My parents, Joseph and Ellen Gerard, had two children: a daughter, Karen, and eighteen months later a son, me, Trevor. Being near together in age, Karen and I have always been quite close. It was only when our schooling finished that we started to lead more independent lives. Karen was clever and chose to take a BA degree in Media and Communication at Leicester University, which was just under forty miles from our family home in Northamptonshire. When it came to my turn to do a degree I opted for the four-year MEng Electronic Engineering course at Essex University in Colchester, some hundred plus miles away by road.

While my big sister was at Leicester she met fellow student Graham Harmer and a year after graduating they married, a few days after her 23^rd birthday. It was actually quite a strange wedding, inasmuch as there wasn’t really anyone there from Graham’s family; Karen said that she had never been introduced to his parents and he never talked about them. I was just finishing my second year at university at the time.

Life resumed, and for the next couple of years Karen and Graham lived and worked near their home in Market Harborough, while I was now working in Chelmsford where I rented a flat. I didn’t see Karen that often and we stayed in touch mainly by email, with the odd face-to-face meeting at family functions. It was a Saturday morning in late May when I received an unexpected email from my sister:

{block}Hi, Little Brother! Can you get some time off work starting two weeks from today? Graham and I booked a holiday for then, but I’ve just been informed that he has to work. As you can imagine, I wasn’t best pleased, but it was his idea to ask you, and he said he’ll make it up to me later. It’s paid for, so you just need a passport. So, let me know asap. Karen xxx{/block}

Well, I was a single guy in my mid-twenties and the idea of lying on a beach and ogling a bevy of beach beauties didn’t sound too bad, so I replied straight away that I was due some time off and I’d ask on Monday when I got to work. So that’s how I found myself meeting up with Karen at my flat on the Friday evening before we were due to fly out to Menorca from Gatwick Airport the next day.

Gatwick wasn’t too bad for me, but Karen was over a hundred miles away, so it was easier for her to come to me first and we could travel together. We could get from Chelmsford to Gatwick by train in about an hour and forty minutes, which wasn’t bad, but we would have to change twice to do so, but we told ourselves that it was all part of the adventure.

When Karen arrived on Friday we hugged and kissed. Karen was 26 at the time, although she looks younger, and is what I’d call very pretty—I think a bit like Zooey Deschanel—and an average size woman. Until she left to go to university, we went to the same school and for most of that time there was no shortage of my male friends who would come to our house and not surprisingly this number increased in the summer months when my sister and some of her female friends used to hang out and sunbathe in our garden in their bikinis!

She’s a brunette whose long hair comes almost down to her waist, and she is about 5’ 5” compared to my fair-hair and 5’ 10” height, and she looks after herself, fitness-wise. I had a girlfriend once who was 34-26-35 and she was about the same size as my sister. Karen always says that she’d like bigger boobs—not monsters, just a bit more up front. However, they seem perfectly okay to me and I assume that Graham shares my feeling on this. I’m not over-muscled, but I play tennis and squash regularly so I think that I’m quite toned and fit. Although we are brother and sister, maybe only someone like my mother would claim they can see a strong resemblance.

We’d both eaten that day, so I made sandwiches which we washed down with tea and coffee. We spent most of the evening catching up about our lives and it was just after 11:30 when we decided that an early-ish night was in order. I only have a one-bedroom flat so I volunteered to take the sofa—Karen’s response was: ‘Don’t be so bloody silly; we’re going to be seeing lots of each other during the next week, so let’s start as we mean to go on!’ Logical, I suppose, and we did use to share a bedroom for a while and saw each other naked as kids, although we certainly aren’t that anymore! As it was late we both decided to shower in the morning, so it was just teeth cleaning before bed. As I was coming back into the room from the bathroom she had her case open on the bed and was looking for something; I’m not sure what, as my eyes were fixed on her naked body.

“You’ve got one of those travel cases on wheels, haven’t you, Trev; perhaps we can get all of our clothes and things into that instead of taking two.”

“Er, yes, probably, I don’t plan on taking much for a week, mostly casual.”

