Chapter One
We greet each other the way brothers do.
“You look older than Bob Barker.”
“When did your dog learn to talk?”
We both laugh and hug each other.
Nathaniel is my ‘little’ brother. I’ve always called him Nat, and never Nate. Other than having the same last name, we are very different. For one thing, he’s 5’10” and hates that I’m 4 inches taller. He’s always been in great shape. Me, not so much. He lifts weights. I lift my weight. He’s a talker. I’m more of a listener, at least compared to a guy who won’t shut up.
“Come on in Mitch,” he says, opening the door wider. “It’s great to see you.”
As I step inside, Nat squeezes back against the door frame with dramatic exaggeration.
“Can you get by me, you big slob?”
Brothers are like that. Men in general are like that. The more affection they feel for each other, the more insulting they become. Nat and I love each other, so the derision almost never stops.
“I’m actually down a few pounds, imbecile.”
“Really? Your boobs look bigger than Bella’s.”
Bella is his wife. Officially she is Mirabella, and his second wife. Actually, now that I think about it, she is his third. And there had been some other serious relationships after his first dumpster fire of a marriage. And probably some after the extremely brief and forgettable second marriage. But Bella is a keeper. Ten years younger than Nat, she’s a sweetheart. She manages to keep him in line, and still let Nat be Nat. She’s Hispanic, and I’ve wondered if her background is a factor in putting up with his machismo. The common denominator in the failed marriages was my brother. That’s why a terrific woman like Bella, loving my brother so much, gives me reassurance that he wasn’t the main problem.
“Take a load off, and I’ll get us a beer.” Nat points to the brace of brown leather recliners, facing the fireplace. I sit, and wait until he brings me a can of something I’d never heard of, with a ridiculously stupid name.
Back to our differences. To start out with, I’m still married to the same woman I met in college. We’ve been together nearly 25 years. She doesn’t care too much for my brother. Says he’s a bad influence on me. She tolerates him. That’s why I’m here alone. At least once a year, I spend a week at his place, and we reconnect. We go fishing, hit the links, shoot skeet, drink beer, reminisce, and smoke cigars. It’s about the only time I get to do most of those things. Not that I couldn’t if I wanted to, but life is busy with other stuff.
When I got out of college, I went into business. Did okay for myself. Nat calls it the soft life. That’s because when he got out of college, he went to officer training school. He spent the next 10 years in the Marines, and then went into the reserves where he topped out at Lieutenant Colonel. He’s four years younger than me. He’s in a second career. A security company. He’s doing well.
“So, you lost some weight.” There was some implied skepticism. “Good for you. Did you finally get off your fat ass and use my training regimen?”
Before I can answer, he answers for me. “I’m sure you didn’t. You probably went on Jenny Craig, like a pussy.”
“Don’t talk that way when ladies are present.” The admonishing voice came from behind us. I stand up.
“Great to see you Bella,” I say, making my way toward her.
And it is. She has a refreshing, natural beauty. No pretense. Nothing like Nat’s first wife, Madison. Everything was fake, from her boobs to her personality. Nat was all in favor of the boob job. But that installation was the beginning of the end for the marriage. Sometimes when you get something new, you want to show it off. That was Maddy. She put them on display and started sleeping with any man who caught her fancy whenever Nat was gone. I’m pretty sure she carried on with a couple of women too. Eventually Nat found out and it was over.
I don’t remember much about wife #2. She was Nat’s rebound. The opposite of Maddy in the most obvious ways. Identical in the crazy. That marriage didn’t last a year.
In contrast to those two, Bella is real. Her dark hair, brown skin, and flashing white teeth warm my heart. And when she smiles, I can’t help but smile too. She’s short, which seems to soothe Nat’s ego, height-wise. She is also full-figured. Any extra pounds are in all the right places. Her boobs are definitely bigger than mine. Always have been. Always will be.
“The best looking brother is always welcome,” she retorts. And we hug. Bella is witty, but also smart enough not to say something like welcoming the ‘taller brother.’ Nat couldn’t take that.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” she says releasing the embrace, “I’m just going to start dinner.”
I jump in. “Oh, but I was going to take you two out.”
“Maybe another day,” she responds, “it’s Friday night, and I like to cook for my men.” As she heads for the kitchen, she calls back over her shoulder, “You better be hungry.”
