“You want to know why? You really want to know? ‘Cause you’re a soddin’ piece o’ shite. A loser of the highes’ order.” She stepped closer. I could smell the gin on her. “Why would I ever fuck you if I can have a man like Declan?"
She turned and picked up her bag, that horribly ugly, orange and shit-brown thing I got her at that boutique years ago because she “had to have it.” She grabbed her keys.
“You shouldn’t drive in your state.” I knew as soon as I said it there would be a problem.
“And you shouldn’t tell me what the fuck to do. Ever!”
The door slammed, and I fell against it and held my face. I wept like an old maid at a funeral. So much for the paradise I had always dreamed about.
How did I get here?
Thirty minutes later, I was sat at Jenna’s kitchen table. A warm cup of tea was gripped tightly in my hand. It was after eleven.
“How, how did I get here? How did I let it get this bad?” I put my head down and squeezed my eyes shut as if that would make it all disappear.
Jenna sat down next to me and put a housecoat-covered arm around my shoulder. She put her chin on the top of my head and rubbed my forearm in a sweet attempt to soothe. It was almost working.
“My sister has always been difficult. After Mum died, she drove Dad mad with her parties and her boys and her drinking. I was stunned when she brought you home from work. Right stunned.”
I looked up at her, and she was teary-eyed. The water held in her eye for a few seconds.
“I am so sorry, Tom. I thought she would change when she met you. Twelve years her elder. A steady job, an actual house and a future. You were a knight in shining armour."
“Ha, that’s quite a picture. A balding forty-year-old with a paunch and thick glasses.”
She smiled softly. “You are more than that, and you know it. I just feel so guilty.” She turned away, and her tears fell, but she held onto my arm. I put my hand on hers. I felt her shiver.
“That is very kind of you, Jenna. But despite these thick old lenses, I saw quite clearly what I was getting into. Like you, I thought she would change. Now I know better. She wanted a place to crash and a bank account to plunder. I’m not a knight; I’m a foolish sod.”
"Well, I see more.” She was so sweet. It was nearly impossible to figure how, other than the curly red hair and the green eyes, that she and Brenda came from the same mother. Granted she was nearly eight years older and was gone out the house when her mum passed. Still.
She straightened with resolve and a fire in her eyes. “Okay, the way I see it, you need to finally pull the plug. This must end, and it has to end now.” I had a flutter in my heart as I felt support from someone for the first time in the three years Brenda and I had been married. “You need to feel safe. You can stay here.”
I scoffed, then laughed. “I am not a battered wife. I don’t need a safe haven. But cheers for that.”
She looked a little fierce as she held my chin for a moment. “Thomas Preston. You are a decent and hard-working soul who has been taken advantage of too many times. You deserve to be happy and safe. And that is not in the house that my horror of a sister will eventually come stumbling back into. Maybe not even alone.”
“Oh, she would never…” I trailed off as she lifted a brow. I nodded, remembering the two times she had brought home another man and had literally fucked him in our parlour whilst I lay down the hall in our bed. She had sobbed 'Please forgive me' for two hours after she had sobered. And I, the fool, the knight in shining armour, had taken her back. Both times.
Jenna dropped my chin and patted my arm. “Come on, then. Let’s get you sorted in the spare room. I think I may have something for you to wear in Dad’s old things, if that’s to your liking.”
We headed upstairs to the bedrooms of the house she had grown up in. The house in which she had nursed her broken-hearted father for nearly a decade after her mum had passed. Now it was just her and memories.
She sent me to the loo to wash and brush my teeth. I was half enjoying the maternal aspect of her behaviour. She was solid, dependable, and kind. Everything Brenda was not. And she was a nice-looking woman. A softer, older version of the wrong sister that I had comically fallen for five years ago.
I was soon lying in a nice pair of pyjamas in a comfortable twin bed, staring at the tan ceiling streaked with yellow lights from the streetlamp outside.
I whispered, “How did you get here, Tom?” I got no answer.
By divine intervention, exhaustion took me, so I didn’t have to keep looking.
The pounding and the shouting woke me. I grabbed my glasses and checked my mobile. It showed three-thirty-seven in the morning and six missed calls and texts from Brenda. I knew instantly that it was her voice raising the ruckus.
I stumbled into the hall to find a terrible scene. Brenda leaned against the wall, obviously still loaded on heaven knows what. Her dress was torn at the neckline, and part of her bra was showing, barely holding in the fake breasts I bought her for Christmas last year. She was shaking a broken-nailed finger at a bleary-eyed yet defiant Jenna.
“You can’t tell me whasstodo. You ain’t my mum and you ain’t… whatevah the fuck.”
“I can, I did, and I will. Get out. I called you an Uber and they have nearly arrived.”
Brenda smiled a sickly sneer and leaned toward her sister. I was ready to intervene, but a hand palm-up from Jenna stopped me. “Tom. She needs your house keys. She says she lost hers."
I hesitated, trying to make sense of the all-too-common state of my twenty-nine-year-old wife. Why was I continually surprised how much worse she was getting?
