The Life of a Hoosier Farm Girl Ch. 09

Altogether we made love five or six times that weekend. By the time we were done, and after I sobered up, I was horrified by our behavior. Who commits adultery with her own brother? I was so embarrassed I tried to keep my distance from Kyle, but if I am honest, there is another reason: Whenever I saw him I wanted to jump his bones. I never lusted for any man the way I lusted for Kyle. I still do lust for him. He plays a big role in many of my fantasies.

They say that time heals all wounds. But time never even diminished my lust for my brother. Frankly, I was scared of myself. If I saw Kyle, and if he still lusted for me, there was no question we would both go at it. Worse, if Kyle did not still lust for me, I knew I would be devastated. All in all, I thought it best if we stayed away from each other.

I did do one thing I probably should not have done. When he was overseas, for his birthday I sent him a selfie of me topless. He loved it. I knew he would pass it around to his army buddies; that's what they do. To be honest, I got excited thinking about that.

For his second birthday, I had a girlfriend take a photo of me nude. I was demurely posed, sitting in a chair with my legs crossed, for a tiny modicum of modesty. For his third birthday in the service to our country overseas, I was again naked, but this time my legs were splayed.

For Kyle's fourth birthday while in the army overseas, I sent him a picture of me naked and pleasuring myself with a dildo. That one did not go through, and he wrote to me asking for a picture. I figured it had been censored, so this time I sent him a picture of me fully clothed, but sucking on a banana suggestively. That one made it through.

Despite my naughty pictures we did manage to stay away from each other. Until now.

Kyle was finished with his stint in the army. He was coming home. He was sick of warfare, and he now even shared my hatred of guns. Being an Army Ranger was a big deal, and a big honor, but Kyle was done. He was through with it.

He had nowhere to go, other than back home in southern Indiana, and that did not cut it for him. He wanted to visit me in New York City. It was his message that he would like to visit that served as the inspiration for the revenge plan. This was the plan I formed when I was on the Q train subway some time ago. Kyle was a key component of the plan, even if he did not know that yet. Kyle did not even yet know of my torture, rape, and my narrow escape from being a victim of murder.

I met Kyle at the airport when he arrived home. He was now out of the army, travelling as a civilian. I was nervous beyond belief when meeting my brother. What if he no longer was sexually attracted to me? After all, our weekend affair had been over seven years ago. A lot can happen in seven years. I knew he still loved me; he would always love me. But did he still love me the way I wanted -- I needed -- him to love me?

When he saw me, his face lit up into a smile that would have melted the heart of Darth Vader. I'm not Darth Vader -- far from it- but I too melted into a puddle of hormones when I saw him. He looked more handsome than ever. Even better, he looked thrilled to see me. I knew at that very moment that our magic, our chemistry, had not left us. It had not even dulled.

This meant of course my life would become complicated, having my brother stay with Ray and me. I suddenly became scared. Why didn't I think of this messy situation before? I guess because I was sure that Kyle would no longer lust for me; doubtless he would have grown up and sampled dozens of women since me; maybe some sexy Iraqi women, or some buxom Afghan women, or some of those hard body female soldiers, or the slutty women in ports of call. I could not imagine any woman resisting his magnetic pull.

Could I ask Billie Jean or Chloe to put him up? But what if they could not resist him? How could I tell them my brother was off limits and to save him for me, without confessing my incestuous urges? Hell, they were not urges: they were cravings. They were obsessions. It was unbridled lust between us. What the blazes was I going to do?

As we say in Indiana, I had been as dumb as a sack of rocks. I was putting myself into an impossible situation.

For once, I was lucky. There was a ton of traffic, and the taxi took a long time to get my brother and me home from JFK Airport. In the taxi, Kyle thanked me for sending him those erotic pictures of myself. He said, "You have a huge fan club among the grunts I served with. Some of them may look you up, I'm afraid." I figured I could handle it.

When we got home there was a note from Ray. He had to go to Singapore at a moment's notice, and ironically, he had left for JFK to catch the next plane there.

Ray's company was sending him, and first class, too, since there had been no forewarning. He had to troubleshoot their system there. Maybe our taxis crossed on the highway? He would be gone for two weeks, but try to come home earlier.

