The Farmer's Daughter

Welcome to Part One of the three-part erotic Incest/Taboo story "The Farmer's Daughter".

This was an experiment of mine a few years back to see if I would enjoy writing incest/taboo stories. I've tweaked it a little here as an updated edit. Like an introduction you are now reading.

I must admit that Incest/Taboo is not exactly my thing; except one of my favourite stories here on Literotica is the "All I Need" five-part series, written by Anomic. It's not the incest that captures me, it's the raw love and emotions. That's what I like to read, regardless of the circumstances.

Love,

Lana Ocean

P.S. This is the updated edited version. I did a little clean-up.

The Farmer's Daughter, Part One

First, let me tell you a little about myself: I'm a farmer's daughter. I'm five and a half feet tall. Tanned with blond hair, blue eyes, and freckles all over my cheekbones and nose. I'm very fit. Toned body. I have large breasts and a thin waist and a pert, heart-shaped bum. I'm gorgeous. I know that--it's hard not to know that when I watch all the men gawk at me and the women throw dagger looks.

A few months after I turned eighteen, my math teacher at school had asked me to stay back after school. He had been one of the teachers who stared at me pretty much nonstop in class. I could see his infatuation. He practically drooled on me. He was middle-aged, with a protruding potbelly, he had lost most of his hair and combed what was left over top, and his face always had a waxy, sickly look to it.

I really didn't find him attractive in the least, but I went after school to his classroom. Outside, I could hear the school buses roaring to life and transporting all the other students home to the farms outside our small town. There would be one more bus to transport the after-school programme students' home. It left in an hour.

I knocked on the teacher's door and heard a muffled word from inside and opened the door and peered in. My math classroom used to be the science lab, and the front of the classroom was taken up with a large workbench with a sink and little chrome valves for butane gas and other science stuff. The math teacher, Mr Robins, was sitting behind the workbench in the centre. It looked like he was marking tests.

He looked up when I stuck my head through the door. "Ah, miss Kenny. Please come in and have a seat, I'll be with you in a moment."

I said nothing and went and sat at the desk across from him. I placed my backpack on the floor and turned and watched the teacher. He was intent on marking a paper, but I could see his eyes glance up at me repeatedly. His left hand was hidden, but I could see his shoulder moving. I was pretty sure he was touching himself. I had noticed teachers and boys at school constantly adjusting themselves around me. My mom had warned me about it and told me not to take notice and not let them know I knew. She explained the male ego and just how fragile it was. I was learning a whole new world, and it fascinated me.

I'm a farmer's daughter, as I've said. My dad's farm held a variety of purposes. He had elected not to focus on one thing like many of the other farmers. He had wheat, corn, and soy fields. He had a massive vegetable garden for the weekend farmer's market. And he had livestock. Horses mostly for the riding schools that dotted the commonwealth of Virginia and beyond. He had a few sheep, pigs, and chickens.

For now, I was sitting in the math class watching the teacher's left shoulder jiggle up and down. His face looked a little flushed. I smiled to myself. This was the most overt any man had ever been around me. I admit it excited me. I was wearing a tight white t-shirt and gym shorts. I liked the gym shorts because I could slip a hand down the front with ease. As a rule, I sat at the back of classroom. Often, I would touch myself, hidden behind the desk. When I turned eighteen my hormones had gone into overdrive. My body swelled in places I never thought it would. My acne cleared up and my skin glowed. I felt strength and energy flow through me. I woke up in a startling way. Changing my bra size every two months became expensive, and my dad complained the loudest. But with all the changes came a strong sexual desire. I was horny all the time now. I told my mom, and she had hugged me when I cried in frustration. She had given me a dildo, and I use it almost every night. But it was never enough.

My hand crept to the waistband of my shorts, but I stopped there. I could see the teacher stealing longer looks at me. I was worried he would notice what I was doing. A thrill ran through me at the thought.

Perhaps I should?

I thought.

Just to see what happens...

I felt my vagina flood with wetness and the blood in my body rush to the area. My breasts grew a little tight across my nipples and I glanced down to see they were making sharp little bumps in the front of my tee. Normally I would squeeze them at this point and send jolts down to my vagina, but right now the teacher was openly staring at me. I think I heard a small noise escape his mouth, and he looked down, his face flushed, and focused on the paper in front of him.

