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Rachel
by Timberwolf (ptotrcw@gmail.com)
Full Edited Version

***

A man meets his sister who he thought had been dead 
all his life and their lives are changed after being 
reunited. (Mf, underage, inc, 1st, bi, oral, rom)

***

Author Note: The usual disclaimers apply. If you don't 
like what you're reading, bugger off. There is some 
pretty descriptive stuff in this story. You have been 
warned. Feedback is always appreciated, so don't be 
shy, and I will answer any emails. ptotrcw@gmail.com.

***

-= Chapter One =-

Rachel Higgins was a small girl. At sixteen, she had 
the body and looks of a twelve year old. Flat-chested, 
she was thin, and gangly. She stood at maybe five-two, 
but seemed smaller, because she'd walk fast, her head 
down, her long auburn hair covering her face, and she 
wore glasses. She was incredibly bright, with an I.Q. 
that made Einstein look like a coal miner, I heard on 
the neighbourhood grapevine, and she was so painfully 
shy, it was a shame to see her literally run from 
human contact.

She lived with her Mom and Dad a few doors down from 
me. My grandfather had bought the house I'm living in 
as a wedding present for my parents, and I was born 
and raised in it. Now, it was mine, and freehold.

Let me tell you a little about myself. My name is 
Alfred Marks, Alfie to my friends and my not-friends 
can call me what they like, I don't care. I'm six-two, 
wide shoulders tapering to a slim (ish) waist, and I 
work by doing odd jobs and casual work here in my home 
town. Even with the economy the way it is, I never go 
hungry, or miss a bill payment.

When my parents died when I was seventeen, their 
insurance paid off the house, and I have to tell you, 
don't always believe what the press tell you about 
bank managers, because the bank manager here in town 
took me into his office, sat me down, and explained to 
me how much was in my parents bank accounts, and gave 
me options on how to invest it. Good business 
practice, I thought. The money stayed in his bank, he 
got a cut from my investments in the way of interest, 
and I ultimately made on the deal.

So, at thirty-three, I could live comfortably if I 
wanted to. But, sitting on your ass all day is boring, 
and I liked to keep busy with my hands, as it also 
kept my mind busy as well. I won't tell you how much I 
have in the bank, but you can bet I really don't need 
to work. Let's just leave it at that, shall we?

I'm single, and prefer it that way. I suppose you 
could get all psychotherapist about it, and say that I 
was afraid that I'd turn out like my old man, but, I 
drank beer on occasion, though I usually stopped after 
about a half-dozen or so. I also drank white wine 
sometimes, just to treat myself at the dinner table. I 
don't like red wine, I never developed a taste for it.

Like I said, both my parents died when I was 
seventeen, killed in a car wreck. My dad, an asshole 
at home, and a perfect gentleman away from it, took my 
Mom out of town to go on a drinking binge with his 
buddies, lowlife's and losers, every one of them. He 
did that on a regular basis, so no-one who knew him in 
town would know what he was really like.

People in town thought he was a regular guy, clean and 
sober, happy-go-lucky, but he was a devil in disguise, 
and made my Mom's and my life a living nightmare. He 
was an ugly violent drunk.

He would always force my Mom to go along, and leave me 
at home. He hated me. He blamed me for a lot of things 
while he was alive, one of them being the fact that I 
was an only child. Mom had got pregnant again when I 
was nearly sixteen, but the baby, a girl, had died the 
next day, they told us, and a nurse had taken the body 
away, and strangely, she never showed up for work the 
next day, telling Personnel that she was too 
traumatised by watching the baby die, so it was an 
empty casket we buried. Mom had complications during 
the birth, and to save her life, the doctors had to do 
a hysterectomy on her.

Dad, when he got drunk at home, which seemed to be all 
the time, would rant and rave at me, making me, a 
terrified young man, or teenager, take your pick, 
stand at the kitchen table and force me to listen to 
him yelling, telling me I had 'gutted' his mother, and 
I'd 'fucked up everything' for him. He had wanted a 
daughter, he used to cry into his booze, and I found 
out years later why. If he was still alive, I'd have 
killed him anyway.

I never knew what they did when Dad would force Mom to 
go with him, but he'd bring her home late at night, 
then while she'd run to the bathroom and make herself 
vomit into the toilet bowl, he'd be strutting around, 
cock-of-the-walk, and sneer at my Mom, telling her she 
was a 'cunt who'd got what she'd deserved', and mock 
her attempts to get clean, and she would spend hours 
in the bath, scrubbing herself, and weeping in shame.

It took me years to understand what that ammonia smell 
was that she'd reek of when she came home. Her face, 
hair, and clothes would be smeared, soaked, and matted 
with the stuff.

When Mom and Dad was coming home that last time, he 
was so drunk that no-one could understand how far 
they'd got before the wreck took their lives. He was 
literally pickled in alcohol. The car failed to take a 
corner, and went through a crash barrier, and plunged 
a hundred and twenty feet straight down like a falling 
star, and there literally wasn't much to save. The 
coroner found a large amount of seminal fluid in my 
Mom's vagina, and lots of it in her belly.

I managed to get my hands on the crash report, and the 
autopsy file, and they counted nineteen different 
sperm donors that had had their turn with my Mom. I 
wanted to dig the bastard up, and burn his bones to 
ashes, and then start all over again, I was that 
furious.

I went through the house afterward, and took 
everything that was his, and made a bonfire out of it, 
and I felt real good about doing so. I erased his 
memory from my house.

Rest in peace, Mom. You earned it the hard way, and 
I'm sorry I didn't know.

***

I used to watch Rachel over the years as she grew up, 
and she would always without fail get off the school 
bus, and hurry into her house, and the kids on the bus 
would jeer and hoot at her, the girls being the 
loudest. They'd throw insults and comments after her, 
and her face would always be red from shame, and most 
times, she'd be crying.

I never saw her parents much. When her dad would come 
out to mow his lawn, or do outside chores, he'd never 
smile, and then disappear back inside fast. Her Mom 
was a blowsy woman the wrong side of forty, and it 
always looked to me like a cigarette was nailed to her 
lips. Occasionally, I would hear screaming coming from 
the house, but it would quickly stop, and I'd wonder 
what Rachel's Mom was getting her britches in a twist 
about this time.

I felt sorry for her. But what could I do? I was a 
single man, and I'd get a hollow feeling in my gut 
when I witnessed her daily humiliation.

I'd go for walks sometimes in the early evenings, 
greet my neighbours and stop and talk to them, then 
carry on, lost in my thoughts. I always ended up at 
the park, where I would sit at a picnic table, and 
watch the few families that would congregate there, 
and sometimes, a family that I'd known most of my life 
would offer me something to eat or drink, and we'd 
chat, while the children played.

Most times, one child or another would come up to me, 
and hold their hands out, girls mainly, and I'd pick 
them up and sit them on my knee. You'd be surprised at 
the depth of conversation you'd have with six year 
olds!

Every now and then, one of the young girls of the 
neighbourhood would come down with a bad crush on me, 
sometimes it didn't last long, and they'd find a new 
boy-band to cry over, and sometimes, I'd have to have 
a talk with a parent or two, and there'd be tears, but 
they were made to understand the ramifications of 
wanting to give themselves to me, an older man, and 
the laws involved.

It was flattering, I suppose, when I'd have a girl or 
two, or three, standing outside my gate, sometimes for 
hours, trying to get me to notice them. One girl went 
so far as to wear clothes that were so small and tight 
on her, it was embarrassing. But, I managed to send 
her home, and told her I wouldn't tell anyone, and 
thanked her for the effort, and that I was grateful 
she'd tried to look nice for me. I had a laugh over 
it, but damn, it was sure tempting!

Rachel's family was 'new' in the neighbourhood, 
meaning she hadn't been born there. There were rumours 
floating around, each person giving their theory about 
where the Higginses came from, what their previous 
lives were, but as the family didn't mix with anyone, 
and kept to themselves, conjecture reigned supreme.

No-one knew what their problem was, and they sure 
didn't go out of their way to mix with anyone either. 
But, on the odd occasion that Rachel would come out of 
her house, and stand on the front lawn, she'd have a 
look of longing on her face, she'd gaze at the houses, 
and her neighbours, and then her eyes would tear up, 
and she'd hang her head and go back inside, her Mom 
standing on the porch glaring at her.

We didn't even know when her birthday rolled around. 
There were no parties, no sleep-overs, no friends come 
to visit. Everybody on the planet may as well not have 
existed.

Sometimes, as she'd be going home, having been made to 
get off at the stop before hers by the ravening pack 
on the bus a joke, which I didn't think was funny, as 
she hurried past my house, and if I was outside, I'd 
wave and call out, "Hi, Rachel! Nice to see you!"

At first, she ignored me, tucked her head down more, 
and walked faster. Then, I noticed she'd flick glances 
my way, and one day a miracle occurred, and the sun 
stopped its forward movement.

She smiled!

It was a brief one, a microsecond's worth, but it was 
a smile, a good start.

***

I knew the lonely girl was sixteen, because when the 
Higgins family moved into the neighbourhood, Mrs. 
Higgins was loudly showing off her cute little three 
year old to the women who'd come over to welcome them. 
Mrs. Higgins was by herself at the time, and she tried 
to get a group of mothers together, but she began to 
use psychological tactics on them, playing them off 
against each other, and became bullying.

Mr. Higgins turned up a few months later, and he was 
dropped off in a prison van. Not a good look, or a 
good impression to make in front of our little 
community. He ruled the roost as bad as she did, and 
from then on, they kept to themselves, and everybody 
was to blame.

One day, I heard a yelling match in the 'Hell House', 
as their house was called, and Rachel came out, shut 
the front door, and sat on the front steps. She hung 
her head, and I could see her shoulders shaking, and I 
knew she was crying again.

So, I cut some flowers, and tying them with a blade of 
grass, I casually walked past her house, quickly 
placed the bouquet on their lawn, and just as casually 
walked back to my gate, leaning on it. Then I stood 
there, pretending to look the other way. She had 
watched me, and giving the door a quick glance, making 
sure her jailors weren't watching, she got up, darted 
down to the flowers, picked them up, smelled them, and 
she turned her head, raised her chin, and gave me a 
big bright smile. She hugged the blooms to her chest, 
and rushed back to her seat.

Then her mother came barging out the front door, and 
grabbed her arm, hauling her to her feet. She noticed 
the flowers in Rachel's hand, and growled, "You got a 
boyfriend, you little slut? If you have, I'll fucking 
kill you, and your horny fucking dog boyfriend!"

My face went hard, and I began to stand erect, willing 
to take a hand if she went violent on the poor girl. 
Rachel cringed, and stammered, "No, Mom! Honest! I 
asked Mr. Marks over there if I could have some, I 
thought you'd want them, they're so pretty!"

Her eyes went to me, silently begging me for help. I 
walked up to her Mom, and she watched me like a 
predator watching her prey, her blue eyes hard, no 
pity there at all.

I stood there loose and easy, and fixed this ugly-
spirited woman with a hard look of my own. I'd spent 
five years in the Army, and it wasn't behind a desk, 
either. I'd retired Sargent, and still had my uniform 
in the closet, put away, but not forgotten.

There was a battle of wills between us, and she stood 
there, and began to squeeze Rachel's arm, making her 
whimper softly. She couldn't hurt me, so like the 
bully she was, she was taking it out on her own 
daughter.

Then Mrs. Higgins broke contact with my eyes, and 
looked at the crying girl, and spat, "Go ahead, slut! 
Keep your fucking weeds! I hate flowers!" Then she 
turned to me, and as she opened her mouth to say 
something, I said, "Any time you want some flowers 
Rachel, you just help yourself, you hear me, now? It's 
alright; you take as many as makes you happy!"

Then Mrs. Higgins stormed inside, dragging Rachel like 
a rag doll, and slammed the door behind her.

***

Then one day, both our lives changed. I think maybe 
Divine Providence stepped in and took a hand.

I was in my garden, doing some weeding, thinking of my 
mother, and then I heard a scream, and Rachel's voice 
yelled, "No! Leave me alone! I'm not going anywhere 
with you!," and then she was running for the dubious 
shelter of her house. I looked up, and one of the 
teenaged boys who lived down the street chased her, 
yelling, "You get back here, jailbird! I'll teach you 
what a real man can do!"

I knew him. He was Freddy Winton, he was seventeen, 
and his Dad was a pot-bellied beer-swilling 'good ol' 
boy', and had the attitude to match. Both father and 
son were losers, and Freddy was even worse that his 
father, a dope smoking vicious little cockroach.

As she passed me, Freddy was a couple of steps behind 
her, and I swung my arm out and clothes-lined him. His 
feet left the ground, and with a bounce and a 'whoof' 
of air leaving his lungs, he hit the sidewalk on his 
back, and the back of his head hit the concrete with a 
thud.

He sat up, both of his hands going to his head, 
howling in pain. "You fucking queer bastard!" he 
screamed at me, and then he looked up, and saw Rachel 
running at him. She had a look of sheer rage on her 
face, her eyes hard, and she was terrible in her fury. 
She ran at him, her school uniform skirt flying around 
her legs, gave a skip, and then her sneaker-encased 
foot flew up toward his head, and Freddy went to roll 
out of the way but her foot connected with the side of 
his jaw with a loud thump!, and he rocked back, 
righted himself, and then his eyes rolled up into his 
head, and he flopped sideways, unconscious!

"Holy shit!" Rachel breathed, staring in amazement and 
not believing she'd had the courage to do that!

I stared at the sleeping boy, stepping up to her, put 
my arm around her shoulders, and without a second 
thought, she leaned into me, and put her arm around my 
waist.

"Rachel!" I said, stunned, "that was magnificent! I'm 
really proud of you!"

She stiffened under my arm, realised what we were 
doing, and she dropped her arm, stepping back away 
from me, shooting a look at her house. Then she looked 
at the bundle of meanness lying on the ground, she 
shuddered even though it was warm, and in a fearful 
voice, told me she was in so much trouble now.

I told her not to worry, this piece if trash had it 
coming, and when his daddy found out he was beat up by 
a girl, he'd have hide up in the Artic, he'd be so 
humiliated!

Rachel hesitated, and I assured her it was fine, to go 
home, and I'd take care of cleaning up the street. She 
gave me a grateful look, and went to walk away, but 
stopped, and looked back at me. "Did you mean what you 
said?" she asked.

"What? That I was proud of you? Of course I did! You 
stood up for yourself, and you fought back! Never let 
anyone put you down, Rachel. One day, you're not going 
to get back up again, and the world will be a sadder 
place with you gone!"

She stood taller and slowly walked back to her house, 
and she was smiling openly, for the first time in 
years.

***

I picked up the sleeping teen, and put him on my 
shoulders in a fireman's lift, and walked back to his 
house. The boy was rank with marijuana tar fumes, 
stale sweat and urine. When I got there, his father 
and a couple of buddies of his were in the garage, 
drinking beer and listening to country music. His 
father, Tom Winton, stood about five- seven, was 
obese, and was waddling toward me, bellowing, "What 
you done to my boy, queer?" I dropped his 'boy' on his 
driveway with a thump, and began to roll the sleeves 
of my shirt up. Tom Winton stopped, looking at my 
muscles, his buddies stood behind him, and only one of 
them looked even remotely like getting serious.

"First, asshole," I growled, "I'm not queer, and I'll 
thank you to remember it! Second, he was beat up by a 
girl, for trying to molest her! He got what was coming 
to him, and I was just cleaning up the trash!"

Then I stepped up to him, and looked down into his 
sweating face. He stank! Body odour was coming off him 
in waves, and I had to swallow to get the taste out of 
my mouth, and I wanted to spit.

Tom Winton looked at the still form of his boy, and he 
growled, "He got beat up by a piece of tail? I'm going 
to have to teach that boy a lesson he won't soon 
forget!"

"Tom Winton," I told him, pushing him with a finger, 
making him rock on his heels, "he touches any girl in 
a bad way, and I'm coming for him! Then, I'm coming 
for you!" I looked at his buddies, and gave them my 
hardest glare, and told them, "I'll be coming for 
anyone who disrespects girls!"

They wisely chose not to say anything.

Then I turned around and walked away, and left them to 
argue the merits of what I'd told them.

By the time I'd reached the street, I was grinning, 
remembering the kick Rachel had given that sorry lump 
of dung still asleep behind me!

***

There was a loud screaming match again that night at 
the Higgins place, and this time, there was another 
voice involved! I could hear Rachel's voice, even in 
my living room, three houses down. I couldn't of 
course hear the exact words, but the argument was a 
doozy.

Out of morbid curiosity, I went out to the street, and 
the argument got louder, and Rachel was in fine voice, 
disagreeing with something she wasn't going to do. I 
noticed a few of my neighbours had come out, and Mrs. 
Sweet, from across the road, came over to me, and told 
me it was about time that girl had stood up for 
herself, but Mrs. Sweet was worried, hoping her 
parents wouldn't beat her.

I told her what Rachel had done that day, and her jaw 
gaped open, and she cackled with laughter. She was 
grinning, and told me that guaranteed, everyone in the 
neighbourhood would know about it by morning. Nobody 
liked Tom Winton and his vile offspring, and we all 
sympathised with Mrs. Winton, who had to put up with 
them.

Just then, the front door of the Higgins house opened, 
and Rachel was ejected from it, flying through the 
air, to hit the lawn on her feet, and then she was 
rolling, and stopped in a heap on the lawn. I was 
moving before I knew it, and then I was picking the 
abused girl up and pushed her to stand behind me, 
prepared to defend her from this angry, raging woman, 
who was supposed to be her mother. A large garbage bag 
of her belongings followed her, including her school 
backpack.

Mrs. Higgins was screaming, "Fine! You don't want to 
live here? Well, that's easy fixed! Live on the street 
like the vermin you are! You'll come crawling back, 
and I'll make you pay for the way you spoke to me, and 
acted tonight, you little slut!"

