Who Was I Fooling Pt 01

***

Author's Note

This is a coming-of-age story about an eighteen-year-old neurodivergent young woman named Eloise Aldridge. She has an incredibly difficult life and is dealing with many issues.

The story covers her introduction to sex during the last months of her high school career. At its heart. it is a slow-burn twincest story.

This story includes graphic depictions of sex, including references to incest, lesbian sex, and a non-graphic depiction of two males engaging in homosexual sex. If you don't like this, then this isn't the story for you.

Likewise, my intent was to write a good story, not to write something with extreme realism. If you do not like stories about extraordinary people in extraordinary circumstances, then this is not the story for you.

This story is novel-length and will be published in eight parts. The entire story arc is written. I promise you that I will not abandon you half way.

All characters depicted having sex are eighteen years old or older.

***

Copyright 2024

I am the copyright holder of this work.

You may not duplicate parts or all of this story, either in text, audio or images without my permission.

I generally permit derivative works that credit the original story and author, but you must ask first. You will not receive permission to distribute derivative works off of this site.

You may not use this story as screen-read audio on a YouTube video. If you do, I will file a copyright strike against you.

You may not use this story to train any AI or machine-learning construct.

***

==============================

Who Was I Fooling? - Part 1

The year was 2009

***

I was really irked.

I didn't bother knocking. I more or less kicked my twin brother's door open.

Landry was sitting on his bed playing a game on his Switch. He was mentally vegging. His mop of blonde hair was disheveled as if he'd taken a shower and didn't bother combing it afterwards. He flinched like his door had just exploded. I suppose it had.

After he came to his senses, he said, "What the hell, Noise?"

"That's the last time I ever cover for you, Laundry," I said coldly.

Landry looked at me with a wide-eyed expression. He said, "I have no idea what you're talking about. You mind starting at the beginning?"

My name was Eloise Aldridge. Until I was eight, I was known by my parents, friends, and family as "Ellie." That was true right up until my brother hit the vocabulary word "noise" when he was in first grade. He was taken by the similarity between the words "Eloise" and "Noise". This tickled him to no end and he immediately began calling me "El-noise", which before too long shortened to "Noise".

Unfortunately, this nickname possessed a lot of sticking power. Within two weeks, everyone in my life-- my father, mother, my family, and my friends were all calling me Noise.

They jumped on that as a nickname because I talked a lot. I still do, actually. My particular issue is that I am on the hyper-functional side of the autism spectrum. I have an eidetic and and echoic memory and near total recall of everything. I am also very good at systematic and critical thinking. Those three traits combined are an honest-to-God superhero power.

Unfortunately, like all superheroes, I had a fatal flaw. My Achilles heel is that I am almost completely an auditory processor. Most people think and process their thoughts internally. Thinking is something they do when their mouthes are shut. I think and process externally by talking to myself. Thinking is something I really only do when my mouth is moving.

These days, the term that a psychologist would use to describe me is "neurodivergent", which is a way of acknowledging that my brain works differently without denigrating my character. Back when my brother tagged me with the nickname "Noise", the terms everyone used to describe me, even psychologists, were "nerd" and "weirdo".

Consequently, when I was you I hated the nickname "Noise" and all that it represented. To defend myself, I decided to tag Landry with a nickname of his own. He was only in first grade, but he was athletic, very outgoing, and was beloved by everyone who met him. His one issue was the he was always filthy. He couldn't wear a shirt for five minutes before there was a stain on it. I first thought about calling him "Pig Pen", but that lacked the stickiness that came from being associated with his real name. That's when I came up with "Laundry". My nickname for him was perfect and we became known as "Noise and Laundry" to the folks in our small town. Over the years, I've come to accept and appreciate my nickname.

In Landry's bedroom, I brandished a pair of satin panties and threw them at him. They hit him in the face. It took him a moment to recognize what they were. When he did, he blushed deep red.

"Our-Don't just chewed me a new asshole for leaving these on the bathroom floor," I said. "She asked me if they were mine and I told her they were. This is the last time I will take the fall for you."

