Copyright© 2004-2007 Janna Leonard

I can't remember when I first felt the attraction to my brother, perhaps it was as early as the womb. We were fraternal twins, Benjamin and Bonnie. We were the only kids our parents had, and according to Mom we were enough. Very different and almost never dressing alike, we were still two peas from the same pod. Ben's eyes were blue and mine were light gray; his hair was short and blond, mine was long and dark. If you didn't know we were related, you could have never guessed by our appearance.

We owned a ranch/farm combination in the plains of North Dakota, 3800 acres in all. (For you city slickers, that almost six square miles of dirt under fence) The nearest town was Cameron, five miles away down a mostly gravel road. Population was about 450, most of them just like us. The school, a couple of bars, the grocery store, and the usual gas stations near the interstate, along with the grain elevator and the oil company comprised the town. For Wal-Mart and the like we traveled to Bismarck, 85 miles away.

School was hard for both of us and living so far out meant there was little chance of after-school activities. There was always work around the ranch, feeding the stock or fixing fences. I learned to drive the tractor when I was twelve, mowing hay for the cows. Ben got to drive the combine and one of the pickups during harvest, while I was relegated to the kitchen to help Mom feed the temporary workers.

Puberty at fourteen became awkward for me as I suddenly became aware of my body and it's unique requirements. Ben and I had been inseparable from the first, sharing a room in the small farmhouse. Our shared moments of casual nudity in the bath or the creek became embarrassing for us both as we stared at the changes taking place. One problem was that Ben and I had slept together since I could remember, and I was lonely. Mom said it was okay to share the room but not the bed anymore, 'because I was a woman now'. It was a frustrating and confusing time for me; I'd lost half of myself and didn't know why.

Cuddling my pillows at night, I dreamt of Ben and the comfort I'd experienced being near him, being touched and held while I slept. We still talked and did our homework together, but I wanted to recapture the closeness we had shared as youngsters. I tolerated the situation as best I could until we turned fifteen, the frustration building to bursting point. The planting was done, summer was almost here and I decided if I didn't act soon, I'd lose him forever.

One night as we readied for bed, I said, "Ben, we have to talk."

Putting down his magazine, he sat up and said, "Okay."

"Where did we go? What's happened to the us I used to know?"

"We're still here, we're just different people," he smiled.

"We're not different! We're the same as before, only something's happened," I blubbered, unable to hold back the tears.

He stood and walked the few feet separating our beds and sat with me, curling his arm around my shoulder.

"We grew up," he said softly, wiping a tear from my face.

"Don't you miss me in the bed?" I asked, afraid of his answer.

"Of course I do, but after you started having your monthlies and Dad talked to me, I figured we'd better not," he replied.

"Why?" I cried. "Were you afraid we'd start having sex?"

He considered that for a moment and said, "No, but I think that's what they are afraid of."

I'd never considered the possibility of sex with Ben or any boy, preferring to satisfy myself with my fingers.

"You're very pretty," he said, smoothing my hair back and kissing my cheek.

"You're not helping the situation," I said, laughing despite my feelings.

"Ever thought about dating somebody?" he asked.

"Who'd want to drive all the way to the house?" I replied. He nodded and I said, "Besides, it's not 'somebody' I want to be close to, it's you."

He walked to the window and stared out for a few minutes, not saying a word. Afraid that I had scared him or offended in some unknown way, I walked to him and hugged him from the back, slipping my arms around his waist.

"Remember when we were kids," I said, "and we used to play in the hayloft?"

"Mmm," he said.

"Remember swimming in the creek?" I asked, putting my head on his shoulder.

"Mm-hm," he replied.

"What I really miss is you holding me as I fall asleep," I whispered. My secret was out in the open at last.

He turned and took me in his arms, his limp manhood bumping my stomach as he took me in his arms and hugged me tight. "I know."

I cried quietly for a while, getting his shoulder wet and soaking in the comfort and love I'd been without for so long. I recovered a little, and he said, "You'd better take a shower before it gets too late," and put a kiss on my forehead. I nodded and walked to the bathroom, stripping off my clothes.

When I came out in my nightie, the only light in the room was his bedside lamp turned low, and he said, "Come here." As I went to him he threw the covers back and patted the mattress next to him. "Is here okay?"

I grinned and climbed in, snuggling closely, pushing my butt against his stomach. He had his shorts on but I could still feel the bulge of his equipment nestled in my crack. Uncaring, I pulled his arm over me and placed his hand on my belly and held it there.

"Thank you," I whispered.

You're welcome," he whispered back. "G'night".

'Night," I said, feeling once again that I was where I belonged.

The next few nights were bliss for me as I hugged and slept close to my other half. My attitude improved and my disposition was positively sunny as I went about my daily chores.

Dad came up to us just before lunch one day and said, "We've got about 60 head loose over on Ned's place. Can you two go over there and get them back without killing yourselves?"

