Hi, my name is Billy Winston. I am an only child, the son of two very ambitious and successful professionals whose professions seemed much more important to them than their family. In fact, later in life I came to believe that they only married because my mom was already pregnant with me. As a young child I was raised more by a succession of nannies than by my parents. Once I had started school, the nannies disappeared. We had a housekeeper who filled in the time between the end of my school day and the return of my parents after their busy days at work. Though they both traveled occasionally for work, they arranged their schedules so that at least one of them was home at all times.

Nevertheless they faced a major challenge during the summer holidays, what to do with me. They felt that I was too young to stay home alone. I suppose they feared the trouble I could get into while unsupervised. Beginning with the summer after my first year of school they solved their problem by shipping me off to my mom's parents for the summer. My grandparents still operated the large mid-west family farm that had been in the family for generations.

Grandpa and Grandma had an old-fashioned relationship based on traditional family values. They had had 10 children, five boys and five girls. All five girls had moved away when they married. Three of my uncles had also moved away. Only Uncle Bob and Uncle Dan still lived in the nearby town. Uncle Bob ran the farm now that Grandpa was getting older though Grandpa still put in a full day's work himself. Uncle Dan owned and operated a farm supply store in town.

I didn't mind spending summers with my grandparents because the farm was a gathering place for the family. Although I had no brothers or sisters, I had more than 20 first cousins. Over a summer I would usually see most of my cousins even though most of them lived a fair distance away. Heather, my favorite cousin, shared my fate residing with our grandparents for the summer. Heather was two years older than I but we got along well. She had a couple of older brothers who had already left home. I always thought of her as an older sister, but apparently she came to see things a little differently.

Of course we were not allowed to lounge around and goof off all the time. There are always chores to do on a working farm and our grandparents expected us to do our share. That share included feeding animals, mucking stalls, collecting eggs, weeding the garden and similar activities. Grandma required Heather to help with meal preparation, but that was more Grandma's effort to teach Heather to cook than any real need for help in the kitchen.

Chores rarely took all morning. When we had finished we were allowed to amuse ourselves as we pleased. Sometimes Grandpa took us fishing in the river that bordered their property and sometimes he took us out to shoot varmints with a single shot .22. Grandpa believed strongly that everyone should know how to use a firearm safely and should be able to hit what they aimed at. When we were on our own we usually went down to the creek to the old swimming hole. The creek ran through a wooded area about a mile from the house. Decades earlier when our parents were young, Grandpa built a dam across the creek to create a wide but shallow swimming pool. The thick woods hid the pool from view until you came very close. There was an open clearing on one side of the pool where Heather liked to sunbathe. When just my male cousins and I went swimming, we went skinny-dipping. When Heather and I went, we took bathing suits.

It was the first week of our summer at the farm. Heather and I had just finished chores when she came out of the house toward the barn. I was headed back to the house to wash up a bit.

"Hey Billy," she started, "Wanna go swimming?"

"Yeah, sure," I grinned, "Just give me a few minutes to wash up and grab my trunks."

"OK," she said, "I'll just wait out here on the porch."

Holding up a daypack, she added, "I've already got the blanket, towels and stuff."

I didn't reply as I hurried toward the bathroom. It only took a few minutes to wash off the visible dirt, put on my swimming trunks and a t-shirt and rejoin Heather on the porch. Did I mention that Heather was a stone fox? She was petite standing about 5' 2" and weighing no more than 100 pounds. Though slender, her boobs and hips were perfectly proportional to her size. She wore her light brown hair cut short in a kind of pageboy style. Despite the fact that she was my first cousin, I had a serious case of lust for her. Until that day I had never thought that we would ever do anything sexual, but many of my masturbatory fantasies featured her.

When we arrived in the clearing, I helped Heather spread out the blanket.

I had pulled off my t-shirt and was headed for the water when Heather said, "Wait, Billy. I want to get some sun first and I need you to put some sun screen on my back."

I turned around and my jaw dropped almost to my neck. Heather lay stark naked face down on the blanket. Her legs were parted enough that I could just barely see her pussy slit at the junction of her thighs.