I know I am. Bella is a good cook. My Linda is pretty good too. She just doesn’t enjoy cooking. I try my hand at it, but we eat out or order in a lot. My eyes follow Bella all the way out of the room. She’s wearing jeans that show off her backside. As it sways out of sight, I feel something stirring that shouldn’t stir when looking at your sister-in-law. Nat seems not to notice.
He asks, “So how’s the exciting world of spreadsheets and profit-margins?”
“Not as lucrative as installing cameras in people’s homes, I see.” That is how I acknowledge his newly installed pool, which I spot through the French doors to the right of the fireplace.
We swap work stories for a bit. Nat mostly complains about how hard it is to find good employees.
“Hey,” I say, getting out of the chair, “I think we should go in the kitchen and help Bella. I can’t tolerate just sitting here while she does all the work.”
Nat shrugs, but by way of agreement says, “I need another beer anyway.”
I follow him into the kitchen, but refuse the second beer. I’m still nursing whatever the hell it was he gave me the first time.
“Bella,” I ask, “I want to help. Please put me to work!”
She flashes me that smile. “You’re so sweet. Apparently you weren’t raised by wolves like your brother.”
“I’m here to help too,” Nat says defensively. “He’s mostly here to gaze at your outrageous beauty…and booty.”
I feel my face burn just a bit from what might be close to the truth.
“Not that I can blame him,” he adds, giving her rear a loving pat. “You are the hottest babe I’ve ever known.”
“You’ve always been a smooth talker, honey.” Then to me she says, “I’m making Paella, along with roasted corn. It’s all under control. The food I mean, not my husband.”
“There must be something I can do,” I plead, “I mean about the food, not my brother. I want to earn my keep.”
She giggles. “You could mix up a pitcher of Margaritas. Oh, and if you want something to take the edge off your hunger, try my Bunuelos.”
“Yes,” mocks Nat, “try her Bunuelos.” He points at her butt and laughs. It’s a juvenile comment, and makes my brother sound like a jerk, but I know he can’t help himself. Meanwhile, Bella ignores that and uncovers a plate of the yummy looking treat, and pushes it in my direction.
“I’m a sucker for anything fried and covered in cinnamon sugar,” I say, taking a bite.
After consuming more than my share of fried dough, I get to work on the Margaritas. All the while, the smell of the meat, herbs, and spices from the Paella makes me even hungrier.
Finally, we sit down at the table. Everything is delicious, and I say so. My brother agrees, and Bella appreciates the comments. The pitcher of Margaritas disappears, and conversation flows.
“Why don’t you make us another round, big brother?” Nat grins. “Get her drunk enough and she’ll be swinging from that stripper pole in our bedroom tonight.”
My eyes get wide and I make a face that might be a cross between hope, incredulity, and curiosity.
Bella swats her husband, and then glances at me. “He’s not serious, Mitch. You don’t think…there’s no such…imagine me on a stripper pole,” she says dismissively.
Actually, I was doing so at that very moment. It is something I would very much like to see. But I don’t say that out loud. What I manage to say is…
“I’m sure you’d be great on a pole…uh…as a stripper…”
Nat laughs until he couldn’t breathe. Bella blushes.
“What I mean is, you’d look great doing anything you wanted to do.” Not my best save.
“Um, thanks?” She scrunches up her face in a way that communicates embarrassment. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I made Tres Leches for dessert. Honey, why don’t you brew some decaf to go with it?”
As Nat makes coffee, I clear the table, and Bella puts away the leftovers. It didn’t take long before we each have a slice of cake and a steaming cup of decaf in front of us.
“Delicious,” I exclaim. “This is one of Linda’s favorites. She would love this.”
“I’m always sorry when she doesn’t come with you,” Bella replies, “we have a good time together while you guys are off doing boy stuff.”
“She likes you too,” I say, trying not to emphasize the fact that it was only my brother Linda didn’t care for. “but, you know, she was too busy to get away.”
“Things going okay with you two?” Nat asks with a rare touch of concern and insight.
“Sure, um, things are fine.”
There was a little silence. I was wondering what to say when Nat breaks in.
“So can you stay all week? Like at least through next Saturday?”
“That’s the plan, if you’ll have me.”
“Of course! We’ve got a lot to fit in. I can’t take off from work the whole time, but we’ll be able to golf and fish and whatever else you want to do.”
