I watched Billy lay back on the bale, his right hand still on his penis, so only his legs were visible with the big sac and the long thing standing straight into the air. His hand worked up and down in rapid strokes and I almost moaned out loud because I was so excited.
I moved my legs again, rubbing the lips of my pussy together. My whole body seemed to be filled with pleasure. I wanted to drop my pants and touch myself, but I was afraid to. Billy was hidden from view, but if anyone had walked in the main barn door they would surely have seen me.
It happened again, only this time Billy's hand stopped it from shooting into the air. Instead, it poured down his fingers. Actually, it seemed to ooze from the head and run down his hand over the moving sac between his legs, into a puddle on the bale, where it quickly soaked in.
Again, I hid until Billy left the barn and then went back to the house and tried to fall asleep. I couldn't, no matter what I tried. Even warm milk wouldn't do the trick. My whole body seemed to be jumping. It was the first time I was really aware of sexual excitement, and it was only the beginning.
In the months that followed two things happened. I followed Billy into the barn just about every time I could. Also, my body seemed to be rapidly developing from that of a gawky girl into a young woman. My breasts were beginning to grow, my pussy was beginning to be covered with soft hair, and my thoughts were constantly on this matter of sex.
The focus of my mind all the time was on my brother's penis. It was all I knew about sex, it was my only knowledge of the male body, but it showed me what kind of emotion the sight of it could stir up in me. I wanted to touch it. For months I dreamed of one thing: being able to stimulate Billy's cock as I knew I could from studying his own manipulations on all these trips to the barn.
I was soon to get my wish.
CHAPTER THREE
One morning, about five months after that first momentous scene in the barn, I was sitting in the swing hanging from the old oak tree in our backyard when Billy entered the barn. It was normal for him to go in the barn on a Saturday morning, helping Dad with the chores, but by now I was really spying, so I noticed him give a long hard look around before he entered, as if to insure privacy.
He may not have seen me, or perhaps he did and thought I was so engrossed in my reading that I didn't see him. He ducked into the building. I knew what he was up to, even though he had always gone into the barn at night, and I was surprised when he went in there early Saturday morning with that look on his face.
I crept to the front door. Dad was far out in the field and Mother had gone to market, so I knew, as I suppose Billy did, no one was about to disturb us. I walked quietly across the floor to the partition and took my usual place behind the thresher.
Billy was unbuckling his jeans quickly. As soon as they dropped to his knees, I could see his penis hard inside his undershorts. He pulled them down and took hold of his organ with his hand, as usual. But then he stopped. He bent down and unfastened his boots and sat on the bale and pulled them off. Immediately after that, he kicked his jeans and undershorts off his legs, so he sat clad only in his shirt and socks. He spread his legs wide and cupped the sac between his legs with one hand while the other worked his penis in the familiar up and down strokes.
I pressed my hand against my crotch, the way I always did while watching him, and something deep inside me quivered and tingled. My knees felt weak and I began to sweat. I tried to breathe easily, fearing that Billy would hear me. But he was breathing so heavily himself, I doubt if he could have heard anything.
I watched him in amazement, because this time he did something I had never seen – nor dreamed possible – before. He fell back against the bale, as he had done many times in the past, and spread his legs wide. Usually he worked his penis with his right hand and held onto the bale with his left, or rubbed it over his scrotum.
This time his left hand worked itself down to the crack of his ass. He rubbed it, stroked it for a time, and then started flicking his finger exactly at the opening. He was moaning and every few seconds his legs jerked as pangs of pleasure shot through his handsome body.
Then it seemed I was watching his finger and nothing else – my eyes were glued to it. He moved the index finger to the opening of his anus and slowly pried it open, teasing it gently. Then the finger slid up his ass! It honestly slid all the way up there! I couldn't believe it. I felt hot and wet between my legs and I thought of his finger going up my ass and I nearly fainted there in the barn.
Billy evidently loved the sensations the finger was causing because he began to move his hand faster and faster as his head rolled from side to side. In a minute, he lifted his legs into the air and shoved his finger in as deep as he could get it to go and then he spurted – the largest load I had ever seen pour from him.
I was in a trance. I memorized the picture, at that moment, and thought about it for weeks, months, years after that. I still think about it. It was quite a sight.
Billy left the barn as usual and went back to the small field where he had been working. Later that afternoon, when I had finished the book I had been reading, I strolled over to the field and offered Billy some of the chocolate bar I was eating. We sat on a tree stump and shared the candy and talked. In the middle of our conversation I said something that I shouldn't have.
Billy said to me, "Darn, Maggie, I think I lost that fifty-cent piece I had in my pocket. I can't find it."
And I replied, "Maybe you dropped it in the barn."
There was a prolonged silence. Billy's face flushed red for a moment and he looked embarrassed. Even if I had not known what he had been doing in the barn, he would have made me suspicious by the look on his face.
"How… how did you know I was in the barn?"
"I saw you go in. I was reading my book in the swing."
"Oh." Silence again. Then a phony explanation. "I needed some tools so I came back to the main barn."
"I didn't see you leave with any," I said, which complicated matters for him.
He stumbled over his words and said something about not finding the tools he needed. I don't remember much more of the conversation, but I knew from that moment on he was suspicious and I was careless. I should have been extra careful when hiding and watching him, but I wasn't. I think I secretly wanted to be caught, because I certainly was longing to touch his penis the way he did.
A few days later, after supper, Billy went to the barn with Corky. I followed. Everything went well until Corky happened to get up and walk around the partition just as I was sliding my hand into my panties. The dog scared me – had been so intent on Billy that I forgot to watch Corky – and I jumped and let out a yell. Billy came around the partition in a matter of seconds, his hard penis standing out in front of his jeans, which he had tried to pull up without much success. He just stood there staring at me while Corky kept barking. We didn't know what to say or do, we were both so embarrassed.
Finally, I turned and ran out of the barn – heard him call me but I didn't turn around – and across the yard to the house. I darted in the door and locked myself in my room, shaking with fear. I didn't want Billy to be mad at me, that was my first concern. We had always been close friends and I didn't want to lose that. We had always been in a kind of conspiracy against our parents, not that we didn't love them, but rather as a reaction to their strict moral code. We had little in the world other than one another.
It was late that night when I heard the tap on my door. I sat up, wondering where I was, for I had fallen asleep and had been dreaming I was walking along a seashore someplace. I blinked my eyes and realized I was lying on my bed and someone was tapping lightly on my door.