Then she noticed me, and sneered, "Well, well! Looks 
like you got your first fuck for the night, girl! 
He'll pay you good money for your honey-pot, if he 
don't just take it first! I wouldn't be surprised if 
there's a line of men waiting for you by morning!"

Then she spoke one last time to her terrified 
daughter. "You don't go thinking you're welcome on 
this doorstep anymore, hussy! We don't have a 
daughter, we never did! Go away, we don't want you 
anymore!"

Cackling like a demon, she turned, and again, slammed 
the door behind her. Seems she loved making a point of 
doing that.

Rachel was in shock. Several of the ladies from houses 
around us came up to her, and surrounded her, talking 
and fussing over her, inviting her to come with them, 
promising everything they could think of to calm her, 
but Rachel pushed through them, and hugged me, 
gripping my waist tight, and then she was sobbing, 
great wracking sobs that broke my heart to hear them.

"What have I done?" she cried into my stomach. "Mom's 
thrown me out! What will I do? Will she take me back? 
I don't want to go back!" This is a shortened version 
of what she was saying in her shock, the words coming 
thick and fast.

She kept on in this vein for a while, and then became 
quiet, just crying, and sixteen years of pain and 
grief was washing out of her. I was so furious; I 
could have razed the Higgins house to the ground with 
my own two hands, and pissed on the rubble.

The consequences of her actions came crashing down 
around her, and she was a scared little girl, alone in 
the world, and I don't know why, but she had chosen me 
to be her protector, her knight in shining armour. I 
was trying to think of something to say, to do, but 
every time I went to say something, she'd sob louder, 
and all I could do was hold her, and stroke her hair. 
The women around us tried to prise her away from me, 
but she locked her hands behind me, and wouldn't 
budge.

Then one of the women said, "Well, we can't stay out 
here all night. Let's get her under cover and a hot 
drink in her!" I looked around, and had to volunteer 
my place, considering how the girl wouldn't let me go, 
but another of the women said, "Mr. Marks, I really 
don't think that's wise, you know. She's a young girl, 
and you're a single man! What would people think?"

I had had enough, and told her, "I really don't care 
at this point what you, or other people think, Mrs. 
Malman!" I looked down at Rachel, and she snuffled 
against me. "Come on, Rachel," I said, gently. "Let's 
get inside where it's warm, ok?"

***

We adjourned to my house, and the women fussed over 
Rachel, and some of them were like a flock of magpies, 
poking into every nook and cranny they could find, 
annoying me, but I kept the peace. This would give the 
neighbourhood gossips fuel for months to come.

Every time I went to go out of the room, Rachel would 
give a start, and make ready to follow me. I told her 
to stay put, I had something to do, I'd be back 
shortly, and several hard-eyed women accompanied me to 
the Higgins residence. I didn't know what I was going 
to say, but these people really annoyed me, and I 
hoped I could control my temper when I saw them, face 
to face.

When we as a group got the door, I knocked, and Mr. 
Higgins opened it.

"What the fuck do you assholes want?" he growled. He 
stood five-eight, standing there in dirty singlet and 
grubby jeans, and he had biker boots on his feet. He 
was overweight, and his belly hung over his belt 
buckle. I could smell the rank odour coming from the 
boots and he was unwashed and several days' worth of 
stubble covered his face. "Where's my fucking slut 
daughter?"

"Apparently, you don't have a daughter, Mr. Higgins," 
I told him. "Your wife made that point very clear 
tonight! I'm here to tell you that you and your wife 
are no longer welcome in this neighbourhood, and we'd 
appreciate it if you were to move on."

I looked at him, and he sneered at me, and tried to 
look mean, after five years in the Army, I'd seen men 
like him come and go, and he didn't frighten me at 
all.

He knew it, too.

"Do it soon, Mr. Higgins," I told him, "We can do 
without you two fouling up the place. We'll even help 
you pack, if you want!"

He gave a snort, and looked at the women behind me, 
and grabbed his crotch.

"Why don't you ladies come in? I got something that 
you'll remember me by!" He gave a disgusting laugh, 
and told me, "Don't you worry, honey! I won't muss 
your queer ass up too bad! You might even love me for 
it!" Then he cackled, and I was revolted by the mere 
fact he was inhaling the same oxygen we humans were 
breathing.

Mrs. Higgins came to the door, two more full garbage 
bags in her hands. She tossed them at me, and said, 
"Garbage day! That should be all her stuff!"

"Enjoy her while you can, pretty boy! It might not be 
all that long before she's all used up," and she 
cackled in the same vile way as her husband. "Go on," 
she told me, "be a big brother to her! I'm sure she'll 
really enjoy that!" And then they slammed the door in 
our faces, laughing at a joke only they understood.

I was getting very annoyed at that happening.

In a cloud of fury I picked up the bags, and strode 
home, the women almost running to keep up.

***

I got home still furious, and as I walked in the door, 
Mrs. Malman and her cronies were trying to drag Rachel 
off the couch, telling her to come with them, poor 
girl, and she was tucked up a ball, fighting them off, 
nearly hysterical. "What the hell is going on!" I 
thundered at them. "Leave her alone! Mrs. Malman, I 
think it's time you and your 'friends' went home now!" 
Then Mrs. Malman and her cronies got into a huff, and 
with their noses in the air, trooped out of the door. 
Mrs. Atherton, a long-time family friend, quickly 
gathered up the rest of the ladies, and shooed them 
outside, promising to keep them advised of 
developments, and assured them the girl would be fine.

They left, and Rachel ran to me, and hugged me, and I 
gently untangled her arms, and sat down, the 
frightened girl following suit. She lay against me, 
hugging me, and with a smile, Mrs. Atherton, Judy, 
went into the kitchen, and I heard her getting cups 
ready for coffee. I heard her move around, then my jug 
pinged, and then she came in, and handed me a coffee, 
and for the sad forlorn girl, a hot chocolate.

Judy had been a friend to my mother, and she was mine 
now as well. She had been a girl when she and Mom had 
first met, many years ago, and the two girls grew up 
together, and they'd been as close as could be, given 
our family circumstances. Judy never brought up the 
past, and I didn't tell her.

She had always come over when I needed a shoulder to 
lean on, and her husband, Peter, was a friend, 
although we weren't close. He was okay with his wife 
coming over, and told me one day, Judy was very good 
at listening to other people's problems, and giving 
sound advice, and he was right, Judy had seen me 
through some difficult times. I loved her in my own 
way, but it was as a brother for his big sister, and 
we three all knew that, and it remained so for us.

So that's why she knew where everything was in the 
kitchen, and knew how I liked my coffee.

***

Judy sat on the big chair opposite us, an old leather-
covered recliner I had picked up at a garage sale. As 
she held her cup, she looked over the top of it, and 
said in a light voice, "Well, Rachel, what are we 
going to do with you? We'll have to call the 
authorities in the morning, and Child Welfare will 
become involved, and this, my dear, is a powerful big 
mess we have!"

I looked at the scared young girl sitting next to me, 
and I asked her, my voice as neutral as I could make 
it, "What were you all arguing about, Rachel? I could 
hear you from here, and you obviously didn't want to 
do something."

Rachel sat there, her hair framing her face, and she 
took a sip of her drink to gather her thoughts. I 
began to think she didn't want to answer the question, 
she took so long, but then she raised her head, and 
fixed me with an angry look.

"Today is my birthday. I turned sixteen today, and 
there was no presents, no card, nothing! There never 
has been! Dad, he, that man! wanted to take me to bed, 
to have sex with him! That was my birthday present, he 
said, and that woman, she wanted to watch! They wanted 
me to take my clothes off, and suck his penis!"

She spluttered in rage. "I would rather die first!" 
she spat, vehemently.

Judy spoke up, and said quietly, "We'll have to get 
the police involved, you realise that? This can't go 
unpunished. No man should do that to his daughter, or 
any woman, for that matter, Alfie."

She looked at me, and I knew what she was thinking. We 
didn't have say anything, we both knew what she meant.

Rachel shook her head, and said no. "They'll know it 
was me that told on them! They'll find me, and they'll 
kill me. They told me that many times before, and 
they'd do it too! They're real bad, dangerous, you 
have no idea!"

She looked at Judy and I, and she said, "I told them 
no, I wasn't gonna do that! I told them, I didn't care 
anymore, I just didn't want to stay there anymore, and 
I kept saying to myself what you told me today, Mr. 
Marks, about standing up for myself, and fighting 
back, and about the world being sad at my not being 
here, and something inside me broke! I just couldn't 
stand them any longer!"

***

We sat up most of the night, Judy and I, going over 
the strange events and looking at it from every angle, 
and somehow, the police weren't called, although we 
should have, but we just kept putting it off. 
Somewhere along the line, Rachel had fallen asleep, 
and I picked her up, and because I knew that I 
wouldn't be getting much sleep, put her in my bed, and 
left Judy to take care of taking off the outer layer 
of her clothes and settling her, while I put the jug 
back on , and replenished our coffees.

When we were seated again, I could hear a vehicle 
outside up the road, and it sounded like a big one. I 
took no notice, because sometimes trucks would get 
lost, and make their way up our street, their GPS 
units confused.

I felt gritty, and told Judy I was going to have a 
shower. She gathered our cups, and took them into the 
kitchen, and as she washed them, told me to get some 
rest, tomorrow was another day, and we'd get this mess 
sorted out. I went to the bathroom, and she left, 
closing the front door softly.

***

Afterward, I lay on the couch, and pondered this 
strange turn of events. What was I going to do? I 
searched my feelings, and having the girl under my 
roof seemed natural, like a part of me, missing for 
years had been restored, and I felt whole. I was 
disturbed by this revelation, because I wasn't 
interested in young girls, and taking advantage of the 
one under my roof didn't appeal to me. She had put her 
trust in me, and she looked to me as her protector. I 
knew I'd have to talk about that with her.

But why me? What had I done that she had come to me 
and not any of the women tonight, when she should 
have? It confused me. My head was awhirl with these 
thoughts, tired as I was, and then I drifted off, and 
slept.

***

I awoke a couple of hours later, and Rachel was 
sitting in the chair that Judy was in last night, 
fully dressed, her legs tucked up underneath her, and 
she was leaning sideways, as she had been watching me 
as I slept. I yawned, and stretched; she smiled, and 
thanked me for letting her sleep in my bed. I sat up, 
and there was a cup of coffee on the coffee table, and 
it was still hot. Now that's how a person should wake 
up in the morning!

I asked her how she knew it was my bed, taking a sip. 
It was good! She told me with a smile that lit up her 
face that when she woke, she could smell me on the 
sheets, and so she lay there, wrapped in the blankets, 
all warm and cosy, and she told me she had felt safe 
for the first time in years.

We heard truck doors banging up the street, and 
Rachel's brow furrowed, and then she got up, and 
looked out the window into the street. She gasped, and 
in a panicked voice said, "They're leaving! They're 
going, and I'm being left behind!"

The truck engine revved, and Rachel was out my door, 
flinging it open, and dashing outside. There was a 
moving truck outside the Higgins residence, and it was 
about to leave. They must have been up all night 
packing. I quickly followed the distraught girl, and 
caught up with her as Mrs. Higgins was climbing into 
the cab. Rachel was in a state of shock, pleading for 
them to talk to her, to tell her what they were doing.

I got up to the cab, and demanded to know what the 
hell they were doing. Judy was there beside me, and 
she held the terrified girl, who clung to her.

Mrs. Higgins looked down at me, with a sneering 
superior attitude, and she laughed, a mean, spiteful 
laugh, and she held up a piece of paper that had been 
compacted into a small ball. She tossed that at me and 
it bounced off my chest, and rolled under the 
furniture removal truck.

"Well, Big Brother," she said spitefully, "did you 
enjoy your new pet? Why don't you read what's on that 
piece of paper I just gave you? I just know you'll 
enjoy it. We did for the last thirteen years we've 
been here!"

Then roaring with laughter, they drove off.

***

I found the ball of paper in the gutter, and I 
unrolled it. I hated those two. Bad enough that they 
threw their only child out like piece of trash, now 
they were driving away to parts unknown, leaving her 
behind, abandoning her! I swore softly at myself, 
because I realised I hadn't taken notice of the 
licence plate, or the name of the moving company 
truck. Hopefully, the police could track them down, 
and make the scumbags pay for what they've done.

Rachel was sitting on the ground, wailing in sorrow at 
her abandonment, despite what she told us last night. 
I felt for her. She would be in the Welfare system 
soon, and I shuddered to think of what kind of life 
she'd have, whether anyone would take her in, and a 
glimmer of an idea came to me.

I looked up, and people were watching us, and Mrs. 
Malman had a spiteful look on her face, obviously not 
forgiving me for booting her out of my house last 
night. I didn't care what that biddy thought. Every 
time you'd think she was human, she'd bite you. 
Figuratively, of course, but she was spiteful.

As I unrolled the sheet of paper, I saw it was a birth 
certificate. Then smoothing it out, I saw the name on 
it, and the name of the parents, and the date of 
birth, and my body went cold, and I could taste bile, 
and I wanted to vomit. It couldn't be! It was 
impossible! 

Everything spun around me like a vortex, and I felt 
the ground lurch beneath my feet, and I wanted to 
faint. A cold sweat appeared on my body, and I was 
wracked as a shiver went through me. Judy asked me 
what was wrong, and so, numbly, unable to speak, I 
handed her the paper sheet. She took it; she read it 
and gasped, looking at me, at the sobbing girl, and 
back to the paper. She went pale, and started to cry.

"Oh, Alfie," she sobbed, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. How 
could we have known?"

The Higgins couple weren't human; they were demons 
from the deepest pit of Hell. For thirteen years, a 
sweet lovely young girl had put up with the hate, the 
spite, the sheer bloody terror of living under their 
roof, not a home, but a prison, not three doors down 
from me. It was the worst form of torture. So near 
freedom, yet never knowing it was there just within 
reach.

I should have been someone who could have given her 
love, kindness, and a pair of arms to hold her, to 
kiss away her tears, to raise her and tell her that 
life was worth living.

I could have protected her.

Written on the birth certificate was the name, Rachel.

Rachel Antonia Marks.

My sister.


-= Chapter Two =-

I was jolted out of my fog by Rachel tugging on my 
shirt, asking me "What are we going to do, Alfie?"

Before I could say a word, my stomach rumbled. "Trust 
your gut," someone once told me, and so I did. I told 
her, "The first thing we're going to do, young lady, 
is get some breakfast! You look hungry, and so am I!". 
Judy wiped the tears from her eyes, and said, "that's 
a good idea, I'm hungry too! Let's go!"

So the three of us went back to my place, and soon the 
smell of bacon, eggs, toast, and coffee was filling up 
the kitchen. Rachel ate like she'd never seen so much 
food before, and I mean she packed it away. 

She almost growled at me when, as a joke, I went to 
take a piece of bacon off her plate, and she grabbed 
her plate, and a snarl appeared briefly on her face, 
and the hungry child raised her plate off the table, 
and held it away from my hand. Then, mortified by 
embarrassment, she put her plate back down onto the 
table, and looked like she was going to cry.

Another reason for me to hate the Higginses. The 
trembling girl began apologising, and when I reached 
over to put my hand on her shoulder, to comfort her, 
she flinched away from my hand, as though I was about 
to strike her.

I got up, causing her flinch again, tighten her 
shoulders and hang her head in shame, I went to her, 
and held her gently, and told her that she shouldn't 
be scared of me, I was only playing, and from now on, 
I wouldn't touch her plate, no matter how hungry I 
was.

She managed a small smile when she noticed I was only 
joking. She threw her arms around me, and kept saying, 
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," over and over, and so I just 
held her, soothing her, and stroking her hair.

She calmed down, and although my breakfast was cold, I 
still ate it, because she had helped to make it, her 
excitement contagious, and refreshing. As she had 
opened the fridge and got the butter and eggs out, she 
was amazed that there was so much food in there. She 
told Judy and I that there was never enough food at 
her old place, she wasn't allowed to go near the 
fridge, and she was constantly hungry. Little wonder 
she wolfed down her breakfast, then.

As we sat there, she timidly asked me if we were going 
to try to find her, and she choked saying this, her 
"Mom and Dad'. I turned to her, and keeping my voice 
level, but unable to keep the anger out of my voice, 
told her no, we'd let the police do that.

She sat there, digesting this, and asked when were 
they arriving? I told her that we hadn't called them 
yet, because there was still something I had to tell 
her. She could tell by the look on my face she 
probably wasn't going to like it.

***

After we had cleared the table, and done the dishes, I 
took her hand, and led her into the living room. I sat 
her down, and then sat next to her. I struggled for 
the right words, and my mouth was dry, and for the 
first time in my life, I felt truly afraid.

Rachel looked at me, trust shining in her eyes. But I 
knew what was coming, and she didn't. I feared the 
storm, and I didn't know which way she'd rage when I 
told her. How would she take it? What would she do?

What would she do? That question haunted me.

So I took the bull by the horns, and asked her what 
her full name was.

"Rachel Antonia Higgins," she replied.

I nodded, and asked her if she'd noticed the ball of 
paper Mrs. Higgins had tossed at me. She said, Uh huh, 
but she didn't know what it was.

I told her it was a birth certificate, and got a blank 
look. I said it was her birth certificate. Still 
nothing, except a frown. She was expecting me to get 
to the point.

So I handed her the piece of paper, and she glanced 
down at it, and then froze. She went pale, and then 
she began to tremble as she read it. Judy wrapped an 
arm around her in comfort and support, and I sat 
there, waiting for the storm to hit. I didn't have to 
wait long.

Her face went from dead white, to red with rage and 
anger. She turned to me, and snapped, "You are 
kidding, right? Is this a joke?" She waved the 
certificate at me. "Because if it is, it's not a very 
funny one!"

"No, my darling sister," I told her, angry at the two 
hell-hounds that masqueraded as her parents. "The joke 
was on us, for thirteen years!"

