Amy - Day 01 Pt. 01-03

This is my first submission. Please be kind. A lot of build-up in this part with a small payoff in the end. Bigger things to cum..er...come.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to ANYONE is completely coincidental. Anyone who engages in any "activity" is well over the age of 18.

Amy

"Amy, what you wanna do?

I think I could stay with you

For a while, maybe longer if I do"

--From "Amy" by Pure Prairie League

Part One:

I was never close to my family. I never knew why but I just wasn't. I was a "change of life" kid born when my parents were in their 40s. My brothers are both well more than a decade older than I am and for a lot of my life I was treated like I was a huge burden to my brothers.

I can say that yes, my parents loved me and I loved them but there was always a coldness. Even so, as the youngest I could do no wrong in my mother's eyes. Which isn't to say I did no wrong. I just knew how to not get caught. Having a pair of brothers who made a lot of mistakes made it easy for me to learn how to get away with shit. My dad was pretty hands off when I was a kid. Anything that I did do "wrong" was met with a "Don't get caught and embarrass me" by my father. He was a politician and image was everything.

I didn't do anything really bad. Never broke the law or the like. But what I did do I got away with because I knew how to keep my mouth shut.

When I was eight the school figured out there was something different about me. Two psychologists later they figured out I had a genius level IQ. That level of intelligence combined with the average American school system led to a lot of boredom. Boredom led to some antics but as I said: I knew how to keep my mouth shut.

There is no question I grew up privileged. My grandfather was in energy and extremely influential in the northeast. I won't name him, but you can figure it out if you think about it. He passed when I was five and my father parlayed his wealth into an outright fortune.

I'm not trying to brag but I want o be clear on how I grew up. Nothing tragic or out of the ordinary, but there always seemed to be something missing. My friends' families always seemed closer; happier.

Going through elementary school I always was told that high school was harder and nothing like it. Going through high school I was told that college was harder and nothing like high school. I was told right; it was easier! Once I was able to move at my own pace I excelled in ways I never expected.

By the time I hit 18 I was out the door. The first of us since Dad to go to college. He and I became closer as a result. Of the three boys I even looked like Dad. He encouraged me to make my life my own and that's what I focused on.

I walked out of a major university with a Bachelors in Computer Science with a minoring in world history in just over two years. I didn't believe in wasting time.

I went into computer game design right as the market took off in the 90s. I wrote and coded the bestselling "Blade and Bolt" RPG series. Even when the market crashed I had enough in investments that I was always comfortable.

In '93 I met Grace at school. She was an accounting major and destined for a MBA. We fell in love pretty hard and thank God for me. Remember those investments I said I had? All that was set up by Grace. I was awful with money and if it wasn't for her I would have pissed away ever cent I made from "Blade & Bolt."

Grace and I married shortly after my graduation in 1994. We were both 20. Though I was done school she kept going while I went to work. Yeah, we were young. We both took a lot of grief from our families but it didn't matter. I simply answered both families that I knew what I wanted and I wanted as much time with Grace as possible. I simply knew we'd make it work. I had her parents and mine as examples of marriages that worked and we were going to beat the odds and do it!

I am happy to say I was right. As my brothers' marriages soured and died our was rock solid.

By 29 we had two amazing daughters. By 30 my father passed from colon cancer. Yeah..fuck. His passing was a nightmare; none of us were ready. It left a hole that nobody could find a way to patch.

All through my life I had an angry streak. When dad died it threatened to go out of control. My brothers fought over everything, and my mom became strange. She retreated to Florida and rarely, if ever, came home to New York. For the first few years I felt abandoned by her; we all did. Toward the end I felt like she died at the same time Dad did.

We all still loved each other but something was missing. It was around this time I realized I felt that way my entire life. Something was just missing.

In the end life went on and Grace and my girls kept my anger from ever going critical mass. In the end, though, the universe has a nasty way of making sure we know who's boss.

For the next 17 years shit was good. Our daughter grew up. The oldest went to med school and the youngest became a history teacher. Grace & I were empty-nesters by our mid 40s. I had my goal of having as much time with Grace as I possibly could.

American Dream won.

Then came 2020. COVID took my mom in May. Living over 1000 miles away and unable to even see her at the end crippled my brothers. I was numb, though. I had, as I said, felt like she died 17 years earlier when Dad died.

