Breakfast (Cereal) In Bed

"Oh God. That's so good!" Her lips jerked. "But let me know when you get close, and I'll stop."

My hip heaves were involuntary. I plunged into her mouth, over and over. "You're not the only one who needs satisfaction, lady."

Her mouth was full of cock. "Buff hoo knee to saa hoosef-"

"For Christ sake, I can't understand a word-"

She let my cock escape her lips. ""Don't blaspheme. I said, you have to save yourself." She sighed. "For tomorrow, for Poppy."

Her proposal bowled me over. "What?" I pushed her butt one way and pulled the opposite arm arm, forcing a three-point turn on her knees. Now she was facing me in a straddle, my cock doing its best imitation of the Washington Monument between us. "Your sister? You must be joking."

"That's why Lenny and I didn't have sex last week. He was going to give Poppy a special birthday present, on her eighteenth birthday."

Again with the birthdays? "And Poppy was okay with this? She knew?"

"Poppy and Lenny were very close. Sometimes, I even got jealous, that he'd prefer a younger woman to me. Not that they did anything. But if he had and Daddy found out, he'd never have survived."

With or without Daddy, Lenny hadn't. "Does your father know about Lenny's special gift for Poppy?"

"Oh no! Heaven forbid!"

More family secrets. "Well, I'm not Lenny. Poppy and I don't have any relationship. We're essentially strangers. She won't even talk to me."

"You spend some time with her tomorrow, and we'll see what happens. That's why I need you to save yourself." Her hand returned to my cock, which hadn't faded, given our discussion of a potential young sex partner. "If I let you orgasm tonight-"

"Like I said, I'm not Lenny. We could do it tonight, and I'd still be able to be intimate with Poppy tomorrow."

"You could?"

It hadn't been an offer, just a statement of fact about my resilience. "Theoretically."

"You mean you don't find me attractive, in that way?" Charlotte jumped from the bed and strutted back and forth, swishing the gown, undulating her hips, fucking the air. God, if I hadn't been at full length before, I sure was in reaction to her dance. She ripped her thong from her hips and moved closer.

By bragging, I'd opened a possibility she hadn't considered. "Charlotte, we should abstain, to honor Lenny's memory."

"Lenny would want the man he strived to be, to provide comfort to the love of his life. He wouldn't want me to suffer." She climbed onto my legs, her bare cunt poised for action. Her hand guided my erection to her pussy.

Was I really going to fuck Lenny's widow, the same day he was interred? "We could sit and cuddle. Maybe a mutual massage? I don't feel good about this."

"Then maybe you should think about someone other than yourself for a change." Her weight sunk down. "Oooh, that's a big one, Harvey." She pulsed her hips, and I drilled deeper.

"You're sure?" Like I could unfuck her after penetrating half my length?

She lay down against me and nuzzled her head against mine. "Just lay still and let me feel you in me." Her hip motions were slight but effective in absorbing my entire cock. No rapid thrusts, no frantic lunges, just civilized slow motion, like waves on the shore, in and out.

I almost didn't notice that Charlotte was building up momentum, it happened so incrementally. She moaned with each hip advance. I ran my hands across her ass and back under the lace gown. When I got to her bra, I unhooked it. She lifted herself up and flapped her arms, to throw off the remaining garment. In the process, her bra fell away, her breasts suspended above me, unattended. So I attended to them, first with my fingers, then bringing them to my mouth, one at a time. Charlotte was more active, humping. Instead of just laying there like a stiff, I moved in concert, rising up to meet her in mid-air. "What are you doing?" she panted.

"Fucking you back." Precisely what I supposed to be doing. She was gasping, her chest heaving. I felt her pelvic muscles tighten. She was approaching a big finish, and I let her achieve it, accompanied by deep breaths and head jerks that swung her tits.

I was close. I could have chosen to let my cock fade away, but I deserved an orgasm too. So, while Charlotte was winding down, I took control, rolled us over and lifted her legs onto my shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Charlotte panted, trying to catch her breath.

"Fucking you. Didn't you notice?" In that position, my hands were free to run all over, and I took the opportunity. Her skin was smooth for a farm girl.

"But Lenny never got on top. And after I came, we'd wind down together."

"I told you before. I'm not Lenny." I punctuated that fact with a deep thrust.

"Oooh God, no more." She was panting.

"Just a little. Didn't Lenny fuck you?"

"Not like this. Think about Poppy. Think about tomorrow." She was writhing below me. Seemed like she was enjoying my sudden burst of active enthusiasm. "Oh God, you're getting me all horny again."