Our stepmother's name was Arden. It didn't take too long for my brother and I to nickname her "Our-Don't". My brother and I really didn't get along with Arden. Part of it was that she was intrusive. Part of it was that she was desperately trying to replace our mom. Part of it was the fact that Arden was just nine years older than Landry and I.

Most of it, however, was that she played a role in driving my mother away from us. She was one of my father's business sharks working as his personal assistant and they had an affair. Mom was so hurt, she ran away, leaving Landry and I with dad. Mom never even said goodbye. She just abandoned us. That's how Arden became our step mother.

My brother groaned with his hands over his face, "Oh, Noise, you shouldn't have done that! We're going to have no end of trouble."

"Why is that?" I asked with trepidation.

"These are clean now, but I'd been using them to.... you know...release. For several days."

He could see that I wasn't following what he was saying, so he said, "They were covered in my jizz, Noise." He was deeply abashed.

I processed this by saying it out loud, "Laundry covered those panties in jizz."

As soon as I said it, it became real in my head. My brother was jerking off into those panties.

"Oh! Ewwww! You dirty pervert!" I said with a smirk. He turned beet red.

After thinking about it some more, I got angry. "You asshole!" I accused, "Now Our-Don't is going to think I'm fucking some guy!"

Landry's sheepish voice said, "They were absolutely coated, Noise. She probably thinks it is more than one guy."

"Crap!" I screamed.

Nothing, of course, could be further from the truth. I wasn't fucking anybody and never had.

My brother and I attended an exclusive private school in New Bern, NC. I was the neurodivergent run-away valedictorian. I was essentially viewed as "rain man with the talking problem". In a candidate pool that small, there was not a single person willing to put up with my fundamental level of weirdness. I was a total virgin, hadn't been kissed, and hadn't ever gone on a date. Now my step mother, who I despised, was going to think I was the school whore.

"Shit, Laundry," I vented. "Dad is going to flip."

Landry suddenly sat up. He said, "If Dad flips, I'll tell him the truth. I won't let him take it out on you."

"You think he's going to believe you?" I asked. "I sure as hell don't think he will."

Landry didn't know what to say. He looked like he was going to cry.

"What the hell is a guy like you doing jerking off into panties, anyway? There isn't a straight girl in this one-horse town who hasn't been all over your knob since you were fourteen."

Landry became defiant. "I haven't so much as touched anyone in this town in my life. I'm not that stupid."

"Why not?" I was incredulous.

"I'm gittin' out of this 'one horse town', come hell or high water." He said that bit in a fake Texas accent. When I didn't answer his smile, he sighed.

"You know how these small-town girls are," he said. "Especially the ones with money. They lust after Dad's money, power, and influence in the worst way. I'm scared to death I'll get harpooned, become a father before I can legally drink, and get sucked into dad's twisted business world."

Our father, Stanford Aldridge, was the wealthiest and the most important man in Craven County, North Carolina. He was a multimillionaire property developer. He owned almost all of the undeveloped property in Craven, Lenoir, Beaufort, and Pitt, and Jones counties. He had the mayor, the city council, the sheriff, all of the county officials, the Governor, and Lt. Governor, and even the PTA in his pocket. My father's business was fundamentally cutthroat and he had no friends-- only enemies. To say he lived a toxic life was an understatement. My brother and I were both desperate to avoid the event horizon which would suck us into his business enterprises.

Landry, of course, was right to worry about being a target for ambitious women. Not only was he one of the richest male heirs in the state, he was an all-star athlete, and he was exceptionally good looking. I didn't have a female friend or acquaintance who didn't think he was the best looking guy they'd ever seen in their life. His California blonde surfer boy good looks were a rarity in Eastern North Carolina. Craven county girls had been throwing themselves at him since he was twelve. He was everything I wasn't.

He took my lack of reaction to his statement to be disapproval. "Don't be like that, Noise. I'm just following your example. You don't date and fool around, so I don't either."

I was flabbergasted at him saying this. "My lack of dating isn't exactly by design, Laundry. I don't date because I'm a freak. I've never had a regular conversation with a guy in my high school career, much less been on a date. There isn't one guy in school who would date me."

