When mum died little brother Gordon came to live with us, "us" being my husband Andrew and I.
I had only been married to Andrew two years, and like many young couples, we had a mortgage and a few other debts, like paying off the car.
After mum's death the question arose, "Where's Gordon going to live?" Andrew said, "Let's invite him to live with us, Alice. We've got three bedrooms, and he could pay board and that would help with the mortgage."
I saw no reason why we should not take him in. I had always got on well with my little brother, and perhaps I should explain that my "little brother" was twenty-two at the time, and six feet two inches in his bare feet, and built along athletic lines. The "little" came into it because he is three years younger than I am, so when he was born, he was my little brother.
Unlike a lot of brothers and sisters, we had got on well. I suppose you could say we loved each other. Even during the obnoxious teenage years we had not fought, argued or hated each other.
The house that mum and Gordon had lived in was rented, so there was no nice lump sum of money to come from a sale, but Gordon was doing very nicely, financially speaking. Ever since he was a about seven he had shown signs of being one of those electronic whiz kids, and he now went around doing mysterious things for companies wanting to install or upgrade their electronic stuff.
When I put the idea to him of his coming to live with Andrew and me, Gordon readily agreed.
Mum's house had been too big for the two of them, so it was certainly too big for one. In addition, the rent was pretty steep, and as he had been partially keeping mum, when we got down to terms, with both won out. It would cost him less to live with us, and we got something towards the bills.
Andrew and I used the main and biggest bedroom, so we gave Gordon the second biggest room. The smallest bedroom had been optimistically reserved for the baby that consistently failed to arrive, despite the ineffectual efforts Andrew and I put in, trying to make it happen.
I did the room up nicely for Gordon and he seemed very pleased with it.
I was really delighted to have him live with us. Since my marriage, I had seen little of Gordon, despite the special bond we seemed to have.
This bond had been the source of some jealousy between Andrew and Gordon when I first started to date with Andrew. I was nineteen at the time, and Andrew thought I had what he called, "An unnatural attachment" to Gordon, and Gordon seemed to see Andrew as a rival, even though Gordon was only about fifteen. I had to settle that by talking about different kinds of love and relationships. That seemed to calm them down, but I was still a bit surprised when Andrew made his suggestion about Gordon coming to live with us. Actually, I think he only had our finances in mind.
Gordon settled in very well, and for me it was a bit like the old days when we were kids and teenagers. We liked to talk over old times together, but had to be careful not to do so when Andrew was around, as he felt left out. I didn't want the old monster jealousy rearing its ugly head again.
Of course, jealousy can work both ways, can't it?
So things went along nicely and Gordon was no trouble to have around the place.
After a while I began to wonder about Gordon and girls. He never spoke about them and I never asked, but I conjectured there was a girl, or girls, somewhere on the scene.
Actually, it was a bit more than conjecture. Gordon would go out two or three times a week and not come home until around one o'clock in the morning. A couple of times I had been up finishing off some left over jobs, and when Gordon came to kiss me goodnight…well, I know the smell of sex and women.
Unreasonably, I found that it was me who started to get jealous. I had long ago recognised that Gordon was a really sexy stud. I had reason to know, but I shall let that pass for the moment. My point is, Gordon not only looked sexy, he was in fact very sexually potent, and there was no reason why he shouldn't enjoy his virility, especially, as I suspected, he would be giving equal joy to some girl.
One day about three months after Gordon came to live with us, he was taking a day off. At one stage, he was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee.
In hot weather I have the habit of getting around the house bare foot, with rather diminutive and tight shorts, and a top that exposes the midriff, and nothing else.
Gordon made the comment, "My God, sis, you're a sexy woman. Lucky Andrew."
I laughed and remarked, "Habit doesn't always make the heart grow fonder."
"You mean Andrew doesn't like your figure?"
"He did when we first started to…to…When we first started to go out, but he doesn't comment these days."
"He does…er…well, he does have…make love with you, doesn't he?"
"Oh yes, when he can summon up the interest that is about once a week. As you know, we've been trying to get pregnant."
"Hmm. Alice, do you remember some of the things we used to do when we were kids?"