I quickly went up to the room and retrieved my keys. I stopped on the bottom stair and handed them to Jenna, not wanting contact with Brenda. She turned a make-up-streaked face that seemed to have dried spittle and semen caked on it.
“Fuckin’ coward. How did I evuh--”
Jenna’s phone pinged in her pocket. “The Uber. Go. Now.”
Brenda angrily snatched the keys out of her sister’s hand and gave me one last glance. Then her eyes partially widened as much as the alcohol, sex, and probably weed would allow. “Oh fuck me raw. You’re in jammies. The Wallriss iz shaggin’ my bitchuvasister.” She let out a horribly loud, hoarse laugh. “Well tha’ beatsall!”
Before she could continue, Jenna literally shoved her out the door and slammed it behind her. She fell onto it, breathing heavily.
I could hear Brenda cursing as she faded. “Fuck! I fell ‘n muhknee and broke uh heel. I’ll have you on greivoush – greivoselybody. Oh fuck, I’m gonna be…” The retching that followed was awful, and I found myself actually enjoying it some. There was the inevitable arguing with the driver, a slammed car door, and off she went.
We both stood in silence, Jenna still facing the door. Her voice was soft but hadn’t lost its strength. “Let’s try to go back to sleep. I’ll call out in the morning. We have a lot to discuss.” She turned, a weary smile on her soft face. “Goodnight, Tom.”
“Goodnight, Jenna. And thank you again.”
She paused with a hand on my shoulder, and we headed up. Her hips swayed with the climb, and I admonished myself for being aroused.
Back in bed, I had my eyes closed, but my mind was in a state. I tossed, the bed squeaking. Brenda’s accusation ran through my mind, her accusation that I was shagging her sister. I hadn’t ever thought of it, well, not seriously. I had, in an odd moment here and there, dallied with the notion and wondered what she looked like naked. I had seen her in a bikini and once in her underwear, but never naked. Was she clean-shaven like Brenda or sporting a small patch of ginger? My silly dick stirred.
I am a man, and my brain goes to places it shouldn’t, not if I am a decent man, that is. I guess I am not a decent man. My mind had stripped her bikini: slowly removing the top, her breasts staring at my mind’s eye. Then I watched her take off her bikini bottoms. She was shaven with a small landing strip, as I hoped.
“Tom, you pervert,” I whispered in the dark. I shook my head at the wild images, and they disappeared. My dick was fully hard with the erotic imagery, and I was tempted to resolve it. I even took my dick in my hand and began to slowly pump, but even the slow movement made the bed squeak. No, that would be just too wrong; Jenna would know, and I didn’t want her to know.
I got up; the bed squeaked even more. Who has squeaky beds these days? My sister-in-law, that’s who. I needed a drink; my mouth was dry. I softly opened the bedroom door and went down to the kitchen. I turned the light on; I wasn’t familiar enough with the layout to know what was where in the dark. I grabbed a clean glass from the drying rack and turned the tap on.
I let the water flow for a moment and then filled the glass. I turned around and leant on the countertop and took a draught. That helped. I closed my eyes and let the cool water sit in my mouth for a moment and then swallowed. I heard something and opened my eyes. Jenna was standing in the doorway.
“Sorry,” I said, “I tried to be quiet. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
She smiled and walked over to me, her nightie barely hiding her body. My illicit dreams of a few minutes ago resurfaced. She was fuller of figure than her younger sister, and I was happy for it.
“You didn’t disturb me. I had forgotten how much that silly bed squeaks.”
I had been right; she would have known if I had carried on. I was glad that I had stopped, but stopping had meant that the desire remained. Oh no, I was still hard. I turned a bit to hide my stiffness.
“Sorry.”
“Oh, stop saying sorry; you know, you can be an eejit at times.”
I almost said ‘sorry’ again but stopped.
She stepped closer and took the glass from me and put it on the worktop. I gulped.
“Tom, I know this is wrong, but I can’t stop thinking of you in, well…" She looked down, shy in the sexiest way. “In a heated fashion. I think the emotions of the night…”
“I, erm, I feel…warm as well.”
She looked up and was closer still. “My bed doesn’t squeak.”
I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to hold her breasts, I wanted to plunder her valley, but I was too scared to make a move.
Jenna, thankfully, took hold of the matter and my hand. “Come on,” she said, pulling me after her. Like a docile puppy, I followed. I followed her up the stairs; I followed her into her room.
“Jenna, it’s been a while. I don’t know if I can…”
“What, make love to me? Surely you remember how.”
I stood gormless as she pulled her nightie over her head. I was wrong; she didn’t have a landing strip. No, she was bare, a beautiful naked crease inviting me in, hints of her inner treasures just visible in the crease.
I pulled the pyjamas off and stood, hard dick and panting breath, before my sister-in-law. She offered a hand. I closed the gap and pulled her to me. I kissed her; I kissed her with a passion I didn’t know that I had. It was unlike anything I had with her sister, or with anyone ever. My dick pressed hard against her belly, my balls dangling between my thighs.