She looked back over her shoulder at me and said, "Quit gawking and start putting on that lotion before I burn."

I stammered out an "OK" before dropping to my knees next to her to retrieve the sunscreen. I started at her neck and worked my way down her back with a small detour as I applied the lotion to the backs of her arms. Touching her bare back made my already stiff wiener even harder.

When I got to her butt, she said, "Don't skip anywhere; I don't want to burn in any sensitive places."

I spread the lotion thoroughly on her cheeks making sure to cover her ass crack to the bottom of her pussy. She twitched when my slippery finger slid over her rosette. I coated her legs all the way down including the soles of her feet. When I finished she rolled over onto her back propped up on her elbows with her legs spread wide and her knees up enough to give me an unrestricted view of her pussy. No longer a tight slit, it had opened enough for me to see the inner lips and her clit just barely protruding from its hood. A sparse covering of soft brown curls framed her opening. My already stiff cock felt as if it had hardened to a steel bar.

"Billy," she grinned, "Before you put sunscreen on my front, I have to ask you a question."

"Sh... , sh... , sure," I stuttered, "Ask me anything."

"Have you ever had a blow job?" she asked.

"I ... uh, ... I ... uh, ... actually no," I mumbled.

"So here's the deal," she said, "I'll give you a blowjob if you will lick my pussy. Does that sound good to you?"

I was stunned into silence as I tried to figure our how to respond. I didn't know whether I could lick her where she pees without throwing up. But the idea of a blowjob really appealed to me. At home my lack of supervision meant that I had ready access to internet porn, not to mention having spent a fourth of my life on the farm where animals have no inhibitions. Before Heather, I had never even seen a real woman nude up close and personal. But I did know about oral sex and how tab A fits into slot B.

Impatiently Heather demanded, "What's the matter Billy? Cat got your tongue."

"Sorry," I muttered, "It's just that I don't know what to say. I've never done anything with anybody. I wouldn't know what to do."

"Don't worry, Billy," she replied with a soft voice, "I haven't done very much either. It shouldn't be hard to figure out. We can just try stuff and tell each other what feels good."

"OK, I guess," I said. "So how do we start?"

Leering at the tent pole stretching the front of my swimming trunks, she demanded, "Take off your swimming trunks so I can see what we have to work with."

When I hesitated, she added, "It's only fair, you've already seen all of me."

I grabbed the waistband of the trunks and slowly worked them over my hips. I had to reach in and hold my dick to keep it from getting caught and pulled down. When I had pulled the trunks down past my balls, I let my dick swing free as I pushed the trunks down to my ankles. My dick bobbed a few moments, coming to rest sticking out at a 45-degree angle.

As I stood straight, Heather gasped, "Oh my god!"

"What's the matter?" I asked with alarm in my voice. "Is there something wrong with me?"

"No," she reassured, "You're fine. It's just that I've never seen one that big, at least not up close and for real."

I should mention that I was big for my age. I stood 5' 8" tall and weighed about 150 lb. My hands and feet were big and everything else was proportional. My cock was about 6" long erect but only about as big around as a hotdog. I didn't think it was all that big but probably only a few kids my age had one longer. At least with respect to body size, Heather was tiny compared to me.

Feeling more confident, I looked down at her and asked, "Do you still want to do this?"

"Yeah," she gulped, "But you go first."

"OK," I agreed nervously, "But you have to tell me what to do."

She spread her legs wider, pulled her knees up higher and used her fingers to open her lower lips revealing all her charms.

"First," she said, "You have to kneel down close to me so you can get a good look."

As soon as I did as she had instructed, she started the instructions, "You see the hole at the bottom of my slit?"

I nodded and she continued, "That's my vagina, my pussy hole. Now look up to the top of the slit; that little protrusion is my clit, ... my clitoris. It's really, really sensitive but it feels good when I rub it gently. I bet it would feel really great if you licked it."

I leaned over until my face was only a few inches from her crotch. I felt engulfed with an unfamiliar but not unpleasant aroma. I felt my already stone hard cock twitch. Hesitantly I bent further over to lick her spread open gash from her opening to her stiff clitty.

