I sat in disbelief at what my brother was telling me. David actually wanted me to have sex with his wife!
His voice cut through my bewilderment. "We've been trying to make a baby for the last six years man, and when we got the tests back last week, it really knocked the wind out of my sails."
I looked at his face and watched the tears build up in his eyes.
"I'll go get you another drink." I said, glad of the excuse to leave him alone with his pain.
I inched my way out of the dark booth and went to the bar. "Two double whiskies, lots of ice and a can of Coke please." The bartender's funny look didn't intrude on my thoughts; my brother wanted me to have sex with his wife!
I carried the drinks back to the table, and slid into the booth. The high decorated sides kept us secluded from the rest of the quiet bar. It was four in the afternoon, well before the evening rush.
David poured some Coke into his glass and took a large swig. He winced at the strength of the whisky.
"Doubles?" David asked.
"Yup." I replied simply. I waited for him to continue, but he just kept staring at the ice in the glass.
"The tests?" I asked, trying to regain his train of thought.
He swallowed, then took a deep breath. "The tests." He lifted the glass to the light, as if he was trying to see how clean it was. He looked at me. "The tests say that I've got a very low sperm count; very low." Even in the dim light of the bar, I could still see the tears growing in his eyes again. "In fact, Jack, if sperm was gunpowder, I wouldn't have enough to blow my nose."
I forced a smile at his intended humour. "Can't it be Helen?"
"Naw, Helen's fine." He replied. "She's got all her parts working. It seems that it's just me that can't provide her with the baby she wants."
"Come on Dave..."
"No!" he snapped. "I've got to face it Jack. I've got to come to terms with the whole thing."
I sat and looked at him. David Grant, two years younger, more successful, richer than I would ever be, but here, in the bar, he would have thrown all that away, just in exchange for my sperm count. It was irony come home to roost and it was not lost on me.
I had two ex-wives with two children to each of them. I had child support payments that were taking over half of my income, and here was my successful brother wanting a loan of my dick for a night.
"So why me Dave?" I asked. "Why has it got to be me for this?" As I said the words, I couldn't believe that I was trying to talk myself out of it. After all, Helen was a good looking lady!
"I want it to be a proper 'Grant'."
Dave took another heavy mouthful. "Come on Jack, you know how Dad feels about keeping the clan name going!"
"What's that got to do with it?" I thought of Dad's almost maniacal fascination with tracing his name back to Scotland. He even referred to it as 'the old country', even though the family had been American for over four generations.
"You've got four daughters Jack, the name "Grant" will die when they get married. Dad's often said that it was 'up to me to keep the clan name going'."
"How the hell is he going to know? Who's going to tell him?"
"I just want there to be no problems if he does find out. That's all."
I sat in the booth, sipping gently at my whisky, trying to get to grips with the idea that my brother was offering me his wife, and I was trying my hardest to get out of it. "Can we not do it by sperm donation? I could go down to the local clinic and just give some over!"
"Well bro, it's not as simple as that. If it was we'd have done it long ago." He finished his drink, letting the ice rest on his lips. "Helen was diagnosed as having a thin or fragile 'something or other' two months ago. She had an abortion when she was eighteen, long before we met, and they put the blame on that. The doctors have decided that artificial insemination is not an option; it might do more damage."
He got up and inched his way out of the booth. "Same again?"
"Yeah, why not."
As I watched him walk to the bar, I though of Helen. She was only thirty, a good looking brunette, and she had nice figure. She carried a bit more weight than some, but she was curvy in all the right places. I had watched her at family parties since the day she and Dave had got married, and here was I with a chance to get to bed with her. Wasn't life strange.
I finished my whisky as Dave came back with two more.
"So you're set on this then?" I asked.
"If you are." He replied. "Helen is already agreed, and it just takes you to seal the pact."
I took a deep drink from the glass and tried to keep the smug smile from my face. With a sincerity that a saint would have been proud of, I turned to my brother.
"Ok, I'm willing."
