Copyright, 2012, Patricia Steel ([email protected])

Do whatever you want with this story, only keep my name attached, please. Please report any and all orgasms arrived at through reading and masturbating to these words. I love knowing that I am deliberately manipulating your mind into an erotic state. This story is to be considered “Fiction” although it has its basis in “Fact”. This is not to be considered a true tale of underage sex, statutory rape, or molestation, as these events happened more than a quarter century ago. Some of the principal parties are no longer living. The only reason I’m telling you that it has its basis in truth, is it might make it all the more sexy for you, and maybe make your orgasms better/stronger/faster. Thank you, and enjoy.

Part 1

Ronnie was considered a handsome boy, that’s for certain. All of the girls fawned over him. Whenever he was around, he had his posse of teenie-boppers hanging around him. I should know; I was one of them. Mullets were the style in those days, and he had a nice one, down to his shoulder-blades. Once in a while, when it was late at night, and he was sitting on my grandparent’s back porch, drinking a beer, he’d let me run my fingers through it. It was silky and soft, and felt like sex, I thought — what did I know about sex?? I was 14, and even though my younger sister was no longer a virgin, and my older sister was virtually a slut by that time, me, well, I was uncharted territory, and although I didn’t realize it, I was setting my sights on Ronnie.

My Grandparents owned an old cabin up in the northern tier counties of Pennsylvania. It was a real “cabin”: no running water, which meant no indoor toilet, no electricity, and we cooked by fire in one of the stoves.

There were 2 bedrooms, but they were occupied by my parents, and grandparents, and, on occasion, my sisters would sleep on the floor in my parents’ room. This left my brother and me to sleep out in the living room with whatever of the “cousins” might be along for the week. I used to love when Ronnie would come along. There was a “fold down” sofa — rather like the futons of today, and Ronnie would take the front, and I’d take the back, and I’d snuggle right up next to his back, as he’d always sleep facing away from me. Oh how many nights I wished he’d turn towards me, lying there in the pitch black, feeling him close to me. I never felt my feelings were “wrong” actually… he wasn’t a “close cousin” — in fact, I didn’t even know how we were related, really. My Grandmother just told me once that he was “a second cousin”, and that, as far as I was concerned made him “fair game”. The fact that he was 6 years older than me didn’t seem like much of a big deal to me at the time, and to be truthful, it never has since.

Besides, I had read “flowers in the attic” — If a brother and sister could fall in love, why not 2 “second cousins”?? Then one night, I guess the heat got the best of Ronnie, and he just couldn’t sleep, or something, because at last, he turned towards me. I was pretty much fully-developed as far as my breasts were concerned at that age, and he took his left arm, and put it in under my body, holding me, and my big breasts close to his bare chest. I wished I could sleep bare-chested like the guys… Oh how I’d love to feel his chest against my bare breast right now… With his right hand, he slowly rubbed my crotch through my sweat-pants, and oh, how I wanted to feel his touch inside those pants, and just as I thought that, he slid his hand inside the elastic waist of the sweats, and started rubbing what I later learned was my clitoris.

OH DEAR GOD, that felt sooo good. I grabbed hold of his shoulder, and drew him even nearer to me. He kept rubbing and rubbing that “special spot” that I never even knew I had before, and then, he slipped one finger, and one only, into me… OH DEAR GOD, something else that felt like heaven also… I was actually grinding against his hand… This went on for some minutes, but I did not reach orgasm, sadly…. and he whispered in my ear “See, don’t you like this?? don’t this feel good??” But he was still manipulating me, and I could not manage an answer for him, other than to grip hold of him tighter and tighter.. Soon, he stopped, and I think, he jacked himself off, and went to sleep, finally relaxed, and happy with himself. I just wrapped one of my arms around his chest, and fell asleep holding him close to me. With the first sound of my grandmother coming downstairs, I let go of him, and got up with her, to help with the breakfast. I hoped that the next night would be the same, or better, with my beautiful Ronnie.

We were spending a lot of that summer working on the old cabin. Making it more fit for human habitation. Fixing windows, sealing them up against the weather, doors, the same. Making repairs to the plank and furl siding on the outside, and the planks on the interior, which served as inside walls, and some insulation. My Grandmother and I, mostly got all the food together for the hungry crew 3 meals a day, while the rest worked on various projects around the cabin. Oh how I loved seeing my pretty Ronnie work during the day with no shirt on. Even better did I love the scent of him lying next to me at night, all sweaty from a hard day’s work, and no shower. The guys would walk down to the creek to wash up every morning, before they’d start work, but at night, they were au’ natural, and Ronnie, being just in his early 20’s didn’t smell rank — he smelled sweet — kinda like a horse after a summertime ride.

