Chapter 10

Manuel Montoya knocked on his sister-in-law's door and waited for her to peer at him through the peephole and open up. "Manuel?" Marta eyed him. "What is wrong?"

"I have news that we must present to the family and I need to hear your counsel. May I come in?"

Marta backed up, waving him in. "Why me? Why not Inez?" Marta tended to stay away from Manuel -- and vice-versa. Marta found Manuel to be extremely attractive -- but he belonged to Inez. The sisters had discussed the situation on numerous occasions -- Inez's usual response was to scoff and tease her, telling her that Manuel was just a big boy and that Marta should not be concerned about finding his eyeballs in her cleavage, Inez had him properly tied down -- but it had forced a certain formality upon her dealings with her brother-in-law -- a formality that he returned, probably because Inez was correct about his admiration for her bust, among other things. To see the pair at family functions, one would think that they disliked each other -- but that was not the case. Both of them merely wanted to avoid any suspicion of impropriety, so they avoided each other -- and, thus, temptation.

The situation had become more complicated with the untimely death of Marta's late husband. There hadn't been any money, and Marta's job cleaning offices allowed her to put hand to mouth, but that was about it; any unexpected expense threatened to swamp her. Inez had acted as intermediary, arranging for a number of 'loans' from her husband; Marta never asked him directly and he never spoke to her about it -- and no one ever expected the debts to be repaid. Part of this was their shared culture, in which widowed family members were carried more or less on the family dole -- but it added an additional concern, as male relatives trading on such favors to subjugate the widow concerned was a favorite soap-opera plot. This left dealings between the pair on a VERY formal plane ... Marta eyed Manuel, waiting, while he stood there in the middle of her small living room, looking vastly uncomfortable.

Manuel took a breath. "Inez is unavailable. That is ... part of the problem."

"I do not understand."

"It is ... complicated."

"I will make coffee. Please, make yourself comfortable." Marta bustled off.

Manuel made himself UNcomfortable on the edge of Marta's side chair while he waited for her to return. How on Earth should he present this? Inez seemed to think that he should just tell her it was time to move in with him or something -- but that seemed overly simplistic, at the very least ... He had no idea how to present Inez's fanciful wishes in a manner that would not insult her sister -- possibly alienating her forever. It appeared to be best to keep things basic; Inez could brief this other silliness when she surfaced again...

Marta returned with the coffee tray to find him perched like that, looking uncomfortable. Putting the tray down on the coffee table, she poured and made sugar and cream available. "It is serious, then."

"Yes." Manuel couldn't seem to find a way to get on with it.

"What has happened?"

"Isobel and Inez were having coffee at their usual place this morning when the Confederacy arrived," Manuel muttered.

"Oh!" Marta sat up, surprised. "What happened?"

"Isobel ... was selected. Inez became concerned for her -- I am sure you have heard about the kinds of things that occur at these ... events ... She also presented herself -- and was selected. They are gone."

"Oh my God!" Marta sat up and threw her hands to her cheeks, shocked. "Both of them?"

"Yes." This was even harder than anticipated; Manuel's hand shook as he reached for his coffee cup. "I have spoken to Inez by telephone. They are well -- but the situation is irreversible. They are gone."

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry!" Marta stood and crossed to where Manuel was sitting, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Well, they are not dead, at least," Manuel, said softly. "I am still trying to understand it all. For Isobel, it is probably all for the best, but for Inez ... She apologized. The duties of motherhood seemed more important to her than the duties of a wife to her in that moment -- and now our marriage is no more, legally."

"The Church will see this differently," Marta opined.

"Yes." Manuel chuckled. "Inez's answer to that was..." He cocked his head and concentrated on the correct wording, "My husband, there is sin and there is sin. Even if we remain married in the eyes of God, we can no longer be together -- and I MUST cleave unto another! If the Church cannot deal with that, remind them that it is the only way I can be fruitful and multiply and provide God with soldiers for the coming battle!"

"She said that?" Marta laughed.

"Word for word," Manual grinned ruefully.

"What else did she say?"

Manuel became distinctly uncomfortable. "She had some ... crazy ideas. I will not insult you with them."

Manuel's discomfort was a dead giveaway. While a man would have respected Manuel's wishes in this, it was not the approach to take with a woman. "Insult me? How could you insult me with something Inez said?" Marta demanded.

Manuel attempted to wave it off, "Let us just say that she chose to disregard propriety."

This, of course, did NOT work... "Now you MUST tell me!" Marta demanded. "What did she say?"

It was time to switch tactics. Withholding information seldom worked with Inez if she was alert, but it might with her sister... "She ... suggested that I take you into my household."

"I see." Yes, that would raise eyebrows. People would make assumptions...

Manuel allowed a flicker of relief to show in his features. This might work!

It didn't; Marta saw his face and realized that he was still hiding something. "That's not insulting. Perhaps a little daring, but not insulting. What else did she say?"

Time to stonewall. "Nothing."

