The Life of a Hoosier Farm Girl

This is the last and concluding Chapter of a saga of the Life of Nancy, a Hoosier Farm Girl who, at the age of 28, and has led a rather dramatic and complicated life. The first 8 chapters tell of her times in Indiana, how her husband was killed in a bar fight, her ensuing depression, the experimental meds she took that -- as a side effect -- let her suppressed slutty nature rise to the surface with a vengeance, her incest with her father, and her move to New York. On a trip to Washington for the Woman's March she met Mike, a debonair seducer who was in reality a recruiter for a rich man (Al) with a St Sebastian fetish who like to rape, torture, and murder young women. She barely escaped with her life, along with Billie Jean and Chloe, two pretty sisters from Louisiana. They have now planned revenge on Mike and Al.

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The next day Billie Jean dropped by to let me know what was happening with her. We figured Al and Mike are creatures of habit, so our plan was to get the help of the hosts of their two favorite restaurants, so that they could let us know when Mike or Al came to one of them with a new girl.

The host of the first restaurant was gay, and he was simply not interested in Billie Jean. Undaunted, she found a waiter who was not only interested in her, but also he could not get enough of her. Billie Jean can have that effect on men.

The host of the other restaurant was a hostess, but luckily, she was into women as well as men. Billie Jean somehow managed to work this into a threesome, with the waiter from the first restaurant, and the bisexual hostess of the second.

Billie Jean told me in private some of what she did to ensure the help of the waiter and the hostess. She invited them both over to her apartment for dinner. After dinner, she manipulated the discussion into her strip tease/belly dancing classes that she had been taking. It did not take long until one of them asked if she would be willing to dance for them? She declined graciously, but they both begged her to show them. Of course, that was her plan: to reluctantly agree to show them her dancing, and thereby to seduce them.

Billie Jean first went to change into the strip tease outfit. She returned hidden behind large fans of feathers, such as one sees in the old movies of the Folies Bergère. She put on some appropriate music, and she began the dance. She undulated while her body was mostly hidden behind the fans. She wore only a skimpy outfit of a bra and panties, both attached via Velcro and hence easy to remove.

The trick with the fans was to give the spectators only little glimpses of parts of her body. They would see flashes of bare skin, heightening the effect of the tease. Occasionally she would let them see her backside, so that they could see that she wearing only a bra and panties. She did this for a long five minutes; probably, she thinks, it was seven or eight minutes. Then she removed her bra while dancing behind the fans, so that the waiter (Jules) and the hostess (Joan) were unaware she had removed it.

Next Billie Jean tossed her bra to the side, always hidden behind the fans. Jules and Joan applauded. She carefully arranged (and this had taken hours of practice) to give subtle peaks at her bare breasts, occasionally giving them a glimpse of the pasties covering her nipples. Billie Jean has a great bust, and her boobs are the perfect size for a man's hand to cup. They are firm but soft. If Jules were a boobs man, then it does not get better than Billie Jean's boobs. As it turns out, Jules is very much a boobs man.

As for Joan, she is a girl who loves boobs, and she was rapt awaiting more peeks. Billie Jean did not give Jules and Joan much time to salivate over her boobs, however, as she ripped off her panties, again subtly and hidden behind the fans, and tossed them to the side. (She was wearing special panties that closed with Velcro. This made it easy to rip them off.) Again, Jules and Joan applauded enthusiastically. Billie Jean's costume had called for a G string, but she had left that off.

Now she began to flash her boobs more frequently: all of her boobs, not just peaks of parts of them. The fans covered her private parts. She could see a tent in Jules' pants. Men are so obvious; it's part of their charm. With Joan, she had to look at her eyes to see that she was turned on. The eyes of a woman never lie. She began to give peaks of her privates as well, and eventually she was dancing for them nude with only pasties covering her nipples.

She moved to Joan and, while swaying in front of her, asked her to remove the pasties with her mouth. Joan did, and as she did so, she ran her hands all over Billie Jean's naked ass. Next, she told Jules to sit in a chair, and he quickly complied. Jules got a lap dance, with a naked and luscious Billie Jean gyrating around on his lap.

Jules was in danger of shooting his load into his pants, so he pushed Billie Jean off. "It would be a crime to waste my cum like that," he said.

