A Girl from a Broken Home

One day one of the men from fantasy football came into my shop. His name is Jack and he had been the first of the men to spend the night with my Mom. I did not fault my Mom, nor him. Indeed, given the way my father behaved, I saw what she did as rebellion, as a way of saving her own sanity. And it worked. She had become once again a happy, beautiful woman. So, I welcomed Jack to my shop, and we hugged.

Jack's hug felt really nice. He pressed my boobs against his chest, and I could not help but feel his hard cock through his pants, pressing against my tummy. The hug lasted just a little too long. It made me nervous.

When the hug was over, I saw that look in his eyes again. I was no longer 18; far from it! But I guess I was still forbidden, being the child of his friends. Good: I certainly did not want to have to fight off sexual advances from Jack. That would have been too, too creepy. But the look in his eyes! Oh my God, I love that look. It made me feel as if I were an impossible object of extreme desire. I was instantly wet down there. You know where. The hug and the look had turned me on.

Jack got a coffee, a muffin, two free coffee refills, and a second muffin. Both muffins were carrot muffins, and he chose the Nicaraguan coffee. When he finally left, he complemented me on my shop, and my success, and bless his soul he gave me another of those looks. I did not charge him. It was my treat.

I walked him to the shop door, and he patted my ass as he left. His hand traced out my entire ass as the movement of his body pulled his hand away from my behind. He turned around, presumably to see my reaction, but I simply gave him my standard smile. It's a good smile. Like my father, my brother calls it a halogen smile. He says it lights up a room.

That night I fantasized about that look. I imagined taking Jack into the back of the store and letting him do whatever he wanted with me. I imagined too what he wanted to do to me. First I would get naked for him. He would inspect my body carefully, mumbling approval. (Hey, this is my fantasy! Why be modest?) He would bend me over the counter and take me rear entry.

Then he would have me blow him until he was hard again, and he would again bend me over the counter but surprise me by taking me in my ass. Then he would take dirty pictures of me, including close-ups of my cum filled pussy, and my cum filled asshole. Last, he would have me lie down on the cold floor while he gradually, ever so slowly, ate me out.

None of that happened, of course. What did happen was that I bought a vibrator and a dildo. I was much too horny.

The next week was my appointment with a bank. I wanted a loan in order to open up a second coffee shop. I had done my homework, scouted locations, did marketing tests. I had done everything one is supposed to do. I felt that I had a strong case.

The bank had flown in a big shot from the central office in Chicago. He was overseeing around ten applications in one day. Mine was the last. I imagined he would be tired, so I brought along a coffee and muffins for him. Well, two muffins: carrot, and lemon poppy seed. Who knows what bankers like?

I had sat there all day, watching the other hopefuls enter and leave. The men entered hopeful, and left happy. The women entered hopeful, and left distracted, often with their makeup a little askew. One woman left smelling of sex. I braced myself.

I looked at her, and especially I sought out the look of her eye. The look that she gave me, coupled with one small hand gesture, told me what I already had known. I knew she had given a blowjob to someone on the other side of that door. No words had been exchanged between us; but I knew. I wondered what the other women had given, for their loans? I had a good idea; I knew how the world works.

I went in, and there was a woman there, who explained the procedure quite efficiently. As she was leaving a man came into the room. The woman introduced me to this man, whom I now called 'the predator' in my head. It was the loan officer who had entered the room. I was introduced: "Ms. Celeste Jones, this is our loan executive officer, Mr. Franklin Dobbs."

Both of us were shocked. Neither of us knew what to do. The ethical thing was to point out we were brother and sister, and I needed another loan officer. This was not my obligation, it was Franklin's. I wondered however if Franklin still hated me because I took Mom's side in the divorce. Seeing the woman coming out of the interview having given Franklin a blowjob, indicated to me that he was rather thoroughly taking after our Dad.

"Ms. Jones," my brother said, "I'm a bit worn out after this long day. I've looked over your materials, and I am 90% sure we can give you the loan for your expansion. Congratulations on the success of your business. But I need a rest before we finalize the loan. Could you meet me for dinner tonight?"

I was thrilled. This loan would change my life. I played along. "Sure thing, Mr. Dobbs. I'd be happy to meet you for dinner. I brought you a muffin and coffee to keep you going. You have a choice of carrot and lemon poppyseed."