Marta stamped her foot -- reminding Manuel forcibly of Inez. "I am not stupid! You are deliberately holding back! Why?"

"I have told you why!" Manuel retorted with some asperity. "I wish to avoid insult! Inez might be able to discuss this with you, but I cannot!" He was becoming mildly angry -- and that was never a good thing in verbal duels with Inez...

It was too late -- they were in full-blown conflict. Marta circled around to confront him directly and tilted up his chin so she could glare into his eyes. "It is too late for that! You will tell me! What did she say?"

This was the wrong thing to do -- and the right thing. Being treated like a recalcitrant child caused Manuel's anger to flare; he leaped up and glared down at his one-time wife's sister. "All right, then! It shall be as you wish! She told me that perception should be reality -- that I should not only take you under my roof, but into my bed! She told me to tell you that it is your duty -- that you owe me this -- that you should offer me comfort and I should give you protection..." He wound down. "These were her words, not mine..."

Marta stood with her hand to her mouth, eyes huge. "She said this?"

"She said you were ... interested..." Manuel looked away, "and teased me about looking at your breasts..."

Marta knew with absolute certainty that Manuel wasn't embroidering things or turning them to suit his needs -- they were almost word for word the contents of a half-dozen half-serious conversations between her and her sister at that very coffee table! The breast remark was enough to guarantee authenticity in and of itself! True, the conversations had usually come under the heading of 'If I die... ' -- but the content was the same, and the circumstances ... She reached up and put a hand to his cheek. "I apologize, Manuel. I see now that you were attempting to look after my best interests."

"I didn't..."

"I know."

"I told her that I could not say these things to you -- that I have no gift of words to make it right. But I have blurted it out, anyway..." Manuel muttered. "I should go."

"I think not," Marta replied. "We still need to discuss how to present this to the family -- all of it."

"All of what?"

"Isobel's departure. Inez's departure. Where they are -- what they are doing. My moving into your home."

"I ... What?" Manuel blinked.

"It is convenient, at the very least, don't you think? You get the services of a woman and I don't have to clean some nasty building so I can stay here in this place, all alone..." Marta cocked her head. "My sister is not stupid, you know. She knows what is best for us."

"Perhaps," Manuel croaked.

"As for the other thing -- we should probably wait for a decent interval before acknowledging it," Marta said smoothly.

"Other thing?" Manuel was awash.

Marta slipped forward to embrace him; Manuel returned it, self- consciously. "She said I should comfort you, did she not? What did she say about my breasts?"

"She said ... if I presented her wishes properly..." Manuel's mouth was dry. The objects under discussion were about a foot from his eyeballs, and almost straight down. She was looking up at him, smiling demurely. He wanted to look no lower, but that cleft, that valley, tugged at his eyeballs -- soft, dark, deep...

Marta watched the hunger flood his expression -- hunger she hadn't seen in a while -- and thought about a laughing conversation she'd had with her sister. "He's like a boy, sometimes," Inez had said, "a big, sweet boy. Just give him a toy to play with..." Marta stepped back, collecting one of his hands. "Let's go to my room and sleep on it; in the morning we can discuss how to present things to the family when we're fresh."

That was all it took; ten minutes later, he was rhythmically probing her depths with his cock, listening to her half-familiar pattern of gasping moans while he reverently clutched a big, brown-nippled breast in either hand. Marta was pleased; he was every bit the wonderful lover Inez had always claimed he was.

As for Inez, she was busy with her new role -- and her new charges. Sanket, taking her advice, had confronted Rachana in her quarters and, after a brief fit of histrionics terminated by what Inez felt was a very judiciously delivered swat on the ass, she'd followed him meekly back to his quarters.

From what Inez could see, he was doing fine without her. He took Rachana into his embrace to comfort her -- which she fought, but only momentarily. To her blubbered objection that she was a ruined thing, he replied, "You were a girl, and had girlish concerns. Now you are a woman. Women here do not have husbands, so having been deflowered by a man not your husband is normal and therefore not an issue. I will provide you with womanly concerns, soon enough."

Sanket cuddled Rachana and let her wail out her hysterical apologies. When she wound down, she decided that apologies weren't enough, more or less as predicted. Now, Inez was gently masturbating while watching a full, three- dimensional representation of Rachana, parked between Sanket's splayed legs, sliding her lips up and down his erection to the accompaniment of a mixture of Sanket's quiet groans and soft slurping noises. At first, Sanket had limited himself to toying with Rachana's conical, brown-nippled breasts, but now, mindful of Inez's advice in the matter, he was gripping a handful of Rachana's hair and urging her on to greater effort while surging up from below. Inez chuckled to herself; maybe he was just feeling the urgency, rather than following her advice -- but it was hotter to watch, in any event. Inez was mildly embarrassed about fingering herself, but she wouldn't be sleeping with Manuel this night -- or any other, now. She was more than mildly unhappy about that, but Sanket was a good boy; they would all make the best of it.