Offers

I had in mind to hope that, even while drunk, Danielle wouldn't let someone take advantage of her; I stopped short, however, as this would be rank hypocrisy to hope she would behave herself while her own sister had fucked me earlier that evening, and was now jerking me off -- so I came up with the best I could: "Keep having a good time!"

'Youbescha," she slurred. "K, gotta go, love ya!" as she hung up. Miraculously, she gave no indication of coming over.

Hannah kissed me more intently, then worked me harder. "All right, business is over -- let's finish this pleasure." At that moment, she knelt in front of me, turning so that my cock was pointing toward her breasts. *Betcha my sister doesn't do this for ya... does she," she growled as she squeezed my penis between them.

"Not yet, she doesn't," I offered in a pie-eyed voice of utter bliss.

She gripped me more forcefully. "This is the last time you're gonna get to shoot off for me... so make it count, ya cheat... yeah, exactly like that," she purred as I emptied my cock all over her left breast and then collapsed against the back of the couch, crying softly.

Hannah sat down beside me, threading her right hand into my left; with her own left index finger, she drew little circles, making a showy point of arousing her left nipple, which was still sticky with my semen. After about thirty seconds, she broke the silence.

"So... whatcha gonna miss most when you get married," she asked. "Cheating on your fiancée... or cheating with her sister... or liking that you did it... or" -- and she leaned in to kiss me -- "having feelings for me and finally àdmitting that you do." She jiggled her breast in her hand as she asked this last.

"The last one, I think."

"You think?"

"All right, all right, I know I will."

"And I'm gonna miss my feelings for you." She started crying quietly as well, and laid her head on my shoulder. "You weren't a bad lover at all -- reprehensible character, maybe, but you could sure get after it when you were with me." We held each other, sitting absentmindedly on the couch without a care for anything else.

At about quarter to eleven, she reached for her purse, pulled out a travel-sized bar of soap, and headed for the shower. "I hate to do this, but I gotta -- can't have my sister smelling your love on me."

"Wait a minute!" A thought had occurred to me.

"Yeah?"

"You left a pair of underwear here a time or two ago."

"Oh, you still got it?" When I said I did, she told me to bring it out from its hiding place in my sock drawer and have it ready when she finished -- and so I did.

Twenty minutes later, she emerged, and that without a towel. She kissed me and then said solemnly, "All right, Jake -- we've had our fun, but now it's time to say goodbye to this body you came to enjoy so much." I began crying all the harder as I watched different parts of her body disappear beneath her clothes, in the opposite of a striptease; at the very last, she slid her panties up her hips slowly and was then fully dressed -- and looking again as beautiful as I had ever seen her.

Hannah touched up her lipstick, then rested her hand on mine. "Before I go, we both have wedding gifts for my sister."

I was apprehensive, but nodded. "Say on."

"Yours is this: during the wedding, the reception, and for the rest of your life -- have eyes for her only Don't look to the right or to the left, figuratively or literally; just make this up to her by being the best husband and lover you can be."

"You know I will," I smiled through a few

more tears. ",But fair's fair -- what's your gift?"

"I'm gonna fix it so that I'll be double sure to keep your secrets that day... loose talk is costly, dontcha know." As she said it, she winked slowly.

"Y-you promised --!"

"And how better to keep that promise than to do what I'm gonna do -- keep sober, with just juice and soda for this pretty girl. No champagne, no whiskey, not even a beer." She crossed her legs and ran my hand over her knee. "And when we hear, 'forever hold your peace,' I will -- for you. The way I've done all this time."

"Thanks for not saying anything all this time." I sighed with a relief drained at last of all tears, both that she'd been so faithful to keep quiet, but also that the charade was now at its end.

"You wanna thank me?" Her tone was matter-of-fact one last time. "Then keep your vows, and love my sister as you do me -- and more."

"I will... I promise."