As soon as he looked down, I slipped my hand down the inside of the front of my shorts. The material stretched to allow my hand to slide under the elastic of my panties and I felt my soft fur. I pushed lower and my finger slipped across the nub of my clitoris. I bit my lower lip and pushed down farther. My middle finger slipped between my lips, and I felt just how wet I was. I gave myself a few delicious strokes along my slit and pulled my hand free. I lifted my fingers to look at them and saw my juices glistening on the tips. My scent reached my nose, and I breathed in deep. Beyond my hand I could see the teacher staring at me wide-eyed.

I couldn't help myself. I smiled at him and licked my middle finger. Mr Robins' face went through a series of strange expressions and then his mouth opened, and a weird sound came out of him. His face was bright red, and I thought maybe he was holding his breath. Suddenly he gasped and sucked in air over and over. He grunted a couple of times and then looked down at his lap in horror.

I was pretty sure he had just ejaculated in front of me and was looking down at the mess he had made. A part of me wanted to come around the lab bench and see for myself. I wanted to see his penis and spunk. I had only ever seen my dad's and was curious to see another man's. I should point out I had seen my dad's whilst spying from my room. But more on that later.

After a time, Mr Robins' breathing slowed, and he looked up at me with an expression I could only describe as deep shame.

"Mr Robins? Are you alright?" I asked.

"Y-yes, fine. I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. You're all flushed, and you were breathing funny."

"Ah, yes, don't worry about it."

I stood up from my desk and a look of alarm crossed his face.

"What are you doing?" he asked in fright.

"I'm gonna come round and check on you. Make sure you're okay." I started to move to the end of the lab bench.

"No!" he practically yelled. He calmed himself. "No, stay there. Please. I'm okay."

I put on a look of disbelief and chewed my lower lip. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Please have a seat."

I nodded my head and sat back down and looked up with as innocent a look as I could make. "Mr Robins, what did you want to see me for?"

"Oh, ah, I... well. A simple matter. Embarrassing really."

I looked up at him, really not sure where this was going.

"It's a matter of your dress, I'm afraid to say."

I looked down at myself. My nipples were still hard. In truth, I was feeling more horny than normal. I had just witnessed a full-grown man masturbate in front of me. Well, sort of, I hadn't seen anything, but my imagination had filled in what I hadn't seen. I knew what he meant right away. He wasn't the first teacher to say something to me. My female biology teacher had spoken to me about my choice of clothes last week. She was a little mousey thing with a face that looked squeezed. She always wore a plain brown or grey dress and had her hair pinned painfully back on her head. Even in summer she wore a cardigan. But I knew she used the cardigan to cover the swell of her breasts. They were massive and wider than her thin chest. Most of the seniors in the school probably masturbated thinking of those breasts. I had once or twice. Not that I was into women, but I could appreciate our form. If I was into women, she would have to look like my mom. My mom was stunning, and I now looked a lot like her, in truth.

Anyway, the biology teacher had held me back after class and told me my tees were inappropriate. When I asked why--already knowing why--she had sniffed and said my breasts were too big for the amount of material. She added I should be covering them up in modesty. I noticed she couldn't take her eyes off of them. Playing the innocent, I asked her why. She had turned a deep red and stammered at me, not saying much. I had been tempted to expose them to her and ask her what I should do about them, but instead I agreed to consider what she had said. She had practically thrown me out of the room. I had loitered outside her door and pressed an ear to it. In moments, I could hear her moaning softly and I walked away smiling.

"My dress?" I asked Mr Robins.

"Yes, you are a grown woman, my dear. You need to dress more conscious of how you appear."

I lifted an eyebrow at him.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he spoke again. "The boys in the school, they have noticed you. I'm afraid they are probably having a hard time keeping focused in school."

"A hard time?"

"Yes. You see, their hormones," he paused a moment and looked like he was thinking. "You looking like that will trigger them to maybe do things they shouldn't."

"And that is my problem, how?" I asked quietly. I could feel anger start to simmer within me.

"Well, the way you dress. Tight tee-shirt and skimpy shorts..."

"What about them? Most of the kids in school wear the exact same thing as me."