"Yes, and it was a good job mum didn't find out." I laughed.
"Do you remember the time we sneaked up to mum and dad's bedroom and they'd left the door open and crack, and we watched them?"
I felt myself flush at the memory of dad moaning into mum.
Gordon went on, "Next day you said we should play mothers and fathers down in the garden shed."
My flush deepened. I had been about eleven at the time and Gordon around eight. As a result of our game of mothers and fathers, which for a while became habitual, there had been some interesting discoveries made concerning the differences between boys and girls. There was also some experimentation that went on with varying degrees of success in the years that followed.
For want of anything better to say I said, "Happy days."
"Do you really think so?"
I had made my remark half mockingly to try to cover my self-consciousness, but Gordon's question was sincere. I began to think about how I had felt back then.
Had mum or dad caught us we would have been told that we were filthy little animals or something like that. I think for mum sex was always dirty and only did her "duty" with dad…poor dad.
Thinking about it as I tried to find an answer for Gordon, I remembered it as being rather sweet, and once we had learned a little about each other, almost heavenly.
I had always been the initiator of our "games," but when I started to menstruate, I stopped them. Poor Gordon was bewildered and upset and I made some horrible comment like, "I'm a woman now, and you're only a kid."
I looked across at Gordon and said, "I think it was lovely, and we did have a lot of fun."
"Fun! Is that what it was, sis?"
I knew what he was getting at. A lie or a truth stood between us at that moment, and perhaps we had to talk it out now, and not let it hang on in our lives.
"All right, Gordon, it was, or it became, more than fun. That's why I had to stop it."
"You don't know how it hurt when you said, 'No more'. Why did you stop?"
"Gordon, I was fifteen and had just starting to menstruate. You were twelve and I knew very well that because of the way we felt about each other, one day we would do it, as we used to say, 'Properly'. Suppose I'd got pregnant? There would've been hell let loose. Social workers, psychologists perhaps even the police."
"I had visions of dad being interrogated because they thought he'd tried it on with me. Then they might find out it was you who made me pregnant, and you know what that would have done to mum and dad."
"I know you're right, Alice, but I didn't understand properly at the time. All I knew was I loved you and I never wanted anyone else, even at twelve. And nothing has changed in that respect."
"You mean you still…still want to…"
"Yes, I still want to. Bloody hell, Alice, I've had plenty of girls, but I'm always looking for you in them, but you're not there. You know I've stayed away from you ever since you started going around with Andrew, but that didn't stop me wanting you."
"I was amazed when Andrew asked me to come and live here. One part of me wanted to say 'no' because I would know that you and Andrew were making love – I might even hear you doing it – and he would be having the woman I wanted. Then I thought it had never been like it for you as it is for me. I might get over it by being with you. I came here really out of a sort of bravado. I was going to look my dragon in the face and overcome it."
"And have you overcome it?" I asked gently.
"No, and I don't think I ever will. I think I might have to look for somewhere else to live – get out of your hair."
The things we were talking about had started making me disconcertingly wet between the legs and I was sure my shorts must have been showing a wet patch. Even if they weren't, if Gordon was as sharp as I thought he was, he would surely notice the stiffening of my nipples. I wished I had put bras on.
Things had come out into the open, but not everything. I thought I might as well get it over and tell the rest of it.
"Gordon, you are wrong in thinking I don't feel the same as you. I'm going to tell you something pretty awful. When I make love with Andrew, I have to pretend it's you so I can have an orgasm. It isn't that I don't care about Andrew, but he is not, and never has been, the man I really want."
"You mean you want…still want me?"
"Darling, if things had been different, if we weren't brother and sister, I would have moved heaven and hell to get you to marry me."
I wanted to go on, to tell him how deeply I loved him and wanted him, but it felt as if there was a lump in my throat and despite the heat of the day, I was beginning to shiver.
Gordon stared down at the floor and said very quietly, "Oh God, Alice, why didn't you say. We could have found a way…we could have…we could have been together. You should have told me."
I was openly weeping now. "Even if I had told you, what could we do? If we set up house together, mum would have eventually got suspicious, and even if we took precautions, there's nothing one hundred percent certain, and I might have got pregnant."
