"Is this it?"
"The bathroom is on the landing. But it's about 8 times bigger than my rig."
"I can't believe this, any of this. You really drive a giant truck?"
"Road train with up to 200 tons on my back."
"Fuck! OK, this is gonna be a long and hard conversion. I've wine and it's mandatory. Glasses?"
I got tall boy glasses, which seemed to fit the need. I'd have used pint glasses if I had any. With nothing to sit on but the bed, we sat side by side.
"Where do we start? 15 years of exile or the other night?" She said, filling both glasses.
"Let's try the regular family stuff first. Regardless of what else happens, I'm here for our parents for 3 weeks. We need to fake it for them."
"OK, I'll start. I've been married to Patrick for 9 years. You have a niece, Kylie and a nephew, Nathan 7 and 4, respectively. Meeting them and being a good uncle is not negotiable. OK."
"Sure I love kids. Never been able to eat a whole one but..." she glowered at the feeble joke.
"Still an arsehole when it comes to jokes, I see."
"Sis, this is mega weird. My reaction is always to joke, so it doesn't hurt so much. Go on."
"I'm an accountant, or I should say work in an accounts department, as I remember you were such a pedant. And a fucking maths whizz. What's 15% of 540?" She asked.
"81." I replied a moment later.
"How the fuck to you do that and how did you end up the family fuck up?"
"The answer to both is easy. 10% of 540 is 54 and 5% is half that, so 27. At the two together and it's 81. The second part is, one of us had to be the fuck up and I already had done the leg-work."
"You never explained why you took the blame and fucked off out of our lives like that?"
"I loved my sister..."
"I think the other night proved just how much you loved your sister." She said with heat.
"Stop." I used a low and intense voice. It's got me out of a hell of a lot of fights when it's said right.
Almost like it stroked a primal fear. Or I've read too many comic books.
"Josie, fighting and recriminations aren't going to do anything but make matters worse. You asked why I threw my life away and the answer was you. I'd blotted my copybook with the law and our parents. I wasn't about to let you do the same. You know dad's attitude to drugs after what I did.
"I'm amazed you had any at 17 and left them lying around. Heck, if you'd come to me, and I couldn't talk you out of it, not only could I have gotten them cheaper and safer. I could have told you how to hide them. Dad was on a crusade, and you'd have been collateral damage. You had your whole life in front of you. So I took the bullet."
"Seriously, you burned your whole life, your friends and stuff for me?"
"It wasn't that big a deal." Which was a transparent lie. "Look, I was heading down a darker path than I wanted. Saw little chance of exit and rolled a big dice to see if it would work out in the end, and it did."
That was more honest and open than I usually allow myself to be. I was shocked when Josie hugged me and I heard tears.
"I still think you're a dickhead and a pervert." She said as she sat back and wiped her eyes. "Where was I? Oh yes, Patrick is 3 years older, is an under manager in a bank and a wonderful husband and father."
I wanted to ask if he knew about her parties, but kept silent for now.
"What about mum and dad?"
"Not much, really. They retired last year. As you know, I tried to get you to come home that time as well."
"And I explained that surprise parties only work if the people are surprised. Which does not work if you do a surprise party for every event. Besides, I said I had urgent things I needed to fix."
"More important than mum and dad?"
"More urgent. There was a huge fire, and I needed to sort stuff out."
"Is a fireman one of your jobs now?"
"Fuck Josie, this is like your 14 again. I own land and have a house on it. A bushfire ran through the area and I needed to see if anything was left."
"You own land? How much?"
"Not much, 200 hundred acres."
"What's that in numbers I might understand?"
"Call it about a third of a square mile."
"Mile? That's what in real numbers?"
"If it was square, just under a thousand yards square."
"Fuck! That's huge."
"It's tiny in Ozzie terms. I bought the land ten years ago. It was pretty worthless, a dried-up creek and a few interesting caves. I discovered a guy who pioneered land recovery with drought-tolerant plants that created shade and helped trap moisture in the soil. You've seen those terraced farms on mountain sides? He worked to create ways to slow down water when you got some. Giving it the chance to let it soak into the soil and reduce flooding.
"I did a load of that and left it alone for 5 years. When I went back, there were more plants that I'd not planted and insects and birds. So I did some more planting and improvements and now there is water in the creek all year round. In another few years, I might build some holiday homes to rent out."
"Just like I don't recognise my brother. Don't get me wrong, but I've never heard you speak with such passion about anything before." I shrugged awkwardly.
Passion reminded me of the other night and set my mind on a whole another track.
I filled her in on the dozens of jobs I'd done over the years and some of the things I'd done.
"You're married?" She exclaimed.
"Not anymore."
"Sorry. How long ago?"
I looked at my ring finger and saw the indentation that was still there.
"About a month ago. I came home from a long trip to find my wife entertaining." I didn't need to be explicit.
"What happened?"
"The guy went over the balcony. Don't worry, he was ok. Mostly."
"And your wife?"
"I just grabbed a few things and left her to it."
"It must have hurt."
She hugged me again, and I struggled not to think about her breasts from the other night.
"Do you mind not doing that?"
