Untimely Child

Author's preamble.

Tags: Lesbian sex and hetero sibling incest.

All sexually active characters are over 18 years old. The story is pure fiction: people and places are all products of my imagination and have no counterpart in real life.

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*****

It was something I had never been allowed to forget, even though I had absolutely no control in the matter. My arrival into this world was unexpected, unwanted and untimely. For my parents, everything was an organised series of life and career events, always with an eye on the top of their separate professions. It must be said that they achieved all their objectives and were able to retire to the luxury they had both worked so hard to accumulate.

Father, even as a child I learned, loved money and was willing to work to accrue it. He did the usual jobs boys would take on: paper round, stacking supermarket shelves and the like. He earned his way through university as a barman. But he never let his work interfere with his studies so graduated with a double first and entered the world of high finance.

He navigated his way through those hectic early days, successfully gambling with his company's assets and turning in the huge bonuses at the end of each year. His consummate skills came to the notice of senior management and it was not too long before he started climbing the ladder to the very top.

Father met my mother at university when they were both in their first year studying a course that was mutual to both their planned paths. She too was breezing her way through university in a similar fashion to father, her extra-curricular work being in an retirement home on the overnight watch. Not difficult as much of her time was spent seated at her station answering the occasional bell from a resident and sometimes coping with minor emergencies. She was diligent in her duties but, at quiet times, she would get out her texts or work on her current assignments.

Mother and father saw the same ambition in each other and became fast friends. They decided to share a flat, as each of their current accommodations was just too noisy where impromptu parties and the general high spirits of fellow students disrupted studies. The university years rolled on, friendship became love and with the ink on their degrees still damp, they had a quiet wedding attended only by parents and very close family.

They both had life and career planned right from the start. Mother's ambition was to be a top corporate lawyer. Her excellent degree was her passport into the lowest echelons of the legal hierarchy but, like her husband, it did not take too long before she started climbing the ladder to success.

Both my parents had a strong sense of civic duty and they deemed it necessary to raise a family. Long discussions took place between them during which it was decided that they would have two children and mother would take time off from her career to raise them up to school age. They didn't want to leave it too late, as they wanted to avoid the problems late pregnancies can bring, but mother had to wait until she was secure in her position and her reputation ensured that she would be welcome back to work afterwards.

Following their carefully arranged timetable, at the age of 35 my mother presented my father with a daughter whom they called Emily and, one year later, with Peter. Father continued with his work but always had time for his children. Mother faithfully stuck to her task of raising them to school age. As soon as they had both started school, mother engaged a housekeeper who would keep the house clean, cook an evening meal and be at home for the children arriving from school: mother then resumed her climb to the top.

I cannot imagine my mother being careless about birth control; perhaps she thought she was through menopause, but when she was 51 mother fell pregnant with me and refused to consider an abortion. I was just an inconvenience to them both so mother decided not let me interfere with her life. She worked right through her pregnancy and was actually driving to work when her contractions started. She turned around and drove to the hospital, phoning father on the way. Within one month of my birth mother was back at work and my sister Emily became my surrogate mother.

Emily too was a diligent student and, although lacking the ruthlessness of our parents, she had her own career ambitions. She pursued these through college and on to employment; currently she is in charge of her firm's data processing department. All this time, she loved me as if I were her own child. I think I got more parental love from Emily than all three of us siblings received from both parents put together.

No, this is not a sob story about a terrible childhood with monstrous parents; I am just stating things as they were. Money was never a problem, of course: it was not that they could not afford me financially, they could not afford the time, or so they judged. Emily received a generous allowance from our parents and when they moved to a better home in a better district, Emily was given the choice either for both of us (our brother Peter had moved to Germany where he built his own life) to go with them to their new house or to stay where we were.

At the age of eight, I didn't have much of a voice but I think Emily chose the better option of staying put. Father immediately signed over the lease of the house to her and made sure she never had any financial problems.

