The Granduncle Inheritance





A sister and brother, middle aged, find love far away.


Thanks to my editor the magnificent Pepere, if this story is readable at all is because his wonderful work.

1---Moira

Prologue:

I was a 43 year old married housewife, with two sons and a daughter, when my new life began. The eldest of the two boys, Ian, was named in honor of my big brother, and my daughter, Fiona, after my mother. Ian and Fiona are 20 year old twins, and their brother, Sean, is the family baby at 17. My husband, Richard, will be 49 next month, and by the way, my name is Moira. As you may appreciate, all of us, except my husband, Richard, are very Celtic. Yes, we're descendants of Scottish immigrants; by my grandparents on my mother's side, and Irish on my father's side.

As I have mentioned, I have a big brother, Ian, three years my senior, married, and with one son soon to be 19, if I remember correctly. He's married to a hussy, oh, excuse my French, to a good for nothing wife, who luckily lives five hundred miles away and unfortunately is my husband's sister, ergo my sister-in-law; I also have, we also have better said, Ian and me, two younger siblings ten years my junior who can be considered the children of my parents' old age, and they are also twins. My family is big on twins, as you can see.

Our parents have a medium-size dairy farm on which they, besides providing the feed for their cows, harvest corn and other crops and fresh veggies to sell at the town market. We come from a small community in the middle of the big plain fields of Kansas, New Gotland is the town's name, and my husband, Richard, works in the sheriff office of McPherson County. My big brother, Ian, is an Agronomist, and went west to work for a big multinational agricultural company, and our family, as a whole, would meet only two, three times a year, and even then, not every year, on my parents' birthdays (both are in May), maybe at Thanksgiving, and at Christmas.

We used to get together at least six to eight times a year when we were younger and just married, but what with the passage of time and each family's obligations, such family reunions dwindled, and with luck, as I said, the whole family got together at least two or three times a year.

Just to let things be known, I should tell you before continuing with the story, that I was married, but not happily. On the contrary it was, at least to me, a hurtful marriage. I was married because I got pregnant 20 some odd years ago when I was in my second year in college, and Richard thought it was his duty to make an honest woman of me, ha, ha, ha, and my dad's shotgun also helped convince him, of course.

Our sex life had gone from bad, to nonexistent over a long time, but hurtful to me; we slept in the same bed because I was afraid doing otherwise, it was easier for my husband who didn't want to be giving explanations to the whole family, and that was all the romance I got from life.

A---Siblings

We always were very close, my brother, Ian, and me. It started as early as I could remember when we were toddlers playing in the mud together, taking baths together, and running around in the park by the house. We went together when I was old enough to go to school, and he being older always took good care of me; you could say I had a crush on him. I felt lost without him when he went to high school, so we were always hanging out together when I caught up with him in high school. We always managed to find time to talk and hang out when we could, even when he was in college and I was ready to graduate from high school. If anyone asked me, I would tell them I loved my brother, of course. I mean doesn't every sister? Then it happened.

It was one summer day before I was going to start college. I had just turned 18 a few weeks before, after formally graduating from high school; I was nervous about what it would be like to be in college and about guys my age. I knew I wouldn't have to worry about it because my big brother would be there, and he would look after me as he did many times before. Then I did what was usual for me.

We were alone in the house early that evening; Ian was in his room feeling sorry for himself about the end of his two year relationship with his girlfriend. So, as I usually did when we were kids, I ran up the stairs to my brother's room to try to get him off of what I thought must be his loneliness and boredom. I threw the door open without knocking first, and barged in. "Ian, can I talk with you about co..." and to my surprise, I found him with his pants on the floor and with his hand working very hard on a very hard dick.

The deafening cry was one of outrage and shame, "Holy shit, Moira, how many times have I told you to knock before coming in, don't you know how to knock on a door? " he shouted, as he scrambled to pull the bedspread over him.

"What the hell do you want this time, couldn't I have some privacy in this house?"

"Oh, Ian, I am really sorry. I didn't know, I didn't think, and, and ...I truly apologize," I said and couldn't help burst laughing at the sight of the tent in his bed mattress.

I loved my big brother because she wasn't like the brothers of other girls I knew from high school who are pretty nasty, humiliating, and sarcastic to their little sisters and their friends most of the time. Unlike them, Ian had always been my protector and mentor, and had supported me in so many ways while we were growing up. He was just out of his junior year at the state university and had turned 21 only a couple months ago.

"I just wanted to keep you company and talk to you about me in college and stuff." I went over and sat on the edge of the bed." Ian, I'm truly sorry I walked in like that, but don't feel bad that I saw you. Everybody does it, even me."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, but you have to learn that there is something called privacy, and you can't barge in like it's nothing when a door is closed."

"I know, but it's nothing to be ashamed of. The only thing I can think about is how you must feel now that your girlfriend is out of your life. I assume you guys had sex since you'd been going steady for two years," I said, trying to calm him down.

"We broke up just after her prom a few weeks ago, and I have needs..." then his voice trailed off.

"Damn," I said, "I know you must really be hurting, no pun intended, but you'll be dating someone else soon. You're a pretty cute guy for a brother, you know."

He smiled at that, "So, Sis, what did you want to talk about?"

"Oh, nothing important; do you want me to come back later so you can finish what you were doing?"

"No, no, that's OK. I'm not in the mood now anyway."

I took a deep breath before starting, "As you know, I'll be going to college next year and I wanted to know just...well, just how things work, you know..."

He was smiling like a jerk, "So you want to know about professors, class materials, courses, class schedules, and all those topics?"

"Don't be so dense; you know very well what I want to know."

"That being?"

I slapped him in the leg over the bedspread, "Such as how the interaction between girls and boys and such is."

"Oh, you mean if you'll be able to fuck and such..."

At this point I was already fuming, He was pulling my leg and I could do nothing about it. He had the information I would need to not make a fool of myself.

I'm sure he saw the expression on my face; I was about to explode.

"OK, OK" He said trying to calm me down, "I'm not so sure about that, Sis. But I know that there will be so many boys after you when you get to school in the fall, you'll have to beat them off with a stick."

"You think so? You think I'm cute?"

"Hell Sis, I'd be the first to be after you if you weren't my sister."

I felt my face getting redder by the moment, and my head was getting giddy with his words, "Oh, come on, you can be serious, Ian."

"But I am, and I think I should tell you how things work there. Well," he said. "You're going to have a lot to learn in college besides your course work, and that's because a lot of those college boys are way ahead of you in experience, sexual experience."

"But I'm not going to fall in love..."

He looked at me as if I were stupid, "Who's talking about love? I'm talking about sex, like in fucking."

"But I'm a virgin, and always thought about keeping my maidenhood for my husband.

"He looked at me again as if I were from another planet, "OK, Sister, you can do that if you want, but I'm telling you right now it will be a very boring four years for you when everyone knows you're not available and the boys give you the cold treatment."

"So you're implying that I should become a slut?"

"Oh, for God's sake; I never said anything about being a slut, I'm only saying that you should give it a try if you find someone you like."

"Just like that?"

"No, not just like that. I will say that most of the girls I met in my freshman year were pretty ignorant about sex, and that's why I worry about you. I'd hate to think that boys are going to think you're some neo-virgin who doesn't know her way around."

"What about you, were you were considered a naive boy?"

"Well, yes, and that's why I don't want you to suffer. Ellen and I were sexually involved, that's true, but it wasn't..."

"Do you mean Ellen from home?" I was flustered and didn't know why.

"...something that either of us had considered as permanent. Truth is, I've had a dozen sex partners since I've gotten to college, and one of them was an older woman professor. Of those, she was the one I've learned the most from, well at least most what I know."

"Wow, a professor." My face must have reflected my surprise and wonder, because suddenly my brother started laughing.

"That's right, little sister, woman professors are also women."

"I'm not so little, I'm already eighteen."

"That's right, and that's why I'm telling you what you're going to find at college."

"OK," I said, "We're together on this, but don't ever tell a thing to Mom and Dad."

"Right, the first thing you must know is how to protect yourself once you've lost your maidenhood to some lucky fellow. The campus medical center sells birth control pills to girls over 18 on a don't ask, don't tell, basis, and you should start taking them as soon as you get there.

Still, since I don't know how reliable they really are, you should consider the other option."

My eyes were bugging out of their sockets. "What other option?"

"Are you that naïve, Baby? Listen, it's getting late, and Mom might be coming home soon. Consider this as sort of an introductory lesson, and we'll begin your real education when Mom and Dad head up to their friends' house on the shore this weekend."

I nodded. He kissed me on the cheek, and said, "Holy shit; who would have thought, when you were just learning to walk and I used to help Mom give you your bath all those years ago, that I would be teaching you how to use your little cunt years later."

"Ha, ha, ha, you wish that was true," I said, as he sniggered and I turned and sashayed to the door, wiggling my cute little ass. Each day until Saturday seemed like it was forty eight hours long. I was still struggling with the notion that my big brother and I were going to be friends with benefits, not in the biblical sense, mind you, but very nearly. When I now thought about our budding relationship, that expression wasn't even mentioned almost twenty five years ago.

Our parents left for the shore about nine Saturday morning. I stayed in my room. I wasn't even sure if Ian was still going to follow through with our plan and I was starting to think that it maybe wasn't such a good idea; maybe it would be better to let things go their own way until I went to college and saw how things were there.

I heard a knock at my door around ten o'clock, and when I said 'come in', the door opened and Ian appeared with a little grin, and said, "Good morning, Class. Are we ready for our first lesson in Sex-Ed today?"

He came in, sat on my bed, took my hand, and put it on his crotch over his pajamas. I felt something nice, warm, and firm. I squeezed it a little and let my fingers play with it; something was becoming firm and erect.

"Oh, what a naughty student you are to get so fresh with your teacher," he laughed. With that, he took off his tee shirt and sat there bare-chested.

"I thought," he said, "That we should begin with something you seemed to know nothing about for our first lesson, based on our earlier discussions, but it's so important if you want to be a real success with the boys. The way is to give good blowjobs."

I was astonished, utterly unbelieving, "You mean like, like...putting that...in my..."

"Yes, my dear sister, a blowjob is sucking a boy's penis with your mouth; it has its benefits, of course, because you'll want to be given the same treatment and believe me, it's very pleasurable when done well."

"But...but...I don't think I could do something so dirty." I tentatively asked my brother, "Have you done it, I mean have girls done it to you?"

"Yes, my love, I've done it and had it done to me, and I assure you that it's wonderful, both to the doer and to whom it is done to."

"But I have never done anything like that, and I'm not sure I can ever do it."

He nodded and said, "OK, you're right. We've all been first-timers." Then he stood up and pulled his pajamas and shorts down, and kicked them to a corner. He stood there stark naked, with his magnificent cock right in front of my face. I blushed and started shaking. My own brother was totally nude, only inches from me.

"It works much better if we both have our clothes off," he said, as he bent over and pulled my tee shirt over my head. Then he knelt down in front of me and pulled my panties off. My pussy was already wet, and he smiled seeing that I was ready for my first lesson. "You'll get used to being with a naked man this way."

"Are you going to make me suck it" I asked, shaking like a leaf. "Later," he grinned, and seeing as I was terrified, said "Don't worry, I'm joking. You have to pay attention to teacher right now."

"We'll use my finger, or we can use yours, if that makes you more comfortable."

With that, he scrambled up onto my bed, puffed the pillow up for my head, and sat in front of me Indian style, with his legs crossed; his hard penis was straight as an arrow with its tip pointing to the ceiling; my vaginal lips felt a little moist, but nothing more. The rest would come later.

"Now, give me your middle finger; I'm gonna start explaining the facts of life to you. You take the boy's or man's penis like this, and..."

He explained the basics of a good blowjob to me. He took my finger and started licking around the tip with his tongue, then he slowly took it and put it in his mouth, sucking at it like it were a bar of candy, moving it inside his mouth then he took it out and licked the finger from the tip down to the palm of my hand and back up several times. He put it in his mouth again when it was covered with spit, and returned to the sucking and licking.

I was getting hot and was squirming in my bed by then, with my vagina getting wetter by the second; the performance my brother was making with my finger was a very erotic, and my mind went blank at that moment.

Ian suddenly took my finger out of his mouth, and looking me directly in the eyes, said, "Your turn to practice; take my finger and show me what you learned." He extended his right hand, with his middle finger rigidly outstretched near my mouth.

I was nervous as I took his hand with mine trembling; I had never done anything so kinky, so weird, so exciting, or so thrilling. I was going to simulate giving a blowjob to my big brother; truth is that it was only his finger I was going to suck; truth is that it was only make believe, but I found the situation stimulating none the less. There we were, both of us naked on my bed, both sexually over-stimulated if his rampant erection and my wetness were any kind of proof.

We profoundly looked into each other's eyes and something, some kind of thunderbolt, went from one to the other; his penis was trembling and jerking with every heartbeat, my pussy was leaking something white and viscous, as a strong scent wafted up. He seemed to wake up from a deep sleep, shook his head as if to get out of a deep trance, softly took his finger from my hand, and getting up from the bed, said, "I think we better finish the lesson some other day," and he quickly exited the room.

B---The breakup of a sibling's relationship

We never finished the lessons on how could I become an expert on girl/boy relationships in college. We didn't meet alone again, and it took almost all summer for us to feel comfortable with each other again. Something in our relationship had subtly changed; I didn't know what it was at the moment, and I'm sure Ian also didn't know what had happened. It was a weird feeling; we were more united mentally than ever before in our lives, and we were uncomfortable when we were together alone at the same time. This sensation slowly disappeared with the passage of time, and our relationship was almost completely normal well into my first semester at college. We started to go out and spend time together again, so much so that some people made malicious comments about us, about how much time we spent together, or about the effort I always made to see him. But we were just really close. I suppose they were just jealous. That was just the way it was with us, we loved each other and liked to be together.

I always thought he was a handsome guy and it was a surprise to me that he never dated anyone steadily again. I figured he was just holding out for the right girl, and I didn't blame him. There were a lot of tramps out there. In my mind, I romantically thought whichever girl my brother wound up with would be the right one for him, and he had time to avoid making mistakes. When it came to these sorts of things, I thought timing was really everything, after all. Life has taught me just how wrong I was.

I found myself with no more classes one evening. My Chemistry 101 professor was sick, so got to leave early, and on the spur of the moment, I decided to drop in on Ian at his dorm before going to mine. I had been there a few times, so I knew my way around the buildings. I made my way through the campus toward his dorm after parking the car. The college was always full of people, and I figured Ian would probably be out with friends, but maybe I could catch him, drink a soda, and chat. I felt very 'college girl' that night wearing a white tank top and black skirt, with a pink band in my hair.

The truth was, one reason I went to see my big brother at his dorm was to check out the guys, his acquaintances that I would meet in the next year. High school boys had been mostly immature and I figured the older boys in college would be a little more mature. I wasn't much for dating, and I knew all about intercourse, of course; anyone living on a farm learns about it at an early age.

I slipped into the door of the building as a couple was coming out, went up the three flights of stairs, and made my way to Ian's room. I always liked to sneak up on him whenever I could, mostly at home, of course, so when I came to his door, I checked the handle to see if it was unlocked. It clicked open and I darted in with a big grin.

My smile froze on my face at the picture suddenly before my eyes; my brother, my playmate, the confidant to whom I had told things that not even my best friend knew, was naked in bed having sex with a woman. The woman turned her head at the sound of the door opening and saw me in the doorway. She uttered a cry of terror at the intrusion and tried to disengage my brother from above her.

With her cries and the scandal, my brother who didn't understand what was happening, turned his head in the door's direction, and I saw the look of surprise and the glassy stare he had in his eyes, before I turned and slammed the door shut. I had stopped him in the middle of coitus. If there ever was one, that was really a case of 'coitus interruptus'.





Our relationship changed dramatically from then on; we were no more siblings, companions, and accomplices; something had broken inside me that day. I didn't know what or why, I only wanted to have nothing to do with Ian, I went back home and entered a stage of alternating rebellion and depression that my parents didn't understand. When my brother came back home at the request of my parents, who didn't know was wrong with me and didn't know what to do, and he asked me what was happening with me, I just told him to fuck off and never talk me again. Silly of me. I went back to college, where I had lost a semester, and my mind was made up. If he could fuck, so could I, and it was then that my short wild spree started. Everything went wrong, and I now didn't have a big brother to advise me or keep me out of trouble. It was a short spree, because when Richard, a student I knew from our hometown who was a jerk, asked me to go drinking and dancing at a place where I would see and be seen by Ian, I told him yes to annoy my brother.

