Chapter 6

I heard Sally sigh and looked down, and she was almost asleep. I stopped moving as her breath slid into an easy slow rhythm. She had fallen asleep on me.

Of course, I was stiff as a baseball bat, and my dick’s dripping like Gracie’s nipples had just this afternoon. I was very OK with that. I rolled to my side, facing her, and sleep slowly came to me. I was thinking about her as I slid off to sleep. I dreamed of her as I slept.

Day Three

I woke gently feeling light spidery, feeling fingers gently playing with my balls. I opened one eye and closed it. Sally gently felt around, checking out my boys and stroking the wrinkled skin, getting a feel for it. I drew in a deep breath as if I was waking up.

She didn’t stop what she was doing.

She turned to me and asked, “Did I wake you?” as she continued to feel me up.

“Yes, I am sure you know that, plus this is an extraordinary way to wake up.”

“Well, I have seen it on occasion but never had this opportunity to really see your dick up-close and touch you. After last night I figure this is all right to do now?”

“Yes, more than all right. It’s the next step in your journey, so to speak.”

“Next step?”

“Oh yes. There are several other steps along the way.”

“Like what?”

“How do you think men and women have sex?”

“I don’t know. I have never seen it. Does the woman bend over, and the man mounts her from behind like a goat?”

“Ha ha ha, no, sorry, can’t help myself. If I were to do that, you would be forced onto the ground. Four-legged animals do it that way. Men and women do it in bed with the man on top of the woman. They can see each other that way and enjoy each other.”

She looked down at her sex as she looked at me. She continued gently fingering the boys and occasionally feeling my cock. Sally said, “I don’t see how that works. I think the place it goes is around the bend down there,” she points down.

“I’ll show you. Get up a second. Now lay down on the bed in the center. Move your legs apart, and open more. All right, stay there.”

I slowly came up from the bottom of the bed, and her eyes got wide. Then she started to understand where I was going. I knelt into position, placed my glans at the gates of heaven, and twitched my cock, eliciting an “Oh!” I felt lubricated enough, so I ran the head up and down her pussy lips several times for effect.

“OH! So that’s how it’s done.” She said worriedly.

I jumped back, lay down, and said, “That’s how people usually do it. Another way is I could be on the bottom with you on top. That works just as well. Then there are many other ways of doing it, but we are talking a long time from now.

“Sally, For now, we need to go slow, experiment, and get to know one another. We should cuddle and smooch every chance we get. Then occasionally, we touch or caress each other, not driving ourselves to do ‘it.’ I ask but one thing.”

“What?”

“Keep what we do between us. Your sisters need to learn these things at the same slow pace. That will be much more enjoyable for them and for me. This includes Gracie, as I could tell. She had a man that did the old hump and jump on her.”

“Hump and jump? Huh. I don’t know. Not talking with my sisters seems unnatural somehow. We are females, after all, and we talk about everything.” She smiled.

“Hump and jump are how rabbits do it. Just tell your sisters fundamental things like the position I showed you, but none of what I do to you.

“If we bring Vi into our relationship next year, she will want me to do it immediately, if not sooner.

“For her, it will all be over in a few painful seconds, and she may have a horrible experience. It could very well color her thoughts on sex for a while. That’s no way to do it.”

“Immediately, if not sooner? Um, I see what you’re saying and why you and I are going slow. Gracie told me her swain really was no fun at all. It hurt every time they did it. Hey, how do you know all this stuff?”

“Well, you know women talk about stuff.”

“Yes.”

“What makes you think men don’t share things? I don’t remember it exactly, but I suspect I had discussions with my father.

“This is an important conversation that fathers and sons should have. Especially when away from women. I take it others don’t do this?”

The trite saying “happy wife, happy life” popped into my head. I knew I would regret saying this nasty little saying for the rest of my life.

I continued, “Animals just stick it in, grunt. Then they are about their business a few moments later like nothing happened. This is known by the rude term fucking. A smart man goes slow, draws it out a while to luxuriate in the woman and enjoy the act of mating.

“They take their time and help their partners feel good along with them like I think you just did. It makes it better for both partners. The intimacy helps bond you as a couple. Babies should be the result of coming together in love, not pain or fear of it. This is what making love is.”

“No, I never heard of men doing anything like this, and men don’t seem to talk much. My experience is they grunt a lot and occasionally growl at you.”

