Going down under

"And the fucking?"

"Don't let it go to your head, and this is nothing against my husbands, but your cock was the biggest I've seen outside porn. I knew I'd never forgive myself if I'd not tried it. After all, I'd been lying to Patrick and saying I'd had sex at each party. Doing it for real didn't seem like such a big deal.

"Until you found the dick belonging to your long-lost brother."

"I know. No matter how much I freaked out when I discovered that. It didn't take away from the fact it was the best sex I've ever had in; ever."

"I know that feeling. It's Sod's law on steroids. I finally found the perfect woman. A woman I'd be prepared to go halfway around the world to be with and she turns out to be married, and my sister. Which is a double kick in the shitter."

"You think I'm perfect?"

"Ok, it's your personality that loses you the perfect title. Physically and sexually, then yeah. Sorry, if it's hard to hear, but even now I can't stop thinking about you sexually."

"Is that why I can see a bulge in your pants?"

"Sorry, but it was the best sex ever. The only downside was I couldn't have you to myself instead of the other men and women there. I want to..."

"What? Cuz you did a heck of a lot."

"I wanted to take you up and hold you in my arms. More than just sex, I wanted to be with you. Forever."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Sorry if that's too much."

"Actually, it's kinda sweet. A bit soppy for you. But it makes me feel better. With the others, it's just a bit of fun, but it's deeper with you. Knowing you feel that way takes some of the curse off it."

"What about Alan? You said you had sex, but not at the parties?"

"OK. I'm not so proud of this bit, and I've not told Patrick about it. He thinks I've already fucked him at the parties, so when it started I decided to not tell him. And now I don't think I can. It was a little over a year ago. About half the guests cancelled at the last minute with a flu outbreak. But the party went ahead, with only 5 guys, including Alan.

"All four of the others didn't make it past the blow job round, and Alan only made it because I was trying not to annoy his wife. As she knew he was sniffing around me."

"Literally I bet. Your pussy did taste very tasty."

"I can't believe my brother knows what I taste like. Anyway, you know any guy who blows leaves the party, so the party ended early despite them begging to ignore that rule one time. I was really disappointed as I was looking forward to the next round. Alan wasn't drinking that night as he had medical tests the next day and offered to drive me home.

"We both complained about how the evening had ended and I admitted I was so horny about missing out on being fingered. So he offered to help me out and got me to remove my panties in his car and reached over to finger me as he drove. It was nice, but kinda awkward for both of us. I offered to give him a blow job and he could cum that time. But he admitted he'd always wanted to go down on me properly. Instead of just a lick in front of his wife.

"When he suggested we divert via the office to have a little fun, I was all up for it. The time on his desk had left a fantasy to do it at work high on my list. He stripped me naked, and I knelt under his desk to suck him and finished the job properly that time. Then he lifted me onto his desk and went down on me."

"Sorry sis." I interrupted and pushed my hand into my pants to move my erection to a more comfortable position.

"It's ok, well not really, but after the other night and the subject matter I understand. I'm a little moist myself."

"Don't tell me that!" I moaned, and she giggled.

"Anyway, he was lapping away at my juicy, hungry pussy." She said, playing up the sexiness. "After he got me off, I was starting to recover when he stood and just put it in me."

"Really. You didn't stop him?"

"First, I'd been claiming to my husband we'd done it before, and second you saw me the other night, once I climax, I need more. So while it wasn't 'you' sex, it was still good. But I think part of that was the location and the risk."

"I know that. I dated a girl once who claimed she could only get off with the risk of getting caught."

"Like where?"

"Beaches obviously. A construction site of a skyscraper. Overlooking an office full of people. We definitely were seen, but got finished and away before anyone came for us. The last time was on a balcony overlooking a sports bar. Someone, saw us and got the CCTV feed to show us fucking on every screen."

"So you're a porn star? It explains your size now."

"Twice over, it seems."

"What do you mean?"

"Claire has a video of us as well as the photos."

"Damn, I wonder if I can persuade her to show me it next time we meet."

"Isn't it awkward around her with what you and Alan did?"

"Do." She corrected me and sighed. "And given what we do at the parties, we sort of pretend things don't happen. It is a fallacy, but we hide behind it. After that one time in the office, we started messing around at work. Nothing too bad."