"Thank you," Franklin said, grabbing the carrot muffin. "My secretary, Ms. Everest, will explain what you should bring to the dinner and make the arrangements."

Franklin then left as Ms. Everest walked in. The way she looked at him, I knew Franklin was copying my father's playbook right down to bopping his secretary. Wow: he was sleeping with his secretary, and still demanding blowjobs from female loan applicants. He really is my father all over again.

But it was the way he looked at me that gave me the shivers. He had "the look." The look of the lust of the forbidden fruit. And we know exactly what fruit was forbidden. My panties covered it.

Did my brother want me sexually, too? No, it's not possible. No doubt I was just imagining that he had given me "the look." Anyway, I only thought I saw it in his eyes for a second. Maybe I was imagining.

Of course, I was imagining! What does Freud call it? Projecting? No, it can't be that! That would mean I wanted the forbidden fruit of my brother. That's not possible. Get a grip, Celeste!

I went home and called my Mom. I asked her if her former husband, my father, had ever had sex with his sister. I'm sure my mother thought that was a rather strange question to be coming from me, from out of the blue, but my Mom can read minds, even over the telephone.

"Yes, Celeste. He did. Your Dad had sex with every woman who crossed his path, including his own sister, and I think he still does bang her from time to time," she said.

"Are you sure?" I asked. My mom at this point reveled in thinking bad thoughts about my Dad. I did not completely trust her.

"Yes. His sister told me. The first time it had been borderline rape, in fact. It was long ago," she said. My Mom knew enough not to ask me why I was asking. Then she really surprised me. "I gave myself to my brother, too, once or twice. Maybe more than twice, actually."

I was silent. I was just holding the phone, looking at it, as if it were a strange instrument I had never seen before. "I don't recommend you sleep with Franklin, Celeste. If you already have slept with him, try not to continue. That's my advice. Been there, done that. It's sexy as hell, but it creates problems you do not need."

I thanked her. I explained why I asked, and told her about "the look" and the loan application. All she said in return was, "Be careful at dinner. Bring condoms, just in case. Got to go, now. One of your father's business buddies is here with me."

"Mom, are you fucking him while we talk?"

"Yes."

"Mom, that's gross."

"I know, dear."

"You're fucking him because he works with Dad, and he gets off on fucking his partner's former wife, and you get off on messing with Dad's head by doing this. Am I right?"

"You're clever, cutie pie. But the point is ...," and my mother let out a little sex moan, "Let's cut short this conversation, because because my lover here is not stopping soon. The man has staying power. It's one of his most endearing qualities, besides working with your Dad." My Mom gave another little moan. "Remember, bring condoms. Bring lots of them in case Franklin is even more like your father than I fear." I heard her groan, an incredible sexual groan, as she hung up the phone. My Mom has mastered the sexual groan. Lord knows she's had enough practice. Her groan was so hot it even almost got me aroused!

This is my family, I thought. Incest and promiscuity. Gigantic sex drives. What great genes to inherit! Damn.

Now I had a dinner waiting for me, with a brother who held the power of the purse dangling over my head, and he had "the look" in his eyes earlier this afternoon. I was in deep trouble. How much did I want this loan? Shit, I did not just want it, I needed it. I had already made commitments. People depended on me.

I had a moment of moral dilemma. Then I realized it was just dinner. He was my brother and he probably just wanted to see me, to catch up, and to reminisce about the happier days of our childhood together. I did love him, after all. We had grown apart since the divorce, and this was our chance to become close again. To be family.

I went to the dinner relaxed and happy. I was looking forward to seeing my brother. Everything would be fine. Since I always follow my Mom's advice, however, I had a dozen condoms in my purse. My Mom would always say two things: You never know, and take more than you need.

I had spent an hour in the afternoon leafing through an old family photo album, remembering all the wonderful times I had shared with Franklin before TGFD, my acronym for "The God Forsaken Divorce."

For the dinner, I wore nice, respectable clothes, but not overtly sexy ones. The outfit hugged my body, and the blouse was maybe a tad too small and hugged my breasts. Well, maybe it actually was a sexy outfit, if you're a man with a breast obsession. And I guess that's pretty common among men, isn't it?

