The Brother's Wife

Sunday found the two, walking side by side down a narrow country lane. It took an effort to try to avoid the puddles as they made their way to church. Sean at times even carried Moya across, their touches lingering, their eyes holding promises of what would come tonight.

Sitting through the homily dutifully, they tried to avoid the obvious sideways glances that young love thought was done so subtly. Their hands occasionally brushed, their knees pushed against each other. Neither one really heard much of the repetitious words.

As they turned to leave the church, Sean finally saw his brother. His red cheeks and glassy eyes told him he was still drunk from last night, or that he had already started this morning. Guilt struck him. The fact that he was before God at the time only made it worse.

"I need money." Ian said as they stood outside the church. His breath sliding across the breeze to land in Sean's nose.

Sean tried to avoid his brother's eyes and the foulness of his breath. He imagined that Ian would be able to tell what he and Moya had done. "I have no money. You took the last coins, months ago."

Ian glared at his brother. "What about the money you got for cutting the peat last fall? I know you kept some of it."

"It bought the seed I just planted. It took all of it. We have nothing left." Sean explained.

"What am I going to do for money? I have bills to pay." Ian began to fume. His fingertips pulling at the ragged cuff of his shirt. The tab at the pub had been stopped. Way too late in fact, it was almost larger than the worth of his land.

"What about your lovely keepsakes?" Ian turned to Moya as she stood watching the two. "What's left?"

"Nothing." Moya lied. She still had a tiny pendant from her mother. The last thing she had been given before she died. "You sold the last of them over a year ago." Her voice carried a little less hurt than normal from the offense. Ian had ripped most of her past away from her over the years. Now, the tiny items seemed unimportant.

Ian's eyes narrowed as he examined his wife for the hint of a lie. She had to be lying. Women always kept something. They always lied. After a long stare, he sighed and turned away, heading towards the village.

The walk home was quiet. Their touches didn't linger. Sean avoided looking at her. He carried her over the puddles, but his eyes avoided hers, his hands a bit rough.

"What's wrong?" Moya asked, her eyes trying to find his but failing.

Sean shrugged and shook his head. "Nothing."

"Is it Ian, or me?" She persisted.

"I don't want to talk about it." Came his brusque answer. His belly turned over from the guilt of what he had done.

Sean sat on his bed, his head in his hands, staring at the floor. He had avoided Moya all day. Dinner passed without a single syllable between them. Green eyes had stared at him between bites. His never left his plate.

Pretty little toes appeared on the floor in front of him and then ankles. Sean saw the ragged hem of a dress. It made him angry to see Moya dressed so poorly. Threadbare and poor wasn't what she deserved.

"Would you please talk to me." Moya said softly. She held her hands in front of her, desperately wanting to run her fingers through his hair.

"We can't do this. I can't keep doing this to you." He said in a whisper, his eyes closed to stop from staring at her cute little toes.

"Doing what to me?" She could hear the guilt in his voice. The realization that he wasn't angry with her made her less anxious.

"We're committing adultery." He pulled at his hair. "We're sinning."

Moya knelt at his feet, her hands slid over his. "We aren't doing anything wrong. I need you to keep doing this to me. I need you, Sean." Her voice caught just barely in her throat. She rested her head against his forehead. "We both need this."

Sean's heart raced. His body was already betraying what his mind had decided. His body tensed, as he fought the urge to pull her into his bed. He jumped as her warm lips brushed across his brow, her hands gently caressing his.

"Moya...we can't." His eyes finally met hers, showing the torture of fighting the cascading emotions within him.

He saw mist forming in her eyes as her lower lips quivered. She was nodding slightly, her eyes large, pleading. "Let me do this then. I'll be the one sinning. Just lie back and let me. Please, Sean."

Sean let her push him to the bed. Her fingers found his trousers and pulled them down slightly. She pushed up his shirt and straddled him, lifting her dress. Her eyes had already seen that he was fully aroused. Moya ran her hands up his stomach as she let her weight down on him. The shaft of his cock being absorbed into the folds of her labia.

It pulled a broken tremor out of his body to feel the heat between her legs. Sean sat up and threw his shirt over his head, his hands reaching for the buttons of her dress. The smile on Moya's face caused him to chuckle. "Don't say a word, woman."

They scrambled to get out of their clothes. Moya's arms were high above her head when Sean's lips found her breast. Her body jerked from the force of his lips as they wrapped around her areola. It caused her clitoris to roll slightly against the tip of her cock, sending waves of fire rolling up her spine.

She pushed him back down, and slid off of him to pull his trousers to the floor. He flipped the blanket back and crawled into bed, Moya following quickly. Sean found himself on his back again. Her body stretched out sliding slowly up his. Her breasts brushing across her body, her lips and tongue slowly leaving trails of wet pleasure behind.