She gasped, "Oh ... MY ... GOD! Oh god, that's unbelievable."

I grinned realizing I was on the right track. I found her taste, like her smell, to be arousing rather than disgusting. I gave her another lick, flicking her nubbin with my tongue. She moaned in response, flexing her hips. I continued licking her from bottom to top with extra attention to her sensitive button. Within minutes she was panting and bucking her hips in sync with my tongue strokes.

"Oh god, ... oh my god, ... oh Jesus," she moaned until she finally clamped her thighs tightly against my head squealing incoherently.

I was able to free my head when she fell back limp letting her legs splay out. I rocked back into a squatting position gazing down at her wanton body gleaming with sweat, her juices leaking out of her cunt.

"Holy shit, Heather," I exclaimed, "Are you OK?"

She looked up at me with a feeble grin as she propped herself up on her elbows and closed her legs.

"I,... , I never knew," she mumbled. "I never imagined it could feel that good. I'm OK. I'm more than OK. You can do that again anytime you like."

Then she chuckled, "I owe you one. I guess it's your turn now. Lie down on your back."

I did as she commanded. She got up and came around until she was kneeling at my feet. She pushed my legs apart and crawled forward until she was in about the same position as I had been when I licked her. My dick was sticking up at about a 30-degree angle from my stomach. She leaned over and swiped her tongue along the underside of my cock from my balls to head. I jumped a little at the first contact of her tongue with my rod.

She sat back on her heels a little and asked, "How was that?"

"OK so far," I responded.

"Only OK?" she complained, "I guess I'll have to try harder."

She continued licking my shaft from the bottom to the top with an occasional swipe across my balls. She grasped the head with a thumb and forefinger to hold it up higher so she could lick the other side. I groaned with the intense unfamiliar sensations coursing through my cock and balls. When she had thoroughly coated my dick with her saliva, she scooted around to the side. She kissed the head taking little nibbles with her lips. Then she took the entire head into her mouth and sucked on it. My ass rose off the blanket as I experienced what felt almost like an electrical shock. Heather continued to munch on the head of my dick while stroking the spit-lubricated shaft. The sensory overload ensured that I would not last long at all. After only a few strokes I felt my balls tighten as I filled Heather's mouth with spurt after spurt of cum.

Spitting my seed on the ground next to the blanket she exclaimed angrily, "Jesus Christ, Billy! Don't you know you're supposed to warn a girl before you cum in her mouth?"

Trying to look contrite, I mumbled, "Sorry, ... you know it's my first time. And besides I don't remember anyone telling me about any rules."

She tried to look stern, but with cum dripping from the corners of her mouth down and off her chin she failed.

She giggled, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

She wiped her mouth and chin with the back of her arm saying, "We'd better wash this stuff off or Grandma will know what we've been up to. Come on, if you wash my back, I'll wash yours."

She reached into her backpack to retrieve a bar of soap. We took our time washing each other with extra effort to deodorize our genitals. By the time we had finished, I was rock hard again. We brought our swimsuits into the water to avoid questions about why they were dry. Before long it was time to go back to the house so Heather could help with dinner and I could do my evening chores.

For the rest of that week, we headed to the swimming hole every day after we finished our chores. Every day we started with my licking Heather's pussy until she had a screaming cum. She also taught me to finger her while I sucked on her clit. Sometimes I would stick two fingers in her and rub her nub with my thumb. I always finished her on my tongue. Her blowjobs improved over time but she really wasn't getting that much practice. I rarely lasted more than two or three minutes after her hot mouth engulfed the head of my penis. After that first time I always warned her when I was about to explode. She never took it out of her mouth and she always swallowed.

We got caught the Saturday of the second week of our summer at the farm. I had already eaten Heather to a noisy climax. She was sucking my knob and I was about to blow when we heard a high-pitched voice squeal, "Oh my god, Heather! What are you doing?"

When I felt Heather starting to pull away, I bellowed, "Don't stop now, I'm almost there!"

Moments after she resumed sucking, I exploded pumping a mammoth load into her mouth. Still panting from my climax, I looked up to see Heather rise onto her knees. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue to show our cousin, Becca, the coating of sperm on it.

