khurramqazi
08-31-2010, 11:26 PM
by mintabal3239
"Need sugar?" He chuckled. I was happy to hear him laugh. I thought he would be very nervous.
"Not sugar darling, it is quite sweet. A pinch of salt may improve it." I chuckled too.
We left the theater shortly before the intermission. On the ride back I asked my brother to drive his vehicle into a pot hole filled with water and splash mud on my sari. He did so. I went home and had a good excuse to wash my sari. Chennai's complaining drivers please note: pot holes have their uses too!
I cleaned up as soon as we reached home. I could never have imagined that one discharge can soak a whole pallav, or one movie session saturate front and back of a pair of knickers so thoroughly.
22 January 2003
My brother and I are like newly weds waiting for the nuptials. Whenever we get a chance we cuddle and fondle with my hand on his cock and his hand on my pussy, alas over the clothes.
I return from my store early today giving headache as excuse for half day's leave. I have a job to do. I have a married colleague in my store Parvathy, who speaks of sexual matters with frankness that sets me and Mohana, an unmarried colleague, squirming. We squirm, but we listen nevertheless. Its seems that her husband used to like her clean shaven during the first two years of married life but now wants her to sport a heavy brush. He is not satisfied with what she is able to grow.
"Why don't you try the men's hair growth tonic," said Mohana who had a streak of humour in her. The senior colleague was not amused.
I do not know what my brother's fancy was regarding woman's pubic hair, but I wanted his first viewing to be unimpeded. I wonder if I am a shameless woman. Most women would be dreading the day when they have to expose themselves to a man, but I am waiting for that day and preparing assiduously for it. I suppose having a brother for lover makes it all different.
I used my brother's razor to shave my pussy. I usually only trim it with scissors but now I gave it its first shave. It is not as difficult as I thought it would be. Some broad swipes, but the inner leaves needed steady hands. I examined it in my hand mirror. I do not consider the pussy an object of beauty. No woman does, but men do and that's what really matters. My pussy is smooth and ready for inspection by the commander-in-chief.
23 January 2003
My mother had gone to Chinglepet for a wedding. Thursday was weekly holiday for my brother. My brother knows that I have exchanged my weekly off day with a colleague to be at home that day. My heart is thudding as much from excitement as fear. My mother leaves home early and was expected back only in the evening.
I served breakfast to my brother. He squatted on a mat with a plantain leaf spread in front of him. I place one rice cake on the leaf, and he poured himself chutney. He is a gulper; soon I served him another. As I bend down he looked up into my valley which I had exposed liberally for his benefit. He smiled and I smiled back. I could feel a warm surge pass over my face.
"Is that pallav necessary?" It was certainly unwanted. I removed it and tucked it to my waist.
"Better." Soon the time for the next serving arrived. I bend down and serve. He looked up again.
"Too many hooks," he said. I released the top two hooks of my blouse. I had no bra on that day in honour of the occasion. I looked up seeking approval. He shook his head: not adequate. I removed one more hook. No satisfaction yet. I removed them all. The blouse is open and the breasts are exposed. He lifted up his left hand and reached for one breast. He passed his hand over it and then gently pressed it. His hand wandered off to the other breast. The tit of that breast got his attention. He pinched it and then he pressed it in, and then watched it plop out. He then started eating rapidly as if some important job was awaiting him.
"Slow down," I said, "and you have to eat one more than the usual five. You will need extra energy."
"Extra energy, why?" He winked. If he expected me to crumble in shame he was mistaken. I replied brazenly.
"I thought you would know; I'll explain after breakfast." There is no time when a sister cannot tease a brother. He finished and washed his hands. I disposed off the plantain leaf in the garbage bin. I stood in the room with coffee tumbler in hand. He wiped his hands on a towel hanging from the line. His eyes were on me. I was fidgeting.
"With the blouse open partly revealing those magnificent breasts you look like a temple goddess," he said.
"Have coffee," I said to change the topic.
"No I want milk," he said pointing to my breasts.
"I don't think there is any milk there."
"Any objections if I try." I suddenly felt very motherly to him.
