YPA: Your Privacy Assured/YPA.ISO/text/barn.sty

Text File | 1995-02-09 | 17.8 KB | 320 lines

Subject: In the Barn
Archive-name: in-the-barn

I lie on my back, watching the swallows swoop and dive overhead. They
circle the rafters, darting in and out through the open window and
lancing across a dusty shaft of sunlight. It's late afternoon; soon
the sun will set and mom will be calling me for dinner. I think
company's coming over for dinner, though I'm not sure who. Probably
some of my parents' friends, and I'll have to sit around all evening
on my best behavior, bored as hell. I linger in the barn, hoping to
postpone the inevitable. All the mystery of summer is encapsulated in
the moment.  Sweat trickles coolly down my back, sticking my t-shirt
to the moist skin underneath. I itch slightly from the bits of straw
that have crept under my clothes. The air is sweetly fragrant from the
soft cushions of new mown hay. I stretch luxuriously, wishing that I
could stay here forever.

The door opens, squeaking on rusty hinges. I freeze, resenting this
intrusion on my private domain. Quietly, I creep to the edge of the
loft and peer downward through swirling columns of dust. A lone figure
leading a horse enters. At first my eyes, accustomed to the brightness
by the window, are unable to make out any details in the dimness
below. However, as the intruder unsaddles the horse and begins
brushing him, I recognize my 16 year old cousin, Brad. I am about to
call out a cheerful greeting to him, when something in the furtiveness
of his movements stops me.

He tends to the horse quickly, glancing frequently at the door. As
soon as he is finished, he leads the horse outside and releases it.
After a quick, nervous look around, he scuttles back into the barn and
closes the door. I watch curiously as he sits down on a bale of hay,
then pulls a magazine out of his shirt and begins to read. Why is he
so secretive?  I slither closer, trying to get a better look. I can
barely make out anything from this distance, but I see enough to
answer my question.  He's reading one of those dirty magazines, the
kind with the naked- lady pictures. He's also doing something very
strange...

His face is all scrunched up, and at first I think he must have a
stomach ache or something. Then I notice that his shorts are unzipped,
and his hand is down the front of them. His hand is moving very fast,
and I can hear him grunting and moaning in time with it. Curious, I
try to creep closer, but a cloud of dust puffs up in my face. Unable
to help myself, I sneeze loudly.

Brad freezes. "Who's there?" he calls hoarsely. He has such a comical
expression on his face that I can't help giggling.

"It's just me," I call back. Relieved, he stuffs the magazine back
into his shirt and clambers up the ladder to the loft.

"Hi, kiddo!" he greets me cheerily. "Why didn't you say something when
I came in?" He ruffles my hair casually, just like he always does.
Today, this irritates me. I've had a crush on Brad since I was six
years old, but he's never taken me seriously.

"Why do you always hafta call me that?" I snap petulantly. "I'm not a
baby anymore! I'm a woman now! See? I've even got tits!" Impulsively,
I lift my t-shirt to show off my small, firm breasts. Brad chuckles
appreciatively.

"Yeah, kidd- Jodi," he corrects himself, "You sure do. How old are you
now, anyway?"

"Thirteen and a half!" I declare proudly.

"Well! Practically a grown woman!" He is teasing me. Angry, I wrestle
him to the hay strewn floor and begin tickling him. For a few minutes
he tolerates this, laughing. Suddenly, he flips me over, and before I
know what's happened, I'm flat on my back and Brad's sitting on my
chest.  I stick out my tongue at him in mock anger, but I'm actually
enjoying the attention and the closeness. I try to keep a stern face,
but something catches my eye and I burst into uncontrollable laughter.
Brad looks confused for a minute, then follows the direction of my
gaze and flushes beet-red when he sees what I'm laughing at. He has
forgotten to zip his shorts, and something soft and pink is peeking
forlornly from between the zipper teeth. I've never seen a boy blush
before, and the sight makes me laugh even harder.

