Big Brother Comes Home

I left Mary talking to mum and went to do some of my own housework. It felt so different that morning; I wanted to sing and dance as I did the boring dusting and cleaning. Perhaps it was talking to Andy this morning, but I knew deep down it was Mary that had made so much difference to my attitude. Her gentle loving had made me realise I could last out until Andy came home. I could, and must resist the wanton urge to jump into bed with my brother despite my aching desire to do so.

I sang a tune from our courtship days .... just a silly pop song but it reminded me of the first time in the back of Andy's car. It was cramped and a bit uncomfortable but I don't remember it spoiling the wonder of that first awakening of my sexuality. I had been warned it would hurt but it was nothing compared to the thrill of feeling his body joined to mine. His cock embedded had been so deep inside me, claiming me as his for life. Or was I putting my claim on him? It didn't matter so long as we both felt that same special bond that must never be broken.

Up to this week I had never even considered letting another man anywhere near my pussy. It was Andy's, exclusively, never to be plundered by another cock. Only he could have that pleasure. I vowed in church to be faithful unto death and I really meant that vow. I also insisted on the old order of service and said those momentous words; 'Love honour and obey' because I wanted to be his for ever. Obeying him came as a natural extension of loving him as dearly, as I still did.

The sound of Bernie's old car crunching the gravel made my heart flip. Could I resist the primeval urges my brother had caused in my breast? How should I break the news to him that despite my wanting him so much I just had to resist his love for me? This was much harder than the usual crush on a prospective lover; mostly it's just sex and the excitement of having someone different taking you to bed. Despite me never having been unfaithful, I had, like most women, been tempted before. But never with someone I loved just as dearly as I loved my husband, albeit in a different way. This was going to be a real test of my resolve, my love for my husband and my determination to be faithful to my marriage vows.

Bernie walked into the lounge, his face very serious.

He said, 'Chrissie I am going to move out before we do something we will both regret for the rest of our lives.'

I stood there, not knowing what to say, not wanting him to leave but knowing it was the best for both of us. I tried to speak but couldn't get the words out of my mouth. Mary burst into the room just at the right moment; she would break this spell of total confusion. She threw herself at Bernie, almost knocking him off his feet. Her arms wrapped tight around his neck, her lips planted firmly on his, her cries of delight as she made very clear her intentions.

My voice came back as I said, "For God's sake, put him down you randy little whore."

She looked at me and said, "If I don't have him, you will Chrissie, and that would be a disaster. You already have a great man in Andy. Don't for heaven's sake ruin that, you stupid girl. Leave this one to me. I can make sure he doesn't need to come onto his little sister."

Both Bernie and I were so shocked. We didn't know what to say. How on earth had she read the situation so clearly? How could she have known how close we had come to making love to each other?

She suggested that we made some lunch and then talk about our situation. She helped me prepare lunch and sat us down, much like my mother did us two girls all those years ago, about to tell us the facts of life.

Mary started the conversation. Well, started the lecture would be nearer the mark. She looked at me and then at Bernie.

She started on him first, saying, "I know how much you have wanted to make love to your sister all of your adult life, Bernie. I was so jealous of her for having your attention and I am quite surprised it didn't happen long ago. But finding Andy made sure Chrissie didn't stray. You, however, have only had unhappiness from your marriage and I dreaded you coming to live with Chrissie, especially with Andy away so much. I just knew it would come to a head, but promise me Bernie it hasn't happened yet and you will make sure it doesn't. Come on Bernie, I want your solemn oath."

Bernie looked as shocked as me, his face pale with anxiety. He stammered out the words she insisted on. "Honestly, Mary, we haven't done anything bad but we have been tempted. That's why I went to stay with a friend last night, to make sure we didn't do something we would regret. I decided to move out today for the same reason."

Mary turned on me next. "You've been a real fool, even to consider doing it with your own brother, when you had everything you needed." She continued her lecture, saying, "How lucky you are, having the man who you loved, working abroad to keep you both in the luxury you enjoyed. How would you like to trade places with me - on the poverty line and getting beaten up every time my husband got drunk? Do you think men like Andy grew on trees? If you need some relief, because I know how much you miss him, come to me. At least it's not as bad as going with another man."

