I looked at my sister in startled amazement. She had, sort of, in round about words, just offered to have sex with me. I think. I stared at her. She blushed slightly and dropped her gaze to the floor.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," she whispered.

"Uh. Okay, yeah tomorrow." I managed to say.

I turned and left, walking down the garden path towards my car, not seeing anything around me, just hearing her words over and over again in my mind.

"Okay then, why not tomorrow," she had said.

Viv was forty now, just turned forty one in fact. When she was in her teens and early twenties she was beautiful, sexy, and intelligent, everything I desired in a woman. At almost four years older than her, I'd gently lusted after her since before she was twelve, until, at around twenty nine, she'd finally got married. After she got married they moved abroad and I hadn't seen her so much, then a couple of years later she'd had two sons in fairly quick succession, just thirteen months apart, so her travels had come to an abrupt halt. I had never married, but I was self employed and hated taking time off work unnecessarily. If I didn't work, I didn't get paid, and I liked being paid, so I had to work. My travelling, apart from my work, was equally non-existent, but working away from home all the time, and never in the same place for more than a few months at a time, I had never found the time, or to be honest the inclination, to have a relationship myself, so although I managed a few small affairs and a few more one night stands, they never lasted.

Then John had upped and left her. There appeared to be no obvious reason, John wasn't seeing another woman, or man for that matter, and neither was Viv. She was shattered when he left and vowed to bring up their sons on her own. Unfortunately her mother in law had other ideas. Jennifer was a cow. No two ways about it, she was a nasty piece of work. No one was good enough for her son, and the fact that he'd married a non-Catholic, not only in a CofE church but not even in Ireland, was too much for her. As soon as she knew that her precious son had walked out on her hated daughter-in-law, Jennifer was off to immigration, and six weeks later Viv was summarily ejected, despite objections from her employer.

"Don't let anyone tell you Ireland is a nice place," she told us. "It is cliquey, prudish yet salacious, and in many ways, outside of the larger cities, extremely backwards. It's very pretty, but ..." she'd shaken her head in disgust. "Non Catholics are virtually second class citizens. For some, non Roman Catholic Christians are actually lower than non Christians." She'd looked around at the dinner table where most of the family were sitting, listening to her words whilst we ate.

"That's not right." Mum said, surprised.

"Between us," Viv said, "we've lived or worked in most countries in Europe for a while, and Phil's even worked in the States for three months. I bet not once did any of you notice any discrimination on grounds of religion."

We all shook our heads.

"Yeah but I was working not far from San Francisco, one of the genuinely more cosmopolitan cities in America." Phil said.

"There is Northern Ireland," said Dad, who had been sent to Belfast during the 1970's a few times by his office. "I never saw any problems in that respect, not once."

"Yeah, I know." Growled Viv. "At least there the religious bigotry is confined to a few morons and some politicians," she paused and shrugged, "one and the same I s'pose. At least there it's both out in the open and extremely obvious, and yet not as institutionalised as it is in the south, but in any case it's still Ireland and if you're the wrong denomination in the wrong place you'd better beware. You've heard the story that Jews actually think Northern Ireland is one of the safer places for them because the various Christian sects are fighting each other and leaving them alone?"

The was a mixture of shakes and nods around the table.

"I don't suppose it's really true, but it's an interesting comment on the relationship between the so-called Christian faiths across the whole of the island of Ireland." She shrugged and continued her diatribe. "When I went into hospital for Sam's birth, I had to fill in a form, and one of the things it asked was my religion. The only options were Catholic, Jew, Hindu and other. I don't think even Moslem was down, and the woman asking the questions had never even heard of Sikh's or Buddhist's. I ticked other, then put Church of England, which I suppose I am, or was, and the treatment I got from most of the staff was diabolical. Most of the nurses, but strangely not the midwife who I know was a devout Catholic, were rough with Sam and rude with me, John was treated like a sub human, I was discharged 24 hours earlier than I should have been, and I got the barest of minimum food whilst I was there. It was just as well that my own GP was a human being. Actually I have a sneaking suspicion that even though he had an Irish name, O'Connel, he wasn't actually Irish."

"What was work like?" Matt asked.

"That was fine. It was a German subsidiary of an American company, so there were lots of different nationalities around. Plus, being the type of company it was, 95% of the Irish working there were the intelligent and educated sort, which meant that most of them didn't give two hoots for religion, or if they did they weren't bigots, didn't worry about what other people were. A lot of the ones I knew were really horrified and embarrassed at the way I was treated, so it's not all Irishmen by any stretch of the imagination."