"No my darling, no objection whatsoever. Come to me your sister and suck. I would love to feel your lips on my tits." I came closer to him. I placed the coffee tumbler on the table and removed my blouse altogether. I placed a hand on the back of his neck and brought his head close to one breast and with the other hand lifted it up and placed the tit on his lips. He looked up and met my eye. There was no shame, no blush in me. I was smiling with affection for someone whom I have loved in some way or the other all my remembered days. He first plucked the tit with his lips and then he caught the tit between his upper lip and slightly protruded tongue and started sucking.
"Cover your teeth with your lips and bite honey." My tit needed hard pressure. He did so. A thrill passed through me. "It's wonderful," I said softly. I was unable to stand. I slowly sat on the mattress on the floor careful not to lose touch with his lips. I was now resting with back on the wall. My brother was lying with head on my lap and sucking away like a baby and I was making the crooning noises mothers make. Like mothers I soon detached his lips from one breast and attached it on to the other. I wonder if suckling mothers feel the sensation I felt. Even at that moment when I was yet to unite with him I imagined that it was the baby I bore for him that was sucking. It was a great sensation and I was making clicking noises each time the sensation peaked. Then suddenly the nipples ceased to have any sensation. My pussy now felt hot.
Without being aware of it I was bending my knees and spreading my thighs and at the same time drawing my sari upwards. I was now pressing his head downwards towards the pussy. He let go off the tit and was now staring at my pussy for I had spread my thighs and lifted my feet up in the air displaying my pussy, overflowing with juices, for him to see.
"Far better than what I imagined it would be," he said. His voice was hoarse with awe.
"So you have been imagining."
"Of course I have. For years, you were always my fantasy baby. You have shaved it."
"Using your razor."
"Indeed, that was why when I was shaving this morning I got a hard-on." This was really funny. I laughed.
"Yes, God promise, I did." He kissed my pussy and then he drew back a little to examine it. He passed his fingers over the mound and the outer leaf. With his index and thumb he spread the inner leaves. I was now fully on my back with my thighs spread so widely that they were on the side of the body almost touching the mattress. My brother lifted up the clit hood to see the tense clitoris.
"Quite angry your clitoris," he said.
"It is putting on a mighty display in your honour."
"May I touch it?"
"Of course, but only with your tongue." He dropped on his knees and gently kissed the clitoris. I used both hands to spread the inner leaves till the clitoris protruded like a button. He touched with the tip of his long and pointed tongue. A thrill passed up my body. Then he licked. An indescribable sensation racked my body. I now moved my thighs as wide as it would go and then I brought down my feet on the mattress and lifted up my pelvis, and as I lifted my pelvis I pressed his head down firmly with both my hands. I went through this cycle of motion again and again. He speeded up and I was moving in frenzy and then he stopped. When he restarted soon after he was licking slowly in broad swipes. I felt as if I was falling off a cliff. It was a sensation words cannot describe. I screamed a muffled scream as I had an orgasm of unimaginable intensity.
"O! My darling brother this is just divine," I said. "Now fuck me." I used the word for the first time. He climbed on top of me. His cock was large and angry with thick veins coursing over it. I held it. It was hot. I took it to my pussy. I inserted it. My pussy was so wet that it went in producing a momentary sharp pang as the membrane ruptured—my brother was taking my virginity, what more could a girl want.
He is pumped and I moved my pelvis to his rhythm. Soon he ejaculated; my orgasm coincided. He waited for me and then gave me another. Later my brother said that girls do not generally have orgasm in their first.
"Generally they don't, because generally it is not the brother who does it," I said.
We lay hugging each other in our nakedness. My brother wanted me to wash but I held my thighs tightly together. I wanted to hold his precious semen inside me for as long as possible. I knew the danger, but the danger enhanced the pleasure. Then I got up and washed and went on with household chores. My brother slept.
26 January 2003
Mother is on one of her rare visits to relatives. She has gone to Manali to condole an aunt who had lost her husband. We get our second chance. At his request I undressed and sat crouching on a stool with both feet on the stool. Probably this was the pose in his favourite nude photo. From where he sat my brother could see parts of my breasts with my pussy exposed between my fully flexed hips. He sat and admired and then he crawled towards me and applied his tongue to my pussy.