Gritting his teeth, Brad quickly stands and closes his pants. He looks
angry. I am still sitting on the floor, gasping for breath. Finally,
the alarming color begins fading from his cheeks and ears. Anxious to
change the subject, I glance nervously around. The magazine has fallen
out of his shirt during our brief scuffle, so I pick it up and begin
flipping idly through the pages.

The first part is sort of boring - letter mostly, and ads for a bunch
of strange looking stuff. This soon gives way to the pictures, though,
and I examine them with interest. Brad hovers beside me, looking over
my shoulder. He still looks a little embarassed.

"So, what do you think?" he asks abruptly.

"Well...they're a little...intimidating..." My voice trails off
weakly.  He gives me an encouraging nod, so I continue. "I mean...look
at those bodies! I wish I looked like that..." I sigh wistfully. "I'll
probably never have great tits like those..."

"Hey..." Brad's voice is warm and soothing. "There's nothing wrong
with small tits. I think yours are sorta cute..." As if to confirm his
words, his hand slides under my shirt. His palm is rough and calloused
against my skin. His touch sparks strange tremors inside me, and I
shiver slightly, as if from a sudden breeze. Slowly, he circles my
nipple with fingertips that seem to trail fire behind them. My nipples
stiffen almost painfully under his lazy caress. With his other hand,
he turns the page.

A loud snorting sound interupts us. Brad jumps up guiltily, stuffing
the magazine back under his shirt. "Relax," I whisper. "It's just
Sinbad."  I lead him to the window, pointing out the familiar sight of
Sinbad, our bull, mounting one of the cows. Today he has selected
Margaret, a fat reddish cow who placidly ignores him. Sinbad's penis
dangles grotesquely, all pink and slimy looking. I pick up one of the
rocks I keep by the window and throw it at him. He ignores it, as
usual.

The is a strange gleam in Brad's eye as he watches the rutting bull.
His arms slip around me, stroking my breasts through my t-shirt, and I
see the acts before me with new eyes. What has previously been just a
disgusting ritual assumes new meaning, and a strange thrill courses
through me. A sudden thought strikes me, and I turn to Brad, eyes wide
with wonder.

"Is your...I mean...is it...like...that?" I stammer, blushing
furiously.

A grin splits Brad's face. "You've never seen one before, have you?"
he asks. I shake my head dumbly. His grin broadens. "Want to see
mine?" I nod, and he slips out of his shorts. His penis reminds me of
a plump, pink sausage as it stands out from his body, seeming to defy
gravity.  "You can touch it if you like..." he urges, so I reach out
carefully and touch just the end of it. It is soft, slightly rubbery,
and hot. I snatch my hand back guiltily.

Brad is laughing softly. "Here..." he urges, taking my hand in his.
"You hold it like htis." He gently curls my hand around his penis,
then begins moving my hand slowly up and down his shaft. It feels
almost as if it is alive, the way it pulses under my fingers. The skin
is very smooth and soft, radiating a fierce heat. It swells at my
touch, growing harder and hotter by the minute. Brad isn't laughing
anymore; instead, his eyes are closed in fierce concentration and his
jaws are clenched. I touch something slippery and look down in
confusion. A small bead of some clear liquid is seeping slowly out of
the tip. Brad moans softly, then opens his eyes and stares piercingly
at me.

"Do you like that?" he asks gently. I hesitate a moment, unsure, then
nod slowly. "Would you like to try something else that would really
make me happy?" I nod again, slower this time. He takes out the
magazine again and flips purposefully through the pages. "Here," he
says, extending a picture toward me. "Think you could do that?"

I look at the picture in bewilderment. It shows a man sitting on the
edge of a bed, and a woman kneeling on the floor between his legs.
They are both naked, and she seems to have his...thing...in her mouth.
My stomach lurches uncomfortably at the idea, but Brad is staring
expectantly at me. I don't want him to think of me as just a baby!
Defiantly, I say, "Sure, I could try - But you'll hafta tell me what
to do..." From the grin that spreads slowly across his face, I know
I've said what he wanted to hear. His smile causes a warm, bubbly
feeling to creep through my stomach and chest.

