The Really Complicated Family Ch. 06

We got a taxi to the hotel, and were ushered through and shown to our table, which I was pleased to see was for two. The tickets were quite expensive and the event completely black tie. We were lobbied by some young people trying to convince us to sign up to some quite expensive monthly direct debits to help dig wells in Africa. We explained that we were poor school teachers trying to do our bit but coming this evening and they were kind enough to leave us alone and head to the next table.

The dinner was excellent, and the professional big band brilliant. We had been bullied into learning to dance when we were kids, don't ask me why, and both knew how to foxtrot, so when the dinner had finished and the band moved onto swing numbers we were in our element.

We stopped a few times to drink the champagne that was being handed around, and rest our feet, but we soon found ourselves in each-other's arms and when the tempo dropped to 'I only have eyes for you' we stopped any formal dancing and just held each other and kissed. I felt Tim's hands on my bottom and hoped desperately that he wouldn't try to pull my skirt up, as I remembered that I wasn't wearing panties and the room would see my shapely, slightly pinched, white bottom framed by the black nylon of the crotchless and backless tights I was wearing.

"Careful," I whispered in his ear.

"Careful of what?" he said, confused.

"Careful with the back of my dress," I said and grinning coquettishly I added, "I'm not wearing any panties."

He grinned in delighted surprise, and I felt his hands move across my arse as he tried to detect any subtle differences that might have let him know this. Whatever reason it was very nice to have my cute bottom, still one of my favourite parts of my body, massaged and generally grabbed and fondled.

The music stopped and an encore called for,

"If they play 'New York-New York' and expect us to all hold hands I'm out the door," Tim said squeezing my bum again. I grinned resting my forehead against his, my arms around his broad shoulders.

"Don't worry," I said, "I feel it's going to be a good one," and with that, the band played 'The lady is a tramp' and the whole room sang it.

At the end, the band received a standing ovation, and the lights slowly came on. Still in each-other's arms, I looked into his eyes, smiled then kissed him. We broke.

As we did, as one person we both started to mouth, 'I love you'. We both beamed at each other, hugging, with him lifting me off my feet. When we broke for breath I had tears pouring down my face, and he dabbed them dry with his handkerchief.

As we left the ballroom, I noted that leaflets had been left on the tables indicating that rooms were available for the night at a reduced rate.

"How about it Mr Barnes?" I said, handing him the flyer.

"I would love to Miss Barnes," he said, and handed over his credit card to the young man behind the desk. We took the lift almost to the top floor, and found our way to our large room. There was a welcome pack of shower gels and shampoos and toothbrushes and toothpaste.

We cleaned our teeth before starting to undress and I thanked whatever it was that caused me to put my contraceptive pills in my clutch bag as well as my lippy and compact. I lay on the bed in just tights, my bare pussy on full display, and with a hint of devilment on my part, I'd left on my patent leather stiletto heels.

His cock looked even bigger than usual and I guessed that the excellent food, excellent and copious wines, champagne and romance were making him look even better than he normally did.

I felt my eyes fill with tears again, and quickly reached down to remove my heels before dragging off my tights. I didn't want to be his black laced whore tonight, I was more in love than I had ever been before in my life and I wanted it perfect. With no nightwear, I reached down and pulled up the silk sheets and pulled them tight across my bust to preserve not my modesty but to add a hint of the unknown. Tim had watched in the mirror, and when he turned to face me I saw in his smile that he understood and slid under the covers pulling them close and moving close next to me.

We kissed, and held each other, him taking his time with his gentle stroking and play, taking as long as he liked. Even though the clock said it was half past one I didn't feel tired, and I holding his cheek, I whispered,

"My Darling Tim, make love to me."

He climbed over me settling between my thighs that I had opened to welcome him, and the head of his cock pushed into me. We made love.

We didn't fuck, we didn't shag – we made love, simple, passionate, standard boring missionary sex but as I felt his come spill deep inside me, I came – crying in relief and with the simple emotion of the ending of the single most romantic night of my whole life.

When we arrived at the dining room the next morning, like quite a few others we were still in evening dress, and Tim's bow tie hung around his neck made me fancy him even more.

