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."
.... There is more of this story ...