The strangest things on Earth are not always legends from faraway lands or new discoveries from unexplored corners. The unbelievable can be found in the most ordinary of places, as unambiguous as our own back yards. They can range from the mere uncommon to the unimaginable, sublime to terrifying, and all of them secrets waiting to be found.

Somewhere amidst the rolling ocean of Kansas wheat there stood a modest two-story farmhouse. It was a lonely building not at all unlike others in the area that were built in the mid-nineteenth century. It might have been swallowed in the monotony of the great prairie, but this house had a strange aura about it. Alluring to some but repulsive and terrifying to most, the forlorn house seemed to hold a haunting secret. Some sinister mystery connected to the structure’s surroundings, centuries old and maddeningly out of place.

The old farmhouse was a Spartan, clapboard-sided building with few windows. Not graced with the charm of nineteenth century American gothic, it presented itself as little more than an abode for poor people of the land. It stood hidden in the center of, along with its assorted outbuildings, three large, evenly spaced, symmetrical hills that obscured it from view. Cloistered in this hollow, five cottonwood trees grew in a tight cluster around the house. Unnaturally large, they seemed to stand guard over house against the sprawling nakedness of the plain and at the same time to draw life from the antiquated structure as if it emanated an inexplicable sustenance. The entire sight suspended from the end of its narrow, gravel lane which snaked through the wheat like a frail umbilical to the world of oblivious routine.

For many years the property itself had belonged to Keziah Mason. She was a vigorous, old widow from parts east who rented out the surrounding farmland for her income. Not much was known about the old woman but that she shunned visitors, fiercely guarded her solitude, and rarely ventured outside the hollow. Many said the aged recluse was darkly insane. Others said she was a witch and had damned the place with dark spirits and daunting spells. Children brave enough to venture over the hills on dark summer nights traded stories about shrieks mixed with insane laughter, or lurid entreaties. Locals told of violent dark clouds that spun round and danced over the hollow on stormy nights. All manner of spooky tales and strange accounts were attributed to her and the house both before and after her death. When her body was found by the grocer’s delivery boy, lying naked on her bed in an upstairs room with the sheets torn and clutched tight in her fists, the speculation soared.

For many years the house sat empty but eventually passed to a bachelor farmer who never reported anything unusual about the place. He lived there peacefully and prosperously for years. He was a friendly sort of fellow and welcomed his neighbors warmly. People visited regularly and gradually the locals lost their fear of the old place. Within two generations, the stories were completely forgotten and the old legends died.

Kelly woke that morning to pleasant relief. In the early morning hours a tremendous thunderstorm had rolled in. It washed the parched earth clean and brought down a coolness that bathed the morning air. Kelly lay still under her sheets and lazily waited for the last remnant of drowsiness to crumble away. She hated being the first one up in the morning and listened for the telltale clatter of her aunt or cousin in the downstairs kitchen before she went down to greet the day.

She was spending the summer at her Aunt Helen’s house in the country, along with her daughter and Kelly’s favorite cousin, Lisa. This had always been her favorite part of summer vacation: three weeks of swimming, riding horses, and fun. Her aunt was the older sister of Kelly’s mother, and worked as a color and graphics writer for a far away ad agency; (her mother had always said that Helen was the brains in the family) and her talent afforded her the luxury to live wherever she wanted. Helen’s husband had been killed by a mugger when Lisa was 14 and she moved them to the open prairie to get away from the dangers of city life.

Kelly bounced out of bed and went rummaging through her clothes to find something appropriate to put on. She could not go downstairs with her boobs hanging out. She found a comfortable t-shirt and pulled it over her head and she plodded to the door. Luckily, the bathroom was still free and she ducked in for a quick pee. She sat on the toilet, mused about the day’s potentialities for a while, and then rose to splash some water on her face and dry off before joining everybody in the kitchen.

As she bounded down the stairs she caught the faint smell of cinnamon and knew her aunt must have baked rolls for breakfast. She could hardly wait. Turning the corner into the kitchen she found her cousin Lisa sitting at the table, lightly perusing the morning paper.

“Well look who fell out of bed. It’s that kid from the city who can’t ride horses,” said Lisa in her usual morning humor.

