The Married Sister


Posted:bbwclub
The Married Sister
It was a lovely morning. But, then, it was always a lovely
morning in San Diego. A Mr. Branson, retired, henpecked, was out
tending his garden bright and early. His wife was pleased with his
sudden interest in gardening. Actually, old Branson didn't care a
hang about flowers or lawns, they were all weeds to him. What he
did care about and why he was out in the garden bright and early
every morning was for the pleasure and excitement of seeing their
neighbor, young Gail Hanover, walk out of her house and down to
the mailbox and then back up the path again.
On what Branson called "good days" she would open the mail
then walk slowly back up the path to the house. The slower, the
better, for Branson's interests. This particular morning, he
positioned himself in a corner of the yard, crouching over a bed
of marigolds and pretending to dig while his eyes looked through
his bushy eyebrows and he waited.
And Gail was well worth the waiting. Yesterday, she had come
down to the mailbox dressed in a lounging gown and old Branson had
gritted his teeth against his anger at being disappointed then
almost fell in a bed of tulips as, while she was opening the mail,
her gown fell open and he saw one leg up to the hip bone. It was
an indelible image he would savor late at night while lying next
to his snoring wife. She was wearing high heels under the gown and
her leg showed itself off beautifully with slim tapered ankles
curving out into well-rounded calves. Then--and every time Branson
thought of it, his mouth went dry--a thigh. Not just any thigh,
but full, voluptuous thighs that seemed to swoop out in pure white
firmness. And all she was wearing was a rose-red bikini panty!
Branson had to close his eyes when he thought of how the
panties stretched tight across her hips, revealing the soft bulge
of one pelvic bone and the way the material caught tight and was
tense at the V of her crotch.
It was only for a split second, but old Branson had seen it
and found himself shaking. "By God, if I were only twenty years
younger!" he had muttered.
The postman had delivered the mail, turned the flag up and
Branson was in position. His only regret was the fact that he
couldn't get closer.
Gail Hanover came out of the house. She had risen early,
determined to clean. It was such a bright and sunny day, she saw
no reason for wearing a lot of clothes. A pair of shorts and one
of Rod's old white shirts pulled and knotted around her slim waist
seemed enough. She came from the house barefoot and old Branson
crouched like some old satyr and peered through his white picket
fence.
Gail came down the path tossing her hair. It was beautiful
jet-black hair and contrasted sharply with her pale blue eyes. The
tights were old and rose high on her hips, almost revealing her
hip bones. A pair of hip huggers she had cut off, they slung low,
revealing her navel which Branson saw with rippling flesh. The V
of the huggers fit tight over her crotch. Gail enjoyed the slight
pressure and excitement they afforded her and walked in a hip
undulating fashion to heighten the sensation.
Old Branson fell to one knee as he craned forward, his now
sweating face no more than three inches from the fence as he saw
her bending to open the mailbox. My God! he thought, that young
chippie isn't wearing a bra!
It was true. Her ample breasts seemed to shift under her
husband's shirt and the nipples made little reverse indentations
on the cotton, sticking out in a provocative way.
Branson quickly swiped at his upper lip, removing
perspiration. Gail was a lovely thing to look at: slim, big
breasted, long legs, thick hair and a lovely face with a small
nose, almost snub-nosed, and a large, sensuous mouth. She looked
just like the girls he saw in Playboy magazine whenever he went
down to the drugstore to get prescriptions filled. She was better
than anything he had ever seen in a magazine. She was real! And
she was across the street, tearing open a letter and practically
naked.
As he watched, she read a letter hastily, a smile coming over
her face. Then, in a spontaneous movement, she jumped up and down
with glee, her breasts shaking and quivering.
To his disappointment, she turned to run to her house. Then,
his luck holding, she dropped a letter and bent over, her back to
him, and picked it up. For one moment of glorious agony, Branson
saw her hips and buttocks fan out and her shorts ride high up and
be caught in the deep crevice between her legs. She straightened
and walked on to the house, the two smooth, undulating cheeks of
her buttocks in plain sight bouncing up and down.
If it had been any other day and any other letter, Gail might
have heard a moan from the yard across the way and looked to see
what was happening. But, not today. She held in her hand THE
letter. Everybody gets at least one letter in their life which
they can deem important. They can look back to that time and say,
"My life changed that day."
