The Brother and His Wife
Ted and Jill Mitchell had produced two daughters. Both daughters had married well; in fact, Ted had sold his construction business to his oldest daughter's husband and had taken an early retirement. Their youngest daughter had given them three grandchildren, all girls. That part of their life functioned and gave them much joy, but Ted wondered if he still loved his wife.
Jill had changed from the women he fell in love with so long ago, and the changes had produced a crisis in their marriage. Oh, she was still beautiful; she radiated an elderly loveliness in her face and her soft voice still pleased his ears. They had grown old together. His body drooped like hers, so if her appearance didn't excite him any longer, he felt certain his did little for her. But slow, inevitable deterioration in physical appearance over many years rarely caused loss of love. No, he debated his love for her because he believed she no longer loved him.
The years had altered her attitudes and focus. In the beginning she glanced frequently at him with love-dappled eyes, and he had basked in being the core of her interest. But that time had passed many years before, and still they remained in love with each other. Then came the long middle years, the friendly and polite period, void of any real passion. During this time, she became a friend; he still considered her his best friend - but not a lover. The friendship had been the one factor that allowed the marriage to continue.
Now he even doubted the friendship. Her only passion today was her religion. Her deep involvement in her religion had not sprung full-blown overnight, but rather inexorably developed over a long period. As the years slipped by she had reverted more and more to the religious conditioning of her childhood and the faith taught to her by her parents. Because he could not accept the same beliefs, intimate discussions between them became awkward. Her innermost thoughts involved her belief in her God and the tenets of her faith. She had intermittently tried to convert him to her religion, but he had defensively rejected her attempts. Because he didn't share and would never accept her faith, she excluded him from discussions about the one passion in her life. Conversely, because religious zealots, he knew, would condemn many of his beliefs and attitudes, and because he was uncertain which would be accepted and which would be rejected or condemned by his wife, intimate communication between them had ceased.
With such a marital rift, he no longer approached her to satisfy his sexual needs. Surprisingly at first, she had complained about his lack of sexual interest, but except for the complaints had never tried to initiate any intimate activity with him.
The Sister and her Husband
Fred White was Eve Lathum's second husband. She had not changed her surname to White for business reasons, she claimed. Now she was happy she had resisted her second husband's request to change her name to his.
Her first husband had been the love of her life, and she had fully expected to grow old with him. He had been a giving man and had chosen a profession that satisfied his need to help the less fortunate. But helping the downtrodden didn't pay well. The young husband and wife barely made it from one month to the next on his meager salary as a social worker, but their love and zest for life more than made up for the lack of funds. Then one day when he tried to remove an abused child from her home, the child's father murdered him. He left his young wife emotionally devastated and with two young children to raise by herself. With no time to mourn properly, she scrambled to find work to keep her distressed family together. Drifting from one bad-paying job to another, she finally let a broker talk her into selling homes part time to augment her income. Now she owned her own real estate company.
Her son, the oldest and still single, lived in another city and worked as an attorney for a prominent law firm. Her daughter started graduate studies in literature at an eastern university shortly before the second husband had planted himself in her life. Eve had been looking for love, believed she had found it, but the blush on the bride quickly turned pale as she ferreted out previously hidden traits in the man she had married. He was a neat freak and downright stingy. At first the sex had been good, but had diminished both in frequency and quality. He professed to love her, told her frequently that he adored her, but she soon realized the declarations were lip service. She knew he had already been unfaithful at least once and suspected he jumped the fence at every opportunity. She told him the marriage was over, and while he found a new place to live and remove his belongings from her home, she planned to visit her brother. It had been years since brother and sister had spent any time with each other, but with the exception of her children, Eve's brother was the only person she loved.
I hope he's waiting at the gate, Eve thought as she struggled with her luggage, finally yanking it from the overhead compartment. She had last seen her brother three years before when he had visited her for her fifty-fifth birthday. That makes him sixty now, she considered. My god, we're getting old.
As she exited the gate she spied Ted's grin spread across a rugged face; the broad smile took years off his age. He's still a hunk, she thought, as he took her in his arms and hugged her.
"You're a sight for sore eyes, pretty sister," he said still holding her. "You don't know happy you made me when you called and told me about this visit."
His eyes did appear as if he appreciated what he saw; they sparkled with pleasure but also radiated a sultry look, one that proclaimed, "I want you." He had often given her that look, and Eve was pleased to see it again. She wiggled in his embrace, enjoyed the feel of him flat against her from chest to knees. Too bad he's married and my brother, she thought. But then, Ted has always turned me on. Without the incest taboo, I'd have tripped him so he fell between my legs when we were teenagers.
"I'm happy to see you, Ted, but I'm not happy," she said "My marriage is a mess. How's Jill, your children and grandchildren?"
"I'm sorry about your marriage, Eve. I know a divorce is traumatic at best. I've watched quite a few friends go through the messy process. Just know I'm here for you. As for my family, everyone is hale and hearty. Jill would be here, but she had some all-day meeting at the church she couldn't get out of. My youngest granddaughter, Ellen, is three now and reminds me of you when you were her age. She's an imp and a big flirt. Her granddaddy doesn't have a chance. She has me wrapped around her little finger, like you did then - still do if I were to admit it, which I won't."
Eve wiggled again, flirting unconsciously and pleased by his comments. She felt the press of the beginnings of an erection against her and then felt her brother back away slightly.