“Oh, shut up,” Kelly scolded. She hugged her cousin about the neck, gave her a peck on the top of the head, and slid around behind her to take a seat at the table.

Plopping down in a chair, she ventured an inquiry to what was foremost on her mind. “Where are the cinnamon rolls,” she eagerly asked?

“Www ... Cinnamon,” came her cousin’s reply? She looked up from her paper and glanced toward her mother’s room.

“The cinnamon rolls your mom just baked.”

“Uh, Mom’s still in bed,” Lisa retorted. “What cinnamon rolls?”

“I smelled cinnamon rolls when I came downstairs. Did you hog the cinnamon rolls?” She playfully swatted Lisa’s arm.

“I’m tellin’ ya, there’re no rolls. Of course, if you wanna make some, I won’t stop ya.”

“That’s just weird, I smelled cinnamon,” Kelly said. She could have sworn she smelled them and was worked up about the idea of her Aunt Helen’s homemade rolls fresh out of the oven. “So why’s your mom still sleeping,” she plied as she swiped a section of the paper Lisa was reading.

“‘ don’t know,” Lisa responded distractedly. “Sometimes ... she works late. Yeah, she works late. She’ll probably sleep most the morning.”

The room went quiet as the two young ladies scanned through the morning news. “‘ you wanna go riding again today,” Kelly lazily probed? The true beauty of summer vacation was not pressing to any great hurry or tight schedule of activities. She nudged her cousin under the table with her foot.

“Nmmm, too muddy,” came Lisa’s response as she read. “Why don’t we take Mom’s car and go into town? There’re some cute guys I want to look up.”

“How cute?”

“If you left your bra at home, you wouldn’t regret it,” she winked at Kelly and Kelly’s face lit up at the thought of fresh game.

Kelly never understood why her sophisticated Aunt Helen would want to leave the city. It seemed to Kelly that an intelligent, energetic woman like her aunt would wither away to nothing in this vacant prairie. But she had not; in fact, if anything, she had grown more vibrant and aware. What ever. Kelly figured that it was not her problem; they lived well out here on the plains, and everyone seemed happy enough. Kelly was 18, and would be a freshman in college when she returned home in the fall. Lisa was a year older, and would be heading back to her school shortly; the three weeks of their annual summer vacation together would probably be the last time they would get to see each other until next summer.

They were not the little girls that played together in the sandbox anymore, Kelly had come to realize. They were now big girls with all the burgeoning sexuality that came with it. Their lives were changing; she was growing increasingly excited at the thought of new challenges and new opportunities, even though the idea of facing them frightened her. She was an active girl and had played on the volleyball team for years. She had cut back a bit recently, though. Her figure had changed; her sinewy frame had filled out into a quite pleasing woman-shape and the bouncing and jarring hurt her now ample sized breasts unless she took the precaution of tying the rogues down. She switched to swimming which gave her a thorough workout without the abusive physics. People could tell she was going to be taller and prettier than either her mother or her Aunt Helen. She got her robust build, thick red hair and deep blue eyes from her father and people were weary of a feisty temper to go with her physical traits but she really had none. Not to say she was not passionate; she was well tempered. Kelly always chose to wear her hair long. It was curly and she did her best to keep it from going frizzy. Lisa pried her to cut it and assume the freedom and practicality of a short and sassy look but Kelly firmly declined each time; she had long ago decided that she was more old-fashioned and preferred her classic look. She was not blind, more than once she had caught town boys from Lisa’s circle of friends nearby sizing up her long slim physique, her generous and shapely breasts, and her uncomplicated beauty; she had seen the looks on their faces before they turned away in embarrassed haste, when they realized they had been caught staring. But, they were only boys, and while they were eager and friendly enough, she simply was not interested.

