom. He liked to examine me when we bathed … “to see how you’re coming along”. He had a lot of hair around his penis and sometimes I was a little jealous. Anyway, I got thrown from a horse we were gentling and had sprained my shoulder. So that night, in the bathroom, I asked him to wash my body for me, so I didn’t have to move around too much. I got up on my knees in the tub and he started splashing water on me. Then he got his hands soapy and washed me all over. When he got to my butt he slipped his hand between my legs and washed there too.

Wow! That felt different.

Then he moved to the front and slid his soapy hand between my legs again. It sure felt different than when I washed there. I mean, when I did it, it felt good. I’d sort of gotten in the habit of washing there really, really good. I might wash there for ten minutes while I talked to Bobby. But when he did it, it made a strange tightness in my stomach, and then heat. I felt something happen inside my body and that heat started moving! It was like something had spilled inside me and was going to seep out from between my legs. I was in the bath, though, so I couldn’t tell what happened.

Sometimes, when we got into bed he’d look me over real good. It made me feel all warm inside, because he usually said something about how I was pretty. Then we’d settle down to some serious kissing and rubbing. He’d never rubbed my pussy before. So that night, when we were kissing, I told him about how nice it had felt when his hand was between my legs and asked him to rub there again. His hand slipped between my legs.

“Your hair is soft,” he murmured in my ear.

I spread my legs. He rubbed some more and I felt that strange heat inside me again. I told him about it and he gasped. “You’re getting wet down there!” he said. “Are you peeing?!” he asked incredulously.

“Of course not,” I said crossly. “Why would I pee on your hand, you idiot?”

“Well it’s wet,” he said. He moved his fingers around and now they slipped back and forth like when his hands were all soapy. “And slick too.” He rubbed some more and one of his fingers just naturally fell inside the furrow I had down there. It rubbed over a bump at the top of my slit and I felt a little electric tingle shoot through me.

“Oooo wait!” I said.

His hand stopped.

“No, I don’t mean stop!” I barked. “I mean wait, right there.” My hand went down to his and I pressed on that finger. Then I guided his hand back and forth, making that finger rub the bump. I started panting. This felt REALLY good. “Feel that bump? It feels REALLY good when you rub that.”

So he started rubbing it some more. Pretty soon I was flopped on my back, spread eagle, whimpering and thrashing as he finger-fucked me but good. I don’t remember too much about that first orgasm. Except that Bobby was making me feel so good, so special, I knew I would love him forever. I told him so. And my shoulder didn’t even hurt!

I know he was worried that he’d hurt me. After I had that good feeling he was leaning over me, whispering, “Are you OK? Rachel? Please say something.”

I couldn’t, because I was breathing too hard, but I put a hand up, with one finger to his lips and nodded. Eventually I was able to tell him what had happened. Or at least what I’d felt. We didn’t exactly KNOW what had happened right then. But I knew I wanted it to happen again. He allowed as how it might not be a good idea to go through that again right away. So we kissed some more and drifted off to sleep.

Well, that meant that every night I had to get him to rub me, after that. He didn’t mind. We found out that if we were kissing while he rubbed that I could get that special feeling pretty quickly. And more than once a night!

Then one night, in the bathroom, after I was done and Bobby was in the tub, I was sitting there, idly stroking my bump when Bobby said, “Hey!” He had a funny look on his face and he stood up in the tub, saying, “Look at this!”

His penis was hard! And I mean HARD. It was sort of like that in the mornings when he first got up, but as soon as he peed it went back to looking normal again.

I said, “You need me to move? You have to pee?”

He shook his head and said, “No, I was just watching you play with yourself and it got hard.” His hand went around it. It fit like it was made for that. He stroked it and then said, “Wow, that feels really good.” So he kept stroking it and pretty soon he got this wild eyed look and he was grunting and his knees bent and suddenly a long ropey looking stream of white stuff shot out of his penis! It landed right on my stomach and the hand I was stroking myself with.