He looked at me like I was crazy. "Noise, the guys at our school are falling all over you. You just don't see it because you choose not to."

"Why hasn't anyone asked me on a date, then?" I asked.

"Noise, you are utterly unobtainable, don't you know that? You're the smartest girl the school has ever seen, you are top three in beauty in the school, you are the most eligible heiress in this half of the state. The only thing that made you approachable was the fact that you were a late bloomer. After you bloomed last year. That was all she wrote."

He was amazed at my doubtful reaction to his pronouncement.

"You should be honest with yourself, Noise. You haven't been particularly approachable. Guys want to know they have a fighting chance before they'll risk getting shot down. You've never given anyone the first sign that you are interested. What everyone thinks is that you have judged this pond too be too small to contain a worthy candidate. Everyone thinks you are holding out for the wealthy stud you'll meet when you're off at whatever Ivy League school you will eventually attend."

My brother's statement was ludicrous at face value, but it was a seductive thought because it gave me hope that I could get someone. I was eighteen and I'd never been kissed. I was desperate for that to change.

I said out loud, "I have a hard time believing that I could have anyone I wanted, but this is a testable hypothesis. Who could I use as a control? Noel is the gayest guy in school. When he came out to his parents, they just said, 'Duh!'. I could flirt with him, and set my baseline. I could then flirt with a target and measure the response. If I prove Laundry's hypothesis that I am attractive enough to obtain a mating partner, I could run a series of tests all the way up to actually fucking someone.... God I would love that. I'm so desperate...."

"Noise!" my brother interrupted. "I know you work things out by talking them out, but I'm right here in the room-- my room. You shouldn't say this stuff in front of me or anyone else."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Your brother does not need to know who, what, when, where, or why, you're down to fuck."

"Answer one question for me, Laundry," I asked.

"Which is?"

"If you're so afraid of being harpooned by a local girl, whose panties are those?"

"Aw, shit, Noise. You don't want to know and I don't want you to know."

"Have I ever revealed one of your secrets, Laundry? Do you think I'm not trustworthy?"

"Noise, I trust you with my life. It just isn't my secret to share. Gentlemen aren't supposed to kiss and tell."

"This is a special case, Laundry and you know it," I said. "I'm about to take Dad's shitstorm for your carelessness. I think I deserve an answer."

"Doctor Fee gave them to me."

My mouth gaped open. Eighteen months ago, Landry fell into a deep depression. It was bad enough that he quit eating for a time. The doctors were concerned and told Dad that he was, for a couple of weeks, in danger of dying. What Dad and Arden didn't know was that during that time, Landry confided in me that he was suicidal. Dad was in the cusp of having him institutionalized so he could be tube fed. Had he known, Dad woukd have pulled the trigger.

As twins, Landry and I had always been extremely close, especially since mom abandoned us, so I spent hours and hours with him trying to help him see the brighter side of life.

Dr. Tricia Feanon, or Dr. Fee, as Landry nicknamed her, is a clinical psychologist who has the one of the best success rates in the US when dealing with severe male teen depression. She normally lives and works in the Maryland suburbs of DC. Dad started flying her into New Bern for two days once a month for counseling sessions with Landry. The counseling helped Landry dig out of his funk. He is almost back to normal now.

"Are you fucking Dr. Fee?" I asked.

He looked ashamed again. "Yes, Noise. Since our eighteenth birthday. We waited almost a year for it to become legal before we started."

"A mental health professional who sleeps with her patients is more than a little unethical, Laundry," I replied. There was evident disgust in my voice when I said it.

"It saved my life, Noise. It honestly did. Her decision to have sex with me was an act of mercy," he said.

"How is that mercy?" I asked.

"You know how lonely and isolated I am here in New Bern? How I can't trust any girl not to harpoon me? Don't you realize that even after I go to college, how hard it is going to be to find someone who isn't simply after Dad's heir?"

"I know all about that," I said. I spent a lot of time thinking about this situation too. My plan was to go to a University as far away as possible and I was going to keep my family wealth a closely-guarded secret. My brother didn't have the academic capacity to do the same and that option was not really open for him.