The conversation had gone on like that for a couple more hours. As much as anything it was her way of trying to cope with the loss of both a very well paid job, and her sons. The court in her local town had told her that because she hadn't converted to Catholicism she was by definition not a good mother and custody of the two boys therefore automatically went to the father. Viv was distraught at the loss, and for a while had become very fragile emotionally.

Fortunately John wasn't a bad father, in fact he was a very good father, and didn't deny Viv access, the only problem was getting to them as she no longer had the money. She was considering appealing to the UK courts, or even to the International Court of Human Rights, as she was sure that under EU law, the Irish government was not allowed to just deport her like that. Phil, our youngest brother told her all this, and she said she would investigate.

In the months since she had left Ireland her anger had actually got stronger, but it was now more controlled, and she could just about cope. Most of the time. She had bought a flat about fifteen miles from me, and about the same, or a little more, from our youngest brother. Our parents lived about 160 miles away, and the brother that fell between me and Viv, Matt, about 110 miles from me in the opposite direction. This was the first full family gathering we'd had since Viv had come home, but due to our parents age, by about eight in the evening they were starting to flag, and wanted to get back to their B&B. Matt also decided to head off back to Birmingham at the same time. He had a two hour plus journey ahead of him and his family, and Jake, his youngest son, was starting to get rather tired and fractious. Phil and I stayed a little longer before Phil's girlfriend rang him on his mobile, at which point he too had left. He was a building contractor and had to be at work at six in the morning. It was now nearly nine in the evening, and though still relatively early for us I thought it was time I too went.

"Hang on a mo. I want to ask you something."

"Sure," I said.

"I found your web site last week."

"Oh, yeah?" I asked cautiously. I took glamour photographs, had for a few years now, and had put up a large number of the better ones on my web site. I knew my mother disapproved, very strongly, but by both of us avoiding the subject at all costs, we got on. Viv on the other hand knew I had a web site, just had never been on it before.

"I like some of the photo's you've done. They're pretty."

"Yeah," I said, "that's the whole point. Photographing pretty girls rather than not so pretty ones." I smiled slightly.

"Which ones are your favourites?"

"In one way or another, all the ones that are up are my favourites."

"Yeah but you must have an overall favourite?"

"Three or four."

"Which ones?"

"Hard to say."

"Well then, blonde or brunette?"

"There's a couple of blondes, a brunette or two, at least one redhead."

She moved over to her computer and switched it on. "Well alright then, show me."

I shrugged and sat down next to her. Once she'd connected, she pulled up my web site and tried to get into the main portfolio. I took the mouse off her and redirected her to another part of the site.

"This is my own personal portfolio. There's only twenty pics here, and these ones are my particular favourites."

She clicked slowly though them, looking at them. Just under half of the pictures were portraits, there were a couple of full length fully clothed. The remainder were a mixture of topless, lingerie, with a couple of classic nudes thrown in for good measure. Three of the pictures were black and white, the remainder in colour. None of them were even vaguely pornographic. Not even soft porn. In fact the whole of the site was like that, not even soft porn except very very occasionally when a bit of pubic hair strayed into the picture. I'd photographed page 3 girls with their clothes on.

"So come on then," she said, "you must have a favourite amongst these."

"I don't know that I have particularly." I began to click through them myself now. "Possibly Claire. Not the brightest of girls, but quite tall and very pretty, beautiful in fact.

"One brunette," said Viv.

"Donna, again not the brightest of girls, but she knows what she wants, and was a very good model; Toria, oh stunningly beautiful, intelligent, sexy, I was definitely in lust with her."

"Two blondes," Viv grinned.

"Jenny's a Redhead, not as pretty, but incredibly sexy. Six foot nothing in her bare feet, and nearly thirty when that picture was taken. She worked in the same office as me as a computer programmer. The whole office lusted after her to some extent. Drove racing cars for a hobby. Incredibly fit."

"Did you lust after her?"

"But of course, she has red hair." I didn't add anything else as if that was all that needed to be said.

"And finally Tara. I wasn't in lust with her, I was in love. Still am, truth be told. She's an amazing girl, been through all sorts of shit in her life and just about manages to smile. She's incredibly intelligent, bright, cheerful except when she's depressed, pretty, sexy ..."

"All right, I get the picture," laughed Viv. "But she's a brunette, and I got the impression that you preferred red-heads."

"Well I do, but it's not the most important thing. In Tara's case it was her quick wit and intelligence that attracted me, as well as her stunning good looks."

"So okay, Tara is your favourite, who's next, the red-head?"

"Jenny? I dunno. Any of them."

Viv pointed to the black and white picture of Donna. "I like that one." She was wearing a short white jersey and black briefs, and kneeling up on a bench at an angle to the camera.

"Yeah I like that one. She reminds me a tiny bit of the way you looked when you were that age."