Bella stands up. “You guys plan out your week. I’ve got a few things to finish, and then I’m going to bed.” She kisses Nat, and gives me a peck on the cheek. “You know where you room is, Mitch. Same as always. Towels are on the bed. Get up whenever you want to in the morning.”
When she’s gone, Nat leads me back to the recliners. Before sitting down, he goes to the bar, grabs two tumblers, and pours two fingers of whisky in each. He hands me one. We sip in silence for a few moments.
“Spill the beans, bro.”
“About what?”
“Something’s not quite right in Mitchellville. Trouble with America’s oldest married couple?”
I sigh. “Not really…” After a pause, I add, “The truth is that aging is a real bummer.”
“Don’t I know it. Having a younger wife is what keeps me going.” He pauses, and gives me a serious look. “But I think you’ve got it good. Linda’s no slouch. She’s always been a good looking woman. And she’s in a lot better shape than you, my Pillsbury dough brother.”
“Yeah, it’s Pilates or Peleton or some other ‘p’ word. I’m as attracted to her now, as I ever was.”
“Despite the fact that she doesn’t admire me, I’ve appreciated her. She’s been good to you. You got it right the first time, big brother. I had a few swings and misses before hitting a home run.”
“And you connected big time, Nat. Bella’s great, and great for you.”
“So what is it? If you can’t tell me, who you gonna call?”
I don’t say a word as I weigh my options. Truthfully, there is no one else I can unload on. And I realize I need to get this off my chest.
“You can’t tell anyone,” I threaten. “Not even Bella. I’ll kick your ass!”
Nat snickers. “Right. You haven’t been able to take me since we were teens. You’re taller, older, heavier, and I could kill you with one hand while blindfolded. Just tell me.”
I sigh again. This sigh seems to expel all the air from my body, along with all resistance.
“We were looking forward to this,” I begin, “this was going to be our time. And then Linda hit menopause early, even that seemed to be a good thing. No more birth control, no more condoms. We’ve always had a good sex life. Now it would be better. The house to ourselves. Less pressure at work. More recreational sex.”
“Sounds good so far.”
“Yeah, except that the opposite happened. Menopause changed her body. One day things are fine, the next, she…it’s…she’s…”
“What?”
“Sex became excruciating…for her. She was shocked by it. She said no one ever warned her the change of life might really change her life in a bad way.”
I feel words tumble out of me. Words I’d heard from Linda, I now say out loud to my brother. “Elasticity gone. No natural lubrication. Lack of desire. Burning pain. It hit all at once.”
“Did she see her doctor?”
“Yeah, her gynecologist gave her a prescription to try. But it didn’t help much, if at all. The thing is…it started a chain reaction.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t handle the thought of hurting her. She wants me to gently push through the pain. Pain she identifies as ‘excruciating,’ but I can’t. I immediately go flaccid. It’s like a mental block. She says we’ve got to keep trying or it won’t get any better, and I can’t keep trying. Physically hurting someone, especially the woman I love, is not something I can do.”
“Gee, so these really aren’t your golden years.”
“No,” I snap, “they don’t make the medal stand. I haven’t had an orgasm this entire year.”
That is more than I’d intended to reveal.
“No need to exaggerate,” Nat scoffs.
“I wish I was. Other than a few times I jerked off on her tits, I’m basically an incel.”
“That’s ridiculous. You’re married. She has a pretty mouth. That still works.”
“Yeah, about that. Linda has always hated blowjobs. That was another reason I was looking forward to this time of carefree intercourse. She likes me to go down on her, but reciprocating…well, it doesn’t spark joy.”
“Wow. It must be bad if she won’t even do it when things are desperate. You never told me about that.”
“I didn’t see the point in you or anyone else needing to know that information.”
“I get it,” Nat replies. “Honestly, it’s not something I’ve run into. Most of the women I’ve been with, gave every indication that they enjoyed oral sex. I gotta tell you, when Bella sucks me off, it usually makes her super horny.”
“Don’t rub it in.”
There is more silence. We sip our drinks. I am appreciating the whisky much more than the beer, or even the Margarita.
Nat is the first to speak. “You two have other possibilities. What about ana…”
I cut him off. “That’s not an option. I don’t want to try it and she doesn’t want me to. So that door is closed.”
“Gotcha. The back door is shut,” Nat smirks.
“This isn’t helping.”