So, the apartment was empty when we got home, and it was a bit of a mess. I read Ray's note and explained the situation to Kyle, who was sorry he would have to wait to meet Ray, but nevertheless he was thrilled to hear the news. We stood still and looked at each other. "It is wonderful to see you again, my sweet brother," I said. "I had been really worried about you, far away, continuously in harm's way. I can't tell you how glad I am to see you in one piece."

"Maybe you can show me?" Kyle said, wasting no time breaking the sexual ice.

Suddenly shy, I moved away from him. "I have so much to tell you," I said. "So much has happened. Much of it very bad."

"Bad news can wait. I want to show you how much I missed you. I'll need several hours, perhaps days, with you in the bedroom," Kyle said.

"I work the swing shift at the hospital today," I replied. "It's only three hours before I need to leave."

"But it's Sunday!" Kyle complained.

"I know. It's horrible how inconsiderate people are to fall sick on the weekends, but hey, what can a girl do?"

"I'd like nothing more than for you to show me what a girl can do," Kyle said, grinning from ear to ear and pulling me towards the bedroom.

I was "saved" by the bell. My lust was boiling over and I was about to let Kyle do whatever he wanted with me, and hopefully even more than that. I was sure he had learned all sorts of perverse tricks over the years. I suspected he was much kinkier than I. I am just an adulterous, incestuous, exhibitionist, voyeuristic slut, who does not mind some light bondage from time to time. I wondered if perhaps Kyle is the kink overachiever in our family.

I went to the door. Had it rung five minutes later, I doubtless would have been naked, wrapped up in Kyle's arms. It was Billie Jean, and of course I invited her in. Billie Jean is a 30-year-old blonde beauty. She is not the irresistible sexpot her younger sister is; no, she is a more mature, statuesque, beautiful woman, conveying dignity with the promise of sexual pleasure beyond a man's dreams if -- and this is a big if -- she could be seduced into giving it to him.

Billie Jean can convey an unapproachable air, and when she finally relents for a man, that man thinks he is being given very rare access to the secret pleasures of the ages. Moreover, one can see all this in her from the very first moment one lays eyes on her. Her thick Louisiana accent completes the picture.

Kyle was stunned when he saw Billie Jean glide into the apartment. I felt like saying, 'Kyle, I'd like you to meet my friend, the goddess,' but of course instead I simply made introductions. Kyle was in a state of shock. After Billie Jean said she was pleased to meet him, and they shook hands, she said to me, "Honey, you never told me your brother was so handsome. Add that to your beauty, my dear, and you must have quite a family."

"It's just the two of us," I said. "Until Ray knocks me up."

"Ray?" Kyle asked.

"Her lover, dear. Where is he?" Billie Jean asked.

I gleefully told her about Singapore, and seeing my glee, the ever so quick Louisiana woman knew I had the hots for my brother. Probably she had seen incestuous lust in the eyes of some of her fellow Cajuns, way back when, and knew how to recognize it. "Does Kyle know what happened to you and me at the hands of those scumbags?"

"No, not yet. Kyle just got here. We're freshly back from the airport," I said.

"And little old me is ruining your family reunion? Let me apologize and take you both out to brunch. We'll include Chloe and Kyle can have some eye candy; he's probably starved for the sight of sexy, young, American girls; aren't you, my sexy man?"

Billie Jean was a little much for Kyle (or any man) to handle just then. He looked like a deer caught in some blonde headlights. He nodded dumbly, disappointed I could tell that he was going to have to wait to make sure I still wanted to possess him sexually. He was beginning to feel unsure about me. He looked nervous, and I figured that's why.

As for me, I was glad to wait to enjoy Kyle. I wanted to feel less tawdry, and take a little time to adjust to having him near me, and to temper the lust that was raging in my body, especially the part below the Mason-Dixon line. So, the three of us went out to lunch. Billie Jean texted Chloe and she joined us.

When Kyle saw Chloe as she made her way to our table at the crowded brunch place, he almost lost it. Modesty aside, he was lunching in New York in the company of three beautiful women. I am the least pretty of the three, but if you like Hoosiers, it's hard to find a prettier, or a sexier, woman than I am. Of course, I am short, fine boned and delicate, and my boobs are just a little too big for my body to be perfect. But otherwise I am not the kind of girl, to put it into Hoosier crude, that a man would kick out of bed.

