Brother, My Brother

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"Little" sis goes home to love, life, & brother.
4k words
4.56
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Part 1 of the 4 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 12/11/2003
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Divorce is never easy. It's worse when you live far from where you were born and brought up, away from your family and old friends. It's worse to find all the sympathy of supposed new friends and colleagues goes to that undeserving cretin your ex-husband, who works for the same company but higher up the food chain. Conditions got worse in the months after the decree nisi came through, and I knew I was heading for a breakdown.

Family came through for me, as always. One evening I was sitting in front of the TV, just staring at the screen without taking anything in, when the phone rang. It was Liam, my older brother. 'Hi, Christie, how are you?'

Just the sound of his voice brought me to tears. Before I knew it, without really wanting to, I unburdened myself. Liam is a few years older than me. He was always mature. He listened without interrupting with anything other than the gentlest questions.

At the end of my outpouring there was a moment of silence. 'Chris, you need to get out of there. Give your notice in at work tomorrow, it's not worth suffering that bad atmosphere any longer. I know a couple of people here who are looking for someone in your line of work; I'll have a word with them. You can come and stay with me until you're settled.'

'Oh God, Liam, you're a diamond!' I sighed, feeling all the weight on my shoulders lifting. Big brother, always strong and supportive. We chatted on for hours and when I finally hung up, my ear ached but I felt ready to tackle my problems head-on.

So it was that a long month later the taxi dropped me off at the door to Liam's place. He lives in a converted mews house, a quaint little area of cobblestones and old brick, miles away from my previous world of brushed concrete and steel and hard-edged corporate business. I rang the bell, Liam answered within moments and welcomed me with open arms. I literally fell into them, savouring the closeness of his strong body, his warmth and gentleness.

'You could do with a stiff drink,' he said, taking my things and dropping them in the bedroom he had prepared for me. 'Take a bath at the same time, the water's hot. I have pasta on the go, it'll be ready when you're done.'

Half an hour later I entered the cosy kitchen-diner to find a big plate of pasta waiting, with pitta bread and chilled wine to go with it. Liam smiled at me and I gripped his hand across the table as I ate greedily.

'You're the best, bro,' I said between mouthfuls. 'You'll make some lucky girl a good man.'

His lips twitched. 'Nice of you to say so, but the lucky girls seem to be looking elsewhere.'

I chewed pasta and looked him over. Sandyish hair, a strong square jaw with a hint of stubble at this late hour. Six feet tall and firm of body; I knew he worked out. 'Some people have no taste,' I commented, pointing at him with my fork. 'A hunk like you should be beating women off with a stick!'

'Yeah, right,' he grinned bashfully, then got up to fetch more wine. I let my gaze run all over him as he stood at the fridge selecting a new bottle. Perhaps it was the Chianti I'd already drunk that did it but that was the moment I looked at Liam with something other than a sister's eyes.

A week went by. Liam was as good as his word. He spoke to friends and acquaintances in an effort to find me a job and eventually found a post as PA to the deputy manager of a paint factory. It was a good placement. The guy I worked for was easy-going with his staff once they'd proved their ability. He was also that rarity, a happily married father of three, so I had no fears of being chased around his desk. My gratitude to Liam increased overnight.

We decided to celebrate by going out for the evening, taking in a movie then heading off for a good meal. I took extra care with my appearance, dressing in a black number with a low neckline I'd bought in the city the day before, with matching shoes and bag, my mother's gold necklace and a set of sapphire earings I'd picked up in Paris two years back. Liam's eyes popped out on stalks when I emerged from my bedroom. I did a little twirl for him, delighting in his soft whistle of appreciation and, yes, the brief look of lust in his eyes which he swiftly suppressed. His clasp on my arm as we headed out the door was warm and comforting and, I couldn't help but notice, a little ardent.

The restaurant was good, moderately expensive and the staff discrete. Soft candlelight turned Liam's good looks into those of a handsome stranger, an effect which increased as the night went on and we talked of this and that. I'm 25, he's 29 and a bit. Almost the same generation, and we always found a lot in common. Several years apart in different areas of the country, with only occasional visits and phone calls to keep in touch left us much to talk about and to share with each other.

The waiter had begun to hover, so I poured more wine for us, then raised my glass. 'To the world's best brother!' I saluted him. He grinned and we touched glasses, and I smiled at him warmly.