That party was a nightmare. Ian was there with a couple of his friends and girls, and his expression went sour when he saw me with Richard, and he didn't remove his eyes off me all night. I acted very crazy, and the more he looked at me, the crazier my behavior became. Not being accustomed to hard drinking, I was completely drunk by midnight, making a spectacle of myself to the screaming and cheering of the place crowded with students. My brother had left the place before midnight, so he didn't see me at my worst; but I'm sure the people he was there with and who didn't leave with him had to tell him everything with plenty of details.

My head was throbbing like mad, and my headache was so painful that it could be registered in the Guinness Book of Records the next morning. It was the same the next Saturday, only this time my brother got up and left the premises as soon as I got in the club. It was a rowdy night again and I was considered a slut by the end of the month.

I lost my virginity to Richard, and as luck would have it, my period went missing after only three copulations. That sobered me up in a hurry, and I knew I was in deep shit when my period didn't arrive for the second month in a row. I was so afraid of what Ian would do, tell, or think of me, that I didn't even think of asking him to help or to advise me. I didn't and our lives were tattered.

I went home and confessed to my parents what their stupid daughter had done with her life. My father went to talk with Richard's parents and explained the hard facts of their son's and his daughter's life in college to them. Richard's parents went to talk to him and asked him to get married and give a name to their grandson. Richard adamantly refused to throw his life away—his own words—for a stupid girl who didn't even know how to take care precautions not to get pregnant with a brat. It wasn't his problem, he said; he wasn't in love, wouldn't marry me, and that was all.

My father didn't agree with Richard; he was old school and he had always thought that if you put your dick in any woman's pussy and she becomes pregnant, that it's your obligation to take care of the mother and child. So he took his twelve gauge two barreled shotgun, put it in his truck, went to the town where the college is, waited for him, and convinced him to marry me or else, one late evening. We married and I wished I had remained a single mother after a few months.

C---The gap between siblings widens

Ellen, my husband's sister and double sister-in-law is one year younger than me, so I have known her well since before school. She had had always a streak of envy towards me. Everyone knew her as we grew up together in a small town before and after we left for college. Well, everyone knew everyone else in town. Ellen worked at the ice cream shop in town after class and during summers. It was one of those old-time family-run establishments, and in her case, served her parents as a way to keep her lazy self-occupied.

I always thought she hated me because my big brother was always there for me, while hers didn't give a damn what happened to her. It had always been like that. She was a quiet enough, cute girl, if you like insipid blondes with insipid faces; those kinds of faces that don't say anything to you when you see them. She later became colorful and showy, without being beautiful when she was growing up through her teens and afterward; the kind of woman most men like to marry. I didn't think my brother would be one of them, and knowing what I know now, I see that I was right and he was wrong.

With my reckless behavior in college and my foul ways with my brother, I ruined not only my life, but his also. I got pregnant and it was only my ego that was bruised at first, and my whole body was bruised after a few months into my marriage. My soul sank when he, my brother, married the little tramp. I just couldn't forgive him his betrayal but then, betrayal to whom? I was his sister, married to his brother-in-law, whom was he betraying by marrying Ellen? I thought it was my hormones taking possession of my mind and driving me insane at that moment.

As I said, after my brother graduated, got a job with a big agribusiness, and immediately married the big slut, the vixen, the bitch, and went west to work, she went with him of course, not to work as she was the lazy one, but to live off and ruin him. How do I know most of this if we hardly talked to each other; by hearing my parents talk about it, or directly asking my mother about my brother's life.

Now that I think things through the passing of time, I never even loved my husband; I mean I was never 'in love' with him. He was only an accomplice on my short wild days at first, and that was because I knew him from our hometown since we were kids. I had never suspected him to have such a nasty, violent, unpleasant, and dangerous nature.

I always knew something was missing in our lives, Ian's and mine. We were both married, we both have children, and no matter how rough the times at our homes were, we never discussed divorce, not with each other, of course, as we were on just civilized speaking terms, but also not with our respective spouses, or even in a whispered comment to our parents.

Now that I know we never were 'in love' with our spouses, worst of all, we apparently never ever loved them, not even as a friend. We not in love and I force myself to ask the question 'why did we continue to be married for so many years?' I know my own answer; I was afraid, deadly afraid of my husband, but Ian? What made him live with a woman who only wanted his money and all that that money brings, and foremost, make his life as miserable as she could.

I had seen her doing that to Ian in front of the whole family; I can't even say her given name, that shrew, that harpy woman who always had something to complain about, making her own son blush with shame at family gatherings. My brother always looked at her with grief and disregard at those times, and I had seen her own son tell her to shut the fuck up and take his father by the shoulders and take him out of his mother's whining presence. I felt embarrassed when seeing and hearing how that mare, that whore, that shameless hussy, disparaged my brother during those times.

We didn't know it at the time, but things were on their way to getting resolved; not from one day to the next, but they would be resolved, and the solution was to come from the old country, one of our ancestor's countries. It had been a long time since the whole family was reunited, but it was a special occasion; a lawyer had come to our parents' home with a request from a Scottish solicitor. This is the beginning of our new story.

##########

All my parents' offspring, their respective spouses, small and adult children, were coming to our parents' home during Thanksgiving week. Before dinner one night, my father asked us to gather in the dining room. Once there, he told us he had received a call from a lawyer who had received a letter from a solicitor in Scotland, the old country.

In the letter, father said, the Scottish lawyer made a request on behalf of his sick and with little time to live client, one Sean McIllroy, that some family from America, the only one he has, go to his town and distribute his belongings according to he law and the terms of his last will, as soon as possible. Mr. McIllroy was ninety four years old, so time was short.

Father broke the silence, "OK, boys and girls, what do you say, what do we do?"

We suddenly started talking all at once, and instead of having a civilized conversation, there was a cacophony of noises where no one understood anything that the others were saying or trying to say. I swiftly looked over to where Ian stood, separated from the rest of us with a drink in his hand and a sardonic look on his eyes.

"Boys, girls; please speak one at a time, so that we know where everyone stands on this matter," Father said, trying to put some semblance of order in the discussion.

My husband, Richard, was the first to talk, "First of all, who's the old fellow; I mean I know he's family, but I have never heard of him before."

"OK, Mom, you tell them, he's family on your side," said my father.

"Well, he's the son of my mother's cousin. My grandparents and my parents kept contact with their family in the old country for a while, but then, with things being what they are, they all lost touch."

"Well, that's enough for me; we're not interested in going to some God forsaken place." Richard was as delicate as ever, meaning he was as gross as ever.

The other boys, my younger siblings, the twins, wouldn't go to a long trip alone and they wouldn't go without their families; so they decided then and there for them to put an end to the issue.

I asked Mother and Father what would they do, and they answered not only me, but all of us, that they wouldn't go, not because they hadn't the money or the desire. Simply put, they wouldn't go because mother's arthritis had flared up recently and he wouldn't leave her home alone.

Father, then looking around, said, "Well that fixes things, I'll let know the lawyer we're not interested so he..."

Then the bomb exploded. Ian, without separating from the wall where he was leaning against and listening to the conversation in which had not intervened until then, suddenly softly said, "I'll go to Scotland."

"What, are you insane?" shrieked the good for nothing hussy that was his wife.

"Nope"

"What about me, your son, YOUR WORK?" she was still shrieking.

"Well, I have some vacation time due me, at least a couple months, in regard to my work. About my son...what do you say, Son, could you be without your father a couple weeks?"

"Yeah sure, Dad, go and enjoy yourself. You need it and don't worry about me. I'm not a baby; I'm nineteen." I looked my quiet nephew with new respect.

Ian then turned to his wife and said, "As for you, you do as you have been doing for the last twenty years, whatever you want, and spending the money I earn. If that's not enough for you, you can get a job, get to work, and earn your money."

Addressing Father, "Please call the lawyer tomorrow and tell him I'll leave on the first flight to London," now if you all will excuse me...

With that, Ian left his glass on the table and exited the familiar dining room and the house. His footsteps were lost in the silence of the night.

A blanket of silence fell over the house which was broken by the rude laughter of my husband to his sister, "Ha, ha, ha, ha, huah, huah, huah, that's for you, your spineless husband, ha, ha, ha." And while he laughed at his sister, tears of laughter were falling from his eyes.

That's when I spoke, "Father, would you tell the lawyer hat there will be two of us going to Scotland."

D---The trip

The trip began with in ominous silence. Seated in the plane one next to each other, I hardly spoke to my brother at first; I was as angry with him as I had been for the last twenty one years, and the worst thing is that I shouldn't be. I was thinking about what he had done to me to make me angry? Nothing, then why was I so pissed at him all these years, if the first name to come to my head when the twins were born and one of them was a boy, was to name him Ian.

He was morose, glum, and uncommunicative, as if traveling with me and sharing something of our lives, even a trip, was distasteful to him; I had asked for the window seat, and he said no when the stewardess offered him a drink after takeoff, took a magazine that he had bought at an airport newsstand from his bag and acted as if he was reading for several minutes, then closed the magazine, leaned the seat back, closed his eyes, and made believe he was sleeping.

I wanted to cry in mourning as I looked to the sky outside through the plane's small window; here we were, what you should be considered as two mature people, and siblings above everything else no less, barely speaking to the other and both hurting inside. I was, and am sure he was hurting, because I was hurting too, and because I could see the hurt in him, in the expression on his face, and in his eyes the few times we got together in our parents' home. The reflection of his suffering soul was in the back of his eyes. How could have we reached this point? I fleetingly looked at him by my side, his elbow touching mine in the cramped space, and I intuitively knew that he wasn't sleeping; his eyelids didn't have the rest a really sleeping person has; they had the subtle flickering of someone pretending to sleep, and the muscles of his jaw were clenching and unclenching at the same time. As much I love him, I knew in that instant that it has to be me who broke the ice if we're going to bond again after so many years.

I know it is always we women who try to mend things with our men; even the best of them can't budge. It's a macho thing with them not to ask for forgiveness, admit they were wrong, or say 'excuse me'; they only relent when they're in need of sex, and need their wife or girlfriend to relieve them of blue balls. That's when they are nice and good men. Beware of them, women, when they are the other way.

Ian, besides being a good person, unhappy maybe, but a good person, is also my big brother, so it all boils down to a case of hardheaded stubbornness in our case. I got the idea to approach him with this when dinnertime came. The transatlantic flight was over the ocean, when the stewardesses went from row to row offering drinks and asking for food preferences around 10 PM, and Ian made it look like he was waking up. I couldn't resist the temptation to molest him a little, in a kind way, of course, and said to him, "Oh, big brother, how lucky that you're awake; would you let me pass so I could go to the toilet and empty my bursting bladder?"

Oh my God, as a kid with the hand in the proverbial cookie jar, his face suddenly went a deep red and his behavior showed different emotions. He rapidly stood up against the backrest and murmured something I didn't understand, but it was something about being sorry, you could have awakened me, not wait, blah, blah, blah. I put my back toward him, and making as if I was stuck passing by his front, made my bottom rub against his pubis. If he was red before, he was now a red purple when I threw a look at him after I was in the aisle. My heart was pounding madly.

When I came back to my row, Ian stood up and quickly stepped into the aisle to let me pass and take my seat. I couldn't stop smiling, and when I entered between the seats, I turned and softly said, 'Thank you, big brother'.

That's when the steward came to our row and asked what we wanted. Ian, who knows my likes, ordered for the both of us as if we were an old couple together. He turned to me when the steward left and, red as a tomato again, said, "Sorry, Sis, I had no right to ask..."

My eyes were full of tears and I told him, "That's alright, big brother, you have all the rights with me."

He looked at my face strangely, and I thought 'where did that come from?'. I had never said the likes of this, not even to my husband of more than twenty years.

When the stewardess brought the tray with the food on it, we started to eat in silence, locked up in our own thoughts; I was thinking that this was the perfect opportunity to get our rapport back; we were alone and together for the first time in what, eons? We were getting ourselves out, at least for the moment, from our everyday lives, from bed companions that were only that, didn't even make love with, and who we didn't want to live with anymore, so why not take the opportunity by the nose and at least become the siblings that we were during our early years.

We ate in complete silence, both absorbed in our own thoughts. When the stewardess took the used trays and asked us if we needed anything else, we answered in unison, "No, thank you."

Then she commented, "Just let us now if you or your wife need anything. We're at your disposal. Good night."

We looked at each other, our eyes telling the other things the mouths wouldn't let out, and when the cabin lights went out and only the reading lights were dimly shining, darkness became almost total as I took my brother's hand in mine and touched his fingers with mine for the first time in years. His body stiffened at first, then relaxed with a sigh at the same time he squeezed my hand with his.

I gave a sigh and leaned my head on his shoulder, softly asking, "May I, Husband."

He squeezed harder my hand in his and I felt something wet on my forehead, and when I touched it with my right hand, it felt like a river was falling on me. My hand then went up, and I could feel tears all over his cheeks as I touched his face. He was silently crying like a baby.

Here we were, two mature people, well advanced in our forties and crying together like the two lost souls that we were in some way, who had met up again. We overcame our emotional display after a few minutes and dried each other's tears.

"You know I had always loved you, don't you, big brother?" I very quietly said.

"Did you?" he teased me under his breath.

"You know I did; you know I do." It was a whisper this time.

"Then why we didn't even speak to the other for ages; why were you always so angry with me?" His voice was soft.

"I don't know; I was young, stupid, and inexperienced; didn't know even how to wash my panties or clean my nose, metaphorically speaking, of course, then my own issues at home... I'm so sorry, Ian."

"That's OK now; we're together again, at least for a while," he whispered so softly that I almost didn't hear him.

"What I couldn't understand all these years was why you had to marry Richard; I know, I know, he knocked you up, and Dad used his persuasive methods, but you had lots of good fellows to choose from, even going wild, why that jerk?"

He didn't know how that question made me feel. I felt so cheap and hurt, and I couldn't tell him that it was because of him, could I? But I wanted retribution; his words were salt in my wounds, my shattered ego, as well as other parts of my body, claiming vengeance; I couldn't keep quiet and let the wounds heal. It seemed as if I had learned nothing in the last twenty years.

"Yeah, I married a jerk, and you don't know half of it, but you quickly went and married his good for nothing of a sister." I was seething, my jealousy evident, but not to him.

"I married your husband's sister because..."

"Your wife, you mean," I said, with sarcasm.

"Please, don't fight with me again," he said, with a tired voice, he looked 60 not 45. "No, I mean your husband's sister, and if I could she wouldn't even be my ex-wife in the future."

"Don't talk nonsense, you aren't even divorced." I was uncontrollably happy.





"No, I'm not yet, but this trip is the perfect excuse to do so when I get back. I'm not going back to my former life, and least of all, not with my soon to be former wife."

"And I married her," he said, following the conversation as if I hadn't interrupted him, "Because of you, to get back at you. You had hurt me, and I wanted to hurt you in the same way. We were so stupid..." and his voice was lost in the silence of the airplane cabin.

I was so astounded, astonished, amazed, shocked, you name it; I couldn't even open my mouth to speak. It was several minutes later that I did react.

"But you didn't say anything about..."

"Of course not, I didn't want to arouse suspicion, I put everything in the hands of a very capable attorney."

"No, I don't mean that; well, yes that too, what I mean is you never, ever told me..."

"What, that I love you?"

"What about your son, are you going to abandon him too"?

"Don't change the subject. No, I will leave his mother, and he has the option of either staying with her or coming with me. He goes to college next year anyway, so he'll leave the nest and just thinking of my being alone in the same house with his mother gives me the creeps."

I couldn't react; hell, how in hell do you react when your brother tells you that he loves you and he has done so for the last twenty or more years. I squeezed his hand again, leaned my head on his shoulder, and with a smile of contentment in the darkness of the cabin, I said to him, "Would you mind if we go to sleep now, Dear, I'm very tired."

E---In Scotland

We arrived at London Heathrow Airport at 07:45 AM. To me, it was the first night in a long time that I had slept and felt rested. How couldn't it be so, if I was sleeping besides a man who loves me and would protect me with his own life? We went to the offices of British Airways at Heathrow after passing passport control and customs to buy two tickets for the 9:50 AM flight to Aberdeen.

At 11:25 AM, we were landing again after a short flight, and went to the rental car company counter in the baggage claim area and were soon on our way to the big northeastern Scottish city of our final destination, the property of our unknown distant relative in the proximity of Alford, almost twenty five miles away.

We ate in an airport restaurant before taking the car and driving on the left-handed side of the country's roads at a leisurely pace. Ian was driving as we talked about the country we were passing by and the uncertainties of the trip may hold for us. We were very careful not to touch any personal issues, although we were going to have to do it at some point, but as with many things in life, there is always the right time and this wasn't it in this case.

We were in the outskirts of the small town in less than an hour I mean 'small' whereas it has only a total resident population of around two thousand. We learned that it was much more important than what at first glance seemed when we investigated the town's characteristics.

