Kat & MickbyRed_Writer©
Edited by: Sixty-nine
My brother and I never had gotten along, so when he and his wife of ten years argued, as they often did, there was no doubt as to who had my sympathies. Still, I hadn't expected her to show up at my doorstep that night.
"He's locked me out of the house this time," my red headed sister in-law started in even before she stepped inside the door. "That bastard locked me out of my own house! It's too much this time, even for him!"
"Calm down, Kathleen," I said, trying to soothe her. Still, I knew it was a lost cause. When Kat got her panties in a bunch, it was best not to be standing dead ahead.
"Calm down? Calm down you tell me, Michael O'Shawnessy? You who've not even talked to the man in over five years when you only live four blocks down? I come here for sympathy and solace and you have the flamin' nerve to tell me to calm down?" she railed, her righteous wrath falling now on poor ol' Mick!
"Don't get your dander up with me, Kathleen O'MacNamara," I gave her right back, but gentle-like. "I'm the one that told you not to marry him in the first place. I'm the one that's always been on your side - and still am, I might add. And besides that, young lady, it wasn't so long ago your mother let me cut a switch and tan your backside good for talking back to her elders. I'll do it again tonight if you don't mind!" I argued.
Kathleen's green eyes burned red until slowly, the glee behind her anger broke through and she was laughing fit to be tied. "Play hell you will, old man," she laughed, and laughed so gaily that soon I was joining her. "I'd like to see you try to switch my backside now, you old randy goat. It'd give me good cause for turnabout."
I grinned roguishly at Kat, the thought a very tempting one. It'd almost be worth a switching to wrestle her one way or the other. Kat was a fine woman with fine, round hips and a swelling bosom to make any woman proud. Her long, red hair unfurled behind her in waves, like a gentle breeze through standing barley. She had fine legs too, whenever she cared to bare them, which wasn't often enough.
Yes, Kat was a fine woman and a proud one as well. It took her four weeks to find out she'd made the mistake of a lifetime by marrying my brother. Being a good, catholic girl, she had gotten pregnant by that time. She lost that baby and the one that tried to follow. After that, despite the teachings of the church, Kathleen O'Shawnessy never conceived again. How she accomplished that was a constant source of curiosity to me, but some things a brother in-law isn't supposed to know.
Except that Kat and I weren't just in-laws. Despite our age differences, we were friends from the start. We grew up nearby, her ten years my junior. I had always adored the spunky, neighborhood tomboy. I'd always thought she was levelheaded too until I came back from several years away on business to find the two of them engaged.
My brother Shawn had forbade her to tell me while I was away. He knew I'd try to spoil it for him and save it for her. Despite my best efforts, they were wed two months later. As I said, Kat was proud. Back then, she was also in love.
"So, what are you going to do?" I asked her, nodding towards a chair and pulling out a cold bottle of Irish Mist from the fridge. I knew it was one of Kat's favorite drinks and it certainly was one of mine.
I poured us both half glasses and Kat and I looked over the table at the other. "I don't know, Mick," she said softly, the steam finally billowing out of her sails as she sipped the Mist. "I'm too tired right now. A girl of twenty-eight shouldn't be this tired. I feel like I'm wasting away."
"He's sucked the life out of you, just like he sucked the life out of your womb," I said bitterly without thinking.
Then, seeing how much my words had hurt her, I reached out and took her soft hand in mine. "I'm sorry, Kat. That was damn selfish of me. You know how I feel about you, though. I hate to see what you've gone through all these years, especially knowing that you deserved so much better."
She was quiet for the longest time. We both were. She sipped her Mist and I sipped mine. There wasn't much else that could be said. The only redeeming thing about the time was that Kat let me hold her hand throughout.
I twirled the ring on her finger, the symbol of my brother's pledge. I'd never worn a band myself. I had said I'd just never found the right girl, but that wasn't altogether true. The problem had been, when she had come of age, she had already been betrothed to someone else.
"If you've nowhere else to go tonight, you're welcome to stay here," I told her, stating the obvious. Kat's folks had died four years back, another heartache in her young life. She had a sister but she'd married too and moved off to Springfield to the south.
"I don't know, Michael," Kat said, suddenly very serious and formal. "It just wouldn't be right to stay here alone with you tonight."