Lisa, Kelly’s cousin, was shorter by several inches. She was of smaller build but by no means frail. She had a tight, muscular body that showed the benefit of her many years of gymnastics. She was pixie-ish cute with fine facial features and wore her blonde hair short and stylish. She seemed to suffer from a perpetual “Country-Girls’ Syndrome”: stuck on a farm way out in the hinterland with only a small town nearby, she amused herself by adopting the styles and manners she picked up from magazines and TV. She spent most of her free time riding horses (for fun) and reading the thick volumes from the shelves of her mother’s personal library (she was determined to be more than just some farmer’s wife); she reveled in her supple, athletic body (and the effects it produced on the boys and male faculty at her school). She was anything but fragile; the boy who forgot that was in for a surprise (and a black eye). Her breasts were smaller than Kelly’s but still proud, firm peaks (she never wore a bra), and Kelly had caught her sneaking envious comparing glances on more than one occasion. Though their bodies and minds had changed and grown, they were still best friends and they would still enjoy their summer together as they always had. This was also shaping up to be the hottest and dampest summer they could remember, and they spent a lot of time riding their horses down to the lake to cool off (much to the delight of every teenage boy in three counties). The long days stretched on before them into the promise of a fun and relaxing vacation.

The two rode into town and had their fun at teasing the local male population while taking in all the sights rural Kansas could provide. It was a time for the two girls to exercise their life long friendship and reflect on the changes life and nature had made on them over time. After their fun in town, they strayed back to the farmhouse to find Kelly’s Aunt Helen awake and glowing with a peaceful joy that seemed to match the fresh summer air.

It had turned especially hot in the week that followed, and that particular day had been the worst, nightfall had done nothing to bring relief. The bright full moon floated in a mostly cloudless sky, illuminating everything in high contrast; whatever was not lit up in its flat silvery glow was the purest black. A symphony of crickets sang out in the yard, and the frogs down in the cow-pond were backing them up in force.

In the still darkness Kelly felt the sweat collect on her skin. Beads gathered and trickled down her skin to soak in the crisp, white bed linen. Her every move caused the sheets to stick to her, combining the discomfort of the heat with a frustrating entanglement to her bed. She wished her aunt had put air-conditioning through to the upstairs rooms or at least a ceiling fan. Like every other night, she had opened both windows in hopes of catching any kind of breeze in the stifling Kansas air that seemed to press down upon her from all sides. The sweat on her skin gathered into droplets and the droplets into rivulets than ran slowly over her flesh. Down her arms, around her neck and slowly between the valley of her breasts they teased as they sought their paths to the wet sheets about her. When the stagnant oppression became too much for her she tossed off the confining sheets and sat up. She gathered her chemise in her and pulled the soaked garment up her body and over her head. It clung to her ample boobs which bounced free and jiggled on her chest. Tossing the damp attire into the hamper in the corner, she arched back; stretching her skin taught and let darkness kiss her tormented flesh. A small thrill shivered down her spine as her newly exposed tits bobbed freely in the night air. Lying back down on the bed she blew on herself to experience the brief chill spilling over her naked body. Goose bumps rose on her skin and she shivered against the short relief. She pushed the clinging locks of hair from her neck and over her pillow and her limbs searched for a cool place to lie. She tried once again to focus her mind on sleep.

She was thirsty. A quick jaunt downstairs for a glass of water might stay her restlessness. If nothing else, air moving over her damp skin would soothe her irritation. Clad only in her skimpy, diaphanous white cotton panties, she rolled out of bed and padded quietly to the closed bedroom door. The soaked material clung to the round globes of her butt cheeks which caused the crotch panel to tug teasingly at her pussy as she walked. The delightful sensation tugged on her awareness and before she reached the door the friction against her sensitive mound awoke erotic urges within her adventurous mind. The feeling of her breasts swaying unhindered in the open air only added to the urge. The notion of getting herself off enflamed her mind. And what better way to fall asleep than after a couple of really big climaxes? As she placed a hand on the doorknob she cupped the other over her mound and pressed against it. Yes, the response greeted her with a surge of pleasure that promised more. She was no newcomer to the subtle art of masturbation and she knew well what she could evoke upon her blossoming body with her skillful touch. Her body had grown so wonderfully sensitive in all the right places and her ability to pleasure herself would have her swooning back into dreamland in no time. She rubbed harder for several seconds, relishing the waves of pleasure as she slid her middle finger back and forth along her cleft through the cotton, and then forced herself to stop. She opened the door slowly and eased out into the hall, listening intently.

