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The Really Complicated Family Ch. 01

By: Androgynousother



Tim and I had been extremely close as children; two years younger than me, following the end of our parent's marriage we were basically all we had. But like lots of kids we had drifted into hormonal sullenness with an element of sibling rivalry in our teenage years though.

Tim excelled in his school work and I was just a bit jealous. I tried not to let it show, but pretty soon with the onset of his extremely late development his hormones kicked in making him a snobbish, bookish, over confident prig with no people skills or belief in the worth of anyone but him. Our Mother's isolationism and desire to keep out the rest of the world only made him worse.

I could still remember my mother and father being together, Tim had no memory of it at all thanks to our mother's systematic removal of him from our lives and consciousness. My Grandma Barnes had been delightful and one of those grandparents that people had in Enid Blyton books. She had a wonderful warm house with a huge garden that I could play in to my young hearts content, and a tin that was always full of cakes and an apron that almost always had a chocolate covered caramel toffee in the pocket.

But when the divorce came along, suddenly however much I begged to go to see Nanny B I was never allowed to. Grandma Barnes fought extremely hard to see us, but grandparents, even parents rights, after divorces was unheard of in those dark days. 

My father fought to maintain contact with us, so Mum moved us north, starting first in the Midlands then going further north every few years as my father and his family got used to it. My pre-school youth had always seemed sunny, but from six years old my life had all the chill and darkness of a Lancashire winter. We still received birthday cards and regular visits – my Dad's trip to the family court had ensured that – while my mother just saw his interference as another way he could annoy her.

She was a hard bitch and no mistake. She hated the north and more so, the northerners. She hated their accent, the gritty 'get on with it' nature (at least up until Margaret Thatcher's destruction of much of their way of life) and their almost instinctive not to say genetic mistrust of anything southern. Mum's insistence that we never picked up a local accent was a constant bind; we were bullied at school for being 'soft southern bastards' and then bullied at home of we dared to exhibit the slightest Brummy drag or Mancunian twang.

Mum insisted we went to the best school. I failed my 'Eleven plus' examination so never made the local grammar school; at the time I was fool enough to voice the concern that my teacher had raised when she pointed out that if I'd stayed in a primary school for more than eighteen months perhaps I could have done better in that life changing exam.

Mum severed all contacts with everyone in Dad's family other than him for that. The idea that someone else in the world might have affected me just did not enter her mind. I was to discover years later that she had taken to throwing all of my Nanny B's letters to me in a box; apparently Dad has guessed this was happening and his solicitor pointed out that interfering with the mail was a crime. 

I gradually learned to live without her except for my fortnight in the summer when we came south, and she died three years later, having never missing a birthday, Easter or a Christmas card up until that time I was to discover when I found the box years later. My Dad's visits reduced; with the passing of my Nan it became apparent how much he had been relying on financial assistance from her.

Her death and splitting of her estate between him and his four siblings meant that rather than once a month we saw him once a quarter or less sometimes. We grew up and he got older, quickly. The cancer in his bowel dragged the life from him fast and he begged that we be allowed to come south for a week before our customary trip in the summer holidays.

Mum argued about disruption to our exams, even though we didn't have any; eventually Dad's youngest brother, my wonderful uncle Dan, drove to Tim's school and collected him then to mine to collect me and, leaving a note scrunched between the stiff letter box flap and the draft excluder, drove us the two hundred miles to the hospital dad had been admitted to that day.

Uncle Dan was cheeky, (Mum always said vulgar) bright and spirited, something Dad had been until he married Mum, extremely clever, but above that a policeman. He'd told both schools what he was doing and the police at both ends of the trip, telling him that Mum could not be contacted, which was true. She always kept herself to herself.

So when she rang to report us missing, we both walked home from school, they told her about the emergency in London and the note through the door. She'd been had and she knew it.

Dad lasted another three days, and the funeral was arranged. Mum contacted the police demanding our return, but thanks to Uncle Dan she was put off – not something they could get away with these days. Uncle Dan arranged the funeral and everything and we went meeting all of the family, many of which we had not seen in five years, and finally Dad was laid to rest next to Nanny B. 

Uncle Dan took me aside and told me that he wanted to give me some money for emergencies. I guessed this meant a railway ticket or money for phones and explained that he had put five pounds in my pocket but stitched the rest into the lining of my blazer, knowing that the clothes he'd bought for us would be consigned to the Oxfam shop as soon as we returned home. He gave me some for Tim, who even at the age had started to respond to Mum's brainwashing, and was likely to tell her about it. On our last night we sat up in front of the telly in his living room eating Kentucky Fried Chicken and defrosted cheesecake and talking about Dad and Nanny B. The following morning, wearing his uniform as a police constable he drove us back to the chilly north and the frosty reception that doubtless awaited us.

It was to a distinctly chilly house that Uncle Dan dropped us back to. Mum tried to block the door, but Dan, with the confidence of his profession and of the age, pushed past like a moment from 'Life on Mars' and had a good look round. It was obvious that Mum had started to pack again.

He said he thought it was about time she moved again, and she snarled that he had no rights to me or Tim and she'd move to the moon if it would finally stop his damned family interfering with her and hers.

Dan smiled, shook hands with Tim and playfully rubbed his head then bent gave me a hug and kissed me on both cheeks,

"Don't worry princess," he said patting the padded shoulder of my blazer I knew contained an address list of all of his family and £100 in notes, "so long as wherever you go has phones you can always get me," he looked straight into Mum's face, "just dial 999 and ask for Uncle Dan."

Mum ushered us both upstairs dragging our bags from our shoulders for closer inspection. I heard her hysterical whispers.

"You're EVIL!" she hissed, "Like your whole cursed family, EVIL!"

"Yeah," Dan said in a voice meant to carry, "you'd know about that wouldn't you after all."

More hysterical hissing took place, and I heard Uncle Dan's voice,

"Marge," he said coldly, "I hope you die – horribly, slowly and in great pain – just so you can see how much pain you caused one of the nicest and most harmless blokes on the planet earth." I heard Mum's sharp intake of breath, "you run as far and as fast as you like bitch," my wonderful warm Uncle Dan growled, "I will always be able to find my brother's children." The front door slammed and that was that for my Dad's family for five years.



We never did move again, Tim had passed his "Eleven Plus" exam it was enough problem getting him to the grammar school already. So we grew up with no contact with anyone, I would ring Uncle Dan at his station or his house occasionally. He told me he was getting married, and I sent a gift and a card, bought out of the money he had given me almost two years ago. I'd managed to keep it and the address book secret from Mum and Tim.

While I tried to remember Dad and Nan, Tim didn't have my longer memories and was soon complaining about Dad's family the same as Mum did – I don't know why, he only ever really met them at Dad's funeral.



Despite going to a 'comprehensive' school, I was able to get reasonably A' levels, and in an England where student grants and free University education was still available I qualified as a teacher at a good college in London. Tim got better marks than me of course and qualified for two colleges at Cambridge, but strangely enough didn't go, choosing to study Art at Manchester Polytechnic. I would return to Mum and Tim at Holidays of course, but it always seemed like I was intruding. Now I was studying in London, I was back in contact with Uncle Dan and that side of the family. I knew of course not to let Mum know.

I had a small framed picture of Dan, his wife Trish and their twin boys hidden under my knickers in the top drawer of my dresser. That flat I'd lived in since my freshman year was being sold so I had to move all of my stuff out.

A few days later Tim stormed into the bathroom while I was sat on the loo.

"Elaine!" he said in his affected public school nasal whine, "What the fuck is this?"

"Tim!" I snorted dropping my dress over my bare legs and knickers around my ankles, "I'm on the toilet you perv!"

"What's this hmm?" his indignation was massive.

"It's a picture of Dan and his wife and kids," I hissed not wanting Mum to hear.

"Have you thought how this would upset Mum?" he snorted, "Well have you?"

"Of course, why do you think I HID IT in my underwear drawer!" I said trying to wave him out of the bathroom, "get out and let me finish what I'm doing!"

"We'll discuss this later!" he fumed pulling the door shut behind him. 

I sorted myself out and went straight back to my bedroom to check out the rest of his intrusion into my privacy. Like all of the doors at Mums house the heavy brass door furniture all included keys for as long as I could remember. I noticed now that my door key was missing.

Like lots of girls my age I had a vibrator courtesy of an Ann Summers party one of the girl's had organised at the halls of residence in college. There were nowhere near as common or as easy to get in those days and it was a prized and secret possession of mine, carefully wrapped in toilet paper after I cleaned it after its last use. I now saw that the toilet roll was scrunched up at one end and it was now underneath the 'Fruit of the loom' T-shirt is had been tucked in to.

I wrapped it in the loom T-shirt and felt around under the bed for my trusty loose floorboard, the place that had held my secrets since I'd discovered it almost seven years ago. I looked for my photo of Uncle Dan – Tim obviously still had it, so I stormed into his bedroom the same way he'd walked in on me. 

Tim jumped up from his bed,

"Where's my picture shithead?" I growled at him. He looked slightly scared of me, I was and always had been physically bigger than him. 

"I'll tell Mum," he said gulping nervously.

"Oh for fuck's sake Tim, your twenty years old," I snorted derisively, "now where is my picture?"

"Here," he said reaching under his pillow, and in the pulling I noticed the colour of one of my favourite bikini pants.

"You're not sneaking my knickers as well are you, Perv?" I drawled back at him. He went pink and stuttered a bit.

"Well I had to hide it in something didn't I?" he said after a few seconds.

"No," I snorted snatching both the frame and my knickers from him, "you could have left them where they were and not interfered with my fucking stuff in the first place." I stormed out of his bedroom, pausing only to stop at his door and take his key from the lock. "When I get my key back you can have yours. And what, pray," I began, "gives you the bloody right to be going through my dresser in..." 

"What key?" my mum snapped from the passage.

"My door key Mum," I said, "it was there at Easter, I pretty sure it was there last night, I caught my jacket on something when I came in at least. Now it's missing and I sort of want my privacy these days."

"Wh... wh..." she recovered quickly, "why? Do you have secrets you need to keep from us these days hmm?" she snarled at me, "now you are a high living London teacher? Hmm?" she persisted.

"What?" I said in shock, "I just want my privacy Mum, it may be that no one has noticed but I'm a 23 year old woman now, and I don't want my younger brother walking in on me when he feels like it!"

"Darling!" mum sighed and walked across to Tim and sat by him on the bed, pulling his head to rest on her shoulder, "never mind my Timmy," she said as if talking to a ten years old, "Mummy will always want you..."

It seemed that in my three year on and off absence I had become a bit of a persona non grata within my house. I shut my door and wedged it with a chair, putting my picture under the bed with my toy.

My key never did arrive and I guessed that Mum and/or Tim still reserved the right to walk in on my life pretty much at will. That was that pretty much and I realised that my time feeling at home here was over.

After the holiday I went back for my final year at college and started to look for jobs. Fortunately the various county education departments all advertised in the college and the library took all the broadsheets and with all the best adverts.

I applied to the Surrey Education Authority and, providing I passed my finals, I would start work in a rather nice primary school just south of London and Uncle Dan and Trish. My finals were successful I was signed up to work in a really sweet primary school that served a small but nice post-war housing estate. I had done a fair amount of shadowing during teacher training and I was ready for the challenge.

Once settled in, I rented a small flat and started to move my stuff south, as much as I could carry at a time. Dan, Trish, my Uncle Ralph and a whole selection of cousins I knew I had but hadn't seen helped me move in and decorate. Uncle Dan, among other things, was a superb driver and taught me to drive using Trish's small car to practice. Then, after half a dozen lessons with a professional instructor to smooth off the rough edges I took my driving test and passed first time.

Celebrating at his house, he raised his wine glass,

"Darling Elaine," he said, "your father would have been so proud of you. I certainly am." He grinned a wide parental grin that so reminded me of my Dad and Nanny Barnes. I sniffed and wiped my nose. "So with all of that in mind, it's time for me to give you something I've been looking after for you for, let me see, yes, must be ten years or more now." He stood and walked to a bureau resting against the wall and opened the flap, he reached in and brought out a small green bank book and handed it to me.

"Your Dad left this in my care," he said, "There's one here for Tim when you think he's ready."

I opened the bank book; a quick look showed it had been updated yearly and as of that April I had ninety thousand pounds in my bank account. With closer attention I learned that this was as a result of the interest on the money and also some income from shares that I had been left.

"I..." I stammered, "Uncle Dan, I don't know what to say," my eyes were brimming with tears. 

"Don't worry Elaine, it's no more than your Dad would have done for me and what I promised him I'd do for you both. It should be enough to buy you a house, and if you're careful a car to make those trips home easier."

No sooner said than done, I bought myself a Ford Fiesta XR2 sports car. However, I didn't drive it to Manchester for my last trip home preferring to rent myself a large Transit van that would hold all of my stuff, although with my mum the way she was I wasn't sure what would be mine and what wouldn't.

I parked the van in the next street and using my key let myself in. The house was quiet so I tiptoed in and made myself a well-earned cup of tea, after my four hour drive.

Mum and Tim must have heard my tea making and appeared slightly flushed and embarrassed looking as if I'd caught them at something. 

"Oh, look who it is Tim," said Mum, "the prodigal returns."

Tim shook his head looking disappointed, 

"Not before time," he said, reaching for the cup I'd just made myself. I got to it before him and sipped at the steaming lip.

"There's plenty in the pot," I said.

"Yeah, well that might be my cup," he said petulantly.

"Yours is the Manchester United one," I said lifting it down from the its accustomed place in the cupboard.

"Yeah," he sneered, "but I might have wanted that one." He made to snatch for it but I moved it just out of his reach and he managed to hit it and spill hot tea on his hand. He pulled his hand back and sucked his fingers. Not in the whiney mummy's boy way he would have had about him that would have had Mum crooning all over him, but almost as if he was sucking the tea from his fingers for someone's benefit. I hoped it wasn't for mine.

So what do we owe this pleasure?" he said, as if it was his house. Mum almost simpered next to him.

I've just come for the last of my stuff," I said.

"Stuff?" Tim said with his nose in the air, "Stuff? Hmm... what fantastic grammar you have," he sneered, "And you are going to be educating this country's children Elaine?"

Mum giggled like a soppy girl.

"The last of my clothes Tim," I said, "Hopefully you don't have too many pairs of my knickers under your pillow anymore?"

Tim looked chastened by my little burst of humour, while Mum looked furious, as if my revelation wasn't new to her. She looked like a small tremble went through her.

"There's nothing here that belongs to you Elaine," said Mum. "It all belongs to me."

"I'll take my clothes, my books and my dressing table." I said.

"You don't have a dressing table," said snapped Mum, her arms folded and with the slightest shake to her head.

"Nanny Barnes gave it to me when I was four Mum, remember?" I said, then added, "Uncle Dan helped Dad carry it in, it was Great Nanny's," Mum had lost her anger but replaced it with petulance at the mention of my Police officer uncle.

"Best of luck getting the fucking thing down stairs and back to whichever hell hole you're renting on your own dear," she grinned mirthlessly. She stalked away, "Oh and by the way?" she tapped my tea mug dramatically, "Those groceries don't buy themselves?" I took a twenty pound note from my jeans and dropped it on the floor in front of her.

"Oops," I said, "don't worry mother, I'll be gone before the night is out." 

"Oh," she said bobbing down to get the note, "don't forget the loft..." She let the last syllable hang in the air as she knew I'd been terrified of attics since childhood.

That was a long time ago though, and that little girl had grown out of the fear that mum had played on for many years.

"Okay," I said, "I'll do that."

And I did; I found a shoebox full of envelopes all written to me. I found bags of toys and soft toys, gifts that I'd been given but she'd seen fit to hide up here. I also found wrapped gifts, with labels from family and friends. I took the ones with my name on.

I folded the ladder and pushed it back up into the loft where the spring took it and closed the hatch after. Tim appeared from his room looking not petulant but scared almost.

"You got into the loft then?" he said.

"Yes," I said, "did you know about all our stuff up there? Oh no, you don't approve of 'stuff' dear brother do you."

"What... stuff?"

"Presents from Dad and Nanny, and all sorts of aunts and uncles." I said, "I've got all of mine; You know that train set that Dad promised you?"


The Really Complicated Family Ch. 01



He swallowed,

"Yes?" 

"I think you'll find it's all up there."

"But I'm not allowed up there."

"Tim, you're twenty one this year, of course you can go up there."

I could see the years of repression leaching out for release. 

"Mum said..." he struggled, "She said Dad didn't..."

"Go up and look one day, by the look of the number of parcels you probably have the whole set."

"Look," he said, "Just how do you intend moving all of this gear of yours, you can't leave it in the hallway and front room all weekend you know."

"I don't intend to, I rented a van," I said.

"A van?"

"Yeah, you didn't think I was going to carry it all to London did you?"

"I didn't know you..."

"Tim," I said, "Come with me, I've got room at my flat, you can stay with me..."

"No!" he snapped, "what about mum?"

"Yeah, what about me?" said Mum walking out of Tim's room, "you trying to take him away from me are you, you slut."

"What did you call me?"

"You heard; I bet that's how you managed to get some bloke to drive you here, by sleeping with him no doubt. Ah well, like Father like daughter."

"What!"

"You heard you thieving bitch, your dad slept around that's why I kicked him out. There," she said, "now you know the truth, get your shitty furniture down my staircase. Tim, back in your room, leave this whore and her latest fuck to move it, unless she thinks she can shift it on her own." She flounced away.

Mum had forgotten that since I had moved six or seven times I knew very well how my dressing table came apart and I stripped it, carrying each piece downstairs and walking around the corner to my innocent looking van and loading them onto blankets. Both Mum and Tim were totally absent, I suppose it meant they wouldn't have to help me.

After a couple of hours I'd thrown the last of my stuff into black plastic sacks. At a few minutes after midnight I was lifting the floor board under my bed and pulling out an almost forgotten treasury. There were notes, a few pictures, toys, figures and a lock of my hair I'd cut with a promise to send it to Nanny Barnes. That all went into my hand bag. I was surprised to find three pairs of knickers in my drawer though. That was strange, after seeing them under Tim's pillow, I'd taken them all away with me. I didn't want to think too much about where they might have been.

I looked up at Tim's bedroom window and promised myself I'd be back for him one day. There was something really wrong there. I started the van and drove away from their house not realising I'd not see them for a few years.

There was a passing shot from her, and I was a bit scared when I saw blue flashing lights behind me and was pulled over by the police on the M1 as I headed south to begin my life again. The policeman asked to see my license and I showed him.

"Strange," he said, "we had a report that this van was being driven without a license and insurance."

"Tell Mrs Barnes or Ms Foster or whatever my Mum called herself that I passed my driving test seven months ago, and if she paid me some attention rather than my brother she might have remembered me telling her."

The officer chuckled, wished me well and got back in his car. I drove to the next service station and grabbed a hot drink and a snack and lay down on a mixed pile of soft toys, bin bags of clothes, a pile of sheets and blankets covered with my old quilt and slept my first sleep as a free woman.

The months passed, and my first class was great. Miss Barnes' first class had a great time, they were in their second year of lessons, and watching children suddenly find out about reading and writing and what a fantastic place the world could be was a delight and I felt honoured to be involved in it. 

My personal life was OK, I went out with some mates from college, went on the pill, and I had some short term relationships, those days were pre-AIDS of course. I did enjoy sex, casual or not, and my when my trusty old 'non-doctor' vibrator finally stopped working I bravely to the nearest tube station and travelled into London and bought another one so my nights wouldn't be so boring.

I sat around on my long nights alone and thinking of about a long term relationship for which I seemed unable to maintain. Uncle Dan was always asking how my love life was and he met a few of my male friends, and in our quiet moments Trish would ask if it 'was all OK'. I'd smile and regale her with the latest break-up I'd been through. After many failed romances I finally found out from one retreating boyfriend who was by that stage a qualified therapist, that I was "hard to reach, needy, unforgiving and expected perfection from everyone but myself," which probably explained everything – Mum it seemed had finally had her revenge on me and Dad.

I told myself that I would wait my turn, someone would turn up no doubt. After a few years of no more than phone calls and letters I finally got a call from Tim; Mum had been taking ill, so I took the next day, a Friday, off and jumped in my XR2 and what had previously taken four or five hours now took me about three.

Mum was in her bed and her room, and looked awful. She'd had a stroke and the whole right side of her body had slipped down. She struggled to talk to me, and I just put a hand on hers to let her know not to strain herself. She whispered to me and I dropped my ear to her face.

"Look... after... your... brother..." she hissed and slumped back onto the bed.

She recovered extremely slowly but struggled to continue to look after Tim. So I visited once a month to make sure they were OK. Mum continually complained that I should move back but I had by now bought my own house in Surrey, was assistant headmaster at my primary and a lived in a bit of a social whirl.

She continued to badger me to 'look after Tim', and on my weekend visits I slept on the sofa; on my first visit I found that my room had now been turned into a vast model train layout, while his room, and the rest of the house in fact had been turned into a kind of art gallery to his own work. He had qualified with a degree in fine arts from Manchester Polytechnic, although once he had it, it seemed that he had no idea what he could do with it. 

He tried to sell his work, he was good but not brilliant, and Mum told me the location of each of the nine works he'd sold professionally. He ended up working in the Polytechnic's central library, as Mum put it, waiting for his work to take off. In the meantime he'd carry on with his train set, painting something now again and latterly looking after our ever ageing and ailing Mum.

On the first Saturday morning I woke to a rattle of crockery in the kitchen, Tim was obviously up and about and I could see from the shadow under the still badly fitted kitchen door he was stood just the other side of it – something we'd both learned to do as teenagers when we reckoned Mum was listening to us talking. He was waiting for something, I was about to shout out my usual insult to him of 'Perv' but instead just rustled some clothing but stayed sitting. I stood, he must have counted to five and burst in, to find me folding my sleeping bag dressed in a T-shirt and track trousers I'd silently slipped on over my nightdress.

He looked disappointed but recovered quickly enough and handed me a mug of tea and plate of toast.

"I'm just about to take Mum some," he said, leaving the plate on an occasional table that formed part of my childhood like much of everything else in the place. I thanked him and sipped my tea.

I heard the hum of the stair lift an hour later and was impressed with how spritely she appeared since my last visit.

She came in the room with a small basket of laundry tucked under the arm not holding her walking stick.

"Do you have any washing that needs doing Elaine?" she said to me with a rare smile that looked almost genuine. I had my blouse, skirt, tights and knickers from the previous day, and they were laying across a small chair I had used as part bedside table. "Give those here," she said brightly, "that'll be enough to make up one load in the machine."

Not thinking anything worse I handed them over and she tucked the few pieces under her arm and walked off towards the kitchen and lean-to utility room with the washing machine and drier.

I helped Tim with some sorting out, even finding a few more possessions in the loft. When I asked him about his train set Mum had admitted that the set was there and while Dad had purchased bits of it she had added to it over the years herself. He hinted that he hadn't quite believed her as she didn't seem to recognise anything or know any of the names of the engines or track. Once he had gone up into the loft he took the labels and realised that they were all from Dad, Nanny and various Aunts and Uncles. Now set up in my old room, it was something to see – he had even painted a mural around the wall to look like scenery.

We had tea on Saturday night and it was quite sweet, something it had never been in my youth. Both Mum and Tim were chatty and nice, asking after my career, my school and my house. I showed them a few photos of my place, and once Mum had headed off up the chair lift, I asked Tim if he'd thought about getting a place.

He said that he didn't have my kind of income, and he and Mum were still paying rent after all these years.

"Tim," I said, "Uncle Dan has your share of Dad's money. Last time I looked there was the best of ninety thousand pounds in there."

"What?" he said incredulously; I didn't know if he was going to cry, get angry or cheer.

"Dad's wish was that once we were both old enough and mature enough to know what to do with it he should hand it over. I've bought my place of course, and I'm not a great expert financially, but I reckon you could probably by this place outright, get a car and have enough to redecorate. You could have a couple of holidays with the change."

"Oh," he said, with the look of a young man that has suddenly realised he can pretty much take the rest of his career off.

"Come south for a week Tim, come meet the rest of the family, have a holiday."

"Well," he said, "Mum wouldn't like it." He said.

"Bring Mum with you," I said, "she still has family down there don't forget." Indeed she had, I was a reasonably regular visitor to my Aunt Veronica or 'Ronnie', Mum's younger sister, who lived in Camden and was more than fifteen years younger in years but at least five hundred in outlook and temperament. She taught at the London School of Economics and Mum stayed in letter, Christmas and birthday card contact with her, talking to us at length about her achievements but forgetting to mention the other TWO women she lived with. When we were kids we had gone and stayed with Aunt Ronnie, but only once mind you!

Once back in London I made contact, and I was invited to visit her for Easter on my first term at Teacher training college. Their fantastic three storey town house was so cool and sophisticated for a girl that had been raised in the small enclosure of life in a northern city that Mum had allowed us. The happy, complicated, entangled trio was Ronnie, Debs and Vivienne.

Viv, the tallest, skinniest and most vivacious was openly gay; we went out for a drink on the evening of Good Friday and we all put some booze away and it became even more obvious, she drank pints of bitter in long glasses and smoked roll-ups, which for a small town girl with a mother like mine was tantamount to a tattoo across the forehead. 

Aunt Ronnie was leaning against the bar and Viv was leaning against her.

"Go easy," said Ronnie conscious of my surprised look. Debs was stood next to me laughing at her girlfriends.

"Look Ron," slurred Viv her hands stroking up and down Ronnie's waist, and nuzzling her neck, "she looks surprised," she giggled, "but NOT," Viv squeaked "that upset about it."

She kissed Ronnie's cheek, then they both gave it up and kissed full on, tongues and everything. I think that while I thought myself a sophisticated student, seeing my Aunt swapping spit like a mad woman was a bit shocking! 

Then there was Debs; short, curvy, sexy Scottish redhead – girlishly pretty with a slight tomboyishness at the edges. They all lectured either at the LSE or UCL, and still to this day I don't understand who does what to whom, where and with what and how often. Through lying awake quite a few time in the house I do know that pot was smoked, bedroom doors never closed, all three had very distinctively different giggles and gasps, and three sometimes isn't a crowd.

When we walked back to the house on that warm spring evening, slightly unsteadily, I heard Ronnie and Viv trying to whisper to each other, and I heard the words, "leave her alone Viv, she's not one of us...", "yeah but we could make her one!" They both collapsed in giggles and, stopping only at a chip shop, we eventually made it to our own beds. Whether two or three of them climbed into bed together I don't know but by the time I got up the next morning, Ronnie and Debs were sat in short T-shirt nightdresses at the huge communal kitchen table looking as bleary eyed as I felt.

"I hope we didn't embarrass you last night Darling," said Aunt Ronnie, "We're all a little set in our ways and a bit too wild sometimes."

"You didn't embarrass me at all Ron," I said smiling, but at once noticing Debs had tucked her left foot on her seat stretching her T-shirt with her thighs, thereby exposing her neatly trimmed puss to me in a 'not exposing it' kind of way that made it look almost accidental. As Ronnie walked across the kitchen to get me a mug and lifted the pot to pour tea, Debs leant back and gave me a long silent look that pretty much said, 'much as I want to be your friend and you're my friend/girlfriend/occasional lover's much loved niece, if you see anything you want, you can help yourself'.

At that time I was a bit scared but was a bit tempted, and in the occasional sexy dream I relived that moment and reached out and to touch that ginger bush as Debs flashed me her sexy beaming grin while I strummed through that wiry brush to the moistness beneath.

Seeing as I'm in confession mode anyway, it wasn't for another year and a mad drunken summer barbeque that I actually did. We ended up in the long grass behind a potting shed both tearing at the ridiculously short and revealing denim shorts and T-shirts we all wore at the time, which she told me later gave her the clue – straight girls don't wear sexy stuff to a 'dyke do'. I was extremely pissed but then if I hadn't been I'm not sure I would have done what I did. 

We lay in the cool grass and snogged and it was very nice, different from the stubbly faced blokes and red chins I'd had before. Debs was very patient with me and stroked and strummed as we stripped each other, and I tried drunkenly to reciprocate. I was extremely tense and nervous, and with the bottles of wine and beer I had drunk ended with me pushing her from her hard won place between my legs to stagger on my knees through brambles to vomit copiously behind a large and blooming buddleia.

Naked, I slumped on the grass wiping my chin and crying in low sobs, rubbing my grazed knees. Debs put her arm around me, and hugged me,

"Don't worry sweetie," she said, "everyone throws up behind this tree, famous for it!"

I told her how embarrassed I was and that I had been... was keen to... to do whatever it was we were going to do... and...

She hugged me again and I felt her large naked boobs push against mine.

"Don't you worry honey," she grinned, "one night, when you are a feeling better, I'll make you feel EVEN better, trust me!"

She helped me back into my T-shirt and knickers and I staggered back to the house and the bathroom and eventually the spare room. Still mortified with embarrassment I only half hoped that Debs wouldn't come and join me.

The next morning, the scratches on my knees seemed to tell the kitchen where I'd been and who with. When Debs arrived, she rubbed my forehead and asked if I was OK. When Aunt Ron appeared she took one look at my knees, and turned to Viv and Debs,

"OK then," she sighed with a grin, "which one of you dragged my innocent young niece behind the potting shed?"

"Me Miss," said Debs, her head bowed, "but don't worry, it was only so she could throw up behind the butterfly tree."

"Really? Said Ron.

"Oh yes," said Deb's. She stood and turned slightly so her back was towards Ron. "why," She lifted her T-shirt to show the naked, shapely behind I had just started to get to know the night before, "was I naughty?"

"Hmm," said Ron, "well at least you're over twenty one Lainey," she said, using my old family nickname.

That evening, when I left to go back my flat, I did promise Debs' a re-match and that winter, with Auntie Ron and Viv at an LSE alumni fundraiser, Debs showed me what she had meant and what I had missed following my drunken fumblings. It was fantastic and I came more than any time before. In what must have been her grooming of me, Debs showed me what was possible between two reasonably supple women and I have never forgotten. Debs remains my only venture to the Isle of Lesbos, ventures to be exact, and I still haven't written off the part of my life, in fact my last visit was only eight months ago.

Tim said he would think about it, and we wished each other a good night and headed to our various beds. The next morning I awoke and thought I should return the favour of tea and toast in bed for my hosts. Mum was still sleepy and found out with a grin that she wore dentures and probably had done for many years.

My real shock was pushing the door to Tim's room which opened soundlessly. He lay on his bed, his duvet thrown to the side, naked. He had always been skinny but had the tiniest belly on him. But my real shock came when I saw his flaccid penis lying along his thigh. It was not thick but amazingly long, the next shock came when I noticed the knickers I had given up for the laundry the previous day half under his thigh and within inches of the end of his penis; they were dark and the large white stain across the back of them was unmistakable. 

I managed not to drop his cup and plate of toast. In that second, those times when my knickers had gone missing and one pair had turned up under his pillow all made sense. 

I backed out of his room and stopped, trying to work out how to deal with this. I just had this mental image of him masturbating into my pants for many years, and while I wanted to feel disgusted the image of his long penis took my mind off of that. I heard him stir slightly so stepped forward and tapped on his door.

"Hang on," he said, and I heard what must have been him trying to cover himself up, so I pushed the door open in the same kind of way he had to me the morning before. He had covered up his bottom half and just managed to push something underneath him – my come stained knickers I guessed.

He took his tea and toast gratefully and I headed next door into the bathroom for a shower. Under the heat and refreshing power of the shower I brightened up. With the memory of Ronnie, Viv and Debs fresh in my mind, and the new vision of Tim's long penis had my nipples hard as rocks and I could do nothing but strum across my clit until I trembled to a lovely orgasm, my first in months.

I switched off the power and stepped out hearing something move in the room next to the bathroom, Tim's, I guessed he was getting up. I wrapped the towel around me and left so Tim or Mum could make use of the room while I dried and dressed elsewhere. 

Stepping outside in just my towel, I saw Tim in his light cotton pyjamas. I turned and smiled at him telling him the bathroom was all his. 

Realising that the towel only just covered what it needed to I turned and stepped over my bag I had brought upstairs with me. Raising my right leg high I knew it would expose the white cheeks of my bottom, and I did. Stepping over my bag I turned quickly enough to see his huge erection tenting his light cotton pyjama trousers. Christ but it looked big; I had slept with half a dozen or so guys in the ten years I'd lived away from Mum and Tim and had never tried anything that size before and wondered if I could.




The Really Complicated Family Ch. 01



I stepped into my old room now full of trains and dried myself and dressed. Stepping out into the hallway I decided to retrieve my knickers and pay him back a little by him having to guess whether I'd found them or Mum had.

Once in his room I sat in his bed and reached under his pillow. There they were, the come stain wet, fresh and smelling of male ejaculate and quite huge, he must have come bucket loads. If I hadn't been sat on his bed like I was, I would never have spotted the tiny spot of light under a shelf on his bookcase. I moved closer thinking it must be a spot of light reflecting off of something, but as I moved closer it stayed in place. I moved a handful of books and saw it was a hole the size of large coin and looked straight through into the shower cubicle I had just stood in. The books would have easily hidden the hole went put back in place. The books were large and not the kind of book I would have expected an 30 year old man to have on his shelves – but they were the perfect size to cover up his perv hole.

I looked through and looked straight at his huge now erect penis, with his a pair of bovine looking testicles hanging and swinging beneath. The dirty bastard. He was pulling his foreskin back and forth wanking his long prick and groaning,

"Lainey!" he groaned, revisiting his pet name for me of many years ago, "Oh Lainey, fuck my cock, take it, take it... aaah!" He turned side on showing me the whole length of his cock just in time for a long spurt of white come to jet out , followed by a second and then a third, replaced by a few dribbles he squeezed out to splash on the floor of the shower. He took a handful of shower gel and washed off his deflating penis, and I thought it time to move on.

By the time he'd dried I was downstairs and putting my bag in my car and asking mum about the washing she'd done for me. She went straight out to the kitchen and returned with my blouse, skirt and tights.

"I'm not sure where your knickers are Elaine," she smiled, "they're probably stuck in with something of mine, they'll turn up in time for your next visit I'm sure."

I knew they were in my bag safely wrapped in my towel. What I had done however, was place a spare clean pair that looked a lot like the ones I'd taken in with Mum's clean washing, I figured neither of them would ask too many questions.

Over lunch I looked at Tim and him at me and there were no outward signs that he'd watched me masturbate in the shower and then I'd watched him, even though he was unaware that I knew his dirty little secret, and upon reflection I guessed he'd probably cut that hole and had been ogling me through it since I first left home for college as an eighteen year old twelve years before. 

He'd had almost three years of nothing during out estrangement and I guessed he must have resort to porn books or his memories of me.

I pecked them both on the cheek, jumped in my car, folded the top down and started my now familiar M1 dash back to my little place in Surrey. All the way back, and through the four or five CD's in the multichanger all I could think of was my knickers soaked with his come in my bag.

When I got home I took the wet towel out of my bag and was instantly hit by the strong smell of come. The towel had made my knickers wet and the come was almost like it was fresh. Fighting my feeling that this was all wrong I made it to my bedroom, and tore off my clothes and fell back on my bed. My pants had not made it to the laundry at Mum's and I could see the faint white line that my daytime of wear had left in it. 

Immediately behind this and on the backside of my bikini knickers was a large splash of come he'd obviously jerked into it, groaning my name as he wanked himself to orgasm.

With my nose buried in his come in my knickers I strummed my clit and puss to a frenzy coming like I hadn't done for many years. I repeated this once more that night and again for the two or three nights afterwards. The following weekend I forced myself to put my knickers into the wash; the smell had pretty much gone and the amount of masturbation I had done meant that my poor puss was quite sore and the knickers smelt of my rather than Tim's come.

A month later I was back and as promised the knickers I had left there were washed and left on the work top on the kitchen. I picked them up and smelled them, sniffing only the fabric conditioner that Mum would have washed them with, but in doing so I imagined a month's worth of come being pumped into them from Tim's donkey prick. 

We all went out for a meal that night, but all I could think of was getting into the shower and letting Tim have another look. I would then replace him at the spy hole and watch as he did his thing. I fought the impulse to shower until the next morning, instead just choosing to lay back on my sofa and play with myself through the cotton thong I was wearing. If Tim was doing the same as me he would be sniffing my crotch so I decided to let him have the full benefit. 

I slept well and started to wake up at my usual 'work o'clock' and could hear that Tim must have done the same. He was trying to come down the stairs as quietly as possible, probably not to wake me. As it was a warm night I'd slept only in my damp knickers, leaving my T-shirt and PJ shorts within easy reach. Hearing him in the kitchen I rolled onto my back nudging the unzipped sleeping bag to slip as naturally as possible, exposing my full 36C breasts to the fresh air and his gaze.

Whether it was the fresh air or his gaze my nipples stuck up and out and to greet him, and I tried to lay as naturally as possible and let him see the bits of me he couldn't see through his spy hole. I heard the door slip open and him jump through as he had before hoping to catch me partially clothed. I stirred just a bit but managed to stay looking like I was still sleeping, and he just stood there and gazed, I turned my head to one side mumbling a bit, one eye cracked open just the tiniest bit to see his stiff prick pushing his pants out in front, and his chest heaving. 

I raised my right leg which pushed my sleeping bag off of me to rest at my shins exposing my green thong panties. I rolled to my right, with my left leg crooked up, knowing it would make my arse stick out. I heard him groan slightly knowing that thin satin of the thong must be stuck into the crease of my bottom.

I heard him pad away and I feared I might have pushed him too far and he'd run to the bathroom or his bedroom to relieve the pressure in his balls. But he retreated to the kitchen and his tea and toast. 

I quickly pulled on my PJ's and stood up, folding my sleeping bag away for tonight's rest.

Mum appeared and we all ate our breakfast in the kitchen looking out to the large garden. I looked at Tim and Mum and said I was heading to the shower. Tim looked nervously at Mum as I stood up. Turning back into the room I saw that she had smiled and nodded to him. 

