Tommy Joe’s thick, stiff cock didn’t pull back when she expected it to either, he just held it there, and held her little head in his big strong hands so she just had to take the dick clogging up her throat and airways. She tried pushing back but he held her like she was nothing. Just as she was about to pass out from lack of air, he pulled back.
She inhaled hugely around the end of his cock in her mouth to fill her lungs, and as she did, he started to squirt into her throat. His jizz was hot and thick at first and it went down both pipes, choking her anew. She coughed as she gagged, and he yelped as her teeth accidentally bit into his fat meat, but still he came, the cum turning watery now, filling and overfilling her mouth. She had to swallow just so she could grab another breath, and although she thought it was bitter and sort of nasty, she also thought it wasn’t all that bad, except for the fact that she was close to dying from choking.
It felt like forever, and her face was a mess of tears and makeup and jizz she couldn’t manage to swallow by the time he let go of her head. Her throat was gouged and scratched and sore beyond words, and her stomach was rumbly and awkward and full of his spunk. She felt like she had just eaten Thanksgiving dinner, then ridden a roller coaster. She spat out what little was left in her mouth and wiped his loose semen off of her chin and cheek.
He had the biggest smile on his face she had ever seen. “Oh baby I love you,” he said, leaning down to give her a kiss.
Janie’s voice was as hoarse as if she had a full-blown case of laryngitis from the scraping his hard cock had given it. “Don’t,” she croaked. “Jist don’t.”
Tommy Joe stayed in place on his knees and watched her. She wiggled her cutoffs back up, got on her knees like he was, and finished pulling them up over her round butt and hips. She grabbed her shirt and put it on and retied it under her breasts, then wiped her eyes the best she could with her thumbs.
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” she said in a hoarse whisper, then gave him a wan smile, kissed his cheek, and left him kneeling in her loft with his limp cock hanging out.
Chapter 4
JimBob’s family was mighty poor, and he had to share a bedroom not much bigger than a closet with his twin step-sister Susie. They weren’t identical, and that was probably a blessing for Susie, since JimBob was fairly homely. He didn’t know how it worked, but Mama had told him when Susie and her Daddy moved in that she was his twin, and Mama knew just about everything. Susie was possibly the prettiest school-aged gal in town. Both of them had failed several grades, but were being pushed to finish high school by their mother—at the age of eighteen, he was in his second freshman year, and Susie was finally a junior.
He was also fairly clumsy, so just to save him from getting hurt every morning, Susie took the top bunk. The room was longer than it was wide, and they barely had room to stand between the bed and the wall; every time JimBob was on the top, he ended up careening to the floor after bumping into the wall or tangling a foot in the frame, and had gotten three concussions that way.
The bottom bunk didn’t get much air movement. Their small fan died long ago and never got replaced. The window was directly against the bedframe, and only the top half opened. This made it even more stifling on the bottom bunk than the well-insulated room normally was, and it was usually hot even in the winter. So he slept naked almost year-round, at least from early spring to late fall, and covered the essentials with his sheet (or so he thought; everyone in the house had seen him tangled up, in every possible revealing position that a restless, clumsy, uncomfortable, sleeping boy can manage).
He was lying on his back, covered in sweat, his thin sheet stuck to his belly and thighs, rivulets running down his face into his hair and onto his pillow. They only had one sheet each (Susie’s was the one with the crinkly corners, so she put it on properly and laid atop it), so his already smelly mattress was absorbing more and more sweat. His ass was in a damp patch of crotch-sweat and his shoulders were in a damp patch of armpit-sweat. Yet somehow, he managed to sleep soundly for a good while that night.
JimBob found himself dreaming about that day at the fishin’ hole. He’d never had a dream like this one; he knew it was a dream, but he felt like he was awake and it was all really happening to him, even though he could tell it wasn’t. Something about everything seemed like it was made of different stuff than in real life, he couldn't ever find the words to put his finger on it, but he knew it was not normal reality. His senses were more acute, yet his thinking was even duller than normal, as if he were in a drugged haze.