Viv laughed and I knew she was pleased. Donna didn't really remind me of Viv, not very much, but this particular picture did make her look a tiny bit like Viv.

"Do you remember when we were younger?"

"Which bit? There's a lot of that."

"You know, when we used to touch each other?"

"Oh god yes." I hadn't thought about it in a very long time, but when I was about 14 or so I guess, Viv had let me touch and stroke her pussy and I had persuaded her to hold my cock. One time I'd even got her to masturbate me, but I was quite ignorant at that time, and didn't know anything about oral sex, didn't know how to masturbate her, and she being only ten knew even less than me. It had lasted a few months but then something, I'm still not sure what, had made us stop. I'd fantasized, and even wanked, over those memories for a long time, but nothing had ever happened again.

"What do you remember?" she asked.

"Phew. I'm not sure all together. I don't remember why we started, I just remember you letting both Matt and Phil touch you one time, and I seem to remember that Phil actually hurt you?"

"Aye, but don't forget he was only five."

"Oh, yeah, true."

We changed the subject then, and began to talk about what Viv proposed to do over the next few months, but eventually it was time for me to leave. I'd already offered to come over the following day to help her shift the last bits of junk out of the house. I kissed her on the cheek and prepared to leave.

"You know," she said softly, "I always regret that we never did anything more than touch all those years ago."

"Yeah? Me too. I fancied you for ages, and would have done almost anything to have you make love to me, or ... well even just oral sex, just to see you naked again ... anything, but that was years ago."

"Okay then, why not tomorrow?"

I looked at my sister in startled amazement. She had, sort of, in round about words, just offered to have sex with me. I think. I stared at her. She blushed slightly and dropped her gaze to the floor.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," she whispered.

"Uh. Okay, yeah tomorrow." I managed to say.

I turned and left, walking down the garden path towards my car, not seeing anything around me, just hearing her words over and over again in my mind.

That night I masturbated over the memories of my sisters body for the first time in over twenty years, possibly nearer 30 years. I couldn't believe what she'd said to me, and couldn't wait until the following morning to see how much she'd meant by it.

I showered and dressed carefully the following morning. If I'd misunderstood her I was just going to be in for some heavy lifting to get rid of all the junk and shift it down to the tip. On the other hand if she had meant everything I thought she'd said, I was now, maybe, in for a very delayed, but still much desired, treat. Sex with my sister.

When I got there she was still in her dressing gown, and some long silk pyjamas. She had long since lost the stunning figure she'd once had, but was still an attractive, middle aged woman.

"Good morning," I grinned.

She smiled softly. "Come on in. I wont be a sec. There's coffee in the pot if you want it."

"Great." I walked through to the kitchen, and called back to her, "do you want me to pour you a cup."

"Please." She was right behind me where I had thought she had gone to her room.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't realise you were there."

She smiled again, picked up the mug of coffee I had poured for her and beckoned me through. "I'll just get dressed, then we can get started." I shrugged mentally. Oh well, I'd obviously got it wrong. I was even more amazed therefore when she just stripped off in front of me. I turned my back politely, though I didn't really want to.

"Am I that ugly now?" she asked softly.

"Er, no, but ..."

Her voice had laughter in it. "I thought you wanted to see me naked."

I turned to look at her. She wasn't looking at me, in fact I got the distinct impression she was deliberately looking away from me, but she was also asking me, inviting me, to look at her whilst she got dressed. Her figure had thickened over the years, and her small boobs had grown somewhat and become a little saggy. Her bum was still relatively firm, but her thighs and buttocks had stretch marks. I couldn't see her stomach or pubic mound, so I could only guess what she might look like there. She pulled on a pair of white briefs, over which went some jeans and a white tee-shirt. She looked amazingly sexy all of a sudden.

As she finally turned to me and gave me a small smile, I took a half pace towards her and picked up her hands. She just watched me as I lifted them to my mouth and kissed first one, then the other. "Not just yet," she said, "later." She turned abruptly away from me and picked up her coffee and holding the mug with both hands begin to take small sips from it, all the while watching me.

I looked back at her, and could see something strange in her eyes. There was a smoky look that I could neither explain nor describe, but it turned me on enormously.

"What are we doing first?" I asked.

"Getting the stuff shifted down the tip."

I smiled slightly. "Yeah, what I meant was where are we starting."

It was Viv's turn to smile. "If we start in the kitchen and just shift everything onto the front lawn, and not actually take stuff down the tip until everything's out of the house."

