You see, I was that sister. Let me tell you the story, and then maybe you'll understand. In , our parents lived on a small farm in Wyoming, and our closest neighbors were 40 miles away.
Daddy raised horses and sheep. Momma kept some chickens and a huge garden that produced most of the food we ate all year long. We also had a milk cow and there were wild cattle around. Daddy said they were left over from the wild west days. Every once in a while he'd shoot one and drag it in with a team of horses and we'd butcher it.
Our days were full of making that farm work. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that our family was the whole world to Bobby and me. We were home schooled and, other than visitors who came to the farm, we never saw another soul. I didn't even know such a thing as TV existed until I was seventeen and went on a trip to visit my Aunt Betty and Uncle Bob, who my brother was named after.
Anyway, Bobby and I were each other's playmates, friends, everything to each other as we grew up. He was a year older than me. My first memories were of him, holding me with his arms around me, up on top of a horse as we followed our father somewhere.
It was bouncy and exciting, but warm and safe at the same time. Most of my other memories of being young also include Bobby. We helped on the farm too. We didn't think of it as work. It was just our life, and we did everything together. We even slept together. Our bedroom was up in the attic of the little house we lived in, and there was a home-made bed in there. It was too small to put two regular beds in, so Daddy made a bed that was custom fit into one end of the room. It was smaller than what would be called a queen bed today, but bigger than a double.
I know it seemed like acres big to us as we jumped and bounced on it when we were little. But when it came time to sleep we were invariably snuggled up together, like puppies, sharing each other's warmth and that nice feeling of being next to somebody.
Our parents weren't too shy about their lovemaking. In the evening, when all the work was done and we were all gathered in the main room, reading or playing games or whatever, mom and dad would start smooching, and pretty soon he'd have his hands all over her, and begin taking parts of her clothing off.
Usually they would get up and go to their bedroom, telling us kids they were going to "have a conference" and for us not to bother them. They did that a lot as we got older - having conferences I mean - but when I was seven or eight I remember several times when daddy would get momma all naked and then get on top of her on the couch. The only reason I paid any real attention was because of the sounds they made.
I mean Bobby and I lay in bed naked together all the time, right? Lying around naked was no real surprise. But momma would start moaning, and then they looked like they were wrestling or something.
Eventually momma would scream and wrap her legs around daddy's waist while he yelled too. I remember one night after this happened and Bobby and I sat there watching them and looking at each other like "What in the world are they doing?
How can you come when you're already there? Six months later when they did that again, on the couch, as poppa rolled on top of her I saw that his penis was hard and sticking out from his body. I'd seen his and Bobby's penises plenty of times, but never looking like that. So I watched carefully and suddenly realized they were doing what the horses did every spring. I got all excited and ran over to them yelling about how I wanted a little sister, or I was going to have a little sister or something like that.
They started laughing and both of them put their arms around me and crushed me to them as daddy yelled some more about coming.
Momma had big tears in her eyes and I asked her if she was OK and they laughed again. It was after that that they pretty much went to their room every time poppa started taking her clothes off.
They kept smooching in front of us though. When I was twelve, I got into bed one night in the fall and Bobby and I started talking. We usually did that as we went to sleep - just talked about the day, or what we were going to do tomorrow, or about a book one of us was reading or something. But this night, Bobby said, "Rachel? Why do you suppose they kiss so much? Poppa and Momma were always kissing and running their hands all over each other's bodies.
Then he put his arm over me and said, "You wanna try it? I mean the way they do? You know, see what it's like? It was OK, but our noses kept getting in the way. It was hard to breathe too. But we worked hard at it, trying to figure out why they did it so much.
Then, when I couldn't breathe one time, I opened my mouth to tell him I couldn't breathe and my tongue touched his lips. He jerked back from me as I gasped in air and said, "You licked me! In that instant we both knew exactly why our parents did that so much. We did it for half an hour that night, and every night after that. We still talked, but we kissed a lot too. I don't know why we didn't do it in the daytime.
I guess since we discovered it in bed we just saved it for bedtime. We had taken baths together until I was maybe ten or eleven. After that one of us would sit on the commode while the other one bathed, and then we'd switch. One day, about a month after my thirteenth birthday, I took my bath and then sat on the commode, naked of course, running my hands through my long blonde hair, getting the snarls out while Bobby took his bath and we talked.
Suddenly he said, "Hey! My knees were maybe a foot apart. I spread them further and looked and said, "So? You have it too. Then he looked at me sort of strange and said, "And your boobs are bigger too.
They had been growing pretty well for a couple of years and now they stood out six or eight inches from my chest. They didn't look like mamma's. Hers were all full and heavy looking, like the udder of Bessie, our milk cow.
Mine didn't look anything like that. They were cones, with pointed tips. The nipples were kind of puffy and round looking, like somebody had cut a golf ball in half and pasted them to the tips of my breasts. I wasn't much impressed with them, but they were all I had. I told him so. Then he smiled and said one was bigger than the other and that if that kept up pretty soon I'd be leaning over sideways all the time.
He thought that was oh so clever and laughed, but it made me mad. We got in a yelling match. About the time I yelled that he was just plain stupid and to quit looking at me, momma came in and broke us up.
She saw me there, comb in hand, naked, sitting on the toilet seat while my brother, wet and soapy yelled at me. She barked at us to break it up and we scowled at each other as he dried off and I finished my hair. That night though, as we kissed each other good night, Bobby's hand wandered up and over one of my breasts. It tingled when he touched it, especially the nipple, and I was surprised.
I mean we'd been touching each other for over a decade, but this felt different It made me want to slide my hands all over his back. I discovered his butt is like ROCK! The next night at supper my dad looked at my mom and then sort of cleared his throat and said, "Well, I guess I'd better be thinking about building on to the house.
Then he went back to eating. Bobby and I were astonished. We looked at each other and shrugged. Now HE looked surprised for some reason. Don't you want privacy? I'd spent every day of my life in the presence of other people. The only time I'd ever been alone was when I was working on a job that didn't take more than one family member to complete. It gave me time to think about things without being interrupted, but why would I want to be alone in a room of my own?