She searched my eyes, but saw only truth, pain, anger 
for all those missed years, and compassion for her. 
Then Rachel threw the certificate away, and buried her 
face in her hands and sobbed, harder than she'd done 
previously. After about ten minutes, she started to 
hiccup, and with her nose and eyes streaming, (thank 
god for kleenex!), she told us, "I knew it! I just 
knew something was wrong! No wonder I never fit in! I 
always used to dream of a knight who'd come to rescue 
me, but I didn't know he'd be my brother, because I 
didn't know I even had a brother!"

She wept again, and then my eyes were streaming, so 
were Judy's, and we all held each other and cried our 
eyes out.

I'm glad Tom Winton didn't see that. So much for my 
tough-guy image!

***

When the police arrived, we were a tight-knit group of 
three. We sat there and answered all their questions, 
as honestly as we could, leaving nothing out, gave as 
much detail as we could, and then Rachel was taken 
into the kitchen by a female officer, and went through 
it all again. Judy and I had to do likewise.

One of the detectives shook his head, and told me that 
this was a damn fine mess, and as his grandfather used 
to say, "Now the shit's really gonna to hit the fan, 
boy!"

He wasn't far wrong in his assessment!

They wanted to put Rachel into Welfare care until this 
all was sorted out, but I knew that that would take 
months. So I was adamant. She was staying with me at 
my place, because I was her brother, so I claimed 
responsibility for her. A female detective told me I 
was being presumptuous, and told me I should ask 
Rachel, or 'the girl', whether or not she wanted to 
stay with a stranger, someone she didn't know, or know 
whom she could trust.

Rachel blew the head off the detective's shoulders at 
that! You should have seen her! She was impressive in 
her anger.

"I've finally found my brother after being kidnapped 
my entire life, and you dare to call him a stranger? 
You didn't rescue me, HE did! I'm staying here! Try 
and make me go!"

That was the sum of her speech to the shocked 
detective!

***

It had taken hours, and Rachel, surprising us all, 
turned out to have a photographic memory, and was a 
fair artist with pencil and paper. She was with a 
police sketch artist, and she became frustrated with 
him, he couldn't seem to get a nose right, so she took 
the pad away from him, and then demanded his pencil, 
and she went silent, and about twenty minutes later, 
there was Mr. and Mrs. Higgins staring up at us from 
the sheets of paper.

Rachel apologised and told us they weren't very good, 
being self-deprecating, but everyone who saw them only 
gave her positive praise and comments for her efforts. 
The police sketch artist grumbled that Rachel was 
putting him out of a job, but he said so with a smile!

One of the lead detectives got up from the table, and 
told us he was going 'to put this on the wire' and see 
if any other police agencies had anything on them.

Detective Morris, a tall clean shaven man with a 
shaved head, the lead detective, stood, and said he 
supposed that a news release should be given, to put 
the pictures out on television, and see if they got 
any hits from that.

Rachel, Judy and I asked that our identities be kept 
secret, as the commotion caused by the press would be 
a major disruption.

We were right. Local, state, and nation-wide services 
picked it up, ran with it, and it snowballed. They 
bayed like hounds on a scent for any scrap of 
information they could find. Nobody could talk about 
anything else except the young girl who'd been 
kidnapped as a baby, and held prisoner for sixteen 
years by a pair of desperate people now on the run.

We knew eventually the press would get wind of who we 
were, and it was Mrs. Malman that opened that can of 
worms. She was paid handsomely for her efforts. 
Unfortunately for her, she also became persona-non-
grata in our neighbourhood, a non-person. Nobody would 
talk to her, including the flock of magpies she'd hung 
out with! She was a pariah, and they didn't want to be 
associated with a Jonah.

Rachel had gone back to school, and tried to live her 
life as though nothing had happened. But with one 
'teensy' little change.

With her freedom came a new change in confidence. I 
had offered to drive her to school, and then pick her 
up afterward, but she insisted on taking the school 
bus, telling me it was something she had to do, and so 
I left it alone. She started to come home from school 
with black eyes, split lips, bruises, her school 
blouse was torn a couple of times, and she had scrapes 
on her knuckles, from getting into fights at school, 
and on the school bus. She fair pounded her 
tormentors, she said, and she glowed with pride each 
time she told us about it!

"They're not going to put me down anymore, Alfie," she 
defiantly told me. "Nobody is keeping me prisoner 
anymore!"

She would have nightmares about the Higgins coming 
back to get her, and in her dreams she would see Mrs. 
Higgins especially looming over her bed, cackling like 
a demon, and telling her that she was going home, they 
were coming for her.

The police psychiatrist assured us that this was 
normal behaviour exhibited by the patient, as he 
referred to Rachel, saying that the mind was freeing 
itself from the constraints imposed on it, and she was 
freeing herself from years of captivity.

"She'll be fine!" he told me with a smile.

***

We gave into the pressure, now that our identities 
were known thanks to a certain non-individual, and we 
stood united as we gave a press conference. The lead 
detective, Morris, helped us, and stepped in when 
questions became too personal, or when he felt it was 
necessary. We were grateful. Eventually, thank god, 
the fuss died down, and the press went away, pursuing 
more juicy stories. 

I helped Rachel get her drivers' licence, and she 
passed with flying colours. One of the other things we 
did shortly after the Higgins left town, was that we 
went shopping, and a whole new wardrobe was purchased 
for my sister, from the skin out. And that meant 
underwear, jeans, tops, skirts, shoes, some makeup, 
toiletries, the list was inexhaustible! I had no idea 
a girl needed so much!

She'd been having her periods regularly since she was 
twelve, and so she knew how to take care of her 
feminine needs, having to literally find out about 
such things all on her own. All her old clothing went 
into the trash. She couldn't bear the sight of it.

I had cleaned out one of my spare rooms, the largest 
one, and that became Rachel's space, and she promptly 
set about decorating it, and I helped, which caused me 
to get rewarded with a big hug and a kiss on the 
cheek.

She spent most of her time in her room, only coming 
out to use the toilet, or coming to the dinner table 
to eat. Some habits die hard, I guess. She had a 
healthy appetite, and she slowly but surely started to 
fill out, her figure rounding out and gaining womanly 
curves, and she would giggle as she told me about boys 
at school who'd hit on her, begging her for a date. 
She'd made a few friends as well, a couple of them 
girls who wouldn't talk to her when she was "skinny".

When she started to fill out, she surprised me by 
buying some new bras out of an allowance I had given 
to her. Rachel had never had money of her own before, 
and she held me, trying not to cry, thanking me 
profusely. What the surprising thing about it was, was 
that when she showed them off to me later, she was 
wearing them at the time!

***

They were mainly white, and she had a beautiful pair 
of breasts on her chest. They were smallish, rounded, 
and firm, and Rachel giggled when I blushed, and told 
her to put a shirt on, telling her that, although I 
was proud of her, she was my sister, after all, and 
she shouldn't be showing herself off to me that way, 
and I was slightly uncomfortable below my waistline 
about seeing her almost nude from the waist up.

Then, as Rachel's confidence grew, and a relationship 
of love and trust was established between us, she 
would come out to the living room more often, and 
spend more time there with me, and her room was for 
when she wanted some alone time, and for sleeping.

She wanted to be with me a lot at night. She'd talk, 
and her life story would pour out of her, and more 
than once, we'd be clinging to each other, and we 
would both cry, our sadness and grief washing out of 
us. I would tell her what I remembered of Mom, and 
she'd smile, and hold my hand, and prompt me whenever 
I'd get lost in a memory.

I decided to show her the accident and autopsy 
reports, when I became reticent about talking about 
our father, and she asked me why. When she'd read 
them, especially Mom's autopsy report, she was 
horrified, and in a quiet voice, I told my sickened 
sister how our parents would be when they came back 
from their 'outings', then pale and trembling, she 
threw her arms about me, and cried again.

***

Rachel was full of surprises. She wanted to learn how 
to cook, she told me, so one afternoon, the kitchen 
became an utter mess as we tried different things, 
finally ending up baking some cookies. Judy received a 
big handful of them. She complimented Rachel on them, 
saying that they were really very tasty, so from then 
on, Rachel baked regularly. The house was always 
filled with the smells and aromas of cookies, cakes, 
biscuits, and all sorts of things.

Then she wanted to learn how to ride a horse, so we 
went to a farm not far from where we were, and I 
talked to the owner there, whom I had done some work 
for, and she happily lent us a horse, a saddle and a 
bridle, and I spent a couple of hours with Rachel, who 
sat on the horse, and was happy to just sit there and 
let the horse do all the work. Rachel glowed and 
couldn't keep a grin off her face.

In the evenings, Rachel would shower, and she'd taken 
to wearing an old tee shirt of mine, one I'd thrown 
out, but she'd pulled it out and claimed it, and it 
was now hers. She shyly came into the living room the 
first time she'd worn it, stood for a moment at the 
door, then gathering her courage, walked over to the 
'Big Chair', as she called it, sat down and tucked her 
legs under her.

We sat there for a minute or two, and we watched each 
other. She was glowing from her shower, flushed and 
smelling sweet from her shampoo and body wash. I had 
frozen, my eyes following her, as if on their own.

The thin plain self-effacing girl was nowhere in 
evidence, she had gone. Rachel was a breath-taking 
young woman. She was beautiful! She'd made an effort 
to really impress me, I knew, and oh, boy! I surely 
was!

Her long auburn hair had been washed, brushed, and 
hung down to cover her head and shoulders. The tee 
shirt hung around her body like a robe, and I saw her 
nipples harden as I looked at her, so that told me she 
was bra-less underneath it. When she'd sat down, I had 
caught a flash of pink panties, and as I sat there, 
her nipples weren't the only thing that had gotten 
hard.

I was suddenly out of my depth, and there was no firm 
ground under my feet. I sat there, drinking in the 
sight of my lovely little sister, and a small smile 
tugged at the edges of her mouth as she watched my 
reaction to her, her blue eyes boring into my skull.

"Wha, what are you doing?" I managed to choke out.

"I'm sitting in this chair!" she told me impishly.

I flushed, and I suddenly had the urge for a shower. 
Yes, I thought to myself that would give me time to 
get myself pulled together.

I managed to stand up without wrenching my erection, 
and bent over slightly, trying to hide it with my 
hand, I staggered down to the bathroom, mumbling that 
I was going to shower now.

Her soft laughter followed me down the hallway, and I 
firmly closed the door of the bathroom, and leaned 
against it, gasping for breath.

***

I quickly got used to seeing her dressed like that in 
the evenings, and didn't say anything more about it. 
But I could feel her eyes on me, and a prickling on 
the back of my neck told me she was doing it. My 
libido would kick in occasionally, and I would put my 
book down to cover it, and Rachel would smile, and ask 
if I wanted anything to drink, and I'd find my mouth 
dry, and say, yes please, so she'd get up, and with a 
languid walk, go into the kitchen to make us one.

We had book reading in common. She was fascinated with 
my small library of books, and she would stand there 
in front of it, and run her finger back and forth 
along the spines of the books, and then she'd make her 
choice, and go back to the Big Chair, sit down and 
tuck her legs under herself, and start to read.

One night, she looked up from a book she was reading, 
and asked why I didn't have a computer. I looked up. 
She'd moved her legs, and they were slightly open, her 
inner thighs silky and smooth, and I saw she wore a 
pair of red panties covering her pouting sex. I 
flushed, and quickly dropped my eyes to my book, but I 
didn't see any words, just the sight of her young 
cloth-covered pussy, the outline of her clitoral hood 
and full outer lips sharply defined.

I managed to say that I had given it some thought, but 
I suppose I had just put it off, and always thought I 
get around to it one day, and amazed, she asked me how 
did I expect to keep up with the modern world, if I 
didn't have a computer, and internet connection?

She rolled her eyes, and with a grimace, said "Men!"

By this time, she'd closed her legs, and I sighed with 
relief. I remember thinking, "I really need to start 
dating again!" Having this extremely good-looking, and 
yes, if I admitted it to myself, very nubile and sexy 
young woman in my house was having a detrimental 
effect on my libido, and I was highly strung with 
sexual tension.

***

So the next Friday evening, we went shopping. We 
canvassed several stores, and finally settled on a 
computer that was an all-in-one, no bulky tower, just 
a screen that had the computer as part of it. I 
decided to go all out, and bought a couple of one 
terabyte external hard-drives, a couple of thirty-two 
gig memory sticks, some accessories, and a laptop for 
Rachel, who whooped, causing several people to give a 
start, and when they saw Rachel hugging me, and almost 
knocking me off my feet, were smiling at her display 
of affection.

We got home, set up the computer, and she explained to 
me how it worked, and then she took the lead, and 
called an internet company, but I had to get that set 
up, as I would be paying the bills for it.

We spent most of the night on it, and she was sitting 
in the chair in front of, telling me how to copy and 
paste, how to save, and she joked, "What's the 
difference between a man, and Jesus?" Then she said 
"At least Jesus knows how to save!" pointing at the 
computer. That set her off into gales of laughter, 
drumming her feet on the floor, and I couldn't help 
but join her in her mirth.

Rachel showed me how to use to internet, and as soon 
as she got up to use the bathroom, I sat down, and I 
was hooked immediately.

I saw Rachel out of the corner of my eye, and she told 
me she was going to shower, and when I didn't say 
anything, she said the football team was coming over 
and that she was going to be busy for a while. My head 
jerked up, and I gaped at her. Rachel laughed and 
shook her head, then went to go get wet.

***

She returned half an hour later, and she had her 
laptop with her. She plugged it in, and let the 
battery charge. Then she came up behind me and watched 
over my shoulder, her hands rubbing my shoulders, 
which broke my concentration, and I sat up straight 
and groaned, enjoying the feel of her hands massaging 
me, easing the tensions away, but there one more part 
of me that needed easing, and he woke up, feeling 
interested.

I ignored him. He became insistent, with Rachel 
rubbing my neck, so I turned to her and asked if she 
could put the jug on. She stopped her hands, and 
smiled, and walked away, and I watched her butt and 
hips as they rolled and swayed as she went into the 
kitchen. I realised I had held my breath, and let it 
out, and I was warm and slightly out of breath.

She came back in a few minutes later, and handed me a 
hot coffee, and as she stood by me, sipping her hot 
chocolate, I suddenly noticed she was only wearing her 
bra and panties. I had gotten so used to seeing her in 
that tee shirt, that her being in her underwear hadn't 
registered. Her small frame, filled out now, was lush 
and seemed to be inviting my eyes to roam over it.

God help me, they did.

They went from her firm round breasts, down her smooth 
flat stomach, and came to rest on her white panty-
covered mound. My hands began to tremble, and I put my 
cup down on a coaster nearby on the table, and I asked 
why she was dressed like that?

She looked at me, and told me her tee was in the wash, 
and she didn't feel like putting anything else on, and 
did I have a problem with that?

I looked down, and in a shaky voice, told her that 
yes, I did have a problem with that. The mood became 
serious, and she asked me why. I had told her earlier 
that I would always tell her the truth, so I looked 
into her eyes and told her earnestly that she was a 
very sexy young woman, and that I was afraid, and that 
I might not be strong enough to control myself, and I 
confessed to her that I was seriously considering 
dating again, because I was constantly horny with her 
around.

***

Rachel looked at me with hooded eyes, her blue orbs 
unreadable, and told me she was sorry that she'd put 
such pressure on me, and then she turned around, and 
went down to her bedroom, returning shortly wearing 
another tee, this time one of hers. It was better on 
my nerves, but it was also shorter, and her panty-clad 
vagina kept peeking at me as she stood there, and she 
asked me if that was better. The material of the 
panties was thin and silky, and I could see the tiny 
ridges of the curls of her pubic hair under it. I 
agreed, and thanked her, my tone of voice and hungry 
eyes asking for understanding.

Then she sat in her usual way on the Big Chair, and 
asked me who I was going to ask out on a date?

I confessed that I really didn't know. Rachel 
surprised me by saying she knew of a couple of ladies 
who were interested in me, but she hadn't said 
anything to me about them, because of, and she looked 
down as she said it, "personal reasons."

"Why, what's wrong with them?" I asked.

She laughed, lightening the sombre mood, and told me 
nothing, that was something she'd have to work out, 
and then she proceeded to tell me about the two 
ladies, and I realised that I knew one of them. Her 
name was Evelynn, she was twenty seven, and she had a 
nice body, brown eyes, and she had a pleasing smile 
that made you want to return it, and she worked in a 
lingerie shop at the local mall, and so Rachel and I 
talked about her, Rachel giving me a glowing 
recommendation of this woman.

We sat talking for a couple of hours, and the computer 
was forgotten. I had shut it down and moved to the 
couch. A big old comfortable one that was at least 
seven feet long, I had also found at a garage sale, 
and it weighed a ton!

***

Around eleven, I yawned and told my beautiful young 
sister I was going to bed, and she got up, pulled my 
head down to hers, and going up on tiptoe, she gave me 
a kiss on the lips, and she quickly darted her tongue 
across them, before looking me in the eye and telling 
me she was grateful for the laptop, for everything I 
had done for her, and that she'd pay me back soon.

I held her, and told her it was free of charge. Then 
cryptically, she told me that wasn't what she was 
talking about, then let me go, and went to the 
bathroom to do her nightly rituals.

Don't ask me, I couldn't tell you if I tried, so I 
won't bother.

***

I was lying in bed that night, thinking about Rachel 
and the look on her face as she realised that I had 
just bought her the laptop, some other bits, and 
external hard-drive. She looked like a small child 
being gifted with the world, and her expression so 
open, so innocent of guile, that I sat there smiling 
in the darkness of my room.

I heard a tap at my door, and Rachel asked if she 
could come in. 

That's one of the things that I loved about Rachel. 
She respected privacy, not having much of that as she 
was growing up. I said it was fine, and she came in, 
and she was still in her bra and panties, having 
discarding her tee. She stood by my bed, and told me 
she was lonely, and could she spend some time with me, 
just for a little while?