"I can't hug my brother?"
"After the other night, it's not a good idea."
"Sorry. Was the divorce hard?"
"Surprisingly not. I got drunk, did a few stupid things and called her a few days later. We talked it through like grown-ups and agreed to go our separate ways."
Josie looked at her hands.
"So..." she started, then got up to refill the wine.
"Yeah, the other stuff. Where to start? My side is simple. I got in touch with Tony to see the lay of the land and make sure I wasn't stepping on anyone's toes. He took me out and got me drunk, then the following night he took me to the party without telling me what it was. I've no idea how you come into it. Wait, should I have mentioned Tony by name?"
"It's fine. The ladies all talk so we know each other. Anyway, I've known him almost as long as you have. We even dated briefly."
"And he doesn't recognise you?"
"It was a long time ago and I've changed. And besides, we never went further than kissing and first base. Is this weird we're talking about my love life?"
"Given that I inadvertently became part of it, the weirdness is just going to get worse. So, how did you get involved?"
"It's a long story."
"I've got weeks. So go ahead. I think at this stage we can't hide behind our blushes."
"Just after we conceived Nathan, Patrick started to complain about a pain in his balls. At the time, I thought he was just hinting I wasn't giving him enough blow jobs. I had bad morning sickness and sex was out."
"Sorry to interrupt already, but where did my sister learn to be that good at blow jobs?"
She blushed. "A girl has to have some secrets. God, this is hard. Not just talking about oral sex with my brother, but him knowing how I do it. You answer me a question. Did I get you close?"
"Shit, sis. So close. Another 30 seconds and I'd have blown. I've had more than my share of blow jobs, even by some professionals, and yours was the best hands down."
"Thanks, I think. Not something I'd expected to be complimented on by my brother."
"Tony said he only lasted by chewing the inside of his cheek."
"Really, I might have to try something new next time."
I wanted to ask, after that happened, why she'd continue, but remained silent.
"Anyway, I suspect that most of the others have a cheeky wank just before the party to try to make them last. But I was talking about Patrick. He went to the doctors eventually and was diagnosed with testicular cancer. They got in time, but lost both his balls. It was a horrible time, as I was weeks away from giving birth when he went in for his operation.
"That's rough, sis. It must have been awful." I squeezed her free hand, and she gave a sniffle.
"It was, but he got through it. But not without issues?"
"What? He couldn't..." I gestured hard-on.
"No, that worked ok, provided he uses a testosterone patch every day. It was more psychological. He didn't think of himself as a man any more. He can still orgasm, but not ejaculate. I tried to get him to talk to councillors, but he hates that sort of thing. But it got so bad he suggested we split so I could be with a real man. While he kept supporting us."
"That's bad."
"I even worried he might do something stupid like harm himself. Men are so stupid at times."
"You're preaching to the choir sister." I held my hand up for a high-five. She glared at me. "What I mean is women don't own the copyright on neurosis over sex and self-image. A man and his relationship to his orgasm is deep and complicated. Want me to talk to him?"
"What makes you an expert? The brother I knew would crawl through broken glass naked rather than discuss emotional stuff."
"That was 15 years ago. A lot of water under the bridge. I've got a story about two guys I know, Bluey and Roo."
"Seriously? How Aussie is this story?"
"Bluey is really Keith. But he and a mate were deep water fishing and drunk and messing about in the boat. Not a good idea. Something happened and the next thing he knows is a fishing hook as big as my finger hooks through his scrotum and rips it open and severs both balls. Everyone was drunk and panicking. Someone scooped them up and put them in the ice with their beer.
"They turn back to port, but it's about 2 hours and they call the coast guard who came to get him. It still took an hour and a half to get him to the Hospital. But by then they found his balls were frozen solid and impossible to reattach. Normally, people with ginger hair are called Bluey, but in this case, I think you can guess why he got the nickname."
Josie frowned, then shook her head in amusement. "He's Bluey, because he literally had blue balls. Jesus, how crap is that?"
"I didn't name him. But he adopted it and even bribed someone to pickle them in formaldehyde and he carried them around in a little glass jar. Used them as a conversation piece. Although you have to watch him when he's drunk as he would threaten to drop them into your drink."
"Ew!"
"Yep. Anyway then there was Roo, or Rupert. He was like Patrick. Cancer, blah, blah, blah. Only he took to drinking and ended up assaulting his wife and got two years in prison. Lost his wife and kids, as well as his home, because he couldn't adjust."
"How is that a good story to help, Patrick?"
"Because Bluey recognised that an orgasm is not what makes you a man. That is being there for your kids and wife. If she came home from work tired, he'd give her a foot rub if the kids were there. And if they were out, he'd give her a full body massage with a happy ending. He even went to the effort of hiring two lesbian hookers..."
"For his wife or him?"
"His wife, indirectly. Who better to master cunnilingus than a professional? After that, I never saw his wife without a smile on her face and she was more in love with her husband than ever. I didn't know about the hookers at the time when I drunkenly asked his wife their secret. She talked to Bluey and arranged to show me."
"Show you? Not tell you?"
