My Brother's Wife

This story is loosely based on a real event. I dedicate it to one of my best friends and shipmates. All characters are 18. This story does involve incest and mentions rape. If these topics trigger you, please move on. If you or anyone you know is suffering with mental issues, PLEASE SEEK PROFESSIONAL HELP! There is almost nothing that can't be fixed! Also, take time to thank anyone you meet that has served this country and stood the watch. Also, leave comments with a name! THX DBO!

*****

The blare of my alarm clock shook me from my slumber. The infernal machine was irritating me to no end. With one eye open, I slapped the plastic disruptor, quieting the noise box. Standing, I padded my tired bones to the bathroom for my first whizz of the day. Washing my hands and brushing my teeth, my next stop was to the kitchen. My body was in desperate need of caffeine. Opening the fridge, I stared at the empty container.

"Shit." I spit.

This was shaping up to be the worst month in my entire life. It all started on a wind swept morning, the sound of the air slashing against my window arousing me before my alarm clock. Only to be greeted with an empty bed. The phone call from my ex-girlfriend Rhonda saying she "needed space..." or whatever the fuck that meant. If it hadn't been for the male voice chuckling in the background, I might have fought to keep her. Instead, my morning was spent chucking her crap into 6 plastic garbage bags and throwing them out in the hall of my apartment building. Not giving two shits if she picked them up or they got taken by some Nair-do-wells that lived there. The next bit of bad news came at the luncheon at work. We were all told that the start-up tech company that so many of us had put our blood, sweat, tears, long hours and short breaks into, had been sold off by that no-good ass boss of ours Todd. The bastard didn't even have the common decency to let us know that the new company wasn't keeping anyone on, outside of upper management, because the offices were being moved to San Diego. Instead, Karen (the beached whale), was given the task of telling everyone they had been fired by close of business.

Yet, all that would have been palatable compared to the final phone call I got as I sat at my computer working my side-gig to keep my bills paid for the month.

"I regret to inform you, that your brother; Staff Sergeant Bruce Wallace, was found deceased this morning in Hanover Park. Because you are listed as his next of kin...blah, blah, blah"

I found myself looking at an empty refrigerator. My body working on the auto pilot of trying to produce my morning coffee, to jumpstart my brain. The plastic jug that held my grounds was practically empty. Only filled with a half teaspoon. Not enough to make a cup of instamatic sludge, much less a pot of good brew to get the day started. Walking to the pantry, I looked in my Hot Cocoa can. Also, empty. Rhonda emptied it before she went to suck some other motha'fucka's dick (the thirsty bitch). With no other alternative, I grabbed the last hot tea bag I had, and hoped it would be enough. I put a pot of water on the stove before I sat at my computer.

Logging in, I first checked my email account to see if I had any hits on my resumes. Not so surprisingly, other than spam mail, nothing so far. My next search was to the unemployment site. I would have been more shocked if it came back "approved." Yet, like yesterday, the screen only blazed the word; "Pending." Running my hand over my hair, I was about ready to scream, when the shrill tone of my phone stabbed through the fog of my sleep addled brain. Striding to my bedroom I picked up my phone and froze. My heart skipping several beats. The caller ID on the screen reading; "Bruce BB." I dropped the machine as I couldn't comprehend how I was getting a call from my dead big brother. I was just at his funeral last week. The sounds of the 11-gun salute still ringing in my ears. Upon hitting the floor, my phone went silent. I shook my head as the bang it made cut through the memory. Picking it up, I slapped my head. The damn screen was cracked all the way across.

"Smooth Franklin. Real smooth. Another stupid thing to have to fix."

I had just put the phone in the pocket of my pajama pants when the altered ring and vibration startled me. Again, the ID came up "Bruce." Immediately, a host of tv shows popped in my head, where people had been contacted from the other side in various ways. I wondered if I answered it, would the ghostly sound of my beloved dead brother's voice come through to tell me "he was okay" or "I miss you bro?" On the last ring, I punched the answer key. Awaiting what would happen next.

A string of unintelligible Spanish rushed over the line. I had to hold the phone away from my ear it was so loud. "Hello?! Helllllloooo?!" I shouted.

"Franky?! Franky?!!" Came the distraught voice. "Are you there Franky?!!"

Though it took my sleep addled, caffeine deprived mind a second, my brain kicked into gear hearing the feminine sound of panic. Now it made sense. I forgot all about my brother's wife, Dominique.

