A New Georgy-Girl

I stared at her, caught but confused, and Georgy nudged me, smiling that million-kilowatt smile of hers. As she slid closer to me I realised she was still naked, and my brain did a complete 360 and came in for a perfect three-point landing; if she wasn't worried, did I need to be?

Obviously not, said my brain, which means you're not going to die, not yet; yes, you're naked, in bed, with your just as naked sister, and yet no-one's trying to kill you, this is good, this is very good, this might turn out okay...

"Umm, yes?" I ventured, and was encouraged by once again that calm smile and reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"There you go, that's better." She murmured.

"So Will, you're probably wondering why I'm not laying into you with a broom-handle, yes?" smiled Aunt Kay, and I nodded, because honestly that had been what I was waiting for.

"The thing is, Will, I knew this was going to happen eventually." My ears pricked up as she continued.

"Georgy and I had this out a long time ago, just a few days after you left for Sandhurst. She talked to me because there was no way she could go to your mother or her poor father with it, so I was 'it'. It has to do with you, Will, so please just listen, can you do that?"

I was puzzled and intrigued, so I just nodded so she would continue.

Will... Tyler, you love you sister, don't you?" she asked me, making me blink at the sudden tangent she'd gone off on. I grinned, uncomfortably aware of just how naked said sister was right now, and how closely she was moulded to me.

"Aunt Kay, I love Georgy, and you, more than anything in the world, you know that."

Aunt Kay smiled and patted my knee.

"I know, Willie, but when Georgy told me it was because she didn't know where else to turn. I know you think you know how upset she was when you left, but it was more than that, much more."

I cocked an eye at her, wondering what she was getting at. She gazed at me and sighed.

"Will, Georgy told me how she felt about... about you, how she'd always felt about you, and not just because you were her big brother, do you understand me Will?"

Suddenly I did, and I was absolutely floored. Georgy? Me? What?

Aunt Kay absently folded the sheets back over my shoulder as she talked.

"Now do you understand why I'm not beating seven-bells out of you? I told her back then that she was too young, that she would have to wait, and someday meet a nice boy, someone it was okay to have those feelings for, that things would take their course, and she'd settle down with someone who loved her and would look after her, the usual."

She paused to once again tidy my bedcovers, like I was a little boy again and she was tucking me in...

"I told her all that, and I didn't believe a word of it, because I knew along where it was going; I could see from the time she was small how her eyes would follow you, how her expression would change whenever you came in the room, how her eyes would literally light up every time you spoke to her, how delighted she was when you'd play with her, and how much she treasured her time with you. She was your baby sister, but you were always so much more than just her big brother."

Her eyes were suddenly soft-focus, blurry, as recall hit her.

"When you went to Sandhurst it was a tough time for all of us; poor Georgy cried constantly, her best friend was gone, and she was alone here, and then her father's passing, and you going off to that dreadful place, all the best and most dependable things in her life gone forever or in mortal danger. You'll never know how she must have felt, watching the news reports, seeing those poor soldiers' funeral cortèges being driven through Wooten Basset every day and waiting to hear your name listed as one of the fallen. Your letters home were so heavily censored they were just "hello-goodbye", everything else was taken out. Not knowing where or how you were, what you were doing, how much danger you were in, just the news reports on TV to let us know you weren't dead, almost destroyed your mother and me, but it was worse for Georgy."

A light suddenly went on in my head as all the little things over the years, the little touches, and smiles, and wistful little gestures came together, and there was Georgy in the centre of it all, every part of my life revolving around her, the one real constant in my life.

Georgy chose that moment to hug me tightly.

"She not lying, Ty; losing you for eight years, just the occasional weekend when I could have you back and pretend you were home with me, and then going off to that war; waiting every day for a Military Policeman to show up carrying that brown envelope almost killed me. Mummy had it worse; she knew that a Queen's officer leads from the front, she knew that from daddy, from your daddy too, that you were always in the most danger."

She wiped her eyes against my arm,

"We prayed and prayed to have you come home safe, but we knew, even if we didn't dare say it out loud, that you were probably going to die because you were your men's leader and you were always a target. Please don't ever leave me again, or send me away, this is where I belong, and I can't go through that again."