“Sorry bro. I feel your frustration. I’m glad you told me though. And, I’m impressed.”
“About what?”
“I had no idea you were packing. That must be a sizable salami to cause excruciating pain.”
“That’s not it, dumb ass.” But I know he’s joking and trying to lighten my mood. So I chuckle.
“I’d take you to a titty bar for some stress relief, but Bella would kill me.”
“Linda would kill me. And then she would dig up your body and kill you again.”
“So, that idea is probably not worth it,” grins Nat. “How about we turn in? Get some sleep, so we can get in all 18 holes tomorrow. Tee time is 10:00. So forget what Bella said about getting up whenever.”
We say goodnight. I stay awake long enough to text Linda. Tell her I love and miss her. She texts the same. I believe her. Eventually, I go down the hall to the bathroom. I can hear whispers and playful noises coming from Nat’s bedroom.
“At least somebody’s still having a good time,” I think.
Chapter Two
I wake up to the smell of coffee. When I make it into the kitchen, Nat is on his second cup. I’m still a little bleary eyed from all the alcohol the previous night. It was a lot more than I usually drank.
“Sleep well, big brother?”
“Ahhh, good stuff,” I breathe, as I sip the piping hot nectar of the caffeine gods. “Slept fine. You?”
“Like the dead,” he smiles. “English Muffin?”
I take a half, butter it, and spread on a little strawberry jam.
“And there’s my queen,” Nat announces as Bella walked in.
Her dark hair is tousled, and she’s wearing a bathrobe. The robe hangs open, covering what looks like a tee shirt. I can see her breasts jiggling as she heads for the coffee. The tee shirt falls to just above her knees. Bella is not put together to face the day, and yet sexy as hell.
“I don’t handle tequila very well,” she groans.
“But it makes you handle so well,” quips Nat.
She blushes. “You’re such a perv.”
“And you love it.”
“I love you, despite your pervyness.”
“Whatever, babe. You gonna be okay while we’re out golfing?”
“No problem. I’ve got things to do. When will you be back?”
“Probably about 3. We’ll grab a sandwich before hitting the back nine.”
I speak up. “Let’s go out to dinner tonight. It’ll feel good to shower, change, and go to a nice place,” I reason. “And it would make me happy to be seen in public with a beautiful woman, even accompanied by her idiot husband.”
“Sounds good!” Bella says with enthusiasm.
Golf took forever. I remember why I only pick up the clubs when I’m with my brother. The game is long, expensive, and rather humiliating. I gladly toss my bag into the back of Nat’s SUV. I breathe a sigh of relief as I buckle myself in.
“Mitch, I’ve never seen someone, other than you, so consistently draw blood while golfing.”
“At least I excel at something.” I wince as I touch the deep scratch on my forearm.
“You should have left that ball in the woods. It was a lost cause.”
“It was my last one.”
Nat snorts. “Can’t have a brother without any balls.”
Bella isn’t there when we get home. I feel dehydrated, and drink a couple glasses of water. Then I decide to lay down on the bed. My back is sore from all the wild swings. Using my phone, I explore nearby restaurants, and locate a couple of good possibilities. Before I know it, I’m asleep. It’s one of those times when I’m in and out of consciousness, and able to realize I’m snoozing. About an hour later, an urgent need to pee wakes me up. I take care of business, and then decide to shower and shave. I put on the nicest clothes I have with me. Dark blue slacks, collared white shirt, blue and black patterned sport coat.
I wait in the living room. When Nat appears, he’s wearing a golf shirt and black jeans.
“Going someplace fancy, are we?”
“Not really. There’s a steak place and an Italian bistro I’m suggesting. Both seem like jacket-wearing places.”
“I’ll put one on,” Nat says as he heads to his bedroom, “I’ll let Bella decide between the two, but I think she leans Italian.”
And she does.
We settle in a booth. I order a bottle of wine. We get started on it when the freshly baked bread and house salads arrive. Eventually, Bella orders Osso Buco. Nat gets chicken parmigiana. I go with grilled Tuscan steak, because I love beef. We laugh and linger over the meal. I want to order another bottle of wine, but they talk me out of it. I insist that we get dessert, and we all get cannoli. When the dessert arrives, Bella says she can’t fit in more than a single bite of hers. Nat and I don’t have that trouble.
It was quiet for a bit. Nat catches my eye, and leans in speaking softly. “Brother, you know I love you.”
