Brotherly Love Ch 02 Of 03

(c) by fanfare

- present -[date=2006]

"....... Robert, I swear to God that I would never betray you with another man......."

- flashback -[date=1998]

Hospital scene when I first saw Byron, my son, suckling at Megan's breast in the hospital bed. Our young daughters were oohing and aahing at the sight of the newborn. Our close friends, Deborah and Penelope entered with Eliza, the daughter I had fathered on them, our last year at Uni. Eliza 9 ran over to join Joanne 6 and Melody 4, my daughters by Meg. They happily made room for the bigger girl. The three girls were gently petting the baby as they whispered squeals of excitement. Three years later, Kerry would be the last child Meg and I would have.

I was so proud that day. I had fathered a son! A Robert Robertson Junior, hurrah!

Actually we named the boy after my father, so my son would be Byron Robertson IV.

But secretly in my mind, I called him Robert Junior.

- present -[date=2006]

Megan lifted her head up, looking at me with a shock stricken face and sobbed "But I've never been unfaithful Rob. Never! You are and always have been, the only man I have ever loved and ever had sex with in almost twenty years. This can't be true! It just cannot. The test has to be wrong Robert, it has to be!"

Doctor Khurahasan had a sympathetic look on his face as he explained "Mister and Missus Robertson, I am sorry. When we realize that there may be possible discrepancies in the result. Our required standard procedure is to have the tests rerun and verified by another laboratory. Then another consultant, it was Dr. Meyers, double-checked the results."

My beloved wife was wailing as she heard this. My mind was roiling at this confirmation of my long-held suspicions.

Finally! Here was scientific proof, no matter what my wife claims, that I was NOT the biological father of 'Our' son.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, now I must now uncover the secrets that could tear our loving marriage apart. I must force myself to openly confront the suspicions I have been concealing for several years now. As I had gradually become aware of the mystery silently haunting our personal lives.

I pushed my chair around close to Meg's and grasped her shaking hands.

"I think I can explain what must have happened nine years ago. The father of our son, Byron, must have been my brother, Charles."

"No!!" My wife shrieked "No, No...Nooo!!" She almost wrenched free of my hands, in a desperate bid to escape the shame of having to admit to that she could have ever been unfaithful to me.

- flashback -[date=1997]

Rob on phone with Meg, she was at home packing, explaining that he will be late to Great-Gramma's party. Robert apologizes to his wife but he won't arrive at their Hotel until the day after the party. Megan is disappointed but resigned. This mission is an important step in Robert's career. It meant he was trusted by his superiors and on the fast track for promotion. He tells her to hang onto the room and when he gets there he'll still have two days off for them to enjoy it.

[two days later]

..........Charles scrambled backward away from his sister-on-law, in horror at what he had just done. Falling off the bed with a loud thump and tangle of his still drink impaired limbs.

He crawled across the floor to a chair and used it to pull himself to his feet. Then braced, he stood there dumbly staring away from the bed. If he didn't look at the bed, what he had just done wasn't real and he could ignore the guilt beating at his stupefied conscience........

...........Carefully Charles staggered his way down the hotel hallway to the elevator. While sagging against the elevator railing he started to sob, then forced himself to be silent as he went through the almost empty lobby out through the post-midnight darkness and into the ugly lighting of the carpark...........

- present -[date=2006]

In a voice hoarse with horror, she defied the scientific evidence "I never had sex with Charles! Robert, I swear to God that I would never betray you with another man. Certainly not with your own brother. Hell Robert, you bloody damn well know I never liked him much! He and I were never friends. Charles was always hostile to me, to all women as far as I could tell. I...I...No!" She broke down wailing and almost slipped to the floor.

I leaned to her and grasped her into my arms and pulled my sobbing wife onto my lap. Attempting to reassure her that her world was not about to end. No matter what foolish insults the small-minded andro-shrews and evil-hearted prodigal scolds would hurl at her.

The Doctor handed over a plastic cup and a bottle of water. I poured Meg a cup of water which she drank with trembling hands. I took a couple of sips from the bottle to refresh my throat. I was pondering hard to clarify all the sad memories I had left of my sibling.