How well did this girl know me? She must have been psychic to get so near the truth, so accurate in her knowledge of my relationship with Andy.

"Now both of you," she concluded, "promise me that you will never let this terrible thing happen. Come on, I want your word as friend, and the best friends I ever had."

She took my hand and placed it in Bernie's, making us swear not to let it happen.

We sat there, looking across the table at each other, saying the words we both knew could change our lives for ever.

"Now don't leave, Bernie," she insisted, "because that would be an admission of guilt, and you don't want to do anything that might spoil Chrissie and Andy's relationship, do you?"

Mary looked at me and asked if she could stay indefinitely. She had decided at last to walk away from her disastrous marriage and wanted my home for shelter.

"Besides," she said, "if I'm here, you two won't have the opportunity to sleep together will you?"

That cheeky grin pulled at the corners of her mouth.

The next thing she did, as soon as I agreed to her staying, was ask to use the phone. She didn't even have a mobile. She called her husband, who immediately shouted abuse at her for not being there to cook his lunch. She sounded so calm as she told him she would never cook his lunch again, or be his punch bag when he was drunk and violent. She wanted a divorce; it was over, she didn't want anything from him, just a divorce.

He shouted so loud that we could hear him across the room, threatening her with

all kinds of abuse if she didn't get her 'skinny ass home' and get his dinner. She hung up the telephone while he was still ranting and raving. It made me think of my conversation this morning with Andy. What a difference! Oh, my god! I had agreed to her staying without asking him. I grabbed the phone, dialling his number for the second time today. Andy thought it was a great idea for Mary to move in, and told me to go buy whatever furniture we needed to furnish the spare room for her. Relieved that I hadn't done wrong, again, we set off for the shops.

Mary gave me a long lecture about my desire for my brother. She scared me a bit when she said that mum had mentioned her concerns to her only this morning. She said it was unhealthy for us two siblings to be thrown together, and something could easily happen that would be disastrous. Oh my god! Did everybody know I fancied my brother? I only found out the day before, and it seemed as if the rest of the world knew before I did.

Mary moved in. She became a buffer between Bernie and me. In fact she started to go out with him quite a lot. 'Only as friends,' she said but the look on her face told another story completely. I was glad she had taken up with Bernie. It prevented me from doing something I might regret, or should that be would regret? I don't know, but her presence in the house stopped anything from happening.

Andy came home for a visit. Unfortunately he couldn't stop for his usual month, and he was gone again in two weeks, but promised to be home for Christmas.

Mary and Bernie became a couple. In fact she moved into his room, another good thing for me. She certainly wouldn't welcome me in their bed, despite her frequent visits to mine. It had become a regular thing; as soon as Bernie was asleep she would tiptoe into my room and slip naked under my duvet. Her cold hands explored my flesh. Her gentle, but insistent, caresses brought me to climax after climax. I played with her a few times, but she preferred Bernie to do the loving to her. She liked making me cum but wasn't so keen on me doing it for her. Should I have complained?

To move forward a year or two, Mary's divorce came through, Andy was back working abroad, and Mary and my brother decided to get married. I was so happy for them both, because they had both been hurt badly. Only someone who has lived that heartache can understand. She asked me to be her matron of honour. I was delighted; Bernie was a silly old fashioned man and wanted Mary to stay somewhere else the night before they married. Andy couldn't get home for the wedding, so it left just me and Bernie at home the night before he married my best friend.

We sat in the lounge and talked, like siblings do, about just anything and everything.

He asked me, "Have you had any regrets in your life?"

I thought for a while and said, "Yes, Bernie, I wish I had known you fancied me so much all those years. It could have been so much better for both of us. You should have told me you thought I was so sexy, not kept it to yourself. "

He blushed, as only good honest men can, and said, "I tried so many times to talk to you about my feelings but I was worried you might think I was a perve, fancying my own sister. It isn't natural is it?"

I smiled and said, "I don't know, but if you had been at home that night when I returned, you would have found out, because I was going to take you to my bed. Isn't it strange, though, that Mary stopped us making that move, and now she's going to marry you."