“Yeah,” I reply. “It’s mutual. What? You need a loan?”
He smiles. “No. I need you to forgive me.”
“Of course. For what?”
“For doing what you told me not to do.”
I look from him to Bella and back again. I’m confused, and don’t know if I should be concerned.
“Last night,” he hesitates, “I told Bella about…your situation.”
I sit back in my chair. Anger boils inside. My stomach churns. I can feel my heart thumping in my chest. I can’t believe it. My brother betrayed me. I can’t look at him. I can’t look at Bella. I stare at my cannoli. This is not a euphemism.
Spitting out the words slowly, I say, “That was between us, Nat. I should never have told you.”
“Yes, you should have. It was the right thing. We’re brothers. I would die for you,” he says solemnly.
I lift my head and meet his gaze. I believe him. I feel the same way, although right now I want to kill him too. It’s difficult to define whether I’m ashamed, frustrated, furious or all the above.
“I…we…have a proposal,” Nat continues. He looks at Bella, and she nods. “My gorgeous wife, would be glad to…give you…some relief.”
Of all the things I might have expected my brother to say, this would not have made the list. My mouth falls open. The blood drains away from my extremities. A shiver runs through my body. I wonder if I am going into shock. My brain starts searching for words, but nothing emerges.
“Can I get you anything else, sir?” The pretty server appears tableside without me noticing. I jump slightly, and manage to close my gaping mouth.
“Um, no…thank you…I’ll…uh…take the check.”
“Very good sir.”
The interruption serves to break the log jam in my mind.
“Why?” And that one-word question is the sum total of my eloquence.
“I told you that I love you, bro. Everything I have is yours. And Bella, she loves you too.”
“I do,” she agrees. “I wouldn’t even think such a thing, until my husband asked. But when he asked, I am happy to do it. For him. And for you.” She reaches out and touches my cold, cadaver-like hand.
“What, uh, kind of relief?”
Nat looks at his wife.
“The kind you’re missing.”
“Well, after golf today I need a back adjustment,” My smart ass-ness is because I’m too afraid of what I ask next. “Or, is it…sex we’re talking about?”
“Depends on what your definition of ‘is’ is,” quips Nat.
“Not intercourse,” Bella whispers.
“Of course not,” I say without any of the disappointment I feel. “What is it that you’re talking about then?”
“A blowjob,” Nat explained. “Oral is one of many things my wife is good at. And it is something she enjoys. Why not share with someone who needs it?”
For some reason, as I try to assimilate this information, my mind lurches back decades. One summer when I was home from college, I met a redhead whose name I no longer remember. I spotted her in the mall with a group of girls. Confident college guy that I was, I boldly approached her and started talking. She felt safe enough with three friends around. I talked to her like she was the only girl in the world. I took the whole group to the food court, bought everyone something, and with patient generosity ended up with her number.
It was the second date before I learned she had just graduated high school. She looked older than that, in all the right ways. Turned out, she was closer to my brother’s age, and had just turned 18. On the fourth date we had sex. I might have been her first, but that’s just a guess. I taught her everything I knew. She was a quick study, and ended up teaching me some things too. We dated that whole summer and shared a lot of orgasms.
I knew it would be over once I went back to school. And it was. Her plan was to work a year before going away to school. By the next summer, I discovered that Nat was dating her. At first I thought it might be that competition thing between brothers. Was he trying to prove he could get the same girls I could? Or was she trying to get back at me by dating my brother? But I could tell he was quite taken with her, and she with him. I could also tell they were having sex. It felt weird to know that we had both been with the same girl. If she was comparing, she likely appreciated the upgrade. Even then, his body was better than mine. He was sculpted from all those hours in the weight room.
Nat and I never talked about the redhead. Somehow it ended between them. After Linda and I got married, I learned from a friend that the redhead had gotten pregnant. It was some older married man who refused responsibility. She kept the baby, and kept on living with her parents, trying to make ends meet. I felt sorry for her, but was glad the baby wasn’t Nat’s…or mine.
Bella brings me back to the present. “I’m sure you realize that your brother was not my first oral experience,” she says softly. “My first was in high school. But I didn’t realize how enjoyable it was until college. Those were wild times.” I find myself watching her mouth as she talks. I’m already envisioning how this could happen.