Three months later on August 22, 2020 COVID took Grace from me. Instantly I went from being a happy empty-nester to being alone in a big home.

It wasn't a good time. I took up my mom's family hobby. I started drinking. A lot. The next six months were-well I don't know what they were. I don't remember them at all. If I was sober I was angry. If I was drunk I was angry but I was numb and angry so I went with drunk. From August 2020 to February 2021 was one, long bender.

Spring 2021 my oldest, now an intern, moved home. She and her girlfriend spent months drying me out, taking me to therapy, sitting up with me well into the dark hours of the night. I don't know how I survived. I don't know how they put up with me. But here I am.

Two Years Later:

Here I am sober, working, and carefully following Grace's rules so I don't piss away our hard earned money. In addition to my two daughters I now have a daughter-in-law and a soon to be son-in-law. My youngest is pregnant with my first grandson.

My oldest, Sophie, and her wife Lys stayed with me; I did mention that my home was big, right? I am holding on. A short time ago I developed an interest in genealogy and I even sent my DNA off to one of those websites. My parents always said we were related to George Washington and now I could get proof!

The Friday before Memorial Day found me on a train heading home after a meeting in New York City. The train as hot and uncomfortable. You know: The usual. The more I sweat the more uncomfortable the train became. Hard seats. Body Odor. The works.

I was never so relieved to get to my station and get in my Jeep. I pumped the air as high as it went and sat there for a minute trying to push down my growing irritation I had since leaving Penn Station.

Pulling out of the local station I was immediately lost in the afternoon rush hour traffic. By the time I was out of my little town and on the lane to my house I could feel my pulse in my temples and hear it in my ears. One more stressor and I felt likely that I was going to crack.

For almost thirty years Grace was my release valve. She always knew just what to say and what to do to keep me from losing my shit. Therapy helped but there were days.

"Finally," I said as I pulled into my driveway. I was looking very much forward to sitting in my favorite chair and relaxing. Just a few more feet and into the garage. The universe decided I needed a reminder who was in charge.

There was a car in front of my garage door. A little Chevy Volt that I had never seen before. I figured it was probably one of Sophie's colleagues or friends so I pushed down my irritation. I wasn't going to embarrass the kiddo so I willed myself to remain calm and I parked in the fucking guest spot.

Going inside, preparing myself to be pleasant I entered the living room to see a young woman speaking to Sophie. She was sitting in my chair. My fucking chair. "Well," I thought, "If I burst a blood vessel at least I have a live-in doctor."

"Hi Daddy," my daughter said. She stood up and gave me a hug. Something was bothering her. I could tell; I was her dad.

Mustering my best smile I turned to the young woman and introduced myself. "David Drake. It is nice to meet you."

The young woman stood up and I got my first good look at her. Holy. Shit.

Physically I am no slouch. Yeah, I've put on some weight but even nearing 50 I looked good. Sophie didn't let me slow down. Also the fun of having a doctor living with you. My hair was still thick and dark black even though there was some gray streaks. But let's be clear: I looked good. I could pass for a man in my late 30s. Nobody ever believes I had adult children in their 20s. Nobody ever believed I was about to be a grandfather. But damn, this woman was amazing.

She had hazel eyes that were incredibly expressive. Her nervous smile made her face lok sad, happy, and warm all at same time. I wondered what a real smile would look like. I wanted to see it. Just standing there she looked like a magazine photograph.

The dress she wore hugged a body that can only be described as divine. I was and always will be a breast man and my assessment of hers as B border on C cups. Just perfect.

I know I stared for a few seconds longer than I should have. I shifted my eyes from her breasts to her face as fast as possible. It wouldn't do to be perving on my daughter's friend but damn I felt some stirring down below.

"Daddy," Sophie said, "this is Amy Fries."

"It is very nice to meet you, Amy," I said, falling into the old patters of meeting a kid's friend.

She timidly held out her hand for me to shake which I did as warmly as possible. I have have held her hand a moment too long. Boy was I going to catch hell from Sophie later.

"Are you a friend of Sophie's from the hospital," I prompted, trying to push through the awkward moment.

