My husband and I had recently moved to a new city after receiving our Masters degrees at the university where we met. I was continuing my studies in Psychology, focusing on Marriage and Family Counseling, at the local university, while Jaime, a Fine Arts major, settled into his studio space in the back yard to work on figurative sculpture; he had already made a great impression on the art world with his most recent body of work which had sold well and garnered several commissions from serious collectors. In fact we had accrued enough cash to make a sizable down payment on a modest home, figuring it was a good opportunity to get a foot into the real estate game and achieve some financial security. We had a decent mortgage payment to cover which, while he finished his commission pieces and attracted new work, required me to seek part-time employment to cover our expenses beyond what my student loans covered; serving at an upscale restaurant near the school was a familiar routine that balanced well with my schedule and offered plenty of opportunity to observe human interactions, though it did require pulling late night shifts.
A vibrant sexual connection had been the cornerstone of our relationship from the start, and our new life still offered plenty opportunity to engage in our preferred pastime, though slightly more constrained with responsibilities by our new 'adult' life. Jaime had first been attracted to me as a model (my first six years of college courtesy of a full ride gymnastics scholarship kept me in fine form for posing) and soon the intensity of his attention on my naked body kindled a fire in both our souls that required a more fluid expression than sculpture. We were amazed at how the chemistry ignited between us and delighted to find that it opened a space for true intimacy and love to grow as we soon became not only lovers but best friends and mutual confidants. We had both had other sexual partners on and off through the years, yet we kept coming back to eachother and, in our final year together, decided to get married the summer after we graduated and pursue our future together.
Shortly after settling into our new routine, I got a call from my older sister Kate which brought an unexpected element into our relationship. Kate had suddenly left her brilliant, sexy, abusive psychopathic narcissist boyfriend of 3 years when she realized she was pregnant; she wanted to keep the child but was afraid of being tied to him for the rest of their lives and decided to make a clean break, which meant she would need to leave our hometown, where she was temporarily staying in our parents' home. She asked me if she could come and live with us at least until the birth, hopefully long enough to drop off his radar and let him pick up some different prey while she made a plan for her future.
Kate was five years older than me, my only sibling, and had been my idol while growing up, if not my best friend due to the gap in age and her tendency toward a somewhat adventurous lifestyle of illicit activities. Still she had always been kind and loving to me, a continual window into the mysteries of what opportunities lay just ahead for me. She provided cast-off clothing (probably a bit more risqué than was seemly but absolutely smacking of sophistication to my naïveté) and taught me how to apply makeup and do my hair, boosting my confidence when I finally grew into the world of boys and dating. And of course she had shared at length and in detail concerning the mysteries of sex as she experienced it, preparing me mentally in a way that made most of my peers seem horribly ignorant to me. I also learned a lot observing the repercussions of the darker side of her explorations; hangovers, bruises hidden with makeup, even a couple of clandestine abortions.
In some ways I think that trying to understand her motivations for the choices she made sparked my interest in studying Psychology and helped to steer me onto a somewhat more straight-and-narrow path in my own life, while also stimulating an openness for 'alternative lifestyles' and developing compassion for those who trod into those wilder realms. So deep inside I felt a warm and grateful affection toward her that fostered a desire to help her through this most recent challenge, and I told her I'd love to have her stay in our spare bedroom as long as needed if Jaime was amenable to the idea.
"Maddie, I love you, you are the best sister ever!" she exclaimed in relief.
I was delightfully surprised that Jaime put up little resistance to the plan; they had never really formed much of a bond and he always seemed to judge her as somewhat of a 'puta' as his conservative Mexican family would refer to such a wild woman. My strategy of introducing the subject while fondling and kissing his lovely cock after a particularly passionate balling that evening may have eased him into agreeability. He was fine with her moving in providing she could help with the housekeeping and find a way to chip in equitably on expenses; the house payments being covered left only a portion of utilities and food for her to deal with. Otherwise both of us were pretty busy with our lives and the house was usually empty so another person in the mix, especially family (and he had grown up with the stereotypical Hispanic multi-generational horde) was not such a big deal to him.
