My Once & Future Kin

"Remember that old red tractor?" Brett began. "The little one you always used to like to drive around."

"Yeah?" I replied with a brisk nod.

Brett's face blossomed into a wide grin. "Well, it's yours."

I was stunned. Sure, I thought the old tractor was a gem and always loved driving the noisy little beast around the farm, but that Brett should give it to me defied my version of logic.

"The old Case?" Bob growled to his son, snapping me from my daze. "Why that was mine. And my father's before that. He gave that to me when I was young."

"Yep," Brett retorted. "And as I recall you gave that to me on my sixteenth birthday."

"I did, but I always meant it to stay in..."

Silence followed. Everyone knew what the last two words of that sentence would have been. The old man's wide eyes wandered to me before returning to Brett. "Well, it's yours son," he muttered. "I gave it to you. Do what you want to with it."

Brett's face was as bright as ever when he turned back to me. "I just did."

I shook my head two brisk pivots. "No," I started, easing the hand that held the key toward Brett. "You should keep it. It belongs..."

The younger man snapped his head to and fro in much the same manner as I just had. "Declining a gift is the same as declining a compliment."

I gulped as everyone's focus returned to me. "Ok," I started, pausing to tongue my lips, wondering if I only imagined I could hear my heart beating. "But can I leave it here? I don't really have much place for it."

Brett's brow bounced high. "For when you come back? Sure!"

I breathed a sigh of relief, believing I had found a way out of the quandary. "Yeah," I agreed. "For when I come back." But I didn't intend to come back, or stay any longer than I had to. I figured the goose wouldn't mind if one less person ate its leftovers. That went double for the bacon and eggs.

The only person I thought might be offended was Mrs. Carr, and I followed her to the kitchen as soon as the gift exchange was complete.

"Vicki," I began the instant she and I were alone. "That was sweet of Brett, but it was a disaster, like the rest of this holiday. And the longer I stay, the worse it'll be." I placed the old key on the table. "I best get my real keys and be off." I turned, intent on gathering my belongings and doing just that, but a single word stopped me in my tracks.

"Child."

With a sigh, I turned. "Yes?"

"You reckon Brett's a pretty smart boy?"

I nodded my agreement. "He was second in his class, yes?"

"Yes. And you're a pretty smart girl too. Always have been."

Nice of you to say, I thought, but caught myself before I said it, opting for a simple "Thank you" instead.

"You're welcome," Vicki responded in a somber, even harsh, tone. "But put you and Brett together and you ain't got the sense of two rocks the plow kicked up."

I tilted my head as my brow fell. "What?"

"The coffee's long cold and the bacon's still in the fridge, but you best wake up and smell something, girl! Brett's been sweet on you since the day he laid eyes on you. Of course, he's a good enough boy to not move in on his brother's girl, but that ain't the case no more, is it? Now it's just that he's just too shy to come right out and tell you and you're to busy feeling sorry for yourself to notice."

My mouth fell, quivering for a couple of seconds before I recovered to speak. Even then, I didn't say much. "Brett?"

"Who you think insisted Bob invite you? Now I don't know how you feel or if you're even in condition where you ought be thinkin' about such things, but you best at least let Brett know your notion on the matter before you slink out of here."

My eyes fell to the floor and I kept them there as I tumbled the information over in my head.

"Well?" Vicki at last prompted.

"He's not as shy as you think," I muttered with a nod. "He's told me a couple times. It was me that was dumber than a whole pile of rocks."

"Whatever it is, at least tell him goodbye so's he won't be expectin' you back."

"Yeah," I agreed. "I'll tell him how I feel."

"Thank you," Vicki whispered. "And don't ever think you aren't welcome here. No matter what. Anytime."

"I'll never think that," I assured her. "But I do need one thing to help me tell Brett how I feel."

"What's that?"

I beamed as my eyes welled. "A pair of overalls."

My spirits souring to heights I had not known in years, I helped Vicki with breakfast, or at least I tried to. My mind was elsewhere and, in hindsight, I am sure I was more in the way that anything else.

Breakfast was a blur. My mind raced ahead, hardly daring to believe what Vicki had told me. I glanced to Brett often. Each time I found his eyes on me, though he always moved them quickly away, adding weight to my newfound understanding that he had never thought of me as a sister.

After we did the dishes, Vicki and I stole away to the attic and the many treasures there, including several pairs of well-used denim overalls. Though many sizes too large for me, I picked the dirtiest, most worn, pair and retired to my room.