That night, he just waited until he thought everyone was asleep, and then he turned to me. I quickly pulled the shirt off over my head.. this time I was gonna feel his bare chest against mine, and I pulled him close to me, with a whispered groan into his ear… He didn’t have to ask permission to do anything tonight. As his hand traveled down my tummy to my waistband, my legs automatically opened for him, and he found a much easier access to my crotch, where he played with me again, seemingly for hours, although I know it wasn’t that long. My heavy breathing and whispered moans told him he was doing well, and what I liked. Soon, he had 3 of his fingers inside my virgin hole. There was a little blood on my panties the next morning, and yet I knew it wasn’t my “time” I reckoned that was due to those three fingers. I think that night I technically lost my virginity to those three fingers…. but oh did those three finger feel good. His constant pressure and rubbing of my clitoris was sooo heavenly, also. I started to feel very strange, and, while this strange feeling went away, when Ronnie stopped, I didn’t want it to. No, I felt as if it was just a “part” of yet another feeling, still to come.

Ronnie rolled back over, away from me, and I could feel him rubbing himself, furiously. I took my hand, and followed his left arm inside his pants, to the hard, hot thing I knew I’d find there. I’d seen my dad, many times, and I’d caught my brother doing just what Ronnie was doing now, both indoors and outdoors, and I never told him. I just stood there silently and watched how such a thing operated… how it love to be rubbed an rubbed, until it shot white yuck out of its tip like a canon blast, all over whatever was in front of it. I’d also seen my brother’s “magazines” where the women would accept these blasts in their mouths, and swallow them right down. I longed to taste and swallow Ronnie’s cannon blast, right about now.

I grabbed hold of his hardness and began massaging it, in and out, just like I’d seen my brother Jim do it himself over the last few years. I could hear Ronnie make little whimpering noises, and a few low, almost silent moans. I could feel the heat build against my breasts, as Ronnie heated up before his own Canon-blast. Suddenly, he flipped over on his other side, facing me once again… He quickly opened his jeans, to give me better access, and just uttered the word, in the most pitiful of voices, “Please”. I started really stroking and stroking him, harder and harder, now using both of my small hands, on his long, thick harness. Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around me, and held me tight to his chest….

I could feel buckets full of his oooze shooting all over my belly, and my sweat pants. He was now pumping into my hands, which I held stiff for him to do as he pleased, which he did. Finally, I moved my hands free of his shrinking pipe, and brought one hand around the back of his opened jeans…. I wanted to feel his ass, which always looked so cute in jeans, working around the cabin each day…. I slipped a “gunk covered finger” in between his asscheeks, and into his rectum, just to see how he’d like it — evidently, he loved it, and another wave of goop came splurging out of his monster onto my belly.. “Oh my, this man has been saving up a lot of this white, sticky yuck… I do have to taste it, though…” so, taking my other hand, which was equally full of the stuff, I took it up to my mouth, and began to lick it off. Ronnie whimpered like an injured puppy at the sight of what I was doing. My pretty Ronnie tasted of Salt, and Hay, and Summertime, and even a little bit of Beer. All these tastes together. He held me close for the longest while, my bare breasts close to his sweet-horse smellin’ boy body, until finally, he reached behind him onto the floor, found his old sleeveless flanell, wiped himself off, as best he could, then sat up at the edge of the bed, and handing me the shirt, he said “Clean yourself up real good, now, Tina.. We don’t want anyone who wouldn’t understand us, figurin’ out what went on here, now do we? I shook my head “no” in the dark, but I’m sure he made it out.

Ronnie lay back down next to me, in the dark, on his back, with his arm around my shoulders. I put my head on his smooth, hairless chest, and traced, “I love you” on his flat belly in the dark. Finally, he drew me towards him, and kissed me, long, and soft, and deep, finally turning his back towards me to fall asleep once more. I pulled my shirt on over my head, and just snuggled up to his back, gently kissing his skin until I fell fast asleep.

I heard my Grandmother the next morning, gathering the pots and pans for the morning breakfast. I got right up and started to help her get the food together, until I suddenly saw my appearance. Ronnie’s cannon-blast when dried, was more like the stuff that spider-man shoots out of his wrists. It was kinda nasty, crackly, and stuck my clothing together like glue. “Hang on a minute, Gram. I gotta wash up a little bit here first.” I whispered to her. “What? Did the sand man visit ya last night?” she asked — Thankfully she didn’t see real well anymore. “Yeah, something like that. I’ll be right back.”

