My Teddy Bear Ch. 01

With great effort of will I rose unsteadily from the lawn. "I think I'd better cry off another. Haven't smoked in ages, will probably whitie if I have any more. Thanks for picking up though, this was, uh, fun." Of course my mind was racing at the idea I had just voiced to the dry night air. Racing with excitement, terror, and everything in between.

Teddy nodded and wished me good night, prudently staying where he was and letting me stumble back through the dark to the house alone.

When I got back to my room, still a bit drunk and more than a little dippy from the weed, I jilled myself off to explicit fantasies of being *with* my brother for the first time. And for the first time in weeks I came like I used to: primal and satisfying. The next morning however I felt sick with self-loathing about what I'd imagined. It felt like at every turn it had been me to escalate our increasingly intimate conversations, my fault that we had teetered on the brink that night, and that Ted was becoming a victim of my twisted needs.

That day, I began to attempt to pull back onto a sane and rational course. After breakfast, when Dad was working, Mum out shopping, and Ted was sorting out tools in his van, I withdrew to my room and messaged Charlie, my roommate and casual sex buddy.

// Hey hot stuff. You busy? 🍑

We'd exchanged a few messages and the occasional call so far, but he still had lots of work to do for Uni so had been a little unavailable. He was supposed to be going straight into a Masters next year as part of a four year combined programme, so even though this was his final year as an undergrad, he had shitloads of work to do over the summer. He'd kindly avoided boring me when we were back in Manchester with the details of his upcoming academic diary, but it was obviously heavy. That boy loved his chemistry though, so it rarely seemed to take a toll.

Lockdown, I imagined, would be harder on him. He was the total antithesis of how you imagine a chem student: extremely gregarious and always the spark in the middle of a social situation. The few times that I'd seen him cut off from outlets like this, he'd become quite irritable and depressive. In our second year, only a few months after moving into our first flat, we'd been snowed in around Easter time. The others we shared the place with were all away so it was just us two, for about a week or so, and I was alarmed by how quickly his mood turned.

I'd probably been trying to protect myself from this worse side of him by not trying to stay in more regular contact so far. Kind of shitty of me, but then I had been there for him lots of times over the years, and I'd felt like I had my own crap to deal with: preparing to come home to the house in which my parents were simmering in the lockdown, my baby sister was having her tantrums, and even Bixie the cat was evil and vicious. When I'd unexpectedly found Teddy there it had turned the whole prospect around, and I realised then that I had been rather swept up in all of it so far.

My phone pinged.

// Claire! Bout time I heard from ya hen. No busy, fancy a call? My ma's about so make sure your clothes are on ;)

I grinned at his message. His cheeky Glaswegian banter was always as hilarious as it was mystifying. After three years of being his friend, I'd started to get to grips with some of the more obvious phrases.

Deciding to throw caution to the wind and blatantly ignore his warning, I stripped off before hitting the Facetime button on my phone. Leaning back on my bed I made sure that he'd get an eyeful of my flushing chest when he picked up.

"Hiya pet- *shite!*" I cracked up as I briefly saw his leaping eyebrows before the camera on his end when dark. I heard a lot of rustling, feet on stairs, and a hasty door slam before I saw anything.

"You mad girl! I told you me ma's around."

I was still giggling. "Your *face* Chip. So worth it. Anyway if she saw me she'd probably be happy it's not some pretty lad sexting you."

He grinned. "Aye yer right there. It's good to see ya. What's goin' down south then? All I get on the news up here is how Westminster's fuckin' it and how Nicola's got it sorted."

"I *don't* want to talk about the pandemic Charlie. It's shit. I'm bored. I'm horny."

"So this really is just a booty call eh?"

"Nooo, I want to hear all about you. But if it looks like you're forgetting that the girl on the other end of the line is in the buff, I'm going to have to remind you from time to time."

"I'm already forgettin' hen. Gies a swatch."

I stuck my tongue out at his beaming mug and extended my arm, letting the frame of the selfie camera graze the tops of my boobs, giving a peek of a nipple. Stretching my legs out I briefly hit the switch button and gave him a glimpse of me below the waist. But only a glimpse. He'd have to trade me for more.

He breathed heavily for effect. "Tidy." From him, that's a big compliment. But I'd make him more voluble. "Well you probably won't be surprised but I'm, uh, not completely following the rules."