"Terrific. Maybe we can cum together. Tell me how it feels."

"Talk about it? Lenny and I never used to-" She tilted her hips.

Was she trying to get away, or take me deeper? "Talking can be very sexy. Like how tight your cunt feels. And how perky your nipples get when you're turned on." I tongued one for emphasis. I broke from a steady series of jabs, changing to a fury of short thrusts. "I'm going to cum. And you're going to cum. We'll share the experience."

"Oh God. Oh God. I don't believe it. I'm - oh shit - don't stop - I'm -" She arched her back.

I pushed deep, spurted, and held my cock at her full depth. So after all was said and done, we'd done it, we'd honored Goat by getting our mutual rocks off. Charlotte was satisfied, twice, and I'd reached orgasm, after a day filled with sexual conversation and teasing. Charlotte didn't bother going upstairs to her room. She laid on her side, legs pulled up. I snuggled behind her, in spoon position. When my prick inflated during the night, I didn't take another opportunity, despite the fact that she rubbed my cock against her pussy. After all, I had to be ready for Poppy's indoctrination.

When I awoke, Charlotte was gone. I showered and changed into my comfy clothes, jeans and a golf shirt with the logo of a company that had long since gone out of business. The smells of breakfast were strong, even as I left my room.

Mr. Webb and his two daughters were on stools at an island in the kitchen. Charlotte was in a different housedress from yesterday. Hair in pigtails, Poppy wore a red checked blouse tied below her tits. Her stomach was bare, with a cute little belly.

Webb spoke to Charlotte, as though I was invisible. "I'll have Arnold take Mr. Marcus to the airport."

"Oh, that's already scheduled for later on. Poppy is going to give him a tour of the farm. As long as he's come all this way."

I'd cum last night, and hoped to do the same with her sister, who bolted from the table with a red face. High cut denim shorts exposed the bottom of her butt. Did she know what was on our joint agenda? My joint, if she was willing and I was successful. Her hasty departure, plate still full on the table, was not a positive sign.

I was quite surprised that there was no cereal at breakfast. After all, their fortune was made on "Groatz - Great Oats! Great taste!" Instead of eating their own dog food, we were feasting on eggs, waffles, hash browns, farm toast with butter, and bacon. Oh, and fresh milk. Really fresh, like right out of a cow. It didn't look like the milk I was used to, so while the family members were busy, I filled a glass with tap water instead.

Mr. Webb smiled broadly. "Everything you're eating came from the farm. We've got chickens, a potato patch, and the bread is home made. Do you like the bacon?"

Thick cut, it was just the right combination of salty and smoky. "Yes, very tasty."

Charlotte deadpanned, "That used to be Mr. Porker, Poppy's pet pig."

I choked, half-chewed food tumbling off my lower lip.

"You got him, Char." Webb almost fell of his stool, laughing. "Farm humor. But seriously, Mr. Porker got pneumonia real bad last winter. But it worked out all right."

"Really?"

"Yep, doc cured him." Tears ran down old man Webb's cheeks.

Charlotte's smile lit up the room. She was happy, teasing a city boy with corny jokes. Much better than her wallowing in the death of her husband. I wondered what would happen if I didn't perform up to expectations with Poppy? Would I be forced to walk home from Nebraska?

I'd eaten everything I put on my plate, plus the second helpings Charlotte had forced on me. After an hour or so to digest, I'd be ready for Poppy. I grabbed the edge of the counter, ready to push back.

"Where do you think you're going? It'd be a personal insult if you didn't have a piece of Poppy's birthday cake." Webb strolled to the double-size fridge.

Wouldn't a piece of Poppy be a viable alternative? After my food went down, I'd be ready to pork her. "Really, I've eaten way too much already."

Webb was approaching with a huge piece of two-layer white and chocolate cake with strawberry filling and vanilla cream frosting. "I won't take no for an answer."

I dragged my fork through the tall pastry. Swallowing was a chore. I went to the sink for a refill but Charlotte grabbed my hand before I could turn on the faucet. 'Don't drink that well water. Nasty chemicals." My stomach churned. What had I been washing my meal down with? She fetched bottled water, imported from Minnesota, and filled my glass. Mr. Webb got called away while I carved small chunks from the Great Wall of baked goods on my plate. It took twenty minutes more to consume Poppy's birthday cake. I could barely stand up, let alone walk.