The floorboards creaked as she tiptoed down the hallway to the stairs. The air brushing lightly over her moist skin refreshed her senses and she felt her nipples harden. The wanton act of creeping nude through the house added to her piqued lust. She stepped daintily down the stairs, her breasts bounced and swayed freely before her and she made her way quietly to the kitchen. As she passed by the window, the moonlight contrasted the pitch-blackness of the room. She was startled by movement and glancing out the window she caught the shadow of gathering clouds creeping over the lonely hills. Maybe, cooling relief was on the way. The light of a digital clock over the stove cast the kitchen in an eerie green pallor that chilled her mood and put her on edge. A shiver of fright went through her and her skin flushed in a wave sweat through her pores; a rush of dizziness seized her. The time read 01:15, still enough time to get in a good night’s sleep.

Kelly placed a hand on the kitchen table to steady herself and leaning against it, she felt her way toward the refrigerator humming resolutely in the corner. From the cupboard by the corner her hand found a glass and drew it out. Still a little woozy, she leaned against the counter for support and held the glass beneath the faucet as she turned on the cold water she knew would be nowhere near cold enough. She opened the freezer door to get a couple of ice cubes and gave a small gasp as the frigid air poured over her, causing her skin to break out in goose bumps again. She closed her eyes, spread her knees and stood on her tiptoes, head thrown back, letting the icy draft bathe her in relief. She threw back her head and shook her hair loose from her shoulders, letting the cold pour over her breasts and down her belly, and between her creamy thighs. She grabbed a hand full of cubes and dropped them into her glass. While she let her water cool, she took another cube from the tray before closing the door. She brought the solitary cube to her lips and traced their outlines with it. As it melted, drops of cold water dribbled down her neck and between her tits. She followed the drops with the cube, tracing their path down her throat and stopping at her breasts. She cupped one heavy orb in her other hand and then slowly dragged the ice over to her nipple. Round and round she went until nipple ached with its stiffness. She moaned.

Kelly now needed relief from something else entirely. Tossing the ice cube into the sink, she picked up her glass of ice cold water and gulped it down. She drank a second glass more quickly, then lightly splashed her face and neck to wash away the sweat, letting the water trickle down between her breasts and spill down to her panties. Suddenly she became aware of a strong smell of cinnamon in the air, just like the other morning. She did not let it concern her too much; it was not an unusual smell for a kitchen. She placed the glass in the sink and braved the dark passage back up the stairs to the guest room. The rumble of thunder assured her relief from the heat was on the way.

Half way up the stairs she noticed that cinnamon scent was getting heavier. It was when she crept past the partially opened door to Lisa’s room, with the smell its thickest, she first heard the a slight but steady creak of bed springs and amidst them Lisa’s soft moan. She caught herself and remained still to confirm it. It was definitely the creak of a bed and with it the soft sigh of a young woman in the throes of pleasure. The thought of what it meant made Kelly’s heart leap in excitement. She froze in her steps, eagerly listening for more, her mind pouring over what lurid pleasures her cousin might be treating herself to just on the other side of that door. Was she having a really good dream? Was she indulging in the same self-gratification Kelly herself was about to engage in? Perhaps she sneaked a young lover into the house. The creaking of the bed became more pronounced and Lisa’s obviously enraptured moans rose to accompany it. Kelly was amazed that her aunt could not hear from her room downstairs Lisa’s chorus of barely-suppressed gasps, sighs, and whimpers even though Lisa was consciously struggling to keep herself as quiet as possible. Kelly determined that her cousin had not heard her trip downstairs; in fact, she sounded so far lost in her joy that she probably was not aware of much of anything. There was no mistaking; Lisa was getting something good and Kelly’s curiosity, or perhaps her longing to be part of it, lured her closer. An image formed in her mind of her trendy cousin diddling herself or maybe in the arms of a young stud; she had to know; she had to see; whatever it was, she needed to be included in it.

