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A Long Time Coming Ch 04 3

A Long Time Coming Ch 04 3

by immaterialist
19 min read
4.54 (3100 views)
adultfiction
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*David*

I could get used to waking up the way I did that day. I didn't want to get used to it though, I wanted to feel that sense of absolute gob smacked wonder at waking up next to my twin sister Dana every day for the rest of my life.

Being in love with her when we were teenagers, and our parents' absolute opposition to it, ultimately lead to our family tearing itself apart in a single night. My father and I had come to blows and I was literally thrown out of the house.

From that night on mine and Dana's lives had been almost completely separate. I enlisted in the army the next morning and had been in basic training on 9/11. I had served tours in Afghanistan and Iraq conducting counter-insurgency operations until I was wounded by an IED, bad enough to take me out of theater but not enough to end my career. I filled the rest of my twenty-three year career as an urban combat instructor. Now that I had retired I took a job with a security company to train police and corporate security officers.

Dana had gone to college, made a half-hearted attempt at a singing career (a pity because she really did have the voice of an angel), got married, had kids, divorced, and was running a successful business.

The divorce had been bad. Bruce had been making threats and harassing her and her twins at all hours. It was the first time Dana and I had seen each other in person since that night, and I was taking her to a shooting range to train with the handgun she bought and taught her how to strike his soft spots if he managed to close with her. He showed up one night while I was there, and on her front step I introduced myself and told him about three things. First was to remind him that not only had I participated in infantry combat with all that entailed, but that I was good enough at it that the army tasked me with training other soldiers on how to do it. Second, that because of him I had had to come and teach my sister enough of those things that she could protect herself, her kids, and how he was no longer welcome there. Third, that if he did manage to hurt her or the kids that I would burn my career and future to the ground to ensure that he would be permanently paralyzed from the neck down by the time he would stand trial. He got the point and never darkened my sister's doorstep again.

When I came back into the house from speaking with Bruce, Dana was looking around a corner from the kitchen. She relaxed when I calmly locked the door behind me. She ran into my arms and wept quietly.

No one can tell you how good just being family could feel, being the brother there to protect his sister. I looked over her shoulder and saw the twins peeking out of the hallway to the bedrooms.

That trip was the first time I had ever met her kids, twins Robbie and Simone. I recall thinking Robbie was remarkably stoic for a ten year-old given what was going on. I only caught glimpses of Simone. Dana said she was really shy, but when I did see her she had an intensity in her look that made me uneasy. Only recently had Dana explained it as her trying to read me.

I directed Dana's attention to them. She turned from me and opened her arms to them. Robbie's stoicism broken, Simone's shyness forgotten, they raced to her. I faded a few steps back, letting them have the moment.

At the time I had been wrestling with the idea of having a family of my own, but there was no one in my life that I even considered a potential partner. Looking at my sister and her kids I contemplated ways to be more in their lives. Then I scolded myself for indulging those fantasies.

The only other times we had been physically present together have been for the separate funerals for our parents. Dad's was five years ago, Mom's a couple of days ago. Both were sudden passings, Dad died in an industrial accident and Mom of a stroke. I regretted not having cleared things with Dad, but I couldn't bring myself to do so with Mom even then. Not that she seemed to have changed her frostiness towards me.

Dana had found Mom's diaries, and with them the secret that had set the paths of our lives. Mom and Dad had been twin brother and sister just like us. They had left their family to live as husband and wife, but they had done everything to keep Dana and I from having a relationship like theirs. Right there in bed with Dana I was happier than I had ever been, but I would have been lying if I still didn't feel traces of the shame Mom and Dad had built in me. Fuck the shame, I chose to love my sister.

I must have moved a bit too much because Dana stirred awake, lifting her head from my chest. She looked up at me and we just looked in each other's eyes in silence for several moments.

"You know," she said, "we should just take a day and spend it in bed together. It's not really a proper honeymoon without it and we won't have the opportunity when we get home."

"So tempting," I said, "but deadlines are a bitch and we only have three more days to clear everything out of here."