"Turns out she had a thing about me before she met Bluey. She was a bit of an exhibitionist, so I'd already seen her topless and she had a fantasy of having someone watch her. So I watched as Bluey gave me a master class on cunnilingus with his wife's commentary on the side."
"So you just watched?"
"Yeah. I wasn't going to try to step in and fuck up their marriage. And I was doing it as a prop to help fix up my marriage. Not that it worked, even if she commented I was suddenly a lot better."
"Perhaps she thought you were cheating?"
"I'd not thought about that. I should have explained it to her. But what I'm saying is Bluey threw himself into pleasing his wife and got his manliness back from that. That was the point for Patrick. Does he know about those parties?"
"Of course. It was his idea, in a way. Look, this bit is a bit more uncomfortable and I don't want to see you looking at me. Can we lie back on the bed and look at the ceiling?"
"Patrick suggested I find a lover, but that felt too much like cheating."
"Sorry to say this, sis, but how are the parties not?"
"We never normally have actual sex. Normally, it's some sexy naughty fun. A little nudity, some touching, and I go home excited and tell Patrick about it and hopefully I get a chance to regain my husband for a bit."
"You missed out on the blow jobs and fingering. Does he know that bit?"
"Actually, I exaggerate it. He thinks I have full sex each time. Before the other night, technically I'd not fucked a guy at the party."
"Technically? That sounds like a cop-out."
"OK, about my second or third party, during the women's bottomless round, a guy did what you did and turned me around. But he got me to bend over and before I knew it he managed to ram his dick partway inside me. I screamed in shock and the other men dragged him away and threw him out. His wife went ballistic and I think they got divorced."
"Is that it?"
"I suppose Alan counts, but I've never fucked him at a party."
"You've had sex with him?"
"OK, let me explain. A little over two years ago, coming up to Christmas, Patrick was really depressed, and I was desperate to figure out what to do. When I attended our company Christmas party at Alan's house. It's a big house, as you know, and I was driving, because with a two-year-old at home, I didn't fancy a hangover.
"I was in the hall hanging out when I heard two women talking about Alan's parties and I realised one woman was explaining it was a sex party. I couldn't believe it but she was trying to persuade her friend to talk her husband into it. I peeked into the room to see a pair of women in their 50s. They didn't see me and I learned a lot.
"Towards the end of the night, I found Alan sitting in a room alone and I asked him about the parties. He blustered and denied it, but I kept telling him details from the woman and he tried to claim one woman was winding the other up. But he wasn't selling it. I knew he'd fancied me from the day I got the job and I may have used my feminine wiles to try to talk him around.
"I told him about Patrick's problem and how if I attended a party, it might help him. Alan said he'd think about it and declared it was time to end the party. On Christmas Eve, when most of the office was getting ready for the holidays, he called me into his office. He said he was very reluctant to talk about something so private when it might leak out. Especially someone outside his social circle.
"I asked if there was anything to prove I was reliable and discreet. He smiled and said that if a person were to pull their skirt up and sit on his desk with their legs apart, he might think about it. It was naughty, and I'd not have satisfactory sex for 2 years. So I did it. Sitting there with my panties on display. Alan was sitting at his desk and could have reached out to touch me."
"Did he?"
"No, not that time. I felt myself getting very wet, partially for doing it in front of my boss, and that we were at work and someone could walk in on us. I'd never had a rush like that before. After a few minutes of looking, he picked up his mobile phone and started to fiddle with it as if I wasn't there."
"That's a bit rude. I know from experience I'd not look away."
"I realised what he was doing, and I needed to do more to convince him. So I glanced at the door and unbuttoned my blouse and opened it to show off a sexy new bra. Alan was speechless. He'd been trying to sneak a peek for years."
"To be fair sis, you tits are world class. I've seen millions and yours are superior to any others I've ever seen."
"Millions? Yeah, right?" She replied sarcastically.
"I'm a single guy with access to the internet. So it's only 1/2 a million woman, as they generally come in pairs. Plus, there are lots of topless beaches in Oz."
"OK. But it worked. My boobs mesmerised him into telling me about the parties and earned me an invitation to the next one if I wanted. I told him I needed to talk to my husband, and I'd let him know. Patrick was excited about the idea, as he'd always had a fantasy about showing my body off to others. Which came as a surprise to me."
"I can't say I blame him. It's like having the Mona Lisa and not letting anyone know what a lucky bastard you are."
"At the time there weren't that many couples and Tony provided one or two professionals to pad the numbers and they would do more than the wives might do. Anyway, the first party he went without professionals and it was a little tame to test the waters and see if I was up for it. Kissing and touching, but not fingering or blow jobs. Just hand jobs. And I loved it and so did Patrick. He practically begged me to go to the next one.
"He pointed out that the advantage of the parties and the group was I was less likely to get emotionally involved like if I took a single lover. Which I'd not considered at the time."
"Actually, that makes sense. I'm not sure I could be detached to go with my partner though." I replied.
"I have to admit at first I found it sexy fun. But I gradually found I loved the attention and the rush from it. Being naked and touched by pseudo strangers was so hot. Plus, being the youngest woman and lusted over each time was intense. The money was just a bonus."
