The Bad Bet
Copyright© 2009 by Lubrican
Chapter 12
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 12 - AJ just wanted a drink when he pushed past the sodbuster woman standing timidly outside of the saloon. But there was trouble inside that saloon and, like usual, he just couldn't manage to stay out of it. Within ten minutes he was running for his life and passing that same woman again, this time as he spurred his horse hard. The third time he crossed paths with the woman - well - they say the third time's the charm.
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Consensual Reluctant Heterosexual Historical Incest First Oral Sex Petting Pregnancy Slow
Frank's hands gripped his sister's ankle as she slowly stepped down. While he guided her foot to a branch, he stared unabashedly between her legs. In this position he was closer than ever to her as he looked up her dress. He was fascinated by the tuft of hair above those pouting lips that pulled open as she stretched one foot down, while the other was still firmly on an upper branch. It looked dark between those pale lips, like there was a tiny cave inside her body.
They were half way down by the time that Becky figured out he was looking up her dress. She discovered it when, instead of putting her foot on a branch, he moved it to one side and just held it there.
"What are you doing?" she asked, looking down. His eyes were staring straight up her skirt.
"Nothing," he said, and blushed.
"You were looking up my dress!" she yelped.
"Maybe a little," he said, somehow knowing he shouldn't have been doing it.
"You're going to get a whipping if I tell Mamma," she said, suddenly in older sister mode.
"Don't tell her!" he moaned. "I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. You're so pretty."
"I'm pretty under my dress?!" she gasped.
He blinked. "Well ... yes ... I guess so," he said.
He was still holding her foot to one side, and his eyes still darted back and forth from her frowning face to her privates. She tried to close her legs, and he let go.
"I think I can do it by myself now," she said, trying to decide why she didn't feel as angry about him peeking at her as she thought she should.
"Oh ... all right," he said.
"And stop looking up my dress," she barked.
"Sure," he said, blushing.
But the fact was that, as she climbed down the rest of the way, whenever she looked down, he was looking up. She felt confused, more than angry, because his avid interest in her made her feel good, somehow. She had no experience in life that could be associated with the vampish behavior some women employed to ensnare a male. She'd never had occasion to see such behavior in a woman, with the possible exception of her mother displaying her naked body to AJ. Yet, having seen AJ's avid interest in seeing her mother naked had made an impression on her subconscious. And her subconscious associated Frank Jr.'s avid interested in peeking up her skirts with what she'd seen in the back of the wagon.
Once back on the ground, both youth were blushing and breathing deeply. Frank picked up his "new" hat, which he'd left on the ground by the trunk and put it back on his head.
Both tried to ignore what had happened, though for different reasons. Frank Jr. ignored it hoping that she'd forget what he perceived as his gaff, and not tell their mother. Becky ignored it because it was too confusing to try to parse out how she felt about it.
They continued their exploration, breaking out of the trees and into the bright sun and the relative cool of the shade. By the time they wandered back to the pond, both were hot and sweaty. Some of the steers had waded into the water and were standing shoulder deep.
"I bet it's cool in there," observed Frank Jr., wiping taking off his hat to wipe his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. He put the hat back on. His sweat had dampened the hatband, and it now fit his head better. The previous owner's head had been a bit smaller, apparently.
"I don't see why you wear that stupid hat," said Becky, staring at the bullet hole.
"It's the only hat I got," said her brother, shrugging.
"It's creepy," said Becky.
"Like I said," said Frank Jr., ignoring her, "I bet it's cool in the water. Want to get in it?"
"With the cows?" She was obviously disgusted by the idea.
"They won't hurt you," he said.
"I know that!" she snapped. "But it's probably all muddy now."
"Maybe," said Frank Jr. "But I bet it's cool." He started taking off his shirt. "We can call it a bath."
Becky's mind chewed on that. She remembered their last bath, and married that with what had just happened in the tree.
"You just want to see me in my altogether," she accused.
"I'll look the other way until you're in the water, if you want," he said. "All I'm thinking is that it's hot, and that the water will be cool." He dropped his shirt and undid his pants. "Besides, didn't Mamma say that it was all right for family to see each other in the altogether?"
Becky blinked. Her mother had said that, in that creek bed. And she'd seen Frank Jr. all stiff like that too, and hadn't chastised him. She couldn't make her eyes look away as he dropped his pants, exposing what she had felt pushing into her backside only a few moments past. It wasn't hard now, and she looked at it curiously. It was dangly. He sat down to take off his boots and she couldn't see it any more. In a flurry of movement Frank Jr. got naked and then stood up, unashamed, and walked carefully into the water. He didn't tell her he could feel the mud oozing between his toes. The water wasn't as cool as he expected either, but it still felt good. He went in to his shoulders and waved his arms around, moving the water.
"It's nice," he announced.
Becky stood there, undecided. She felt sweat running down one cheek and wiped at it absently. She felt another rivulet of sweat run between her breasts. She looked down to see that sweat was staining the front of her dress, over her stomach.
"You promise you won't look?" she asked suddenly.
"Sure," he said, carelessly. He turned ninety degrees, still playing with waving his arms through the water.
For Becky, getting naked involved fewer steps. She had to take off her boots, but then it was just a matter of lifting the dress over her head. As she did so, she felt the sun hit her tender skin directly. It felt uncommonly hot on her breasts.
The dress cleared her head and she looked to see Frank Jr. staring right at her.
"You promised!" she snapped.
"Can't help it," he said. "You're so pretty," he offered lamely.
"You're just saying that," said Becky.
"Well it's true," said her brother.
She realized she was just standing there, letting him look, and danced into the pond, feeling the sharp edges of rocks cause pain in the soles of her feet.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!" she yelped, until her feet sank into oozing mud. "You didn't tell me there were rocks!"
Frank Jr.'s mouth was hanging open. He'd watched as her breasts bounced and bobbed, like they had life of their own, as she hopped from one foot to the other rapidly. He felt his willy stiffen up again, and reached to squeeze it. She ducked down into the water and came towards him.
"The water feels warm, but only on the top," she said, sounding amazed. "Where my legs are it's cool!"
"Yeah," he said, finally closing his mouth.
She lifted a hand, looking through six inches of water at it.
"It's not so muddy either," she observed.
"Yeah," he said, her bouncing breasts still filling his brain.
"I guess this wasn't such a terrible idea," she finally admitted.
"I told you so," he said, snapping out of his muddled mindset. He realized that besides squeezing his willy, his hand was moving forwards and backwards along the rigid shaft. He'd never done that before, and was surprised at how good that felt. He kept doing it, slowly.
"This place isn't so bad," opined Becky. "Do you think Mamma is going to want to stay here?"
"Maybe," said Frank. It was feeling really good now to stroke his stiff willy. He increased the speed a bit, and it felt even better.
"What's wrong with you?" asked his sister.
"Me?" He was panting now. "Nothing."
"You're all red in the face, and you sound like you've been running."
Frank Jr.'s mind connected what his hand was doing with what she was talking about. It couldn't be anything else, but it felt so good that he didn't want to stop.
"It's nothing," he gasped. Suddenly his willy hurt, but it was a sweet, stinging pain that somehow wasn't bad at all. He somehow realized that it was his hand, now moving rapidly up and down, that was bringing on this strange, luscious pain and that if he stopped what he was doing, it would go away. But he didn't want it to go away. His hand moved even faster.
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