“Mmm, that’s what I was thinking—we’ll sort it out in the morning. Which side do you want?”

“Sorry?” She grinned: “Which side do you sleep on, silly?”

“Oh, I’m not bothered!”

“Okay then, Bro, get your kit off and let’s get some sleep.”

Karen moved her case and then got into bed. I sat on the other side and took off my socks and shoes before undressing. I had intended keeping my boxer shorts on in bed, but as Karen had stripped off completely I thought there wasn’t much point playing the modesty card. Karen giggled.

“You definitely never had that when we were kids, Trev! Goodnight, Love!”

“Yeah, goodnight, Karen.”

I don’t always wake up with an erection, but under the circumstances I’d slept on my side and facing away from Karen. I have to admit that it took me a little while to remember whose body was spooning me and whose arm was draped over my side. I’d been without a regular girlfriend for some time and I admitted to myself that it was a nice feeling.

“I hope you don’t mind, Trev, but I’m used to sleeping with my fella and you are a nice substitute; he’s a bit fleshier than you, though. What’s the time—is it time to get up?”

“You’ve got a bit longer, but as I’m awake I might as well have my shower.”

“Hmm, I’m tempted, but if you’re getting up I might as well, too. I’d share, but your shower isn’t really big enough to double up. Why don’t you shave while I’m in there?”

We both got up and padded along the corridor and into the bathroom, oblivious to our lack of clothing; it felt so natural that I almost forgot that Karen was my sister. Whoever designed the flat’s compact bathroom arranged the toilet, wash basin and the bath’s tap end along one wall and in that order; this meant that as I shaved using the mirror over the basin, Karen was nearby showering on my right. It’s a good job I use an electric razor, otherwise I might have been distracted enough to badly cut myself!

“Can you do my back, Trev?” Karen turned her back on the water jet and soaped her front, then turned to rinse her front while I soaped her back.

“You might as well do my bum and legs while I’m washing my hair, Love.” I suppose this was something that Graham did, but I wonder if Karen knew the effect that it was having on me.

As I soaped her calf and worked my way up her thigh, Karen even lifted her left foot up onto the edge of the bath to give me access to the inside edge of her bum cheeks and she giggled as I slid my hand between them. As I quickly washed her bum hole I desperately wanted to slide further round onto and between her hairless labia, but I resisted the temptation. With her hair done I resumed shaving—all the time aware that my very attractive sister was perched on the side of the bath, legs apart, and shaving her pubic area. I think like a lot of guys who have watched a woman do this, I was fascinated whenever a girlfriend did it; although there was something not quite right about watching your sister! By the time I’d finished my shave, Karen was rinsing the bath clean.

“Do you need a hand, Little Brother?” Karen asked with a grin as I stepped into the bath. I shook my head:

“No, I’m good! Why don’t you get dressed, I’ll be out of here in a little while.” How I managed to stay unaroused I’ll never know!

We breakfasted on cereal, to use up the last of the milk, then while I bustled about with last minute things, Karen packed my clothes and hers into my case. That done, it was more or less time to leave for the airport. It was less than a mile from my flat to the station, and part of that through a public park, so a fairly leisurely walk of twenty-minutes or so and we were there. There is no need to detail the journey into London and then the train changes that eventually saw us checking in for our flight to Menorca. Once we’d taken off, two hours and a few minutes later and we were landing in Mahon where, along with the other tour package holiday-makers, we were bussed to our resort accommodation.

It was now early June and the temperature on the island was a comfortable mid-20ºC, i.e. edging towards the high 77ºF, compared to the average 16ºC/63ºF at home. The main difference was that it was pretty much guaranteed in the Balearic Islands, whereas British weather is never guaranteed. I don’t know about Karen, but after getting up early and then all that travel I was pretty beat. All I wanted to do was take off my travelling clothes and stretch out on the bed, which I did. Even Karen who was wearing a lightweight summer dress discarded it and we were soon dozing in the sultry Spanish heat.

I’d been sleeping lying on my back, and once again I woke up to find Karen cuddled up against me; in fact lying partly on me, with her head on my shoulder and her arm across my chest.