After breakfast we walked from the hotel to the nearby taxi rank hand in hand, him in his white linen dress shirt and his DJ over his shoulder. It was one of those wonderful moments that you see in Bond films and just added to perfection.

We were as packed as we could be, and everything that wasn't eventually coming back to my place, was gone or ready to go. He still had four days of his notice period to work out, so I'd be back for him in two weeks' time with another smaller van and bring him and his final few possessions south for the last time.

The big removal van needed to be unloaded back at my house and returned to hire company before I collected my car and drove home and got ready for work the next day. So hours earlier than usual and barely able to control my tears, I kissed him goodbye again promising to ring him when I got home. We'd not had time for sex at the hotel as we had breakfast to get to, a shower and get the keys back before eleven o'clock. A month ago I would have dropped to my knees and blown him or let him fuck my mouth, but the downer I felt at having to leave him for almost a fortnight was almost paralysing.

I wiped my eyes on and off for the next hour until I finally got into the journey and the M1 became the M25 and then the A3, and I was home, unloading the van into my garage then driving the van back to the hire firm and collecting my car – safe, sound and brilliantly equipped. On the way back to my house I posted his application form in the letter box on the corner of my road.

I rang him, and we chatted about how his gear had fitted in the garage; I didn't tell him that his clothes were in my bedroom drawers and wardrobes, not in the spare room he'd used last time. We both spoke in hushed whispers about how wonderful the weekend had been and he said that is was twelve short days before we'd be together again and in each-other's arms I fell asleep, warm, comfortable and content after a miserable drive home.

We spoke the next couple of nights, him talking about the how much he was looking forward to coming south, and spending every night with me. The loving chat was as good as the phone sex we'd had the week before, and each night I slept soundly.

He had told me that he wouldn't ring me the next night as he was being taken out for drinks and a curry the next night by his colleagues, so I had an early night for once and slept like a log.

The middle weekend came and I worked through the Saturday at a school event; much as I tried to get out of it, as Deputy headteacher I was duty bound to be there and help with what was ostensibly a fund raiser. That night I went out with the girls and we had a few drinks and danced. At one stage I was propositioned by a really fit looking bloke and six months before I would have given him the phone number he asked for. My girls all looked at me shocked, as the guy backed away disappointedly.

"What the fuck Elaine," said Caroline, another school teacher, "he was fucking gorgeous!"

"Not for me sweetie," I said, trying to hide any wistfulness in my demeanour that might give away my lack of desire for anyone else.

"Elaine Barnes!" said Judith once a school teacher, now a police officer, "you're in love with someone!"

My face flushed as I knew it would.

I had two choices, deny everything to my girls that had known me through years of trials and tribulations and any number of boyfriends or run with the half-truth I'd been running through my head for the last three months.

I went with the half-truth, after all once Tim moved in they would all meet him, and none of them had met him before or knew he was actually my brother.

"OK, OK," I said, "if you must know, there is someone I'm seeing at the moment, and it's getting a bit serious actually."

There was a drunken chorus of 'oooohh's from them and I was pushed back to our corner seat to spill the beans.

'Tim' was a guy I'd met in Manchester shortly before Mum died. He, like me, came from an unloving parent and we just clicked, and we supported each other through some difficult times. I talked about some days out we had, making love in his mother's house while she was trapped downstairs because of a broken stair lift, and fucking in the garden. I finally added the whole romantic dinner and dance at the end and they cooed just as I knew they would. He was selling his house in Manchester and would be moving in with me at some stage and they were all bound to meet him soon.

"Moving IN?" they all burst out.

"Yes moving in," I said, "I think this is the one." They all cooed again.

"What about your weird brother," said Judith, "Is he staying on in Manchester?"

"My weird brother," I said tutting, "I haven't seen him in six months, saw a bit of him when Mum died," I said remembering Tim's sadness at her passing, "but to be honest I hardly know him anymore. Yes," I said raising my glass, "he's definitely staying in Manchester!"