"Damn what's right, Kat," I said, more bitterly than I had intended. "It's 'right' that's kept you in a loveless marriage all these years. How many more years of happiness will you sacrifice to what other people think is right?"
Kat grew silent and a bit despondent again, I think. Once more, I cursed my loose tongue. Where Kat was concerned, it seemed I had no self control whatsoever. It was the bane of my life that Kat had more than enough self control for the both of us.
"I'm sorry, Kat…again," I told my sister in-law. "We've had this talk for ten years now and I keep telling myself we won't have it again but we do. You know my mind. I'll try not to bring it up again."
She sighed, then seemed a bit relieved, no doubt having troubles with me with the last thing that Kat needed tonight.
Always the practical girl, she asked, "If I were to stay, where would I sleep."
"In my bed, of course," I said without thinking, trying to remember what business had been so all-fired important eleven years ago while I was away. When I noticed her shocked look, I rolled my eyes and added, "I'll be sleeping on the couch, of course. Just because I tried to get you in my bed eight years ago doesn't mean every invitation after that means the same."
It was after Kat had lost the second child that I tried to bed her. I knew how hard-headed she could be, knew that once she set her mind on not going through losing one again with Shawn, she'd set it for good. I also knew, though, that Kat had always dreamed on having a whole house full of babies.
So, in my arrogance, I'd went and been tested for the birth defect that we'd been told had caused those two blessed ones to leave her womb. Knowing I was cleared, I'd presented her with the answer to her problems. "You can still have O'Shawnessy's," I'd told her. "Shawn would never have to know. They'll even somewhat look like him, though a damn sight more handsome and with a better disposition." It seemed the logical choice to me. Unfortunately, Kathleen was a good girl, always committed to doing the right.
It had ended badly, quite naturally. Kat had not even talked with me for almost a year after. All I had done was pour salt in her wounds. Knowing I'd done that had been the hardest thing for me to bear that year.
But after that we'd patched it up (not quickly because Kat was as stubborn as she was proud). Still, the O'Shawnessy's are known to be a bit hard-headed ourselves. I stuck with it, until Kat and I were friends once more.
"I sleep on the couch half the time anyway," I assured her, my thought returning to the present. "With no one else to please, I sleep pretty much anywhere I want. So it's not like you'd be putting me out,"
"I don't have a thing to wear," Kat said in typical female fashion.
"We'll get you some clothes in the morning, even if we have to go dress you from the store," I assured her. "In the meantime, I have nightclothes you can wear and we can always wash what you have on."
"That doesn't cover all my needs," she said, but at least she was grinning now.
"I can't help much with the top half, but for the bottom I'll loan you a pair of my boxers. They're all the rage with girls your age," I said, giving her grin for grin.
"Like I'd be wearing your boxer drawers," Kat said, her voice ringing with the laughter I loved so much.
"I'd give you clean ones for sure," I said with mock indignity, as though insulted that my drawers were not good enough for the likes of her. If the truth were told, nothing was good enough for my Kat. Nothing I could give her here and now, or perhaps ever. By that same truth, everything I had was hers to ask for.
"Well, come on then," I told her softly. "Even a fool like me can see you're tired. You look like you could use a long bath and then it's straight to bed with you, young lady. Just like when I used to baby-sit you, you know what a harsh taskmaster I can be."
"I know you’re soft as a ball of fluff with as much bluster as only an Irishman can have," she cackled gloriously and managed somehow to make it to the bathroom before I could get my belt off to swat her.
As she drew her bath, I shook my head knowing how hard it was going to be to have her around. Just being around her for a short time already, my heart ached. On several occasions throughout the years, I'd come very close to fratricide. To have Kat here, under my roof, it was almost more than I was ready to bear.
I would bear it though and try to bear it with more grace than I'd shown so far. She needed someone to listen, not rail against what should be. She'd probably nowhere else to turn or, knowing Kat, she'd have turned there first. After all, as I'd told her before, she knew my heart.
I turned down the bed and laid out some clean fleece pajamas. It's a good thing I didn't live as a slob like the worst of our kind still managed. Why is it that those of us who've chosen to do without a wife and mate can seem to do for themselves while those who chose the easier route live as though they had no one to please at all? And why was it that she'd put up with such when...
