My Brother's Wife

The following day I smartened myself up and went and had a word with an old pal, who found me a job in his carpentry business. I've always been good with my hands and, while the pay was nothing to write home about, it was better than drinking myself into an early grave in maudlin self-pity. It knocked me sideways a bit when I got a letter from a poncey firm of Glasgow solicitors, informing me that Mrs McArdle – Jeannie – was suing for divorce, but I coped. Shona got into the habit of 'phoning me about once a week, to see how I was doing, and she began inviting me for lunch every Sunday. Ewan didn't seem too chuffed, but Shona and I had some rare conversations over the dinner table about the world and all its doings. I sometimes thought that, for a teacher, Ewan didn't really seem to take that much interest in what was going on around us, he just affected a world weary boredom with it all.

Maybe two months after the picnic one of the local posties retired and I got his round. It meant getting up at the crack of dawn, delivering mail in the town and the surrounding area in all kinds of weather, but they were a good crowd down at the sorting office and we had a few laughs. It also meant I got off work about lunchtime, which gave me time to work on my poetry. Shona's reaction to it had really encouraged me, and I was building up quite a wee portfolio. One I was particularly pleased with, which I certainly didn't show her – not then, anyway – was called The Kiss. It was a about a sad guy on a beautiful hilltop with a girl and a picnic basket...

One day, just a few minutes after I'd got home from work and showered, there was a tap at the door and I opened it to admit Shona. She normally just breezed in as free as you like, so there was something odd there, but she seemed somehow a bit vague in herself, a bit spaced out. Not sure what was wrong, or why she was there in the middle of her working day, I sat her down in the kitchen and asked if I could get her a coffee. She shook her head, staring into space. Tea or a juice then? No. What would she like then, I asked her. For the first time since she'd arrived she looked me straight in the face, and said "I want to go to bed." Not sure if I'd understood her right I just stared at her with my mouth hanging open like a landed fish. She stood up, came over to me and flung her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly to her as her mouth attacked mine. I didn't ask any questions, I just put an arm round her back, scooped the other arm around her knees and, lifting her into my arms, carried her up the narrow staircase to my bedroom. If this was a dream I wanted to see it through before I realised it and woke up!

I sat us down on the bed and started popping the buttons on her uniform dress. She didn't want to break off kissing me but I managed to untangle us long enough to slip the dress off her arms and unclip her bra, releasing her small, beautifully sculpted breasts. I struggled out of my own shirt and trews, then pushed her back on the bed and, our lips still locked together, lifted her bum to shiggle the dress and her pants down past it. Finally we were both naked, and I could feel my stiff cock rubbing against the short prickles of her Brazilian. I was looking to enter her straight off, but she finally broke the kiss, rolled me onto my back and squatted down between my legs, taking my prick into her mouth. God, it was heaven! She pumped her gorgeous fleshy lips up and down me, her teeth grazing me, as she rubbed the palm of a hand up and down my scrotum. With her other hand she reached under me and, with a single finger, stroked inside the bottom of my arse crack. The feeling was incredibly erotic and, unable to hold back, I shot my load into her mouth.

I desperately wanted to fuck my beautiful sister-in-law, but I needed time to get hard again, so I flipped her onto her back and sucked one of her little soft tits into my mouth. Her nipple, though small, was hard as a berry, and she hissed with arousal as I scratched my teeth along it. As I did so I slipped three fingers into her burning cunt and rimmed her, feeling her legs double up, inviting me in. I wasn't quite ready yet, but I was more than happy to get a taste of her again. I lapped my tongue the length of her pussy over and over, making her twitch and gasp every time I nudged my nose against her clit. Her fingers raked at my hair and she gave a long, guttural moan. Her snatch was sopping wet when I finally pushed myself back up her body and my cock slammed home. I stayed still for a moment, just enjoying the sensation of finally being inside Shona, but then I started pulling slowly out, pushing a little way back in, then out again, teasing her. But as I felt her soft feet scrabbling to find my bum, to push me in more deeply, I rammed it back in with all my strength. Her legs wrapped tightly around my back as I fucked her as hard as I could, my fingers digging into her bum cheeks, pulling them apart. I tried to kiss her, but her head was whipping from side to side too quickly for that as she gasped "Oh yes, fuck me big man, yes, that is so gooood!"