Probably due to Alford's relative isolation and large suburban area, there are a large number of services in the village, including three banks, a supermarket, three garages, a bakery, and a wide range of other shops. There is also a dry ski slope, swimming pool, golf course, and public library. Travel to Aberdeen to satisfy other important needs is the usual solution.

We looked for a relatively good place to rest and other service. We found a couple rooms in a four star mixture of a country inn and hotel, near to an old medieval castle, who catered mostly to the numerous tourists who swarm to the place in fair weather. After a good shower, we asked the reception desk for a phone book to get the number of our relative's attorney so we could connect with him. We called to inform him we were in town. He told us he could see us right away, so we asked him for directions to his offices.

It was easy to find his house and we were at his door and ringing his bell fifteen minutes later. He opened the door a few minutes later and effusively greeted us. He invited us to enter to a well-furnished office after the necessary introductions, and we were soon seated in two comfortable armchairs.

He asked if we wanted some refreshments or tea, and when we declined, he took a thick folder that was in front of him, opened it, and said: "As you must know by now, I'm your distant relative's solicitor and sometimes administrator..." He explained to our puzzled faces, "A Solicitor in the UK is the equivalent, mostly, to an attorney at law or Lawyer, as you say in the USA. I'm also his administrator, but only concerning matters of law and legal documents; I'm not an accountant, so I don't keep his money accounts."

We looked at each other, Ian and I; we didn't know how to proceed, but Mr. Hotchkins took the initiative and told us it would be better if we could arrange a visit to our old cousin's home as soon as possible, as he put it, because he wanted to know us before he passed away.

It was Ian who spoke up this time and told him we could go right away if he thought important. Mr. Hotchkins looked at his pocket watch and answered that it was a little late since it was getting dark early because it was winter. We agreed to meet at the hotel entrance after breakfast the next morning, from where we were going to visit the old man.

At ten o'clock on the dot the next morning, Mr. Hotchkins was at the hotel's doorstep with his own car. The weather was very awful, bleak, and stormy.

Ian turned the conversation to the weather and asked Mr. Hotchkins; "Is weather always like this in these parts, so cold and unpleasant?"

The solicitor didn't answer right away; we got into his car while he mulled his response, "I thought it better if I took you there myself, as I know the route and the county roads and you don't. About your question about the weather, Sir; today is a very fair winter day, it's almost sunny and temp is at 46.5 degrees, not so bad."

"Not so bad?" I said.

"No, not so bad for winter. Now with respect to your relative; he is very old. As you know, he is over ninety four and doesn't take well to unknown visitors, so it's my duty to present you to the old rascal. He is very anxious to know his young relatives from America."

We were impressed by Mr. Hotchkins verbiage, and his not so subtle friendliness; we thought nothing of it at the moment; we understood later.

Ian asked, "The lawyer in America told us it was an urgent matter that we come here. Is Mr. McIllroy very sick?"

"Well, your cousin has the problems that come with age. He is in overall good health, but he is as a candle whose wax is running very low and out, and the wick is losing strength in its luminosity and seems to be flicking off at times."

We were silent for a few more miles and when a very large and beautiful house appeared in front of us, the solicitor added, "He is very weak, and it may not be very long before he leaves us."

We got out of the car and went up the stairs to a magnificent oak door. It opened, and there he stood, leaning on the arm of a mature lady, who we later learned was his housekeeper, and was in charge not only the people who worked in the house, but also the expenses and the home finances. We waited till the solicitor spoke.

"Mr. McIllroy, may I introduce you this two young people from America?"

A deep and raspy voice answered him, "Since when, mind you, am I Mr. McIllroy to you instead of Sean?"

"Well, I thought the moment merited a little bit of solemnity," the lawyer answered his apparently old friend undeterred.

"Nonsense, just come in and make the introductions inside. It's too cool outside to be chattering at the front door. Come in, come in. Let's go in front of the fire in the sitting room, Mrs. Murdock."

We followed the old man and his companion to a nice room and once there and all of us were seated in front of the lit fireplace, Mr. Hotchkins made the necessary introductions. "They are the only ones of your American relatives with enough, how I can say it, curiosity...?"

Before the lawyer could continue with his discourse, the raspy old voice, now impatient, cut him off, "That doesn't matter now, that will come later when we get to know ourselves better. Now, ladies first," and turning a little, addressed me, "Whom would you be, my dear."

"She's..." the lawyer was interrupted.

"Be quiet, please; I want to hear the voice of this nice niece," the old man said.

"I'm Moira, Moira Martin..."

"Martin?" a couple of bushy eyebrows rose on his brow.

"Well, I was nee Moira O'Rourke; Martin is my husband's family name."

"Oh, I see, and you would be?" he asked, turning his head around to my brother.

"I'm Ian O'Rourke, and McIllroy is my fourth surname.

"And apart from your parents, who as far as I was I know, didn't come here because your mother is unable to travel, do I have any other kindred?"

"Yes, we have other kin who weren't interested in coming so far; as for my parents', mother has arthritis and it is very difficult for her to travel, especially this far away." I saw that Ian was annoyed by the questioning.

"Bear with me, young man; I'm very old as you can see, and have my own motives in seeing how you answer my questions; I thank you very much for coming, and if you'll excuse me, I'm very tired and would like to rest now."

"Yes, of course, sorry if we..." Ian was trying to be calm.

"No, it's alright, would the both of you be so kind and come to eat with me tomorrow? Would noonish be a good time for you?"

"Yes, of course," we both answered at once, rose from our seats, said good day to him, me with a kiss on his cheek, Ian with a handshake, and we left with the lawyer behind us.

As a comment on our way to town, Mr. Hotchkins said, "Don't mind the old boy; he is a good fellow, and by the way he asked me to tell you to come alone, he wants to talk with you two."

So that was all, we talked about the cold, the weather, and other mundane topics on the way.

The weather was worse the next day. It had snowed lightly during the night, temperatures had fallen to 38 degrees, and a fine drizzle was falling with a humidity of almost 100%. What the hell did I expect? It was December and we weren't in Palms Spring; we were on the northeast coast of Scotland by the North Sea. It was good weather to catch a cold or something worse, and in a foreign country.

Trying to read a map and drive at the same time is not recommended, especially in the tight lanes of rural England. Trying to drive with a female, even if she is your dear sister, reading a map and giving you snap directions to bear right at the junction isn't recommended either, although the idea would have seemed to have been the right one for a short while. The road was well maintained, with clipped hedges lining the steep banks that were only relieved where a gate into fields appeared.

Ian was driving the rental car, and I was now quietly looking out the window and thinking; I was mad because after my last, "Wait a minute I think we should turn at...," Ian had stopped the car, taken the map from my hands, closed it, and kept driving. The car was moving along a single lane road in an extremely rural area of Alford Valley. The late afternoon sun shined on the trees and distant farms, cows, sheep, and barns.

We went to see our old relative almost all week; he was old, but very sharp, and his questions were always to the point. He mostly wanted to know about our family and how we had fared since his cousins migrated to America, and we told him all we knew about our ancestors. While taking tea and sherry after dinner one day, he surprised us asking about our own families and lives.

We looked at each other, surprised, and didn't know what to tell the old buzzard. He had a sly smile and said, "Don't worry; your secrets are safe with me. I have my own reasons to hear from you about your actual lives."

So, Ian and I gave the old boy the sanitized version of our lives; he laughed at some anecdotes, and when we were saying goodbye to go back to the hotel, he took two manila envelopes and gave them to us to read at the hotel, then told us not to come the next day because he was going to be very busy with his administrator, Mr. Hotchkins.

Once in the hotel, I told Ian that I wasn't sleepy and would he have a drink with me; we did and while seated in the sofas, we opened the envelopes to read their contents. Our surprise was huge; the results of two researches on our lives commissioned by the old codger two weeks prior were in the envelopes. We had to laugh, because except for our activities in the bedroom (which were none on my part and as I later knew it was the same for Ian), everything else was included. Yes, he was a pretty smart fellow.

F---The burial

We never saw our old cousin alive anymore. I assume he died a death of old age; he was 94 years old, going on 95, after all. His administrator told us he was in bed with a bad cold and that it would be a few days before he could see us again; it never happened. He died in his sleep five days after he gave us the manila envelopes with the results of an investigation of our lives.

As his only relatives in Scotland, tradition dictates that we take care of all matters relating to the funeral rites and burial. It was something unexpected that we had not thought of; my brother was not a religious man to begin with, and hadn't entered a church since his marriage, and that was only because his wife's family had insisted on a religious ceremony. It was the same with me; everybody in my family was, or is, Catholic on the Irish side, and confessed Presbyterians on the Scottish side. I had a lax religious education; it had been a mixture of both, in fact, so I didn't practice either one.

And there we were. Old McIllroy had been an institution in the region, not only for his age, but for his vast fortune. As in most old and backwoods Europe people of all backgrounds went to pay their respects to the family. To us, Ian and me, the Catholic funeral was a kind of a nightmare, not because there was nothing to be afraid of, but as that part of the country are mostly affiliated with the Protestant Church of Scotland, the little Catholic Church has no permanent priest. There is an itinerant priest, almost like in the Middle Ages, who serves several parishes on a rotating schedule, unless there is a specific event that can't take place without his presence, such as weddings, baptisms, or funerals.

We were respectfully informed by the people of the area that this was going to be a burial as in the old days. The old McIllroy housekeeper took care to send for the priest first thing. The Archdiocese told her they would send for Father O'Reilly who was two days away, and wouldn't be able to get to Alford before the third day, so in the interim, we would be able to get to know most people who came to the house to pay their respects to the deceased's kinfolks, meaning us, the two cousins from America.

The house staff had rearranged most of the furniture from the parlor and dining room in order to accommodate chairs and a couple tables where mourners and visitors in general placed the meals they brought when they came to pay their respects to the deceased and family. Our old cousin was taken to the funeral home, where he was to be dressed in his best clothes after his body had been embalmed.

As is usual in those cases, the family stays at the home of deceased to receive condolences most of the time. This was a part of the process we could never have imagined. It was a brutal sacrifice for us both in that we were forced to spend ten hours a day kind of meeting people we didn't know or know of us. When the day's visitors had left, which happened at about six o'clock, the rooms were closed, the employees went to their rooms, and we went back to the hotel, cold and tired, to take off the dark clothes we wore by tradition, take a hot bath, eat something, and go to bed.

The next day was a repeat of the previous one, and when Father O'Reilly arrived on the third day, along with the employees of the undertaker from Aberdeen to prepare the funeral with the guidance and support offered by the priest.

Catholic funeral, burial, or cremation arrangements cannot be finalized until the deceased's family has had an opportunity to coordinate the desired rite pertaining to a Catholic funeral and burial with the priest. It could be a full Mass, a visit to the funeral home to offer prayers, or a simple graveside service. The priest then asked us if there were any special requirements on our part. We admitted to our absolute ignorance about the deceased's wishes, and suggested that his lawyer, Mr. Hotchkins, should know.

We sent for him so he could clarify whether or not Mr. McIllroy had left any testamentary instructions about his final disposition. While the Catholic Church accepts cremation, the body of the cremains must be present in the church at a Mass of Christian Burial. In this case, Mr. Hotchkins informed us all that there was a clause in the will concerning the final disposition of the body. In the lawyer's words, his client had said, "I don't want to be cremated; I prefer to wait and see what happens as I maybe able to dodge the flames of hell." Despite the conditions, that caused everyone present to laugh.

We then followed the priest's directions with regard to the Catholic funeral ritual, which generally consists of carrying the body or cremains of the deceased into the Church, the celebration of a Mass of Christian Burial, followed by the interment, with a graveside commitment preferably in consecrated ground of a Catholic cemetery.

The day before the funeral, usually in the afternoon or evening, the body is viewed at a wake or prayer service where friends pay their last respects to the family and prayers may be offered for the deceased and for the bereaved,. The whole Christian community offers its prayers for God's mercy for the deceased and His strength for the bereaved.

It was raining hard in the small cemetery after the Mass, when we went to bury our cousin and I was soaked to the bones. I wasn't feeling so well, in fact, and I thought I could get the flu. The week had been very cold and rainy and we were all drenched to the skin, umbrellas being insufficient to shield us from the gusts of wind and the rain that fell. We returned to the hotel when the funeral was over, and I noticed that my temperature was very high, but I thought that a hot bath and a good night's sleep would fix everything. I was wrong.

2--- Ian

G---The sickness.

I had been hearing her cough all night and the door between the rooms of the suite wasn't opening. I went out to the corridor and knocked on her door. At dawn, Moira wasn't sure if she had imagined it or if someone had actually knocked on her bedroom door during the night. She couldn't think clearly and she thought she heard someone say, 'Come in' but wasn't sure it had been her. The doorknob rattled several times, but the door stayed closed and she vaguely remembered that she had locked the door when they came back from the cemetery.

Fearing for my sister's well-being, I went to the hotel reception and asked the night clerk for a master key. I walked in once the clerk opened the door and just stared at my baby sister. After touching her forehead to see if she had a fever and feeling that she was burning, I went to the bathroom took, a towel from the rack, soaked it in cold water, went back to the room put it on my sister's forehead, and asked the concierge to call a doctor for her as a matter of urgency.

"Oh, Ian, "Moira said, in between coughs, "I feel like crap, I've been up most of the night coughing my head off."

"I know, I heard you, now be quiet. A doctor will be here soon."

I touched her forehead and she was feverish, delirious, and babbled nonsense such as "Let me die, Ian. If I'm lucky I'll die once and for all so I wouldn't feel anything anymore."





"Don't be silly, you're gonna be alright." I was scared.

Being a small country town, the doctor was here in half an hour. He took a look at Moira, asked some me questions, then stepped forward holding the end of a stethoscope in his hand. He reached forward, modestly lifted the bed quilt, and placed the instrument above Moira's left breast.

Listening intently, he moved it in her cleavage directly between her breasts; then on the ribs below her breasts. Doctor Morgan seemed satisfied with his findings so far, hung the scope around his neck again, and ordered me out of the room. I was like a caged animal in the corridor, full of fear for my sister so far away from home and family, waiting for the doctor to come out and explain what was happening to my sister to me.

The doctor called me in after a half hour and explained my sister's sickness. "How is she, Doctor; is she gonna be alright?" I was desperate.

The doctor, a man of around sixty years of age, with white hair and a dark stained mustache, asked me before answering any questions. "You're from the colonies, aren't you? Are you relatives of old Sean McIllroy?"

"Yes, to both your questions; now would you be kind enough to tell me what my sister has?" I was seething and barely polite.

The aged doctor was immune to the irate family of his patients, and he had a strange look in his eyes, "I don't want to intrude, young man, but are you, ehem... intimate with your sister? Now, don't get me wrong, what I'm asking is, have you seen lately your sister's body as... on the beach?"

I didn't understand; here we were, in my sister's room, she's sick, and this old goat is asking me questions about decency; when I was about to punch him in the face, he said, "I have a reason to ask this questions, you see I had to undress her to listen to her heart, lung, and bowel sounds to see if there were any problems with her heart or her lungs. There is nothing wrong with her insides besides lung congestion, and we can treat that with antibiotics, but she's suffering in her mind..."

"What the hell are you talking about? Are you saying she's mad or something?" I was frantic with despair.

The old doctor moved his head from side to side, "I didn't say anything about madness, did I? I only said she may be hurting in her mind as well as her body. Come see for yourself."

Without another word, the doctor, with me at his side, went to the bedside, pushed the covers to the foot of the bed, and uncovering my sister's body, I could see her body full of bruises caused by blows. My expression was one of shock, horror, and hate; I swore to myself that I would give my son of a bitch of a brother-in-law the same medicine.

I couldn't talk; I had a lump in my throat, and swallowed with difficulty. "No, I haven't seen anything of this." I could barely whisper.

"Well," the doctor said, "I'm going to give you a prescription and instructions for you to provide the medication to her. She needs rest, care, and love most of all. Her fever, as I said, is caused by lung congestion provoked by catching cold and her defenses being down by stress. She needs to rest and drink plenty of liquids, take her medication, and sleep all she wants. I'll come to visit day after tomorrow."

"Thank you, Doctor. How long do you think will it take for her to be able to travel?"

"To be on the safe side, I'd say between twenty and thirty five days."

"Thank you again, Doctor."

I was remorseful at not having been closer to my sister all these past years. I couldn't even remember what the reason of our estrangement had been, but it should have been nothing major since it had left no trace in my memory. We had always been close, closer than most siblings, and I loved her like I had never loved another woman ... loved? I looked at her, sick and delirious in bed, and saw her as she was when she was a teenager maturing into womanhood; her freshness, her joy of life, the love of my life.

I staggered as if I had received a blow on the head and had to grab the door frame to steady myself as this thought surfaced in my mind. I loved her; I was in love with her. My eyes were suddenly full of tears, and I was sobbing silently as my sobs and anguish tore my chest apart. My little sister had been used as a punching bag, and now she was sick and had only me at her side. I promised myself that I would take care of her for the rest of our natural lives if she accepted me.