"Yes, yes, they do, but..." he suddenly looked like he wanted to be elsewhere. "None of them are as mature as you..."

"Mature? You mean, they don't have big breasts like mine? Or as tight an ass as mine?"

Mr Robins blinked at me a few times.

"You're saying that my large, ponderous breasts, with large nipples," I squeezed my nipples for emphasis. "Are distracting the guys in school?"

Mr Robins nodded and swallowed.

"What about the teachers, Mr Robins?"

He looked shocked. "The teachers?"

"Yes. The teachers. Do you think I am distracting them? Do you think they are stroking their cocks behind a lab bench and then coming all over the floor?"

Mr Robins turned even brighter red. Splotches of white rose in his cheeks. He looked furious. "Young lady! That talk is not allowed in school!"

Quick as a flash, I bolted around the lab bench and found Mr Robins semi-hard cock lying outside his pants and dripping cum on the floor. On the back of the bench and on the floor in front of him was a thick splattering of fresh cum. My first thought was his penis was way smaller than it should be. Dad's penis was the only one I had seen so far, and he was easily twice the size of this man's penis.

My mouth opened on its own. "What a small penis!" I blurted and threw my hand over my mouth in horror as I said the words. Mom had warned me about male egos, and now I was about to find out the truth.

Mr Robins tried frantically to put his penis back in his pants at the same time he felt it necessary to yell at me. "Young lady, you go too far! You are an aberration! A walking sin! I'll have you expelled for this!"

I stared at his penis as he grabbed his cum covered hands and started to push it back in his pants. "Your penis is so small! You poor man!"

He roared now. "Get out! Get out! Out of my sight!"

At that moment the principal walked in. Mr Lockhart had been the principal when my mom went here. He was well into his seventies and a truly nice man. He threw the door open and strode in. Mr Robins turned in fright, still trying to stuff his semi-hard penis into the open zipper of his dress pants; the light-grey material stained dark with cum. Mr Lockhart looked at his penis, at the stains, and then at the back of the lab bench and floor and then at me. The look he gave me was one of pity. He sighed heavily while Mr Robins stammered excuses.

"Miss," said the principal, softly. "Please head to my office and wait there. I'll drive you home."

I nodded and went to my desk and grabbed my backpack and fled the room.

* * *

Mr Robins no longer worked at the school. The principal had apologised profusely to me. He had asked me if I wanted to press charges, but I said no. I asked him to keep my parents out of it, but he refused. He drove me home and then spent time talking privately with mom and dad. He left quietly and then mom sat me down and explained some more things to me.

She agreed with me that Mr Robins was an asshole. But she said she wanted me to start wearing more sensible clothes. I didn't think it was fair and told her it wasn't my problem that boys couldn't handle seeing me. Mom agreed but said sometimes you need to find a middle ground. I told her about the biology teacher and mom had looked strangely pensive and asked me a little more about her.

Dad had come in then and hugged me. I crawled up into his lap and cried into his shoulder. He always made me feel so safe. He smelled of the farm, and sweat, and everything I think a man should smell like. His muscles moved under his shirt with such ease, and they were so strong and firm. Power radiated from him, and I always felt protected. I loved to run my hands over his muscles. When I was younger, he would flex them, and I would squeal. He didn't do that anymore, and I missed it.

After I stopped crying about just how unfair the world was, I leaned back and looked at my dad. He was a beautiful man. Deep blue eyes, blond hair thick and rough cut by mom, beautiful teeth, and a dazzling smile. I wanted to kiss him right then. It was so overpowering I could barely stop myself. I heard a sharp little intake from mom and that brought me back to earth.

"Dad?" I asked.

"Yes, hon?"

"Why is your penis so much bigger than Mr Robins?"

"Alice!" exclaimed my mother and father at the same time. Dad looked shocked, mom looked like she didn't know whether to laugh or be mad.

Dad looked at my mother and frowned. "Don't encourage her!"

Mom finally laughed out loud. "You going to answer her?"

Dad looked me in the eye and then shook his head. "How do I answer that? It just is." Dad picked me up by the waist and lifted me with absolutely no effort to place me on my feet. His strength took mine away. I shuddered, standing there. I couldn't help it. Mom looked at me strangely. Dad looked at mom. "Talk to her, please?" And he left my bedroom and closed the door behind him.

