All names and characters contained herein are fictitious and do not intentionally relate to any person, either living or dead. This story is a work of fiction, a fantasy -- so read it with a grain of salt and an open mind. All characters are at least 18 years of age. Voting and feedback is greatly appreciated, especially positive feedback and frequent "fives".
Dear Direy,
Well, we finally turned eighteen last week. Maw baked us sweetrolls drizzled in hunny to celebrate. Bubba ate his and licked his fingers clean, then tried to lick mine clean also. It made my tummy feel all darn fluttery when he did it, too. Lately that's been happenin lots more often. I saw Bubba swimmin at the swimmin hole nekkid a few months ago when it was plumb scorchin' outside, and I got a good long look at his thingie. After he done swum, he got out and stood by the riverbank and stroked it real fast with one hand. In a few minutes he started to breath real heavylike and then some white stuff shot out all over the ground. When he left I went and found a clump of it on a leaf. It smelled kinda funny, but made my cunny feel real ticklish. I couldn't help myself. I done tasted it! It was still warm, and tasted kinda yummy. I hope he does it again soon.
Dear Direy,
Bubba is all growed up now. He's real tall fer his age with real strong, broad shoulders from all that wood choppin. His blonde hair is getting long, and he ties it back from his tan face with a leather thong, kinda like the injuns do. I seen him looking at me funny right often now, too. I wonder if he wants to rut me? I look at myself in the pond reflection all the time. My hair is long and straight and "corn-yeller" as Maw calls it—I keep it braided into two thick braids like an injun princess. My titties are getting nice and big and perky, and my nipples are always sharp and pointy and real sensitive. My legs are long and thin, but I think my best feature is my toned, muscled bewtocks. The other day Bubba smacked it as he walked by out of sight from Maw, and he said "wow, your ass is as hard as frozen iron, Sissy!" It made me giggle.
Dear Direy,
Maw has us cleanin the cabin real good for Paw's return. I swept out the front room and kitchen and cleaned up the loft where Bubba and I sleep. Bubba was supposed to be outside choppin wood for the winter. Maw was right angry when she went outside to tell him to milk the cow and found him asleep in the chicken coop. Bubba's gonna get it good when Paw comes home!
Dear Direy,
Maw's real mad at me now, too. I done broke one of her best crockpots. I was washing it down by the crick and saw Bubba stroking his thingie again. When I lent around to git a better view, the pot slipped out of my hands and fell and broke to pieces on a big rock.
Maw got red in the face and tole me Paw was gonna skin my hide when he got home. For some reason the thought of Paw takin a belt to my backside makes me feel all tingly inside. Kinda like when I watch Bubba. I hope Paw takes a switch to my ass – I been noticing him giving me funny looks lately, and Maw been acting strange around me too.
Dear Direy,
Paw is coming home tonight. Maw said Bubba and I should git ready, that since we're now eighteen Paw will treat us right diff'rently. I had no idea what she meant...
Snow was falling lightly, blanketing the world in a soft, white shroud. Inside, lit by flickering firelight and candles, the cabin was warm almost to the point of being uncomfortable. Maw was in her rocking chair knitting Paw a new cap. Bubba and I were upstairs in the loft in our beds, trying to sleep. With my nightclothes on it was almost stifling up there, and perspiration was dripping down my spine. Bubba was sprawled out spread eagled with the blanket balled up at his feet. His sleepin trousers were stained with sweat.
"Sissy, I'm hot up here. Should we ask Maw to let the fire burn out?"
"Nuh uh, Bubba. She's mad enough at us as it is. I ain't sayin a thing."
From down the ladder we heard Maw stirring, then she said out loud, "You kids better get to sleep soon, Paw's gonna be mad enough about how you two bin behavin lately."
Bubba and I quieted down and tried to sleep, but nothing helped, not even countin sheep.
From outside on the front porch we heard a loud thump, then the door burst open. Cold wind and snow swirled in and Paw's huge imposing figure filled the gap. Over one shoulder was a dead buck with a bullet hole trickling blood from the side of its neck.
Paw dropped the deer to the floor, set his musket down next to the door and swept Maw up in a great big bear hug. I heard the wet, sloppy sound of kissing, then Paw picked Maw up and carried her into their bedroom.
Straining with my ears, I could hear the muffled sounds of their talking, then the bedroom door opened with a bang and Paw strode into the main room.
"GIT DOWN HERE NOW!"
Bubba and I scrambled down the ladder to face our doom. Even just wearing his union jack suit Paw was a frightening sight. Standing well over six and a half feet, he was as wide as an axe handle. His huge calloused hands were clenching and unclenching into hamhock sized fists. His beard was long and matted and his eyes burned with a half feral glow in the dim firelight.
He spoke in barely a whisper.
"Maw tells me you two bin goofin off while I bin out huntin us up some winter meat."
"Yes, Paw," we both wailed in unison.
"Yer both eighteen, and as adults I can do with you what I want now. If'n you don't mind me, I can throw you out fer the injuns to scalp."
Maw's eyes gleamed and a malicious smile flickered at the corner of her mouth at this announcement.