'To the world's most beautiful sister!' he responded. Again, that brief look of lust came to his eyes, and his face was flushed.

'Thanks!' I winked at him, then glanced at the waiter. 'I think we'd better go.'

We walked home through the crisp starry night, a safe walk of a few hundred yards. I clung to Liam's arm, feeling tipsier as the fresh air began to work on me. He chuckled and his arm came around my waist to hold me close. Glad of his support, I pressed against him and pecked him on the cheek, feeling a thrill at the touch of his skin.

In the hall, I took off my coat and hung it up at the third attempt. Liam thought this hilarious. 'You're drunk!'

'No more than you,' I retorted, poking him lightly in the belly.

He laughed and cuddled me, then smoothed the stray hair back from my forehead, a loving touch that sent a thrill through me. 'Aren't you tired?' he asked.

'No. I'm not ready for bed yet. And it's Friday, so no work tomorrow.'

'There's another bottle or two of wine left. Feel like a nightcap?'

I pressed his nose like a button. 'Why not?' I giggled.

We sat facing each other at the breakfast bar, the wine level dropping steadily in the bottle and our conversation turned maudlin.

'I don't trust women,' Liam sighed, shaking his head. 'Not after my problems with Heidi.'

'Bitches, most of 'em,' I agreed, nodding slowly. Heidi was his ex-girlfriend, an überbitch, hard and driving, mean-mouthed and soul-less; utterly wrong for a gentle soul like Liam. I called her "shit in silk stockings," and was so glad when he found her out and dumped her.

'But you're a woman.'

'I had noticed.'

'Then why d'you agree with me?'

'Because I know you're right, and I'm going to say something equally bad about men, okay?'

'Okay,' he nodded, blinking owlishly.

'Okay. Why are men like cheap tights?'

He thought, then shrugged. 'Dunno.'

'Because they can be full of snags, they tend to run on you, and most don't fit the crotch properly!'

'Ooh! that's bitchy!' he gasped when he'd finished laughing.

'Well, it's true,' I sighed. 'And I don't trust men either, not after Mike (my ex).'

'I trust you, Chris,' he said, sounding slightly hurt.

'And I trust you, Liam,' I replied. 'I just don't want to commit to anyone again.'

'Nor do I.'

'Previous joke aside, all I miss is the sex,' I grumbled. 'There's only so much you can do yourself.'

He chuckled. 'I agree. Me too.'

We fell silent for a long while, taking stock.

'So where does that leave us?' he asked plaintively.

I leaned across the breakfast bar and gave him a long, lingering kiss on the lips. His eyes were bright and glittering when I drew back. 'Chris...' he began to say but I shook my head and got up, wavering unsteadily.

'No, Liam. I'm nearly drunk, you're not far off either, and we're in no fit condition to do anything tonight which will make us feel bad in the morning. Let's go to bed, our own beds, and sleep on it.'

I left him sitting there, amidst the bottles and glasses. As I weaved out of the kitchen I heard him sigh heavily.

The next morning saw me with a moderate hangover, the first I'd had for a long while. It was Sunday, so I lay in bed, lightly dozing or running through our conversation of the previous night. A lot of thoughts had been sparked in my mind, most to do with Liam, and what he so obviously felt for me. I wasn't too surprised to find myself growing moist between my thighs at the illicit thought of what it might lead to.

A hot shower took away the worst of the hangover symptons and I was feeling up to breakfast. Liam was sitting at the bar, dressed in his red robe, the Sunday paper spread in front of him. He smiled a wan greeting as I came in, then bent his head to read as if embarrassed to meet my eye. I looked him over, chewing my lip as I thought of how I could approach the matter so uppermost in my mind. As a stop-gap to any plan I fixed us both coffee, placing his cup to his side as I sat opposite him. I glanced at the paper, reading upside-down - and there was my opening.

It was an article about the incestuous relationship which had formed between a brother and sister. They had been seperated soon after birth, each going to a different foster-family. As adults they naturally began to question who they were, where they came from. Through the miracle of the internet, they found each other, met - and fell into a love affair. There was even some posh psychological term for it which escapes me.

Even as I read the article I could feel Liam's close concentration on it too.

'What do you think of this?' I asked him quietly, tapping the article with my finger.

'It all ends in tears,' he muttered, not looking up. 'They were both married to other people, who got rather upset when they found out. It wasn't long before the cops became involved.'