Sophie coughed nervously and giggled. Oh, shit. When she giggled like that the weird-o-meter of any situation was about to go up.

"I'm going to let you two talk," Sophie said. "Give me a yell if you need me." With that she all but fled from the room.

Just what the living fuck was going on here?

"Well Mr. Drake," Amy began, "Uhm..David. I'm your...I'm your sister."

Part Two

"Bullshit." I was about done with today's adventures. "Please see yourself out." I stood back up and began to turn away.

"Please David. Give me a minute to explain."

"Dad," Sophie said from the kitchen doorway, "You want to listen to this." The "listen from the kitchen doorway trick" was one Grace taught both girls.

"Okay Ms. Fries. Wow me. Make it god because there are two facts I know and that is that I don't have a younger sister and that my father never stepped out on my mother."

Amy spoke very quietly, very determined, and very deliberately. "You're not wrong on either of those." She handed me a packet with the gright red logo from "Global Family Search LLC". They're one of the myriad outfits that do the DNA family searches. In fact it was the same one I sent my DNA to just a few weeks ago but I hadn't gotten my info yet.

"My parents told me when I was a kid that I was adopted," Amy said, "It never bothered me. I never cared."

Amy sat back down and continued, "A couple of years back I sent my DNA in to see what I could find out."

My gaze never left the packet. My blood was on fire. My Dad could be a lot of things when I was a kid. He was cheap. He was strict. At times he was distant. But he was the most honest and faithful man I have ever met.

"What did you find," I asked.

"Mostly mundane stuff. That I was 98% English and 2% German. That I was related to George Washington of all things. Then last week this came in the mail," she said indicating the packet. "They received DNA from someone that triggered a match for me. A brother."

"I'm sorry," I said, " I just don't see how this is possible. My father didn't fuck around. I don't have a younger sister."

Amy's face folded in a frown. I had to admit to myself: I know that frown very, very well. I see it on my face in the mirror when I'm uncomfortable and on the faces of both of my daughters when they were telling me something I didn't want to hear. I was unnerved.

Amy continued, "I don't think your father did. And I don't think I'm younger."

"There is no way you're older than me," I said. Shit, she had to be younger than me by ten years. Right?

The frown deepened along with a flash of irritation from her eyes at having been interrupted. Oh yeah, I know that look well, too.

"See, I googled you when I got the packet. My son loves your games, by the way." She handed me a little laminated card. It was her driver's license.

"Have you ever," she fought for the words, "Have you ever felt like something was missing? Something you couldn't place?"

Amy continued talking but I stopped listening. I looked at the line on her license that showed her birthdate. January 10, 1974. My birthday. Our birthday. What the fuck?

I heard the kitchen door swing open and a glass of water was placed in my left hand and two Tylenol in my right. Sophie gave me a half smile, patted my arm, and retreated far enough to at least give me the illusion she wasn't eavesdropping.

"Sophie is a good kid," Amy observed quietly. "I bet she's a good doctor."

"Yeah, but a bit of a nag when it comes to my health."

Amy & I fell into a silence interrupted by our breathing. I opened the packet from Global Family and read the letter. It had one of those DNA charts that was meaningless to me without my own results. But I was beginning to expect it would look very similar.

Outside of that it clearly stated that a recent match indicated that I was Amy's brother. Her brother with the exact same birthday.

"Are you saying," it was my turn for the frown, "that we are twins?"

"It does look that way. I don't understand it, either. Your family doctor," she said pointing toward the kitchen, "suggests we get a real blood and DNA test. I think we should."

Amy stood up retrieving her things from me. I stood up as well from reflect. What the fuck was I going to do? Hug Her? Shake her hand? She handed me a slip of paper that had a phone number on it.

"I'm staying at the motel in town until Monday. Please call me after you've had time to process this a little. Oh: Sorry about parking in front of your garage."

I laughed, "Did Sophie warn you when you got here?"

"No," she gave me a charming grin. A wonderful grin. "It was in your eyes when you came in the door."

And with that she left.

I called to the kitchen, "I'll be in my office," and I headed down the hall to sit at my PC. I popped open Facebook and sent my brothers, Dean and Cal, a message.

"Zoom. Now." I sent them the link and opened it myself and waited for them.

