For Love Of Nature - Kelly's Story

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Chapter Three

I told the others that Uncle Bob was upset, and making noises. We thought it a good idea to take our lunch and go outside, to leave him alone. We stood or sat as we ate sandwiches and fruit. Johnny said he had to pee and, being a boy, headed off into the underbrush away from the house. He was back, his eyes wide and a look of consternation on his face.

"Come here!" he whispered loudly. "You have to see this!"

He shushed us as we trooped along behind him, making motions with his hands to slow down, or move this way and that, obviously trying to keep us all silent. It was mystery where he was taking us. Then we heard the moans. There was a hammock in front of us, and a screen of shrubs behind it. We all knew there was another hammock on the other side of those shrubs. That's where the moaning was coming from.

"Ahhhh Rod, you're a fine, stout fellow, you are," came the voice of Aunt Prudence.

"Ohhh Prudence, my sweet, we shouldn't be doing this," came my father's voice.

"She's been gone for months now Bonny Rodney. She'd want you to be happy, I know it."

"You feel so goood," moaned my father.

"You're right about that Laddie, you're making me feel just wonderful," she moaned back.

By ones and twos we crept up to the screen of bushes and pulled this way, or pushed that way to peer through the greenery. What we saw was Aunt Prudence, stark naked, her buttocks perched in the hammock as if she had just sat down and was about to swing her legs up and lie down. Her hands were placed on my father's shoulders. He was equally naked, and was standing between her thighs, pushing and shoving against her in much the same way Johnny had pushed and shoved against me. Except, of course, there was nothing between them. There was a wet squishy sound that went with his rhythmic thrusting. Her legs were splayed to the sides, her heels resting lightly on the ground. The hammock moved in time with his thrusts, almost like a rocking chair. It was obvious to us all they were making love.

"I'm so glad you hurt your hands," she moaned. "I'd never have gotten you alone otherwise."

"You wanted this before yesterday?" grunted my father, shoving into her hard.

"From the very moment you came into my sight," she said, wiggling her hips against his thrusts. "It was a case of love at first sight for me," she sighed. "I was always jealous of my sister."

"I never thought this would happen when I came here," he moaned. "I never thought this would ever happen again."

"You're a fine, strong man, Rodney, with many a strong baby left in you to give to some lucky woman. Your life need not be over simply because of tragedy and loss."

"I never thought I'd meet another woman who wanted to have my children," he grunted. He was thrusting more actively into her now.

"You have, my darling, you already have," she cooed. "Her hopes are being met this very instant, perhaps."

"You?" he gasped. "I thought yesterday, when you said nothing, that you were protected."

"I need no protection from you, my bonny lad," she crooned. "Let your seed flow, and let it take in my womb, and let us have the first of many children together Rodney MacDowell."

There was a frenzy of thrusting and grunting and groaning and I suddenly realized that that thick white stuff that Seamus had put on my stomach and hip, was now shooting up inside Aunt Prudence's pussy ... into her womb ... where a little brother or sister for Brad and me might be made ... perhaps was being made at that very second. I know now that it was the emotion of seeing something for the first time, and because of the lingering lust in my own loins from our earlier play, but what I felt just then was ... empty. Not empty in an emotional sense ... but empty between my ribs and my pelvis, a place that, in Aunt Prudence's situation, was full of warm gooey semen.

But my womb was empty, and knowing that my daddy's sperm was inside Aunt Prudence's womb made me wish mine wasn't empty.

That was a turning point in my life, as I look back on it. I had played, and explored, and had a lot of fun experiencing new and exciting things. But it had suddenly been impressed on me how solemn and serious this game of sex was ... or could be. There I was, all a-flutter in a foreign land, in a new temporary home, being paid all kinds of sexy attention by handsome young men and an older man too, when you think of the vicarious nature of Uncle Bob's interest in me sexually. I was all of sixteen years old, which is plenty old enough for my body and emotions to want to do adult things, while my experience level wasn't at all prepared for those urges. It was a little like coming out of a dream. I had seen lots of pregnant women in my life, and women with new-born babies, and toddlers and all that. But I hadn't paid a whit of attention to them as anything that had any connection to me. Now, my body yearned to do the things that made babies, and my mind, not ready to contemplate the full responsibilities involved in that process, glommed onto the idea with an innocence that today, just leaves me speechless.

