The Black Sheep

"Do you really want to know?"

"You can spare me the gory details."

"Ok then. Man to man. I love your mother, your mother loves Robert, Robert loves Jessica and Jessica loves me. The only difference between us and other families is that we are open enough and comfortable enough to share our sexuality with each other."

"So you're in on this too?" Christopher spoke as if he had expected as much.

There was a pause before dad answered and I wondered what he could have been doing in that time. Maybe he was just trying to formulate an adequate response. One that would break the news easily to my already fragile little brother.

"Yes."

Nice one dad.

To my surprise there was no screaming and shouting, no breaking noises, no storming out of the room. Instead I heard what appeared to be a half-hearted sigh.

"I see. So, purely out of morbid curiosity, why wasn't I involved in this twisted family love-fest?"

"Do you want to be involved?"

"Do I look like I want to be involved?"

Again my father paused, probably trying to formulate a decent answer.

"You needed to come to us. If you had expressed an interest I know your mother would have happily obliged."

"Oh my god, you did not just say that."

"So your mother finds you attractive. Is that really so disgusting? Lots of mothers think their sons are handsome. It just so happens that Jill is more willing to admit it."

Christopher said nothing, and I imagined him burying his head in his hands despairingly.

Mum seemed particularly interested in this part of the conversation, and she pressed her ear even closer to the door until she was practically hugging it.

"So do you find your mother attractive?"

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response!"

"Yet you expect me to be honest with you."

Again, there was a long pause as the pair took a moment to cool before proceeding.

"So how far does this 'thing' go back? I assume you're not really my uncle or something, right?"

"Of course not. Don't be disgusting!"

"This coming from the man thats fucking his own daughter?"

Dad stopped just short of launching into a four letter tirade and took a deep breath.

"To answer your original question, this has been a recurring theme on your mother's side for at least two generations. Your aunts and uncles on my side of the family know nothing of this, so I would appreciate it if you kept it to yourself."

"Oh trust me, this doesn't leave the house. The last thing I need right now is the stigma of incest tarnishing my already shitty reputation.

So where does this all leave me? I mean, you say you want me back in your lives, but in what capacity? Are there going to be any expectations? Cus if you think I'm going to suddenly leave my morals at the door..."

"Like I said son, its up to you how we proceed.

If you decide you want to experience the other side of our family then all you have to do is say so. Nobody will think any less of you, and I know that Jessica would gladly show you the ropes."

I suddenly started blushing uncontrollably, and mum smiled at me slyly.

"Yeah, thanks a lot dad." I whispered, "Why don't you just tie me down and smear me in honey."

Mum tried her best to stifle a giggle, but made a poor job of it. Fortunately the mood in the next room was far too tense for the men to notice.

"Dude. No. Just... no."

"Why not?

Ok, if you can sit there, look me in the eye and say that you've never snuck a peek at your sister while she was getting changed, then we'll say no more on the subject."

"Hey, now that's not fair. I was fourteen years old. It was a stupid little crush, nothing more." I suddenly beamed as I realised that my little brother may have had an interest in me all along. "Actually, now you come to mention it why the hell didn't I see this coming. I knew there was something fishy when I got caught checking out my sister and you just said that I should probably ask her in future. Why the hell couldn't you have given me a hiding like any normal parent?"

"Ok, so now tell me you haven't fantasised about her."

"What? Don't be ridiculous."

"Come on, look me in the eye and tell me you've never masturbated while thinking about your sister!"

"This conversation ends now!"

"Its in your blood Christopher. You're one of us weather you like it or not."

"Look, this isn't what I came back for..."

"Then what did you come back for?"

There was another long pause and it was suddenly as if the air had turned soup thick with tension. Why did he come back? Was it for me? Was that really too much to ask?

I suddenly felt mum's hand in my own. Obviously she was having just as hard a time dealing with the pressure as I was.

Then, as if he could no longer take the strain, Christopher crumbled with a long deep sigh, "As much as your behaviour sickens me... you're still my family. I thought I could simply cut all ties and run... turns out it isn't quite that easy."