I kissed her without even thinking, it just seemed so much the right thing to do just then because she was right, and I finally saw it; Georgy and I had been the most important things in each other's lives our whole lives; I recalled how annoyed (no, Tyler, let's face it, you were jealous, sick jealous, call a spade a spade, why don't you?) I always seemed to get whenever I saw a boy trying to get with her, or make her notice him. Now I knew why; because she was mine, she'd always been mine; I just never put the pieces together. That realisation hit me like a hammer-blow, and with that came resolve; she was mine, she'd always been mine, and for the first time I could finally admit that to myself.

"Are you crazy?" I murmured, astonished at my finally-admitted need for her, "How could I ever do that? Now I know, how could I ever walk away from you? I don't know how this is going to work, I don't know how we're going to get away with it, but I don't care; I'm just glad I finally know, so we'll do this, we'll make it work and see what happens, agreed?"

Georgy gave me that smile that I suddenly realised had always been one of my most favorite things in the world, and I knew we were okay. Aunt Kay squeezed my shoulder and rose, smoothing down the covers as she did so.

"Breakfast in an hour, sweeties, don't be late!" she tossed over her shoulder as she left the room, leaving Georgy and me staring at each other.

"So, Ty, what's next?" grinned Georgy, her smile turning into a full-fledged dirty grin when I slid my hands down her smooth flanks and squeezed her lovely, squeezable bottom.

"Three guesses, Tinkerbell!" I leered, nibble-kissing her throat and neck and watching her nipples 'pop' out, so I thought I'd nibble on those, too.

"Oooh yesss... " she murmured, squirming delightfully as I gently sucked and lashed those nubs with my tongue-tip, before sliding back up to kiss her properly while she fondled my ever-hardening erection.

We kissed and explored for a while, fondling and touching, rubbing and squeezing, ramping each other up and getting ready to go there again, until finally Georgy broke our kissing to grin naughtily at me.

"Last night we did it to make it easy on me, and it was nice, Willie, it was great, but now show me how naughty soldier-boys do it, Will; do naughty things to me, I dare you!" she murmured huskily.

To hear was to obey, especially as my cock was so hard you could cut teak with it; she definitely needed to feel the power of Tyler Wilmot in all its glory!

To watch her expression as I s-l-o-o-o-w-l-y eased inside her was almost more than I could bear, and she looked like what she was feeling was not pain, but what seemed like savage pleasure; the way her lip was caught between her teeth made me want to just plunge into her but I didn't; this was Georgy, my Georgy, not some tart I'd picked up in a pub!

I tried easing into her, after all, this was still so new to her, but she was having none of it, and as I tried to make it slow, she slammed her hips up at me, taking me in all at once!

Her eyes bugged open, and her jaw dropped in a silent scream as once again I invaded her, but this time there was nothing tentative about it as I slid in to the hilt. I held her close as she went limp under me, wondering what was next, when her eyes opened and she grinned weakly at me.

"Daddy always said... the way to grasp the nettle... is firmly!" she gasped, before pulling me down so she could kiss me.

I waited until that 'shocked' look disappeared before moving, but even that small movement made her eyes fly open.

"Oh God yes, like that Willie, oh yess... oh yess!" she chanted, and as I slowly got into my stride, she moved against me, in time with me, obviously enjoying the whole experience.

"Never...never thought...it would...be like this," she panted, instinctively bucking her hips up to meet me as I thrust into her, her movements building as she neared her climax. I was in no better state; I could feel myself approaching too, and there was no way I could hold it back.

When she came, it was with thunderbolt intensity; she simultaneously screamed out my name and bit my shoulder as her hot pussy clenched and rippled around me, squeezing me and setting me off. I lost it, a bolt of spunk rocketed out of me so hard it actually hurt, hosing inside her in what felt like endless torrents as I came, and came, the muscular ripples of her convulsing pussy milking every last drop out of me.

I slumped down, just enough presence of mind left to roll away from her so I didn't crush her, to lie prone, exhausted next to her, my muscles trembling and fluttering in reaction as the last throes of my gigantic climax died away. Georgy was in no better shape, her perspiration drenched forehead and beaded upper lip, and her heaving chest and flushed complexion obvious outward signs of the strain and stress of our lovemaking.

