The Daughter's Bed

There is a whispered tradition deep in rural Wales, far from where the tourists tread. It is spoken of with a knowing nod, smirk, and hushed whisper, rarely if ever discussed even among close friends. It is known simply as "the daughter's bed". Everyone knows someone, who knows someone, who's got a friend, whose friend's done it. Many dismiss it as myth or urban legend, it is like that swinger house up the road everyone knows about yet no one's been in, it is like the female fart, you suspect they exist but no one's ever confessed.

Back in the olden days, no one agrees when but probably in the middle ages, a tradition arose. In those busy periods, when an extra pair of hands is needed on the farm, it was common practice to give the worker bed and meals to ensure his labour was available at first light. Now, even though most people have cars, the custom has continued.

So, by now you may be wondering what is "the daughter's bed". Well, should a guest worker be of good character and liked by the farmer, he may upon his final night be offered the chance to spend it within the daughter's bed. Now dismiss any notion of incestuous relationships or worse, we'll be having none of that here. This is an honourable tradition.

The daughter, single but old enough to take a husband, will be offered the chance to lie with a man as if married. (OK, that sounds a little dated, given few women these days remain pure until their wedding night, but the wording has kinda stuck).

Historically, this not only rewarded a good worker but gave the daughter a taste of future married life and would encourage them to seek a husband. Now, of course, there was a catch. Pretty much anything went in bed as both saw fit, but he was not allowed to penetrate, she would feel his warm embrace, the intimate touch of his hand, the taste of his lips and as much as she'd noticed the hardness of his cock, it would not fill her. Instead, he would lay his cock upon her labia and take his pleasure by simply rubbing along its length. " How many broke the rule and slipped welcomed inside is best left to the imagination.

We all knew the rules, the history, the rumours. I was 18 when I learned it was no myth but it was my older sister Mary, sortly after her 19th birthday who had the first honours. She was a quiet girl, our life on the farm made having a social life difficult and as for dating, well that was always a struggle. Sure we met guys but if I'm honest they were bottom of the barrel types. That was to change when Dave arrived on the farm. He was mid twenties, hopping from farm to farm taking cash in hand work as many do. It became obvious that she quite liked this guy and with good reason, he was a cut above the rest around here. Tall, toned and blonde, she always had a thing for blondes.

Taking me into the barn, in low voice, she said: "you know, that stuff you hear about the daughter's bed?" I nodded "well mum's just approached me about it, she wants to know if I'm interested".

At first, I thought she was joking, but I'd learned to spot the subtle signs when she was pulling my leg. "What did you say?" I asked.

"I was kinda embarrassed, said I'll think about it, but she wants an answer soon."

"Are you going to do it?"

She paused "I'd like to, could do with the practice lol, but it's a bit embarrassing knowing my parents know".

"You, know you could just sleep with him the proper way, you are 19".

"Yeah but if I got pregnant dad would kill me, not like we'll be able to trace him".

The day passed and nothing else was said, evening fell and I could sense a certain atmosphere in the house, it felt like that period before the curtains raise in a theatre or when you sit in a doctor's waiting room and make small chat.

Then as the hour drew late, my father looked at our guest and spoke the words "would you like the daughter's bed for the night?"

Time stood still as we awaited his answer, would he be embarrassed, confess he's gay, or accept?

"I'd love to, if she'll have me".

She smiled the smallest of smiles, nodded and with that he stretched out his hand and led her away. We did not speak out of fear we'd be heard, and shortly retired for the night.

I lay in bed knowing my sister was with a man just behind my bedroom wall. I couldn't hear their whispered tones or any movement for a while, no matter how hard I strained. Then a faint but familiar sound drifted through my wall, the sound of a bed spring I'd heard many a time as she tossed and turned on insomniac night was now twanging with a rhythmic beat. In between a grunt or low moan would break through the wall and arouse my curiosity. Her soft moans told me she wasn't merely tolerating his cock out of politeness but getting great pleasure out of it. A burst of muffled squeal betrayed her orgasm and shortly after his grunt marked his. Silence fell and I felt the need to take care of my own aching.

Breakfast the next day was, shall we say awkward. He ate his mixed grill, we said our thanks and goodbyes and he departed. Our parents didn't say anything, not to us anyway, but my curiosity got the better of me and in the privacy of the barn asked how it was. She didn't hesitate with her answer

"Amazing, I'm really glad I did it".

"Has mum or dad said anything" I asked.