He smiled again and said, "You are going to miss her night time visits too, aren't you Chrissie?"

My turn to blush; the heat in my cheeks was burning my skin. How did he know she came to my bed and make girly love to me so often?

I said, "How on earth did you know?

He smiled and said, "Do you know most of the things Andy does when you are together? "

"Yes," I answered, "but you were always asleep before she came to my room."

"No I wasn't," he replied. "I sometimes pretended, but she told me she needed to keep you from doing something foolish and she knew if you had enough fun with her you would leave me alone."

Oh god! Was I so transparent? Could they both see through me so easily? Even my mother had suspected I was getting too interested in Bernie for my own good.

He looked at me and said, "Do you really regret that we didn't make love to each other?"

I looked him straight in the eye and answered, "Yes Bernie. I really wanted to know if it would have been as good as I thought it would be. Making love to someone you love, and have loved all of your life, I think it could have been very special."

"Yes," he murmured, "so do I."

Trying to lighten the mood, I suggested a bottle of wine to celebrate his last night of freedom. This was a mistake, because you know what alcohol does to me, don't you? By the second glass I was giggling like a silly girl. By the third I was getting very brave. The second bottle opened and I suggested we take it up to my bedroom.

"Are you absolutely sure?" he asked.

I took his hand and led him to my room, the bottle in my hand. We sat on my bed, looking at each other. Then he kissed me. It felt like a lightening strike as it sent tremors down through my body. My heart stopped for a few beats as his lips caressed mine.

Oh god, he was so good. His lips seemed to draw my whole body into his; I have never felt anything like it. Even if I had changed my mind, I couldn't get away from his kiss. It stole my soul, reduced me to a quivering wreck, just a sexual heap of woman. Wanting him so badly, I would have, in fact I did, beg him to undress me and take me to bed. Without breaking the kiss, he stripped off my top and my skirt. Only my throng was left, as I hadn't worn a bra that day. That soon joined my other clothes on the floor.

He somehow undressed himself, again without breaking that wonderful kiss. I could feel myself getting wet between my legs, wanting him so much, so badly it was almost pathetic; the desperate need to have my own brother fuck me. We crawled under the duvet, both wrapped around each other, our legs entwined, our arms wrapped round each other's neck, our lips still fastened together in this kiss, this wonderful erotic kiss that had robbed me of any will of direction at all. As I said earlier, I was just putty in his hands, so pliable, so malleable, so willing and so wet. I have also told you how much I love my husband and it's true, but he has never made me feel so totally consumed by just a kiss. Andy is good but this was out of this world.

I promised myself I was not going to fuck my brother. Mary had not only saved me from making such a fool of myself, she had fallen in love with him. Now it was ten times worse. I was not only betraying my hubby I was also cheating on my best friend. If both Mary and Andy had been standing by the door to my bedroom, watching, I would still have gone through with this. It was something I needed to know. Had his infatuation for me all these years been worth it? Could my own brother be a better lover than my fantastic husband? Was this illegal coupling as good as my overactive imagination imagined?

All these and other silly thoughts were running through my mind as I felt his hands on my titties, stroking and making my nipples rise to meet his gentle fingers. They were straining at the very mass of my double Ds to get more attention from him. I felt so sexy, more sexy that I have ever known. Even my wedding night wasn't as exciting as this.

But I had made love with Andy for years before we married, so that's not so surprising is it? I felt so intoxicated by Bernie's gently but insistent kiss. He hadn't stopped for a second, his lips fastened to mine, his breathing almost as ragged as mine. This was pure passion, nothing like normal lovemaking. It was almost animal, but so gentle as well. He stroked and fondled my body.

Coming up for air at last, he moaned as he whispered in my ear, "You have no idea how long I've wanted to touch these wonderful titties. It's been the stuff of all my wet dreams and my wanking hour. Every time I have ever had a climax you have been in my mind. Yes, even when I'm with another woman it's you I am thinking of, it's your body I'm fondling, your pussy I'm plundering."