Then, just as I registered that this stuff was hot, his penis spat again, TWICE! Those were weaker, though, and didn’t get on me. I knew he wasn’t peeing. I’d seen both him and poppa pee plenty of times. This was different, and I thought about how when he played with me I got wet, and that maybe this was the same thing. I told him so. But he had to sit down once his penis stopped leaking and I don’t know if he heard me really or not.

When we got into bed that night he rubbed me, like usual, and I got off. Then I asked him if he wanted me to rub him, but he said it was sore, a little, and he was worried that he’d hurt it or something.

But the next night it was OK, and when I put my hand on it, it got stiff again. I wanted to look at it, so he lay on his back and spread his legs, while I got down there and examined this new toy. I stroked it a few times, like he had and he sighed, saying it felt so good.

“It looks a little like one of Bessie’s teats,” I said. Then I remembered a time, when I was very little. My poppa and I had been in the barn and he was milking Bessie. He told me to sit down beside him – I had to be only four or five at the time. He told me to open my mouth and when I did, he aimed one of Bessie’s teats at it and squeezed a shot of milk straight into my mouth. I had spluttered and choked a little, but then I thought it was cool.

I’d forgotten all about that.

I remembered it had tasted good. And it had been warm. Like the stuff Bobby had shot on my stomach.

I think it was that memory that made me do it. I would never have thought of doing anything like it otherwise, I’m sure. But, looking at Bobby’s “teat” I just got the urge to put my mouth on it.

When I did I thought he’d had some kind of attack. He started thrashing around on the bed and his hips bounced up off the sheet and something warm and wet filled my mouth. I swallowed, more out of self defense than because I wanted to, but then, after I got some room in my mouth and could taste it, it wasn’t bad at all. It wasn’t as sweet as Bessie’s milk, and it was thicker, but it tasted pretty good. Plus it was a lot less messy than just letting it spew everywhere.

In the fall when I was sixteen, something happened that changed a lot of things. It was cool and I’d been wearing my nightgown, which was pretty soft by then. But when it was time to go to bed Bobby wanted me to take it off. We did all our kissing and masturbating naked, and it always felt really good to rub up against each other naked, so I didn’t mind taking it off at all. But I burrowed down under the covers and up against Bobby to keep warm. In the process of kissing he rolled half on top of me. Then he got all the way on top of me. We were kissing and rubbing together. His peter was digging into my pussy as he squirmed around on top of me. It was all hard and I hadn’t sucked the stuff out of it yet. We’d had an accident several weeks before, when we’d been doing pretty much the same thing as now. One minute he’d been rubbing his penis all over my stomach and the next it was shooting sticky white sperm all over my pussy and stomach.

What a mess!

I told him so too. I told him the next time he’d better tell me about it so I could get my mouth on him. We’d had to change the sheets and I got cold and was grumpy for two days.

So anyway, this time he started huffing and puffing and I asked him if he was about to shoot. He said, “Yeah,” all dreamy like and I started pushing on him to get him off me so I could catch the good stuff in my mouth. But he wanted to keep rubbing and between him lunging at me and me pushing him away, somehow his penis slid right inside me!

Now we knew how animals mated. And I’d seen my momma and daddy mating that one time. But we hadn’t ever thought about doing it ourselves. I mean brothers and sisters don’t have babies together, right? Everybody knows that. So, while we did everything else in the world, we never thought about fucking. But when his nasty old boner slid up inside my poor pussy, and my poor pussy just flat LOVED it, I didn’t know what to do. Then, to top it off, he groaned and his prick swelled up and started shooting like crazy.

I was thanking my lucky stars that it all went up inside me, because as much as he was shooting we would have had to change the sheets again.

To this day I don’t know why I never thought about the possibility that my brother had just fucked a baby into my belly. Now that I think back on it, I suspect that I assumed you didn’t have a baby unless you TRIED to have a baby. I mean, back then, girls like me thought you had to DECIDE to get pregnant, and then you did something that MADE you pregnant, and you told everyone you were going to have one, and later you did. I know how stupid that sounds now, but back then … well, maybe I WAS stupid.