"Yes, I suppose so. I'll leave as soon as I can find a place."
I couldn't hold it back, it just burst out of me: "Don't leave me, Gordon."
As soon as I said it I wanted to call the words back, but it was too late. I was in a terrible state, lusting for him. I looked across at him and I could se his erect manhood thrusting against his shorts.
I went to him and sat astride him as he sat. "Just once, darling, just once as we always said we would "do it" one day.
"He's not here, darling, and mum and dad are dead, so just this once."
I stood for a moment and removed my shorts and panties, then unzipped his shorts. I took out his penis and sat astride him again, then lowered myself onto him.
I felt him enter and as he did he groaned, "Oh, Alice, my dearest love."
The position we were in meant I could not get his full penetration, but I pushed down hard on him, taking as much as I could get.
I thought I must be in heaven. The man I had always wanted…loved passionately. At last, I had him.
I stopped moving and asked, "Is this what you've wanted all these years?"
"Alice…Alice…it's so…so beautiful…but I can't hold back, darling."
"It's all right, my love, just let it go. That's what I want, your sperm inside me."
He seized my hips and dragged me up and down on him, starting to cry out, "I love you Alice, I've always loved you."
I felt his sperm thump into me and wave after wave of tender passion flowed through me with each new thrust. I was close to orgasm, and as Gordan finished his ejaculation, I begged him, "Stay with me darling, I'm going to come."
"For always if that is what you want, my love."
The first surge of my orgasm burst upon me, and as if it were someone else, I heard myself crying out, "Ah – ah – ah". I was sobbing and wanted to tell of my love for him, but I could not form the words. Only at the climax could I scream out, "Oh my love."
As the vibrations of my orgasm began to fade, I remained sitting over him, his slackening penis still inside me. He had raised my top to expose my breasts, and his hands were fondling them.
I gasped out, "Love of my life!"
Gordon made no move to withdraw from me. With Andrew, it was withdrawal almost as soon as he finished ejaculating, then to sleep. It had been like that from the start. I suppose I had thought that all men were like that, but I had not taken account of a love like Gordon's.
I thought not to try his patience, so I started to lift myself off him. He grasped my hips, holding me down on him. "Stay a little longer, my love," he whispered."
I took up his words, "For always if that is what you want, my love."
"Do you mean that," he asked.
"Yes, did you?"
"You won't leave me, then, you'll stay?"
"After what we've just done, and what I felt, I couldn't leave you if my life depended on it."
"Then let's clean up a bit, and after you can take me to bed. I…I don't want us to use the bed I…"
"I know," he said, "we'll use mine. Bit uncomfortable being a single bed, but that might change."
We showered together, and Gordon took me standing, or rather, lifted up, against the shower wall. I felt him go in deeper this time.
When we got to the bedroom he said, "And now, sexy sister, I'm going to do something to you I've dreamed of doing for years."
He sat me on the edge of the bed and draping my legs over his shoulders, he parted the lips of my vulva, then thrust in with his tongue through the inner lips into my vagina.
I had once asked Andrew to do this to me, but he'd hardly started, when he pulled away saying, "That's horrible."
I suppose it's everyone to their own taste, but it did not do much good for my female ego.
I felt Gordon licking my lubricant, and then he tongue flicked over my clitoris, causing me to give a little scream. The wicked man brought me to the edge of orgasm, then stopped, leaving me hanging.
"You're being cruel," I said facetiously. "You're just trying to torment me. You don't love me at all."
He laughed and said, "There's something else I've dreamed of doing to you."
He came over my breasts and holding one breast to raise up the nipple, he took it into his mouth.
"Oh God, Gordon, that's lovely, keep doing it, don't stop."
I sought for his penis with my hand, and began to flick his foreskin of the crown. He was dripping pre-cum, and soon it was running down his shaft and onto my hand.
Even though I had asked him not to stop sucking my nipples, I felt a certain urgency about the needs of my vagina. Big lad that he is, I shoved him off me, nearly tipping him out of the single bed, got him onto his back and began kissing him.
Between tongues tangling in each other's mouths, I managed to tell him that he was going to "fuck me to death."