"Sweetie. Darling Meg. No sweetheart, it is not as bad as you think. The report is probably true. It actually clears up some suspicions I have had the last few years. Please hear me out, let me explain why this is a good thing. You are not at fault here. I do not hold you to any blame. I do not question your honor or your commitment to our marriage vows."

I handed her the box of tissues, conveniently placed on the desk and kept trying to reassure her and the very confused looking consulting physician.

I looked at the Doctor and asked. "The DNA results show that the biological father was a close male relative of mine. Correct?"

Dr. Khurahasan hemmed and hawed for a couple of seconds, then grudgingly admitted that would probably be the most logical answer for these test results. Suspected men would each have to be tested to pinpoint the most probable culprit.

I shook my head and said "That would be impossible, Charlie died nine years ago in a fiery car crash."

I marshaled my thoughts, then began to explain why I had recently come to believe that my own brother had fathered 'Our' son, Byron.

"Charlie, well, Charlie had become a bitterly angry, resentful, misogynic pussy-hound the last few years of his life. Yes, I see the contradictions, I suspect that was his compulsion."

"Growing up, he was a great brother and a close friend to me all through our teens. Charles was athletic and smart and clever and good fun. I started at the University and he followed two years later and everything was swell. I am not afraid to say that I loved him as a brother, a friend and a confidant. And he looked up to me as his mentor during his first couple of years at Uni, until I graduated."

"Charley was a bright, normal, healthy young man and a lady pleaser. Most of us lads at that age are too immature to keep any intelligent woman interested past one or two dates." I ruefully chuckled, then winced as I remembered my own fumbling, skirt-chasing days.

Megan started to speak up as she nodded her heard. I'd guess to agree with my assessment of boy-men but then she subsided and just laid her head against my shoulder.

"Now Charley, his relationships were few but lasting. When he was serious about a specific woman, he was loyal and true to her. I would never have doubted his commitment to Laura when they became engaged while still at the University. When I left Uni and started at Tetracomm, it seemed to me that he and his fiance Laura, were destined to be married upon their graduation and live happily ever after."

I made an effort to control the anguish in my voice.

- flashback -[date=1991?/1992?]

"Something went wrong. Something bad happened. It ate at Charlie and it began him down a spiral of self-destructive behavior. From what little he was ever willing to tell me, Laura's birth control failed one month and she became pregnant. I think he said something about the University Clinic prescribing her a new brand of birth control pills. During the switchover, an egg and a sperm must have slipped through."

"To add to the pressures on her, Laura's father had quietly arranged a lucrative job for her at a friend's brokerage upon her graduation. He had refused to take their engagement seriously. He believed their's was just a convenient University affair that would end after graduation when they would have to face the cold reality of trying to establish their careers. I think he deliberately wanted to sabotage their engagement."

"Well, as much as Laura loved Charlie and intended to marry him and eventually have his children, at this point she felt trapped. She terminated the pregnancy but didn't tell Charlie until she occasioned some minor but bloody messy medical complication a week or so later. She couldn't hide it from him anymore."

"I think their relationship might have survived this difference of opinion if she had trusted him enough to tell him before the abortion. He probably would have agreed to the procedure."

"He knew an unplanned baby would have put a real spanner into their future hopes. I think it was her attempt to conceal the decision making from him that slowly began to eat away at him. Also, I cannot be certain but I do not think she had explained to Charlie before that time, about the nepotism her father had arranged for her in the City. Maybe she knew, maybe not?"

"I had only met the man a couple of times. My vague memories are, that he was a bit of a snob and full of his own self-importance as a leading merchant banker. Descended from some blue-blooded line or another."

"One of those 'Always Right - Never Wrong - About Anything!' bores. He would never let you forget his superiority to us common folk."

"Charlie, before Laura's abortion, did this very funny Colonel Blimp bit mimicking him. Afterwards, if the man came up in a conversation, Charlie's language got coarse and vituperative. Viciously mocking his pretensions. I agreed with Charlie then, but honestly now, today? I have to wonder. If that man, Laura's father, was prescient?"

"Detecting, if just subconsciously, that there was a basic flaw in my brother? A man trying to protect his daughter from a potential disaster of a bad marriage? As a father of daughters myself, I am now a lot more sympathetic towards his attempt to shield his own daughter."