He's blushing, the old goat is actually blushing, Eve thought. Time to tease, she decided. She pulled her hands from his shoulders and encircled his neck as she buzzed him with a kiss, not a passionate one, but certainly not sisterly. The erection blossomed a little more, and Eve wiggled against it.
"Jill must not be taking care of you properly, big brother," she said with an impish grin.
Instead of more blushing, a scowl crossed his face. "Jill and I haven't made love for over a year, Eve." Abruptly his mood changed and he smiled. "Leave it to my bawdy sister to ignite my hibernating libido. You're still the biggest tease I know. Let's go; I'll carry this bag, and undoubtedly, we'll need a skycap for the rest of your luggage."
Ted set the last of her luggage on the bed in the guest room. "There you go. Are you hungry? Need to rest from the flight? Thirsty? What? Your wish is my command, pretty one," he said.
"I sat next to a fat lady doused with perfume on the flight. If you don't mind, I'll take a shower to wash away her scent, and then change into some casual clothes."
"Okay, I'll be down working."
"Oh, I thought you retired."
"I did, but I watch the stock markets and make frequent adjustments to my portfolio. I fired my broker; it's easier and more profitable to do my own trading online. Also I've started to write again. It's too late in life to make writing a career, but still I enjoy it. I have managed to have some stories published, though only on the Internet, not in the print media. I was even paid real money for the effort."
"I'm pleased, really happy you're writing again, Ted. You've always had a talent as a wordsmith. Let me shower, and then the first thing I want to do is read one of your stories. What's the genre?"
Ted hesitated. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell someone. Perhaps...
"Erotic fiction. Eve, you're the first person I've told. It's not that I'm ashamed of what I write, but Jill wouldn't understand. She'd consider it pornography and think I had lost my mind. If..."
"Marvelous! My big brother is a dirty old man," she said giggling. "Well, I love erotica. My first husband and I used to read the Penthouse Letters in bed together, and then fuck like bunnies. While I'm showering, you pick out a story. Now leave me, so I can wash that fat lady's stink away."
Well, that takes care of my worry that my stories would embarrass Eve, and in the process embarrass me, Ted thought as he started his computer. She was tickled with herself when she gave he a hardon at the airport. She's always been pleased when she aroused me. In our early teens, I remember, she'd purposefully run around the house in bra and panties and then giggle and wiggle and squirm and rub up against me until a bulge appeared in my pants. If I had not been her brother, I'd have flipped her onto her back on my bed and fucked her. That would have stopped her teasing, but she was my sister, and she knew I wouldn't jump her, so she teased and flirted and practiced her feminine wiles on me before applying them to the boys she dated. She was a round-heeled hussy too, delightfully so - not slutty, after she started fucking.
He scrolled through the files that held his stories and debated which to present her, but the debate was fraudulent, he knew. Before he started searching, he had already made up his mind which story he wanted her to read. Coincidently, it was also the first to be published. He clicked on the title, and when it opened, started to send the document to his printer. No, he told himself. It's too long, and I don't want a hard copy hanging around that Jill could find. I'll put Eve in front of the computer and let her read it from the monitor.
He chuckled. She's teased me to the point of exasperation; maybe I'll get even when she reads this story. With a click of the mouse, he sent the story to the task bar, and pulled up his browser to surf the Internet until his sister finished her shower.
I don't know why I'm such a tease when it comes to Ted, she thought. I know it's not nice, but I can't seem to stop myself. It's a habit, no doubt. And I'm too old to learn new tricks. She looked in the mirror and grimaced. Old! No wonder Fred ran around on me, though I'm more attractive than the sluts I suspect he fucked - all of them. My tits are still okay. That's one benefit to perky tits; they age well. My waist has thickened, my hips have broadened and gravity is winning in the ass department. Still, not too bad for my age. I hate getting old! Just hate it!
What to wear, she asked herself as she slipped into panties. She set out a pair of shorts and a blouse and reached for a fresh bra. No, no bra, she decided and tweaked her nipples. That's better, she thought after she had donned the blouse. The no-bra look increases the tease factor. She wiggled into the shorts and checked out her ass and long legs in the closet door mirror. My legs are still my best feature, she thought as she quickly ran a brush through her hair. She liked her short hairstyle. Easy to care for, it curled around and framed her face, and the auburn coloring nearly matched the natural color of her youth before gray had taken over. A little lipstick and it was time for show and tease. She padded down the stairs barefoot. Red toenails matched the red on her fingers and at her lips.
"Casual but sexy," Ted said with a look of approval as she turned at the landing. "I'm having an iced tea. What can I get you?"
He poured tea over ice in two tall glasses. "Unless you've changed your mind, the story is on the computer in my den. Do you mind reading from a monitor?"
"Not at all, and I'm still eager to read your stories, Ted. Lead the way."
He sat her in front of the computer, reached over her, slid the mouse to the task bar and clicked on the story. It rose on the screen.
"The Tease by Adam Johnson," Eve read aloud. "Who is Adam...oh, I guess an alias is necessary when you write erotica." She glanced back and up at him and caught him looking down her blouse. She grinned, happy she had decided to leave off her bra. "Like what you see, big boy?" she asked giggling.
"Yes, I've always liked what I saw when I looked at you, little sister. I'll leave you with the story. Holler if you need anything. I'll be in the living room."