Going down under

"Is this it?"

"The bathroom is on the landing. But it's about 8 times bigger than my rig."

"I can't believe this, any of this. You really drive a giant truck?"

"Road train with up to 200 tons on my back."

"Fuck! OK, this is gonna be a long and hard conversion. I've wine and it's mandatory. Glasses?"

I got tall boy glasses, which seemed to fit the need. I'd have used pint glasses if I had any. With nothing to sit on but the bed, we sat side by side.

"Where do we start? 15 years of exile or the other night?" She said, filling both glasses.

"Let's try the regular family stuff first. Regardless of what else happens, I'm here for our parents for 3 weeks. We need to fake it for them."

"OK, I'll start. I've been married to Patrick for 9 years. You have a niece, Kylie and a nephew, Nathan 7 and 4, respectively. Meeting them and being a good uncle is not negotiable. OK."

"Sure I love kids. Never been able to eat a whole one but..." she glowered at the feeble joke.

"Still an arsehole when it comes to jokes, I see."

"Sis, this is mega weird. My reaction is always to joke, so it doesn't hurt so much. Go on."

"I'm an accountant, or I should say work in an accounts department, as I remember you were such a pedant. And a fucking maths whizz. What's 15% of 540?" She asked.

"81." I replied a moment later.

"How the fuck to you do that and how did you end up the family fuck up?"

"The answer to both is easy. 10% of 540 is 54 and 5% is half that, so 27. At the two together and it's 81. The second part is, one of us had to be the fuck up and I already had done the leg-work."

"You never explained why you took the blame and fucked off out of our lives like that?"

"I loved my sister..."

"I think the other night proved just how much you loved your sister." She said with heat.

"Stop." I used a low and intense voice. It's got me out of a hell of a lot of fights when it's said right.

Almost like it stroked a primal fear. Or I've read too many comic books.

"Josie, fighting and recriminations aren't going to do anything but make matters worse. You asked why I threw my life away and the answer was you. I'd blotted my copybook with the law and our parents. I wasn't about to let you do the same. You know dad's attitude to drugs after what I did.

"I'm amazed you had any at 17 and left them lying around. Heck, if you'd come to me, and I couldn't talk you out of it, not only could I have gotten them cheaper and safer. I could have told you how to hide them. Dad was on a crusade, and you'd have been collateral damage. You had your whole life in front of you. So I took the bullet."

"Seriously, you burned your whole life, your friends and stuff for me?"

"It wasn't that big a deal." Which was a transparent lie. "Look, I was heading down a darker path than I wanted. Saw little chance of exit and rolled a big dice to see if it would work out in the end, and it did."

That was more honest and open than I usually allow myself to be. I was shocked when Josie hugged me and I heard tears.

"I still think you're a dickhead and a pervert." She said as she sat back and wiped her eyes. "Where was I? Oh yes, Patrick is 3 years older, is an under manager in a bank and a wonderful husband and father."

I wanted to ask if he knew about her parties, but kept silent for now.

"What about mum and dad?"

"Not much, really. They retired last year. As you know, I tried to get you to come home that time as well."

"And I explained that surprise parties only work if the people are surprised. Which does not work if you do a surprise party for every event. Besides, I said I had urgent things I needed to fix."

"More important than mum and dad?"

"More urgent. There was a huge fire, and I needed to sort stuff out."

"Is a fireman one of your jobs now?"

"Fuck Josie, this is like your 14 again. I own land and have a house on it. A bushfire ran through the area and I needed to see if anything was left."

"You own land? How much?"

"Not much, 200 hundred acres."

"What's that in numbers I might understand?"

"Call it about a third of a square mile."

"Mile? That's what in real numbers?"

"If it was square, just under a thousand yards square."

"Fuck! That's huge."

"It's tiny in Ozzie terms. I bought the land ten years ago. It was pretty worthless, a dried-up creek and a few interesting caves. I discovered a guy who pioneered land recovery with drought-tolerant plants that created shade and helped trap moisture in the soil. You've seen those terraced farms on mountain sides? He worked to create ways to slow down water when you got some. Giving it the chance to let it soak into the soil and reduce flooding.

"I did a load of that and left it alone for 5 years. When I went back, there were more plants that I'd not planted and insects and birds. So I did some more planting and improvements and now there is water in the creek all year round. In another few years, I might build some holiday homes to rent out."

