I Dream of Jenny

One Sunday morning I was hanging out at Jenny's place when there was a knock at the front door. Jenny answered and a policeman stood at the door. The news he brought was the first major trauma of our lives: Mom and Dad were in a car crash. Dad was DOA at the hospital, Mom lasted about an hour. Jenny and I cried and held each other for the longest time.

The next day, we took leaves of absences from our jobs and caught a flight to LA. We made funeral arrangements for Mom and Dad, and set up residence in the family home. We slept in the Mom and Dad's king size bed. No sex, we just held each other close all night. Our grief was bearable because it was shared--it was crushing enough as it was.

Over the next days we took care of everything else that needed doing, and Jenny and I were making plans for selling the house, which we now co-owned. Mom and Dad were not rich but were comfortably well off. We could afford lengthy leaves of absence from our jobs.

I said "Sis, why don't we not sell the house right away and live here a while? My boss will let me work remotely, maybe you can too for a while, see patients on video chat?" Jenny readily agreed.

By now we were well past the no sex stage of our grief and we made good frequent use of the king size bed. We tried oral for the first time. To say we loved it would it be a massive understatement. Let's say that if heaven has a taste, it tastes like Jenny's clit.

I remember our first time well, by now I'd done this enough to have some skill but I really loved experimenting with what turns her on best. Indirect pressure then direct licking when she's aroused enough combined with a finger stroking her g-spot seemed to work every time. Me, I'm the Will Rodgers of BJs: I never met a blowjob I didn't like, though I admit squeezing or slapping my balls is a fun touch, and Jenny always knows how much force works best.

I particularly enjoyed it when she snaked a finger up my asshole and massaged my prostate while I was cumming--it felt like I shot enough to fill a ten gallon hat.

We explored the old neighborhood. All the people we knew except Sam and Amy were gone, and our secret was safe with them, so we loved each other openly here in LA as well. Sam and Amy remained close and we often double dated. Amy is a fine woman and rather easy on the eyes. It brings me joy that she's happy with Sam, but she has that same fatal flaw as every woman on earth save one: she isn't Jenny.

Down deep in my heart, there is no woman on earth except Jenny. There never has been and never will be. She is my own soul in another body. She is ME. An irresistibly sexy me with flame red hair. No doubt the universe is unfolding as it should, therefor I am at peace with God, whatever I don't conceive Him to be.

Seeing Sam and Amy together was heart warming, but made Jenny and I quite aware we wanted what they had. I knew we couldn't take that final step. Jenny and I both wanted kids, but we couldn't have them together, and neither of us could hope to find a partner who could understand and accept our love. We pondered this for a good long time.

One day Jenny said, "Bro, I love what we're doing and we'll never stop, but I need more--I need you inside me. I know I can't invite you into my pussy, but if you went in through the back door..."

Well if you ever run across a book entitled The Joys of Anal, you can be sure Jenny and I coauthored it. Cumming inside her was a whole new level of wonderful. Yet it left us yearning for the real thing, that which we couldn't ever have. It was bent beyond recognition, but the taboo wasn't technically broken.

Our first time was a really hurts so good experience for Jenny, and she enjoyed repeating it on many occasions, she still loves anal as I write this. I seriously doubt Mom, Dad, or the pastor would have approved. Now ask me if I give a damn.

Sam is the best friend a man could ask for. I confided in him, every word I've written here and more and Sam answered, "I know a guy..." One of Sam's other friends was a surgeon. Sam brought him to our house and Jenny and I spoke to him.

Doc said "you two are the weirdest case I've ever encountered, but count me in. I am bound by medical confidentiality in any case, and I will also swear secrecy. I will make sure the OR staff is kept in the dark to ensure none of them talk. Give me a few days to set things up."

Jenny was ecstatic that the risk of pregnancy would now be at Devil's miracle levels. In the meantime, we planned our lives together. Since Jenny had always had severely troublesome periods, she opted for a hysterectomy rather than tubal ligation. She didn't want to take the remotest risk of bearing a hopelessly deformed child. We used the waiting time to begin planning our life together.

Jenny said, "you know, I've been planning to start my own practice anyway. I could convert my old bedroom into a office and we could build a separate entrance for patients. I can continue my current cases by video conference, and find new patients in LA. Let's live together in this house."

I answered, "I've been working remotely for months. I can ask to do it permanently. My old room is already set up with all the computer equipment I need. If my boss won't agree, I can give notice and find a job in LA, or freelance. Let's do this!"

We had enough of Mom and Dad's estate left that financing the transition would not be a problem. My joy knew no bounds. Jenny's hysterectomy went smoothly, and during her recuperation, I had a talk with her.