I said sure, that would be okay, I guess, and asked 
her get me a pair of boxers out of my top drawer, and 
when she asked why, I told her that always slept nude, 
year round. She cocked her head, gave a giggle, and 
said she wasn't bothered, and she lifted the sheet and 
blanket just high enough to slide in, then she was 
facing me, and her thighs were against my member, and 
I clamped my mind on it, and he fought back, wanting 
to get filled with blood, but I wouldn't let him. We 
both settled for half-hard.

Rachel could feel it against her thighs, and she began 
to breathe shallowly, and then she put her arms around 
me, and cuddled into me, her warm breath on my chest, 
and I inhaled the fragrance of her.

She didn't say anything, she just held me. Then she 
groaned softly, and told me she loved my smell. She 
looked up at me, then rolled over onto her back looked 
up at the ceiling, but not seeing it, and told me that 
when she had woken up in my bed that time, so long ago 
now it seemed, she had felt so safe and secure that 
she hadn't wanted to wake up, fearing that she would 
wake in her old bed, and the nightmare was real all 
over again.

I still didn't say anything, just looking at her. She 
looked like she had something on her mind, and I was 
willing to let her talk. She took my hand, and placed 
it on her stomach, and I felt it rise and fall with 
her breath. Her fingers played with mine, like she was 
memorising them, reading them in braille.

***

"I lay there in your bed," she continued, "and I was 
only wearing my socks, panties and slip, and I knew 
you hadn't undressed me, because I could smell Judy's 
perfume."

She moved my hand further up towards her chest, and 
she gripped my hand in hers, and she said, "I lay 
there, and I could smell you on the pillow, and on the 
sheets, and for the first time in my life, I was truly 
happy!"

She moved my hand a bit further, and now my little 
finger lay against the fabric of her bra. She gave a 
sigh, and spoke again, a bit breathless now.

"I remember looking around, looking at everything in 
your room, and I didn't see anything that told me you 
had a woman in your life, just a picture on the 
dresser that looks like Mom. I don't know why, but 
that made me very happy! I ran my hand over your 
pillow and sheets, and that's when I realised I loved 
you."

"I love you, Alfie. I always will."

***

I looked down at her, and she gazed up at me, wanting 
me, willing me, to reply. I bent my head towards hers, 
and her lips parted, but I kissed her on the forehead 
instead. She seemed disappointed, and gave what 
sounded like a frustrated grunt.

"I love you too, Rachel," I told her, and then I had 
an epiphany.

I loved her! I really did! I loved her; heart and 
soul, and the knowledge floored me, even though I was 
in bed!

How's that for a simile!

(Men are brighter than you might think, ladies!)

She wrapped her arms around my head, and made happy 
sounds as she almost throttled me. I hugged her back, 
and we lay there for a while, till I told her that we 
really should get some sleep. She pouted, and looked 
cute doing so, but rolled over on her side, her back 
to me. She wriggled that warm and oh-so-cute butt of 
hers against my crotch, and suddenly, he had free 
reign, and I was hard. Rachel felt it poking at her, 
but she giggled, and let it do so. Then she took my 
hand, tucked it under her chest, my palm cupping her 
breast, and whispered, "Goodnight, my love."

Breathless at her forwardness, and affectionate 
actions, I whispered, "Goodnight, my darling."

Then we both slept, and this time she didn't have any 
bad dreams.

***

I was dreaming. I knew I was dreaming, and it was a 
dream that confused me, but it was like a part of me 
was standing back, watching. I was drifting on a solar 
wind, flying with the speed of light through the 
universe. Planets, suns, and whole galaxies flashed 
by, but I could still see every detail of them.

My whole body began to throb, and a feeling of love 
and lassitude came over me. I heard a woman's voice 
tell me she loved me, and I was so happy knowing that, 
I wanted to weep, but couldn't, for some reason. "I 
will always love you!" she said adamantly, and I 
looked around, still moving, but I couldn't see her.

Then my heart began to race, I could hear it beating 
like a drum, boomboomboomboom, like that, really 
loudly, and then the universe exploded around me, and 
I cried out in joy, a joy that that felt like I was 
spread across the universe, becoming one with it.

Then, everything went black, and I knew no more until 
I woke in the morning.

When I finally opened my eyes, and blinked in the 
light, Rachel was next to me, her hair across her 
face, and I reached over, and with a finger, pulled it 
back to look at her. She was lying there, on her side, 
her knees up, and her hands together under the pillow. 
She was smiling, and she looked smug.

***

I moved out of the bed, trying not to wake her, and 
putting on a pair of boxers, went to the bathroom to 
empty my full bladder. I realised I felt happy, and 
free of tension. I wondered why, but didn't want to. 
So, smiling, I flushed, washed my hands and face, and 
went to the kitchen to put the jug on. As I left it to 
boil, I started to make some toast.

I was munching on a piece of toast, leaning up against 
the sink, looking out the window at the fine and sunny 
day, just drifting, when Rachel came into the kitchen, 
and she came up to me and moulded herself against my 
back, hugging me gently, and she made a "Mmmmm" sound, 
and rubbed her cheek against me.

"What's for breakfast," she inquired, and she told me 
she'd smelled toast, and was there any for her?

"Sure," I replied, "sit down while I make some more," 
and turned around. She was still in her underwear, her 
hair was mussed, and she still looked half-asleep. She 
smiled up at me, and then a mysterious look came into 
her eyes, and she asked me how I slept.

"I slept great," I told her. "I had the weirdest 
dream, though!"

She sat down, and with her chin cupped in her hands, 
she asked me to tell her about it, if it wasn't a 
'naughty' dream. I assured her it wasn't which seemed 
to disappoint her. I said nothing, just wondering 
about that, and then as I made some more toast, and 
made her a coffee, I told her about the dream.

She sat there listening, and when I was finished, she 
asked, "how do you feel?," and I told her I felt great 
actually, and at peace, and my tension was gone, I was 
relaxed for first time in months.

She then had that same smug look on her face, as I 
told her, and she spent the rest of the morning 
smiling, and she even hummed a few times, and when I 
asked what was up? 

She laughed, and told me a woman had to have her 
secrets!.


-= Chapter Three=-

As it was a fantastic day, I wanted to go for a walk, 
and Rachel agreed, and so we got ready, and then we 
were off, and I showed her the neighbourhood, 
introduced her to a few of the people I knew, and she 
had a ball, revelling in her freedom.

We ended up at the park, and stood there, watching 
some kids playing ball, and seeing the few families 
having a great day. The park was three blocks from my 
place, and we just stood there, and Rachel took a deep 
lungful of air, and said it was a marvellous day, then 
a cloud went over the sun, the temperature dropped, 
and then Rachel screamed, looking behind me, and as I 
turned to look at what she was seeing, lightning hit 
me in the lower back, a ripping feeling, the pain 
excruciating. I turned, and Freddy Winton stood there, 
a crazed look in his eyes, and he was holding a knife, 
and then he spat at me, and sneered, "Fucking queer 
bastard!," and then I felt weak, and dropped to my 
knees. Rachel was still screaming, holding me up, and 
Freddy Winton raced off, laughing evilly.

I fell to the ground, and couldn't move. I was sad, 
for Rachel mainly, and I tried to speak, to tell her 
not to worry, that I loved her, but no words came out. 
I went cold, and shivered. There were people all 
around me, but I had gone deaf, I saw their mouths 
moving, but couldn't hear a word they were saying. 
Then I was above my body, and Rachel was lying on me, 
shaking me, screaming at me, telling me to get up, and 
I saw two men pull her off me. Her hands were covered 
in blood, and I wondered if she was hurt.

The sky was going dark, and I thought that that was 
strange. EMT's were working on me, then everything 
skipped to me on a hospital gurney, lights whizzing 
past, and people were yelling, and then everything 
around started to glow a peaceful white, and then I 
was standing in front of Mom, and I began to cry, 
happy to see her again. She took my hands and told me 
I had done a wonderful job with Rachel, she was proud 
of me, and I could feel the love that she had for me.

She looked into my eyes, sadly but with a depth of 
love that comforted me, and told me I had to go back, 
that Rachel needed me, we still had much to do, people 
to help. I cried, and told her I loved her, and she 
said she knew, she loved us both, but I couldn't stay, 
and she promised that she'd see us both again and let 
go my hands, and then I was zipping backwards, and 
then I felt a heaviness envelop me, and I knew I was 
in my body again, and I was looking at the ceiling of 
a hospital room.

***

Rachel was sleeping on a chair beside the bed, her 
legs drawn up, and she looked terrible. She was 
haggard, and her eyes were puffy and red, and she had 
my hand in hers, and I had the feeling that she hadn't 
let it go the entire time I'd lain in that bed.

I must have made a sound, because Rachel's eyes 
snapped open, and with scream of joy, threw herself on 
me, and I groaned, and then she was weeping and 
hugging me, and nurses rushed into the room thinking 
there was an emergency, but seeing me weakly grinning 
over Rachel's antics, they checked me over, pronounced 
me fine and doing well.

Then Judy was there, and Rachel wasn't, and I hadn't 
realised I'd slept until I woke, and Judy took my hand 
and asked me how I felt.

"Like death warmed up!" I said weakly.

"You gave us all a scare," she said. "You died three 
times before they got you into the operating theatre. 
It was like you didn't want to come back!"

"No wonder my chest hurts," I winced, "and they must 
have used the paddles on me."

"And you're right; I didn't want to come back. I was 
with Mom, and I saw her, and held her hands, and she 
looked great! She looked strong and happy, and 
peaceful, at rest."

I told Judy what had happened.

I began crying, grief at being separated from my Mom a 
second time tearing at me worse than the knife in the 
hand of that crazed druggie, Freddie Winton. Judy came 
to me, and held me as I sobbed into her chest. When I 
stopped, I was gasping, out of breath.

"She told me I had to come back, Rachel needed me. How 
is she? Where is she?"

"We took turns watching over you; otherwise she'd have 
stayed here, and pined away for you. You've done well 
with her. Your Mom is not the only one who's noticed, 
you know!"

She smiled, her eyes twinkling. "I'll call her, and 
let her know you're awake and asking for her. She 
didn't want to go to school today, so I called the 
school, and they understand why she's not there 
today."

I must have looked confused, because she told me, 
"It's Monday. You've been out for nearly two days". 
Judy told me to relax, and went to give Rachel the 
news I was awake.

***

I was in the hospital for a week, doctors coming to 
check on me, and Judy bought Rachel in almost every 
day, Rachel looked thin and pale, not eating much, 
worried for me. I growled her for not eating, and she 
glared at me, and then she smiled, and she had the 
grace to blush under my telling off.

Then I was ready for home, to convalesce under Judy 
and Rachel's care. I was still weak, and Rachel 
couldn't keep her eyes from my face, and she didn't 
want to let me go for a moment.

When we got home, they helped me to rest on the couch, 
and as I sank onto it, I gave it a pat, and said, 
"Hello, old friend, good to see you again!"

Both women looked at me, then each other, then that 
broke the sombre mood, and they were laughing, and 
Rachel came to me, hugged me, her eyes tearing up, and 
told me not to leave her again, she'd die of a broken 
heart, "which almost happened," she said, her voice 
cracking.

"Not if I can help it," I told her. "I'm under orders 
to look after you!" I told her pointing upward. 
Rachel's eyes bugged, and she gasped, "You saw her? 
You saw Mom?"

"Sure did," I told her. "She's well, and she loves 
you."

Rachel went "Awww," and started crying again, burying 
herself into my embrace.

***

The police went straight to the Winton house, and 
after a thorough search, they found the knife he'd 
used, a hunting knife, up in the crawlspace above the 
ceiling where he'd thrown it. It still had my blood 
and his fingerprints on it. He was stoned when he 
attacked me, probably to get his courage up, and his 
father tried to stop them taking 'his boy' and 
assaulted a couple of officers, so both of them had a 
ride to the jail, and with the bloody knife as 
evidence, over a dozen witnesses to the attack, and 
his spittle on my clothes giving a DNA match, Freddie 
wouldn't see free sky for a very long time. They gave 
the little bastard life without the possibility of 
parole for attempted murder. The Wintons moved not 
long after that, and a nice family moved in, Carl and 
Roberta Jamison, with their thirteen year old 
daughter, Mary-Louise.

The doctor I saw for a regular check-up following my 
release from hospital told me that I was extremely 
lucky, that two inches higher, and the point of the 
knife would have penetrated my kidney, and I would 
have bled out in under two minutes, and nothing would 
have saved me.

Then the doctor, who'd been our family doctor and 
friend, dropped a bombshell on Rachel and me as we sat 
there in his office. He looked uncomfortable, and he 
fidgeted in front of us. Finally, he gave a growl and 
told us, "Dammit, you two, but what I got to tell you, 
well, I'm breaking my oath, so you better listen up 
good!"

He told us that when I'd been in the theatre, Rachel, 
being distraught and panicking, offered her blood as 
I'd lost a great amount, and they tested mine and 
hers, and we weren't a match, different blood types. I 
held my sister's hand and gave it a squeeze in 
gratitude.

The doctor gave a "Humph" and said, "But that ain't 
the point! You don't have the same blood! Two 
different fathers and neither were your Dad, Gregory 
Marks. Same mother, different fathers."

We were in shock, to put it mildly. The doctor went on 
to say that the man we thought was our father was 
sterile, and so he punished our mother by 'farming her 
out' for gang-bangs, charging money for attendance, 
and he almost spat as he told us that, so great was 
his distaste for the mongrel our mother had married.

"Your mother made me promise not to tell anyone, when 
I had to clean up the damage a time or two, and my 
oath made that easy. But, I've been carrying this 
around inside me for too many years, and I can't hold 
it in any longer."

He leaned back in his chair, and shook his head. "Your 
mother," he said, "was a wonderful, gentle woman. Why 
she didn't just kill that sumbitch in his sleep is 
beyond me. Who knows, maybe she did, finally. She 
could have turned the wheel, causing the car to wreck 
out there that day! It would do my heart good, knowing 
he screamed on the way down, as your mother would have 
screamed as she was raped!"

***

We didn't say anything as we drove home that day. The 
weather matched our mood, and it rained all the way 
back to the house.

Judy came over to see how we were, and we sat down and 
shared with her what the doctor had said. Her eyes 
were hard at the news about what Gregory Marks had 
done, but she hung her head, and confessed she knew 
about the vile man using our Mom like he did.

"Your Mom made me swear on our love for each other 
that I'd never tell you what he had done," she told 
us. "The doctor telling you makes that promise 
invalid, now. She was in a bad situation, and for your 
sake, Alfie, she stayed with him, and put up with his 
vile practices. We'd sit in your kitchen, right here, 
and her throat would be sore and hoarse from the 
screaming she did as she was raped. But that piece of 
inhumanity she called her husband enjoyed hearing her 
scream as she was taken, time and again."

I looked at Judy sitting there and wringing her hands. 
I felt for her, and so I got up, went around the table 
and hugged her. She stood, and then Rachel was there, 
too, and we all held each other, and the women cried, 
their sadness matching my own, and I felt a deep sense 
of loss and shame. Loss for our mom, and Judy's 
friend, and shame for what the man she had married had 
done to her.

I let them go, and I said to Judy, "You mentioned your 
love for each other. Was that love as friends, or 
something more?"

Judy stood there, and I saw something in her eyes 
besides tears, and she stood taller, held her head 
high, and looking me in the eye, she said "This may 
come as a shock, you two, but your mother and I were 
lovers!"

***

We sat at the table for hours, talking about Judy's 
relationship with our mother, and she was relieved 
when we didn't judge her, just accepted her and the 
bond she had had with our Mom, and she told us that 
Peter, her husband, didn't know any of the details of 
our family past, of her past with Janice, our Mom, and 
she asked us to keep it that way.

We of course promised, and were a tight group of three 
again, and then Judy got up, and said she had to go 
and get Peter's dinner on, as he'd be home from work 
shortly. She gave us a hug, and left. Rachel looked at 
me, and said nothing. I didn't feel like talking 
either, so we had dinner in silence, and then we went 
and had our respective showers, and went to bed.

***

One day, about three weeks after the attack, I was at 
home on the computer looking for information on 
something, and I heard the front door open, and I 
heard Rachel say, "Just go in, and I'll be with you in 
a minute!"

Then a stunning red-haired girl shyly walked into the 
living room, and she gave a start, and said, "Oh! I'm 
sorry. Rache' said for me to come in. I sorry if I 
disturbed you!".

I was about to say something, but I noticed her 
shortened version of Rachel's name, and that confused 
me for a moment, and so I got up, and held out my 
hand, and told her that my name was Alfie Marks, "just 
call me Afie."

She smiled, and the sun shone a bit brighter there in 
my living room. Then she looked at her hand in mine, 
and I let it go, saying sorry, and I asked her if she 
wanted something to drink. She looked around, and then 
it hit me she was looking for a booze cabinet! She 
also had a worried look on her face, and I said, "Oh, 
no, sorry! I meant a hot chocolate, or something?"

Then my sister came into the room, changed into her 
at-home clothes, and introduced me to Mary-Louise, 
"call her Mel," who had moved into the old Winton 
place.

Rachel explained that, as the new girl on the bus, the 
bullies had tried to pick on her, but she'd had to 
make them leave her alone, and she held up her hand, 
and her knuckles were skinned.

Rachel grinned, and told me that the other girls were 
very sorry, and apologised for their mistake! Then the 
girls looked at each other, and burst out laughing.

Then Rachel asked us if we've introduced each other 
yet, and apologised for not doing it. Rachel turned to 
the stunning girl, and asked, "So what do you think of 
my Big Brother?"

"God Rache'," she breathed, "you weren't kidding! He 
is a hunk!"

I looked at my sister, and she giggled, and Mel 
followed suit, and the visitor to our home blushed 
under my scrutiny, and I must have looked foolish 
standing there, lost for words, because that set them 
off again, and then Rachel grabbed her hand, and towed 
her down the hallway to her room, where I could hear 
them laughing and talking at the same time, both of 
them.

About time she'd got a friend to come home with her, I 
thought.