"Here..." he whispers, gripping my shoulders gently. He pushes me
slowly down to my knees, so that his erect penis bobs directly in
front of my face. It even bounces off the end of my nose a couple
times. I'm trying hard not to giggle. "Now, open your mouth..." I do
as he instructs, and he slowly eases himself into my mouth. The liquid
at the tip is warm and salty, not at all unpleasant to taste, though
I'm not so sure I like its slimy consistency. He feels even bigger
than he did when I held him in my hand. Hotter, too. I feel like I'll
choke in another minute, but I'm trying not to. I don't think Brad
would like that. "Close your mouth now, and suck gently..." he
instructs. "Careful! Don't use your teeth!"

Hesitantly, I do as he says. He begins moving slowly in and out of my
mouth, sliding over my lips and tongue. At first, I just kneel there.
Then, as I gain courage, I begin exploring his hot shaft with my
tongue.  He groans. Encouraged, I begin flickering my tongue over the
smooth head, feathering it along the sensitive underside of the shaft,
and even darting the tip of my tongue into the tiny hole at the end. I
am taking my cues from Brad; whatever he seems to like, I repeat or
explore further. He is breathing quite hard now, and I can feel him
pulsing gently. The salty fluid begins to flow more rapidly, first one
drop and then another. Suddenly, he wraps both hands tightly in my
hair. I gasp at the brief pain, then forget it as he thrusts firmly
into my mouth and holds me there, pressed tightly against his groin.
He is all the way inside my mouth, his short, dark pubic hair tickling
my nose and lips, and the head of his penis rubbing the back of my
throat. A firm throbbing begins, and I feel it all along my tongue and
the insides of my cheeks and on my lips. Gouts of burning liquid spurt
from him into my mouth and throat. My eyes are watering terribly, and
I begin to choke. Will it ever end? Finally the throbbing dies down. A
few erratic spasms shake him, and then he is still. He draws a deep,
ragged breath and I realize that he has been holding his breath for a
while. With a deep sigh, he withdraws himself from my mouth.
Immediately, I turn and spit out the liquid that remains in my mouth.
It forms a small, slimy puddle that is quickly absorbed by the dusty
hay.

"That was wonderful!" he sighs. I nod shakily, not altogether certain
that I agree. It was different, yes, and even a little exciting, but
I'm not sure that I'd care to try it again right away. At least he had
enjoyed it, though. Maybe now he'd see me as a real woman, rather than
just a pesky kid.

Outside, the bull is still grunting and pumping away. I creep over to
the window to watch. After a moment, I feel Brad's arm slide around my
shoulders. "Looks like they're having fun, doesn't it?" he whispers.
I shrug noncommittally. "Like to try it?" he asks. I turn and look at
him in shock.

"What, just like that?" I gasp, incredulous.

"No, silly, of course not!" he replies teasingly. "People do it a lot
differently. You'll like it. Come on..." he urges.

"Well... ok..." I agree. I'm not really sure that I'll like it, but
Brad wants to and I do enjoy making him happy. He beams at me, and I
know that again I've said the right thing. I turn to face him and am
surprised to see that he has removed his shirt and shoes, and is
completely naked. Not only that, but his penis is again pointing
straight out from his body. It bounces comically as he walks.

He carefully slips my T-shirt off over my head, then kneels to
unbutton my shorts. As he slides them down my legs, he brushes his
lips lightly over the soft hair that has so recently sprouted between
my thighs. His warm breath causes little shivers to go all through me.
My clothes and underwear swiftly join Brad's in a little discarded
heap on the floor.  He runs his fingers lightly up my leg, tangling
them among the short curls, then runs them along my slit. Tiny
electric shocks surge through me, weakening my knees and almost
causing me to collapse. Brad notices and guides me over to a bale of
hay where he seats me. The hay prickles a bit on my bare bottom, but I
don't care right now. Brad's fingers have continued their lazy
exploration of my private regions, slipping between my tender lips and
even probing inside me. His mouth is no less busy, having closed over
one of my nipples. He nibbles gently, sucking on the tiny peak. I
maon, dizzy with strange, intoxicating feelings.