I was a little calmer now with this promise, but with my heart full of hate, hate for the whole of my wife's family, her included. I was tired of my nasty wife, her continuous nagging, her bitchiness, constant complaining, and now my no-good of brother-in-law was beating my sister, my sweet little sister who I had once promised to protect, who knew for how long?

I then remembered that long ago day in my college dorm room when she had found me in bed with a girl, and that had been when her attitude towards life had completely changed. She was wild for a time, and then got pregnant from that son of a bitch. She had become cold and distant with me; barely speaking to me at the family gatherings, and only if I talked to her first. She didn't even go to my wedding, claiming she was sick. Then...then maybe she loved me too.

I hurried now and took the prescription from the nightstand and after calling the front desk, I asked for someone to be sent to the pharmacy to buy and bring back the drugs. I asked for hot tea to be brought to my sister's room and when the drugs arrived, I set the tea and medicine they had brought on the nightstand.

Moira felt me trying to get her to sit up so that I could give her the tea and antibiotics, and she said, "No please, just let me die in peace."

"Nonsense, little sister, you aren't going to die. I won't let you; I love you and need you alive and well."

I wasn't taking no for an answer, and soon I had her in an upright position. I held her up with one hand and put the pill and tablets in her mouth with the other, then brought the cup of tea to her lips. I could feel her fever; she was burning up. I laid her down on the pillow after she had swallowed everything, and I urged her to go to the hospital, but she flat out refused. I felt it was better to let her have her way, and do what I could while she got better.

It was going to take a time for the medicine to reduce her fever, so I stayed at her bedside all night, putting cold wet clothes on her forehead and armpits, changing them every few minutes and giving her the drugs every six hours. I then brought my own bed clothes from my room and prepared to take care of my sister day and night for as long as was necessary for her health to improve so we could discuss our future.

Moira's night was one full of nightmares, the fever had had cracked her lips and her thirst was insufferable. Trying to alleviate her suffering, I constantly wet her lips with a piece of cotton and dropped cold water into her mouth with a little spoon from time to time.

There was a soft and loving voice intruding in her feverish and turbulent dreams that night, telling her something she hadn't heard in years, a voice that told her through the fog of her fevered brain that 'he loved her, needed her alive and well', but she was so confused that she couldn't discern whose voice it was and couldn't put a face to it.

Moira was as weak as a newborn lamb the next morning, and she swallowed a few sips of the cool liquid when she felt a glass at her lips. She sort of saw my hand put some pills in her mouth and did her best to take them. She managed to swallow them with more fresh water.

I made my sister keep taking the water, a little at a time, until the glass was empty, and finally laid her back down on the bed. "You get some rest; I've seen dead cattle in the west in better shape," I told her, trying to joke and she tried to smile; both failed. She was sleeping again in less than a minute but now the fever had reduced somewhat and her dreaming was quieter, less agitated, and her coughs had decreased with the medicine. Nonetheless, I didn't move from my sister's bedside, watching her and guarding her sleep.

I couldn't stop looking at my sister with love, not just brotherly love, as that it was a different kind of love. Sentiments were stirring inside me that I had never felt before. At some time in the long vigil, I allowed himself to lift the covers off the bed and look at my sister's body, emaciated by the fever and with multicolored bruises from blows and older beating marks which made it clear that my sister's mistreatment had occurred over a long time.

The day continued in the same way; Moira would wake briefly, I'd give her the medication with sips of water and make her eat some fresh fruit juice, then she went back to sleep. The fever was almost normal by the end of the day, and Moira awoke to find me dozing in a chair beside her bed. I was startled and opened my eyes when a felt the touch of her hand on my knee, and found my sister faintly smiling at me.

"Hey, little sister, how're you feeling?" I croaked.

"A little better, but I feel like I've been beaten up or a herd of cattle has passed over my body; every muscle and bone in my body hurts," she said, with a small voice.

"OK, we have a long way to go, but don't worry, I'm going to be here with you to the end. We now need for you to get well, and you need to take your medication, drink a lot of fluids, rest, and sleep, as the doctor said."

She raised her hand a little to silence me, "But you must go back home and..."

"Let me be very clear, little sister; I'm here with you and I will be as long as necessary. I have nothing or anybody to go back to; you're all I have now."

H---Siblings bonding again

I had spent most of the night while caring for my sister trying to analyze my feelings for her. This trip had been cathartic, and I now knew that I loved her, and had always loved her since she was born, I had loved her little face, her little hands; I had loved rocking her in my arms when our mother allowed it. I had loved her as we grew up and I had always been careful so that nothing would happen to her; and I now knew that I had failed her in the end. The bruises all over her body told me so.

Moira rested better that night, and when she awoke the next morning and saw me, her brother, looking at her strangely as if she had something on her that I didn't understand.

"Good morning, big brother." Her voice was still feeble, but stronger than the day before.

"Good morning, my love; how are you feeling today?" My voice was thick with emotion and had a touch of wonder as if I were thinking something I didn't understand.

I saw Moira's weak body shiver as she heard the words 'my love' though. "A little better still; my body hurts all over, and my head seems like it's full of cotton."

"Those are the after effects of high fever that you had; you're going to get better now."

Moira looked at me with huge eyes, her pupils dilated by the fever, and I saw something I had forgotten; her eyes were amazing. Whoever said 'the eyes are the window to the soul' must have had Moira in mind, I thought. They were always so expressive; if it has always been hard for her to lie to me, how could it be that I hadn't noticed her suffering for so many years?

She shared a lot of her life with me because we were so close; her joys and excitement, her fears, and her sorrows. I liked to think that I could read her like a book, but then again, she's a woman, and I'm not. There's only so much I can know about her, and so much I won't ever know. Even so, there's a lot about Moira that only I know. She had spent a lot of time swearing me to secrecy during our talks outside the ice cream shop, to our hikes down to the creek, and to our shopping trips. I've also done my fair share of asking her to take the oath.

That was the moment Dr. Morgan happened to knock on Moira's door and break the magic spell. I opened the door and he entered the room.

"Good morning; how is my American patient feeling today?"

"Good morning, Doctor; a little better, thank you," Moira answered, at which time I added my greeting and thanks.

The doctor asked me to leave the room so he could carefully check her with privacy. He came out a half an hour later, and said, "Well, my friend, the lady is slowly getting better and my recommendations are the same; rest, medicines, some solid food, and lots of love."

"Yes, I'll take care all of those, and thanks again, Doc."

He seemed to think his next words carefully. "As you well know, besides her pulmonary problem, the lady has injuries and lacerations on her body that indicate physical abuse over a prolonged period of time. As a doctor, by law I have to report it to the police and the court here in Scotland, and I have done so."

I was flabbergasted, "But I don't want her to be in any kind of trouble. I mean couldn't you just wait until we go back to the States, and she'll make a police report there? She's going to get a divorce anyway, and she's in no condition to go out right now ..."

"She won't have to do anything. I talked to the police constable and to the judge in Aberdeen; I'll make the official report as I'm the medical examiner in town. The constable will take pictures of her injuries and we'll go to court with everything and get the documents filed. It will then be easier for her to get her divorce with this evidence."

"Have you told her about the procedure?"

"Not yet, you're not the batterer, are you, by the way?"

My eyes opened like two saucers and I answered with anguish, "God, no."

"I didn't think so. I can see how you love her and wouldn't hit her in that or any other way; but I had to ask the question," he told me. "Now let's go inform the lady; it will take a few minutes and we won't inconvenience her too much."

So we, rather they, explained the procedures to her, and everything was finished an hour later.

Before leaving, the doctor told us we would have the dossier ready to file in a week, and it would be legally recognized in the States.

She looked at me with emotion and love in her eyes after they left, "Thank you, Ian."

"It's not a big deal. I mean it's my duty and I couldn't let you be sick and stay alone..."

"No," she cut me off and asked me to lean toward her, and hugging me around the waist, she put her chin on my right shoulder. "I mean 'thank you' for everything you are to me," she whispered.

My heart thumped hard, "Everything? What do you mean?"

Looking down and putting my hands around her back, I hugged her. "I don't know," she stammered, "Just...everything....I don't know...you've always been there for me. You never made me feel like a burden, or like I was bothering you, before my...my madness. You didn't seem bothered even when I had a friend over to play as a child, like that when time you painted our toenails and let us do yours." She smiled and raised her beautiful eyebrows over the saddest pair of eyes I've ever seen.

I tried to break the sad moment, and the only way that occurred to me was to laugh and say, "Hey! That was our little secret!" My voice rose in mock anger, and I pointed my finger at her in warning, but I quickly broke into a smile.

Moira reached for my finger, pulled it to her lips, and kissed the tip, resting it there as she breathed out, "Yes, it was our little secret, remember?" She then placed her index finger on my lips, and said, "You were going to teach me how I should give a blow..." Out of instinct, I kissed her finger while swimming in her green eyes.

"Yes, I do remember, I have always remembered." I hoped she didn't hear my heart, but couldn't she if she had her face on my chest? It was jumping out of my chest.

"Ahem," I cleared my throat, and tried to disengage from her, but she stopped me by hugging me tighter. I took a look at my watch; "It's, uh, almost noon. I have to give your medicine and you need to eat something..."

"I'm not hungry, my love, just tired; maybe later."

"I brought you some hot milk and the medicine. I also brought you some toast in case you think you can eat something." I watched as she slowly propped herself up and took the offered items. "I'm glad you're here with me, Brother."

"Me too; now here are your pills, along with a glass of hot milk to get them down." I just couldn't call her 'my love' in response to her. What if I misunderstood her? She slept more calmly all afternoon and I woke her up around six o'clock to give her medicine and to force her to take some kind of solid food. She had slept well and color was slowly returning to her face.

I tried to make myself think that although she seemed to be better and the fever had subsided, she still had a long way to fully recover. She had at least ten more days of remaining in bed, and at least another ten to fifteen before she could go outside her room and the house. Since the weather was bad and getting worse by the day, I knew that it was going to be difficult to keep her confined. Nonetheless, I gently shook her to wake her up; her green eyes opened with a puzzled expression, as if she didn't know where she was, and her look had a frightened expression until she saw that it was me.

I cursed under my breath and swore to myself that I was going to make her husband pay a thousand times for the pain he had inflicted on my sister.

I'm sure she knew what was on my mind, because she took my hand in hers and quietly said, "He's not worth it."

I looked at her in surprise, and she smiled her beautiful smile, and before I could say anything, she added, "You are valuable to me, not him, and I don't want to lose you again because of him. Not again."

"Alright; now you must do your best to eat. I asked for room service and they have chicken soup with some noodles and chocolate mousse; your favorite, if I recall correctly."

Her eyes were brimming with tears and said, "Oh, my love, it's been a lifetime since anyone has taken care of me as you're doing."

Nothing surprised me after seeing her lacerated body. I was resolved to change her life and I told her so, "That's the way I'm going to take care of you from now on. You're back under my wing."

Rain suddenly started pelting again, and thunder, accompanied by lightning, made itself known in the sky. A knock on the door at that moment announced 'room service'. I opened the door and the waiter entered, pushing the table with the meal.

I gave the soup to her like to a sick little girl, a spoon at a time, then she took two or three spoonful's of her favorite dessert, and told me that it was enough for now. I took a seat at her bedside and quickly ate my dinner, after which I rolled the table into the corridor to be taken away.

I took a look at my watch and saw it was a little after seven in the evening, an evening that was dark, cold, and rainy outside the window. I took a seat at her bedside and we quietly talked about home, our families, our lives, and burdens we carried every day. We didn't talk about or even mention the future; we were just bonding again after so many years.

The conversation was languishing after a while, our silence was more than the words we spoke, and I was preparing to say goodbye and go to sleep in my room around half past eight, since her fever had subsided, when out of nowhere, she said, "Please stay with me tonight, Brother." It wasn't a romantic plea, rather that of a scared little sister asking for her big brother's protection.

CRACK! BOOOMM.

It was the roar of an angry deity in the skies; it was the voice of Zeus, God of the storm and of the heights, Lord of thunder and lightning, right outside our window. The lights flickered for only a moment, but stayed on. My sister squeezed me tightly at the noise, making herself into a ball as small as possible, as if she were a small animal hiding in a cave. Maybe she thought, as she did when we were small, that if the storm would go away didn't it notice her. I instinctually tightened my hold on her in response to her movement.





"Are you sure?"

She didn't say anything, but quickly nodded her head against my chest.

"Moira," I said, releasing her, and pushing her back so I could look her in the eyes, "Look at me." She looked up, fear evident on her face. "I need to hear you say it. Are you absolutely sure you want me to share a bed with you tonight?"

"Yes."

"Alright, I'll go to my room and get a pair of clean pajamas to change into."

"Please don't delay; I'm afraid to be alone..."

"Don't worry; I'll be back in a jiffy."

I---In bed

It took me less than ten minutes to change into pajamas, put a robe on, and go back to my sister's room.

She looked afraid when she saw me come back, then she smiled as relieved as I'd ever seen her. If I had any doubts about her desire of sharing the bed with me, she cleared them as soon as she reached over to the other side of the bed, grabbed a handful of the bedspread, and pulled it down to show the light blue sheets underneath. "Would you please hold me during the storm, please, pretty please?" My sister's eyes never left mine as she pouted while I laid down beside her, pulling the covers over me.

As a show of respect to her, but also false modesty on my part, as I had seen her tortured naked body just a few hours before, I laid over the sheets and under the bedspread to give her some privacy. I wasn't going to force her about anything in the matter of our intimacy; I'd go where she wanted to go and no further.

She seemed to be uncomfortable and I watched as she tried to position her body; the weight of my body was holding the top sheet that covered her down and she had difficulty turning around. "Please stop being so prudish and get under the sheet so I can move my body, Ian."

I raised my hips and pulled the sheets down before raising my legs and tucking them under the top sheet and the tartan green and dark red bedspread. "Hmmm, that's better, so much better," she sighed, as the bedding lay on our rigid bodies. Not that it was the first time we were together under the sheets; it wasn't. We had slept together many times when we were children, that but now we were adults and she was sick and all, yet she was still a woman that I desired.

She rolled over to face me and I reached up and turned the lamp on my nightstand off. It was the only light in the room. With the lamp turned off, the lightning flashes outside were enough to illuminate the woman in whose bed I lay in from time to time. I could feel more than see a shadow as it crossed in front of my face as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, but I soon felt Moira's hand on the side of my head, stroking my hair, and her fingertips tracing the contours of my face.

"You make me feel as safe now as you did when I was a little girl," she whispered, continuing to stroke my cheek and lips. "Am I safe here with you, big brother?"

"Yes, you'll always be safe with me," I whispered in return, not even thinking of a different possibility.

I was feeling it and was ashamed, but I was getting hard for the first time in a long time. I was insane; she was still wearing the marks of her husband's beatings and mistreatment, and I had no right to make her feel uncomfortable, but it was almost unavoidable lying at her side. Her big and mature breasts pressing together made her cleavage appear near her throat. It may have been my imagination, but I thought I could smell something wafting under the sheets; could it be that she was aroused? Maybe it was her hand, having been in bed for almost forty eight hours without washing, she may have touched her pudenda. Maybe it had leaked onto the sheet. Maybe it was just in my head.

"Good," she replied to my answer. Her hand left my head and she moved near me to kiss me on the corner my mouth this time, lingering for just a moment before backing off and rolling over, putting her back to me. I kept my position on my back and lay there looking at the ceiling as the flashes of lightning spasmodically lit the rococo moldings of the ceiling, casting an endless display of light and shadows. I lay like that for hours, replaying the last week's events in my mind again and again, going forward and backward through the text of our conversations before and after she got sick. I tried to remember her every choice of words, her tones of voice, anything I could think that would give me some point of reference in understanding how she felt and how I should respond.

It was still dark outside in the wee hours of dawn when I was awakened. "Ian" it was a soft whisper, then a little louder, but still softly, "Ian."

"Ye...Yeah?"

"Um..." She wriggled her bottom a little.

"Hell, Sis! I'm sorry!" I had, what to me, was a monstrous erection, and it was poking at her. My dick was out of the slit of my pajama bottom and was pressed into her ass cheeks, or maybe her thigh. I couldn't really tell.

She didn't seem to be upset or annoyed, she only said, "It doesn't matter. It's just a little uncomfortable sleeping that way. Can you do something about it?"

"Want me to go to my room and give you your space, Sis? I'm sorry about that."

"Don't you dare leaving me alone on a night like this!"

I backed up and began to turn over in between my apologies. She immediately reached back and grabbed my hip to stop me. "No! That's not what I mean. Just...I don't know....change its position. Put it in another way...somehow." It was obvious she didn't know what I was supposed to do with my just now not so rampant erection, but I knew what she didn't want. She didn't want for me to go away.