When I got home I phoned him drunkenly and told him about my double meaning conversation I'd had with the girls and he giggled. He too had gone out for a last drink with some mates and was giggly. We continued our chat and firmed up on the story getting it locked in our heads, and although drunk we added a few bits before blowing noisy kisses down the phone and signing off.

Amazingly I remembered all of it and thought about how best to spread the word so that Tim's entry into my life would be slow and not raise suspicion. I would begin to tell mates at work about the boyfriend from Manchester and let them add their own thoughts to why I would go to Manchester so often to visit a parent and a sibling I didn't really like. It worked perfectly.

On the Thursday before the Friday I was due to go get him he'd left message on my answer phone when I got back from work the next day again said that I shouldn't wait up for a call that night either. Probably a final piss-up with his mates, although I didn't think he had that many.

So I was most surprised when my door was soundly knocked at a little after eleven o'clock on that Thursday night – I peeked out of my bedroom window and saw a large transit camper van pulled onto the bottom of my drive and I recognised the distinctive colour of his mattress in the back of it. I looked again and my insides gave a leap when I saw the blue hoodie I'd bought him two weeks back and his smiling face waving up to my bedroom window.

I ran downstairs, pausing only to put on a pair of knickers and a dressing gown, he must have had someone drive him after all. I opened the door and pulled him in hugging him, really surprised and really happy to see my brother and lover.

"Where's..." I said, looking around for another person, perhaps Ronnie had gone and got him.

He reached into his back pocket and brought out his brand new green and pink driver's license,

"There," he said, "licensed to drive cars, vans and women mad," he said, and pointing over his shoulder, "and that is a bit of a bargain I picked up from the people buying the house. Ford Transit Motor home, two years old, all the mod con's and part payment for the house. I passed my driving test ten days ago and have been waiting to surprise you by driving down." He held my hand and walked me across to the RV still almost naked, "large double bed in the back," he said, "More than enough room for a pair of lovers to get to know each other better in the countryside."

"Oh Tim," I said, forgetting any audience I might have, including the neighbour that had met 'my brother Tim'. "Oh it's wonderful! It's wonderful to see you!"

"I couldn't wait any longer," he said holding me, tight in his arms, "and what's more I'm taking you away for the weekend!" he grinned.

"The house?"

"Sold baby," he said confidently, "we have this motorhome and the cheque for the other seventy five grand should be clearing in the bank on Monday."

I put my arms around his neck and kissed him, such was my joy at seeing him and in his news. It turned out that he'd bought the house for fifty two thousand and in the housing boom the value had gone up by twenty thousand. He just wanted a quick sale and had no chain, so jumped at the chance presented by the young 'first time buyer' couple that wanted a big place like his.

"Well, my rich, big dicked man," I whispered, "before you take me away for the weekend you should take me upstairs, take my panties and dressing gown off and take me from behind."

"Thought you'd never ask," he said and locking the front door with my key took me by the hand and led me to OUR bedroom. In the room he found an extra chest of drawers with the first of his clothes, his suits and posh shirts and trousers hanging in my wardrobe. His socks and boxers were in a small bedside table on HIS side of the bed. We have only not shared a bedroom a couple of times since.

As instructed he stripped me of my panties and dressing gown and instructed me to assume the position on the bed. He fucked me, long hard and fast causing me to orgasm, before feeling him pump his sperm into my womb.

"Another cherry gone," he said, "Our first fuck in your house."

I giggled and smiled back over my shoulder to him. I didn't think he needed to know that he wasn't MY first fuck in this house, but I got the point. We'd set the precedent!

"Wrong Tim," I said, leaning forward to pull myself off of his softening cock, "Our first fuck..." I flipped onto my back and pulled him down over me, "in OUR house," we kissed and got to know each other again, before going downstairs for supper, naked and loving it.

We sat in the kitchen chatting and giggling, both finally realising that we were free and this was a totally new start and we could write our own story from this point.

We had decided not to embroider our story too much as there were a few people in our lives that knew the truth and knew some of the people we knew.

So we kept it simple and as we had already discussed.