Webb returned. "I'm going to need the jet this evening. Big deal in Europe is about to pop. You'll have to take your tour now. Otherwise, it won't be back in time."

Charlotte scooted me out of the kitchen. "You'll find her in the barn, probably in her loft. Now go on. She's waiting for you." I held my stomach, with no lascivious thoughts in my mind.

Waiting for me? Shit. My stomach felt stretched beyond its limits, about to burst. I was supposed to give Poppy her gift, feeling like this? Fuck Poppy? Fuck that! At least my blood had already rushed to my belly, to help digest the food. It wouldn't have as long trip to my cock from there, assuming I could raise an erection with such extreme gastrointestinal distress.

I slogged across the dirt back yard to the barn. The barn door was open. I checked my fly. Zipped shut. Horses in their stalls lined one side. As I walked past, they stomped hooves and whinnied. I'd spooked them, and they right back at me.

A voice called down from the upper loft. "Stop botherin' 'em."

It was Poppy, on a third deck near the roof. There was one ladder to the second floor, where hay and bags of grain were stored. Wheat for Groatz, or the leftovers for the farm animals? I grabbed the sides and stepped up. My foot slipped on the wood rungs. I took a quick breather on level two, looking up at Poppy's loft, but also looking down. Heights and I aren't friends. Not even close. Climbing a wooden ladder this high triggered an emotional response and involuntarily tightened my stomach muscles. Just what I needed after eating enough food for a small football team. Slowly, I climbed the remainder.

Poppy sat Indian style, the cutoffs riding even higher on her thighs, practically at her groin. Her face was in profile as she looked out a small window, shutters folded on each side.

I almost walked into an intricate spider's web clinging to the rafters. I started to raise a hand to knock it away.

"Don't! They've been making progress for weeks now. I been watchin," she said.

"Sorry."

"You know, you're no replacement for Lenny."

"I'm not trying to be."

"Lenny made me feel safe." She hugged herself, arms across her breasts. The self-squeeze pushed her tits together, bulging at the tied knot of her shirt. Any tighter, and they'd pop out. Or Poppy out. "You give me the heebie-jeebies."

"How come?" I sat a safe distance from Poppy. Part of me wanted her to untie her shirt so I could see her large naked breasts. Then again, I was in no shape to do anything about them. Hell, sucking her nipples would probably make me gag, not a very kind thing to do to any woman, especially one who is on the brink of indoctrination to womanhood. Or whatever they call it after a woman's been fucked once.

"You don't look so good. Here, try one of these." She handed me a crispy brown thing from a cellophane bag. I took a nibble. "What is it?"

"Pork rinds." She crunched down on one.

The joke about Mr. Porker bounced back in my head. And Charlotte's expectation that I'd pork her sister. I felt the rush of partially digested food up from my stomach. I leaned over the edge of the loft. The height was dizzying. Vomit spurted from my mouth. I gagged at the bile taste, bitter and chunky. I heaved again, splattering the dusty floor below.

Poppy had rushed to my side, holding her kerchief against my forehead. "Are you all right?"

"I over-did it at breakfast." I shook my head. Maybe I was done, or not.

"Here, wash out your mouth. Don't swallow." She held a plastic bottle of water. "Open wide."

I tilted my head back and opened my mouth. She poured a bit too much water around my mouth, some of it dripping down my chest. I swished the cool liquid around and spat the rinse out. She did it one more time. The process succeeded in refreshing my taste buds. "Thanks." Maybe now, she'd talk to me. "Charlotte told me you and Lenny were close."

"Uh huh. We'd meet up here a couple times a week in private."

Maybe Charlotte didn't know how close. "And what did you do?" Not fuck, according to her sister.

"We'd talk about stuff. Life. The world. What it all means."

The Goat I remembered was never that deep or philosophical.

She continued, "He was sad mostly. I tried to cheer him up. You don't seem to know him very well, being his best friend and all."

"It's been a long time. We lost track of each other. So how did you cheer him up?" A hand job by this zaftig cherub would raise my cock and my spirits.

"You can't tell. Nobody especially Char."

I held up the three-finger Boy Scout salute. "Promise."

"Okay. Lenny liked laying out and tanning." With the closed casket I had to take her word for it. "Well, sometimes I'd touch him and let him touch me back."

I was certain he wasn't touching her 'back' back. "Anywhere in particular?"

"At the beach, or up here, in private, like I said."

"I mean, where on your body?"

Her face regained that reddish tone. "I'd put his hand on my tatty. He liked that."

