My Brother's Caul

Almost always, it's exceedingly arousing when a pair of lips is locked around my nipple. Maybe this is true for everyone, I don't know. All I know is that my nipples very much like attention from a mouth, and it doesn't much matter whose. If the purpose of foreplay is to climb the mountain of arousal all the way to the summit, the moment when lips encounter my breast is my most favorite plateau on the way up.

Right now, a pair of lips is latched on to my left nipple, so you might think I'm on my favorite erotic plateau. You would be wrong. Today, the lips belong to my daughter, Olivia, who's just a week past seven months old. Since she was born, she's transformed the way I feel about lips on my nipples. Now, it feels quite utilitarian. Transactional. You need a snack, little girl? No prob. Eat up.

Don't get me wrong, I've grown to like the whole sensation of breastfeeding. I like knowing that this is the way kids have eaten for millennia and will forever more. And, usually, I like feeling Olivia's suction. Even though she's so little, she has this instinct to suck at the just the right time and place. If I'm being completely honest, there are times when something of a plateau occurs.

After Olivia's snack this morning, I refasten the flap of my nursing bra, then rearrange my t-shirt. I let the hem fall loosely over my shorts, which are plain gray cotton with an elastic waistband. The outfit scores a zero for fashion but a ten for ease of wearing, ease of feeding, and, critically, ease of washing.

My cousin Lily gently picks Olivia up from my lap and holds her in the classic burp pose, a cloth already carefully positioned over her shoulder. The two of them pace back and forth across the room. Another thing that's been transformed in the past seven months is my appreciation for having someone else get her settled for a nap. I love Olivia dearly, but I never imagined how much work she'd be. I can't remember the last time I slept through a night uninterrupted.

"Aren't you the cutest?" Lily coos to Olivia.

Olivia responds with a satisfied gurgle.

I watch my daughter intently. The perspective of her in someone else's arms isn't one I see all that often. "No argument here," I say.

Lily and I are almost exactly the same age: she was born 19 days before me, more than 24 years ago. We grew up in the same neighborhood and saw each other almost every day. People have always accused us of being sisters, and we do have the same general size, shape, and sandy blond hair. While we've looked remarkably similar at certain ages, these accusations of sisterhood don't happen much anymore since one of us got pregnant.

Lily says, "I don't know how you do it, Emma. I don't think I could ever raise a kid by myself."

"I didn't think I could either. But you just do what you have to."

Lily's steps are in sync with her hand patting Olivia's back. They walk a deliberate route through my little condo: down the galley of the kitchen, a U-turn, back through the living room and into the bedroom, another U-turn, and back to the living room before starting again. She speaks to Olivia quietly and methodically, a voice whose sole purpose is not to communicate but just to soothe. "Did you have a good snack?" "How about a burp?" "Are you getting sleepy?"

After about three laps, there's a knock at the door. I haul myself off the couch and look through the peephole. "It's my brother," I say to Lily before twisting the deadbolt and opening the door.

"Hey, Ethan," I say, as he saunters in. Like me, he's wearing an old t-shirt, but his is paired with jeans. He's carrying a shoe box.

"Hey." Then, noticing our cousin, he says, "Oh, hi, Lily. I didn't know you'd be here."

"Hi Ethan," she says. "I just came by for some quality time with our angel."

"Hi, Olivia." To me he says, "So I just have some caulking to do. Don't mind me."

My condo is tiny and old, which is the only way I can afford it. There are some gaps between the walls and the moldings, and Ethan volunteered to seal them up. Another thing I never turn down anymore is free manual labor.

Ethan sets the box on the card table that serves as the centerpiece of my dining room. He unpacks a few tools, along with a caulking gun, two tubes of caulk, and some rags.

"I think this color white will match your walls well enough," he says. Then after a pause when I don't respond, he continues, "Translation: I'm not painting the whole place."

I smile and sit back down on the couch. "No prob. Thanks for coming over."

Ethan is just 21, but apparently he inherited the handyman gene from our dad. This gene skipped me over completely. I watch as he snips off the tip of a tube of caulk and loads it into the gun, squeezing the trigger just so. "I'll start in the kitchen and just work my way around the place."

"Sounds good," I say. "Let me know if you need something."