I ran upstairs, looking at the shower wall and noticing that the small whole was under the power shower unit, and covered on the other side by white card which made almost invisible added that it was so low down no one would have seen it.

I cleaned my teeth to give Tim time to into place and listened for movement in his bedroom. Guessing he was there I began my shower washing myself as I normally would have done, only this time I made sure my puss was pointing to the hole in the shower the whole time. 

I took my razor in and trimmed my fur Vee down a bit, gently stroking my clit I built myself up to the moment. In a moment of sexual frenzy I turned away from the hole, only to bend at the waist slightly and scrub at my pussy lips and arse pointing my round bottom at the hole. I was sure, almost, I heard a groan from my audience. It was enough and I came, buzzing and vibrating with one of my best orgasms ever.

I rested against the opposite wall of the shower and came down, lightly brushing my pussy lips and gently crooning to myself from the ecstasy I'd been through. I'd only just stopped myself calling his name as he'd done for me. Doing the same as the month before I wrapped my slightly shorter towel this time around me and stepped outside calling to the house that the bathroom was now free. Tim appeared red faced at his door, and thanked me noticing that my green satin thong had fallen from my grip and was just outside the bathroom door - where I'd left it for him.

When I came out of my old room Tim, and my panties I noticed, had gone. The buzz of his electric razor let me know he was in the shower. 

I had a thought; he'd obviously wanked to my demonstration in the shower – chances are he'd finished.

In his bedroom, I checked under his pillow and there were no panties. His bin was free from wet tissues so he might not have done. Prepared this time, I wore a light cotton skirt and no knickers, and moving his books to one side I saw his long penis and settled in the warm spot on the carpet he'd left moments ago, I lifted my skirt to one side in readiness. He didn't disappoint.

"Oh Lainey," he groaned again, "I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come," he gasped, "Oh Lainey please let me come on your arse, I wanna squeeze your big tits, and come on... oooooh shit!" he gasped and again he turned to splatter his jizz on the shower wall and down towards the outlet. Again, I don't know if he'd been saving it or if it was his usual amount but he came gallons again. Panting with one eye to the wall I gasped at the same time.

So once a month I we played out our little game. I'd leave a pair of panties or two behind, but nothing else; no one ever asked why I would take my shirt and blouse home washed, dried and folded but the knickers I'd brought with me stayed behind, and the two pairs from my last visit came back. I'd allow him an occasional sneaky peak of top OR bottom (never both) as I lay allegedly sleeping on the sofa, before breakfast then after that I headed to the bathroom where he got a good look at everything I had going on. Every now and again I would drop stuff and had to drop down to pick it up, ensuring that my boobs squished together with both stingingly nipples pointing at him. I'd also make sure that when I scrubbed between my arse cheeks they were pointing at him every time. I'd also sigh as I pulled them apart, bending forward so he'd see my anus, as I rinsed the soap away.

Our little family was happier than it had ever been before thanks to our unspoken, unrecognised perversions. Assuming he washed my knickers that were soaked in his come, I didn't know what part Mum had to play. I was soon to find out.



The Really Complicated Family Ch. 02



Many thanks for the comments - to all of the grammar and typing experts sorry about the mistakes, hope I didn't spoil your 'enjoyment'.

Yes, it's a 'several part' work, not sure how many yet, but have notched it up now, enjoy... 

*

Mum had suffered a bit of fall and was admitted to hospital. Tim rang me and told me not to panic, she'd fallen while he'd been at home and she had complained of extreme pain. Sensibly he rang for an ambulance, and using gas and air, she was lifted to the back of an ambulance and taken to the local accident and emergency.

Given a new hip joint mum was in hospital for at least three weeks, so I said that I would visit most weekends. Auntie Ronnie went to visit for a weekend so I insisted that Tim came south to visit me and, at last, Uncle Dan who still had a small green bank book for him.

I took the Friday and Monday off and had a long weekend with my brother. I picked him up from their house, went to visit Mum and told her I was taking him for a rest.

"Which home?" she said with just a hint of a tone.

"Mine," I said and added, "he's had a tough time and needs some time off, I can do that better at my place than at yours. He's just going to have a couple of days holiday with me spoiling him!" I beamed at her like a mad thing and she seemed to respond to this.

Packing him and a small bag of clothes into my car we headed south. With his long days and disturbed nights it didn't take long for him to nod off. I didn't mind, and turned my stereo down low enough to hear but not to wake him. 

Three hours later he woke as I negotiated the four sets of 'pain in the arse' traffic lights in my sleepy little Surrey town.

He woke, stretched and looked around him at the fresh greens of summer Surrey, and seemed impressed.

"You drive very well," he said as the engine stilled on my drive.

"Thanks," I said, "it's practice. You should learn," I added, "you can take Mum for days out."

"Oh I do," he said, "we get tokens from the council and we go out for days, but travelling around in Manchester in a car is such a pain; it's much easier on a bus or a taxi at a push."

"Yeah," I said, "but you'll find out there's life outside Manchester." I looked across the car at him, "when was the last time you travelled outside Lancashire?" He lifted his bag of clothes out of the boot of the car.

"I don't know," he said looking quizzical, "Probably our last holiday, we went to Mablethorpe, on a coach that time though."

"Well in a car you could go when and where you, like and not have to worry about being back in time for the driver."

"We're OK," he said with a smile, "we get by, besides we had everything we needed on the coach holiday." 

Into the kitchen I filled the electric kettle and sat on a chair at the table. Tim, stared in surprise at my light, bright, modern kitchen. The kitchen was everything you would have expected in a '70's northern soap or sitcom. The built in cooker and automatic washing machine was new to him, Mum insisting on using her old twin tub.

"So enough about you and Mum, what about you Tim?"

"Me?" he said surprised, "What about me?"

"How goes life with you -- friends, girlfriends, hobbies that kind of thing."

"What with caring for Mum I don't get a lot of time for hobbies and stuff." He said quietly, "I still paint of course, the model railway is always there of course."

"What about when you were at the Poly," I said, "you must have had girls after you like crazy." Although I would never have admitted it to him he was rather attractive and, well, one look at that huge penis of his would have turned any girls head.

"Nah," he said, "I was busy studying," he looked out of the window then back at me, "How about you," he said.

"Nah," I replied with a sigh, "I went out with a few blokes, had a few long term relationships but, what with one thing and another," I left my totally fucked up psyche out of it for the time being, "none of them ever worked out."

I could see he was bursting to say something, and eventually he did.

"You were never..." he paused.

"I was never what?" I asked.

"Well, Veronica would ring Mum and say that you'd stayed over," he looked down at his lap, "it wasn't because of..."

"No, you perv!" I chuckled back with my usual teenage insult of him, which I had since realised actually was his real life letching at me. 

Again, I didn't actually want him to know that I'd had damp knickers for little Scots Debs for over five years by that stage and we shared beds and each other two or three times at year by that stage.

"I wasn't perving," he chuckled, starting to come out a little, "It's just Mum once said that she thought you might have been,"

"Why?"

"I don't know Lainey," he said, "She said all sorts of things about you after I..." he stopped, "after you fell out that time."

"Yes," I said, "I tried to forget her calling me a slut that time, was that because she thought I'd slept with other women?"

"No," he said, "She thought you were trying to take me away from her and just wanted something nasty to say to you, that was probably all she could think of at the time."

"Nice," I said, "still, you'll be pleased to know that I'm not a slut, but I'm not a virgin either." He looked a bit strange. I paused; it was if he wanted to say something but couldn't, "It doesn't matter if you are still Tim,"

"Oh, well," he flustered, "technically I'm not..." he said looking confused.

"Technically?" I said, standing to make two cups of coffee, something else their northern kitchen wasn't big on, "I kind of think you are or you aren't, there isn't much technical about it." He flushed bright red. 

I handed him a cup, smiling at him. "Don't worry, there is some beautiful woman out that will relieve you of your cherry completely and not just technically." 

"Yeah, right," he said sipping at the lip of his cup, tilting his head at the pleasant change to the staple of tea. "I won't hold my breath waiting for her if you don't mind."

"One day Tim," I said, "one day," I suggested he could take his cup to bed with him and showed him to his room, where the bathroom was and I said goodnight.

The spare room was bright, airy and very contemporary -- with no mortgage payments I'd even bought a TV for it with a remote control - it was a house with three televisions in it, something that at that time which was almost unheard of, and I heard him investigating it and the bedside radio alarm clock.

Mum's place had none of these. There was a TV in the living room, but that was it, there was a radio in the kitchen (tuned to the BBC) and in the front room there was a record player - as kids we weren't even allowed into that room let alone put on one of the precious records. Far be it from Tim to request anything different.

For some reason I slept naked that night, gently stroking my body and thinking of Tim's huge penis, Debs and the shiny white plastic vibrator in my knicker drawer.

It was a hot night, and at some stage I must have pushed my duvet off of me. As it was that April 'not quite spring - not quite summer' temperature and I'd often go to bed snuggled up in my duvet only to wake on a hot spring morning with it on the floor. This was one of those mornings.

I must have been tired -- it had a been a long day; even though I had gently stroked myself before bed I hadn't gone all the way to orgasm. My body clock had me stirring at my usual 'work o'clock' time, but the idea that I could lay in bed and listen to the 'Today' programme in its entirety then wander down and make breakfast for me and Tim in my own time in my own kitchen had me sinking back into my excellent mattress.

I put my hand to my short brown crop of pubic hair and gently raked my nails through it; I heard a strangled gasp. I opened my eyes wide in shock

Tim was stood at the end of my bed in just his striped pyjama trousers with a mug of tea staring down at me, the tent at his groin obvious. I made to sit up, reaching round for the duvet which was out of reach and my night dress and shorts where I'd left them on my ottoman.

"Tim," I said, putting an arm across my breasts just to cover my nipples, "sorry Lovey, I'm used to sleeping in the raw sometimes, I forgot sorry." I drew my knees up and let my other arm fall between my legs.

"N...no," he stuttered, "I should have knocked, I'm sorry," he looked desperately distressed, and made to step back.

"TIM!" I called at the closing door, he pushed it open slightly without looking at me, "Tim, come back, it's OK," he raised his eyes a bit at a time until he was looking at me, "come this way and bring your tea as well," I rolled across the bed and grabbed my duvet, slowly I might add, and made a great display of my arse.

I slid to one side of the bed and pulled the duvet up and across my boobs, and took my tea from him with a big smile and patted the bed next to me. 

He smiled at sat down, and I threw the rest of my king size duvet over his legs. I sipped my tea and sat further up, conscious of the cleavage I'd created, 

"I don't know why you worry Tim, we have shared a bath together before,"

"Yes, well," he breathed sipping his own tea, "It's not like I've seen you like that in quite a few years," he had a hint of nerves in his voice.

I paused.

"Yes you have..." I said, taking a welcome sip from my cup.

"W...what," he stuttered again, "What do you mean?"

"It means that you've walked in on me semi-naked before at Mum's. It also means that I know all about your spy-hole into the shower," I didn't look at his face but knew by his chin dropping that he was worried. I turned, "But don't worry Tim, I walked in on you one morning while you were asleep, and I'VE watched YOU through the spy hole, well I've watched that huge prick of yours while you wanked it and called my name," he turned to look back at me now, "and I wanked watching you -- there, that's only fair isn't it?"

The look on his face was priceless; "Err... I suppose so," he said.

"And I know what you did with my panties," I said matter of factly, for once I used the sexier parlance for them rather than 'knickers' as I would have done, "In fact I left you a few extra pairs of nice ones so it was less bother for Mum to wash them." 

His face had a kind of slightly nervous drag to it and not the 'dream come true' aspect I'd been hoping for, "I'm assuming she knew? I kind of get the feeling she knew about lots of things and might have encouraged you."

"You can't blame Mum," he said with a real scared look on his face, "She didn't mean anything, it was just because she was worried about me," he gabbled, "I never..." he gasped, "I never..."

"Hey Tim," I turned to face him letting the duvet fall from my boobs to put a hand to his face to ease his panic, "don't worry lovey, it's OK, they were only knickers, it's just wanking, everyone does it mate!"

"Yes," he gasped, "yes, only knickers, just wanking."

His breathing eased but he still kept his hunted look.

"Tim," I said, forgetting my nakedness and his closeness, "What's the matter?"

"Mum..." he said, "she, that is we..." his eyes brimmed with tears.

"OK," I said calmly as if dealing with a hysterical child, "deep breaths," his breathing calmed, "close your eyes, start at the beginning..."

Tim's late entry into puberty meant that I was already a blossoming eighteen year old as his testosterone started work on his immature brain. His late development had resulted in some fearsome bullying, then as he grew, and grew, and GREW, the teasing became of a different nature. He had told Mum about the first teasing and she had just told him to basically 'man up' to his bullies -- an easy thing to say when it isn't you being bullied. 

The second round was of a different nature and his first try talking to Mum had convinced him not to do it again. In search of solace he resorted to masturbation. Not having the nerve to try to find any porn, or try to conceal anything at home, he had one day chanced upon seeing me through a crack in the bathroom door. 

I was just dressing and must have been checking for spots in the mirror and leaned forward into view, I had only put on my knickers and he saw my young and firm arse wrapped in thin cotton, and pert boobs reflected in the mirror. He almost came in his pants.

The image had stuck in his head and by closing his eyes he got all the porn he needed. Two days later when he took his clothes to the utility room, he saw the panties I'd been wearing and picked them up, inspecting every ripple, ridge and mark, especially the marks. He stuffed them in his pocket, ran to his room and locked the door and stripped, flopping on his bed and rubbing the gusset of my panties over his sensitive knob. He finally rubbed the white mark left by my puss across his moist penile opening and the sensitive patch beneath until he came in gouts, catching the come in my pants. 

This became a regular almost daily event in his life, and he'd stroll down to the utility room and search for my worn knickers, wrap the worn gusset around his bell end and masturbate. He admitted that on one particular night, he'd waited for me to take my clothes downstairs and he'd jumped straight into the laundry room and pulled out my just worn pants still warm and with the damp patch actually DAMP. He'd withdrawn his penis in that room and wiped my wetness over his knob, groaning. He then ran to his bedroom and did his usual thing, coming in them.

This was about the time I left for college, and he was temporarily left without his supply of worn knickers. So had to resort to raiding my empty bedroom and taking out clean knickers, wanking in them but trying not to come in them, instead ejaculating into toilet tissue so not as to have my underwear turning up in the laundry when I was hundreds of miles away in London.

Eventually Mum found a pair under his pillow, and confronted him. It seemed that her biggest fear was that he was wearing them.

He broke down and admitted that this was the way he had got through his bullying at school. She had demanded to know what bullying. He could not lie to Mum and said it was because his penis was so big.

"Big?" she had said, and demanded to know what was so big about it. Immature as he was, he simply reached into his pants and had unfolded his long tube of skin. Her jaw dropped, and for once in her life she was lost for words.

She reached out and touched it, as if she needed to prove to herself that it was real. She squeezed it and it bulged in her fingers, next she raised it and pointed it at her. As if realising the amount of attention she was paying to her son's penis, she dropped it and stuttered that far from being embarrassed he should be proud of such a weapon and it was going to make him a really popular boy.

Then, she said that with a penis that big he probably needed to 'air it' more than he did, and if he wanted to, he could walk around the house without trousers and pants if he wanted to, but not with me around as that wasn't right. He demurred, but after a few days or her nagging, he finally agreed that he would walk around the house with his flaccid penis out in the air, for his own good of course.

The inevitable happened. One Saturday evening, he'd been dozing on the sofa and his penis erected of its own accord, in that way that young men's penises often do. 

He awoke and probably didn't realise what had happened. Matter of factly Mum had asked him if it was painful, and he said it was OK and tried to make it go down.

"That looks nasty," she said playing the concerned mother and went and sat on the sofa next to him wrapping her hand round the centre of his penis and began to masturbate him. His discomfort soon dissipated as his pleasure increased.

"Come on then Tim, do what you've got to do, the faster you get this done, the better you'll feel." Her straightforward approach and the suggestion this was for his own good, did for any discomfort he might have felt at his mother wanking him and he came, spraying a white stream of his semen out and across the room to splash on the carpet in front of him, the second spurt shooting out but not so far landing on the leatherette sofa while the final dribbles splashed down onto his groin and her hand. She had disappeared and returned with kitchen towels and did her best to remove the evidence -- and of course being Mum it was more about the carpet and sofa than Tim or her hand. She said that he wasn't to worry, and that amount of come was just an indication of how virile he was. She said that next time he had a problem like that she'd still help him out but would find some other way of stopping his sperm spraying everywhere.

A few days later he called Mum to his room and said his cock was aching and could she help him with it.

With a great show of maternal 'oh alright then,' she bade him sit lay back on his bed, then proceeded to masturbate him, varying her speed and pitch to help him to his orgasm. Finding her ideal hand position and stroke she soon had him crying out and pumping his sperm out high into the air to splatter down on his chest, her arm, some even going high enough to land on the top of her head as she lent in to examine her handiwork. It rolled down the side of her face. She went to the bathroom and wiped her face and returned with a flannel and cleaned the come off of Tim's belly, chest, penis and the drips that had rolled onto the bed.

Again, the next night he complained that his penis ached again, and he was worried because he had a major college exam the next week. She told him to go to her bedroom and lay on the bed and she'd come in in a moment. 

She returned in her nightdress, and sat by him, an elastic bandage round her wrist. 

"OK," she said, "how are we going to do this without getting your sperm everywhere?" She'd said.

"Well," he'd said, "perhaps I should come into something," he'd said.

He described the pause -- it was obvious that she was thinking about her body rather than the cloth or toilet roll he was thinking about. 

"Well," she said, "my arm aches from all of this extra exercise, I suppose you could do it yourself."

He didn't even try to hide his disappointment. "Oh alright," she had complained, you can put it in me but you CAN'T COME IN ME, understand?"

"Why?"

"Because I could get pregnant and that's against the law. You putting your cock in me would be but because it's medicinal it's OK."

"OK Mum," he'd said.

"When you are ready to come you pull out and come, on me but DEFINITELY NOT IN ME!" she admonished.

"OK Mum," he said.

He described how she'd wrapped her nightdress tight to her and laid the towel across her lower back and the base of her spine just exposing her bottom, thighs and the crack of her vagina to him. She explained what he needed to do, and reached down between her legs to grab hold of his penis and almost drag it towards her pussy.

She was so wet and he was so hard that the first thrust went home straight away. He pushed all the way in and he described how Mum had gasped and he'd withdrawn straight away. I could only guess how it must have felt -- as he spoke I could see his penis pushing hard against the thin cotton of his PJ's and it must have reached deep into her and hit all those places that penises don't normally reach.

She told him it was OK and he could push back in. He pushed in and stopped, unsure of what he had to do next. She told him breathlessly to push in and out until he felt he was ready to come, then he should pull out and, well, do what he had to outside.

He did so, gently at first, the sensations in his penis too much to stand for very long. He stopped and pulled out, telling her that he'd almost come.

She told him to be careful and only to put it back in if he was sure he wouldn't come in her. He calmed, slipped back into her sopping pussy, thrust a few times then pulled it out and shot his come onto towel along her back some of it hitting her bare arse. 




The Really Complicated Family Ch. 02



They sat on her bed and he discussed how nice it had been but how it had finished too quickly for him to appreciate it. She said that perhaps they could do it again later.

For her, later meant in a few days. For him, he came back in half an hour later, his erection raging and being his mother's son was able to nag her onto her hands and knees and fucked her again, gaining confidence with each thrust lasting twice as long as the time before. Such was his gusto, the still damp towel had slipped off of her back and her nightdress had ridden up. 

This time he sprayed his depleted load across her bottom and up her back reaching almost to her shoulders. She collapsed on her bed sated. Tim knew nothing of the female orgasm, and wouldn't have recognised it if Mum had indeed had one. I guessed she probably had.

So 'cock time' was born; once or twice a week, he'd go into her bedroom and she'd roll onto her hands and knees and pull her nightdress up so he could 'masturbate using her vagina' then come onto her pale skin. The rest of the week he had my freshly laundered pants to come into.

With practice he'd managed to last some considerable time before shooting his load on her bottom, thighs and back. She must have appreciated his attentions as she seemed never to turn him down. As the years passed lubricant was introduced as her body clock took its toll. She told him that I could not know about it; it probably meant that there would be no 'cock time' when I was at home. He'd already told her about how he'd caught a glimpse of me in the bathroom, and he said how he'd enjoyed wanking at my memory. 

Well, she said, why not take the opportunity of finding a way of making a better view point so he could always see 'whoever was in the shower'. More 'green eyed monster' from Mum.

So the hole was prepared, cut, waterproofed and a small stopper made to prevent drafts and steam escaping.

His letching of me began for real then. I now realised why I was made to feel so unwelcome when I got home for my holidays. While Tim liked looking at my pussy and arse, it was nothing compared to his two or three times a week 'cock time' with Mum. I also realised why Mum had so taken against me when she heard me suggesting Tim came and lived with me, it was straight up girlish jealously. It also explained why he was 'technically' a virgin, he'd never actually come IN someone.

Sitting naked on my bed occasionally looking at the shape of his fantastic cock just through his PJ's, I couldn't bring myself to condemn Mum for her taking advantage of her own son.

"Well," I said, "seeing as we are sat virtually naked anyway," I pushed the duvet down with my feet and lay back, my hands to my sides.

"Wow Lainey!" he said, "You're beautiful; this morning was the first time I've ever seen you, like all of you, your body is just... well..." I giggled, Ok he was my brother but I still love compliments like any girl.

"I can see you like it," I said, "seeing as you've seen all of me, I reckon it's only fair that you take your trousers off I can see all of you."

He nodded, and slid down the bed slightly to enable him get to the waist band of his PJ's. In no time his legs were up and he was sliding them off, kicking them to the side I finally got to see his penis in its full and angry glory. It looked perfect and he lay down allowing his jutting cock to stand out from him.

I felt my hands drawn to it in the same way that Mum must have done. I had never seen anything like it, ever. I had some sexy story books but they had no pictures, and this was a real education.

He put his hand on it which only threw its size into more relief. I felt so amazingly horny but felt that what was going on was enough and already way too complicated.

"Tim," I said, "I can't give you cock time like Mum does..."

"Did," he said, "we haven't done it for a few years now, I've just had... you - to look at I mean."

"OK then, seeing as you watch me while I wank in the shower and I watch you, surely there's nothing to stop as doing it now is there?"

Tim must have seen the opportunity opening out before him.

"OK," he said, "how are we going to do this?" I slid down the bed and rolled onto one side facing him, and he did the same.

He started to pull his foreskin up and down, and I began to rub across my enlarged clit and pussy, lifting my leg so he could see what I was doing down there. We both started to gasp, smiling at each other and this new game.

"Tim," I panted, "I once heard you say you wanted to squeeze my tits and come on my arse," I gasped, "want to do it now?"

"Oh God, Lainey," he gasped rolling closer to me to thrust his spare hand at my chest and grab at my tits, before pushing his groin at me as he went into orgasm. I guessed what my suggestion had caused in him and quickly rolled flat on my front pinning his left arm under me and bringing my arse in contact with his spurting cock. For the first time I felt my brothers come splash against my bare skin and it kept coming, just requiring the occasional slow pump on his cock from him, its warm wetness splashing on my arse, and my back.

Feeling his left hand grabbing my tits under me and his wet penis, his strong hand and his come all touching my arse, my right hand strummed hard at my clit and I came gasping, smiling, eventually looking straight into Tim's smiling face as I came down.

"Wow, Lainey," he said, "Did you come?"

"Of course I did," I said, "It was very sexy and very nice."

"So would you like to do it again sometime?" 

Conscious that he had once said this same thing to Mum, I said that we could but I wanted some breakfast first.

Tim, deprived of physical sexual contact for some time, allowed me my breakfast. Dressed in just my towelling dressing gown, I stood to put the breakfast things in sink for washing up and Tim playfully tackled me, pinning me to the counter at the same time pulling up my gown to expose my bottom. 

I had been taken by a couple of boyfriends like this before and had greatly enjoyed it, but then I was on the pill and it wasn't my brother.

"Tim," I said feeling his cock pushing against the bare cheeks of my arse, "Go easy, remember what I said," the next thing I knew was his left hand in the middle of my back pushing me flat on the worktop and holding me down, and his hand pumping and the end of his cock brushing against my bum.

I managed to squeeze a hand between the worktop and my body and reached my puss, stroking my clit fiercely and trying to match Tim's strokes. The contact was so rude, lewd and sexy I felt that my orgasm was almost there, but I wanted to come with Tim, I wanted to feel his sperm splash over my bottom and up my back, just as my Mum had first done ten or so years ago.

"Come on Tim," I panted, "I'm nearly there, let's do it together,"

"Oh Lainey," he gasped, "I'm ready, tell me when you're coming,"

"Oh," I gasped as my uterus contracted and expanded, "Fuck! Tim, now! I'm coming! Oh God, I'm coming!"

"Uuuurrrgh!!" he roared pushing his thighs and his balls against my arse as he spurted his semen across my back, trapping my hand against the kitchen unit but my busy finger had done it's work.

"My arse Tim," I cried out, still strumming hard at my clit and puss, "come on my arse." I gritted my teeth as I pushed through the agonised ecstasy.

"Oooh yeah," and as he pulled back I felt the burning heat of his orgasm splash against my arse cheeks. He moved back from me still stroking through the last of his orgasm and I slumped on the worktop giggling, putting a hand to my arse and touching Tim's come. I crooned feeling his hot, slimy wetness and rubbing it into my bottom with my fingers.

"That was lovely Tim," I said, "here, come and feel." I rested my head on one hand touching my arse with the other.

"Can I?" he said, his face beaming.

"Tim, you've just pinned me down, dragged my gown up and wanked over my arse, why do you think I wouldn't let you touch my bum?" I shrugged off my gown.

"I was never allowed to touch Mum," he said thoughtfully.

"Well," I said standing up and feeling Tim's come run from my back to tickle and trickle down into the cleft of my arse stopping at my anus, "Make some more tea and come to my room for your first sex education lesson!" 

I went to the bathroom and grabbed some tissue; as Mum had once said Tim was probably extremely virile and fertile and the last thing I wanted was his come running into my pussy and an unexpected surprise nine months later!

I lay naked on my bed and he came in a few moments later, his well exercised penis swinging like an elephant's trunk.

That whole afternoon we lay on my bed naked and playing with each other. It seemed that other than being wanked by Mum or fucking her he'd never been allowed to touch her with anything other than his penis, so when I let him touch me all over it was a complete first for him. 

He was amazingly gentle and for three hours he touched my boobs, squeezed them, groping with just gentle nudges from me as to what I liked. He squeezed my nipples, making them harden more than they were.

After that I let him rub and stroke my thighs prior to lying between them and scrutinising my pussy closer than it ever had been before, closer even than the lovely Debs once had.

He so very gently parted my lips, looking at what lay between. He'd studied biology at A level and, quite sweetly I thought, started naming the various bits he came across, while I just lay and let him, getting wetter and more swollen as he did so. 

"Lainey," he said, as I felt his warm breath on my vulva, "can I put a finger inside?"

"Yes," I said, "feel free... oooooooh!" I crooned feeling his long digit rub around inside me. I talked him around my soft swollen pussy, and he found my cervix and strummed the sensitive skin around that making me almost vibrate with the intensity of his massage. Finally I talked him down to my G-spot and on instruction he scrubbed that with gusto,

"Oh Tim," I gasped, feeling my first orgasm with a man in at least three years, "keeping going Darling," I hissed, "right there, aaaaaaaawwww Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!" I gasped feeling my orgasm start in my boots and finish in the pit of my stomach. 

"Wow Lainey," he said easing the scrub, "yo're peeing yourself..."

"Don't... worry..." I panted, "Perfectly normal," I added through gritted teeth.

Finally, I felt his fingers strum my clitty, and there, laying in my own bed with my own brother with his face so close to my cunt I could feel his breath, I reached my first ever multiple orgasm. Even Debs gave up at one.

Tim was so impressed with his handiwork that he kept going, seconds, minutes, hours I couldn't tell but after a while it became too much and I pushed his hand away and collapsed back to recover. 

Beaming like a Cheshire cat he lay next to me, his hands folded across his chest, every now and again surreptitiously sniffing his pussy wet fingers.

I must have nodded off, as a few minutes later he put hands on my tits again, probably with a view to starting over.

"No," I said gently pushing his hand away, "I'll get sore and you won't be able to do it for a while, lay back," I said, "now it's your turn." His hard cock stuck out so long and so hard, it was all I could do not to throw myself at it, or on to it rather. 

I reached out and touched it for the first time, it was like iron, and not for the first time I wondered how it would feel inside me, thrusting in and out of me piston-like while I lay beneath him letting him use me. Just how must it have felt for Mum, I thought, being on your hands and knees with a monster like this pumping in and out touching everything...

"Lainey?" Tim said, "you OK?"

"Yes," I said shaking the thought of him taking me from behind out of my head, "just imagining what it's like having this inside me."

"You can if..."

"No," I crooned idly wanking his cock slowly at first, "I'm not ready for kids yet thanks Tim."

"OK," he smiled, closing his eyes and allowing himself to go with the feeling.

In my few long term relationships I'd really enjoyed oral sex especially 'sixty nine'. The mutual intimacy you can only find when you have your mouth on your lover's sex while they do the same to you. I'd done the same thing with Debs but as she was shorter than me it wasn't as comfy and I had to lay on the bottom and prop my head on pillows, and I always preferred being on the top.

I wanted to suck Tim, but knew once he'd tried that he'd never go for simple masturbation like this again. I'd save it for a special occasion, once he'd sucked me for instance, then I'd introduce him to my favourite precursor to the real deal.

I lay on my side propped on an elbow, stroking his hard, huge member gently, wanting him to enjoy the feeling, trailing my hand over his helmet as one of my former boyfriends had once shown me. I knew that I could keep him going with this slow hand, but also knew that he'd get frustrated. I wanted him to build up some steam; more than that I wanted to see how much come actually poured out of this monster. He didn't disappoint.

I began to pump him at speed now and he opened his eyes looking at my large boobs bouncing so close to his hands. He reached out and grabbed a nipple and pinched. Oww! My nips are always sensitive -- more so when I'm lying naked next to someone who's spent the afternoon making me come!

He stroked and cupped my boobs, pinching my hard nipples as I wanked him. I noticed that my gasps and giggles made him strain into my pumping hand, and I knew he was nearly there.

"OK Tim, you're nearly there," I said, slowing right down, "I want you to come on my tits."

"Oh yeah," he gasped, I stopped wanking him just in case he spurted with the thought.

"Kneel between my legs," I rolled onto my back pulling my knees up as high as I could get them, and Tim quickly knelt, his huge cock pointing at me dangerously. Tim put both hands on the headboard of the bed, his face red with the strain, but his penis at a perfect angle to spray all over my breasts. 

I started to wank him, again, knowing my words would help him along the way.

"Come on Tim," I gasped, "come for me, spray your jizz over my big boobs like you've always wanted to you dirty big boy!"

"OH FUCK!" he gasped, "LAINEY! OH LAINEY, aaaaah shiiiiiiiit..." his teeth gritted and eyes closed and I felt his cock swell for the big moment, and I grinned and pumped him hard.

"Oh yea..." I had opened my mouth to exclaim and continue my dirty talk, but Tim's body had the last laugh. As I'd opened my mouth Tim had pushed his penis forward and the slight change in angle sent his first bolt of semen straight into my open mouth and onto my tongue, I gasped and gagged slightly, closing my mouth instinctively but still tasting his salty gift, something Mum had never done. His second bolt sprayed onto my chin, cheek and neck, but as he relaxed into it I pulled his cock down slightly and felt his wet heat splash across my tits as I'd intended originally. I looked at the snakes eye on his helmet and watched as it opened and closed with his pleasure.

"Aaaaahahaha," he part gasped, part giggled finally opening his eyes and looking down as he final few spurts dribbled out of my boobs, "Oh wow, Lainey, that was great," I smiled and dragged his cock across my flesh, squeezing out the last drops and using the head to spread his essence across my chest especially my nipples.

"Look at all your come Tim," I said, gently rubbing him through the last of his spasms and looking down at the pools of his semen running down my boobs and starting to trickle down my sides. Tim relaxed and sat back on his haunches, his still stiff penis standing out and a final few trickles of white running down it. He had come loads, it was more than your average 10cc's that most men produce, and looking at his elephantine testicles gently hanging between his legs I could see why.

I reached down and held his hands, it had been a wonderful afternoon's work and we had both enjoyed ourselves immensely and I wanted it to end in a cuddle, I am a woman after all. So I gently pulled his hands so he would lie on top of me squishing his come between us. 

Surprisingly he didn't so much as comment on the wet warm lubrication between us, instead choosing to use it rub his sparse chest hair against my tits.

With him lying on my chest he looked directly into my face, "Oh I splashed some on your face, wow,"

"Yeah, you got some in my mouth as well," I said, his face inches from mine as he relaxed more of his insubstantial weight onto me, "Here, you can taste..." with one gently hand on the back of his head I pulled his mouth down onto mine.

It was obvious he'd never French kissed anyone before but he got the message pretty quick and soon I was snogging my brother, his come now covering both him and me, and over both of our faces as we rolled and writhed across my bed. 

Clutching him with my thighs it seemed the most natural thing in the world and I could so easily have taken his semi soft member that was now rubbing against my clit, and slipped it up into my sopping pussy, but it was already way more complicated than I ever thought it would be.

When I woke an hour later it was to Tim standing above me still naked, his chest hair matted against his skin with his own come, grinning widely with a mug of tea.

We showered together, laughing and joking in a way we probably hadn't since puberty. My bathroom had large bath with shower rather than one of those skinny little cubicles of those days, and we used all of it. We dressed and went out to the local Indian restaurant and had a curry and a few beers, walking back to my place hand in hand. It was our first date.

We slept together, I mean just 'slept', I wore a nightdress and he his PJ trousers; we woke the next morning at the same time, him with a raging erection. I started to get some idea of how he must have badgered Mum, as he began to nag me to wank him. Laughing together I tried to put him off in the way that women have for thousands of years. 

I whined, complained that he only wanted me for sex and generally tried to put him off. I had every intention of letting him of course, but my poor puss was still a bit sore from his ministrations of the previous afternoon's sex ed 101.

"That's it Lainey," he said adopting an aloof stance but still laughing, "if you won't do as you're told..." 

Next thing I knew I was flipped onto my front, my nightdress raised, and I was manhandled on to my hands and knees and felt his left arm in the small of my back to hold me, then felt him rest his stiff penis in the crack of my arse, and it was such a turn on.

"Lainey," he gasped quickly, "can I put it in -- just once, just put it in, I won't slide it around, I won't come in you honest, I'm really good at holding ba..."

"No!" I burst out, then calmed, "No lovey, it's too risky. Chances are when you did it with Mum she wasn't able to have kids anymore; it's not that I don't..." my voice petered out, "You can carry on doing what you're doing though, that's OK."

"Hmmmm," he crooned, and pretty soon I felt his usual bucket of hot come splash across my arse and lower back, as I secretly played with my clitoris, joining him in a speedy orgasm a few seconds after his.

We showered together again, soaping each other intimately and playfully at the same time, Tim going so far as to bend me over to take my washcloth and scrub all around my pussy and arse --it was real sexy and kind of turned me on as his taking control that morning did. As I dried myself I looked at my bathroom cabinet and fixed on idea that had been forming in my mind since the night before when we lay together kissing.

We spent the next day visiting Uncle Dan and Tim finally got the meet the rest of his family. He took to Dan and to Trish straight away and chatted about his life, and finally thanked them for the model railway stuff and the Christmas and birthday presents. 




The Really Complicated Family Ch. 02



Dan had aged well, was about to retire as a detective chief inspector and had obviously left his bitterness behind him, at least for that afternoon. Dan and Trish took us out to dinner and Tim was presented with his little green bank book that now held the grand total of £97,000. He was stunned to silence so I proposed a toast to Dad, Nanny B and Uncle Dan.

We returned to my place in high spirits. Tim, unused to alcohol as he was, was put to bed in the spare room, taking him a cup of tea the next morning. Tim had just enough of a hangover to introduce him to the concept, and keep a handle on his ardour. 

Later that afternoon, I drove him back to Manchester and we both went to see Mum and Auntie Ronnie at the hospital, "Did you look after him?" Admonished Mum.

"Yes, of course I did," I said, grinning sideways at Tim. I drove him home, helped him make up a bed for Mum in the front room, and with a final snogging session on the sofa (yes, I did give him a wank -- into a pair of my knickers) I promised I'd be back in a month.

I timed my return for five weeks so I could be there for Tim's birthday on the Friday. I had put his card in the post, two in fact; the first a funny jokey one from me, the other slightly more sexy and marked with just a single kiss and a promise of a special present -- tucked inside was an empty foil strip pack with 21 empty slots marked with the days of the week. I hoped he'd understand the imagery. 



The Really Complicated Family Ch. 03



Here's part three, sorry it's taken so long to get to the dirty stuff but hopefully it'll be worth in the end. Mind you, I've no idea where the end is yet. 

*

I drove back to Manchester with a real feeling of trepidation. My hidden message to Tim, if he read it right, basically told him he was going to lose his 'technical virgin' status to me at some stage over that weekend.

I'd known that I would do the deed with him, if I was honest, right back when I'd walked in on his naked body and had my first glimpse of that huge cock of his. Love her or hate her, Mum had known a good thing when she saw it and I had to agree that I wanted some of it. 

I wasn't in love, I didn't want his babies, but I knew that I needed that huge cock in me and, like the idea of making love to little Debs after my first glimpse of her crotch, it had taken up quite a bit of my fantasy time in my big bed.