"Just like I don't recognise my brother. Don't get me wrong, but I've never heard you speak with such passion about anything before." I shrugged awkwardly.

Passion reminded me of the other night and set my mind on a whole another track.

I filled her in on the dozens of jobs I'd done over the years and some of the things I'd done.

"You're married?" She exclaimed.

"Not anymore."

"Sorry. How long ago?"

I looked at my ring finger and saw the indentation that was still there.

"About a month ago. I came home from a long trip to find my wife entertaining." I didn't need to be explicit.

"What happened?"

"The guy went over the balcony. Don't worry, he was ok. Mostly."

"And your wife?"

"I just grabbed a few things and left her to it."

"It must have hurt."

She hugged me again, and I struggled not to think about her breasts from the other night.

"Do you mind not doing that?"

"I can't hug my brother?"

"After the other night, it's not a good idea."

"Sorry. Was the divorce hard?"

"Surprisingly not. I got drunk, did a few stupid things and called her a few days later. We talked it through like grown-ups and agreed to go our separate ways."

Josie looked at her hands.

"So..." she started, then got up to refill the wine.

"Yeah, the other stuff. Where to start? My side is simple. I got in touch with Tony to see the lay of the land and make sure I wasn't stepping on anyone's toes. He took me out and got me drunk, then the following night he took me to the party without telling me what it was. I've no idea how you come into it. Wait, should I have mentioned Tony by name?"

"It's fine. The ladies all talk so we know each other. Anyway, I've known him almost as long as you have. We even dated briefly."

"And he doesn't recognise you?"

"It was a long time ago and I've changed. And besides, we never went further than kissing and first base. Is this weird we're talking about my love life?"

"Given that I inadvertently became part of it, the weirdness is just going to get worse. So, how did you get involved?"

"It's a long story."

"I've got weeks. So go ahead. I think at this stage we can't hide behind our blushes."

"Just after we conceived Nathan, Patrick started to complain about a pain in his balls. At the time, I thought he was just hinting I wasn't giving him enough blow jobs. I had bad morning sickness and sex was out."

"Sorry to interrupt already, but where did my sister learn to be that good at blow jobs?"

She blushed. "A girl has to have some secrets. God, this is hard. Not just talking about oral sex with my brother, but him knowing how I do it. You answer me a question. Did I get you close?"

"Shit, sis. So close. Another 30 seconds and I'd have blown. I've had more than my share of blow jobs, even by some professionals, and yours was the best hands down."

"Thanks, I think. Not something I'd expected to be complimented on by my brother."

"Tony said he only lasted by chewing the inside of his cheek."

"Really, I might have to try something new next time."

I wanted to ask, after that happened, why she'd continue, but remained silent.

"Anyway, I suspect that most of the others have a cheeky wank just before the party to try to make them last. But I was talking about Patrick. He went to the doctors eventually and was diagnosed with testicular cancer. They got in time, but lost both his balls. It was a horrible time, as I was weeks away from giving birth when he went in for his operation.

"That's rough, sis. It must have been awful." I squeezed her free hand, and she gave a sniffle.

"It was, but he got through it. But not without issues?"

"What? He couldn't..." I gestured hard-on.

"No, that worked ok, provided he uses a testosterone patch every day. It was more psychological. He didn't think of himself as a man any more. He can still orgasm, but not ejaculate. I tried to get him to talk to councillors, but he hates that sort of thing. But it got so bad he suggested we split so I could be with a real man. While he kept supporting us."

"That's bad."

"I even worried he might do something stupid like harm himself. Men are so stupid at times."

"You're preaching to the choir sister." I held my hand up for a high-five. She glared at me. "What I mean is women don't own the copyright on neurosis over sex and self-image. A man and his relationship to his orgasm is deep and complicated. Want me to talk to him?"

"What makes you an expert? The brother I knew would crawl through broken glass naked rather than discuss emotional stuff."

"That was 15 years ago. A lot of water under the bridge. I've got a story about two guys I know, Bluey and Roo."

"Seriously? How Aussie is this story?"

"Bluey is really Keith. But he and a mate were deep water fishing and drunk and messing about in the boat. Not a good idea. Something happened and the next thing he knows is a fishing hook as big as my finger hooks through his scrotum and rips it open and severs both balls. Everyone was drunk and panicking. Someone scooped them up and put them in the ice with their beer.