I separated our bodies for just a moment and adjusted my penis against my stomach so that it pointed up tightened by the elastic of my pajamas. Then I settled back in the same position on the bed. My cock was now confined between my abdomen and my sister's lush bottom, with only the fabric of my pajamas separating us. She shivered a little when I was nestled back against her. "Oh my," she muttered, "That's better."

"Are you comfortable now?" I asked, with my dick now harder than it had been ever before.

She wiggled her bottom as if testing it, moving it to make my cock rest in the crevice of her ass cheeks. "Oh yes, very much," she replied, while she reached her hand behind her to brush my cheek. "Thank you, big brother"

"It's my pleasure."

"Not only yours, mine too." She then grabbed my hand again and kissed it before snuggling tight against me, wiggling her ass in a slow grind a couple of times before resting our hands next to her cleavage. The storm's fury had waned, and the rain was only a soft downpour, no thunder and lightning, yet we were closer in her bed than when I had laid last night as I had been trying to comfort her. I pushed my hips lightly forward, pressing my erection against her even harder, while pulling her tighter against me with the hand over her breast, just to see how she would respond,. She muttered some kind of sounds that told me something was clearly pleasurable for her, but I relaxed again since I couldn't make out what it was.

"Good night, baby girl."

She gave a contented sigh, "Good night, Love"

Dawn was bleak; rain was coming down in torrents from the sky, you could hear the thunder from the sea and the scarce light of day had turned the window blinds to a pale gray that didn't hide my sister and me from the depressing sight outside. It was definitely morning; and I was definitely hard again, or still, whichever, you want...

Our bodies had gotten entangled during the night, and my morning boner was buried between her ass cheeks, pointing up her spine, separated only by my pajama bottoms and her cotton panties. My hand was no longer up by her breast, but was resting on the side of her right thigh instead, about halfway between the hem of panties and the bend in her knee. My legs were bent parallel to hers, almost in the spoon position, and I loved being here.

I didn't know if it was because I needed to stretch, or because I wanted to feel her again. The whole truth, and nothing but the truth, was that I stretched my whole body, straightening my legs and pulling my arms up and out behind me until they touched the headboard. This had the effect of stretching me out, but also it also forced my body to drive my hips forward, increasing the pressure of my erection in the crack of my sister's ass cheeks.

I could feel Moira's body moving forward a little as it was being pushed from behind by my little circus stunt.

"Mmmm, oh boy, is that all for me?" she asked, without looking back. She giggled and pushed her hips back hard against me before relaxing and falling a little forward again.

I was feeling excited, no, horny is the right word, so I responded, "What do you think?" and I did press forward again. And this time, oh my God, this time she immediately pressed back as hard as I was pushing forward and she stayed there, moving her hips in small circles while pressed against me.

"I definitely hope so." Then she turned her head to look at me over her shoulder, and looking at me straight in the eye, she reached back with her right hand, placed it at the base of my skull, pulled me in to lightly kiss me on the lips, and held me there for just a moment; still softly brushing my lips with hers, she said, "Good morning, big brother."

"Good morning, little sister," I replied in the same way, playful yet serious.

As if to relieve the tension in the air she looked down at her chest and thrust it out. "Do you mean, 'not-so-little' sister?" and smiled sweetly back at me.

"My not so little beautiful sister" This earned me another kiss and a grind, I pressed backwards as we kept looking each other in the eyes our smiles changing to expressions of bliss and on my part horniness. My sister looked away as she turned her head back front but at the same time took my hand and brought it to embrace around her stomach.

She held my hand in her own, gripping it tightly as she pressed herself back against me again, repeatedly clenching and relaxing the movement of her ass cheeks. Instinctively, and with my sense of reason vanishing, I began pressing back again, using her ass crack to stroke myself as the inside of my cotton pajamas rubbed against the bottom of my cock and head.

"Ohhhhh," I heard a muffled cry from her pillow. That was a good sign to me, so I lightly stroked her stomach and her hand let go of mine, giving me access to this sensitive area of her body. She was still curled up and I couldn't move my hand as far as I wanted to. I ran my hand up and down over her hip so I could stroke the smooth skin of her thigh instead. This elicited another moan that was accompanied by a twitch this time. Had this been a spasm? She interrupted her thrusting back at me only for a moment, and I was still able to continue my movements unaided and uninterrupted.

My sister took my hand in hers and brought it from her thigh to her lips and held it tight for a second. She softly and repeatedly kissed my hand as her head turned toward me, her eyes closed, almost like waiting for my reaction to know if I agreed with her doing so, before she opened her amazing green eyes and looked right back into mine. They were filled with passion. No one could mistake that look.

Her gaze made my soul and body hers once and for all; she pulled my hand up and placed it on her right breast, definitively giving herself to me, and squeezed my hand before releasing it and reaching back behind my head again. My cock was now sandwiched in the canyon between her sumptuous ass cheeks, and my hand was on her tit; I kissed my sister, her face, her neck, her earlobe, wherever and whenever I could reach them.

If I had any reservations, the fire in her kisses responding to mine melted them. Whatever doubt I had of her love and passion for me was scorched by the desire in her eyes, which was as alive and unmistakable as that of a mature woman can be. She wanted me; she wanted her brother as much as I, her brother, wanted her.

J---Taking a bath together

I got up from her bed to go to my room and take a shower at seven thirty. I took a good and refreshing shower, shaved, changed my clothes, and went to back to Moira's room to wait for the doctor and to make sure she took her medicine and ate a nice breakfast. She was as I had left her, in bed with a dreamy look on her face, as she awoke when I knocked on her door.

"May I come in, Mor?"

"Of course, Inay, you always can."

She giggled in spite of herself. She was 40 something, forty three maybe, and I'm 46, but I sometimes still call her the same way I used to do when she was nine and I was twelve.

"I'm so grateful that you want me with you again; my family life in the past hasn't been an easy one," she said.

Room service came with breakfast for two, and we had a leisurely conversation about what we would do in the immediate future while eating, avoiding any reference to last night's events, and even less to those of early this morning.

"I'm starting to feel human again." She must have seen the look on my face, as I had really been worried about her.

"Well..." she started talking between bites of the toast, "Have you thought about what you're going to do?" She finished the toast and took the medicine.

I shrugged my shoulders, "Nope."

I stood up and carried our empty plates and glasses to the service table by the door, "You just lie back and try to get more sleep. I'll be in to check on you later."

Moira just faintly smiled at me. She deserved better from life. Hell, so did I for that matter. Exhausted both physically and mentally, but especially physically, she now ended up in peaceful sleep. I checked on her all day; I brought her some more soup and dessert for lunch, and her medicine. I saw her watching me as she ate; all women know when something is on their beloved's mind, so she knew there was something on my mine. She just waited for me to find the right time to say whatever it was I wanted to say.

"You know, Mor, you may have a couple of options that you might not have thought of," I said, as if following a conversation.

"Like what, big brother?"

"Well, you could stay here in Scotland until you fully recover your health, get back on your feet and then go back to whatever you want to do with your marriage and your life."

"Humph, that might take a while, and what about you in the meanwhile?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "I'll stay here as long as it takes for you to recover; as long as you need me. You now as well as I do that I consider myself divorced right now, I only need to make it official"

"What if I need you for life?"

"I'll stay with you to the end of my life."

She looked at me to see how serious I was. "Right, what's the second option; you said there were a couple."

I smiled, a devilish smile, "You could just move in with me here, not like now, live together, permanently."

"I don't know..."

"Are you worried about what the family will say?"

"Well, you know I have children and..."

"And they weren't there when you needed them most, when you were abused, mistreated, and beaten by their father." I was seething.

I was now thinking back that I had never seen my sister whose clothes left her arms and legs bare after she was married. She always wore pants and a shirt with a collar and long sleeves so that nobody could see the horrors of her battered body, never going to the pool, and never bathing in public. Everyone thought it was yet another of her rarities, of course. Damn him and all of his family.

Moira got a worried smile, but she raised her hand and tried to sound indifferent, "In the words of the ancient and wise Sun Tzu, fuck them."

I held my hand out to her, "Come on, the doctor said it would be good for you to get up for a while."

She stared at my hand, "Why? I won't have so far to fall if I die here."

"Who says you're gonna die? You're already better, come on."

She sighed and took my hand. I had to help her because she was still weak as we walked a few steps and stopped outside the bathroom. "What are we doing here?"

"Well, my little sister, you're going to take a hot bath; that will make you feel good and smell better."

"You didn't say anything about my smell this early morning, as I well remember, big brother."

"Yeah, you're right; my nether head didn't smell anything this morning, and I'm sorry about that."

"Why should you? I don't, it was very pleasurable for a forty three year old woman to be able to make a man stand up that way."

She told me that a hot bath sounded good after a few minutes; my arm supported her into her bathroom, and she stumbled as I took it away. "I'm not sure if I can; maybe it would a good idea if you leave the door open in case I need your help."

"Good idea; then I can come in after you've fallen and broken your head or some other part of your scrumptious body. Why don't I help you get into the tub?" I told her, not joking this time.

"I don't think so!"

I chuckled mirthlessly, "I've seen a naked woman before you know, and as a matter of fact, I've seen you without your clothes on."

"We were kids, and you haven't seen this naked woman before."

"Oh yes, I've seen this lady naked before, you weren't aware, but you don't have anything that will surprise me anymore."

"I'm sorry you had to see that...."

I was angry at remembering again. "You don't have to be sorry, what you should be sorry about is that your son of a bitch of a husband beat you?"

Before I could say or even think, Moira blurted out, "Alright, alright, take your clothes off and get in the tub with me." I was shocked and could see she was as shocked herself.

"Ah, Sis ... I don't think that's a good idea."

She got a smug look, "Why not? You don't have anything that will surprise me, I have seen everything you have, even from a standup point of view, as you remember?"

"Alright, I'll do it if that's the only way I can get you into the tub."

Her complacent look disappeared. Now I was sure that she thought I would say no and that would be the end of it. To compose herself, she said, "I'm sure it would be a sacrifice for you, big brother."

We had always been close, but we had been very careful to keep things somewhat controlled. We had never thought of each other that way until now, except when we had both been kids and that didn't count, but as adults we hadn't, or maybe we had? "No, it won't be any sacrifice, believe me."

She let me help her into the bathroom, then stopped, "I need some privacy first."

She had drawn the line at having an audience for her bodily functions. I had to admit that she could at least relieve herself without any assistance or audience. I wouldn't have believed she was going to do this anyway, so I went outside to wait.

I heard the toilet flush a little while later, then she said, "OK, you can come in now."

I came in and saw her seated on the closed commode; she was still dressed in her camisole and white cotton panties, and I thought she had changed her mind about the shared bath. I went to the tub, started the water, headed for the bath linen cabinet to get towels and a washcloth, then took the scented oil bottle on the side of the bathtub and added it to the water. I was nervous and my movements betrayed my state.

It couldn't be less; the two of us were going to be naked in the presence of the other for the first time in over twenty years, and under very different circumstances this time. My sister wasn't an inexperienced eighteen year old girl anymore; she's now a mature lady, mother of three adult offspring, and she knows what she wants. I looked at her.

I saw Moira, on the other hand, beaming while looking at me. It was the first time that I was so shy since I was a kid. I noticed her reflection in the mirror while waiting for the water to be ready; she didn't look well, she had dark circles under her eyes, her skin was pale, and her hair was plastered against her skull as the fever had ravaged her body, but her spirit was intact and the body would recover, because I with her.





We just looked at each other, both feeling very awkward. She then stood up and wobbled, and the awkwardness between us was broken when she staggered. I reached for her so she wouldn't fall, and she said, "I'm still felt a little woozy, but with..."

I started to take her clothes off, and she said, "I can do that," when she felt me doing so.

I was angry at her, "Don't be a fool, I'm here for you. Let someone do something for you for once in your life; you can barely stand up."

I saw that she realized I only had her best interests at heart once and for all, and stood there with her eyes closed. "This is kind of embarrassing, you know..." She was supporting herself with one hand on my shoulder; her top soon was on the floor.

"Damn the hell, Sis!" I swore again.

She turned a deep red; her eyes snapped open and saw my hand reaching for her. Maybe she thought I was going to touch her breasts, because I suddenly heard her say, "What are you ...?" but I wasn't looking at her breasts. Her eyes followed my hand as I touched one of the many bruises she had gotten from her soon to be ex-husband. I saw some again that were very fresh and she must had gotten them right before we left; others she had gotten over time.

I looked my sister in the eyes, "I'm sorry, I didn't want to upset you."

"It's okay; I start to wonder at how easy you make me feel how much you now care for me and how gentle you're trying to be.".

I started to take my own clothes off, "Well, it won't happen again."

"No, it's OK really; I thank you for how hard you're trying to not make me feel uncomfortable. Please fully undress me so I can wait for you in the tub."

She softly sighed as I slid her panties to the floor, and I hoped I was doing the right thing. Moira couldn't help looking at me. I saw that she was embarrassed, but her eyes felt drawn to my cock. I wasn't turned on now, and I didn't know how she felt about that, especially after the incident this morning. She let me lead her to the bathtub when my clothes were off, and stood there helpless, while I got in first, then helped her in.

She sat down with my help, and I followed suit, sitting behind her. "Mmmm, God, this feels good," she sighed. The hot water felt good and I put my hands on her shoulders, pulling her back toward me. She scooted until her back touched my chest, and as my arms surrounded her, she laid her head back against my shoulder.

It felt so wonderful; my arms were around her, but I didn't touch her breasts. I hugged her just below them and held her. I wanted to touch her more, but not as a brother, and I absently toyed with the idea of us being close like this forever.

"Why don't you turn the water off, Dear?"

She couldn't reach the faucets, so I pushed her forward a little, reached over and stopped the water, then leaned her back against me. I could feel her tensed body relax as the scented hot water was making her muscles unknot and loosen. I lathered the washrag and started cleaning her arms, back, and shoulders, then I perceived that the truth was much worse than I had first realized. She not only had bruises, but I felt her wince when I touched a particular zone under her breasts, and after touching her again very carefully this time, I received an unpleasant surprise; she had broken bones. I promised myself he would fare far worse.

I kept washing her as a caress, slowly cleaning her body, with her lying on me immobile. It felt odd, but so right, as the sensation of her body against mine made the difference. We were still in the tub and my arms were still around her when she mumbled, "When did the water get cold?"

I smiled, "About fifteen minutes after you fell asleep and that was what, almost an hour ago?"

She looked down her body at her nipples, still in the cold water. They were almost purple and standing out from her breasts a half inch. Her body cried for her not to torture it anymore when she tried to turn over to get out the bathtub, and when she separated her body from mine with an effort, my limp, soft dick was still in the cold water, not more than a foot away. She said, "I don't think that part of your body likes cold water."

I stood and helped her stand up. She told me that she was feeling much better now, but I didn't want to take any chances, so I stepped out and extended my hand. She held onto me and I could instinctively feel the love as she got out of the tub, just from touching her.

I took a towel and dried her off as she stood there, I knew she would still be embarrassed, and as I tried to make it as easy for her as I could, she said, "I'm not embarrassed at all; I can't remember the last time I've been pampered like this."

I had been surprised that my sister hadn't told me she could dry herself off. So I made sure there were no place or wet areas missed after her confession, especially her head, believe or not. I didn't want for her to get sicker, especially since it hadn't been in my plans to be in the water until it got cold. I had planned on a quick hot bath. After what I had learned about the broken ribs, I moved the towel over her body very carefully. I couldn't help but stare at her large, mature breasts, especially as the nipples still stood out. I couldn't stand it anymore, I had to touch them.

Moira sucked her breath in as she felt my fingers trace across her nipples.

"Sorry, it was an accident."

"Uh huh, don't worry, I don't care; it felt good."

She took off the towel from my hands when I started drying myself after I had finished with her. "Nope, it's my turn, she said with a smile."

She was still a little dizzy and used one hand on me for support. As she did so, she said me, "I'm very impressed, big brother, I hadn't realized you had muscles that are so hard." She smiled at my reaction, and as she ran her fingers along my not so soft cock, she said, "Sorry, it was an accident."

We got dressed, me in my street clothes, and she in a pair of clean pajamas I brought her, then it was off to bed for her again. I could see that she enjoyed letting me fuss over her. I let her sleep until supper time and then I ordered a tasty dinner to be brought to her. It did wonders for her; her full stomach helped her to feel better. She had at least another week in bed anyway, and weather allowing, she could go out for a little while during the sunny hours of the day, then go back to bed to rest again.

