A Love Filled Longing

Author's Note: This is a fictional story that involves consenting siblings in their 30s who pursue a sexual relationship. If incest rubs you the wrong way, I suggest skipping this story. For those who stay, you'll find the sex is fairly vanilla but the emotions are anything but.

PROLOGUE

I was a rambunctious, high energy child. Somewhat of a whirlwind. I never stopped talking. My parents later told me that the quietest they'd ever seen me was when they brought my baby sister home from the hospital. I was 4 years old and after I touched her tiny hands and feet, I barely spoke for a week. I like to think that's because I knew what they'd given me was truly special. She turned out to be my lucky star and ally. Growing up, we had our own interests and friends but we were always friendly and supportive. The one year we went to the same high school, she'd come to my basketball games and cheer loudly. I liked having her there, yelling "Go, Ian!" from the bleachers. I never identified with guys on the team who were embarrassed by the mere existence of their younger siblings. Sure, Rachel and I sometimes annoyed one another but the fallout never lasted.

Years went by and distance came between us. We went to different universities and started our careers in different states, but we would always talk on the phone a few times a month and see each other for major holidays. I was concerned about her being so far away, but my sister has an independent streak. She valued the freedom and privacy that came with living away from where we grew up. From afar I watched her come into her adult self. Confident and competent, she climbed the ranks at her firm and became one of their top performers. Clients and co-workers alike clamored to be assigned to her team. I once visited her and watched her deliver an internal presentation to her department. It was a scene to behold. Her stage presence and depth of knowledge were on full display. All fifty pairs of eyes in the room were glued to her. I was so proud of her.

Not too long after that, my wife and I found out we were expecting our first child. She gave birth to our son and I felt as if my life was complete. However, fate had something completely different in store. Right after Jude was born, things between my wife and I went off the rails. We stopped talking and she moved out, leaving Jude and me behind. We'd have epic fights whenever we tried to reconcile. Both of us recognized our deep incompatibility. Long story short, her exterior was a shell that hid a very different person. No amount of counseling could save the marriage and we reached the end of the road fast. I filed for divorce and gave up nearly everything so I could win custody of our son.

At this point my sister had already put in for a transfer at work and moved to the city where we now live. I remember she called me every day to make sure that I had someone to talk to. I spent god knows how many hours on her sofa, pouring my heart out. Sometimes, I'd openly weep. Believe it or not, those were the better times. The worst times were when I was numb and couldn't feel a damn thing. Rach would sit with me in silence, holding my hand. Sometimes I'd rest my head in her lap. One cold afternoon close to Christmas, she sang to me, Angels We Have Heard on High. It was as sweet as it sounds and her soft, mellow rendition became my favorite version of the song. All of this to say, she was there for me without any judgment. My sister is someone who shows her love very precisely, in the exact way you need it in any given moment. Being loved by Rachel is a constantly astonishing gift. She anchored me to her goodness, with her voice and with her touch. I gained a new appreciation for her over those rough months of my divorce.

While the past couple of years have been tough, there's been a silver lining. I love being a dad and everyone tells me Jude is an easy baby, now toddler. He brings me so much joy and purpose. I realized the family unit I thought I lost had simply changed its shape. Rachel started increasing the time she spent at my house. I'd be lying if I said it was me and not Jude who was the main draw. We became a tight trio, spending lots of weeknights and almost every weekend together. She kept her apartment, of course, but she spent less and less time there. When we'd go out for brunch with Jude or if she and I went to a show or concert together, those around us just assumed that Jude was our son and that we were together. We rarely bothered to correct anyone. The time we spent became like a refuge from the outside world, even more so this year. Whenever stress or something unpredictable struck, we had each other. I found something comforting in that thought.

Another positive development is the performance of my fin-tech software business. It's relatively new, but sales & profit soared unexpectedly over the past year. A few months ago, when the pandemic hit and the entire world panicked, I managed to not just stay afloat but actually acquire more clients. Big clients. My sister was instrumental during this, in fact, more than ever. With her background in financial services, she worked with my bookkeeper to audit several of our accounts and put us in an even better cash flow position. Due to our involvement with international payments and foreign currency, I'd found it difficult to hire and retain experienced accounting talent. Rach to the rescue again.