When I entered the restaurant, and I saw my brother sitting there at a table already, in his Armani suit, soft baby blue shirt, and Hermes tie, I simply melted. Could I be related to such a gorgeous, hunky man? My face lit up into what my Dad used to call my mother's halogen smile. I was genuinely thrilled to see my brother there, looking successful and happy.

When my brother saw me, and perhaps when he saw too my thrill at seeing him, complete with a halogen smile, he gave off a smile that Crest could have used for a toothpaste commercial. My Mom called it my father's blaze of headlights smile. And it was. And it was there for me. It was there just for me - only for me.

We first signed the papers. He gave me a line of credit at his bank, and then we relaxed. We talked about old times, and then about recent times, carefully skipping the divorce years. Franklin wanted to see my café, so after dinner we went there. It was closed for the night, but of course I am the owner, so I let us in with a key.

"You have a coffee roaster, I see," Franklin said.

"Yes, we roast the beans ourselves, usually on Sundays. It makes the coffee fresher, and it tastes better."

"I'm sure it does. Do you bake those wonderful muffins yourselves too?"

"Yes. The kitchen with the ovens is in the back. Want to see?"

Franklin said he did. I took his hand and led him to the back. His hand felt good in mine.

"It's so good to see you again, Franklin. I must say you are now quite a handsome man. I'll bet you slay all the girls," I said, affectionately.

"I do okay. But none of the girls I've known is even half as pretty as you are, Celeste."

I thought about his beautiful secretary, whom he was obviously fucking every chance he got. It was obvious, or at least is was to me, perhaps because I knew him so well. And besides, he was our father's son. It was predetermined fate for him to sleep with his secretary.

"You flatter me," I said. "Don't waste a good line on your own sister, you devil," I said.

"I wish you weren't my sister," Franklin said. "You make my loins ache."

I was surprised by him saying that. I looked into his eyes and I saw "the look." He really did lust for me. My own brother!

Worse, I could not stop myself when I said, "I feel the same way. I wish you were not my brother."

We both just stood there, looking at each other. I was thinking of my Jack inspired fantasy of doing it bent over the counter, blowing him, and then him taking me in the ass. Lust was practically drooling out of his eyes. I wondered if he saw lust in my eyes, too?

"I should go," he said.

"Yes, I guess so," I said.

He turned to go, paused, and said, "Would you like a drink with me at my hotel's bar?"

I said yes so fast it would make your head swim. I said it so fast I think Franklin did not register it. So I said, "I'd love one, Franklin. I could use a drink. I was really tense about getting the loan."

I was not sure if he could commit incest. I was also pretty sure he thought I would never commit incest. To be honest, I did not know if I possibly could do such a thing, myself. But then I thought: My Mom did it, and my Dad did it. My Mom warned me off doing it, but told me to bring condoms to the dinner. Condoms which were still in my purse. Is that a mixed message or what? Or is it just Mom being careful, in case I lost my resistance?

My Mom is an easy lay. She wasn't always. My Dad drove her to it. But she seems really to enjoy sex. Nevertheless, she has sex only with men who are connected to my Dad. She does it to get under my Dad's skin. In this way she uses her body to extract a kind of sick, continual revenge. The overall effect, however, is that she has become a woman of easy virtue.

So the question is: Why did she warn me off? Should I listen to that?

This little internal debate I was having clarified things for me. I knew what I wanted, and I knew how to get it.

"You never gave your sister a kiss hello, Franklin," I said, when we were in the Hotel Bar and our drinks had just arrived. "Want to fix that?"

We both stood, and hugged, and Franklin kissed my cheek. "How very Protestant of you," I said, after I got his peck.

"Celeste, we are in fact Protestants. We're Lutheran, to be precise," he said.

"Pretend for a minute you're Catholic then, and try again," I said. He looked at me. He clearly was puzzled, not knowing what I meant.

I grabbed him, pulled him towards me, and kissed him on the lips, holding his head there so he could not pull away. I opened my mouth and probed his mouth until it opened too. Our tongues met, and we stood there kissing for a long time, probably two solid minutes. At the end his hand went down to my ass and caressed it a little.

