Full Circle

I joined the Army right out of high school, and in late 1965 I found myself in Viet Nam fighting a war that I had no business fighting because those were my orders. In the weeks leading up to my departure for basic training, I played up the whole, "I might not come back alive" angle in an effort to get some last-minute action. Oh, who am I kidding? I was still a virgin and I was hoping to lose it before leaving. That did happen, to some degree, but not completely, not the way I wanted it to.

My sister Edna, who was two years my senior, was perhaps most afraid for me. We would climb out of my farmhouse window, sit on the roof, and engage in endless conversations, indulging "What if...?" scenarios and the such. One night, though, she asked me point blank if I was still a virgin. I told her I was, and she asked me if I wanted her to fix that for me. "What do you mean? Fix it how?"

"Just lay back and loosen your pants," she told me. Nervously, I did. She looked around, then pulled her blouse and bra up, exposing her breasts. It was the first time I had ever seen real breasts live and up close, but tiny as they were, they were the most beautiful things my eyes had ever beheld. She leaned back and whispered, "Put one in your mouth," and as I did, she reached into my pants and pulled my pecker free, then she began to jerk it back and forth.

I moaned softly around her areola as I got harder and harder, then, less than five minutes later, I was shooting off all over the place. Edna remained quiet and continued to pump my penis until she was sure I had emptied my load, then she sat up, violently ripping her nipple from my mouth. "There, how was that?"

Out of breath and still riding that euphoric high, I whispered, "It was great, Edna."

"If you're a good boy, I'll do it again for you tomorrow."

Tomorrow couldn't get here quick enough.

I won't go into details about the other times, simply because the other times were exactly like the first time in that I sucked her nipples while she jacked me off. It never deviated; she never did anything more. I did ask if I was still a virgin, and she answered, "Technically, yes, but also technically, no." There was some comfort in that, confusing as it was, but at least I had a story to tell the friends I would make in boot camp, and yes, I would definitely change the identity of my angel from my sister to "Mary-Lou Whatever-I-Decided-To-Call-Her."

As I went through boot, I shared my story while listening to the stories of others. It wasn't hard to discern whose were complete bullshit and whose were legit, but we never hacked on anyone about it. You know, camaraderie and the such. It helped us bond into a cohesive fighting unit.

So, immediately after boot camp my platoon was sent to Viet Nam. We really didn't see any fighting in the early stages of our tenure there, but each of us got laid twenty times over those first couple of months. It was great, too, even though one of the guys in our platoon, Buddy Roper, told us that Asian women had sideways pussies, and we all believed him until we found out for ourselves that it wasn't true, but even while being with them, I found myself once again yearning for my sister's touch.

I did three tours in Viet Nam. I would return home to the folks and Edna for about three weeks, and then I would volunteer to go again. No ... no, I didn't have a death wish. I believed in my country, and if our leaders said this is what was needed, then I felt it was my duty as a citizen to provide them with it. While home, I availed myself to my sister. The first time I hinted at the rooftop, she ignored me. The second, however, she told me that what she did before I left, she did for the purpose of making me a man, so she saw no more need to do it. Resignedly, I gave up on the whole idea that something more could happen between us.

My final tour in Viet Nam, I always felt a dark cloud above me, as if death was just waiting to claim me. I wrote Edna about this, and somehow my true feelings for her made their way onto the page. I told her what those nights atop our roof meant to me and I wanted to do more. Yes, I went into detail, but I was respectful about it. I received a letter from her several months later that served to assuage my feelings of death and despair, but she told me in no uncertain terms that what we did was done and over. "Besides, I'm marrying Willie Martin. We decided to wait until you come home for the ceremony." Willie Martin. From what my father told me, Willie's father is a cousin to Senator Richard Martin, which is what kept Willie from being drafted.

I returned home in August of 1971 with a full month of leave before I was to report to my new duty station in Japan. Upon my arrival, Edna's wedding to Willie was announced to take place in two weeks, and although it was hastily thrown together, it was a big to-do, with relatives from all sides of both families coming from out of town. The night before the wedding, however, Edna came into my room around three a.m. I knew she was en route the moment she stepped outside her door. Sleeping in a Viet Nam jungle taught one to be aware of everything, even while asleep.

She closed my door as she entered, then whispered, "Art? Are you awake?"

"Yes," I whispered my response.

She stood there for all of ten seconds, the pale light of the quarter moon casting just enough illumination that I could see on her face the struggle she was having with continuing. Finally, she said, "You and I have unfinished business," and with that she removed her night gown, then her underwear. When she stood erect again I was in awe of her body, so perfectly lithe in every respect. She climbed into my bed next to me, then said, "One time only, understand?" I nodded, then she removed my skivvies, climbed on top of me, and we made love. Yes, there was so much more I wanted to do with her, share with her, and maybe even teach her, but she was content to ride me until we both were satisfied. Then, without another word, she gathered her clothes and returned to her room. Later that day she became Mrs. Willie Martin.