K---Our first time

It had been a week since the day we took our first bath together. Moira had been slowly recovering strength over the days, and the bathroom scene had not been repeated, nor had she repeated her request for me to spend the night with her. Since the weather hasn't improved so she could not leave her room, she would get out of bed and spend her time reading and talking with me. Since I had nothing better to do, I spent most of my daytime hours with her. We still didn't know what the inheritance would be

Mr. Hotchkins was conducting the legal formalities with rigor while waiting for Moira to be healthy enough so that we could go to his office for the reading of the will. We took our meals in her room, and being in constant company in such a small space with each other, like a well-established marriage without the benefits was doing, allowed the sexual tension between the two of us to reach dangerous levels.

The hands rubbing, the bodies touching, the lusty looks of desire, all contributed to it.

'Does Moira love me?' I was thinking to myself; we're only three years apart and she has known all her life that I'm the only one she could turn to at any time, and as evidenced by what I discovered on this trip, she was right. She told me that she's sure the rest of her family will blame her when they find out about her ending her marriage. Never mind that she had been used for a punching bag; wasn't she always the freaky one? No one except me, her older brother, would try to understand.

I had gone through the same family crap when I lived with my wife, of course, only there were no kicks or blows for me. I now detected her desire, sexual desire for me, her brother, and it was turning into something excruciating for both of us, and I'm about at the breaking point.

Moira was a lot better, although she was still a little weak from her sickness, but I think she mostly wanted someone to look after her, take care of her, and attend to her. She was rather cuddly and wanted to be pampered, indulged for once in her life. I was willing to do it for her for the rest of our lives, if she would only let me.

We took our breakfast together in her room as had become a habit. An hour after room service knocked on our door to take the service away, and when Moira was certain the waiter was actually gone, she told me, "I need a shower; would you help again?" She looked at my face and began giggling. She got out of bed, and taking my arm, pulled me into the bathroom.

She watched me adjusting the water temperature as I did the first time, while my mind drifted to what happened to us over the last few weeks. She came to where I was standing as I finished. I didn't know what to do or say, "Do you need something more from me?

She smiled, "Yes, but I can wait a few minutes." She then took my jacket off, grabbed my shirt and t-shirt, and pulled them up over my head; I was naked to the waist. She took a second to admire my mature chest as she fumbled with the belt holding up my slacks. I'm in good physical condition, what with working outdoors, but she smacked my hand away when I reached down to help her. She bent over and pulled my pants and underwear down together, lightly rubbing my soft cock as she did.

She stood up to allow me to take off her clothes once she took my shoes and socks off my feet. She wasn't as modest as she was last time, and I smiled to myself. She had caught me off guard, but I'm sure she could tell the difference as I was undressing her this time. I had been gentle when I undressed her while she was sick and despondent the other times; my hands were a little jerky now. I caught her glancing down and saw that she was pleased to see that I had started to get hard. I wasn't worried about what she would think about me being turned on by her anymore.

She led me by the hand, and I helped her into the tub again when our clothes were piled on the floor. I got in behind her and positioned her so the hot spray landed on her head. I saw her eyes close as her hair got wet, then I began rubbing shampoo in.

"Oh, Brother, I sure could get used to this." Being nude together in the tub wasn't as embarrassing as before this time. I felt my cock banging into her legs as I washed her hair and I'm sure that she could too. I rinsed her hair, then shampooed it again. "Thanks for being as careful as you are, big brother."

"I wouldn't want to hurt your head again," I said, as my fingers gently scrubbed her hair.

I couldn't believe how good my hands felt in her hair; I could have kept doing this all day, but I had to continue washing the rest of her, so after another rinse, I got the soap and began lathering her back. I couldn't help myself and lingered while caressing/cleaning her butt, my hands digging into both cheeks. I then very slowly made my way to one luxurious thigh, then to the other. I not only washed her lower legs; I massaged them at the same, then it was time that I rose, which I hesitated doing as I had my face in front of her luxurious pubes.

I was hard and she knew it. She also knew that it was because of her. I was looking straight at her pudenda, and she suddenly stepped back a little and snuck a glimpse down and saw that rubbing against her had made me rock hard. She looked me in the eyes when she felt me hesitate to do her front, and asked, "Don't stop now, big brother; I'm hot and I'm not sure it's from the water."

I stood up and soaped her arms, my rigid dong leaking fluids, then I let my hands roam over her breasts. I waited and waited for her to tell me to stop, and I got bolder when she didn't.

Moira bit her lip and a little moan escaped her mouth as my fingers brushed her nipples. She had never been the center of a man's desire as she later told me; she always thought her husband was having sex (when he did) with her just to get his rocks off and he cared less about what she wanted or needed. To him, she was only someone to take his daily frustrations out on by beating her.

I ran my soapy hands over her fair, mature, smooth skin, feeling her nipples grow as my fingers played with them. My hands roamed down over her stomach, stopped to caress her navel, and I felt her shuddering from head to toes when I touched her pubic hair. I suddenly felt her hand wrap around my cock; it was the first time and it had a sexual meaning. I washed the soap off my hand and I ran my middle finger between her pussy lips, spreading them slightly so I could have better access to her hot flesh inside.

Moans escaped her as she felt me teasing her, and in between moans, she mumbled, "Oh, my love, I have ached to be touched this way with love and passion."

"Yes, my love, you belong to me now, and I have only love and passion for you." My mind was on overdrive with passion and a long–suppressed desire.

"I have fantasized about making love, where each touch has love and passion in it like this, but I have never thought of you, my big brother, as the one to give them to me."

She then stroked me and rubbed my cockhead against her skin. It felt so good, it so natural, and seemed that it was like this had to be; us together. Moira didn't say a word; she simply let go of my cock, turned away, bent over, and put her hands on the wall as the hot water sprayed her back. It was an invitation, the final step.

I could feel the heat from her body as my fingers played between her legs. She was so aroused that her juices bathed her pussy lips, so the soap wasn't necessary for my finger to slide inside of her anymore. I had been worried about that. Would she have natural lubrication? I swallowed hard when she turned and bent over; it seemed as if this was my first time with a woman. I knew, or I thought I knew, that my sister had never thought of me that way, but it was clear to me she now wanted me. I had discovered in the past few weeks that I had always loved her; always thinking it wasn't this way, but being so hard for her now proved it differently.

I positioned myself behind her and used one of my hands to guide my stiff cock to her pussy. I was delirious as I felt the heat of her body as I slid inside her. I knew we shouldn't be doing this; I'm her brother, for God's sake. We're siblings; this is incest.

She was so hot and wet that it was easy for me to penetrate her body, even with my mind spinning around the issue of incest and its consequences. She pushed her hips back to get me in deeper when she felt my hard cock inside her and became aware that her body wanted me so bad.

Damn, but was she tight; even at 46, I was impressed with how tight she was at 43. I felt my sister's body electrifying mine as if I had received a 220V shock. I kept my cock buried in her for a few minutes without moving, absolutely paralyzed.

She turned her head, her face devoid of makeup and the hot water running down from her hair, and saw the look on my face when she sensed my lack of motion,. I, her brother, wasn't keeping myself deep inside her just because it felt good. My look was more of contentment. She mirrored my thoughts; "Oh, Ian, I have to admit that I feel the same way you do." At her words, I asked out loud, "When did these feelings between us start, how long have they been there? Why have we never known it before now?"

"I don't know and I don't care; I've never felt a man in me like this, and I love you for it, for how and what you are to me. I love you, Ian, with the love of a mature woman, not that of a teenager."

I took a deep breath, slid my cock back, then rammed it back in hard. I heard her moan and started to fuck my sister hard. I hadn't known how much I had wanted her and my body strongly ached for her now, so I thrust harder and harder, and she responded in the same way, fast and hard. I didn't know she wanted me just as much I wanted her, and rammed in even deeper.

Moira moaned, "I can't believe how rough you're getting, Baby. Please don't hurt me." I was fucking her like I was starved for sex, which I was, "Don't worry, I will never hurt you in any way." My voice was husky with lust; hearing me made her respond the same way. She was giving me exactly what she was getting from me. I wanted it hard, she wanted it harder. I wanted it deep, and she wanted it deeper. Water was being flung everywhere with our frenzied movements.

In and out, harder and harder, our fucking brought us both to a fevered pitch. My sister's orgasm hit her hard. She hadn't gotten off in so long, and her body now had to deal with the incredible waves of pleasure coursing through her body. A whimpering moaning sound came from her throat. I could see that she wasn't even aware she was making any noise at all.

New waves of pleasure exploded in our bodies each time I rammed my hard cock into her, running into the previous waves. Her eyes were now closed, and she gritted her teeth as she balanced between the pleasure in her womb and the pain in her body.

I was at the onset of a prodigious cum, grabbed her hips and shoved my cock as far in her as I could get it. "I'm cumming, Baby; I'm cumming and can't wait, oh, oh, oh, oh. arrrrggggg, yes."

She responded in the same way, "Yes, cum in me, Brother; cum in me. My body feels fantastic. I can feel your cock spewing inside me and know you're filling me with cum." She cried her long-delayed release as my balls were slapping against her legs ass. "Yes, oh yes, my God, I'm cummmminnng. Oh, Ian, Ian, I'm cuummmiiinnnggg."

I slowly eased up and finally stopped. I was physically spent, but emotionally and psychologically more than that. I held myself inside her; the only sounds were our labored breathing and the water splashing in the closed compartment. We slipped to the floor of the tub, still attached.

"I can feel you getting soft, but it's a nice sensation still having you inside me," she said, straightening up and leaning back to kiss me; we felt my almost limp dick slip out of her even before our lips met.

The water now splashing on our bodies only served to amplify our feelings of pleasure.

After drying off good, we lay in bed, resting, and I listened to her soft snore. It wasn't a loud noise, just a sound that was as gentle as her. It was sex at first, but that had quickly turned into lovemaking. According to Moira, she'd never felt any sexual desire for me in her entire life, or as she said after thinking about it, at least she didn't think so. The physical part of the 'pair', the 'couple', they were becoming had started in a completely different place than sex or lust. His love for her had helped wash the pain that her husband had left her with away. She no longer lived in fear of being beat up or knocked down.

L---The inheritance

It was a miserable day; the weather was fouler than it had been for several weeks, with a brutal drop in temperature to about 28 degrees and a strong freezing wind coming from the Arctic. It was at noon on a Friday; it was snowing and four days before Christmas. My God, we've been in Scotland since late November, and it's amazing how our lives have changed. What we didn't know yet was to what extreme they would change after seeing the lawyer and the reading of the will.

It was very lucky that Moira had gotten better enough to allow her, warmly dressed, to attend the solicitor's call for the reading of the will before Christmas. He was not in a hurry, but there were legal matters and deadlines that had to be attended to.

We were waiting in the anteroom to Mr. Hotchkins' offices. Also there was the deceased McIllroy's house staff. We didn't talk as we waited for the lawyer to call us into his inner sanctum for the reading of our relative's last will.





Mr. Hotchkins himself opened the door to his office at twelve o'clock on the dot where he had brought chairs in for all of us. The seating was at random, although Moira and I sat together, and after a few moments of disarray, the lawyer opened the proceedings with a little throat clearing.

"Mrs. Martin, Mr. O'Rourke, ladies and gentlemen. I'm here in my position as Executor Nominate, to open and read the last will of..."

Moira let me take the floor in this matter, because in these historical places, popular beliefs and customs still have, in certain matters, precedence above the law. We had talked about it, and concluded that it would be better if I spoke for both of us.

"Excuse me, Sir; I don't understand your position of 'Executor Nominate.' Isn't there a will?"

"Yes, of course, there's a will, and that's why I'm that; you see, in Scotland, by "The Rights of Succession Act of 1964," the Executor Nominate administers the estate of a deceased who left a valid will."

"Sorry, Sir. Being a stranger in this country..."

"That's all right, old boy, I understand; laws are different in different countries. Succession laws are different even within the United Kingdom, in Scotland, England, Wales, and Northern Ireland. In Scotland's case, it's so because we have a separate judicial system upheld by the Scottish Courts."

I was silent; I wanted to know where all this conversation was leading us.

"As the law says, I had been chosen by your deceased kinsman– as his choice of executor as contained within the will."

I calmly spoke, "Alright, Sir, how do we continue?"

"Well, in fact, this is a very simple matter as the law provides two options, one if there is no will (intestacy), not this case; and second if there is a will. It's all very simple in this case. Since your cousin had no other direct family, it all falls under paragraph (i) Ancestors of intestate remoter than grandparents, on both paternal and maternal sides, generation by generation successively take the whole, but if no ancestors survive in any generation, their brothers and sisters come before ancestors of the next more remote generation."

We both looked at each other; it was clear that we didn't understand anything of what the solicitor was talking about. He surely saw our puzzled faces, because with a smile, he explained to us:

"The first in line of succession would be your grandparents, as they were his mother's cousins; them being deceased, it goes down the line to both of you as it states in part (iii) of the law <> Do you understand?"

"Yes, we do."

"Well, the will has a first chapter differentiated of the rest by a stipulation which establishes several monetary bonuses and gifts to the house personnel. I'll pass it for each of them to read, and after these beneficiaries have signed the documents accepting the will's provisions for each of them, I'll read the second clause to you, the main beneficiaries."

So he did, and after signing the papers, the other beneficiaries said their 'thank you' and left a few minutes later.

"There is another specification in the will in which your grand uncle clearly stated: all of his estate goes to the two of you because you were the only ones of your family who came to Scotland at his request. Congratulations."

"Thank you, we think," I said. "One question, if you don't mind."

"Not at all, my young friend, speak up."

"Who would have been the beneficiary if we hadn't come from the States?"

His face showed surprise, and then, "Whom other than the 'Crown' my friend; the law states: the Crown as ultimus haeres, failing any relatives in the foregoing categories, takes the whole," and he uproariously laughed.

"I assume you would now want to know what you are getting from this trip. "

Moira couldn't keep her mouth shut this time, and answered, "That would be nice to know, of course."

"Well, the last estimate was fairly good for anyone; I think that after debts and other liabilities have been met, your net inheritance, and by heritable property, the law means land and buildings, while moveable property includes such things as money, shares, cars, furniture, and jewelry, could be between one and a half to two millions pounds.

"Oh my God, that's a lot of money, it's, it's almost in dollars..."I couldn't finish my sentence.

"It could be around two and a half to three million dollars."

I kept my face impassive as if an inheritance of a million and a half dollars would happen in my life every day, "That's a lot of money, anyplace."

"Each."

"What?" we both exclaimed our surprise at the same time.

"That's right; your kinsman was one believer in saving his money and investing it as wisely as he could."

There was silence, and as we didn't say anything, he added," Now if you sign these documents and proofs of your family relationship with old McIllroy for me, I'll present then in court and make all this legal."

We were just silently looking each other in the eyes, being unable to understand what was happening to us. I mean we knew we had gotten rich overnight by what the lawyer has told us, very rich, and all because our marriages being at the edge of the cliff. We had decided to take the opportunity to get out of them, even if momentarily, by taking advantage of a graceful exit provided by the situation the old guy in Scotland had created. God bless his soul.

"Oh, one more thing; it may take some time for the court and the Exchequer to make the accounts clear, calculate the estate taxes and document the possessions on your behalf. Oh, and I was forgetting; after everything has been cleared, you must make a document to present to the court, stating the name to whom each of the possessions will go so that is duly sealed in the public records for taxes."

I spoke again for the both of us, "Is it necessary to decide about the property ownerships right now; could we think about it?"

"No, of course not, but you should stay in the country. I'll go and inform the house staff to be at your disposal from now on so you may go to live in there if you so decide. Another matter is you will have to go to London to authenticate both your passports at the American Embassy, get a copy, then legalize both the originals and the copies at the Foreign Office."

I told Moira when we were on the street that we should go to London after Christmas to legalize our documents and the medical dossier for her divorce, but she told me she preferred to stay in town, move to our new house, and prepare it so that we could live in it while I went to the Kingdom's capitol to satisfy all the document requirements. I agreed with her; it would be almost as a new home for us, and I couldn't wait.

After a nice dinner in the hotel dining room that night, I asked her, with some trepidation, if she would like to make love with me again. I was as anxious as a school kid waiting for the answer from the girl he had asked to go to the prom dance with him. She stopped short in the middle of the hall, and looking into my eyes, softly said, "You don't have to always ask me; you just tell me you want to make love to me."

After a few steps, she added, "It's not that I'm submissive; you're going to find out otherwise. It's just that I've been deprived of love and yes, sex, for so long, that now that I have found my soul mate, I won't let you go from my side ever again."

Her confession was making me shiver from passion and joy, then she finished her thought, "I'm not a stupid 20 year old girl anymore. I'm a mature woman who knows what she wants; you."

We walked the rest of the distance to our rooms in silence. Before opening her door, she whispered, "Go change out of your street clothes and come to my bed, husband to be. I'm all hot and horny, and don't think of going to sleep, because you won't," and with her last words, threw me an 'air kiss' and winked her eye. My God, I'm sure I don't recognize this new sister of mine.