I pulled away, and he looked scared. I was wondering if he thought I pulled away because he was fondling my ass. I silently chuckled to myself. "Now that's how you kiss a girl hello," I said. I emphasized the word "that's."

"Let's try again," Franklin said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He left the bar, walked in a circle in the lobby, and then came into the bar, saw me there of course, and called out, "Celeste! How wonderful to see you!"

Franklin came to me, grabbed me, and gave me the kiss of all kisses. It lasted a very long time, and he fondled my ass and then moved his hands up to fondle my boobs. I gave his cock a surreptitious squeeze, and it was nice and hard. I love it when a man is hard.

I broke the kiss, finally, since we were making a scene in the bar, and we went to our table. I was already breathing heavily, due to arousal. Our drinks were still there on our table, of course. Franklin charged them to his room. We drank our drinks slowly, looking into each other's eyes. My brother has nice eyes, I thought. I had never noticed them in detail before.

My brother put down his drink. He once again had "the look," the one of lust for forbidden fruit that always seems to get me aroused. "This hotel has nice rooms," he said. "I have one on a high floor, and it has a great view. Would you like to see it?"

I smiled my most fetching smile, and I said, "Yes."

Franklin took my hand and led me to the elevator. I clutched my purse and thought about the dozen condoms inside it. Once inside the elevator, he was all over me. He kissed me, pushed up my skirt, and stuck his hands inside my panties, exposing my bare ass as he pushed them down.

Unfortunately, the elevator stopped on the 6th floor and a man got on. He got a nice view of my bare ass I guess. My back was to him, but I could see his face in the elevator's mirrored back wall, and he actually winked at my brother.

"She has a nice ass. Take a feel for yourself," my brother said. In between the 6th and the 12th floor I had two men pawing my bare ass, while I was busy kissing Franklin. Fortunately, Franklin did not ask the stranger into his room, too!

"What was that about?" I asked when we were alone. "Why did you offer my ass to the stranger?"

"Why did you let him paw your bare ass?" came the reply.

"Touché," I said. "Maybe I let him because he did not stop with my ass. His fingers found another special place. One that yours have never yet explored, dear brother."

My use of the word "yet" kind of gave away the show. My brother must now have known I was willing.

"I can rectify that," he said.

"Shall we go back to the elevator?"

"I was thinking here, sister of mine." I got the shivers when he called me his sister.

"Were you now?" I said. "What a thing to think!"

He came to me and slowly, very slowly, he painstakingly, carefully removed my clothes. I was standing before him in bra and panties. I then returned the favor until he was standing before me in his briefs, which formed a lovely tent, covering his cock.

"I have to see your boobs, Celeste. I have been salivating about them for much too long," he said.

"For how long?" I asked. "Since you first saw me at dinner, or since my appointment for the loan request?"

"For the last ten years, you innocent moron. Don't you know I've lusted for you since you turned 18?" he said.

So, the look of lust I had briefly seen flit across my brother's face from time to time had been exactly that: A look of lust. A look of lust for the forbidden.

"Ten years is a long time. I guess I should let you have a peak, then. It would be cruel not to do so." I removed my bra.

"Do you like my boobs, brother of mine? Do you want to touch them?" I said, my voice laced with affection.

He did. When his hand touched my boob, gingerly as if he were afraid he would break it, I got so aroused I had to bite my lip. I groaned as he fondled my boobs and tweaked my nipples. I made yummy noises as he sucked on my tits, as if he were a nursing infant. I was so wet down there I began to leak through my panties.

Franklin lay me on the bed, and he removed my panties. Now I was completely exposed to him. He got his iPhone and snapped a few pictures of my nudity. Then he got a carrot muffin he had stolen at the café tour earlier, and crumpled it up, stuffing it into my pussy. "A muffin for your muff," he said.

Franklin lay down too, and he ate the muffin right out of my muff. In the process, he did his best to turn me on. My brother knows his way around a woman, and he is good. He is very good. I made a mental note to thank his secretary, since I figured she had trained him to please her, and now I was the beneficiary of her efforts. Nice.

My first orgasm came quickly; Franklin had not even yet finished the muffin. The second one came from his wonderful fingering. I had no idea my brother was such a talented man. "Jesus, Franklin, who taught you how to finger a girl like that. It's amaz--oh God, YES!" I screamed as I came for the second time.