I had a fling with her bridesmaid, Gina Renfroe, up until I left for Japan. She said she didn't want anything serious, just to fool around, and I was happy to oblige. The business with Edna did seem finished, and I decided that I had a thing for Asian women. I was in Japan just two months and I married a young woman named Aki Watanabe. After two years, though, we were divorced. I just thank God that we didn't have kids. As bad as it may sound, I'm glad that the affair that ended our relationship was with Colonel Forsythe, who was over twice Aki's age. As soon as our divorce was settled, the two of them were married, saving me a ton of alimony, I'm sure.

Approximately six months later I received a letter from Edna telling me that Willie had died. He had been plowing his farm when the plow got stuck on a buried tree trunk. He hopped out of the tractor without the benefit of placing it in park, then he attempted to loosen the plow blades off a root by hand. The tractor lurched forward, entangling his arm and cutting the brachial artery. He died slowly from exsanguination. She finished her letter by saying, "I'm free now. Too bad you're married and too far away to comfort me in this time of crisis."

I called her and told her that I was divorced and that I could be there for the funeral. "You know, to help out and what-not."

"Well, sorry to hear about your divorce, and the funeral was four days ago." She said nothing more about wanting me there for any other reason whatsoever, so I left it alone. She did say that she sold the farm and bought a nice little country manor that suited her and Willie, Jr.'s needs, and that she had a spare room I could use if and when I came back home to visit, and even though I found nothing in her voice to suggest she meant anything other than just that, the possibility did ignite a small flicker of hope.

I finished my tour of duty in Japan and was sent to the Philippines after six weeks leave. I went home hoping that fate would somehow put my sister back in my arms again, but, "I'm engaged to Jasper Fellings, Art. It wouldn't be right to cheat on him."

"Didn't you cheat on Willie?"

"That was different ... Unfinished business."

"One might say we still have unfinished business," I told her.

"How so?"

"Well, we made love—and don't get me wrong, it was wonderful—but did we really satisfy one another as deeply and completely as we could?"

A moment's thought, then, "I'll think about it."

That night, as we readied ourselves for bed, Edna invited me into her room. She told me that she had considered my words, and if I agreed that it would be just one time then she would comply. I smiled my acknowledgement of this and stripped to join her in her bed. "No holding back tonight Edna," I said to her. "I want everything you have to offer."

We began by kissing. It was awkward at first because we had never actually kissed as lovers before, but soon we found a groove that suited us perfectly. I didn't want to rush things. I wanted this night to last as long as it possibly could, so I spent a good fifteen minutes just kissing her on her lips, her neck, and her ears. She told me I was driving her crazy, which emboldened me to move even slower.

My hands found her breasts first, and my mouth was slow to follow. She was still producing milk from her left breast—not a lot, just minute amounts—but her right was dry. I latched onto the nipple and sucked it slowly; I felt it harden in my mouth, and I heard her moan as it did so. "I haven't been with anyone since Willie," she told me. I intended to make this as memorable as I possibly could.

As I continued to suck her nipple, I slowly eased a hand between her legs. Yes, this was the seventies, meaning that the "razor revolution" had not yet been idealized, so I found myself moving aside massive amounts of hair to find the opening to her pussy, but once I did ... I slid a finger inside of her and began to work it back and forth as I simultaneously rubbed her clitoris with my thumb. "Oh ... Art! Is this what those Oriental women taught you?" I said nothing in response. I just continued to do what I was doing. Her breath caught about five minutes later, then again, then again, then, "Don't stop. I'm almost there." I changed from the in-out motion to rubbing inside her, placing pressure on her pubic bone as I moved my finger in a circular motion. As she came, I was afraid she was going to wake the baby. Lucky for us, she didn't. As she finally settled, she said, "Oh, my God, Art. That's the most incredible orgasm I've ever had."

"It gets better," I told her, then kissed my way down.

Once my tongue touched her clitoris, she squirmed all over her bed. I performed oral sex on her for at least an hour. When she finally called me off she said, "I'm too damned feeble to return the favor. Give me a few minutes." I did, but not the way she was expecting.

I consider myself a pioneer for my time. Not many people would lick a woman's anus, but to me it seemed as natural as licking her pussy, so I had always done it, and I was doing it now to my sister, but, "Art! Art! What are you doing? Stop it. That's nasty."

I came off her and asked, "Why is it nasty?"

"Well, because I potty from there," she told me.

"And you pee and bleed from your pussy," I retorted, "so tell me how one is any worse than the other."

She couldn't, so she finally said, "Fine. Lick yourself ecstatic." Thing is, though, that is was she who gave in to the ecstasy. I eventually made my way back to her pussy, and after two more orgasms she told me that that was enough. "Lay down and let's see if I can't satisfy you the way you did me, except I'm not licking your butt."