I had lain on my bed with my vibrator trying to get an idea of what his penis would feel like in me, and I tried to remember how big it was. In the grocers I found myself looking at the cucumbers and trying to guess which was the nearest and did I have the nuts to buy one, take it home and wash it prior to squeezing the thing into my pussy.

I did buy one of course, even going so far as to buy tomatoes, lettuce and other salad stuff just so the smiling lady behind the counter wouldn't think I was buying it for any other reason than a nice salad.

I got it home, washed it, dried it carefully and took it to my bedroom. I took a shower and washed and dried me, even adding a little perfume to my neck and lay on my bed staring at it for a full ten minutes before I decided what I was going to do with it. 

I put my clothes back on, went down to the kitchen and made a huge Greek salad -- if I was going to have something that big in me it was going to warm and attached to a man that would force it in and out of me in until he came at the same time as me. Tim was gaging for it, so was I, we'd pretty much done everything but, and... hell, what was the worst that could happen.

So I went to my Doctor, and asked to go on the pill. I'd been with his practice for years and he asked me if I was in a relationship and what other precautions was I taking; AIDS was being taken seriously by that time. I said that it was part of a committed relationship with someone that I trusted and knew his sexual history. The doctor smiled, took my blood pressure and wrote me a prescription there and then. 

As if by magic my period started two days later and I took the first pill as instructed and that was that. I had finished the first pack, gone through the withdrawal bleed and started the second pack. According to the doctor and medical science I was ready -- ready to fuck, to fuck Tim, to fuck my little brother.

But the preparations though; Every now and again, I'd take a Saturday with my last remaining batchelorette mates and we'd do the town centre, have lunch in the department store, look at shoes and get all girly. 

On this particular day, there was a wedding event on and I noticed the white underwear looking sweet, sexy and just virginal enough to make it a bit exciting. We all had a bit of a chuckle at the basque's, the teddies, the babydolls and various other conglomerations of silk, satin and lace that could be put together for the discerning bride to be, and the pleasure of her husband.

While we giggled, there is that bit in every woman that wants to be a bride and have all of that and our joking wasn't the way it would have been perhaps teen years previously when we were in our late teens and very early twenties. I did pine for what might have been when I passed wedding dress hire shops, but was enough of a realist not to pine too much.

The idea of that sexy underwear, and the concept of that all-important first night of love stuck in my mind for the rest of the day. Saying a fond farewell to my girls and a little before five o'clock, a calmly walked back towards the department store as I said I had some groceries I wanted to buy in the supermarket. Once out of site I dashed towards the department store, one of those old fashioned oak and walnut clad ones that you just knew would have the ladies stood at the door at 5.28 with the key ready to lock up until Monday morning -- no Sunday trading for those places,not in those days.

I made it with fifteen minutes to spare and spent a lazy ten of them walking around the almost deserted lingerie department selecting a few different looks, that I hoped would set the scene for Tim and make losing his virginity a bit more special; OK, now I'm happy to admit that it was for me as well. 

The next week I booked an appointment to get my hair done on the Friday afternoon of my next visit.

So it was with some real sense of trepidation that I slipped my door key into the lock of Mum and Tim's place and opened the door. 

"I'm here!" I called out to the house.

Tim was there in seconds; with a huge smile and a peck on the cheek for me, something we'd never done before. I could see a change in him. Gone were the long sleeve shirt and flannel trousers, he wore jeans, probably for the first time in his life, a Fred Perry T-shirt and, amazingly of all, trainers. Not only had his hair been cut, it had been styled, and no glasses -- his absence of squinting telling me straight away he'd gone for contact lenses like I had.

He took my hand and led me into the front room, no longer a hallowed locked-door mystery but a downstairs bedroom for Mum until she was well enough and recovered from her hip replacement to venture upstairs. She smiled at me and I kissed her proffered cheek.

"I'll get some tea Mum," he said. Again, this was a change; up until a few months ago, this would have been 'SHALL I get some tea Mum'. She nodded, and indicated I should sit in the high backed day chair that had obviously been supplied for Mum when she wanted to get out of bed.

She told me of her operation, her recovery, coming home in the ambulance, being carried in by the big ambulance men and how she reckoned she'd not be able to manage being upstairs for quite a while yet. This was typical Mum -- she loved attention, and the thought that she had to be waited on and have all sorts of special measures in place for her would have absolutely made her year.

Tim came in with a tray and three mugs, and a packet of chocolate biscuits -- another first, biscuits being served on a weekday, chocolate, I looked around to see if royalty were due. After we chatted for a while, Tim said he'd take my bag up declaring that I was to sleep in his room and he would be in Mum's. I could see that Mum had a bit of an issue with that but all the time she wanted to maintain her illness privileges she couldn't make too much complaint.

Following him up the stairs, I noticed that the colour scheme had changed -- everything had changed. Gone was the heavy utility furniture that we'd had all of the years of my growing up, and those miserably, grotty greens, browns and creams that had been 'landlords colours' and what I had been used to until I bought my own house.

The upstairs hall was bright and airy and yellow! Walking into his bedroom I was stunned, the miserable brown embossed wall paper and yellowing white gloss had been replaced. The walls were light blue, the gloss was painted a bright, flst, matt white and the faded nets and dark curtains had been replaced. His room was like a bright oasis.

Spell bound I walked around his room grinning, stopping to touch the small television he'd installed. "I haven't told Mum," he said, "I'm not sure she'd be impressed with a second TV!"

"Wow Tim, I like the new look," I said, walking closer to him, "and I like the new Tim." I whispered touching his cheek.

"I missed you Lainey," he said with a silly smile.

"No you didn't," I giggled, "You missed my body and what I let you do to it."

"Yeah, well there could be a bit of that to it as well." He looked at the floor, "I got your card," he said.

I grinned and bit my bottom lip, "Really," I said grining.

"Really," he replied with a new confidence I was just getting used to, "both of them in fact. I'm hoping the present you put in for me is what I think it is."

"Depends on what you think it is Tim," I said lifting my bag onto his new double bed, which was arranged with a duvet rather than the blankets, eiderdown and coverlets we'd always used.

"I THINK," he said, "it's a packet for contraceptive pills." Then it struck me that he'd probably never seen one or had the kind of conversation that would enable him to find out about them.

"You are right Tim," I said, "it was the packet for contraceptive pills, I'm now on my second packet by the way,"

"So," he said with a faint gulp, "so we... we can err..."

I patted his cheek with my hand, "Yes Tim," I whispered, "we most certainly can, and you know what, I want to do it in here, in your room. I want your cherry Tim."

"It's all yours Lainey," he said with a faint tremble to his voice. Moving closer to each other our lips were just about to meet when Mum shouted from downstairs that she wanted to use the commode. We laughed, squeezed each-others hand and walked downstairs to help Mum.

We sat in her room until she started to nod off, and switching off her light and kissing her goodnight, we left her room switching off the the other house lights as we went. 

At the top of the stairs Tim whispered, with a hint of a nervous gulp that I could use the bathroom first.

"Oh no," I said, "you go first, I absolutely insist."

"Well," he began, "I have some things I want to get sorted,"

"So have I," I said thinking of my bag and what it promised.

"OK then," he said in a voice I had rarely heard, "You go into the bathroom, do what you have to while I wait in Mum's room. Once you have finished you go into my room and knock the door, I count to ten then go into the bathroom after you."

I wasn't having that -- after all I had gone to an awful lot of trouble for this night, more so than any other man I could think off, more so than losing my own virginity, which had been one Friday night after a great night in the student union bar with my first proper boyfriend. 

We were both living in halls of residence and the comings and goings of men and women students ignored pretty much. We'd been going out for a few weeks and were only seeing each other.

We'd sailed across the dance floor until our lust, kissing, caressing and doing everything we could legally get away with, with the lights down. 

"I want you Elaine," gasped Peter my boyfriend.

"I want you Pete," I gasped breathlessly into his ear, "let's go..."

We went back to my place, a single room off of a large corridor, struggling with our ardour and the door keys until we were in, falling onto the single bed and then struggling to get out of our clothes and stay in the mood.

Eventually Pete rolled on top of me and gently eased his penis towards my wet vagina. 

"Pete," I hissed, "I'm a virgin, please be careful..."

Hearing this he got all manly and considerate. He was so gentle and sweet it kind of spoiled it a bit for me. I wanted fucking, while he just wanted to know how much it hurt when he pushed his erection in. It didn't.

Upon reflection, I realised that my years of being a gymnast at school had probably shredded my hymen years before, and he seemed a little disappointed that I didn't gasp like a Mills and Boon Victorian maiden when he sank into me.

Don't get me wrong, it was very nice but Pete was newish to intercourse in the same way that I was and fully expected tears, and for his penis to taste blood. I didn't and it didn't -- we had a really nice fuck, and he stayed the night. We repeated the whole project the next morning and in the day light it was even more fun, for me being able to watch what was going on and we experimented with some more positions over and above the usual missionary we had tried the night before. I still remember him getting me to rest on my hands and knees for the very first time, and the delight, almost abandon of sitting facing away from my lover with my pussy and bottom on display to him. So much so that first time doggie still made up part of an occasional masturbation fantasy of mine.

But now, all those years later here I was in the bathroom of my old family home, redecorated as it was, ready to do pretty much the same thing. I was so excited I was almost buzzing. The night before I'd sat in my bath with a razor and gently scrapped away at the sides of my bush leaving just a heart shape brown patch -- something I'd read about in Cosmo and always fancied doing. I cleaned my teeth, took my borth control pill, sprayed myself with my favourite body spray, did my makeup, applied lipstick before one last spray of perfume. This done, I slipped into my silk negligee, matching panties and stepped out into the hall knocking on the door as promised. 

But I didn't go into his room as planned; I stood inside my old room still full of his model railway, and listened. I heard the chink of glasses knocking together and guessed he had got some wine. I heard him open his bedroom door and walk in. I gave him long enough to put down his tray. After all I didn't want him to drop it when he saw me!

I tucked my hair back behind my ear and slowly walked to his room, than tapped lightly on his door.

"Are you ready for me Tim?" I said at the door.

"Yes Elaine, in you come..."

I swung the door open and slid through, pleased to find that the room was lit with bedside lamps. I looked across to where he sat on his bed, resplendent in black silk boxer shorts and his body looking fantastic! I don't know if he'd been working out or whether it was just all of the decorating and furniture moving he'd doing, or if it was just the fact that I fancied the shit out of him and wanted a good fucking. 

Whatever it was he had a huge smile for me, so I stalked across the room slowly allowing him to take me all in. Stopping at the foot of the bed I gave him a twirl causing the negligee to swirl out slightly. It was pale pink, drawn tight under my tits giving enough cleavage to make it interesting and swirling enough at my hips to expose the matching string that I bought to go with it.

"Wow, Lainey!" he said, "you look... you look fucking gorgeous!"

I blushed and smiled, 

"You don't look so bad yourself Tim," I said, stepping forward. He reached across to a bedside table and lifted a glass for me. One look told me it was champagne. On a small bowl next to the bottle was a bowl of strawberries, he had pushed the boat out for me!

I took the glass, walked around the side of the bed, and stood before him, "Tim," I sipped from my glass for some Dutch courage, "Tonight I'm all yours and you can do to me whatever you will. With reason," I added with a cheeky smile.

He reached out to me and took my glass, placing it with care next to his, the pulled me towards him, and as if it was the most natural thing in the world we kissed; hard, long passionate kissing that had my already lit fires raging and by the feel of his penis against my thighs the same was happening to him

He pulled me down on to the bed and rolled slightly so he was half over me. I was surprised at his confidence, but happy to let him do what he wanted,stroking my sides and my hips, my breasts, everywhere and the feeling through the silk was fantastic. 

I will confess that as I a bit of an amateur seamstress, I had tailored the thing to fit my curves exactly and even lift up my boobs the tiniest bit. I had made it easy for him though, and he gave up his stroking for a moment, to pull at the tie holding both sides of the flimsy garment together and he gently lifted each side, peeling them off of my breasts and exposing each to his hungry gaze. 

"Wow," he said, "Lainey, you are so... you're perfect, I don't..."

I grabbed his face and pulled him down to kiss me and he rolled over on top of me to rest on me, and falling naturally between my thighs that I opened to greet him. Being of an equal height, his erection pushed down onto my silk clad pussy. The fear of pregnancy was out of the way and with the excitement and tension rising, I had the urge just to rip off my knickers and his boxers and just feel him inside me, but tonight was all about him so I let him make the pace.

He slid down to my now bare breasts and feasted on my nipples, chewing on them as if he was starving man, I cradled the back of his head and stroked his cheek, sighing with the intensity of the moment giving him enough encouragement to let him know despite his nerves he was doing just the right thing.

I reached down to his try and reach his penis, and he got the message and came back up to resume our necking, and I was able to reach inside his boxers. After an absence of just five weeks I'd quite forgotten how huge he was and I began to stroke and gently pump this monster that was about to service me.

I pulled at the sides of his shorts to indicate I wanted them off and he raised up a touch to allow me to do that, and he wriggled out of them, his hot penis coming into naked contact with my thighs. Tim rolled to one side and reached up to our champagne glasses.

I pouted,

"Lainey, I want this wonderful night to last as long as possible so..."

"So do I Tim," I said, "you don't think I'm going to let you get away with only fucking me once do you?" He smiled and shook his head. I reached out for my glass and craned up to sip mine, "Well then, when you've quite finished I for one would very much like you to pull my knickers off of me and fuck me."

"Your wish is my command," he said, and moved down the bed to pull at the string that was covering my pubis, and I slipped out of the pink lace of my teddy. We were both naked, it felt perfect.

"Please Tim," I said, hoping I was sounding like the romance books and movies he's copied his style from, "please make love to me."

He glued his mouth to mine rolled on top of me and I felt his hard cock pressing against my cunt; shit, it was going to happen after months of thinking and agonising and preparation that huge cock was going inside me. Eventually...

It suddenly occurred to me that he'd only fucked on hands and knees and probably wasn't sure about the mechanics of the missionary position. 

Putting him out of his misery I reached down between us, raising my thighs for good measure, and took his bone hard dick and guided it as best I could to the swollen went entrance of my womanhood. It was too long, and of course so hard it wouldn't bend.

"Down a bit Tim," I said, trying to keep any suggestion of humour out of my voice, and he took his weight on his arms and moved fractionally until I felt him at my labia. Thankfully for me, nature took over and he pushed up automatically.

"Christ!" I gasped out loud, "fuck!" I could feel his bell end pushing through into me to a depth I'd never known, until I was sure it was touching my cervix.

"Lainey, you OK?" he burst out, stopping moving, even pulling out a bit, "you want me to stop?".

"NO!" I gasped touching his face and smiling, "Oh God, no," I reassured him, "Tim, it's perfect Darling, absolutely perfect, please carry on and ignore any gasps of passion that you may hear."

"I'll try," he said, and resumed his slow screwing of me. 

It was my first male-female fuck in at least two years, and such a joy to feel a man inside me again. And fuck, what a man! He started to quicken the pace and the contact with my G-spot, A-zone and all the other bits that Cosmo discuss at such great length, began to take effect. My excitement was building to a crescendo point and my orgasm began.

"Oh Tim," I cried out, "Tim, please... oh God, Tim keep going, harder, harder, I'm so close."

My urging was enough and raising himself slightly he upped his pace and fucked my poor puss as hard as he could, and I gasped crying into what was probably my most intense orgasm ever -- so much so my toes still curl to this day when I think of it. 




The Really Complicated Family Ch. 03



I grabbed his face and pulled it down to kiss him hard on the lips. The continued feel of his prick in me, the feelings, the expectation I'd had for so long soon had me bubbling again for another go, so I told him. Well when I say 'told him' it was more a collection of gasp, groans moans and girlish gibberish, but at the time it was the best I could do.

Tim got the message though and held me and fucked me through my crisis, and I lay trembling beneath him, eager to respond but powerless to do more than lay there and let him use me. Use me; shit, he had to come, much as this was the greatest sexual experience of my life (sorry Debs) it was supposed to be about him and him losing his cherry to me. So far he had fucked me and fucked me some more, and hadn't come himself yet. That would change.

Being a girl I knew how to increase the chances of making my lover come, and I hoped that they'd work on my brother.

"Oh Tim," I crooned, wrapping my legs around him to pull him into me, "Tim! Fuck me Darling Tim, fuck me!" I put one arm around his neck and pulled him against my tits and I wriggled them a bit to remind him they were there. Then I cupped one of his buttocks, squeezing it and pulling him into me at the same time. "Oh shit," I called, "It's happening again, fuck it really is happening again!" And fuck me, it did. My efforts to coax him into a climax had done nothing more than to coax me into my third.

I looked up into his face and smiled, he smiled back and slowed his pace, I dropped my legs and just clutched him with my thighs.

"Was that OK Lainey?" he grinned.

"Fuck," I hissed, "OK?" He looked perplexed, "Tim it was the best, I mean the best sex I have ever had bar nothing, no one has even come close, not even me, not even..." I stopped myself from saying 'that little red haired Scots girl that lives with our Aunt, ties my hands behind me and nibbles at my clit til I cry out and used to hold the record for making Elaine come in one session'. He smiled, I giggled. "So now it's your turn Tim, time for you to finally fuck a girl until you come." 

He started to fuck into me in earnest, pulling almost all the way out only to heave himself back into me again,

"This time Tim," I managed to pant out, "Your turn Tim, come in me, please, come in me, Oh God, come in me..." I know it was supposed to be about him, but obviously the thing that made him come had the same effect on me and just hearing him say, 'Oh yeah, here it comes Lainey,' set me up for number four and as he cried out 'Arrgh Shit, Laaaaaainey, I'm coming,' I joined him in a joint orgasm.

I felt his white holt bolts of sperm bash into my insides as his prostate and my cervix spasmed in unison, him just keeping enough movement to see his come through to the end.

He lay on top of me and we panted into each other's faces, both stunned by the amazing sex we'd shared.

"Wow, Lainey," he panted stroking my hair, "thank you so much for letting me..."

"Oh no," I said giggling like a sixteen year old on a first date, "thank you, your fucking was... sublime, it was... shit, all the time I stay on the pill, you can stay fucking me."

"Well," he said, "It was great for me too."

"Now," I said, feeling like I should try to take charge again, "let's have some more champagne and strawberries and we can go for round two."

We lay next to each other quietly giggling and feeding each other strawberries, and gently stroking and playing with each other. I made to get up, his copious orgasmic gift was in serious danger of spilling out of me all over his wonderful new bed.

"My sheets, my problem," he said, gently cupping my chin and not wanting to lose the moment.

"There speaks a man that has never had to sleep in the wet patch," I chuckled rubbing my cheek into his hand, "well at least pass me a handful of those tissues." I settled back onto the bed and waited for inevitable tickle and trickle and held my hand out for the tissues to mop across my pussy. Instead Tim rolled over between my thighs and stared with great interest at my cunt again holding the tissues. With my head up against the head board I had a great view of what he did next. "What are you doing?" I asked a bit schoolmarmishly.

"I want to watch my come run out of you." He said resting his chin in his hands. With my finally sip of champagne, I thought I could give him a show.

"OK then," I said, and squeezed my pussy muscles together feeling the tickle of all that sperm running southwards. I giggled at the funny feeling and his smile along with a most intense stare.

"Oh here we go," he said and his face flexed as my pussy and anus flexed in time. He pushed the tissue against my arse and I felt the warmth of him pour down into the tissue. I laughed at the strangeness of this whole situation, but Tim just mopped up his come and wiped and padded at my pussy so tenderly that it made me blush.

His penis hadn't fully deflated and I knew the one thing guaranteed to bring it up to full strength. I stretched and purred and rubbed a hand through the hair on his chest.

"So fucking a girl is good as good as you expected?" 

"Oh yeah," he said grinning, his cock hardening with just our closeness.

"Well, I think you should have me one more time just to check!"

"Oh yeah," he growled; it was the first time I'd heard that voice from him and shit, didn't it turn me on! "But this time Elaine," his voice positively rumbled, "I want you on your hands and knees..." The wimpish nerdy boy I'd grown up with had disappeared and I almost came there and then. I felt so girly and giggly that I couldn't speak and just sat there beaming at him, "You did say I could do what I wanted with you Elaine, so," he leaned in close, "I suggest you do what you are told and get on your hands and knees."

I flipped over in one movement, drawing my knees together and crossing my arms so I could rest my face on them.

I felt the mattress move as he got in to position behind me, resting his big stiff cock in the cleft of my bottom, then putting one hand in the small of my back to hold me still I felt the head of his cock press into the opening of sopping pussy.

It slid in, all the way in one movement such was the wetness his talk had inspired in me. I gasped and cried out as he went in, all the way in and it was like it wouldn't stop. When he fucked me in the missionary position it was one thing, but with the added depth of being on my hands and knees I thought I'd feel the fucking thing stick in my throat. 

He began to fuck me hard, straight in, no messing around with experimentation, this was a position and technique he knew better than I did and it wasn't long before I discovered his mastery in no uncertain terms.

As I powered through what must have been my third orgasm I could quite understand why Mum had gotten so precious when I suggested he come live with me; his thighs bashed against the cheeks of my arse slapping into them like there was no tomorrow, and all I could do was lie beneath him and let him use me as he'd used Mum. 

It all became a bit of a blur but I remember his green illuminated numbers on his beside radio (the same model as mine I recall) and there being something like nine minutes before him starting to fuck me and me collapsing face down in exhaustion after what must have been a multiple orgasm. 

My collapse did nothing to stop him though, and he continued to pound into me as I lay flat on the bed helpless to do anything but cry and gasp beneath him until he came growling into my ear, his big hands squeezing both of my tits beneath me and his thighs outside mine squeezing my legs together as he tensed though it.

I came round at about four to him dragging the duvet over us both, spooned into a warm embrace, his semi soft cock still inside me.

When I woke next morning it was to him fucking me again! We were still spooning and I tried to figure if at any stage he'd withdrawn his penis from me. 

At that moment it was a bit academic -- I was being fucked royally again from behind and he must have been having as much fun as I was. His hands were around me grabbing my big firm tits again and his busy thumbs and forefingers were pinching and twisting my nipples just the way I'd shown him five weeks before.

I stretched as much as this position would allow and pushed back into him, enjoying the close contact that spoons always allows, he even started to nibble at my ears and kiss my neck and cheek.

"Good morning big boy," I gasped feeling his huge penis powering in and out of me.

"Hey Elaine," he replied, "thought this might be quite a nice way for you to wake up," he said.

"Oh fuck yeah," I gasped, "it certainly is that." After a few moments snogging I felt his hand in between my shoulder blades and him pushing me forward so I was hanging on to the edge of the mattress as he fucked, "Oh Christ," I moaned as he gained an extra couple of centimetres inside me, and his new found confidence, not to say sexual mastery of me made my already flushed face burn in embarrassed excitement.

I came once, twice, three times, gave up counting until he finally grabbed me by the hips and pulled me back onto his questing penis as it spilt its third load into me.

We lay in bed dozing and coming down from our joint orgasms. I thought I had enjoyed the mutual masturbation but his fucking technique and his expertise with his equipment was incredible and I figured that I could do with a lot more of it. 

He kissed my cheek before finally pulling his semi-stiff cock out of my pussy for the first time in at least seven hours, and I felt empty.

To get more; how much did I want it, should I move home, try to get him to move south, how long should we keep this madness going. The doctor had said that even the best form of contraception was only ever 99.5% effective, what if I did get pregnant, what would the world think.

I fell asleep, to be woken by Tim in his pyjama trousers carrying a tray, the same one that not 12 hours ago had held strawberries and champagne.

"Morning sleepy head!" he cried out in voice I assumed had to be loud enough to reach downstairs and Mum who's breakfast tray probably looked a lot like mine.

I sat up to take the tray from him, exposing my breasts and perky nipples for his pleasure. 

"Good morning to you," I said loudly adding "and what a good morning it has been so far," in a whisper.

"Can't argue with that," he whispered and slid to lay down next to me and we started snogging again. I felt his erection beginning to stretch beneath his trousers and rub against my thigh. It felt sore so after a few more moments of his caressing I gently pointed out that he'd screwed me into sexual oblivion three times and already and my poor pussy needed a few hours to recover or I'd be too sore for what I had planned tonight.

"Oh OK then," he said affecting a bored voice, "well, if it's half as good as last night I have to sit back and let you recover."

"Thank you," I said, sighing with relief that I wasn't going to get fucked rigid again by my brother. It was the most wonderful night of my life but my vagina and all points south of it knew it as well.

We had a nice day; I managed to bully Mum into getting dressed, letting me do something with her hair and putting on some make up. I got her into a wheelchair and we got her into my car and went into town. Like a happy family we walked through the town and bought her lunch, with me taking her through to a disabled toilet when necessary. The sun shone, so I bought her a new broad brimmed sun hat that was the tiniest bit floppy but he was very pleased with the day.

OK, it wasn't totally good nature on my part. The floppy brim on her hat meant that she was pretty much blinkered, and couldn't see Tim and I holding hands, or his hand pushed into the back of my jeans or in the back pockets for a crafty feel-up of my bum when it was my turn to push the wheelchair.

Also, we stopped at a pub restaurant and bought her a huge meal including a big sticky pudding -- by the time we got her back home at eight o'clock she was absolutely wasted, and after washing her hands and face and putting her on the commode, we put her straight to bed, and she sank into a very deep sleep within minutes, before Tim had even turned the lights out.

Giggling we headed for the bathroom, and showered together. It was rather a tight fit and we ended up basically rubbing our soapy bodies up against each other and great fun it was too. His penis was a constant reminder of what fun we were to have and I made every effort to play with it and excite him. I took a washcloth and scrubbed all around his prick and his balls, tonight I had every reason to want them extra clean.

Once we'd stopped laughing and used gallons of hot water -- thank God for the electric power shower he'd had fitted, the old water tank would never have lasted -- we got out and dried each other off. He wanted to start right away and was busy trying to drag me to his bedroom. I, of course, still had another surprise for him in my bag.

"Noooo," I pushed his busy hands from my tits and arse, "Tim must be patient if he wants his next present." I opened my wash bag and took out my contraceptive pills taking one with a slug of water straight from the tap.

"Next present?" he said pausing to put his long arms around my waist and pull me against his stiff penis.

"Next present," I said, "because you've been such a good boy you get something extra tonight."

"Extra," he said, "you mean there's more?"

I slid my arms around his neck and gently pressed my lips against his, "Oooooh yeah, why don't you slip into your room and I'll be back in the time it takes for you to open a couple of beers."

"I don't have any beers," he said.

"Look in the fridge big boy," I said squeezing his big cock as I said it, "but you gotta go downstairs naked, or it won't be so much fun."

"Your wish is my command," he trotted down the stairs, sex organs flapping around with each step.

I ran into my old room and pulled out the black lacy bustier, matching string knickers and a pair of black stockings. I fixed my make-up, brushed my hair tying it at the back with a black ribbon, and dressed. The corset clipped up the front and once on looked fantastic! I pulled on the black stockings and clipped them to the attached garters before finishing the whole ensemble by pulling on the tiny black string panties. Giving myself a final burst of my perfume, I slipped on my black heels and looked around for a mirror -- sadly there wasn't one.

I knew I looked hot -- I'd tried the combo on in the department store. The assistants were fantastic and after hearing my request said, 'special occasion?'

I blushed and nodded and was taken into a dressing room and my selection brought through. They changed my mind on my choice of course; a corset? 

Is madam wanting one to control her figure? No, she didn't think I needed to do that, well then, might she suggest a bustier -- 'has the same look but much easier to put on' she said, with an unspoken 'and take off again at speed'. 

My 'pretty in pink' babydoll from the night before had originally been black as well, but, born romantics as well as fashionistas, they had convinced me to go for another colour. For our first night together I had gone for the sweet yet sexy and it had worked perfectly.

Tonight I was in black lace -- ready to get down and dirty and finish off his education.

I tapped on his door.

"Tim, Close your eyes," I said.

"Why should I?" he replied.

"Then you won't get to have what you see, and enjoy all of things we could be doing."

"My eyes are closed." He said, "Hands across my face, honest." He said. I peeked around the door and saw that he was good to his word. Naked, he was sat on the edge of his bed, the lights were down and two bottles of the Stella Artois I'd brought with me where on the table next to him. I trotted across the room and backed into a corner, then tried to decide on the pose for my unveiling. 

I stood feet apart, hands on hips weight on one leg, staring straight at him, then quickly crossed one leg over the other, with hands behind my back, with a bit of pout. Instead I walked forward, bent right over so my bustier enhanced cleavage would be on display and put my hands on his, and pulled them down. He smiled.

"Can I open them now?" he asked, eyes closed.

"Hell yeah!" I whispered, "I didn't go to all this trouble for you not to."

He opened his eyes and I smiled down at him.

"Fucking hell," he gulped, his hand on his cock as if it was going to come there and then.

"What's up Tim," I said standing up and posing with my hands on my hips, "seen something you fancy?" Still holding his hands I pulled him to his feet. I licked my lips and knelt before him taking his huge cock in my hand and rubbing it gently.

I hadn't blown a guy in almost five years, and this was one I was really looking forward to. I squeezed my arms together so my boobs rose up noticeably and started to gently pump his cock.

"This is probably one of the nicest and most intimate things a woman can do for her man - enjoy and go with the moment." I said batting my eyelashes at him.

Licking around his helmet, I started to get him wet. His mouth had dropped open and he looked totally shocked as the penny dropped. I desperately hoped that Mum hadn't done this with him before!

Once I slid his lid into my mouth and gently mouthed him, it became obvious that she hadn't. 

"Shit," he gasped, "Elaine, Christ... that's just... Wow!" his knees buckled involuntarily at each flick of my tongue and he couldn't take his eyes off of me as I moved my warm wet mouth up and down, up and down his cock swallowing as much of him as I could. Again, thanks to Cosmo, I knew and understood the concept of deep throat, not something I was even thinking of trying on a cock this size!

I could feel him start to swell and the small thrusts he gave were completely beyond his control.

"Oh fuck, Elaine," he gasped his eyes, closed, "Christ, this is the best thing ever," He looked down at my face and I temporarily opened my mouth and pulled back off of him smiling sweetly.

"That's what we call a blow job and this is going to be the first of many," I flicked out my tongue to lick the sensitive frenulum beneath the helmet, "so long as you're good." I opened my mouth and forced him back in bobbing my back and forth on him.

I took his right hand and put it to the back of my head and he instinctively grasped by ribbon-tied pony tail and started to move my head back and forth with it, using just the right amount of pressure and force to increase his pleasure; and at the same time, mine. I put my spare left hand to the back of his thigh to steady us both.

It had become obvious to me the night before that he was an expert in holding himself back but I just knew that his excitement, my underwear, general demeanour and sucking of his knob would soon see him lose his cool and his load. I began to wank him and suck him and mouth him and felt him stiffer than ever before. I pulled off of him,

"I'm going to let you come in my mouth," I said wanking him even faster.

"Really! Wow, Elaine..."

"And I expect some of it will spill other places," I said before pushing him back in my mouth.

I knew he was there so wanked him fiercely while scrubbing his knob with my tongue.

"Uuuuuuurgh! God all-fucking mighty!" he gasped and I felt his first bolt of sperm spit out into my mouth, followed by a second and a third and I struggled to swallow as more pumped into my mouth. 

Drawing my breath, I pulled him from my mouth before I gagged and masturbated him through the end of his orgasm, making his come splash on my cheeks, chin, the front of my hair and my closed eyes. 

I felt him relax, and sucked on him and manipulated him until I knew he was done.




The Really Complicated Family Ch. 03



"That Ok Tim?" I asked, taking a long finger and dragging his strings of semen from my face and lowering them into my mouth. This wasn't something I'd ever done before, but dressed as I was, having spent the last few weeks doing what I'd done, it came naturally to the girl I could see in Tim's large mirrored wardrobe, on her knees before her brother with his come all over her.

Grabbing some tissues from his bedside table I wiped my face free of the last of his semen, and looked at the girl in the mirror again. Gone was nice Miss Barnes the deputy head of the local primary, and in her place was this sexy woman that had needed her own brother to bring out the sex monster in her.

I grinned at the girl in the mirror and tipped her a wink, turned and lay on the bed.

"Hand me a beer boy," I said feeling a bit risqué, "then you can return the favour and go down on me, while you get your strength back." I thought about the last person to lick my pussy, "I've been told I taste divine!"

I even introduced him to the concept of the sixty-nine and he was great at it, making me come three times before he declared himself erect, bored, and ready for more. 

"But I might want more pussy licking BOY!" I said, my racy underwear getting the better of me.

"Girls should remember their place, and learn to do what they're bloody told," he said in that voice I'd heard for the first time last night. He play-wrestled me off of him, flipped me on to my front, smacked me across my arse, Get on your hands and knees!" he growled, "So I can fuck you!".

I did, he did.

I woke at four that morning desperate for a pee, and slid from his embrace and padded to the bathroom. I blotted myself dry, and looked in the mirror again, the rude cheeky girl had gone and nice Miss Barnes was back, albeit that nice Miss Barnes with her large, still firm tits hanging over the top of her bustier, no knickers to cover her heart shaped pubes and the top of her pussy and a single blob of her brother's come still in her hair. 

She looked good for all that and I decided that I liked her and what she had become even after her fucked up childhood and what her mother had done to her.

At the top of the stairs I decided I needed a glass of water after the two bottles of strong lager I'd drunk. I'd put my boobs away; after all I wanted to look good for Tim in the morning, I'd only gotten fucked once that night after all. 

Mum's bedroom door was open and the moon light came in above the top of the curtains and I could see her sleeping peacefully and deeply, with a seraphic smile on her face and that faint grunting snore of hers that had NEVER failed to bug the shit out of me my whole life. 

Suddenly I felt angrier with her than I ever had before, even when she called the police to have me arrested on the motorway all those years before.

I didn't know what I wanted to do, OK I didn't want to smother her but the rebel in me wanted a small act of revenge. I softly blew on her face, and she stirred,

"I just fucked your son, my brother," I whispered to her, and her eyes trembled slightly as she was half asleep and dreaming. I turned my back to her, bending and pointing my bottom at her, pinched between the straps of my suspenders. "We've spent the last two nights in bed, he's screwed my delectable pussy and came in me, I sucked his cock until he came in my mouth and on my face. And you know what? He's going to carry on doing it - I've got him, he's mine and going to be mine in a way you could never have him, so fuck you Mummy dearest..." I snarled.

She stirred some, and I stood hands on hips, a black clad dirty girl, pussy on display should she wake to see it.

I trotted soundlessly back upstairs and slid into bed with Tim pulling his hand over my tits, and falling into a peaceful doze.

The next morning she slept late, meaning Tim could climb over me and fuck me again, normally, in the classic missionary position, and it was great. I came twice, before he dropped his seed deep into the depths of my pussy, and I smiled, thinking of what I had said to Mum in her sleep and of the foil packet, the tablet I'd taken and what a great time I was having.

We showered again, taking turns to play with each other in the cramped glass capsule. I discovered that on Friday night Tim had pulled the fuse on her stair lift so there was no way she could hobble to the stairs and catch us at it.

Over breakfast I struggled not to stare at him or make faces, we were at that stage when anyone that had ever had a love affair could take one look at our faces and know we were at it like knives. Mum did look at bit askance at me, and the cleavage I had on display.

I went out to the kitchen and made some more tea after lunch, and heard Mum talking, "I had such a strange dream Timmy," she said, as she thought quietly and conspiratorially but she'd not had her hearing aid fitted since her fall so was slightly deafer than she thought for.

"Really?" said Tim, "what's up then,"

"Oh, you know," she had the voice that said 'oh it's nothing but I reeeeally want you to listen'. "It was just a dream probably meant nothing, but..."

"But what?" he said, knowing our mother well.

"You aren't thinking of moving down to London with Elaine are you?"

"Whatever made you think that!" he said incredulously.

"Oh nothing," she said, "Just a dream I had," she smiled and patted his hand and I chose that moment to walk in on her recollections having pulled down the front of my blouse just a fraction more.

Mum had an afternoon nap on her bed, and having pulled Tim's trousers and shorts to his ankles I was busy sucking him off again on the sitting room sofa. Tim was totally taken with this and held my ponytail, still tied in last night's black ribbon, so he could control my strokes.

"Oh fuck yeah," he growled again fucking my mouth.

"So who did you prefer Tim;" I said stopping the action but still wanking him for all I was worth, "pink and pretty Princess Lainey on Friday, or Elaine, your Saturday night black laced whore..."

"Chrrrrrrrist!" he gasped and pushed my open mouth back onto his exploding cock spraying his Jizz into my throat causing me to cough a bit and his come to squirt onto my face and blouse. 

Catching my breath, I held my mouth open and directed the last of his shots into my mouth and onto my tongue sucking out the last of him and squeezing out the last of his drops.

Sitting back on my haunches I slowly wanked him until I knew the sensations would have stopped.

"So I take it you prefer that your Saturday night black laced whore?"

He smiled and pulled me onto his lap, "Elaine, don't call yourself that because you aren't -- but now you come to say it, I guess I probably did prefer the black lace; fuck you look red hot in stockings and suspenders."

"I'll remember that," I said putting my arms around his neck, "Oh and by the way, I've left both sets in your bedside table, both pairs of panties will need washing. They are a bit nice for you to wank into but hopefully I'll be back in a couple of weeks and you won't need to do so much of that." I put my mouth over his and our tongues clashed together and fingers ran through hair.

After a high tea, I kissed them both goodbye promising I'd be back in a few weeks; when I bent to kiss Mum in her special chair that the hospital had supplied, she sniffed but I thought nothing of it.

However, once free of the house and sat in the heat of my car before the air-con kicked in, a familiar smell came to my nose. A smell she probably knew as well if not better than me.