"You better." A kindness, and also a crack, came back into her voice. "It's getting late and I need to go."

"I'll make you one more promise."

"What's that?"

"I'll" -- this time, it was my voice's turn to falter -- "I'll miss you."

"And I'll miss you -- dammit, you know it's not nice to make a girl cry, dontcha?" she sniffled, despite a smile.

She brushed a tear aside and gave me the kind of soft but short kiss a woman gives a man when they wake up in the morning. "I'd love to hug you, but I can't... I want to arouse my sister's husband, not her suspicions by smelling you on me. Maybe hug me some other time?"

"I'd like that."

We sniffled simultaneously, and then she made for the door; as she walked through it, she whispered, "Goodbye... lover." i could hear her crying as she made her way to the parking lot.

Danielle, from what I could gather later, made it back home safely, but was drunk enough not to be able to call me back. Good thing, too, because I was in no state of mind to talk to her just then.

Eight days later, I married Danielle. When she got down the aisle to me, I blurted out, "You're the loveliest woman I've ever seen." She giggled a little, after which we got on with the ceremony. In response to "forsaking all others," I came across with an "I do" that left no doubt of my feelings for Danielle, but that I hoped wouldn't betray any other feeling. As Hannah had instructed me, I looked not to the left or to the right; on top of this being Danielle's big day, I actually felt afraid of what I might see -- or worse, feel -- if I caught Hannah's eye, or she mine.

Hannah, true to her word, stayed sober and respectful. For her sister-of-the-bride speech (Mrs Campbell was matron of honor, for what that's worth), she kept short and on topic, telling us we made a lovely couple and wishing us a happy married life. Even so, she managed one final dig at me, although subtly: while dancing a country two-step with Danielle about half an hour into the reception, from the corner of one eye I saw Hannah approach the DJ stand. A few minutes later, I felt my stomach clenching as a song came on -- an old Seventies song called "Only You Know And I Know." I knew Hannah had to have requested it, as indeed she alone could have, to send me a discreet message; even so, I kept my poker face and danced happily on with Danielle.

That night, Danielle and I made love three times, each more passionate than the one before. After the second time, she asked "What's got into you?" and that with a bemused curiosity

"Just showing how much I love you... how much I'm gonna love my wife the rest of our lives," I replied with tears down my cheeks.

She started crying too, saying, "And I'm gonna love you the same way -- lemme show you."

She came right back at me with the same intensity, but not the same, in that she had no way to know, nor would I ever be inclined to tell her, that by making that kind of intense love with her, I would therefore be spending our entire marriage trying to make up for what I had done with Hannah.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

In July 2022, Danielle and I celebrated our eighth wedding anniversary. The ten thousand dollars her parents pledged us, they gave us when we returned from our honeymoon. Danielle didn't tell them how we'd lied about her doings with me, and I certainly wasn't going to tell anything I'd done with Hannah; she had, after all, done these things to protect me -- or so she claimed.

It was Danielle's idea to ask her parents for help in investing this money so that we can make a down payment on a nice suburban house; we're eight years into a ten-year plan, and will withdraw the money at the end of the ten years. (As you might guess by now, we're living in a better apartment than when we were first married. I have my own consulting company, and Danielle is the office manager of a doctor's practice.)

It has also been Danielle's idea to offer me a birth month present. I'll be turning thirty-three later this month; to celebrate in advance, she asked me a question: "Babe? What would you say to a present for your birthday this year, and our anniversary next year?"

With my birthday being in October, and our anniversary in July, I did some quick mental math and came up with a hopeful answer. "You mean...?"

She smiled. "Thought I'd better ask first, but I was thinking about going off the Pill" -- which she'd been taking for the whole of our marriage to that point.

I hugged and kissed her. "Whenever you wanna do that, it's quite okay with me."

She hugged and kissed me right back, with equal fervor and passion. "Today's my last day on it, then." We couldn't start trying until two days after this decision, to make sure the Pill was fully out of her system ; once we could start, though, we did.