Winter holidays were approaching and we all decided that would give us a great opportunity to go home and retrieve her and her belongings and integrate into sharing a home before the next semester swept me up with its demands. Jaime was also wrapping up his commissioned pieces and would have a bit of free time before beginning his next project, an unknown as no further paid work had manifested yet. I booked a flight home for Christmas and my parents sprang for a rental van to transport us back on the 14 hour drive with Kate's meager belongings while Jaime took a few days detour to visit his family in Texas.
Arriving back in my hometown a couple weeks later brought on an unexpected wave of nostalgia, especially with the holiday influence. My parents were delighted to see us; both of them were quite fond of Jaime and my father, a hobby whittler, corralled him off to look at some of his own latest work and get his "professional opinion", leaving us ladies to congregate in the kitchen with a bottle of wine to put the finishing touches on dinner. It seemed to me that Kate was glowing, a combination of that magical effect pregnancy has on some women, though it was still too early for her belly to reveal the evidence, and the relief of liberating herself from her oppressive situation, allowing hope for another new beginning.
There had been a little tension as her ex had tracked her down to the house and proceeded to apologize, plead, and finally extort her to return with him, but my father, a former US Marine who can still bench press 300lb at 55, coolly intervened and convinced him to give her some space with her family through the holidays and then see how she'd be feeling, the obvious implication being that it was the best option for his own immediate physical safety. Of course we were planning to be long gone without a trace by the next time he arrived, without him ever learning of her pregnancy, but Dad's diversionary tactic held the peace for the meantime while we were here.
Mom was ecstatic about becoming a grandmother, and was transported back in time, regaling us with tales of our infancies as we plunged deeper into the bottle of wine, she and I mockingly admonishing Kate about drinking as we stingily filled her glass, reminding her we too have an investment in the health of the child. As much as she pouted about it, I could tell she was basking in the loving attention and concern we showered her with. Mom inevitably raised the question of when Jaime and I might be similarly blessing her and I snorted up a bit of wine and writhed on the kitchen floor in a fit of hysterical laughter (I have a tendency toward histrionics when I'm tipsy) reminding her that I was in the middle of earning my PhD and that she ought to put that idea on hold for a few years; one new addition to the clan would have to suffice for now and she could well focus on being grateful for that at present.
The next few days were a nice time huddled in the house, cozy and warm with loved ones as a mild snowstorm passed thru. Jaime and I did a bit of hiking out into the woods nearby to get some privacy and unleash our animalistic urges; outdoor fuckery has always been a thrill we shared. A natural setting lends a certain potent majesty to the act and there is always the illicit thrill that some unsuspecting other might catch us in the midst of of our revelry, though the chances were slim in this instance. We did manage a good shag without frostbite and returned home satiated if a bit sweaty and disheveled. Kate greeted us at the door and I sensed she knew what we'd been up to, there was a certain glint in her eye and a wistful smirk on her face. I think she was surprised that her little sister might not be so completely vanilla as she thought.
Jaime flew out in the early morning of Christmas Eve day to celebrate with his family (neither of us are attached to the importance of holidays together, having always spent them with our respective families throughout our relationship, the outcome of a semi-casual college romance, and so had yet to create any tradition of Christmas together) leaving our clan to our familiar peculiar rituals. Though I'd made a regular habit of visiting my folks each winter, Kate's presence was wavering, and during her relationship of the past three years she had been absent, following the lead of her keeper to avoid unwanted drama. So there was a special sense among us of the sanctity of this moment and the new chapter that our family's story was preparing to pass into.
Dinner was predictably delicious considering our combined efforts in the kitchen throughout the day, well lubricated with plentiful libations. After the meal there was a stillness to the night heightened by the slow, steady increase in volume of the roving band of carollers who eventually arrived then passed on in the rounds of their office. Shutting the door on their departure, Mom and Dad quipped that they were off to bed so as not to interfere with Mr. Klaus' duties and, following hugs and kisses, they made their way arm-in-arm up the stairway to their bedroom.