As you can see, I have a lot to be grateful for. I don't take for granted the health of my family, and having a solid way to provide for my son. I admit this year has tested the bounds of my limited patience like never before. I'm the sort of person who almost always has a plan, which is why I don't react well when something throws me off course. When that happens, I deal with it in one of two ways. Option one, I ignore it. If it's insignificant enough, it will go away and I can easily jump back on plan. If that doesn't work or I don't feel like waiting, I go to option two, which is to remove the obstacle. It might sound brutish, but it's effective for me. I can't think of a single situation in my adult life where I haven't been able to apply one of these options. That is, until this summer.

It was a Saturday and I'd been in meetings all day, locked in my study. Rachel had Jude all to herself, something she sought routinely. I guess they'd been playing in the pool for awhile because he'd fallen asleep reclined against her on a lounge chair. She had a towel draped over him to keep him warm while he slept. It was large enough to cover them both. When I stepped out to the deck, I saw that Rachel looked pretty sleepy herself. I offered to relieve her, but she rejected that out of hand. In fairness, neither of us is known for handing over a warm, sleepy toddler. You take all the snuggles you can get.

There were rain clouds rolling in, so she wanted to come inside anyway. She stood up, still holding Jude. The towel that was covering them fell to the ground and I got a good look at her bikini clad body. I hadn't seen my sister in a bathing suit since we were kids, probably on some family vacation. There was nothing to prepare me for the sight of this adult version of her nearly naked figure, all lean muscle and feminine curves. She breezed right past me like it was nothing, which it was...or, should have been. I trailed behind her, unable to take my eyes off her curvy butt, supported by firm thighs that flexed as she moved. Her skin is beautiful, the perfect caramel shade. I distinctly remember imagining what it would feel like to hug her right then and touch every inch of her exposed body.

It was her disappearing from my view into the house that forced me to get a hold of myself. I scanned my thoughts and realized I was disturbed that I'd just objectified her. My heart was pounding. I felt I'd betrayed her somehow. She'd been nothing but kind and supportive towards me for as long as I could remember. My son was in her arms, for Christ's sake. She should be able to wear whatever the hell she wants without me reacting this way. Without my own mind taking me off plan. I had very few options from here. I couldn't ignore her, we were too close for that. And I couldn't remove her from my life either. What's for certain though, is that the veil of my immunity to her attractiveness had suddenly lifted and I didn't know how to pull it back down.

* * * * *

After the long glimpse of Rachel in her swimsuit, I retreated to my study. Even though my work for the day was finished, I needed to take cover and regroup. I was trying to sort out whether I was genuinely attracted to her or if I'd simply let a natural reaction get to me more than it should. I'd always found my sister beautiful, in the same way I appreciated the beauty of a sunset or a flower. There's nothing sexual about it, you're just glad it exists. If anything, I'd been more protective of her for it. So what was...this? Maybe nothing. Certainly, I wasn't the first man to do a double take at her looks.

I served myself a generous pour from the decanter of whiskey on my bookcase. The burn was just the right distraction. My mind was starting to settle when Rach knocked on the door. When she came in, I was so relieved. For one, I was happy to see her. It was the first time all day she hadn't been chasing Jude and I hadn't been working. Fortunately, she'd changed into regular clothes. Even better, she didn't seem to have any inkling of my inner turmoil or what had caused it.

"Work, work, work...You've been so busy lately," she said. My guard went up right away. Rach was the only person in my life brave enough to comment on my intense work habits. My contentious responses had long ago silenced the rest of my friends and family.

"Yeah, it's this client...err, soon to be client. There's no one to close them but me." I leaned back in my chair and forced myself to unclench my jaw.

Rachel approached my desk and her gaze flicked to the glass in my hand then back up to meet my eyes.

"Jude?" I asked her.

"In bed," she answered, "he looks just like you when he sleeps."

