A Clearing

Becky squeezed my hand and her breathing quickened. Her eyes were wide and her mouth slack in the dim moonlight as we watched our cousins through the thin, leafy branches. Though the night was late, and the trees around us offered concealment from any passersby, she still looked around every now and then, as if afraid someone would interrupt our spying.

But no one was around at this hour. My Aunt Maggie had kissed us both goodnight, in our separate bedrooms, several hours earlier, and both she and Uncle James were surely asleep. My sister Clare and cousin Ben, Becky's older brother, were surely not, however. Through the leaves of the wild grape that surrounded the moonlight-dappled clearing, we could see Clare laying on the grass and moss, her nightgown rucked up around her breasts, her feet towards us, her face out of sight in the shadows. Crouched between her thighs was Ben, his bare bottom raised towards us, his shoulders disappearing in the dimness, his head busy at Clare's crotch. His buttocks were flexing rhythmically, and I could see his hairy crack in the diffused moonglow. What we were doing was bad, but what they were doing was worse. Yet we couldn't turn away. Becky had passed me a note earlier that day explaining that Clare and Ben had been disappearing each night, awakening her with their footsteps as they passed her bedroom, and she was determined to see what they were doing. There was a certain enticement, an allure of forbidden fruit, a promise of sights yet concealed that kept my cousin and me at the window.

"It's just like Mama and Pa," Becky whispered in the darkness. She was entranced by what she was seeing in the clearing, and her hand was warm and sweaty in mine. Though she was a year younger than I was, I knew she had done this sort of thing before. Will down the road had told me last June that he had seen his older brother Cory take Becky by the hand and lead her not protesting into the barn one summer afternoon. Will had followed them and had quietly climbed the ladder to the rafters and watched as Becky pleasured Cory. "First she took his drawers down and licked his cock," Will told me. "Then he threw her to the hay, lifted up her dresses, and commenced to working between her legs until they both cried out. After that, he straddled her chest and had her lick him clean until he gave it to her in her mouth. Then she jumped up and said she had to do chores and she ran out of the barn." Will's story had entranced me as I thought of my younger cousin being mounted by the neighboring farmboy, of taking his tool and seed in her mouth. I had asked Will questions of sights and sounds, but he didn't want to answer and so I had left the subject alone.

"Last week," Becky whispered, continuing her story. In the clearing, Clare moaned softly as Ben's tongue worked its magic on her. "Last week, after they thought me asleep, I went down the hall to the closet to pee and as I passed by their door I heard Mama crying out softly, as if she didn't want anyone to hear."

Through the branches we could see Clare's hands furiously running through Ben's thick, black hair, her stockinged feet beating up and down on his broad back. His right hand was lost in the darkness between Clare's legs, but we could see his left hand on his own hidden cock, presumably stroking himself. My own cock was rock hard and throbbing beneath my trousers, but I was afraid of letting Becky know I was erect. She squeezed my hand again as she continued.

"Their door was open a crack and I knew I was being naughty, but I peaked in and in the glow of the fire I saw Mama naked on her hands and knees on the bed, and Dad was behind her. He was naked, too. He was kneeling and I saw him bend over and lick her bum and stroke his cock. It was really big." She paused.

"What did he do?" I whispered back.

"He was poking his finger in and out of Mama's bumhole, and every time he put it all the way in she would softly cry, like I've heard her do when Miss Combs gives her a massage." She looked around her, as if expecting her father to come through the trees, then turned to me and her eyes were as wide and dark and excited as mine were. "Oh, Bran," she breathed, "I knew I shouldn't have looked, but it was the same feeling I'm getting now watching Ben and Clare. I was tingling inside and couldn't stop. I didn't even have to pee anymore."

"Were you afraid?" I asked.

"Yes, but I watched even so. Mama was lying on a pillow, facing away from me, and as Pa lifted his head up from her bum, she turned her face towards the door. Here eyes were closed and Pa took his cock in his hand and pointed it at her bottom. Her privates were sticking out behind her, but instead he aimed it at her bumhole. I didn't think it would go in, but he slid in quick until he was all the way up her bottom! Mama groaned, and that's when I snuck away, hoping they wouldn't hear me." She paused, then added, "I was really tingling!"

My eyes feasting on my older sister and my cousin pleasuring each other, and my ears enchanted by Becky's tale, and her hand squeezing my own, I was feeling as randy as ever. My free hand stole to my crotch and I rubbed myself beneath my trousers, enjoying the pleasure. Suddenly Becky clamped down on my arm. "Look!" she gasped. Ben had risen to his knees and we could see his tool -- long and thick and glistening with his own lubricant in the moonlight. "It's enormous," Becky sighed, "and he's going to put it to her." It was enormous, too. My own tool is fairly big; I measured it at seven inches the other day, but Ben's put me to shame. I guessed he was nine or ten inches long and when he held it in his hand his swollen knob throbbed in the moonlight and we could just see a drop of pre-cum ooze from the tip.