Part III

It didn't take long for the two bald-headed faces of my older brothers to appear. Both looked annoyed that I was so abrupt with them. I didn't care.

Dean, the oldest, spoke first, "Just because you look like Dad doesn't mean you get to give orders."

"And yet, you are here." I deadpanned.

"Look..." Dean began.

I Interrupted quickly, dropping the bomb, "Do I have a sister?"

"What? No," my middle brother Cal quickly answered. "Whay would you..."

"Cut the bullshit, Cal. Do I have a sister? Do I have a twin?"

The looks on their faces told me volumes. Once again: holy shit.

"I met a woman today," I calmly said, "who claims to be my-OUR sister. She had just enough conviction and just enough evidence that I think I believe her. She shares my fucking birthday!" Okay, my calm was quickly evaporating.

"I'll ask again. Do I have a twin goddamn sister?"

Dean finally quietly said, "Yeah. You did. But Mom and Dad said she was stillborn."

My patience was gone. "What the fuck did Mom and Dad do, Dean?"

"We don't know, Davey," Cal said, "We're just as shocked as you. We..."

"Is this why you were such twats to me growing up," I asked as an insight hit me. "Did you resent me for living and her not?"

Those two fuckers. They could never hide their feelings. Never hide the truth. Never lie. Their faces showed everything. What a pair of fucking assholes. I cut the call.

I pulled my phone out and dialed Amy's number.

"Hello," she answered quickly.

"Hi, Amy. It's David Drake."

"Hi David!" I could hear her voice perk up. "I didn't expect to hear from you so quickly."

"Yeah," I said, "I spoke to my brothers. Anyway, I think we should talk some more. There's an Italian place across the street from where you're staying. Franks. Meet me there in two hours?"

"Sure. I saw the place when I came in. I'll see you soon."

I put my phone down and crossed the hall to my bedroom. Locking the door I quickly stripped down and walked into the ensuite standing shower. The sweat and grim from the train had to go. I had to think.

The events of the afternoon started replaying in my head as I stood under the spray of the shower head Grace had insisted on. It was a full length rain shower and it was so we could both use the shower at the same time. Not that we could ever agree on a water temperature. I liked water hot. She liked water that came from a volcanic lake.

Amy had asked me if I ever felt as if there was something missing. The truth of the matter was that I thought that nearly every single day of my life. Even when Grace was alive and I was as close to happy as someone like me could ever be I felt like there was a big fucking hole inside me. I never understood it. At times I felt ungrateful and ashamed of it. But I did know it was the root and source of my anger.

I thought about Amy's expressions; so like my own. The way her face scrunched up when she knew sh had to say something uncomfortable. I think I knew right then she was telling the truth.

I thought of how she looked: slim, young, and very pretty. The way the dress she was wearing hugged her breasts and ass (oh yeah, I noticed) was, to reuse a word, amazing.

Uhm..oh shit. I was hard. Hard as fucking steel. I was hard as fucking steel thinking about the body of a woman who was likely my twin sister. What the fuck was wrong with me?

This would not do. I reached for the faucet to turn the shower to cold. As my hand neared the faucet a nasty little bit of my mind said, "Hey perv. At your age and with high blood pressure you shouldn't waste an erection."

The voice wasn't wrong. It continued, "Bet she's doing the same thing at the motel. You heard how happy she was to hear from you."

"Woe," I muttered out loud, "too far." But that didn't stop me from grabbing my dick and slowly pumping it.

Grace used to love to corner me in the shower. She'd stroke my cock slowly while she played with her clit. God, how I loved watching her play with herself. I loved listening to her breathing change as she became aroused.

As Grace's hand would speed up I would try to move in a way to increase pressure but she'd stop me. She loved to be in control. Then, right as our orgasms would be on top of us she'd stop, step out of the shower, and head to the bedroom.

I'd follow Grace a moment later and she was already on the bed without even bothering to towel off. Her legs would be spread wide and her fingers would be slowly pushing in and out of her cunt. She'd look at me with a pout and say, "Is Master going to punish me for being a tease? Is he going to pound my wet, slutty pussy?"

The answer was always yes.

I would slide into Grace as if she was custom made only for me. When we came it was so strong she'd either black out or temporarily lose the ability to speak in English. My God, her face when she orgasmed was divine.