"Well damn, Sarge, you're no fun." She pouted while reaching down and taking me in hand. I groaned.

"I didn't say we couldn't have any fun." I slipped a hand between us and cupped her breast. She gave a throaty moan that was almost a purr.

She pulled herself up to kiss me, then threw a leg across to hold herself above me. With little preamble she set to taking me into herself.

"You seem anxious to go," I said, allowing her to set the pace.

"I was having lovely dreams. We had just had our date, and I snuck into your room in the middle of the night to find you ready for me. Mmm, I rode you like this while you caressed my body."

"Like this?" I asked and slid my hands from her hips, along the strong muscles of her abdomen and up to her breasts.

"Oh, yessss," she hissed. Dana's breasts were perfect. They were proud and high and exactly filled my hands. Holding and squeezing them somehow felt even more forbidden than the wonderful sensations her vagina was giving my penis. Her nipples were brown and contrasted with the pale skin of her tan lines. I tickled her along those lines.

She giggled.

"You brat. I don't usually have tan lines. A nice thing about working from home is that while the kids are at school I could go out by the pool and sunbathe completely naked. Sometimes I would take work calls, my computer on the side table, me completely naked talking a client through their tax liability."

Her pace bouncing on my dick had increased as she talked.

"I would definitely pay extra for an in person consultation with you like that."

"Only for you, and I would never charge family. The irony, summer vacation is the only time I have tan lines. But it would be good to have you there, I've always needed someone to oil my back."

I finally took her nipples between my fingers. They were barely longer than my fingers were thick, so I could pinch them with just enough rising above to lick, which was exactly what I intended to do.

I started to sit up to do just that, but Dana put her hands on my chest and pushed me back down.

"No, stay there. Keep pinching me like that."

"Like this?" I increased the pressure and added a little pull.

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"Oh god, yes! Just like that!" She threw her head back, eyes closed, her muscles started to quiver. Her hips pounded up and down, swallowing and releasing my cock in her heavenly grip.

"More, David, please more."

I did as the lady asked. I pulled harder on her nipples, my eyes glued to her face to catch the first sign that it was becoming too much. All I saw were the contortions of trying to hold back a tide of pleasure until it became too much to contain.

"Aaaaah FUCK!" Dana screamed. Her hands clapped up and covered mine, demanding even more pressure on her breasts. Her body quaked, head thrown back feeling every bit of the pleasure she had taken from me. Her vagina became a vice. She ground her hips into mine. I fought back the temptation to release myself into her, I wanted more.

She opened her eyes, the same beautiful brown eyes I had fallen in love with when we were teens. At the time I thought I would never see anything more beautiful, but I could cut that kid some slack as he had no way to know the vision his sister would become.

Dana dropped herself back on top of me. She took my face in her hands and gave me a kiss that tolerated no resistance. As if any was offered.

"You haven't finished," she observed.

"No."

"Good. I want you to use me like I just used you."

"Yes, ma'am," I said. I planted a foot and opposite hand on the bed, wrapped the other arm around Dana and flipped us both over. Dana squealed, and once again when I rolled her over face down and pulled her back under me.

"Oh god, I love how you move me like that, oh fuck, yes!" The last was as I lifted her hips and drove myself back into her.

There weren't any words from there. I put a hand onto her shoulders to keep her down. She didn't have much leverage to participate in what I was doing upon her, just like she asked, but she definitely tried to meet me in every thrust. Her tight bubble butt quivered from the impacts I was giving. She moaned with each thrust while I was quietly focused on pursuing my release.

My pace quickened, and soon release was irresistible. I grabbed her hips and buried myself as deeply into her as I could and gave in to my eruption. I roared with the orgasm. The pleasure tearing through me almost drove me to unconsciousness. Through it all I heard Dana wailing a perfect high note.

I managed to roll to the side while I collapsed, falling next to Dana rather than on her. The only sound in the room was two forty-one year olds trying to catch their breaths after fucking like teenagers.

"Okay," gasped Dana once she got herself turned over, "that should hold me over until tonight."