She turned her head and opened her beautiful eyes, a small tear twinkling in the corner of her eye even as she smiled at me. I reached out and gently collected that small tear on my fingertip, and she kissed my fingertip in response.

"Don't cry, Georgy-Girl!" I teased her, and she rolled over to face me and stroke my arm.

"Not crying, Will, just happy, that's all!" she whispered, blowing me a kiss. Even in my state of almost total exhausted collapse I had to reach out and slip my hand down her arm, around her smooth hip and down her perfect flank to cup her delectable buttock, giving the firm flesh a loving squeeze and jiggle.

She slid closer to me so I could hold her properly, and our lips found each other quite naturally, and we kissed, gently, lovingly, not to arouse or inflame, but just so we could remake our connection after that awesome mutual climax.

We hugged each other in silence, content to just hold, and feel, and gently kiss; if we had stayed there in that perfect afterglow for the rest of the day it would have been fine by me. I really didn't want to move, to break this connection, this perfect moment we were sharing, to do or be anything but entirely hers, and she would be entirely mine because I selfishly didn't want to let go of any part of her for any reason.

Reality, however, has a way of ending perfect moments, and right then was no exception.

"Will, come on, let's go, upsy-daisy!" she murmured, slapping me lightly on my behind. "Aunt Kay's making breakfast and we need a shower, come on soldier, out of your pit!"

I really didn't want to leave my nice warm bed and my nice soft Georgy, but she was right, time for a shower. As she bounced off the bed she giggled.

"Oh ewww, how much of that stuff did you put in me? Gross, Will, looks like you'll just HAVE to marry me now, Mr. Wilmot, doing things like this to me, how can I ever show my face in church ever again? You men, you're all the same, I don't know!"

At that point she shrieked because I'd dragged her back to the bed so I could kiss and tickle her.

"Stoppit, stoppit, no Will, don't, stoppit, stoppit!" she giggled as I hit all her ticklish spots, keeping going until she promised to behave. As she was lying on my bed looking up at me and looking particularly appealing I stopped, but she had to kiss me as a forfeit, which she did.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it Miss Lassiter? Now, if you'll agree to marry me, I might let you go..."

Georgy looked adorably thoughtful for a moment, her face screwed up in bogus contemplation before unleashing that sun-bright smile of her.

"Oh, okay, if you insist, but only if I'm not busy, mind you; I may need to wash my hair or do my nails that day, after all, Mr. Wilmot, I cannot stress how important personal grooming is...no, Will, no, don't you dare, I mean it stoppit Will, stoppit, no, no, no stoppit, I hate you, okay, okay, you win, yes, yes I'll marry you, there, happy?"

I have such persuasive ways, sometimes, and Georgy has such a delightful laugh...

*****

We shared the shower because it saved time, and just because, period. Watching a naked and wet Georgy squirming around under the showerhead as I soaped her down seriously made me want to forget breakfast and just go for round two, but Aunt Kay had gone to so much trouble, so I reluctantly stripped the soap from my body, grabbed a couple of free squeezes of naked wet girl, and stepped out of the shower.

Of course, watching her marvellous body shiver and shimmy as she dried off didn't help either, but self-restraint won out, and we shrugged on some sweats and deck shoes and headed down to breakfast.

Aunt Kay didn't say a word about the earlier 'naked in bed with Georgy' thing, she didn't have to, the amount of blushing going on at the table was enough, but we got through the meal without any major mishaps, clearing the way for a couple of things I wanted to discuss with my family, namely a way to get some working capital until the courts had finished their trawl though our various trusts and inheritances.

While I had slept, the part of me deep down inside that did the real thinking had come up with a possible solution to one of our problems: my major house restoration project, and maybe making a profit out of it.

As the house stood, it was unsellable; no developers would be interested in half-derelict listed properties; the cost to them for a quick fix to try and meet the Listing requirements and then hope to resell at a meaningful profit was just too high: no-one would be prepared to risk that much on a maybe.

But a fully renovated, Grade Two listed property was a different story altogether, especially with the nouveau riche day-trading millionaires and tech entrepreneurs who were desperate to live in grand, historic, properties that fit their aspirations to be seen as the new aristocracy. A fully modernised, listed country dwelling could be exactly what they were looking for, it would fit their image of themselves, and we just happened to have one waiting to be cleaned-up, tricked-out, and paraded for the right bank account to come along and snap it up.