"You got that right," Joan said. She had been quietly undressing and was now naked, sitting in the other chair. Billie Jean moved to her and gave her a very sexy lap dance, facing her. Joan began fondling her boobs, and when they were close to her mouth she sucked on the nipples. The two women began to kiss. This basically ended the lap dance, although Billie Jean kept moving her hips around on Joan's lap.

Jules too had stripped, making all three of them naked, and he walked over to the two women. Jules stroked both of their backs. The women stopped kissing and looked at Jules. Jules put one hand on Joan's left boob, and one hand on Billie Jean's right boob. Billie Jean grabbed his balls, and Joan reached for his erect cock. Their hands were soon replaced with their mouths, as Jules collapsed to the floor.

At one point, Jules had to decide which woman would get the pleasure of his cock inside her. Joan proposed they share. Jules could start with her, and he could finish with Billie Jean. Joan lay down on the floor, spreading her legs. Jules did not engage in foreplay -- there had been plenty of that already. He just plunged right in. Joan gave a big smile, and an appreciative soft moan.

Billie Jean went over to kiss her, and they kissed with some passion while Jules pumped away. The sight of the two women mingling their tongues while he fucked Joan turned Jules on and drove him to new heights. His cock had never before been this hard, or quite this engorged with blood.

At some point, when Jules' breathing subtly changed, Billie Jean said, "Remember Jules: Save some for me!" The women switched, and now Jules entered Billie Jean. He was living one of his fantasies, fucking two women with the same erection. While he now pumped away inside Billie Jean, Joan came over and sat on her face. This was not subtle, and Billie Jean took the hint. She began to eat out Joan.

Billie Jean is neither a lesbian nor is she bisexual, so she had little prior experience at eating out a woman. But she knew what she liked when a man would eat her out, so she tried to pretend she was a man, and that Joan was her. She did to Joan what she would have wanted that man to do to her. It worked like a charm. Joan had an orgasm at the same time that Jules unloaded inside Billie Jean, filling his rubber with a large amount of ejaculate.

They all took a pause, drinking some wine, and chatting, while all naked and now intimately familiar with each other. After a half hour or so, Jules was ready for round two. Apparently, so was Joan.

Billie Jean dressed. She went to get the camera we had stolen from Adolphus, and she took a short movie of Jules enjoying the pleasures of Joan. Another time, when they met up again, they all watched the movie together.

Billie Jean then had them watch the movies Adolphus had taken of me: naked, bound and suspended spread eagle in the air. They saw me slowly bleeding out. I was slowly dying, suspended by my wrists above a filthy mattress. The mattress was covered in my piss and my blood. As Adolphus walked around me, always filming, they could also see Alex painting my picture.

After the movie, Billie Jean showed them a picture of the painting Alex had made. It pictured me naked, hanging, and bleeding out, in front of a pastoral background. I was peeing copiously in the picture too. My face was the face of terror, as I hung there, certain I would die.

"That's the plan for the next innocent woman Mike and/or Adolphus ("Al") brings to one of your restaurants. We plan to save her, and to stop him, once and for all. We need your help," Billie Jean said. Billie Jean then removed her top, which she had kept on during the movie. She removed her bra too, becoming naked above the waist. She gently raised her left boob, revealing the scar underneath it that Adolphus had made when he cut her at the beginning of her torture.

"Only three women have ever escaped alive from these monsters. They have killed twelve women that we know of, and probably there are others, too," Billie Jean said. She showed them pictures of the dead women's St. Sebastian tortures. After all that, it was not hard to recruit their help. She promised them sex with Chloe and me as well as herself if they could help. Jules was intimidated to be one man with four pretty women. "Bring a friend or two. Or three," was Billie Jean's reply. Both Jules and Joan smiled. It was a deal.

There was one more piece to the puzzle. We needed help from my brother. I have not mentioned him yet, because we had a huge falling out when I married Bill. My brother Kyle is a year younger than I am, but he was protective of me, and he did not like my husband Bill. I thought he was just jealous.

When it turned out that Bill drank and beat me, I had to admit on some level my brother was right. But Bill loved me with all his soul until he was shot to death in a bar. And I loved him with all of my heart and all of my soul.