"I see." Dad's voice had suddenly become syrupy mix of sympathy and smugness. He had Christopher trapped now, and although he didn't like the way it had come to pass, he was evidently pleased with the end result. "Look son, maybe I could have been a little more understanding. After all it wasn't all that long ago that I found your mother making love to your uncle Ted. Believe me, I was every bit as shocked - and even sickened - as you are now. I can understand your anger, better than you'll ever know, but at the same time I don't want to see you pass up the opportunity of a lifetime based on outdated and silly moral doubts.

But, you are my son and I love you. So if you want back in then I suppose we can accommodate. There'll be no expectations from us, but you have to understand that we can't just turn off our feelings. This could be particularly hard on your sister. She has developed quite the crush on you."

"I think she's a little confused..."

"Oh its more than that Christopher. She knows her feelings better that you'll ever know yours. In the last few years she's had plenty of opportunity to come to terms with who she is and what she wants.

Anyway, lets not get into that now. Its late and I think we need to let this all sink in."

"Right."

My brother's voice was faint, distant and empty. I don't suppose for a moment that he liked having to swallow his pride. I expect that probably hurt him even more than finding his brother screwing his mother. Every time I think he's beginning to get back on his feet something else drags him back down. I wasn't sure if he could take much more of this... and watching it was taking its toll on me too.

"Stay here tonight. You've probably missed the last bus anyway, and besides, we'd love to have you."

Christopher said nothing, but I assumed there was a silent nod of compliance. It would be good to have him back home again. Even if it was only for one night.

Chapter 7

I stumbled into my room and crashed out on the bed like I hadn't sat down in a month.

Tonight had been quite the emotional roller coaster. It started as a complete bust, despite the best efforts of my family and friends, but then Adam's little surprise had rolled in and everything changed for the better.

After dad and Christopher's little chat I was feeling distinctly positive and had finished the evening on a bit of a high as a result. It wasn't like it was all fixed now, but there had been a definite move in the right direction and after these recent months of downers I was ready to grab on to even the smallest of hopes.

Why did my little brother have this power over me? There I was, feeling worse than ever, then suddenly he showed up and everything seemed wonderful. It felt like someone turning the lights on after watching a scary movie with a particularly frightening end. Its strange, but when he's in my arms I'm suddenly whole again. As if, even though I didn't know it, I was incomplete before and he was the last piece of the puzzle.

I asked mum about this, and she came up with some romantic clap-trap about us being soul mates, and whereas I didn't really believe that, it did seem to be a rather apt description.

Somewhere in the background I could hear the subtle 'bump, bump, bump' of Robert's headboard against the solid brick walls and for a moment I sank inside.

It wasn't fair. How come he was getting some action and I wasn't. Just next door was the man I wanted, but I couldn't even touch him. For a second I tried to picture Robert and his bitch hammering away, assuming it would get me wet enough to forget Christopher for at least a little while, but all I felt was disgust at my older brother's actions. I had never felt that way about Robert before.

Then I began to think about that time in the park, when my little brother seemed so sweet, so fragile, so... fuckable.

My memory suddenly became very selective, and I pictured how the meeting might have gone should there have been a more 'favourable' outcome.

I imagined holding him in that forced embrace. I imagined stroking his hair. I imagined lightly touching his chin and bringing his beautiful blue eyes up to meet mine, and I imagined slowly closing in for that first, wonderful kiss.

Just thinking about it was making me tingle in secret places. I could feel a dampness building within me and I hadn't even touched myself yet. This was the power that he had over me.

For a moment I considered stopping. I had betrayed my brother's trust too many times of late and stroking myself to my corrupted memories of him just seemed so wrong...

My hand began to wander from its safe place on my stomach and down my thigh to the hem of my black-silk party dress...

I really did consider stopping. I tried to stop, I swear. I even considered turning the TV on to take my mind off it... but it was far too late for that. My sibling had me under his wonderful spell and he wasn't about to let me go.

'How dare he!' I thought, 'How dare he walk around so sweet and sexy. So cute and corruptible...'