Who wouldn't? Even in my sad condition, I'd have loved to wrap my fingers around one of Poppy's tits. Except at her cup size, they wouldn't reach around. "Really?"

"You have Lenny's sad look. Would you like to touch me?"

I stifled a smile. Too much enthusiasm and she'd withdraw the offer. "I guess."

She plopped down next to me and slid my hand inside her shirt. Her skin was warm and smooth. There wasn't much of a bump where I expected a nipple. I positioned my hand under her breast, cupping from below, almost hefting it. The angle put stress on the knot of her shirttails. If the shirt popped open, she'd need both of my hands to keep those tits from sagging.

"Better?"

Much, but I couldn't tell her that. "A little."

"Maybe if I touch you." Her hand flattened against my stomach. Too bad. I was hoping fit something more - oops down at my groin, her hand groped around the denim. Damn, it would be so much better if - whoa, she found the zipper and was dragging it down. I stood up so she had better access, reluctantly pulling my hand from her shirt. It gapped further open showing a deep wide cleavage and untan crescents of breast. More than big enough for a tit fuck.

She succeeded in extracting my prick, which was only partially hard. "Looks like you're bigger than Lenny." My cock reacted to her stroke and blossomed. "Am I raisin' it? 'Cause you're getting' a lot bigger." She couldn't take her eyes off it. "So now what? Lenny was going to teach me about sex. But he's dead now, and Charlotte says you're the substitute."

I was having second and third thoughts. I could puke again any minute. Besides, Poppy was a nice girl. She deserved better than me. "I don't know if I can."

"Aren't you interested?" She licked her lips.

"It's not that. You're very sexy." That was no lie. "It would be a privilege-"

"Like I said, you're no Lenny. He and me, we had something special." She dropped my cock and turned away. Her ass was round and almost completely exposed. "Besides, you don't have to. I know all that sex stuff from watching the horses."

She'd certainly have had the opportunity, viewing animal sex from her private bleachers. "Okay." She was off the hook.

She stood up, hands on her hips. "That's it? You ain't gonna insist?"

"Nope. Not if you don't want to, and you understand how sex works with people." My cock hung out in the open. I guessed it wasn't going to get exercised today after all.

"Just the same as horses, right?" She crossed her arms under her breasts, which thrust them out. The bow holding the shirt came loose. The shirttails were trapped. If she dropped her arms, the curtain would pull back, exposing her big tits.

"I guess, although I've never tried it that way."

"I'll show you how they do it." She unfolded her arms. The shirt opened, wide enough to expose the inner curves of two voluptuous breasts, swinging from Poppy's chest. Large areola within light flesh triangles played peek-a-boo on her otherwise brown mounds.

"Horses don't wear shorts, do they?"

"Guess not." She popped a snap and dropped her shorts. No panties, just a very dense bush covering her vagina, and a thin tan line that spoke to a very skimpy bikini bottom. She bent over, stiffened her legs and arms and put her hands on the straw-covered floor. It was doggie position but not on her knees. More like horsy position. Her back was an arch, and her tits hung down.

"So what happens? Does the male horse approach from behind? With its cock pointing up?"

"Uh huh. Come closer."

I grabbed her hips.

"Unh un. Horses don't have hands. The stallion wraps his front legs around the mare."

So I followed her direction, made my arms straight and hung them on either side of her body like horse legs. My cock bounced against her hairy twat but that's all. "It's not going in."

"So, don't just stand there. Move your hips until we connect."

So Poppy was okay with fucking, so long as we did it like four legged animals, and without the use of our hands. I swiveled my hips, contorting to line myself up. "I can't seem to make this work."

She stood up. The shirt hung off her shoulders, tits in full view. They were fat and dark, which made the light bikini patches even more prominent, visually. Flat nipples. "Then how come it works for them?"

My palms sweated at the thought of touching her breasts. My cock bobbed, looking for action. "Maybe they're built to have sex in that position. Fortunately, humans have alternatives. You know, flexibility."

"Like what?"

"I could have used my hand to aim. And we can do it in different positions. Like face to face. Horses can't do that."

"I guess." She stepped closer.

"We've got hands to touch." I put my hands along her sides. Her breasts bounced against my wrists.

Her fingers got reacquainted my cock. "Like this?"

"Yep. They can't do things like this, can they?" I grasped her breasts from the sides and pressed them together.

"Nope. And horses can't kiss while doing it." She raised her face to me, face glowing, mouth moist.

I took the offered opportunity and pressed my mouth to hers. I hoped my vomit breath was gone.