There were no smiles, no great shaking of hands, no patting each other on the back wishing each other 'good fortune' in our new venture. David just sank this drink in one go. "Right Jack, we'll be in touch with the details. Keep the afternoons of the 12th, 13th and 14th free."
Before I knew, he was out of his seat and leaving the booth. "Best time for fertility!" he said as he walked away. As he opened the door and walked outside, I was sure that I seen tears streaming down his face.
It was two days later that I got the letter. I recognised Helen's handwriting on the envelope, and the letter inside was in the same pen. As I read the neat script, it became clear that my brother had done his part; he had recruited the subject. The actual arrangements had obviously been passed onto Helen.
"Dear Jack, I thank you for doing this for us. This is how it HAS to go from here. You will arrive at our house at 2.00pm on the 12th, 13th, and 14th. These are days of my ovulation. You will go to the guest room where I will be laying on the bed. You will have sex with me and leave. You will say nothing. I will say nothing. You will do nothing apart from plain ordinary sex. Any alterations to the above will be on a sheet of paper on the stairs. Thank you again. Helen."
There it was, and as I read it again, I realised how cold the words were, and how distant I felt about the whole thing. I was to 'have sex' with her on the guest bed 'and leave'.
"It might not be a bad thing." I said as I propped the letter up on the fireplace. "Best to keep contact to a minimum. I'll make sure that she gets 'plain ordinary sex'."
I looked at my business diary and marked the respective afternoons as 'sales calls', then checked the previous three days. Nothing of any note was planned, so I marked 'sauna' in the morning of the 12th, 13th and 14th. I might as well be clean when I screw my sister in law! Then, putting it as far to the back of my mind as I could, I got on with my evening.
When the 12th arrived, I did my sales calls in the early morning, and went to the local health club for a sauna.
Feeling clean in every pore, I walked up the steps to Dave and Helen's door at 2.00pm precisely. Resisting the urge to knock, I opened the door quietly and let myself in. The house was absolutely quiet. I walked across to the bottom of the stairs, and there, sure enough was a white piece of paper.
"Strip here, and come up to the guest bedroom. Remember; no talking, nothing other than just sex. Helen."
It felt weird to strip my clothes in the middle of my brother's house and the silence in the house made it even worse, but I laid them neatly over the handrail with my pants and socks on top. My penis began to stiffen in anticipation, but did not become fully erect, probably because of the abnormality of the situation. I remember wondering if this was some form of joke, and the family would jump out at me saying "Surprise Party!", but of course nothing like that happened. I walked quietly up the carpeted staircase to the upstairs hallway. All the doors were closed, except the one to the guest room. I had slept there a couple of times, once with my last wife. My penis was now almost at full strength, standing out in front of my like a homing device.
Not knowing what to expect I gingerly edged round the doorway and gradually the room came into view. The curtains had been closed, but the afternoon sun still bathed the room. Then I saw the figure on the bed.
There was a woman lying on the unmade bed with her legs open, but that was all I could make out. She had wrapped a sheet around herself from the bottom of her breasts, up over her head, and was obviously holding on to the sheet tightly. As I moved closer I could make out the sheet shifting as she breathed, it was the only sign of movement.
I stepped to the bottom of the bed, and although the scene was bizarre, it was also very erotic. There in front of me was Helen, my sister-in-law. Her flat childless stomach stretched down from the tightly wrapped sheet, and her shapely legs were open, but most interesting was the view I had of her beautiful cunt. The inside of her slit was very pink in relation to the dark brown hair around it, and I had a perfect view.
Then suddenly, I was stymied. Did I mount her as she was? What happened if I did, and she was unlubricated? Did I touch her and break the promise about 'only ordinary sex'? Was touching allowed?
Weighing all these doubts, I quickly decided just to mount her, and if she was not wet enough, then I would take things from there.
I climbed onto the bed, and positioned myself above her, as my thighs touched hers, she opened them more to accommodate me. Then I held my cock against her slit and pushed forward. No progress. I slid it further down, lowering myself as I did so, and encountered her warm interior. Warm, wet and ready.
.... There is more of this story ...