My hand began to slowly lift my dress up over my waist and I felt a shock of raw electricity as my fingers brushed against the sensitive skin on my thigh.

'Where does he get off, seducing me? This is his fault. He deserves this.' Sounds strange I know, but at the time that seemed like a fairly rational conclusion.

When I slid my hand into the warm wetness of my black lace panties I felt an sudden, near-painful explosion of sexual energy in my loins and I bucked my hips slightly and took in a long cool breath of muggy night air.

Running my fingers across the groove between my swollen labia I imagined the tension building as I led him home from the park, his hand in mine. I imagined getting him home and escorting him up the stairs to my room, to my bed. I pictured the unsure look in his eyes as his experienced older sister slowly stripped her skirt, blouse and finally bra, standing bare, with only a pair of white cotton knickers to protect his slutty sibling's modesty.

I imagined him shifting uncomfortably as I ever-so-slowly placed my fingers in the waistband and pulled the material from my firm abdomen, before sliding the already damp undergarment down my silky thighs, letting them drop to the floor in a heap.

I could almost taste his apprehension as he fixed his beautiful blue eyes on my aching sex, and watched with a petrified, captivated awe as a thin bead of my lubricant oozed down the inside of my athletic, toned, milky-white thigh.

My perverted little dream began to gain momentum with my fingers as I pictured myself pushing my little brother back onto the bed and straddling him.

"Relax little bro. I'll be gentle, I promise."

I imagined myself ripping his damp white shirt off his chest and forcing it back across his shoulders, before closing in for a tantalisingly quick yet powerful kiss. Sliding into his warm mouth I lick the delicious saliva from his tongue and swallow, before suddenly withdrawing and once again gazing into his gorgeous, innocent blue eyes.

"I'm going to teach you everything I know, little brother."

Christopher nods silently, but he was obviously still a little unsure.

"Relax baby... relax..." My voice trails off until its barely a whisper, and I close in for another long wet kiss.

I reach down and begin to unzip his jeans. Already I can feel his swollen passion throbbing against my desperately damp crotch and I begin to tingle inside as I reach into his trousers and...

And...

And that was as far as my fantasy got.

I looked up at the ceiling just as light and shadow began to blend into one big, grey mess and my thighs clamped down tightly on my hand. My pussy began to convulse in an almost painful fashion and I released into my hand with a gulp of hot, close air and finally, after what seemed like an age of breathlessness, I allowed myself to gasp my brother's name, just as the last sensations of wonderfully taboo pleasure rushed up my spine and nestled in a secret place in my brain.

I lay there in a pool of my own juice for some time, tingling all over, too exhausted to even move.

This wasn't the first time I had masturbated while thinking about my little brother, but this time, after all we had been through, it somehow seemed far more intense, like I had given in to the evitable and finally accepted my feelings. A small part of me said a little prayer that night, as I stroked the parting wall between his room and mine and tried to imagine him here, with me, sharing the afterglow.

Now I'm not your typical girly, girl. In many ways I guess you could call me a tomboy. I'm probably the last person you'd expect to be in touch with their feminine side, but that night I cried, because for the first time in my life I realised I was in love... and it bloody hurt.

Chapter 8

The buildup to Christmas was a little strained between myself and Robert, because for some reason I couldn't bare to have him touch me. Sure, I loved my big brother, but every time I allowed myself to get close I got this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I was betraying my love for Christopher somehow.

Just as his frustration - and mine - reached an almost fevered state and tempers were beginning to fray, Christmas morning rolled around and everybody seemed to cheer up. At least for the time being.

Christopher had decided that he quite liked living away from home after all, and while we still saw him with some regularity, it was little consolation for him not being there full time. As a result, every time he came to the house we all made a big deal of it. Dad would crack open the beers and cigars, mum would run around like a headless chicken, trying to see to all her baby's needs and even Rob occasionally made a bit of a fuss.

In that respect Christmas morning was a bit of a jumbled mess of people falling over each other trying to get ready for the arrival of my estranged sibling. The black sheep who had suddenly become the highlight of all our lives.