I softly knocked on her door, and it opened a crack by itself just as softly; I pushed it and got inside the room before any guest walked by and saw me closing and locking it behind me. Moira was above the bottom sheet on the bed, the bedspread folded and pushed to the foot of the bed. She was only wearing a diaphanous white negligee that allowed appreciation of all her mature beauty, her body with her medium size pendulous breasts, her almost flat tummy, and her dark honey-colored mons hair. It was a sight to admire and adore. My appreciation wasn't skewed or biased by my love. She was a goddess, my goddess.

Moira sat up on her bed, with her legs dangling and feet flat on the floor mat, as I came in. I stood in front of her and slowly and deliberately started taking my dressing gown off. I was naked under it except for a pair of shorts I left on in case I had any kind of incident in the hotel corridor; my cock had a rampant erection and its head came out through the slit like that of an angry rattlesnake ready to attack and put all its poison in its victim.

She put two fingers in the elastic of my shorts on each side of my waist, and gently slid them down my legs until my cock was totally released from its prison. She watched my now rigid cock hovering inches away from her lips, and gently took hold of my cock with her fingers and pulled me nearer to her. She kissed my cock head and ran her tongue over it, covering it with a coat of her saliva. She adored my cock and it was a kind of religious experience for me.

I couldn't resist and dug my fingers into her shoulder, pulling her face closer to my cock and then, oh my God; she inserted my complete length into her sucking mouth. My pelvis began thrusting in a slow to and fro motion, trying to hold back when I heard gagging so that she wouldn't suffer any discomfort, and I felt my cock gently fucking her mouth. I began to luxuriate in the exquisite sensations she was giving me, something I had forgotten in all the years of my rotten marriage.

While she devoured my manhood with her mouth, I grabbed her soft spongy boobs with both hands, and caressed her nipples between my rough thumbs and index fingers. I then began to fondle her breasts and pinch her nipples, occasionally tweaking at her engorged tits. She was now pushing her torso hard against my hands with erotic frenzy, and I could feel her areoles getting hard and erect under my playful stimulation, and her pleasure showed by the purring in her mouth whose vibrations went throughout my insides from my penis to my anus.

I would have loved to continue and watch her as I ejaculated in her hungry mouth. However, I was crazy with desire to fuck her now in the missionary position on a bed, looking her straight to the eyes with my cock in her pussy in a communion of body and soul. I pulled my saliva-covered cock out of her mouth and tried to push my body away from her, but she was reluctant to let me go. She halfheartedly released me and waited for my next move. I caressed her face and lips, and asked her to lie on the bed while I sat on the side of the bed and slowly stretched my body.

She turned around, got on her knees and made me go to the bed's center, then she put a pillow under my head and told me to be quiet, as this was my time to be pleasured and for her to be the pleaser.

I was now stretched out on the bed, with my pulsing rock hard cock jetting out of my dark thatches, erect like a mast with no sails in the middle of the ocean. What I didn't know at the moment was the storm preparing on the horizon, in the person of my sister who was going to dismantle my erect and proud mast.

I didn't know, but sensed what the future had in store for me as my sister was watching me with an eagerness born of long time suppressed desires. She climbed over the bed and straddled my mature, and no longer athletic, body between her long and beautiful thighs.

"Baby," I said to her, "I don't have a condom, so to be cautious pull out when I tell you I'm cumming."

"Coitus interruptus? With you? No way, besides you already have cum in me."

"Yes, that's right but we were under the shower, with soapsuds over us and it's probable that my spermatozoids were if not dead, they almost were."

"Don't worry my love, Richard , perhaps as a punishment, I don't know why, besides beating me, he always, when he did, rode me bareback and I never got pregnant again. So the safest thing is that the beatings have made me infertile."

She took hold of my massive hardon and lowered herself till her cunt and my cock head came into contact with her very wet bush. I rubbed my stiff organ along her dripping pussy crack and slowly guided my bulbous head into her horny vagina. Her cunt was overflowing with juices; therefore, my cock didn't face any resistance on its way up.

She relentlessly pushed her body down, stood still and rigid as a statue, until she felt comfortable with my cock inside her, and she began her mad gallop, twisting and writhing, once she was sure it was trapped inside her body and couldn't escape.

She knew her twisting and writhing body would overload my senses. I grasped her hips and tried to slow her movements a little, but she let out a cry of protest. Her body undulated over mine and I clenched all my muscles.

"Are you trying to kill me?" My words were interspersed with grunts as I continued to thrust up.

She giggled, the sound dying in a gasp as I moved hard and fast for several strokes. She laid her hands over mine where I held her, and fixed her gaze on mine.

I loved looking up into her flushed face as she slid my penis in and out of her tight sheath. I loved the way she bit her lip or the way her eyes opened when she struck just the right spot deep her insides. I was attuned to the throat sounds she let escape when gritting her teeth to keep from orgasming for a little longer.

I was getting to know her as well as she knew me. She was learning that when she clenched her muscles around me, it would take me to the brink in a second. She knew it would make me stretch my body to fend my orgasm off as long as possible, and our bodies would rub feverishly together for those last few, hard strokes. She stood rigid over me again, her heels digging and keeping my legs pressed to the bed, preparing her deep womb and cunt muscles to clench and unclench over my overheated prick, as she moaned my name while rubbing her pussy lips over the skin of my pubic bone.

I recognized the mischievous look in her green eyes from our lives a long time ago. "Don't do it," I said.

"Don't do what?"

"You know what."

But it was too late, I felt the first flutter of her insides clenching around me; I stayed rigid on the bed under her clenching, my own rectal and perineum muscles trying to avoid the inevitable. She did it again and my resistance began to diminish as my muscles tired and we both knew I was seconds from spraying her womb with my seed. I would then let her nude body rest over mine as our naked and sweaty skins slid together as she fucked me to her climax.

She squeezed again as she moaned my name, and I could feel her orgasm hit, big potent, and powerful. She slid down and wrapped her arms around me. She kissed my face as her arms went around my shoulders. Her feet slid down my legs to rest her thighs and calves muscles, but her mons was still tightening her pussy around my still rigid cock.

"God, Moira, you feel so fucking good, so tight..."

"For an old girl, you mean?" she sighed into my ear.

A shudder rippled up my spine. She traced my face with her fingertips, rocking her pelvis up and against me as I kept moving in her. "You're not old, Baby, you're..."

"Does it feel good, Ian? Does it felt good to be in your little sister's pussy? Do you like how wet and hot I am for you?"

I couldn't nod, couldn't speak, and couldn't think. The only thing I could do was keep thrusting my cock in and out of her perfect body. She kissed my face and lips, stroked my flanks, and kept whispering naughty things in my ear all the while. Her voice faded, and she let her head fall against my shoulder when she felt my breathing quicken.

I turned my head sideways to look into her face, her beautiful, deep red face, the face I'd known and loved; yes, I now know that I had loved it my whole life. I could feel her breath, sweet-sour from the wine, the sight of her disarrayed hair sticking to her sweaty forehead, her now sparkling green eyes filled with passion, and her lips, sending the kiss that always sent him crazy.

"Moira," I cried, and arched my constricted back as I started to come.

I shot my second load into her, a feat I thought impossible at my age, emptying more and more of myself with every pump of my hips. She held me close, pressing her arms and legs tight around my body. I could feel her lips on my face as she continued to press loving kisses to my cheeks, eyes, and chin.

When I caught my breath, I turned my face, kissed her on the mouth, and said, "I love you, Moira."

She smiled. "I love you, Ian."

I buried my face against her neck and squeezed her with my limbs. I then shifted from below her and slipped free of her body. I spooned her, my arms around her front under her breasts, drawing her with me as I rolled to my side; she moved backwards, leaning her back against my chest with a contented sigh.

"I could stay here like this all day tomorrow, and after and after, till eternity."

Moira laughed and her body movement made her bottom stir, not only my pubic hair.

Christmas came and we were invited by Mrs. Hotchkins to spend Christmas Eve and the 25th with them and family, telling us with honesty, that it didn't seem right that two young people so far from home were alone in the hotel on the holidays, adding with a wink, "Least of all those who will be my husband's best clients."

I took the rented car after New Year's and drove to Aberdeen Airport, where I got a domestic flight to London.

3---Moira and Ian

M---Living as a couple

Moira was alone in her room in their new house, waiting for her brother to come back from London. She had put on a new almost transparent green bra and panties set after a hot and luxurious bath that she had bought before leaving the States.

As she checked herself in the mirror, she was thinking, 'I have a 32-23-34 figure on a 5'8" frame; I'm almost as tall as Ian. I have what may be considered a dancer's body, though I had never danced outside of family meetings when I was young since Richard, wasn't being a fan of going out with me; well, not going anywhere with me. I'm toned and fit at 118 pounds, only ten pounds more than the day I married Richard and three children later'.

She nodded to her reflection on the mirror, and said aloud, "Not bad for a 43 year old. Not bad at all, eh, old lady?"

Turning around to see her whole body, she noticed her butt did peek out from the panties a little, and decided in an act of vanity, that was because the panties were a tad small on the bottom, not because her ass was too big. She turned around again and inspected the front of her body. Her breasts, encased in the soft material, dropped a little, not as much as most women her age and in her circumstances, and she not only saw, but felt her nipples getting hard at her self-examination, and they got as hard as pebbles when a vision of her brother suddenly entered her mind.

As she inspected lower down her body, she saw her tummy forming a little pouch, nothing deforming her body, then her eyes arrived at her crotch. The slit of her pussy was clearly defined in a teasing camel toe, barely concealed by the gusset material. She ran a finger between the folds of her labia, and said aloud, 'This is the place Ian loves to suck, tease, and put his cock in so much'. She caressed her labia with a finger, and feeling it getting wet, she again said to her reflection in the mirror, 'Oops, take it easy with that baby or you won't be ready when Ian gets home'.





After Ian got to their new home in Alford that evening, and to their now usual 'welcome home', kissing like newlyweds, he asked Moira if she wanted to go out to dinner. Moira would have preferred to stay home with him, but he argued that he wanted them to have a relationship open to the eyes of their new, and most possibly future neighbors. So they dressed accordingly and went to dinner at a fashionable restaurant in Aberdeen.

The atmosphere inside the restaurant contrasted nicely with the polar cold outside, and it was easy to get a table without a reservation in the not crowded lounge dining room. A waitress appeared at their side after they took seat and offered them the menu. They each asked for a glass of wine while studying the main menu. They asked for a glass of 2009 Sauvignon Blanc for Moira, and a 2010 Merlot for Ian. The menu consisted of:

Artichoke and tomato salad with truffle dressing: at £12.05;

Seared breast of pigeon with aubergine purée and spiced couscous: at £14.15;

Spinach, ricotta and sundried tomato pizza with a rocket salad: at £12.75;

Roasted half spring chicken with stuffing: at £24.95;

Risotto of pea and broad bean with goat's cheese: at £12.40;

Char-grilled rib-eye steak with hand-cut chips and béarnaise sauce: £17.80 each portion;

Green tea and white chocolate brûlée: £6.05;

and a cheese board: £3.10.

Included for after dinner, at bar prices, was a glass of malt whisky, Cointreau or Grand Marnier liqueur: £12.55;

Being a different cuisine to which they were accustomed back home, they chose to ask for one course at a time and share it this time. If they liked it they would each order a complete dish next time. Prices were a little on the high side, and when they were commenting on it, Ian suddenly whispered Moira, "What the hell, it doesn't matter anymore. We can afford whatever we want now; we're rich, aren't we?"

She looked at me and with a double entendre, answered, "Yes, we can afford anything we want now, and do you know what? I even can afford you as my lover."

We clinked our glasses in a toast, "To you, my love," we said in unison. After a glass of malt and Cointreau, we asked the waitress for the dinner bill, paid, left a substantial tip, and drove home.

On the way, Moira asked me how we should act in the house and in front of employees; I answered her I hadn't thought about and I didn't mind what anybody thought of us and our relationship anyway. I said, everybody knows you as Mrs. Martin and me as Mr. O'Rourke from someplace in America. We may pass for cousins and the employees had heard Mr. Hotchkins call us by those names anyway. Once it has been recorded in the staff's minds, it would be the same one way or the other.

"So, dear brother; you have been thinking about it, haven't you?"

"Well yes; I had given some thought to the matter," I said uneasily.

"Don't worry, my love; I love the fact my big brother is thinking about us and our future," said an amused Moira.

We arrived at the manor around 10 PM and I put the car in the garage. Moira went to the house in the meantime, and she was waiting for me in the parlor when I entered. She told me in a whisper she had prepared two bedrooms, but wanted to spend the first night in the house in the same bed with me.

She took me by the hand and pulled me to her bedroom, and as I tossed my jacket on the back of a chair and made quick work of my tie, she asked me if I wanted to dance.

Surprised, I asked her if she didn't think it was a little late at night for dancing. She looked at me and asked, "Tell me, Dear; do you have to work tomorrow?"

I looked at her, not catching the irony of her question, so she added, "You must start thinking differently, Brother; you aren't a 7:30 to 5 worker anymore. You're a rich man now; so what if you sleep till noon?"

"Yes, but what about the servants? They may hear the music and..."

"So what? You're the boss, and besides, their rooms are at the other end of the house and won't be able to hear anything; not that it matters one way or the other."

"Alright, if you say so, but do we have a radio or something like..."

I could see Moira was excited, "Better than that, look what I found in the family room and brought here for a special occasion. It was an old record player with some well-kept 45 RPM vinyl records."

To say I was amused must be an understatement, but I couldn't deny her any little bit of happiness she would want from now on. "OK, have you picked something special?"

She put the platter on and dropped the needle to play one of my favorite classical pieces, Ravel's 'Bolero' by the Munich Philharmonic Orchestra, then came to me posing with her arms outstretched in the classic love embrace gesture.

"Would you dance with me, my love," she whispered up at me, as I put her arms around my neck and I placed my arms on her back. Her almost nude body felt soft and silky beneath her bathrobe.

The classic sounds of 'The caravan in the desert' that came out of the record player, coupled with the womanly scent that exuded from the skin of my sister's body gave me goose bumps.

"It will be a pleasure, as it already is, my love," I smiled down into her eyes at the same time as I kissed her brow.

We didn't move much, just a beautiful swaying of our embraced bodies to the beat of the music, and of the orchestra's hypnotic drums. As the music cascaded over and enveloped us, Moira closed her eyes for a moment, and with her head on my shoulder, whispered, "Thank you, my love. It's been years since I had the pleasure of a loving body hugging me to the rhythm of music."

"I'm so sorry, my dear, so, so very sorry."

"Don't be, my love, just hold me tight, and keep me forever."

"That I promise you."

She opened her eyes and locked them on me as we swayed without moving our feet.

I couldn't hold her any tighter; we would have to have been together in our mother's womb to be so, and I felt that she was genuinely happy for the first time in her life.

She was more radiant and more beautiful than any other woman I had ever held in my arms; she was the only one who had looked up at me with such adoration in her eyes. Why in the hell had her husband felt the need to find pleasure by hitting and abusing such a sweet woman? It was impossible for me to live without her, keeping her, guarding her, loving her, and adoring her. I had found the soul mate everybody talks about and almost never find. It was my own flesh and blood, my sister.

She lifted her head and looking into my eyes, softly asked me, "Take me to bed and love me, please."

N--- Loving.

I took her in my arms and carried her to bed. She turned at the side of her bed, looked up into my eyes, and smiled again. "I'm so excited that I can hardly stand it, my darling. I feel like I'm sixteen again."

I was about to start removing my shirt when I remembered the package I had brought from London for her. I went to my suitcase, took the gift out, and gave it to her.

"Would you try them on, Darling?" I asked as I handed her the packet, smiling mischievously.

The gift was wrapped and inside a delicate satin paper bag from one of the trendiest lingerie boutiques in London. It would be a very surprising gift to her. She took the bag, extracted a frilly pack from inside, and opened it. Her eyes opened as big as two full moons. I had bought her the flimsiest bikini briefs she had ever seen. It appeared even smaller than those of the green set she had put on before going to dinner.

"Oh, my love; I can't recall if I have ever worn something like this. I'm so excited about flaunting my body in front of my brother in these tiny pieces of cloth," babbled an excited Moira.

"Do you like it then? I didn't know anything about buying intimate apparel for women and the saleslady had to help me; in fact, it was she who selected the color and the model," I told her.

She giggled at that fact, then asked, "Do I change right here?"

"Not in my presence, Love, I'll go to the family room," I replied. "I don't want to kill the surprise. Call me back when you've changed."

I opened the side door of the bedroom, which leads to a sitting area, and went to the family room where the fireplace was still smoldering and waited for her call. When she softly did, I entered the bedroom and saw her reflection in the mirror.