So it was for Gail. She ran into the house excited, not
knowing what she was going to do or if there was anything she
should do.
She stood in their living room and laughed softly. She read
the letter again, taking in every word. It was so very brief.
DARLING, LEAVING THIS HELLHOLE IN ONE WEEK AND FLYING BACK
HOME TO YOU. LOVE, ROD.
Airmailed and postmarked two days ago. A quick calculation
told her he might be home by next weekend. Gail felt good, better
than she had felt in weeks. If old Branson hadn't been so
interested in her body and his own frustrated thoughts, he would
have noticed that Gail wasn't a happy girl; that she was, in fact,
a deeply troubled human being. If horny old Branson had looked
closely, he would have seen the telltale signs of much drinking
the night before.
Rod had been in Vietnam a year and she had lived alone,
having few friends and occasionally working for the Kelly Girls,
taking office jobs when they seemed suitable and the mood hit her.
Most of her friends were the wives of servicemen, like herself,
waiting for their men to come home.
Then Lee, her younger brother came to visit her and stay.
Although a warm day, Gail shivered, thinking about him and his
visit. At home, when they were growing up, Lee, one year younger,
had always been a wild one, getting into all sorts of trouble. At
first, it had been dismissed as "coltish behavior", and "sowing
his wild oats." Later, it had gotten more serious: drinking
escapades and stories of wild parties. Lee ran with a crowd that
was considered disreputable and Gail had nothing to do with them.
One night Lee had come home drunk and surprised Gail as she lay in
bed reading a book. He had attacked her. The word "attack" was
never really mentioned and the whole thing was smoothed over as a
joke. Lee being so drunk he "didn't know where he was." At least
that is what Gail's mother had said. Her mother had a special
attachment to Lee that Gail used to wonder about. Near forty, her
mother was still a fine looking woman.
When Rod came along, the whole world changed and it wasn't
long before they were married and moved to San Diego. And then
Gail's mother wrote to say that Lee was coming out to see her
right after school let out. Lee was attending an eastern college.
In his first year, he had been almost kicked out. Several students
had been arrested in an apartment off campus. Seems a sex party
had been going on and one girl claimed that she had been raped.
And Lee had come to visit Gail.
Despite his sardonic and unpredictable ways, Gail loved her
brother. His aggressiveness and his sharp tongue didn't bother
her; she thought, that with time, he would change. When he first
came, she had been struck by how different they were. She was to
learn, to her horror and shame, how very much alike they were in
at least one way.
He had showed up one morning in front of her house, a
sleeping bag on his back, his hair too long and unkempt, his lips
twisted in that old grin. "Hiya. Man, you're something else."
After she had fed him and he talked of their parents, she sat
down across the table from him and looked at him carefully. He had
grown, he was no longer just her little brother, he was a man. And
that same mischievous look was on his face. Only, now, there was
something more there. The impish quality had become hard, there
was a glitter and gleam to his eye that disturbed her. What was
it? It seemed to her they were shrewd eyes old beyond belief.
There was a cynical edge to his voice, a strange dry quality that
told you there was little that he hadn't done.
Standing with Rod's scrawled hasty letter in her hand, Gail
shivered again. She slumped into a chair and stared off. What was
she going to do? How could she tell Rod? What would happen, how
would she feel when Rod was finally in front of her took her in
his arms? How would she respond? Would it be the same as before?
Or, would she, in some unpredictable way, give herself away?
How would she act in the throes of passion?
Her depression came back and she felt the need of a drink.
Just one, she told herself, then put her hand to her head and
closed her eyes. She had to face this thing, she had to think it
out. More than anything, she had to resolve it in her own mind.
She had been always told and felt it was true that she was a
person of character. Setting her jaw, she carefully folded Rod's
letter and put it away in the desk with all of his letters that
she had kept. She could not resist sitting and rereading some of
them, tears brimming in her eyes. She loved Rod and he was the
only man ever to have her ... until Lee, her brother, came to
visit.
She couldn't stand it any longer. She slammed the desk drawer
shut then swiveled to the kitchen where she poured a drink of
scotch into a glass and sat down at the kitchen table. I don't
care if it's morning and this is a stupid thing to do. I want to
think, she told herself.
She swallowed the scotch and made a face, feeling it burn
down and hit her empty stomach. Hastily, she made some Instant
coffee and poured the rest of the scotch in the cup and sat down
to sip and think.
