He remembered it like it was yesterday. Francesca in tears on his couch.
"Five years. We've been trying for five years, Gil, and still nothing. The doctors can't even tell us why." She'd sobbed. "We've even tried IVF, but it's so expensive..."
Gil and Francesca had grown up apart. The divorce had happened when they were pretty young. Francesca had gone to live with their mom. Gil had stayed with dad. So to say they were close, wasn't really accurate. They existed within each other's orbits. You could say that.
They'd grown up in proximity to each other, but always separated by the rift between their parents. It wasn't awful, but it was part of what defined them. So, when they'd grown up, she'd gone on to do the things she wanted to do, and he'd done the same.
Francesca was possessed of an elegant beauty. At five foot six, she had a slender build with curves in all the right places. Honey blond hair meticulously coiffed and an ass that made you want to just hold It in your hands and shed tears of joy.
It was tough to say with any clarity, how it had begun. Certainly from a desire to provide comfort. To help Francesca navigate this crisis. Maybe, to allow her to meet her biggest desire, motherhood. It had kinda snowballed from nothing, more quickly than they'd really been mindful of at the time. But somehow the crying had been answered by hugging, and the hugging had turned to kissing and the kissing got out of hand, and within two months Francesca was expecting.
He'd sired a baby by his sister. They were both simultaneously embarrassed and proud, but it wasn't something that they felt comfortable talking about. If John knew, he didn't let on. Maybe thinking he'd dodged a bullet and it might be better not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
The thing was... After Francesca was pregnant, they hadn't stopped. It was too hot. It was too good. And while they were both intimately aware of the repercussions of fucking one's sibling, all that superior morality seemed to incinerate in the fire of the passion that they built together... Every... fucking... time.
"Gil... cum in me!" she begged. It never got old and it always got answered in the affirmative.
Each time he felt his release within her, he knew how hopeless giving her up was. Some people are wired for each other and they both had all the boxes checked. He knew she felt the same. The way she'd show up almost frantic at his apartment. That look in her eyes like if she didn't get his cum she'd die. It was always so intense. And if she was to be believed Gil was easily twice John's size and girth down where it counted.
But everything has its tipping point, and when Francesca was expecting just a couple months after Jessie was born. It became an issue.
"You're fucking your Goddamned sister, for fuck's sake." John spat. "I mean... all the fucking time, Gil."
"John. Just stop." Gil tried.
"Stop? You should fucking stop! What did I ever do to you? It's my fucking wife, yes! But it's your own fucking sister. And now you've knocked her up again." John fumed.
"I know. I'm so sorry, man! We keep saying we're done with it... but..." Gil said apologetically.