**This story contains sexual references. Just in case you wanted to know**
Did you ever have a love story with a brother, a sister, or any other kind of relative of one of your significant other?
I had one.
It happened years ago after my then fiancé’ of 5 years left me. The news hit me like a lightning. We had been living together by 2 years when he told me he was in love with one of our friends.
The next day I left the place and went back home to my family. It took me a painful year and half to completely get over him. He was my first, true love.
The way he abruptly left me created in his family a wave of sympathy toward me. They could not believe he had left ME for HER....
I needed that sympathy like a desert needs water....
During our relationship we used to visit his parent’s house many times. Sometimes for lunch, sometime for dinner. With the time I had become close friend with his big sister. His little brother was 5 years younger than him. This was making him 4 years younger than me. Looking at him you wouldn’t have said so: he was towering over my fiancé (who was a 6’ 2” tall). At the time he had a steady girlfriend by almost 2 years who was driving him crazy with her talks of getting married.
I just couldn’t cut my ties with his family.
I loved them all: his mom considered me like another daughter.
His parents had a cute two stories house with a nice big garden where we used to have dinners in the summer.
Their Saturday dinners were the occasion to gather around the table, light up the citronella candles, spread the food and have good time. Little brother and I had taken the habit to remaining at the table longer after everybody else had gone to bed or left the house.
He was extremely funny to have around. It looked like his brother but as “intensified”: he had broader shoulder (he was a swimmer in the local team), deeper voice, longer and curlier hair. He was always joking that their parents got it wrong the first time with my ex and finally got right with him. He was also good hearted and very family oriented.
That particular night it was very hot. I brought a huge watermelon for the dinner. I knew for sure my ex and his new girlfriend wouldn’t have showed up: they were in vacation in Germany.
We had fun: witty conversation and wine are always two important ingredients for the success of any dinner. Other friends of the family stopped over for a coffee. Then my ex’s parents retired in their house and everybody slowly left the house.
Little brother and I remained at the table, as usual, with the goal to finish the half bottle of wine.
We were now seating on the beach chairs underneath the pergola, full of bougainvillea, at the opposite side of the table. It was darker there. The flower beds were in full bloom.
The subject of the conversation turned to his troubles with his girlfriend and his doubts about marrying so young. Then we talked about I was feeling.
That’s when our almost familiar relationship subtly switched in something else. Something potentially, extremely dangerous.
He gently put his big and elegant hand on mine and caressing it slowly he told me with a low, almost raspy voice. “I understand you still love him very much. I really don’t get that man. It seems we are not even related. If I were him I would never leave you for that rug”.
I felt touched by his sympathy and his openness. I laughed....unsure about the compliment and his intentions though...
Up to that moment I had never thought about him as a man...I mean, he was just little brother. We have laughed and shared ice cream and hop in each other cars for a ride in the city, we had been very close during all those years.
Like brother and sister.
I looked up at him. His eyes were amazingly deep. The color of amber. His skin was tanned and tight, his feet in the open sandals were suddenly sexy.......
Sexy?
I thought I must have had confused his words...the messages got twisted in my head.
But there couldn’t be further confusion when he leaned over me and grabbed the back of my neck, very gently but very firmly, and kissed me. ..there...in the garden of his parent’s house. In front of the window of the room where his brother and I had made love many times at night trying to be as much silent as we could......
.
He was kissing the lips his brother has kissed for so long.
And he was kissing me so good....
Almost like his brother.
I closed my eyes..... he was his brother.....the wine was working? No, it was the perfume of the jasmine, intoxicating, the deep sound of the frogs in the nearby pond, the smell of the sea breeze from the close beach.....it was his smell, clean, a little lemony, good eau de cologne....
It was that hand that was keeping me still, a hand planted with more confidence now against my back, that big hand that was caressing almost like his brother’ hand...
And the kiss was still going on while I was getting in all this information, all these sensation...he was a great kisser.
I had to admit it.