Mother and father made it a point to bring the whole family together for the major holidays - even Peter would come over from Germany until he married a lovely German girl. Every year our parents, Emily and I would go away for a month together. One year it was a Caribbean luxury resort, another year it was a cruise round South Africa and back via Suez or a safari or ... I guess the sort of holidays about which most kids could only dream. As you could probably imagine, my birthday and Christmas presents were lavish so I always had the latest toys and, later, consoles and computers.

All in all, I had a pretty good childhood. My parents ensured that I got the best education and wanted for nothing materially, Emily adored me from the moment I was born, and lavished me with love and affection. She was my real mother.

When I came down from university with my MBA I approached my father with a proposition. During my time at uni, I had developed an interest in baking. Bread, cakes, anything, I loved the kitchen. There's something so down-to-earth natural about kneading a batch of dough by hand. It is a time to dream your dreams and let your thoughts drift where they will. I was fascinated, also, by the world of the patisserie, all those lovely creations.

So, my uni weekends were not taken up with rowing boats up and down rivers, or knocking the crap out of variously sized and shaped balls, or even in the pub. No, I sought out classes and courses on cookery and baking, I arranged with a local bakery to take me on for weekend work and I learned the practical side to that world.

Anyway, back to this proposition. I put together a business plan to open a bakery and patisserie shop where everything would be made on the premises. My idea was to have the whole patisserie open to public gaze with me working to create all those lovely pieces about which I had learned and customers could sit at a small coffee bar to watch me work. I would employ a professional baker to run the bread and pies side of things and somebody to serve at the counter and coffee bar. My plan was costed down to the last penny; my business forecasts were, I thought, realistic. But it needed capital.

Father took his time reading through the plans and accompanying documentation, occasionally flicking back to check a point, until he looked up at me. "Can I hang on to this for a few days?" he asked.

I was not surprised; I knew he would get his staff to go through it with a fine-toothed comb but I was confident it was a sound plan. I smiled at him. "Sure, Dad. Take as long as you like."

"Can we meet for lunch on Friday?"

"Yes, that's fine. Where and when?"

"Let's make it The Imperial. One fifteen OK?"

Father apologised for being just four minutes late, he's like that, but he explained he had cleared his desk so we could take our time. He wouldn't talk business while we were eating a splendid lunch but, as we relaxed in the lounge with our coffee, he tapped his copy of my plans. "This is a right scholarly piece of work, Mark. Maybe a bit of polishing here and there but it seems to be viable."

Then he proceeded to tear it apart before building it up again. What he suggested usually made sense but I argued the toss on some of his points. I must admit, the new plan was better than my original, while retaining the basic concepts. The major saving was the wages of the counter assistant. Dad said the baker and I would have to staff the counter and coffee bar, at least until they could be justified.

"OK, Mark, let's talk money. How much do you have and how much of that are you willing to put into your business?"

"I have fifteen K in the bank. I can live for a year on five, even if I have to eat the leftover stock, so I can put in ten thousand pounds. I'll live in the flat above the shop."

"No, Mark, live at home and cycle in to work each day. Rent the flat out and that will give you living expenses."

"I had thought of that but I don't want to impose on Emily any more."

"Tush and poppycock" - Dad had a habit of using quaint old expressions - "that's your home and you know Emily just adores you: I spoke to her just yesterday, as I saw that one coming. If you do it this way, you could put the whole fifteen K into the pot."

I tried to swallow that lump in my throat as I found myself committing my all.

"Good. If you back it with every penny you have, that's a topping incentive. I'll come clean on this: your mother, Emily and I had a family conference yesterday. We all want to invest fifteen thousand pounds each. I wasn't sure how much you had saved so I agreed to make your share up to fifteen. Now I know that's not necessary.

"How does this sound? You have 28 percent of the shares, we three sitting partners will each have 24 percent, so it would take all three of us to outvote you. We can ask your mother to put all this into legal gobbledegook then we're up and running."