"Mum asked if I enjoyed it but that's it, dads been quiet on the whole thing".

The months rolled on until it became time to host a dry stone waller who came to repair some damage in the far field. It was going to be a long job, nearly a week. He was late twenties, decent looking with the type of body lifting heavy stones upon hilly ground gives a man.

Mother beckoned me to one side "do you remember that thing with your sister and that shearer? Would you like a go?"

As much as I'd fantasised about this day I still felt a tad uneasy admitting I wanted ago. I was 18, why did I even need my parents permission? Yet getting it and being offered to a man by them was weirdly appealing.

"I've discussed it with your father, we're ok if you feel you're ready".

I said "yes", trying to look coy rather than excited. Little else occupied my mind that day, anticipation built as we passed time in the evening, all-knowing bar him what was going to happen. I'm sure he was hoping for it of course. At the last hour my father spoke the time-honoured words "would you like to share the daughter's bed?"

"I'd love to" he stretched out his hand and with one nervous look back over my shoulder he led me upstairs.

"First time?"

"Yes, but I've always wanted it"

"No experience?"

"Not much, kissed a few guys that kinda stuff that's all".

He smiled, "don't worry, I'm really glad you said yes". Stepping forward he went in for a kiss, I assumed he was testing my willingness and responded in kind. His hand traced down my back and resting on my left buttock gave a gentle squeeze. Both hands slipped under my blouse and ran up my body lifting it up and over my head. He pulled his shirt off to reveal a muscular hairy chest. Once again he pulled me close, my lace bra pressing against his naked skin, experienced fingers soon loosened the clasp and it fell to the floor. Kissing down my body he planted a few kisses around my navel while stroking my thighs under my skirt, before gently pulling it down. I stepped out of the crumpled skirt and wondered what he had in his pants. Seeing my curiosity he unbuckled, and as his pants fell his cock bulged against the fabric of his boxers.

We climbed into bed and closely lay side by side, his hand resting on my hip. "Don't worry, I've done this more than a few times" we kissed once more, his bulging cock pressed against me. "Listen, I know it's your first time, and I promise not to enter you, but I will be treating you like I would any other woman. Are you OK with that? My hand on his cock answered that question. We slipped out of our underwear and moved our bodies closer.

After a short kissing session, he began to work down my body planting a trace of little kisses ending you know where. I quivered as his lips gently kissed and his tongue playfully flicked on my clitoris. Obviously, I'd touched myself before, but who hasn't? But this was another level. As much as I loved the sensations I longed for the touch of his cock upon it. He knelt between my legs and I got the first proper look of his cock, thick, bulging like a gnarly tree trunk with a bushy base. He rubbed the head up and down my pussy lips, It felt wonderful. "You like that?" I smiled and nodded. Leaning forward his cock lay flat against me, I ground against it "my you're keen" he whispered.

Slowly he made love to me, gentle pressure rubbing on my pussy lips tingled while his calloused hands fondled my breasts. His body leaning over me felt dominating yet strangely reassuring. If I was honest I wouldn't have stopped him I'd he slipped inside but he didn't. Even though I was aware my family were close It was like we were miles from anywhere and I soon found myself giving out little gasps and moans.

He lifted his cock off my pussy "kneel on the bed for me" I obeyed without question, I was his tonight. His large cock slid between my thighs and he lifted it up so it pressed firmly against my pussy sitting nicely in the groove. He pushed me forward further increasing the pressure and with his legs clamped mine shut. His arms embraced me, I instinctively knew he was going to pick up the pace.

"Foreplay's finished, are you ready to be fucked?"

"Please, please do me".

His cock rubbed faster, the bulging veins bumped along the length of my lips and with each thrust the tip of his cock tapped my clitoris sending shudders down my spine. I squeezed his arms for support and panted oh god as I took my pounding.

Now I'd explored my clit alone countless times, so I was no stranger to that pre-orgasm sensation. I felt it building, but I had no control, I knew he was in charge of it. He didn't slow down as I whimpered and shook as the orgasm washed over me. Where once I'd have stopped and cleaned up he was forcing me to keep going that little bit longer. My trembling body must have been too much, he grasped me tight and with a few hard final trusts shot his load. We lay exhausted and satisfied, too out of breath to deal with the sticky mess everywhere.

Morning breakfast was a quiet affair bar knowing looks. I wondered how much they heard or if they'd view me differently. He said his goodbyes and left to work on another farm and perhaps another girl.