"After they graduated, Laura was working in the City as her father had arranged and Charlie wound up with Triangle Shipping in Hull. With the distance and clashing work schedules, their engagement quickly fizzled away. Undoubtably, to the smug satisfaction of Laura's father. I wonder if though his connections, he had somehow arranged for Charlie's position with Triangle?"

"Soon after he moved to Hull, on the rebound I would guess, Charlie met Yvonne Tchavensk. He fell hard for her. He was definitely in lust with her. Maybe it was love........."

- flashback -[date=early 1993]

The front door slammed open as the two entwined people crowded through the doorway without releasing their torrid kiss. The man roughly shoved the woman over towards the couch, that he could retrieve his keys from the lock and shut out the cold from the stairway. Charley was glad he had remembered to leave his flat's electric heater on low before he left. It was comfortable enough for both of them to work their way out of their greatcoats, gloves and wellys, her long babushka, his watch cap and neck scarf.

Hull in mid-Winter, with the Arctic winds blasting across the North Sea, is a miserable experience. To punctuate that unpleasant season, the windows rattled from a gust of sleet-driving wind barely audible behind the heavy drapes.

Yvonne, handing him her gear to hang up by the door, gave him a smoldering look with those dark blue Slavic sloe eyes of hers. Then ran the tip of her pink tongue over her smeared lipstick. Her hair was a mess after unwinding her babushka. She wasn't one for putting it up in a bun. 'Fuck Star Wars!' she'd always say. She hated that country bumpkin/princess leah cinnamon bun look.

Charles was still wondering what color to call her hair. Very light blonde? With silver-white intermixed. Is this what they mean by flaxen?

"Ohkay Charley, get'cha head outda yourn thinkin', n'get mea ah fookin' drank halready!" She teased him.

Every time she did that mish-mash of bad accents, he felt a twinge of amusement and a cringe of disbelief. But Yvonne was the one who had to work with those people she was mocking and not him. Just for a brief Charley had a fleeting thought. 'What does she mimic about me when I am not around?'

'Probably everything!' He laughed ruefully at his own paranoia. He went into the kitchenette and pulled a bottle of Smirnoff out of the refrigerator freezer. Generously pouring four fingers of clear spirits each, into a pair of large cut-glass tumblers, that had also been kept on ice. After returning the bottle to the freezer to keep it cold, he carried the drinks into the living room.

His breath sucked in, when he saw that she had taken off her Aran cable-knit jumper and ski-slacks and was now comfortably lounging against the bolster arm of the couch wearing only an overflowing demi-bra and matching scanty-panty.

She giggled when Charles groaned as in pain. He handed her one of the tumblers, then toasted her alabaster beauty with a salute of his glass "Yvonne, my darling. My compliments to your parents for creating such a beautiful daughter!"

"Hon behaf o'Meesster hn Meessus Tchavensk, hi haccep thu chomplihmeant han hacknowlhedge yourn perspicuity." They both laughed then slugged down a good swallow of the vodka.

After some throat-clearing and with a suddenly red-face, he snarked with a squeaky voice "Smooooth! hacough"

She took another drink and purred approval "This is why I am so thankful my parents emigrated to England. That I was born here. I've visited my cousins in Omsk and you would not believe the shoddy radiator fluid they have to drink." She juddered theatrically at the memory.

Charley was a London Lad and he could not resist expressing his resentment at being stuck in this provincial port so far from home "Right. The big city ambiance and bright lights of Hull are such an improvement on Omsk!"

She howled at that, leaking some tears in her mirth, Yvonne could barely contain herself from spilling the rest of her drink. They both calmed down to giggles and chuckles as long as they avoided one another's eyes. When their eyes met they would both start laughing again.

Raising his drink in a comically insincere toast, he proclaimed in a portentous voice "To the lovely Lady present and the Gentle man who is Not. For our Queen and our Country. Down the hatch and over the gums, look out stomach, here it comes!"

They both almost choked at the absurdity but still managed to finish and survive their drinks.

She held up her empty glass, waving the tumbler at him with a pretty pout upon her lovely face. She joked "Did you know that the fastest way to a girl's woohoovulva is wodhkhaha past her woulduvula?"

Charley snarked at his Slavic comedienne "I wouldn't touch that joke with a long pole!"