Shaking off apprehension and her better judgment, she crept closer to the door, trying not to make the squeaking floor betray her presence. With her head turned aside and her ear pressed to the open crack she listened to catch every creak of the bed, every rustle of sheets as Lisa labored toward her bliss. The closer she got to the enraptured struggle the greater the lust grew in both her heart and her loins; arousal consumed her. It was not just some mere, creepy, voyeuristic impulse to her, she felt drawn to the center of lust’s calling. She wanted to be part of this wanton dance of delight and Lisa was its core. She wanted to touch Lisa, be part of what Lisa was feeling, mount her rising excitement and cum with her. Kelly was now committed to join whatever was taking place in Lisa’s room. She only hoped her intrusion could be forgiven well enough for her to gain acceptance. She prepared herself, ran her hands through her hair, moistened her lips, and pressed herself against the door. Her breathing was coming in quick pants, a matching tempo to Lisa’s own. As the door opened, Kelly thrust her head into the gap and her senses were immediately immersed in what was before only a bare notion. The smell of cinnamon was thick. The sounds of sex were strident and all about her. Luckily for Kelly, the door did not creak. Not that anyone in the room would have noticed. The symphony of sexual engagement that surrounded Kelly was such that she doubted the participants could have heard her let alone been distracted. Kelly was no virgin and she had indulged in enough debauchery to know that Lisa was in too deep to care. With the door opened, she stepped into the room but with the door between her and Lisa’s bed she could not see what was going on.

At that moment, Lisa gave a particularly deep and very telling groan. Kelly quickly realized it was loud enough to be heard downstairs. She gave a quick glance down the hallway to make sure it was not already too late and then gently eased the door closed without a sound.

When she turned back, she was overwhelmed by the sight before her. To Kelly’s amazement, Lisa was alone. She lay on her back in the center of her bed with her filmy, satin nightgown pulled up into a bunch just above her breasts. The faint moonlight through the clouds glistened in the perspiration on her skin and outlined her form in the darkness. Her slender hands clutched at the sheets on the bed and her heels were dug into the mattress. Her body was in a large arch with her nude hips thrust upward to the ceiling. Kelly could discern from the rigid tension of her muscles beneath the otherwise softness of her form that she was straining against the throes of delight. Her head was back, eyes closed, mouth open, and lips stretched tight against her white teeth. Her chest heaved from her urgent panting and her perky breasts and notably hard nipples pointed skyward. Her golden hair was soaked in sweat and swung about her face as she shook her head from side to side. From where Kelly stood, the smell of cinnamon was overpowering and she reasoned it must be some kind of body oil or lotion that Lisa used as an accompaniment to her self-gratification. Now it became obvious to her that Lisa was getting herself off. She could now make out the cause of Lisa’s affliction, a pillow that she had wadded up between her thighs and was grinding against it with the thrusts of her hips. Lisa’s hips twisted and pumped seductively in the air like some lewd belly dance as she sought her relief against the cushion. Kelly could make out the wetly erotic sounds of Lisa’s efforts and she felt chills of sexual excitement churn through her. As she watched, she felt her self-restraint slip away and she longed to join in her cousin’s joy. Meanwhile, Lisa’s passion rose to a new level and she began voicing it in an endless stream of moans, sighs, and obscenities.

Kelly never knew her subdued, refined cousin to swear, yet now she was breathlessly whispering “Fuck me ... fuck me ... fuck me ... fuck me...” like the mantra of a wild whore. Out of respect for the dark ferocity seizing Lisa, she tucked herself back against the wall, beside the nightstand, out of sight Kelly watched her blonde cousin’s torso heave and her firm titties jiggle as she pumped and worked the pillow between her legs. Lisa threw her head from side to side, biting her lip and grunting as a powerful climax, one of a long succession, racked her small, athletic frame. Her body shook and convulsed as her orgasm ran its course and not one beat did she miss in humping her hips into the cushion clamped between her thighs. The raw lust of watching so intense and yet so intimate pleasure washed over Kelly. She found it hard to believe her sophisticated cousin could surrender herself to such abandon, it was a side to Lisa she had never known. Kelly slowly lowered herself to her knees. She longed to join the spectacle and feel what Lisa was feeling. It looked to Kelly as though Lisa would not be ending her romp anytime soon; it gave her plenty of opportunity to meld into her cousin’s scene. Lisa was oblivious to Kelly’s presence; her senses had been reduced to the wonderful space between her legs and the need to please it.