'True.' I paused. 'Yet would anyone have known if the two of them hadn't been married? I mean, if a couple are in an incestuous relationship, only close friends and family are likely to find out, right?' I took a deep breath. 'We'd be different.'

Then he did look up at me, sharply. His expression was guarded. 'What do you mean?' he asked.

It was time to make my pitch. My stomach felt cold and my nerves twanged like violin strings as I laid my hands over his. 'Liam, we're neither of us married. Neither of us have a boy or girlfriend. Christ, even our folks don't live in this country anymore.' (They had retired to Spain for health reasons). 'Last night we both said how we don't trust other men, or women, yet we trust each other. And we're both healthy adults, with adult needs.'

My gaze was eloquent. His hardly less so.

'You are serious?' he asked softly. 'You want us to have a sexual relationship?' The look on his face! Incredulous, sceptical; yearning.

'As part of our loving family relationship, yes. I love you, Liam, as my brother and for being there when I needed you. I want to show how much I love you in every way I can.'

Just saying those words made me so hot and moist and my heart was going like a trip-hammer.

'I don't know,' he murmured, gazing at me. 'I don't know.'

'I do, my darling brother. Look,' I went on, 'you must be feeling the need for sex, right? I know I am.'

He nodded, a pained look on his face. 'Yes, but I'm not sure about this,' he murmured, his eyes deep and troubled.

'Then we can sleep together, enjoy each other as adults. All I ask is that you don't enter me.'

'Why not?' He blushed, realising his slip gave away his growing compliance.

'At least don't enter my cunny, because I want to feel you, skin-to-skin. I don't like condoms,' I explained. 'If you like what we do, then I'll go on the pill. Okay?'

I waited with trepidation for him to reply, feeling I may have pushed things too far.

My darling bro just looked at me, then he took a deep breath and nodded. 'Okay.'

We went to his bedroom, me leading him by the hand. Liam still seemed reluctant, yet not too much so. He stood quietly as I pulled the blinds closed. His room wasn't overlooked but I wanted to be sure there were no witnesses for what we were about to do.

'There!' I said, stepping close to him. I gently ran my hands over his chest, feeling the tension in his firm body through the fabric of his robe. 'Let's take this off, shall we..?'

I undressed him, as I'd done a few men in my time. But this was my brother, a man I'd played with as a kid, fought with as a stroppy teenager. Now I was about to make him my lover.

Tossing his robe aside, I dipped my head and ran my tongue lightly over his nipples, feeling the tickle of his chest hair. His chest rose and fell in a deep sigh, and he reached up to stroke my long chestnut hair. 'That's good!' he gasped.

'Then let's take it further,' I whispered, my throat feeling tight. When I turned my gaze to his crotch, his cock made a huge bulge in the front of his trunks. 'Ooh, dear me!' I grinned. 'Let's let the poor thing out before it suffocates!'

I kneeled and pulled on the band of the trunks, teasing him and myself by doing it slowly, savouring the sight first of his bush of wiry brown pubic hair, then the increasing length of his cock until it finally popped free.

My first thought was "God! He's big!" Mike had been an adequate six-incher, yet bro... bro was nine inches if he was nothing else. As I grasped his stiffened member, my long fingers could barely stretch around the circumference, and, as I eased his foreskin back, my pussy flooded at the thought of taking the monster inside me.

He clasped my head then, looking down at me with yearning eyes. I stared back for a long moment, then bobbed my head and ran my tongue all over and around the engorged purple head. He tasted of Man, all musk and a sweet trace of pre-cum. My lips closed about it and I leaned forward, taking him deeper.

Liam gasped and shuddered as I took him into my mouth. 'Oh no!' he moaned softly, and his hips began to jerk, each spasm thrusting his cock deeper. I had enough warning to take a gulp of air before it filled my throat, then he groaned as he spent himself all over my larynx. I held his shaft until the spasms of his climax passed, then drew back, washing him clean with my tongue.

'I'm sorry, it's been so long, I...' he began, red-faced, but I shook my head.

'It's okay! I understand. I would have been surprised if you had held on. Hey!' I grinned, standing and embracing him. 'I'm your sister; you're bound to feel more aroused than if you'd fucked aother girl. Come here.'

I cuddled him, and felt his arms wrap around me to hold me closer. His lips found their way to my throat, then my cheeks and lips and we kissed, deeply. His flacid cock pressed lightly against my belly and I knew it wouldn't be long before he hardened again.