But the fact was, as I backed away from that hedge, where my father was doing his best to make a baby in Aunt Prudence's womb, I wanted somebody to make a baby in my womb too. The worst part of it was, that at that point, I didn't have a clear picture in my mind of just who it was I wanted to make a baby in me.

I know I make it sound like I just up and decided to get knocked up. It wasn't like that at all, though. It was more of a whisper in my mind, way back in the back, echoing from where it originated in my uterus. It bounced around in my body until it seeped quietly into my brain, where it set up a little campaign, urging me to let myself go, and become acquainted with the full experience of sexual intercourse. Earlier that very day the idea of having a penis inside me had been shocking and scary. But as the day passed, it got less and less scary, and more and more attractive to me.

To be sure, Uncle Bob had been shaken by our willingness to go beyond his wildest dreams of taking naughty pictures. That was evident in that for almost a week after that day he took no pictures at all. He threw himself into fixing things around the cottage, and working in the garden. He did work up a package of pictures to send to the Nature Conservancy, and they emailed him back their excitement and gratitude for them. He put some money in bank accounts for all us kids from that sale.

Sally and I became addicted to masturbation in bed at night. I imagine the boys did too, though I never asked them about it. The strange thing was that they never approached us to play during that week. It was as if the picture taking episodes had given us permission to breach the barriers that had been in place when I first arrived in Scotland, and that, unless Uncle Bob and his camera were there, we didn't have permission to explore and play like we had. I think it was that - the lack of fulfillment with a man - and the fact that Daddy and Aunt Prudence couldn't keep their hands off each other whenever they were together, and often stole off to be alone together, that caused that little whisper to seep into my mind to the point that I would no longer have stopped any of the boys from mounting me. And yet, none tried.

It was a very confusing and anxious and emotionally tumultuous week, I can say that.

Sally and I talked about it, but only a little. We talked about what we had especially liked, and which boy kissed better, or stroked us in the ways we liked best, but we didn't talk about where things might go from there. And it's not like that's all we talked about. It was only a month and a half before school started. The education system in Scotland is kind of mixed up. What is called "high school" in the States may be called one of seven or eight things in Scotland, depending on where it is and who runs it. In our case, it was just called "School". It would be the twins' last year there, before moving on to university. Sally and Brad were required to do one more year, but could then opt for vocational school if that's what they wanted to do. I, being the youngest, would have to complete two more years before I had the same choice.

Instead of a bus there was a motor launch that came around to the islands and collected kids to take them to one of the larger islands, where the school was located. There were some thirty of us, now that Brad and I were there, and Dad's inability to find either a job that was appropriate to his experience, or a house on the mainland we could afford to rent meant that I might be starting school riding in that motor launch. Not that I cared. The island had also seeped into my brain as a magical place, where wonderful things happened, and I was happy.

The boys took us with them and I learned to fish. There was some flirting - boys can't help but flirt - but no hanky panky other than a short sweet kiss or two. It was hard work to work the nets and they often came up empty. They were still heavy to drag back to the shore, or into the boat, if that's where we were fishing from. I suppose that's what eventually tipped things out of the balance they had gotten into. That and the Nature Conservancy's request for more photographs. One of the photographs he had sent them had the neatly piled net in it, and they sent a request for a set of pictures of "those delightful young people" fishing.

So ... we went fishing. And Uncle Bob was there ... and he had his camera ... so ...