I stood, stretched and raised up on my toes making my tits stick out and my bottom to raise. Tim growled at my display and I tutted him and moved to the dishwasher to load the few plates bowls and cups we'd used. I bent over to load, knowing that my arse was on display to him with it's hidden delights between it's cheeks.

Knowing his mind by now I slammed the door shut ready to stand and make for the bedroom and round two. Tim wasn't having that though.

Before I knew it I had been propelled sideways and was bent over the kitchen table.

"Why Tim Barnes, what ARE you do..."

The coldness at my anus let me know precisely what he was doing.

While I was bent forward he had opened the tiny cupboard that held my asprin, ibruprofen, plasters and... you guessed it, oils and creams.

What I had felt was a large glob of petroleum jelly pushed past the initial defence of my anal sphincter. He'd done this before of course I knew what I was to expect so relaxed my warm body against the cold oak of my table.

Finally after a few tense moments of expectation I felt his large expertly wielded penis press at my anus, and I heard the table squeak as he fucked me into it. Laying under him I could do nothing but lay there and let him do what he wanted to me.

I was getting fucked in my arse, and I lay my hands on my buttocks spreading them slightly to allow him further and deeper access into my bowels. His mastery of me was now complete; ten years ago if my lover had grabbed me and flopped me over my own kitchen table and lubed me up with my own vaseline I'd have screamed rape and have fought him off.

But here, this formerly mousey, squeaky man two years my junior had been raised and tutored by me

in his sexual awakening and I realised I'd created not a monster, but a master. I didn't want him to tie me up or beat me, but I did want to grab me and take me!

That was precisely what he was doing now.

It transpired that he'd got the nerve to go and buy pornography; he'd bought magazines, story books, The Joy of Sex, even some videos. Having read or watched a selection of porn he'd completed his own sexual education in the time we'd been apart.

Previously I'd led our adventures, but as he grew in confidence he started to become the man and resented my pushing him around - just as I wanted him to and the real reason I'd tried pushing him around in the first place.

We loved each other just as much but I knew that I'd created the perfect lover.

After a good five minutes of fucking my arse over the kitchen table, something he'd seen in a porno film he was getting to the point of no return and I finally felt his hot come squirt into me. He withdrew from me, gently stroking my back and helping me back to my feet, where he put his arms around me and pulled me into him for a long kiss and cuddle.

Like I said, the perfect lover.

"Cherry number two," he whispered into my ear and I fell to kissing him again.

Next morning by way of a 'welcome to your new home and thanks for fucking me rigid' I brought him breakfast in bed as I woke and switched off my alarm before it went off. I had to work for a few weeks before the up the end of the summer term, and I handed him the manila envelope that arrived two days before and had the invitation to interview for the grammar school job in at the end of the next week.

He drank his tea and ate his toast as I dressed ready for school with him making complimentary comments about my body and how great it was to wake up next to it.

"So how many times did you have to take your driving test," I said, sat in just my skinny knickers at my dressing table and applying eye make-up.

He looked embarrassed,

"Second time," he grinned, "failed the first time on 'undue hesitancy' – I wasn't fast enough."

I turned and flashed my boobs at him,

"That's the very last thing I'd accuse you of," I said and he growled back to me, bare-chested above the covering sheet. He drank the last of his tea and put his mug down and his hands behind his head.

I put on my bra, pulled on my T-shirt, and slipped into my skirt and zipped it and I kissed him goodbye, hoping that I wouldn't have too much of a skip in my step at work and it wouldn't be too obvious that I got a good healthy sorting-out last night.

We took to life together almost without noticing, when I got home it was to find that he had loaded the washing machine, the dishwasher, ironed a whole pile of clean laundry, and prepared grilled chicken breast, with baked potatoes and a salad.

I was looking forward to a night in front of the TV and a long kissing session, but as soon as I'd eaten my dinner, he was pushing me towards the front door and I remembered that we were going away for the weekend!

For the first time I got into the passenger seat and Tim drove. He was still a bit green, crunched the gears a few times and was a bit slow pulling away and nervous in traffic but I relaxed quickly, and two hours later, just as the sun began to set, we arrived in the New Forest.