Of course we both loved it. And, of course we both adopted that as one of the things we did every night after that. If my brother didn’t poke his big old hard cock up my pussy and fill it up with brother butter every night then it was because either he was sick, or I was. That’s why we got caught.

I remember I had just gotten out of the bathtub one night and had sat down on the stool to comb my hair. Bobby was about to get in, and he got distracted because my legs were spread. He loved to look at my pussy, and play with it and lick it and then poke his prod in it.

Anyway, the only place we’d ever done that was in bed, just before we went to sleep. Don’t ask me why, but we never did it while we were doing chores or whatever. But this night Bobby got to looking at my pussy and he got all hard and he asked if he could put it in me right there in the bathroom. Well, we tried with me sitting on the toilet, but that hurt his knees. He tried lying down on the edge of the tub while I straddled him, but that hurt his back. He wanted me to lie down on the floor, but the tile was cold.

So then he got the idea of trying to do it standing up. He pushed me up against the wall and I lifted a leg. He had to stoop to get in me. He’d grown about four inches in the last three months and was now two or three inches taller than me. So he got it in me and then just stood up. That lifted me off the floor. That put the most wonderful pressure on my poor clitty. And then he started bouncing me up and down. We didn’t know it but I was banging into the wall and shaking the whole house.

So, when my mother barged in the bathroom door, her astonished eyes were met with her son, balls deep in her daughter, who was impaled helplessly, feet off the floor, as her son’s thick white spooge ran down my legs, seeing as how he’d just pumped a cupful in me.

She noticed the fact that I wasn’t yelling and hitting him. Of course the other fact that I was cooing, “Oh yeah, Bobby, squirt that beautiful stuff up in me,” might have had something to do with her arriving at the conclusion that we were both involved in this activity of our own free wills.

First she got all pale. As I recall it now, that was probably because she, of all people in the house, knew exactly how dangerous it was that there was sticky silver sperm flowing out of my pussy. Then, as Bobby stepped back and his big old boner slithered out of me with a squelch, she got sort of red in the face. I do remember her saying, “Now you two stop that RIGHT NOW!” and then she just turned around and left. I looked at him and he looked at me and we just shrugged. You have to remember that we didn’t actually know we were doing anything wrong. Not then, anyway.

But we figured it out when Daddy walked into our bedroom and told Bobby to go see his mother. I’d seen Daddy mad a time or two, and he was pissed. I had been about to get in bed, so I was naked. Daddy had on some shorts. He came right out with it. “Your ma says you and Bobby were having sex in the bathroom.”

I thought about that. You know how sometimes you can’t see the forest for the trees? It was like that. Here we’d been doing this fun and wonderful thing for months and months but it had never clicked that we were “having sex”. We were just doing something that felt good. Really good. But when Daddy said that, I understood. “Um … yessir,” I said.

He frowned. Maybe he expected me to argue. “And she says he came in you.”

There was that strange way of talking again. “Well, we were there together. I mean we came there together, so I guess so.” I was trying to have a conversation, but I didn’t know what I was talking about. My poppa was a smart man, though and he figured out that I didn’t understand.

“What I mean is that he put his seed inside you,” he said.

I couldn’t help it. I looked down at my pussy, expecting corn or wheat or something to pour out. I was confused. It must have showed. Daddy rolled his eyes.

“His penis shot white stuff inside you,” he said with a sigh.

I brightened. This I understood. “Oh yes. That’s our favorite part.”

He smiled and then tried to look stern. “You aren’t supposed to do that with your brother.”

“How come daddy? It’s fun. It keeps us warm. We don’t fight about much any more.”

“Well, for one thing he might get a baby in you,” Daddy said softly.

I just looked at him. A baby! Remember the forest for the trees? Yup, it all came clear. We had been mating. That’s what the animals did to have young. But wait! “You and Momma do it and she doesn’t have any babies.”

His eyes got big. “Well, yeah, but … see it’s all in the timing … man, your momma should have had a talk with you a long time ago.” He was getting frustrated. “Your brother shouldn’t want to do that with you,” he said angrily.