"Yeah...I'm here. Where's the fire?!"

"AI DOS MIO!! NO FIRE!! HELP ME POR FAVOR!!

"What's going on?!"

"There's water everywhere!!"

"OK...don't panic, I'll be right over!!"

Punching the end call button, I frantically dressed in the t-shirt and jeans I had on the night before. Last stop was to my hall closet to grab my bag of tools, my car keys off the hook in the living room, and out the door. As I drove to my brother's old house, my mind raced back 6 years ago to when I first met Dominique.

I was in the Navy, stationed on the USS Cape St. George out of San Diego. We were just pulling in from our 6-month Westpac. The pier was overflowing with family, friends and loved ones for the returning sailors. I wasn't expecting anyone to show up. The last I heard; Bruce was still stationed at Port Hueneme. Mom and Dad still lived in Virginia, and my last girlfriend transferred to Norfolk a full year ago. Walking off the prow, a sea bag of dirty clothes over my shoulder, I heard my name being shouted above the din of the collective throng. From out of nowhere, Bruce wrapped me in the biggest bear hug ever! His strong squeeze curving the 3 rows of ribbons on my summer white uniform.

"Bruce!" I said in utter surprise. "What are you doing here?!"

"Came to see you come in Big guy! Annnnnnndddd..."

Pointing his hand in the direction of a huge sign with my name on it, the sign dropped to show one of the most beautiful (and exotic) faces I had ever seen. An angelic, oval face framed by the longest, curliest, most luxurious, past shoulder length mane of black hair I had ever seen. Her big, round, brown eyes just drew you in. Her impish smile reminded you of unicorns and Menudo posters. All stacked atop a frame that couldn't have been taller than 5,4"-5,6" in heels. If I didn't know my brother any better, I would say he should be arrested for trolling the local high schools!

"This...is my new wife. Dominique."

My mouth dropped open (what else did you expect me to do). Not only had my beloved big brother come to claim me from my ship and my lonely existence. But he was showing off his NEW, YOUNG, SMOKING HOT WIFE to boot!

"Hi." I said extending my hand.

She smiled nervously as her hand touched mine. A slight bolt of electricity shocking us as we touched. "Hola. It's nice to meet you Franklin." Her English was clipped. Doused in a heavy Spanish accent.

"What you got in there bro?"

"Nothing much...just some laundry. You know how it is."

"LAUNDRY?!! You mean to tell me you don't have any connections with the SK's (Storekeepers) onboard that you know can wash that stuff, so you can go out and PARTY on the first night home?! What kind of a 2nd class sailor are you?!"

"The kind that hates others looking at his skivvies."

"What's your schedule like anyway?"

"You know...we just pulled in. All the computers are off. Skeleton crew for the next week. If you don't have to be here for duty...you don't have to be here. Just call in before 6 for muster."

"That settles it. Come on...you're coming home with us and you're not going to be moping around this tired old ship for your time off. We're going to PARTY!!"

That night, Bruce drove me to his housing in Port Hueneme. All night long, he introduced me to his Marine and Sailor friends from the base. Showing me off like a brand-new car. I met so many new sailors and their wives that I really got along with. However, you don't spend time with a Marine and NOT get to drink. The alcohol flowed as we ate some of the spiciest, most delicious BBQ that I had tasted in years. Before I knew it, my weakness for alcohol began to show. The months spent at sea diminishing my body's ability to filter out the spirits. When I awoke, the sun was beaming through the windows in his living room. Someone had placed a sheet over my comatose body where I had passed out from the night before. As I moved my aching body (and most especially my head), I heard tiny feet walk across the carpet in my direction. Dominique padded over to me as I rested my back against their couch.

"Here." She whispered. Her thick Spanish accent ringing through. In one hand she placed a couple pills that looked like aspirin. In the other, a steaming cup of black coffee. "Thank you." Was all I could muster. Slamming the pills home, I followed that with the coffee. My face scrunching up from the lack of cream and sugar.

"THERE HE IS!! THE MAN! THE MYTH! THE LEGEND...FRANKYYYYYYY WAAAAALLLLLLAAACCCCEEEEE!!" Bruce yelled almost at the top of his lungs. "I GOTTA HAND IT TO YOU NAVY BOYS!! I HAVE NEVER SEEN A MAN SLEEP SO SOUNDLY ON A HARD FLOOR BEFORE!! AND THE WAY YOU STARTED STRIPPING IN FRONT OF THE LADIES LAST NIGHT!! EPIC!! YOUR PANTS SHOULD HAVE ABOUT $200 EXTRA DOLLARS IN THEM LIL BRO!! So...HOW YA' FEELING THIS MORNING?!!"