***

Later as we sat in the living room, Rachel was sitting 
on the Big Chair. She'd claimed it as hers, and I was 
happy with that, because I still had 'Old Faithful', 
as I had christened the couch. I could see her out of 
my peripheral vision. I found myself doing that more 
and more when she wore that thin old tee shirt! She 
looked up from the chair, and put her book down, put 
her knee up, leaned back, and put her hands behind her 
head, causing her tee shirt to press against her 
breasts, and she was bra-less, I noticed, and she 
said, "So, what do you think of Mel? Is she pretty, or 
what?"

I looked up, and put my book down, and turned to her, 
I gasped, because I could see right between her legs, 
and her panty-covered womanhood was right in line with 
my eyes. I couldn't speak for a moment, and my jaw 
hung open. Then she giggled, and told me to answer the 
question!

She'd gone shopping. Again, I thought, because these 
panties were new and almost sheer, and I could make 
out the curls of her dark pubic hair, and the swell of 
her thin clitoral hood, and her vaginal lips were 
full, and I could see a hint of her inner lips.

Her nipples grew hard under my gaze, and my breathing 
became shallow, and I realised I was starting to gasp 
for breath as I looked at her, Her blue eyes were 
devilish, and I wondered how far she was going to take 
this.

"Oh, god, Rachel," I moaned, exasperated, "you make 
things so hard for me sometimes!"

"Well, I should hope so, I've been trying to for a 
while now, and you can be so gentlemanly and thick 
sometimes, it's annoying!" she almost snapped at me.

Then I realised what she was saying, and it all 
clicked into place. "We can't, Rachel, we're brother 
and sister, for god's sake!"

"I know that, Alfie! But I told you I loved you, and I 
meant it! I think I fell in love with you that day 
when you gave me those flowers! No-one had been that 
kind to me, and I knew then that as soon as I smelled 
those flowers that I wanted you!"

Then a steely look came into her eyes, and she told 
me, "I want you, and I'm giving myself to you, Alfie, 
whether you want me to or not!"

I had sat up, and I was in shock, and then my own body 
betrayed me. My friend decided to wake up, and nothing 
I could think of would make him see sense. I stood, 
but I didn't know what I was going to do next. I was 
in a fog, and Rachel could see my erection, hard and 
aching with need in my jeans, and she sat there 
looking at it, her arms over her head, and her leg 
opened wider, and then I could smell her arousal.

She stood, tore off her tee shirt and threw it onto 
the floor, and walked over to me, a languid slow walk 
that made my friend jump in my jeans. My gaze was 
fixed onto her chest, watching her breasts, so smooth 
and round, and I licked my lips, wanting to reach out 
and take her small round breasts into my mouth, and 
suck her very hard, rosy-tipped nipples.

Then she was standing against me, kissing my chest, 
her breath light and feathery, her hands going to my 
belt, undoing it, and then her hands were at my 
zipper, and my jeans were pushed down to my feet, and 
I stepped out of them and kicked them away. My raging 
manhood stuck straight out, and she was sliding my 
boxers down my legs, and they joined my jeans.

She took my length into her hands, and she moaned with 
happiness.

***

This beautiful woman took my hand, and led me to my 
bedroom, not saying a word, and then, sliding her 
panties down her thighs and off her legs, she knelt on 
the bed, and opened her arms to me. I joined her, 
hypnotised by her lush curves, and the light mat of 
hair at the base of her belly and we kissed, a deep 
slow kiss that radiated our longing for one another. 
My friend bobbed at her, full and heavy with need, and 
he poked enthusiastically toward her sex.

Then we lay down and Rachel pushed me onto my back, 
and began to run her hands all over my chest, belly 
and thighs. She was making a contented noise in her 
throat, like a purr, and she was in heaven. She 
finally had the man of her dreams under her, and she 
loved it, revelled in the knowledge!

I could tell by the look in her eye, and the 
triumphant smile on her face. Then running her 
fingertips across my chest she looked me in the eyes, 
and said, "I almost lost you, Alfie. I thought that if 
you'd died, I was going to follow you. I can't live 
without you."

"You really have no idea, do you?" she continued. "Not 
a clue, you thick-headed, stubborn blind fool of a 
man! You are my hero, my knight in shining armour, you 
stood up for me, when no-one else did or would! You 
gave me kind words, words that burned themselves into 
my heart, and I would lie in bed at night and hear you 
saying them again, word for word, and I would see 
myself in your arms, and we would be happy together!"

"You saved me, my beautiful, wonderful, adorable Big 
Brother! You saved me when I thought I would be locked 
into the hell of being with the Higgins for the rest 
of my life!"

Rachel straddled me, and she sat across my lower 
torso, and my impatient friend down there was touching 
the parting of her silky-skinned bottom.

"It's going to be tonight, my love," she purred, her 
eyes hooded with want and lust. "I can't wait any 
longer! I can't take that chance!"

I hadn't touched her or said a word at this stage, I 
was stunned, and my mind had shut down, and my 
lecherous, twitching drooling friend down there was 
doing all my thinking for me.

I was still afraid, afraid of the act we were about to 
commit, that would consummate the depth of love and 
longing that plagued us both. I was afraid of what 
tomorrow would bring, how would we feel about each 
other, if Rachel had decided that she'd made a 
mistake, or if I couldn't live with the guilt of 
knowing I had made love to my own sister?

She was kissing my chest now, and her bottom was up, 
and she was rubbing the wet aroused slit of her hungry 
sex against my friend, they were meeting for the first 
time, and he was excited, eager at the introductions. 
Her hips were bobbing, a slight up and down motion, 
getting us both slick with our juices, and I had the 
powerful urge to grab her hips and ram myself into 
her.

So, my reservations I buried deep, and I made the 
decision to give myself to her fully, and damn the 
consequences. Rachel wanted this, and if I wanted to 
be seriously and completely honest with myself, so did 
I!

***

My lust-filled, beautiful, exciting, intoxicating 
younger sister went to raise herself up, and I reached 
for her, and she said, no, later, she wanted me Now!, 
and she was panting in her desire. Rachel stood on the 
bed, looking down on me for a moment, and she had an 
exultant grin on her face. She'd won the prize, the 
jackpot, and she was going to enjoy it!

She squatted down slowly, trying to keep eye contact 
with me. She wanted to share this moment with me as 
much as possible, and she wobbled for a moment on the 
bed, righted herself, and reached behind herself as 
soon as she was low enough to.

Then she found me, and she moaned, and stroked me for 
a moment, and her body shivered in delicious delight. 
I still hadn't said a word, and she seemed happy for 
me not to. I then realised that the light was still 
on, but I had no memory of it being turned on. My eyes 
drank in the scene in front of me, and if it was at 
all possible, I became harder. Rachel drew the moment 
out, and so she should. This was her production, her 
moment in time, and it would never come again in her, 
or our, lifetimes.

Then Rachel lined up the tip of my turgid member, and 
eased herself onto it. I could feel the petals of her 
virgin flower open to receive me, and she was hot and 
wet with her need. She made sure I wouldn't fall out, 
and I could feel her contract around my head, then she 
pushed back slightly, as she felt me begin to slip 
away from her. Then he was lodged against her firmly, 
and Rachel sat there, her weight on her hands on my 
chest, and on her feet on either side of my hips.

She raised her head, gave a grin, but I could see a 
hint of reservation in her eyes, and I heard her 
whisper so low I almost missed it, "Please don't hurt, 
please don't hurt!" and then she gritted her teeth, 
and let herself slide down my member.

I did feel her tunnel spasm around me as I went 
through the last barrier between us. She was so tight, 
so very moist and tight, and I groaned. Rachel sucked 
in her breath, a small whimper escaped her mouth, and 
then she was holding still, the head of my hard penis 
within her, she was panting, as though gathering 
herself for the final plunge.

I felt something drip onto my pubic bone, into my 
pubic hair, and then once again, and looking down, I 
could see the blood from her ruptured hymen. Rachel 
reached down, dipped her finger in it, and held it up 
so I could see it, then she reached over to me, and 
smeared it from my hairline to my eyebrows, then 
dipping her finger again, smearing it from my brows to 
the tip of my nose. I took her finger, and licked the 
now-drying blood from it. It was coppery, and sweet 
from her juices.

She held herself there, my turgid fullness still 
inside her, twitching with impatience for the final 
act, and Rachel grinned, dipped her head, the said, 
"Hail, my conquering hero! You have subdued the 
beast!" Then she giggled, and I felt her sheath 
contract around me.

"For now, anyway," she giggled.

Then the sweet young girl took a deep breath, exhaled, 
and said, "Right, now for the moment of truth."

Then she gave a sigh, and let go, and with a cry, her 
eyes wide open, her head back, looking at the ceiling, 
she slid down, until her pubic bone met mine with a 
bump.

She surrendered finally, and she was filled.

***

Rachel sat on my hips and groin, and her head was 
down, and her hair was all around her head, so I 
couldn't see her face. I knew she was alive, because I 
could see her breathing. She still held some weight by 
her outstretched arms, her hands splayed on my chest. 
Her small rose-tipped nipples on her breasts rose and 
fell, and they were mesmerising.

"You know how they say that the fantasy is always 
better than the reality?" she asked, then flicked her 
hair away from her face so that I could see her.

"Well, in this case," she said quietly, awed, "they're 
damned well wrong!"

And then she grinned, and started to move, raising 
herself up and then sliding down with a sigh. I 
started to move with her, into her, building up a 
rhythm, and she gave a happy sigh, and whispered, "I 
was wondering if I was going to have to do all the 
work!"

"Smartass," I growled at her, speaking for the first 
time, and she giggled, and we upped the tempo, and in 
the end, she held me even as I held her, and I was 
pounding up into her, her now no-longer virgin pussy 
taking me, being filled with me, and Rachel sobbed and 
cried for joy, tears of happiness running in rivulets 
down her cheeks.

Time had no meaning. The minutes ticked by, but we 
didn't notice them, they slid past even as I slid into 
my joyous sister, and we were two of a kind, and then 
we were one.

Then that old feeling started to boil up from the pit 
of my groin, and I could feel my climax approaching 
like a train, a big one, I knew, because I hadn't been 
with a woman for so long, and I became faster, even 
more frantic, wanting to bury as much of myself into 
her as I possibly could. Rachel knew I must be near, 
because she thrashed atop me, and then, like an 
explosion of two elemental forces, we were overcome 
with our orgasms, and we both collapsed, spent, onto 
the bed.

****

I lay there, blissful and happy. I had just made love 
to my sister, and I felt no guilt, far from it. I was 
glad to have done so, proud of it even, proud that I 
had made my little sister happy. She lay atop me, and 
she was slowly running her fingertips on my chest, and 
I softly asked her how she felt. She rubbed her cheek 
on me, and sighed, and then I felt the cool air on me, 
and I suddenly needed to go to the bathroom.

Rachel raised her head, and kissed me, slowly, gently, 
and then she climbed off me, stood by the bed, my 
ejaculate tinged pink with her hymen blood starting to 
dribble down her thigh. She held her hand out to me, 
and asked if I wanted to shower with her.

I was moving in a heartbeat.

***

We were back in bed, and I told Rachel to go to sleep, 
she needed to get up for school in the morning. She 
lay there, just looking at me, seeming to me like she 
was trying to memorise my face, and she snuggled 
against me, and asked, "Do you still love me?"

I looked at her face, and she was worried, worried 
that I didn't love her for what she, we, had done, and 
she looked so vulnerable. I held her tight, and told 
her, yes, I still loved her, more than ever now, and I 
wasn't sorry at all, that if she wanted to, I'd like 
do it again with her, but I would never pressure her 
to repeat the wonderful experience.

She buried her face against me and began to cry 
softly. She was elemental, emotional, because now that 
she didn't have to hold her emotions in anymore, she 
was learning that it was okay to show them.

"You always know what to say," she sniffed. "I'm so 
happy!"

Then she snuggled into me as much as she possibly 
could, and then she closed her eyes, and with a happy 
smile went to sleep.

I wasn't far behind her.

***

When I awoke in the morning, Rachel was already up and 
moving around. She had trained herself to get up at 
the same time every day, even on the weekends. 
Something had woken me. I looked around, and steaming 
cup of coffee was by my bedside, its aroma making my 
mouth water. Trust Rachel to know how to get me up.

In the morning.

Oh, hell, you know what I mean! Get that damn silly 
grin off your face!

***

I showered again, and walked out to the kitchen, with 
a towel around my waist, and using another to scrub 
the water out of my hair. Rachel was humming, dressed 
in her school uniform; she waltzed up to me, kissed me 
on the cheek, and started to dish up a hot breakfast. 
Scrambled eggs on toast, more toast, with butter and 
marmalade.

I love marmalade!

I sat down, and she came to my side, and I held her by 
the hip, and she pressed her near-side hip into my 
chest. I thanked her for the wonderful effort, and she 
told me thank you, and then she looked down at me, and 
she leaned down, and kissed me on the lips, then 
walked around the table to sit and start her 
breakfast. She kept watching me as she ate, not saying 
a word.

I played her game! I was watching her, and a battle of 
wills was being played, each trying to outlast the 
other. I tried so hard to keep a smile off my face, 
but it broke through, and suddenly both of us were 
laughing, laughing at nothing, and we both looked and 
felt happier than we'd ever been.

***

Rachel was gone to school, and I wasn't in any hurry 
to go out and find some work, even though there were a 
couple of calls, both involving heavy lifting. I 
called them and thanked them for their offers, but I 
couldn't do it, as the doctor had told me to take it 
easy for a few weeks, to give my body a chance to 
heal. I still had stiffness and soreness in my back, 
and as they knew about the attack, being in the news, 
they understood, and promised to keep me on their 
books.

The day passed reasonably quickly, and I was in the 
kitchen, getting food prepped for dinner. I heard 
Rachel come in, and I called out to her that I was in 
the kitchen, and did she want anything to drink? Then 
I heard a musical voice say, "Oh my God! He cooks! 
Rachel, now I'm really jealous! You have the Perfect 
Man!"

I turned, and my back twinged, and I saw Mel standing 
there, looking as beautiful as ever in her school 
uniform.

Both girls came through the door, and Rachel kissed me 
on the cheek, giving Mel a sideways look, a bit 
proprietarily, maybe, but she smiled and said, "That's 
right, and he's all mine!" Then both girls grinned, 
and then Rachel came to stand by me, and she watched 
me for a moment, then turned to Mel, and said, "Come 
on, let me show you my undies!," and then they were 
gone, and I stood there in shock, the potato and 
peeler forgotten.

I could hear them cackling in the bedroom.

Show Mel her undies? The vision of Rachel standing 
there and lifting her school dress up and flashing Mel 
her panties got me hard in less time that it takes to 
say it. My friend was smug and happy, and he wanted me 
to know all about it!

***

Rachel had convinced her new friend to stay for 
dinner, and then Mel called her parents, Carl and 
Roberta, to ask for permission, they agreed, so long 
as Mel didn't come home too late, and I told Mel to 
tell them I would walk her home when she was ready, 
earning me a startled look from her, and then the 
dinner was on the table, and we had a ball, chatting, 
having a lively conversation, and I got to understand 
this bright young girl, and to know her as she opened 
up to me.

They had moved from a small town, she told me, because 
her father had gotten a transfer, he was in the 
computer IT sector, he was in the Army reserves, which 
I perked up at hearing, and she said that they were 
having trouble getting a horrible smell out of the 
house. "It's really disgusting," she said. "At night, 
it seems to get worse, and Dad has gone over every 
inch of the place, under the house, up in the attic 
crawlspace, but no dead animals were found, 'cos 
that's what it smells like!"

I told her about Tom Winton and his sons' bathing 
habits, or rather, their lack of them; she wrinkled up 
her nose and shuddered, and promised to tell her Mom 
and Dad about it.


-= Chapter Four =-

Rachel left Mel with me, or should I say, in my 
company, while she went to shower after dinner, and 
she re-appeared wearing her tee shirt and panties, and 
that caused Mel to gasp in shock and blush prettily.

Rachel was wearing one of her tees, which of course 
was shorter than my/her old one, and she had a pair of 
thin panties on, that really hugged her mons as she 
walked. As she walked into the living room, I, of 
course, pretended not to notice, but Mel sure did!

Rachel had gone into a store at the mall and got them 
to personalise a tee for her, and the one she'd got 
had a big heart in red rhinestones, with the words, 
Big Brothers Rock! on it. She was wearing that, and 
she walked like a Queen when she entered the room. Mel 
grabbed her by the arm when she sat down on the Big 
Chair, as they both could fit on it, and she whispered 
in Rachel's ear loud enough for me to hear, "Rachel! 
What are you doing! He's your brother; you can't wear 
something like that in front of him!"

She was horrified, but titillated as well, and her 
eyes glittered in excitement, for her friend was doing 
something dangerous and forbidden, at least for her, 
and she was feeling an adrenaline rush, I knew.

I looked up, and in a mock bored voice, said, "Oh, 
Rachel does that all the time! She thinks she can get 
a rise out of me. Huh! Thank god for books!," then I 
pretended to read again.

Rachel dropped her jaw, outrage on her face, and Mel 
was looking at her, at me, and her eyes had flown 
open, and suddenly both girls were giggling and 
laughing. I got up, and before they could defend 
themselves, I attacked them both, and tickled them. 
Both girls shrieked, wriggling trying to get away, 
almost falling off the chair, and I was laughing, and 
then they turned the tables on me, by jumping up at 
the same moment, and ganged up on me!

Then I was on the floor, trying to get away, my arms 
at my side, and one of the girls fell on me, and her 
knee went into my back. I howled, and then I was 
groaning in pain, bent backwards in agony, and 
suddenly, the fun evaporated, and they were all over 
me, panicking.

Mel was crying, apologising profusely, and when I 
could speak again, I tried to calm her down, panting 
in pain. They lifted me up, and helped me onto the 
couch. Rachel told Mel to sit with me, and then she 
went into the kitchen, saying she was putting the jug 
on. But as soon as she was out of sight, I heard her 
crying softly.