I had never thought anything could feel so good! Sure, I had often
explored my own body while I lay in the bathtub, but it hadn't felt
nearly the same. I wonder briefly why it should feel so different when
Brad touches me in those secret places than when I touch myself there.
Then, all questions are driven from my mind as he raises his mouth to
meet my own. I have never been kissed before, not by a boy. Kisses
from my father and uncles don't count. This is completely different
from those other kisses, anyway. It is longer, hotter, and deeper.
Brad's tongue flicks lightly against my lips, and instinctively I part
them. He probes my mouth, sliding his tongue past my lips and joining
it in a sensuous dance with my own tongue. I follow his lead and taste
his sweet breath, the smooth hardness of his teeth and the softness of
his lips.

His hands are firm against my shoulders now as he draws me down to the
floor. The hay is soft and deep here, though it tickles slightly. It
makes a fine nest for us. Brad slowly runs his hands down my body,
leaving tiny trails of goosebumps behind. I am breathing just as hard
as he is now, and I know that I want something - I'm not sure exactly
what - very badly. There is a deep, sweet ache inside me, yearning to
be filled, and I know somehow that Brad will be able to fill it.

At last his hands reach my thighs, and very gently he draws them
apart.  He kneels between my legs for a moment, then stretches out on
top of me.  For a moment his weight forces the breath from my body,
but then I become accustomed to it and he no longer seems heavy. His
hands fumble between my legs. At first I am perplexed, but then I
realize his intent as I feel the head of his penis, hard and hot,
pressing against the entrance to my privates. It seems so bit! There
is no way it could fit, but still he presses against me. He withdraws
one hand and I see some slippery fluid glistening on his fingertips,
but it is only when he raises his hand to his lips and licks it off
that I realize that it is my own.

He grips my thighs lightly, spreading them further apart, and
positions himself over me. He is now centered on my tiny hole,
pressing firmly against me. It hurts a bit, but with the promise of
pleasure to come.  I press back against him, anxious to feel him
inside me. Slowly, he begins to enger me. I whimper softly. It feels
as if I will be ripped apart, now! I want him to stop, to withdraw,
yet paradoxically, I also want him to continue. The pain grows
sharper, and it seems that I can feel delicate tissues tearing as he
forces his way into me, but I match him push for shove. Suddenly there
is a wave of greater pain, and then he slides easily in as if whatever
had blocked him had been torn away.  Now he pulls back, nearly
withdrawing completely from my body. I moan weakly, not wanting him to
leave me. In answer, he drives easily into me again. This time there
is no obstacle, and he buries himself to the hilt. Again and again he
lunges into me. I raise my hips to match his thrusts, reacting to the
same primitive instincts that I have observed so many times in the
livestock. A fierce pressure seems to be building up inside me, until
I feel as if I will burst. Another thrust, and I can scarecely contain
it. Another, and I am shoved over the brink. Every muscle in my body
convulses. My toes clench and my thighs twitch wildly.  I can feel my
inner muscles contract fiercely around Brad's penis, gripping it
tightly with almost the same movement I use to milk the cows.  And it
seems to have a similar result on him, because he plunges deep into me
and holds himself there, throbbing wildly as his juices flood into me.
It seems an eternity before our bodies come back under control.
Finally the pulsing and twitching ease and we collapse limply into one
another's arms. Brad is still buried deep within me, but now he has
grown small and soft.

A familiar voice shatters our peaceful interlude. "Brad! Jodi! Time
for dinner!" We jump guiltily, grabbing frantically for our clothes.

"We'll be right there, mom!" I shout back in the general direction of
the house. Hastily, we brush the dust and hay from our hair and sweaty
bodies, then dress. Brad pauses to give me a quick kiss, then we
scamper down the ladder. As we leave the barn, Brad whispers that he
will have to come visit more often this summer. I wholeheartedly
agree.

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