As if to answer his question, I arose from the floor like a speed demon, almost knocking poor Dominique over on my way to the bathroom in the hallway. Everything I had eaten last night and for the past 6 months came spewing out as an offering to my brother's porcelain God. As I hurled, all I could hear was my big brother's bellicose laughter.

Pulling up to the house, I hopped out of my car and raced to the front door. Dominique answered looking a hot, wet mess. Dressed in only a knee length nighty, Dominique was wet all the way from her head to her nicely manicured toes.

I was immediately ravaged with a string of rapid-fire Spanish. It's too bad I flunked Spanish in middle school (twice). I couldn't understand a word she was saying. Sensing my confusion, Dominique grabbed my wrist and hauled me into the house. When I saw the kitchen, I understood instantly. The faucet was running, a steady fountain spraying into the air and all over the floor. The linoleum was covered by at least a ¼ inch of water that was pooling as I stood watching.

Springing into action, I got on my knees in the puddle and opened the cabinet. Throwing household cleaners this way and that, I finally got to the water controls and shut off the spout. Sensing her at my side, I stood up and looked at my sister-in-law. Just like the first day I met her, she stood short as a fire hydrant. Her hair was wet to the shoulder, steadily dripping into the pool. Her big doe like eyes were red and tired looking. The water having soaked her face, making her look as if she had been crying (in the circumstances, had she). The most glaring thing about her though, was her night gown, that was soaked all the way through the thin material. Clinging to her flawless chestnut colored skin. Unfortunately, she wore nothing else underneath her covering. Save for the pink panties that covered her mound. Her nipples, stiff and threatening to poke holes in the front of her gown.

"Oh, thank you for coming Franky. I wouldn't know what to do without you." She said.

"Not a problem. I wasn't doing anything anyway."

"God, what a mess. I'll be cleaning this up all day."

"Not if I help you with it. Remember, I was in the Navy. I did this kind of stuff for a living. You got a bucket and mop?"

"Yeah." She replied. "They're right over here in the pantry."

Striding over to the closet, I got to see Dominique's "assets" for the first time. I had seen many Latinas during my time in the service and none of them had the round, shapely ass that my sister-in-law possessed. I felt a tingle in my crotch. My little head awakening as my eyes took in the pink panty clad beauty. Dominique walked back over to me and handed me the cleaning implements I asked for. Yet, against my conscious wishes, my eyes betrayed me. Dominique caught me looking at the nipples straining against the material of her gown. Feeling ashamed, I averted my gaze and tried not to blush.

"Uhhhh...I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

"It's ok Franky. I forgot to put anything on before I called you. Give me a minute to change."

Dominique strode to the back of her house. Her feet making nary a sound.

"Fuck Franky, that was really stupid." I reprimanded myself. "She's Bruce's wife! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid..." Not thinking about it, I began to slap my head repeatedly.

"What the hell are you doing Franky?"

I didn't hear Dominique come up behind me even though she had covered her feet in sandals. To match the knee high, denim jeans and the deep red shirt she wore with the words, "I am a Marine wife...SEMPER FIDELIS."

"Nothing Dominique. Just thinking about..."

"Ah! Don't even go there. It happened, you're a man, it's ok. Let's just move on." Dominique said. A slight smile on her lips.

The cleanup process went by quickly. Between Dominique and I (and years of experience I gained in the Navy); we got the kitchen cleaned in a jiffy. The long part came when I tried to take apart the faucet to ascertain what went wrong. My experience in the Navy had trained me to be a computer analyst. Able to take them apart, put them back together and troubleshoot them more or less with my eyes closed. I was not however trained to turn a wrench. Don't get me wrong, I have turned a screw or two in my life. But I was not some mechanical genius. After about 20 minutes, I figured out that the washer and bearing in the sink had been ruptured and needed replacing.

"Okay Dominique. I found the problem. There are just a couple things that need replacing. I can pick them up from the hardware store if you like."

"Thanks, wait just a second." She disappeared, giving me another glance at her toned legs and her luscious behind. She ran back a few moments later and shoved a $50 in my hand. "Would you mind fixing it for me? I don't want to wait on a repair guy."

