"Do you think I'm weird?" Emma sat there staring intently into my eyes as if trying to pry my answer out by sheer willpower. My cheeks felt warm from my embarrassment, as I tried to figure out how to respond to her highly personal question. I mean, the whole story she had just laid out to me was of a very private nature, catching me totally off guard.
Let me backtrack a bit to fill in some of the blanks for you. My name is Brad. At the age of 42, I've had a fair amount of life experience. Emma is my younger sister, two years my junior, and has been married to Doug since right out of high school. They have a daughter named Nora who was born less than 6 months after Emma got married, confirming my suspicions that she had gotten pregnant. The marriage must have been a quickie fix for their situation.
We had been fairly close growing up, but never to the extent of the conversation we were now engaged in. Late Saturday afternoon she had called me - which was not unusual, because we keep in touch regularly, either in person, at family get-togethers, or on social media. On the phone, I could tell by her tone that something was going on, so I told her to swing on by.
Upon her arrival, I offered her a beer, before we sat down on the couch to talk. She took a moment to take a drink and gather her thoughts.
One thing I had always admired was how well she took care of herself. She was by no means a glamour model. Her beauty was totally natural, a glow emanating from within. She had stunning, jade eyes framed by a curly waterfall of amber hair with blonde highlights that covered her shoulders. She never wore much makeup - didn't need to, because of her nearly flawless complexion.
She maintained a cute, full figure with medium boobs, a slender waist, and shapely legs. Several inches shorter than me, I estimated she was about 5'7", or close to that. At the moment she wore a simple pair of jeans topped by a pale-pink, short-sleeved shirt which she wore untucked.
After toying with her beer bottle for a minute, she finally decided to tell me what was on her mind. She began tentatively, "Doug and I are having a lot of problems. It's been going on for quite some time."
She paused to look into my eyes. "I'm sorry to hear that, sis." I didn't know what else to say.
She went on with a wry smile, "Don't be. We've both decided to just do our own thing until we don't want to keep going any longer." She took a bigger swig of beer.
I wasn't sure what direction to take in our conversation. "Is there anything?... can I help?"
"Remember when we were in high school and we used to pick each other's brain about boy or girl problems?" I instantly thought back in time to recall all the discussions we had shared. When a boy acted a certain way, she would wonder, 'Why do boys always seem so cold when they like you, but won't admit it?', and other such trivial nonsense that kids have to figure out when they deal with the opposite sex.
Knowingly, I nodded. "Yeah. We came up with some pretty strange questions, didn't we."
"Those strange questions helped me out a whole lot, sweetie." She reached out to squeeze my arm. "Just so you know!" She looked down at her bottle and began to peel the label off. "U-uhhh ... " She obviously couldn't look at me to say what she wanted to. "I want you to answer me as honestly as you can, because... this may get a little awkward." She glanced up at me, waiting for my response.
This time, I reached out and touched her shoulder, offering her my support. "Anything, sis. You know I'm here for you, right?"
She placed her hand on top of mine. "I know. That's why I came over." She tipped her beer up to her mouth, draining the last of its contents. "This may take some time. Can I crash on your couch tonight?" She saw my questioning expression. "Doug is out of town for business, and I'd like to have another beer or three, if you don't mind." She waggled the empty bottle at me.
"Of course I don't mind, silly girl! I do have a spare bedroom, in case you forgot." Rising, I took her empty and went to get her another. When I returned, she was curled up in the corner of my couch, her shoes kicked off and her legs tucked under her.
She took the new bottle, quickly taking another drink. I could almost see the gears in her head whirling as she readied her next statement. "Did you and Bev ever get into any 'kinky' stuff when you were married?"
Whoa-a! Where in the hell did that come from? She couldn't miss my surprise as I tried to compose myself. Beverly and I had divorced a long time ago. That, plus the fact that Emma and I had never gotten into sexual stuff as we grew up. This was going to be breaking new ground between us. "U-uhh..." was all that came out before she jumped in to explain.
"I hope I didn't shock you too much. But, this has to do with some of the problems between Doug and I." She unfolded her legs and leaned toward me. "I know it's kind of personal and all, but... you're the only one I feel I can discuss this with that won't judge me."
I could tell by her expression that she really needed someone to confide in right now. I sure as hell wasn't going to say no. "You know I won't. You just caught me off guard is all." She took my words of consent as encouragement, sliding closer to me on the couch. Her hand squeezed my bicep once more, remaining there to knead it through the fabric of my shirt.
"Sorry about that. I couldn't think of any other way to broach the topic, but just come right out and say it." She smiled, laughing softly.
Smiling back, I started, "Kinky is a very big topic. Let me see..." I cleared my throat, thinking. "If you consider anal a kink, we did some of that." I took a swig of beer while I gathered my wits. "We did some role playing. You know... like playing doctor. Or, going to a bar and pretending to be strangers so we could pick each other up. Is that what you mean?"
She looked amused. "Sorta. Maybe I should ask you this." She removed her hand to pick at the bottle label again. "Did you try lots of new things? You know-to spice up your sex life?"
This one was easy to answer, "I think we did."
"Did she tell you her desires, and you also explored them?" She looked more intense now.
"Yes. But, she never made a lot of suggestions. She seemed to prefer to act upon my mine."
She must really be in a mood, taking another long drink. I've known her to have more than a couple of beers, but tonight she was drinking more deliberately than usual. She stood up, asking, "Can I grab another one?"