"I was a bit worried about that, you getting paid..."
"It's not like that!" She snapped.
"Sorry, it's just..."
"I'd keep going at this stage even without the cash. I'm sort of addicted to it. Anyway, we use the money for family holidays. Patrick doesn't know the money comes from the parties. I'd pay it into my bank and claim it was just a work bonus."
"What about Alan, you know Claire knows about the pair of you?"
"I thought as much. We've not been as discrete as we should have been. How do you know Claire's name?"
"After I'd..."
"After you'd fucked your sister to multiple orgasms." Josie said.
"OK, but neither of us knew the other person. Anyway, after you left. I took the sheet away as I knew it was our hostess from her shoes. She checked on Alan to find him passed out and took me to her bed for comfort. Had some fun and took some photos..."
"Can I see them?" She asked eagerly, rolling on her side to look at me.
I picked up my phone, then hesitated. "I really should get her permission, really."
"How?" she asked. They mimed using a phone. "Hello Claire, I'm lying on my bed with number 5, who turns out to be my sister. Mind if I show her our fuck photos?"
"Good point. You really want to see them?"
"It's not like I've not seen her naked. Or you, for that matter. Which is weird."
"But explicit photos of us fucking?"
"It's not like I don't know what fucking you felt like."
"I'll think about it. You said you've not fucked before at these parties. Why the other night?"
"It was you."
"Why me?"
"Everyone else but Tony and I are older, middle-aged couples. Having us there makes it more exciting for them. Spices up their sex lives. But when it's the same people every time. This plateau. Having a new guy who was a big hit in every way lit the touch paper of all the women. Usually, the woman's bottomless round has fewer participants and apart from Maureen and me the others don't allow anything inside."
"And the fucking?"
"Don't let it go to your head, and this is nothing against my husbands, but your cock was the biggest I've seen outside porn. I knew I'd never forgive myself if I'd not tried it. After all, I'd been lying to Patrick and saying I'd had sex at each party. Doing it for real didn't seem like such a big deal.
"Until you found the dick belonging to your long-lost brother."
"I know. No matter how much I freaked out when I discovered that. It didn't take away from the fact it was the best sex I've ever had in; ever."
"I know that feeling. It's Sod's law on steroids. I finally found the perfect woman. A woman I'd be prepared to go halfway around the world to be with and she turns out to be married, and my sister. Which is a double kick in the shitter."
"You think I'm perfect?"
"Ok, it's your personality that loses you the perfect title. Physically and sexually, then yeah. Sorry, if it's hard to hear, but even now I can't stop thinking about you sexually."
"Is that why I can see a bulge in your pants?"
"Sorry, but it was the best sex ever. The only downside was I couldn't have you to myself instead of the other men and women there. I want to..."
"What? Cuz you did a heck of a lot."
"I wanted to take you up and hold you in my arms. More than just sex, I wanted to be with you. Forever."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Sorry if that's too much."
"Actually, it's kinda sweet. A bit soppy for you. But it makes me feel better. With the others, it's just a bit of fun, but it's deeper with you. Knowing you feel that way takes some of the curse off it."
"What about Alan? You said you had sex, but not at the parties?"
"OK. I'm not so proud of this bit, and I've not told Patrick about it. He thinks I've already fucked him at the parties, so when it started I decided to not tell him. And now I don't think I can. It was a little over a year ago. About half the guests cancelled at the last minute with a flu outbreak. But the party went ahead, with only 5 guys, including Alan.
"All four of the others didn't make it past the blow job round, and Alan only made it because I was trying not to annoy his wife. As she knew he was sniffing around me."
"Literally I bet. Your pussy did taste very tasty."
"I can't believe my brother knows what I taste like. Anyway, you know any guy who blows leaves the party, so the party ended early despite them begging to ignore that rule one time. I was really disappointed as I was looking forward to the next round. Alan wasn't drinking that night as he had medical tests the next day and offered to drive me home.
"We both complained about how the evening had ended and I admitted I was so horny about missing out on being fingered. So he offered to help me out and got me to remove my panties in his car and reached over to finger me as he drove. It was nice, but kinda awkward for both of us. I offered to give him a blow job and he could cum that time. But he admitted he'd always wanted to go down on me properly. Instead of just a lick in front of his wife.
"When he suggested we divert via the office to have a little fun, I was all up for it. The time on his desk had left a fantasy to do it at work high on my list. He stripped me naked, and I knelt under his desk to suck him and finished the job properly that time. Then he lifted me onto his desk and went down on me."
"Sorry sis." I interrupted and pushed my hand into my pants to move my erection to a more comfortable position.
"It's ok, well not really, but after the other night and the subject matter I understand. I'm a little moist myself."
"Don't tell me that!" I moaned, and she giggled.
"Anyway, he was lapping away at my juicy, hungry pussy." She said, playing up the sexiness. "After he got me off, I was starting to recover when he stood and just put it in me."
"Really. You didn't stop him?"
"First, I'd been claiming to my husband we'd done it before, and second you saw me the other night, once I climax, I need more. So while it wasn't 'you' sex, it was still good. But I think part of that was the location and the risk."