"Charles you shock me. Boy or girl?"

"Both." A very naughty look on his impish face. "Dating a couple who moved to Glasgow just before the virus. They dinna know anybody so practically no risk. I'm isolating otherwise so I reckon pretty safe. But it's a load o' fun."

I had no trouble believing him, and was envious of the freedom he was managing to enjoy. "How do you get away from the house?"

"I jes dinna say anythin'. You know how Ma is, she'll kid hersel wi' any old shite just to believe her wee Charlie's No A Gay. I'm no stayin' overnight mind, that would be gallus and even she'd no be able to make an excuse for me then."

"Ugh. I'm so jealous."

"I know, it's so *me* isnae?" A pause. He stood up, leaving the phone on the bed. I heard some muffled sounds and then the camera shook, like he's just jumped back. Next thing I saw, he was lying on his front, face and shoulders towards me, his suddenly naked body stretched out behind him, mostly legs from this angle but with a sliver of that skinny arse just visible. "So on you go hen, what's your news."

I rolled my eyes. "What news could there be Chip? I'm stuck at home with my Tory dad and bratty sister. Mum's alright as she's got the garden. The only good bit of news is Ted's moved home."

"Oh aye, big braw Teddy left his missus? He hasn't decided he's swinging the other way by any chance?"

I grinned despite myself. Charlie has never made a secret of his most unseemly lust for my brother. "You know, I haven't asked him. Don't hold your breath though. But yes, they split up in February although I still don't know why. He's pretty cut up about it." Pause. Shifting position against the pillows. "It's been nice though. I hadn't realised how much we'd lost touch the last couple of years."

"And yersel? Surely you could sneak out and find some randy local lads from the old days."

"Trust me, the pickings round here are slim. And my car's fucked - died on me twice on the drive home, second time for good. So if I'm going anywhere it's strictly on foot."

"So it's just been self love for our poor lass? That's too bad." His eyes flash. "Sounds cute though. Why don't ye show me."

"You first. I already showed you once."

"Aye, I spose ye did. Awright."

I saw him rise, phone still held in front of him, and got a good look at his pale, freckled chest. His slender body was not my ideal build, but I knew it intimately and I got a momentary thrill at the memory of the many times we'd been together. The camera view went awry for a second before settling, I guess propped up against something, and he re-entered the frame far enough back that I could see all of him. Or at least, all that mattered. He was hard, slim fingers round that neat cock of his. It was neither small nor large, but wielded with its owner's skill it was formidable. He jerked himself slowly, eyes straight at the camera, that naughty smile replaced by the intense look he always gets when he's aroused.

"Mm, that looks nice. My turn. Tell me what you want to see."

"Show me those legs girl. And then open them for me."

I briefly considered exactly how to do it. I decided to start from where I was sitting. I switched the camera so he could see them, knees up, together, and then moved it to the side so he could see down their length and to my distant feet, looking tiny from the perspective. Then I sat up and moved the phone forwards, camera back towards me, and held it out, frame capturing one arm across my knees, my languid face, and slightly unkempt hair. A glimpse of one breast where the fold my wrist exposed what was behind. As I opened my knees, I pulled the arm back, crushing my boobs, panning the camera down across my tummy and revealing my opening flower.

"Ohhh Claire that's nice. Ye let the hair grow back. I love it."

"You do? It's just laziness and not having a reason to keep on top of it. I don't know if I like it."

"Well it looks bloody lovely. Touch yersel for me."

Even though his commands were blunt, the lilt of his accent made them feel gentle. I was always submissive with him when we had sex. We only occasionally got really kinky, but he was definitely always the one in charge.

My free hand's fingers stretched down, parting my outer folds and gently grazing my opening. The side of my thumb found my clit, and gently began to work it while the fingers coaxed new wetness from inside.

"Ye filthy girl Claire. I want to know: how many times have you fingered yersel in the last 24 hours?"

As I was thinking on the response, a flash of my visions of Ted from last night seared itself into my imagination. A massive wave of pleasure surged in my cunt at the same moment. I must have groaned, loudly, because Charlie made a throaty sound that told me he really liked what he was witnessing.

"How many times hen."

"Uh, I think... six."

I saw a spasm in his hardness, his hand jerked forcefully. He *really* liked that answer. "One second Claire," he said. "Stay jest like that."