He didn’t know whether or not he was, actually, because one of Bobby Joe’s favorite tricks had always been to slip JimBob a mickey of some kind or other just to see how he acted. If JimBob wasn’t zealously alert, sooner or later Bobby Joe would manage to get some weird pill or supplement or tablet down his throat without him ever realizing it until Bobby Joe would laughingly announce it. Sometimes when it was just the two of them, they’d mess around a little, jerk each other off or whatever Bobby Joe suggested.
It was always Bobby Joe’s idea. JimBob never realized that until his dream, but as he watched Bobby Joe drop a pill into a can, then watched himself pick up the half-empty beer and chug it, he realized, yup, it was always Bobby Joe’s idea.
And ho-lee-shee-yit he was watching himself and Bobby Joe. This wasn’t right. Did this time he was looking at ever even happen for real, or was it just part of the dream?
No, this time happened. But this time isn’t the time he was here to dream about, neither, so let’s-a get this show on the road already…
Then he saw the fishin’ hole, and there they are, the three of ‘em nekkid and fixin to have a dunk, and Bobby Joe’s a-tryin to get em to do a jerk again, he was always a-tryin to get us in a circle so’s we could swap and grip each other, and Tommy Joe wouldn’t never have none of that, but still Bobby Joe would try, and then he sees Old Pap comin up the path…
And it’s dark around him, like the old bastard is suckin’ the light right out the sky…
Then Bobby Joe’s got JimBob by the neck and
all his weight’s on top of me and then sumbitch he’s a fat heavy mother fucker, I cain’t even breathe, oh sheeyit what the hell is that…
Oh that’s right, he fucked me, that dirty sumbitch, but danged if it didn’t feel right peculiar good after I calmed down a bit…
JimBob
What, come on, finish up already dammit Bobby Joe, my elbone’s right on a gol dang tree root
JIMBOB
I said what, come on, my asshole’s-a gonna be sore if’n you don’t—oh hellfar, ain’t nobody here, ain’t nobody fuckin me none neither, this is some dream shit I reckon
Stop thinking so much, you stupid young man
Well ain’t nobody never told me to stop thankin so much before but I reckon I can try, they’s always tellin me to thank more than I do, or to thank better, or to use my damn head
They don’t know what’s in your head. I do. And I know what you need to do, JimBob
What do I need to do? Who are you anyhow, you ain’t Bobby Joe
No, I’m not. But you need to let what’s about to happen, happen, or else it will end poorly for you and I won’t get to have your wonderful young seed
I don’t even know what the hell you’re talkin about, is this dream bout over?
You can awaken any time you like
Well I reckon I’ll jist be a-doin that then
~~~
JimBob looked groggily around, staring at the underside of the top bunk like usual. “What the hell?” he asked. Something was going on and his sluggish, sleeping brain had no idea what it was.
Then he realized that something was making his cock feel wonderful. So wonderful that he just sighed and closed his eyes again for a few moments, feeling fingers on his shaft and balls, and a delightful, warm, wet, sucking, licking envelope over the end of his shaft and his bulbous, foreskin-wrapped head…
He frowned before he opene
d his eyes. What the hell? he thought, his brain several minutes behind his mouth, as usual. When he looked down, he saw his sheet was missing and a mass of long brown hair was bobbing up and down over his lap. It took him a moment longer to realize it was Susie kneeling between his legs and sucking him off.
“What’n the hayell you doin?” he whispered.
She looked up at him and he realized she was naked too. He had seen her naked plenty, of course, but they had never fooled around this much before—nothing more than a little playing doctor, or watching each other; just curiosity and goofing off, as they saw it. He did like how she looked all bare and sweaty, but she wasn’t playing this time though—she was seriously working on him and jerking him off as she answered.
“We gotta do it so Butterface don’t git ya,” she whispered back. She sat up a bit, still crouching her head so she didn’t rack it on the top bunk, and straddled his thighs, pulling his manhood straight up, holding him in two fingers by his foreskin-covered knob and continuing to stroke all of his remarkable length in her other hand. A bead of sweat rolled from her neck down between her large, firm breasts, over her flat tummy, disappearing into the soft brown fur below. “You jist hold still a sec, I’ll do all the work. I done did it with Charlie Hawkins, I know what I’m doin.”