One of the wonders of the human mind is its adaptability.
Gail had not once allowed herself to think of what happened with
Lee since he had gone. While it was happening and while he was
staying with her, she could think of nothing else. When he left,
something in her brain shut off. An instinct told her she needed
time to think, to recover. She became busy with hundreds of
chores. She visited girl friends and baby sat. She went alone to
movies and when she had seen them all, when there was nothing to
do or no one to see, when it was night and she was alone with only
the TV playing endlessly, she drank. She drank heavily and many
mornings awoke to find herself still on the couch, clothed, with
the television hissing a pale blue screen in the corner. Her head
would ache and her stomach was sour and she took long showers and
plenty of aspirin.
And she dreaded becoming a secret drinker, a furtive
alcoholic.
She would sit for hours, smoking, drinking, longing for Rod
and wanting so much to talk with him. Then, thinking of what
happened, she dreaded the idea of Rod coming back to her; she was
not the same person he had left.
She sipped steadily on her coffee and inhaled the fumes of
the scotch and willed herself to think of what had happened and
try to understand it and the way that she felt.
Lee, restless the first night, insisted they go out. He had
money and wanted to see the town. They had gone out for drinks and
dinner and Lee had grown funnier and more charming as the night
went on. Driving in the car, Gail had said, "Where to now?"
"Nirvana, Babe."
"Huh? "
"A little action."
"Gee, I don't know. I don't go out much now that Rod's away.
I've been out of it. How about a movie?"
Lee slumped down in his seat and made a face. "How about a
taffy pull or a night class in wax casting? Come on, Babe, you can
do better than that."
Gail smiled at her brother who looked so bored. "Okay, what
do you want to do?"
"A nightclub. One of those topless-bottomless joints. A real
sleazy dive with lots of broads around and guys trying to make
time."
Gail raised her eyebrows. "Somehow I don't think I'm the
person to ask about that. Besides, you're only nineteen. You
couldn't get in."
Lee pointed a finger at her and made a popping sound with his
mouth. "I gotta phoney I.D."
"Isn't that against the law?
"Sure, if you're dumb enough to get caught. Look, who's going
to say my I.D. is phoney? I left my real one back at your place.
Where's a strip joint?"
"I don't know if I should go to such a place?"
"Ever seen one?"
"No."
"Then don't knock it if you don't know about it. Aren't you
at all curious?"
Gail smiled despite herself. It was almost as if he could
read her thoughts. In fact, she was very curious in what really
went on in what she and Rod called "The topless pits." Since Rod
had been in Vietnam, she had abstained from sex, feeling a great
yearning and loneliness yet feeling that it was all worth it. When
her man came home, he would come to her bed and it all would be
just beautiful. Now, Lee had tickled her curiosity and she felt
this was a perfect time to satisfy it: she couldn't go with girl
friends because it would look funny, like they were trying to "get
picked up." She certainly couldn't go with another man and square
it with her conscience. But she could go with Lee. He was not just
another man, he was her brother. She could, when in a teasing
mood, tell Rod she had been in a topless bar and feel no guilt,
because Lee had been along.
The delicious sense of doing something wrong, a child-like
fit of giggles came over her. "I know where a lot of those places
are."
"Take me there, you improper bitch!" Lee said, clowning and
waving an arm.
They were in a gay mood full of nonsense when they entered a
club, THE PUSSYCAT PARLOR. Gail found herself, once inside, in
pitch blackness. She blinked and held her hand out. Lee,
thoroughly accustomed to such dark, led her along through the
tables. There was a bright stage light at the far end of the dark
bar and Gail knew that would be where the "action" was. She didn't
look at it; half out of excitement and half out of her footing as
they weaved toward the light.
They were seated at a ringside table by a girl in a lowcut
blouse showing plenty of cleavage. When Gail sat down she saw that
the girl was wearing black tights and panties that were cut so as
to ride high up on her hip. The girl smiled invitingly at Lee and
took their order. Music was blaring from a jukebox and Gail caught
a movement out of the corner of her eye. A girl, young,
attractive, with long hair and an Indian headband across her
forehead, mounted the stage. She was dressed in a simple miniskirt
and she smiled down at them, her body already beginning to sway
and move to the rock beat.
Very simply, with a smile that was relaxed and a little lewd,
she pulled the dress up over her head and Gail gasped. The girl
was naked, save for her sandals and headband!