There was always a basin and a milk can of water on the porch, with a floursack towel, and some soap, for everyone who was working to wash up in, before lunch and dinner, and I poured some fresh, clean water, and got cleaned up as fast as I could, hurrying in to help Gram cut up potatoes for home-fries with breakfast. Soon enough, everyone would be awake, smelling breakfast on the old wood-fired stove. Gram was already frying bacon, so we’d have the bacon grease for the eggs and home-fries. Big country breakfasts for large groups are a treat forgotten by time. Soon enough everyone was up and eating. The guys soon were full enough, and taking their towels, and a change of shirt and underwear, went down to the creek, to the “bathin’ hole” to get washed up. Once they were working, the ladies could go down in pairs, if they wanted, before time to make lunch.

Just so happened that day, I had a reason to go down and get washed up at the “bathin’ hole” but no one really wanted to bother coming down with me. Gram said she would, if no one else would, but I said I’d be fine on my own, and down I went, with change of clothes, towel and soap. I thought I’d wash out my clothes while I was there, too, and hang em on the line down by the “bathin’ hole” as to let ’em dry. There was a good rock down there for that. I waded in waist-deep, was washin’ my clothes on the rock, when I felt something brush by my leg. I screamed, but I was too far for anyone to hear me. What kind of creature would be in the water up here in a mountain stream?? Shouldn’t be anything but a turtle, or a trout, or possibly a beaver, I thought. I turned right back to my clothes-washing, when it came out of the water with a gigantic splash, getting me soaking wet… It was….. Ronnie.

He’d seen me come down from the house alone, and thought I might want company, or someone to keep me safe — yeah, he was doing a real good job of that so far… He was in his jeans, and had taken off his shirt and socks. I grabbed my towel, and dried his head and chest for him. — Oh God he was pretty in the daylight. And then I covered my bosom with the towel.. I was a big girl. Some would even call me fat. I didn’t want him to see me in the daylight. Soon, though, he took the towel off of me, and ran onto the bank… every time I’d get close enough to possibly catch him, he’d snap me in the but with the towel. We were both laughing our asses off. We came around the other side of the big laundry rock — the side that was out of the water, and he leaned me against it. From this vantage point, he could see anyone coming down the path, but no one could see me. This was safety.

He kissed me hard… forcing his tongue into my mouth, doing a sort of battle with my tongue, and winning. His breath, hot from his nostrils, spilled over my cheek, and I just melted in his arms… Every so often he’d open his eyes, to look at the path, but then he’d close them right away again. Then he kissed my shoulders and neck, finally nibbling on the bottom of my ear.

“I want you to do something different for me, Tina, baby, and if you like it, I’d like you to do it all the time for me.” I just nodded my head, while he kissed across the top of my chest while his hands held my large breasts up, so he could suck upon the nipples, swirling them around with his tongue.

“Did you like the way that stuff from me tasted last night?” Oh I nodded because I truly did… Salt, Hay, and Summertime, on tap, from my Ronnie’s cock. Yes.

Well, I’d like you to put the whole thing in your mouth, and suck on it, until that stuff comes out, and then, I’d like you to swallow it for me. It makes me feel sooo good! It makes me feel like a man, baby. Don’t you want to make me feel like YOUR man? Oh.. I nodded and nodded… that’s EXACTLY how I wanted him to feel — my pretty Ronnie, Tina’s MAN!!! I sank right down on the pile of soft moss at the bottom of the rock, and I opened my legs, for him to step between them, and shove his hard thing (his dick, I guess) into my mouth, and that’s pretty much what he did. Oh, he felt big…. like a horse-dick, in my mouth… He was my pretty horse-man — a centaur… he was man down to the waist, but from then on down, he was all horse… he smelled like horse — he tasted like horse, and he was built like horse… I giggled a little, and the giggle made him feel even better, and he threw his head back in pleasure — I almost expected him to whinney. Soon, he was bucking at the back of my throat, though, where my tonsils were… I didn’t know if I could take him past that point or not, but I was sure gonna try. I never got the chance, though.

The moment I started thinking of how I might do this, he started bucking in my mouth like crazy……I remembered this crazy pumping from last night. He was going to fire that big ole canon of his. I brought him out until he was just inside my mouth, and I started stroking him with both hands like crazy… and this nonsensical noise came out of his mouth. Something like “ehht” and he shot it all in my mouth… OH MY… It was like taking a taste of some kind of hot gravy, but then taking wayyyyy too much in your mouth, but I swallowed it down — all of it… and the same taste.. maybe not so much beer this time, but salt, and hay, and the very taste of summertime was in my mouth, and I loved it… I loved consuming a part of him. I wondered if any women survived on the goop of their men alone? I wondered if I could try….

End Part 1

To Be Continued