I complied, continuing to stroke myself, but otherwise unmoving. I had a feeling I knew what he was up to.

He returned to the camera with a glistening blue dildo. I watched him position it beneath his kneeling bottom and begin to gently rock himself back onto it. His cock was unbelievably hard, pointing almost directly towards me.

He was really loving this. I'd only ever seen him fuck himself like this twice before, and always at the very heights of arousal. And one time he asked me to do it, but then never did again. I guess lacking the natural equipment of my own I couldn't figure out the right technique.

"So tell me, pet. What's the naughtiest thing you thought of during those six times."

Another flash. And another. A sudden flush of wetness under my fingers. I couldn't get the visions of Teddy out of my head. This was suddenly going wrong, not having the effect I wanted at all.

Frantically, I reached for a plausible lie. "Uhmm... I thought about... having my arse fucked."

"Who by?"

"By you."

"I think that's a naughty lie hen. I don't think that's it. Tell me."

I groaned, more visions flashing. I dared not tell him, but if I let go and visibly came for him, he might let me off the hook. I couldn't think of another way out so I leaned into it, biting my lip to prevent me from saying anything, hoping that to him it just looked like arousal. Two fingers plunged inside, thumb frantically rubbing my rigid clit. With the imagined images of Ted flickering thick and fast, I briefly trembled on the brink before collapsing over it, head over heels, orgasm pulsing from my groin, stomach churning with guilt and shame.

I heard him come, growling with lust, and flicked my eyes to the phone screen in time to see him fully impaled on the blue cock, a thick rope of cum spurting up and landing on his chest and stomach. Another, and then gushing dribbles spilling down over his knuckles. His head held back gasping. He remained like that, panting but otherwise still, for a few heartbeats. Then tilted his face back to look at me, impish smile back on his face.

"Fucking hell Claire, that was wild. I could see how hard ye came, my god. Dinnae think ye've ever come like that with me. Fuck I'm so spent."

I watched him lick his own cum off his hand; wipe up a strand from his belly with a long finger and suck it clean. I smirked at him, this crazy hedonist friend of mine, because he's very special to me. But at the back of my mind was the gnawing guilt.

*I came for Teddy, not for you.*

We panted at each other for a few moments more, coming back to our senses. He grinned, and I smiled back.

"Well hen, I'd better get cleaned up. Call me again some time. Not tomorrow, I'm with Ben and Mikaela, but the next day or after."

I nodded, blew him a kiss, and moved to hang up the call.

"Oh, and Claire?" he had a flash of the serious Charlie on his face. "I'll get the truth out of you."

// Call Ended

***

On the toilet, head in hands. I feel that last big glob of spunk lazily form and begin to slide out, but yet again my Kegels flex, sucking it back inside in a lewd reflexive motion. I look down at my genitals in betrayal.

This was obviously not a one-time thing. As Dad has been bleating, it'll be at least three more weeks before any kind of restrictions will be lifted, and even then it will be a very slight improvement. No dating or casual hookups, that's for sure. Ted and I likely have a couple months or more still to endure.

My mind, inevitably, shifts gear to thoughts of pregnancy. I'd had about fifteen days of the pill left when I left Manchester, and with everything else going on I'd not thought to update the address on my regular prescription. The next box would be sitting uselessly at the pharmacy across from my flat for months to come. It hadn't seemed like a huge deal when I ran out, as I foresaw neither the great difficulty I'd soon have keeping my knickers on nor any prospect of actually *needing* them any time soon due to the isolation.

With some mental maths I estimate it's been just over three weeks since I ran out. That unfortunately leaves me with virtually no certainty: I've known friends take several months for their cycle to get back to normal after stopping, and also some who got pregnant within a few days. Bloody biology. Pain in the arse. Or... in the lady bits. Hormonal fuckery notwithstanding, I'd had one of the weirdly light, almost non-periods the week of leaving Manchester. Nothing since, so if logic is any guide I'd be due one soon. Sounds bloody risky if you ask me.

What about condoms? I know Ted doesn't have any as I'd breathlessly asked just before he entered me. I guess any he had would have been at Steph's... if they'd even used them. I probably have a couple at the bottom of my bag but in the moment of having Ted's hardness at the gates I'd completely forgotten about them and been unable to make myself stop him. The rest are in my flat, under Charlie's bed.

