The Barn
The barn hadn't been used for more than storing hay in more than a decade. The smell was of moldy hay and old leather. Straps and bridles that hadn't been used for many years hung from large nails driven into the huge support pillars. Every visit to the family owned farm for the reunion encouraged at least one visit to the barn, probably to exorcize demons of hard work and youthful passion spent in the hay loft. Seeing her standing there leaning against the pillar in her summer sun dress brought back old memories and lost lustful feelings.
She smiled as I stepped closer, eyes widening as I reached up to grab her long hair kissing her in a way that we hadn't kissed in since childhood, before we knew about cousin taboo. She had always been submissive, wanting no needing to please, ever since her jackass of a father kept telling her how useless she was since she was not a boy and couldn't do a mans work on the farm.