We're having fun with this trying, and do it nearly every day. If we are successful in conceiving, this will be our first child -- and my second.

Oh, that got your attention, did it? It should -- because it's true. It certainly got mine at the time, and has kept it since. Sit back and let me tell you.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was a Saturday, on which Danielle and I had been married for little more than a month. I had that day off and was sitting home, whereas Danielle was still working her clothing store job.

Shortly after ten that morning, my phone rang; I ignored it. Next minute, it rang again, and I ignored it again, letting it go to voicemail. The caller, however, would not be put off so easily; I immediately got a text, reading: "You can't keep ignoring me -- I need to talk with you right away."

I picked up the phone and called back. "What can I help with?"

"I need to come over and talk -- I won't be long, but we gotta talk." You guessed it -- this was Hannah.

"Our little fun and games are over, remember?"

"I didn't say 'fuck', I said 'talk.' And we need to talk face to face -- this is not something we're going to talk about over the phone, so be dressed and ready when I get there in about twenty minutes." With no goodbye, she then hung up abruptly, leaving me to stew and to worry over different possibilities -- and one in particular.

She was there in fifteen minutes, wearing a T-shirt for some band popular in the late Eighties; had I been paying attention, I would have noticed that her accompanying blue jeans weren't fitting quite as they should around the front. When I opened the door, she gave me a quick kiss on the forehead, then sat down on the couch, motioning to me that I had best join her. When I did, she hooked her arm through mine, resting her head on my chest. "Remember our last time together... when you told me you love me?"

"In the way I told you I love you," I countered quickly and tersely. "I'm not leaving Danielle for you, now or ever, so get that out of your head... but I do wish there were another one of me, even so."

"So do I, especially now... I didn't say it at the time, but... I love you too, Jake."

I patted her knee, my voice trying not to betray my own wistful sadness. "We can love each other all we want, but it won't change anything anymore."

She sniffled. "Is it wrong for me to feel this way?" Before I could answer, she continued, crying more earnestly. "I mean, isn't it only natural for a woman to feel something for... for the father of her child?"

I sat bolt upright, stammering. "W-what? W-when.... and I'm still not leaving your sister... but my God, what're we gonna do..."

"Remember that time in the shower, end of May?" I nodded in response. "That's when."

"You mean... you were..."

"Yep... I'd known for a week, that last time on this couch. Hell, I'm almost into my second trimester." She grinned ironically. "You didn't really think I was passing on drinking just to keep quiet at the wedding, didja?"

"I mean... what're we gonna... you know... do?"

"I already got it taken care of... I told Mom and Dad, told them it was some guy's I dated. I told them he bolted when I told him, and that he wants nothing to do with the responsibility of me or the baby. When Danielle asks, I'll tell her the same thing." She took a deep breath while still crying as I held her. "And yes, it's yours... you're not the only guy I've been with all this time... but I made all the others use condoms." She kissed my cheek. "Whadja think was gonna happen, doing things the way we did for as long as we did?"

"What am I gonna do... I have a responsibility I can't fulfill, and a child I can't acknowledge..." I started crying myself, and so Hannah and I held each other that much more tightly.

"It's okay, it's okay... you'll be plenty involved in his or her life... Uncle Jake." Her accent on the last two words drove home the point -- I couldn't know yet what karmic justice might await Hannah, if any at all, but I was reading mine, writ large.

She went on, her words proving my point; instead of being a sharper, more acid tone, her voice carried more than a mere tinge of sadness. "That's right -- Aunt Dani and Uncle Jake are gonna be at all the games, all the school programs, everything. And you're gonna smile and clap for it all, aren't ya." I nodded wordlessly, and she spoke on. "Birthday and Christmas gifts from the two of you? Perfectly welcome. You slippin' me cash under the table? Not happenin'."

"How're you gonna make it financially, with me not helping you?"