When she got back to the top of his body, his hands threaded through her hair and pulled her lips to his. Their tongues met, parting their lips as they both explored. Sliding and teasing, their hands trying to pull each other tighter. He rolled them, pushing his legs between hers.

Moya opened her eyes to see him smiling down at her. His eyes shining brightly in the dimming light. "I want to be on top." She tried to roll back over, but his weight held her pressed to the bed.

"Tough." He let a smirk appear on his lips. "My bed, my rules."

She tried to glare, but his lips found her breast before she could, his hand teasing the other. He felt her knees come up, her hands pushed him further down her body. His lips moved rapidly between her legs, sending tiny ripples through her stomach. Each time his tongue wet her skin, a new fire erupted inside her. She felt his fingertips playing along the back of her leg. When his mouth finally closed around her clitoris, she could hardly breath.

Sean moved his hands away from her body, gripping the blanket tightly, trying not to just find his own pleasure. He wanted to see her face glowing from the pleasure he could give her. Her body was turning and twisting as he ran his tongue between her silken lips. He could feel her trembling. Her ass refused to stay on the bed.

Moya's fingers teased her nipples, gently rolling each breast. She felt the now familiar ache cresting as his tongue moved inside her. "Now." She blurted out, her hands gripping his hair to pull him up her body.

He obeyed instantly. His knees came up as he rose above her. Pushing down on his cock, her hips met him halfway. The heat that surrounded his cock as he slid into her caused his entire body to tense. His mind was trying to keep a steady rhythm, but his hips began to drive into her desperately.

Her hand reached down and ran quickly across her clit. Her body shuddered as her head rolled side to side. Moya's insides seemed to roll. Tendrils of liquid pleasure flared out everywhere. Tumbling through her, causing her to jerk and convulse against them. Fighting to keep them within her. Too soon, they seemed to drift away from her, leaving behind aftershocks that twitched random muscles. A deep happy sigh slid past her lips, her eyes half open. She hadn't even noticed Sean had stopped and was simply watching her in amazement.

Sean lowered himself down. His wild passion had somehow turned to something else, something softer. Gentle lips glided across her cheek as his hips began to roll instead of thrust. He wanted the warmth that surrounded him to last forever.

Moya hands moved across his back, feeling the strong muscles flexing. Tracing the lines of each set of muscles she found. Her head came off the bed as his teeth gently tugged at her bottom lip. Wrapping her legs around, she began to roll her stomach to match his gentle gyrations. Each time his pelvis slid into her clitoris, it sent a streak of fire through her.

"Will you roll over now?" She whispered into his mouth.

His kiss was playful as they rolled. She pushed up and brought her knees under her. Moya's hands pressed down on his stomach as she began to roll and slide her hips. She moved slowly, to the rhythm he had started. She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and ran her teeth across it. Her eyes were locked on his.

They shared a happy smile before his back came off the bed, his hand threaded through her hair at the back of his neck. The other was behind him, holding him off of the bed. His lips parted hers, sliding his tongue deep into her mouth. It seemed to send a splash of fire into her stomach, the ripples sliding around his cock. Her hips began to desperately grind into him. Their tongues entwined, dancing along each other.

Sean's hand left the back of her neck and glided down her spine. Gripping her ass, he squeezed, feeling the muscles of her ass tensing. She leaned into him, pushing him to his back. The gyrations stopped as Sean began to bounce his ass off the bed, driving his cock into her.

She felt him quiver underneath him, his hips trying to drive deeper inside her with each thrust. His body tensed and shook with a raspy broken sigh. It was Moya's turn to watch the storm of pleasure pass across his face. She laughed lightly to see his heavy lidded eyes try to stay open.

His hands came up and pulled her down against him. Her lips found his, barely sliding across them. "How does that hurt anyone?" Moya whispered between kisses.

Sean swallowed hard, his hands playing in the sweat at the small of her back. "It hurts me...you aren't mine."

Moya raised her head to look down at him in the darkness. She could only see the barest of outlines. His blue eyes seemed black. "I am yours. I'm only yours."

They fell asleep with Moya's back pressed tight to his chest. His arm under her head, the other resting on her hip where it had gently caressed for hours as they talked. His breath moved the tiny hairs at the back her neck, each time forcing a fragile shiver to run down her spine. Her fingertips were still lightly touching the palm of his outstretched hand.

Spring turned to summer. The two spent their time wrapped up in each other. Both unaware of the outside world, perfectly content to live their simple life. Ian only rarely made an appearance, never staying long, and never sober. His hand was the first held out when the crops were sold.