Tim's come had spattered on my cotton blouse and much as I'd sponged most of it off, there was still a detectable odour; pulling my skirt up I played with my clit at every point the traffic allowed, after all I had made a point of not putting any panties on that day so Tim could play with me whenever he felt like it. Once on the motorway it was pretty much non-stop and I managed to keep the tension up until I was able to pull into a car-free and darkened area in the huge car park of a motorway service station and finish myself off, calling Tim's name and thinking of Mum sitting so close she'd know what we were doing.

I got home wasted and feeling better and sexier than I had in many years, and promised that I'd never use a dildo again -- after all, when you've had the gold, plastic just won't do it!



The Really Complicated Family Ch. 04



I spent the next few nights not even masturbating -- having been so well and truly fucked by my brother Tim the previous weekend. Twice on Friday night, once Saturday morning and Saturday night and again on Sunday morning, add to this the two occasions I'd blown him and it was the most fantastically sexual two days of my life.

Much as my clitoris, g-spot and cervix pleaded with me, I couldn't go back the next weekend as my school had a summer fete on the Saturday, and I wouldn't have the time to get there and back and be awake enough to do anything.

So when the phone call came from Ronnie to join her and 'her girls' for a barbecue I was honestly in two minds. It was another opportunity for her to parade her straight niece before all of her Lesbian and bi mates and show that she had some normal family over and above Viv and Debs, her two live-in lovers/partners/best friends.

I thought that my occasional overnighters with Debs weren't a matter of discussion for them, Ronnie had let it be known back in the day that Elaine wasn't for fucking around with and wasn't in their club.

But Ronnie's 'girls nights' were such tremendous fun; the jokes and humour was sharp and fast, kind of like being in a one-liner battle in a room full of lady comedians, and I did not want to miss one.

So, conscious about what Debs had said when straight girls dress sexy for dyke parties, I just went with tight jeans and a T-shirt -- underneath of course I went with a black lacy string that wouldn't leave a line and matching bra, and should I wish to stay the night in a room other than the spare one I would still have something to show off to any other occupant.

Mind you, who the fuck was I kidding, so long as she had nothing else going on it was going to be Debs; her cheeky smile and tilt of her head had my nipples hard and my pussy damp in moments.

By the time I arrived and left my bottles of beer in the kitchen the party was in full swing, and I took a half baguette, spread it with butter and it was filled with bratwurst and burgers within three minutes of me switching off my car engine. 

I sipped my first beer and was descended upon by the at least half of the gang. Ronnie, Viv, another lecturer from UCL called Christine, Julie the police woman who had been promoted from sergeant to inspector that week and who the party was for, her partner Jayne the fitness instructor and luscious Jackie, the blonde 'porn star'. 

OK she wasn't ACTUALLY a porn star; she was in real life an economics professor from California, but her natural blonde hair, dynamite arse, huge tits with unruly and permanently erect nipples and husky voice even when ordering pizza just made you think of the girls in those appalling porn films. 

Debs had said that she was so gorgeous she could have been one and that was that, for ever after Jackie was dubbed 'the porn star'.

Educated at some finest colleges in the US she'd crossed the Atlantic settling for the quiet backwoods and donnish attitudes of Cambridge rather than the almost constant ridicule of UCLA whenever she tried to stand up and say something sensible. She considered herself to be bi-curious simply because her astonishing good looks meant that she was rarely asked on dates by men who thought themselves her out of their league.

Debs had told me she'd had all three of the Camden posse and I thought what I'd do for entertainment if she decided on Debs for her bed warmer that night. Fortunately for me, Debs decided that wasn't on the cards and ran across the garden from the barbeque her apron flying, to throw her arms around me.

"Darling Elaine!" she hissed in my ear squeezing me tight and dropping a hand on my bottom, "Where have you been? You've not dumped me for some other short arsed dyke have you?"

"Debs," I chuckled, "you are still my first and only in that direction," I said.

"Oh," she said sensing something in my manner, "but there has been someone."

"Yes," I said, "haven't you had someone else in the meantime?" She pouted.

"OK, you got me," she said, then tucked an arm through mine and dragged me away from the competition, "so tell me about him," she said, "is he a good kisser?"

I paused; the one thing we teach children about lying is that one lie normally begets another, then another; the only way around this was to either deny everything, come clean that I was fucking my brother (who she had met) or base my story so much on the truth as possible so I wouldn't forget facts or confuse things. 

"Not as good as you Debs," I said lying.

"That was too quick to be true, he is a good kisser obviously," that was true, Tim was a great kisser. "Good in bed?" She looked at my face and just smiled, "Fucking hell" she whispered, "That good?"

I nodded and drew my index fingers his penis width apart and then made my finger and thumb represent his girth.

"That big!?!" she almost shouted out. I looked around me nervously and nodded. "This guy I have to meet!" she chuckled, "For a chopper that big I could go straight for a night... or two. You must give my regards to Donkey Dick if you see him again."

"When I see him, I certainly shall," I said smiling, "His donkey dick is addictive, just like you are."

I didn't feel the need to tell her that she had already met him, and had taken a bit of a dislike to him as a matter of fact.

I ate my fantastic barbecue, sat on the grass leaning my back against the potting shed -- the same one I had disappeared behind some years back with Debs for the first time. Ronnie's girls were wonderfully on form. Being all so scarily intelligent the slightly merry badinage wasn't about 'bloody men' as you would imagine, but more about the foibles and short comings of 'crazy dykes' -- their choice of words not mine -- and why they all wished they 'batted for the home team', again, their words. It made a refreshing change not to listen to crap about the latest TV soap, husbands, boyfriends, spots, weight or clothes that I got with my straight mates.

It was fun, a had a few beers, some wine, conscious that while I wanted to party with the girls I also quite fancied getting it on with little Debs, who I'd not seen in that respect for at least six months. The beer, her closeness (by this stage she was resting her head on my shoulder and holding my hand) her smile, and the fact the thin cotton blouse she was almost wearing left nothing to the imagination and my mouth watered at the thought of feasting on those over large nipples I knew so well.

Viv had returned with her acoustic guitar and after playing a few slow songs handed it across the ring of us, by that stage reduced to less than a dozen. "Give it to Lainey!" came the chorus and I found it plopped in my lap.

I learned to play 'idiots guitar' while at teacher training college through a boyfriend who gave me 'Seven chords -- fifty songs', A collection of twelve bar country, rock and roll and folk songs that never got more complicated than four chords, the most dramatic being an E minor.

The great secret about this style of guitar playing is school children and pissed friends all thought just because you could play the 'wheels on the bus' (G and D) or 'Me and Bobby McGee' (G, C and D7th) that you were Eric Clapton.

So as the words 'Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose' the clock ticked later and later. Knowing my repertoire by now, various tunes were called out and I did my best, finishing with us all signing 'are you lonesome tonight'.

As we all joined in with the crescendo 'does your heart fill with pain, will you come back again, tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?" Debs gave me a look that said, 'tonight I'm having you, don't argue'. Not that I would have done of course!

It was nice to see that the other girls pairing off; nothing was cast in stone, and no relationships messed up. We were drunk enough to be a bit emotional and the community singing of some old love songs had got us all cuddly and in the mood.

Christine and Viv had wandered off to the kitchen to discuss UCL and its rights and wrongs, the newly promoted and extremely pissed inspector Julie and her partner Jayne were drunk and snogging on the grass, and (I was so pleased to see) Ronnie and Jackie the porn star were cuddling. I hoped that would happen. Ronnie was the senior partner of the group and was sometimes so busy checking all of her girls were OK she often found herself tidying up and putting things away as others crept off to quiet rooms, sofas or behind the potting shed to do whatever they felt like while she went off to bed alone. 

Chances are they'd only go to her room, strip down to T-shirts and just cuddle and sleep together, but I kind of hoped that Ronnie would get some tonight. When Debs and I crept to her room some two hours later from behind the potting shed we could hear the creek of Ronnie's bed springs as she got down to business.

What I loved about Debs was she was as girly as I was; yes the sex was great but I loved the kissing and cuddling that we got up to for about an hour before, slowly stripping each other of clothes piece by slow piece until we were left in just knickers or sometimes just shoes. We'd also chat sweet nothings to each other that got racier and racier and when the passion was about to burst we'd make for a bed or convenient soft surface. Tonight was no exception and we both stood from our hideout behind the potting shed grabbing handfuls of our clothes, but still trying to hold hands and hoping we wouldn't have an embarrassing bumping into friends to deal with.

In the living room only lit by the ambience of the street lights through half open curtains, I could see what I took to be Julie's bare bottom, a pair of hands wrapped around it that could only be Jayne's, before I finally caught sight of Jayne's blonde hair, her forehead and closed eyes and her nose buried between her girlfriends thighs; from the position I guessed that both Julie and Jayne were sixty nine fans like me.

Debs smiled and pulled me away; I considered what I would have done if she'd dragged me in there to join them -- go of course!

I hoped that none of the others would see me -- simply because the only one I wanted to make love to was Debs, and I figured it would be really embarrassing to have to turn down an offer from one of these fantastic women.

We made it unhindered, naked and sooo in the mood. "Tell me about this Donkey Dick," hissed Deb in my ear.

"It's long, as long as I showed you," I said, "but not so thick as it hurts to go in."

"Not like getting fucked by a baseball bat then." She panted into my face as we rubbed at each other's clit's.

"Oh no" I gasped feeling her fingers at my pussy, "nothing like tha... ooooooooooh," I cried out. The minx had for a time now been slipping two then three fingers into me, I realised to stretch me out a bit for as before I knew it her entire but very slim hand was pushed up into my cunt further than she'd ever gone before with anything. 

Looking down I could see that my labia had closed over her wrist and she started a very slow fuckng motion occasionally flexing her fingers to scratch my G-spot, wowee!

I turned my shocked face to her delighted one and I kissed her smiling face. "Is it OK?" she asked, obviously not reckoning on my delighted gasps and trembling as I headed for orgasm.

"Yeah, Oh yeah," I panted feeling that feeling again as all my insides started to tense for the inevitable physical flush and the emotional rush that I loved so much. It struck and abandoning Deb's cunt for a moment I grabbed her face pulling it onto mine so our lips could touch and tongues clash in wet, hot celebration. Bearing in mind what I'd liked most those short two weeks before, I rolled onto my hands and knees.

"Fuck," said Debs, her hand still inside me, "you dirty BITCH!" she giggled. In the same way Tim did, she put her spare hand to the small of my back to steady herself and me and then started fucking her hand into me again. I had lost one of the sexiest things of our lovemaking, the look on her pretty heart-shaped face as she did what she wanted to me, and she did just that. Her spare hand snaked from the small of my back to the cheeks of my bottom, disappeared for a moment in what must have been her licking her index finger, to slide it gently and lovingly into my anus and carry out the most intense massage of all of those nerve endings therein.

She told me next day that the process was called 'fisting' -- whatever it was called, it was the closest thing to Tim's huge penis in me with the benefit of fingers that could move around and touch little important or sensitive places that dicks didn't.

I came a couple more times then flopped down edging towards exhaustion. Debs withdrew her hand and I rolled over on top of her pinning her tiny form under me. I tried to reciprocate but ran out of bottle; I have large hands and Debs beautiful puss looked way fragile for me to abuse it in such away as she had me. Still, using my tongue and fingers I brought her off a couple of times before falling asleep naked and in each other's arms, it was warm, comforting and such a change from those nights I'd slept next to Tim's hard and hairy body.

We woke, each stirring gently and pulling together, our boobs brushing gently, nipples erecting against nipples and we were well set for a sweet and sexy kissing session, both still faintly smelling of the juices of the other and I held her tight, just enjoying her. We whispered to each other and listened to the rest of the house surface.

Ronnie and Jackie were first up whispering to each other, as they tiptoed downstairs walking into the kitchen, obviously to avoid Julie and Jayne who were probably asleep and still naked in the living room. Viv and Christine followed next and I whispered into Debs ear asking if this was routine in a Lesbian house and was anything said. Debs giggled and said that it wasn't in their house. No one was ashamed or anything, but it saved the red faces or looks of disdain if we all pretended nothing had happened.

I let Debs get up first, I never tired of looking at her gorgeous naked body and she never tired of showing it to me posing in a 'not posing' kind of way, before her large window onto the garden, the gentle breeze lifting her white, light curtain around her like some huge flowing nightwear.

As usual she lifted a long T-shirt from the chair and pulled it on, finally depriving me of the only other female body I enjoyed after mine -- the T-shirt emblazon made me crack up, it read 'dip me in chocolate and throw me to the lesbians'. She'd seen one of her LSE students wearing one for a student fund raising event, and asked were he'd got it, and headed straight to Camden market and bought one.

I stood and stretched in the same way she had, putting on a similar display for her that she had done for me. I pulled on my black knickers bending to point my arse to her, and she reached out giving me a gentle slap on both cheeks. I chuckled, making a 'oooooh' noise I knew she'd appreciate and wiggling just a tiny bit.

"Mmmmm," she cooed, "hold still." I felt her breath on my bottom and waited for her to pull down my knickers to expose my still glowing puss. She didn't -- next thing I knew she was latched onto my arse with her mouth and sucking; 'hmm, different,' I thought then next thing, she had sunk her teeth into my arse and bitten down! I pulled away from her with a giggle, as this was something we did to each other, bottoms, boobs and labia had all had a playful nip and I laughed, and spun round chasing her to pay her back, eventually stopping when we reached the top of the second flight of stairs.

Not having Debs free spirit -- or for that matter her lesbian status -- I wasn't brave enough to walk down and meet the other residents dressed in just a T-shirt with the breeze blowing through my arrangements, so I put on my jeans and T-shirt from the night before. My bra must have been in the garden still, or somewhere between the potting shed and Debs room.

We walked down to the kitchen together to a group of slowly awakening ladies and a kitchen that smelled of toast, coffee, tea and various hastily applied feminine hygiene products.

As Debs had said, there was no air of reproach or 'who did what to who' -- just bleary eyed girls trying to recover from one of Ronnie's parties, and slowly coming round. Debs, who didn't drink as heavily when she knew she would be sleeping with me, became host and took over from Ronnie who gratefully slumped into a chair and sipped at the life giving black coffee she needed above all else first thing in the morning.

Debs dragged the butter the fridge, reached up for plates, bent to retrieve cups from cupboards conscious that her lovely curvy, pert bottom was on display for all to see. I knew that almost everyone in the room had seen it a lot closer, in the same way that I had -- for instance that last night had been the first time we hadn't we hadn't sixty-nined each other to orgasm since she'd taught me how those years ago.

I wasn't sure how I felt about it; our relationship had always been occasional and 'no strings' -- we'd meet up two or three times a year, always at the Camden house in her room with nothing said by Ronnie or Viv, or any of the group. I was never approached by anyone else from the group, although I could 'feel their eyes on me' if I dressed differently from usual jeans and Tee.

The other girls were all covered up, and even to this day I'm not sure how I felt about them looking at 'my'... partner? OK, she wasn't MY partner, I had no claims to her whatsoever or any right to how she dressed or acted. I can confess today that I was jealous -- we all knew who, what, where and for how long the night before, but my lack of experience in their world was all too evident and I suppose it also explains why I never joined it on more than a casual and occasional basis.

Eventually Jayne and Julie appeared, will Jayne did, she pushed open the twin sliding doors exposing a grumbling, hung-over Julie looking pained but very sexy in just her white blouse and tiny white knickers lying on the sofa. Jayne had covered up, although her blouse left nothing to the imagination. She was a fitness instructor, and let's face it, anyone with a body like hers would have shown it off proudly.

Breakfast, as always, was an amazingly relaxed and informal affair with the usual banter and repartee, slower than yesterday but still as much fun as it had been, and I tried to keep up. OK I had a Diploma in Education and an English degree, I was at the lower end of the educational spectrum in this party. Both Ronnie and Debs were PhD's, Viv had any number of BA's, MA's and letters after her name, Jackie had a Doctorate from UCLA, Christine was multi-degree'd, even Julie and Jackie had met at University, Julie studying criminology and Jayne upping her state enrolled nurse status with a degree in Sports medicine and nutrition.

It was great fun and being single and a former student I was pretty adept at quick food. Like Debs I hadn't gone mad with the booze and after a few mugs of tea made for me by Debs, I opened the fridge and produced my trade mark post piss-up scrambled eggs with black pepper and, for those that did Worcestershire sauce, spooned over toast. After half an hour and the smell and satisfied noises of her friends even Julie had rejoined the land of the living and stumped through to the kitchen sipping gratefully at the coffee Ronnie handed her. As I stood over her I noticed she too had a small dolphin tattoo on her right breast to match the one that Jayne had on her left. 

Among the group Julie was the only one that had been married. Sadly, like lots of police relationships, her marriage wasn't able to survive the shift changes and intense relationships with colleagues, the final nail being the miscarriage of her first child. 




The Really Complicated Family Ch. 04



Struggling to come to terms with the loss, and the year she was told to give it before she tried again, she threw herself into her career. Promoted to sergeant over her husband Ray who was a traffic officer, the tension between them increased as they drifted further apart with their work. The arguments started as he began to feel she was lording it over him, as she had to take a more strategic approach to her work. Through the amazingly small world of the police service she soon heard that he was being seen with a female colleague. 

Eventually it became evident that he associated more with this traffic WPC than he did with her, and was beginning to talk about her all the time. When on nights she heard that his shift were out on the town, parking her patrol car and walking she was greeted by the sight of him and her in each other's arms other drunkenly slobbering over each other outside the pub.

By the time he'd recovered from his hangover and got back from work at six the next day, it was to find she had moved out, left a note apologising for the miscarriage and her promotion and telling what she knew of him and the new woman, suggested they divorce, sell the house and split the proceeds and move on amicably. They did; the new policewoman was promoted to sergeant eighteen months later and dumped him, for an inspector she'd known for years.

Julie had taken the advice of woman inspector and had got onto a master's degree course in criminology and criminal justice psychology. While sat in the college restaurant in her uniform she heard, 'excuse me, do you mind if I sit there?' It was Jayne, a nurse she'd known from the accident and emergency department on a passing acknowledgement, both of them nervous at being back at school after all these years surrounded by kids and being in their day job uniforms.

It was the start of a friendship that had seen them partying, holidaying, virtually living in and out of each other's houses and wardrobes, and being of a similar background, age and work ethic -- not to mention clothes and shoe size, they became like sisters. The crunch came when they were invited to a party and it was suggested they sleep over. Pissed and sharing a bed naked but for panties for the first time, they cuddled; they ventured to holding each other, hands on waists and thighs and once asleep boobs, as they enjoyed spooning in the way they would have done with boyfriends and husbands.

They woke next morning a little embarrassed at what they had done the night before, but being adults and both in a caring outward facing professions, they talked about how nice it had been and how it was just an innocent cuddle they had both enjoyed just for the closeness of it.

It became a regular thing, with one climbing into bed with the other as the mood took them increasingly, and due if anything to the summer temperature as much as lust, naked. Both being shift workers it wasn't every night, or day for that matter, but if days off fell together they'd spend the day together then climb into bed.

Inevitably, it went to the next step. After the end of their first year exams and a day shopping and a night in the West End, they returned to Julie's place, pleasantly tired and still on a post-show high the fell into bed together.

"Thanks for a wonderful day Julie," hissed Jayne so happy she was close to tears.

"Thank you Jayne," said Julie pulling her friend close. They kissed, then kissed again, stopping and staring into each other's eyes as if trying to fathom if lines had been crossed and how the other person felt. When smiles were returned, their lips drew together and mouths opened and tongues met in passion rather than just friendship.

With just enough booze and adrenaline their hands ranged over each other's bodies enjoying what they were doing and what was being done to them, and they played and experimented. Finally they ignored breasts and bottoms and finally started to go for broke -- and pussies.

It was in great shock that Julie rolled almost unnoticed into her first orgasm, telling Jayne in gasps that she was about to come, then, oh, oh, oh God!

Discussing it over a glass of water, Julie announced that it was her turn to make Jayne come. Jayne laid back and let Julie do as she would. She did and when she came, big fat tears ran down her cheeks, and Julie soon joined her as they announced that today was the best day ever.

Waking the next morning, they both admitted to laying there and waiting for the other to say something; both guessing this was the case they rolled together laughing. Jayne kissed Julie's cheek, Julie ran fingers through her lover's chestnut brown hair. They did it again that morning, and were so taken with this new work, at mid-day Julie ran in to her work sick with an upset stomach - four hours later Jayne did likewise, and they stayed in bed stopping only for an evening meal before climbing into Julie's large bath.

When they got back into bed -- pink, perfumed and pretty, yet hornier than ever - Julie looked suddenly pleased with herself then reached into her bedside table bottom drawer bringing out her vibrator and a shiny glass dildo.

They used them on each other for a couple of hours, swapping the dildo for the vibrator occasionally and discussing how they liked to fucked or buzzed and before falling asleep at something like three in the morning they were both expert in exciting and pleasuring their new best friend -- and lover.

That was four years previously. Viv was one of Julie's lecturers and her tutor for her second and third year, and from the graduation party the pair were inducted in the Camden posse. 

Still crazy in love they could hardly be parted; Jayne now worked for a premiership football team and Julie had a strategic role at Scotland Yard, so their night shifts and early shifts were a thing of the past. They were pretty much 'wife and wife'.

I hoped that all of the Camden girls would find such bliss; at one stage I did consider life with Debs on a regular basis as Viv and Ronnie seemed so much more suited to one another, but I now know that they had each other, and still have each other on a regular basis, at least weekly even if sometimes they just cuddle and kiss. I still wonder at how they do for the 'three's a crowd' rule. Ronnie's bed is without doubt the biggest and I understand from Debs they occasionally all jump in together!

After mid-afternoon lunch, at which point Ronnie walked into the dining room holding aloft my missing racy, lacy bra shouting "has someone lost this?" I shamefacedly admitted it was mine and Ronnie shook her head in mild reproach, and I considered throwing in, 'I took it off because it was uncomfortable' but decided against it. 

Ronnie smiled, looking from me to Debs before throwing it to me saying 'potting shed' as if that explained a thousand words. To me, and to the rest of the room it did. Viv giggled, and looked over the top of her coffee mug at me,

"Next time you play the guitar Lainey, can you play a special request for me?"

"Yeeeeees," I said wondering what would come next.

"Queen song," she said and I wondered about my 8 chord limit, "one of my favourites..."

"Yeah," I said waiting for the joke now.

"Old classic darling," she replied, "three chords." She sipped more of her coffee. The whole room was now baited and waiting on her punch line. She smiled, breathed in the aroma of her ridiculously expensive coffee and added, "Platters did it originally, called 'The Great Pretender..."

The following week was the last half term holiday of the summer and three weeks since my last fuck with Tim, so after a long teacher training day on the Friday, I jumped into my little black VW and headed north at great speed, thinking about what I would be getting when I got there and what bedroom arrangements Tim had made.

On my arrival, I let myself in chirping 'I'm here' to the house. Tim was there in seconds with a huge, if somewhat lecherous smile for me.

"Hi Tim," I beamed back at him, not bothering to keep the excitement from my face. I walked to him, looked around and out a hand to his waist and not seeing Mum, kissed his cheek, rubbing my face against his. "Where's Mum," I hissed in his ear.

"In the middle room," he said, "in her chair."

"Her bed?" I whispered enquiringly.

He nodded his head towards the kitchen shouting to Mum that he was making some tea. Once in the kitchen he pulled the door almost shut.

"She's still in the front room," he said, "she's said she wants to move back upstairs again, I found her in her chair lift a few days ago, luckily I still haven't put the fuse back in. I've said I'm waiting for the mechanic to come round and have a look at it, and he's due sometime next week. I'm hoping you can take her into town, for a few hours so I can 'fix it'." He grinned.

"We can't stop her really," I said, "It is her house."

"Aah!" he burst out, "now THAT'S where you're wrong, Lainey. As of Friday fortnight ago, it's officially MY house."

"What?"

"I contacted an estate agent, who came round and priced it for me, said it was fifty five thousand. I rang the landlord and offered him fifty, let him nudge me up to fifty two and that was that. I got a solicitor who spoke with his and I exchanged contracts two weeks ago. I'm officially a man of property; don't tell Mum though." He grinned again.

Having taken over the banking some years ago it was easy to hide the fact that no rent was going out the door, and he said he was going to save the remainder of his money from Dad and Nanny Barnes and spend the 'rent money' doing the place up, upgrading the heating and putting in double glazing a few windows at a time.

We made the tea, and walked back into the living room with a tray.

"Hi Mum!" I said bending to kiss her proffered cheek, "You're looking well."

"Feeling a hundred times better," she said with a faint cross edge to her voice, "I'm fair running around the place, if Timothy doesn't get the bloody chair lift repaired I might walk upstairs myself one morning just to surprise you."

'Just to surprise YOU' -- not him, 'You'. Now whether she meant 'the pair of you' or 'me' I had no idea but the threat to come and visit us was very real and I noticed Tim trying not to react in the same way I was trying not to. I struggled to read her inference -- she could have said 'I'll walk upstairs one afternoon' or 'one evening' but it was definitely 'morning'. Tim came to the rescue. "You bloody will NOT walk upstairs MOTHER," he said crossly, "I will NOT wait on you hand and foot for another two bloody months just because you want to show off to everyone how fit you are and take another tumble. You told me you couldn't manage the stairs before the accident so I put a lift in, so none of this nonsense." He looked real angry, I'd certainly never seen him like it before and I guessed from Mum's stunned face that she hadn't either.

"I... I just want..."

"You'll just want nothing," he growled, "the man is coming on Thursday morning, I've told you," he said, "in the meantime you can help me out by being sensible. Do you think your threats to stagger upstairs will help me, or Elaine for that matter, sleep better at night?" he nagged Mum in the same she had nagged us all those years ago!

"No, I suppose not."

"Right," he said, "Once the chair is fixed I will personally move you and all of your stuff back upstairs and you can start doing some things in the house again, I know you've missed doing that." She hadn't; she liked nothing more than being the poor old lady that needed help around the house. Tim knew that too and played her desire to see what we were up to and to try and disrupt it against her desire to be waited on and fussed over. I could see the mental struggle going on in her head through the strange look on her face.

That was that; to bring things back to normal he said that seeing as I was there for the week he'd redecorate her room for her and asked what colours she wanted -- he cut in to say he wasn't doing browns, greens or creams like the landlord had always used. She grumbled that Mr Patel wouldn't be happy, but he said that while she was in hospital the landlord had changed and the new owner had said he could decorate exactly how he wanted. She said that she wanted her favourite colour blue; he said he would buy the paint in the morning and have her room ready for Thursday when she could move back in. I even offered to take Mum out a couple of times so she wouldn't have to put up with the smells of paint and things that she hated so much and had always given her a migraine.

In the kitchen Tim smiled at me, "That was fun," he said, "She's had that coming for a looooooong time," he grinned.

"Do you want me to take her out for a few mornings?" I said.

"You can If you like," he grinned, "but I painted her room blue a few weeks back and painted all of her awful utility furniture white, it's quite livened up the place." He said.

"Fantastic," I smiled, "you can show me later on, just before you fuck my brains out on her bed."

An hour later and after we had all dined on fish and chips, Mum was a bit more contrite and allowed herself to be helped to her bed time ablutions, obviously wanting us both to see she was fit enough to get upstairs but not fit enough to do everything on her own and lose her disability privileges.

Tim was true to his word. After putting Mum to bed he virtually dragged me to her bedroom, switched on the light and announced, "Royal blue, now get your fucking clothes off and get on your hands and knees."

"I have to take my medicine before you get yours," I said, opening my bag and taking out my contraceptive pills, and picking up the glass of water. That done, he stood over me, arms folded, staring at my boobs just concealed by the T-shirt.

I stripped my clothes off while he watched, and sat on the bed waiting for my first glimpse of that huge prick of his in two weeks. I wasn't disappointed.

I dropped to my knees and opened his belt and his flies, dragging his trousers to his knees already wanking his huge cock.

"Fuck yeah," he said closing his eyes, and pulling my head forward so his knob went into my open mouth. So much for the gentle and sophisticated blow job technique I'd practiced on him, he had my hair and was holding me still while he fucked my mouth; I let him.

He got so hard so quickly and much as I loved to blow him and feel those jets of come in my mouth, I also wanted to feel that hardness powering in and out of my puss that had only been matched by Debs fisting me the week before, which lovely as it was, didn't give me the same feelings of being taken in the way that Tim always did. I didn't have to make the decision though.

He withdrew his cock from my lovingly attentive mouth and lifted me up, turned me and pushed me towards Mums bed. It was higher than his and I knelt up on the sides ready to move forward and into the middle to 'assume the position' -- submissively onto my hands and knees. But Tim stopped me, and pushed me forward so my arse was level with the edge of the bed and my toes just hanging.

His penis sliding into me came as a wonderful shock, even just after a fortnight I'd quite forgotten how incredible it was as he started to power in and out of me, the stability of standing on the floor fucking me added something and my lust addled subconscious took the sensation from my cervix, clit and G-spot sending it straight to my brain, and I needed only his grunts and the smacking of his thighs against my bottom to roll me straight over the edge into orgasm in no time flat.

"Bloody hell, Elaine," he sighed, "you were ready for that one weren't you."

I giggled, gasped, cried all at once, as the final trembles worked their way through me. Tim chuckled at my incoherence, rubbing a tender hand from my bottom up my spine to massage that tense bit between the shoulder blades and , and I relaxed, "Oh, just shut the fuck up and screw me, donkey dick,"

"Donkey Dick?" he said fucking into me harder.

"Yeah!" I gasped feeling him change position slightly allowing him to pull all the way out before sliding all the way in again, "Don't worry," I panted, "It's a complement, trust me."

"Donkey Kong was my nickname at school," he said, slowing slightly and I detected that he might have received some bullying at his all boys school. Being a teacher I was trained to recognise it and deal with it.

I started to gasp and move myself back and forward in time with his thrusts, "They must have been sooooo jealous," I gasped letting him know how much I was enjoying this long screwing.

"Jealous?" his level of pounding started to speed up again

"Oh fuck yeah," I cried out in ecstasy, adding a little tremble, "most girls love a man with a sense of humour, but fucking hell, a good laugh is nooooo substitute for good fuck and jeeeezus you are a good fuck..."

"Really?" I had been telling him for weeks how great his equipment was and how well, with my careful tuition, he used it.

"Really Darling," I said, "All of those guys that tried to score points off of taking the piss out of you would have given a hand to have a penis like the one you are banging in and out of me now. If you ever want to destroy a man's self-confidence, point at his groin and laugh like the kid from the Simpsons does."

He giggled, "Yeah," he said, "I suppose you're right."

"I'm a woman, of course I am, so shut the fuck up and fucking well fuck my sexy little arse off."

"Of course Miss," he said.

I had prepared myself to fake another orgasm, but my acting and the discussion had inspired him into greater efforts and I let myself go, and came anyway for real. It had obviously had the desired effect on him and I felt him rise on his toes and guessed he was getting the desired friction on his frenulum and felt him tense, grasp my arse harder pulling me back onto his cock as he pumped me full of his come.

We rolled naked onto the bed and held each other slipping easily into sleep; an hour later I felt his come start to trickle out of me. I thought about it staining Mum's mattress, smiled, squeezed my pussy muscles and felt it run down the back of my thighs and form a wet patch on her bed. Sadly it would be dry by Thursday when she would be back in here again, but she might get to see the white stain it left! I drifted back into a comfortable sleep safe and spooned in my brother's strong arms, his hands holding and gently caressing my tits.

I stirred when Tim rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom. The heat of Mum's room was stifling and I pushed the duvet off of me and nodded off again. I woke to the sound of crockery on plates and guessed that he'd prepared breakfast again for me. I thought the best way I could welcome him was for me to roll onto my hands and knees and be ready again.

He pushed the door open calling his usual 'hey sleepy,' adding an 'oooh yeah' when he saw I was ready and in position for him.

He put the tray down and I felt his weight on the bed, his legs either side of mine. "Hey, what's this here," he said, and I looked back over my shoulder to see him staring at the cheeks of my arse, and the faint outline of a red mark on my bottom, the love bite Debs had put their last Saturday -- shit! He sat back on his heels, a little shocked. The only person that could have done it was someone in the same position as him, and he looked worried. My insides churned. 

We hadn't promised ourselves to each other or sworn off of other lovers. Tim knew I wasn't a virgin and I knew that I was his first, his face looked somewhere between heartbroken and betrayed. Honesty was the best policy, "Sit down Tim," I said.

"It's another man isn't it?" he snapped with some of the angry resentment coming out in his voice, "why?" he began to snarl, "am I not..."




The Really Complicated Family Ch. 04



I turned and sat facing him, "No!" I said strongly, "you actually couldn't be further from the truth; it's not another man," I took a deep breath, "It's actually from a woman..."

"A woman?" he said looking more stunned than when he saw the hickey the first time, "but you're not a..." he gulped, "you're not a Lesbian... are you?" he said hopefully. "You said, you said that you weren't..."

I giggled, "No Darling, I'm most certainly not."

"Once or twice Mum said you must be a dyke seeing as you spent so much time with her sister, I didn't realise that you were err..."

"Oh don't worry, when I was doing what I was doing, I was sleeping with men as well,"

He looked at me expectantly. "OK," I said, "You remember little Debbie that err... 'lives' with Aunt Veronica?"

"Yes," he said with a faint smile of remembrance, "the little Scots girl." I nodded, "Good choice Elaine, a very good choice, she had a fantastic arse as I remember."

"Oh yes, tell me about it," I grinned, "Yes, well about ten years ago, when I first started at Uni, Ronnie asked me to stay over for parties and barbeques and things like that. Well," I ran fingers through my hair, "to this day I still can't decide what made me but go with her but after a few drinks and some dirty talk I... that is we... well..." he was grinning at me, "Oh it's easier to say what we did rather than why we did it, but we've had this on/off thing going for about eight years, once, twice occasionally three times a year depending on how many parties Ronnie and the gang put on. For old time's sake and I suppose simply because she's such a great pussy licker we occasionally fall into bed with each other."

Tim was no cunnilingus slouch himself but my 'such a great pussy licker' comment made him sit up a bit and I could see his semi-flaccid penis start to harden just a touch; so I carried on.

"She used to hold the record for making me come in one session," I said leaning back and hugging myself to make my tits stand up, "Christ, but she's good with her tongue; she can corkscrew around my clit and flick my nipples like she had the tongue of a Labrador." I gave a little shudder, "Fuck but's she'd good," I closed my eyes and put a hand over my pussy and gave just the smallest squeeze.

"Tell me more," he said leaning closer.

I sat up and moved closer towards him, "She starts off much like you do, she tells me to strip off then makes me lay back. She strips and lays next to me and we stroke each other and kiss a bit and build up the tension." I started to whisper, "She starts by rubbing the outside of my cunt, just around my labia without so much as touching my insides," he lay next to me, "than she moves over to my bottom and strokes that, sometimes when she has my thighs pushed right up or I'm on my hands and knees she'll give me the occasional spank just to warm things up a bit! Sometimes if I wriggle a bit and try to push her away she ties my hands together behind me..."

He was now lying next to me and had pushed my hand away from my puss and was imitating what I was describing to him. My sessions with Deb were always started very gentle and worked up to a bit of a crescendo of joint tonguing and/or masturbation. For some reason we had never resorted to toys, but in my description to Tim it was the very worst lipstick Lesbian loving that can be seen on any cheap DVD or website these days.

He responded as I hoped he would, and my spare hand that had been pushed to one side was now gently but insistently wanking him as he lay almost across me playing with my sopping quim, while my other pinched and worried at my nipples. I had to say it.

"And you know the best of it -- once I told her about my new lover and his huge cock, she said that she wanted to meet him..."

He stopped playing with me for a second and grinned down into my face. I laughed, "Not just yet though," I said, "At least not until you fucked me rigid in any case!"

We laughed together and he fell over me, gently but firmly spreading my legs with his and levelling his huge cock at my entrance and sliding in, one motion, all the way to my cervix. "Christ!" I hissed, "however good at pussy licking she is, she can't do that," I lay under him grunting, gasping, and calling his name as he brought me to orgasm for the first time that morning.

After I started to come down from this first one, he pushed himself off of me and ordered me on to my hands and knees; I rolled over, and dragged my still trembling legs up under me in the classic doggie position and waited for his entrance. However, I was a bit shocked when I felt HIS teeth in my other buttock and the gentle but firm suck that Debs had given me seven days previously.

"There," he said, as his rested his penis into the crease between the cheeks of my arse, "One to show her."

"Oh yeah," I said, "I'll tell her that Donkey Dick gave it to me. Her choice of words not mine... Oh shit..."

I was cut short and plunged into almost instant ecstasy as I felt him power into me with a single thrust. Debs fisting was good and tremendously exciting as part of the whole night but this, fuck, this was what made it worth being a woman, having periods and putting up with ignorant men telling me I couldn't reverse a car or understand the offside rule. I put one hand to my tits and squeezed just as he dropped a slapping palm on to the my bottom, right where Debs love bite was.

He fucked me for about five minutes bringing me off once more, before he did his usual hand between the shoulder blades, grabbing my arse and pulling me backwards and forwards over his cock so he could fully enjoy the pressure and come. Again, I felt his warm wetness splash around inside my vagina.

Eventually, after a further bout of kissing, he remembered the tray of tea and toast he'd brought with him. We drank luke warm tea and cold toast but I couldn't have cared a fuck less, as I was busy squeezing my pussy muscles to make our joint moisture run out of my cunt and drip onto her bed. We sat close together in companionable silence until, toast devoured I turned to face him and pushed my bare tits against his wiry chest hair.

"Tim, I promise that I won't sleep with any other men -- Debs, well, technically I'm cheating on her with you, but right now but as far as I'm concerned I have room for both of you in my life so long as both of you still have room for me; she doesn't mind at all."

"Did she really say she'd like to meet me?"