Clare smiled at her cousin, raised herself from the grass and planted a loving kiss on his throbbing member before swabbing its length up and down with her tongue. I moaned, imagining a tongue doing the same to my own neglected cock, and watched Clare take Ben full in her mouth, her eyes lidded, he lips stretched wide, her hand guiding inch after inch down her throat. Holding her head in both hands, Ben guided her back and forth on his pole, gradually increasing the force and speed until he was slamming in and out of her mouth. Clare's cries were muffled by cock and finally she pulled away, licked his juice around her lips, and lay back on the grass again, spreading her legs wide in invitation. I glanced at Becky and saw her mouth open and her eyed reflecting the lust I felt, as if she was thinking herself in Clare's position.

Though the grape leaves and the dim light obscured much of our view, our imaginations filled in the rest as Ben eased himself between Clare's thighs and his ass began flexing and relaxing with his thrusts into her cunt. Clare wrapped her legs around him and we could hear their faint cries in the warm night. I imagined I could hear the juicy sound of their contact, the flushed pinkness of her sex and his tool meeting in the damp darkness, consummating a forbidden passion. A wild impulse overcame me and I guided Becky's hand to my crotch and rested it there. I expected her to pull away, but she stayed, and I thrust against her, not able to control my lust.

My thrusts matched Ben's as my young cousin and I watched our siblings fuck each other in a clearing we ourselves had rested in many times as children. Becky's hand was moving most deliciously against my cock through my pants, and even though this was my own cousin, I didn't care. Had I been more bold, I would have lifted up her nightdress and sought out her damp nest, just as Ben had done to Clare. But a voice within told me she might frighten at so bold a step and the moment would be lost. So I concentrated on her hand stroking me ever faster through my wool trousers, and her wide eyes in the moonlight, her breathing getting heavier and quicker.

I was close to coming and through the branches we could hear Clare cry out, "Oh, Ben! Give it to me! I want it all!" Her nails raked up and down his back as Ben grunted, and his thrusts seemed to increase in pace and intensity, his muscled ass rising high in the air before plunging smoothly down to bury his long cock in my sister's wet and eager pussy. My own thrusts increased as well, my hand clamped on Becky's, which was clamped firmly on my penned-up penis. In the clearing Ben withdrew from Clare's box, then rammed himself back into her. "Yes! Yes, dear cousin! I'm coming! I'm Coming!" she screamed and Ben gave a mighty shout and his body shuddered as he squirted his creamy load into my sister's greedy flesh, his ass twitching and jerking with the intensity of his spurtings.

I was dimly aware of Becky's own soft moans and of her hand moving furiously beneath her nightdress, but the delightful friction of her hand on my cock was too much. "I'm going to sperm, Becky, I'm going to come!" I breathed. I didn't think the two lovers could hear us over their own cries, but I didn't care if they did. What we were doing was no worse than their own act.

"Come on, Bran. I want to feel it," Becky whispered into my ear, and as her tongue twirled around my ear and neck, I thrust forward and let my pleasure manifest in great wet spurts of thick juice. "Yes, Bran, yes!" Becky gasped, "let it all go!" I shuddered, just as Ben shuddered in the clearing as he withdrew his weeping rod from Clare's come-spattered bush. I could see several pearls of fresh sperm roll down her glistening thigh and let my last jet go, soaking my trousers and shooting through to coat Becky's hand. Ben had collapsed on Clare, both of them breathing heavily, Clare holding Ben tightly to her. Becky grabbed my arm and silently led me away from the clearing, our feet making little noise on the carpet of pine needles. I was swimming in my pleasure, my cock twitching out its last muted offerings to be absorbed by my wool pants.

Becky led me through the trees until we reached the weedy border of the hayfield and forest, where she sat us down. She turned my face towards her and then deliberately raised her hand, the one that had brought me so much pleasure, and licked her fingers one by one. "You taste wonderful, Bran," she whispered. My heart pounded. Here was my younger cousin licking my sperm off her fingers, and she seemed to have enjoyed it as much as I had. Now she raised her other hand: "Smell me," she commanded, and I breathed deeply of her musky scent and in an instant found her fingers in my mouth, found myself tasting my cousin's secretions, her essence, and wanting more. She had been frigging herself beneath her nightdress as she and I had stroked my tool. I reached for her, but she jerked her fingers out of my mouth and coquettishly moved away, motioning me to be quiet. "Not now, Bran," she whispered enigmatically.

Then she rose and led me along the field border until we had made our way back to the rambling, weathered farmhouse. Stopping beneath the big, hoary elm in the front yard, she gave my hand one last lingering squeeze. "I've got to go to bed now, Bran," she said, "before my mother looks in and sees my bed empty."

I didn't say anything, just stood there looking at her and thinking about what we had seen and done.

"Wait five minutes, then come in. That way you'll be able to see if anyone is awakened by me." Then she was gone, stealing up onto the big green porch, her bare feet making no noise as she let herself in through the screen door and closed it silently behind her, leaving it ajar for me. I stood in the moonshade of the elm, shoulders slumped, penis limp and sticky with drying sperm. My mind was still reeling from watching Clare and Ben, and from coming into Becky's hand and smelling and tasting her own offerings, but the subtle and pervasive influence of exhaustion started to overcome me.

After counting to three hundred, I crept up onto my aunt and uncle's porch and through the door and up the smooth, wooden stairs to my room where I threw myself on my bed and fell asleep almost instantly, to be awakened only by the early morning sun spilling in through the windows.