Hello to you deliciously devious souls!
This story is meant to take place around 1918-1920 in any burgeoning American farming town. It may not be historically accurate but I do hope the tale of two siblings finding true love will help you see past my flaws.
If you do not like incestuous pregnancy, this story will not be for you. In that case, I encourage you to read Ruby's story or stay tuned for more from me.
HENRY:
The morning sunlight poured into the east facing window of the upper level bedroom, warming the bare skin of my back. I gripped my swollen cock as I knelt in the center of my large four-poster bed, the once crisp white linens in a messy pile behind me.
I nudged my engorged head into the slick pussy spread open before, my excitement no less than the countless times I had entered my lover before. As her walls coaxed me in, I brought my hands to her narrow hips and buried myself within her.
When my tip hit the end of her warm depth, I paused and drank in the sight of her. Thin, pale legs spread wide for me, bee-stung bottom lip dripping with anticipation. Small, supple breasts lifting and lowering with every steady breath. Her once flat abdomen now bulging with the slightest swell of her fertilized womb.
I ran my hand over her doughy stomach and groaned at the feel of her smooth flesh expanding as my child grew inside her. My cock lurched with elation, eager to claim her once more.
I brought my gaze to her eyes; golden amber and still smoldering with lust for me. Only me. My hands held onto her narrow waist as I penetrated her, pulling her cunt back to meet my hungry cock.
As her pussy quivered and gripped me tightly, I thought back on the first time I claimed her. How perfect she felt; how right. All the feelings I had of being an outcast, shunned by our community, washed away as I came inside her.
I will never tire of her. My beloved sister. My home.
***
As with every son before me, I went to a posh Catholic boarding school in the city from the age of 14, only visiting our secluded farmhouse on holidays. My widowed mother, Adelaide, was left alone with my younger sister, Clara. Aside from a couple hired hands to tend to the expansive property and old, crumbling house, they lived a quiet, reclusive life.
My life in the city had been lonely and burdensome; the feeling that I didn't quite belong followed me everywhere. I tried to court women, even bedding a few, but they never gave me the peace I desperately sought.
Clara and I had been raised by our mother, who had been shunned by our remote farm community when she fell in love with her uncle, my father. Despite our exile, we had a happy childhood, fulfilled by the love our parents never ceased to show us. When my father died, I was 12 and my sister 10. We were both inconsolable for a time, as was my mother. Clara and I, likely due to our young age, were able to move on with our lives, but my mother was not.
Prior to his death, she would take us to town to shop or just walk among the many popular parks, holding her head high despite the whispers around us. After his death, she barely left her room.
My father had left us his handsome estate which my mother used to keep the farm up and running. She hired a young man to tend it, and he did a fine job at keeping our profits up. Every week, he would reap what he could and sell it in a neighboring town, never disclosing where the crop had come from. He understood how people viewed us and was always careful to protect us.
After I graduated, I had contemplated moving home to help grow the farm, but I was leary. Being in the city offered me an anonymity that home could not. I could be anyone here, not the bastard son of a misunderstood, incestuous relationship.
I took a job at a newly formed credit union and tried to become the man I thought my father would have wanted me to be. I dedicated myself to my work, learning all I could about the quickly growing business. I met a devout young girl and courted her properly. I thought we would marry and raise our kids in the city, but the more she clung to that dream, the more I pulled away.
One day, after 2 years at my job, I woke to the sound of the streetcars honking outside my rented home and knew that this life was over. I needed to feel the earth in my hands again. I needed to be home where I could care for my despondent mother and young sister.
I arrived home without warning on a warm spring day in my brand new Ford Model TT truck, purchased with every cent that I had saved with the intention of buying a home to start a family. Now that I no longer held that dream, I figured my family's farm was worth the investment.
My mother was elated to see me and she bounded out of the house and into my arms. I had not seen her outside the house in many years, let alone with genuine joy lighting up her face. I held her close to me and knew deep in my heart that I had made the right decision.
"Where is Clara?" I asked as I followed my mother up the stairs into the large house, which looked even more decrepit than the last time I saw it almost 3 years ago.
"Probably in the barn. As much as I tell her to leave it to James, she won't leave the cows alone. She dotes on them way too much if you ask me."
My sister had always been an animal lover and I suspect she was the reason my father turned this farm into solely crop, having sold off all of our pigs and chickens when she was just a toddler. We had kept cows only for our own nourishment now, and she doted on them like they were family pets.
As expected, I found her in the barn with her arms around Queen Bee's neck. I was struck immediately by how much she had grown since the last Christmas I visited when she was barely 16.
Her dark brown hair was longer now, hanging in loose waves to just past her shoulders. As a child, she had insisted on keeping it short, and it was always unruly and sticking out around her angelic face.
I leaned against the barn door, watching her as she whispered sweetly to the black and white heifer she had named Queen Bee when she was just a girl. She wore one of my mother's old black dresses, tattered around the hem and sleeve. The worn fabric was dotted with little yellow flowers and hung loosely on her petite frame. She had it cinched around her narrow waist with my fathers old leather belt. On her feet were her same old beat up farm boots that she had as a young teen.
She startled when she caught sight of me in the open door but quickly recognized my form. Her face lit up and she bounded towards me, kicking up the dirt floor as she ran into my open arms.
"Henry!" she squealed as I wrapped my arms around her waist and picked her up. Her skinny legs wrapped tightly around my torso, her arms around my neck. She buried her face in the crook of my shoulder.
"Hello my little Clara bell.....I missed you so much." I spun her around, holding her close, not wanting to ever let her go.
"I missed you so much, Henry. I never thought I would see you again." Her quiet voice was laced with sorrow, and I felt the warmth of her tears on my neck.
To my surprise, blood rushed to my dick and I felt it swell against my trousers. I lifted her higher so she would not feel it press against her.
"Shhh, Clara. There is no need to be sad. I am here with you forever now."
I felt her grip on my neck loosen and she leaned back, bringing those tear filled, honey colored eyes to mine. "Forever?" she whispered.
I brought one hand to her flushed cheek and wiped away a tear. "Forever."
***
I brought in my bags and settled into my parents old room at the top of the stairs. My mother had long since moved into the room on the lower level, preferring to not sleep in the same bed she had shared with my father, her one and only love.
Clara had helped me strip the dusty linens and as she took them to the creek for laundering, I remade the large bed with mismatched sheets I had found in the closet.