When I turn away from Ethan, I find Lily settling Olivia in her crib in the bedroom. As I park myself back on the couch, Lily slowly tiptoes out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her as silently as she possibly can. Only after the door is completely closed does Lily turn back toward me and say, in a deliberately quiet voice, "All burped and sleepy."

"Thanks, but you don't have to be so quiet. Once she's out, a tornado wouldn't wake her up."

Lily sits next to me on the couch and still speaks more quietly than usual. "I know, you've said that before, but I don't want to take any chances. I don't want to be the one responsible for

naptus interruptus

."

"No worries either way," I say. "You have this down to a science."

"Not quite," she says. "You have a thousand things to keep track of for every one I'm doing. Maybe a million."

"Just one thing at a time, Lil. I have to remind myself that people have been raising kids for as long as there have been people, so it must not be impossible."

"Maybe not impossible. But not just any old screwball can do it." When Lily says this, she glances over at Ethan, probably without thinking about it.

By coincidence, at the same moment, Ethan glances back at Lily and the two make eye contact. He says, "Really? You look at me to get inspiration for 'any old screwball'?" All three of us share a fast chuckle.

I say, "Aw, Ethan, she didn't mean it. You're not old."

We all chuckle a bit again before Ethan holds up the caulking gun and defends himself. "Be careful, you two. I have a loaded weapon here, and I'm not afraid to use it."

Lily does an impression of someone duly threatened. If she wasn't betrayed by her radiant smile, I'd think she was truly cowering in fear. But I say, "Yeah, I'm not too worried about your ammo."

"Caulk can be brutal," he says.

"Aw, come on," says Lily, "When was your caulk ever brutal?"

Ethan turns to me and grins mischievously, but his words are for Lily. "Oh, wouldn't you like to know? Plenty of times."

"Yeah, right," she says.

"One of these days I'll have to show you my ferocious caulk. You'll be in shock and awe."

"Well, for my sake, I hope the caulk you're using today is the peaceful kind."

Ethan points the gun at the ceiling and barely squeezes the trigger, causing a tiny bit of white to ooze out. "For now," he says. "But that can change in a heartbeat."

Lily and I both laugh, and while Ethan tries to keep a straight face, he's laughing with us in a matter of seconds. Soon enough he turns away from us and aims his weapon at the baseboard, back to work, not letting the bead of caulk go to waste.

Once the levity tapers off, Lily says to me, "Changing the subject. I never thought I would say this, but motherhood suits you. You look great."

"Thanks, but don't look too close. I still weigh about 10 pounds more than before she was born."

"Some people might say you look better with those extra pounds than without."

"That's nice of you to say, even if it isn't true."

Lily leans close to me and speaks quietly again. I get the impression the reason for her hushed voice this time isn't Olivia, but Ethan. "Some of those extra pounds put themselves in appealing places. You know?"

I smile and whisper back, "You're talking about these, right?" As I speak I put one hand under each breast and give them a couple of hefts up and down.

"As a matter of fact!" says Lily.

"Yeah, a pregnancy does have a way of redistributing the curves," I say.

"Do you remember when we were 11, and we kept hoping for more curves up there? Measuring ourselves just about every day?"

"Of course, how could I forget?"

She says, "You and I were always about the same size, more or less, but not anymore."

"I think I know a way you could pick up one or two cup sizes."

Lily laughs and tosses her hair over her shoulder. "Nah, I'm not quite ready for that, darlin'." Her laugh is infectious, and she turns my smile into a giggle too.

She looks over at Ethan, who's busy with his project, seemingly unconcerned. No eye contact this time. This conversation of ours started out as a whisper, but we're speaking pretty normally now, certainly loud enough that he can hear every word. Lily continues, "Olivia is a sound sleeper, right?"

"Like a rock."

"Then can we go in your bedroom for a minute?"

"Sure," I say. We both get up from the couch and make our way to the bedroom door. Along the way I say to Ethan, "Just girl talk. Be right back!"

He says, "Have fun. Mind if I play some tunes on my phone?"

"No, go ahead. Whatever inspires your caulk."

I watch him put down the caulking gun and fish his phone out of his pocket. By the time the two of us get in the bedroom and close the door behind us, I can pretty clearly hear Ava Max bolting through the tinny speaker on Ethan's phone.

We sit next to each other on the opposite side of the bed from Olivia's crib. Whatever it is she wants to talk about outside Ethan's earshot, she has a strange look on her face.