We came together, her screaming with joy before I slumped down onto her, finally trapping her lips with mine and reaming her mouth with my tongue. She didn't go back to work that day. Once she'd got her breath back she 'phoned in and said she'd been taken ill, and we spent the entire afternoon drowsing, fucking and sucking. It was a day I wanted never to end. Shona never did tell me exactly what changed that day, but we developed a regular little routine. Two or three days a week, she would 'phone just before she took her lunch break to see if I was back from my work, and if she was she'd rush round here, we'd get a quick three-quarters of an hour in bed – just long enough for a fuck and for one of us to give the other a good licking – then she'd rush back to work with her cunt throbbing while I lay back in bed and replayed the time in my head. Of course, Kirkhaven's a wee town, where everyone's into each other's business, and there was a good chance that folk would start paying attention to our doings. My neighbour did comment on Shona's regular appearances, and I told her the two of us just liked having our lunch together now and then. But I think subconsciously I was hoping it would get back to Ewan.

I felt more sexually gratified than at any time in my life, but I didn't want just that – shagging Shona a few times a week, and pretending in front of Ewan that we were just friends over Sunday lunch. I loved her with all my heart and I wanted to be with her all the time, and just do normal things together – eat breakfast, go to the shops, sit watching TV, walk around with her on my arm, believing every guy who saw us must be cringing with jealousy. I'd promised myself I'd never put pressure on Shona, for risk of losing her as much as anything; but it wasn't easy. One day, as we were laying in bed having a post-coital hug, I joked that it must be nice for her to have found a bit of rough as a change from my clever, charming brother. She took me seriously and sighed. "Brian, I wish you wouldn't run yourself down all the time. You've got loads of qualities Ewan hasn't. You're funny – I've never really been sure if Ewan gets humour or just laughs when everyone else does. You're better looking – no, don't laugh. I know 'rugged good looks' is a bit of an Emily Bronte cliché, but I fancy you so it must have something going for it. You're a big, strong guy, and you're a grown-up – Ewan can be so immature sometimes. And when I've been with you I really know I've been fucked, not like..."

She trailed off, but it didn't take a genius to work out what followed; and I just couldn't help myself. I asked her why she didn't leave my brother. She leaned up on an elbow, and gazed down at my face. "It's difficult Brian. I'm in love with you, I really am, but I love Ewan too. He's not as strong as you are, and he needs me more than you do. This way you both get part of me. I know it's not ideal, but..."

Angry now, at the implied suggestion that I was only interested in her for one thing, I sat up on the side of the bed. "It's not enough, Shona. I want you all the time, I don't want to share you with anyone else. Fuck Ewan, I want you to leave him for me."

She shook her head sadly, at my apparent inability to understand her dilemma. "I'm sorry, it's just not me."

Again the words were out of my mouth before my brain shifted into gear. "So what is you, shuttling between the two of us, like a fucking whore?" She turned her back to me in the bed. Instantly I wanted to rip my tongue out. I reached over to her, placed a hand on her shoulder. "Oh shit, I'm sorry Shona, I didn't mean that. Honest I didn't."

She refused to look at me, but I heard the tears in her voice. "I know you didn't. Look, I need to get back to the surgery. I'll call you in a couple of days, okay?" As she left the room I told her I loved her. Without turning she said, so softly I barely heard it, "I know you do Brian." In fact, it was almost a week before she 'phoned me, on the Saturday. "Look sweetie, I think maybe we ought to cool it for a while. I don't mean for good, I want to see you again but, well, maybe it's just getting a wee bit heavy just at the moment. By the way, do you mind if we cancel Sunday lunch tomorrow? Ewan and I want to try out the new carvery that's opened in Portree."

I was distraught. I hated not having Shona to myself, but the thought of not having her at all was a million times worse. I didn't go to lunch the next Sunday either; Shona 'phoned and invited me, but I couldn't face the pretence of it all. She sounded concerned. "Brian, sweetie, you're not upset with me are you? You do understand, don't you?" I lied that no I wasn't upset with her and yes, of course I understood.