Jenna kissed back, her tongue pressed between my lips and danced a paso doble in my mouth. Her hand wrapped around my dick and pushed it back and forth. There was no going back, not now; the Rubicon had been crossed. I pushed her backwards, and as her legs hit the side of the bed, she fell backwards.
“Oh, Tom.” She bit her lip in one last moment of reluctance. Then her legs parted.
I fell to my knees and buried my head between her thighs. Her aroma was intoxicating, part stale body odour, part wee, and all woman. I opened my mouth, made contact, and closed my mouth around the whole of her vulva, ending with a tight suck on her nubbin.
“Oh, my saints,” she gasped, her crotch pressing against me. Then she giggled.
I looked up a bit worried. “Am I, am I doing it wrong?”
She looked down a bit embarrassed. “Your mustache tickling surprised me. Please, carry on!”
I went back aware of her sensitivity. Like riding a bike, technique returned and I tugged at her nubbin with my teeth. I lifted my hand and slid it under my chin. Her fanny was wet, and as my fingers circled her entrance, it felt like a whirlpool drawing me in. I pushed with two fingers, passing her entrance, through her opening and into the hot, wet depths of her sex.
“Oh, gawd,” she gasped as I opened and closed my fingers inside her, cutting imaginary paper with my imaginary scissors. I withdrew, my fingers together, my fingernails dragging across her bumps and ripples. I found her spot, the little scar, so sensitive in some women and so sensitive in Jenna; her back arched, and she let out a shriek.
I ran my tongue down her valley, sucking her flavour, adding to her wetness. My fingers easily sliding in and out of it, her fanny walls tried clutching at my digits but were unable to get any purchase.
“Fuck me, Tom,” she said between gasps, “for God’s sake, fuck me, fuck me now.” She was nearly breathless and desperate.
I was planning on just that. My neglected erection was making a puddle on the rug as it dripped small drops of precum.
I stood and helped her to lie more in the centre of the bed and climbed up. She was a full-bodied, curved vision. Yes, Brenda had a dynamite and dangerous body. And she used to shag me often. Yet, if I cannot remember the last time, that is a very bad thing. My head lined up, my hard and ready dick slipped into her opening, and I stopped. It was overwhelmingly hot, and I had to pause to absorb all the internal feelings and the physical sensations.
“Wha…what’s wrong? Do you need to stop?” She was gasping but still genuinely concerned for my well-being.
I took a deep breath. “Hell no!” I was in with a vengeance, my pelvis slamming hers.
She lost her breath and arched. I wasn’t halfway out on my third thrust when she cried out in orgasmic bliss. I had no idea how long it had been for her, but this felt like it was just as long overdue.
I pushed through the spasm, wanting to prove to myself that I was still man enough to please a woman. What a ridiculous thing to feel. Brenda flashed in my head, a sneer and a head shake of disgust. I literally swept my hand across my vision to clear her from my mind. I bent as I shagged Jenna and took her large left nipple in my mouth. She shakily moaned, the rhythm of our fuck making her voice pulse.
“Tom! I am almost there again! Don’t stop, Love!”
Love? It had been ages since anyone had said that word to me. And even though it was a product of a passionate coupling, it made my heart soar!
“JE-nahhh!”
My round belly slapped against hers as I went to another level. I was nearly blind with a lustful, primal need.
And then my mind returned, my brain took control of my body, and the lust dissipated. This was not a moment for simple lust and self-gratification. Jenna was more deserving than that. I slowed my thrusting, I gently suckled her nipple, and my hand caressed her hair.
Jenna responded; her gasps became softer, and there was more desire in her movements. Her hands stroked across my back, ginger nails tracing along my shoulder blades. She pushed her crotch up to me as I thrust down; she pushed back into the mattress as I pulled up.
In a blinding moment of clarity, I realised that three years ago I had married the wrong sister. Three years of torment and despair flashed before my eyes, and a sense of loss filled my mind – the loss of what or who I could have been enjoying.
Jenna gasped loudly, tears formed in the corners of her eyes, and she squeezed me tightly, her nails digging into my back. Her back arched, she pushed up, her mouth opened in a silent scream, and her fanny clamped hard around my dick. She shuddered an intake of air.
“Oh, fuck, TAHHM,” she shrieked as her orgasm rolled through her body. Muscles spasming, tightening, and loosening; her back bucking; her heels scrabbling back and forth. My balls pulsed, my dick twitched, and I exploded. I pumped my spunk deep into Jenna’s fanny, flooding her, filling her.
I slowed then stopped, easing back, my softening dick falling from her fanny with a slight plopping sound. She bent up and I kissed her; I kissed her with the passion of three lost years. Then I eased down her body. I kissed each nipple, I buried my tongue in her navel, and I found myself at the top of her crease.
I slid my hands across her thighs and she moaned softly. I eased my tongue between her lips, I pressed at her clitoris. I chewed at it, I tugged it. She shook and grabbed my head. I went below, deep into her valley, her inner folds sliding over my tongue. I licked, I sucked, and I tasted our combined juices.
I knew in that moment that I had to throw the poison apple away. Brenda had to go.
I had found the Garden of Eden. I had to somehow stay with Jenna. She was, and always had been, my future.