"I know that. I dated a girl once who claimed she could only get off with the risk of getting caught."
"Like where?"
"Beaches obviously. A construction site of a skyscraper. Overlooking an office full of people. We definitely were seen, but got finished and away before anyone came for us. The last time was on a balcony overlooking a sports bar. Someone, saw us and got the CCTV feed to show us fucking on every screen."
"So you're a porn star? It explains your size now."
"Twice over, it seems."
"What do you mean?"
"Claire has a video of us as well as the photos."
"Damn, I wonder if I can persuade her to show me it next time we meet."
"Isn't it awkward around her with what you and Alan did?"
"Do." She corrected me and sighed. "And given what we do at the parties, we sort of pretend things don't happen. It is a fallacy, but we hide behind it. After that one time in the office, we started messing around at work. Nothing too bad."
"Like what?"
"He'd call me into his office to review some figures I'd done. I'd stand next to his chair, and he'd slip his hand up under my skirt and fondle my bum or brush his finger over my pussy through my panties." She giggled. "I remember I nearly wet myself when someone poked their head into his room to say the next appointment was waiting for him."
"Did they see?"
"No, but they must have seen me flushed. Other times, I'd be in his chair and changing figures on the screen. He'd reach over my shoulder and slip his hand down my blouse and into my bra." She looked over, and I saw she was looking at my crotch before looking away.
"I remember the look on his face when I said we had to stop doing stuff in the office. My relatively low position in the office didn't justify the number of times I'd been in the office with him. You could tell he thought I was trying to screw him over to a promotion or something. It took quite some persuading to convince him I wasn't."
"Let me guess, something sexual?"
"It was stupidly dangerous when I think back, but I wasn't thinking. I got topless and got under his desk and sucked him off while he played with my tits. After that, we limited it to once a month or so, but we also started to go back to his place when Claire was out. Oh god! This is worse than I thought when I lay it all out. Isn't it?"
"It's not great. First question is, do you have feelings for Alan? Remember Patrick's comment about safety in a group?"
"No, not really. The sex is ok if I'm honest, but it's that he takes charge and the rush from the risk."
"And the risks are going up. You're twisting things to fit a definition that suits you."
"Meaning?"
"You twist the fact you claimed to have sex with Alan to justify having an affair."
"It's not an affair?"
"Are you fucking, just the two of you in secret and not telling Patrick? That sounds like an affair. And fucking your boss with his wife aware is extra dangerous. She could out your activities, force him to get rid of you or split up. Then the other night, you agreed to fuck a random stranger without a condom just because you liked the look of his dick."
"Fuck! What if..."
"Don't worry, after I left my wife, I got checked out just in case and I'm clean. But you were thinking with a hungry vag and not your brain."
"What should I do?"
"Change jobs, stop seeing Alan and stop going to the parties."
"I'm not sure I can. Does that make me a bad person?"
"I'd never think I'll of you, sis. How about this, you like someone to take charge? Talk to Patrick and explain that to him. Tell him about your love of being shown off and then arrange for the pair of you to join a sex club."
"Seriously?"
"The active members get health screening and you can wear masks if you want. Get stripped and touched, but under Patrick's supervision. If you're his to control, he doesn't have to perform sexually, but can decide if you do or don't. It may make him feel more like a man with every male and female lusting after you."
"Women?"
"I almost feel it's unfair to women in general to never have the chance to experience your oral skills." Josie shuddered. "You ok."
"Yeah, I just had a very intense image of being extremely naughty with a woman."
"You like the idea. I can tell." Josie blushed. "I'm just saying a club like that you can try anything you want without the consequences of involving friends."
"Or family. Is that uncomfortable?" she nodded to my bulge. "It must be given your size."
"It is."
"I wouldn't care if you made yourself more comfortable." She said it trying to sound casual and looking away.
"Why?"
She glanced at me briefly. "If you won't show me the photos of you and Claire. I wouldn't mind another look at it. "
"But the other night..."
"The other night I either had 11 other women vying to look and touch it. Or it was stuck in my mouth and I'd be crossed eyed looking at it. And then..."
"I know. I pounded your perfect pussy. You really just want to look?" She nodded. "What about your freak out the other night?"
"What about your mate, Dale? We can't change what happened. You were right. Until I knew it was you. It was an amazing night. I cannot pretend it didn't happen or that I totally loved it. You've been gone nearly half my life and you're a virtual stranger. If I think of you as a long-lost friend, I can accept that.
"Now I've actually fucked people at a party. I want to get the details right to tell Patrick."
"You've not told him yet?"
"No, with mum and dad's party I've not had the chance."
"Do you just want me to unzip?"
"If you're offering, I'd love to see you fully naked. Seeing you a bit at a time isn't the same."
"You owe me!"
"Brother, I owe you more than I can ever repay by throwing your life away for me."
"It's worked out better for me if it hadn't. Here, I'm not sure what I'd have done. Probably prison time, or worse." I stripped off my shirt and watched Josie's expression.
"OK, I've never really liked a big guy with muscles, but you look great."