Normally an adult's job, rounding up strays was difficult and dangerous. Proud at being chosen for the job, we hurried through lunch and saddled our horses. My mare, Domino, was seven years old and easy to get ready. Ben's horse, Dancer, was a four-year-old gelding that was green-broke and nervous. Going up the west fence line to see where they'd gotten out, I put Domino into an easy canter and stood up in the stirrups, letting her run. Dancer followed, snorting and blowing as he smelled the great outdoors.

A mile or two up we found the hole; about 30 yards of barbed wire was on the ground and the poles were snapped off. The cattle were all within 500 yards, contentedly munching on the grass in Ned's pasture. Ned's Jeep was parked on a rise watching them, and we waved as we gathered them in a group and herded them back. Once they were all back inside our property line, we tethered the horses and proceeded to repair the fence. The posts would have to wait for another day, but we could restring the wire temporarily to keep all but the most determined inside.

Finished, I took off my gloves and wiped my forehead, grinning at Ben.

"That wasn't so hard!" I laughed.

"No, not this time," he agreed.

"It's early yet, wanna go for a swim?"

"Where?"

"Creek," I replied.

He nodded and we mounted, letting the horses walk in that direction.

"I didn't bring a suit," he said, as we arrived among the trees that surrounded the creek bed.

"I didn't either," I smiled, dropping Domino's reins to the ground.

She'd stay near me as long as she had grass to eat and water to drink, and I hoped Dancer would follow her example. The creek was actually a small stream, winding and bending it's way through the low ground on the back of our land. Cottonwoods grew near the edge, providing shade and cover. I stripped off everything but my panties and looked at him. He took off all his clothes except his underwear, and then he blushed.

"Ready?" I asked.

He stared at my chest, mesmerized by the sight of my small breasts.

Coughing to cover his embarrassment at being caught, he said, "I guess."

I grabbed his hand and yelled, "Come on then!" dragging him toward the water.

I waded in and he followed, getting into the spirit of the occasion and pulling on my ankle, trying to dunk me. We splashed and played for a few minutes in the cold water, dunking each other at will. Tired and flushed with play, we got out and sat on the grass at the bank, dangling our toes in the water. I took off my underwear, wrung them out and hung them on a branch.

"What are you doing?" he asked, blushing.

"Can't ride home with a wet butt, can I?" I replied, smiling at him.

"Guess not," he said and removed his, hanging them next to mine.

I glanced at his groin and saw his limp penis nestled in the hair, held up by his testicles. It was much hairier than the last time I'd laid eyes on it, and I thought it was beautiful.

"You grew," I said, nodding my head in the direction of his crotch.

"So did you," he replied. "I was beginning to wonder if your bumps would ever get bigger."

"You like 'em?" I asked, lowering my eyes, very much aware of his gaze.

"They're pretty," he said quietly. "I like the way the ends tip up."

We sat in silence, each lost in our own thoughts for a while, enjoying our closeness. I checked my panties and they were almost dry, so I put them on, shivering with the feeling of the dampness hitting the warmth between my legs. I pulled up my pants and tugged on the zipper, watching him do the same only two feet away. On impulse, I closed the distance between us and stood directly in front of him, putting my hands on his hips. I kissed his nose and looked into his eyes, smiling. He kissed my forehead as I took his hands and slid them up my ribcage, pressing his palms against the sides of my breasts. I kissed him on the mouth then; a slow, lingering kiss of love, without the tongue and the passion that I felt inside, but enough to let him know I was his if he wanted me. His thumbs rubbed my nipples, making me moan softly as they hardened from his touch.

He backed away afterwards, shaking his head to clear it and said, "Come on. We'd better go."

I put on my bra and snapped it shut, then put on my shirt and tucked it in. Whistling for Domino, I prepared to ride home.

Riding back we didn't say much, and I examined my emotions. I was no stranger to sex, I'd seen the calves born and the dogs mating since I was six. Anyone raised on a farm knows the basics of reproduction early in life. I wanted to share with Ben, but did that mean becoming his lover? Did I want his penis inside me, did I want the intimacy of the act itself, or did I want the nearness of him? Much more important to me was what he wanted. Would our relationship crumble if I pushed myself on him and perhaps forced him to do something we both thought was wrong? As we rode into the yard and put the horses away, I decided to let things happen naturally. I wouldn't push or demand; I'd simply be available if he needed me.

We never repeated our scene at the creek, although I began going topless to bed, cuddling on his chest with my bare breasts, and going to sleep with his heartbeat in my ear. I quit locking the door to the bathroom as I showered, realizing I didn't mind if he saw me naked. He would snap his towel at my butt sometimes as we traded places and laugh "Gotcha!" as I squealed with the sting. Things were normal again, and I was happy.

Fall came, bringing harvest and school. Flush with cash from our chores, we went with the folks to Bismarck and shopped for clothes and school supplies, spending the day in the city and eating dinner out. No bus was available to give us a ride to school, so Dad said we could use the pickup to ride back and forth.