A few days later I was walking down to Mackie's for a pint when I saw Shona standing at the bus stop. She looked slightly alarmed when she saw me crossing the road to her, as if she was looking for an escape route. I asked where her car was and she said it was laid up for a couple of days. Ewan had got a lift home with a colleague when school finished, and she'd said she wouldn't mind making her own way. I glanced at my watch. "Shona, the bus won't be here for more than half an hour. Look, come back to my place for a coffee – just a coffee – then I'll give you a lift home." She looked reluctant, but clearly couldn't think of a way out of it without offending me. So she sat at my kitchen table – which had twice previously ended up with us having sex – and I set her coffee in front of her. Unable to stop myself, I reached across and closed my big hand over her small one. "It's okay, when I said just a coffee I meant it. But I've missed you Shona."

"I've missed you too" she told me, but she stared bleakly into my eyes. If I hadn't been gazing at her lovely face like a loon I'd maybe not have noticed that the skin under her right eye looked puffy and discoloured. She looked panicky again as I moved nearer to her, and flinched as with a thumb I gently smeared away some of the thick make-up she'd used to try and cover the bruise. Fear in her eyes, she gabbled, "It was an accident, I just walked into a kitchen cupboard door the other day. Honestly, I'm so clumsy." She raised a hand to her face, then hurriedly dropped it again, but not before her sleeve had slipped far enough back on her arm to show me the ugly bruising where a hand had gripped tightly around her wrist. Oh aye, I thought, and did the cupboard grab your wrist like that too? She realised I'd seen it, and dropped her eyes to her lap in embarrassment.

I was very quiet after that. We went out to my battered old car and I drove the three miles out of town to the cottage she shared with my brother. Shona must have seen the boiling fury in me sparking in my eyes. As we drew to a halt she placed a hand on my wrist. "Brian, it really was an accident, honestly. It...Ewan didn't mean to hurt me. You're not going to do anything silly are you?" In answer I climbed out of the car, slammed the door and stalked into the house before Shona had even moved.

Ewan glanced up from some school books he was marking, then back down to them disdainfully. "Oh, it's you; what are you doing here? Is Shona with you?" A moment later my arm shot out and dragged him to his feet by the front of his shirt. I asked him, in a very quiet, very menacing voice, if he'd been hitting Shona. He laughed nervously, but avoided making contact with my eyes. "Of course not. Anyway, what business is it of yours?" I heard Shona enter, and gasp at the scene which confronted her. Ewan, his face contorted in rage, glanced over my shoulder. "What have you been saying, you stupid lying bitch?" That was it. I felt a moment of immense satisfaction as my forehead, moving with the speed of a guided missile, smashed into the bridge of his nose. I heard the crack of bone and saw a spurt of blood splatter against my shirt. I barely noticed Shona's scream.

Still holding Ewan by the front of his now bloodied shirt, I slammed him against a stone wall. My face inches from his, I growled, "If you ever – EVER – lay a hand on her again I swear on our parents' graves that I will fucking kill you. Do you understand me?" His lips started to contort into a sneer, but I swiped the back of my hand across his face, sending him sprawling into a corner. I felt Shona pulling at my shoulders but shrugged her off and jabbed a finger towards my brother's face. "I asked you a question – DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND ME?" Staring fearfully at me now, Ewan nodded silently. I turned to Shona. "Come on Shona, pack a bag, I'm getting you out of here. If you don't want to stay with me tonight we can book you a hotel."

Ewan sat up and plucked up his courage. Mustering as much anger into his voice as he dared, one of his lips bleeding and beginning to swell. he snapped, "You leave my wife alone. She's not going anywhere with you. Now you get out of our house before I call the police."

For a second I considered slapping him again, but Shona was upset enough, silently crying, her face deathly pale. So I said, "Well, I think that's up to her. Shona?"