"Like what?"

"He'd call me into his office to review some figures I'd done. I'd stand next to his chair, and he'd slip his hand up under my skirt and fondle my bum or brush his finger over my pussy through my panties." She giggled. "I remember I nearly wet myself when someone poked their head into his room to say the next appointment was waiting for him."

"Did they see?"

"No, but they must have seen me flushed. Other times, I'd be in his chair and changing figures on the screen. He'd reach over my shoulder and slip his hand down my blouse and into my bra." She looked over, and I saw she was looking at my crotch before looking away.

"I remember the look on his face when I said we had to stop doing stuff in the office. My relatively low position in the office didn't justify the number of times I'd been in the office with him. You could tell he thought I was trying to screw him over to a promotion or something. It took quite some persuading to convince him I wasn't."

"Let me guess, something sexual?"

"It was stupidly dangerous when I think back, but I wasn't thinking. I got topless and got under his desk and sucked him off while he played with my tits. After that, we limited it to once a month or so, but we also started to go back to his place when Claire was out. Oh god! This is worse than I thought when I lay it all out. Isn't it?"

"It's not great. First question is, do you have feelings for Alan? Remember Patrick's comment about safety in a group?"

"No, not really. The sex is ok if I'm honest, but it's that he takes charge and the rush from the risk."

"And the risks are going up. You're twisting things to fit a definition that suits you."

"Meaning?"

"You twist the fact you claimed to have sex with Alan to justify having an affair."

"It's not an affair?"

"Are you fucking, just the two of you in secret and not telling Patrick? That sounds like an affair. And fucking your boss with his wife aware is extra dangerous. She could out your activities, force him to get rid of you or split up. Then the other night, you agreed to fuck a random stranger without a condom just because you liked the look of his dick."

"Fuck! What if..."

"Don't worry, after I left my wife, I got checked out just in case and I'm clean. But you were thinking with a hungry vag and not your brain."

"What should I do?"

"Change jobs, stop seeing Alan and stop going to the parties."

"I'm not sure I can. Does that make me a bad person?"

"I'd never think I'll of you, sis. How about this, you like someone to take charge? Talk to Patrick and explain that to him. Tell him about your love of being shown off and then arrange for the pair of you to join a sex club."

"Seriously?"

"The active members get health screening and you can wear masks if you want. Get stripped and touched, but under Patrick's supervision. If you're his to control, he doesn't have to perform sexually, but can decide if you do or don't. It may make him feel more like a man with every male and female lusting after you."

"Women?"

"I almost feel it's unfair to women in general to never have the chance to experience your oral skills." Josie shuddered. "You ok."

"Yeah, I just had a very intense image of being extremely naughty with a woman."

"You like the idea. I can tell." Josie blushed. "I'm just saying a club like that you can try anything you want without the consequences of involving friends."

"Or family. Is that uncomfortable?" she nodded to my bulge. "It must be given your size."

"It is."

"I wouldn't care if you made yourself more comfortable." She said it trying to sound casual and looking away.

"Why?"

She glanced at me briefly. "If you won't show me the photos of you and Claire. I wouldn't mind another look at it. "

"But the other night..."

"The other night I either had 11 other women vying to look and touch it. Or it was stuck in my mouth and I'd be crossed eyed looking at it. And then..."

"I know. I pounded your perfect pussy. You really just want to look?" She nodded. "What about your freak out the other night?"

"What about your mate, Dale? We can't change what happened. You were right. Until I knew it was you. It was an amazing night. I cannot pretend it didn't happen or that I totally loved it. You've been gone nearly half my life and you're a virtual stranger. If I think of you as a long-lost friend, I can accept that.

"Now I've actually fucked people at a party. I want to get the details right to tell Patrick."

"You've not told him yet?"

"No, with mum and dad's party I've not had the chance."

"Do you just want me to unzip?"

"If you're offering, I'd love to see you fully naked. Seeing you a bit at a time isn't the same."

"You owe me!"

"Brother, I owe you more than I can ever repay by throwing your life away for me."

"It's worked out better for me if it hadn't. Here, I'm not sure what I'd have done. Probably prison time, or worse." I stripped off my shirt and watched Josie's expression.