When I sunk into my deep depression following his death, Kyle was far away from southern Indiana. He was in upstate New York, attending West Point. He became an Army Ranger and served in Iraq, Afghanistan and other places he could never mention, he said. I guessed that's because it was secret that the US had troops in those areas. I rarely saw him, but we still wrote and we were still close.

There's a second reason I never made much of an effort to keep up with my brother. There was this period of time, long ago. Kyle had just turned 18, I was 19, and we had a birthday bash, with all of our friends. We all got very drunk. When everyone had left, only Kyle and I remained at home. My mother had died of cancer when I was sixteen, and my father was off with his girlfriend of the moment on a weekend trip somewhere.

I was exhausted and went upstairs to shower and change into my bed clothes. I was already married to Bill, but he was on a drunk, and since he liked to beat me when he would come home from one of his drunks, I was hiding out at my parents' home. When I left the shower, I noticed the door to the bathroom was open. I was sure I had closed it, because I like to sing in the shower, and I would be embarrassed if Kyle had heard me singing.

Also, we have a movable shower head, and I used it kind of like a hydraulic vibrator, aiming it at my pussy. Nobody needs to see me doing that! So, I figured my sexually curious 18-year-old brother was spying on me in the shower. Wrapped in a towel I burst into his room in full outrage mode. I was angry. I was ready for a showdown.

I caught him with his pants off, masturbating furiously.

I froze. I knew he was thinking of me as he beat off. He was horrified and quickly covered up. He knew why I had burst in on him in full anger mode: It was because he had spied on me, so he couldn't yell at me in high dudgeon, which is what he would normally do if someone caught him at something naughty.

I looked at him differently. He actually had a dynamite body. It was muscular, but not too much; just the right amount. He had the perfect amount of chest hair. I had always loved his eyes, they were the color of root beer. He had a dynamite six pack.

And, I have to confess, I noticed his cock, too. It was gorgeous. Before I recount the rest, remember, we were both drunk. I for one was seriously drunk. I had hoped the shower might have sobered me up, but at that point the only thing that could have sobered me up was time.

Incest was not incomprehensible to me. I had already made love with my father, out in the corn fields. I had felt as if the spirit of my dead mother (she died of cancer when I was a young teenager) had entered me, and I was my mother, fucking my father from beyond the grave. It was a spiritual experience. But it was also incest of the first degree!

Sober I probably would not have said this. But I was not sober. I said, "Kyle, you saw me in the shower, and now you're beating your meat. Do I turn you on? Or is it just the sight of any naked woman turns you on, even your sister?"

Kyle would not have said what he said, either, had he not been hopelessly drunk. "Nancy, I've had the hots for you for so long now, it hurts. Don't you know that? It's so unfair you're my sister!"

Then I said something that changed our lives. I said, "I won't tell if you won't tell." Kyle looked at me. I dropped the towel and stood in the doorway stark naked, revealing all my charms to him. I slowly turned around, showing him my backside, too. As I completed my revolution, he had his iPhone out and was snapping pictures of me in my birthday suit.

"Bad boy!" I said. "Don't you go around showing your friends those pictures, Kyle."

"I would never do that, Nancy. You're a babe, Sis. I love you as a sister, and I fantasize about you being my lover." I walked over to him, very slowly, my boobs jiggling just a little as I walked.

I said, "Really? You really want me, your sister, as a lover?" Kyle nodded. He almost had his tongue hanging out. "You know it's perverted. It's taboo," I continued. "It's not only incest, it would be adultery, too." Kyle nodded again. "The idea though is so sexy, isn't it? Forbidden sex has to be the best kind, don't you think?"

Kyle nodded eagerly. By this time, I was standing right in front of him as he sat on the edge of the bed. My boobs were in his face. Finally, I said, "Want to do something about it?"

I had to say that. Kyle could not believe I was coming on to him, so he had been frozen with fear into inaction. My last question woke him up, so to speak, and he stood up and kissed me. His pants and briefs were off, but he was still dressed above the waist. As far as I was concerned, it made it even kinkier. I returned his kiss, and his hands roamed all over my backside, ending up, predictably, on my naked ass.