“I satisfied a few long term boyfriends before I met Nat,” she continued. “They could provide additional references if you wish,” she stated, smiling at her little joke.
“It…this is too…” I stammer, “I don’t know…weird?”
“I agree,” Bella answers, “but it was Nat’s idea. And I don’t see the harm. Since I have his permission and I’m willing. Also, it’s probably not something Linda needs to learn about.”
“You know, when you guys gave us Tesla stock last Christmas, I thought that was generous…but this.”
Nat laughs. Bella does too. Then she opens her purse, pulls up a compact, and deftly reapplies her lipstick. She presses her lips together, and glances at me. The look in her eyes knocks the air out of my lungs. There is hunger and satisfaction, power and vulnerability all mingling together.
“Unless you’re a complete moron, and say no, then…tonight is your lucky night,” announces my brother. “You can enjoy an hour in your bedroom together…alone. I’m not into watching. That’s not my kink. I just want to know that my brother gets his rocks off. And who better to make that happen than the magnificent Mirabella.”
I can’t pay the check fast enough. The restaurant is less than three miles from their house. It feels like forever. But when we get there, I start to lose my nerve.
“Hey, um, if it’s ok with you,” I say to both of them, “I’m gonna take another shower.”
Bella smiles.
Nat shakes his head. “Whatever floats your boat, Captain Ahab.”
I stumble into the bathroom and strip off my clothes. I brush my teeth and my tongue so hard it hurts. I turn on the shower as hot as I can stand, and scrub my already clean body. When I’m done, I towel off as dry as possible in the steam-filled room. I wrap a towel around my waist, pick up the pile of clothes and return to my room. I find an appropriate place for everything in my hands and then ponder what to wear. I start with clean underwear. Then I just pull on a clean golf shirt. And I don’t know what to do next. Do I call out to my brother’s wife and say, “Bella, I’m ready for you to come to my room and suck me off.” Probably not.
So I wait. I stand facing the door for a bit. After a while I decide to sit on the bed. At that point I wonder if this was all a practical joke, or that maybe I’m dreaming the whole thing, and still napping after my golf outing. Then I hear a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” I breathe, wondering if it was my brother or his wife.
It was Bella. She steps into the room wearing…exactly what she wore to the restaurant. I realize I was expecting something else. Lingerie? Stark naked? But she looks ready to go out on the town.
“Hi Mitchell.” Her greeting sounds both sexy and innocent. “Why don’t you turn on some music for us?” She points to my phone.
I fumble with it, wondering what Spotify playlist was conducive for a blowjob from your sister-in-law. I settle on some light jazz, turned up the volume, set the phone on the night table, and stand to face her.
And there she is. Right in front of me. She smells wonderful. Her eyes are bright, and there is happiness in them. She smiles. Her full lips part to reveal her teeth like a string of dazzling pearls. She bites her lower lip and returns my stare. Emboldened, I let my eyes drift downward. I can see stiff nipples managing to poke through her bra and the satiny blouse she’s wearing. This sight overcomes my nerves, and my cock starts growing in response.
My eyes slide farther down. The dark skirt still clings to her. It stops mid-thigh. She’s wearing these stocking with stripes. All evening, as we traveled to and from the restaurant and through dinner, I snuck glances, mesmerized by this look. I am inspecting her legs openly now. The stripes are vertical. They alternate between dark and transparent. It’s like a walking billboard that screams “look at me.” At least that’s the signal I get. Suddenly, I feel self-conscious. After all, I’m in my underwear. She’s fully dressed.
I look back up to her eyes. She smiles in an inviting way.
“There are some ground rules, Mitch.”
I gulp, and nod in agreement. I figured there would be.
“First, I’m not getting naked.”
I try to hide my disappointment, as I shrug to indicate understanding.
“Second, you shouldn’t do anything to me.”
I look puzzled.
“I mean, you can’t be trying to feel me all up, sticking your fingers where they don’t belong.”
I nod, but also feel like this is a buzz kill. What guy doesn’t want to fondle tits and ass?
“Third, you can’t cum on my face or hair, and certainly not on my clothes.”
Now I start wondering what the hell is going to happen, when she says…
“You can cum in my mouth.”
That sound you hear is my erection getting concrete hard while still trapped in my underwear.