I think it had something to do with the fact that we lived such an alternative lifestyle and although Christopher didn't agree with it, he made a heroic effort to deal with it every time he saw us. The fact that he was willing to go to such extremes for us was a clear display of his loyalty to the family, and that made us all feel special in our own way.

Hell, he made me feel special every time he looked at me...

Anyway, Christopher arrived just as we'd finished our bumbling about and somehow we all managed to put on a 'calm and organised' facade. He wasn't fooled for a moment though.

"It's unusually quiet in here..." He said, as he stepped in through the front door and handed mum a pile of presents.

"Oh baby. You shouldn't have gone to such trouble. We know money is tight at the moment..." and with that, mum gave him a peck on the cheek. From the look in her eye I could tell she was debating weather or not to go for a full contact hug as well. She tended to take the safe route with physical contact where Christopher was concerned, as she didn't want him to get the wrong impression. The end result was usually an uncomfortable moment of lingering and fidgeting.

This time Christopher took pity on her and made the first move, closing in for a quick, very clearly non-sexual, mother-son hug.

"It needn't be." Said dad, as he handed my youngest sibling a cold beer.

"We're not going to get into that again, are we?" Sighed Chris, "I don't want your money, get over it. You should be chuffed I'm off the payroll so soon. Most parent's would kill to be shot of their children by 18."

"Hey, that better not be a dig at me." Robert lightheartedly punched Chris in the arm and grinned mischievously.

I was the only one who didn't join the conversation. Instead I threw my arms around my little brother and lingered as long as I dared, before retreating and smiling shyly.

The present opening went extremely well. Christopher had gotten me this charm bracelet that I had my eye on right back in January, before I trotted off to uni. I couldn't believe he'd remembered. He then handed me a smaller package, a tiny jewelry box with a card which simply said 'For my lucky star'. I opened the package and it was my first charm, a little silver star, intricately detailed with a tiny green stone set in the middle.

"It matches your eyes." He said nonchalantly.

Immediately I felt myself go all gooey inside and I cursed my little brother for having this power over me. How is it that he can make me feel all girly when no one else can?

Christmas lunch and mum had already had too much to drink. Much to our horror she began flirting with Christopher in a most painfully obvious manner, looking deep into his eyes, stroking his leg and telling him how handsome he was, wondering why some nice girl hadn't snapped him up already. To our surprise - and relief - he seemed most understanding and shrugged it off with a little good humour, although I could tell on the inside he was terrified... and quite possibly a little nauseous too.

If I were feeling mischievous I might hazard a guess that he was also the tiniest bit turned on as well, and that horrified him more than any amount of flirting mum could put his way.

To a degree it seemed that he was finally accepting the family for what we really were. It was just a small victory, but it spoke volumes and we all relaxed a little that afternoon. Some of us relaxed more than others though, as mum and Robert got nice and cozy during the afternoon family movie. Christopher didn't look at all comfortable - one might even say he looked distraught - so after many pleading looks directed at dad, I finally got him to take the hint and he escorted the pair upstairs, not to return for many hours.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry about that. That must have been awful for you." I was praying that the drunken idiots hadn't done any irreparable damage to our already fragile relationship.

Christopher sat silently for some time and my heart was in my mouth, suddenly he rubbed his weary eyes and said through gritted teeth, "They have to be who they are, I suppose. I don't expect them to change for me."

I truly felt terrible for him. He must have been in so much pain and the fact that he somehow managed to keep all that pain hidden away was nothing short of mind blowing. At that moment I was so proud that I think I fell just that little bit further for him.

For a moment I thought back to my present, the charm bracelet and silver star, and I began to wonder what the card meant.

'For my lucky star.'

Christopher seemed very unemotional about the gift, as if it was just a little something he had picked up on the fly, but anybody could see the amount of forethought that had gone into choosing it.

What was it he said? Something about it matching my eyes? For just a second I allowed my self to fantasise that it meant more than it probably did. As if he were trying to give me some sort of message.