Mom patted my duvet beside her, and I sat down. We sat in silence for a time until mom cleared her throat a little. "How do you know how big your father's penis is?"

I suddenly realised what my words meant. I had just revealed knowledge I shouldn't have. How would I explain this to my mother? She would be so angry with me. I opted to stay silent, hoping against the odds that she would change the subject or give it up. I felt her fingers on my chin to turn my face toward her.

"Tell me, Alice."

I felt my chin tremble and tears leaked from my eyes and spilt down my cheeks. I shook my head.

"Oh, baby. Just tell me." She let go of my chin and I hid my face in my hands.

My mother stayed where she was. After a few minutes, I knew she would never give it up until I gave her answers. I rose unsteadily and went over to the wall that lay between my bedroom and theirs. I reached up and pulled down the poster of a movie I had hung on the wall. The hole in the wall behind it was plain to see. It was the size of a cup saucer. On the other side of the hole was the mirror in my parent's bedroom. It was a full-sized mirror. I had scraped the back of it enough that I could see through it. From my parent's side, it would appear normal unless you knew where to look. A little distortion, but not much else, unless you pressed your eye to the mirror. Then you could see into my room, too.

My mom gasped and moved over to look through the hole in my wall. I knew she could see her entire bed laid out before her. I had spent so many nights here watching my parents make love over the past few months. The dildo my mom gave me pushing gently into my folds. Watching my father and mother do things with each other that would have me gasping and panting in no time. They were beautiful together. It was art. Love at its purest.

Of course, this is where I saw my father's penis. Watched him use it on my mother. Everywhere. And how my mother adored it. Watching them together was so much different from watching the horses rut. There was no passion there. With my parents, it was glorious. The things my mother did for my father and the things he did for her: I wanted that so badly. It was why I was so horny all the time. I could never get the images of them lying together out of my mind.

My mom noticed the chair I had placed next to the hole. She pulled it over and sat, staring into her own bedroom. After a moment she opened my dresser drawer, and I hid my face. I knew what she would find there. It was always within reach. A special place for it next to my window into love. I lifted my face and saw my mom return the dildo to the drawer and partially close it.

I sat on my bed and then fell to my side and pulled my knees up to my chest. It was all destroyed. Everything. I felt shame for the first time. Before, watching my parents had been just a pleasure. A gift I could enjoy with no harm. Now, exposed, I felt shame rocket through me. Tears poured from me. The loss was terrible for me. I could never watch the strength of my father loving my mother. Their bodies covered in sweat. Their release. It was so pure and beautiful. Gone.

I felt my bed sink a little as mom sat behind me. She placed her hand on my back and side and stroke me softly. We stayed like that for a long time. The tears stopped, and I felt empty. Mom said nothing the entire time, and neither did I.

Mom rose, and I listened to what she did. I heard my poster being placed back in position. My dresser drawer being closed all the way. I heard mom move to my door and place her hand on the handle.

"This stays between us," she said.

I hesitated not understanding. Finally, I nodded, not sure if she could see me or not.

"I heard you pleasuring yourself, Alice, from my room. I thought you were lying in bed."

I said nothing.

"I never imagined this."

A new tear escaped my eye. Shame rose up again, and I nearly choked on it.

"Very imaginative. Don't stop on my account. Just make sure your dad never finds out."

My eyes shot open. My door opened and closed and when I looked over my mom was gone. What had she just said?

I shot up in bed and ran to the door. I flung it open and saw my mom hugging my dad in the kitchen. They murmured something to one another, and mom swung around in his arms until I could see her face. She looked seriously at me for a moment and then smiled and winked at me.

I closed my door and sat on my bed and thought. Was I imagining this? Did mom just okay it? She knows I'm watching and wants me to keep watching? Slowly, a smile crept up on my face. She did, didn't she? I wiped the tears from my face.

"Woo-hoo!" I yelled.

* * *

That night my parents made love in their room. I could hear them start the chase in their room. Laughter, giggles, and squeals. I knew their pattern. I looked at my poster and chewed my nails. Was it too soon? What would I see this time? I imagined finding my mom's face pressed up close to the mirror and glaring at me. I shuddered.