"Jenny, this is really happening, we will truly be together like we've always wanted. We will be shattering the last taboo. I have a surprise for you. I have done some hard core hacking and erased every piece of evidence that we are brother and sister. You, me, Amy, Sam, and your surgeon are the only people who know. Doc didn't have to lie much, you had some precancerous stuff going on, but not bad enough to need a hysterectomy yet, though he was sure you would sooner or later. Sam assures me his word can be depended on."

"So we are free to love each other openly anywhere in the world for the rest of our lives. We would even pass scrutiny with an adoption agency. So we really can have kids together, you just won't be giving birth to them."

I pulled a ring out of my pocket and continued, "Jenny, will you marry me?"

Jenny took not a split second to think it over, "yes, Matt, a thousand times yes!" So we went to the courthouse the next morning, got the license, and were married that afternoon which brings us back to where this story started.

I hesitated about the time it took to read this tale. Jenny didn't mind. Twin think was in overdrive, and her mind was telling this same story from her perspective. I entered her slowly, just the tip at first, not tentatively, but deliberately drawing out the moment. I kept going a little deeper with each stroke. She grabbed my butt to pull me in even further. When I bottomed out she came, screaming in ecstasy and crying for pure joy. She clawed me--worth every blessed drop of blood.

This triggered my own orgasm, and we just melted together. I could hear her thoughts, and she could hear mine. For the first time and yet ever and always since the beginning, we were one.

That was ten years ago. We are still ecstatically happy. My boss went one better on my remote work suggestion, and put me in charge of our new LA office. Jenny has been quite successful in her career and has been published in prestigious psychology journals but much more importantly helped heal many suffering patients.

Her specialty is helping heal the trauma of involuntary incest (which incest is 99% of the time, and that is the darkest of sins), but she's one of the very few that can help the 1%. Some of those couples find the strength to run from it, others find the strength to run with it. I have a nice little side business faking documents--I also do this work for Witness Protection.

Two years later, we got a call from Doc. He knew we were looking to adopt. A woman had died in childbirth. She had been cared for at his hospital and he was familiar with her case. She had been promiscuous, and the father could have been any of twenty different men--she'd attended many gang bangs. None of them had any interest in claiming paternity. She lived just long enough to see their faces and give them names. They were a twin boy and girl, Frank and Zoe.

Doc made arrangements and we took them home with us. Child Protective Services approved an emergency placement. No relative ever claimed them, we knew no one would. When the waiting period was up, we adopted them. Raising them is a joy, notwithstanding that they love creative mischief making.

When they are old enough, we will tell them about their mom. We will keep no more secrets than we must. Frank and Zoe are as inseparable as Jenny and I were, but they show no signs of sexual attraction. Then again neither did we at that age.

If history repeats, we are uniquely qualified to help. We will tell them the family secret, and help them decide whether to really back away from it in truth or to go for it will all they've got, however their hearts choose. Either way they won't waste years of halfhearted attempts to split the difference.

I still call myself an agnostic. But I doubt my doubts. I have the inescapable feeling that I have been given a gift, a gift of immeasurable value. Is the giver God? I know not. Would God give a gift forbidden by literally every scripture of every faith on this planet? But if not He, then who? Who gave me this gift with the flame red hair?

Author's Notes:

Incest is a genre I enjoy reading. I figured I would enjoy writing it, and my prediction was correct. Incest is a popular genre, and twincest is a popular sub-genre. I can't think of a more ultimate taboo that is still at least potentially consensual. 99+% of cases of incest in real life are not. The perpetrators of the 99+ have my personal invitation to burn in hell. The 1- where consenting adults who happen to be related really genuinely desire to love each other this way have my blessing.

I have no desire to engage in the abortion debate/firestorm and will not do so. Apart from that, fire away with both barrels. Love my story on it's own merits, or hate it on its own demerits as you see fit, and tell me about it in whatever level of detail you care to.

In my story, I am critical of my characters' evangelical upbringing. This is not intended as a critique of evangelical Christianity as such, only a certain repressive "if you enjoy it, it's a sin" variety of it. I do so as an insider. I am a Christian and would consider myself evangelical, though not exactly perfectly orthodox--I couldn't write erotica if I were. In my opinion, the churches have focused too much on trying to legislate sexual morality and not enough on sharing the good news of God's love. Apologies if I offend anyone by saying this.

It is my firm belief that all love is God's love, and that all loving sex of whatever variety is closely akin to holiness. Now stop reading and go out and get some good loving, and more importantly, give some.