*Shit*.

Well. Assuming there's more of this to come, and assuming I'm not pregnant already, is there anything I can do to un-fuck this dangerous situation.

Pill? No dice. GP routine appointments are gold dust right now due to the pandemic, and I won't be able to get a prescription without a lengthy initial consultation as it's been years since I went to the local practice.

Condoms. Got two. Probably quite old ones. Should be able to get some more but with people freaking out about toilet roll maybe they've also been panic buying rubbers as well. Will have to go into town soon and see what I can find. Hopefully Ted can give me a lift.

Morning after? Definitely wise. Look for that too. Will need to get out tomorrow then, first thing. There's two pharmacies in Spalding, hopefully there haven't been too many other 'oops' moments in the southeast Lincolnshire lockdown.

With the anti-pregnancy plan made, I allow my thoughts to pivot back to Teddy. Holy fuckanory what pickle have we got ourselves into. I remind myself that of course, it *was* just a desperation shag, a product of two young people denied a sexual outlet by events far beyond our control. But at the same time, I'm feeling butterflies in my tummy at the thought of seeing him, probably moments after I leave the safety of this bathroom. And it's obvious that we aren't don't yet. I'll be all over him the moment I set eyes on him... My gentle, loving brother, whose closeness I've been missing for years, and we're in this crazy fucked up situation where the world is on fire around us. But I really haven't cared, because I've spent most of the time with him, and I realise it's felt great.

The warmth of this feeling gives my brain the fuzzy resolve it needs to zip up these complicated thoughts and file them away as a problem for Future Claire. And with that, I decide it's time to face him again. Enough navel gazing. Well, pussy gazing I guess, here in the safety of the bathroom. There's a very sexy man out there and my body is more than ready for another round. Wiping the dregs of him from my tender lips, and doing my best to clean it out of my now rather matted thatch, I pee and flush and stand up to face the music.

The knickers are done, irretrievably sodden and beginning to crust already. *Those* will be going in the bin. So I slip my shorts back on commando-style, and after turning to the mirror briefly to spruce myself up, I stride over to the door and step out into the house with purpose. The coast is clear: Joanie's room is shut as always, I can hear Dad still ranting to Mum downstairs, and the only witness to my urgent, furtive trip across the landing to Teddy's room is the cat, who barely even bothers to open one eye as I pass.

With a deep breath, I turn the handle and step back into his room.

***

A long shower helped to clear my mind of some of the complicated thoughts that sprang up in the wake of my disastrous attempt to distract myself with Charlie. The hot water washed the sweat and sex off, and stripped away some of the layers of anxiety that I'd built up around Ted in my brain.

*I can handle this*, I said to myself. It's not like I hadn't indulged in unusual fantasies before. Charlie's a proper deviant and while I'd been ready enough to jump in feet-first with him from time to time, it'd always been easy enough for me to step away and back to a more vanilla experience. Small doses of weird could be fine, and I began to think of my mental fixation on my brother as being an acceptable short-term fantasy that I'd find easier to control if I allowed it to flicker into life and then disappear, instead of trying to prevent it from ever existing.

I was still, however, reluctant to share the truth of this fantasy with Charlie. Libertine though he certainly was, confessing an incestuous desire might still go beyond the pale for him. And if it didn't, his own lust for Ted might cause him to provoke me further. I absolutely believed his ominous final words, and resolved to resist the urge to call him for a little while. I'd let my brain have its fun, exorcise my infatuation, and by the time it passed, Charlie would have moved on, distracted by his dalliance with Ben and Mikaela.

I existed in a state of comparative peace for the next several days. I'd run in the mornings, help Mum around the house occasionally, make lunch or dinner for the family depending on when people were busy, and finger-fuck my own brains out over thoughts of my brother almost every chance I got. The one other thing I did that was a notable change from the last few weeks was that I avoided being alone with him. I figured that while I was allowing my libido unrestricted access to the Teddy files, actually being in his presence was probably unwise. As the days of implementing this strategy passed, I began to worry that I was hurting him with this sudden avoidance, but our daytime interactions were still easy and friendly, and actually he'd been out more than a few times on emergency call outs for people whose appliances were failing, toilets bursting, and other such horror stories. Invariably he'd be exhausted coming home after days like these, and it meant that I didn't have to think of excuses for not coming to his room in the evening for a drink.