Yvonne sharply riposted with a smirk "If you know any 'looong' Poles, Charley. Do me an introduction, that's a jolly, good fellow."

He shook his head in amazement and went to refill their glasses.

When he came back in the living room, Yvonne was completely starkers. Laid along the couch, one foot planted on the floor and with one long, shapely leg hooked up over the back of the couch. Wantonly spread open, she was stroking a hand through the fine golden hair around her quim. While her other hand tugged at each of her bright pink nipples in turn. Charley's eyes glazed with desire.

He took a quick drink from one tumbler then set it down on a side table. Closing in to loom over the brazen wench on his sofa, he slightly leaned over and proffered the other drink towards her. As her wafting scent pierced him with lust, he could feel his prick, get prickly all over.

She reached up with the hand that'd been stroking her cunny. With his free hand he grabbed her wrist, noting that she kept her fingernails well-trimmed and used only a clear polish on them. 'I guess in winter, having to wear gloves everywhere, it is prudent to be sensible about such things.'

With masterful intent, Charley directed her hand back to running her fingers between her own blossoming rose. Then he pulled that hand up to his face. Too lick and suckle at the finger tips, wet with her feminine perfume. She let out a couple of huffs of breath at this sexual interplay.

Forcing that hand to dip her finger tips into the tumbler of vodka still in his other hand. Again he pulled her wetted fingers into his mouth to enjoy. Another forceful dip of her fingers into the glass, this time he moved the hand to her mouth and allowed her a taste of the spirituous grain.

With a wicked grin, he pulled her wet hand out of her mouth and back down to her pussy. This pass, inserting the slim fingers up to her second knuckle. Moving it back and forth to scoop up that delicious essence of female. This time to pull it out and up to her panting mouth for her to lick and suckle and enjoy her own creamy lust.

Her eyes almost closed, she groaned with pleasure and he could see her vagina spasm in a small orgasm. That was when he handed over the tumbler for her to drink from. Standing back he began to undress himself. Finally nude, his proud flagstaff waving at the naked woman, he reached for his tumbler, drained it and slapped it down on the table. Yvonne gracefully sat up and slapped her own empty tumbler down onto the tabletop.

Then he pulled her to her feet and pulled her body close to his and tried to pull her tongue out of her head with his greedy mouth. While his raging erection tried to poke it's way into her belly button. With her sharp pointed tits rubbing against his hairy chest. Their hands running wild all over one another's rears.

Stepping back he grabbed her upper arm and began leading her to his bedroom. She pretended to briefly resist and was acting like a reluctant prisoner in the hands of an abusive jailer. Amused, Charley played along, muttering "Ve haff vays huff makin Youse stalk!"

Yvonne tried to hold onto the door jamb, he yanked her sprawling down to the bedroom floor. Then he pulled the bedcovers out of the way and laid out over the bottom sheet, one of the large heavy beach towels he keeps in his bedroom for these messy events. Pretending to be a tragic heroine, Yvonne kneeled by the bed with her wild, pale iridescent hair floating across her face. Sobbing for mercy.

Sitting on the bed in front of her, with his dripping cock pointed at her face. Charles' two hands grabbed her silky but thick hair with both his hands and forced her head back, to face him. She even managed to squeeze out a few, fake tears and a quivering lip as her slavic eyes met Charlies.

He then pulled her head into his lap. He grunted when she gave him a mischievous nip on his turgid shaft "Prisoner's who fail to cooperate will undergo the most rigorous of punishments!"

"Hmm, rigorous....as rigorous as this truncheon of yours? Oh, Master Constable! Please do not beat my shy, virginal cunny with your Great! Big! Hard, Cudgel! Puhleeze!"

He snorked at her joking but his sense of humor was evaporating as he was immersed into the boiling heat of her mouth. Bending himself forward, he forced her head down to swallow more and deeper. "God damn! That feels good. Hell, better then good!" He complimented her.

She continued to bob her head up and down in agreement. As he started to ejaculate, she ruthlessly clamped his shaft with her hand to tamp it down to a minor orgasm, followed by a painful reaction from his outraged prostrate.

"What the fuck, Yvonne! Why the hell did you just do that?" He shouted.