Gail knew she had a good body, but this girl was really good.
She was tall, willowy, with a long waist and full firm hips. Her
long tapering thighs came down to dimpled knees and long calves
ending in incredibly thin ankles. Her breasts were high and huge
and jutting out, away from each other and ended in taut nipples
like two dark bullets. Her stomach was flat and her buttocks, seen
in the mirrors behind her were two full smooth cheeks with a deep
crevice dividing them.
Gail's astonished eyes took her all in and finally centered,
hopelessly fascinated, by the V of soft curling pubic hair that
formed where her deep thighs met her torso. Her mound of Venus
jutted out ever so enticingly, only to serve notice as to the
hidden delights of the warm inviting vagina hidden up between her
thighs.
Hands on her hips, the girl gyrated in time to the building
music, looking down at Lee and Gail and slowly licking her lips as
her hips rotated. As the music grew wilder, the girl began shaking
her shoulders, making her breasts quiver in a lascivious way and
her hands slid down to cup around her groin, to feel the air as if
she were caressing an invisible penis and to jut her hips out in a
lewd invitation. Gail's mouth fell open as she looked up at the
girl dancing and saw the swelling lips of her vagina beginning to
ever-so-slightly part as she danced on.
My God, Gail thought, she's getting herself really aroused!
She had never seen a woman do this before in private, let
alone in public. The music became more frantic, louder, and the
girl became more abandoned in her dancing, doing deep bends and
leaning over and wiggling her buttocks invitingly, her breasts
moving in a tantalizing way. It dawned on Gail that the girl was
actually dancing a sex act--the woman's half of the sex act--right
in front of everyone. The music grew wilder. and the girl's hair
lashed around as she threw her head back and spread her legs, a
look of ecstasy on her face as her hips undulated and she spread
her legs wider and Gail could clearly see the narrow glistening
slit of her naked cunt.
Everyone could see. Gail's head was going around as she
watched, not even conscious that their drinks had been served and
that she was gulping at it. Her heart was pounding and every nerve
in her body, so long quiet, was now hammering at her being. The
natural thought came into her mind: what must it be like to do
that?
And the answer, with a force and fury that amazed her, told
her it would be exciting. The girl in front of them, totally
naked, her eyes half closed, her mouth open and her lips wet, her
body writhing, moving sensuously to the wild music, was obviously
enjoying every minute of it.
The music stopped and the girl forced herself to stop too.
She pulled her dress on, breathing hard, looking down at Lee with
a strange searching look on her face. Gail looked at him and saw
that lopsided little enigmatic grin on his face. Still looking at
him, the girl slipped off behind a partition.
"Wow, she was all right. You like that? You sure know how to
pick the places, Babe," Lee said, flicking his fingers to order
another round of drinks.
Gail put one hand to her face, shielding it from the rest of
the bar. "I've never seen anything like that before in my whole
life. I never dreamed! She didn't have anything on!"
"That's right. Groovy. Nothing like getting down to the old
nitty-gritty."
"Is that legal? I mean, supposing the police raid this
place?"
Lee's expression of disgust came again. "Sister, I gotta say
this. You are square. Don't you know what's been happening? Where
have you been since you left home? The law can't do a thing. Their
hands are tied. It had something to do with the Supreme Court.
They can't touch an operation like this. It's art, baby!"
They were served their drinks and Gail gulped again. She was
still astounded and excited. She felt the urge to squirm against
the hot throbbing and moistness she felt down between her legs.
The sheer brazen audacity of it all numbed her except for a
strangely rising sexual response that she couldn't control.
And her younger brother, sitting across from her with that
inscrutable sardonic smile, watching her with those cold attentive
eyes. Lee, so wild and unpredictable, so young and so handsome.
Lee, toying with his drink and grinning. "Let's go home."
Gail caught her breath and looked around. "We just got here."
"I wanna go. I wanna talk to you."
The tone of his voice had sent a warning bell ringing in her
mind. But the alcohol, the dancing girl, her own thwarted desire
over-rode the sound. He was after all, her brother. "Okay."
In the car again, they drove saying little, Gail driving with
Lee staring moodily out the passenger side window. Back in the
apartment, Lee sprawled on the couch and looked up at his sister,
that ironic smile coming back. "What do you like?"
Gail was genuinely puzzled. "What do I like?"