Mel was saying sorry all the time, and her eyes 
pleaded for forgiveness. I held her, and managed to 
calm her down. I apologised to her for scaring her, 
and then she was in my arms, and she was hugging me 
for all she worth, and I could feel her young teenaged 
body, so firm and yet so soft, she smelled so clean 
and girly, and there was an aroma underlying that, and 
my friend woke up, and I had that old argument with 
him, and he lost. Then the pain went away, and I began 
to relax. That communicated itself to Mel, and then, 
we were just sitting there, holding each other, 
quietly.

***

Mel didn't leave my side, surprising me, when Rachel 
came back in. She gave me a coffee, and Mel a hot 
chocolate, and Mel held me, and was trying to comfort 
me, even though I was feeling better. Rachel sat on 
the Big Chair, watching us, and she was sombre, and 
then I noticed what I thought was a calculating look 
in her eye. She put her cup down, and said, "You know, 
Mel, it's the weekend in a couple of days. Would you 
like to come here for a sleepover?"

Mel looked at her, then at me, and she blushed, and 
replied, "Um, I don't know. I'm sure Mom and Dad would 
let me, but what about you, Alfie, um, Mr. Marks?"

I said, "Alfie is fine Mel! And yes, you can come 
over, you're always welcome here! Just because we had 
a little accident doesn't mean I'm going to hold it 
against you. You're more than welcome in this house!"

She became excited at that, and soon both girls were 
back in the Big Chair, and enthusiastically making 
plans for the weekend.

***

Then Friday was here, and Rachel and Mel had planned 
for them to come straight here to our place instead of 
Mel going home first. She had gone home that night, 
and I walked beside her, and we talked about what 
happened, and I made my point that it was indeed an 
accident, and I was fine. I told her it was okay, she 
was still invited to have a sleepover, because now 
both Rachel and I had invited her, and she was 
outnumbered, so there!

Mel giggled prettily at that, and at her gate, she 
shot a look at her house, and when she didn't see 
anyone watching, stepped up to me, held me for a 
moment, and kissed me on the lips, and thanked me for 
a 'really neat night', and then turned away and went 
inside her house, but the way her bottom swished in 
her school uniform made me a little tight in the 
jeans.

So now, it was Friday afternoon, and there was two 
chattering, giggling girls in my house, and both 
bugging me to rent a video, and make 'absolutely tons 
of popcorn!', and then, our night was sorted.

I splurged for pizzas, and a case of soft-drinks, and 
then we were ensconced on the living room floor, in 
the evening, preparing to watch "Love, Actually," a 
British chick-flick.

Don't knock it; it's actually a damn fine movie.

Rachel was dressed a little more demurely that night. 
But I caught her looking at me, and I knew she wanted 
to wear her tee and panties.

Then we watched a favourite of mine, an old Richard 
Dreyfuss movie called, "Always," a love story.

What? Can't men enjoy a good movie once in a while?

Then, full of pizza, popcorn, and fizzy drinks, the 
girls retired to their room. I got up, cleaned up and 
turned everything off.

***

I showered and went to bed. There wasn't a sound 
coming from Rachel's bedroom, and the door was closed. 
I thought they might have gone to bed, and both would 
have been comfortable on it, because I had got Rachel 
a Queen-sized bed when she moved in with me, and she 
was in love with it, because she had been sleeping in 
an old single bed before.

When we'd set it up in her room, she lay on it, her 
arms spread out in a cross, and she had looked like a 
doll on it, a small girl on a big bed. We didn't 
always spend our evenings together. Sometimes she just 
wanted to have alone-time, and would spend her time in 
her room, and would lie on her bed, and just do her 
own thing.

After I had been in bed for about an hour, my door 
slowly opened, and I turned my head slowly, and saw 
both girls at my door, looking in my direction. It was 
a moonless night, so they couldn't see me all that 
well. There was a murmured conversation, and Rachel 
left Mel at the door, crept tiptoed up to my bed, and 
whispered softly, her lips against my ear, "Pretend to 
be asleep! This is important!" Then she tiptoed back 
to the door, and there was hissing of them having a 
whispered argument.

So Rachel just matters into her own hands, and opened 
the door with one hand, and pulled Mel into the room 
with the other. Mel was reluctant, and Rachel said to 
her in a soft normal voice, "Well? You wanted to know 
what a man's penis looked like. Now's your chance. Are 
you telling me you're chickening out? Too late for 
that, Mel!"

Mel shot a look at me, but I pretended to be asleep. I 
wondered what Rachel was up to. Since we'd made love, 
it was like another woman was living with me. She'd 
changed, become more self-assured, more mature.

Mel looked torn, she wanted to find out what I looked 
like, but being a virginal young girl, she was scared. 
She wanted to do this, Rachel throwing down a dare she 
didn't want to back down from, but she was in deep, 
and she had no firm ground under her feet. I could 
identify with her; I had been the same with Rachel not 
that long ago myself.

***

"But what if he wakes up?" she whispered. "He'll be 
mad!"

That's right, I thought, shift responsibility onto me, 
and I was supposed to be asleep, not knowing they were 
there!

"He won't wake up. I know him, remember? He can sleep 
through a truck driving through the house. Here, 
watch!" She bent over me, and snapped her fingers next 
to my ear, but I just swatted my hand, like I was 
waving an annoying fly away. "See?" she said.

I pretended to mumble, then placed my hands on my 
stomach. The sheet and blankets were up to my waist, 
so all they saw was the top half of my body. Then Mel 
figured she had an ace-in-the-hole, and played it.

"He'll be wearing underwear! How do you plan to get 
them off?"

"That's easy!" Rachel said. "Look!," and then she 
pulled the blankets away, and I was fully naked in 
front of the shocked teen.

"Holy cow!" she breathed. "Are you sure he won't wake 
up?"

"Nope," Rachel told her. "We need some light so you 
can see him better," and then she slid my drapes open, 
and the light from the street lights poured into the 
room, illuminating my body. I murmured, and placed my 
arm over my eyes, but didn't cover them completely, so 
the young girl thought I was merely shielding my eyes 
from the minimal glare coming in. I had my eyes 
cracked open slightly, and I could see them clearly.

"Oh my god, Rachel," Mel told her, "If Mom and Dad 
found about this, I'm dead! If Alfie wakes up, he'll 
go ballistic! Maybe we should forget about this, and 
go to bed!"

***

Rachel stood there, and she was in her bra and 
panties. Mel was wearing a nighty, and I saw her 
nipples were hard, and I could see the outline of 
small breasts under her shift. Rachel's nipples were 
hard as well, and I started to feel the tingle of an 
approaching erection, and the battle was on, and I was 
determined to win it. I had no idea what Rachel had in 
mind, and I didn't want to ruin it for her.

"No. We stay, because you wanted to see a penis. Well, 
Mel there it is! Go on, touch it! Do something!"

Mel just stood there, and she was staring at my penis 
lying on my thigh. She couldn't keep her eyes off it, 
and she swayed in its direction, but didn't move 
toward me. With an exasperated noise, Rachel took her 
hand, and towed her to the bed. Mel squealed, and 
looked at me guiltily. They stood by the bed, and 
Rachel told her, "Okay, I'll go first, seeing as 
you're so shy. But you gotta have your turn, are we 
clear on that?"

Mel was undecided, but she eventually nodded, still 
staring at my member.

So my crafty sister sat on the bed, and Rachel reached 
over, scooped her fingers around my penis, curled her 
hand around it, and started to stroke up and down the 
piece of flesh between my legs. Mel moaned, and looked 
amazed, and I was catching a whiff of arousal, and it 
wasn't from my busy sister!

"Ohmigod!" Mel breathed. Then, like a mouse in the 
hypnotic gaze of a snake, she slowly came over to the 
bed, and reached over, and Rachel let go of me, and 
Mel took over. As soon as she took my penis in her 
hand, and began stroking, I started to grow in her 
hand. She let go of me quickly, and got off the bed, 
looking at her hand, and then looking at me.

"Oh, for god's sake," my sister said, "It's not going 
to hurt you! They always do that! Really Mel, you're 
so naïve!"

That coming from a girl who was a virgin herself, not 
that long ago?

***

Mel looked hurt, and went to move away, and Rachel 
went to her, held her, and apologised for being so 
mean. "Come on," she told the skittish girl, "let's 
start again. It's not that hard," then they both 
looked at my now-deflated penis, "not yet, anyway!" 
Then they both giggled softly, and both of them sat on 
the bed, one either side of me.

Rachel told Mel to try again, so she reached over, and 
scooped me up, like she saw Rachel do.

The red-haired teen was concentrating on what she was 
doing. She was surprisingly gentle. She didn't want to 
wake me, for fear of the consequences. She stroked me 
in an up and down motion, and I briefly thought that 
girls must be born with the ability to do hand-jobs, 
because her hand felt like she'd been doing it all of 
her short life. 

Then the smell of her arousal became stronger, and she 
began to breathe shallowly, and she began to shift 
around on the bed as she masturbated me. Her free hand 
began to slide toward her young pert breasts, so 
Rachel got up, went around to her side, and started to 
pull her nighty off.

***

Mel immediately let me go, and wrapped her arms around 
her chest.

"What are you doing!" she gasped.

"What do you think?" Rachel said. "You were trying to 
get to your boobs, and I'm helping you!"

"Rachel," she protested, "I'm not wearing a bra! What 
if he sees?"

"He won't," my sister told her, "he's asleep, 
remember? If it will help you any, I'll go topless 
too!"

With that, she reached behind herself, and undid the 
catch of her bra, and her lovely orbs were being 
bathed in the glow of the streetlights, her nipples 
hard.

"See? No problem! Now you!"

Mel looked confused. She looked up to her protector, 
as Rachel looked up to me. I felt for her. She really 
wanted to fit in with this older girl, but she was a 
young skittish thirteen-year-old, and she was having 
one shock to her system after another.

With an anguished, "oh my god!" she took hold of her 
nighty hem and slowly pulled it up over her head. She 
was beautiful! I almost ruined things by moaning at 
the sight of her pert young breasts. They were round 
and small, her puffy nipples going hard without 
anything to cover them, They were pale, and she had a 
scattering of freckles on her upper chest, and I began 
to fill with desire, and then Mel sighed, and turned 
her attentions back to me, softly stroking me again.

Rachel moved behind the girl, and began to give her a 
shoulder massage, and Mel quickly began to unwind, and 
then she was relaxed under Rachel's hands. Rachel 
moved her hands down her back, stroking and rubbing 
Mel, and Mel had a dreamy look on her face, and her 
fingers gripped my now very hard tumescence, and she 
began a rolling motion in time to Rachel's hands, 
spreading my pre-cum along its length.

Then Rachel moved her hands up to Mel's shoulders 
again, and she stayed there for a little while, then 
her hands slipped down, and then she was massaging 
Mel's breasts! She seemed to know exactly what she was 
doing; she rolled Mel's nipples, and softly kneaded 
the sweet young mammaries. Mel leaned back into 
Rachel's breasts, her mouth open and she groaned in 
pleasure.

***

Mel's hand had stilled, so Rachel gently reminded her 
to continue, and Mel was in a world of sexual 
feelings, and she murmured, "Hmmm?"

"Your hand, keep going, he's near, I can tell," my 
sister murmured into her ear.

She wasn't wrong. I could feel my climax approaching, 
and it was bubbling, waiting for release.

Rachel began to apply a bit more pressure to Mel's 
dainty breasts, and she mewled, her head back, and her 
mouth gasping for breath. Rachel had been watching me, 
waiting for me to blow. She told Mel, "Look down! 
There, do you see?"

Mel looked at my erection throbbing in her hand, and 
then when she focussed on it, my hips bucked up, and I 
was spurting all over my chest and belly, and then I 
did groan, I couldn't help myself. But I kept my eyes 
shaded, and led Mel to believe I was still asleep.

***

Mel had her mouth open; she couldn't believe what just 
happened. For the first time in her young life, she'd 
given pleasure to a man, and her eyes lit up with 
amazement and pride. She looked at Rachel, who grinned 
at her.

"Congratulations!" Rachel told her, "You did a great 
job! I'm so proud of you!" She threw her arms around 
the girl, and hugged her, and Mel sat there, stunned 
and groggy with the praise. She held her hand up, and 
looked at it, then down to my deflating cock, and 
breathed, "Holy cow! Did I really do that?"

Rachel giggled, and said, "Yep!," and then she pulled 
Mel out of the room, pushing her to the bathroom, and 
told her, "Get cleaned up, and I'll clean up in here, 
otherwise he'll know something happened!"

Mel disappeared quickly. Rachel went and got a towel, 
and closing my door, she came up to me, smiled, then 
kissed me, and as she wiped me off, asked "So, how was 
it?"

I grinned at her. "You're a devious young woman, 
Rachel Marks," I told her. "But thank you anyway. 
She's got a lot of potential, and I wonder how far 
you'll take this?"

Rachel picked up her and Mel's clothing, kissed me 
again, smiled at me, then she was gone, and I was 
feeling exhausted.

***

I have to admit, breakfast was a tad strained the next 
morning. Mel couldn't take her eyes off me, watching 
me for any sign that I knew what had happened the 
night before, and Rachel was trying not to laugh at 
her as Mel sat there, her eyes boring into me. I put 
my fork down, and wiped my hand over my face, and I 
asked Rachel if I had a booger hanging out of my nose?

Rachel lost it, and bolted from the table, laughing so 
hard she was choking in mirth. Mel sat there 
mortified, and she was making strangling sounds, and I 
sat there with an innocent look on my face. I fixed 
Mel with a confused look, and asked if anything was 
wrong, and what had happened, had I gone ugly?

She bolted from the table, as well, and then I heard 
Rachel explode with mirth again, and I didn't see them 
for the rest of the morning.

***

I took the girls to an art exhibition that had opened 
that day, and we wandered around, and then went for 
burgers and fries at a take-out I knew. Rachel was 
just as fascinated as Mel, neither having seen that 
part of town before. I would give them the history of 
the places we went to, and both were their old selves, 
chatting and gaping like the young girls they were.

We were sitting in a park, at a bench off to one side, 
watching some ducks swim in the pond. Mel couldn't 
understand why Rachel was so surprised and ignorant 
about the places we went to. Surely she'd seen them 
before, having grown up there? Was she acting that way 
for her benefit?

Rachel looked at me, and I held her hand, and told her 
that if she wanted to explain why, that was up to her, 
but I thought it would be better if she did it. So 
Rachel walked away with Mel, and sat at a bench not 
far away. I just sat at mine, and waited.

When they came back, Mel was weeping, and Rachel had 
her arm around her. She sat her friend down next to 
me, and Mel buried her head into me, and held me, 
gripping me tightly, as she sobbed for her friend and 
the life she'd had. Rachel leaned into her back with 
her arms around her waist, her cheek on the girl's 
shoulder, and she held the crying young teen while she 
poured out her grief.

***

I did my best to cheer Mel up, but she was looking at 
Rachel in a new way, as a girl who'd lived for years 
under a sadistic regime, who'd survived, and now was 
relatively 'normal', and Mel's respect for her 
skyrocketed. Mel was also looking at me in a different 
way, as well. 

As a man who'd stepped in and saved his sister from a 
life of brutality, and as someone who could be trusted 
to never let that happen to anyone. But, I can't save 
the world. I'm not superman. Some of her barriers came 
down, and she would stand or walk closer to me, with 
fewer reservations now.

When we got home, Rachel went into the kitchen to 
prepare the dinner. We had spaghetti and sauce, a 
thick ground beef sauce that clung to the noodles, and 
we were full and happy when we finally pushed our 
plates away. Mel helped with the dishes, and Rachel 
asked her if she wanted to stay again tonight? Mel ran 
to the phone, and within a couple of minutes, she was 
smiling and told us she had permission, and her Mom 
was impressed I had taken her to an art exhibition.

Judy came over, and we introduced our new friend to 
her. Judy's eyes gleamed as she gave the girl an up-
and-down look, then she smiled at the girl and shook 
her hand, and then Judy turned to look at Rachel and 
I, and Mel didn't see the wink she gave us. Judy 
leaned into us, licked her lips, and whispered, "Mmmm, 
nice!"

She stepped back, and we all grinned, but Mel didn't 
get the joke. We chose not to say.

***

Let me tell you a little about Judy. She stood about 
five- six, was slim, had dark brown, almost chestnut 
hair, and it had red highlights that were natural, and 
glinted in the sun. Her legs were firm and shapely, 
and she had an impressive bust. It wasn't big, huge, I 
mean, but she looked damn good to any red-blooded 
male! And for that matter, any woman who'd noticed her 
attributes. I had never seen her naked, so I can't 
tell what she looked like under her clothes, but she 
had a fine figure for her age, and she knew it, but 
she never played on it.

She always reminded me of an Earth Mother, and you 
automatically trusted her. She was easy to get along 
with, and she could listen to you talk for hours, 
having a natural ability to fade into the background, 
then reappearing to give you sound advice.

As I said before, I loved her, and she was like a 
second mother to me.

Judy stayed with us for a couple of hours, as Peter 
was out of town on a business trip, and so feeling a 
bit lonely in an empty house, she'd came calling to 
hear the sound of human voices.

I did notice Judy and Rachel exchanging long and 
meaningful stares, as though they were having a 
telepathic conversation, and I did feel like asking 
them about it, but I left it. It didn't really bother 
me, and every girl needs her secrets, right?

As I didn't really watch television, having my books, 
and now the computer, it wasn't switched on. Mel asked 
if she could sit at the computer, saying there was 
something she wanted to look up, and so I let her, and 
she was quickly absorbed in surfing the net. She zoned 
out, and we left her to it.

Judy and Rachel stood up, and Rachel told me she 
wanted to talk to Judy about something, made sure Mel 
was fine with her not being there, but the teen just 
waved her had at them and told her 'to go for it,' and 
so they went down to Rachel's room, and I heard the 
door close. Rachel and Judy had gotten close during my 
stay in hospital. When they were together, they were 
always standing close to each other, and would hold 
whispered conversations, occasionally turning to look 
at me, whether to see if I was listening, or what, I 
didn't know, and didn't really care.