“No,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Naw, Susie, that ain’t…” and he caught his rising voice, lowering it back to a whisper to finish with, “That ain’t right!”
“Well I can tell you want to,” she said, shaking his erection. It was definitely full and excited. “And I don’t want you endin up no puddinhead like Bobby Joe done just cause you ain’t never got some pussy yet. Besides, it’s fun, you’ll like it. Hell I will too, you got you a real doozy.”
“Susie, c’mon now, let go a my pecker, seriously,” he said. He felt his balls tensing up already, and he knew he had a hair trigger. Seeing her sitting on his thighs, feeling her pubic hair on his balls and feeling her hand holding it, watching her big titties hanging bare and round, he was worried that he was going to embarrass himself right quick.
It wasn’t that he had any moral objection to putting it in his stepsister, they were almost twins—it wasn’t much different than masturbating, in his mind, and surely not in hers either—but what if Maw caught them at it, or Lord forbid she got pregnant? He figured he was dumb enough. The Brown family didn’t need any more dummies, much less inbred sons of dummies; that was something he could never allow. Daddy (well, Susie’s Daddy, but still) had beat pride into him from a young age, and JimBob knew his slow mind was shame enough to the family name. If he and Susie did it and made a lunkhead baby, Daddy would roll over in his grave.
Susie took one hand off him to prop herself up with and leaned over him, lifting her butt off his thighs to aim his erection at her crotch. He started wiggling and hissing, “Stop it Susie!” so she couldn’t get him in.
“Stop jigglin around,” she said seriously. She managed to drag the big head of his penis, momentarily unprotected by foreskin, down between her slick lips, but due to his gyrations it slipped past her entry and ended up lying upright between her ass cheeks. The sensations were too much for him to tolerate, and as always, he lost control long before he expected to. His emission was a massive load of thick, yellowy cream that spurted into the air and landed on his sister’s lower back and splattered all over her bare butt cheeks, ending in a stringy dollop that leaked down his long, healthy cock and onto Susie’s still-gripping fingers.
“I swear JimBob,” she said quietly. She sighed and rolled off him, lying next to him on the inside of his bed toward the wall. She let go of his dick and wiped his spunk off her hand onto his sheet. “Sumbitch it’s hot down here. Hold still, you got a zit on yer shoulder. Now we gotta start all over again.” She put her fingers together and tried squeezing at the pimple, but he twisted his shoulder away.
“Now don’t go sayin that!” he hissed. “You gotta quit this. It ain’t right, what if you get a dunderhead baby?”
“Oh, we ain’t gonna make no baby just doin’ it once or twice,” she whispered.
“Naw, that’s your luck but it ain’t mine.”
“Huh.” They both knew he had a point there. “Well if we’re both a-doin it, I reckon we can go by my luck as well as by yours. Besides, we had different folks, it won’t be no inbreed.”
“Naw. It’s dumb Susie, I cain’t risk it.” He rolled away from her and sat on the edge of his bed, pulling his jeans on.
“I’m the smart one, not you, and I’m older, so jist do as I say. JimBob you get back here,” she whispered, leaning her bare, sweaty chest up against his soaked back and reaching around to grip his half-wilted, sweaty, cum-covered dick in her hand, preventing him from working his jeans over it. “I love you, you’re my only brother! I ain’t a-gonna let Butterface git hold of you just cuz you cain’t get no pussy. I got a pussy, ain’t nobody got to ever know we done it!”
“Susie, no!” he said, starting to grow hard again from how she felt against his skin and from how he felt in her hand and from how much he wanted to do it to her in spite of everything he knew to be right and smart.
The only thing his less-than-stellar mind could figure out to do was to run. Run and hide, run and hide from Susie so he didn’t bang the shit out of her and knock her up with an inbred baby. He loved his family and he didn’t want her to have to live with that, and he especially didn’t want any of his children to be dumb like he was, even if it meant he had to turn into a puddinhead like Bobby Joe.