He groaned as I touched his rampant cock. It was so hard and so hot it felt like a fire brand. His reaction to my touch was to let his fingers travel down my tummy to my mons, his fingers finding the vee and slipping between the lips of my very wet pussy. He found my clitty so easily, as if he had done it hundreds of times. It all felt so natural, so good, so nice.

Bernie pushed the duvet back, exposing my nakedness to his eyes. The light was still on, so he could see every little defect in my well worn body; the cellulite which seemed to appear almost overnight, my tummy muscles slackening, all those other changes. You ladies reading this will know what I mean.

I felt old and exposed but hot as hell. I was worried that he might find my body repulsive so close up. Yes, he had seen me naked, on the landing and in the bathroom once or twice but never this close, and certainly never this personal, His fingers and his eyes told a very different story. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning, opening that special present he had asked Father Christmas for and got.

He murmured something about my beautiful body and calmed my fears. He didn't notice the little defects that worried me every morning as I looked in the mirror. His hands and eyes were on my naked pussy, so smooth, as Andy loves it.

Bernie was stroking it, making cooing noises as if he was admiring the Mona Lisa, not his own sister. He touched my clitty again and made me jump and moan as he rolled it gently under the pad of his finger. Oh god, it wouldn't take much to bring me off; I was so hot so turned on.

He moved down the bed, his head disappearing between my thighs as he lapped at my cunt, sending all the right signals to my brain. I couldn't reach him, only his shoulders as he drove me wild with his tongue. My hands gripped the bed head. It's one of those old iron ones, much preferred by my husband because of the convenient bars and cross-members, so good to use as restraints when tying me to the bed, one of his specialties.

My knuckles were white from the grip as I rode the first climax of the night. It was out of this world as he drove me higher and higher, making me feel quite faint with the passion and pure lust of his tonguing. He was so good at this it, it almost blew my mind. I gasped for him to stop, I couldn't take much more of this - he had made me cum non-stop for ages. It seemed like hours, but was several long minutes at least.

He looked up at me smiling and said, "That was great. What would you like next?"

I dragged him up the bed to me, leaning down to where his cock stood so strong and beautiful, opening my mouth. I let my head drop until his cock was all the way in my throat, making me gag a little. I was determined to repay his compliment and make him feel as good as he had made me feel.

His hair was softer than Andy's but still tickled my nose as I gobbled him as deep as I could. My tongue and lips massed his cock as strongly as possible, his groans of pleasure making me sure I was on the right track. This is always the way to a man's heart. No man can ever be angry with his wife or girl friend when she's sucking his cock. It's guaranteed to mend any broken fences or promises.

His hands, on the back of my head pressing slightly, made me sure this was the right thing to do. It was imperative that this night was perfect; as it had to be the only time we ever did this. Both of us knew it was a one-off and wanted it to be absolutely perfect. His fingers were entwined in my hair, holding me captive on his erect cock. He made those cute little noises you men make when you are getting close. His fingers and his hands told me he wanted me to take his spunk down my throat, and that was fine. I love the taste of cum almost as much as men like giving it to me, although my knowledge had been limited to just one man before this night.

He groaned and tensed as he lifted his bum right off the bed, crying out as he filled my mouth with hot sticky cum. It tasted good and I just love the feeling of pure satisfaction of making a man come with my mouth. He held me there for a while, making sure I had taken every last drop of his precious cum. He needn't have worried. I wouldn't let a single drop escape my mouth. I wanted this as much, if not more than Bernie did.

At last he let go of my hair. I smiled up at him with a look of total incredulity. On his face he looked so happy, so contented. I almost wished he was staying with me for ever, but he was marrying my best friend in the morning and we still had much to do.

This had to be good, as it was the one and only time we would ever allow our lust to get the better of us. He pulled me up to his lips, kissing me again with that passion only his kisses had given me. My whole body seemed to melt into his, making us one quivering mass of sexual pleasure. We kissed and fondled each other for ages before we got down to the main act. He needed time to recover from the blow job I had just given him. After all he wasn't a teenager, but the telltale lump pressing against my thigh told me he was hard again and ready to go.