Rachel was not my exclusive property, and I gave her 
her freedom, and she respected that, but didn't abuse 
it. We had to live in the same house together, and I 
would rather live with her, than without her.

***

At some point, I had to empty my bladder, and so I 
made my way to the bathroom and relieved the built up 
pressure. After washing my hands, I went to return to 
the living room, and I heard what I thought was a cry 
from Rachel's room. I stopped outside her door, and 
listened for a moment, wondering if she was alright, 
and was about to call out, resting my hand on the 
door, when it swung inward a couple of inches. 

I looked into the room, and I was stunned by what I 
saw, and my erection exploded into life by the scene 
before me! Rachel was lying on her back on the bed, 
her knees up, nude from the waist down, and Judy was 
kneeling on the floor, and she had her head buried 
between my sister's legs, busy licking her pussy!

Neither saw me, so I held the door handle, and pulled 
it back, just so I could see them. Rachel was tossing 
her head, her eyes half-closed, and her hands were 
splayed, gripping the duvet in convulsive movements, 
and she was making disarticulated sounds. Her hips 
were moving under Judy's tongue, and Judy's slacks and 
underwear were around her knees, and a hand was busy 
between her legs, and she was moaning into Rachel's 
sex while she was orally stimulating her, and goading 
her own peak into fruition.

Then Rachel raised her head and climaxed, her body 
shuddering, her hips flicking up into Judy's face. 
Then her head flopped back down, and Judy began to 
ride her own climax to glory.

I softly closed the door as quietly as I could, and 
crept back up the hallway, lost in thought.

***

They reappeared about ten minutes later, looking like 
nothing had happened except girl talk, and I said 
nothing, but I did notice that Rachel looked flushed.

I began to look at Judy in a new light from that point 
in time, as a sexual being, surprising myself that I 
hadn't before. I knew she was married, and that she 
and Mom had been lovers, but I hadn't seen her as an 
active sexual partner before. The thought didn't 
disturb me, as such, but I was disquieted by my lack 
of foresight.

Judy left after another half-hour, saying she was 
tired, and needed some sleep. Rachel walked her to the 
door, and saw her off, wishing her a good night, then 
returned, and sat in her favourite chair, a smile on 
her face, staring off into space, while Mel was still 
busy on the computer.

***

Another hour later, and we called it a night, and Mel 
thanked me for using the computer, and then they 
headed off to shower and get ready for bed. I cleaned 
up, then turned off the lights, waited for the girls 
to finish their showers, had mine, and I climbed into 
bed, replaying in my mind what I'd seen in Rachel's 
bedroom.

A couple of hours later, I was woken by Rachel sliding 
into my bed. She was nude, and she held me and was 
silent, as if gathering her thoughts.

"Thank you," she said, finally.

"For what? I replied. 

"For not saying anything. Judy didn't see you, but I 
did. I really should make sure that door is properly 
closed before anything happens. She would have been 
embarrassed if she'd seen you standing there, and it 
would have caused a big problem for us."

She went up on an elbow, and she touched my face. 
"Judy thought we were being discreet. She loves you, 
and she doesn't want to hurt you, and if she knew 
you'd seen her with your sister, I don't know what 
she'd say or do."

Then Rachel asked me if I had any problems with what 
I'd seen them doing. I thought for a minute or two, 
but I looked her in the eye and told her that what 
they did was between the two of them, and I really had 
no right to judge them for finding happiness in each 
other's arms, or body parts. I confessed to her that 
I'd been turned on by it, actually.

Rachel looked at me, and hugged me, telling me she was 
happy that I was okay with them then. I said I was, 
and not to worry about it. When they chose to bring it 
up, I would support them, no matter what. I loved them 
both, and that thought made me happy.

***

Rachel smiled, and pulled me onto her. We kissed, and 
before too long, we were both hot and bothered, and my 
erection bloomed into life, and Rachel reached down, 
held me in her warm hand, gave me a couple of strokes, 
and positioned me at her cleft. I entered her slowly, 
basking in the feel of her hot wet and oh-so-tight 
tunnel, and then I was joined with her, and we began 
to move against each other, slowly, quietly, lest we 
wake Mel.

Rachel told me that she had lain in bed feigning sleep 
until Mel had dozed off, and once she was positive 
that Mel was deeply asleep, had gotten out bed and 
came to me. We continued moving together, and Rachel 
began to gasp, and I'd pull out until only my crown 
was in her then slide forward until I was buried to 
the hilt. I did this over and over again, causing 
Rachel to gasp, "You're really good! We should do this 
more often!" causing both of us to chuckle, and shush 
each other.

Then I was riding my peak, trying not to ram myself 
into her. Rachel began to convulse, attaining her own 
release. We moved together slowly, until I had no 
hardness left, and I slipped from her wet and willing 
sex, soft and sated.

***

In the morning, Mel had breakfast with us, and then 
she went home, thanking us both for a wonderful 
weekend. I assured her again that she was welcome to 
come over anytime she wished; the door would always be 
open to her. Mel smiled widely, and with a wave, she 
left, almost skipping with happiness.


-= Chapter Five =-

As Rachel got out and explored her new world, she made 
friends in the neighbourhood, and sometimes, one or 
three of them would appear on the doorstep, and then 
they'd disappear down to her room, and they'd have a 
ball. She weeded out the bad ones, and the 
troublemakers, choosing girls who were bright, 
intelligent, and were easy to get along with, and she 
didn't care about how old they were, either. Rachel 
was no respecter of persons, meaning she accepted them 
for who they were, and not for their social standing 
or perceived abilities or ages.

There was one girl, Diana Marie Slocum, who at eleven, 
was a genius, and at school that made her an outsider, 
and a social pariah, labelled 'geek' and 'freak', and 
her life at school was miserable, to say the least.

Rachel took her under her wing, and soon, the preteen 
was blossoming under the older girls' protection, 
guidance, and love.

They'd usually be found in Rachel's room, working on a 
homework problem of one description or another, 
sprawled across the bed, and having a conversation 
that revolved around a variety of subjects. If truth 
be told, she loved Rachel as a big older sister, and 
Rachel always had time for her.

Diana was a forward girl, who radiated maturity, even 
at her young age. She'd confessed one time to me, that 
she'd always felt like she'd been 'born old'.

Rachel had graduated from glasses, to contacts, and 
she was a stunning beauty, and where there's an 
attractive teenage girl there's always a teenage boy 
hanging around somewhere. One young man would make a 
habit of walking outside our house, sneaking looks at 
the house, hoping Rachel would look at him.

At first, Rachel used to joke, "My admirer's back!," 
or something to that effect, but as she got to know 
him, or about him, (here's a word of warning, fellas. 
Women have their own intelligence system, and the CIA 
would be out of business in a heartbeat if the 
governments of the world adopted it!), she found out 
that he had slight mental problems, and as much as she 
felt for him, she didn't want to go there, some things 
being too painful to confront.

In the end, I had to have a word to his parents, and 
he didn't come around anymore. I really didn't feel 
proud of myself afterward.

***

Then one day, Diana, who was sitting on the Big Chair, 
her legs tucked under her was drinking hot chocolate, 
imitating Rachel's way of sitting, the eleven year old 
looked at me, and dropped a bombshell on me that 
threatened our very existence. She fixed me with a 
look, and turning her cup in her hands, said matter-
of-factly, "You and Rachel are having sex."

I froze; suddenly tense, and my fight-or-flight 
response kicked in, and my body went cold. Rachel, who 
was about to enter the room, stopped dead, and she 
went pale, looked at me, and went still. Then, 
gathering her courage, walked quietly over to me, and 
sat down, and held my hand.

We three looked at each other, and then Diana nodded, 
and said, "No denial. No guilt. That means you are not 
sorry for it happening. I had to be sure."

She gave a mysterious smile, and said, "I won't judge 
you. I seduced my father when I was nine. I was 
waiting for my body to catch up, but I couldn't wait 
any longer. It hurt the first time, of course, because 
this body wasn't ready for him, but he tried to be so 
gentle with me, and so I forgave him his mistakes."

She smiled into her cup, and said quietly, "He's such 
a dear man. I couldn't have asked for better."

***

"It's easy to spot," she continued, looking up at us. 
"Once you've crossed that line, you can see the signs, 
if you look for them."

Rachel and I sat there, everything around us 
forgotten, shocked to our core at this startling 
disclosure, not knowing what to say, or do. Diana had 
put a noose around our necks, and had willingly done 
the same for herself, and her father, sharing and 
entwining our fates, and we were now party to all of 
our hidden secrets.

"So, what happens now?" I asked this mature woman who 
was trapped inside a preteen's body.

She just sat there, her old eyes watching us, and she 
said, "Nothing. We carry on, and don't tell anybody, 
of course. We all have our secrets, and our various 
skeletons hidden away in our respective closets, and 
so that now we know where we all stand, nothing 
changes. You continue your relationship in your own 
way, and I will mine with my father. My mother left us 
when I was a child, or," she grinned ruefully, 
"younger than I am now, and if she'd stayed around, 
that could have made things a bit, shall we say, 
difficult?"

She laughed, but it was as a grown woman, not a child, 
who did. She stood, and put her cup down. "I really 
must go now. Dad will be home from work soon, and he 
enjoys having dinner waiting for him. It lightens his 
responsibilities to have me cook for him, and I enjoy 
doing so for him". She gave Rachel a look, and said, 
"I hear you bake! We'll have to have a bake-off!"

Diana moved to the door, and stopped, turned to us as 
we sat there stunned by this development, and said, 
"Expect a call in a couple of days. Dad and I belong 
to an exclusive group, and so do you now. It would 
relieve him of his burden of guilt knowing he's not 
alone. He really needs another male to talk to, 
someone who knows what he's going through, someone who 
won't judge him."

"I hope you'll do this for me," she asked, her eyes 
soft, "because I love him dearly, and who knows," she 
said looking at my crotch, "maybe we can do a 
foursome!"

Then she giggled, and walked out of the door.

***

As the door closed and latched my sister and I just 
sat there, our heads swimming, and I felt a great 
relief, an unburdening, like a death sentence over my 
head that had been pardoned.

Rachel looked shocked, and said, "Nine? She gave 
herself at nine? Holy shit!"

We sat there, dinner forgotten, and talked it out, and 
no resolutions were arrived at, and we agreed to leave 
things as they were until the Phone Call, and then 
went to our respective beds, and I know neither of us 
got much sleep that night.

That Friday, early evening, I was on the computer, 
researching incest, and its various forms and 
punishments, waiting for dinner to cook. It was pot 
roast, and I had made plenty, as I liked it cold as 
well, when the phone rang. Rachel was there in an 
instant, and we both looked at it, like it was a 
rattlesnake waiting to bite us if we picked it up. 
Rachel, who was nearest to it, picked it up finally, 
and said, "Hello? Marks residence."

She listened for a moment, and then handed the phone 
to me, a scared look in her eyes. She hugged herself, 
and looked worried. I took it, my hands sweaty. I said 
"Hello? This is Alfie Marks," and a quiet, deep male 
voice, shy and trembling a little, said, "Mr. Marks? 
This is Robert Williamson; I believe you know my 
daughter, Diana?"

I said yes, she was a friend of my sister, Rachel. He 
sounded relieved, and said, "Mr. Marks; I believe we 
have something in common. Can Diana and I come over 
and talk about it with you? As soon as possible, if 
that's alright with you?"

***

I took a deep breath, and told him that if he liked 
pot roast, why don't they come over for dinner 
tonight?"

There was a moment of silence, and I could faintly 
hear a whispered conversation in the background. He 
must have had his hand over the receiver, and was 
talking to Diana. Then he came back onto the line, and 
said, that would be fine, and what time should they 
come over, and did they need to bring anything?

I told him six-thirty, and nothing else, unless they 
wanted to. He had a smile in his voice, and promised 
to be here then, said goodbye, and rung off.

I didn't realise I'd been holding my breath, and let 
it out slowly, somewhat alleviated, yet more wound up.

"So that's it then," I said to Rachel. "We have guests 
for dinner, so I guess I'll put more vege's on!" Then 
I got up, and to keep my hands from trembling, I 
peeled a few more potatoes, and tried not to think of 
the coming meal.

***

When the knock at the door came, both Rachel and I 
leapt to our feet, and almost ran to the door, yet 
dreading to do so. We stood there as it opened, a 
united front, and when the door opened, I felt a sense 
of disappointment, astonishing me for some reason. 
Robert Williamson didn't look how I'd pictured him, 
but don't ask me to tell you how I had done so, as I 
couldn't even if I tried.

He stood just over six feet, good looking in a rugged 
way, and he was tanned and fit, his belly flat, 
slightly muscular, causing Rachel to murmur 
appreciatively, and he had an open face. I could see 
worry in his eyes, and he held Diana around the 
shoulders, a little bit possessively, and also for 
comfort, for him, mainly.

He had a full head of blonde hair, and he wore 
glasses, being short-sighted I guessed, correctly as 
it turned out later as we chatted in the living room. 
He'd bought a bottle of sparkling white wine, and I 
looked at the label, and complimented him on his 
choice, knowing the winery, which caused him to raise 
his brows in surprise, and he smiled in appreciation.

I had visited it while on a road trip, and ended up 
buying a case of their vintage wine, sweet and smooth, 
just the way I liked it.

When they were inside, we sat in the living room, and 
we got to know them, and they us, but the real subject 
of their visit wasn't mentioned, and we fenced back 
and forth, neither side wanting to bring it out into 
the open. We were wary, not wanting to say the wrong 
thing, unable to say the first word about the 'I' 
subject.

***

Then it was dinner time, and I opened the wine, 
getting glasses for all of us, and Robert and Diana 
relaxed, as did Rachel and I, then we were full, and 
dinner was over, the bottle empty. The two girls said 
they were going to do the dishes, 'to give us men a 
chance to talk,' giving us a meaningful look, and 
pointing at the living room. We looked at each other, 
and grinned sheepishly. Robert said to me as we went 
in, "Do they always know how to make a grown man feel 
like child?" He was grinning still, and had broken the 
ice by making a joke. I smiled back and told him, 
"don't worry, it was in their genes," and we both 
stopped, turned at the same time, and looked at their 
butts as the girls stood at the sink, their jean clad 
rear-ends looking really good, and then they must have 
felt our eyes on their derrieres, because they turned 
and with mock severity, shooed us out, giggling.

We sat there like two schoolboys, looking, yet not 
looking, at each other. Rachel and Diana came in, 
handed us each a coffee, and went to Rachel's room, 
leaving us alone to talk. Robert sipped his coffee, 
and hummed appreciatively. "She always knows how to 
make a great cup of coffee," he said, meaning his 
daughter. "She can brighten up a rainy day, just by 
doing so."

"Same with Rachel," I replied. "She taught herself all 
the basics after moving in with me. She's a quick 
study, and never gets it wrong more than once."

Then Robert put his cup down onto the coffee table, 
and sat back, and said, "Okay, Alfie. May I call you 
Alfie? Call me Bob. We both know what we have to talk 
about. I admit it to you, I'm just too damn scared to 
start off, because I'm not sure I believe what Diana 
told me about you."

I gazed at this scared, defensive, and defenceless man 
in my living room, who kept rubbing his hands down his 
jeans, his hands sweaty, and I could sympathise, 
because mine were too. I put down my cup, and I took 
the bull by the horns, saying, "Okay Bob. This is how 
it goes, and I'm going to be completely honest with 
you, no holding back. Judge me if you will, but you're 
going to get the truth!"

Then, leaning forward, I fixed my eyes on his, and 
said, "Bob, I'm having sex with my sister. We make 
love occasionally, and I took her virginity. She gave 
it to me, actually, as she wanted to claim me as her 
own. I have no qualms about sleeping with her. I love 
her, and I am not sorry, nor am I feeling guilty about 
what we do. That's our life, and come hell or high 
water, we aren't going to be stopping anytime soon!"

After that speech, I sat back, the ball in his court 
now.

Bob sat there digesting what I'd told him, and he had 
a quizzical look on his face.

"Diana was a precocious child," he said quietly. "She 
was always smart, intelligent, I mean, and she was 
always so much more mature than her mother. She used 
to pull her mother up all the time for not looking 
after me properly, and somehow, she found out about 
our sex life, or lack of it, after she turned three. 
It was an easy birth, like she couldn't wait to come 
out and experience the world around her. After Diana 
was born, Lorraine didn't want me to touch her, 
pushing me away and telling me no, even if I tried to 
hold her, to give her hug!"

He rambled back and forth, trying to get his thoughts 
in a coherent order. He stopped talking, and took a 
sip of his coffee. I did the same.

"When Diana was five" he continued, "she'd had an 
argument with Lorraine. Diana asked her flat out why 
she didn't have sex with me anymore! She even asked 
her mother if she was having an affair! I heard it 
all! They were at each other, hammer and tongs, and it 
was a doozy! But when Diana asked her mother that 
question, Lorraine went pale, and didn't say a word. 
My whole world came crashing down, and I was heart-
broken. I didn't know! I had no idea. Lorraine walked 
out a couple of days after that, and left us alone."

***

"Diana just stepped into her mother's shoes after 
that. She'd sleep in my bed, she'd shower with me, 
we'd wash each other and we came to know each other's 
bodies intimately. She was helping me with the chores, 
and she was like she was always in a hurry, like she 
was waiting for something to happen, but it wasn't 
until she turned nine that she told me she wanted to 
have sex with me."

"I just couldn't, you know?" His eyes were stricken, 
and tears came into his eyes, to run down his cheeks. 
I felt for him. I knew something of the battle he'd 
had with himself. I nodded, and told him so.

"I hadn't touched another woman after Lorraine walked 
out of our lives, and when I masturbated, all I could 
see in my fantasies was Diana's body as I washed her 
in the shower. I felt unclean, a monster in the dark, 
and yet, when she'd hold out her arms to me, I always 
picked her up and held her, and I'd fall in love with 
her every time!"

