by Sir_Erotica 03/02/08
It's not surprising that I grew up a tomboy. My mother died from complications while giving birth to my younger brother, leaving me the only female in the family. Still, my father did a wonderful job of raising the four of us—my two older brothers, my younger brother and me.
Of course, growing up on a ranch didn't help in that regard either. It took all of us to work the place, especially after our father's legs were crushed beneath his falling horse. I was seven at the time. I had to learn to cook at an early age.
Our father was a very Christian man, and we rarely missed church on Sunday. He raised us to be respectful, and how to conduct ourselves in ways that would bring honor to him and our family. When off of our ranch, we all made sure to do just that. On the ranch however, and when out from under his watchful eye, we were just normal kids.
When we would camp out, which we did a lot, we would take beer and sometimes pot, and have our private family parties. We would get drunk and high enough to puke, smoke cigarettes, curse, shoot things we weren't supposed to, and skinny dip at every opportunity. We'd done that all of our lives, so we didn't think anything about it.
The closest we ever came to being physical with each other was when someone would deserve a good tickling and the other three would hold them down and give it to them. If we were all naked at the time, no one thought anything about it.
This is all by way of explaining how I came to be so prim and proper at school and in public, even when alone with my friends, but not being that way inside. That was an act, not who I really was.
I forced myself to giggle when my girlfriends would talk about boys and sexual things. The truth was that I didn't think it was a big deal at all. I'd seen just about every animal on the ranch breed. I'd spent hundreds of hours totally naked with my three brothers. I'd seen their cocks get hard and teased them to no end about it.
When they needed to masturbate, they were gentlemen about it. We all drew the line there. They would find some excuse to go off somewhere, or get me to go off somewhere and leave them alone. And yes, I peeked many, many times and took care of myself while watching them. They knew it, and I knew they knew it, but we just didn't talk about that.
The only time any comment was made about it was on one occasion when Elliot was particularly drunk. When I came back to join them, he said in a serious tone, "Sis, I don't think we ought to let you go out there by yourself anymore."
"Why?" I asked.
"A few minutes ago, I could have sworn I heard a couple of wild bores fighting out there. We wouldn't want them to get you." And then he burst out laughing.
Okay, so I had always found it difficult to stay quiet when having an orgasm. That's how they knew what I was doing, and how I knew that they knew. But none of us had made mention of it prior to that. Eddie immediately backhanded Elliot across the chest and shook his head at him. That was the last time it was mentioned.
When they were done, they would come back, or call me back, and I would return and tease them about their boners having magically disappeared while I was gone. They weren't shy about telling me that I was responsible for them needing to do it, after my body started developing, of course.
Even peeing was done openly in front of the others. The only time that even garnered a tease was when it took too long. Most of the time, we didn't even feel the need to turn our backs for that, especially when we were all naked around the campfire drinking and smoking pot. It was just part of life. No big deal.
* * *
I was twenty-eight and very close to getting my Doctorate degree in Animal Husbandry from Texas A&M when dad died. The twins, Edward and Elliot were two years older. They had both graduated from the local junior college, but couldn't abandon the ranch to go past that in school. Randy was three years younger than me, and he was never any good in school. He did make it through High School, but just barely. He didn't go to college.
By then, Eddie and Elliot had both been married for a short time and divorced. They were typical country boys who had just never grown up. Wives and girlfriends couldn't take being third in line behind rodeos and the ranch. The twins were six-one, long legs, short dark hair, blue eyes, and each sported a "farmer's" tan.
Randy stood a little less than six foot, but resembled the twins in most other ways. He had a serious girlfriend, but had no intention of marrying her. He was the practical joker of the family and kept us all laughing when we were together.
I looked like what I was, a five foot ten-inch cowgirl. If you want to turn on a cowboy, long slender legs and a tight ass that look good in jeans will do the trick. I had both. Of course, big brown eyes, long dark brown hair, and a pair of thirty-six Ds don't hurt either hehe.
There's something else though—something that seems to turn on the boys just as much, if not more. A girl who is comfortable being just one of the guys seems to excite them. I learned that during my first year of college.
