I was born and raised in a small town in Iowa, far away from the ocean and very conservative. Two doors down lived Gordon and Jordan, fraternal twins two years older than me.
As we grew, we became close friends and developed a special bond. You might say we were like the three musketeers.
Gordon was the dreamer, the lover of the ocean and all things aquatic. He built little boats and sailed them on the pond in the city park. Gordon watched everything having to do with the sea on television. Almost every book he read had to do with the ocean. Most people we knew thought he'd grow up to be an oceanographer or something similar. Imagine the surprise when he announced he'd joined the Navy the day after graduating high school, and he was going to steer the ships.
Jordan, his sister, was a curious person. She was always asking questions, wondering why people did what they did. Jordan and I had an interesting relationship. I'd do things so that she'd ask me why then I'd explain I did them so that she'd ask. We teased each other frequently and hung out when Gordon would go off sailing his little boats or lose himself in a book.
The three of us were inseparable until their senior year in high school. That's when Gordon realized he and I were a perfect match. I was the anchor that held him to reality when his dreams and fantasies regarding the ocean became too much. We dated that entire year before he went off to sea. He pledged his love to me, and I to him.
During her senior year, I believe Jordan dated others out of spite. Gordon and I had broken our little triumvirate, so she found the only way to deal with it by dating guys we didn't like. She never dated a boy more than a few times, confessing they did nothing for her.
When he was young, Gordon was your typical skinny teen. As he matured, he worked out, played sports, and became a six foot two hundred and five-pound blonde god. Jordan and I played some sports and ran track, and she, too, grew into a stunning blonde beauty at five foot ten. As for me, I topped out at five foot four, and I have maintained myself physically because I teach kindergarteners, and they can be a pain to keep up with.
When they both left, Gordon to the Navy and Jordon to college, my life became routine. I babysat and corresponded with them both. I discovered I liked being around children and decided to become a teacher.
While in the Navy, Gordon would write me about all the exotic places he'd visit. He talked of the boredom of being at sea for thirty or forty days at a time. But Gordon still loved the ocean and being in the service. He'd encourage me when I was down and celebrate my little victories. When I'd write back, I'd do the same for him.
Jordon traveled, discovering her passion and focusing on being a psychologist. She also wrote, celebrating with me, comforting me when things looked bleak, and becoming my best friend all over again.
At twenty-two, I graduated from college with a degree in teaching. Gordon was there and asked me to marry him. I said yes, despite my parents' warnings about marrying a sailor. Jordan, who was off somewhere in Europe doing research, also sent her love and reminded me about Gordon and his passion, the sea.
After the wedding, I moved to San Diego; I got my teaching credential and began teaching kindergarten. I'd found my calling.
Gordon was on a shore duty rotation for the first two years of our marriage. He longed to be at sea again. He learned to sail and spent most of his time building little ship models, launching them at our local park's pond.
The ship/shore rotation for Gordon's rate ( his job ) was thirty-six, thirty-six. He'd spent thirty-six months on a ship and thirty-six months on shore duty. I loved having him around, but I could see his frustration being on land. Our relationship reminded me of that song from the seventies. Brandy, you're a fine girl; you'd be a good wife. Or something like that.
Just before he switched to a new ship, Jordon arrived. We hadn't seen her for six years. She had a master's in psychology and was going to pursue her doctorate in marital and family therapy at a university here in San Diego. Of course, Gordon suggested she move in with us, which would help me with his long absence and help with the household expenses. Jordan thought that was a great idea, as did I.
The three of us were back together, but only briefly. Gordon shipped out for a six or seven-month Westpac within three weeks of Jordan's arrival. Jordan had enough time to get to know her brother again as she settled into our guest bedroom. The relationship I had with Jordan as a young adult now changed. I quit teasing her and asking why all the time. She realized during her travels and growing more mature that Gordon and I were meant to be. However, we came to form a new and stronger bond with Gordon away.
It didn't become apparent until two weeks into Gordon's absence. I had a rough Friday at school, and I missed my husband and the infrequent intimacy we shared. Jordan made dinner, a nice grilled chicken with couscous and steamed broccoli. I told her about my day as we ate and split a bottle of wine.
Jordan vaguely told me about her research project and her frustrations. It had to do with a lesbian couple and their trials and tribulations. She wouldn't get specific, which would be unprofessional, but it sounded like most other couples and their differing sexual desires.
We finished dinner, did the dishes, then took the half-empty bottle to the living room and continued our conversation. We polished off that bottle, and since it was Friday night, we opened another. We both needed to vent some more. I went first, telling Jordan about a couple of little girls having problems at home, which got amplified at school. I'd talked with their parents, but nothing had changed. I was so frustrated, wishing I could do something more. Right then, I hated my job.
When I finished, Jordan politely declined to talk about her clients and the research she was doing. Wouldn't you know it? I asked why.
Jordan smiled, "You've always known how to push my buttons. I'm not sure you want to hear about lesbian sexual preferences. That's all."
I grinned, "I haven't pushed your buttons in a very long time, Jordan. Why wouldn't I want to hear? It would help if you vented too. It's only fair."
She smiled, "You sure?"
I laughed, "Vent away. If I get disgusted, I'll say something."
Jordan frowned, "Nothing is disgusting about consensual sex between adults. Well, maybe some things."
We both laughed. Luckily I wasn't sipping my wine when Jordan said it.
Jordan continued after regaining her composure, "This couple is giving me fits. One has been a lesbian since she could remember. Her partner is a recent convert, you might say. The problem is the long-time partner has lots of experience with certain toys. The new convert finds them disgusting because they remind her of past hetero relationships. She refuses to enjoy them with her partner. I need to find a way to ease her into accepting her partners' desires and find a compromise for them. Marriage is a give-and-take thing. Only this one, it's all giving and no taking."
I laughed, "That was pretty vague, which is fine. I'm clueless when it comes to toys. I'm guessing it's an object shaped like a penis?"
Jordan grinned, "You're so astute, sweetie. Yes. I know we've both had a little to drink, but would you mind if I asked you to give me your opinion on something?"
I thought, "You mean be a guinea pig?"
Jordan laughed, "You're cute like one, but no. It would be like being my lab assistant. I need an opinion, nothing more."
I agreed, and Jordan excused herself to head to her bedroom. It took a couple of minutes before she shouted to close my eyes and set my glass down. I did as instructed, wondering what she was going to do. All sorts of images flowed through my mind. None were close to what I saw when she returned and told me to open my eyes.
Before she said I could open my eyes, Jordan reminded me this was not to be discussed outside our home. It could get her in a lot of trouble and ruin her career. I agreed, so she told me to open my eyes.
My jaw dropped as Jordan stood there, barely a foot in front of me. She was nude in five-inch heels. Her full bare breasts had nipple piercings and looked amazing. Jordan also had her belly button pierced with a little dangling piece of jewelry. I could see her abs, and they were well-defined. The calves of her long legs were taut, accentuated by her heels. A large plastic or some other material fake male penis hung from her crotch. It was kept in place by a leather harness. Her long blonde hair swished against her back as she showed it off.
I shivered, feeling the urge to grab her and lick those abs. Then I shook my head, wondering where that thought came from. She's my sister-in-law, and I'm straight!