Fifteen minutes and a shower later, I made my way downstairs, wearing the overalls, the heavy woolen overcoat, my shoes, and nothing else. There I found Brett assembling a little red wagon.

"You suppose Robert's going to pull that today?" I asked.

Brett snickered. "I doubt he'll pull it before next Christmas."

"I was thinking to go try and start my tractor," I announced. "Care to help me?"

The edges of Brett's lips bounced up in sync with his brow. An instant later, the screwdriver slid from his hand. "Sure, but it's tucked in the back corner of the barn. We'd have to move half the equipment to get it out."

"That's ok," I said with a shrug. "I'd like to at least see it, even if we can't drive it. Maybe we could just start it?"

"No problem," Brett said. "C'mon."

My mind wandered as we walked without a word across the yard toward the older of the two barns. Since they built the newer barn, the Carrs no longer used the ancient structure to shelter livestock. The old building was essentially a huge shed, storing all manner of farm equipment.

Brett fumbled through some containers on a workbench near the entry, selecting a plastic quart jug. "Expect she might be a little low on oil," he noted before leading the way through the horde of larger tractors and other pieces of machinery until we at last reached the antique Case just where he had said it was, in the back corner.

"I shoulda thought to have brought a light," Brett muttered as he knelt next to the old machine.

"It's ok," I replied. "Like you said, we can't very well drive it today anyway." My eyes drifted upward to the deteriorating loft. "Remember when we played hide-n-seek that summer? When I stayed here while John was in boot camp."

Brett's eyes joined mine. "Yeah. You hid up there in the hay once."

I edged closer and asked in a softer tone, "Remember when you found me?"

Brett issued a pair of brisk nods as he returned his attention to the old engine. "Yeah, I heard something, but I was just reaching into the hay."

"Did you mean to grab my breast?"

I could not help but grin as I watched the young man stiffen. "I, uh," he stammered, looking up. "No. I was just reaching for where I heard the noise."

I knelt, so that my arm rubbed against his shoulder. "If you didn't grab me on purpose, why didn't you let go?"

Brett's eyes wandered and his throat flexed. "I didn't even know it was you. Or anyone."

"That why you kept feeling?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Did you like it?"

Brett shook his head. "No. I didn't know it was you until you stuck your head out. Even then I wasn't sure what I'd grabbed."

"So you figured it out afterwards?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I guess I should've said something then, but I was just a kid, you know. And I was embarrassed."

I smiled. "As I remember, you weren't a kid. But it's ok, we were acting like kids. And it was just an accident. I was just curious if you remembered, that's all."

"Oh ya," Brett muttered almost under his breath. "I remember."

I turned to the tractor. "Can we at least start her today?"

Brett shrugged. "I don't know. Hasn't been run in some time and it's pretty cold. It'll probably take awhile, if we can get her running at all."

"I don't mind. Do you have anything else you'd rather do?"

He reached for the dipstick and pulled the slender metal blade from the engine. "No. I guess not."

As quietly as I could, I stood and began to unfasten my overcoat. "How's the oil?"

Without looking up, Brett rubbed his fingers across the blade, then against one another. "Full. A little thick, but not bad."

The coat hit the packed dirt behind me with a thump. Brett turned, then jumped as he saw me standing behind him.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather do something else?" I asked.

"What?" Brett mumbled. The dipstick fell from his shaking fingers. His lips quivered for several seconds before he managed to stutter, "Aren't you cold?"

"Yes." I paused to bend over and blow a frosty breath toward him. "I was thinking maybe you could warm me up?"

Brett's jaw fell and I heard him inhale a jagged breath through his gaping mouth. "What did you have in mind?"

"Maybe you could check my oil with your dipstick?" With a grin, I stood upright and brought both palms flat across the exposed tops of my bosom. "Or maybe you'd like to see if these feel the same when it's not an accident." With that, I issued a token squeeze to each breast, then thrust my hands through the shoulder straps and upward. The loose-fitting overalls slid from my body, bunching around my calves.

Brett remained motionless, except for his eyes. These roamed all over my exposed body. Goose pimples formed on my flesh as I waited, but he did not move, except his eyes; and his throat once as he swallowed.

I stepped out of the overalls and stood almost above him. "Where's that country gentleman that ran his hands through my hair yesterday, telling me how beautiful I was?" My hands found my hips. "Of course, if you'd rather play with the tractor..."