"Anything you want," he asked hospitably.
"I want to take in my mouth," I said. Only a sister could have been so bold. He sat on a chair with leg stretched and spread. His cock was waving in the air. I crouched on the floor between his legs. I caught his cock in my hand. It was hot. I ran my fingers along the shaft and then did the same with the tip of my nose, and then with my lips. I retracted the foreskin and kissed the rose. My brother tenderly rubbed my cheeks and played with my lips and then entwining his fingers in my hair. By now the cock was large and throbbing. I touched his balls. It was smooth. I took it into my mouth. It was quite a mouthful. I retracted the foreskin and plopped the rose in and out of my mouth. I encircled the flare of the rose with my lips and rubbed it in and out. He moaned. I took the cock as deep into the throat as possible and then I pulled it out. I took it out, looked up and smiled.
"Like it?" I asked.
"Very much so," he said. Brother was holding my head with both his hands and moving his hips. I was working with speed for I could sense that he cannot hold it any longer. And then he poured. I took it all in my mouth, each spurt as it shot out, and I swallowed it without spilling a drop. Some leaked out of the angles of the mouth, but with my long tongue I licked my lips. Then I took out the cock which as now shrivelled and licked every bit I could squeeze out.
"Need salt?" he asked.
"No," I said, "it is perfect."
Then we lay down with me holding his cock in my mouth and he with head between my thighs with lips on my pussy. His face was wet with my juices. We snoozed.
I got up and checked the time. Mother's arrival was still a couple of hours away. My brother was sleeping soundly. He has the innocent face of a baby while he slept. I have a momentary pang of guilt for driving him along paths that by himself he would not dare step on. Then I am strong again.
I wanted him to have some more fun. I sat in the pose that he seems to fancy with hips fully flexed and feet tucked in close to the body. 'Mano," I called. After repeated calls he opened his eyes. The first thing that caught his eyes must have been my pussy pepping from between my thighs. He was must thought he was dreaming. Then he woke up, looked up at me and smiled. He crawled towards my pussy and started licking. Soon I was on my back with feet in the air vibrating my hips to his stimulation. I have a massive orgasm and then he comes on top of me and I insert. We have orgasms together. He rolls off.
"Come on, wash," he said.
"No. I want to keep it within me as long as possible," I said. He looked at me uncertainly. Then he went to the bathroom.
Once again I hold my thighs tightly together to keep his precious semen in my vagina. It is madness, I know, but I cannot help myself. It is my fervent prayer that my self-willed obstinacy does not harm those whom I hold precious. After a while I reluctantly go out to wash for mother arrival time was nearing.
6 February 2003
Our honeymoon continued. We get time for sex very infrequently and that only for quick ones. We tried various positions like I suppose all newly weds do. The woman on top I found very exhausting and the doggie uncomfortable. Man on top is the best for I can hug my brother and press my breasts against his chest.
We are very careful not to demonstrate our affection for each other in front of mother lest she suspect. But mother who knew every one of my moods one day looked at me in a peculiar way. She smiled a wry smile.
"Have you fallen in love Mahesh," she asked.
"What makes you say such a funny thing," I responded somewhat sharply.
"The sparkle in your eyes and body language is not just of a girl who has fallen in love; it is as if you are in the thick of your honeymoon."
"I have not fallen in love and if you think I am as happy as a girl in her honeymoon the best you can do to keep me in that happy state is by not bringing in fresh boys for bride viewing," I said.
We took no care at all about pregnancy. We used no contraceptives at all. It was sheer madness.
4 March 2003
Today is worrying time for me. Strangely enough when the event happened I was thrilled. I went with my brother to shop in T. Nagar for a sari for mother. The sales woman while she was billing our choice smiled and asked how long it was since we were married. 'Wait a minute. I'll guess' she said, and then came out with the answer. 'Four weeks.' I was thrilled that she should mistake us for a married couple. I turned to my brother and reached for his hand. 'Almost correct,' I said. 'Have a baby soon,' she said, 'don't do this silly family planning stuff my daughter is doing.' It was on the bus on my way back that I started worrying. I have gone out many times with my brother, but this was the first time someone has mistaken him for my husband. Was there a change in our body language that made others mistake us? What if our neighbours suspect. What if mother suspects. Has reckoning time come.