Then his hands came around and slipped inside my robe, the touch of his palms hot and rough on my soft skin. Tentatively, looking a question into my eyes, he began to ease my robe from my shoulders. I nodded encouragement, my heart pounding beneath my breasts as his slipped it off to gaze with wonder.

I was naked beneath, something he had suspected. I watch my diet, I had begun a keep fit regime, working-out for muscle tone. Let's face it, I knew I was looking good. My 36c-28-36 figure was honed and toned and brother showed it in his silly grin. Pulling him onto the bed, I drew him into my arms and we kissed and cuddled, our hands wandering at will, exploring each other. Sure enough, his cock began pressing into me with greater hardness than ever, and I knew something had to be done.

'69,' I whispered, sliding down and around, kissing a path over his trembling body, down over his hairy chest, flat stomach and belly to his cock, standing as proud as a flagstaff as he saluted me. I kissed and licked his helmet, feeling his lips wandering over my thighs towards my quim as he responded in kind. Parting my thighs I felt his hot breath on my labia and the juice positively poured from me in response. Then he licked me, his tongue probing deep along my crack and I gasped and shuddred as wave after wave of sensation poured up through my body. I fell upon his cock and devoured it, taking him deep into my mouth as his tongue worked magic in my sex.

Spasms of pure delight shot through me, and I gasped and groaned around the meat filling my mouth and throat until I could bear no more. I orgasmed with a muffled scream of ecstasy and Liam's hips thrust, thrust, and thrust again as he came in my mouth, the sweet seed spilling out to smear my lips, cheeks and throat.

I admit I was a tease for the next five days. Not long after I had moved in I registered with a local doctor and the very next day I got a prescription for the pill after the usual examination. That night, as Liam watched, I held up the first tablet.

'One!' I grinned, popping it into my mouth and swallowing it with a mouthful of water. His face was a picture, mixed shock, ardour, and, yes, a little fear at what we were doing - and what we were going to do, once the pill took effect.

Tuesday: "Two!" Wednesday: "Three!" Thursday: "Four!"

On Thursday evening I shaved my pussy. I normally only do it in summer, when it feels more comfortable during the hot months. This night, I perched naked on the edge of my bedroom chair with a mirror propped before me and got to work. As I said, I'm a tease; I left my door wide open, and it wasn't long before brother-mine wandered past, did a classic double-take, and came back to stare. I looked up, winked at him, then pushed the door shut with my foot.

The instructions for the pill say it must be taken for four days before having unprotected sex. I waited five. Why? Because the waiting made it all the sweeter! That and the fact if we had fucked the Thursday I would be walking around at work the next day with a silly grin on my face, which would raise some awkward questions.

Liam and I kissed and cuddled often that week, but I never let him go further than that. 'Save it, my darling,' I'd whisper, when his hands wandered around to my breasts and crotch.

On Friday morning we both tip-toed around each other, hardly daring to contemplate the night to come. Liam had a permanent hard-on which he totally failed to hide. How he managed at work I don't know; during the day my own work suffered to the point when my boss became concerned. I passed it off as "woman's troubles" and he nodded understandingly.

Came the evening... Liam was home early, looking haggard and scared. As I dropped my coat and bag in the hall, I looked at him closely. 'Are you having second thoughts?' I asked softly.

'Are you?' he challenged.

By way of an answer I went up to him, wrapped my arms around his waist and reached up to give him a long, lingering kiss.

After that everything went a little hazy. I know we undressed somehow, as I have a vague recollection of us practically dragging the clothes off each other as we staggered, linked tightly together, into his bedroom.

Before many moments had passed we were both naked and lying in each other's arms on his bed. Liam looked down at me, his hot, strong hands sliding over my firm breasts, ribs and belly before he cupped my right breast and pressed it to his lips. I arched my back, offering him my fruit, and he began to suckle hungrily at my teat, drawing the nut-brown bud to full erectness. I caressed his hair, feeling his hard body pressing against me, his manhood poking me hard in the thigh. As his lips played their magic on my breast, his right hand wandered down, down, until it slipped between my thighs to feel my sopping-wet cunny, open and hot and aching for him.

I gasped as his fingers slid into me, running up and down my outer lips, then my inner, then, with a quick grin, he eased back the hood of my clit and stroked the hardening bud with his fingertips.

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