Billie Jean and Chloe both were flirting mercilessly with Kyle. Only Billie Jean had momentarily suspected we lusted for each other. It seemed, however, that she had forgotten or dismissed the idea, since she was making a play for Kyle, only to be outdone by her younger sister Chloe. Chloe even rested her hand on Kyle's leg.

To calm the women down, I kept referring to Kyle as my brother, calling him "bro." I thought that would at the least slow them down a bit. Perhaps it did, but if it did, it was not by much. When brunch was over and we asked for the check, Billie Jean asked if Kyle knew about "The Plan."

"He knows nothing," I said. "He just arrived a few minutes before you dropped in."

"Well then, let's take him back to your place and bring him up to speed," Billie Jean said. "You okay with showing him the videos of you being tortured? I mean because you are naked and spread eagle and all," she said, loud enough so that Kyle and even the neighboring tables could hear as well. Billie Jean also spoke slowly, laying on the southern Louisiana drawl, and somehow that made what she said command attention, even in a busy brunch place in Manhattan.

I wanted to crawl under the table.

None of this was lost on Kyle. I could see the horror on his face that his big sister (even if I was much smaller than him, and looked like a fragile china doll compared to his, tall, broad shouldered body, rippling with muscle) had been tortured?? I could see him wondering what had my sister gotten herself into? And what was 'The Plan?'

I gave up on the idea of enjoying sex with my brother for the immediate future, and the four of us returned to my apartment. We sat Kyle down and three of us beautiful women stood before him, telling him the story of how all three of us narrowly escaped death, even if we did not escape rape and torture at the hands of those evil, sadistic men.

To bring it home, Billie Jean put a video on the DVD player. Suddenly, there I was, stark naked, hanging in the air from my wrists, my legs spread wide apart by the ankle constraints. Billie Jean had correctly inferred by this point that Kyle and I had been intimate, so she was not worried about showing Kyle my naked body on video.

Kyle shuddered as he saw the back of Adolphus as he approached me brandishing a razor-sharp hunting knife. He saw the paintings of St. Sebastian lining the walls of the room. Chloe had pointed them out to him, since it was more natural to look at the naked woman hanging from her wrists, her legs spread, in the center of the frame (who was me!).

Kyle could see the real fear, the terror, in my eyes as Adolphus ('Al') approached me with the knife. He saw Al slash me, opening up a large wound that immediately gushed blood from my body onto the bed's mattress below.

I did not scream, but remained silent. He saw me involuntarily pee, too, my urine cascading down to the mattress to join the pooling blood, giving the combined mess a sickly pink color. The camera panned to Alex, sitting calmly and painting a portrait of my torture. I called up a picture of the portrait on my computer and showed it to him.

I also showed him Billie Jean's portrait from her torture and near death, which preceded me by two weeks. Chloe had escaped before they tried to bleed her to death, but I did show Kyle a video of her being raped by Harry and Alex. Now Kyle had seen pictures and videos of all three of us women, all naked, and either being raped or tortured or both.

Kyle was horrified beyond belief and he hugged me. He was also ashamed, I could see, because he tried to hide his erection, caused no doubt (at least in part) by seeing Billie Jean, Chloe, and his own sister me, all naked, boobs hanging down, and legs spread.

Making it harder for Kyle, Billie Jean removed her top to show off her scar. Not to be outdone, I removed mine, too. We both had on bras, but Kyle, horny as hell no doubt, was now seeing two gorgeous and sexy women dressed in only their bras, at least above the waist.

I had suspicions, and Kyle reluctantly much later confirmed them, seeing us women being tortured and seeing Chloe being raped had turned him on. I always suspected Kyle was kinky, but this was way beyond the norm. After all, it's perhaps okay to be turned on when porn actors pretend to be tortured, but this was his own sister here who truly was tortured, raped, and only narrowly escaped death. Not to mention Billie Jean and Chloe, two wonderful women he now knew.

At this point my suspicions were just that: only suspicions, and I dismissed them. But Kyle's hard on was not going away. I knew Billie Jean had figured out Kyle and I lusted for each other, and doubtless she was going to tell that to her sister Chloe, so I said to them, "Kyle and I have some catching up to do. You two girls can have some fun with him tomorrow, but for the next 24 hours he is mine. All mine." Then I got up, took Kyle's hand, and led him to the bedroom.