I can count on two hands the number of times I’ve shot my load in a woman’s mouth. Only a couple of those were Linda. That was all the proof my wife needed to be fully convinced that this wasn’t her thing. Now, here is my sister-in-law, hotter than a jalapeno, telling me she swallows. Well, she hasn’t said that exactly. That’s my interpretation.
I nod again. Stupidly. Like I’m agreeing with a waiter asking if I want more coffee. I raise my hand, like a student.
“Yes, Mitchell?” She says in a teacherly voice.
“Is it okay if we like kiss? I mean, I want to get the image of a sister out of my head. So I’d like us to really kiss…unless that’s against the ground rules.”
She smiles, and gives a little shrug. “I see what you mean. You want this to be intimate but not familial. This isn’t sister and brother, and certainly not…shall we say…service provider and client. So yes. I suppose kissing is permissible.”
I felt myself grin. Stupidly. Like I’m being told I can have another cookie after recess, type of grin.
I reach for her hand, as I circle her waist with my other arm. She takes my hand and begins swaying to the music with me. Swaying is my best dance move. Honestly, it’s my only dance move. But it seems like a good next step. I pull her close. I can feel her nipples pressing against my chest. I resist the urge to reach down to feel her full, curvaceous backside. I’m a rule-follower.
She should have no trouble sensing my arousal. That part of me is so rigid, it’s actually keeping us apart. Bella doesn’t seem to mind. Her head is on my shoulder. We are making a lot of body-to-body contact. She feels warm. She smells fantastic. She is the only woman, other than Linda, I’ve held like this in forever. It’s an intoxicating feeling. I might be a little dizzy.
I stare into her eyes with the intensity of high beams on a dark country road. She lifts her head off my chest and stares back. I don’t rush. I focus on her right eye, then her lips, then her left eye, and cycle through again. I lick my own lips. Suggestively, I hope. She bites on her lower one. This is full of suggestions.
Finishing the staring contest, I tilt my head down and kiss her. Bella’s lips meet mine and my legs go weak. I’ve never had a woman turn me to jelly that way. It might be the whole taboo thing that’s effecting me. It might be just how incredible Bella is. My kisses are tender and tentative at first. But the passion grows, and eventually my mouth tries to devour hers. Meanwhile, there’s a cattle prod between my legs, intent on pushing us apart.
My tongue thrusts into her mouth and she doesn’t resist. In fact, she sucks on it. Then her tongue thrusts right back at me. I keep my hands at 10 and 2, and then they slip to more like 9 and 5. I sense this is too far. She pushes away from me, her eyes shining, her chest heaving.
“Careful, Mitch. Don’t get over eager.” She takes a deep breath. “That’s enough kissing. Let’s get down to business.”
Ordinarily, that would have been a very disappointing sentence. Except, I knew what the business was supposed to be. And it’s a business I’m very invested in seeing succeed. In fact, I’m hoping to franchise it. I don’t know if that simile works, but you get the idea.
“I think I’ve initiated your launch sequence,” Bella says slyly, eying my bulging underwear.
“I am…uh…glad to see you.” My wit is a little less than sharp when all the blood is surging to that part of my anatomy.
“It’s time for Bella to see the size of the job,” she says, and slips her fingers around my waistband. She pulls out the front and peeks down.
“Oh, my! You really are the big brother, aren’t you?”
This was new news. Contrary to whatever women might think, not too many straight men have an idea what an erect penis looks like, other than their own or in porn. And everyone knows how true to real life porn is.
I’ve dressed in a lot of locker rooms. Played sports all through high school and college. I’ve seen a lot of naked men. All flaccid. Thankfully. As long as I stay out of prison, I plan on keeping that record intact. How big is the average guy? I don’t know. How big am I? I don’t know. When it comes to measuring a penis, where do you start? I don’t know. Bigger than a Tootsie Roll, smaller than a loaf of Italian bread. I’d call it 6 inches. Half a foot sounds better. Girth? I don’t know. Thicker than a roll of quarters. Thinner than a thermos.
So I certainly have no idea what size my brother is when erect. But apparently, I might have an inch or two on him that way too. If true, it is a little boost to my ego. It’s also something I hope Nat doesn’t find out. I’m not warning Bella about that now. I’m too eager to see what comes next. Hopefully me.
Bella unveils me. I am impressed with myself. I look bigger than I ever remember being. My penis looks like it’s wearing a combat helmet. The tip is swollen, with an angry red hue from being trapped in my clothes. Now free, it is pulsating. I admire it, and feel a little proud of how it looks. Glancing at Bella, she appears interested.