"To answer your question, Becca," she said, "I was giving Billy a blowjob. You should try it too. If you do, Billy will lick your pussy. I guarantee you'll like that."

"Eww, gross!" Becca exclaimed, "I can't believe you would do that with Billy. He's our cousin. You've committed incest."

"Incest?" Heather scoffed. "That's just a word. Let me wash and dress and I'll explain it all to you."

Then she whispered to me, "I'd better talk to her and make sure she doesn't tell anyone what we've been doing."

I nodded my assent.

Becca was Uncle Dan's daughter. She was a year younger than Heather and a year older than me. She spent a lot of time during the summer at the farm but she didn't usually sleep over except on weekends or holidays. Grandpa tried to keep the bedrooms open for out-of-town guests. We hadn't seen her earlier because her school's summer vacation started a couple of weeks after ours.

Heather and I went into the swimming hole to wash off the evidence of our oral sex before drying off and dressing. Heather led Becca toward the barn where she could have a private conversation in the hayloft. That left me to stuff the blanket and towels in her backpack and tag along behind. I strongly suspected that Heather's behavior had been motivated by more than a desire for sexual pleasure. I resolved to listen in on their conversation to hear whether she would tell Becca more than she had told me.

I followed them keeping about two hundred yards back hoping that they wouldn't catch me spying on them. As soon as they entered the barn, I hurried to catch up. I watched through a gap in the doors as they climbed up into the hayloft. As quietly as possible I slipped into the barn. There were two ladders accessing the hayloft, one at each end of the barn. I carefully climbed the ladder opposite the one they had used and hid behind some hay bales as soon as I reached the loft. Cautiously I made my way around the loft until I was close enough to hear them.

The first thing I heard was Becca saying, "I still can't believe you would let Billy shoot his stuff in your mouth."

"Oh, it's not so bad," replied Heather, "And I need Billy's help to get even with Mary Anne."

"Mary Anne? Our cousin, Mary Anne?" responded Becca, "You plan to get even with Mary Anne, the goody-two-shoes? What did she do this time?"

Heather said, "Well, you know she's gotten all of us in trouble one time or another with her tattling, don't you?"

"Oh yeah," Becca agreed, "She's told on me several times. I hate that bitch and Uncle Horace too. I think he's raising her to be a sanctimonious busy-body like himself."

"Yeah, well, that doesn't change the fact that we get punished when she tells on us," Heather growled angrily.

"She must have done something really bad to make you this angry," Becca observed.

"You don't know the half of it," Heather retorted. "Last Thanksgiving, Uncle Horace, Aunt Betty and Mary Anne came to visit for the holiday. Mary Anne caught me smoking a cigarette and told on me. Mom and Dad grounded me until the Christmas holiday. That caused me to miss my class trip to Radio City Music Hall to see the Christmas show."

"You smoke?" Becca interjected with astonishment.

"No, I don't smoke," Heather replied with exasperation. "I was just trying it out. I didn't even like it. It tasted horrible and made me cough something awful. But that's not the point. I really wanted to see that show. I was the only one in my class that had to miss the trip. Mary Anne's tattling cost me a high price so she has to pay a higher price."

"So what are you going to do to get even?" asked Becca, "And what does Billy have to do with it?"

Heather grinned evilly lowering her voice to a level that I could barely hear, "Uncle Horace and Aunt Betty are going on a pilgrimage to the holy land. They're going to leave Mary Anne here for a month starting next weekend. Billy is going to pop her cherry and turn her into a little slut. With any luck he'll knock her up too."

"How are you going to get her to go along with that," Becca challenged. "She's such a prude."

"You'd be surprised," Heather smiled. "We had to visit them at Easter. What a bummer that was. Uncle Horace's sermons are bad enough in that bible-thumping church of his, but he never stops. All weekend long we had to endure his lectures on the evils of human nature and the consequences of sin. But I did get the goods on Mary Anne."

She pulled her cell phone off her belt to show Becca, "I caught her with her fingers in her pussy and got some video on my phone. She can't afford to have Uncle Horace find out. There's no telling what he would do to her with his old-testament views of sex."

