08

/* Thanks to one and all who have read, liked, and ranked this story series. I really am grateful to all of you for your encouragement and support. To all new readers I would request you to start your read with the Chapters 1&2 of this series.

I would like to warn my readers that I have creatively indulged in some male-bashing in this part, but that is only a story setup. I personally have no such feelings.

Would welcome all constructive feedback from the readers for this story, which is a work of fiction. All rights reserved */

Chapter 7

The realization!

After viewing my kissing episode as posted on online media, I stomped off to bed with mixed emotions.

On the one hand, it meant that now I would be subject to ridicule and snide remarks wherever I went, with me becoming notorious as the kissing sister!

On the other hand, it clarified that he had feelings for me. Time would tell how deep or brotherly those feelings were, but for now, I was okay with having them acknowledged by him, at least.

Lying alone in bed, my brain was free to unleash the memory of the kiss in full force.

It was like my memory was a ghost that was floating around in Argyll Street and like a sinuous vapory snake it was circling the figure of us kissing in the street.

Subconsciously all those brief images and feelings and touches that hadn't registered with me at the moment of the kiss now came crashing down on me in overwhelming waves.

I hadn't known when his left hand had left my face and had grabbed me by the base of my neck and gently but firmly pulled my head back. It was also this hand that had messed up my hair in a truly 'just fucked' way.

Also, I had not known that his right hand had left my face and had snuck inside my shirt and caressed my back and waist in both a gentle as well as a non-brotherly fashion. (Luckily my back was turned away from Five Guys and therefore this detail was not caught in the video)

I also saw through my ghostly memories that with my left hand circling his neck, my left forearm had nearly crushed him down and my ghost memory actually saw him wince in pain with the force of my deathly grip. This death grip had left a purple bruise on his neck, very much like a hickey! Yikes! (I would have to actually apologize to him for that)

Trying to feel my left hand now, I realised that my left hand was in my knickers and my denims were uncomfortable and restrictive for the activities which my left hand was planning...no.... needed to do.

So, I just about tore off my denims and yanked off my still slightly damp knickers and thanked myself whole-heartedly that I had doused myself liberally with perfume when I was in the Ladies before my interview with the Ambassador, or else she was sure to have detected my feminine odour and would have drawn a wholly wrong conclusion (of course, it would be wrong because we hadn't actually done the dirty, had we?)

I lay down in bed on my belly with my left arm under me and my left-hand fingers patting my fanny.

In my ghostly memory, I saw myself curling my mouth and teeth around his upper lip and I saw myself liberally and ravishingly chew his lips.

I started circling my fanny with my fingers and pressing on the folds of my labia.

In my memory my right hand grabbed his jacket; I saw I had ruined his jacket creases, the jacket which he later covered me up with; the same one I carried home with me along with the broach given by the Ambassador. And after crimping his dinner jacket my right hand had proceeded to grab and fondle his ass.

I started rubbing my clit intensely and proceeded with fingering my fanny with my index and middle fingers.

A strong pungent feminine odour filled the air both in my memory and in the room now

My breathing became laboured and a slight sheen of sweat broke out on my forehead.

But this, on my belly position, was not helping me get the full depth and penetration.

So, I flipped myself on my back, unhooked and tore out my bra and got out my favourite Lelo Sila Cruise clit massager from the sideboard

This was the one I called my Charlie, and this one had never disappointed me.

Going back to my ghost memories, I saw my right leg trying to encircle his left leg.

Looking at this from the voyeuristic point of view from inside Five Guys, I was embarrassed to visualize how it would have looked.

It would have looked exactly like a floozie trying to provide the money's worth to her punter.

My Charlie was in continuous operation mode. The waves of passion rolling along my skin were now penetrating my whole body and into my bones and I was undulating with these waves.

My ghost memory then saw him take his left hand away from my tousled hair, plant them on the back of my thighs and drag my encircling legs back into position in front of me.

And then holding me by my thighs, I saw him gently undulate and roll his pelvis against mine.

"Uhhh...hahhh...ummm...uhhh" and more of these high-intensity meowing sounds started bouncing around the walls inside my room.