“Trevor, Love, we need to talk.”

“Sure,” I said, not really wide awake, “What do you want to talk about?”

“Well, Graham and I have been trying for a baby ever since we got married. He’s got a good job, so we figured we wouldn’t wait too long.” I was still drowsy, but I was listening.

“Anyway, as nothing was happening, we decided to get tested, and apparently I’m fine but Graham has a low sperm count. It’s not impossible that he can father a baby, but the odds are pretty poor.” I was finally beginning to regain full-consciousness.

“I’m really sorry to hear that, Sis—so what are you going to do: IVF, or something?”

“Well, we thought about it and Graham thinks we should just keep trying for a bit longer, but I favour the ‘or something’ approach. Basically, I’ve come away to get pregnant, Trevor.” That sure woke me up.

“You mean that while you’re here you’re going to let strange guys try to knock you up! How are you going to get that one past your husband?”

“I never said that, Trev: I could never do that to Graham. No, I want you to do it, Love! I know it’s unconventional, but who better to father my child than someone I love and know I can trust. I don’t want to cheat on Graham with someone I picked up for casual sex—I want you, Trevor. I’ve been watching you since I arrived at your place yesterday; you can’t deny that you find me attractive, can you?” I was still in shock.

“Well, no—I’ve always been proud to tell people that the pretty woman is my sister, and I admit that you turn me on; but still—”

“—Still what, Trev?” Her hand was now sliding down my front towards—

“Whoa, Karen! You’ve got to give me a chance to get used to this!” She chuckled.

“That means you’re thinking about it, right?” What could I say: how could I deny it when there was definite activity on the erection front.

“Yes, okay, I admit I’m thinking about it, but I’m still worried about Graham; he’s my brother-in-law and I like him.”

“Okay, fair enough. Look, I told Graham that last week was my most fertile time during my cycle. He knows my periods are pretty regular, but not about them in any detail. As he has a low sperm count, we just increase the frequency of sex when I tell him to, but we have sex quite a lot anyway. Actually, though, this week is my optimum time. Next week when we get home Graham and I will probably go at it like bunnies again, but hopefully by that time you will have impregnated me. It’s not an exact science anyway, so there will always be an element of luck involved. I am, of course, assuming that your little swimmers are healthy. There is also the fact that, coincidentally, Graham has the same colour hair and eyes as you.” I still had doubts, but it looked like Karen had covered all the angles.

“All right, I’ll do it—is this just going to be a mechanical process: you know, put it in, come, take it out?”

“Certainly not! My baby will be conceived as an act of love, so we will make love just like anyone else would do. There is actually some evidence that it helps conception if both parties treat it that way.”

“Fine! So, when?” Karen grinned and climbed on top of me.

“Let’s see how good you are at kissing first, Little Brother.”

Phew, Karen was hot! I wasn’t counting, but I don’t think I’ve ever got that turned on as much just by kissing. When we stopped she just looked at me and grinned: “When did you learn how to do that, Little Bro? Sodding hell, my lips are still tingling, not to mention other parts of me! And from what I’ve been feeling pressing into my belly, I’m really going to enjoy this week! Are you ready to go, I know I am?”

“Er, are you sure that you don’t need me to warm you up a bit more—I actually quite like that part.” Karen laughed.

“Oh, go on, then!” She shuffled up the bed, while I manoeuvred myself down between her thighs.

“Tell me what you like, Sis; you know your own body best.”

“Well, actually, Graham’s never been very keen on going down on me, and when he has, he doesn’t put much—Holy shit! Oh fuck, yes—that’s awesome!”

I learned that lesson quite early in my teens and I had a very good teacher. It’s one thing that most women I’ve known really appreciate, and my sweet sister was no exception. It’s not always easy to tell when you’ve got your face down there, but the way that Karen was moving, the sounds she was making, and the way her hands held my head all suggested that I was getting the job done. She sighed and relaxed.

“Mmmm! You’ve got a real talent for that, Trevor! Let me stick a pillow under my bum, then you can show me some more of your tricks.”