"Wow," gushed Becca, "How did she react when she found out that you have the video?"

Heather responded, "She doesn't know about it yet, but she will. I think the threat of showing that video to Uncle Horace will be enough to make sure she cooperates with me and Billy."

"You are truly evil, Heather," Becca said with admiration in her voice, "Not that Mary Anne doesn't deserve it. It will be a little justice for the rest of us who have suffered from Mary Anne's tattling."

I ducked further behind the hay bales as I heard them getting ready to climb down from the loft. I waited another 10 minutes before sneaking out of the barn. I found the girls in the kitchen with Grandma drinking lemonade. I accepted the glass that Grandma offered and joined them at the table. Heather asked me what took me so long. I told her that I had stopped to watch some deer drinking from the creek. We chatted about inconsequential things until Grandma announced that it was time to start dinner preparations. I headed back outside. Grandpa and Grandma did not tolerate neglecting one's chores. I wanted to finish mine before dinner. Heather and Becca stayed to help Grandma with dinner.

After dinner, I helped Heather and Becca clear the table and wash the dishes. Our grandparents had never invested in a dishwasher believing such appliances to be a waste of money and a temptation to idleness. When we finished, Becca said that she had to use the toilette. Heather whispered in my ear that we needed to find a private place to talk. We went out to Grandma's vegetable garden. Grandpa had put a small park bench just outside the garden where we could take a break from gardening. It was a perfect place for a private conversation. It faced the house so that no one could approach us without our seeing him or her.

Heather started as soon as we took our seats on the bench, "Billy, I know you were up in the loft spying on us this afternoon."

"Yeah, well, I knew you were going to talk to Becca about what we've been doing," I snapped back, "Since it involved me, I felt I had a right to know. Besides I didn't understand why you were doing those things in the first place. Now I know."

"Are you mad at me," Heather asked.

"Hell no," I asserted, "Do you think I would ever complain about getting blowjobs? And Mary Anne deserves what you have planned for her more than you know."

"What do you mean by that?" she inquired.

I told her the story, "Do you remember last summer when Mary Anne was here? Remember the way she followed me around wherever I went? She drove me nuts when I was trying to find some privacy to beat off. Usually I would sneak off to the hayloft when I was sure she wasn't around. I guess I got careless because one day she caught me jacking off among the hay bales. I didn't even know she had seen me until Grandpa took me to the woodshed and beat my ass with his belt. It was the worst whuppin' I've ever had in my life. Mary Anne must have made it sound to Grandpa like I'd deliberately done it in front of her. The last thing he said to me was, 'Don't let me ever hear that you've done that in front of your cousins again. You understand me, boy?' I definitely understood. For almost a week it hurt just to sit down. I hate Mary Anne. She deserves anything that happens to her as long as I don't get caught. For sure I don't want another beating like that."

Looking appalled, Heather said, "Well, it looks like we both have good reason to get even with that little bitch."

"Yeah," I agreed, "So how are we going to pull this off?"

"Well," she smirked, "Uncle Horace and Aunt Betty are supposed to arrive Friday with Mary Anne. On Saturday, Uncle Bob will drive them to the airport so they don't have to leave their car in the parking lot for a month. I figured that we could go swimming Saturday afternoon after we finish chores. We can use the video to blackmail Mary Anne into letting you go down on her. If you get her off good with your mouth, she should be distracted enough for you to pop her cherry. Then we find a way for you to fuck her every day that she's here. If you make it feel good for her, she should be addicted to sex by the time Uncle Horace and Aunt Betty get back."

"We'll have to be very careful that no one catches us," I said. "I can't imagine what Grandpa would do if he caught me fucking her but I know I wouldn't like it at all."

Heather nodded, "The adults hardly ever come to the swimming hole any more and I can watch out while you put the meat to her. I figure by the end of the first week she'll be looking for every opportunity to get you inside her. And the hay loft should be good for an occasional quickie."

"Yeah, but what if she does get pregnant," I countered. "They'll have to figure it was me. I'm the only boy here for the summer."