"OK, I've never really liked a big guy with muscles, but you look great."

"Most of it is from real work and not just bulking up at the gym." I was trying to be casual as I unfastened my trousers and dropped them and my boxers.

Josie inhaled sharply as her eyes locked on my erection. After long seconds, she gestures I should turn around.

"Even I got embarrassed by some comments about your bum." I flexed my muscles and turned back to face her.

"I heard some."

"You know, I think you hit the DNA jackpot."

"Right back at you, sis."

She padded the bed next to her.

"Come and lie next to me so I can get a closer look."

The part of my brain that usually warned me when something was wrong. Was currently in a different state, if not another time zone.

I lay on the bed within reach of my sister and watched as a tiny drop of pre-cum emerged from my erection.

"God, you do not know how sexy that is. I've never seen a guy wank before."

"Really?"

"OK, a few strokes, but they stop in case they cum."

"If you're there while they do it and naked. Or even a little naked. I can't say I blame them."

"Would you do it for me?"

"Seriously?"

"Please, for me?"

I reached down, and she stopped me.

"Wait, I need to gauge how big it is."

She held her hand out and placed the heel of her hand against my crotch and extended her hand up alongside it. Her fingers touched me for a moment and apologies as I flinched.

"That's about a hand and half, long. And; may I?" I nodded to agree regardless of what she wanted.

Her thumb and middle finger curled around the shaft. Barely touching me, but it still felt like fires of pleasure from her touch. She moved further down the bed to get a closer look at the gap between her fingertips.

"OK, that explains a lot. I'd need a second thumb to get all the way around."

She tried to show, but in doing so moved her other fingers, wanking me a little.

"Sorry, you were supposed to do that."

I replaced her fingers with my hand and stroked myself. Peeling back the foreskin to reveal the nearly purple glans beneath.

"Fuck, that's so sexy. I've no idea why, but seeing that reminds me of aliens exploding from your chest. But in a sexy way."

"I'll have to take your word for that."

"A woman's body doesn't change that much for sex. Stiff nipples and clit. A little puffiness of the labia and that's about it. You have a floppy sausage thing between your legs most of the time. Then you get this! A scary monster that is scarcely good and overriding my brain and overriding my libido."

I was wanking slowly and trying to think of stubbing my toe against the bed legs, or a fat granny on a topless beach.

"Stop." She said, and I froze. "You've got too much pre-cum. Wipe some up and spread it over the head."

I did as she requested and watched the glans glistened. Josie bit her lip.

"Get some more." There was plenty leaking out.

I was about to add more to my skin, when she pulled my hand off and closer to her face.

"I've never really studied it. I mean, I've seen it but..." She leant closer and sniffed it then shivered.

"OK?"

"Yeah, sorry. It's just a very potent smell."

"Bad?" I asked.

"No, it. OK. When I was a girl, cum was icky and gross. Mine or anyone else's. Then I got older, and I accepted it without loving it. When I got married, my mind switched to loving it. Not knowing that I'd be robbed of it after his condition."

She surprised me by lapping the pre-cum off my fingertip.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have done that." She started to shake, and I grabbed her and pulled her into my arms.

"It's ok."

"No it's not. It's fucked up. All I can think about is your dick. I want to suck it, I want to fuck it. I even want you to take my virgin arse. And I know that's terrible on every level. I'm out of control."

As she said that, her hand wrapped around my shaft to wank me.

"Stop." I managed to say. Torn between doing the right thing and supporting my sister and giving into pleasure.

She started to cry, and I slipped off the bed and quickly redressed, then took her into my arms again. Swearing mentally, that I'd missed a chance for sex with the most wonderful girl in the world. But the most wonderful girl in the world was my sister and blood is thicker than water. A rebellious part of my mind asked if it's thicker than cum.

After ten minutes, she pulled herself together and sat up.

"You OK?" I asked.

"No, I'm fucking not!" she snapped.

"What can I do?"

"Do you really want to know?" I nodded. "If you won't let me fuck you, you could at least get me off. If I try to drive home now, I'm likely to kill someone."

I chuckled, then held my hand up to mollify her.

"How about I show you what Bluey taught me? Then you can teach Patrick what I learned. I promise it's worth it."