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes swivelling between me and Ewan. Then, in a rush, she went to him, hugged him to her as he started to cry, his bloody nose smearing her dress. The look of hurt and reproach in her eyes as she glared at me almost physically bruised me. Swiping angry tears from my eyes I stormed out of the place and drove back to town like a lunatic. As I got out of the car I heard from the town square a jeer and the sound of glass breaking. A group of four or five teenagers were sitting around the foot of the war memorial swigging beer from bottles. It was only what I'd done myself when I was their age, but I was still wound up like a coiled spring. I marched over to them and asked them why they were out boozing on a school night. They told me to fuck off and one of them threw a bottle at me, which shattered inches from my boot...

I pleaded guilty to all the charges. One of the lads had a broken arm, another one severe bruising to the face and upper body. They claimed that if they hadn't pulled me off the third one I'd probably have throttled him. The judge told me that although I'd never been in trouble with the law before, the seriousness of the offences left him with no choice but to give me a custodial sentence. I got my solicitor to sell my property in Kirkhaven. I was finished there anyway, and it meant I could finally pay Jeannie what I owed her from the divorce, and have a few quid in the bank for when I was released. You hear some bad things about prison, but I got through it unscathed. I'm big enough that the queers didn't bother me, and once I'd made it clear that I wasn't interested in buying drugs I was more or less left alone. I got on well with the education officer and he encouraged me not to abandon my poetry. Unbeknown to me he sent some samples to a publisher in Edinburgh, and next thing I knew I had a contract to provide enough for a slim volume, which I titled The Kiss. They included a few I'd written in my early days inside. They weren't The Ballad Of Reading Gaol, but the book sold a few copies, and I got one or two very kind letters from readers. I never received a single visitor in the prison; well, I told myself, Aberdeen's a long way from Kirkhaven. Still, you might have thought at least one person I knew might write to me. I wrote one letter, to someone who had once been in love with me, but I never received a reply.

I kept my nose clean, and after nine months the parole board decided to let me out on licence. As the prison gate closed behind me I stood there wondering what the hell I was going to do next. I vaguely noticed a woman standing across the road, but nobody I recognised. Then she crossed the road, held something out to me, and said in a mock street urchin voice, "'Scuse us mister, yae gonnae sign yer book fer us?"

I looked again, and realised the reason I'd not immediately picked up it was Shona was because her long chestnut locks were gone, replaced by a short, spiky, punkish hair-do. She grinned sheepishly. "Hello Brian, you're looking surprisingly well. A bit pale maybe." I was totally bemused, and she saw it in my face. "Brian, I'm sorry for what I did to you. I really wanted to come and visit you, but I thought you must hate me. I had to come now and find out though, one way or the other." Still stunned, I asked if she had received my letter. She shook her head, looking upset, and said Ewan had probably got to it first. When I asked how my brother was she looked at her feet and said, "I don't know; I, er, well, I haven't seen him in a while." Then she peered into my face, with something like desperation in her eyes. "I've been regretting the decision I made, that night in the cottage, for every hour since then. Look: I've moved back to Edinburgh. My dad owns a printing business there" – a printing empire, more like – "and he's got a job for you in the office, if you want it. It's not the best salary in the world, but...I'm going to call a taxi now. If you don't want to come with me, well, I can take you to the station if you like, or drop you off in town somewhere."

When I held my arms out to her, trying to blink tears from my eyes, she threw herself at me, hugging me to her, sobbing into my chest. "Oh shit Brian, I've missed you so much, I'm so sorry." I shushed her, stroking my hand through her hair, messing up her expensive spikes.

We kissed and nuzzled the whole way back to Edinburgh, and within five minutes of entering her wee flat in Stockbridge we were in bed. She cried again as she rode my face, my tongue lapping up and down her hot wet pussy. Her thighs were cushioned against my ears, but I heard her repeating over and over, like a mantra, "I love you, I love you, oh God, how I love you." Later, as we fucked each other, the soles of her feet stroking my bum and my thighs, I cried again too, as she bit her lip and her face contorted with lust, her succulent lips whispering again how much she loved me, and that she never wanted to be apart from me for a moment again.

I don't know where Ewan is these days, or what he's doing. And frankly, I don't give a fuck.