Laughter emanated from the back porch as dad hit the punchline to his "intellectually bitch slapping the idiot at work" story. Genuine laughter too, not polite dad joke laughter. He always had a gift for a humorous delivery, a gift that his oldest son, Aaron, was deprived of and his younger son, Ethan, got in spades. Some say I caught the gene too, but I think being so much younger than my half brothers played to my advantage - no one expects to get many laughs from the little sister.
"Another one?" My dad offered to the group. He took the drink orders and went inside. My mother, Aaron, Ethan, their wives and I were enjoying the warm spring evening at this family get together to say goodbye to my childhood home. I had just graduated from college, and our empty-nesters were ready to downsize. I call it MY childhood home because my brothers never really lived with me while I was growing up.
My dad's first marriage ended horribly and after extensive, expensive, and exhausting child custody battles, their mother had full custody with optional visitation. I barely got to see them as time went on, and they got to be teenagers uninterested in family time. Occasionally they would stop by to catch up every few months and hit some holidays, but I never really lived with them.
"Here ya go baby." The requested beer from my father appeared in front of me and i took it with a smile. We were a family that drank together. None of us would be considered alcoholics, but we enjoyed ourselves and very few gatherings did not include alcohol. We were a few more beers deep when my mother and brothers' wives retreated to the kitchen to make drunk snacks for everyone. Knowing my father and brothers dont get too much bonding time, I stepped off the porch, away from the firelight and made my way to the rope hammock just beyond our giant oak tree. I was admiring the stars and getting nostalgic over our home when I heard heavy footfalls approaching.
"Ready for a refill J?" I recognized Ethan's smooth low voice and the pet name, he was the only one in the family that called me J.
"Always" I responded as I reached out for the offered drink.
"Got room on there for one more?"
"Of course!" After 2 minutes of Three Stooges-like comedy attempting to add another person to a hammock while holding open containers, we managed to both lay safely atop the webbed ropes. However, it is a hammock, so we were forced to the middle and unusually close to one another. We're affectionate, dont get me wrong, and were closer than Aaron and I, but I'd never been pressed up against my brother's body with our limbs tangled together. And it was.. Nice. We lay drinking and talking softly, some reminiscing about the house, when we came to a soft comfortable silence where we drunkenly sunk into each other.
I felt a slight nudge of his cheek against my forehead and thought I must be confused. It was the nudge of a guy saying "tilt your head up so i can kiss you". I'd felt it before, I knew that nudge, but it couldn't possibly be. There it was again, more insistent this time. My stomach exploded into a thousand tingling pieces, my heart started to pound, and instinctively I tilted my head up.
His lips touched mine so lightly but present. His hand moved from his chest to my neck to cradle my head and I opened my mouth. It was the perfect kiss. Not only did my whole body tingle from the excitement of what was happening but the way we kissed... it was like we kissed the same. No fighting of lips or bumping of teeth, no struggle for tongue dominance, or one person ending one kiss before the other was ready, no crazy intensity from one and mild interest from the other like so many others I'd had before. It was like the way we kissed was imprinted on our genes, and we were making out with mirror images of ourselves. We tasted each other and took lips between teeth with equal enthusiasm. His hand held my nape hair with a firmness that turned me on. Both of our hands roamed slightly, and he pulled back to look at me as he grabbed my ass.
"You're so sexy" he growled in my ear. "I couldn't believe how much you'd grown up when I saw you at Amy's wedding. I've wanted to do that ever since".
I was stunned speechless. Not only had I just had the hottest make out of my life with my brother, but he thought I was sexy, and had thought it before tonight.
It wasn't some drunk mistake, he actually wanted me. Did I want him? My brain was on overload, I couldn't think straight. All I knew was I wanted more. I didn't want to stop tasting and feeling him, so I held his cheek and brought my mouth back to his. No intensity was lost. As I ran my tongue along the inside of his top teeth, his arm held me tight to his body. We nipped and sucked each other's lips a few more times before our dad's voice cut through our union like a swift cleaver.
"Get back up here you two" he called. His tone was confusing, it wasn't angry or disgusted, it was almost teasing or humorous. Could he really not see what we were doing? What about Ethan's wife? Had she returned to the patio? Cold reality washed over me and I think he could see it in my eyes. He gave a soft chuckle, "Coming" he threw back at dad, and gave me one last peck before we navigated exiting the hammock.