16 March 2003
The expected happens—my periods are overdue by three days. Deep down I feel I am with child. It was in the early morning conscience hour that I realise the enormity of the problem confronting me. I shiver. I do not regret my action. If placed in similar circumstances again I would do what I did. But there is no gainsaying that for an unmarried girl living with her family I am in a terrible state. The only person to whom I can go for assistance is my brother. But he would be of no use for something like this. I am however not without resources. I have heard of Dr. Gopika of the nearby Government Medical College Hospital who terminated the pregnancy of my colleague Parvathy in my department store. She spoke highly of her skill and kindness and particularly appreciated her for not chiding her about her foolishness in getting into this state in spite of all the contraceptive methods available. My case would strain the liberal attitude of the doctor the limit. My colleague was a married woman with two children. I had no idea what the doctor would think of a girl like me. I have no choice but to face the problem.
19 March 2003
Preliminary lab test are all over. I meet the doctor for the first time. Dr. Gopika was about fifty, broad faced, with streaks of grey in her hair and a sincere smile. She studied the results of the investigations and came to the point straight away.
"Unmarried?"
"Yes."
"You are pregnant. If you want to get married to the person responsible my social worker and I can help."
"No," I said.
"Why not? We have a lot of success in making it all right." I hesitated. There must have been something in my body language that made the perceptive doctor suspect the nature of my problem. Suddenly the attitude of the doctor changed. She rose, came round to where I sat, and with her face close to me she looked into my eyes and spoke tenderly. "Tell me my dear, who is the man."
"He is my brother." The doctor did not react at all.
"He seduced you, or was a chance occurrence, or did he force you?"
"I seduced him."
"You seduced him? Are you sure you are not trying to protect him."
"I planned it." Her response was unexpected. She smiled. My colleague in the store was right. This doctor did not waste time on what had already happened. The next question was immensely practical.
"Do you want to continue the relationship?"
"Yes I want to very much," I said.
"Use condom, and for additional precaution I will insert a copper T. When you want pregnancy I can remove it." Was the doctor actually encouraging me to continue the relationship? I do not know.
"Come tomorrow morning on an empty stomach. Can you bring your mother?"
"No," I said. The doctor must have noted the horror in my answer.
"Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me. Please be assured that only I know of your brother's part in it. No one in the department knows it. Keep it a secret. Bring your brother, that one."
"I have only one brother. I will bring him."
That night I was miserable. The thought of destroying my brother's baby growing in my womb was devastating. I cannot even weep to let out my feelings lest my mother note my swollen eyes and institute enquiries. But I could not help shedding some tears. But I had no choice. I swore before God that I will never allow such a situation to happen again.
20 March 2003
I was at the minor operation theatre at the appointed hour. A nurse called me in and made me lie on a couch. I felt a prick and then some vague sense of people talking in whispers. When I woke up from the induced sleep I was in the bed with my brother by my side. I could never have guessed that terminating of pregnancy caused by sex with one's own brother could be so devoid of hassles.
12 April 2003
I met the doctor several times after the operation. I needed only one review but the doctor seemed to have taken a fancy to me. At times she invited me to her home. One day I asked her the reason why she was not angry for my having sex with my brother.
"I could see that your passion was great," she said. "Even if I thought what you were doing was something horrible I would not have told you not to for you cannot help yourself."
"You do not think it is wrong."
"It is against the law, and that is wrong. But if two people love each other with extraordinary passion that cannot be wrong irrespective of the relationship between them. Do you know of any married woman with children who falls in love with a man and wants to leave her family and go to him?"
"I know. My classmate's mother did that."
"Do you think it was wrong?"
"Yes I did then; especially because it made my classmate so sad."
"Now?"
"I have not thought about it. May be I will take a more lenient view."
"That woman should not be condemned. The husband, her children, and society should accept it."
"Later on that classmate accepted the change. When we her friends say harsh things about her father she would defend him saying that he could not help it."