"They turn back to port, but it's about 2 hours and they call the coast guard who came to get him. It still took an hour and a half to get him to the Hospital. But by then they found his balls were frozen solid and impossible to reattach. Normally, people with ginger hair are called Bluey, but in this case, I think you can guess why he got the nickname."

Josie frowned, then shook her head in amusement. "He's Bluey, because he literally had blue balls. Jesus, how crap is that?"

"I didn't name him. But he adopted it and even bribed someone to pickle them in formaldehyde and he carried them around in a little glass jar. Used them as a conversation piece. Although you have to watch him when he's drunk as he would threaten to drop them into your drink."

"Ew!"

"Yep. Anyway then there was Roo, or Rupert. He was like Patrick. Cancer, blah, blah, blah. Only he took to drinking and ended up assaulting his wife and got two years in prison. Lost his wife and kids, as well as his home, because he couldn't adjust."

"How is that a good story to help, Patrick?"

"Because Bluey recognised that an orgasm is not what makes you a man. That is being there for your kids and wife. If she came home from work tired, he'd give her a foot rub if the kids were there. And if they were out, he'd give her a full body massage with a happy ending. He even went to the effort of hiring two lesbian hookers..."

"For his wife or him?"

"His wife, indirectly. Who better to master cunnilingus than a professional? After that, I never saw his wife without a smile on her face and she was more in love with her husband than ever. I didn't know about the hookers at the time when I drunkenly asked his wife their secret. She talked to Bluey and arranged to show me."

"Show you? Not tell you?"

"Turns out she had a thing about me before she met Bluey. She was a bit of an exhibitionist, so I'd already seen her topless and she had a fantasy of having someone watch her. So I watched as Bluey gave me a master class on cunnilingus with his wife's commentary on the side."

"So you just watched?"

"Yeah. I wasn't going to try to step in and fuck up their marriage. And I was doing it as a prop to help fix up my marriage. Not that it worked, even if she commented I was suddenly a lot better."

"Perhaps she thought you were cheating?"

"I'd not thought about that. I should have explained it to her. But what I'm saying is Bluey threw himself into pleasing his wife and got his manliness back from that. That was the point for Patrick. Does he know about those parties?"

"Of course. It was his idea, in a way. Look, this bit is a bit more uncomfortable and I don't want to see you looking at me. Can we lie back on the bed and look at the ceiling?"

"Patrick suggested I find a lover, but that felt too much like cheating."

"Sorry to say this, sis, but how are the parties not?"

"We never normally have actual sex. Normally, it's some sexy naughty fun. A little nudity, some touching, and I go home excited and tell Patrick about it and hopefully I get a chance to regain my husband for a bit."

"You missed out on the blow jobs and fingering. Does he know that bit?"

"Actually, I exaggerate it. He thinks I have full sex each time. Before the other night, technically I'd not fucked a guy at the party."

"Technically? That sounds like a cop-out."

"OK, about my second or third party, during the women's bottomless round, a guy did what you did and turned me around. But he got me to bend over and before I knew it he managed to ram his dick partway inside me. I screamed in shock and the other men dragged him away and threw him out. His wife went ballistic and I think they got divorced."

"Is that it?"

"I suppose Alan counts, but I've never fucked him at a party."

"You've had sex with him?"

"OK, let me explain. A little over two years ago, coming up to Christmas, Patrick was really depressed, and I was desperate to figure out what to do. When I attended our company Christmas party at Alan's house. It's a big house, as you know, and I was driving, because with a two-year-old at home, I didn't fancy a hangover.

"I was in the hall hanging out when I heard two women talking about Alan's parties and I realised one woman was explaining it was a sex party. I couldn't believe it but she was trying to persuade her friend to talk her husband into it. I peeked into the room to see a pair of women in their 50s. They didn't see me and I learned a lot.

"Towards the end of the night, I found Alan sitting in a room alone and I asked him about the parties. He blustered and denied it, but I kept telling him details from the woman and he tried to claim one woman was winding the other up. But he wasn't selling it. I knew he'd fancied me from the day I got the job and I may have used my feminine wiles to try to talk him around.