"No," I said, "she said she wanted to meet Donkey Dick, she doesn't know that he's you." I stroked his face, "But don't worry, I fully intend to get you two experts together one evening so you can compare notes of fucking me. After all, between the two of you I've had more orgasms, more wonderful, gut wrenching, seat of the pants, come juice orgasms than with everyone else in my life ever." 

We kissed again, then heard Mum stirring and calling from the bottom of the stairs. Tim grabbed his PJ bottoms and pulled them on walking to the rail and leant over to call to her. Knowing what she wouldn't be able to see from her position at the bottom of the stairs, I kitten-crawled between his legs and slid though to lean my back against the tongue and groove boarding that covered the stair balusters. As they talked about shopping lists, and what we were going to eat now I was staying with them for the week, and mending the stair lift, I gently pulled his PJ trousers down until his groin was before me. Grinning up at him a took his soft cock and fed it between my lips and enjoyed the taste of my come on his cock and his semen as I gently sucked him as he chatted with Mum about when he was coming down and what we were going to do for the rest of the day. I didn't know how long he'd let me stay but displaying just the faintest tremble in his voice and the tiniest shudder, I managed to make him come and loose his depleted load between my lips and down my throat, wiping the last bits on my face.

I appeared at the rail in a T-shirt nightdress a few seconds later from the direction of Mum's room wiping the last of his come from my cheek and lips and smiling down to Mum and wishing her a good morning -- somehow I didn't think it was going to be as good as mine!



The Really Complicated Family Ch. 05



It was quiet few days for the three of us; Tim and I trying to find a few minutes to be together and Mum detecting something in the air; I'm not sure whether she picked up on the sexual tension between us or if it was a new feeling of... closeness?

It must have been that. Previously it had been about sex or the excitement of the build up to it. But it was becoming more and more evident that we just enjoyed each-others company. 

Our relationship had been OK up to our teens. After all, once taken away from Dad and the rest of our family, we were all that we had. My hormones came along when I was twelve and I became a woman; moving away from all those closest to me had made me grow up quite quick anyway. 

Tim's on the other hand were very, very late and, while he was eventually to be extremely well endowed in later years, his hormones came five or six years after mine, and two kids that had been really close drifted simply because one had her adulthood thrust her while the other spent much of his mid teens still reading comic books and dreaming about the model railway that was actually in the attic all the time.

But I was away for the time when I should have been around, and could have helped Tim growing up and getting out into the world. This was thanks to my desire, no NEED to put distance between Mum and I. I only saw him four or five times a year; then after graduation and our falling out I was totally estranged from him and Mum for about eight years while they carried on their very own strange way of life. 

When Mum had her first stroke, we hadn't talked or exchanged so much as a birthday card. I knew by that stage that any cards I sent Tim would end up in a shoe box in the loft so sent them to him via the student union office at Manchester Polytechnic, then the Arts department were he'd got a job. He reciprocated on my birthday and we kind of stayed in touch though Aunt Veronica. 

It was thanks to Ron that I found out about the stroke.

By that time Tim had grown into a man, had gone through adolescence, matured up to a point and had basically 'caught up with me'. Once we had 'cleared the air' between us, it was like the intervening years had disappeared and we just started where we had left off a bit less than twenty years ago on that day my period started. I had met an old school friend, some guy I'd not seen since childhood and was seeing him in a new light.

It turned out we laughed at the same jokes, liked that same movies (while Mum was in hospital we occasionally went to the cinema to watch them) read the same books and had the same social outlook on life. Mum didn't and resented that we did. I think she had an inkling that my relationship with Tim might have moved in the same kind of direction that hers had and for that reason she was desperate to regain her access to upstairs to find out.

This now left the matter of where I was going to sleep. The previous week I had said to them both that I did not want to sleep on the sofa again as it was so uncomfortable. On a personal note neither did I want my room back as it would mean that if Tim and I wanted sex at any time we'd lose the benefit of a floor and a noisy stair lift to let us know Mum was on the prowl.

It was decided that the front room would remain a spare room, much to Mum's chagrin. She whined that Tim should put his model railway back in the loft so I could have 'my' room back; back to normal, readily under surveillance and just how she wanted everyone. 

Tim came up with the perfect option. The large, high orthopaedic bed he'd purchased for her would be brought upstairs. Mum's old bed (and Tim's copious semen stains I worked so hard to spread over it) would go to the rubbish tip and he would buy one of those folding sofa beds for the downstairs sitting room, to bring it back into daily use after all this time.

Mum, I could see, was struggling with that. To try and cheer her up Tim said he would put another TV in their so they had the option of not having to watch the same programme, (she loved soaps and he hated them) and she could use it as a day bed. 

Other than not being able to find out what we were doing to each other, the main reason Mum was having such an internal battle was the remnants of her lower middle class English concept of 'The front room', which was the best room, never used, kept for high days and holidays and not to be entered for any reason. Which is what it had been for my whole life, in fact, when I came home to visit her in there it was the first time I'd so much as seen the pattern of the terrible wallpaper in there. Fortunately Tim had removed it and repainted before he installed Mum in the room.

That was that; We threw ourselves into action that first weekend. He phoned a music shop in town and sold the upright piano that had sat unplayed and untouched for all of my life. Mum tried to complain but Tim simply said there was no room and it was pointless keeping it if we could money for it. She shut up for the time being.

The men collecting it smiled and expertly wheeled the thing out of the house, and while the tail-lift was lowered the older of the two men unlocked it, played a few dramatic chords that were slightly flat then announced it would take a bit of a retune but had a fantastic tone. It was the first time I'd ever seen the lid lifted and for the life of me I could never understand why we'd had it. I expect that Grandma Lawrence said that all 'nice' houses had one. 

Next we went to a large furniture shop with a very ungracious Mum in tow we ordered a fine looking sofa bed. Mum complained about the price but I said that as I would be using it most I would pay for it. She grumbled something like 'about time you paid for something' but I let it go.

On Thursday I took Mum out as promised to buy a new rug and Tim put the fuse back into the chair lift. By chatting with a college maintenance man he'd also worked out a method of fitting a small buzzer to the power button so it gave out a low warning buzz when ascending or descending. Tim's explanation would be that the stair width meant that the engineer had to fit a buzzer for reasons of health and safety. Even I thought it made sense and I knew it was rubbish!

Tim took her orthopaedic bed to bits and used the lift to carry it upstairs in time for the council to come and collected the old one.

Once back and 'you've JUST missed the repair man', we laid the new carpet we'd bought, and finally put in the new sofa, a big second-hand colour TV complete with a video player. The dark dingy 'best room' had gone and I finally had my own space in my childhood home again after all those years. 

While this was going on Mum, sitting on her chair like she was the Queen Mother, still bitching about the loss of her 'best room', complaining about the buzzer and that it would be enough to give her a headache, ascended. 

Tim had told her the story that the engineer had said that it was a legal requirement and the lift would stop working if it was deactivated. This also had more than a smack of reality about it as the man from the gas company had told her that it would be against the law if she used her gas heater with the 'drafty' air vent blocked again, and had left her with a form explaining all about carbon monoxide.

"I suppose it makes good sense," she said with extremely bad grace, as she whined her way to the top of the stairs for the first time in over six months. The light and space hit her full on and I don't thunk she knew whether to be happy or sad. The miserable green, browns and creams the house had been decorated in for the last twenty years had gone and were replaced with yellow, white, blue and apple. But she finally realised that her reign over her family had ended, and what was worse I looked likely to be the if not the Queen at least the King's chosen consort.

Listening to her tut-tutting and sighing from upstairs we talked excitedly about our first movie night - I even suggested renting some porn, something neither of us had even seen before! 

Having taken my last pill a couple of nights before I hoped desperately that my withdrawal bleed would hold off one more night so we could christen the new bed. I'd felt the familiar gentle glow within my womb and the tiny patch of light brown discharge in my knickers that told me the next day I would come on in earnest.

I told Tim and without further ado, he bent me over the end of the unfolded sofa bed we had been inspecting, raised my denim skirt and pushed me forward so my knees rested in the mattress, and putting his knees either side of mine released that huge cock of his from his jeans and rested it between my arse cheeks while he pushed his trousers and boxers down. Satisfied that all was ready he pulled down my knickers and in no time I felt his hard mushroom headed cock force a path through the faintly damp skin at the entrance to my cunt. After a few thrusts he was in me and powering in and out, having generated my moisture himself. I gasped trying to withhold my groans from Mum who was pottering around in her bedroom reacquainting herself with her drawers and cupboards and bits and pieces, not believing that the post war utility furniture Tim had painted white was the same stuff she'd been given when she first married Dad.

I was getting down to what I knew I would miss for the next week, and let Tim use me how he would; knowing that I was trying not to make too much noise he slapped my arse occasionally and chuckled at my hissed admonitions to him not to alert Mum. For his part his slid a pussy wet thumb into my arse and wriggled it until he was quite successfully pushing the shaft of his cock on my G-spot and I cried out in orgasm. He kept on fucking me, until he too reached his climax spilling himself deep into me, the last of his come would trickle out with the first blood of my unused, discarded womb lining when I went to the bathroom an hour later.

We slept apart that night for the first time that week and I did feel the tiniest bit lonely. I hoped that Tim would creep down in the night but we'd both been really busy the days before with shopping, furniture moving and getting Mum to shut the fuck up.

I woke refreshed on a sunny Friday morning, and while I'd reminded Tim several times that it was the time of the month, he did his usual and I woke to find him at the foot of my bed, naked but for his boxer shorts tented by his huge cock, with toast, a mug of tea and a big smile.

He knelt on the bed with a grin and handed my tea over. I sat up and took the cup from him, I couldn't help but grin at his cheeky smile and ever hopeful countenance.

"Tim," I said, "it's my time of the month, you can't have me today darling,"

"Oh, that's OK, I know what to do when it's time of the month, I won't put it in there, I'll do what I did with Mum." He said expectantly.

"Oh OK then, you can do it," I said with a hint of resignation in my voice.

"Can you pull your knickers down a little bit?" he asked hopefully but with an extra glint in his eye.

I guessed what he wanted to do and grinned.

"Oh alright then," I chuckled and listening for the whine of the chair lift, slipped my panties off (like everyone I wore tampons in those days) and pulled my nightdress T-shirt over my head. Drinking the last of my tea, I knelt on the bed and prepared myself for the inevitable wanking session that would result in a gallon of his come splashing from my arse to my shoulders depending on how excited he was.

I lay there for a moment wondering what was keeping him, annoyed for a moment by my morning hair continually falling over my face. I reached to the bedside table and found my hairband and dropping to my elbows used my now free hands to tie back my hair and as I did so he returned and I felt his weight on the bed and his legs kneel either side of mine and I settled my weight on my elbows and knees, closed my eyes and laid my head on my folded arms and without turning back I purred in a little girl sing-songy voice,

"OK, Timmy, I'm all yo-ours!"

"Oh yeeeeah," he breathed, "I haven't done this in aaages." He said putting his hand in the small of my back to hold me down. Both he and Debs knew this was something I really liked. Next I felt his prick resting in the crack of my arse as he had done quite a few times now. I was so relaxed that I only just heard his voice.

I was about to remonstrate with him that he'd started fucking me a few months ago and I'd let him come on my arse a couple of times at least during that time. It was a good job I was so relaxed for as I opened my mouth to speak I felt his cock slide back between my buttocks and then in one quick movement he was pushing his long penis against my anus and he slid almost all the way in with one slow, strong but amazingly gentle stroke!

"Oh shit," I gasped feeling a little pain, as my body tensed at his intrusion, "Tim... Darling," I said, unsure of what to do and whether to let him have my arse. Tim for his part, had started to very gently fuck just the tip of his well lubricated cock in and out of my arsehole whether I had anything to say about it or not. Fighting the urge to tense up, I made myself relax and felt his hands take a grip of my bottom in the same way he did when he took me on my hands and knees in my pussy, so I decided to let him use me as he obviously had Mum. Funnily enough he had never mentioned this aspect of their sexual relationship before, and as I lay there getting more and more turned on by his intrusion, thought it might not honestly have come up. 

But Tim was just really matter of fact about the anal sex, and continued pushing in and out of my rear hole.

"You OK Lainey?" he said, starting to work further into my bottom as I'd encouraged him to do when doggie fucking me.

"Yes," I gasped, "I'm fine Tim," my voice shaking with the pounding that my body was starting to receive from my brother the stud, "do you know something Tim?" I panted, feeling the strangest full yet sexy feeling I'd ever known.

"What," he replied.

"We're equal now."

"Equal?" he said slowing up.

"I took your cherry, You've just taken my anal virginity..."

"What?" he gasped, stopping his action for a second, "What? You mean... you've never had it... up this one..."

"Nope," I panted, pushing my shoulders into the bed and leaning back to get more of him further inside me, "not once, not never. Couple of boyfriends" (I didn't think I needed to mention girlfriend,) "asked me to, or played with my back hole but you are the very first to get his dick in there." I closed my eyes and turned my head so he could see my smiling face.

"Wow," said Tim with a raise in his voice, "wow, that is so great... shit, what an honour. Thank you Elaine," he said, "thank you for letting me be your first!"

"Didn't notice you asking me if you could Tim," I gasped, grasping the sheets and getting into the buggery I was receiving, "but I'm not complaining and, to be honest," I said, "I'm glad it's you."

"I'll see you enjoy it then," he said and putting one hand in the small of my back (he knew this turned me on) he grasped my thigh with the other and started to pull himself in and out of my arse giving me the full length of my cock in and out, in and out until I was totally wrapped up in anal sex.

I knew from the slight swelling he was getting close and wanted desperately to come with him. So snaking a hand under me and between my thighs I found my clit and started to stroke it vigorously. His gasps announced that he was nearly there I rushed to catch him up before he spilled his copious gift into my bowels.

Just in time I joined him as he gasped and panted through his orgasm, and I felt the warm wetness of his come spill deep into my tightest hole. 

"Anal virginity gone Tim," I gasped wriggling my arse to let him know I was still there, "thanks Darling."

"You are most fucking welcome Lainey," he giggled pulling his huge but now deflating cock slowly out of me.

He disappeared for a few moments then returned with some soft wipes and toilet tissue and cleaned me up. We lay there recovering, my bottom tingling slightly and enjoying the warmth of his semen still in there. 

It transpired that he'd once gone to her room for 'cock time' and she'd told him she was 'on'. Unaccustomed to being turned down by Mum he had apparently whined about his aching balls and the need to relieve the pressure in them.

"Oh for heaven's sake," she had grumbled, "use the other one then, but go easy it isn't really designed for that."

Tim said he would have settled for a wank but obviously having felt that massive cock of his wielded from behind she wasn't going to let a little thing like the last gasps of her menstrual cycle hold things up. She had reached an age when periods were few and far between and hard to predict, but still copious and painful.

At least that was what she'd told him. Her age and his description and lack of any sign of sanitary towel or string of a tampon made me think that on the first occasion it had been because she was on, but once she'd been buggered by him that was that, and she had a little bit of him 'around the tradesman's entrance' when the feeling took her.

Initially lubricating herself with Vaseline, she soon moved on to KY jelly and the tube must have sat in their bathroom cabinet until he needed it, today.

We lay together and discussed our liaison, I promised that the next time I came and saw him, three weeks from now, I'd be well and truly over my period and ready for him to fuck me properly in the hole he was meant to go in.

"But I can use your bottom every now and again can't I?" he grinned.

I moved slightly to get my tea, and felt the hot come move in me,

"Now you've been kind enough to introduce me to that particular pleasure it would be rude of me not to let you..." I paused, as much for my brain as his, "to let you fuck my arse."

"It is such a fantastic arse after all," he said with grin, taking my mug and sipping some of my tea.

"Compliments like that will get you everywhere," I said.

"I do hope so," he grinned handing me my mug. He leaned in to kiss my lips when we both heard the whine, now feeling like a drone almost as if it was Mum herself, of the chair lift bringing her downstairs to see what we were up to, five minutes too late. 

Tim had more than enough time to get his boxers back on and drop the tissues into my bin, take my empty tray and leave the room to meet Mum almost all the way down. I walked out of the room shaking my nightdress T-shirt down over my well-fucked bottom as she reached the end of her ride.

After a night's sleep, a mug of tea and my first experience of being buggered I really needed the bathroom! I wished Mum a good morning and trotted past her up the stairs pulling my T-shirt across my bottom not wishing to flash her anything, realising at the last minute that all this would do was show her that I wasn't wearing any panties. 

Then reaching the bathroom I thought, 'fuck it, if it gives her a few weeks of groaning and bitching to herself then all the better'. It would keep her brain active at least. 

When I got to the bathroom I sat down in relief, and did what I had to. Standing up, I looked in the bathroom cabinet for the lube and saw the tube of KY jelly, just slightly out of place from where it had rested innocently and hidden for at least two years. Feeling that devilry in me that had made me talk to her in her sleep, I turned it from how it had sat anonymously side on, so the blue of the tube and the 'KY' leapt out. The cabinet was the girly one and had shampoos and conditioners, moisturisers, cold cream, make-up remover and other 'women's tubes' and chances are Tim wouldn't look in it until he wanted to fuck my arse again.

By the time I trotted back down the stairs, washed, brushed and ready to face the day, Mum was in the kitchen eating her breakfast. I dressed in my denim skirt of the day before and, like a school girl pushing boundaries, I rolled the top of the denim to shorten the skirt by a couple of inches and it sat nicely on the curve of my bottom.




The Really Complicated Family Ch. 05



I made sure whenever Tim was in the room, that I bent at the waist as often as possible and I could see from the surprised but pleased look in his eye and his occasional glance at Mum he was impressed with the view. My knickers were big enough to wear while going through menstruation but I had pulled the back high to cup and caress the arse he'd got to know so well that morning. 

We went shopping and Mum insisted this time that she didn't need the wheelchair. As Tim had predicted half way around the huge store, he complained of pains in her hips and that she felt faint. Not so faint that Tim couldn't run to the main entrance and get the wheelchair we'd asked her to use in the first place.

Because we wanted to celebrate our weeks work, we bought steak, and Mum complained that she couldn't afford such luxury, still suffering under the misapprehension that the housing benefit and her meagre pension was paying all the bills and Tim has some kind of 'little job' that went towards the odds and ends. Little did she know that his wage dwarfed her pension and they hadn't received housing benefit in years, and more so, the house was Tim's and it was thanks to Dad and Nanny Barnes bequest to Tim that their standard of living had improved so much. Had she of known of course she probably would have spat the steak out and eaten bread and cheese to show how cross she was.

We grilled the steak and Tim went to the local take away and bought a mountain of chips. We ate with gusto even having a bottle of a very nice red wine, Mum complaining about the expense and wastefulness of it all. For that reason Tim waited for Mum to go to bed before he went to the fridge and brought out the cheesecake, leaving it on the plate and just bringing two spoons. We ate the whole thing laying on my bed watching my favourite romantic movie, 'When Harry met Sally' just holding hands.

When I'm on, I rarely feel that sexy and explained to Tim that even though I was sure he was safe to plough my particular furrow, I wasn't actually in the mood and he understood. But he did take a great interest in the mechanics of the process and the tampon and pads and I removed my skirt and lowered my knickers so he could see what was going on. I did think about perhaps giving him a blow job but my tummy was aching and I didn't even want to go through the energy of that simple act. We woke really early next to each other on Saturday morning, still half dressed. Fortunately the few glasses of wine Mum had drunk had pretty much knocked her out, and Tim was able to get to his bed undisturbed for another hour. 

I got up and decided to have a shower, leaving the both wine glasses and both pillows with signs of use. I hung a scarf on the inside door handle as I pulled it shut.

As I luxuriated under the hot water, I heard some chatter as she obviously checked in on Tim then the whine of the chair lift as she descended. By the time I got back to what Mum had taken to calling 'the guest room' she was in the kitchen grumbling about the drunkenness of the night before and the over sleeping. The wine bottle was rinsed and in the garden ready to be taken to the bottle bank, so the only indication would have been the two glasses in my room.

I felt around the door and silk scarf was gone, the handle must have been turned and the door opened. It was only two wine glasses, but enough to get her nasty over active imagination going at light speed. She was really starting to look askance at me more often now. I confess I did little to disprove her correct reading of the situation, leaving a few clues that taken individually meant nothing, almost.

We all jumped into my car and I drove out of Manchester heading to the rival county of Yorkshire and drove out in the greens of the countryside around the Vale of York just for a change from the Lancastrian gloom. We stopped and had lunch, including some alcohol for those not driving. Mum nodded off after lunch and as we drove through the lush greenery I whispered to Tim (just not wishing to wake Mum) about a holiday this year; I meant for all of us.

I noticed in my rear view mirror that Mum's eyelashes flickered just too much. Tim said that it would be nice but we'd need to get passports; I had one already and he'd meant 'Me and Mum'. I could see her trying not to show she was awake and I carried on whispering in a voice I calculated would half travel to the back seat. I talked about HOT NIGHTS, shorts and BIKINI'S and that I wanted to get an ALL OVER TAN, and, because we were taking MUM we'd need to go full BOARD, so there wasn't too much HARD WORK. I closed by saying BOTH OF US should pay so MUM didn't have to spend HER money. Tim smiled and said what a great idea it was and he was looking forward to it.

I could see her face tensing in the concentration of trying to pick up on a conversation she was only getting a few words, Finally I put a hand on his knee and said, would should GET ON WITH booking it.

Mum decided to wake up at that point, and declared that she needed to go. We stopped in a small town, found, a local tea shop and had a cream tea. The intrigue had added to my appetite and I had mine and ordered a second. It was time of the month after all

I don't know why I was so keen for her to know what we were doing... fuck it, yes I do, I was angry that this woman had fucked up mine and Tim's lives by dragging us away from the people that would have kept us normal. Don't get me wrong, I'm really proud of what I've achieved thanks to my own work, but I lay in my lonesome bed that night thinking of what might have been; We'd both have been married with children and in the bosom of our families, Dad's cancer symptoms might have been noticed quicker as he wouldn't have been suffering with depression and anxiety at us being taken from him. My eyes filled with tears, as I tried to fight off yesterday's ghosts.

I went upstairs to the bathroom, why I don't know because there was a downstairs cloakroom. I flushed and washed my hands and it came to me that that both Tim's and Mum's bedroom doors were ajar. I couldn't hear Mum's annoying grunting snore, and wondered if she was awake. Just the thought of it, that snore, that thing that was everything about Mum - short, small, irritating, never ending and the years I'd been kept awake by it brewed and stewed. The anger and hatred not of Mum but what Mum had been and had done boiled up and caught in my throat. I was minded to go into her room again and tell her but finally settled on a different plan.

In the bathroom I took off my knickers and T-shirt draping them over my shoulder, opening the bathroom door BEFORE switching off the light. I moved silently into the shadows stopping at Tim's door. I waited for almost a minute looking at him asleep and half wishing I could get in next to him, before moving into the brightness of the moonlight and street lamps at the top of the stair knowing that I'd be visible from where Mum lay - if he was awake of course.

I hunched my shoulders, waved into the darkness of Tim's room to where he lay sound asleep and blew an extravagant kiss to him wriggling girlishly and turning and pointing my bare bum back at him, giving it a playful, silent slap, then turning back to wag an admonishing finger at him. Preparing the finale, I put my hands on my hips, leant forward to make my tits stand out, looked shocked at whatever he might silently have suggested before waving my hand back at him as if indicating 'no you can't' adding a wagged finger to indicate he was a bad boy. 

I tapped my wrist where my watch would have been, jerked my thumb into Mum's room, made a yackety-yak motion with my hand, dropped my head to one side and put my arms around me in a 'hug' motion before blowing him one more kiss. I then stepped on the stairs pausing to look lovingly back over my shoulder, and daintily trotted down the stairs to my room where I put my knickers back on and lay on my bed. Marcel Marceau would have been proud of my little performamce. 

Fired by revenge and any amount of emotions I masturbated myself to a very nice orgasm and drifted to sleep.

After my morning shower I put on the same perfume I'd worn for Tim when we first made love, and he reacted to it, his face breaking into his familiar smile I was getting so used to seeing. Mum sniffed, and gave me a look like she had twelve years ago. I was waiting for her to call me a slut again. I cooked a lamb joint for lunch and Mum complained, she'd had steak on Friday, and you couldn't have that much meat in one weekend as it wasn't decent. I now realise that 

I was starting to leave her out of the conversation talking to Tim in a 'does she take sugar' kind of way that the elderly and disabled complain of so often. 

When I kissed them both goodbye that afternoon, I let my hand linger on Tim's arm for just too long, and smiled and whispered to him. Mum looked furious and her peck on my cheek was cursory to say the least. Ah well, payback's a bitch I thought as I headed my little VW back towards the M1 and south for home.

Nearly a fortnight later I lay quietly in my bed at my house watching a late film, and my newly installed bedside phone rang. It was Tim and far from the usual discussions we had these days now he had a bedside phone; Mum had suffered a massive stroke and wasn't expected to recover. With the phone wedged under my ear I started to grab my clothes and dress. The panic in his voice was real and gave me wings.

Throwing together a small bag of clothes I rang the school phone number content that I would get the answer phone and left a short message for the head. It was a Wednesday night and as fate would have it we were a month short of the summer holidays and a six week break, and I promised that I'd be back bright and early from the following Monday.

Then with a second thought I rang Auntie Ronnie.

"Sorry to ring so late Ronnie," I said controlling the concern in my voice.

"That's OK Darling," butted in Ron, used to the vagaries of the female sub-conscious and hearing the emotional tone in my voice added, "You after Debs?"

"No Ronnie," I said, "It's Mum, she's had a massive stroke, she's not..."

"Stay where you are, I'll pick you up on the way through Darling," she said and within seconds had put down the phone.

I knew in my heart that it would be better if Ronnie drove; she would be a lot calmer than me. I made a flask of tea and some sandwiches for the four hour drive north. Ronnie was with me in half an hour and after locking my front door I walked down the drive.

"Where is she?" said Ronnie.

"Manchester Royal Infirmary," I said, fastening my seatbelt as she pulled out of the small cul-de-sac I lived in.

"Right," she said, "We'll get to Manchester then worry about finding our way to the hospital then."

Once on the M1 we chatted as we normally did but there was that unspoken tension in the air that whatever happened this would not end well. 

I asked after Debs, and with a grin she let me know that Debs was doing fine and getting done into the bargain.

"You and Viv," I said, "you don't mind me... err... sharing?" I said. This was actually the first time I had acknowledged that we occasionally shared a bed and in doing so each other.

"Of course not Darling," she burst out, "the three of us are like family, and well you actually are family so that's that. You're both big girls anyway and able to look after yourselves, and what's more I trust her with you, and you with her." She looked sidelong at me, "Although I must confess Viv is occasionally jealous, she fancies you like hell!"

"Viv!?!" I burst out. The tall elegant, svelte and incredibly sensual woman that could make digging the garden look like a sexual act fancied me?

"Definitely Viv," Ron giggled, "have you never noticed her checking you out?"

"No," I said surprised, "She... well she always seems so... well so sophisticated and..."

"Sophisticated she might be Darling, but you are old to want to yet still young enough to be young." I waded through the words and the meaning, "and Debs does the cruel thing of never discussing how good you are."

"She... what?"

"Look, we are all lovers, we occasionally discuss what it was like with each other, with close friends but Debs knows that Viv fancies the fuck out of you, and has never so much as admitted to what you do. The walls are quite thin actually so we can pretty much work it out."

I smiled; I don't know that I ever thought about 

what Debs did or said about me while I wasn't there, but to know that she kept my secret was nice – even if it was just to torture one of her girlfriends. 

Ronnie continued, "Whenever we realised or worked out that Debs had had you, Viv would go into her room at bedtime and grab her – as you've probably guessed Debs is a bit of a closet 'sub' and likes nothing more than occasionally going over someone's knee to put her back on the straight and narrow. The evening after the last time you... err... 'came' shall we say? Well, she went upstairs, had a bath and put on the cutest racy, lacy babydoll set, walked into the living room all pink, perfect and made-up and sat between us. 

Viv wanted to know what the pair of you did and knew that Debs wouldn't tell her." Ronnie laughed at the recollection, "As you can guess the pair of them went on for about twenty minutes. Eventually Debs looked Viv in the face and calmly announced how many times she'd made you come that night. Then, for reasons we can only guess at?" Ron looked at me with another sideways grin, "she made a fist that she stroked, smiled and pecked us both on the cheek and said goodnight. I looked at Viv, Viv looked at me and she stood up. She got to the door and turned and said 'Unless you want too of course?' I grinned, shook my head and indicated she should go ahead. I could hear the smacks, gasps and giggles four doors away."

"And was that because of me?"

"No," said Viv, "Debs was horny anyway, but when you play fem/dom games it's always nice to have the tiniest element of real life in it. You happened to be that bit of realism and something Debs could get a nice pink bottom about." 

I felt my face flush and my pussy swell, OK I've had a few swats on my behind making love lots of times, but never been minded to spank or be spanked but the twin thought of grabbing the luscious little Debs and flopping her over my knee, or being grabbed and flopped over Viv's while she tanned my curvy behind made me forget Mum and Tim for a moment. 

As if reading my mind Ronnie added, "so If you ever fancy branching out 'Vivwards', I can honestly say she'd bite your hand off, well not so much bite, but you get my drift."

I did, but I chuckled and said I'd have to think about it – Viv was beautiful and sensual, while Debs was gorgeous and sexy, a big difference.

After a quiet moment while I poured tea from the flask then opened the bag of sandwiches, she asked me how my love life was going. I had been on a couple of 'mates-dates' with one of the guys from the school, just so we didn't have to go to the cinema on our own. 

After all I couldn't tell her that other than my regular sojourn to the Sapphic delights of Camden every four months or so, my recent sexual history up until a few months back was a joint but secret exhibitionist/voyeur masturbating session at Mum's place with my own brother, followed by joint masturbation ending with him wanking over my arse and tits at mine. The last thing I was going to admit was that I was now getting fantastically and regularly fucked by him.

Mum's place; suddenly the thought that the passing of Mum would mean our cosy little relationship and its secret would end also. Next thing I knew was me waking up and Ronnie's car pulling into one of the hundreds of empty spaces in the car park of the Manchester Royal Infirmary.

We walked to the accident and emergency department in silence but holding each other's hands. A nurse on reception pointed us towards a side room where we found Tim sat beside a big hospital bed with the quietly sleeping form of Mum lying comfortably and at peace.

"Miss Barnes?"

I turned,

"Yes," I said looking at the doctor in his white coat stood in the doorway.

"Your mother had a massive stroke. I'm afraid there is nothing we can do for her. I'm terribly sorry Miss Barnes but it's only the machines keeping your mother alive and, once you and your brother are ready we really need to think about switching them off."

"OK," I said after a pause, "oh, excuse me," I said, "I must introduce my aunt..."

"Actually," said Ronnie, "I'm Miss Lawrence, and actually I'm Mrs Barnes' eldest daughter..."

After an embarrassing silence only broken by the Doctor saying he'll have a nurse check in on us periodically, he left me and Ronnie to stand by the entrance to Mum's room.

"Sorry Darling," said Ronnie, "You Mum and your grandparents made me promise never to tell you, but," she sniffed with the first real emotion I'd ever seen from her, "well... with the passing of your Mum, you and Tim are all the real family I have left."

I put an arm around this beautiful woman I had admired from a far and hugged her like the sister I'd always wanted.

We went in to the room and embraced Tim, who explained just what the Doctor had told us. I sent him off to the machine in the foyer for a coffee and some fresh air so Ronnie and I could sit and have some time with Mum.

"She..." Ronnie started, "that is Mum had me when she was fifteen. She'd had an affair with her cousin – I never found our which one – assuming that is one of our second cousins. Anyway I was brought up by Grandma Lawrence, constantly reminded by that evil old cow that I wasn't the same as everyone else, and raised as if I was a family embarrassment, left at home during family gatherings and weddings and stuff and never allowed to meet extended family, hardly any presents at Christmas, proper Oliver Twist stuff, but while living with my grandmother.

As I grew up I wanted her... I wanted Mum to recognise me for who I was and show me some love. She'd been married to your Dad by then and you were about two. Grandpa Lawrence had died and he was the only one that loved me for who I was, and your Dad was so lovely I asked him if I could join your family." She had fat tears running down her face as she carried on, "he said he thought that would be lovely and that he'd ask Mum and Grandma, he didn't know you see, I suppose he thought I was some niece or granddaughter that stayed with her for some reason. That old cow was fucking strange after all. 

Well, he did ask Mum and Grandma and they both went mad at him, I don't think he ever knew the reason. A week later I was sent to boarding school and never saw your dad again," Her bottom lip began to tremble, "I'm so sorry Lainey, I think I ruined your family..." her last word went into a whisper hush she broke down in tears, and I put my arms around my sister and hugged her.

That explained everything; why we went from a happy family one moment to Mum hating Dad with her every fibre. Ronnie was right – what I remember of Grandma Lawrence, she was the total opposite of Nanny Barnes. Cold, stern, aloof, almost Victorian in her ways, the idea of her darling teenage daughter bringing such shame on the family as to have a child out of wedlock by a relation at the time she should have been leaving school to move on to a career before settling down with Mr Right.

I could only guess at the terrible time Ronnie must have had as a young child, and seeing her mother loving me could only have served to tear her young heart in two. As I suspected, Dad hadn't slept around at all and probably went to his grave not knowing what he had done, in all innocence, to turn his loving wife and his strange mother so much against him in so little time.




The Really Complicated Family Ch. 05



I sat there in the hospital room looking across at my dying mother and it all made sense. 

Grandma Lawrence, nasty and cold; Mum seeking some kind of warmth and affection from a cousin gets pregnant at a tender age. Treated like a pariah by her family, baby Veronica is taking on by Grandma to spare the shame of having to give her up for adoption but treated like an outcast her whole life knowing what a disappointment she was and not knowing love.

Ronnie went to an all-girls boarding school, finding a sense of belonging and friendship, leaving with great A-levels and a penchant for her own sex, qualified for Cambridge and stayed in education – anything to mean that she wouldn't have to go 'home'.

She returned to the family home, never hers, just once more for the funeral of Grandma Lawrence, which was where I first met her and was introduced to the bright but distant, fantastically sophisticated cosmopolitan woman who was my 'Aunt'. 

Mum, I now realised, was terrified that this woman with whom she had only corresponded through birthday cards when she remembered could blow her and Grandma's façade off of the refined but really grubby pretence of a happy family in front of the whole congregation at this tiny village church were Grandma her worshipped so hypocritically for so many years.

I now knew why Mum seemed angry rather than sad that day and why our journey south was so full of snapped orders and barked telling's off. It also made sense of Mum talking to Ronnie like she was a naughty and wayward younger sister, and needed keeping in line. Ronnie had never done anything wrong in her life, other than be born into my family.

Veronica was a new person to most there, and clever enough to ignore the shocked faces of the three or four elderly women who stared at her and chatted coven-like as soon as she had turned her back, nodding at Mum, who didn't, or at least chose not to, notice.

Ronnie would later tell me she went to the funeral with one intention, to spit on Grandma Lawrence's grave, returning later that night much the worse for the booze she'd drunk at her hotel. Crying in hysterical silence she was minded to raise her skirt and piss on it, but it was next to Grandpa Lawrence who was the only person she'd ever loved so she decided just to spit, adding a fine string of venomous abuse and the last of her half bottle of vodka, suggesting that tea total Grandma Lawrence would need as she was surely burn in a hell of her own devising.

I held my half-sister-half-second cousin tight while she recovered her breath. Here we were; an angry Lesbian, an angry, disappointed bi-sexual that couldn't sustain a relationship with a man and ended up screwing her own brother, who's only other sexual partner had been his mother. Shit, it couldn't get any more fucked up if we tried.

Tim came back into the room carrying two cups of coffee and handed them both across to us. The revelation had to come and by Christ, it was going to happen with Mum in the room. It was only fair he knew the whole truth.

"Tim, I'd like you to meet someone," Tim looked around the room, "Tim this is your eldest sister Ronnie."

Tim looked at Ronnie, saw her red eyes and taking her coffee cup knelt on the floor and hugged her for ages. At the moment I was so proud of him, so proud in fact I knelt and hugged the pair of them. From the corner of my eye I noticed a nurse peek around the door seeing us embracing, smiled and walked to where the Doctor was stood. He appeared at the door.

"We're ready now Doctor," said Ronnie, and silently he moved towards the various machines and turned them off.

"She'll just drift off," said the doctor, "no pain. She's already left the party guys," he said with a soft smile, "It's just the last of faint sounds of the waltz you can hear." He bowed slightly to Mum and then to us and left us. We sat, none of us knowing when she died. According to the Doctor technically it had been five hours ago.

He came back and told us that he had issued all of the paperwork that meant we could arrange Mum's funeral. They gave us the number for the local Co-op funeral director and even rang them to come and collect Mum and take her to their chapel of rest.

We followed the trolley out to the black van and saw Mum into it for the last time, as the sun came up.

"Well, I don't know about you two," said Ronnie the redness in her face fading, "But I'm fucking starving, is there a good breakfast café round her somewhere Timbo?"

"Err yeah," he said bleary eyed, "that there is, follow me!" We left Ronnie's car in the hospital car park and walked across the road to a parade of shops were a small café was just opening up for the morning trade, it was a little after six.

"Good Morning!" said Ron to the owner who was starting up a huge grill, she looked up at the menu board behind him, "Three of the biggest full English breakfasts you can make please, and three mugs of tea while we wait."

We sat at the counter and he placed the mugs of tea before us, telling us the meals would be ready in about five minutes. He looked at our red faces,

"You just come from the hospital?" he said. We nodded, "Please accept my deepest sympathy for your loss," he said refilling our almost empty tea mugs and we thanked him, "aww, you're not my first and you sure as hell ain't going to be my last. Still no more pain at least." He turned to his grill and flipped the six eggs on the grill expertly and without breaking one of them.

