Something in Common
Chapter 4

Copyright© 2018 by Marc Le Chat

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 4 - A slightly dysfunctional young man's protected world is challenged when an Uncle, Aunt, and their three kids move in with him and his parents. He is particularly stressed when their fourteen-year-old, free-spirited daughter overwhelms him with her naughty behavior. She wants his body!

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Incest   Cousins  

I may have misled you into thinking Laurie was nothing but a snotty little bitch, a loser in every way. Well, let me correct that. The girl actually had some good qualities, and among them, a natural artistic talent. Several times over the next few days, she asked me to look at the very detailed drawing on the front of the card, and give an opinion. I had to be honest and say that I thought it was very well done, certainly better than I could have drawn it. And the poem on the inside was nicely done in a flowing script. Aunt Maxine was going to love it.

And she did. Mama baked a lemon cake with yellow lemon icing, and with “Happy Birthday Max” written in blue icing. For dinner, she made Aunt Maxine’s favorite meal, deep-fried chicken with mashed potatoes and chicken gravy. I’ve never tasted better fried chicken than Mama’s. Ever. There was hardly a chicken bone left to gnaw on by the time the dinner dishes were cleared from the table.

Laurie gave her the card as Mama cut the cake. Aunt Maxine laughed when she read the limerick, but then she got all teary-eyed and hugged her daughter for the wonderful present. She never said one word about who might have come up with the idea.

Uncle Elvin had been working part-time at a furniture and appliance store making deliveries in the afternoon, so he finally had a little income. He used some of it to buy Aunt Maxine a new summer dress (Mama had picked it out for him). Aunt Maxing was thrilled, and had to model it for us. It was form-fitting, and I found myself staring appreciatively at her very nice, womanly figure. I could see where Laurie got her own shapely build.

After the festivities, as I was heading up to my cave, Laurie caught me at the bottom of the stairs and kissed me on the cheek. “Thank you for helping me with the card, Eric. You saw how much she loved it.”

“Yeah, she did, didn’t she? If I were you, I wouldn’t say a word about me having anything to do with it. Just let her enjoy it as a gift from her daughter.”

On the way up the attic stairs, I had to smile. Maybe I’d been wrong about Laurie. Or maybe she was starting to grow up. Or maybe I was starting to grow up. It would be nice not to be bickering and competing all the time; feeling like I had to watch my back.

Yes, it would be nice, but I still wasn’t confident that I was home free.


I guess you could say that Laurie and I resolved a lot of our differences on August 27th, 1946, a week before we started tenth grade at Enid High School.

There was a nice old lady on the next farm down the road, a Mrs. Hampstead, who must have been ninety years old at the time. She was a widow, so, of course, she couldn’t work the farm any more, but she leased her fields to the surrounding farms.

Anyhow, she had a peach orchard that was a big producer. That day she called Mama on the phone and said that if she would send us kids over with baskets, we could have as many as we could carry away. Most of the crop had already been harvested and shipped off, but there were still quite a few ripe ones on the trees. She did this every year, and Mama always put up the best spiced peaches and peach preserves you ever tasted.

Richard and Larry were off playing somewhere and couldn’t be found, so Mama sent Laurie and me over to Mrs. Hampstead’s with a bushel basket each, and told us not to come back until they were overflowing with ripe peaches. While we were picking the peaches, she and Aunt Maxine would be washing the Mason jars and lids for canning.

Well, there had been threatening clouds in the skies all day, so we were hustling to fill the baskets and get back home before the storm broke.

We almost made it. We were maybe a quarter mile from the house carrying full baskets when I looked across the mown wheat field and saw a white sheet coming at us.

“Jesus, Laurie, that’s HAIL! RUN!”

I knew we weren’t going to make it all the way to the house, so I took off across the field toward a metal shed that Papa used for storing old plow and tractor parts. We made it just as the hail hit us - big chunks of ice the size of golf balls.

But the damn door had a padlock on it and I couldn’t open it. Laurie and I were getting beaten up pretty badly as I kicked at the door as hard as I could. Finally, the latch broke and we jumped inside. We were going to have knots on our heads and bruises on our backs and arms, but we were okay otherwise. Of course, we were completely soaked to the skin.

The sound of the hail on the corrugated iron roof was a deafening roar, so loud we had to shout to be heard. Laurie saw that I was laughing and shouted, “What’s so damn funny? That hurt!”

I shouted back, “Looks like neither one of us was smart enough to dump the peaches and put the baskets over our heads.”

So, there we stood, soaking wet, bruised and battered, but each of us holding a full basket of peaches. Mama was going to have her spiced peaches and preserves whether Laurie and I lived to enjoy them or not.

Then Laurie started laughing, and we kept laughing until we both got side-aches.