He yanked himself away from her, which hurt his pecker since she had a good grip on it, and leaped the rest of the way into his jeans. He didn’t even bother with his boots or anything else. For the second time in the same day, he fled from a beautiful woman trying to take his virginity after she had made him have a premature ejaculation. He fled out of his room—out of the front door—out of the Brown farm—out of everything, into the woods, aimlessly moving, with no intention other than to prevent himself from fucking his sister.
“What the hell was that?” Maw Brown screeched from her bedroom when the door slammed behind JimBob.
Susie slumped onto her back in JimBob’s bed and yelled back, “JimBob’s gone off to the huntin’ cabin again Mama, that’s all.”
And his feet, on their own, led him to the same place they always led him when he was aimlessly moving, because JimBob was a simple young man with simple tastes. He ended up, as always, a few hundred feet past the fishin’ hole at the old derelict hunting cabin that his family used to own, his favorite place for solitude.
He went inside, slid the bolt on the door, threw the ratty old blanket off the ancient plaid couch, and laid himself down to finish his sleep.
~~~
The next morning, Janie pulled her dad’s truck into the long parking lot of the store and unknowingly parked in the same spot Tommy Joe had the day before. When she rounded the corner, clutching a water bottle and the list mother had made together in one hand, she was faced with Old Pap, Dumb Luther, Frank Chisholm and Rusty Barnes sunning themselves in the odd assortment of chairs lining the storefront.
“Why, if it ain’t Janie Anderson,” Old Pap said with an enormous smile, revealing his atrocious half-mouth of blackened teeth and stumps. “Ain’t seen you here in a coon’s age. Doin’ some shoppin, are ya?”
“Mmhmm,” she said with a nod, not wanting to be rude but also not wanting to speak. Her throat was still ragged, and she had never liked Old Pap or any of the ancient dawdlers that were always sitting around the store.
“Well now, let me assist ya, Ma’am,” he said with mock courtesy, awkwardly getting to his feet. He stood there in his overalls, bowlegged and grinning at her, waiting for her to proceed. When she didn’t say anything, he said, “I reckon I can carry some thangs as good as anybody, and you know old Junior ain’t never gonna fix them carts.”
“Mmhmm,” she said again, finally deciding he wasn’t going to leav
e her alone and walking into the store.
The little bell rang when Old Pap got his front side right up against her back side and reached past her shoulder to hold the door open. “Cat gotcher tongue, Janie?”
She scooted quickly inside to get him off of her. Janie had told her parents that her throat had gotten hurt when she choked on a tough piece of meat she had overcooked—not entirely a lie. “Hurt my throat,” she rasped. “Choked yesterday.”
“Ah, that’s too bad,” he said. He stayed uncomfortably close behind her as she started walking around, looking for the items on her mother’s list. “Gotta be careful. You know accidents comes in threes, and we done got one already. I mean what with poor Bobby Joe McRae, and all. Be a right shame if’n some bad business happened to such a perty li’l filly like you, too.”
“Mmhmm.”
“What was ya eatin that ya choked on?”
“Overdone some meat,” she said, little above a whisper.
She felt his whiskers on her shoulder and he was suddenly speaking right into her ear. “Well if’n that meat was called Tommy Joe Barnett, ah reckon he’s enjoyed this h’yere,” he said, grabbing a handful of her plump ass cheek and holding it. She whirled around, barely forcing his hand loose.
“You stop that,” she said as sternly as her hoarse throat allowed. “I’m a good Christian.”
“Oh, so you ain’t been messin around with Tommy Joe?” he said with a perverse leer. “Tell me another one! Heh heh. I know how you kids are now’days.” She stepped away and he stepped right back up to her, staring down into her exposed cleavage. He brought a hand up and squeezed one of her breasts through her half-shirt, then sighed as she slapped his hand away. “Y’oughta give me a kiss, I ain’t kissed a perty young thang like you since these hills was mountains.”
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