I was so hard that my balls were beginning to ache. When Karen was comfortable I climbed up over her and she put her arms around my neck and pulled me onto her eager mouth. The kiss over, I positioned myself ready for penetration. Karen looked at me like a lover rather than a sister.

“Does this still feel weird?” I smiled: “No, funnily enough it seems very natural.” She kissed me again.

“Mmm, I was thinking that, too. I’m ready when you are.”

I pushed forward and slowly slid into her slippery softness: I don’t think I’ve ever got used to the feeling of entering a woman for the first time and Karen felt every bit as good as anything that I’d experienced previously.

“Mmmm, that feels pretty wonderful, too! Now fill me up with your baby juice, please!”

No graphic details, I’m afraid; to be honest, I was concentrating so hard on giving Karen a good time that I forgot to take notes! However, I think it’s fair to say that no one was disappointed with the outcome.

Karen was lying under me in a position that didn’t seem very comfortable, but she was practically purring. I think she would have kept me like it indefinitely, but my arms were giving out. I was careful not to move her too much as I moved off of her, while she kept her pelvis elevated so little of my ejaculate escaped. I lay beside her and we kissed without speaking, then I drifted off to sleep.

When I awoke Karen was gone from beside me. I was still yawning and stretching when she reappeared, now wearing just her knickers:

“Did you have a nice sleep, Trev? Shall we go for a walk, I’m famished!”

Without thinking, I held my hand against my nose and inhaled her aroma. I heard Karen giggle: “Don’t worry, Lover, there’s plenty more of that to come!”

I walked into the bathroom and splashed water onto my face to wake me up then I had a pee before getting my cargo shorts out of the case, together with a fresh T-shirt. Karen was also now wearing a pair of short-shorts and a tank top, although she didn’t bother with a bra. After a liberal application of sunblock to our exposed areas of skin, we locked the door and went in search of somewhere to eat. It also seemed perfectly natural that Karen should hold my hand as we walked, as we had as children.

There were eating places in the resort but we decided to venture into the nearest town, where we found several small cafés. The food was good and cheap and we washed it down with cold Spanish beer. In hot countries there is a lot more activity as the sun begins to set and we continued to explore. All of a sudden Karen tugged on my hand and led me into what I thought was a shop, but which was actually a hairdressers. There was a young woman in there and Karen lifted a few strands of her hair and made the scissors cutting gesture with her fingers, then she pointed to me: “Like that, por favor!” I have worn my hair closely cropped for several years. The young woman smiled: “Sí, señora!” Karen took the barber’s chair while I sat in the waiting area.

“You know I always fancied going blonde, but I’m not sure how Graham would take to that,” she said to me. The woman took an electric clipper and Karen’s long red-brown locks were soon decorating the linoleum flooring. I know from experience that it’s a quick job, and as Karen’s hair was already clean it just required a few stray hairs clearing away. I thought she looked sensational and very sexy! Karen opened her purse and looked at the woman. “Siete euro, por favor,” the hairdresser said, also holding up seven fingers. Karen smiled and gave her a ten euro note: “Gracias!” The woman smiled and nodded.

Not surprisingly, as we continued our walk through the town Karen attracted a look of looks, from both sexes; mostly smiles. We stopped for another couple of beers before making our way back to our apartment.

“Have you got anything left in here?” Karen asked, while running her hand over my crotch. I grinned: “I could probably manage another one!” Karen laughed and within seconds our clothes were being shed in double-quick time. Once again we took our time delivering another payload into Karen’s cargo bay, after which we slipped into oblivion, wrapped in each other’s arms.

We attempted to top up Karen’s womb again the next morning before getting out of bed. We were going to eat something then check out the nearby beach. After showering we headed for one of the in-resort restaurants where we had breakfast. While there we picked up some bottled water for later. As it was a family-oriented resort, lots of women went topless but they kept their lower half covered. Well, technically they were covered, but in reality most, including Karen, just had a few square inches of material in a strategic area. A lot of guys wore Speedos, but I’ve never liked them, so I wore shorts-type bathers.