We both smiled at that.

"You need a break, Ian," she said abruptly.

Here we go.

"Rach," I sighed, "that's impossible right now. I can't take a vacation with everything going on."

"I don't mean seven days in the South Pacific," she said, determined, "but a day or two unplugged would do you good. And Jude would love to spend time with mom and dad."

I shook my head as she walked to my chair and stood over me. I was in no mood to be lectured.

"Look, if this is about you wanting some time away from helping me with Jude just say that," I fired back. I was irritated that she'd hit a nerve and I did a poor job of hiding it. I immediately regretted my retort and said I was sorry.

"How am I supposed to pull this off?" On its face, it sounded like I was talking about squeezing in a couple days off. But we both knew it was deeper than that.

Rachel just stared at me, undeterred. Her lack of reaction to the edge in my tone drove home her point.

"Pick a day and let me know." She took the whiskey from my hand and gulped down what was left.

"You're in this for the long-haul. Two days off will only matter if you don't take them," she said as she handed me the empty glass.

She was set to leave for her place so I walked her to the door and watched her climb into her car. We hugged like we always did when coming and going. I held on a little longer than usual and carefully let go when I realized I was embracing her the way I'd envisioned out on the deck. She kissed my cheek before telling me to get some rest. I wasn't ready for her to leave but she'd already been at my house since early that morning and I felt I'd been too much of an ass to ask more of her.

I went back inside and made a beeline for the kitchen. In the fridge I found several containers filled with stuff Rachel must have cooked while I was working. I didn't know how she made the time. Jude had been a handful that day and I knew from experience that getting anything done aside from keeping him in one piece could be a major challenge. Somehow she'd made enough risotto and what looked like flank steak to last me a few days. She'd even made a batch of my favorite chimichurri sauce and labeled it Ian's Chimi.

I'm not overly sentimental but the sight of her handwriting tugged at me in a way that made my chest feel tight. I stood staring into the fridge until the tightness subsided and then I pulled my phone out of my pocket to text my sister.

Thank you for everything today. Sorry I was grumpy. Dinner looks so good!

After I ate, I sent a follow up text.

Dinner was* so good!

She texted me back several minutes later, probably just as she was getting home.

Welcome! No worries. Love u.

I knew her love for me was genuine and I loved her too. I thought about how much she meant to me and to Jude. I decided I needed to show her more often that I appreciated her. The only thing is I wasn't sure how. Maybe a good place to start would be to not bite her head off for looking out for me. And yeah, I'd work on deleting the reel of her bikini walk from my mind. Just a few more replays, and I was sure it would be out of my system.

* * * * *

I ended up selecting a long weekend at the end of June to "pick a day" as Rachel had put it. It was 3 weeks out and when I called to tell her she responded enthusiastically.

"Ian, that's great! Anything in particular you want to do?"

"Honestly, no. A lack of plans sounds amazing," I told her. What I didn't tell her was that I was constantly exhausted and had been for a couple months. If I could make it through everything the next three weeks held- two client onboardings, a mid year financial review with my CPA, and lots of late nights and early mornings, then I'd probably want to sleep the entire time.

Rachel said to leave everything to her. She put in for that Friday off from work and coordinated Jude's care with our parents.

In the interim, she came by the house as usual. I hardly had to think about laundry or meals for myself or for Jude. She saw how consumed I was with work and didn't flinch at everything else that needed doing. It also helped that the deposits came through for those two new clients on back to back days. Seeing that many digits in my receivables account put a spring in my step and eased my apprehension about enjoying some overdue time off. When I showed Rachel, she fist pumped her approval. It reminded me of back in the day when she'd cheer from the front row during my basketball games. Instead of a trip to the drive through like we would have done back then, Rachel took my credit card and Jude to Whole Foods. They came home with balloons and a whole organic chicken that she roasted to celebrate. I marveled at how our lives had changed, for the better. I thanked her for her role in making it so.