“Haha. Maybe your Grandpa never talked to your Pa. That may have had something to do with him going off from the family. He wasn’t sure of what or who he was.”

“Mum said Da’s father was also a wanderer, so that’s part of why he became one too?”

“So, your Da grew up without a father. Nobody of the male persuasion to talk with about male subjects. Men and women need a good amount of social interaction. Only then can they understand what other people are thinking or doing. This is how you develop empathy.”

“I think I see what you are getting at.”

“Do you know why you need empathy?”

“Maybe.”

“Because you just can’t go around choking the crap out of everyone that disagrees with you. Haha.”

“Ha, haha. Yes, I see that could be a problem.”

“So, what are we doing today?”

“I will show you around our farm since it’s not much like yours.”

“Very good.”

“But first we should wash our face and hands, and then we get to eat gruel.”

“Gruel?”

“Yes, that’s my word for porridge.”

“Don’t you put things in it to spice it up?”

“We don’t do that here.”

“We will, or at least I will if I’m to live here. At the least is a dash of salt, or the ‘gruel’ would taste pasty, but with even less flavor.”

“I think it’s a frugality thing. Not sure Mum thinks we can afford it.”

“Let’s stop over at my house. I really need a change of clothes, anyway.”

“Good, a quick walk will wake us up.” We put our wraps on and went to the small bathroom to wash up. Back in the room, we changed to leave.

Gracie was stirring the “gruel” in the kitchen, so I popped in for a quick smooch, a tit rub on my chest, and a hug. Sally and I told her we were going to my home so I could get some fresh clothes.

“Don’t hurry. I’m up because Bea wanted to change and her breakfast. This won’t be ready for at least a half-hour.”

We went down the steps and took off for my house. Nobody was awake at home, so we quietly went to my room, and I changed. Mum stuck her head in.

“Are you going back?”

“Yes, ma’am. I really needed to change clothes.”

“I wondered if you were ever going to change clothes. Boys and dogs don’t seem to care if they stink.”

“I care, at least I think I do. I just don’t know how the laundry is handled here.”

“Oh, I guess that answers that question. Leave them on your floor. One of us will handle that for you.”

“Thank you, Mum.”

“How are you getting along?”

Sally said, “We get along better than ever. Since he came back to us, he is a sweet guy, and even Gracie likes him now.”

“Oh my, even Gracie now, that’s something else.”

“Yes, I will have to keep my eye on them. Who knows what trouble they might get into if I’m not watching over them?”

“Uh-huh, so everything is calmed down at your house?”

“Yes, very much so. Maybe this is all because Donny was having those headaches. He complained about headaches for quite a while now. He has been a real sweety since he woke back up.”

“I bet that’s it.”

I asked, “Can I borrow a cup of milk and a little sugar? They don’t eat porridge. They eat gruel, which is some form of evil torture.”

“Hey,” Sally said, gently slapping my arm.

“Trust me, you’ll like my version of porridge better than your gruel.”

“Well, it’s not really gruel. I think that it has dubious old pieces of meat and unidentifiable vegetables. Still, we kids hate it because it’s the same bland thing day after day.”

“Yes, we mix it up over here.”

We popped into the kitchen and got a cup of milk from the crock and a half cup of brown sugar, and I swiped an apple too.

As we walked back to her house, I asked her how her family was doing. It appeared that I would be another mouth to feed. I didn’t want to be just a rooster kept around for breeding purposes. Particularly if it would strain the Brights’ ability to provide for themselves.

“I think it’s my Mum. She has money put by, but my Da never comes through town anymore and never sends us any money either.”

“Well, if I’m going to live with your family, I need to bring in some income somehow.”

“Oh, we have that planned.”

“You do, do you? Well, can you kindly share that with me?”

“Uhhh ... Our farm grows flax. That’s where most of our income comes from.” We want to clear more land and add maybe two or three acres per year.”

“Wow, not sure about clearing land. Have you looked at my skinny arms lately? I am not sure I am up to chopping down trees and dragging them off.”

“It was all clear until ten years ago. It’s mostly brush and a few skinny saplings that need clearing. When my Dad was here, he grew twice as much flax as we do today. We are farming as much as we women can handle.

“Flax is mostly easy to grow except at planting and harvest times. Most of the year, we just watch it pop up and grow. Our family and the Indian girls will help you out. It will be easy. We have been farming flax for several years by ourselves.