"Most of it is from real work and not just bulking up at the gym." I was trying to be casual as I unfastened my trousers and dropped them and my boxers.
Josie inhaled sharply as her eyes locked on my erection. After long seconds, she gestures I should turn around.
"Even I got embarrassed by some comments about your bum." I flexed my muscles and turned back to face her.
"I heard some."
"You know, I think you hit the DNA jackpot."
"Right back at you, sis."
She padded the bed next to her.
"Come and lie next to me so I can get a closer look."
The part of my brain that usually warned me when something was wrong. Was currently in a different state, if not another time zone.
I lay on the bed within reach of my sister and watched as a tiny drop of pre-cum emerged from my erection.
"God, you do not know how sexy that is. I've never seen a guy wank before."
"Really?"
"OK, a few strokes, but they stop in case they cum."
"If you're there while they do it and naked. Or even a little naked. I can't say I blame them."
"Would you do it for me?"
"Seriously?"
"Please, for me?"
I reached down, and she stopped me.
"Wait, I need to gauge how big it is."
She held her hand out and placed the heel of her hand against my crotch and extended her hand up alongside it. Her fingers touched me for a moment and apologies as I flinched.
"That's about a hand and half, long. And; may I?" I nodded to agree regardless of what she wanted.
Her thumb and middle finger curled around the shaft. Barely touching me, but it still felt like fires of pleasure from her touch. She moved further down the bed to get a closer look at the gap between her fingertips.
"OK, that explains a lot. I'd need a second thumb to get all the way around."
She tried to show, but in doing so moved her other fingers, wanking me a little.
"Sorry, you were supposed to do that."
I replaced her fingers with my hand and stroked myself. Peeling back the foreskin to reveal the nearly purple glans beneath.
"Fuck, that's so sexy. I've no idea why, but seeing that reminds me of aliens exploding from your chest. But in a sexy way."
"I'll have to take your word for that."
"A woman's body doesn't change that much for sex. Stiff nipples and clit. A little puffiness of the labia and that's about it. You have a floppy sausage thing between your legs most of the time. Then you get this! A scary monster that is scarcely good and overriding my brain and overriding my libido."
I was wanking slowly and trying to think of stubbing my toe against the bed legs, or a fat granny on a topless beach.
"Stop." She said, and I froze. "You've got too much pre-cum. Wipe some up and spread it over the head."
I did as she requested and watched the glans glistened. Josie bit her lip.
"Get some more." There was plenty leaking out.
I was about to add more to my skin, when she pulled my hand off and closer to her face.
"I've never really studied it. I mean, I've seen it but..." She leant closer and sniffed it then shivered.
"OK?"
"Yeah, sorry. It's just a very potent smell."
"Bad?" I asked.
"No, it. OK. When I was a girl, cum was icky and gross. Mine or anyone else's. Then I got older, and I accepted it without loving it. When I got married, my mind switched to loving it. Not knowing that I'd be robbed of it after his condition."
She surprised me by lapping the pre-cum off my fingertip.
"Sorry. I shouldn't have done that." She started to shake, and I grabbed her and pulled her into my arms.
"It's ok."
"No it's not. It's fucked up. All I can think about is your dick. I want to suck it, I want to fuck it. I even want you to take my virgin arse. And I know that's terrible on every level. I'm out of control."
As she said that, her hand wrapped around my shaft to wank me.
"Stop." I managed to say. Torn between doing the right thing and supporting my sister and giving into pleasure.
She started to cry, and I slipped off the bed and quickly redressed, then took her into my arms again. Swearing mentally, that I'd missed a chance for sex with the most wonderful girl in the world. But the most wonderful girl in the world was my sister and blood is thicker than water. A rebellious part of my mind asked if it's thicker than cum.
After ten minutes, she pulled herself together and sat up.
"You OK?" I asked.
"No, I'm fucking not!" she snapped.
"What can I do?"
"Do you really want to know?" I nodded. "If you won't let me fuck you, you could at least get me off. If I try to drive home now, I'm likely to kill someone."
I chuckled, then held my hand up to mollify her.
"How about I show you what Bluey taught me? Then you can teach Patrick what I learned. I promise it's worth it."
Josie's reply was to jump up and struggle to tug off her jeans. I pushed her onto the bed and knelt, removed her shoes and then her jeans and panties. She gave me a look that combined nervousness, and lust. Pressing her legs apart, I marvelled at my first true look at her pussy.
The memory of the photos of Claire as I fucked her forced their way into my head. But replaced with the image of my fat dick pressing in there. I shook my head then spent 30 minutes proving Bluey had spent his money wisely. Hiring specialists was a brilliant idea.
Something that my trembling sister finally agreed with after three orgasms.
"Bruce. I think I know why you drive a truck now. It would be too awkward to deal with the thousands of women swarming your house when they know you can do that. Fuck me."
"I wanted to. I want to." I corrected.
Josie hugged me hard. "I know Bruce. I want to. More than anything. Do you think we can hold out for the time you're here?"
"If we're never alone, then probably."
"Want me to blow you?"
I shook my head as my body screamed denial, and she left.