"That's at the root of my depression," Landry explained. "Dr. Fee saw my situation as a logic problem. I needed an attractive female companion to focus on. Someone who was absolutely trustworthy, who wouldn't leverage me into a big payout, and who was discrete enough to hold confidences. She applied some logic and came up with herself as the answer. She promised to have sex with me when I turned eighteen. That gave me the hope I needed to climb out of the hole. When I turned eighteen, she made good on her promise. I've improved by leaps and bounds since then.

"And why, pray tell, is she trustworthy where the local girls aren't?" I asked.

"I can trust her to keep our secrets because she has a lot to lose. She is married with children and doesn't want to break up her family. She'd lose her license to practice and her career if we were ever discovered. On the plus side, she cannot get pregnant because she had her tubes tied. Her husband is twelve years older than her and he's-- well, let's just say, they don't have a fulfilling relationship and Dr. Fee is still in her prime. She saw it as an act of mercy that was a win-win. I've gotten better. You've seen that, right?"

I echoed his statement to process it, "It was an act of mercy and it was a win-win." As I said it, my intuition told me it was true. I nodded to my brother.

"Wasn't giving you her panties a little risky?" I asked.

He nodded and said, "She gave them to me to tide me over between appointments. We swap them out when we meet. They smell like her and the material feels good to jerk into. I think she gets off knowing I come all over them. After I use them, I usually roll them up in a towel and sneak them back into my room, but they must have fallen to the floor last night."

I nodded and left without saying anything else. It wasn't my business and frankly, it was all too much information.

***

I walked downstairs to get a drink. Arden accosted me as soon as I entered into the kitchen. She was a red-headed beauty who was average height. I was a late bloomer and finally outgrew her last year. She was now three inches shorter than me. She carried herself with an air of authority. Her expression, as always, was very hard to read. Whether she was curious or angry, her expression always looked the same.

"What were you and your brother fighting about upstairs, Ellie?"

Ellie is what I insisted that Arden call me. I told her she didn't get privileges to call me 'Noise' and she'd abided by that. It was one of my few successes I had at staving off her familiarity.

When she asked about my fight with Landry, my inclination was to tell her to go screw herself. I was about to do that when a perverse thought entered my head. I decided to run with it.

"I don't want to say, and I shouldn't say, Arden, but I'm worried sick about Laundry," I said it with pathos.

"Why?"

"I think his depression is coming back. I think he needs more time with Dr. Fee. However, he's scared to death to ask Stafford. You know how Stafford will piss and moan about it and then give him the third degree. I was trying to tell him to man up and communicate that he needs more counseling time. He refused."

When I saw her nod in understanding, I realized that it worked.

"Do you think I should let you and Landry ask your father," she asked. "Or should I just go to your father on your behalf?"

I made a show of thinking about it. I said out loud, "If you wait for Landry to ask, it will cause him more anxiety and distress and worsen the depression. If Arden asks, she gives Stafford a chance to reject the request. Then the need for more counseling becomes an issue that Landry would have to discuss, causing him more distress and anxiety. If Arden justs demands it from Stafford, then he has no choice but to take Arden's word for it. Landry will get the extra counseling he needs without having to justify it with Stafford. The best part is that it will also help Landry to see that Arden is on his side."

Having reasoned that out loud, I turned to her and said, "You should just go to Stafford and demand it."

When she nodded, she acted as if she were considering and making up her mind, but I knew she'd just do what I told her to do. I wanted to laugh that she was so easily manipulated. I held in my mirth so I didn't give the game away.

"I would also like the chance to talk with Dr. Fee, too," I said. "That is, if she deals with female clients. I have unresolved issues with my mom and my issues are not unlike Laundry's." This was a spur-of-the-moment request. I still wasn't over my mother abandoning me and I'd never really had anyone I could talk to about it.

Arden replied, "As long as we're going to the expense of bringing her down here, I don't see why not."

***

The build up to dinner that night was nerve wracking. It was nerve wracking because Arden was clearly gearing up for a major discussion with Dad. She had on a top that exposed her cleavage magnificently and she looked preoccupied. This was the universal sign that she was going to make an issue with Dad about something Landry or I did.