I told my father that his plan was fine with me and, over the next month, he helped me with the preliminaries: taking out a lease on the premises, opening a business bank account, organising the refitting of the shop and so on. A middle-aged couple, sick of the petty vandalism and street crime of their council estate, took over the flat and I had the good fortune to meet up with a baker with whom I had worked in the past. Carl was fed up with working for one of those big bread-makers who sell cotton wool rubbish.

I'd love to say my shop was an instant success: it wasn't, but within months, I was already showing a small working profit and had built up a body of regular customers. Some of them liked to watch me working and chat with me: nice people who spread the word.

Within six months, we had so much business that I took on that counter assistant to take some of the pressure off Carl and me. Janice was a single mum with two boys at school so she worked from 10:00 AM until 3:00 PM, which suited me perfectly as she covered the busy period. By the end of the first year, I had a thriving business although I was working from 5:00 AM until I closed the door at 6:00 PM. Emily was very supportive at home and, even though she worked full-time, there was always a meal ready for me after I had showered and cleaned up.

She would often pop into the shop at lunch times and got really friendly with Janice but I was surprised one evening when I came home to find Emily and Janice enjoying a coffee together in the living room. After we had eaten, they disappeared to Emily's bedroom and I heard the muffled sounds of their lovemaking.

Emily had no regular boyfriends although she would have a man in bed now and then but I never knew she also walked on the gay side of the street. Before long, Janice was staying over regularly; sometimes her kids would come with her and sleep in the spare bedroom. As for me, I was celibate, but not really through choice: I was too tired most evenings to have much social life and there was always a mountain of paperwork to catch up on. Eventually Dad suggested I should give it all to an accountant; he recommended one from his contacts and very soon she had all my books and paperwork sorted.

That left me free to relax in the evenings so the three of us would often sit chatting until quite late and we went out to dinner several times. One evening we all had more wine with our meal than usual so we all got home a bit tiddly and opened another bottle of wine. All evening Janice had been flirting with both Emily and me. She can be an outrageous flirt at times but that evening she was even worse than usual. She had both of us blushing with her innuendos and she would often kiss and fondle Emily in front of me. My sister seemed a little embarrassed at first but she warmed up to the spirit of the evening by returning Janice's kisses and gropes; soon their clothing was dishevelled and showing lots of skin.

I had to make a bathroom call and, when I returned to the living room, I detected a certain tension in the air. I don't know what it was but there was something different. Janice was her usual bubbly self but Emily sat quietly. Her eyes were shining and I noticed she was breathing heavily: I saw that her nipples were sticking right out and realised that she wasn't wearing her bra and half the buttons on her blouse were gaping open. I looked at Janice and her smaller breasts were also loose underneath her t-shirt. Her nipples, too, were hard points.

When I sat down, Janice came over and straddled my lap, sinking until her groin was settled onto my incipient erection. She held the wine to my mouth and made me finish the glass. She placed the empty glass on the coffee table, wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me open-mouthed with her tongue seeking my tonsils.

"Mmm, he feels nice," she laughed as she wriggled on my tumescence. She then proceeded to open my shirt all the way down and, tugging it out from my slacks, pulled it over my arms and then rubbed her hands all over my bare chest and abdomen.

"Emily," she called over to my sister, "I'm busy. Come and take my shirt off." My sister stood and crossed over to us nervously. Janice started another tongue battle with me and I could feel Emily pulling up her friend's shirt and the soft warmth of a breast pressing into my chest. We broke off our kiss while Emily pulled Janice's shirt over her head and threw the garment to one side.

"Give me a kiss and kneel here, my love," said Janice, patting the floor beside us. Emily leant forward to kiss her friend and I could see all of her breasts complete with dark, erect buttons: she knew where I was looking and made no effort to cover up as she broke off a very passionate kiss and lowered herself to her knees.