Brett leapt to his feet. "No!" His hand started to reach out, then recoiled, forming two fists that shook before his abdomen. "I mean, yes. I am interested. If you are, I mean?"

I tried not to laugh, but a chuckle escaped anyway. I grabbed his left hand with both of mine. "Does it look like I'm interested?" I brought his hand upward, splaying his fingers as I did so until I had pulled his palm to my bosom.

I cast my eyes once to his before moving my focus back to his hand. Ever so slowly his textured fingers began to move over my skin; stroking, petting, caressing.

Suddenly, Brett withdrew his hand as if he had been shocked. There, on my bosom, was a streak of dirt and grease. "I'm sorry," he stammered. His hand flew to his jeans, scrubbing his palm against the denim.

I grabbed his other hand and moved it to my left breast. "I'm a country girl at heart," I whispered as his flesh again met mine. "I'm not afraid of a little dirt."

All four eyes followed his fingers as they moved over the softness of my breast, leaving little black streaks as they worked ever deeper into my flesh. Soon his caressing turned to a fondling and my body began to move in time with his fingers.

"You like? I whispered, leaning toward him.

"Oh, yeah," Brett affirmed with a nod, his own form tilting my way.

"Me too," I said. I then put my mouth to better use.

Brett's other hand returned to my bosom. He began squeezing both breasts in a rhythm that matched the motion of our lips as they slid against one another. My palms roamed his torso; grasping, feeling, and kneading the taut muscles of his chest. I had never thought of him as anything other than a younger brother, a boy. How wrong I had been.

"I lied," he whispered as our lips parted. "I always knew that was your breast I grabbed in the hay."

Wrinkling the bridge of my nose I hissed a deliberate, "I know."

This time he kissed me. I began to unbutton his flannel shirt. Pulling the tails from his pants, I went to work on his belt buckle. Soon his jeans were loose and I slipped a palm in to cradle his already rampant cock.

It was then, as I comprehended what we were about to do, that I was struck by an odd melancholy. I withdrew from the kiss to focus on his eyes.

"How long have you felt this way?" I asked. "About me, I mean."

He passed a single deep breath before replying, "Always. I knew you were special that first day I saw you on the porch. I don't know how, but I did." His left hand moved from my breast to my face, his fingers petting my cheek. "And I was right. You are."

"But..." my eyes wandered as I paused to swallow. I forced my focus back to his face, steadying my gaze and my resolve. "But you've been with other girls?"

"Sure. But it never worked. I always thought of you. I've only ever loved you."

That's when I knew I wouldn't be back to work in the mailroom Monday. Or Tuesday. Or ever. Brett saw in me exactly what I saw in him; an honest person, plain, down to earth. Maybe even simple. He would never pretend to be anything more than what he was, yet he would never be anything less than exactly what I wanted.

"I love you too," I whispered. "For longer than I've known."

Brett pulled me to him, hugging me, combing my hair with his fingers.

I sighed as I considered again my dilemma. Neither of us were virgins, but I so wanted us to be. He'd loved me for all those years, in the most honorable way imaginable. He was special too, and I wanted his first time with me to be something special as well.

My chest surged as a possibility blossomed within my brain. I caught my parted lips forming the naughtiest of smiles as I breathed through them. I moved my mouth as if to kiss him again, but shifted at the last moment and slid my cheek along the side of his face until my lips were near his ear.

"You need to shave," I noted in a whisper.

His breath warmed my ear as he replied, "I do?"

"Scrapes my tender skin. You don't mind shaving for me, do you?"

"No. I'll shave for you. Would you shave for me?"

I managed to smile through a snicker. "If that's what you want."

"Yeah, I think I might like that."

My smile blossomed. "What about me? Can I have what I want?"

"Sure."

I had no doubt at that point that he spoke the truth; that either of us would do anything the other asked, or didn't ask. But I decided to ask just the same. "Can I haveanything I want?"

"Name it."

I leaned against him, my lips all but touching his ear. "All these other girls you were with," I whispered. "Did you ever fuck any of them in the ass?" I felt his body shudder as my words registered.

Brett tongued his lips as I moved again to face him. "No," he said with a firm shake of his head. "I've never done that."

I wrinkled my nose. "Me neither."

