Chapter 9

What we “found to do”, after Dad basically kicked us out of the house, was ironically the same as why he kicked us out of the house. During most of that time we despoiled the emergency blanket Mom insists we keep in the car. In theory it’s for Dad to use if he has to get down on the ground to affect some repair to the car while we’re on a trip, or to use to keep warm if the car breaks down during winter. We used it for an entirely other purpose.

First, though, we found a digital voice recorder at Radio Shack for $39.49 and got batteries to go with it. That took all of twenty minutes.

Then Bobby drove to one of the parking areas along the linear trail through town. It was built on an old railroad bed. The tracks and ties were gone, and the surface had a coarse sand on it. Lots of people biked on it, and ran. A few, like us, walked. Bobby had run it lots of times in football training.

He took me to a place where the woods and brush looked really thick, but there was an opening off to one side.

“I found this when I had to take a dump and couldn’t wait,” he said, helpfully.

“How romantic,” I groaned. “We’re not going to lie down on your poop, are we?”

“No,” he scoffed.

There was a trail, of sorts, and we’d gone quite a ways before I realized it was made by animals, not humans. I thought it wasn’t going to work out, but then we broke into an opening about twenty feet in diameter. I could see where a big tree had fallen down, long ago. The trunk of the tree was still there, but it was rotten and in a few more years would disappear back into dirt. When it fell, though, it created an opening in the woods that hadn’t filled back in, yet.

It was surreal as I shook out the blanket and Bobby picked up things he thought might poke us. I imagined my great aunt doing this, seventy some-odd years ago. I felt the excitement and passion she might have felt. I anticipated seeing Bobby’s muscled chest just like she must have anticipated seeing Herb’s naked body. I had thought I’d be reluctant to get naked out somewhere where a passing stranger might see me, but all I felt was the itch to be free of my clothes, and rub my naked body against Bobby’s.

It was entirely different than making love at home. First of all, the sun shone down on us, warming my skin. Then there was the wind, and the little noises it made as it moved thousands of leaves and made them brush against each other. The “bed” was lumpy, but that was only different, not bad.

All of that, especially having the sun on my skin while I lay against Bobby’s naked body, brought a whole new aspect to making love. I understood deep in my bones why Aunt Jennifer loved this so much, and how the fact she was doing it with her brother made not a whit of difference. The wind, rustling my hair also cooled my body as he got over me.

He slid in and we both expressed groans of delight. Then he stopped, deep inside me.

“I forgot the fucking condom!” he moaned.

“If you stop now, you’ll never need another condom, because I’ll rip your cock and balls off,” I said. I reached to grip his ass cheeks, but my nails are too short to dig them in.

“Where are you in your cycle?” he panted. I could feel his penis flexing inside me. My clit was under pressure, but it wanted more.

“Safe!” I gasped.

I’ll be honest. I didn’t know where I was in my cycle at that moment. I could have stopped and calculated things, but I wasn’t interested in doing that. Mother Nature had me in her jaws and was shaking me, again. I just said what I knew would keep him going.

“Good!”he groaned, and then he started doing what he knew I liked him to do.

He came within maybe a minute. He was just too excited. I felt his hot jets, but he didn’t stop. He stayed deep and kept rubbing my clit with the base of his penis. I don’t know whether I just got there, or it was because he came in me (which I love most of all) but just as I started to be unable to feel the pressure of an erect penis in me, I came. Oddly, I didn’t scream, this time. Instead I huffed and puffed. I remember laughing because as I huffed and puffed, I thought about the three little pigs and had a very quick fantasy that, while one of them was fucking the crap out of a cute little girl pig, the Big Bad Wolf (me) huffed and puffed and blew his house down. Maybe it was the wind on my face. I don’t know. All I know is that I loved doing this, out in nature, with the elements playing into it.

“Sorry,” he gasped. He’d never heard me have that kind of orgasm before, and didn’t think I’d cum, yet.

“You can go again, later,” I huffed.

Then I blew in his face and said, “I’m going to eat you all up!”

I did eat him all up, sucking his limp penis into my mouth and, basically, chewing on it with soft teeth.

“Easy!” he yelped.

I sucked and kissed, and then played with his balls, which were hanging so low in their stretchy sack that I knew if he was squatting, they’d swing back and forth like a clock pendulum.

I suddenly remembered a little ditty I’d learned to sing in the seventh grade. I sang it, now.

“Doooo, your balls hang low? Do they wobble to and fro? Can you tie them in a knot? Can you tie them in a bow? Can you throw them over your shoulder like a Continental Soldier? Do your baaalls, hang, low?“

“Are you crazy?” he laughed. Then he sang the boy’s version of the song.

“Doooo, your boobs hang low? Do they wobble to and fro? Can you tie them in a knot? Can you tie them in a bow? Can you throw them over your shoulder like a Continental Soldier? Do your boooobs, hang, low?“

We laughed, and then lay, side by side, fingers entwined, letting the sun beat down on us.

“I wish we had a house with a back yard that had a big privacy fence around it, so we could do this any time we liked,” he sighed.

“Me, too,” I said.

He rolled on his side, facing me.

“We could go to college together,” he said. “I mean go to the same college.”

“And live together?” I said. I had had this fantasy before, but it had never really seemed like it could play out in real life.

He nodded.

“It would never work,” I said. “You’d get me pregnant within a year.”

“Not if you were on the pill,” he said.

“Do you know Julie Simmons, at school?”

“You mean the cheerleader who got pregnant?”

I nodded.

“She was on the pill,” I said. “It doesn’t always work.”

“Okay, condoms, then,” he said.