I ran the idea past Georgy and she saw right away what I meant; the house had cost me all my savings plus a hefty advance against the family trust fund from mother to get the initial tear-down and renovation started, but, given the size and potential of the building, the reality was the house was still only bought for a song. Now we had ready cash on hand to pay for the renovation and bring the house up to sellable condition in double quick time.

Georgy immediately got that one had to speculate in order to accumulate, and we had the perfect asset just sitting and waiting to be prepped and sold for as much as we could get for it. Time to start plotting.

Getting the whole plan up and running was laughably simple; we already had the house, there was no mortgage-lender hovering around waiting for their money, and my biggest asset was Georgy, who turned out to have a natural flair for project management that was almost eerie to watch. She could match and juggle figures and timescales in her head that I couldn't follow on a spreadsheet, and she was the one who made deals with suppliers and building tradesmen, kept an eye on the costs, and estimated supplies and finishes down to the last detail.

Best of all, she was the one who kept me believing we were doing the right thing, and kept me going when I flagged and started to doubt my sanity over getting this whole thing started in the first place.

The fact she also looked fucking sexy in painter's bib overalls helped in no small way to keep me battened down and eager for the work-day.

*****

It wasn't all work and no play, though; Georgy is a sexy, vibrant girl, with a wonderful sense of humour I found it easy to provoke, and our evenings together were warm and enjoyable, no angst from the day, just a warm feeling of a job well done, with the one we loved most doing it with us. I'd always loved Georgy, and I'd finally come to the realisation I was in love with her, but the more time I spent with her the more I realised I was falling even deeper in love with her. It wasn't just sex, either; it was more than that, it was a connection that strengthened and deepened every day, the certainty in my heart that she was what my world was made for.

Georgy seemed to feel the way I did, too; I'd be working away at the chop-saw, cutting timber battens, and I'd glance up to see her looking at me, that sunny smile of hers lighting up the room, and I'd smile back because she'd just made my day. Or I'd be poring over a drawing, marking out changes, and she'd walk past and bump me with her hip, grin, and take the pencil, make a correction, and kiss me on the cheek and go on about her business.

We never argued, it felt wrong, unsettling to even think about disputing even the most trivial things with her, as it had all our life, now that I thought about it: rack my brains though I did, I couldn't recall any except the most trivial of disagreements with her, ever, we just connected so deeply that everything we did or thought resonated with the other and felt like the right thing for us.

It was a strange, but deeply satisfying way to be; it was our way.

Aunt Kay never once made any comment about our newly-realised relationship; she could see we were happy, that all was well in our world, so she'd be happy for us, that enigmatic smile of hers telling us all we needed to know about how she felt.

Even Georgy sitting curled up on my lap nibbling my neck with her hand inside my shirt massaging my lats after a long day with the flooring contractor mixing and levelling screed drew no comment from her, she knew we weren't disrespecting her; Georgy was just helping me relax and work the stiffness out of overstretched muscles.

Weekends, though, were family time. When Saturday rolled around we downed tools and had some family fun, whether a trip to the cinema and dinner, or an evening in the pub, or a night at the Comedy Club in town, anything Georgy or Aunt Kay wanted to do. Even though we were caught up in this project to try and level our finances a little, we still needed to make time to remember we were first and foremost a family and needed to do family things every so often.

When we arrived back home Aunt Kay would kiss us both goodnight, and I could take Georgy off to our room to explore her state of undress under her frock, and she almost always surprised me with something new to raise my internal temperature!

One Saturday night had been a perfect example, one I wouldn't forget for a long time.

We'd taken Aunt Kay to a new Indian restaurant in town, and then out for a few drinks at a wine bar we knew. After a couple of glasses of wine she said she was tired, but that we should go dancing, we needed the break, so we put her in a cab, and headed out to a new club to try out the dance floor. The club was great fun, a good mix of contemporary and classic pop and dance music, with a dimly-lit, smoochy and low-key kind of background vibe going for it; it definitely wasn't a frantic, up to the minute, "let's rave" kind of dance-club, it seemed slightly more sedate than that.