"Yeah, what turns you on in bed? What kind of sex do you
like?"
Gail was visibly jarred by the question and she had skipped a
beat before laughing and saying, with a wave of the hand, "Oh,
lots of things. Want a drink?"
Lee got up. "No, I got something better." He went to the
closet and got out his sleeping bag. Not looking at her, he asked,
"Ever make it with more than one guy? Ever try a threesome?"
Gail felt her body tingle. "What?"
Lee appeared a bit weary. "ever ball two guys at the same
time?"
Gail again visibly reacted as the image of Rod, herself, and
a faceless man whipped into her mind. It was so exciting and
depraved, she couldn't allow herself to think about it. "I ... I
don't think that's any of your business," she said, turning to the
bar Rod had built before leaving and pouring herself a drink.
"Okay," Lee said, ambling back to the couch with some
cigarette papers in his hand and a little pouch dangling from one
finger.
"What's that?" Gail asked, her voice full of suspicion.
"Grass," Lee said casually.
Gail set her drink down firmly on the bar. "No," she said in
a firm tight voice. All of a sudden, she was feeling a dislike for
her brother.
Lee grinned at her as he measured out the green dried weeds.
"Come on. Mean to say you've never tried it?"
"No." Gail stood in front of him. "Lee, I won't have that
kind of stuff in my house."
"Huh?"
"I mean it and I'm ashamed of you, doing a thing like that.
Shame on you."
Lee looked at her for a minute before bursting out in
incredulous laughter. "You really mean it. You're not putting me
on? You really mean it, this is no put-on?"
"Yes."
"Well that sure puts a tail on the dog. You've never tried
this?"
"No, and I don't want to."
"Rod has."
Again, his calmness, his laughing face, and his ability to
change pace threw her. "How do you know?"
Again, Lee laughed. "Hell, he's in Vietnam."
Gail's face clouded. It was true, there had been articles in
the papers about pot smoking among the troops. "You're only
guessing," she said defiantly.
He shook his head. "I know Rod."
"That's no reason for me to try it," she said, walking back
to her drink.
"There's every reason in the world for you to try it."
Again, Gail was puzzled by her brother. "What do you mean by
that?"
Now, looking back, Gail could see that was the wrong question
to ask. Had she insisted he get rid of the stuff, the ensuing
argument might never have happened and the whole evening might
have been different.
Lee had answered her question, had talked long about "grass"
and had played on her doubts and fears, gradually boxing her in
until Gail, feeling she was insane, feeling that she was doing
something sinful and depraved, agreed to take "just one puff". She
did it, holding her breath as long as she could, then exhaled. "I
don't feel a thing."
Lee had smiled secretly. "Wait," was all he would say.
Having taken one puff and felt nothing, it didn't seem so
terribly dangerous to take another. And a third. Fourth. She took
so many puffs, she lost track of how many drags she had. In fact,
she seemed to have lost track of time itself. There was so much
she suddenly couldn't account for. They were sitting on the floor
with drinks in front of them and music was playing on the radio
and had been playing for a long time. She was smoking a cigarette
and watching, with a glazed absorption, the thick gray smoke
curling up in the air. It seemed that she had been watching the
smoke all night.
"I have."
Lee's quiet voice made her jump. She tried to focus on him.
"What?" she asked, her voice thick and slurring.
"I've balled two chicks at the same time."
"What?" Gail said stupidly, feeling a wave of lewd curiosity
come over her.
"Yeah," Lee went on, smiling. "Two girls. Met them in a
commune I visited and they liked that sort of thing."
"Really? That's terrible," Gail said with a little giggle.
"What are you laughing for if it's terrible?"
"I don't know. I feel so ... funny."
"Yeah." Leaning over, he began stroking the back of her arm.
Despite herself, she let him do it. It felt so good, sending a
tingling sensation all through her body.
"What did you do?" She couldn't help asking the question as
she bit her lip in anticipation.
Lee kept on stroking her arm, running his fingers up to her
shoulder. "I balled them. We fucked."
The word "Fucked," hung in the air and Gail felt an
involuntary tingle down between her legs as she heard the word.
Her legs were crossed and she wondered hazily if he could see up
her dress to her panties.
Looking down at her drink, she asked, "And ... what did ...
they, the girls, do?"
"They took turns fucking me and then went down on each other
while I watched." His other hand began stroking one of her knees,
pushing her skirt back.


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