"Would you like Mark to take your shirt off?" There was a sharp intake of breath from my sister but her eyes sparkled again. "I'm sure he would like to, wouldn't you, Mark?"

What does one say? Ever since I realised that girls were fascinatingly different, my sister had been one of my favourite fantasies. I always felt a little guilty afterwards but a standing prick has no conscience, or so they say. Right now was no exception: my prick was trying to force a hole in my jeans. But what did she think? I looked the question at her and she responded by leaning in and kissing my lips lightly. Her smile gave me the answer but she coloured up all the way from her face to her munificent breasts.

I popped the last three buttons and opened the blouse wide, my eyes drinking in the vision before me. My sister's breasts were as lovely as I had fantasised. I almost tipped Janice off my lap as I leant forward to slip the silky material off her shoulders. Tentatively I reached out to a nipple, which seemed to be begging for attention. Another intake of breath and her body shivered as I took the hard nub in my hand and squeezed.

"Don't forget me," Janice broke into our reverie. I turned my face and we kissed while I took hold of the good handful of her breast, mashing and squeezing it, causing her to moan into my mouth. We were both a bit breathless when we stopped kissing. "Let's all go to bed," my sister said huskily.

Janice led the way to Emily's bedroom and I followed my sister, admiring the sway of her bum, clad in skin-tight leggings, and thinking those, cheeks were eminently spankable. Half way up the stairs, Emily stopped, turned and whispered, "Kiss me, Mark." Her kiss was sweet and sexy with a world of promise. "Hurry little brother, I want you to fuck me, I've wanted you for so long." We hurried.

Janice wasted no time in stripping my sister then me and, as Emily and I started exploring each other, she removed her own clothes and joined us on the bed so I was between the two lovely girls. She let my sister and me continue while she watched from the side. Emily was more than ready for me: her pussy was leaking. Her breaths were coming hard and fast when she whispered, "Don't mess about Mark, just put it in me and give me the fucking I've wanted for years."

She spread her legs and welcomed me between them, holding herself open and guiding my erection into her warm tunnel, encouraging me to slip all the way in. "I'm on the Pill Mark, so I want to feel your man-fat filling me." I had to fight to stop myself coming almost as soon as I entered her but, when I had regained control of myself, I started that ages-old movement in and out as she kept raising her hips to meet each thrust. I was surprised at the speed of Emily's first climax, just a few minutes as I lovingly fucked her. Her whole body suddenly went rigid as she squealed out my name and grabbed my arse to pull me in harder. That was enough to break my own resistance and I felt myself pumping my sperm inside her as she clung on to me, sobbing.

When Emily finally released me, I rolled to her side and the two of us just lay there looking into each other's eyes. I wiped her brow of the perspiration, brushing aside her hair that was sticking to her face. We kissed; a loving kiss, full of the tenderness we felt for each other as my tongue gently explored her mouth and entwined with her tongue. I fondled her lovely breasts, tweaking at her erect nipples and her hand roamed over my chest, her fingers finding my own nipples, which received their own tweaking.

Janice had been watching us making love, gently fingering herself to keep her engine ticking over. Now she turned and gave Emily a searing kiss before she commandeered my sister's nearest breast and began mauling the malleable flesh quite viciously. I was fascinated by Janice's fingers digging deeply into Emily's breast like claws and thought my sister would be sporting bruises for a few days. She was moaning as her friend manipulated her tit, and then squeaked as Janice attacked her nipple with her teeth. Seeing my sister enjoying her friend's action, I started treating 'my' breast the same way. Each with a nipple in our mouths, Janice and my eyes met; I could see the lust in there, as I'm sure she saw my own desire. That was but a fleeting moment: Janice swung her body round, pushing my head out of the way, as she knelt and settled her mouth over my sister's pussy and started licking my deposits out of her depths. Emily saw her chance and pulled Janice's pussy down to her own mouth.