I looked at Ronnie and Tim and raised my tea mug in salute to my sister and brother,

"No more pain guys," I said.

"No more pain," said Ronnie.

"None whatsoever," said Tim.

Mum's funeral was in Manchester, Ronnie had contacted some of Mum's family and a couple of them came north for the service. In discussion with one of Mum's cousins I found out the name of the cemetery that Grandma and Grandpa Lawrence were buried. The day after the funeral we brought her ashes south to a small church on the outskirts of Okehampton in Devon and thanks to the local council she went in with her Mum and Dad.

I had taken a week's compassionate leave and a week annual leave and stayed with Tim. We slept together every night, although we didn't make love. It wasn't a conscious decision by either of us but we did sleep naked and held each other cuddling up for comfort and warmth.

On the Saturday before my Sunday departure we went out to a country pub restaurant for lunch, and chatted about what to do next. Our closeness and familiarity with each other meant that when the waitress asked if Tim would like another drink while I was in the restroom, she added "and another Diet Coke for your wife?"

In was just close enough to hear, and he smiled at me and I returned it full well, blushing redder than usual.

"Yes please," he said.

"Elaine, I've been thinking," he said once I sat down, "There's nothing in Manchester for me now, my job is OK but I could live without it, and once I sell the house, I'd have enough banked to keep me going until I find a job down south. Could I stay with you for a while?"

I moved my chair closer to his and leaned over and kissed him on the lips, the first time we'd ever done such a thing in public.

"No," I said, "you can't stay with me for a while," he looked intrigued, "but we can live together if you'd like?"

"Live together," he said beaming, "But... are you sure?"

"Tim, I absolutely insist," I whispered in his ear, "anyway, I'm no good at sleeping on my own anymore." Which was true; OK it was the fact that you don't normally have a man with a prick the size of a donkey's throwing you down and fucking your brains out when you were on your own after all.

We finished our meal, paid the bill and walked out to the car park where I pinned him to the car and snogged the shit out of him, eating face like a couple of hormonal teenagers. By the time we got home the passing, gaining a sister, the funeral, the journey to 'THAT' grave and the month or so of abstinence was forgotten and we all but ran from the car to the front door, giggled the door open with me starting to unbutton my blouse and undo the button and zipper on my skirt before he'd even opened the door. Once in, he turned to lock the deadbolt on the door, turning back in time to see my blouse and skirt fall to the floor, and to me unhooking my bra and starting to slide out of my panties almost in one movement.

"So Mr Barnes, you going to fuck me or what?"

"Oh well, seeing as you put it so nicely Mrs Barnes," he turned, picked me up and to my amazement carried me, naked, up the stairs to his bedroom where he laid me down and stripped naked himself in seconds, bearing down on me with his huge prick sticking out in front ready for me.

We fucked, twice in fact. This was interspersed with an extremely enjoyable period of oral sex in the classic 69 with me on top as usual. I loved sucking his huge cock and was gradually working up the courage to deep throat him (thanks again Cosmo). He was no slouch either and licked, sucked and slobbered over my pussy and anus, using his long fingers to great effect. 

I didn't let him come in mouth as I wanted that penis in me, I didn't care which hole even, I just wanted to be ordered on to my hands and knees and be held down by him while he fucked my rather shapely arse off.

We woke next morning and fucked again, showered, fucked again in the shower, showered again, then had some lunch, and only the soreness of my battered and abused puss stopped us going for round three.

I promised I would come and see him the next weekend I would phone him and have a chat. OK, I basically promised him phone sex every night but what the hell - he'd fucking earned it, and we did have a lot to talk about.



The Really Complicated Family Ch. 06



We spoke on the phone every night, masturbating and describing what we were doing and what we wanted to do. I told him about my vibrator as it nestled at the apex of my cunt lips snug into its very own hood making sure to lick my fingers and verbally remind him of how I taste.

"Well, it's like this Mr Barnes; It's just starting to tingle darling," I said, "Ooooooh, it's fucking nice, how about you?"

"I'm lying on my bed and rubbing my prick like you do, but it's not the same."

"Well, imagine that I'm kneeling on the bed between your legs and my lips are just around the head. I'm sucking you and sucking you, and sucking you, I'm flicking your cockhead with my tongue just underneath where the stretched bit of skin is..."

"And what about you," he said, "Am I fucking you?"

"Yes," I gasped, "listen..." 

I'd pulled the vibrator from between my labia and started to pump it in and out of my fleshy cunt lips and the soft squelchy sound was picked up by the phone microphone, switching off the vibrate function so he could hear me. I didn't for a second think about how stupid I must have looked slopping the vibrator in and out of my pussy with the phone receiver right next to my cunt.

I could just hear his voice urging me on. I put the phone back to my ear panting.

"Could you hear?" I said.

"Yeah," he growled, "do it on your hands and knees," he ordered.

"Okay," I whispered to him and turned over. I laid the phone handset on the pillow and laid my head on it to hold it in place. I then reached down between my thighs and pumped it in and out of my cunt. "Oh Tim," I exclaimed, "It's nowhere near as good as you, it's not long enough, it's not going in far enough." I panted in time to my thrusts.

"Easy answer to that," he said, "stick it up your arse..."

"What?"

"I said stick it up your arse; I absolutely insist."

Now I know that I could simple have pretended, and made the sort of noises that he'd expect to hear, but leaving the vibrator in my cunt, I put my arm around my back and felt down for the butt end. My pussy tightened and the vibe slid out just in reach of my right hand.

"OK," I panted, "I'm just..." I put the tip in the crack of my arse and slid it up until I felt the point touch my anus. "It's just about to go in."

"Push," he said, "tell me how it feels."

I pushed, and it slipped; I chuckled, "It slid out," I said, "Hang on, aaaaaah, awwww shit, that's tight."

"Pump it in and out, I don't care how tight it is, fuck your arse with it."

"OK darling," I said, slipping it in and out as ordered. "Oh that's good, it's tight, I feel full, it's kind of wanting to go, then not wanting to – fuck it's good." It was only wet with my pussy juice and I was pleased the plastic didn't lose too much moisture. I could feel it becoming dry though and hoped it would Tim would come or let me come. 

"It's me fucking you Elaine, It's my cock forcing itself in and out of your arse; play with your clit..."

"Oh God," I cried out almost falling to the bed, as my weight was taken by my shoulders against my pillows. I strummed hard, flicking hard, still trying to fuck my arse with the slowly drying vibe. 

Now to recreate the technical aspects of this activity, do that, rubbing your stomach in a circular motion and patting your head at the same time. It was becoming a bit of a struggle and Tim must have heard my occasional frustrated growl.

"Switch the vibrate back on..." he order.

"Oh Tim, you dirty bastard," I said reaching back for the grooved base and twisting it to full power. SHIT!!

"OH CHRIST," I cried out, "Tim you fucking beauty!" It was the weirdest sensation ever, and I could hear Tim chuckle to himself as I flicked my clitty again, holding the vibrator in place as it tickled and prickled. I felt the tingle start in my arse and belly and gasped a hissed 'ooh yeah' as I began. "Oh Tim," I cried out, "I'm coming, I'm co-oooooh shit!" I mumbled into the phone as the spasms struck and I burbled promising him endless blow jobs as I came a couple of hundred miles away from lover, who I could hear gasping as he came into a pair of my knickers I left precisely for this occasion.

We got our breath back and asked each other about our mutual orgasms. Tim it seemed had come so hard that the knickers slipped and he pumped his come over his belly and lower chest. For me I was lying flat on the bed still with the receiver wedged under my face, my left arm pinned under me cupping my entire puss, and my right hand gently hold the now still vibrator in my arse as the final shudders came and went.

We chatted softly as lovers do, neither wanting to be the one that said goodnight and ended what we shared. It was a school night, and as my radio alarm ticked to thirty minutes past eleven, I said that we both had to sleep now, and that I would call him tomorrow. 

I put the phone back onto its cradle, and reached back for the butt of the vibe still indecently sticking out of my arse. I gently pulled it out, and wiped it clean with some wet wipes I kept in my knickers drawer for just this reason. I thought about getting a small tube of KY jelly to keep with it, but then figured Tim would bring his with him when he moved south. I closed my drawer, and lying as I had when I fucked myself, put one hand on my still tingling arse and fell into the most peaceful and deep sleep.

On Thursday I bought the local paper for jobs, and I found that the local grammar school was looking for an Arts Department technician, someone to mix and fill paint pots, assist in painting and pottery lessons and operate the school kiln; I drove there the next morning and collected an application pack in time for me to take it to Manchester with me that night.

I had gone out and bought a new black lace body, in preparation for that Friday night. I knew he'd be horny and I knew for certain that I was, and any underwear I wore would be torn off of me and thrown aside, but we BOTH liked them and what they did for us prior to the sex. We loved fucking each other and the undies were the nice addition, just the 'jam on the bread' as my Nanny Barnes would have said.

We didn't spend the whole of our phone conversations wanking of course, we did actually have some intelligent discussion before we turned to sex starved animals! I told him about the application I'd found and would collect, and we discussed moving his stuff to my place and how to dispose of Mums.

That Friday when I left work I went straight to the nearest rental van place I picked up a biggish over-cab Ford Transit that would get almost all of his stuff in it at one go. It was a slower less comfortable drive, as my car was high performance, had an excellent stereo system and a soft top.

The Luton van had a radio that would only tune to two stations and I soon ran out of cassette tapes to play in it.

After a reeeeeeeeally boring five hour drive I turned into the street that held the old house. It was never 'my' house and I pretty much hated the place until Tim's makeover of it and our lovemaking. I would always have the memory of our first night of lovemaking in his bedroom of course but 'my' house was in Surrey and 250 miles away. I saw to my surprise that a 'For sale' sign was already up. 

As I opened the door, I could see that he'd already started to pack. The front room was empty, cleared of all but boxes of things he'd labelled; charity shop, check with Elaine, check with Ronnie, all sealed with brown tape.

Mum's room was clear, all of the furniture gone – either collected by Social Services or taken by the council dustmen. His room was still looking as good as it had before, it only needed me naked on the bed to make it perfect. His model railway was packed into the original boxes, and he was there, roller in hand, painting over the fantastic scenery that had graced the wall since I moved out some twelve or so years back. I didn't have a room for his railway but was working on that. I hadn't told him yet but I was seriously considering putting my house on the market as well. I loved my little place but there wasn't room for Tim's railway, and what's more I wanted a fresh start. 

I had introduced Tim as my brother to my next door neighbours, not thinking that in a few short months we'd be lovers, and I didn't want any suspicious noses poking over fences or staring at our comings and goings and commenting on how many sets of sheets went up on the line each week.

The old lady next door had lived in her house for forty odd years and somehow, much as she was a lovely sweet old thing, I'm not sure she'd believe that all was normal with that lovely single young school teacher and her younger brother living in such close proximity to her and also my bedroom wall was her bedroom wall.

I wanted a new start, with Tim. I'd pretty much given up on a man, marriage, children and that kind of thing, which was probably why I felt the way I did about Tim. He was probably as emotionally fucked up as I was – his lack of any kind of personal female company was even more evident than my failure with the men I'd known. All I knew was that Tim was as much of a man as I could ever want and, well, I had hundreds of children to look after, let's face it.

That night, after packing the first of Tim's boxes and furniture into the box van I'd brought, we lay on his bed in his almost empty bedroom watching TV and eating fish and chips out of the paper, something Mum would never of allowed and had we not cremated her, would probably have had her gently rotating in her last resting place. 

Chips finished, we'd began to fill in his application form, and I would remove a piece of my clothing or his at the completion of each page. Finally, as we worked through the section 'any other information to support your application' I slowly and sexily removed my white cotton blouse to reveal the black body, the cleavage it gave me and the cheeks of my arse exposed by the cut of it at the rear.

"Fuck, Elaine, come here, NOW!" he ordered.

"NO!" I said wagging a finger at him, "you've got to apply for your job, then you can have your present."

"But..." he started, looking at me all puppy-dog like.

"You know that doesn't work with me Tim," I said folding my arms and raising my tits, but knowing that he'd pretty much just grab me and fuck me if he really wanted to, "complete your form!" I ordered bending forward at the waist so he could stare down my cleavage. I then turned round so the strip of black lace bisecting my buttocks was there for him to see.

I had to stop myself from laughing at his efforts to answer all the questions and cover all the points in the job description, while nursing his huge erection and having an attractive and horny woman strutting before him denying him what he wanted most. After all, he needed a job down south and I couldn't let one night of passion ruin his chances of what was actually a really good one.

"There!" he announced, carefully folding the paper in half and slipping it in the 'reply' envelope, "all finished, NOW," he announced to the room, "Bring that sexy fucking body over here so I can FINALLY slake my lust on you."

I feigned a yawn and stretched,

"Oh Timmy," I said, "I'm too tired for sex, can't we just sleep, Oh," I said bending at the waist and looking at the newspaper I'd brought with me for the job adverts it contained, "there's a Bond film on TV, let's watch that." I put my hands on the cheeks of my bottom and stroked them, then softly pulled them apart.

"Oh no," he growled with a grin, "I'm fucking you, end of story."

"You gotta catch me fi-irst," I chimed at him, and sticking out my tongue pulled the door open, closed it behind me and ran down the stair, with him in hot and erect pursuit. We chased around the house ducking around boxes and furniture, not finding the one thing I'd wanted, a nice soft rug or some cushions for him to fuck me on; but no, everywhere was hard polished floor boards or linoleum – then, bathed in moonlight I saw the perfect spot.

We'd both of us cared for the lawn and cut it, rolled it, weeded it – why I'll never know because Mum would scream down the garden if we so much as sneezed on it. I turned the catch in the back door and, probably for the first and last time, wearing nothing but a really sexy black lace body, ran out onto the lush grass Mum had been so proud of. Tim was out seconds later, naked and erect in the moonlight and grabbing me and rugby tackling me to the ground.

The fresh air and dew damp grass lightened our senses and we were soon snogging almost silently, while Tim tried to figure how the body was fastened. I knew it was a couple of hooks and eyes under the crotch but wanted him to find them on his own. In the meantime, he'd hustled the shoulder straps down and had freed my tits, dropping his hungry mouth to suckle on my already hard nipples, driven to aching erectness by the sexiness of the situation and the chill in the air. In the meantime I pumping his rock hard prick, readying it to do its wonderful thing.

He was trying to wrench the body down over my tummy so I gave up the struggle of fighting him and lifting both of my legs up I pointed at my groin and whispered "hooks" to him. In seconds he had found them and they pinged free allowing him the view of my pussy, shaved completely free of hair for the first time since they'd grown all those years back. He gasped and slid lower to look at my cunt, shining sliver in the moonlight.

"Christ Elaine," he whispered, "that has to be the sexiest thing I've ever seen." As he stared I put a hand on the back of his head and pushed it down so his lips came into contact with my hairless mons.

Confession time; yes, it did look and make me feel fantastically sexy, but the real reason was those short wiry hairs would snag in the lace of the body, and rather than take it back (It did look fucking great on me by the way) the easiest thing to do was shave all of the hair off. Job done.

He sucked at my clit for what seemed like hours until, needing to feel him in me and filling me, I pulled him up, kissing his face that tasted of me and I felt his erection nudging at my cunt. Needing no urging or advice he pushed into me and that was that – our first midnight open-air fuck. While it was our first I swore it wouldn't be the last and I came twice, before he spilt his semen into me. 

I lay flat and well fucked under him; after my first come, he'd flipped me and described the glorious sight of my moonlit arse as he settled his knees either side of mine for the final push; and what a fucking push it was too. I struggled hard with containing my cries that came in time with his hard pumping thrusts and I trembled knowing that my orgasm was on its way but not knowing when, until I it hit me all at once and I fell forward into that grass gasping at each tremor his still thrusting cock put into me.

I cried out his name, and he began kissing my neck and nuzzling my face until I finally felt his own orgasm rise and encouraging to fuck me and fill me, he pinned me into the grass with his last ejaculating thrust.

Laying there and feeling the trickle of his copious discharge at my pussy I thought of the outrage Mum would have felt at us being on the grass. I'm not sure her outrage would have been lessened or increased any by the idea of Tim's come pouring out of my flushed and sopping pussy onto that grass, but what the fuck; she'd gone and her malign, stagnating influence on our lives could stay in this house. I still have a lasting joy of seeing the imprint of my back and bottom in the grass and just next to it four indentations that were my knees and elbows.

The next day was a tiring round of packing and sorting, boxing and delivering things to the new 'Age Concern' charity shop. They had been regular visitors to Mum before her final illness and I knew she would have approved of that at least.

We showered and went to bed naked, too tired to do anything but hold each other. I woke first next morning and I felt his erect cock lying across my thigh. I figured that I would try the 'cowgirl' - after all I was so used to being flipped onto my hands and knees when we fucked – when we wanted it dirty and I had a need to be mastered. Then there was the standard missionary which was when we made love. But seeing him there gave me the idea to try one I'd seen in a womans' magazine. I pushed him over so he was on his back, then straddled him, guiding him up and into me.

Fuck but it went deep, I had to concentrate or at one point I felt like I was being impaled on him and I felt the first discomfort. He had woken up enough to know what was going on and reached up for my breasts, and I let him, before taking his arms for support as I bounced up and down on his hardness making it touch all of the places I wanted it to. I came, falling forward on to him as I trembled though it. Within moments felt him slide from under me to take up his usual place at my rear, and already wet and ready he was soon sliding into me and fucking me hard, the way we both loved the most. I wriggled a bit knowing it would be enough of a hint to make him hold me down and fuck me, and of course he did.

"Wow," I said, "that cowgirl I'm going to have to try again, but you are so fucking huge I can't take you all that way."

He rolled over me chuckling, "You'll do as you're told missy and take everything I have to give," he started to tickle me. I tried to tickle him back but his extra strength and longer arms gave him the edge and I was soon helpless and in his arms. That morning, freed of the cloying overwatch of Mum I finally had my first inkling of what we were beginning to mean to each other and feel for each other.

I hadn't really known Tim for nearly half of his life. When we came back into each-other's lives we were relative strangers – I didn't even like the old priggish, prudish younger brother of mine that I left behind. But meeting up after such a long time was like a new beginning, and I got to know this stranger. What had started as some initial fancying of the bloke across the kitchen table and some crafty and secretive masturbation had ended in a full-on secret love affair and even unspoken we both new how we wanted it to play out.

It was love, over and above what could be expected of siblings, proper full on, passionate love and on what would be our last Saturday in the house, we kissed pretty much for an hour until our lips, chins and tongues were sore. Neither of us said anything, and we just grinned and kissed. 

Because it would be a fortnight until Tim would move in with me, I wanted something special for our last Manchester Saturday night. In that Saturday's evening paper I found that a local Hotel was hosting a dinner and dance for charity and I phoned and ordered two tickets, I'd brought my favourite little black dress that was close fitting around my boobs and bottom, and made me look great, so told Tim he'd need something equally hot. 

Tim's clothing was pretty much all picked out by Mum and I told him that as well as something smart and hot for tonight, if he was going to job interviews he'd need to dress accordingly. I dragged him to a local Gent's outfitters and they sold him three suits; two lounge and one dinner jacket with a real bow tie. Fortunately he was a perfect size for off the peg and he looked good in everything he tried on, but a few really stood out.

The lounge suits made him look like a totally new man. I'd never ever seen this side of him and I fancied him even more. While the sharp, contemporary lounge suits made him look hot, the DJ looked fucking amazing and as I sat there in my skinny jeans and tailored T-shirt, I felt my pussy moisten at his broad shoulders, his handsome features and those eyes that could make me swoon. 

He showered and dressed in his new DJ, while I was dressing and making up. My little black dress was one of the most expensive items in my wardrobe, and fitted me well. I had my hair dressed, took extra time over my make-up and went bra-less and pulled on crotch-less black lace tights. At one stage I thought I'd need to put on panties as I just got so damp around the pussy and I did wonder if he's smell the sweet wafting of my pussy ready to be fucked.




The Really Complicated Family Ch. 06



We got a taxi to the hotel, and were ushered through and shown to our table, which I was pleased to see was for two. The tickets were quite expensive and the event completely black tie. We were lobbied by some young people trying to convince us to sign up to some quite expensive monthly direct debits to help dig wells in Africa. We explained that we were poor school teachers trying to do our bit but coming this evening and they were kind enough to leave us alone and head to the next table.

The dinner was excellent, and the professional big band brilliant. We had been bullied into learning to dance when we were kids, don't ask me why, and both knew how to foxtrot, so when the dinner had finished and the band moved onto swing numbers we were in our element. 

We stopped a few times to drink the champagne that was being handed around, and rest our feet, but we soon found ourselves in each-other's arms and when the tempo dropped to 'I only have eyes for you' we stopped any formal dancing and just held each other and kissed. I felt Tim's hands on my bottom and hoped desperately that he wouldn't try to pull my skirt up, as I remembered that I wasn't wearing panties and the room would see my shapely, slightly pinched, white bottom framed by the black nylon of the crotchless and backless tights I was wearing.

"Careful," I whispered in his ear.

"Careful of what?" he said, confused.

"Careful with the back of my dress," I said and grinning coquettishly I added, "I'm not wearing any panties."

He grinned in delighted surprise, and I felt his hands move across my arse as he tried to detect any subtle differences that might have let him know this. Whatever reason it was very nice to have my cute bottom, still one of my favourite parts of my body, massaged and generally grabbed and fondled.

The music stopped and an encore called for,

"If they play 'New York-New York' and expect us to all hold hands I'm out the door," Tim said squeezing my bum again. I grinned resting my forehead against his, my arms around his broad shoulders.

"Don't worry," I said, "I feel it's going to be a good one," and with that, the band played 'The lady is a tramp' and the whole room sang it. 

At the end, the band received a standing ovation, and the lights slowly came on. Still in each-other's arms, I looked into his eyes, smiled then kissed him. We broke.

As we did, as one person we both started to mouth, 'I love you'. We both beamed at each other, hugging, with him lifting me off my feet. When we broke for breath I had tears pouring down my face, and he dabbed them dry with his handkerchief.

As we left the ballroom, I noted that leaflets had been left on the tables indicating that rooms were available for the night at a reduced rate.

"How about it Mr Barnes?" I said, handing him the flyer.

"I would love to Miss Barnes," he said, and handed over his credit card to the young man behind the desk. We took the lift almost to the top floor, and found our way to our large room. There was a welcome pack of shower gels and shampoos and toothbrushes and toothpaste.

We cleaned our teeth before starting to undress and I thanked whatever it was that caused me to put my contraceptive pills in my clutch bag as well as my lippy and compact. I lay on the bed in just tights, my bare pussy on full display, and with a hint of devilment on my part, I'd left on my patent leather stiletto heels.

His cock looked even bigger than usual and I guessed that the excellent food, excellent and copious wines, champagne and romance were making him look even better than he normally did.

I felt my eyes fill with tears again, and quickly reached down to remove my heels before dragging off my tights. I didn't want to be his black laced whore tonight, I was more in love than I had ever been before in my life and I wanted it perfect. With no nightwear, I reached down and pulled up the silk sheets and pulled them tight across my bust to preserve not my modesty but to add a hint of the unknown. Tim had watched in the mirror, and when he turned to face me I saw in his smile that he understood and slid under the covers pulling them close and moving close next to me.

We kissed, and held each other, him taking his time with his gentle stroking and play, taking as long as he liked. Even though the clock said it was half past one I didn't feel tired, and I holding his cheek, I whispered, 

"My Darling Tim, make love to me."

He climbed over me settling between my thighs that I had opened to welcome him, and the head of his cock pushed into me. We made love.

We didn't fuck, we didn't shag – we made love, simple, passionate, standard boring missionary sex but as I felt his come spill deep inside me, I came – crying in relief and with the simple emotion of the ending of the single most romantic night of my whole life.

When we arrived at the dining room the next morning, like quite a few others we were still in evening dress, and Tim's bow tie hung around his neck made me fancy him even more. 

After breakfast we walked from the hotel to the nearby taxi rank hand in hand, him in his white linen dress shirt and his DJ over his shoulder. It was one of those wonderful moments that you see in Bond films and just added to perfection.

We were as packed as we could be, and everything that wasn't eventually coming back to my place, was gone or ready to go. He still had four days of his notice period to work out, so I'd be back for him in two weeks' time with another smaller van and bring him and his final few possessions south for the last time.

The big removal van needed to be unloaded back at my house and returned to hire company before I collected my car and drove home and got ready for work the next day. So hours earlier than usual and barely able to control my tears, I kissed him goodbye again promising to ring him when I got home. We'd not had time for sex at the hotel as we had breakfast to get to, a shower and get the keys back before eleven o'clock. A month ago I would have dropped to my knees and blown him or let him fuck my mouth, but the downer I felt at having to leave him for almost a fortnight was almost paralysing.

I wiped my eyes on and off for the next hour until I finally got into the journey and the M1 became the M25 and then the A3, and I was home, unloading the van into my garage then driving the van back to the hire firm and collecting my car – safe, sound and brilliantly equipped. On the way back to my house I posted his application form in the letter box on the corner of my road.

I rang him, and we chatted about how his gear had fitted in the garage; I didn't tell him that his clothes were in my bedroom drawers and wardrobes, not in the spare room he'd used last time. We both spoke in hushed whispers about how wonderful the weekend had been and he said that is was twelve short days before we'd be together again and in each-other's arms I fell asleep, warm, comfortable and content after a miserable drive home.

We spoke the next couple of nights, him talking about the how much he was looking forward to coming south, and spending every night with me. The loving chat was as good as the phone sex we'd had the week before, and each night I slept soundly.

He had told me that he wouldn't ring me the next night as he was being taken out for drinks and a curry the next night by his colleagues, so I had an early night for once and slept like a log. 

The middle weekend came and I worked through the Saturday at a school event; much as I tried to get out of it, as Deputy headteacher I was duty bound to be there and help with what was ostensibly a fund raiser. That night I went out with the girls and we had a few drinks and danced. At one stage I was propositioned by a really fit looking bloke and six months before I would have given him the phone number he asked for. My girls all looked at me shocked, as the guy backed away disappointedly.

"What the fuck Elaine," said Caroline, another school teacher, "he was fucking gorgeous!"

"Not for me sweetie," I said, trying to hide any wistfulness in my demeanour that might give away my lack of desire for anyone else.

"Elaine Barnes!" said Judith once a school teacher, now a police officer, "you're in love with someone!"

My face flushed as I knew it would.

I had two choices, deny everything to my girls that had known me through years of trials and tribulations and any number of boyfriends or run with the half-truth I'd been running through my head for the last three months.

I went with the half-truth, after all once Tim moved in they would all meet him, and none of them had met him before or knew he was actually my brother.

"OK, OK," I said, "if you must know, there is someone I'm seeing at the moment, and it's getting a bit serious actually."

There was a drunken chorus of 'oooohh's from them and I was pushed back to our corner seat to spill the beans.

'Tim' was a guy I'd met in Manchester shortly before Mum died. He, like me, came from an unloving parent and we just clicked, and we supported each other through some difficult times. I talked about some days out we had, making love in his mother's house while she was trapped downstairs because of a broken stair lift, and fucking in the garden. I finally added the whole romantic dinner and dance at the end and they cooed just as I knew they would. He was selling his house in Manchester and would be moving in with me at some stage and they were all bound to meet him soon.

"Moving IN?" they all burst out.

"Yes moving in," I said, "I think this is the one." They all cooed again.

"What about your weird brother," said Judith, "Is he staying on in Manchester?" 

"My weird brother," I said tutting, "I haven't seen him in six months, saw a bit of him when Mum died," I said remembering Tim's sadness at her passing, "but to be honest I hardly know him anymore. Yes," I said raising my glass, "he's definitely staying in Manchester!"

When I got home I phoned him drunkenly and told him about my double meaning conversation I'd had with the girls and he giggled. He too had gone out for a last drink with some mates and was giggly. We continued our chat and firmed up on the story getting it locked in our heads, and although drunk we added a few bits before blowing noisy kisses down the phone and signing off.

Amazingly I remembered all of it and thought about how best to spread the word so that Tim's entry into my life would be slow and not raise suspicion. I would begin to tell mates at work about the boyfriend from Manchester and let them add their own thoughts to why I would go to Manchester so often to visit a parent and a sibling I didn't really like. It worked perfectly.

On the Thursday before the Friday I was due to go get him he'd left message on my answer phone when I got back from work the next day again said that I shouldn't wait up for a call that night either. Probably a final piss-up with his mates, although I didn't think he had that many.

So I was most surprised when my door was soundly knocked at a little after eleven o'clock on that Thursday night – I peeked out of my bedroom window and saw a large transit camper van pulled onto the bottom of my drive and I recognised the distinctive colour of his mattress in the back of it. I looked again and my insides gave a leap when I saw the blue hoodie I'd bought him two weeks back and his smiling face waving up to my bedroom window.

I ran downstairs, pausing only to put on a pair of knickers and a dressing gown, he must have had someone drive him after all. I opened the door and pulled him in hugging him, really surprised and really happy to see my brother and lover.

"Where's..." I said, looking around for another person, perhaps Ronnie had gone and got him.

He reached into his back pocket and brought out his brand new green and pink driver's license,

"There," he said, "licensed to drive cars, vans and women mad," he said, and pointing over his shoulder, "and that is a bit of a bargain I picked up from the people buying the house. Ford Transit Motor home, two years old, all the mod con's and part payment for the house. I passed my driving test ten days ago and have been waiting to surprise you by driving down." He held my hand and walked me across to the RV still almost naked, "large double bed in the back," he said, "More than enough room for a pair of lovers to get to know each other better in the countryside."

"Oh Tim," I said, forgetting any audience I might have, including the neighbour that had met 'my brother Tim'. "Oh it's wonderful! It's wonderful to see you!"

"I couldn't wait any longer," he said holding me, tight in his arms, "and what's more I'm taking you away for the weekend!" he grinned.

"The house?"

"Sold baby," he said confidently, "we have this motorhome and the cheque for the other seventy five grand should be clearing in the bank on Monday."

I put my arms around his neck and kissed him, such was my joy at seeing him and in his news. It turned out that he'd bought the house for fifty two thousand and in the housing boom the value had gone up by twenty thousand. He just wanted a quick sale and had no chain, so jumped at the chance presented by the young 'first time buyer' couple that wanted a big place like his.

"Well, my rich, big dicked man," I whispered, "before you take me away for the weekend you should take me upstairs, take my panties and dressing gown off and take me from behind."

"Thought you'd never ask," he said and locking the front door with my key took me by the hand and led me to OUR bedroom. In the room he found an extra chest of drawers with the first of his clothes, his suits and posh shirts and trousers hanging in my wardrobe. His socks and boxers were in a small bedside table on HIS side of the bed. We have only not shared a bedroom a couple of times since.

As instructed he stripped me of my panties and dressing gown and instructed me to assume the position on the bed. He fucked me, long hard and fast causing me to orgasm, before feeling him pump his sperm into my womb. 

"Another cherry gone," he said, "Our first fuck in your house."

I giggled and smiled back over my shoulder to him. I didn't think he needed to know that he wasn't MY first fuck in this house, but I got the point. We'd set the precedent!

"Wrong Tim," I said, leaning forward to pull myself off of his softening cock, "Our first fuck..." I flipped onto my back and pulled him down over me, "in OUR house," we kissed and got to know each other again, before going downstairs for supper, naked and loving it.

We sat in the kitchen chatting and giggling, both finally realising that we were free and this was a totally new start and we could write our own story from this point.

We had decided not to embroider our story too much as there were a few people in our lives that knew the truth and knew some of the people we knew.

So we kept it simple and as we had already discussed.

I stood, stretched and raised up on my toes making my tits stick out and my bottom to raise. Tim growled at my display and I tutted him and moved to the dishwasher to load the few plates bowls and cups we'd used. I bent over to load, knowing that my arse was on display to him with it's hidden delights between it's cheeks.

Knowing his mind by now I slammed the door shut ready to stand and make for the bedroom and round two. Tim wasn't having that though.

Before I knew it I had been propelled sideways and was bent over the kitchen table.

"Why Tim Barnes, what ARE you do..."

The coldness at my anus let me know precisely what he was doing.

While I was bent forward he had opened the tiny cupboard that held my asprin, ibruprofen, plasters and... you guessed it, oils and creams. 

What I had felt was a large glob of petroleum jelly pushed past the initial defence of my anal sphincter. He'd done this before of course I knew what I was to expect so relaxed my warm body against the cold oak of my table. 

Finally after a few tense moments of expectation I felt his large expertly wielded penis press at my anus, and I heard the table squeak as he fucked me into it. Laying under him I could do nothing but lay there and let him do what he wanted to me.

I was getting fucked in my arse, and I lay my hands on my buttocks spreading them slightly to allow him further and deeper access into my bowels. His mastery of me was now complete; ten years ago if my lover had grabbed me and flopped me over my own kitchen table and lubed me up with my own vaseline I'd have screamed rape and have fought him off.

But here, this formerly mousey, squeaky man two years my junior had been raised and tutored by me

in his sexual awakening and I realised I'd created not a monster, but a master. I didn't want him to tie me up or beat me, but I did want to grab me and take me!

That was precisely what he was doing now.

It transpired that he'd got the nerve to go and buy pornography; he'd bought magazines, story books, The Joy of Sex, even some videos. Having read or watched a selection of porn he'd completed his own sexual education in the time we'd been apart. 

Previously I'd led our adventures, but as he grew in confidence he started to become the man and resented my pushing him around - just as I wanted him to and the real reason I'd tried pushing him around in the first place. 

We loved each other just as much but I knew that I'd created the perfect lover.

After a good five minutes of fucking my arse over the kitchen table, something he'd seen in a porno film he was getting to the point of no return and I finally felt his hot come squirt into me. He withdrew from me, gently stroking my back and helping me back to my feet, where he put his arms around me and pulled me into him for a long kiss and cuddle. 

Like I said, the perfect lover.

"Cherry number two," he whispered into my ear and I fell to kissing him again.

Next morning by way of a 'welcome to your new home and thanks for fucking me rigid' I brought him breakfast in bed as I woke and switched off my alarm before it went off. I had to work for a few weeks before the up the end of the summer term, and I handed him the manila envelope that arrived two days before and had the invitation to interview for the grammar school job in at the end of the next week.

He drank his tea and ate his toast as I dressed ready for school with him making complimentary comments about my body and how great it was to wake up next to it.

"So how many times did you have to take your driving test," I said, sat in just my skinny knickers at my dressing table and applying eye make-up.

He looked embarrassed,

"Second time," he grinned, "failed the first time on 'undue hesitancy' – I wasn't fast enough."

I turned and flashed my boobs at him,

"That's the very last thing I'd accuse you of," I said and he growled back to me, bare-chested above the covering sheet. He drank the last of his tea and put his mug down and his hands behind his head.

I put on my bra, pulled on my T-shirt, and slipped into my skirt and zipped it and I kissed him goodbye, hoping that I wouldn't have too much of a skip in my step at work and it wouldn't be too obvious that I got a good healthy sorting-out last night.

We took to life together almost without noticing, when I got home it was to find that he had loaded the washing machine, the dishwasher, ironed a whole pile of clean laundry, and prepared grilled chicken breast, with baked potatoes and a salad.

I was looking forward to a night in front of the TV and a long kissing session, but as soon as I'd eaten my dinner, he was pushing me towards the front door and I remembered that we were going away for the weekend!

For the first time I got into the passenger seat and Tim drove. He was still a bit green, crunched the gears a few times and was a bit slow pulling away and nervous in traffic but I relaxed quickly, and two hours later, just as the sun began to set, we arrived in the New Forest.




The Really Complicated Family Ch. 06



We found our pitch, found the cable and 'hooked-up' and filled the water bottle and connected that and the waste. OK, we'd forgotten hair conditioner and the motorhome had no tin opener but with milk bought from the local shop we were soon settled in and watching TV on the large sofa in the motorhome.

It was idyllic; we struggled to put the bed together which was probably as much about the wine we drank as it being complicated, but within minutes it was done, and following a walk to the ablutions block we soon turned in, turned on and screwed each other senseless. 

I woke in the night and walked across to the ablutions again, Tim hadn't fathomed the cassette toilet thing yet, but walking across the soft grass at four in the morning to a perfectly clear sky in just a T-shirt soon had my nipples hard and me horny for another dose of Tim's loving. 

I did consider if there was any way we could do it outdoors but there were lots of other motorhomes and caravans around. I slid under the duvet and felt his semi-hard cock, and figured it would only take my lips and a few moments to suck him hard again; I was right and I tasted both our juices that had dried on him.

He woke up and instantly guessed what I needed of him and obliged, hands and knees, with me peeking out from under the curtain at the rest of the camp and wondering if anyone else was getting as well fucked as I was! 

That was the first of many weekends, long and short, that we spent in the motorhome. I dread to think of the number of orgasms he's given me in it, at least one for each night we've slept in it that's for sure.

On the Thursday of that first full week, he prepared for his interview and went off dressed in his one of his new suits with a splash of a fresh cologne and folder of his certificates and commendations under his arm. He drove me to work, then took my car for his ten o'clock interview.

The night before I'd helped him to relax by the simple expedient of giving him a bubble bath, a gentle massage given to him as he lay back against my wet body, at the same time I fed him grapes and gave him occasional sips of wine. 

He lay on the bed, well and truly relaxed with me adding to the process by sucking him off until I felt the hot splash of his come at the back of my throat, another first in the house.

Thanks in no small part to my blow job and the careful 'life skills' coaching I'd given him he sailed through the interview. It took a month or so to settle in at his new job and being a grammar school boy himself with a degree in fine arts he fitted in perfectly.

Ronnie and the gang had driven south through London to arrive at our little place, and picked up the one box of things from Mum's house that she'd asked for.