"Not necessarily," Heather disputed, "Some of our other cousins will be here off and on over the summer. Who knows, if you really turn her into a little slut, she might even try to seduce some of them. In any case, she won't realize she's pregnant until she's back home. I'll bet that she will try to keep it from Uncle Horace and Aunt Betty as long as possible. As strict as they are with her, she probably doesn't know anything about sex or how babies are made. It might be a couple of months before she recognizes that something is wrong."

Heather paused looking thoughtful. Then she added, "I overheard Aunt Betty talking to Mom about Mary Anne last Thanksgiving. It seems that Mary Anne had just started her period. Aunt Betty wanted some advice on how to tell Mary Anne what to expect without telling her too much about sex. I could tell that it frustrated Mom. She kept telling Aunt Betty that Mary Anne needed to know everything about sex and reproduction. Aunt Betty insisted that Uncle Horace would not tolerate her knowing about sex because he believes that women are too weak to resist temptation. Mary Anne will have no idea about what is going on until it is too late. We already know that she plays with herself and she knows enough to keep it a secret from Uncle Horace. She won't have a chance with us."

Still a bit skeptical, I said, "I hope you're right. I definitely want to get even with that little bitch. I think you have a good plan as long as we're really careful and don't get caught."

Heather took my hand to shake it and said, "Deal. I am so looking forward to next weekend."

With that we headed back to the house.

The next week seemed alternately to crawl and to race by. I both dreaded and looked forward to the coming adventure with Mary Anne. The prospect of losing my virginity in Mary Anne's tight little pussy was certainly appealing. On the other hand I felt conflicted about the chance of making her pregnant. I did not doubt that she knew what she was doing when she tattled on us to get us in trouble. She knew we would be punished. On the other hand, her parents hadn't done her any favors in raising her. The adults praised her good behavior but almost all of her cousins close in age hated her. She probably got along well with the other kids in the faith-based private school that she attended unless she treated her friends as she did her relatives. In the end I decided to go along with Heather's plan. If Mary Anne found herself with a bun in the oven, so be it.

Heather and I had just returned from the swimming hole on Friday afternoon when Uncle Horace pulled up in front of the house. After the usual hugs and greetings, I helped them bring their luggage in. The master bedroom that Grandma and Grandpa used was downstairs. There were another four bedrooms upstairs as well as a large screened in sleeping porch. I was in one bedroom and Heather occupied another. We had been told that Mary Anne would share Heather's room. I knew from Heather's complaints all week that she was not happy with the arrangements. However I had an idea that might make sharing a room with Mary Anne more acceptable to Heather. I planned to tell her later in the week.

As petite as Heather was, Mary Anne was even tinier. She must have suffered from some kind of severe developmental delay. Even though she was the same age as I, she still had a boyish figure. She had no breasts and hips that were just beginning to develop. I guessed her weight at 80-85 pounds. She stood less than 5 feet tall. She looked like she was two or three years younger than I was.

As soon as we had put the luggage away, Grandma told Mary Anne that she and Heather would be helping to prepare dinner. As usual, I went back outside to do my evening chores. Unfortunately we had to endure Uncle Horace's pontifications over dinner. Grandpa sat silent at the table. Though he considered himself a god-fearing man, he clearly didn't care much for Uncle Horace's extreme views on religion. Grandma kept trying to keep the focus on their trip to the holy land, a topic preferable to the incessant preaching. The rest of us had little to say. If I had been a believer, I would have prayed for the meal to end as soon as possible.

Eventually the meal did end. Heather, Mary Anne and I made short work of clearing the table and washing the dishes. Heather and I headed out to the garden bench to escape Uncle Horace. Mary Anne tagged along. We tried to be friendly toward Mary Anne because we didn't want her to suspect any of our bad intentions. Of course Mary Anne knew about the swimming hole from previous visits. She probably didn't realize that we had been going there almost every day. We all agreed that we would go swimming after Mary Anne's parents left for the airport.

The next morning, Heather and Mary Anne finished their chores well before I did. I was not surprised since the two girls were sharing chores that Heather had been doing alone.