There I went again. Every time my thoughts would turn to Kat and Shawn, they were always turned in such dark directions. As I put away my last few things left out in my bedroom, I tried to put such contrary thoughts away as well.
As an afterthought, I'd remembered a chocolate treat I'd gotten as a turndown service in the hotel I'd stayed in just the last month. I put it on her pillow, along with a silk red rose I had about the place just as a lark, of course. Then, a bit more deviously, I sprayed just a hint of my cologne on the sheets and pillows. After all, if she were to sleep in my bed, at least I'd have her thinking of me a bit.
I poured us both another Irish Mist just about the time she came outside, clad only in my old bathrobe from the look of things. Now that was a showstopper if ever there was one! Kathleen O'MacNamara all done up in my ratty old terrycloth robe. She never looked a prettier sight nor ever had that robe adorned such finery!
"You can hinge your jaw back shut," she said in mock seriousness, though a long time acquaintance such as myself could hardly mistake her pleasure.
"Sorry," I told her, though we both really knew I wasn't. "I'd forgotten I still had that robe. And right about now, I wish I didn't!"
"You behave or one of us will have to sleep out by the road tonight," she said with a playful grin. Still, there was always the grain of truth in Kat's teases. If I wanted her to stay, I'd have to learn to behave.
"I laid a few things out for you on the bed: some pajamas for the night and some things that might fit for in the morning. Breakfast is served at seven. I have all day to laze around and I want to get an early start of it."
"For someone who claims to be shiftless and lazy, you're the cleanest bachelor I've ever heard of, Michael O'Shawnessy," she told me with a grin. "You're bathtub was so spotless it was almost a shame to muss it up."
"That's because there's no females about the place shedding hair and spilling makeup," I grinned at her again.
"Well still, I don't see how you do it," she said seriously.
For the life of me, I couldn't help myself from throwing one last jab! "I learned the secret to success ten years ago, Kat. Since then I think of whatever I can do that would most gall my little brother if he were right there and that's what I do."
Perhaps it was the shower, the alcohol or the lateness of the hour. Either way, Kathleen's glorious laughter filled my house once more and I was suddenly warmed all over.
"You're a wicked man, Michael. Still, I think I'll take this with me if that's okay with you," Kat said, picking up the bottle of Mist before retreating. I watched her leave with a sigh. That terrycloth never moved half so well as it did departing the room just then.
After pulling out the sleeper in the couch, I cleaned up everything one last time and went to the facilities to prepare myself for bed. After brushing my teeth and other such things, I left a weak light on so Kat could find her way back at night without bumping about.
Then I put myself to bed and went to sleep, or rather, very much pretended I was going to. Instead, I stared up at the ceiling for more than an hour knowing Kat was in my bed right now and I was stuck out here. I wished I could have been a better man and comforted her the way she needed to be. Then again, a better man would have done something to stop this years ago.
I must have dosed because I found myself coming quickly awake. At first, I was disconcerted, being asleep in a strange place. Then I got my bearings and realized what had startled me.
Sure enough, turning to my side, there lay Kathleen O'MacNamara pretty as she pleased beside me. Her eyes were wide and glistening in the moonlight drifting in though the living room window. "Kat, what are you doing?" I whispered, though why I whispered with only the two of us in the house, I couldn't say.
"Screwing up my courage," she whispered back with a nervous giggle, her sweet breath flavored with the fragrance of the Irish Mist.
"Are you drunk?" I asked her, grinning as I did. I'd never seen Kat drink more than three or four glasses of anything. In our families, she was practically a teetotaler.
"I've drunk enough I'm here right now, but not so drunk I'll blame anyone else in the morning," she said cryptically.
Not knowing what to say to that, I wisely said nothing. Lying beside her was enough. Just being near her, was enough. It was Kat herself that broke the long silence.
"I want to try your secret of success," she said softly, smiling gently at me in the near-darkness.
"What do you mean?" I asked, forgetting the quip I had made earlier in jest.
"Whatever galls him most, you said," she explained earnestly. "That's what you do, you said. That's what I want, too." Kat reached her hand across the space that separated us and that hand I loved so much caressed my cheek.