I want to say, “Hey lady, my eyes are up here,” but I don’t, because I’m not a complete moron.
She wraps her hand around my stiffness, and strokes me up and down slowly. Once, twice, three times. Her touch is so soft and silky smooth. As rigid as I am, the sensation is amazing. In my experience, few women can give a hand job as well as I can administer it myself. But right now, I think Bella could manage. However, something more pleasurable is offered, and I’m anxious to experience that.
Bella stops stroking, but still holds me in her hand as she kneels down. That simple movement captivates me. There is something about a woman on her knees that drives me wild. I suppose it’s the male fantasy of receiving attention from a willingly submissive female. One who freely, eagerly is ready to service me. Patriarchal? Sure. Pleasurable? Absolutely.
Her eyes are wide as she looks up at me. Her hand directs my penis toward her lips. She places the tiniest kiss directly on the tip. The combat helmet is ready for battle. She tilts her head away, and I can see a string of pre-cum transferring from me to her. Bella’s tongue finds this thread of fluid and tastes it. She smiles like I’ve given her a gift.
“I like how you taste.”
I don’t know how to respond to that, although I think: There’s more where that came from.
Sticking out the tip of her tongue, she touches it to my glans. And then she traces the ridge all the way around, leaving it wet with her saliva. I close my eyes involuntarily. Immediately I open them again, not wanting to miss the visual sensation. Her eyes are still on me. I smile back in a manner akin to worship.
Bella sucks my glans between her lips. It slides into her obscenely. We are intimately connected, and yet the space between us is the length of the rest of my shaft. She holds me there. I could be immobilized that way forever. Only my bulbous head is in her mouth. She explores the tip with her tongue. She pokes into my urethra. It’s almost like she’s trying to enter me there. It’s a sensation I’ve never felt. It’s thrilling and scary all at once.
Her head bobs down past the glans slightly, and then back up. On her next downward move, I try to push more deeply into her mouth, but she resists. She repeats this again and again. Her free hand finds my testicles and fondles them. I’m helpless.
Just when I feel overcome with sexual frustration, Bella takes more of me into her mouth. The slippery warmth makes me gasp. With each bob of her head, her depth increases, until finally she reaches the root of my manhood. The pace of her sucking intensifies. An irresistible combination of sound, sight, and sensation cascades over me.
Bella wordlessly, energetically, tenaciously assaults my senses with her mouth. I want this to last forever. Of course, that’s impossible for countless reasons. Physical, relational, practical, psychological reasons. Before it’s too late, I decide to let her know her work is about to pay off.
“Bella, I’m cumming,” I groan. But this was no longer news. By the time the words come out, I am already shooting a stream into her mouth. Each succeeding squirt hits the back of her throat. I feel her gulp a couple of times, and imagine my seed empting into her stomach. I don’t move, and neither does Bella. She waits until I stop pulsating, and then slowly pulls away from me. She releases my semi-erect penis with a pop. Still looking up at me, she opens her mouth. Pooled inside is at least some of my most recent deposit. Not federally insured. She stares me down, closes her mouth and swallows. She opens her mouth again, as if I need proof positive.
I want to do something for her, to her. But that’s out of bounds. I even considered applauding, but that seems insufficient. I decide to talk instead. Not always the best choice.
“That is…by far…the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.” My words are completely honest, and deeply sincere. “It means more to me than you can imagine. Thank you!”
She smiles. “You’re welcome.”
“I wish I could return the favor and make you feel this good too, but I’ll follow the rules.”
“Good boy,” she replies as I help her to her feet. “I’m sure you would be only too happy to do to me what I’ve done to you. But this was supposed to be one-sided.”
“I’m leaving a 5-star review for this visit,” I say, attempting to relieve the awkwardness I’m starting to feel, and then realize I’m only making it worse. “Not that…uh…you do this for all the guests.”
“No. You’re the first,” she whispers, and her lips brush against mine in a kiss that is as brief as it is unexpected. I catch a whiff of sperm. It causes a wave of erotic fever to wash over me.
“I’ll never forget,” I respond.
With her hand on the door knob, Bella says, “Your stay isn’t over just yet,” and winks as she turns and leaves me standing bottomless, satiated, and wondering if this could ever happen again.