"I told him about Patrick's problem and how if I attended a party, it might help him. Alan said he'd think about it and declared it was time to end the party. On Christmas Eve, when most of the office was getting ready for the holidays, he called me into his office. He said he was very reluctant to talk about something so private when it might leak out. Especially someone outside his social circle.

"I asked if there was anything to prove I was reliable and discreet. He smiled and said that if a person were to pull their skirt up and sit on his desk with their legs apart, he might think about it. It was naughty, and I'd not have satisfactory sex for 2 years. So I did it. Sitting there with my panties on display. Alan was sitting at his desk and could have reached out to touch me."

"Did he?"

"No, not that time. I felt myself getting very wet, partially for doing it in front of my boss, and that we were at work and someone could walk in on us. I'd never had a rush like that before. After a few minutes of looking, he picked up his mobile phone and started to fiddle with it as if I wasn't there."

"That's a bit rude. I know from experience I'd not look away."

"I realised what he was doing, and I needed to do more to convince him. So I glanced at the door and unbuttoned my blouse and opened it to show off a sexy new bra. Alan was speechless. He'd been trying to sneak a peek for years."

"To be fair sis, you tits are world class. I've seen millions and yours are superior to any others I've ever seen."

"Millions? Yeah, right?" She replied sarcastically.

"I'm a single guy with access to the internet. So it's only 1/2 a million woman, as they generally come in pairs. Plus, there are lots of topless beaches in Oz."

"OK. But it worked. My boobs mesmerised him into telling me about the parties and earned me an invitation to the next one if I wanted. I told him I needed to talk to my husband, and I'd let him know. Patrick was excited about the idea, as he'd always had a fantasy about showing my body off to others. Which came as a surprise to me."

"I can't say I blame him. It's like having the Mona Lisa and not letting anyone know what a lucky bastard you are."

"At the time there weren't that many couples and Tony provided one or two professionals to pad the numbers and they would do more than the wives might do. Anyway, the first party he went without professionals and it was a little tame to test the waters and see if I was up for it. Kissing and touching, but not fingering or blow jobs. Just hand jobs. And I loved it and so did Patrick. He practically begged me to go to the next one.

"He pointed out that the advantage of the parties and the group was I was less likely to get emotionally involved like if I took a single lover. Which I'd not considered at the time."

"Actually, that makes sense. I'm not sure I could be detached to go with my partner though." I replied.

"I have to admit at first I found it sexy fun. But I gradually found I loved the attention and the rush from it. Being naked and touched by pseudo strangers was so hot. Plus, being the youngest woman and lusted over each time was intense. The money was just a bonus."

"I was a bit worried about that, you getting paid..."

"It's not like that!" She snapped.

"Sorry, it's just..."

"I'd keep going at this stage even without the cash. I'm sort of addicted to it. Anyway, we use the money for family holidays. Patrick doesn't know the money comes from the parties. I'd pay it into my bank and claim it was just a work bonus."

"What about Alan, you know Claire knows about the pair of you?"

"I thought as much. We've not been as discrete as we should have been. How do you know Claire's name?"

"After I'd..."

"After you'd fucked your sister to multiple orgasms." Josie said.

"OK, but neither of us knew the other person. Anyway, after you left. I took the sheet away as I knew it was our hostess from her shoes. She checked on Alan to find him passed out and took me to her bed for comfort. Had some fun and took some photos..."

"Can I see them?" She asked eagerly, rolling on her side to look at me.

I picked up my phone, then hesitated. "I really should get her permission, really."

"How?" she asked. They mimed using a phone. "Hello Claire, I'm lying on my bed with number 5, who turns out to be my sister. Mind if I show her our fuck photos?"

"Good point. You really want to see them?"

"It's not like I've not seen her naked. Or you, for that matter. Which is weird."

"But explicit photos of us fucking?"

"It's not like I don't know what fucking you felt like."

"I'll think about it. You said you've not fucked before at these parties. Why the other night?"

"It was you."

"Why me?"

"Everyone else but Tony and I are older, middle-aged couples. Having us there makes it more exciting for them. Spices up their sex lives. But when it's the same people every time. This plateau. Having a new guy who was a big hit in every way lit the touch paper of all the women. Usually, the woman's bottomless round has fewer participants and apart from Maureen and me the others don't allow anything inside."