Preamble:
In an earlier story, "Mom and Son Homestay Guests", sibling pair homestay hosts, John and Jane, hosted a somewhat unseemly intimate mother and son pair.
In this hosting experience, John and Jane host an English travelling sibling pair. Is there more going on than meets the eye?
This story can be read independently of "Mom and Son Homestay Guests" even though they share some common thematic threads.
***
I have never given any thought on the subject of incest, let alone brother-sister incest. But, an unexpected incidental experience I encountered piqued my interest in this taboo subject.
I'm John. Mid-thirties. Single.
When my parents passed away, my younger sis, Jane, early thirties, single, and I inherited a penthouse condominium apartment.
The condominium tower was perched on a wild desolate hillside. There were no other developments within a 2 kilometer radius. Far from the madding crowd. The penthouse was on the 40th floor. It had 3 bedrooms, a kitchenette cum dining area, and a lounge, that spilled seamlessly to an open patio. A mini 5 meter infinity pool dangled perilously from one corner of the patio in spectacular overhang.
The bedrooms, lounge and patio commanded a spectacular seaview. A coral island bobbed in pristine waters 100 meters offshore.
A little known winding cliff path connected the condominium garden to a secluded beach below. The beach was accessible by this path only.
The penthouse was a private heaven unto itself. No part of it, including the open patio, was within sight of anyone anywhere. A bolthole in the sky! The closest I'll get to heaven without the inconvenience of dying.
Besides the penthouse, my parents left Jane and I a more-than-modest sum of money. A surprise gift of largesse from our austere parents who worked and lived the Protestant Work Ethic. Counterintuitively, the unstated gift from my parents was that they never let on that there would be any inheritance, so that Jane and I were not distracted by moral hazards, in our academic and career pursuits. Between us, Jane was the more conservative one, somewhat influenced by our parents' religious values. But, she was no prude.
The inheritance enabled us to resign from our day jobs, live in and enjoy the penthouse, and pursue home businesses which aligned to our passions. I wrote freelance, dabbled in photography and media artwork. Jane, the pragmatic one, was an avid and shrewd online trader investor.
Jane and I each occupied a bedroom. We ran a homestay on the third bedroom, listed on one of the popular online homestay apps. The homestay room had an in-built washroom and a small balcony. This was productive deployment of an otherwise idle asset. It helped defray our living expenses. And we could orbit the world without venturing past our doorstep, hosting and engaging interesting people from all over the world, on our terms. And homestay guests got to share our skyhaven, and enjoy local immersion. Win-win.
We received a homestay request from the south of England. The requestor was Chloe. A husband and wife pair. Two-week stay. She remarked that she was looking for some place quiet, private, nestled in nature, to chill. The profile pictures of our penthouse, and the vista sweep of hill-thru-sea view impressed her. I studied Chloe's profile picture in the app. She had a pleasant look, maybe in her late forties or early fifties. This would be the second time that we were hosting English guests. Our first was a mother and son traveling pair. We had some interesting experiences from that hosting, to say the least.
Great! We replied that we'd be pleased to host her and her husband. We would pick her and her husband up from the nearest village, 3 kilometers from our condo.
DAY ONE
Chloe messaged me from the village. I drove to the village to meet her.
From a distance, I spied a middle-aged couple at the village cafe. I instinctively scanned round to see if there were other couples nearby. There were none. I then studied the woman's face again. Yes, it looked like Chloe's profile picture. I strode up to them.
We introduced ourselves. Exchanged pleasantries. Chloe introduced her partner as Cole.
I couldn't help but be captivated by Cole and Chloe. They looked the part of brother and sister. Even their mannerisms looked so. A pair of humanity cast from the same mould.
Chloe could sense that I was surprised by their likeness. She felt obliged to explain that Cole was her brother. Cole had at late notice, taken over her husband's place because of her husband's unforeseen work contingency. Her husband had just won a big business deal. Shit happens! But, this was a happy problem. Chloe had to scramble somewhat to source a fill-in at the eleventh hour. Chloe's grown-up children had work commitments. Her girlfriends had work and family entanglements which they couldn't unravel from. Her sister-in-law, Cole's wife, was on an overseas work assignment. Coincidentally, Cole was clearing his excess baggage of office leave carried forward and accumulated over a couple of years. He had to clear them by an immovable deadline, or lose them, by company edict. So, Cole was roped in to this pleasant enterprise.
Chloe in the flesh, looked early fifties. She carried that classic English rose look. A curiously healthy anemic complexion, with a light dusting of freckles. And then nuances of cheeky warm cuddly lusciousness. Comely was the word that would do her social justice. Five feet, four inches. She was lush topside. Chloe was what an English rose named Chloe would classically look like.