"Sure. No sweat." My dick tingled again. Looking into her big brown eyes, her flawless, youthful skin, and the touch of her feather light fingers in mine...I was close to saying something inappropriate.

I felt ten times better after I climbed in my car and got on the road to the hardware store. The close proximity to my sister-in-law was making my sex starved body crave the touch of a woman. Going in the store, was like handing me a sheet of hieroglyphics and asking for a translation. I had no idea where to start. It took about 8 minutes of my walking up and down the BATHROOM aisle before a kind worker named Darcy, took pity on me. In about the time it takes to make a 3-minute egg, I had the parts and additional accoutrements necessary to fix the faucet.

When I returned, Dominique greeted me with the biggest smile. As I worked on the faucet (only barely having a clue as to what I was doing), Dominique made it a habit of every now and then looking over my shoulder to check on the progress. Because of her stature, she might have had no idea how she was effecting me. Her soft, round breast would push into my back. The contact making my dick begin to throb. Several times, I had to lean myself into the counter-top just to hide my arousal.

"Almost done Franky?"

"It might take another couple minutes." I responded. Just then a body racking yawn escaped my mouth. "Phew. Sorry."

"Oh my god! Are you still sleepy? I didn't wake you this morning did I?"

"No. I was awake." I said as I turned the screw. "I just missed my coffee. I ran out. I had some tea ready, but then you called."

"I'm so sorry! Why didn't you say something silly man?"

As I continued working, Dominique set about making a fresh pot of coffee. The strong aroma spurred me on. Focusing me to the task of finishing the faucet. By the time it was ready, I turned around and my sister-in-law was holding a steaming, fresh cup in her hands.

"Here you go." Taking the mug, I sipped lovingly at the hot liquid. "Is it any good?"

I didn't realize I had closed my eyes as I savored the strong coffee. "It's perfect. Just like I would have made it."

Dominique smiled from ear to ear. "Good. I remembered you like cream and sugar from the first time. You know your brother..."

She stopped. Her face fell as the memory of our lost love ran through her mind. "I'm glad you like it." Turning, Dominique walked slowly to the living room. Flopping down on the couch. I could hear the tears begin to form in her eyes. Sitting next to my sister-in-law, I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. When I did, the flood gates opened, and the sorrow began to flow.

"I miss him so much!" She screamed. Feeling helpless, I hugged her tighter to my chest. The tears fell against me. Eventually breaking my own dam of resistance. Within moments, we both sat on the couch crying. Two people lamenting the loss they felt.

"I'm sure he loved you Dominique. I don't know why he died like he did. I'm sure he's in a better place."

Dominique howled. Her tears coming harder. "NO, HE'S NOT!! HE KILLED HIMSELF FRANKY!! YOU CAN'T GO TO HEAVEN IF YOU KILL YOURSELF!! IF HE LOVED ME SO MUCH HE WOULDN'T HAVE KILLED HIMSELF!!"

My jaw dropped open. In all the talks I had with his former friends and coworkers at the funeral, no one told me Bruce killed himself. What the hell?! How?! What was my big brother going through that he would do such an awful thing?! Pulling Dominique away from me I looked her in the eyes.

"What?! What the hell Dominique?! Why would he kill himself? What do you know?!"

Dominique stared at me silently for several minutes. The tears slowly backing off. Wiping her face, she said: "you didn't know? Your brother had been taking meds for several years. Once he left the Corps, he was being treated at the VA for something called...PSTD...no that's not it. PSAF, PSDS...OH God...what was it..."

"PTSD?" I answered.

"Yes...that's it. He has a whole box full of pills that they gave him."

"But...why didn't he say anything? He never told me anything."

"You know your brother. He was a big strong man. He was a Marine. It's not like they go around talking about what bothers them. Oh Franky...you should have seen him. He was a mess for a while before he went and got help. There were days, he would just look off into space. Or days that my touching him would just make him flip out. The worst was at night. He would have nightmares that eventually forced me to leave our bed. He would talk in his sleep. Screaming, shouting and throwing fists like he was fighting a gang of men or something. Some nights he would be hot like an oven...others, he was cold as ice. Either way, he would sweat like he just ran a marathon or something. He was a mess after his three tours in Iraq."

I sat with my sister-in-law. Confusion written all over my soul. Bruce had always seemed to have everything together. To me, a God amongst men. Never a care in the world. A man without fear. Now, I hear that he was the most troubled in the room. And I could do nothing to help him.

"My God Dominique. I had no idea. I'm so sorry."