My God, the woman reflected in the mirror was totally different to the one I had left a few minutes earlier. The panty the saleslady had selected was barely able to cover her cunt. Her dense, unruly, dark-auburn bush was peeping out the sides. As she turned, I could see only a strip of cloth passing through the crack her ass and her mature buns were totally uncovered. It was a heavenly sight.

I looked at her front in the mirror and almost fell flat on the floor.

Her boobs, while not very large, were overflowing, as the tight grip of the skimpy bra wasn't able to fully cover them and the cleavage made it appear as if they were bursting out. I liked her look in the mirror. She suddenly turned all the lights in the room off, leaving only the two candles she had placed at the head of the bed. It was a fully dark night outside and the skies were gloomy; a splendid night for lovemaking.

She silently watched me, waiting for my approving words, and I couldn't take my eyes from her semi-nude body. I was watching her so intently that I felt her cheeks flush. She moved near me, took me into her arms, and in a small apprehensive voice, asked, "Do you like?" I was mesmerized and couldn't say a word, even though my mouth was hanging open.

I didn't answer her with words; I rapidly undressed, my manhood rampant and hard, and I took her to the bed where we lay down. I wanted this time to be the most perfect act of love that she had ever received, to carry her to seventh heaven, and keep her there for as long as I'm able. This was going to be the first time in our new home; the home, God willing, that would be our last, the place where we will get old together until the time comes for us to leave this earth.

"Would you kiss me, my darling?" she asked, in an almost inaudible sigh.

We haven't kissed this many times in our lives, the usual pecks when adults, a little riskier when younger, nothing more for years and years, then a few lust filled kisses on the times we had been intimate at the hotel.

When I dipped my head to kiss her in the usual way, she shook her head. "No, my love, I want you to kiss me like I'm your woman. Like a man kisses her woman. His soul-mate, I've been waiting for this moment without realizing it for so very long. Kiss me like you wanted to 20 and more years ago."

My head spun with her words, it was her complete surrender to our new relationship, and I wanted nothing more at that moment. I had surrendered a long time ago. But for once, I was so sure of myself that I couldn't move. She waited for me to respond for a long moment and then she touched my cheek with the side of her finger and slowly drew my head down to hers.

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue so they glistened softly as my mouth closed on hers. Was it like at any other time? The truth is that I hadn't kissed a woman with love for a long time; it was also true I hadn't kissed any woman in a long time, but this was a different experience I was feeling. I trembled when my lips gently pressed against hers and I felt lightheaded when our mouths came together as her lips softly clung to mine. I was fully erect and she had to feel it pressed against her bloated pussy lips, and she did react like a mad soul lost in the desert hearing the sound of running water.

Moira was purring like a big cat as I held her close and our lips stayed glued together. I then felt her tongue pushing against my lips and teeth with force like that of a woman possessed. My entire body went rigid at her ferocity, but I managed to open my mouth as her tongue slithered between my lips and delicately hunted for my own once inside. Our tongues were coiled together like two snakes making love in a fraction of seconds, warm, wet, and wonderful. It was everything I had ever dreamed it should be when making love to your woman, and nothing like it had happened until now, with my sister rather than with my soon to be ex-wife. My whole body tingled and was set on fire as I savored my sister's sweet and warm saliva, and there was no more doubt about where she wanted our relationship to go when she reached her left hand down, gripped my butt, and pulled me firmly against her.

We had to unstick our glued mouths a while later, since we were gasping hard, panting for oxygen. We separated our bodies and stood there staring at each other. Her nostrils were flared like a mare in heat, and a reddish color dotted her cheeks. I was hearing the drums of the music accompanying that which was playing in my heart and in my head.

I was in high heaven, with my heart hammering in my chest like a railway engine. Moira still had my buttocks in her grip, frantically rubbing her mound against my hard on.

"I love you so much, Ian." I was dazzled as she gazed up at me in rapture.

"I love you very much too," I gutturally replied.

"No, my love, I don't think you understand what I'm saying." She whispered, cooing, "I think I have always been. I wondered for years, but I'm now absolutely sure that I'm madly in love with you. It was for you my heart sang, even before I married Richard."

"I'm in love with you, too, little sister." My cheeks were getting a pinkish color. I couldn't remember when the last time I had said those words to a woman was, maybe never meaning them, and I couldn't keep the words bottled inside me. "I've been 'in love' with you my whole life, or at least since my mind understood what it means to be in love, not just sex or lust, love."

I raised my hands and gently held the sides of her head and bent in to slowly and thoroughly kiss her again. She shivered as my tongue slipped between her lips and delicately probed her wet warmth, thoroughly exploring her mouth. We were soon kissing passionately, our tongues flicking against each other's, as we pulled ourselves tightly against each other. Since we were naked, Moira started to stroke my chest, flicking her long fingernails against my tiny nipples; it was a first to me and I gave a low gasp and moaned.

My own hands slid up to her breasts, and I slowly began to caress them. I took her bra off and her breasts were soon free in my questing hands. I stroked her firm tits, feeling the nipples get hard and long, pulling at them with my fingers.

I had never been this excited in my whole life and my penis felt as if it was going to explode. I was getting frantic to stick it inside Moira's pussy and it was almost too much when she dragged my face to hers and stuck her tongue deep in my throat again. I rolled completely between her wide-open thighs and lifted myself over her with one arm, as I fumbled with the head of my cock while trying to get into her opening with the other. I pushed it in with no finesse when it was in place, just one quick shove and I was right there. I didn't move; I just lay on top of her panting, savoring the sensation of my cock being deeply embedded in a tight, wet place that was deliciously squeezing it.

Moira was feeling the same way, and she didn't move at first either; she just hugged me to her and continued to tease and arouse me with her tongue. When she had finished exploring the whole of my mouth and nearly choked me by shoving her tongue far down my throat, she began to lick my face and neck, nearly driving me crazy. I slowly began to fuck her; this was a fuck made in heaven for both of us. I started slowly; my prick sliding as deep inside her as it would reach, then sliding out again almost to the tip. This was the most exciting thing either of us had ever done, and we soon were slamming away at each other, fucking each other like there was no tomorrow.

Moira was shoving her body back at mine and, also nearing a climax, she loved the force that I was taking her with. My strokes were slow and gentle at first, but I began to shove it harder and faster as I began to close in on my orgasm, until I was slamming myself as hard and as deep as I could manage.

I finally reached a peak and felt the top of my head exploding. It felt as if my whole backbone was forcing its way out of the small opening in my cock, and it went on and on far longer than any ejaculation I ever had before. My whole body was violently shaking and there were flashing bursts of color before my eyes.

"Oh God," I gasped. "Oh God, oh God," as my cries got faster and faster; Moira knew her brother was about to come.

"Give it to me," she gasped, "Oh God, give it to meeeee please,"

I think it must have been my orgasm that tipped Moira into hers. I thought mine was pretty spectacular, but it was nothing compared to what she enjoyed. Her whole upper body turned bright scarlet, sweat burst out of her forehead, her nipples and breasts seemed to swell and grow hard, her whole body violently shook, all the veins on her neck and throat swelled and stood out, and she screamed as she dug her fingers deep into my shoulders as she pulled me hard into her with both her arms and legs, which she had wrapped around me until her heels were digging into my back.

Her climax seemed to go on forever; far longer than mine, and she finally fell back, absolutely spent, and lay gasping on the bed. I felt extremely jealous and envious of what she just experienced. "Oh thank you, God! I haven't felt anything that wonderful in my whole life. I wonder if I've died and gone to heaven."

#############

Sweat soaked, we lay enjoined and reveled in the act of love we had just shared. Moira clasped me to her breast, feeling the tiny receding shudders of my aftershocks and spasms. She told me that she had never felt anything quite as beautiful as this moment; "You, my loving brother, still joined and twitching inside me, your seed seeping from my body and trickling over my anus, and I can now feel my own heart pumping back into a regular rhythm. Wonderful."

I rested a few minutes until my heart got its normal beat again; I wasn't finished with her and said her so.

"What more can you possibly do to me better than what you just did?"

I didn't answer her; I wanted to give her all the pleasure I could in one night and make her forget her desolate and devoid of love life. I wanted her to forget she had had a life before Scotland; a lousy life at that, and wanted for her to believe we could start anew.

I started kissing her face, neck, and upper chest, always going lower. I went over her breasts and spared a moment to suckle her nipples before continuing down her body. I was at her navel, tickling it with my tongue tip, then followed the soft line of fuzzy hair leading to her honey pot. She seemed to be going mad with desire and lust when she became aware where I was going and what my intentions were.

"Oh my God," Moira gasped, and shifted herself forward to allow me a better access to her cunt. My tongue went to work, just as I had seen on the many films I had watched when I was younger and inexperienced. I softly pried her pussy lips open with two fingers, then pushed them inside, feeling the silken folds envelop my wriggling fingers in a hungry embrace.

It didn't take long before she shot her amber cum straight into my mouth, then the aftershocks caused her to twitch in lessening spasms. I looked up and saw my sister's love, her eyes spellbound and transfixed by the scene. With my lips still glued to her pussy lips and the tip of my tongue flicking her clitoris, she smiled at me with a radiant smile of love and lust.

"Never, never once in my life have I been loved that way; thanks, my love."

I couldn't answer her with words busy as I was, so I did with my tongue; I pushed it inside her pussy getting to know every nook and crook intimately, as her overflowing fluids filled my mouth and I drank it like water to the thirsty.





Moira shuddered with the pleasure as she lay on her back with her knees drawn up and parted. I could hear her heart thumping as adrenalin coursed through her veins. Then between the noises of blood going through my head, I heard her voice: " You're going to make me experience one of my fantasies at last, my love. There's nobody better than you. Please give me your cock, Darling, let's love each other together." It took me a few seconds to fully understand the meaning of her words. I was delighted when I did.

I knelt beside her and she lifted her head, tilting it to one side so that Moira could get my raging cock in her mouth, and I went and nipped and suckled nipples while she was sucking it to her content. I delved again, looking for the first prize after a few sucks.

My tongue slapped wetly and hard against Moira's clit. Not painfully, but with enough force to make her jump from the sudden violation. Her mouth opened during her involuntary jump, and my cock entered her throat deeper than any of us had intended. Then, a full slap hit me in the ass cheeks and sounded loudly in a wet resounding splat.

Surprised, I let go of her pussy and lifted my head, "I really like that. Do you?" Moira was merciless in her slapping, each strike of her hand sending shockwaves up to my neural receptors. It was the first time that I had been the recipient of abuse in love play, and I thought it was the way she had to exorcise her own demons from her body at the moment.

Each strike forced my penis deeper into her, making breathing difficult until she regulated the filing of her throat and the desire to breathe with the slap of her hand. Her cunt was on fire, tingling and burning with desire and anticipation.

I shifted again and planted a kiss and a lick on Moira's fur covered mound. The touch of my lips to her blood engorged and supersensitive lips was electric. She arched her back and then, in a reversal of movement, forced her hips upward to meet my mouth.

I found Moira's raging clit and sucked it into my mouth, flicking my expert tongue over the hardened nub of desire. A massive orgasm crashed through my sister, quickly enhanced with several fingers that I forcefully pushed into her vagina. The fingers worked her over well, quickly finding her g spot and causing her to gasp around the base of my cock. She couldn't keep me as deep and pulled her head back. I sensed her need for relief and gently raised my body from hers, only leaving the spurting tip of my cock in her mouth.

She firmly closed her legs at the same time she opened her mouth to take full my spending in and swallowing the full blast. We lay on our sides After a few minutes of rest, me kissing her crotch and thighs, and her cleaning my shriveled manhood dry with her mouth and tongue. I turned around on the bed to position myself head to head with her, and we rested caressing and pecking each other without a word.

"So...," she wrinkled her brow and quietly asked, "Where do we find ourselves?

"What do you mean?"

"I mean our families back in the States; we have to go explain things like our divorces sooner or later. What are we going to say to our sons, daughters, and to our parents."

I cocked my head at her. "I love you, you love me, and I don't give a rat's ass about anything else, my love. I've been away from you for years and I worship you as I have not worshiped any other woman. Besides, I want to marry you."

We slept wrapped in a tangle of arms and legs, replete in the excesses of our lust and united in our shared love.

O—Decisions

It was a long winter. We phoned home several times, mostly to our parents so that they would not be worried all the time. Moira spoke to her children once and they were as receptive and concerned about her health and well-being as when their father beat her, meaning not at all. That was the first and last time she talked to her children, all of them adults by now, but she couldn't help the anguish and regret she felt over their indifference. She then had attacks of depression, with tears and sobs at any moment, a state that lasted several weeks. I did my best to console her and we had lengthy conversations about our respective families and our past lives. She didn't bother to talk to her husband.

We only received two phone calls; one from my wife and one from Moira's husband; both had been served with the divorce papers and both were furious. We told them we wanted nothing for ourselves and they could keep any possessions we had; we just wanted to divorce and close that part of our lives.

We decided in March that it was time to go back to the States and finalize all the legal issues there, divorces and such, then come back to our new home. I was adamant once in the States and Moira's divorce was final that her husband and children would learn about her change for the better of her financial status, and that they would be so far from her money that they would never see a penny.

Before we left for the States, we decided to talk to our lawyer, Mr. Hotchkins, and ask him for the best way to secure our heritage in both our names according to British law. He was most anxious to be of help in the matter. It wasn't difficult to understand why when one considers that we would be his biggest clients for years. Mr. Hotchkins came to our house this time, the former McIllroy house, and after we had explained what we wanted regarding the handling and securing of the money and properties bestowed to us, he explained the several options we had and the best one for us.

"First" he ponderously said, "We have to be very clear on the different aspects of British law concerning money investments and the best option for keep that money safe, not only from the state, but from outside factors."

"What do you mean by outside factors?" Ian spoke first.

"I'm referring to family, partners, or the markets, when I refer to outside factors. Capital markets are very volatile right now, as you may know."

We kept an attentive silence. So he continued his discourse.

"In the United Kingdom, and Scotland, of course, there exist by law, Private Limited Companies with shares – minimum 1 share, maximum unlimited. This means a limited company is a legal entity, which in the eyes of the law, is a separate 'person'. This basic principle means that a company can hold assets in its own right, conduct business, employ people, it can sue and be sued, and more importantly, it can outlive its directors and shareholders. But most importantly, is the principle of 'limited liability'. This means that the shareholders/owners of a business as a 'limited company' don't risk their own personal assets should the company fail and enter bankruptcy."

We looked at him as if he was talking in Latin, we didn't understand anything.

"Let me explain the legal aspects so you may understand it better. You could create one or several Limited Companies with two shares, one for each of you. We make the Companies the administrator of your assets, then after a time, we create another one and put most of your properties in it. With you the shareholders, nobody can touch your money, except the two of you."

Ian looked at Moira, "What do you say?"

"I don't completely understand the concept; I suggest Mr. Hotchkins prepare a draft for us to study when we return from the States, then make the final decision; what do you think?"

"That's OK with me," Ian said, and turning his attention to the lawyer, he said "My explicit request is for you to prepare the documents in such a way that only Moira and I can have access to the money or property."

"Yes, yes of course, that's as good as done. Now do you know when you're leaving and returning?"

"We know when we are leaving, in about 15 days; we're not sure about our return, maybe in a month or a month and a half or two, depending on the resolution of the issues we have there."

"Well, I have a little piece of advice; you would like to be legally married, wouldn't you?"

We looked at each other, and it was Moira who answered him, "Yes, we would like that very much, but I suppose even in Great Britain there are laws that forbid family weddings."

"Yes, they exist, but you being 'cousins'," and he winked an eye at that, "You could marry using the Edward the eighth prerogative for cousins to marry..."

We incredulously looked at him with our mouths gaping open.

"Yes, despite the long list of degrees of forbidden relationships, you can marry a cousin, courtesy of Henry VIII, who changed the law so he could marry his cousin, However, it would be sensible for you both to consult your personal physicians to ensure that there are no factors in your health records that would make any desire to have children inadvisable on medical grounds."

P—The end

We stayed at a hotel once in the States, while the issues of our divorces were resolved. We only kept contact with our parents and our lawyers, and I received a great surprise one afternoon; my son came to see me and talk to me. He told me of his mother's less than appropriate behavior before I went to Scotland and while I was away. All her fight went away when I presented this evidence to our lawyers, and she agreed to a fast and silent divorce. Moira's husband didn't even open his mouth when the lawyers put her medical records from Scotland before the judge.

A couple weeks into our stay at the hotel, Moira came to my room early, very early, one morning, looking tired and with her face showing signs of having had morning sickness, but with a huge smile in her eyes. She didn't say anything; she didn't have to, I took her in my arms and only asked her, "When, how long?"

"Two months already." Our dreams come true.