"Dear god, woman, are you really my sister or some sort of nymph changeling?"

She laughed, musically as I should have expected.

"First, I finally have the man of my literal dreams all to myself. Second, it's been a while since I've had a man, especially someone good."

"How long?" I asked, thinking it would be like my year without.

"Not since Bruce."

"What? Eight years? Seriously? Why?"

She rolled over again so she was in my favorite position, her head on my chest, an arm and leg across me.

"Publicly I said I was too busy between the business and keeping up with all of the kids' activities." She then turned to looked up to my eyes. "Privately it was because the man of my dreams had come racing to my rescue, and I knew no one else would ever measure up."

We lapsed into silence for a moment.

"I was tempted that night," said Dana. "The kids were asleep, and I was giving serious thought to going to you on the couch, taking your hand, and leading you back to my bedroom."

"Wow. Funny, I was thinking of that night earlier. I saw you comforting Robbie and Simone after Bruce left and I felt that perhaps being ready to drop everything and be there when you needed me was fatherhood enough to satisfy me. At the same time though, I was dismissing a fantasy that you might offer me the chance to be the kids' stepfather as the same to-good-to-be-true dream that you had been in love with me."

"David?"

"Yes?"

"Always trust your instincts when it comes to me. You haven't been wrong yet. Oh, and another thing?"

"Yes?"

"When you go looking for an apartment, find a place with thick walls, I really like being a screamer."

*Dana*

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We did get out of bed a little later. As much as I wanted to simply make love with David all day I had to agree that there was still a lot to get done before Mom's house was ready to sell. No doubt David could motivate soldiers as a Master Sergeant, but when you have to provide for a family by running your own business your boss can be a real bitch at times.

The plan was I pack and David split his time repairing, painting, and hauling boxes out to the storage container. My original plan had been to do Mom's room the day David first arrived, but obviously we found a better use for it before packing it up. Working the day and making love at night was a perfectly fine plan.

A perfectly fine plan. Too bad it didn't make it through the first day.

That afternoon I was wrapping glassware in the kitchen. I had my music app playing through a 90's grunge/metal mix. I was singing along like I always did, right up until that one song came up. I loved Pearl Jam, but as soon as they would start Last Kiss I would always go diving for the skip button or change the channel.

The song was sappy and maudlin as hell, but that wasn't why I hated it. I hated it because it had come onto the radio scarcely ten minutes after Mom called to tell me that David had been badly injured by a bomb in Iraq. It was the middle of the day, Bruce was at work and the kids were at school. Between the call and the song playing I had been just sitting at the desk in the home office staring into space. Then the song started and I just lost it. I screamed, I cried, I barely restrained myself from breaking shit. I was afraid for him. Mom said that the army said he was stable and on route to Germany for secondary care, but I was still scared to death.

The guilt was crushing, that my teenaged self-centeredness had started the chain of events that brought him to death's door with no guarantee he'd survive. David had absolved me of the responsibility I had put on myself, and that guilt was fading. Still, that song brought me back to that call like the first time. This time, though, I had something I could do about it.

I walked to the room David was painting. He was whistling the tune.

"David?"

His head snapped around at the sound of my voice. Tears were running down my face.

"Oh my god, what's wrong?" he asked as he set the roller on the floor.

I ran into his arms, took his face in my hands, and kissed him desperately.

I didn't say a word, merely pulling him to the ground. I guided him onto his back as I frantically tried to pull down his sweatpants without breaking the kiss. He got the point and took care of them and I switched to taking my shorts off.

Like that morning I didn't delay taking him in. I wasn't ready but I didn't give a shit.

Unlike that morning I pulled him up so I could have his arms around me and mine around him. I settled into his lap and came to a rest. That was what I needed, him, there, around me, in me, feeling his breath near my ear, holding him so tight I could feel his heart beating next to mine. That position became my favorite in that moment. We kissed tenderly, slowly removed one another's shirts and my bra. I slowly ground on him and he was once again worshipping my breasts with his lips and tongue. His devotion brought out sensations in them no one else had given me. I felt my orgasm build quickly. The look in David's eyes told me he was close too, so I kissed him deeply as with both rode our waves of ecstasy together.