Actually, it was almost the other way round, because I sat across him, determined to get every millimetre of him into me, and dropped down on him, hearing his groan of ecstacy again.
Having come into me twice in the last hour, he was ready for a much longer and slower coupling. I moved up and down on him, changing the angle of penetration every now and then, to let us both feel different sensations.
We both kept up a murmur of loving words, talking of our devotion to each other. We continued like this for about half an hour, staying motionless occasionally, looking into each other's eyes and stroking each other's bodies.
I was the first to come this time. I felt my orgasm approaching, at first causing me to speed up my movements. Then as the vibrations started to shake me I began to use slower and harder thrusts, calling out to him, "deeper…deeper."
He grasped my hips and on my downward thrusts, he dragged me down tighter and tighter. Everything seemed to be spinning, and at the climatic moment, I gave forth with a tremendous scream, and it was at that moment he shot into me.
Comparisons are said to be "odious," but I could not but recall Andrew's feeble little dribbles, as I experienced Gordon's powerful explosions of semen. It began to run out of me between his penis and the walls of my vagina.
I was in paradise and helpless. "I'll never let you go," I screamed at him. "You're mine, you've always been mine. I love you."
He was mine, and if he tried to leave, to run away, I felt I would pursue him to the ends of the earth. He was my other half, without him I was only half a woman. He made me whole. I wanted to possess him, to meld with him.
As if picking up my thoughts, and while I still sat across him, Gordon said, "You do know we can't stop now, don't you? We belong together as we always have."
"Yes, I know, darling. I'm not sure how we are going to deal with it, but I know we must."
Long after I had drawn away from him, we talked of what we must do. It came down to two main possibilities. First, I tell Andrew I was leaving him, and set up house with Gordon. This would no doubt be terribly painful for Andrew, especially as I would not be able to give him a clear reason why I was leaving him.
The other possibility was to tell Andrew nothing and for Gordon and I to go on making love whenever we could while staying in the house. The question was, could we live with this deception?
After seemingly endless talk we settled for saying nothing to Andrew for the time being, hoping some other way might open up for us.
If this did not completely come about, at least something happened to modify the situation.
Gordon and I did make love at every safe opportunity. Gordon even went so far as to say that he would much prefer a double bed, and if we didn't mind, he would buy one himself. This he duly did, making sex more comfortable for us.
The modification came about when I had to tell Gordon I was pregnant. After two years of trying with Andrew, I had got pregnant, almost certainly with Gordon. That was not absolutely certain because I still had my once a week, Friday night intercourse with Andrew. Never the less, Gordon as daddy was the most likely bet.
"We'll have to tell Andrew now," Gordon said.
I agreed, and we decided that we would both be present when I told him.
What we hadn't anticipated was Andrew's response.
One evening when we were all together, I began to say to Andrew, "Andrew, I think I'm pregnant…"
Before I could go on to say what I had intended, Andrew burst out with:
"Bloody hell, at last. I thought I'd never be a father."
He turned to Gordon and said, "Aren't you going to congratulate me, old boy?"
Gordon looked quickly across at me, his face white. How could we say to a happy Andrew, "Sorry, but you're probably not the father"? I gave Gordon a nod, and he extended his hand saying, "Of course, congratulations Andrew."
For some people hypocrisy seems to come easily. Not for Gordan and I. We had to go on pretending that nothing was amiss, and it was so agonising that we were unable to have sex for two days.
Andrew went on, "Alice and I were going to have tests to try and find out if anything was wrong, we don't have to now. You are sure, aren't you, Alice?"
I can't be completely sure until there's been a medical test, but I should have menstruated two weeks ago and haven't."
"Marvelous," chortled Andrew, "let's break out one of those bottles of champagne we've been hoarding."
We spent the evening proposing toasts to what Andrew insisted on calling "Gareth", so set he was on it being a boy. He was so beside himself with self-congratulations he failed to notice his two companions were less than happy.
In my heart, I longed for the baby to be Gordon's, and I could have had tests to confirm or deny this, but obviously, I could not take the risk. If Gordon did prove to be the father, and Andrew found out, it might destroy him – his wife being pregnant to another man, and that man her brother.