So, basically, we just spent a good part of the day lying in the sun or swimming in the sea, after each swim slathering ourselves with more sunblock. Karen had a darker complexion than mine and having fair hair I had to cover up more, so as not to burn. We got talking to a few people and were told that the further we got from the resort, the less families there were, so although still not technically allowed, nude bathing and swimming was tolerated. Karen and I had both been to clothing optional beaches before, so we agreed we’d give it a try, sometime.

And that, essentially, was the way the whole week went: a combination of sand, sea and sex; some would say the perfect holiday. On our last evening before flying home the next day, we lay in bed, talking:

“Mission accomplished, Sis?”

“I hope so. Some women claim that they know the exact moment when they conceive; I can’t say that, but I’m hopeful. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part, because I’ve been trying for so long, but on the other hand, if I’m not, I think I’d like to keep trying with you Trevor. You really are a great lover and I hope that sex with my husband doesn’t seem like I’ve traded a Rolls-Royce for an old banger after you! Maybe I can teach him how to use his mouth and what he’s got, better!”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t try too hard if I was you, Sis.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what’s he going to think if you go home and want him to start doing things that he hasn’t been used to doing?” Karen gave a little gasp:

“Oh, my god, yes! I see what you mean; he’ll wonder what I’ve been doing this week. I guess I’ll just have to be a bit more devious!” she said with a grin. “But, anyway, you’ve still got time to use your talents on me a few more times before then, haven’t you.” Well, she was my sister, so how could I refuse!

The trouble with package holiday companies is that they get the best deals from airlines if they use the quiet, unpopular flight times, so although we had to vacate our apartment by noon, we wouldn’t be taking off for several hours so we had time to kill. However, we got back to Gatwick in time to make all our connections back to Chelmsford. We’d eaten before we left Menorca, so all we had to do was flop into bed together for the last time: we were so tired that all we wanted to do was sleep, although I held Karen in my arms as we did so. We had already decided that we needed to wean ourselves off each other, so we didn’t even have sex the next morning.

It was an almost 200-mile round trip, but I volunteered to drive Karen home. The journey was a little strained, but we knew that we had to return to our normal lives as soon as possible. Graham was already there when we arrived and I stayed and ate with them before I left for the return journey home. He was eager to know how we’d spent our time—of course, what he got was a version of the truth, although he seemed glad that Karen had rarely been out of my sight the whole time we were away. I did have to ham up the fact that I was going to have to get used to sleeping in a bed again, after having spent all those nights on the holiday apartment’s sofa! It was a little strange seeing Karen and Graham with their arms around each others waists as they waved me goodbye.

We soon slipped back into our old routines and I thought that maybe I would try and get back into the dating scene, but although I met a couple of nice women, my heart wasn’t really in it. For the next couple of months I wondered if I’d hear any news from Karen, telling me either that she was pregnant or she’d started her periods since we’d been back. I was sitting at home one evening when I got the call:

“Hi, Little Brother! Just thought that I’d let you know that you’re going to be an uncle, at last!”

“Wow, that’s brilliant news! I bet Graham’s over the moon—have you told Mum yet?”

“Yes and yes. I was pretty sure last month, but I waited until I missed my second period to take the test. The doctor confirmed it today and you’re the third person I’ve told, after mt husband and the soon-to-be granny. He hasn’t stopped smiling and Mum was in tears on the phone. Graham’s here now; he’s been a bit, you know, over-protective, but I suppose that’s natural, under the circumstances. Well, Trev, I’ve got a few more calls to make, so I’ll ring off now. Love you, Little Brother!”

I put the phone down and got myself a celebratory beer. It was an odd situation to be in: was Karen pregnant with my baby, or had she and Graham actually beaten the odds and it was his? I guess that the only way that I’d know for sure was if they did a DNA test and there was no reason for that to happen under normal circumstances. All I did know was that I was really missing my sister’s company—in and out of bed—but another part of me was still really happy for the both of them. A few more beers and I took myself off to bed.