I couldn't believe it. I was always so jealous of how cool he was. I stared in awe at him walking back up to the porch toward our father and into the house that contained his wife, like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Here I was, with combination alcohol, nerves, arousal, and adrenaline making me walk like Bambi's first steps.
I thought about it a lot in the following days. It would sneak up on me when I didn't suspect it. I could feel his lips, his hands, his breath, before waking up to the realization I was fantasizing about my brother. He wasn't really my brother right? We didn't grow up bickering about who took too long in the bathroom or whose space was being violated on car trips. True I always thought about him as my brother but I didn't really know how other people who grew up together thought about their brothers. I remember being exponentially more excited for Ethan's surprise visits than Aaron's, even to the point where I remember starting to dress up for them around age 16. I remember being nervous around him, thinking how attractive looking he was. I remember being annoyed that he in all his 6'5" glory would date girls that were 5'2" if they had shoes on. I thought about how excited I would get when he'd come to family gatherings and rather than my usual teenage annoyance at obligatory family functions I'd think "at least Ethan is here". Then it dawned on me. I want him. I've wanted him for a long time. I didn't get dressed up to see Aaron, I didnt particularly care if he was at events or not. I wasn't annoyed Ethan was wasting his height on short girls, I was jealous. Especially that he was into girls that looked nothing like me (I'm 6'). It all started to make sense.
I remember once during college he lived close to me, and he invited me to hang out with him and his roommates one night. We were all standing around the garage staring at Ethan's latest build. He's a mechanic and car enthusiast and would build and race anything. We were talking about what his beautiful mind had dreamed up this time when one of his buddies approached me.
"So, how's school going?"
"It's hard. Im struggling a lot right now, actually I kind of wonder if it's for me at all..."
"What!?" Ethan whipped his head in my direction.
"Yeah I just don't know if I'm cut out for it."
"You're staying in school. This is what you get if you don't finish school." he said as he extended a permanently grease-stained hand and forearm. "You don't want to be up to your elbows in shit, do you?"
"No" I croaked out looking at him affectionately. He wanted what's best for me, but sweet brotherly protection isn't what broke my voice. I stared at that big strong hand and had a mental flash of desire for those thick, work-rough fingers to be inside me, fucking me until the grease mixed with my pussy juice and ran in beads over the plump veins of that perfectly sculpted forearm. I shook it off at the time attributing my momentary depravity to my attraction to working men, and a horniness not tended to in too long but maybe there was more to it. I liked dirty men in coveralls, but why? The only one I knew was my brother. What if it wasn't just any fingers, but his fingers.
I wondered too about the wedding he mentioned. I had noticed that he looked good. I had just turned 19, so he would have been 25, single, no kids yet, in peak physical form. He had a dark black crew cut and a strong jaw, but it just seemed like my normal admiration of him. I didnt pick up anything on his end either. He gave me a look at the end of the night that was out of the norm, but I thought it was probably because he had just watched me take a drag of a cigarette and no one in the family had any idea I smoked. I couldn't have known what he was really thinking, could I?
I had decided to put it out of my mind for now. We didnt see or talk to each other that often, there was no use in dwelling on some crush I'd realized I'd always had. What was going to happen? He was my brother, and he was married.. and he was my brother! Pull yourself together girl.
A few weeks later I was finishing up one of my odd jobs on a Friday night when I got a text from Ethan.
Ethan: Hey J! Aaron and the girls and I are at Luscious, wanna come out for a few rounds?
Me: Sure, I'm still finishing up work though, probably can't make it for another hour or so.
Ethan: We'll be here.
I know you're probably thinking, who the hell goes to strip clubs with their siblings and wives? But it truly didnt seem weird to me. I knew Ethan and Aaron went together a lot and it felt nice to be included. We grew up in a boring suburban town, venturing into the city to go to strip clubs was high entertainment for most young adults.
I rushed home and put on my shortest shorts and black crop top, tossed on my cowboy boots and jetted out of the house to make it there before everyone was ready to leave. As I arrived I texted Ethan, and he met me in the front with a warm strong hug, paid my cover, and took my hand in his to escort me to the table.
"Aaron and Demi had to leave, she's got an early morning."
"Oh, I'm sorry I missed them!" I wasn't.
"Well here we are! Let me get you a drink."
I settled at the table with Ethan's wife, Michelle, and made small talk. We covered what the kids were up to and my job before he returned. It all felt very commonplace and innocent for the next hour or so as we drank and watched. We commented on the talent and how superior they were to the apparently inferior clubs I had patronized.