"Then that fateful night happened, just after she'd 
turned nine. We were lying in bed, and she reached 
over, took me into her hand, told me I wasn't to play 
with myself any more, that she was going to take care 
of me from now on, and that she'd waited long enough."

I felt a shiver run down my spine, our stories were so 
alike, too damn familiar!

He got a far-away look, and he said softly, "I don't 
know where she'd learned how, but she took me into her 
mouth, and blew me! I was so shocked; she was so good, 
that I couldn't move!" Bob had a rapturous expression, 
remembering that night. "Then, when I was hard, she 
got me to lie over her, and she took me, held me 
against her, and told me to push. I did, I couldn't 
help myself, and she screamed, but stopped herself 
from doing so, by stuffing a pillow into her own 
mouth"

"I was in a panic! I tried to get off her, to help 
her, just to do something! But, Diana just lay there, 
her little legs up in the air, her thighs opened under 
me, and told me, told me, to continue, that she wanted 
this, and she said so did I"

"She was right. I didn't want to stop, not really. But 
I was revolted with myself for what I was doing, what 
I'd become. I feel so damn guilty! But I love her, and 
she loves me, she tells me that every day, more than 
once! She doesn't want me to feel guilty anymore, 
that's why she set up this meeting! She told me we'd 
always to be together and that I should just sit back 
and get used to the idea!"

Then gasping to get his breath back, he reclined into 
the couch, and sat there, and it looked like a massive 
burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

***

I didn't say anything for a time. I ran over in my 
mind what he'd just shared with me, marvelling at the 
similarities of our stories. Bob sat there, and he 
became twitchy, uncomfortable when I didn't speak. As 
he opened his mouth to say something, I held up my 
hand.

Then, in a quiet voice, I shared with him my story, 
leaving nothing out, letting him know that I, too, had 
gone through a crisis of conscience. And the battle 
with myself, and how I tried to deny my feelings 
toward Rachel, my forward, lovely amazing sister, now 
my adored and cherished lover.

We sat there, not saying a word after I'd finished, 
and Bob said, "I always thought I was the only one, a 
terrible monster, but after talking to you, I do feel 
better. Thank you, Alfie, it's been a wonderful 
experience, finally getting everything out into the 
open."

I told him that if Diana really meant what she said, 
he'd be a fool to fight with himself over this, and 
that he should take Diana's advice, and accept the 
situation, and "just sit back and get used to the 
idea!"

We laughed, and the girls chose that moment to walk 
into the room, and Bob held out his arms, tears in his 
eyes, a big smile on his face, and Diana, seeing the 
new change in him, happily rushed to jump into his 
clasp, and they sobbed into each other's embrace.

***

I was sitting in the Big Chair for once, and Rachel 
was sitting on my lap. She'd changed into tee shirt 
and underwear, her normal night-time wear, and Bob had 
raised his eyebrows in appreciation, making Rachel do 
a pirouette for his benefit, showing off her panties, 
and we all laughed, and Diana gave her a wolf whistle, 
causing Rachel to tell her to watch herself, or there 
be a show on the floor in front of us, with the two 
girls being the main attraction! Bob's jaw dropped, 
looking at her, and Diana just lay there on the couch, 
and had a thoughtful look in her eye, one I'd seen in 
Judy's eye once or twice, now that I knew what to look 
for.

Diana was lying on the couch between her fathers' 
legs, her head on his thigh, the top of her head on 
his crotch. She'd rub her head against it every now 
and then, and when Rachel told her that, Diana had a 
big smile on her face, and she patted her father's 
crotch, and said, "Oooh, There you are! I was 
wondering if you were in a coma!"

She raised herself, and we all could see Bob was hard 
in his jeans. He apologised profusely, but we took it 
all in good humour, and told him not to worry about 
it, he was fine!

After we'd had our talk, Bob had mellowed 
considerably. He was laid back, easy-going, and he 
talked like he didn't have a care in the world. Hard 
to compare him to the uptight, defensive twitchy man 
who'd walked into my house a couple of hours ago!

I held Rachel after she settled into my lap, and told 
her that maybe we should introduce Diana to Judy, if 
she wanted, and that maybe Judy could teach her some 
new moves! We shared a laugh, and Diana, who by now 
was rubbing her father's erection, asked who Judy was?

Rachel and I shared a look, and told the preteen that 
Judy was an old family friend, and that she needed to 
be talked to by Rachel, who'd sound her out, and we'd 
get back to her about it.

Diana confessed to us then that she'd always wanted to 
experience another girl, and asked her father if that 
would be alright?

Bob went red, and he was having trouble talking, with 
his daughter's hand busy rubbing him. He managed to 
gasp that if he could watch, there wasn't a problem! 
We all laughed at that, and we could see a look pass 
between them.

"Done!" Diana said, sealing the deal, and so we left 
it at that, and the two of them got up shortly after 
that, saying they had to get home, Bob settling his 
hard-on more comfortably, and Diana still giving it a 
rub, a lascivious look in her eye, and promised to 
keep in contact. Bob gave me his number, and told me 
to call anytime, as he wanted to continue our 
friendship, if I wanted to do so. I assured him I did, 
and they left, smiling at each other, and were arm in 
arm, in love.

***

Another of Rachel's friends was Julie Anne Porter, a 
vivacious honey blonde seventeen year old girl. Julie 
was about five-four, her hair always in a ponytail, 
and never wore dresses, only jeans and shirts when not 
in her school uniform. Her nick-name was 'Butch', and 
given that she was about a few pounds heavier than 
normal, you'd be forgiven in thinking she was a 
lesbian. But Julie loved her men, and looking toward 
Rachel one day, told me pointedly that she was also 
bisexual.

Point taken.

She had a 'D' cup bust, and she had a sexy way of 
swishing her hips. The young woman may have been a bit 
large, but her belly didn't sag, "just my boobs a 
little!" she quipped. Julie was surprisingly toned, 
and I would always give her a second look, which 
Rachel took in good stride, smiling.

She always had a smile on her face, and she truly was 
a ray of sunshine, and as she had been on the fringes 
at school, Rachel had approached her one day at 
school, sat with the lonely girl, and talked with her 
at lunch break. They were now fast friends, and the 
girls who previously called her 'bull-dyke' now had 
learned to keep their snide comments to themselves, or 
out of Rachel's hearing.

My sister did go and have a talk to Judy, and told her 
about Diana, and Judy expressed an interest in meeting 
the young girl, and promised not to "jump her bones!," 
as she put it. Rachel talked to Diana, and then I was 
asked one day to go over to Bob's place, and spend 
some 'quality' time with him, as there was going to be 
a girls-night in happening that night.

Rachel had called Julie, and invited her over, so 
there was going to be the four of them there, and no 
men allowed! As it was a Saturday, there was no 
problem with having school to worry about. Peter was 
told that Judy would be giving the girls pointers on 
baking, to explain her absence from the house, and 
they actually did bake a cake, and it was delicious!

***

After dinner on Saturday, there was a knock on the 
door, and Judy walked, very excited, like a young 
girl, but trying to mask it, so I smiled, and chatted 
with her until it was time to go to Bob's place. Then, 
as I was going out the door, both Diana and Julie were 
at the door, both arriving at the same time. I invited 
them in, then closed the door behind me, and walked 
away, smiling, my imagination going mental with images 
of the four women in the house alone.

Bob and I spent some quality 'Man Time', drinking 
beer, playing pool, and half-watching football games 
on his TV in the garage. We spoke of this and that, 
our women, his daughter, and my sister, and generally 
had a ball. He was even more self-assured now, and I 
was amazed at the change in him. A new self-confidence 
shone from him, his guilt and self-loathing was gone, 
and it was good to see. He wasn't a bragger, and 
always spoke softly and surely.

***

It was going on midnight when we called it quits, and 
as I shook his hand to go, he held on a bit longer, 
and with gratitude and sincerity, thanked me again for 
my help. He promised to always be there should I need 
anything, and although I don't usually hug men, I just 
didn't have all that much practice doing that, I 
suppose, I enfolded him in a bear hug, and told him 
things were going to be fine now, and thanked him too.

The house was dark and silent when I got home, so 
thinking that Diana had stayed over with Rachel, I let 
myself in, and quietly made my way to the bathroom.

There was a light on at the end of the hall, coming 
from Rachel's room, and the sounds of gasps and 
panting came from in there. I needed to go badly, and 
I thought for a moment to go outside and water the 
flowers, but my body told me I wasn't going to make 
it, so, I crept down the hall, and as I passed the 
door to Rachel's room, the door was ajar, and the 
sight inside made me forget going to the bathroom!

They were all naked, and a lickfest was happening! 
Diana was on her back, legs splayed and up, bent at 
the knees, her preteen body shaking as Judy knelt 
between her legs, her soft full breasts hanging down, 
her nipples rubbing on the bed, lapping at Diana's 
almost hairless sex, attacking her clit, and her lips 
were puffy and full, and looked amazing! Lying on her 
back, she didn't have breasts as such, and her little 
nipples were hard.

Rachel was kneeling over the girl's face, and she was 
moaning and gyrating her hips in a back and forth 
dance, grabbing her breasts and pinching her distended 
nipples. Julie was kneeling behind Judy, and her head 
was down behind her, and Judy moaned at what she was 
doing back there. Julie's hand was between her own 
legs, and she was pushing two fingers into herself, 
humping them, and I noticed she was shaven clean, and 
her mons looked soft and smooth, and by the sounds 
coming from the women on the bed, they were all close. 
Suddenly, Rachel began to climax, and that set the 
others off, and within moments, they were all coming 
and crying out in release.

I was nailed to the spot, and my member was rock hard, 
and I had the overwhelming urge to pull him out, and 
masturbate in front of them.

It was Julie who saw me first, and she collapsed into 
a fit of giggles when she saw the dumb look on my 
face. I was slack-jawed, and my erection was making a 
noticeable lump in my jeans!

There was a mad scramble for clothes, and Judy was so 
shocked at seeing me there, she actually dived to the 
floor on the other side of the bed with a scream! That 
broke the spell I was under, and with as much aplomb 
as I could muster, I said, "I'll just get that door 
fixed tomorrow, shall I?"

Then I walked away, had a shower, and went to bed.

***

After the women had got themselves under control, and 
got dressed, Julie walked Diana home, and there was a 
long whispered conversation between Judy and Rachel, 
and then Judy left. Not long after that, Rachel had a 
shower, and then nude, came into my room after 
knocking first. I was still awake, and very hard, 
unable to get the images of the four women out of my 
head. Rachel saw the state I was in, and slid in 
beside me and without a word, dipped her head, and 
took me into her mouth.

She applied a light suction on my crown, and then her 
tongue began to move, licking the underside of it, and 
then all over the head, she began a slow bobbing 
motion, and taking me into her mouth a bit at a time, 
taking me as much as she could. Rachel continued like 
this for a few minutes, and then I felt my release 
coming, and giving her warning that I was coming, she 
began to lick and suck me harder.

I exploded into her mouth, and she swallowed it all, 
not even choking or gagging, and she continued to suck 
me until I was spent, and she let my deflated member 
slip from her mouth, and cuddled into me, sighing with 
happiness. She leaned up, and we kissed, and I could 
taste my ejaculate in her mouth, but I didn't mind.

Rachel moved up the bed, and half-sitting against the 
headboard with a pillow behind her, held my head 
against her breasts, her nipples hard against my head 
and neck. I put my arm around her waist, and closed my 
eyes, listening to her heart beat, and inhaling her 
scent. She brushed some strands of hair away from my 
face with her finger, and sighed, and said, "You must 
promise to fix that door tomorrow. Judy was in a right 
state."

"She really must come to terms with you knowing about 
her. You and I know about her relationship with our 
mother, but she's afraid you'll push her away if you 
know about her and I. I think that it's about time we 
sat her down and talked with her!"

***

"I will fix that door tomorrow," I promised, "and yes, 
I think so too. Can you call her tomorrow and ask her 
to come over? I too think it's time to get the dust 
shaken off this."

Then going up onto my elbow, I kissed my sister's lush 
and inviting lips, and softly said, "My turn!"

Her eyes popped open, and she said breathlessly, "Your 
turn, what?"

But I left her there, slid down the bed, and parted 
her legs, and kissing her stomach, and licking her 
belly button, causing her to writhe and giggle, and 
then made my way down her body until my lips were 
nuzzling her pubic hair. Rachel opened her legs wider, 
and she was aroused instantly, her aroma heady, 
drawing me down until I was kissing her wet cleft.

"Oh my beautiful man," she breathed, and then she lay 
back, giving herself to the sensations emanating from 
my darting tongue. I ran my tongue up and down her 
pouting sex slowly and gently, over and over, and she 
opened up as I did so, and I loved her taste, her 
feel, and her lips invited me in, and I took advantage 
of that, and drove my tongue deep, causing her to buck 
beneath me. I returned to her hard button, rasping my 
tongue over it, around it and Rachel was gasping, 
writhing, and she took her breasts into her hands, and 
gripped them, and twisted her nipples, and then she 
was crying out, her hips off the bed, and then she 
slumped down, and lay panting, as I slowly licked her 
clit, and she shuddered in time to my ministrations. 
She came again, a small one, her body jolting with the 
force of it.

Rachel lay there, almost purring, a satisfied smile on 
her face. I moved up the bed, and took her into my 
arms, she cuddled into me, and we held each other 
tenderly.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for you do 
that," she sighed, and then we both slept, and we were 
content.


-= Chapter Six =-

I had to replace the door. It was old, and it had 
warped. That was why it wouldn't close properly. I 
called a hardware store, gave them the measurements, 
and the man there told me it would be ready when I 
came to pick it up. Rachel helped me to set it up and 
she held it while I put the lugs in it. After swinging 
it back and forth a couple of times, I closed it, and 
it sat snug. I opened and closed it again, and it was 
a perfect fit.

Rachel was relieved that now her privacy was assured, 
and to thank me, we had a little 'us' time, and we lay 
together, on her bed afterward, sweaty and tired.

My god, but that girl was inventive!

Don't ask.

Rachel called Judy, and asked her if she could come 
over, as we wanted to talk to her about something. For 
once, she was reluctant, but Rachel succeeded in 
convincing her to come, and so a few minutes later, a 
very timid Judy walked in our door.

Judy sat at the kitchen table, maybe because she and 
Mom had spent so much time there together, she felt 
comfortable sitting with the sun on her back. She 
wasn't this time, and kept squirming, not looking at 
me, a blush on her face.

I decided that this had gone on long enough, and asked 
her, "Judy, why are you embarrassed by spending time 
with Rachel?"

Judy gasped, and shocked, said, "Oh, god, you know?"

"Of course I know! I saw you two the night that Mel 
was here. Rachel's door opened, and I saw you both, 
and if it's any consolation, I approve! If you are 
happy giving Rachel pleasure, then why should I have a 
problem with it?"

Rachel took her hand, and told her that it was nothing 
to be ashamed about!

"But, I was so afraid you'd turn me away! That's what 
Gregory did, when he came home one day, and caught 
Janice and I! He made her suffer for my mistake! It 
was me who convinced her to spend some time in bed 
together that day! I was in love with your mother! And 
that man ruined it!"

"I'm not that man, Judy," I told her gently. "You can 
spend as much time as makes you both happy with 
Rachel. It's her decision to share your love, and I've 
loved you all my life, so let's get this put to bed, 
so to speak, shall we?"

Judy looked at me, and then she was crying, and the 
guilt she'd carried around all those years came out in 
great wracking sobs. I moved around to hold her, and 
at first she resisted me, then she melted into my 
arms, and held me with a strength that surprised me. 
Rachel joined us, and then as they cried together, I 
had tears as well, and I was sandwiched between them, 
and we stood there until both girls calmed down.

Judy wiped her face, and then, smiling ruefully told 
me to let her go, she was going to put the jug on, and 
then we were our old selves again, but now, there were 
no more secrets between us, and that made us closer, 
stronger.

***

Postscript

I was cleared for work by our doctor a couple of weeks 
later, and it felt good to out using my hands again. 
My time convalescing had weakened me, so it took 
another few weeks to get fit and in condition again. 
Rachel would still bake, and on the weekends, if she 
wasn't having someone over, or at a sleepover, or a 
party or two she'd been invited to, she would spend 
the day with me.

We'd go out, and take in a movie, or walk in the park, 
which was good therapy for both of us, even though she 
kept looking over her shoulder, but this time, there 
was no drug-crazed teenager coming at me with a knife.

Time rolled by, and one day, she met a fine young man, 
and she fell in love with him, they married, and she's 
got two girls, and she's happy. She keeps in contact, 
and sometimes comes to stay for a weekend, brings the 
girls, and they love their Uncle Alfie. We don't sleep 
together anymore, but I still have the memories.

Mel went on to go into the ministry, as both of her 
parents were Christians, and last I heard, she was in 
Cambodia, on a mission there, and loving it.

Bob and Diana moved away, and I never heard from them 
again, but they were happy, and as she grew up into a 
young woman, she'd pass herself off as his young wife. 
Them having the same last name helped. We never got 
around to having that foursome. I sure miss them.

They found the Higginses. The fools tried to snatch 
another child, and the two of them died in a shoot-out 
with the child's parents. Good riddance to bad 
rubbish.

Judy passed away, dying of a brain aneurism, a picture 
of Janice, my Mom, in her hands, one sunny day. Peter 
was devastated, and everyone who knew her showed up 
for the funeral. There were at least a hundred people 
there, and the tears flowed like rain.

I'm still single, and prefer it that way. My libido 
isn't what it was, and my friend there spends more 
time sleeping than I do.

I still miss Mom, and I can't wait to see her again.

So, that's my story. I hope you enjoyed reading it, as 
I've enjoyed telling you about it.

Time to say goodbye.

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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is 
meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in 
real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real 
life" can look forward to many unproductive years 
getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their 
local prison system.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 75