Valerie led the way across the pasture to the broken fence. The grass was still wet from the morning dew, and it soaked through my leather work boots. There was a nip in the air, and a thin mist hung over the meadow. When we reached the fence, we started work immediately. It was the kind of work I loved, where I could see the result of labors at the end of the day.
We worked all day repairing the fence. I cut long beams into posts and laid them beside the rotted posts that needed replacing. The previous day, one of the staff had dug new holes directly next to the existing post, so all I needed to do was cut the bad one off at its base. Valerie followed behind, planting the new posts and running barbed wire between them.
We broke briefly for lunch, and then continued till almost six. Exhausted, we gathered our tools and began the long walk back to the farmhouse.
We mingled very little with the other staff, aside from meeting with the foreman on Monday mornings to discuss the week's projects. When the staff left at the end of the day, we had the farmhouse to ourselves—an arrangement we both found to our liking.
Valerie and I were at each other's side literally night and day. Her bedroom had become an office when she went off to college, so a twin bed had been set up next to my own in the expansive room I occupied in our converted attic. I didn't really mind—the room spanned the entire attic, so there was plenty of room for both of us. It had a bathroom with a shower, so it was like having little apartment all to ourselves.
A hot supper awaited us, left in the warming oven by our cook Emma just before she quit for the day. We ate our meal, and then Valerie went up to our room in the attic to shower while I used the downstairs bathroom.
After washing up, we met again in the living room and watched TV for a little while. But by nine thirty we were both starting to nod off, so we went up to the attic and crashed, falling asleep almost instantly. Such was a typical day of life on the farm.
***
I was glad my older sister had decided to spend the summer on the farm. She had moved away for college when I was just finishing eighth grade, and I hadn't seen much of her since then. Now that she had graduated, she wanted to spend a final summer at home before venturing off into the real world.
I was nervous around her at first. Four years of college had turned her into a sophisticated young adult, nothing like the gum-smacking girls at my high school.
Mostly, I was intimidated by her beauty. She was the embodiment of my feminine ideal: tall and thin, narrow waist and shapely behind, firm medium-sized breasts, long blonde hair, and a face that distilled the very best features of our parents.
But Valerie seemed every bit as intrigued by me. She openly marveled at the transformation I had undergone since eighth grade, asking my parents what had happened to her skinny little brother, and where did this tall, handsome man come from.
Indeed, I was hardly recognizable from the scrawny fourteen-year-old she left behind when she went off to college. I now stood at 6'2, with a trim, muscular build from my years playing soccer and running track. I knew at some level that I was attractive, but hearing these compliments from Valerie meant so much more than it ever had coming from anyone else.
***
The next day, Valerie and I had to go into town to the feed shop to buy a bag of oats for the horses. Ingrid, the shop owner's daughter, stood behind the counter. Her thick glasses and poor complexion made her somewhat homely, but she had a nice body. Valerie shot me a glance as she caught me staring at the girl's chest.
"What was that all about?" she said as we climbed into the truck.
I acted like I didn't hear her and stared straight ahead with a glassy-eyed expression.
"God, I'm horny," I mumbled, trying to get a rise out of her.
"John!" Valerie laughed. "I think someone needs to get off the farm more often."
I started the engine and pulled out onto the highway. We rode in silence for a ways, but I could sense Valerie looking at me.
"So, got any girlfriends?" she asked.
"Yeah, a couple," I said flatly.
"Oh really?" she smirked.
"Nah," I admitted.
"I thought Mom said you were seeing someone this year?"
"Yeah, sorta fizzled out though," I said.
Valerie was silent for several minutes, but I could hear the gears spinning.
"So when is the last time you, you know...," she began.
"The last time I what?" I said, playing dumb.
"You know—got laid."
I felt my cheeks flush.
"I don't know," I muttered.
"Come on, John. You can tell your big sister!"
"Jeez Val, what makes you think I ever got laid in the first place?"
"Oh please," she scoffed.
I didn't see what was so implausible about my being a virgin. However, my sister was right.
"Four months, I guess."
I turned to look at her. She was staring straight ahead with a self-satisfied smile on her face.
"What?" I said.
"Nothing," she answered innocently, "It's just that I can see why you would be horny is all."
"Valerie!"
"What?" she said.
I couldn't help laughing at her ingenuous tone.
"Anyway," I said, "It's not gonna happen this summer, that's for sure. Guess I'll just have to wait till college."
She sighed in agreement. It seemed that my older sister was just as preoccupied with sex as I was. Before I knew it, we were casually discussing our prospects for getting laid, just as I might with a buddy in the locker room.
***
The subject of sexuality began to manifest itself frequently in our interaction. On the surface, we bonded in our sexual frustration, and our isolation from the outside world that dimmed our prospects of finding a partner.
Privately, guiltily, I fixated on my older sister. If my nervousness around her had eased, I was no less in awe of her. I wanted nothing more than to gain her affection, and also to show her that I was a man.
Pride crept into my consciousness. I paid close attention to my cleanliness and grooming, making sure to remain clean-shaven. And I often worked without a shirt, hoping to impress Valerie with my muscular body.
Sometimes I was startled by my boldness. One afternoon, I had to fix the wiring on a light fixture in the barn. Valerie held the step ladder and stared up at me as I worked. I felt her gaze on my bare chest and stomach, and I started getting turned on. But when my cock began tenting my shorts, I made no effort to conceal it.
Valerie's outfits became more revealing also, though it would not have occurred to me at the time that it was for my benefit. One day, we had to change the oil in the pick-up truck. Valerie wanted to learn how to do it herself, so I sat at her feet while she slid under the engine on a roller board and gave her instructions. She was wearing a tight-fitting pair of cutoffs, and a white midriff tank-top. Her nipples jiggled visibly beneath the thin material, making it clear she wasn't wearing a bra.
She eased back on the roller board and gradually pushed her way under the truck until only her stomach and legs were visible.
"Which one is the oil filter?"