She says, "I'm just gonna come out with it. No dillydallying. Can I see your boobs?"

This I'm not expecting. "Oh. Right now? I mean-"

"We got to know each other's boobs so well when we were younger, and I remember yours being, you know, petite, almost the same as mine." A pause. Maybe I could say something, but I don't, and she goes on. "Now that they're in another league, I want to see them again, see how they've changed." She bites her bottom lip and looks at me with hope in her eyes.

"How could I say no to my best bud?" I pull my shirt off, revealing my matronly nursing bra in all its glory.

"That is a serious bra," she says, ogling. I've never exactly hidden my bra from her while I nurse, but now I guess she feels like she has my permission to get an eyeful. "A hundred percent white, not a hint of anything lacy or revealing. Even the straps are twice as wide as the sexy bras we used to wear."

"And you

still

wear," I correct her.

She presses on. "But no matter how sexy my bras are, I don't have cleavage like that." She points to the crease between my breasts that starts an inch or two south of my clavicle, then curves its way along the swell at the center of my chest before disappearing between the cups of my bra.

I smile as I run my hands along the white fabric. "Yeah, a little cleavage does wonders for almost any bra."

I unfasten the nursing flap from one side of my bra but hold it in place, keeping myself fully concealed. I say, "Aren't nursing bras the most amazing invention? You can leave it on but pull down the flap on one side or the other. Perfect for a light meal."

I unfasten the flap on the other side, still keeping myself covered, then look at Lily. Her eyes are glued to my chest, and her face takes on a delightfully pink hue. I say, "The nursing bra is as clever an invention for women as the zipper fly is for guys. The thing is, a guy can use his fly for decades, but I can only use this clever nursing bra for a year or so."

"Yeah," she says, but it doesn't seem like she's paying much attention to what I'm saying.

I use the fingers of my right hand to push down the little flap over my left breast, but I leave my hand there so it covers my nipple. I hold that pose for a few seconds before giving Lily what she wants, taking my hand away and giving her a clear view of my left nipple.

"My god," she says, "your nipple is so big. So much bigger than it ever was before. It's gorgeous."

She lifts her hand out of her lap and moves it toward me, then perhaps realizes she'd better ask first. "Um, do you mind if I touch it for a second?"

"Just like old times?" I ask.

"Not

just

like," she says. "A little like." In any case, this is all the consent she needs, and I feel the fingers of her right hand gently touch the nipple, circling around it with the faintest possible pressure.

"Do you want me to take this off all the way?"

"Uh-huh," she said. "Do you mind?"

"Nah." I reach behind my back and unfasten the bra, then hold my arms together as it slides away from my body, leaving me fully topless. A disadvantage of extra heft is that gravity tugs at my breasts more than it used to, but I still like their shape even when unsupported.

Lily uses both hands now, holding one breast in each. "You look incredible, Emma. I am so jealous. I've always wanted to look like this. I mean, it's not like I never told you before how I wish I looked." She massages my nipples but also lets her palms graze my skin, feeling the weight of my breasts in each hand. Her touch is still unbelievably light.

I put my elbows behind me on the bed for support, then lean back slightly, showing myself off. "You can be a little more firm if you want."

She looks in my eyes and gives me a sultry smile. "You're not too sore or anything?"

"Nope, not a bit."

She circles her index fingers around my areolas, then widens her touch in steadily increasing circles until she's circling my entire breasts. The sensation is becoming more and more appealing, and it reminds me how long it's been since I've felt it.

There's a tiny stutter in Olivia's regular breathing rhythm, and instinctively I tear myself away from Lily's fingers, get up, and walk over to the crib to check on her. Olivia is just as perfect as ever, her breathing settling back to normal.

The disruption breaks the spell Lily was under. "You can get dressed again, Emma. I shouldn't perv out on you any more."

I say, "It's OK, I really don't mind," but all the same I grab my bra and refasten it around me. "I just had to check on the girl."

"She must have been dreaming about something," says Lily.

"Not much to dream about yet at this age."

"Actually, I think what she's dreaming about is the same thing I'll be dreaming about tonight." We both laugh a bit at that, then I slip my shirt back on. Lily leads the way back out the bedroom door, which I close softly behind us.

Ethan's phone is still blasting music on the other side of the condo, but Ethan himself is crouched right next to the bedroom door, caulking the baseboards. "Hi, bro. We're back."