Kelly watched Lisa writhe on her bed and listened to the rising urgency in her whimpers and coos. The two near naked girls were gasping in unison now; Kelly’s round, firm breasts rose and fell on her heaving chest, nipples swollen and begging for attention. As she fell into the lust of the moment her heart pounded with the thrill in the sexually charged atmosphere, her pussy pulsed in the same rhythm.

Kelly felt light-headed and from the rush of watching Lisa’s rapture play before her. Lisa was now grunting as she worked against the pillow. Her hips were bucking and grinding in an almost violent and lewdly suggestive manner. It looked to Kelly that if a man were sexually engaged with her, he would be getting the fuck of his life. Kelly trembled as an endless series of electric pulses traced their way up and down her spine and along her neck behind her ears, her head growing light from the quickening beat in her panties. Once soaked with sweat, they were now damp with her musk; she rubbed her thighs together to feel the sensation of pussy lips rolling her clit back and forth. She could no longer resist her urge to join in Lisa’s delight. Almost unconsciously, her left hand traced its way up her wet torso to cup her heavy breast. She weighed it, squeezed it, and kneaded it, as would a passion-crazed lover. She pinched the nipple between her forefinger and thumb and felt the reception of pleasure through her body. Simultaneously, her right hand seized the front of her panties and pulled the fabric taught over her mound. The material dug into her cleft and drug against her excited nub. She looked over to watch Lisa’s sublimation with heavy eyes, her breath tearing through her throat. She glowed with the rosy flush of her lust and she was poised on the brink of orgasm.

Just then, the pillow wedged against Lisa’s crotch moved. In her highly agitated state of mind, Kelly barely noticed it or its meaning. She attributed the motion as the result of Lisa’s humping. Nonetheless, it moved again and changed its shape, all without Lisa’s touch. Like a picture out of place, Kelly finally grasped that whatever was pressed against her cousin’s pussy was moving, undulating, throbbing out and in like a billows. With every pulse outward, it was growing bigger, swelling. At that point Lisa released the sheets clenched in her fists and gently lowered her butt down to the mattress. She thrust her hands beneath her and cupped her ass cheeks before pushing her hips upward against the swelling object. Supported on her elbows, she spread her thighs wide and threw her feet over the sides of the bed. The shape, which was now apparently affixed to her pussy by its own capacity, began to heave at Lisa’s pelvis in a pace that was matched by the heaving of the young blonde’s chest. Lisa assisted the amorphous object’s effort with a rolling of her hips in a counter-rhythm to its hump. The thing clung to her sex through her every move though by what means could not be seen. A thick, wet slurping and slopping sound rent the air as it pumped against her and Lisa began to laugh sporadically, deliriously as though at last capturing some maddening secret. The steady rocking of her hips was being disturbed by shudders that ran the length of her lithe body.

“Now, ... now ... Do It ... DO IT NOW!!!” she hissed from between gritted teeth.

Kelly froze in shock when she first realized the full nature of what she was witnessing. With a breast still in one hand and the other still clutching at her snatch, Kelly’s arousal evaporated. With her mouth hung open and her eyes wide in disbelief she knelt as her mind tried to rationalize what she saw. Lisa squealed shrilly as was heard a wet smacking sound. The back of the bulging mass at Lisa’s pussy began to open up like the petals of a flower. As the pedals flung outward they sprayed in all directions a thick, crimson, cinnamon-scented fluid all about the room. Droplets splattered on Kelly and tingled her skin wherever they touched. A thick stream of the stuff gushed out from the wispy curls of Lisa’s cunt and ran slowly up her belly and between her breasts. The tendrils radiating from the central mass stretched outward and lengthened. They then flexed inward, toward Lisa’s crotch from all directions. They reached under her butt, around her thighs, over her hips and belly until they looked like a large, many-fingered hand held Lisa by her sex. The tendrils flattened out over her skin to secure their grip on her and Lisa let go of her ass to hang in the bulb’s clutches. They cradled her ass and lifted her pelvis even higher off the bed, forcing her back to arch fiercely, her shoulders pressed deeply into the mattress and her face buried against her heaving chest. She let her arms drop to the bed and her legs curled up about her body as her feet embraced the bloating mass.