Josie's reply was to jump up and struggle to tug off her jeans. I pushed her onto the bed and knelt, removed her shoes and then her jeans and panties. She gave me a look that combined nervousness, and lust. Pressing her legs apart, I marvelled at my first true look at her pussy.

The memory of the photos of Claire as I fucked her forced their way into my head. But replaced with the image of my fat dick pressing in there. I shook my head then spent 30 minutes proving Bluey had spent his money wisely. Hiring specialists was a brilliant idea.

Something that my trembling sister finally agreed with after three orgasms.

"Bruce. I think I know why you drive a truck now. It would be too awkward to deal with the thousands of women swarming your house when they know you can do that. Fuck me."

"I wanted to. I want to." I corrected.

Josie hugged me hard. "I know Bruce. I want to. More than anything. Do you think we can hold out for the time you're here?"

"If we're never alone, then probably."

"Want me to blow you?"

I shook my head as my body screamed denial, and she left.

Finding a gym that accepted walk-in people, I worked out with weights. At first impressing the other people, then amazing them as I piled on the weight. I was punishing myself for everything that had happened. It was stupid, but I needed the pain.

It was only after I finished that the cute receptionist slipped me a card for a massage parlour I might like. For a moment, I considered calling Tony and getting Tanya's contact details. But I could only vaguely remember if she was any good or not.

I got a painful massage from a fat Korean guy who would have earned good money with the Stasi. Then headed to my parents. After about a dozen cups of tea, trying to fill 15 years of my life in a single session. Dad had mellowed, or accepted like I did, that moving to Oz was better for me than staying. I got away, to hit a pub.

It was tempting to get wrecked, but I'd not eaten at all. So headed to find a chip shop, hoping it was as good as I remembered as a kid. Finding it shut spoiled my mood, which was soured more, as I found another chippy and found four drunk teenage youths harassing the other customers.

A couple of younger, teenage girls seemed to be the focus of their attention. Cringing at the crude comments and causing an older man to fume, but his wife was holding him back. The first they noticed me was when I placed heavy hands on two of their shoulders.

They were too drunk to take in the full effect as they looked around and up. And I realised I'd made a mistake. Small drunk men stupidly see a big guy and decide to go for it. I got the chance to glance at the guy in charge of the chip shop and gestured to the phone before two of them rushed me.

The fight was short, but not unbloody. I got them outside, and when they produced blades of various forms, I put them down. One had a classic cut-throat razor and the rest parcel knives. A nastier proposition and one I knew how to deal with. It's pretty simple. Violence!

I'm big, but not slow. Although not quick enough to go unscathed. But I figured the ending score was worth it. One puking from a kick in the balls, another unconscious from being introduced to a passenger window with his face at speed. And the last two cracked or broken ribs. I had a shallow cut just above my eyebrow that pissed blood and looked worse than it was.

And two slightly deeper cuts on my forearms. But the pain was burned away by my explosion of activity after what happened with Josie. The police arrived and arrested all five of us and we were taken to A&E to be treated.

Four butterfly stitches for my forehead. Which was a posh way of saying paper sticky things. But 12 old school fashioned stitches to my arms. The cuts weren't deep but long, and unlike my forehead, they needed to be stronger to cope with the movement of my muscles in my forearms.

The doctor who did them apologised, but I just held out my scared and mutilated left hand.

"My legs are worse." I added.

He was just finishing up when a familiar face walked into the cubicle, and I groaned.

"Well, well, well, a familiar face. Mr Byron Bruce Baker. Long-time no see."

"Hello Mr Carter." He'd been the one to arrest me and take me to court and nearly to prison.

"It's Inspector now."

"Congratulations. It couldn't happen to a nicer guy." He looked at me. Expecting ridicule or sarcasm. "I mean it. You were a stand-up guy. Played fair and it wasn't your fault I got off."

He frowned and consulted a piece of paper before going in.

"We've not encountered you for over 15 years, so that means..."

"Australia." I interjected. "I can give you references."

"Actually, I don't think I need to. We saw the shop's CCTV and have witness statements that say you tried to stop them hassling people."

I shrugged as well as I could as the doctor was finishing the last stitch.

"Hold still please?"