"It's that damn song," I said when I let us come up for air. I told him my history with the song, and what it meant to me now. "Life is too fucking short, and I've already lost you too many times."

"Never again, I swear I will never leave you again."

"That, my soldier boy, is a bullshit promise and you know it. I'm sure Dad made a promise like that to Mom. She told me that the worst part of how she lost him was that it was just another day at work. They had breakfast together, kissed good-bye, he left for work and she never saw him again."

We sat in silence, simply holding one another.

"You're right," he said, "so then, until death do us part."

"Until death do us part," I whispered back. We kissed tenderly again, and then I got up, got my clothes, and went back to work. Separate, but not apart.

Talking about Mom and Dad just then reminded me of Mom's diaries. I decided then that I needed to understand why she had chosen to do what she did. Even with my solace break with David I was ahead of schedule with packing for the day. I could push and then use the time in the delving our family history.

I was able to take a couple of hours that evening before David was ready to call it a day. Going straight to what she wrote about that night felt like putting the cart before the horse, I wanted to know why she was so vehemently against us.

There were a couple of things I was able to pick up quickly. First, she was prone to panic spirals like I was. Journaling had been her main outlet for controlling them since she was a teen.

The journals and her brother Jeremy, Dad, that was. She described him as a calm and quiet presence who was always there to steady her. Somehow I had forgotten that about Dad, how he was always so slow to show emotion. The violence of that night between him and David had colored my memory. It was a new light on the story of the guy trying to force himself on Mom on the Fourth of July, that he was capable of such violence coming to her defense. Thinking back on him, I was surprised that I never made the connection between Dad's and Robbie's stoic personalities.

The second discovery was something I never in a million years would have expected. It seemed that our parents enjoyed the 70's. I mean

really

enjoyed the 70's. Hippies, psychedelics, rock and roll, and free love. They had taken being in an intensely committed, incestuous relationship as license to transgress whatever limitations they wished. I went skimming through and completely read a few pages detailing parties they had attended.

Mom didn't spare the details, and despite it being our parents it was some seriously erotic reading. Her stories told of threesomes and more with both men and women. I didn't know which I found harder to picture, Mom with other men alongside Dad or the things she was describing doing with other women, only sometimes with Dad. In all cases they were doing it in the same room, never separately. She wrote of the happiness on Dad's face when she would mouth "I love you" when a playmate was driving her to orgasm, and that his in return while he "

fucked the slut I gifted him

" would put her over the top. It wasn't entirely clear whether "playmate" and "slut" were different people in that instance or not.

What she always enjoyed the most was after the parties, alone together, where Dad would "reclaim" her. Her writing there was always romantic and tender, that it always came back to Jessica and Jeremy against the world.

I went into reading the diaries that afternoon wanting to be outraged at our parents having the decades together that David and I had been denied. But every time I tried a little voice would say something like I was that age when Robbie and Simone started walking. In a perfect world they would have been David's children, but maybe the one we were making was the best of both.

Mom being bisexual too didn't shock me as much as I thought it would. Finding so many intimate similarities between us was making my head spin. I told David he was my first man since Bruce, but I hadn't been totally without. After my divorce was final I did a girls'-night-out bender with Jane MacGregor, client turned friend and singing coach for Simone, in observation of my delayed birthday and the great CPA holy day of April 16. The night out ended with two single moms scratching one another's itches and since then it became the finale of that night out each year.

But still, the stories just didn't work with my memories of my parents who were in their forties by the time I was paying attention. I mentally tried to shift to thinking of them in their twenties. I had found no pictures of them at that age. If I had found any pictures of those scenes they probably would have flat out melted my mind. So I substituted myself at that age because it had been obvious all my life that I was Mom's spitting image. That proved to be a mistake as wires crossed and I conjured an image of my mature father fucking my younger self.

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