I closed the door and looked at him. He looked at me. I was dressed below the waist, and in a bra above the waist. I slowly undressed, locking eyes with Kyle as I did so. Kyle undressed himself. God help me, I wanted him. His cock made it quite obvious he wanted me, as well. We each walked slowly towards the other. Neither of us noticed the bedroom door slowly open.

Kyle put his arms around me, pulling me into him. We kissed. We held the kiss for a long time; maybe ten minutes? Kyle ran his calloused, rough, large hands all over the smooth, soft skin of my back. My nipples rested against the dark hair of his chest. His hair tickled them, and I moved my boobs around a bit to enjoy the sensation. Kyle's strong hands tenderly squeezed the two cheeks of my ass, and he ran a finger along the crack of my ass.

"Let me take in the sight of you a little more," he said. "I have dreamed of this for eight long years. Every time I had sex with a woman far from these shores, I imagined she was you."

"Were there many women?" I asked.

"Oh, yes. Many," he said.

"Were any of them not whores?" I asked.

Kyle laughed uproariously. "Yeah," he said, "Some of them were just nice girls, having some fun."

"Any one of them special for you?" I probed further.

"Two of them. Twice I thought I was in love."

"What happened?" I asked.

"I was indeed in love. They were not. They were just using me. Each had her own agenda. Both relationships ended badly. Now shut up, Nancy. Lie down and spread your sexy legs for your brother," Kyle said, reinscribing the incest angle of our relationship.

I did as I was told. I'm a good girl, and I like to follow instructions. I gasped when I felt Kyle's more mature, adult cock enter me, after these long eight years of every other man's cock, or so it seemed. Kyle's cock had known many women since that first time long ago when he was only 18. This hard won knowledge was reflected in how he used it.

This was no longer my innocent younger brother. This was the cock of a world-weary warrior, expressing a hunger not only for pussy, but for my pussy: Mine, and only mine. This was what I needed: the strong, passionate, loving cock of my brother. The prodigal son had returned, and he was now in my bed. God, it felt good.

I lost myself in the pleasure as he pumped away inside me. How I needed this! How good it was. As I thought these thoughts my body memory took over. My legs wrapped around Kyle. I was so small, and he was so big, they could not wrap around him, but they gamely tried nevertheless.

Kyle took charge and he reared up, took my legs and moved them straight up, pointing towards the ceiling, thereby exposing my pussy to his hungry eyes. It was a good thing I did yoga; I was limber enough for this new-found kink of my brother. He then plunged back in, and I moaned loudly as he did so.

I felt the sensations building. They were building, building, slowly and relentlessly building, and then bam! It came. I screamed softly as the waves of an orgasm rolled over me. Kyle kept right on fucking me through my orgasm, as if his life depended on it, still keeping my legs straight in the air. I had rolling mini orgasms as he continued the fuck.

This felt so good. It was just what I needed. For the first time in a long time I managed completely to forget my rapes and my torture, and simply got lost in the pleasure of the love my brother and I were mutually expressing.

Kyle finally came. He pulled out at the very last minute and shot his load all over my stomach. He did not know, apparently, that I was on birth control. Thoughtful to the end; that was Kyle. Done, he lay on top of me. When Ray does that, I push him off. But I could not get enough of Kyle. I let him lay on top of me as long as he wanted to do so. He was heavy, but it was the weight of a man I loved, and one whom I had missed so much it hurt.

I thought, perversely, of the words to a song: "He ain't heavy; he's my brother," and I heard it being sung in my head just then.

I became aware of women on either side of us. Billie Jean and Chloe were both naked, and each began to stroke Kyle's back. Alarmed, I spoke, "I said tomorrow, girls..." and I stopped when I was hushed.

Billie Jean rolled Kyle off me, and onto his back. She ran her hands all over his body, ending (of course) at his flaccid cock. I knew it would not be flaccid for long. While she was caressing Kyle's manhood, Chloe climbed up onto the bed and onto me, and she lay on top of me, her boobs crushing mine, and she kissed me. Nobody, man or woman, kisses as well as Chloe. Only one of her kisses could melt a heart of lead.

Kyle, having Billie Jean play with his cock and watching a little girl-on-girl action alongside him, became hard in record time. Our job is done, Chloe," Billie Jean said. She walked away slowly, swaying her naked hips suggestively.

"Already?" Chloe replied, dismay in her voice, as she climbed off of me. The two women rolled Kyle back on top of me, his hard cock pressing against me.