I think it would have been all right, except that one of the places Uncle Bob thought would make a beautiful picture was the place where the waterfall from the grotto emptied into the sea. When it came out of the crack between the rocks, it fell into a swampy area that was deep with mud, and grew vibrant thickly packed reeds. As the water trickled through those reeds to the gravel on the shore, it spread out and more or less seeped into the sea in many little rivulets across the gravel. There was a tiny bay there, and with the boat out in the water, the scene was of all the reeds, with towering rock behind that. If we stood in the water at the edge of the shore to cast the nets, it was, in fact, a beautiful picture.

But the shelter of the rocks, and the way the tide came in, meant that no waves crashed on that beach unless there was a storm. So the mud was awful! We sank into it to our knees, losing shoes and getting filthy. Uncle Bob got the pictures, but we were such a mess that we couldn't get back on the boat without cleaning up. We walked further up the beach, out of the shelter of the rocks, to where the surf rolled ashore and swept the gravel clean. And there, it just seemed normal to strip off our clothes and wash them out.

The boys, of course, offered to help wash the mud from our bodies. A week of abstinence, so to speak, made them work very hard to get each and every speck of soil off of Sally and me. It wasn't a hurried or frenzy-filled play that took place. Rather, as Uncle Bob moved the boat to follow us, and then stood on the deck with his camera, we gathered into a knot of young flesh, reaching and rubbing at whatever skin could be seen next to us, sort of a group hug, if you will.

Johnny was in front of me, and he was hard as steel as he stood in water that came right up to, but did not cover his manhood. Sally's back was to my right shoulder, and both Seamus and Brad were flanking her, with Brad almost behind her and me at the same time.

I stepped toward Johnny for a wet, slippery kiss, and molded my body to his. His prick, bobbing in the water, pressed against my belly. With one hand I reached down and pushed it between my legs, where it stuck between them, feeling warm in the cool water. He looked at me wide-eyed and I kissed him, rubbing my front against his.

I felt someone behind me, and turned my head to see it was Brad. He pressed up against me and kissed the back of my neck. His prick poked me in the butt, and I reached back to grasp it. It didn't matter that he was my brother at that point in time. I liked him and I wanted him to feel good. He groaned into my neck and I stroked him. Next to me Sally was kissing Seamus, and they were as tightly plastered against each other as Johnny and I were, though I don't know if his penis was against her sex.

A wave came, and lifted us all. I wrapped my legs around Johnny's back and held on. His prick nudged my pussy lips and then we were standing on gravel again. I kept kissing him, wiggling my hips. The tip of his prick had slid back and was tickling my rectum which, to my surprise, felt tingly good.

Then there was another wave, and we rose a foot and fell again, and this time Johnny's penis was right between my fat pussy lips, and when the water dropped us and his feet hit the gravel, I was impaled on his rampant rod.

Just like that ... in an instant ... I went from horny and empty, to horny and full. It stretched me, that's for sure, and there was some pain and discomfort, that's something I remember too, but it was done. My virginity was history, and I was full of hard cock for the first time in my life.

It shocked Johnny even more than it shocked me. It shocked him so much that he bent his knees and removed himself from me. There was at once the relief from stretching and pain, but at the same time that emptiness came back with a vengeance.

"Oooooo," I complained.

"I didn't mean it," he said in a pleading voice. I think it was then that he realized I was still holding on to him tightly, and wasn't screaming.

That didn't mean I was happy. I wasn't.

"Johnneeee," I moaned, rubbing my pussy against him.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

I couldn't tell him what I really wanted. It was too new and I was, as odd as it might sound, too shy.

So I kissed him for an answer.

It would be romantic to say that we stayed there, and that Johnny fucked me good and proper, but that's not what happened. I'll stick to the facts. They are, as things turned out, pretty exciting anyway.

Johnny returned my kiss with no little passion. Johnny was a gentleman and the fact that I wasn't actively engaged in trying to get him back in me spoke to him. It wasn't what I wished I could say to him, but it's all he had to work with. He broke the kiss and pulled back to let me stand on my own, lest another wave cause another accident. We turned to find Brad, his arms around Sally from behind her, and Seamus still kissing her from the front. Both boys were moving in the water. They were humping her front and back. She told me that night that as Seamus moved forward, scraping his prick along her sensitive clitty, Brad moved back, and then they reversed the motions, with Brad's cock sliding across her rectum, making it tingle like mine had.

