On my journey home I wondered what the hell had just happened but my weenis knew as it stood tall and proud in the confines of my clothes.
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By the time I got home I'd wound myself up into a bit of a state and started wanting the alarm clock to start its silly rattling sound at me as this dream felt far too realistic and I needed it to end. To be honest I was scared and starting to feel nauseous that I'd defiled my aunty.
My sister was at home when I got there and I told her about the chicks and ducklings and as expected she went all gooey over them and mentioned Plinky in her nappy sitting amongst them with two in her hair. Almost straight away she went home leaving me alone with Dad, I felt so awkward sitting there and not talking about what happened with his sister but after a short while the conversation turned to football and the difficulty faded.
No more was said anywhere about my dangerous liaison with my Aunty and it was all but forgotten as if it was a bad dream, until the next time I dropped in at the farm.
I got to the end of the track and seeing a trailer parked beside the wood shed I drove on further to park near the small barn and as I was right beside the door I popped in to see the chicks,
"Hello Granny."
"Hello Terry." The arms were as always held open in invitation, I stepped forward to accept.
"My oh my, are you sure you're not still growing?"
"Ohhh yes, I'm sure, been six one for four years now. Will you look at those little beggars?"
"They sure grow quickly." She checked the time on the battered old pocket watch which lived in a pocket on the front of her breast. "Tea?"
"Don't let me take you away from anything."
She checked the time again before dropping the watch back into the pocket. "Fancy preparing the chicken feed while I round the ducks in?"
"Yeah, of course. Three loaves and a mug of each still?"
"That Terry, that will never change." Granny released the grip on me and I did the same. Her hug always felt so good, especially her big tits against my stomach. Now the hug lasted so long, much longer than somehow seemed proper it felt so good that these days I always got hard and I think she knows that.
We left the small barn together and headed in different directions, I headed for the 'pen shed' a long white painted brick building, well at least it was painted white about a thousand years ago, with a six feet wide passageway inside along the front and brick walls four feet high forming a series of eight pens along the back wall, which over the years have housed just about any farm animal you can think of. Right in the middle was an area where feed was stored and prepared; my task was to cut three loaves of bread into cubes on an old wooden draining board laying across a wooden barrel, both of which have not moved in my lifetime.
As always Granddad had kept the massive knife honed to perfection, it was so sharp I reckon I could have a half decent shave with it. The stale loaves, which my uncle James brings in with him from the baker in the village, were soon converted into inch cubes in a five gallon bucket. A two pint mug of water slopped in and stirred with the old chair leg, which had been there as long as the barrel, until if was damp bread crumbs with lumps of crust and a pint mug of protein feed from the blue and white paper sack, the design of which also hadn't changed in my lifetime, stirred in until well mixed.
"Still got it Terry."
"Hello Granddad."
"It's yerars since yon sore ye dee thar." (It's years since I saw you do that).
"Nothing changes though, except the knife is getting a bit narrower."
"Oyl take ee." (I'll take it).
I removed the chair leg and replaced it on the old dresser beside the knife where it's always lived, when I turned back to face Granddad the bucket was heading through the door with him.
'Wow half a dozen words and he was gone' I half whispered to myself.
Curiosity kicked in and I walked along the line of four pens to see what evidence of life there had been since I was last in there. the first pen was as expected loaded with animal feed laying on rodent proof tables, these were actually wooden slatted and very probably a pallet with legs attached and each leg passed through an inverted biscuit tin, a big tin like they used to have for Woolworth's pick and mix, to stop the mice and rats climbing up the legs.
The second pen was full of crap, rusty old chains, buckets, a rotovator hand tools etc the list could be endless but I suspect not a single bit of it has been touched for ten years. The third pen took me by surprise, it was spotless and had obviously been swept and hosed out fairly recently with some clean looking straw on the floor, walking further I saw something white huddled in the corner come into view. "Hello Jasper." The white bundle uncurled and the unmistakeable brown patch on the Jack Russell's head came into view. She got up and bounced over towards me, I opened the gate to make a fuss and she very uncharacteristically growled. I took that to be she had a litter in there and closed the gate.
"There you are."
"Hello Granny. Just seen Jasper here, I take it she has a litter as she growled when I opened the gate."
Granny walked to me and stood beside me. "There's four in there somewhere, not sure of the sire so we have no idea what they are or where."
"She was in that corner."
Granny opened the gate and walked in; Jasper followed as she walked to the corner, bent down picked up a lump of black and a lump of brown and came back to me. Jasper watched her hands intently as the puppies were placed in mine. Jaspers lips curled for a growl but made no sound.
"Goodness, aren't they small."
"Sunday mornin' so getting on for sixty hours. Best put them back." Granny took them from me and placed them back in the bedding; jasper soon licked them, rearranged them and settled as the gate was closed. "Best start making the chicken feed."
"I've m done it."
"Oh good." We walked back to the feed area, "Oh where?"
"Granddads already taken it."
"In that case we'd best get the tea on."
The kettle was sitting on the Aga range, after washing my hands I lifted the plate and stood the kettle directly over the heat to boil then Annabella came into the scullery and clamped her body against my back.
"Plinky."
"Terry. I've been so waiting for you to come back." She released her grip just enough for me to turn round and she promptly lifted up to wrap her legs round my hips and started snogging.
"Mmnnm hmhnnm, Plinky I tried to say into her mouth." She moved her head away. "Wow slow down Plinky."
"Why?" a peck on the lips, "Should," another peck, "I?"