By the middle of the week prior to vacation, I got really good at erasing all images of Rachel in a bikini from my mind. It was no longer necessary to store any mental snapshots since I saw her in next to nothing all the time. She and Jude made a habit of spending late afternoons in the pool whenever she finished work early enough. From what I could tell, she had three swimsuits, black, blue, and a leopard print one that she wore in an unpredictable rotation. I gave up on anticipating which one she might wear and just enjoyed the view. Coming or going, I could watch her all day.

That was a major thing that changed. I added an option to my sparse toolkit, bringing the total to three. Ignore, remove, embrace. Since I couldn't ignore or remove Rachel, I decided to embrace the obstacle of my admiration of her body. It alleviated some of my guilt and made me feel more in control. I wasn't leering and salivating like I might have done in my twenties. I was making a conscious decision to allow a pleasant obstacle to persist without upsetting myself. Clever, right?

I didn't admit that I wanted anything more than to admire her figure until one evening when she came out to the patio after tucking Jude into bed. The darkening sky was streaked with dramatic pink and purple hues and the chirping of crickets was at its daily high pitch. I'd been decompressing from the day, enjoying the view from a lounge chair when I felt her right behind me.

"Nostalgic summer night, isn't it?" She said.

I nodded in agreement with her. I knew she was thinking about all those summers we spent as kids, riding bikes until dark, playing manhunt with our neighborhood friends, and never tiring of being outside.

Rach stepped alongside me and her legs filled my vision. She was in denim shorts and one of my old button up shirts over the swimsuit she'd worn earlier. Without thinking, I reached out and hooked my arm around the back of her knees to bring her down onto the chair with me. She laughed as she perched herself on the edge.

"You used to steal my clothes back then too," I teased her.

She rolled her eyes at me.

"Your donation pile is fair game." She shrugged as if it couldn't be helped. A few beats of silence passed and then she changed the subject.

"Jude never asks for Sonia."

I met her gaze, unblinking, and said exactly what I was thinking.

"Why would he, when he has you?"

Why would I, when I have you?

Rachel smiled, though she looked a little sad. I guess she would have liked for Jude's mother to play a more active role in his life. For me, it was simpler. If Sonia couldn't get her act together, limited contact was for the better. It was less confusing for Jude and less aggravation for me. Having an aunt as devoted and loving as Rachel was a windfall for everyone. End of story.

"You're more than enough," I softly assured her.

You're everything.

My heart soared when I saw no trace of sadness left in her smile. She readjusted herself on the edge of my chair. I wanted to sit with her longer so I opened my arms, inviting her to rest against me. She dove in, situating her head against my chest. We were both used to massively invading each other's space since forever, but this time held a special sweetness. Lately, I felt I leaned on her heavily whereas she rarely seemed to truly need me. That evening, I was glad to be the source she turned to for reassurance and comfort. It was such a pleasure just to have her in my arms and even better when I realized she'd dozed off.

I couldn't help it, I kissed every part of her that I could reach. The crown of her head, her temple, and the inside of her wrist when I laced my fingers through hers and lifted her hand. I felt tenderly towards her, like she was a sleeping angel taking a break from so much good doing. When the sky darkened and the wind became chill, she hadn't budged. The hush of the evening turned my thoughts to bed and what it would feel like to not only carry Rachel to mine, but to strip her clothes off and make love to her like I'd been pretending I didn't want to do for the past two weeks. Those thoughts felt isolating and forbidden, but I couldn't shake it.

I did carry her to bed, but in the spare bedroom, not my master suite. When I settled her head into the pillows, her arms reflexively tightened around my neck.

She mumbled something when I tried to pull away.

"We're inside, Rach. You're safe," I told her. I knelt at the bedside and gently pried her arms from me.

While she settled, I held her hand. The moonlight made it so that I could clearly see her and how lovely she was. My thoughts turned explicit as my brain recalled how she'd felt in my arms. I got up and left the room when I couldn't stop staring at her lips. I didn't trust myself to control my impulses around her anymore. Short of forcing myself on her, there wasn't anything I wouldn't be willing to do or say to warm her up to the idea of us exploring a physical relationship.