As she touched me, my heart bled real tears. This was exactly what I had always wanted, but for exactly the wrong reasons and the wrong motives. "Kat, I've always loved you, even since you were a girl. Nothing would please me more. But not from spite. Please, darling Kat, turn to me for love, or not at all."
"Michael, you big stupid man," she whispered in a soft, ironic chuckle. "Have you ever known me to be spiteful? Now, I've set aside my thoughts of right and wrong. It's time for you to set aside your pride. Don't send me away. If you do, I'll never come back. I just couldn't bear that."
I touched her cheek then and found it wet with tears. Pulling her gently into my arms, I comforted her as I had wanted to do before.
"And if you stay, Kat," I found the nerve to ask, "what about the next night? If this is just for once, I'm not sure I could bear that."
"If I stay, and if you treat me right, you'll never have to sleep alone again," she promised.
That was all I'd been waiting to hear.
I pulled my sister in-law until we were full against each other. Then I gave her the kiss I'd always wanted to give. Kat's lips were full and as soft as a nursing mother's nipple. The taste of honey and herbs from the Mist was strong and pleasing. As our tongues bathed each other, my hands sought the breasts that I had only dreamed about before tonight.
Together we unbuttoned her fleece pajama top. As I reached the bottom button, I found that the top was all she had been wearing. Underneath was all Kat; all the woman I had loved for so long and couldn't have.
Kissing down her strong, sensitive throat, I came to those milky hillocks I had adored from afar for so long. Her breasts were soft but still firm, the nipples responsive to my tongue as I baptized them. In the moonlight, her breasts glistened by the time that I was done.
Sitting up, I removed my own nightclothes rather quickly. Kat was waiting, watching like a spectator as I disrobed. She ow'ed and aw'ed at appropriate times, making me feel good about what I was offering. I know I wasn't a beauty like Kat, but I felt good enough about myself to know I can please a woman when I tried. I hadn't been celibate all these years, I just hadn't committed to something that was less than the best there was to have.
"Kat, can I tell you what I've wanted for the longest?" I asked her after we were both mostly underdressed. She still had the top about her, though it was opened and she was letting me caress her breasts as we lay side my side.
"Of course, Mick," she sighed, enjoying my hands on her body.
"When I’ve dreamed of you, and I dream about you often, it’s of you on top of me, looking down with those lovely, green eyes.”
"It's been a long time since I’ve been on top of a man, Mick," she laughed quietly, "but they say it's just like riding a bike."
She laid me flat, pushing me back with soft hands, then bent to grab my hard stick into her smaller hands.
"Hmm, from this feel of this, it's more like I'll be riding a horse," she said mischievously. Then she licked the head with a swirling tongue and giggled some more as it jumped in her hands. "A frisky horse, too." She was making me feel good about it, though I knew myself to be no bigger than the average man my size. Kat always had a way of making me feel like I was more than just average.
Taking the head of my cock into her warm mouth, she sucked me gently and bathed the first several inches with her moist tongue. I was in heaven knowing that the love of my life was doing the one thing I'd never thought she would do. I tried desperately to control my hips, to keep from thrusting into her mouth. Somehow or another, I held my passion in check long enough for the desire to pass.
With my cockhead coated wet with her sweet saliva, Kathleen rose over me, moving to seat herself on her stud horse as she had described me. Holding me upright against her tender gap, she turned her womanly hips first this way and then that until the expanded crown of my penis filled the warm, wet gap I had always dreamed about.
We both gasped when I first slipped inside her heat. She looked down at me as if to photograph the image of me beneath her with her eyes. What I wouldn't have loved to have a picture of my Kat preparing to seat herself on me! In the moonlight, she looked like some ancient Irish goddess come down to take me away to faerie land. I would have gone, too. I would have gone anywhere or fought anyone to be under her right now.
Then she slid down abruptly! Before I knew it, more than half of me was sunk inside.
"Ugh, Kat!" I moaned. "You're so warm!"
"Wet for you, too, Michael," she moaned in duet.
Her hips undulated and took a bit more in. Her eager pussy immersed me lovingly like a mother bathing her newborn. With intimate short strokes Kathleen's hips embraced me. I reached for the flare of her pelvis and with two strong hands I pulled her down until I was firmly seated fully inside her.