Cole was a 6-footer. Likely late forties. Probably the younger brother. He had his measured share of soft contours apt for his age group. A good-looking man with a determined jaw. His aquiline attributes contrasted complementingly with the mellowed features of his body form to project an Adonis hunk shaped by lived experience. I knew my sis would be mutedly pleased to have this living sculpture grace our humble abode for the next two weeks.
We gathered the luggage. It was a single backpack. I asked if there was more that would be forwarded to the condominium later. No. This was it. Hmmm... this was economical. Oh well, I guess bikinis and lite casual apparel don't consume much space. I drove back to the condominium. Cole and Chloe enjoyed the coastal drive along the winding road that hugged the hillside as it wound up. They were warming up. As we approached the condominium tower, brother and sister were awed by the 40-storey massive erection, on the hillslope, that would be their home for the fortnight.
When Jane opened the penthouse door, I detected her look of surprise at the unlikely sibling-looking pair. And then a muted quizzical askewed glance at me that enquired, what-the-fuck? After a brief but illuminating introduction, Jane led our guests to their room. Our normal orientation process was that we'll invite the guests to the patio for an ice-breaking welcome drink and chat to establish the social baseline, show them around the penthouse, and then the near environs. Their room was furnished with a queen-sized bed. I would have to ask Chloe later if she would like any reconfiguration of the bedding arrangement. But, it would be a challenge to replace the queen-sized bed with two singles given the limited swing space.
Half an hour on, we were chilling at the patio. Cole and Chloe had changed into tropical casuals. A pleasant transformation. Chloe was in a pair of high-cut bikini shorts which accentuated and flattered her legs, and a breezy white top. My sis, herself in gym shorts, caught me checking out our comely guest, and gave a knowing teasing grin. And then her eyes roved on to ascertain Cole.
Chloe was a homemaker, but worked part time twice a week in a private school teaching Literature and Art. This explained her pΓ©tillant demeanor. She had three grown-up children.
Cole was the younger brother by five years. He was in the IT sector, as was his wife. Cole had two grown-up children. Cole carried a mien of quiet confidence. He was at ease to let his sister, the feisty one, do most of the social interaction, content to be bemused by her bubbling chirp, and the reactions it elicited.
Chloe waxed lyrical poetic on the penthouse's spectacular dizzy view of sea and hill, the 360 degree privacy, and the cosy homey ambience of the apartment. In her words, a cottage-in-the-sky. Jane told them about the cliff path that wound down to the secluded beach, and then, the coral island offshore. Chloe appeared to place great stock on privacy. She asked if the path was the only access to the beach. She seemed pleased when Jane confirmed so. And when I told her that the coral island had a secluded beach cove on the ocean-facing side, which offered another level of privacy, she beamed.
Which prompted me to ask whether the bedding arrangement was OK, or would they prefer two single-beds in view of the change in their holiday plan. Sister looked at brother in a kind of muted suppressed amusement. Chloe observed that two single-beds would be overly crammed for the room size. She said, through stiff upper lip, that Cole and her will survive the ordeal.
She giggled, "I will have to make Cole behave, he he!" And then turning to Cole, she demurred meekly: "You will, won't you?"
Uncharacteristically, Cole turned to his sister and growled in mock tigerish: "Grrrr...!"
Chloe whimpered: "Oh, dear!"
My sis shot me an exaggerated astounded look. Hmmm... this must be the high water mark of British reserve! And we haven't even dipped our toes in yet! Cole was nonplussed by this playful tittilating jesting. It appeared like this was the easy outrageous banter that he engaged routinely with his sister. In any case, he felt at ease letting his effervescent sister do most of the socializing, although he was by no means shy.
I spied Cole's eyes darting surreptitiously between his and my sis's legs, as if agonizing pleasantly over a perplexing pickle. His eyes lingered generously on his sis's legs without awkwardness, but engaged Jane's with courteous rationed interest. I drifted. I became engrossed in Cole's happy dilemma. My spell snapped when my sis recrossed her legs. I looked up and saw her arching what-the-fuck questioning look, which soon melted into a gratifying twinkling smile.
Later, Jane and I shared a quiet moment.
Jane: What was all that about?"
Me: More than meets the eye.
Jane (smiling): You mean, your eyes?
Me (conceding): You got me there! It's all Cole's fault. Self-evidently, he is a leg man. I saw him admiring his sister's legs unabashedly. And then stealing stealthy rationed glances at yours. I became hypnotically intrigued by his interest, and my eyes took on a roving commission of their own.
Jane: Hmmm... brothers checking out their sisters. Now, how did we get here? And since we are where we are, so, you like what you saw?