With my right hand, I held my Charlie tight against my clit while with my left I was pinching my nipples like crazy till they hurt.

I seriously should have started some loud music to drown out the sounds, but now I was too far gone to stop what I was doing.

My ghost memory had saved the best memory for the last.

I noticed myself rubbing. Rubbing myself against his pelvis.

His hands on my thighs and ass tried to hold me steady, but I was having none of it.

I was vociferously pricking his mouth with my tongue like a woodpecker drilling holes and all the while my pelvis was rubbing insistently against him.

And then I saw myself pressing and rubbing my titties against his chest. That must have been why he covered me up with his jacket later.

"Uhhhhrrrrrmmmm!"

I erupted.

Explosively.

Toe-crunchingly.

Eyes almost rolled upwards inside the sockets.

And I squirted.... profusely.

The consistent sucking action of My Charlie had hit the correct note and now I was arched; arched with my head and my feet on the bed while my whole torso was suspended in the air like a patient with tetanus infection in the painful throes of muscular contraction.

I slumped on the bed, totally exhausted.......this had never happened before

I was drenched in sweat, piss all over me and the bed but in supreme bliss.

All the muscles in my body were sore and tired, but I couldn't care less.

Because my ghost serpentine memory, before signing off had imparted the last bit of treasure.

At the moment when our lips were coming unstuck and we both were trying to return to the land of the living by trying to gulp in as much air and oxygen as possible, I remembered him growling in soft tones, three words in my ears while he held me to himself thus preventing me from collapsing.

Three small words that summed up all that I had wanted to say to him and all my feelings for him.

So, lying sweaty and cum-drenched in bed, with pee all around me and naked as a jaybird I picked up my phone and texted those three words to his number.

Three simple words which encapsulated all that I felt for him

'You are mine'

And then I slept off.

The following day was an eventful one.

Getting up the next morning was a laborious and drawn-out affair.

My limbs were sore, my eyes refusing to open and my mind trying to desperately hang on to the last dregs of my dream.

My dreams of him. Of possessing him. Of making him mine.

I saw that it was still dark, meaning I had woken up quite early.

After throwing away the soiled bedsheets and replacing them with fresh ones, I had a satisfying bath and with my hair wrapped up in a towel and wearing my holey sweatshirt, I went down to find something to eat.

The others slowly awoke as I was pottering around in the kitchen, and they immediately caught onto my carefree and excited mood.

"You had a satisfying night, I see!" was Brady's indirect way of alluding to my previous night's activities.

I wasn't going to mind him today. I was in a cheerful mood and any direct or indirect innuendoes wouldn't be able to disrupt my cheerful spirit.

Taking the bull by the horns, I shot back at him "Yes, very satisfying. Thank you!"

"So, what have you decided?" was Helen's way of directly coming to the point.

I was ready for this too and responded

"I want him as my brother and also want him as my lover!"

Last night and this morning, I had laboured over this quite a bit.

I was truthful when I said that he was more permanent than a boyfriend. Because my experiences with boyfriends had been few and far between.

Because half of the men that I encountered couldn't hold a decent conversation and the other half couldn't hold onto their dicks.

And this brother of mine ticked all the boxes in this regard.

It was also true that my feelings for him ran quite deep.

I had to reluctantly confess to myself that I was insanely jealous and unnaturally possessive of him. And last night's kiss had unleashed a storm of pent-up passion and longing that I myself didn't know was buried inside me. It was just impossible for me to deny them now.

Hence, I said what I said.

"This is one greedy slapper!" was Helen's judgement. But she delivered it with a wide smile and mischief in her eyes and so I didn't take offence.

"Ok! You girls enjoy your giggling confidences while I must rush to London with my Dean!" saying this Brady went into his room to get ready for his day.

Afreen was eyeing me speculatively.

"Yes? You have something to add?" I was feeling charitable today. I knew my declaration must have caused some discomfort and hence wanted Afreen to talk aloud her queries.

"Nothing! At least this way we get to see the dish more often" was her retort.