"Need sugar?" He chuckled. I was happy to hear him laugh. I thought he would be very nervous.
"Not sugar darling, it is quite sweet. A pinch of salt may improve it." I chuckled too.
We left the theater shortly before the intermission. On the ride back I asked my brother to drive his vehicle into a pot hole filled with water and splash mud on my sari. He did so. I went home and had a good excuse to wash my sari. Chennai's complaining drivers please note: pot holes have their uses too!
I cleaned up as soon as we reached home. I could never have imagined that one discharge can soak a whole pallav, or one movie session saturate front and back of a pair of knickers so thoroughly.
22 January 2003
My brother and I are like newly weds waiting for the nuptials. Whenever we get a chance we cuddle and fondle with my hand on his cock and his hand on my pussy, alas over the clothes.
I return from my store early today giving headache as excuse for half day's leave. I have a job to do. I have a married colleague in my store Parvathy, who speaks of sexual matters with frankness that sets me and Mohana, an unmarried colleague, squirming. We squirm, but we listen nevertheless. Its seems that her husband used to like her clean shaven during the first two years of married life but now wants her to sport a heavy brush. He is not satisfied with what she is able to grow.
"Why don't you try the men's hair growth tonic," said Mohana who had a streak of humour in her. The senior colleague was not amused.
I do not know what my brother's fancy was regarding woman's pubic hair, but I wanted his first viewing to be unimpeded. I wonder if I am a shameless woman. Most women would be dreading the day when they have to expose themselves to a man, but I am waiting for that day and preparing assiduously for it. I suppose having a brother for lover makes it all different.
I used my brother's razor to shave my pussy. I usually only trim it with scissors but now I gave it its first shave. It is not as difficult as I thought it would be. Some broad swipes, but the inner leaves needed steady hands. I examined it in my hand mirror. I do not consider the pussy an object of beauty. No woman does, but men do and that's what really matters. My pussy is smooth and ready for inspection by the commander-in-chief.
23 January 2003
My mother had gone to Chinglepet for a wedding. Thursday was weekly holiday for my brother. My brother knows that I have exchanged my weekly off day with a colleague to be at home that day. My heart is thudding as much from excitement as fear. My mother leaves home early and was expected back only in the evening.
I served breakfast to my brother. He squatted on a mat with a plantain leaf spread in front of him. I place one rice cake on the leaf, and he poured himself chutney. He is a gulper; soon I served him another. As I bend down he looked up into my valley which I had exposed liberally for his benefit. He smiled and I smiled back. I could feel a warm surge pass over my face.
"Is that pallav necessary?" It was certainly unwanted. I removed it and tucked it to my waist.
"Better." Soon the time for the next serving arrived. I bend down and serve. He looked up again.
"Too many hooks," he said. I released the top two hooks of my blouse. I had no bra on that day in honour of the occasion. I looked up seeking approval. He shook his head: not adequate. I removed one more hook. No satisfaction yet. I removed them all. The blouse is open and the breasts are exposed. He lifted up his left hand and reached for one breast. He passed his hand over it and then gently pressed it. His hand wandered off to the other breast. The tit of that breast got his attention. He pinched it and then he pressed it in, and then watched it plop out. He then started eating rapidly as if some important job was awaiting him.
"Slow down," I said, "and you have to eat one more than the usual five. You will need extra energy."
"Extra energy, why?" He winked. If he expected me to crumble in shame he was mistaken. I replied brazenly.
"I thought you would know; I'll explain after breakfast." There is no time when a sister cannot tease a brother. He finished and washed his hands. I disposed off the plantain leaf in the garbage bin. I stood in the room with coffee tumbler in hand. He wiped his hands on a towel hanging from the line. His eyes were on me. I was fidgeting.
"With the blouse open partly revealing those magnificent breasts you look like a temple goddess," he said.
"Have coffee," I said to change the topic.
"No I want milk," he said pointing to my breasts.
"I don't think there is any milk there."
"Any objections if I try." I suddenly felt very motherly to him.