Seamus gave out a groan, and said "Oh yeah, oh yeah ... Oh yeah!" He had cum with his prick stroking between his sister's legs. Brad wasn't so lucky. He had to back off and finish himself with his hand, but Sally turned around and kissed him while he did it.

I think that bathing session was what broke the camel's back, both for us kids, and for Uncle Bob. Up on the boat, he could tell what we were doing to each other, even if he couldn't see it clearly. I think it pushed him over the edge.

We swam to the boat and threw our wet clothes up on deck, and climbed up onto the deck naked. Johnny was still hard as stone, while the other two had limp and shrunken organs. During that short swim I had decided that the stretching wasn't so bad, and the emptiness was awful. I also recognized Johnny's sensitivity to my needs (even if he misinterpreted them) as something precious. By the time I got to the boat I was ragingly horny again and shy no longer. Once on deck I simply pulled Johnny down to the deck on top of me. I wanted to cum and I didn't want to be empty when I got there. He started sliding his prick between my lips, hitting the lower edges with his balls. I wanted more. I spread my legs and reached, pushing him to let my hand get between us. I grasped him and aimed him. He knew what I was doing. I could tell because he halted his movement, looking into my eyes.

"Please," I begged.

When he slid forward, and that lovely stiff meat thrust up inside me, I wanted to scream, but I didn't. My mind knew that if I did, he'd stop, and that was the last thing I wanted him to do. The intended scream wasn't one of pain, or unhappiness, it was one of release. I felt filled. I felt complete. I felt like my whole life had prepared me for this very second, when a man's penis would stretch me and try to reach as far inside me as possible.

He did that. He slid in as far as he could, and with a long groan he kept trying to push, so hard that my butt scraped across the deck. I heard a babble of voices as the others realized what we were doing, but I shut those voices out. All I could feel was his hard chest crushing my sensitive breasts, and that beautiful hard prick reaching deep inside me.

He wasn't prepared for this. I felt the issue of warmth and wetness that I knew was his ejaculation, way up inside me, and his cry of almost distress as his balls unburdened themselves. His instinct was to press hard, and he wiggled as his prick spat over and over again, and that is what crushed my clitty so that I was able to cum too. My wail could not be contained then, as my back arched, and my heels slammed into the deck, trying to help my pussy climb even further onto his spurting manhood.

"Don't cum in her!" The shout penetrated my lust-fogged brain as Uncle Bob tried to pull us apart. But, like two dogs who cannot be separated, we clung to each other as he emptied his seed into my belly.

The whole episode, from my butt hitting the deck, to Johnny's virile seed soaking my womb, took no more than perhaps a minute.

Johnny collapsed on top of me with a long drawn out sigh of contentment. You must be a woman to understand how that sounds ... the sigh of contentment that means a man has never been happier ... and that you have made him that way.

Uncle Bob's blubbering was what broke us apart. He was sitting on the deck, his camera forgotten beside him, his hands in his face, sobbing his eyes out.

"What have I done?" he moaned.

I looked up to see Sally, breathing like she'd run a couple of miles, her chest heaving, her eyes wild, her still-wet hair plastered to her head. Something saucy inside me made me wink at her. Here I was, the younger of the two, the meek little cousin from America, who had become a woman before she had.

She went to her father, got down on her knees and murmured to him, stroking his head and shoulders, telling him it was all right, that nothing bad had happened, that I was happy.

"Tell him!" she said, her head turned to me.

I did. I told him it wasn't his fault (though I suspect it was in the end), and that I wasn't hurt, and that I felt wonderful. He looked around blearily, sniffling. Sally pulled him up and led him to the cabin and down the steps, telling him he needed a cup of tea. It looked so strange to see Sally, stark naked, and her father, still dressed like a sailor, disappearing down those dark steps.

Brad came over to me and knelt. His prick jutted at me, hard as stone, but there was concern in his eyes.

