Broken In By Brother

   by Lubrican

   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 too 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.  Especially later, 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, I
saw, as poppa rolled on top of her 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 eight or nine.  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 that's 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 all 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 came 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 Pandora's 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 End 