“You have a brand new ten pack and you never remember to have one on you,” I said.

“But if we live together, they’d be right there and easy to get,” he argued.

“Bobby, I love you, and I love this, but we have to have real lives. I want to have children some day, and they can’t be yours.”

“I know,” he sighed. “It would be great for a few more years, though.”

“And what if I met the man of my dreams, and brought him home, and he stayed the night?” I asked.

“I’d have to kill him, of course,” he said. He wasn’t smiling.

“Which is why we can’t live together at college,” I said.

“What if I brought a hot girl home and she stayed the night?” he asked, belligerently.

“I’d warn her to carry a condom with her at all times,” I said. I did smile.

“Crap!” he said.

“What’s wrong?”

“Thinking about you in your bedroom with some guy made me get stiff again.”

“This is a bad thing?”

“I don’t understand it,” he sighed.

“Well, you just lie there on your back while I have a little ride, and think about it.”

I crawled over him, reached for his cock, and settled down on it with a sigh.

“Mmmm, I love this. You go so deep in me this way.”

I looked down at him and leaned forward until my face was close to his.

“What’s your name again? We just met at the Student Union and I can’t remember your name.”

“Fuck you,” he grunted, but I saw his pupils change.

“We are fucking,” I said. “Which reminds me. You didn’t have a condom. That’s pretty thoughtless. So you can’t cum in me. I might get pregnant.”

“I thought I was the love of your life,” he said. I realized he was willing to play this silly game. “It shouldn’t matter if I get you pregnant. In fact, I’m gonna get you pregnant with twins!“

I started jerking on him. It felt delicious.

“Okay,” I panted. “But just twins. No triplets, okay?”

“Yes!” he grunted, reaching for my hanging boobs. I sat back up a little and he started playing with my nipples.

“Yeah, I like that,” I huffed.

“These nipples will squirt milk to feed my twins,” he gasped.

I realized he was close, and I didn’t want him going off too soon. I stopped and put my hands on his chest.

“Calm down, bucko,” I said. “Let’s not make twins in me just yet. Mamma needs to get her cookies first.”

“I don’t know if I can wait,” he blurted.

I pulled off of him. It made me feel empty and forlorn.

He started to object, but I kissed him. I rubbed my boobs across his chest, which was covered with a sheen of sweat and was slippery. I lifted my lips from his.

“Don’t leave me high and dry,” I whispered. “Love me and let me cum on your magnificent penis before you make those twins in me.”

“You are so mean,” he panted.

“I am so craving a magnificent orgasm while I’m riding your magnificent prick,” I said.

“That’s not helping,” he said.

I reached to jack on his cock a little. It was still rock hard. I remounted him and said, “Don’t talk. Let me do my thing. Then we’ll talk about letting you cum.”

“Okay,” he said.

I started rubbing again, and arched my back so my breasts pushed towards his face. He lifted his head and sucked each nipple, switching back and forth. I could have cum on his cock alone in about five minutes, but the added stimulation of his lips on my nips got me there two minutes earlier.

“Ohhhhh yeah,” I groaned, having yet another kind of orgasm. “You have to promise you’ll keep doing this to me even after we’re married and have kids.”

“Shit, Jenn,” he groaned.

I felt that lovely bloom of heat and knew I’d just kicked him over the cliff.

I had to be satisfied with two loads of his warm cum in me. We’d been gone for two hours, and it would take us another twenty minutes to get home. We got dressed and I put my hair in a ponytail so you couldn’t tell I’d been rolling around on the ground while my brother thrust into me over and over until his lovely penis erupted in my pussy. He folded up the blanket and we retraced our steps out to the linear trail.

When we got home, and showed them the new recorder, they said they were impressed.

Apparently we’d cut it pretty close.

Mom’s cheeks were still rosy and she should have put her hair in a ponytail, too.

During the week before we went to visit Grandpa Rick and Uncle Bill, Bobby and I cooled it, relatively speaking. Seeing as how our record for practicing safe sex was so dismal, and seeing as how that week spanned the fertile part of my (new?) cycle, I wouldn’t let him put it in me. I did suck the yummy cum out of his penis almost every day, and he did stimulate my clit effectively. It was tempting to get naked with him, but I held firm. My sixteenth birthday was coming up in a month and I thought it would be a lot happier birthday if I hadn’t missed another period before it happened.

Grandpa Rick had changed, over the years. When I was little, he read me books and told wild stories about ogres and dragons and knights in shining armor. As he got older, though, and I was too big to sit on his lap, there was less and less interaction between us. Then he went into assisted living and visits with him seemed strained, somehow. He usually sat in his recliner, because he had trouble getting up, and had to use a walker to get around. Plus, we didn’t see him as often. He just sat there, for the most part, replying to things the adults said, but I didn’t get any quality time with him anymore. He wasn’t demented, or anything, but his memory seemed spotty, too.

I was afraid it would be the same way this time. So I took the diary that had been stashed with other things that were clearly his. The war souvenirs couldn’t have been anybody else’s, and I hoped he was the one who had packed them away. That would mean he had packed his sister’s diary away, too.

I was afraid Mom and Dad would decide to stay and listen to his interview, but after fifteen minutes of his monosyllabic conversation, they decided to go over to Uncle Bill’s. Dad told me to call him when we were finished, and he’d come get us.

I pulled a chair up next to his recliner and showed him the recorder. I told him Bobby and I wanted to ask him some questions about his life. He raised his eyebrows at me and Bobby, like a bull in a china shop, said, “We found this old trunk and it had a lot of cool stuff in it that we think you brought back from the war.”

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The Summer of '42

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