"I don't want you to," I told her. The reality of it is that I think it is natural for a man to do that to a woman, but I think it's downright nasty for a woman to do it to a man. Anyway, I said, "Just take your time. We have all night." She did. She spent a good twenty minutes giving me head, and I was surprised that she not only allowed me to cum in her mouth, but that she actually swallowed it. "Have you always swallowed?"

"I never swallowed Willie's," she told me, "but Jasper said that it was a sign that a woman truly loved a man." She paused, then lay on the pillow next to me. "I really can't say that I love him, Art, but he does provide some stability to my life. Willie, Jr.'s, too."

I sat up and said, "If you don't love him, then don't marry him. It'll never work out." She said nothing in reply. "Look, it's obvious that we have some chemistry between us. Come with me to the Philippines. We'll live as husband and wife, I'll raise Willie, Jr. as my own ... It's a win-win situation all the way around."

"You would really do that, wouldn't you?"

"Of course, I would."

She pulled me on top of her, reached between my legs, grabbed my penis, and began to massage it against her pussy. I hardened almost immediately and allowed her to guide me inside of her. We made slow, beautiful love, and it was by far the best lovemaking I had ever experienced. When it was over, I asked, "So does that mean yes?"

"I'll think about it," she said, then turned and went to sleep. I draped an arm around her and did the same, blissfully.

The following morning, I awoke and cooked breakfast for us. Willie, Jr. was in a phase where he had to have bananas at every meal, so he had bananas and bacon. I made Edna and myself a BLT with coffee and orange juice on the side. I didn't breech the subject of her moving with me as I did not want to pressure her. Instead, we talked about anything and everything else. That night, after Willie, Jr. went to sleep, Edna said she would like to do what we did that first night on the rooftop with exception to the fact that I had to finger her and get her off as well, "Just like you did last night." I was all for it, so we did, and the remainder of the week, this was the extent of our nightly sexual contact.

When the time finally came for me to return to duty, I asked Edna for her response. She replied, "I can't, Art. What we had here was great and wonderful, but I can't take a chance on how it would affect Mom and Dad. They'd know. I know they would. In fact, there is a part of me that believes they already suspect something is going on between us. And then there's Willie, Jr. to think of ... Because of all that, I have to say no."

I smiled, hugged her, and said, "I'm going to miss you."

"And I, you."

"Yeah, but you'll be married in no time. I really hope it lasts," and it did. Well, for twenty years, anyway, then Jasper announced to the world that he had been living a lie all these years, that he was gay, and he thought married life would suppress his homosexual urges. It didn't, and he finally had to be true to himself.

About me, though, I fell in love with and married a Filipina within the first eighteen months of my duty. We had a child together, a boy. When I returned stateside to my new duty station of Camp Mabry in Austin, Texas, she was so happy. Her happiness lasted approximately five more years. As soon as our seventh-year anniversary passed, Josefina's whole attitude toward me, us as a family, and life itself changed radically for the worst. I did everything I could do to appease her, but nothing seemed to work. She finally told me one day that the whole relationship was a ruse just to get her American citizenship, and now that she had it, she no longer needed me. We were divorced two months later.

I pretty much swore off marriage after that. Sure, I'd date, and even had long-term relationships, but I never fully committed to another until about two years before Edna's marriage to Jasper ended. I was in Hawaii, met a local woman, and we hit it off so well. I mean, she was like a female version of me insofar as likes and dislikes go. After a year of being together, we married, and remained so for about fifteen years. She had become a victim of dementia, though, and I eventually had to put her in an institution where she died. I remained married to her throughout the ordeal, though, because I loved her just that much.

Edna remained single for about ten years before marrying Sonny Black, a used car salesman who always had one scheme or another to strike it rich. He eventually took Edna for everything she had. By the time she realized it, it was too late.

I sit here now at seventy years of age recounting the past loves of my life and those of my sister because ... Well, something strange and wonderful has happened. Edna had been telling me of her financial woes, so I suggested that she come live with me in Connecticut. "I own my home, I have two vehicles, and my pension covers what other bills I have. I want for nothing, Edna, except for you."

To my surprise, she agreed. She moved in less than a month ago with the understanding that we would live as the lovers we were always destined to be. Our age has not necessarily caused our libidos to wane. If anything, the mere idea that we are brother and sister living as lovers has reignited the flames of passion for us both. You may think that the idea of two over-seventy people making love three or four times a week is disquieting, to say the least, but I'm here to tell you that I have never felt so young and happy and in love in all my life, and neither has Edna. What we share is beautiful, and even though it literally took a lifetime for me to be with the woman I love, every heartbreak, every stumble along the way, and every pothole in the road that has led up to it has been worth it.