“How come?” I asked. “You do.” I pointed.

There was a tent in his shorts. I knew exactly what caused that tent. I saw it on Bobby a lot. Bobby had one every time he wanted to put his penis in me and shoot what Poppa had called his seed.

He looked down and gasped. Then he looked up at me and his eyes had a sort of haunted look in them. “Oh baby, I’m sorry,” he said miserably.

“What for?” Now I was really confused. Bobby got a hard on when he wanted to have sex with me. Now Daddy had one too, so he must want to have sex with me too. OK. I liked Bobby and I loved my daddy, so what was the problem? I told him so.

He got this funny look on his face and said, “So, if I wanted you to lay down on that bed and spread your legs for me … you would?”

“Sure,” I said. “That would be fun. I’ve wondered what it would feel like to have a different one in me.”

Which is how I ended up flat on my back while my daddy, with his MUCH bigger penis, prodded me very nicely. I got my good feeling twice in a row with a daddy-pecker in me. His cock was bigger around than Bobby’s, but not as long. It was all knobby too, and it scraped around inside me in the nicest way. But soon enough his penis did just exactly what Bobby’s always had. It swelled up and began making my pussy all warm and wet inside. Daddy said he was coming right before he did that, and I finally understood what he meant by that. It meant his stuff was coming to be inside my pussy! He came a lot too.

Well then he was all teary eyed and saying he was sorry and that we had to go talk to Momma about this. He struggled back into his shorts and told me to put on my nightgown and then we went through the living room to the other side of the house, where their bedroom was. Daddy pushed open the door and then stopped like he’d been hit by a truck. There, on the bed, Momma was laying naked on her back. Her legs were spread wide and there, between them, mating her like crazy, was Bobby. Momma was having a pretty good time. Of course I knew why. Bobby was pretty good with that slab of meat that hung between his legs. It was long and once it was inside you it poked just about up to your stomach if he got it angled just right. Momma’s hands were hitting the bed beside them, and her head was flailing from side to side. She was obviously having her good feeling too.

Then Bobby grunted and started making sounds I knew all too well. He jammed his pecker way up inside her and stopped still. Momma’s eyes snapped open and she said, “No, Bobby … not inside me honey … I’m not safe.” She obviously didn’t understand. Once Bobby got to where he was, he stayed there until he was all emptied out. If it was in your mouth, you’d better keep it there. If it was in your pussy, same thing. Otherwise you were going to have to change the sheets.

Well, of course I understand all of this now that I’m older. And now that our sexual education got caught up. We learned about Pandora’s box after that. It got to be a code word between all of us. Somebody would say, “Its time to open Pandoraĺs box,” and in two shakes there’d be four naked people just having sex like all get out. Sometimes it was Daddy and me. Sometimes it was Bobby and me. Sometimes they’d take turns and both of them would spread their seed. Once I found out about how dangerous it was I just sort of gave up and assumed I’d be having a baby pretty soon. I wasn’t about to stop doing the most fun thing in the world.

I was right too. It wasn’t two months later that I started missing periods. I didn’t mind that one bit, I’ll tell you that. And it felt good to have something alive inside me all the time. True, I didn’t know if it was Bobby’s or Daddy’s, but that part didn’t really matter. It was mine, after all, and I loved it. Along about the eighth and ninth months, I cursed it some, and Daddy and Bobby too. But I had some support from Momma. Her belly swelled right along with mine. It was so strange to think about me having a baby sister or brother seventeen years younger than me! And it would grow up with my own baby!

So, now you understand the importance of a good education. Because Bobby and I didn’t get ALL the facts when we were young, we embarked on a road that led us places most folks don’t want to go. And if they knew the real parents of my precious Elizabeth, they’d frown and harrumph and say how wrong it was.

They can just think that all they want. I have better things to do. Elizabeth will have a brother or sister in a couple of months and I want to be ready. Then, I think maybe I’ll just start all over again.


The author does not condone child abuse or incest, this story is meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in real life.

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