It was another few months until fate dealt me another unexpected hand: the company I worked for asked me to move, temporarily initially, to their sister company in the Czech Republic. I couldn’t think of a reason not to go, so I started making plans. The contract was for two years, so I gave notice on my rented flat. I told my mum and dad, of course, who naturally wondered whether they’d see me during that time. Mum then got straight onto the phone to tell Karen, who was then about half-way through her pregnancy. Karen then rang me and we went over most of the ground I’d covered with Mum. We also talked about the baby, but apart from a few ambiguous references, we never discussed anything that happened in Menorca. I promised to keep her up to date with my news, as did she. It was a few weeks later when for the first time I flew out of Heathrow for the two-hour flight to Ruzyne Airport, Prague.

Although it’s in Eastern Europe, and perhaps because it borders Germany, the Czech Republic is considered to be the former Eastern Bloc country most like its Western European neighbours and it is now a regular destination for Brits seeking something a little different, vacation-wise. As a consequence, although I spoke no Czech there were many, especially young, people who were quite proficient in English and I had a ready supply of interpreters who were also happy to introduce me to their country. My main job there was to help the company modernise all of its systems and processes to bring them into line with its British counterpart, and also to oversee the specialist training of its operatives, wherever appropriate.

During my stay I was provided with a nice apartment in the capital, together with a nice new Mercedes E-Class saloon for personal and business use. Overall I found the natives to be friendly and accommodating, and female companionship was never a problem, should I desire it. I’m considered not too bad looking, and I suppose a young man in his mid-twenties who holds a quite important position is seen as quite desirable. Under different circumstances I might have made better use of my opportunities, but something always held me back somehow and I knew exactly what, or should I say who, that was. There was barely a day went by when I didn’t think of Karen, who was now nearly 900 miles away. We had the Internet, though, and every time I saw her ever-increasingly swollen belly I longed for home a little more.

Bethany Jane was born in the middle of March: almost nine months to the day since Karen and I arrived in Menorca. Still inconclusive proof of my paternity, I know, but it gave me something to cling on to. For good or otherwise, little Bethany had brown hair and dark eyes like her mother, which at least would give no-one cause to question her parentage. I was entitled to fly home every month or so, courtesy of my employers, but I decided to wait until the summer when my ‘niece’ would be three or four months old. Meanwhile I was content to see the frequent photos that Karen would send via emails.

The first week of July saw me flying in to Heathrow. I was making a brief visit to my employers and then going to stay with my parents in Northants during my short stay, and since Karen and her family were only 18 miles away, it was agreed that they would go there also. I must say that my sister was looking good and had lost all of her baby weight and was as I remembered her. Her hair had grown some, but it was still much shorter than before she’d had it cut when we holidayed.

Karen held the baby in her arms as she showed her to me. I’m sure that my sister looked at me in a different way, as only I could see her smile and the look in her eyes. Beth, as she was also known, was still quite subdued, but she, too, seemed to smile, and like a lot of babies instinctively grabbed my finger in her tiny fist; nothing unusual in itself, but it meant a lot to me. Now I can’t honestly say that I’ve had a lot to do with babies, so I graciously declined the offer to hold her, but my mother had no such reluctance and stepped right in to take her first grandchild. Karen was then free to give me a hug, which felt much more natural.

It was an ideal summer’s day with the temperature in the low-70’s, and after the obligatory tea drinking and news catching up, Karen and I went into the back garden. As close siblings there was nothing unusual about the way we strolled leisurely with an arm around each others waist as walked and talked. Mum and Dad had lived in their house for most of their married lives and as children we played happily together there. Our favourite spot was the small orchard of a half-dozen or so fruit trees, where in summer our father would rig up a canvas tarpaulin between two of the trees which was our camp. There was no tent there now of course, but we sat on the ground and chatted out of earshot of the house.

“Well, so what do think of my daughter, then?”

“She’s beautiful like her mother!” Karen smiled.

“I still think about Menorca a lot, Trev. I love Graham to pieces, but I lie in bed at night and think of you.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t ask, but how’s Graham in that respect?” Karen smiled again, although not happily.