Caitlyn & Erin on the Farm
Copyright© 2025 by Mandurah
Chapter 1
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A group of sexy teens on a farm for a week? Will romance bloom? Or is it more of an incestuous yet consensual affair? Either way, or perhaps both, there will be a plethora of sexual activity going to the extreme for your reading entertainment!
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Teenagers Consensual Romantic Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Incest Oral Sex Sex Toys
It’s been a while since Erin and I saw each other after we became friends while on holiday at the Kurlinin Lakes resort. But we stayed in touch through texts and FaceTime.
This year, I was to spend a week during the summer school holidays with Erin and her mum on their farm in the central wheatbelt. Her dad was off playing bowls in a country competition. Her brother Lucas, who had popped my cherry, was on holiday with his girlfriend down south.
I had a two-and-a-half-hour train ride to Perth from Bunbury. Then, after meeting Erin and her mum at the train station, we had another two-hour car journey from Perth to their property in the Central Wheatbelt. Dowerin is the closest town, some fifteen kilometers from their homestead.
As the train pulled into the station, I saw Erin and her mum standing on the platform, waiting for me.
“Erin,” I squealed as I got off the train.
“Caitlyn, babe. It’s so good to see you again.”
We kissed and hugged and kissed some more, and after breaking the hug, I said, “You too, Lambchop.”
“Lambchop?”
“Yeah, you live on a wheat and sheep farm, so I thought I would give you the nickname of Lambchop.”
“Like, aren’t you the smart one?”
“Yeah, babe.”
“Hey, that’s what I call you.”
“Too right, Lambchop.”
“Hello, Mrs H. So nice to see you again.” I leaned in and hugged Erin’s mum. “It’s so good of you to invite me for the week. Awesome, thank you.”
“Mrs H? I like that. It makes me sound like one of the girls, neat.”
“Hey Mum, you’re too old to use teen language like neat.”
“I’ll give you too old Lambchop. I’m sure I’ll give you two a run for your money this week.”
The three of us laughed before I grabbed my suitcase, packed full of all the clothes I wouldn’t need and a few I would, and off to the car.
Erin and I sat in the back seat, chatting as her mum drove. It was late afternoon when we arrived at the farm, and once out of the car, the three of us had a group hug, and Mrs H squeezed my bum. I looked at her, then did the same to hers. Oh, what a week this may be.
“Ok, Babe and Lambchop,” said Mrs H. Erin, and I laughed out loud.
“Mum, that’s what Caitlyn and I call each other, not you.”
“And why not? We can all have nicknames and have a fun week. Is there nothing to do on the farm once we’ve checked the pumps, filled the water tanks, ensured the bores are working, and fed the sheep each day?”
“No, summer is quiet on the farm. So what would you like Caitlyn and me to call you?”