Sipping their tea they all looked at us, "You guys look wonderful," said Ronnie, "The southern air obviously suits you." She smiled at Tim.

"Thanks Ron," he said, "the new job's great, the pay is better, and the surroundings are wonderful."

I tried not to take a sharp intake of breath, the Camden Posse where waaaaay brighter than Mum and the hidden meanings in words wouldn't be as much fun as we'd had and the girls would read straight through it.

"That's fantastic," she replied, "so are you looking for your own place now you're down here?"

"I was going to camp out at Lainey's all the time she'll let me," he replied.

"Oh, I don't think she'll kick you out, unless it gets more serious with her equine boyfriend oooow!" snapped Debs and Viv cut her short with a kick.

Tim looked puzzled. I turned back to the kitchen and thought about how the fuck I was going to keep the secret from these guys, who had all known me for many years and could, especially Debs, read me like a book.

"Guys," I said turning to face Tim, "I'd very much like to introduce you to my donkey dicked boyfriend," I made a 'tadah!' movement and pointed at Tim, whose mouth hung open.

I don't know what reaction I had expected but it wasn't Viv turning to Debs and saying,

"There, you smart-arsed little heathen Jock, that's a tenner you owe me,"

"Bugger," said Debs, fumbling in her jeans, "I'll have to pay you later,"

"In kind I expect," said Ronnie looking at them both in turn. "Oh don't worry Darlings," said Ronnie at me and Tim, "Oh, we guessed weeks ago!" she said brightly, "You two couldn't keep your eyes off each other; you talk about getting shagged by someone and the only bloke you've had any kind of contact with and not slagged him off four weeks later is Tim."

Viv drank the last of her coffee,

"Guys," she said, looking at the girls then Tim and I, "we are a group of Lesbians living in lust together, we are going to be the last people to judge anyone. It's plain that you love each other to distraction, and so long as neither of you hurts the other one you'll always have our love, support AND our blessing."

"Hear hear," said Debs, looking at me with undisguised lust in her eyes and chancing and surreptitious glance at Tim's crutch into the bargain. Ronnie noticed,

"I think it's about time you came to one of my barbeques Tim." Said Ronnie.

I put my hand to my mouth. I'd told Tim all about the Camden Posse's parties and jokingly warned him that one of them would drag him off and throw him down and fuck him. Especially Debs, I figured who had said she really wanted to meet my donkey dicked lover. I looked at her, then Tim. I loved them both and had made love to them both – it was only fair they got together and swapped notes on their joint lover!



The Really Complicated Family Ch. 07



So Tim and I settled down to life together. After no time at all being with me and working at a grammar school he lost the faint Mancunian twang his accent had had about it. He filled out a bit, and because of some gentle giggling from me about 'contentment spread' he used the staff option of working out at the school's excellent gym twice or three times a week. Shit, if I hadn't fancied him before – fuck he was gorgeous. Thanks to our regular weekends away he even had a tan.

Because of the groundwork I had started some weeks before with family and friends, he was accepted casually and completely. I arranged a party for my mates to meet him and he was a great success with all of them – especially Judith, even though she was married.

"Fucking hell Elaine," she whispered over her beer bottle, "I can see why you dumped people for him, he's gorgeous."

"Yeah," I said smiling at him and wrinkling my nose, "I know."

We had already worked out our story to tell friends and neighbours. It needed to be based on the truth for the sake of remembering, and just in case family that knew us met friends that knew us. 

I'd first met him at Manchester Royal Infirmary when I was visiting my Mum. He'd had a similar upbringing to mine with a controlling mother and listening in to the other's conversation, with hidden smirks and nods of encouragement or sympathy across the ward we'd clicked (true). 

Chatting easily as we left the hospital at close of visiting, we chatted amiably and I asked him if he'd join me for dinner as I hadn't eaten (still true). I'd gazed across the subtle lighting at this new man and we enjoyed each others company finding out how alike we were (still true).

After the meal I said that I needed to find a hotel room as I had no bed for the night (true again, my bedroom had a model railway in it) and he offered me the large sofa in his house. Now this bit I did struggle with, in real life I wouldn't have done that preferring a bed to a sofa anytime, stuff the cost. So it became a sofa 'bed' and I was promised breakfast.

Lots of smiles followed this and I had to explain that I did sleep alone at his place for that weekend and the next few, insisting that we were just mates. We ate out, and I would occasionally bring food parcels in (still true). Finally when a chance allowed I said that to return the favour he should come south for a weekend and stay at mine, with a weekend in London (seeing a pattern here now?). Eager grins followed this and I was glad to tell them that yes, we did get much closer that weekend but body clocks and pharmaceuticals meant we could only kiss, cuddle and heavily pet – extremely heavily pet (TOTALLY FUCKING TRUE!) but with a promise.

We spent a small fortune on phone calls before I finally stayed at his place a month later and we cemented our partnership fully (fuck me, that was SOME cementing and totally true again.)

It soon became apparent that my Mum was starting to suffer some mental anxiety, while his relationship with his mother had suffered because of his relationship with me, (again true, and not helped by my walking in on her sleeping and the play acting I'd done at three in the morning for her).

Sadly, I received a phone call late one night and had to dash up to Manchester and called Tim once there and he was with me when my mum passed away, and supported me through the emotional turmoil – that was pretty much the last time I saw my brother I had now taken to calling 'Timothy' and doubted I'd hear from him again (Not lying here folks).

Fortunately I was on hand when Tim lost his Mum and returned the favour. After a few weeks of soul searching we both realised what we had become to each other and decided that we wanted to move in together. Tim gave up his job, sold his house in Manchester and finally brought his motorhome south for good. My brother Timothy? Oh no, he never learnt to drive.

This was tangible, honest and so much the truth that it was sufficient for all comers and we have never differentiated from that story since; why should we, it's pretty much how it happened bar a few hidden facts, OK one HUGE missing fact and some minor inaccuracies.

Life continued wonderfully, we fell into bed at the end of each day naked, making love or not, holding each other until we woke and decided who would get breakfast. The old lady next door that I had worried about (I had introduced her to Tim as my brother almost a year back) told me one day that she had finally decided to sell her fantastic little surrey cottage and move to the continent. She bought a villa on the Algarve where she lived until she was 99, eventually passing away in her sleep. Her ashes were returned to the UK and Tim and I met her elderly daughter at the interment.

Finally, as I knew it had to, the invite from the Camden posse arrived for a mid-summer barbecue. Tim of course asked if this meant he had to stay at home while I went to enjoy myself with Debs. 

"Darling," I said beaming across the card they'd sent, "It says 'Tim and Elaine' on the card, not Elaine and Tim. If I'm any judge I rather think you are going to be the star of the show."

"What?" he said with a faint hint of nerves, all three girls must have been very intimidating for a reasonably simple guy like my Tim. 

'My Tim'; he'd become 'my Tim' as friends spoke of 'us' as a couple and I had become so used to the wonderful familiarity that the thought of him disappearing into the night with Debs while I didn't, did make me stop and think.

I reminded myself that I'd slept with her twice while I was getting into my relationship with my brother, and anyway, she was a dyke; she lived the life with Ronnie and Viv, no way would Tim and her become anything more than occasional lovers.

But then what were we? Lovers? Boyfriend/girlfriend? I couldn't use the term brother anymore that was for sure.

Suddenly I was struck by the thought that he could so simply say to me one day (as I could to him I suppose) 'I've met this wonderful man/woman (either in my case if previous experience was to be counted) and I really think this is it and I want to settle down/marriage/children/etc. All of the things that we couldn't do with each other.

But that night as I lay on the sofa with my head resting on his shoulder, he pulled me close and I thought, 'ah fuck it, what's the worst that could happen.'

We arrived at the party with Tim wearing chinos and a linen shirt smelling of the most wonderful cologne. Not wanting to let Debs down, I slid into my tightest blue jeans and in contrast a light cotton blouse buttoned low with a hint of the racy lacy tiny underwear beneath, and a mist of one of the more expensive perfumes I owned.

So Tim entered the house with a real sense of trepidation. He put a hand on mine as I went to open the door.

"Elaine," he said looking into my eyes, "I have no idea what you and they have planned for me tonight but whatever it is I will not do anything that will hurt you. Say the word and I'm out the door, what we have is the best thing that ever happened to me."

I had the biggest lump in my throat, and my eyes filled with tears,

"Don't worry Tim," I said, "If I'm honest, I don't know what they have planned either," I slid closer to him, "A signal," I said, "If either one of us doesn't like what's going on we look at the other and hold our nose. That way we know that it stinks and we want out."

"Perfect," he said looking slightly more relaxed, "so do you fancy some lady love this evening?" he said turning the door handle that let us into the porch.

"I think I could be persuaded," I said, "but I think my usually filly rather has her eyes set on you."

"Threeway," he said moving to the side and opening the second door that let us through to the garden, "that could be fun."

"Knowing Debs," I said, "She won't want to share you with me, or me with you for that matter, still let's see how it goes. By the way," I whispered in his ear, "I understand that she's a bit of a 'sub' on the quiet, likes her pretty bottom smacked by Viv, not sure about Ron, but hey, play that by ear."

Clutching and squeezing hands we walked through the gate to the sounds of Madonna, and of all songs 'Hanky panky'.

We were swept up in the convivial atmosphere and Tim the first man, straight or otherwise, at a Posse piss-up made to feel totally welcome. It was soon established that we were 'staying the night in Elaine's room' so eat, drink and get extremely merry.

Tim was not a great drinker and was watching his booze intake, to this day I don't know if lots of it would affect his performance, but he was not taking the chance. He had enough to get merry and joined in with the banter.

He was introduced to the girls as Tim 'my boyfriend' (the term 'partner' was still in its infancy) and he quickly learned what conversations he could join in and what was best to leave alone.

Hugged and kissed by Ronnie, Viv and Debs he was handed a bottle of 1664 and a large baguette and pointed at the barbecue and the mountain of cooked food thereon. The girls gathered around me whispering conspiratorially whether all was well still and had we come 'prepared'.

"We'll see," I said looking at Debs, but then I caught the look that Viv favoured me with. My conversation with Ronnie on our journey north the night Mum died came back to me. 'Viv fancies you like fuck,' she'd said, and I could see that desire in her eyes and that tonight, with hot knickers Debs dragged off and fucked by donkey dick Tim, tonight could be her turn with me.

Tim was then introduced to Christine, Jackie the porn star Cambridge professor, Julie and Jayne even more in love than before and saving money for in-vitro fertilisation for a baby, and a few of the other stalwart regulars I'd known for years.

Carla, a donnish school teacher friend of Ron's from the old days, had just started to wax lyrical on the wrongs of an selective and elitist education system that grammar schools represented (even though she'd been privately educated herself) when Debs appeared from nowhere and dragged him away.

The guitar came out and for the first time I lay not with my head in Deb's lap but against Tim's shoulder.

"This is a song for Viv, Debs and Tim," I said, making eye contact with all three, and then strummed the fifteen note intro of 'The great pretender,' with everyone joining in; for the last chorus Debs stood singing into her beer bottle like it was a microphone with a passable impression of Freddie Mercury including some pelvic thrusts directed not at me, but at 'my Tim'.

We finished the songs, belting out all of the old favourites ending with 'Lonesome tonight' as we always did. We started to tidy up which was strange, this hardly ever happened until the next day. It soon became apparent that the slow drift into bed with the chosen person was being delayed. It was obvious that some of the hardcore partygoers where expected to leave and those that could stay already knew it.

Carla, obviously feeling a bit nasally disjointed at not being party to whatever the change was, was helped to the door by Julie and Jayne growling sidelong at Debs for throwing herself at her occasional lover's boyfriend and to have a bit more self-respect. 

Jayne and Julie, both used to dealing with argumentative drunks got her to the door and into their taxi, dropping her at the door of her flat and handing her the keys before heading back to their house and a night of passion.

And then there were six; I was sat on the arm of the chair that Tim sat in, Jackie the porn star sat between Ronnie and Viv and it was obvious that she had the choice of whichever one she wanted. I looked at the three of them on the sofa and wondered which one I'd like to share a bed with tonight. Viv, possibly; Ronnie, not sure, although I'd slept with one sibling, I wasn't sure about Ron. Jackie? Fucking hell yes, who wouldn't.

Debs was not her usual calm and in control self; flitting around as if she wanted to avoid whatever came next. I knew what she wanted, it was either me or Tim, and she saw me smile at her.

"Lainey," she said sidling over to me, "Could I borrow Tim for the night," she gabbled out, sober almost, "you did say I could."

"Well," I said looking down at him, "That all depends on Tim," he smiled at me and held his hands to his sides.

"Totally up to you Darling," he said, then with a look all devilry in his eyes added, "Perhaps she should do something nice for you in payment."

I giggled; fucking hell, she'd been doing that for ten years almost!

"I shall miss not seeing that hot little body of hers against mine tonight I must confess," I said with an affected sigh.

Debs stood straight before us, and reached down to the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it up and off, smiling to me the whole time.

Next, came the ridiculous multi coloured Hawaiian shorts that had been hiding her great arse from the assembled company. They landed at her feet, leaving her in just her black lace 'wonderbra' and a matching string. Fuck she looked hot and I did start to regret not having that to play with tonight.

"Dance for me," I said, forgetting that three of her other lovers were in the room. She closed her eyes, and dipped and swayed, running her hands through her shock of gorgeous red hair. Her boobs and bottom held five pairs of eyes in the room. She reached behind her and undid the bra, freeing those tits that I had grabbed, stroked, kissed and sucked so many times before. She even started to turn so the rest of her audience could get a view.

Looking down I could see the huge and uncomfortable bulge in Tim's chinos. I wanted to show off to the girls precisely what I saw in my own brother but didn't want to spoil the surprise for Debs. After all, she'd soon let them know.

Finally, she tucked her thumbs into each side of her panties and backing up to Tim bent forward pushing her arse out to both me and him and lowered them over her hips, slowly down her thighs letting go of them at her knees, to daintily step out of them and spin to face us arms in the arm with all on display for 'our' joint pleasure.

She leant forward putting hands either side of my face and kissed me full on, tongues and everything.

"Thank you Darling Lainey," she said, then naked as a jaybird stood straight offering a hand to Tim. He took it and stood, his erection plain beneath the cloth of his trousers. Ronnie and Viv smiled approvingly but not overly so; bi-curious Jackie looked on in shocked surprise pursing her lips and obviously thinking on how that might feel pushing in and out of her.

I wasn't sure how I felt when my two lovers disappeared through the door and I heard their feet on the stairs.

"Christ Elaine," said Ron, "he has grown into a big strong boy hasn't he."

"Oh yeah," I said my head perked listening for what might be happening. After a few moments it was obvious to everyone including me that I wasn't going to settle until I was in bed with either one of them. Viv picked up on it, and smiled.

"Come with me," she whispered, "and you can listen if you like." I stood, took her gentle hand and a few minutes after they had gone we tiptoed up to her room which I knew was next door to Debs. She turned on the bedside lamps with a grin, "If Debs has left her window open, you should get a pretty good idea of what's going on," she said indicating her own open window.

Viv pulled her door shut as she backed out, but did return a few minutes later with one of the bottles of wine and two glasses. She lay on the bed next to me, not even whispering as we heard the bed springs squeak and the occasional hissed giggle as Lesbian and career single man got it together.

He must have been getting undressed, for in a few moments we heard a soft Scottish voice gasp, "Holy fucking Jesus, look at the size of THAT."

The THAT which had come at the end of her sentence sounded just the slightest bit apprehensive but in a good way.

I could hear her talking to him and him replying; I expected that she would try and take control thinking Tim some kind of shrinking violet and uneducated boy. After all she had no idea of the fun that Tim and had gotten up to at our various places.

I strained to hear what was going on, I heard gasps, ooh's and aah's as Debs worked on Tim and Tim reciprocated. I knew what she sounded like while she was being pleasured and she was getting it – after all I had taught Tim just what to do, and she had taught me, she came.

As she cried through her orgasm Viv took hold of my hand and squeezed. It was a real turn on listening to what was going on. Next I heard muttering of Debs.

"She's starting to play up to him," hissed Viv, her face right by mine, her breath tickling deep in my ear and turning me on.

At last I heard the familiar squeaky sound of someone moving on the bed and Tim talking Debs down, we then heard Tim cry out; I knew he had come – by the sounds of Debs gasping and gurgling it had been in her mouth.

Viv rested her head back and closed her eyes, when she opened them it was to see me gently lifting the edges of my blouse back across my chest to expose my large boobs, the bra that had contained them now folded in my hand bag. 

I looked at Viv and smiled. If Debs description was half as good as fact, I was in for one hell of an orgasmic night.

Driving home the next afternoon, we both recounted what had happened to us.

Tim had kept his gift under wraps until the last minute and I'd heard for myself the effect that he'd had on her. She'd dropped to her knees and had sucked him, getting into the new experience of oral with a man rather than a woman.

He had reciprocated and they'd sixty-nined each other for a good ten minutes, Debs getting used to the feel of a hard cock in her mouth. She had limited experience sucking a man and Tim had only had oral from me. But I had told him Debs was a closet sub and liked to be dominated. He did what came naturally. With her laying down his body and her lips around his knob end, he stopped sucking and licking her and laid his hands on her soft round buttocks before him, softly stroking, squeezing and paying the most intimate attention to them. He squeezed them and pawed them, even going so far as to push saliva wet fingers into her anus and pussy. He scrubbed at her G-spot the same way she taught me to, and was soon gasping as she tried to suck him off. This was one sexual act she wasn't expert at, only having done it once or twice to old college boyfriends when she was experimenting.

Tim started to give her instructions and the gasped groan responses her got told him he was doing it just right. So thinking on the whole 'submissive' thing he told her NOT to make him come, so of course went out of her way to make sure she did, and she tasted not the tart softness of girl, but male sperm, for the very first time as it happened. She gagged a bit as her mouth was filled and he ordered her to swallow it all, holding her head gently in place until he'd come. She continued to suck and lick him, until he started to flinch. Once she had finished he told her that she had disobeyed her and that she'd need to be punished.

"Oh, but I did try sir," she begged, quite convincingly. After all, I was just next door on her girlfriends bed listening.

"Not good enough Missy," he said, turning round to flop his feet over the edge of the bed and flipping her tiny form around, so she was across her lap in the classic 'over the knee' position she loved so much, and he pinned her to his lap with his left arm lifting his right high above her arched buttocks that tensed and relaxed awaiting his special attention.

In the next room, I lay in a similar position and almost as soon as I heard the slap of Tim's palm on Deb's bum I felt Viv take a firm grip across my waist and then her hand descend on mine. I'd had the occasional slap when making love but never like this. I was being disciplined, dominated and spanked and Viv knew exactly how much to give a relative newcomer like me. She smacked only lightly at first rubbing my bottom between each slap. It was amazing; I didn't think that I'd ever get into pain, but the pain was really quite minimal, it was more about the denial of any of my wishes or desires, the absolute control that Viv exerted over me as she stopped her spanking and moved me around the bed doing what she wanted to me with lips, fingers, tongue and teeth making me come time after time. 




The Really Complicated Family Ch. 07



Each time I tried to do something to show her how much I was enjoying myself and tried to give her back some of the joy, she would gently tell me off, and lay me back down on the bed and smack my bottom admonishing me for not doing what I was told.

Not having Viv's experience he had spanked Debs until her arse was a fiery red, his hand sore and she had the first inkling of tears in her eyes. It was worse than Viv had ever given her but she was in heaven. Tim had unlocked the true submissive in her and for ever after he could command her to do whatever he felt like, whenever he felt like it. Had it not been for me and our mutual love, I'm sure she would have considered givimg up her lifestyle for a chance with him. 

I felt Viv's fingers stop momentarily in my cunt and arse as we heard Debs cry out. 

"Holy fucking Christ!" she gasped, "It's soft, it's warm, it's wonderful," she shrieked, then her voice relaxed, "That is SOOOOOO much better than a strap on..."

During what turned out to be my last spanking I lay across Viv's lap listening to the rhythmic 'squeak squark, squeak squark, squeak squark' as Tim got in his stride, and Viv and I lay there in silence with me smiling up at her.

They fucked only once that evening, using one of the condoms she'd had in her bedside cabinet for reasons she could not even remember. She rolled them over his cock, and pulled the end down, it was at least two centimetres from his pubic hair. The de-sensitisation offered by the condom meant that Tim could fuck on and on, for even longer than he did with me just using his excellent self-control. He moved her tiny body around, flipped her over at will, taking her in all of the positions we had experimented with in the many months we had been fucking.

He woke as Debs slid from the bed at something like three in the morning and he watched her pad painfully across the room with a mixture of a sore bottom and a pussy well fucked from all angles. Naked she gently kissed me awake, as I lay in a warm circle of Viv's long, slim arms,

"All change Darling," Debs whispered into my face as she kissed me again, slipping a tongue between my lips and she sat next to me, "Your man is next door waiting for you Darling, thanks for the loan," I sat up next to her still naked, and fancying her like fuck.

"You're most welcome Darling," I said, "You know where he is when you want him next time."

"Thank you," she whispered stroking my face as I saw a single tear form in her eye; she wiped it, and helped me stand up, "I might just take you up on that offer once in a while."

I placed a hand on her boob, squeezing and kissed her again, "Don't you dare forget me though," I said, "or I'll have to smack your arse for you too."

"Oh fuck yeah," she hissed mashing her lips against mine then leaning back and spreading her legs slightly, she took my hand to cup her hot pussy. "Your brother is THE most amazing fuck," she said with a slight tremble in her voice that calmed all my fears, "you hang on to him."

"I intend to Darling," I said squeezing her puss, "I totally intend to."

I kissed her one last time and hugged her, before standing up. Debs sat on the side of Viv's bed and lay where I had been a few moments before; Viv woke just enough to smile at me and blow a kiss and pull Debs into her arms in the way she had me. She put her hands on Debs bottom that even in the moonlight looked pinker than the rest of her body,

"Oh my poor baby," she whispered into Debs face as she kissed her cheek and pulled her into her, "I'll kiss it better..."

"Thank you Viv," Debs said with her eyelids lowered in submission, "that would be wonderful," her eyes flashed open in devilment, "no one is getting near my cunt for at least a week though."

"We'll see," hissed Viv, pulling her into a protective embrace, as I tiptoed into Debs' room and slid in next to Tim who was waiting for me. 

In my handbag was my purse and in that were my contraceptive pills. I popped that days one, put it in my mouth and drank some of the water in the glass by the bed. My uterus still throbbing from the number of orgasms and my bottom tingling gently I fell into the most wonderful warm and restful sleep in my Darling brothers arms; it had been a great night for all four of us but I kind of got the feeling that it was only ever going to be the occasional dalliance, rather than once a week, we all knew where we belonged and to whom.

The next week came another big change in our lives, one that would bring the new start I'd been looking for.

The world of county school teachers is actually smaller than you would think; the old friend of mine that I had taken over from as deputy head when she moved up (and had actually recommended me for her job) was getting ready to retire from teaching altogether. For a second time she recommended me as her replacement to her employers - I was even forwarded a copy of the email she sent to the board of governors.

She had used words like 'totally reliable', 'the most natural school teacher it's been my pleasure to work with' and even a 'totally focussed on the education of young people in her care'. She obviously didn't know about Tim!

So for the first time in my life I'd been head hunted; it was a primary about thirty miles away from mine in distance but thousands in concept. This was no post-war social housing estate, nice as it was; it was a very sweet rather twee little nest of commuter belt villages further out into the Surrey countryside and just from the look of the properties in those villages and the cars outside them I knew what I was going to get. 

It would be very serious professional yummy mummies taking career breaks from the management team, the architectural practice or solicitors office, all parked up with the four wheel drive Chelsea tractors they had to buy now they had children to protect but still hankered after the MG's, VW Golf's and other silly single girl sports cars they had owned. 

They'd be nattering to each other for twenty minutes outside school dressed in their designer skinny jeans and horsey and yachty jackets on before heading for the local tea shop for half a salad sandwich and a skinny latte which would be left to get cold.

It was - totally; interviewed by the board of governors I had dressed appropriately buying labels for the first time in my life. It was an investment, and when I showed Tim the pay scale he said simply, "how fucking much?" 

But it worked brilliantly. My VW Golf had the soft top down, I'd held my tinted hair back with a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses I'd borrowed from a mate at my school. Just as I practised, I trotted out all of the bullshit management speak I'd been listening to since Tony Blair came to power and they lapped it up. 

An older lady, a councillor asked what my husband did and was he in teaching, and I gave her a sharp look; my friend had warned me about this old harridan that was of the Margaret Thatcher mould and smiling at me and placed a hand over her other hand hiding the ring finger; I did likewise. I hadn't spoke of husband or children and was not about to shout out that I was not actually married but got regularly shafted by my younger brother.

One of the Yummies cast the councillor a filthy look and, misinterpreting my guilt for anger mumbled something like, "Marjorie, I don't think you're allowed to ask that kind of thing these days."

I smiled and nodded but had recovered, 

"My partner and I are very settled," I said, "extremely long relationship, childhood sweethearts in fact," I said to the worried looking councillor.

"Thank you Mrs Barnes," said the chairwoman of the board of governors, "we have a one more candidate to interview, would you like a tour of the school before you go?" I nodded and smiled and the councillor took my arm and led me through the office to the main hall. 

Then to classrooms and to all the perfect little Edward's, Samuel's, Zac's, Jack's, Henry's, Megan's, Martha's, Tamara's, Annabel's and Isabel's I just knew would be there in their perfect Osh Kosh and Debenhams clothes. And they all were; sweet, well behaved and robotic - the Stepford school in fact. I'd soon change that if I got the job.

The councillor showed me out just in time to welcome the next candidate, a younger girl who didn't seem to have put in the amount of work I had in the fashion stakes. I found the local tea shop, stopped outside and, low and behold, it was half full with yummy mummies, eating half a sandwich with bottled water and complaining loudly about their bio rhythms, their pregnancies, how awful it was about pooooooor Louisa, how great the latest hair colour looked and how they were looking forward to the next child.

Feeling I didn't have much chance I thought 'fuck the audience eat something bad' and asked for a BLT on crusty white bread, mayo if they had some. I was starving having skipped breakfast through nerves that morning.

The sandwich was wonderful and I ate all of it with my yummies watching my every mouthful in part pity, part jealously, but thought fuck 'em and was well pleased with my decision.

I arrived home after some shopping just after Tim got in and we shared our news of the day, mine being about the interview. Within seconds of Tim asking 'well go on, how do you think you did?' the phone rang and I took a deep breath and picked it up. I leant towards Tim so he could share the earpiece.

"Ahh Good afternoon," said the voice, "is that Mrs Elaine Barnes?" I said that it was and Tim looked at me mouthing 'Mrs?' with a confused look on his face.

"Yes it is," I said, "how can I help?"

"Mrs Barnes," said the educated voice, "can I first thank you so much for taking the time to come out and see us today," Tim and I looked at each other and shook our heads, it didn't bode well. "Secondly, it's my great pleasure to offer you the post of head teacher at our little school,"

I was stunned. I didn't think for a second I'd had a chance.

"Thank you," I said, "Thank you very much, I accept."

"Wonderful Mrs Barnes," she said, "knowing what you want and what you believe in, it's just the kind of direction our little school is looking for to lead us into the twenty first century." She went on to say seeing as my friend retired at the end of the summer term, I should start at the beginning of the Autumn term after the holidays and that way I could let my school know I was away and allow them to fill my post in the few months before. I thanked her again, put the phone down and jumped onto Tim's lap grabbing his shoulders and shaking them.

"Well Mrs Barnes, that's fantastic,"

"Thank you so much Mr Barnes," I replied.

"So, do I take it then," he said, "for the purposes of St Agatha's Country School for the educational privileged that I am Mr Barnes?"

"Yes," I said, "I think so, how's this..."

I laid out the plan I'd been working on ever since he'd moved in. 

We move closer to this new school, it was actually closer to his grammar school. We buy the new place as Mr and Mrs Barnes, no one knows us there, no one will look askance at us or count the number of sheets on the washing line or look twice if we perhaps walked to the local pub hand in hand or snogged in the car on the drive.

He agreed at once; it was April we had five months to make it happen. My house sold fast and with the profit I made on it and the money that Tim had banked, we picked out a lovely four bedroom detached place just outside the village with my school in it. Four bedrooms because I was going to definitely invite the Camden crew to come for weekends in the country.

I gave the head teacher my resignation and her face burst into a huge grin. She of course had provided a shining reference for me, and was pleased as well as sad to be losing me. I'd only told a few people that I was going for this job and I finally told my fellow teachers and we all hugged and cried. At the end of term the Head announced to the whole school I was leaving and I was presented with flowers, cards, and book tokens as a going away present.

Over the holidays Tim and I moved. The stuff that had seemed to fill 'our' little two bedroom place got lost in this one and at last Tim had somewhere for his model trains although it did all stay in the boxes for a few years. We didn't have to decorate that much as the last owner had great taste and our furniture fitted well with their colour scheme.

We carried the last few boxes in, and Tim called me outside to his camper van, opening the glove compartment.

"Here you are Mrs Barnes, a little something for you," he bent to one knee, took my hand and slipped a diamond encrusted white gold band over my ring finger on my left hand. I could only stare at it in astonished joy, and before I could so much as utter a thank you, he picked me up and carried me over the threshold. "I now pronounce us Husband and Wife," he grinned, kissing me.

Our tongues clashed and he carried me up the stairs as I was and through to the master bedroom, placing me carefully on the bed.

"No," I stammered, "I've prepared a little something too, go and have a shower and let me know when you've finished," I said, "Trust me!" 

He did as he was told and headed for the bathroom with a distinct bulge in his pants. I got busy in the kitchen and the garden, before heading to the bathroom when he was done. It wasn't easy as we had barely moved in and everything was in bags.

I made the bed, left a tray of champagne, strawberries, whipped cream and a large gooey cake, before snatching a bag from my wardrobe. Originally this feast had been to celebrate moving in, not the commitment we were about to make.

Tim and I had been lovers for almost eighteen months by this stage but I was as nervous as a virgin bride.

The bathroom was on-suite and it was with trembling fingers that I opened the door into the bedroom. I stepped though into the room and Tim gasped; I was wearing a white lace almost full length nightdress that I had bought just for an occasion like this a year ago, as we became closer and closer.

I carried a small posy of flowers from our new garden that matched the crown of them in my hair over the thin veil (the tiny net curtain from the hall window actually) that I had pinned into my hair. With eyes down I walked to where Tim was sat on the side of the bed. He stood up, stunned to silence.

"My Darling Tim," I said desperately trying to control my emotions and looking up into his face, "You are the only man in the world for me, I want to spend the rest of my life being your wife, I love you more than life itself, you ARE my world."

He took my hand, dropping to one knee again, holding the wedding ring he'd bought, kissing it and my hand,

"My Darling Elaine, you have made me the happiest man in the world, I want to spend the rest of my life with YOU, looking after you and making love to you. I am the luckiest man in the world and I thank the heavens every day that I found you, and that you love me. You are my world Elaine and I promise I will be your husband and I will look after you every day in every way for the rest of my life."

By this stage I had tears pouring down my face and Tim raised the veil from my face and we kissed, softly, passionately, laughing at the sheer joy we had discovered in each other and the promises we had just made one another.

Needless to say we made love, for once not on my hands and knees but it the good old fashioned missionary, so we could gaze into each-other's eyes and grin like a couple of soppy kids.

"Are you OK with not getting married?" he asked.

I smiled,

"We don't have a lot of choice Darling," I said, "I'm not sure the Church of England or Surrey Police would be too pleased if we turned up at the village church in a Rolls Royce and Mr Barnes and Miss Barnes getting married."

"I'll make it special," he said, "I promise,"

I took his face in my hands and kissed his lips passionately.

"You already have," I sighed.

I've only taken that ring off twice in my life.

We did what we said and met everyone in the small communities; 'Oh Mr and Mrs Barnes, both teachers, such a lovely couple, she's the new head teacher at the school. He teaches at the Grammar in town," I could hear as I dried my hands in the tea shop bathroom, Tim was outside looking in the window of the shop next door waiting for me. I paused, 'Oh yes, lovely couple, you can see how much in love they are, never more than ten feet apart!' I heard the narrator say, and my chest almost bursting with pride I stepped out, thanked them for lunch and we walked home, hand in hand.

That night Tim suggested an early night, and seemed distracted by something; I knew if it was bad he'd tell me simply because we discussed everything. A good night's sleep would sort everything.

He got up at three thirty and I heard him walk downstairs. Hmm, I'll give him half an hour then go find out what his problem was. But at four he was back and presented me with a cup of tea and two slices of toast.

"Tim," I gasped, "it's four in the morning, whatever..."

He smiled at me handing me my toast that I'd put down,

"Yes," he said, "and the taxi will be here in an hour and half, eat your breakfast." He said.

"Taxi?"

"Taxi." He replied. His beaming grin told me not to worry too much and naked he pulled me through to the furthest guest bedroom and the two suitcases open on the bed.

"Caribbean paradise holiday," he said stroking my back then putting his big strong arms around me to cup my boobs, "14 nights, just check I haven't missed anything."

His packing was fantastic, he'd put in swimwear even going as far to buy more including bikinis' next to this was night wear, shorts, tops, shoes and a couple of long flowing dresses, "we can buy stuff there if I've forgotten anything," he said, and pulled open a drawer and removing our passports and a dark blue envelope that must have contained tickets. Being a school teacher in the South of England meant you had to have a passport that was recent, I'd done coach trips to France once a year for the last ten!

"Delayed honeymoon Darling," he said turning me in his arms to kiss me. It was added to the list of some of the most wonderfully romantic things that he'd done for me.

At Heathrow he took care of everything. This was of course pre-9/11 and flying was so much easier. I walked round the shops and bought myself a pair of Ray-Bans like I'd borrowed for my interview then bought a pair for Tim, classic 'Blues Brothers' black Wayfarers and he looked brilliant in them.

Once sat on the plane and strapped in, I had my next surprise; our destination wasn't the Caribbean it was Hawaii! I'd only ever flown short flights to the Med – Spain, Portugal – and once to Paris on a hen weekend.

"You said the Caribbean!" I chided him, still holding his hand in my excitement.

"Well, we go past the Caribbean," he said, "anyway I was aiming for Caribbean 'style'" he said, "just to make sure you had the right gear packed."

I did; we landed at Oahu airport 15 hours later tired but relaxed to find it was still daytime, eleven hours behind GMT! We took our hotel's bus to our beachfront paradise, and it was just that. Given our floral Lei's at reception we were shown to our oceanfront room loaded with everything we could possibly have wanted. 

I had a shower to freshen both my body and mind, and I put on my a peach bikini, grabbed a bottle of factor fifty, and walked out onto a white sandy beach for the first time in my life, and joined Tim laying on a lounger. He was sipping at a long drink with all kinds of fruit and things in it and passed one to me. He sprayed the sun cream all over me and I let him rub it in. Feeling more yummie than I had ever I put on my Ray-bans and walked down to the ocean, feeling fucking brilliant.

The next morning after a great breakfast, he asked me to rub sun cream on his back and I did; he said that my ring was scratching his back and asked me to take it off. He tucked it into the tiny pocket on his shorts, and promised to give it back later in the day. I found out later what he meant.




The Really Complicated Family Ch. 07



At four that afternoon two beautiful girls arrived at the room and said they were there to give me a massage, facial, manicure, pedicure and the last thing as the sun began to set they set my hair and made me up. Tim had been absent during this, and I realised that he wasn't even in the room. Standing up from the massage chair, I noticed that one of the girls was holding a beautiful light white dress, and I finally got what was happening. Candles had appeared at our door onto the beach and as the sun set the two girls held my hands and led me out. Tim was stood under an arch with a guy wearing minister's clothes. A small guitar band played my favourite Beatles song 'here, there and everywhere' – with a huge grin on my face I slowly walked to the arch where we were given some more Lei's and I was handed a large bouquet to hold in front of me.

As the sun slowly set I heard the minster call our names and at a little after eight o'clock that night I Elaine Margaret took Timothy John as my wedded husband and he took me for his wife, and I got my ring back.

We danced our first dance as husband and wife and once we finished holding each other and kissing each other we were led into the hotel and into the restaurant. We didn't know anyone in the place but with that wonderful good nature common to Hawaii and the rest of the US, we walked into the quiet restaurant to a storm of applause and I felt my cheeks burning in embarrassment, but everyone reached for our hands to shake, and kisses on our cheeks in congratulations.

Eventually shown to a private booth we were treated to the most fantastic meal and at least three bottles of champagne sent by well-wishers. At the end of our meal we were presented with a new thing, something the waiter called a DVD! 

Two days later a large white album of photographs was left in our hotel room with a copy of our marriage certificate. I've no idea if certificate means anything to anyone – I've not shown it to anyone or ever been asked for it, and those lovely Hawaiians never seemed interested in the fact we were already called Barnes.

Our honeymoon was wonderful and we returned home for the rest of the summer even more in love than we were before. We had a barbecue and invited the Camden girls and friends from work to celebrate, our new house and garden perfect for this. The posse stayed of course!



The Really Complicated Family Ch. 08



Our wedding barbecue was lovely. Everyone kind of knew that we had lived together for years, and the marriage thing was 'just something romantic we decided to do while on holiday'. But we decided to celebrate it anyway. The only people we didn't invite was Uncle Dan and Trish; after all, they weren't the funky individuals that the Camden Posse were. We had visited them quite a few times since Tim moved south and we never really went over our domestic arrangements over and above living in the same big house in the country village near my school.

The party was tremendous fun, and we had a marquee in the garden, DJ with a karaoke machine, lots of booze and good barbecue and a strictly limited number of lesbians. The Lesbians where to be the only people to sleep over of course.

The DJ left a bit before midnight, and most of the party broke up at that stage. The guests all went their own quiet ways in various taxis, the locals on foot and even a few even on push-bikes. The girls went up to their bedrooms – a bit early we noticed.