As Brady had gone to London, the three of us piled into Afreen's X5 Beemer.

Even today I noticed the same woman and the portly man sitting in the same location.

And sitting in the backseat of Afreen's Beemer, as it sped away to the Uni, I placed the call to my brother.

Knowing that it would go to voicemail I had prepared my message beforehand, and I started recording as soon as the call connected.

"Listen, you hunk! You are not getting away with just one kiss! I want the full meal! By now all the staff at my Uni and maybe the whole of the country have seen our last evening's escapade on social media. Maybe the Ambassador has too. So, you better start calling me back or else you will start getting X-rated sleazy and salacious messages here in your voicemail which will make your social media handler blush! So, call me back! Chop chop!"

I could see that both Helen and Afreen were looking back at me with eyebrows raised up their hair, eyes almost popping out of their sockets and jaws dropping to the floor.

"Look ahead and drive!" was my only comment and then I plugged in my earphones to listen to my favourite station.

I had decided that I wouldn't just be a passive bystander in this interaction between me and my brother anymore.

I wanted... needed...more frequent interaction and a deeper bond with him.

The very fact that I had accepted this relationship between him and me as that of siblings showed that what I wanted was a claim to him.

A claim that would be permanent and not dependent on breakups or fights.

A claim on a relationship that is predetermined and thus unable to be broken.

I had realised I wanted him in my life for good.

This realization had come slowly but surely, over the past few weeks since I met him.

As Helen had said I was enamoured, but then so be it.

He was mine and would remain mine.

While I was thinking of all this and debating with myself, we had almost reached the Uni gates, and I saw a couple of camera vans with reporters strolling around the entrance.

I immediately shouted to Afreen

"Go through to the west side underground entrance! Don't stop here! I think the camera crew is for me"

While Afreen took heed immediately and diverted her route, the enormity of last evening's activities finally came crashing down on me.

All my euphoria vanished immediately leaving in its place worry, anxiety and trepidation of the harsh treatment that I was sure to receive, especially from the Arse-bitch

I was now a notorious public target. As already seen by the camera crew at the Uni gates, my days of privacy were over. I would be followed everywhere, at least in the immediate future.

And this was just the beginning of my troubles.

Chapter 8

A New Entrant

We were early and didn't meet many people in the lift going up from the car park.

But once we reached the Atrium, it was a different story. Walking across the Atrium felt like I was an animal in a circus with the spotlight shining on me.

Everyone stared

I had no choice but to hitch up my shoulders, tighten my grip on my backpack and look defiantly at all those who were staring. I did this the whole time while walking down the Atrium towards the axial corridors to catch the next lift to my common rooms.

I even tried to say hello to a couple of known acquaintances, but nobody responded. They just kept staring.

Disgorging myself from the lift onto the second floor, a short walk along the corridor brought me to my common room where I came face-to-face with my next bombshell.

I found my mother sitting there in one of the chairs.

Lady Katherine Allison Fitzwilliam (yup, that was mom's full name) had always been meticulous and consistent in pointing out that hers was an ancestry that could be traced back to Edward the Black Prince, the first Duke of Cornwall.

But she had got rid of the Katherine name at quite a young age and everybody called her Karri, a name she liked and responded to.

She was five feet six, with a slender physique maintained with diet and Pilates. She had had quite a few surgeries and procedures done on her face and body which kept her provocative at her age. She knew how to attract and keep the attention of the men, those men that she decided were worthy of her attention.

And she was my nemesis.

While other girls of British nobility are taught at a young age the nuances of how to propagate and maintain the class difference with the others who were less fortunate ( the way my step-sisters would have been coached in their respective households); In my case, I was introduced to the world of martial arts, survival training and other military-style pursuits.

While pre-pubescent girls of my age and background were learning the art of using their tongues as rapiers dipped in honey, I was learning the various katas of the Shotokan house of karate and kung-fu.

And when teenage girls were discovering boys and navigating ways and means of either acquiring or politely discarding them, I was wrestling with those boys and trying to beat them in target practice.

So, when I mentioned before that my experiences with the opposite sex were few and far between; that was because of my upbringing.