"Are you okay, baby?" he asked.

Something in me snapped. What Johnny had done to me felt so right and so wonderful that I reached up and kissed Brad. And then I pulled him down on top of me and the next thing I knew I had his long hard prick up inside me and he was rutting and thrusting and again I felt the long warm spurts of what makes a man a man filling my belly.

Seamus was standing over us, half astonished and half hopeful when Brad rolled off of me. I held up my arms to Seamus too and he came willingly. He was wild, pummeling me and I had two orgasms with him before he added his spunk to that of the others. There was a puddle on the deck when we finally rolled apart and I sat up.

The three boys sat, staring unbelievingly at me. All I could feel was the sense of fulfillment. I was a mess, though, and I got up and leapt overboard, diving cleanly into the water, where I swam for a few minutes before climbing back on board. The boys were still sitting there, now looking uncomfortable, not talking, staring at the puddle of their mixed semen on the deck. I wanted to laugh, but I knew that wouldn't be well received. Instead I went to each one and gave him a short, warm, soft lipped kiss on the lips.

I stood up, looking around and felt the pain of muscles too much used in my belly. I stretched, but didn't feel like getting dressed in wet clothes. The sun felt wonderful on my body and I felt more free than I ever had in my life. I went to the cabin to see how Uncle Bob was.

Going from sunlight into the dark of the galley, even with its portholes, made me stop so I wouldn't trip over anything. The galley was empty, though there was tea on the stove. It started whistling and I walked over to move the pot. Hearing noises from the stern, where the bunks were, I moved that way.

Sally was comforting her father. His crying had turned to moans ... long, heartfelt moans.

"I miss her too Daddy," came Sally's voice, which sounded tense somehow. "We all miss her Daddy." She made another sound, a whimper of sorts, and I pushed through the curtain that gave the bedroom some privacy. My eyes had adjusted and there were more portholes in that part of the cabin, so the sight I saw was clear as could be.

Uncle Bob was on his back, lying on a bunk. His pants were undone and his manly prick was outside of them. I couldn't see his prick, though, because it was sheathed in Sally's pussy. Then I could see it, as she raised her butt up off of him, her young thighs flexing to take her weight. His penis glistened with her oils before she sank back down on him.

"Mommy won't care that we're doing this," cooed Sally. "She knows you need this from someone ... that you've gone without for so long."

He groaned, a tortured groan, as she rose and fell twice more.

"Johnny didn't hurt Kelly," she said, leaning down to kiss her father's lips while she sat and rocked. "Uhhh" she groaned. I knew what she was feeling. she was feeling the thick prod that was stretching her and pushing into places that had never been stretched. "You're not hurting me Daddy," she said, not sounding completely confident. "I know you need this, and I want to do it for you."

She rose and fell four or five times and Uncle Bob began to move and jerk and thrash.

"Nooooo ... we caaan't," he said, his hips going wild.

"Yes we can," she moaned back.

"I can't ... I'm gonna ... Noooo ... I'm gonna ...." he babbled until she shut him up with a kiss.

I'll never forget seeing her rise up off of him, and this time his prick was coated with streaks of white. As she let herself back down, those streaks collected into a ring of stark white, with the background of her dark luxurious bush, it almost shone in the dim light. I knew she was feeling that unimaginable warm feeling of a man's spend spurting inside her. She sat hard and wiggled, lifting her head and throwing it back as if she were looking at the ceiling, which was only inches from her eyes. She whimpered and shook and then went rigid, except for her hips, which almost vibrated forward and back again as she came.

It got quiet in the room, only their labored breathing filling that silence.

Until she dropped her head again, and said, "Thank you Daddy. I needed that too."

I must have made a noise, because Sally looked over at me. I guess she knew, somehow, that I wouldn't scream at her or anything. Uncle Bob wasn't quite as calm about me being there. He covered his face and moaned.

I went over and touched his shoulder. His naked daughter was still sitting on top of him. I didn't know if he was still hard, or had shrunk down like the boys did when they squirted, but I didn't care.