A moment of sanity flitted through my alcohol addled brain: Was I really going to commit incest with my brother? I did not think it, but I heard the answer in my head: "Hell yes, you are." I was much more sexually experienced than my brother. One year at that age can make a big difference. I had already had sex with two men, my father, and of course lots of times with my husband. In contrast, I found out later that I was only the second woman Kyle had ever laid.

I had a good idea who the first one was. There was a girl in his high school class who was sweet on him, and the word was that she was pretty relaxed about giving away sexual favors. Kyle was probably the fourth or fifth high school boy she had bedded during her senior year.

The point is, there was no foreplay, and Kyle simply threw me down on the bed, spread my legs, climbed on top of me and plunged right in. I was already wet, thank goodness, from the whole idea of incestuous sex.

He pumped in and out rapidly, and I had to tell him while he was ravishing me, either to use a condom or pull out before he shot his load. He pulled out and put on a condom, allowing me to catch my breath, and then he resumed frantically fucking me.

In the minute or so when he was outside of me I reflected on what I was doing. Not only was I cheating on my wife-beating husband, but I was cheating with my own brother. What was I thinking? Why was I doing this? Committing incest is not to be taken lightly!

But then Kyle had his condom on, and he was on top of me, and I was eagerly anticipating the re-entry of his wonderful cock. Perhaps because he is my brother, and I love him dearly (although before this particular time I never would have thought of my love for him as a sexual love!), when his cock was inside me I felt alive like I had never felt before.

He entered me and the world stopped turning. My whole life stopped still in place, and nothing at all was happening besides my making love with Kyle. I looked into his gorgeous eyes. They were the color of root beer. They looked back at me with tenderness and love.

I loved the feel of his cock inside me. I was kissing him and clawing at his back as we fucked. My pelvis rose to meet his every thrust. I wrapped my short legs around him, as much as I could. I kissed his chest whenever it was near my mouth. And, I moaned: Boy, did I moan. I remember saying something like, "Oh my God Kyle, this is wonderful. Fuck me. Yes, just like that. Oh, my. Fuck your big sister. I need you, Kyle," and then I lost it and devolved into a moaning, writhing, mess.

Kyle shot his load and lay on top of me. I could feel his cock shrinking and I worried his jism would escape the rubber. I asked him to pull out and to hold onto the rubber as he did so, so nothing spilled. I was not worried about pregnancy; I was on birth control. I was worried about my wife-beating husband Bill finding the sperm of another man inside me. That would have been less than ideal. Much less.

Kyle realized I had not cum, so when he was hard again, we had a replay of the fuck. The second time was just as good. I still had not cum, and I thought Kyle would eat me, or finger me, or do something, anything, to make me cum, because he really wanted to make his sister cum. I was happy and done, but Kyle seemed to need to see me have an orgasm due to him.

We did it a third time, and I thought of faking an orgasm to make Kyle happy. He could then feel macho, and we would not have to do it a fourth time! Not that I would have minded, I loved the way he fucked me, and I loved the idea of us fucking. But I did not have to fake it. I actually did cum during the third fuck, and it was a doozy of an orgasm.

This was not simply lust. It was love; the love a sister and brother have for each other; it was just expressed sexually. It made me feel special. I felt yummy; I felt happy. I don't know what Kyle felt, but I'm pretty sure he had a complex mix of emotions just then.

After that last orgasm, we fell asleep together. I had told Bill I was visiting a girlfriend and might spend the night, so I was fine sleeping overnight with Kyle. In the morning, we were both still drunk, but much less. Kyle woke up first, and he woke me up by slipping his hard, throbbing cock into my pussy for a good morning fuck. He was insatiable. When he was done, and we were both wide awake, I asked him for how long he had wanted to have sex with me.

"Since forever," Kyle said. "I'll show you my pictures," and then he showed me a dozen pictures of me in various stages of undress he had taken when I had been careless about closing my doors, or even the shades on my windows. Knowing he had been spying on me and capturing me in these various states of undress got me highly aroused. This time it was I who fucked him. He was not yet hard, so I took his cock into my mouth and sucked it hard again.

I was relatively inexperienced at fellatio back then, but Kyle was even more innocent, and he got hard in no time even if my ministrations were rather clumsy and inexpert. Then I mounted him and slipped his cock inside me and fucked him on top, with my boobs grazing his chest. I think it was the first time for Kyle with a girl on top, and he was thrilled.