Just when I thought we would have never stopped kissing a sound from the inside of the house froze both of us.
“What are we doing” I asked. I giggled softly.
“We are going to make love” he said, plain like this.
Like I couldn’t have a different opinion.
Like it was so natural that we would have enraged the Gods of the night if I would have said no.
So we got up and brought inside our glasses and the bottles.
So he closed gently and cautiously the door behind us and we decided I was going to take my car as I was normally leaving and he would have taken his as he was going to meet his friends on the beach.
And I thought....this can be happening...we will stop before everything will happen...absolutely...no way we are going to act it out.....
But I wasn’t changing direction..... I wasn’t going toward my home...
I was following his car, instead, like a boat follows the lighthouse in the open sea.. .
He drove for 15 minutes. He left the town and pointed to the hills....I had never been in that side...immediately we were in open country, along a rocky road He stopped the car underneath some huge trees and tall bushes....and remained inside.
He was waiting for me.
I stopped the car as well and got out. I was walking in the dark with small steps for not falling and all I could see were the while pebble of the road ....
There was no more doubt about what we were going to do....
I got inside his car.
Since he was tall it had bought a spacious one.
We rolled up the windows and smoked a cigarette in the dark.
Like we needed to have some pause....a moment of quiet after those unpredictable moments.
Then he turned to me and he told me to lower the seat. Completely.
I did it.
He told me to move in the middle of the seat.
I did.
He was talking with a low and calm voice.
The silence between his words was filled only by the sound of the thousand crickets singing helplessly in the hot dark.
I was wearing a long summer dress.
It was easy to take it off.
I wasn’t wearing any bra either.
He made me lay down slowly, holding my head to help me.....
Then he slowly took off his shirt...his chest was absolutely clean of any hair, the shoulder trained by hours of swimming were buffed but not too much......his muscles were long and elegant ...like I like them...the skin was fresh, compact, dark.
He took off his pants. Then his underwear.
Then he remained still for a moment against the windshield...
I was admiring him, he was admiring me.....
He leaned over me.
And we started to kiss again but with no more restrain now.....avid and long kisses...
At one moment we stopped at the same time....I guess the same thought hit us ...he was the man who had almost became my brother-in-law......
He told me “Do you feel weird? Do you want to stop? Because I don’t, I cant”.
We didn’t stop.
In my mind visions of my ex boyfriend appeared like flash back...it seemed like a dream...they had the same skin, the same mouth, the same hands....the same breath....it was so insane..... it was so right.
I couldn’t believe we were making love....I couldn’t believe it could be so good....
For a second, in a strange way, I felt like I was betraying my ex.......but he kissed me so violently I forgot what I was thin king...
His sex was extremely good, long and satisfying....
When we finally stopped we had to get out of the car to cool our bodies....we were laughing while standing in the middle of the road... arms and legs spread out to cool our sweating...
He confessed me he never had such a great sex before, not even with who he was supposed to get married..
We asked to each other “And now?”
Would there be awkward moments at his parent’s dinners...would we feel like we had committed a sort of incest? Would the others notice our different behavior?
But everything turned to be a lot more easy than we dreaded.
.
We met again a few other times: in the apartment of one of his friend, in his car again, in one of my friend’s home......
But we knew it was a story that couldn’t have a future.
And we stopped seeing each other.
With the time my visits to his parents’ house decreased....the family understood.
Now, after all these years, a marriage and a divorce, I am still close friend with his sister. She still doesn’t know anything about my story with little brother.
His father died soon after we had our story.
His mom died last year. She was suffering of Alzheimer. Last time she saw me she didn’t recognize me at all.
Little brother got eventually married but not with that girl.
Now he is divorced and has a little girl.
He lives in another city and he is a lawyer.
We bumped in each other two summers ago.
We hugged and talked a little bit of our lives.
But he had to rush to a business meting.
He hugged me again and took my hands with his big hands.
A big smile on his face
Bye-bye, little brother.