Each morning as I got dressed, no longer shy with my body, I'd ask Ben, "How do I look?"

He would nod his acceptance of my outfit or suggest a different blouse, smiling, "Great!"

I had to admit I was dressing for him and not my classmates. I wasn't interested in anyone's opinion but his.

The cold weather started, and we usually ran the pickup for ten minutes before beginning our trip. Bundling up in our parkas and snow boots, we shivered to keep warm until the heater kicked in. Evenings we'd do our homework at the kitchen table, watch a little TV, and get ready for bed. Whoever got into their bed first and warmed it up was the bed of choice for that night, and the other would bring their pillow and cuddle in, whispering comments about our day. I wore flannel pajamas most of the time without anything underneath, needing the body heat from him. His were cotton and he normally only wore the bottoms, leaving his chest bare for me to snuggle against.

Our pillow talk was quiet most nights; the folks were going to sleep in their room and we didn't like to get yelled at. He gradually confessed that he had missed me terribly, but being a man meant not showing your emotions and he had kept his mouth shut, swallowing his disappointment. It was during these conversations, a quiet sharing of touch and breath and perhaps a soft kiss or two, that I fell in love with him. I'd loved him before, but differently. Once I realized the extent of my feelings, I knew I'd be with him always. I don't know how many times after that I fell asleep with his hand curled around the curve of one of my breasts or on my belly, his fingertips resting in my pubic hair.

Christmas came and we didn't have to go to school, glad for the break in our routine. It snowed frequently, requiring the use of a rope to get from the house to the barn to check the animals during the worst of the storms. Being lost outside with the possibility of freezing to death within shouting distance of the house was entirely possible and to be avoided at all costs. I got a new bridle for Domino and some new clothes as gifts, while Ben received the keys to a near-new pickup for his use.

(Editors note: Temperatures sometimes reach 40 and 50 below zero, with the wind chills approaching 75 and 80 below--those of you who don't believe are invited to visit during January. North Dakota is not the coldest spot in the nation, either.)

I noticed that Ben had developed a habit of snuggling with me for a while and then getting out of bed, ostensibly to use the bathroom. I knew he was relieving the sexual tension by jerking off; sometimes I could hear him grunting as he climaxed. I would use the time alone to finger myself, getting a quickie of a shiver and dampening the back of my pajamas. I didn't want to push, but I knew that sex for us was inevitable. I had to be patient.

One night as he threw the covers back to get out of bed, I put my hand on his chest and said, "Let me."

"Let you what?" he asked.

I slipped my hand under the waistband of his PJs and cradled his warm flesh, stroking the half-hardness and trailing my fingertips over his testicles.

"Do it for you," I whispered, grasping him firmly and beginning to stroke up and down.

"Uhhmm, it's liable to be messy," he hissed back.

"I know. I've got some tissues," I said.

He didn't move or say no, so I grabbed his waistband and pulled it down, exposing his cock. He arched his hips and pulled them down some more, shivering as the cold air hit his genitals. I propped myself up on one elbow and stroked him firmly but gently, watching it swell with the attention. His tip was in view, the crown flared and purple looking, straining upward to its full length. It didn't take long and I was treated to a throbbing in my hand as his cock released its load on his stomach; several squirts of hot, milky looking fluid. I continued to pump gently as he groaned quietly and bucked his hips, then the last of it dribbled onto the back of my hand.

"God!" he whispered, shaking his head.

I wiped the mess from my hand and his belly, throwing the tissues in the basket near the bed.

I pulled up the covers and asked, "Better now?" when I was done.

"Mmm-hmm," he sighed, wrapping his arms around me.

Before I drifted off, the last thing I think I heard him say was a soft "I love you."

In the morning I made sure I took our trash out to the burn barrel, aware that our relationship had again shifted. I enjoyed making him happy, and if that was what it took I didn't care. I also knew that if Mom ever found out, there'd be hell to pay. I continued to jerk him off a couple times a week, using a warm washcloth to wipe up the mess each time, because I might forget the tissues in the trash. When I took it from its hiding place each night, I would rinse it out and get it ready for use, smiling at the thought.

It warmed in March and the rains came, washing away the last of the snow and creating vast amounts of mud everywhere. We slid off the road into the ditch one morning on the way to school, so we walked back to the house for three miles in a driving rainstorm. Dad got the tractor and took Ben back to pull it out, leaving me alone in the house with my mother. I changed into dry clothes and came into the kitchen as she poured a cup of coffee. I grabbed a mug and followed suit; it was too late to go to school and I thought an unscheduled day off would be nice.

"You two okay?" she asked.

"Got wet, but we're fine," I assured her.

"You're in love, aren't you?" she asked, startling me.

"No, I don't think so," I replied, thinking about Ben's arms around me.

"You better be careful," she admonished, shaking her finger at me.

"I will, don't worry," I said, uncertain of what she meant.

Did she know, had she heard us late at night? A sudden chill ran up my spine at the possibility, and I drank from my cup to hide my face.