I put an end to this enforced servitude of my mother's dictates in my final public school years when I realised that this testosterone and ego-driven male component of the species will always remain a daft prick; who on his own will never be self-motivated, will never have any goal or mission in life but who will constantly require external validation and regular ego-boost

I also realised that I was much better mentally and physically than these wankers of the species who were primarily ejaculation driven.

It was then that I decided to stop kowtowing to my mother's slave-rule and study medicine as my emancipation, where I naively assumed that I would be judged on my skills in saving human lives and not on my gender traits.

My past nine years of medical school and CMT had cured me of my naivete, but I did not regret my decision to study medicine. That decision had made me capable of standing on my feet and facing my nemesis, who was there before me right now.

Seeing her standing there in her half-sleeved white cashmere top with a matching Prada purse and black pants brought on my instant anger.

And her first words added fuel to my already burning anger

"You have become quite famous, I see!"

She waited for me to reply so that we could start the fight, but I refused to give her an opening.

I just ground my teeth and kept silent.

"Social media is a great thing you know. Lots of friends and connections" was her next stab at baiting me.

I balled my fists so hard that my nails hurt my palms, but still, I kept quiet.

I could see that she was fast losing patience.

"If you wanted to catch up with him, you just could have called me. I would have set up a discreet meet" She had had a lifetime of experience in driving the sword into you, the sword dipped in honey.

"All of us can't directly do a leg-over(screw). Some of us do take it slow" I knew that by responding to her I was giving her what she wanted, but there were limits to how much my teeth could be ground, and my fingers be balled in fists.

"And snogging for the cameras, is your definition of slow, is it?"

I could sense that this slow build-up was not to her taste, and she wanted a rapid-fire shootout. So I brought this verbal dance to a close

"I want him as my brother and also as my lover" Bet she never imagined me confessing that.

Her face was aghast. "You shagged him?"

I looked directly into her eyes and shook my head no.

"You love him! " Hers was more a statement than a question.

Her voice was unexpectedly gentle. Her eyes had a strange ancient sadness in them and her lips quivered as she spoke. I don't remember seeing her so open and so vulnerable ever before.

Without waiting for a reply (as she could read it on my face), she slowly walked towards me and surprisingly, hugged me.

It was an almost bone-crushing hug, and I could feel her muscles in that hug.

This hug, I think, was her first in my adult life.

And I almost felt a soft kiss on the side of my neck, on top of my trapezius muscles where her head rested during the hug.

Almost.

I stood rooted on the spot in shock.

"Don't repeat my mistakes, Meeghan. I don't want you to go down the same hellish path that I did"

My mother.... giving.... motherly advice! Wonders shall never cease. These are the times when you start believing in miracles.

It was the clacking of her Louboutin patent pumps that broke through my mental freeze.

I turned to see her open the door of the common room and present concluding arguments.

"I guess there is no need for that hand-to-hand now..... Take care"

And she was gone.

Plonking myself down on my seat, I took stock of the events today. The morning had taken me through a roller-coaster emotional ride.

I had accepted to myself and my gang that I wanted him, in my life. This acceptance and realization were quite a shock.

My actions last night made me some sort of internet celebrity, I guess. So now I would have to be careful what I did or how I presented myself, at least in the short run. This was a bummer.

And finally, my mom had accepted my relationship with Johan, because that's what her words and actions implied; to me at least.

While I was lost in these thoughts and recollections, the desk phone trilled, and the caller ID told me it was the Arse-bitch.

"Nice to know that you are here with us" was the Arse-bitch's opening statement.

"Could I trouble you to join us in my chambers for a consult?" was her way of ordering me to meet her.

I first proceeded to the loo, patted my hair into place, straightened my apron and touched-up my face.

Carrying my Steth in my hand I slowly proceeded to her chambers, mentally calculating all the combinations of the Arse-bitch's questions and my responses to them.

Reaching her chambers I saw the two Medical Directors who headed the Ethics and the Grievances committees i.e. Dr. Rumsfeld and Dr. Kleiner, sitting alongside the Arse-bitch.