Finding a gym that accepted walk-in people, I worked out with weights. At first impressing the other people, then amazing them as I piled on the weight. I was punishing myself for everything that had happened. It was stupid, but I needed the pain.
It was only after I finished that the cute receptionist slipped me a card for a massage parlour I might like. For a moment, I considered calling Tony and getting Tanya's contact details. But I could only vaguely remember if she was any good or not.
I got a painful massage from a fat Korean guy who would have earned good money with the Stasi. Then headed to my parents. After about a dozen cups of tea, trying to fill 15 years of my life in a single session. Dad had mellowed, or accepted like I did, that moving to Oz was better for me than staying. I got away, to hit a pub.
It was tempting to get wrecked, but I'd not eaten at all. So headed to find a chip shop, hoping it was as good as I remembered as a kid. Finding it shut spoiled my mood, which was soured more, as I found another chippy and found four drunk teenage youths harassing the other customers.
A couple of younger, teenage girls seemed to be the focus of their attention. Cringing at the crude comments and causing an older man to fume, but his wife was holding him back. The first they noticed me was when I placed heavy hands on two of their shoulders.
They were too drunk to take in the full effect as they looked around and up. And I realised I'd made a mistake. Small drunk men stupidly see a big guy and decide to go for it. I got the chance to glance at the guy in charge of the chip shop and gestured to the phone before two of them rushed me.
The fight was short, but not unbloody. I got them outside, and when they produced blades of various forms, I put them down. One had a classic cut-throat razor and the rest parcel knives. A nastier proposition and one I knew how to deal with. It's pretty simple. Violence!
I'm big, but not slow. Although not quick enough to go unscathed. But I figured the ending score was worth it. One puking from a kick in the balls, another unconscious from being introduced to a passenger window with his face at speed. And the last two cracked or broken ribs. I had a shallow cut just above my eyebrow that pissed blood and looked worse than it was.
And two slightly deeper cuts on my forearms. But the pain was burned away by my explosion of activity after what happened with Josie. The police arrived and arrested all five of us and we were taken to A&E to be treated.
Four butterfly stitches for my forehead. Which was a posh way of saying paper sticky things. But 12 old school fashioned stitches to my arms. The cuts weren't deep but long, and unlike my forehead, they needed to be stronger to cope with the movement of my muscles in my forearms.
The doctor who did them apologised, but I just held out my scared and mutilated left hand.
"My legs are worse." I added.
He was just finishing up when a familiar face walked into the cubicle, and I groaned.
"Well, well, well, a familiar face. Mr Byron Bruce Baker. Long-time no see."
"Hello Mr Carter." He'd been the one to arrest me and take me to court and nearly to prison.
"It's Inspector now."
"Congratulations. It couldn't happen to a nicer guy." He looked at me. Expecting ridicule or sarcasm. "I mean it. You were a stand-up guy. Played fair and it wasn't your fault I got off."
He frowned and consulted a piece of paper before going in.
"We've not encountered you for over 15 years, so that means..."
"Australia." I interjected. "I can give you references."
"Actually, I don't think I need to. We saw the shop's CCTV and have witness statements that say you tried to stop them hassling people."
I shrugged as well as I could as the doctor was finishing the last stitch.
"Hold still please?""Why are you home? Not to make trouble?"
"My sister bullied me to attend my parent's 40th. I'm off the rock in about 3 weeks. Satisfied?"
"Sorry, Byron. But when the officer told me a man-mountain beat the snot of four punk kids."
"Doctor, were the other guys brought in have serious injuries?" He scowled and shook his head.
I made a show of moving my free arm to show the muscles. "I think under the circumstances, it probably counts as minimum force. Would you have preferred to let some noob PC try to deal with them?"
He scowled harder.
"OK, Byron, you've nothing to worry about on this, but we'll watch you closely."
I thought that was that, but I'd neglected social media. Having a tiny Asian lady shove a microphone into my face while a black guy videoed me. After a quick check with Tony to check, they weren't connected. He confirmed I was fine, but a rival had used back channels to see if I was a new player. He admitted he was tempted to play him, but confirmed my old but now neutral status.
My parents had a mixed reaction. Mum wanted me to have been safe, while my dad reluctantly congratulated me for protecting people. It was Josie's reaction that was the most extreme. She acted like I nearly died and demanded I meet her husband and my niece and nephew.
Kylie was a little intimidated by me, while Nathan seemed to think I was a climbing frame. Patrick turned out to be a great guy, which left me with complicated and deep thoughts. Neither was my usual ball park. I was a little concerned by Josie's overly intense worry over such minor injuries.
But then I remembered her reaction to my accident. I was kinda wrapped up in my recovery, and my teenage sister's reaction was secondary. As she took every chance to hug me, I worried. But Patrick never knew how we avoided each other as kids.
As we took the kids to zoos and stuff, I grew into Uncle status. Nathan ended up calling me either 'Unky b' or 'uncle BBB'. Kylie had come around and demanded I do a sleepover with her. Which was amusing to be bossed around by a seven-year-old.