It was true. John had hinted a few times, but the idea had been beyond repulsive to me. I'd never even given it serious thought, so loathsome the concept had seemed. I moved closer, until his features were a blur and I could feel his breath on my lips. "But I want to," I concluded. "I want you to be first. I want your cock in my ass."

I heard him swallow before he mouthed his reply. "I don't want to hurt you."

A broad smile seized my face. "If it hurts, we'll never do it again. But we won't know until we try. You did say I could have anything I wanted, didn't you?"

Brett tongued his lips, then nodded. "Ok. If that's really what you want."

I leaned again to kiss him, whispering, "It is," the instant before out lips met.

My hand was back in his pants as our mouths meshed against one another. This time, I grabbed rather than stroked his cock. Making a fist, I squeezed his hardness, trying to imagine what it would feel like buried in my bowels. I cannot say why something so repugnant suddenly seemed so right, but it did. I wanted him. My sphincter twitched in what I took to be anticipation.

My thumb found his crown, stroking his softness; each circle my digit made was faster and harder than the one before. Soon his cock was seeping and I rubbed his fluid over his flesh.

Using both hands, I peeled Brett's jeans away until his cock was free. I dropped to my knees, my lips clinging to his until they were forced to part. Shifting my focus down, my chest heaved with a massive breath as I beheld the sight before me. His cock stood proud, majestic, hard; all for me. All mine. His crown was flared wide, like a mushroom, or a helmet.

I'd never enjoyed sucking cock before. I'd done it, mostly because I felt obliged. Now I wanted to. I wanted to feel his cock in my mouth, on my tongue.

Grasping his shaft, I steadied it, then slipped my lips over his crown. At once, I sensed his flavor; subtle, salty, sour, masculine. My eyes closed as my tongue roamed the contours of his flesh. I sucked him like one of those bullet-shape Popsicle's, only this was so much better.

Brett must have thought so too. His hands found my hair. Soon, he combed my tresses with his fingers, repeatedly whispering my name.

My tongue explored his crown; the velvety texture, the ridges, that soft spot under his pee hole that really made him squirm. I squirmed with him, sucking him harder, wanting more. His seepage became a steady flavor upon my tongue. I realized I wanted two things. I knew I'd have both, of course, but for now one would have to wait.

With reluctance, I slipped my lips from Brett's cock and cast my eyes upward. "Are you ready?"

His head bobbed twice before he managed to gasp, "Ok."

"Then get your pants off," I demanded.

His head bobbed again as he complied. "Aren't we supposed to get some Vaseline or something?"

"You get the pants," I insisted. "I'll get the lube."

Brett stepped out of his jeans and then looked back to me. With a devilish smile I held up the jug of oil he had brought for the tractor.

"Is that safe?" he gasped.

"Probably not," I admitted as I poured a few ounces of the golden liquid onto my palm. My eyes locked on his, I moved my hand to his cock, rubbing the fluid along his length. "But too late now."

I bounced to where the overcoat lay. Assuming an all-fours stance, I looked over my shoulder. "C'mon," I beckoned, wrinkling my nose in what I hoped was a wanton and enticing manner. "Take my last cherry."

Brett nodded as he eased forward and knelt behind me. "I'm not sure what to do."

"Don't worry," I said. "I know you'll never do anything to hurt me." With that, I turned and looked away. Putting my hands to my elbows, I leaned forward until my head rested on my forearms. I closed my eyes and waited. Sure, I knew he wouldn't intentionally hurt me, but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt.

For a few seconds, I felt only the coolness of the air on my upturned ass. My sphincter twitched. My mind raced. Then both froze as I felt the softness of his crown at my entry. Squeezing my eyes closed, I tried to relax, to no avail.

Brett leaned into me, then stopped, then leaned again. Each push was longer, harder than the last. For a minute or two this continued, with no noticeable change. Then I tried to imagine pushing, rather than relaxing, as if I was sitting on the toilet, doing my business. My sphincter loosened just a bit. I felt the tip of his head squeeze past the outer ring.

I tried again on his next push, expecting to allow a little more in. Both rings surrendered in unison, allowing more than a little in. My eyes flew wide. I issued a low crisp grunt. It wasn't a tearing sensation like I had expected, more like a deep, sharp ache.

"Are you hurt?" Brett gasped at once.

I lied. "No. It feels good. Just go slow."

He did. So did time. I closed my eyes and prayed. As my violated anus continued to scream its discontent, I promised myself over and over again that this was my last butt-fucking.