By the time we loaded the last of the stuff into the dishwasher, the girls were noticeable by their absence. Tim and I giggled, exchanged a few giggles and more than a few passionate kisses mindful of what the girls would be up to in their rooms and what they might be doing or what we could expect from them. I was to find out.

We started to shut the house down and turn off lights slowly making our way upstairs to our bedroom. Tim was doing the man thing and I was already heading for the bathroom, as soon as I turned to go into the big bathroom, I noticed Debs' gorgeous and made up face peaking round the door of the bigger of the spare bedrooms.

"Lainey!" she giggled excitedly waving that I should come in the room with her. I smiled with my hands on my hips, it had obviously started.

I stepped past the door and peaked around the corner to see what was happening. To my shock I saw that not only was the gorgeous Debs dressed to kill in black lacy underwear with stockings and suspenders, so was Viv AND Ronnie! They had all gone the whole hog and made up perfectly, something they rarely did, as they all preferred the natural look normally.

"Darling," said Ron smooching across to me, looking shit-hot and devilishly sexy in the kind of gear I'd never seen her in before, "We've decided to give you and Tim a stag come hen party, seeing as neither of you had one before you got married."

"What?" I said incredulously, it was getting on for one in the morning! I could hear from the giggles and slight slurs that they were drunk. Not so drunk as to be silly but drunk enough to lose any kind of inhibitions they might have had.

They all three came across to me and took me into my bedroom demanding to know where my black underwear was and pretty soon I was hurried out of the room into their room and they all three stripped me, dressed me in a skimpy almost transparent black baby doll and some black hold-ups. 

By this stage Tim had made it to the bathroom, and had done what he'd had to and headed to our room for bed. With butterflies in my tummy, we all took glasses of wine and headed along the corridor giggling like we were St Trinian's girls off to raid a boys' dorm.

"Remember girls," said Ron sipping from her glass at my bedroom door, "I want breathtaking, I want pure sex; our poor Tim is going to know quite what the fuck to expect or what the fuck has hit him."

We pushed the door open, he had the two bedside lamps on and the room was nicely but gently lit and I went in first, sliding in as sexily as I could – for once not even tempted to giggle. Tim was sat up in bed, his top half naked and his bottom half covered by bedclothes. He had a huge smile on his face, he still loved me in black underwear; his smile was frozen temporarily as Viv came and stood next to me, putting an arm around my shoulder and leaning against me with a hand on my hip. I saw him mouth the words "fuckin' hell" as Viv rested her head against my shoulder and pouted her full red lips towards him. I'd made love to her already, and knew what she kept hidden under her stylish clothes, but this was a first for Tim. If that wasn't enough Ron slid in next looking amazingly sexy in her black lace ensemble. She was the eldest of the group in her forties, and definitely put the ILF in MILF.

She slipped in behind me and took her place on the other side, putting an arm around my waist laying her hand gently on me while and resting the other on my hip, me little realising that in doing so she had bared my virtually shaved pussy. Finally the red haired dynamo herself came in, her black one piece looking virtually pornographic as it clung to her body. She looked at the three of us, put her hands on her hips and pouted as their didn't seem to be a place for her in this sexy tableau, then looking at my bare pussy, knelt forward pointing her black thong covered arse at Tim and putting her face to my cunt giving me a long, teasing loving lick from the bottom of my labia up to my clit and its covering hood.

I trembled, and looked down at Debs smiling up at me and she took another lick, just for devilment.

On an unspoken signal they moved and slid across the room like three fashion models swinging their hips meaningfully and bearing down on Tim.

The thin summer duvet was pulled away from him in a flash, and I was pleased to see that his condition didn't let me down. Much as they were trying to be sexy and a little shocking, at the sight of his huge erection proudly standing out from him obscenely. 

"This is your stag party Tim," said Ronnie, "we all decided that seeing as you didn't have the chance to go out with your mates and get pissed, and watch a stripper, we thought we'd put on a little show for you."

"Later on, it'll be Lainey's turn," said Debs excitedly, "once we've finished with you of course."

"Well well Tim," said Ron, "I can see what Debs was so impressed with; girls, we need to inspect this more closely."

They crawled across the bed at him and he spread his legs to allow them better access. I stepped closer and took my place between Debs and Ron as they stuck their arses in the air and leaned in.

At once Tim had four hot women so close to his penis that he confessed to me later he could feel all four of us breathing on his penis. I knew that he would be excited but also that his self-control would mean he'd be able to hold off coming, all the time he wanted to of course.

Again, as if on an unspoken signal we leaned in and extended our tongues to lick at whichever bit of his penis we could reach. I took a swipe at his large red helmet, and was pleased to see that Debs was on the other side licking too.

"I almost forgot," said Ron, "stay doing what you're doing ladies, I'll be right back."

With slightly more room now we went at Tim's cock with more gusto, noticing that Viv wasn't quite so keen as we were – but then Viv was a career dyke and had never been fucked, at least not with a flesh and blood penis that is. Debs was just remonstrating with her as I felt a hand on my bottom, looking across I saw that Debs was getting the same grope that I was. Tim's idle hands had settled on our arses and I guessed that after some initial stroking and groping me might get a few playful spanks.

"Come on now Vivienne," said Ronnie from behind us, "you should get a bit more involved you know." As she said this there was a flash of white light and the click and whirr of a camera shutter. We all turned to see Ron with a Polaroid camera, digital ones still being a bit expensive in those days. Ron took the picture and laid it on the dressing table, then turned round so she get closer and get our faces or our bottoms, and Tim's cock, into frame. She snapped away laying more pictures on the table, then Debs said it was Ron's turn to slobber over Tim's magnificent penis.

Again, I detected an air of hesitation from Ronnie. She'd told me that she'd slept with a few men while at University, and two years back had even got into a bit of a snogging session with a visiting male professor from Brown that she found attractive for some reason.

But this was the first proper experience with cock for both of them, for Ronnie in quite a few years. But they did what they were told and licked and sucked. Debs put the camera down and opening the front of her bustier fed one of her nipples into Tim's mouth and he feasted gratefully. After a few moments of watching I decided I wanted the other one, and let's face it, as soon as we girls got on with it Ron and Viv could happily get on with whatever they really wanted to do leaving Tim to me and Debs.

That was the way it went. Within moments of me sucking on Debs great tits Ron and Viv were kissing, albeit with Tim's cock getting the occasional bit of attention. Debs had her head thrown back and noticed what her housemates were getting up to.

"Oi! You two, this is supposed to be about the happy couple not you."

"This is about them, you cheeky tartan bitch, just you wait to I get you home, I'll tan your arse for you," Ron chuckled, then smiling up at him dropped her mouth over the head of Tim's cock and started to bounce her head up and down fucking him with her mouth at speed, and he groaned looking down at his half-sister blowing him. Even though she was a Lesbian, she knew what to do with a penis, and Tim was realising it.

"Christ," he gasped, "I'm nearly..." He was cut short by Debs forcing her tit into his mouth, the reason that would soon become clear

"Stand back captain," whispered Debs in my ear in her best Star Trek Scottie voice, "He's about tee blow!" At the same time she laid a gentle hand on Ronnie's face and stroked.

And moments later he did blow, spurting his first blast into Ronnie's mouth; instinctively she drew back but Deb's hand on her face kept her there. She did pull away though but kept wanking him smiling at his plumes of sperm that shot splattered from her chin to land on his belly and on Viv's face as she was not fast enough to pull away before he came. Debs and I both kissed him and pushed our tits into his face laughing as he came.

After a few moments of this and some cooling down, Debs laughed when she saw Tim's come running down her girlfriends soft cheek.

"Viv's got a facial," she teased; no matter how uncomfortable she was, Viv looked fucking sexy and I left kissing Tim and pushing my big tits all over him to slide over to her. Tim was pretty much still hard so in moving to Viv I lifted myself over him, and with Ronnie's assistance slid my sopping pussy down onto his penis. I felt him stiffen a bit.

"Come here Viv," I commanded, and with a smile she sat up and moved her body to me. Getting comfortable I put my hands to either side of her face and slowly started to lick Tim's thick come off of her face, stopping at least twice to French kiss her, knowing that my tongue would taste of him. I tried to work my pussy muscles at the same time and licking Viv's face and licking the remaining semen off of it. Ron in the meantime had taken to stroking my bottom and down Tim's penis rubbing his balls.

Deb was now French kissing Tim and he was trying to pull the small one piece from her and was alternately squeezing and mauling her tits and arse and looking pleased into the bargain. Taken with this idea, Viv had started to squeeze and suckle my tits, nipping my nipples into the bargain. Part of me suddenly wanted Tim to be fucking me on my hands and knees while Viv spanked me!

Ronnie's hand had found my clit and all of the sperm gone from Viv's face I had begun to fuck Tim in earnest. The Camden Posse were now all totally taken up with pleasuring Tim and I and Ronnie's expert finger had me trembling dizzily and the final straw was another finger, I know not who's, being pushed into my anus and the extra pressure on my G-spot had me crying out in a fantastic orgasm and all of the girls smiled in delight.

"Awww," said Debs, "no fair, someone else should have a turn before Tim comes again." I was pretty sure that on the face of it Viv and Ron wouldn't want to partake but little Debs was chomping at the bit to have a go. I leant back against Tim and reached back to kiss his face, while he kissed my cheek. He put both hands around me and squeezed me tight grasping both of my boobs in the same way he did when we snuggled. I grinned at him, shit I was so much in love!

But I was going to share, and hugging his hands I leaned forward and pulled myself off of his still hard cock, and climbed off of him, indicating that someone else should take my place on it.

"I think Viv should have a go," said Debs clapping her hands, "she's a VIRGIN," she exclaimed, "just thirty six and never been fucked!"

"Yeeeeeees," said Ronnie, "if you're going to lose your cherry Vivienne, I don't think there are many cocks nicer to lose it to than this one."

Viv, still sat on her haunches, folded her arms and looked down at Tim and at all of us. I got the feeling that wasn't objecting penetrative sex with a man, with MY man, but I think that, in the same way Deb's had, she wanted to do it in private. She reached out and stroked Tim's cock, my juices just starting to dry on it, then looked thoughtful.

"OK," she said tucking her thumbs into her black panties, as if their removal was a part of the bargain, "I'll have sex with Tim..." she pushed her panties down as far as he knees and I saw that she was still clean shaven, "if the tartan terror," she nodded at Debs and she swung her legs out from under her and flicked her knickers off in the same move, "gets buggered by the big boy here."

Deb's looked quizzical for a few seconds, the term 'buggered' having several meanings in the UK, then the realisation struck her.

"Up the arse Darling girl," said Viv mischievously lifting Debs chin and pecking her on the lips with a tiny kiss.

Debs looked at Tim's penis, she'd been fucked from behind with it of course, but feeling it sliding past her rectum into her tightest hole was going to be different. I bit my lip, trying desperately not to giggle.

Debs narrowed her eyes and gave her lover Viv a look soooooo 'old fashioned' it must have had antique value. She looked at me, and I nodded excitedly beaming a huge grin at her and hoping that I was giving her a positive message.

"Up the arse ah?" she looked at Tim smiling coyly, "Lainey has obviously been there and is impressed," she knelt across with both arms on his shoulder and put her head to one side. "Timmmmy," she pleaded, "if I let you fuck me up the arse, will you be gentle with me?" He nodded.

"Of course Debs; will I be your first?"

"My first prick," she said, "had any number of fingers and vibes and strap-ons," she ground herself on his cock squished under her, "but you'll be my first human."

"Oh another anal virgin," he said, "how fantastic!"

"Was Tim your first Elaine?" she said smiling at me. I nodded. "Well then Tim," she said, "please," she panted in a real porn film actress voice, "fuck me up the arse." He nodded and she locked her mouth over his kissing him passionately. She stopped kissing him, then looked sidelong at Viv, "right after you've taken Viv on her hands and knees of course..." 

A giggling Debs had played with, sucked and generally fawned over Tim's hard upstanding penis and then slid a condom over as much of it as she could. I suppose she must have brought them with her just for this moment.

Viv was laying on her back thighs apart, and I got the impression that at this time she 'wanted to be alone with Tim. Part of me wanted to stay and watch Tim in action with another woman but another part of me definitely didn't, so I backed away to the door. Debs spotted me,

"Pop next door and get on your hands and knees Darling, I'll be through in a moment." As I left the room, I saw that Ron was still between Viv's thighs licking at her pussy, while Debs idly rubbed up and down Tim's covered prick.

I stripped off my ridiculous negligee and lay back on the bed, the bedside clock announced that it was two in the morning, but I didn't want to sleep. I hadn't had Debs in what seemed liked ages and I was looking forward to getting it on with the little minx. My pussy tingled and I raked my fingernails through what was left of my bush, and rolled onto my hands and knees, even going so far as to spread my knees a little further.

Behind me I heard a pleased purr and felt warm hands lay on each cheek of my bottom and gently separate them and I joined in with the gentle purr as I felt warm breath on my vagina and anus. The breath was soon joined by a gentle tongue that licked across my labia and rimmed my anus, even pushing in to the tight hole.

Soon one of the hands released a buttock and I guessed that soon it would either start to be pumped into me and I would get royally fisted, probably she'd take more liberties with my anus. My lover did neither. The hand gently stroked my labia until it settled on my clitoris and began quite the most fantastic masturbation. Her face pushed hard into my bottom so her tongue could go hard inside my cunt.

By now I was gasping and on the verge of my second orgasm, the other hand left my other buttock, her face pulled away and I felt a long index finger push into my pussy and strain against my g-spot.

Shit, but she was good. On the third or fourth stroke a second finger was added and I felt slightly fuller, but after a few hard pumps that finger slipped into my anus and I was finger fucked in both holes. I started to tremble into my orgasm, and I hoped I wasn't gushing too much juice - I normally did when my g-spot was interfered with.

I started to come down, and felt those busy hands trying to reposition me, so I gave in and rolled onto my back, letting my thighs be raised so my knees were by my ears. I was going to get tongue bathed and looked down to the face of...

Veronica.

Aunt Veronica, Ron, Ronnie, my half-sister. She lowered her tongue so the tip strummed gently at the clit her spreading middle and index fingers were exposing. I let go of my knees and placed my hands either side of her face, gently brushing her hair and rubbing her cheek. Sighing, she put her mouth to my clit and sucked it into her mouth flicking it with her tongue, her fingers rubbing again at my G-spot. I came again crying out with pleasure and shook with every flick and realised that while the youngest Debs was good, Viv was interesting but Ronnie, the eldest, the den mother, was the best and I came and came until I didn't have an ounce of energy left. Finally Ronnie stopped her oral pleasuring of me and slid her body up mine until we were face to face and cunt to cunt.

Sliding own leg between both of mine she began to scissor me, grinding our pussies together, stretching and pushing until she found the spot and the stroke she liked. Our clits rubbed together, and I pulled Ronnie into me in the way I would if Tim and I were doing missionary, I gasped, cried, giggled and called out Ronnie's name urging her to fuck me, fuck me hard, to take me and make me hers. Fuck, I knew why Debs and Vivienne loved her so much and stayed with her.

Eventually, and with tonnes of encouragement from me, we came. Fucking hell didn't we come. Our boobs rubbed together as I finally snogged my half-sister. OK, I'd spent the last two years making love with my brother before I eventually married him, but this was Ronnie, my model, the woman I'd idolised as the coolest, most sophisticated woman I'd ever known.

My love for Ronnie burst out and I found myself weeping. She stroked my face, and calmed me down, telling me what beautiful girl I was, how I was her darling girl and how lucky we were to have each other. Eventually I slipped exhausted into a deep and peaceful sleep, brought on by the amazing session I'd enjoyed with Ronnie.




The Really Complicated Family Ch. 08



Back in our room, Debs had decided to stay and watch the fun, indicating that Ronnie should go and take care of me. 

Viv had said that she didn't want to have Tim fuck her in the missionary position; having made love with Ronnie, I now think that missionary was something special that she wanted to share only with Ronnie. So she had got onto her hands and knees and had felt Tim behind her as he rested his penis in the cleft of her arse.

Debs was stroking Tim's cock,

"It's beautiful Viv," she said to her girlfriend, "It's hard, it's hard for you darling."

"OK," said Viv her face in the pillows, "I'm ready, put him in me."

Debs gently pushed Tim back then took his cock and levelled it at the entrance to a pussy she knew so well.

Tim pushed in to an already sopping pussy softened, moistened and prepared by Ronnie. 

"Aaaah," hissed Viv as Tim notionally popped her cherry and became the first penis to penetrate her, "Oooh yeah Debs," she added, "Make him do some more,"

Debs put a hand on Tim's bottom, then reached between them to gently cup Tim's balls. She started to move him in and out, and Tim knew that the only way Viv was going to get through this was by Tim being purely an accessory, a six foot flesh and blood sex toy for them both to use. He grinned, and began to fuck Viv, not so much as to spoil things but so he could enjoy the sensations. He already knew that he was not going to come, he was saving that for the lovely and fiery Debs.

So he moved his hips backwards and forwards enjoying the sensations on the end of his penis speeding up as Debs talked her girlfriend towards her orgasm.

"Come on Darling," Debs hissed, "you have this beautiful weapon pushing in and out of you, I want you to come for me." She forgot Tim's testicles for a moment and stroked Viv's bottom stroking across her anus, "I'm going to have this self-same dick up my arse as soon as you've finished darling." She hissied, "come for me!"

To this day Tim doesn't know whether Viv faked it. If she did it was a very good fake, right down to the tremors he felt through the walls of her pussy on the end of his cock that almost made him come – into the condom – but come none the less. He managed to hold back, and withdrew his cock just in time to see Viv and Debs kissing. He knew that his part in that particular deal was over.

He picked up my wine glass and watched as the two women got it on, and as he watched he realised it was just the opportunity for Viv to retake the upper hand, getting more and more in control of the smaller Debs, until she was pinned to the bed with Viv lying on top and controlling the action.

He reached down to the bottom drawer of my dressing table and removed the tube of lubrication we kept there for when he wanted to make love to me in my bottom. Viv saw and rolled to one side grinning across at Tim.

"Your part of the bargain now Darling," she looked down at Debs, I suggest you get on YOUR hands and knees so Tim can enjoy himself at last." With that thought, Tim pulled the condom from his still rock hard penis and squeezed about an inch of the clear gel onto his cock. Next the handed the tube to Viv, nodding at Debs beautiful arse that was now high on the bed and ready for his attention.

Viv knelt on the bed next to her lover and stroked her bottom.

"Are you going to be a good girl and take this like a man Debra?"

"Yes Miss Vivienne, I'll most certainly try."

"Well just make sure that you do missy, it's Tim's turn for an orgasm."

At the same time as saying this she was squeezing a line of lube onto her index finger before replacing the cap on the tube and putting it down on the table. Putting her unlubed hand on the small of Debs back she proceeded to toy with her anus. Tim watched in fascination as the two girls played out their own little game.

Finally the digit was pushed past the tight ring of muscle and gave a tiny, crackly gurgling sound and is slid in and out. A second finger was added and pushed in and out, before finally a third was added to stretch her back passage to something near the size of Tim's penis. Debs had taken the size of Tim's cock and bigger, but the game had to be played out so he climbed on the bed without invitation – it was his bed after all.

"She's ready Tim," said Viv, without even asking Debs if she was. Tim guessed that she must have been and centred his cock on the pinpoint of her anus. It flexed and relaxed as it touched her. 

"Here is comes Deb, relax for me now." He leaned forward gently making her anus stretch around his cock, now bare of condom and able to feel all of the pleasant sensations that fucking this anus would provide.

Debs breathed out slowly.

"Oh don't be so bloody melodramatic Debs for Christ's sake, you've had bigger up there and you know it." Viv slapped a bare buttock and Debs flinched, Tim felt the tightness increase momentarily. Slowly he started in and out, gradually getting used to his new port of entry. "Can I ask a favour Tim, could you hold on for a second." He stopped pushing.

Next thing, he saw Viv moving cushions out of the way, and sitting against the headboard so Debs face was resting in her lap and against her pussy.

"Debra, make me come; Tim enjoy her." Tim needed no further urging and started to fuck Debs arse the way he'd wanted to fuck her girlfriends pussy. With every forward thrust Debs face was pushed into the wet vagina. He could just see some of the action and watched as Viv, oblivious to him, pushed up her negligee to play with her own breasts. After just a few minutes he saw that Viv was getting close to her peak and he hoped that Debs was as well. After all the excitement of the evening he wasn't sure he could control himself for much longer.

As Viv called out Debs name and pulled on her red hair, Tim gave up the battle and pushed hard into Debs arse pumping her bottom full of his seed. Debs cried out as she reached her own crisis point brought on by her own finger furtively playing with her pussy and clit.

"I can feel it," Debs gasped, slightly muffled by Viv's thighs, "His hot come, it's sploshing around in there, each squirt," she hissed, "I can feel... oh fucking Christ!" she cried out.

They slumped into a post orgasmic heap, disturbed only by Viv waking up and taking Debs with her to retire to the third bedroom to spend the remainder of the night together. They were joined by Ronnie ten minutes on after our marathon fuck.

It remained only for Tim to fuck to Ronnie, and with both of them being early risers, she took care of that the next morning when she joined him in the shower.

It came as a real surprise to Tim, not thinking that Ronnie had any kind of desire for him. He was naked in the bathroom shaving as she came in, naked herself. They smiled at each other, mostly comfortable with their nakedness. Viv excused herself but didn't leave the room choosing to sit on the toilet as he continued shaving.

"Did you have a good night Darling?" she said stroking his muscled hairy thigh.

"Fucking amazing," he said, "thank you so much, do I take it that you and Elaine... err."

"Yes," said Ronnie finally letting go a stream of urine, "we had a great time, and it was well worth the wait. She's an amazing, loving, sensual girl, and we are lucky to have her." She stood and grabbing a handful of tissue, blotted her pussy. "Well, you've had her more than most, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah," he replied, "she's beautiful." He looked at HER wonderful body as she stood up and flushed the toilet, "Mind you," he said, "so are you."

"Aww, thanks Tim!" she said grinning. She couldn't pretend that she wasn't impressed with him, only seven hours previously he had come into her mouth and onto her face. Tim noticed she was looking at his cock, occasionally flicking her eyes down at him. Of course being a bloke, it started to harden slightly just with this thought. "Oh Darling," she grinned, "you are pleased to see me aren't you." She moved closer to him and took firm hold of him and started to manipulate it. He wiped the last bits of shaving cream from his face and turned to face her full on. She pumped his cock to bring him to his full, wonderful hardness and made to bend down and kiss it.

"It don't think you'll want to kiss it quite yet Ron," he said, conscious that he hadn't washed since it was up Debs arse the previous night. He leaned across and turned on the shower, pulling the curtain open.

They stepped into the bath, and under the spray of the shower. With handfuls of gel they happily cleaned each-others bodies, giggling and playing. He played with her clit and squeezed her tits, stroking her bottom, slowly working on the other person. Not having a condom she knelt before him and blew him until she knew he was well on his way. He lifted her to her feet, and turned her around, slipping his cock in her flushed pussy and fucked her for a few strokes just to let her get the feel.

With her hands on the edge of the bath she enjoyed his attention, then stopped him. She covered his cock in shower gel and directed him into HER anus. He obliged, fucking and filling her the same way he had Debs the night before and she responded – something none of us, her female lovers had ever seen before, and she flicked her own clit, joining Tim in orgasm as he spent into her.

Epilogue

Two very successful years later, and we had settled into the routine nicely; I was Mrs Barnes, the nice headteacher that had reinvigorated the quiet little school. I brought in a school uniform making the children buy polo shirts and sweatshirts and grey trousers and skirts – no poncey pinafores - and the children encouraged to take pride in them and write, paint, cook and garden in them. I had decreed that the uniform could only be purchased from the school and the days of the little designer darlings was over. I banned cars from the tiny school grounds so the lazy bitches had to walk the three or four hundred yards from both ends of the village to get the kids in, or park in the neighbouring car park and walk from there.

They complained and I ignored them, they raised petitions, tried email protests. One dopey cow even created a 'let working mothers drive to school' website. 

But the funny thing – the tougher I was the more they seemed to love it. The board of governors would clap longer and harder the more upset the parents got, until it became almost impossible for someone to turn down any of my requests and I let it be known that I would tolerate no arguments; after all, all of my decisions were based on common sense or my experience.

The children were talking more, asking questions and demanding answers the way that kids of their age should, I even set up a school council.

Just when everything was going so well, I suffered from one of those winter bugs that developed into a rather nasty chest infection. I worked in a large heated building with 200 4 – 11 year olds; flu vaccines are good, but not that good, and I was prescribed antibiotics. Little did I know that the upset stomach I'd suffered from them would have another consequence.

I missed a period, having just a small dark brown smudge on my knickers but thought nothing of it, thinking that my illness had affected me in this way. It wasn't until the second month had passed and still no period that I began to get a little worried. I checked by birth control pills – all taken.

So, only one way to know for sure, and I went into the nearby town and bought a pregnancy test, no way was I buying one in the village supermarket or pharmacy!

I got home and with a tingle of trepidation, pee'd on the stick and watched for the result. One line;

In the time it took me to look at my watch to see what time Tim would be back the second line had appeared.

Shit.

I was pregnant.

By the time Tim got back the line had faded slightly but was still clear enough to see. I called him to the bedroom where I was sat staring at the pen shaped predictor.

"What's..." he said, then realising what it was, smiled the biggest smile I'd seen on him in years. He knelt on the floor by my feet and whispered "you're pregnant?"

"Err... yes," I said, "I think so." All of my plans seemed to be sweeping towards a vortex to be sucked down. My fantastic job, our great life in this great village, all fucked up and requiring us to move on and start again.

"Wow," he said, looking surprised but not overly shocked, "Problem with the pills?"

"Yes, I think my antibiotics must have disagreed with them." I couldn't look him in the face. He cupped my chin and raised my face so I had to.

"Oh Elaine," he beamed into my face, "I know it wasn't planned or anything but thank you so much," I was snapped out of my vortex temporarily and looked at him.

"Thank you?" I said in amazement.

"Thank you," he said, his eyes misting, "I didn't think I could possibly be any happier than I am now, but having a child to share with you is the most fantastic thing in the world and I can't begin..." his voice broke up with emotion.

I hugged him and the vortex disappeared, just in those few simple but heartfelt words. It would be OK, the world, well OUR world in fact, thought we were husband and wife, and husbands and wives had children. I was entitled to a year's maternity leave with pay and I'd bloody well take them up on it. I'd apologise to the board of governors and explain that it was an extremely happy accident but promise I'd be back in less than a year - if they didn't like it they could talk to the fucking union!

I looked at the box of antibiotics and the small print explained the contraindications and that caution should be taken if used in conjunction with contraceptive pills and the effect could blah blah blah...

I've always read the small print since though.

Nothing happened until some morning sickness in my third month, February, and once that had cleared I felt brave enough to start telling people, my colleagues and the governors first.

Far from the anger I'd expected, I was given hugs and handshakes and congratulated with 'Oh it's the most wonderful thing Mrs Barnes, you won't regret it,' and promises of prams, cots, clothes, car seats and everything I could possibly want.

As my normally flat belly started to swell, I sat down and spoke to the whole school assembly and told them that I wouldn't be back until after the next summer as I was going to have a baby. All two hundred kiddies said "awwwwww" at once and it was all I could do to control my up and down pregnant emotions and not burst into tears. Without doubt one of my most wonderful experience teaching.

I flourished and my waistline expanded, along with my boobs. Tim was always horny and I mean really horny, but during my pregnancy the dirty bastard couldn't keep his hands off of me. We slept naked always and he stroked my swollen belly, occasionally talking to the bump while he did so. He took great delight in massage my body with olive oil against stretch marks – a completely pointless exercise because it didn't do shit to prevent stretch marks and just made me smell like a Greek salad; but it was nice just to have him massage me and pay me such intimate attention. He got to fuck me rigid afterwards of course, and with that oil it slid up all sorts of places, and we kept this up until the night before I went into labour.

I was eight months pregnant and two days short of going on maternity leave. No one had told Baby Barnes this sadly and I felt what I took to be just Braxton-Hicks contractions at a few minutes after mid-day. Jean, my wonderful, helpful, telepathic school secretary looked over her bifocals at me as I caught my breath and rubbed the side of my belly, prior to going for my traditional Wednesday BLT at the tea shop.

"That was a contraction," said Jean, her miracle hearing picking up my second and third sharp intake of breath.

"No," I said, "it's just a Braxton," I said, "they told us about them a few weeks back, it's just my body getting ready."

"I've had three children Darling," said Jean, she always called me 'Darling' when she was worried about me or thought I needed support, "and THAT was a contraction – get your coat and your phone, we're going to the hospital."

I'd recently gone mad and bought Tim and I mobile phones, big and clunky compared to phones of today but useful considering what we were waiting for.

"But..." I said looking at Jean as she picked up her handbag and pulled out her car keys.

"Don't 'But' me Elaine, COAT AND BAG!" 

I was about to adopt my 'in control headteacher' look when I felt a powerful band of pain across the middle of my belly that took my breath away.

"I'll get my bag."

"Bathroom first I think," said Jean, "I have a feeling you'll need it first." While I sat on the loo, waiting for I knew not what, Jean was talking to Tim and telling him he needed to stop what he was doing and get to the maternity department NOW.

Feeling a sudden rush of pain and a release of pressure my waters broke. Thank God Jean was so good at this; that could have been one very embarrassing accident in her car. 

"We have to go now," she said, "or Baby Barnes could get the record for being the youngest child in the school ever."

Jean wouldn't hear of taking my little Golf, insisting that her Ford escort had more room and she was better at driving it, and knew where all the buttons were.

The contractions eased off slightly, with Jean whispering 'thank fuck for that, we might pull this off'. I'd never heard Jean swear in the two years we'd worked together, but she explained later that she was stuck between calling and ambulance and driving me straight to the hospital.

By the time we reached town, Tim had already made it to the hospital and told them I was on my way. He was stood at the main door with a wheelchair, beaming a grin at me and Jean – along with her husband she was a regular visitor to the Barnes house for either barbecues or parties and liked Tim. Although she was straight as a die, she LOVED the Camden posse and their clever and irreverent brand of humour.

She stopped the car by Tim and the chair,

"Don't hang about Timbo," she said, "I reckon you've got about twenty minutes max."

I looked at her in shock,

"What?"

She leaned across to me taking my face in her hands and kissing my forehead,

"Don' worry, you're going to do wonderfully Darling," she said, "you are going to be quite the most fantastic Mother," sounding even more like the Mum I'd always wanted than she normally did, even though she was only fourteen years older than me. My eyes brimmed with tears and I felt my bottom lip tremble for the first time since Nanny Barnes had died almost thirty years before.

"Come with me," I whispered, "please..."

Jean squeezed me tight,

"Of course," she choked wiping a stray tear, "OK baby girl," she whispered in my ear in exactly the same way that Nanny Barnes always did, "let's go make you a mummy."

I was out of the car, whizzed through to the reception where my paperwork was found and I was settled into a small room, on a bed fitted with the stirrups and the blue sheets you always think of in these situations. Tim sat one side of me with Jean on the other. Seeing as I was technically a month early, I hadn't got to do the visit to the maternity ward or attend many of the classes recommended.

By the time I was laying on the bed in just the T-shirt I'd been wearing with my skirt, the contractions were coming in short, regular bursts and Jean and the midwife talked me through what I could expect as it happened. Jean and I were close, but this was a view she'd certainly never had of me. I was naked from the waist down and clutching my knees as each pulse went through my body.

In almost no time, the midwife told me to pant for the head and at a few minutes after two I gave birth to my daughter Grace Jean Barnes, and as Jean pulled up my T-shirt Grace was laid on my belly and wrapped in a towel to be placed in my arms. I fell in love with MY baby girl from that moment, and soon Tim and Jean were leaning over my shoulders getting to know their daughter and god-daughter respectively.




The Really Complicated Family Ch. 08



A nurse had thrown a sheet over my lower half while the cord was cut and they gently removed the afterbirth almost without me realising. They checked it thoroughly before Grace was put into Tim's arms while they checked over my bottom half. The Doctor told me that I was fine and lifted Grace laying her back on my belly, and checking her over. We were all pronounced fit and well and the midwife came back with three cups of tea. Grace was wrapped and placed in a heated see-thru cot as the Doctor was still a bit concerned she was four weeks early. 

Jean couldn't stop smiling at me and held my hand,

"I told you didn't I?" she grinned. I was being detailed by the nurses to go and shower and move out of the delivery room to the ward, so Jean said she would drive back to school, and see to my car and clear my last two days appointments, one of which was a presentation by almost the whole school of cards and gifts. She couldn't stop holding my hand and grinning at me, and eventually slipped away as the nurse started to help me off of the bed. She got back to the school, and by walking to each of the ten class rooms announced to everyone that yes, Mrs Barnes HAD just been taken to hospital but an hour ago she'd had a baby girl called Grace and both were doing really well. 

Tim helped me to a shower room and helped me clean myself up, dressing me in the nightgown the hospital head leant me while Tim went home and got me one.

He got me back to my bed and helped me lie down, seeing Grace in a cot next to the bed already. He kissed me, stared stupidly down at our daughter, then kissed her, promising to phone Ronnie, Viv and Debs and return with the bag we had only half prepared thinking we had three weeks before we'd need to even think about it.

He got home, rang Camden and left a message on the answerphone that they were all Aunties to Grace Jean telling them which ward I was in and what the visiting hours were. He went home, got the bag, and laid on our bed just for a few minutes, but woke up two hours later. By the time he returned to the hospital Ronnie, Viv and Debs were taking turns in hugging their niece or step niece at the very least. It soon became obvious that our Grace was making their hormones stir!

They stayed for a few hours which included my first attempt at breast feeding but Grace didn't latch on. No problem said the midwife, she's not been born six hours, she'll be hungry in a few hours and that'll be that. 

My boobs felt huge and as I lifted them back into a nursing bra I looked around the room thinking that all of them in the room had at some stage played with them and suckled on the nipples. Being adept at reading Deb's thoughts I smiled at her, and she smiled back licking her lips.

The girls were all kicked out at nine; Tim being Baby's father was allowed to stay longer. Sat in the deep chair beside the bed he soon started to nod in his sleep so I sent him home. I now know that Debs had propositioned him, having such fond and recent memories of his huge cock and his prowess in wielding it. He was physically and emotionally shagged, but promised a return bout with Debs as soon as he was fit enough.

Gracie is now ten, and in year five at my school and loved by everyone, Tim and I especially. Her god-mother Jean is still at the school and still looks after me. She was there for the birth of our second daughter Emma, who came along three years after Gracie and is wowing them all in year two.

Ronnie, Viv and Debs are still in Camden, although there is a fourth member of the posse now - Dorothy. A year older the Emma, she is the result of a mix of maternal hormones and impulsive Debs. The Camden girls were regular visitors to our place for weekends and their exposure to Gracie was regular and sooooo sweet – so sweet in fact that one night as Debs was preparing to get shagged on her hands and knees by Tim while Ronnie and Viv took care of me, she stopped sucking Tim's cock for a second before asking,

"Tim, would you be the father of MY baby?"

"What?" he said astonished.

"I'm jealous," she said, "I probably the only one in the group that can have or would want to have a child, and you're the only person I'd want to have one with. I'm fertile, I've never been on any kind of birth control and I think I ovulated yesterday."

"Wow," he said with a smile, "you have thought about this haven't you." He stroked her face, "of course I will, what an honour." She sucked him hard one final time before lying flat on the bed so he could fuck her in the missionary position, feeling the pleasure of her insides on his skin for the first time and coming in hot fertile rivulets of healthy sperm. As he came inside her, she cried.

Thanks to her excellent timing, healthy lifestyle and never having taken a single contraceptive pill she fell pregnant that first time.

We swapped baby clothes and prams and car seats and things, and both houses always had a great supply of baby milk, often pumped out of breasts. All three Camden girls are like surrogate mothers to all three children, but Dorothy has so much love in her strange household. 

As far as my children are concerned, Tim and I met when I was visiting Manchester to see my mother who died later. Tim's mother had died too and we fell in love. We lived together for a while then got married on holiday in Hawaii – the pictures are still in the book.

I don't see that we'll ever need to tell them why we look so alike, and why for that matter people often mistake Gracie, Dorothy and Emma for sisters. OK, it wasn't morally right what we did or legal, but we have been happily 'married' now for almost fifteen years and the world hasn't ended, I haven't gone mad, Tim hasn't gone blind and the world is up by three beautiful girls who have brightened the world for their parents and step-parents.

Uncle Dan and Trish were shocked at first; Dan had left the police a few years back, but once he saw how happy we were, he 'forgot' that we were brother and sister in the same way that we had and got on with being a surrogate grandpa to Gracie and Emma, even Dorothy, and carries on to this day. 

He knew Ronnie – she'd been his sister's little sister and had been 'around' when Dad started going out with Mum. He was surprised to find out that she was my half-sister though, but had taken to her and the rest of the Camden Posse at the numerous parties him and Trish came to in the intervening years.

"Yeah, it's a bit strange," he admitted, "but then life is, isn't it..."

What would Mum have thought? I trust that her ashes are turning in her grave and disturbing Grandma Lawrence into the bargain.

Dad and Great Nanny Barnes? I think they would have been a bit shocked but not disappointed; I know that Nanny Barnes would have taken one look our perfect trio of Gracie, Dorothy and Emma, given them chocolate caramels from the pocket in her apron and said,

"There you go my baby girls," and smiled that smile that made the world a better place. Dad, he'd just be happy to see me and Tim so happy. Sometimes when Gracie, Emma or Dorothy smile, there is just a tiny little bit of him smiling back at me, and I think 'who cares what the world thinks'. Dad would have loved it.

The end.