We used to eat meals that would choke the Kardashian sisters. Our evening meal was as dour and deafeningly quiet as I remembered them but the menu had been altered. Mom had lost quite a bit of weight but she still dressed like impoverished Quaker. Those movies were the height of entertainment around our house because they A: were about farms and B: were good, clean, wholesome fun. When I hugged her goodbye, she looked like Marjorie Main from those old “Ma and Pa Kettle” films.

My first glimpse of her was a little startling. Real good,” Johnny answered un-enthusiastically. “How’s mom?” I queried as we drove through our rickety gate and down the long dusty drive. It did worry me that I might be transmogrifying into some sort of deranged horse-molesting pervert or I’d get caught one day orally pleasuring the family dog, but luckily I’ve remained exclusively sexually attracted to humans.

I used to wank myself senseless as they snorted and baa-ed their way to bestial ecstasy. My sex life, when I was going to high school, consisted of watching the goats and pigs fuck each spring (Not each other, of course. Since dad hightailed it for younger, smilier pastures, my social calendar on the farm had been blanker than Sarah Palin’s IQ test. “Prude” didn’t begin to describe her attitude towards acts of an intimate nature. My dear mother packed me away to an all-girls institution on the East Coast and the closest I’d come to a penis was snacking on a hot dog at the weekly softball game. That is if he got to go to a college, where they allowed ladies.

The ladies were going to eat him for dinner (and visa versa if he was lucky), once he got to a big city. At the ripe old age of 17, Johnny was maturing into a pretty hunky looking guy. He didn’t even have his license when I left to make my mark in higher academe and now he was driving around reeking of Old Spice. Was that aftershave I smelled? The world was definitely marching on.

When my sweet little Johnny picked me up at the station, he seemed different. She had become increasingly anti-men and anti-fun since my father had run away with a woman who was capable of smiling. Getting away from my mom, who can be quite a pill at times, and our desolate farm had changed my world view entirely. My first year of college had been an amazing experience. It had been six un-dreary months since I’d seen my mother and brother. Last summer, I journeyed back through majestic hills, verdant valleys and fairy-tale villages to my sadistically dreary homestead. Incest, farm sex, sister-brother sex, erotic literature, sexy stories, female erotica, erotic short stories, free erotica, adult fiction,, XXX stories, erotic fiction, short sex stories, erotic super shorts, adult stories, sexually explicit stories, porn stories, short erotic stories, kinky sex stories, erotic, humor, xxx short stories,

Sister brother sex stories