"No my darling, no objection whatsoever. Come to me your sister and suck. I would love to feel your lips on my tits." I came closer to him. I placed the coffee tumbler on the table and removed my blouse altogether. I placed a hand on the back of his neck and brought his head close to one breast and with the other hand lifted it up and placed the tit on his lips. He looked up and met my eye. There was no shame, no blush in me. I was smiling with affection for someone whom I have loved in some way or the other all my remembered days. He first plucked the tit with his lips and then he caught the tit between his upper lip and slightly protruded tongue and started sucking.
"Cover your teeth with your lips and bite honey." My tit needed hard pressure. He did so. A thrill passed through me. "It's wonderful," I said softly. I was unable to stand. I slowly sat on the mattress on the floor careful not to lose touch with his lips. I was now resting with back on the wall. My brother was lying with head on my lap and sucking away like a baby and I was making the crooning noises mothers make. Like mothers I soon detached his lips from one breast and attached it on to the other. I wonder if suckling mothers feel the sensation I felt. Even at that moment when I was yet to unite with him I imagined that it was the baby I bore for him that was sucking. It was a great sensation and I was making clicking noises each time the sensation peaked. Then suddenly the nipples ceased to have any sensation. My pussy now felt hot.
Without being aware of it I was bending my knees and spreading my thighs and at the same time drawing my sari upwards. I was now pressing his head downwards towards the pussy. He let go off the tit and was now staring at my pussy for I had spread my thighs and lifted my feet up in the air displaying my pussy, overflowing with juices, for him to see.
"Far better than what I imagined it would be," he said. His voice was hoarse with awe.
"So you have been imagining."
"Of course I have. For years, you were always my fantasy baby. You have shaved it."
"Using your razor."
"Indeed, that was why when I was shaving this morning I got a hard-on." This was really funny. I laughed.
"Yes, God promise, I did." He kissed my pussy and then he drew back a little to examine it. He passed his fingers over the mound and the outer leaf. With his index and thumb he spread the inner leaves. I was now fully on my back with my thighs spread so widely that they were on the side of the body almost touching the mattress. My brother lifted up the clit hood to see the tense clitoris.
"Quite angry your clitoris," he said.
"It is putting on a mighty display in your honour."
"May I touch it?"
"Of course, but only with your tongue." He dropped on his knees and gently kissed the clitoris. I used both hands to spread the inner leaves till the clitoris protruded like a button. He touched with the tip of his long and pointed tongue. A thrill passed up my body. Then he licked. An indescribable sensation racked my body. I now moved my thighs as wide as it would go and then I brought down my feet on the mattress and lifted up my pelvis, and as I lifted my pelvis I pressed his head down firmly with both my hands. I went through this cycle of motion again and again. He speeded up and I was moving in frenzy and then he stopped. When he restarted soon after he was licking slowly in broad swipes. I felt as if I was falling off a cliff. It was a sensation words cannot describe. I screamed a muffled scream as I had an orgasm of unimaginable intensity.
"O! My darling brother this is just divine," I said. "Now fuck me." I used the word for the first time. He climbed on top of me. His cock was large and angry with thick veins coursing over it. I held it. It was hot. I took it to my pussy. I inserted it. My pussy was so wet that it went in producing a momentary sharp pang as the membrane ruptured—my brother was taking my virginity, what more could a girl want.
He is pumped and I moved my pelvis to his rhythm. Soon he ejaculated; my orgasm coincided. He waited for me and then gave me another. Later my brother said that girls do not generally have orgasm in their first.
"Generally they don't, because generally it is not the brother who does it," I said.
We lay hugging each other in our nakedness. My brother wanted me to wash but I held my thighs tightly together. I wanted to hold his precious semen inside me for as long as possible. I knew the danger, but the danger enhanced the pleasure. Then I got up and washed and went on with household chores. My brother slept.
26 January 2003
Mother is on one of her rare visits to relatives. She has gone to Manali to condole an aunt who had lost her husband. We get our second chance. At his request I undressed and sat crouching on a stool with both feet on the stool. Probably this was the pose in his favourite nude photo. From where he sat my brother could see parts of my breasts with my pussy exposed between my fully flexed hips. He sat and admired and then he crawled towards me and applied his tongue to my pussy.