The hail passed after a couple of minutes, but the steady downpour continued. There must have been six inches of white ice on the ground outside, and it was raining so hard we couldn’t see the road no more than a hundred feet away. I just hoped we hadn’t lost all of the corn to the hail. Papa could grind it up for cattle feed, but he’d take a big loss. Mama’s vegetable garden was probably a wreck, and I’ll bet there wasn’t a single peach left on any of Mrs. Hampstead’s trees.

Well, what was done was done. Neither one of us were interested in trudging home through the downpour, so we decided to park our butts on a rusty old disc plow frame and wait it out. Laurie was hunched over hugging herself and began to shiver. She was cold and wet, wearing only a thin summer dress and sandals. I, at least, had on jeans and a long sleeve shirt for climbing around in the peach trees.

I looked around and found an old canvas tarp folded up on a barrel of axel grease. It was covered with a thick layer of dust, so I shook it out and sat close to Laurie, pulling it around both of us. It helped, but she was still shivering, so I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer, hoping our combined body heat would warm the air inside the tarp. It helped, but not much.

She huddled as tightly against me as she could and said, “Damn, I hope the sun comes out pretty soon. I’m f-f-f-freezing!”

I hugged her tighter. “Even if it stops raining, it’ll take a good hour for the sun to melt all that hail out there. I suppose I could try to build a little fire, but with all the old oil and diesel fuel fumes in here, it might be kinda risky.”

She laughed and said, “Jesus, don’t blow us up! Please! I wish I had s-s-s-something dry to put on.”

I had an idea running through my head, but I didn’t know how she’d take it. It might have been a little bit, um, selfish, but it was also practical. Although I couldn’t guess how she’d react, I thought, “What the hell! What’s the worst that can happen? She says no?”

Aloud, I said, “You know, I read in a Boy Scout survival manual once about what you have to do to prevent dangerous hypothermia.”

Shivering even harder and with teeth chattering, she asked, “Hypo-w-w-what?”

“Hypothermia. It’s when the temperature inside your body drops way below normal. If it gets too low, it can kill you.”

“Y-y-y-yeah, thu-thu-thanks for t-t-t-telling me that. So now I’m gonna d-d-d-die?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “Probably not, but you’re not gonna warm up for a while, either, unless we do something.”

“Ok-k-k-kay, you have m-m-my attention. What does the Boy Scout manual s-s-s-say?”

“Well, as long as you’re wearing wet clothes, they’re going to keep drawing heat from your body. That means you need to, uh, get them all off. You know, strip. Then you need to wrap up in something dry.”

She leaned back and stared at me with this incredulous look on her face, and said, “Ok-k-kay, let me get this s-s-s-straight. You think I sh-sh-should strip right here in front of you, th-th-then wrap myself up in – what? – this t-t-tarp?”

I felt myself grinning sheepishly, “Well, um, there’s more.”

“Of c-c-course, there is. Well, l-l-l-let’s hear it.”

“Yeah, well, to regain your lost body heat, you need to wrap up with another person. Of course, that other person can’t be wearing wet things either. They’d have to be naked as well. Then they’d have to be snuggled together real close.”

Laurie looked me right in the eye and asked, “You w-w-wouldn’t be making this up, w-w-would you? Because if you are, y-y-you’ve got a dirty m-m-m-mind.”

I pulled her closer. “Well, think about it, Laurie. Are you cold?”

“I’m f-f-f-freezing, dummy!”

“Do you feel like you’re getting warmed up, even while you’re sitting here with me wrapped up in this tarp?”

I had her there.

“Well, n-n-no, not so you’d n-n-n-notice.”

“Okay, and doesn’t it make sense that being real close to another body and not having wet clothes on would warm you up faster.”

She thought about it and nodded twice.

“And if one of the bodies, namely mine, happened to get all excited about being in close personal contact with a naked girl, don’t you think that would generate even more heat?”

Without another word, Laurie stood up and pulled her dress over her head, pushed her panties down, unhooked her bra and shrugged out of it. She stood there naked, turning blue and covered with goosebumps. I hadn’t moved.

She grabbed me by the front of my shirt and jerked me onto my feet. “Why are you just s-s-s-sitting there, you little t-t-t-twerp? This was all your idea, wasn’t it?!”

A Middle English phrase flashed through my mind, “Faint heart never won fair lady.” In less than a minute, I stood in front of her naked as a jaybird, dick already growing, although I doubt she was all that turned on by it, considering her state.

I spread the tarp out on the dirt floor. We sat in the middle, looked at each other, laid on our backs and pulled the tarp over us. We turned onto our sides facing each other and wrapped our arms around each other. There was really nothing to be said; I held her in a bear hug, squeezing her soft girl’s body against my bony boy’s body as she continued to shiver.

 
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