I had my share of lovers—no more—no less. I wasn't a slut, but I wasn't opposed to giving it up after a few dates either. Hell, I loved sex, and the boys I dated didn't have to pretend to be in love with me to get in my pants. They just had to date me enough times to let me get to know and like them.
I didn't have many girlfriends. I couldn't stand hanging out with them. The silly games they played drove me crazy. Looking back on it, I'm sure that having to pretend to be like them all those years finally just put me over the edge. Once away from our small town, I didn't have to do that anymore, so I didn't. I had a lot more platonic male friends than girlfriends.
* * *
Saturday, the day of dad's funeral and the several days before it were difficult on all of us. I could tell that all three of my brothers felt the same as me. We all wished that people would just leave and let us grieve in private. But the house was constantly filled with aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, and friends.
Before leaving the cemetery, Randy got the rest of us aside long enough to tell us that he was going for beer and ice—a lot of beer and ice, and that he was going to our campsite by the small lake on the other side of the ranch from the house. "They can have the house to themselves." He said, "I can't take it anymore."
I whispered to my favorite aunt that we were going somewhere to be alone, and not to worry about us if we didn't show up in time for church the next morning. We met back at the house, changed clothes, and headed out. The twins and me went on horseback, and Randy brought the food and refreshments in the jeep.
We'd been at the campsite for almost an hour and each had a couple of beers, when the silence became overwhelming. Finally, I stood up, and for the first time since graduating high school, began taking off my clothes in front of my brothers. "Sit here and cry in your beer if you want to. I'm going for a swim." Sixty seconds later, we were all in the water.
After that, the mood was lighter and more relaxed. It was just like we were teenagers again. I took great pleasure in pretending that was the case, and it wasn't difficult. We were older, but not much else had changed. Eddie did notice one change though. "Tess, when did you start trimming your puss?"
I looked down and giggled, "When I went off to college and didn't have to wear those gawd awful old-lady swimsuits anymore."
"I like it." Randy said, his words followed by a loud burp.
I giggled again, "I can tell." And then I gestured toward his boner with my beer bottle.
When the twins started laughing, I looked at them in turn and said, "What are you two laughing at? You're flagpoles were waving before I even got to the water."
"Some things never change." Eddie, spoke up.
"Thank god." Elliot added.
Something had changed though. We weren't teenagers anymore. We weren't virgins by a long shot—none of us. The fact that things weren't the same hit me the hardest when I got up and walked a few feet away and squatted to pee. They were all watching me with interest. They had never done that before, at least not so blatantly—with so much interest.
"What? You guys are acting like you've never seen me pee before." The instant I said that, the three of them diverted their eyes and made a lame attempt to start up a conversation between them.
When I was finished, I walked over and stared down at them, "I'll get dressed if it's bothering you that much." My comment was followed by total silence. "Guys?"
Finally Eddie got up and went to the ice chest, his beautiful hard cock waving in front of him. "It's not your fault, Tess. It's ours."
"What the fuck are you talking--"
Elliot broke in, "We've been out here a lot of times without you, and . . ."
"And what?" I asked, not being able to imagine what he was talking about.
Eddie finished what Elliot was trying to say "Men talk. You weren't here and we talked about you a lot. Do you understand now?"
"What we'd have done if you weren't our sister—that kind of talk." Elliot confessed.
I was shocked, but then I immediately began feeling stupid or naïve for being shocked. I had simply never considered that possibility. I knew looking at my naked body made them hard, but that was to be expected. A teenage boy can't see a naked girl without getting a boner. That's just physiology. It's not intentional. But I never dreamed that they had imagined doing sexual things with me. And even now that we were older, I never considered that they were actually thinking those things—because of me yes, but not about me.
"You're kidding, right?" I asked, but again, there was total silence. They just sat there and stared at the ground between us. Finally, I decided to meet it head on. I got my beer and sat on the ground right in front of the three of them. "Okay then, out with it. Tell me. When did that kind of thinking and talking start? Before I left for college or after? I want the truth."
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