"Anything you want," he asked hospitably.
"I want to take in my mouth," I said. Only a sister could have been so bold. He sat on a chair with leg stretched and spread. His cock was waving in the air. I crouched on the floor between his legs. I caught his cock in my hand. It was hot. I ran my fingers along the shaft and then did the same with the tip of my nose, and then with my lips. I retracted the foreskin and kissed the rose. My brother tenderly rubbed my cheeks and played with my lips and then entwining his fingers in my hair. By now the cock was large and throbbing. I touched his balls. It was smooth. I took it into my mouth. It was quite a mouthful. I retracted the foreskin and plopped the rose in and out of my mouth. I encircled the flare of the rose with my lips and rubbed it in and out. He moaned. I took the cock as deep into the throat as possible and then I pulled it out. I took it out, looked up and smiled.
"Like it?" I asked.
"Very much so," he said. Brother was holding my head with both his hands and moving his hips. I was working with speed for I could sense that he cannot hold it any longer. And then he poured. I took it all in my mouth, each spurt as it shot out, and I swallowed it without spilling a drop. Some leaked out of the angles of the mouth, but with my long tongue I licked my lips. Then I took out the cock which as now shrivelled and licked every bit I could squeeze out.
"Need salt?" he asked.
"No," I said, "it is perfect."
Then we lay down with me holding his cock in my mouth and he with head between my thighs with lips on my pussy. His face was wet with my juices. We snoozed.
I got up and checked the time. Mother's arrival was still a couple of hours away. My brother was sleeping soundly. He has the innocent face of a baby while he slept. I have a momentary pang of guilt for driving him along paths that by himself he would not dare step on. Then I am strong again.
I wanted him to have some more fun. I sat in the pose that he seems to fancy with hips fully flexed and feet tucked in close to the body. 'Mano," I called. After repeated calls he opened his eyes. The first thing that caught his eyes must have been my pussy pepping from between my thighs. He was must thought he was dreaming. Then he woke up, looked up at me and smiled. He crawled towards my pussy and started licking. Soon I was on my back with feet in the air vibrating my hips to his stimulation. I have a massive orgasm and then he comes on top of me and I insert. We have orgasms together. He rolls off.
"Come on, wash," he said.
"No. I want to keep it within me as long as possible," I said. He looked at me uncertainly. Then he went to the bathroom.
Once again I hold my thighs tightly together to keep his precious semen in my vagina. It is madness, I know, but I cannot help myself. It is my fervent prayer that my self-willed obstinacy does not harm those whom I hold precious. After a while I reluctantly go out to wash for mother arrival time was nearing.
6 February 2003
Our honeymoon continued. We get time for sex very infrequently and that only for quick ones. We tried various positions like I suppose all newly weds do. The woman on top I found very exhausting and the doggie uncomfortable. Man on top is the best for I can hug my brother and press my breasts against his chest.
We are very careful not to demonstrate our affection for each other in front of mother lest she suspect. But mother who knew every one of my moods one day looked at me in a peculiar way. She smiled a wry smile.
"Have you fallen in love Mahesh," she asked.
"What makes you say such a funny thing," I responded somewhat sharply.
"The sparkle in your eyes and body language is not just of a girl who has fallen in love; it is as if you are in the thick of your honeymoon."
"I have not fallen in love and if you think I am as happy as a girl in her honeymoon the best you can do to keep me in that happy state is by not bringing in fresh boys for bride viewing," I said.
We took no care at all about pregnancy. We used no contraceptives at all. It was sheer madness.
4 March 2003
Today is worrying time for me. Strangely enough when the event happened I was thrilled. I went with my brother to shop in T. Nagar for a sari for mother. The sales woman while she was billing our choice smiled and asked how long it was since we were married. 'Wait a minute. I'll guess' she said, and then came out with the answer. 'Four weeks.' I was thrilled that she should mistake us for a married couple. I turned to my brother and reached for his hand. 'Almost correct,' I said. 'Have a baby soon,' she said, 'don't do this silly family planning stuff my daughter is doing.' It was on the bus on my way back that I started worrying. I have gone out many times with my brother, but this was the first time someone has mistaken him for my husband. Was there a change in our body language that made others mistake us? What if our neighbours suspect. What if mother suspects. Has reckoning time come.
