Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
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I'm back. I haven't written anything in a while, and for that, I am sorry. But a girl's gotta make a living and jobs suck. What can I say? Anyway, here's a little something that I started writing a year ago before getting sidetracked. I hope you like it. It's dirty.
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Disclaimers: 1) This is a work of fiction and all of the persons depicted herein are purely figments of my imagination - any resemblance to any real persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and unintended. 2) This story contains strong sexual themes and explicit language. If anything in this story offends you, you know where the door is and don't let it hit you in the ass on the way out. 3) This work is copyright protected - please don't steal it or I will never submit anything else to this site ever again.
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That was the year I got sent away.
My name is Bailey and this is the story of how I discovered who I really was. It was the summer after my first year at college. I had a pregnancy scare with my boyfriend. Mom found the pregnancy test while *helpfully* cleaning my bedroom. That night, after all of the shouting died down, my parents decided that I could use a summer working on my uncle's dairy farm in West Virginia.
I had only ever seen my uncle a few times in my life at family get togethers. He and my father had grown up together on the farm, but my dad had gotten a scholarship to play baseball and left home at 17. My uncle stayed behind and took over the farm when my grandparents good to old for the hard, manual labor. I had never even visited the farm.
The farm itself is so far in the middle of nowhere that I couldn't believe that there was that much nothing in all the world, let alone one single state. I flew into Wheeling where my aunt picked me up. We drove for a while on the interstate, then turned off onto a state road for a while, and then onto a dirt road for more than an hour before turning into the farm. The nearest town was back off the state road, and even that was barely civilization. It had a car wash, a general store, a farm supply and a tasty-freeze. Another mile up the road, there was a dumpy little building with no windows and a neon sign that said, "Del's County Line Bar." It had a little gravel parking lot. We passed it at about one in the afternoon and it already had a couple of pickup trucks and an old Lincoln Continental with mismatched wheels sitting out front. My aunt gave the place a disgusted sneer as we drove by.
So, this was it. My summer was to be spent imprisoned in redneck hell, far from any sort of human contact.
I was surprised, however, at how modern the actual farm was. I guess I was expecting to find my uncle standing out in front of a white-washed clapboard house wearing bib overalls and holding a hoe or something. In fact, it was highly industrialized with modern equipment and, I later learned, the entire operation was computerized and nearly automated, such that only a couple of hired hands could manage it. And, no, this is not a story about an innocent farm girl and a studly ranch hand. The workers were older men in their 40's or 50's and I never saw much of them.
I was put to work on more traditional (unskilled) farm work... weeding the garden, taking care of the chickens, collecting eggs, feeding the pigs, mucking horse stalls... that sort of thing. I wasn't very good at it and I wasn't very happy doing it. I'm ashamed to say that I gave my aunt and uncle a rough time of it, too, acting every bit the privileged city bitch about the situation.
After less than two weeks, they'd had enough of me. They arranged for their daughter, my cousin Frances, or "Frankie" as she was called, to come stay with us and, for lack of a better term, babysit me. Frankie was about six years older than me and worked as a kindergarten teacher in Wheeling, so she had her summer off. She arrived at the start of my third week at the farm. After she arrived, I hardly saw my aunt and uncle at all.
I hadn't seen Frankie since I was a little kid and she was a gangly, freckle-faced teenager. At the time, she wanted nothing to do with me and I couldn't care less about her. We'd both grown up a lot since then. She had become a very pretty young woman with a nice, tight body that she liked to pour into very tight jeans, at least around the farm, anyway. I, meanwhile, was nobody's super model, but I had taken up tennis while I was at school and I was getting pretty fit myself. Still, I found myself feeling oddly intimidated by her and I began taking care of myself more; spending more time on my hair and putting on makeup every morning and wearing tighter fitting clothes.
It was so stupid, I know. There was no one around to impress and being competitive with her was just childish. But, at the time, it was subconscious. Like how guys will sit up straighter and puff their chest out more whenever a more muscular guy is around.
I was more than a little snarky with her for the first few days. I resented being babysat and I resented being sent away by my parents and I resented being treated like a child, and so I guess I showed it by acting like a child. I fully expected Frankie to fight me. It would have fed my petulance and in my mind, would have justified my rebellion.
But she didn't. She was sweet and kind and patient. After a couple of days, she even seemed to be taking my side and made me feel like I had an ally. By the end of that first week, we had become more like sisters. After that, she and I actually started having fun. We'd make up games while working and at night, we'd lay out in the field, under a sky studded billions of stars and just talk for hours.
One night, after we cleaned up from dinner, Frankie came to my room with a couple of towels. She told me we were going night swimming in the pond. "Night-swimming" meant skinny dipping. With nothing else to do, I quickly agreed. The pond was located near the edge of the pasture at a low point on the property and was feed by a stream that ran through the north end of the farm. It was a hot, sticky night and as we undressed, we were attacked by a bazillion mosquitoes at the water's edge. Shrieking and swatting at her arms and face, Frankie ran splashing into the water. I followed close after her and ended up slipping and falling into her arms. She caught me and held me while we both laughed.
She didn't let go right away and I didn't mind. I hadn't realized how long it had been since I'd had any sort of human contact and it felt nice to have her arms around me, just standing there naked, up to our necks in the pond. When she finally released me, I actually sighed. We played for a bit... swimming and splashing and talking. It occurred to me that she seemed to be coming into contact with me more than was necessary... nothing dirty... just... brushing past me, touching my foot, placing a hand on my back momentarily. It was nice and kind so I did my best to encourage her by swimming close to her and allowing myself to be within her reach.
Before long, touching became holding and playful tussling. At one point, our eyes locked mid-sentence and suddenly, I felt very close to her. She had her hand on my hip at the time and she just sort of leaned closer and closer as we were talking and then it happened. She kissed me. It was a total surprise and shock. I was overcome with panic... I don't even know why. Maybe it was because I was so inexperienced or confused... By brain was screaming in my head, "What am I doing? I'm naked with a girl and we were kissing... Ohmygod it's my own cousin! I'm naked with my cousin and we are kissing!" I scrambled out of the water and grabbed my towel and clothes and I ran. I didn't even know where I was going - wet, naked and carrying my clothes... not to the farm house... I ended up in the barn and I flopped down on a hay bale and began crying. I didn't know why I was crying. I had a thousand emotions flooding through me. I missed my home and my friends and my dipshit boyfriend who didn't understand how condoms work... I felt alone and sad and ashamed that I had kissed my own cousin and even more ashamed that I had liked it and I was afraid. What if I was a total slut like my mother said when she found out I'd been having sex with my boyfriend? The mental image of Frankie's naked body in the moonlight had secretly turned me on. Was I a lesbian? What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I just go home?