There wasn't anything I could say, really. And I didn't know what to say anyway. So I just pried one of his hands away from his face and kissed the back of it. Sally copied my actions with the other hand as he stared up at us, his eyes full of tears.

"Will you be all right?" asked Sally.

He sniffed twice and then jerked his head in a nod. She leaned over to kiss him one more time and then got off of him like she was getting off of a horse, swinging her inside leg up and out. We left the cabin and stopped in the galley, just staring at each other. Then we hugged, breast to breast for a few seconds before turning to go back up on deck.

The boys were huddled together. They looked ridiculous because they'd put on their underwear, but that was all thus far. They stared at us as we came on deck. I'd like to think that we looked like Greek goddesses, stepping out naked into the sunlight, but I kind of doubt it. Our hair was still wet and hadn't been combed, so we probably looked a mess. We were both walking a little funny, and there was semen dripping down Sally's thighs that nobody looking at her could possibly miss. The boys said nothing. I think they were just as shocked by what had happened as we were.

I spied Uncle Bob's camera, lying on the deck where he had dropped it. I went over to pick it up and turned to Sally. I pointed to a device that stuck up from the deck and was used to wrap ropes around when sailing or tying up the boat. It was beside one of the railings, and I had her sit on it, leaning back, with her arms outstretched on the railing on each side of her. I pushed her hair back and then kicked her feet apart until she got the idea. Her eyes widened as she realized what I was going to do, and she got very pink from the tops of her breasts clear up to her forehead, but she did it.

I knelt in front of her. Her dark bush was a stark contrast to the mess of thick white goo that was filling her open pussy mouth and running down her thighs.

I took four or five pictures.

The boat ride back to the dock was silent, for the most part. Uncle Bob finally came out from below and started the motor. We were all dressed by then, our bodies having dried in the sun. We had brought clean clothes to change into after the fishing shoot. When we got to the dock, everyone did what was necessary to dock the boat, also with little fanfare. The boys went onto the dock first, jumping, and waited for us girls, to catch us if we wobbled. They went on toward the pathway. Sally and I waited for Uncle Bob.

He did things that a boat owner does when he's putting a boat to bed, so to speak, and then jumped down on the dock between us.

"I ...." he started.

"I love you Daddy," said Sally very seriously. She hugged him and kissed him.

"I love you too Uncle Bob," I chimed in, giving him the same treatment. He felt whiskery and strange against my lips.

"And everything is really all right?" he asked, his voice unbelieving.

"I feel great," said Sally.

At that moment I had a very precise and very strong feeling that everything really was all right, and that it would continue to be all right ... no, not just all right ...

"Well," I said. "I don't feel great." I saw the beginnings of sadness and shock on his face. "I feel positively wonderful'!" I yelled.

I started dancing around like a crazy person, whooping and yelling about how fabulous I felt, and how unbelievably happy I was, and how nothing could be better, until I got a smile from him, and then a grin and he relaxed.

We tugged him up the path, chattering now.

"You know, Daddy, don't you, that Aunt Prudence and Uncle Rod are fucking like bunnies," said Sally.

He stopped dead in the middle of the path.

"No!" he gasped.

"Yes they are!" she said firmly. "Loan me your camera and I'll prove it to you! We kids caught them at it in a hammock the other day. She wants him to make a baby in her. But they don't know we saw them, and they'll sneak off tonight to do it some more. How would you like to see a picture of that!?"

"I suspect I'm enough of a pervert for loving me own wee daughter," said Bob wonderingly. "I don't imagine I need to add seeing me own sweet sister-in-law getting her ashes hauled."

"It was hot!" said Sally. "It made me want to do it too."

"Me too!" I squealed. "Ever since then that's all I could think about!"

"It's all I've been able to think about since I saw that first picture of my bonny sweet niece," admitted Uncle Bob.

I kissed him. "Not now ... but maybe later." I winked at him and darted away as he tried to swat my behind. He chased us, laughing, up the path.

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