It was a strange morning. For nearly three hours we worked, saying little, but getting all the old junk she wanted rid of out onto the front lawn. Throughout the course of the morning though, we had touched each other more and more frequently. Viv had started it, instead of just tapping me on the shoulder to get me to move to one side, she had put her hand on my backside instead. I knew this was deliberate, because with what she was carrying, it would actually have been more awkward to touch me where she did. Some ten or fifteen minutes later, I did the same to her. Viv appeared to not even notice, except that she moved slightly to one side to let me past with my burden.

It was when we had almost finished the first stage of our task that it finally became more explicit. I had just dropped a very heavy mangle onto the ground and stood up again. Leaning against it for a moment to get my strength back, Viv came past me with an almost empty box in one hand, the other holding a can of lemonade.

"'Ere darlin' getcher laughin' gear raand tha'" she grinned at me.

"Cheers ducks" I grinned in response and took a huge gulp. Viv dropped her box, and as I had my head back drinking deeply, she ran a hand over my crotch. It startled me and I gasped and began to choke as some of the liquid tried to drown me.

I coughed and spluttered for a few moments, half hearing Viv's peals of laughter as she disappeared back into the house.

"Toe rag," I said after I had finally got my breath back and followed her into the house. "You deliberately did that."

She grinned, "of course."

I grabbed her around the waist, pulled her towards me, and tried to bend her over. "I aught to spank your bum," I said laughing."

"Kiss my arse," she said, still grinning at me.

"Okay, bend over."

Viv gave a little squeal of surprise at my words, as she realised the unintended invitation she'd just given me. She turned away from me and bent over, pushing her bum towards me. As I bent down to kiss it she giggled and stood up again, and was about to move away when I shot out a hand and slid it between her thighs. I grabbed her crotch and squeezed lightly for a brief moment before releasing her.

She gave a short scream and moved away from me laughter, surprise and even a little shock in her eyes.

"Would you care to pass me those last couple of boxes, and we're finished in here," I said, a smile playing about my lips.

Viv acknowledged my change of tack by picking them up and lofting them towards me. I caught them one at a time, lofting each one out of the door and onto the pile outside before the next one arrived. We'd got everything out of the house Viv wanted out, and now just had to load up our cars to get it all to the tip.

"I think it's time for something to eat, before we start hauling it all down the dump," I said, looking at my watch.

Viv glanced up at the clock, and nodded. "There's some cheese and tomatoes in the fridge, some nice bread in the bin, and I think there might even be some decent butter around somewhere."

"Sounds good to me."

She preceded me into the kitchen, and as she stood at the sink, washing her hands, I crowded behind her, pushing myself firmly against her to reach around her and wash my own hands. She giggled and pushed her bum back against me, I responded by pressing my belly against her and for a few seconds we pressed ourselves together. I'm sure she could feel my erection forming, but she said nothing about it. Instead she turned around suddenly, reached her arms around me neck, and planted a quick kiss on my startled lips. Before I could grab her and repeat the action, she had squirmed free of me and moved away, giggling like mad.

"Food," I said, calming myself down with more prosaic thoughts.

"This do?" she asked.

I turned and my jaw dropped. She was leaning back against the kitchen table, her jeans and knickers around her ankles, her tee-shirt pulled up almost to her boobs. Her legs were spread as wide as the denim would allow, but there was no mistaking her offer. I just stared.

"You wanted oral sex with me, so just do it," she said softly.

I approached, looking into her eyes and seeing a quiet determination in them. There was no mistaking that she really wanted me to do this. I didn't even ask if she was sure, I knew she was. I knelt down in front of her, and began by kissing her navel. After two children, even if it was eight years ago, her stomach was a little loose. Nothing that some good abdominal exercise wouldn't cure I was sure. Her dark pubic hair was thick and bushy, and I knew, given the chance, I would want to trim it. She obviously no longer wore a bikini. I spent a few minutes stroking her with my fingers, lightly parting her pubic bush, before bending my head and finally tasting her. There was little taste at first. I could see that her labia were still dry and closed, but as I kissed and licked, they began to swell and darken, parting to let the inner labia show through, and soon after she began to get wet. I began to take long slow licks all around her crotch. It tasted slightly bitter, possibly of sweat after our hard work, but there was an additional slightly creamy salty taste that I knew was her arousal. Letting my tongue catch the nubbin that was her clitoris I made her jump and gasp.

"That's enough," she said a short while later, her voice shaking with her arousal. At least, I hoped it was that. She pushed me away, to my disappointment, and bent down to pull up her knickers and jeans. I stopped her and pulled them up myself, stroking her legs as I did so, settling her soft briefs about her hips, stroking her crotch one more time before pulling up her jeans. I watched as the crotch of her briefs began to dampen, but she wouldn't let me touch her again. Instead she pulled me up, put her arms around me and gave me a long, deep kiss.