I had little experience with kids and worried that my appearance would scare them. But both, once they accepted me, I was family, and that was it. I have to admit I kinda got emotional that I'd not had kids myself. What Patrick and Josie had was special.
Which tore a band aid off our problem. Telling no one, I moved my return date forward by a week. I'd kept it vague in the beginning as I'd no idea of my parent's reaction. When I told the family the date of my return flight, I had a mixed reaction.
Mum was upset, and dad was sad. My nephew and niece tried to talk me out of it. But Josie was silent and distant. We'd resisted temptation, and I felt a sense of relief when my train departed and headed to London. I treated myself to a nice hotel for my last night in the UK, and was surprised that the hotel room rang. It was the reception, saying there was a woman who wanted to come up to meet me. I knew who it was and opened the door to Josie a few minutes later.
She dove into my arms and I lifted her from the ground and spun her around. Like I did when she was small.
"Let me down, Bear. I need to pee."
"What are you doing here?" I asked as she entered the bathroom.
"Just a minute." She replied and shut the door.
Obviously I was pleased to see her, but after weeks of rigid control around her. I wasn't sure I had the strength left to rebuild the walls I'd dropped when the train left my home town. I sat on the bed waiting for her explanation why she was here and heard the toilet flush. But Josie remained in the bathroom a few minutes longer.
When she returned to the bedroom, I knew, and I knew I was lost. She wore a tiny and sexy lingerie set. Nothing needed to be said. We both knew there was no reticence and that we both wanted this. No, we needed this.
She fell into my arms and we kissed. My hands caressed her body while my brain recorded every sense and smell. I needed to burn this permanently into my memory. This was something I never wanted to forget. But Josie was urgent and pushed men off her and knelt. Extracted my dick and treated me to her perfect blow job. Her mouth, soft and warm.
Her tongue, like a snake slowly at first, but gradually as her passions grew she became more aggressive. I warned her when I was getting close, but she showed no signs of wanting to stop. She just slowed down a little. Tormenting me between the need to cum and the desire for it to go on forever. But nothing is forever, and I spewed my seed into her mouth. She struggled to swallow it all.
"I think you needed that. I know I did." She said sitting back on her heels.
"To be honest. Even the idea of masturbating has lost its appeal."
I kissed her and tasted myself, but I didn't care. Pulling her into my arms and removing the remaining clothes. I kissed every inch of her body until I settled my mouth over her pussy. Repeating, and improving on the time in the bedsit, now I knew how her body reacted. I thought about what the sex would be like if we had a few weeks to learn each other's needs.
After 2 orgasms, she pushed me back and pulled me onto the bed and onto my back. Then lay next to me, and threw one arm and leg over me. As if to stop me from getting away. After only a few minutes, she moved her hip and slipped on top of me and slowly impaled herself on my flesh.
Watching her body stretch to accommodate me was amazing. Once fully inside she left forward and used her muscles both inside her pussy and out, to bring us both pleasure. I love a woman on top as it gives me free access to caress her breasts as we made love. At the party it was fucking, here it was making love. Because we had a lifetime of love to feel.
We took our time to savour it, knowing this was our last chance to enjoy this, but it was worth savouring. She moved off her knees without pulling off me and squatted over me. Reminding me of a jockey bouncing above a racehorse's saddle. Only I was the saddle and she was riding my dick. After she climaxed like that, she had me roll on top of me as she wanted to see my face as I pumped my cum into my sister's pussy.
Trying not to crush her, she urged me on. Using her heels behind my thighs to encourage me and spur me on. Not that I needed encouragement. I gave her a warning as I was close and she demanded I fill her with my seed. As I climaxed her eyes rolled up and she climaxed as well.
When we recovered, we showered and ordered room service, and she hid naked in the bathroom as the food was delivered. Although she opened the door to flash me as the guy was setting out the tray. The moment he left she threw herself onto the bed and demanded I fuck her like I had at the party.
Mounting her from behind, now I knew her needs better made the sex so much better and it had been stellar to begin with. After we finished and ate the now cold food, we cuddled and slept. She woke me during the night by grinding her backside against my dick until I was hard enough to take her again. A slow comfortable screw with me entering her from behind and on our sides. Our climaxes were lesser than before, but still pleasurable.
When I woke at first light, I woke to the pleasant sensation of lips on my dick. I wanted to make love again, but she admitted she'd bitten off more than she could chew and she was a little tender. But wanted to blow me one last time.
The orgasm was bittersweet as we knew it was over. She followed me to Heathrow and as I left, she had tears in her eyes, and my eyes weren't dry. The flight was hell, and I barely slept. I took my truck and not my rig out to my land and found the sounds of nature and improvements to the environment calmed the turmoil in my soul.
I loved my sister, but I couldn't be in love with her. She was married and had kids. And surprisingly, it was thinking about her kids that offered an idea that helped me. The idea of kids scared me after my failed marriage. It seemed just too risky. But that idea of doing something for future generations would give me some form or immortality that parents get.
If I developed my land into an eco-tourist location, I could encourage reclamations and leave a legacy for others. It gave me a purpose and a goal other than getting drunk and banging bar chicks. Something that seriously lost its appeal after being with my sister.