"Hey," he says.

He doesn't give any indication that he's been privy to our activities, but the bedroom isn't very well soundproofed, especially for someone right there, so close to the door.

Lily doesn't seem the least bit concerned about Ethan. She says, "Actually, I should get going, Emma. I need to shop for groceries today and try to get ten other things done. After I go Ethan can work in peace. No more screwball remarks."

"Well, thanks for coming over, Lil. It's always great to see you."

"It's always great to see you too," she says. With a wink, she adds, "especially today."

We have our normal parting hug, then Lily grabs her phone and keys. "Bye, Ethan!"

Looking up from the baseboard, he says, "See you, Lily."

She lets herself out, and I amble back to the couch and sit down. I have to admit that I really needed someone else's fingers on my nipples, even if it was just Lily's.

No sooner do I sit down than Ethan puts down the caulking gun and kills the music on his phone. Then he stands right in front of me, facing me, with his feet planted two feet apart and his knees nearly touching mine. "Feel what you did to me," he says.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, sis. Feel me."

I do know.

I reach my hand out toward his crotch, fingering the faded denim. His shaft sits just under the fabric, angled just about horizontal, solid and thick.

"Mmm," he says, almost immediately after my fingers make contact. "So I never figured Lily for a breast woman."

"Oh. You heard, I guess."

"Every. Single. Word," he says. "Like, for instance, 'Do you want me to take this off all the way?'"

I grimace. "Did I say that?"

"Verbatim."

I continue to massage the bulge in the front of his pants, letting my fingers caress its full length first in one direction and then the other.

"See, Lily and I have this thing. We've had it a long time. I know it's weird, but sometimes we ... kind of ... get naked together."

"Jesus. How am I just now finding out about this?"

I unbutton and unzip his jeans, pulling them down just enough so I can see the bulge of his shaft covered by his thin cotton boxers. I run my fingers across him again, and he hums his approval once more. "We don't exactly advertise."

"God, that feels so good, Emma," he says. He closes his eyes and relishes in the sensation my fingers are giving him. Without opening his eyes, he says, "So what kinds of things do you do, you know, when you're naked together?"

"Oh, just things."

"What kind of things?"

"A lot of kinds."

"Jesus. So do you like it when she touches your nips?"

"You know how much my nipples love attention."

Even as I speak, he's pulling up the hem of my shirt. "Yeah, I do." Without really thinking about it, I lift my arms above my head, and he takes this as his signal to pull my shirt all the way off. He reaches behind me and unfastens my bra, taking it off again for the second time in a few minutes.

He makes himself quite at home with his hands on my breasts. His touch is firmer than Lily's, but firmer is exactly what I want right now. He cups one hand over each breast and arranges each nipple in the crux of his first two fingers, then slowly squeezes his fingers together, massaging my nipples with every movement. The feeling is divine.

"You know how much I love your cock, Ethan."

"And you know just what it likes," he says.

I pull down the waistband of his boxers and watch the tip of his cock spring free. As I encircle the mushroom head in my fingers, I say, "Yeah, I know it likes this."

"God yes, if only you would just keep your hand right there forever, I would never leave."

He takes his hands away from my chest just long enough to push his jeans and boxers down over his hips in one smooth motion, then reaches down and pulls them off his legs one by one, dumping them in a pile on the floor. I watch his shaft bob and sway with every movement of his body. In another second he peels off his shirt, and when he rejoins me on the couch he's buck naked.

I put one hand back around his shaft, giving it a few light strokes, and put the other hand under his balls, skritching them the way I know he likes.

Meanwhile he lowers his head to my chest, and as I feel the warmth of his cheek I know exactly what's coming next: his tongue laps out and flicks my right nipple, lightly but with a highly arousing up-and-down motion. He uses his thumb to flick my other nipple at the same time, in the exact same rhythm.

My voice is shaky, but still I manage to say, "If you would only keep your tongue there forever, I would never leave."

"Don't tempt me," he says. As he speaks, I feel his hot breath washing over my breast before his tongue laps out and finds the nipple again.

I feel a drop of silky smooth liquid ooze from the tip of his stiff cock. For some reason precum is hugely arousing to me-it's like liquid evidence of how turned on he is. I can feel myself oozing my own liquid in response, both of us making our own lube for what we know will be happening in just a few minutes.