"I'll struggle for a while, like a single mom will... but I'll make it work, and never ask you for anything. I won't spill your beans... so don't you spill mine, got it?" She poked my chest with her index finger.

"Sure, no problem," I said, making no attempt to hide my sadness and sarcasm. "What's one more sword of Damocles for you to hang over my head."

"Careful there, Daddy-to-be... better show some respect for the girl who holds the scissors to cut those threads." She then stood up, still in my arms. "I figured you deserved to know, and that I should at least tell you."

"Thanks... I guess."

"You know, other than cheating on my sister and getting me pregnant in the process" -- she kissed me gently --"you're not altogether so bad a guy.. After all, you're willing to do what you did to protect my parents' promise and investment on behalf of my sister -- to look to someone's financial future, anyway." She disengaged from me, then turned to leave. "Goodbye, lover... and see you later -- Uncle Daddy." She smiled, winked, and and left me to weep for an hour under the weight of yet another secret to have to keep forever from Danielle.

The next months were pure torture for me. The Campbells rallied around Hannah and gave her all manner of emotional support while laying out some form of financial groundwork for her and for the baby -- all well and good, except that I was forced to watch from the sideline instead of having an active hand in the dealings. Danielle didn't get full-on baby fever right away, but did think Hannah's pregnancy was all, in its way, "so cute!" This was especially true at holidays -- and all the more painful to me now and henceforth, as I knew these occasions could only partially afford the joy of being with my child before I would have to put him or her back on the shelf, as it were.

The following February was worse still, in that Hannah went into labor late enough on a Sunday night that Danielle could beg off work to be Hannah's moral support, but I couldn't be Danielle's. That's how I wound up soldiering through my job the day my daughter, Harper, was being born -- another dose of my karma.

Harper is now seven years old, and in the second grade; as Hannah said things ought to be, Danielle and I go to her soccer games and her plays, and are among her biggest supporters. For the most part, she looks almost spot on like Hannah, right down to the same shade of brown eyes, even; if she has any of my features at all, they're either not discernible, or else Hannah glosses them over, saying that one of my cousins was her failed relationship and therefore Harper's father. Whether the family actually believes that, or chooses to suspend their disbelief, I don't know and won't ask; if ever there were a case in which well enough ought to be left alone, this is that case.

Hannah's not doing all that badly financially; she moved on from the call center when Harper was about three, and now has her own work -from-home business. It's true that she did struggle financially for a few years, as she said she would, but Hannah's working well, and Harper doesn't go hungry or without proper clothes.

On another front, however, Hannah's not had great success in relationships. She's had boyfriends, to be sure, but nothing has lasted longer than a year. During the course of that relationship, Harper became rather fond of Hannah's boyfriend, going so far as to ask, "Will you be my daddy?" Everyone who heard it thought it was cute and sweet -- everyone else besides me, that is. I could only smile and put on a brave face to mask the pain shooting through my heart. The relationship didn't work out, but I can still feel that statement shredding me now as it did then -- the same way it will when Harper inevitably will say to me, "Uncle Jake, you've been more of a father to me than my real dad has been." I hope to hell I'll be able to keep my composure -- but I mostly doubt it.

In the three months of our relationship, Hannah and I built a house of cards that needs only Danielle's discovery (which we hope never comes) to topple it and to do great harm to my finances and to my relationships. This constant fear and worry is one of the two lives Hannah and I have built together. The other life we've built is that of a happy, innocent brown-eyed second grader who doesn't know of, much less deserve, the maelstrom of sadness and trepidation which violently swirls inside her father's heart every day -- and all because her mother wanted to protect her aunt's feelings, and the family's financial investment alongside it.

There's no doubt in my mind -- I have never worked so hard for any money in my life, nor ever will again, as I allowed Hannah to work me, to keep her quiet just so that Danielle and I could collect Mr and Mrs Campbell's ten thousand dollars.