16 March 2003
The expected happens—my periods are overdue by three days. Deep down I feel I am with child. It was in the early morning conscience hour that I realise the enormity of the problem confronting me. I shiver. I do not regret my action. If placed in similar circumstances again I would do what I did. But there is no gainsaying that for an unmarried girl living with her family I am in a terrible state. The only person to whom I can go for assistance is my brother. But he would be of no use for something like this. I am however not without resources. I have heard of Dr. Gopika of the nearby Government Medical College Hospital who terminated the pregnancy of my colleague Parvathy in my department store. She spoke highly of her skill and kindness and particularly appreciated her for not chiding her about her foolishness in getting into this state in spite of all the contraceptive methods available. My case would strain the liberal attitude of the doctor the limit. My colleague was a married woman with two children. I had no idea what the doctor would think of a girl like me. I have no choice but to face the problem.
19 March 2003
Preliminary lab test are all over. I meet the doctor for the first time. Dr. Gopika was about fifty, broad faced, with streaks of grey in her hair and a sincere smile. She studied the results of the investigations and came to the point straight away.
"Unmarried?"
"Yes."
"You are pregnant. If you want to get married to the person responsible my social worker and I can help."
"No," I said.
"Why not? We have a lot of success in making it all right." I hesitated. There must have been something in my body language that made the perceptive doctor suspect the nature of my problem. Suddenly the attitude of the doctor changed. She rose, came round to where I sat, and with her face close to me she looked into my eyes and spoke tenderly. "Tell me my dear, who is the man."
"He is my brother." The doctor did not react at all.
"He seduced you, or was a chance occurrence, or did he force you?"
"I seduced him."
"You seduced him? Are you sure you are not trying to protect him."
"I planned it." Her response was unexpected. She smiled. My colleague in the store was right. This doctor did not waste time on what had already happened. The next question was immensely practical.
"Do you want to continue the relationship?"
"Yes I want to very much," I said.
"Use condom, and for additional precaution I will insert a copper T. When you want pregnancy I can remove it." Was the doctor actually encouraging me to continue the relationship? I do not know.
"Come tomorrow morning on an empty stomach. Can you bring your mother?"
"No," I said. The doctor must have noted the horror in my answer.
"Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me. Please be assured that only I know of your brother's part in it. No one in the department knows it. Keep it a secret. Bring your brother, that one."
"I have only one brother. I will bring him."
That night I was miserable. The thought of destroying my brother's baby growing in my womb was devastating. I cannot even weep to let out my feelings lest my mother note my swollen eyes and institute enquiries. But I could not help shedding some tears. But I had no choice. I swore before God that I will never allow such a situation to happen again.
20 March 2003
I was at the minor operation theatre at the appointed hour. A nurse called me in and made me lie on a couch. I felt a prick and then some vague sense of people talking in whispers. When I woke up from the induced sleep I was in the bed with my brother by my side. I could never have guessed that terminating of pregnancy caused by sex with one's own brother could be so devoid of hassles.
12 April 2003
I met the doctor several times after the operation. I needed only one review but the doctor seemed to have taken a fancy to me. At times she invited me to her home. One day I asked her the reason why she was not angry for my having sex with my brother.
"I could see that your passion was great," she said. "Even if I thought what you were doing was something horrible I would not have told you not to for you cannot help yourself."
"You do not think it is wrong."
"It is against the law, and that is wrong. But if two people love each other with extraordinary passion that cannot be wrong irrespective of the relationship between them. Do you know of any married woman with children who falls in love with a man and wants to leave her family and go to him?"
"I know. My classmate's mother did that."
"Do you think it was wrong?"
"Yes I did then; especially because it made my classmate so sad."
"Now?"
"I have not thought about it. May be I will take a more lenient view."
"That woman should not be condemned. The husband, her children, and society should accept it."
"Later on that classmate accepted the change. When we her friends say harsh things about her father she would defend him saying that he could not help it."