Two middle-aged siblings discover that the love of their lives is closer than they thought
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Chapter 01
Growing up with my sister was no walk in the park. Like most siblings, we fought like crazy, but we always had each other's backs when push came to shove. Whether it was a physical fight or a relationship issue, we were there for each other.
Ellen was two years older than me and had her circle of friends, and I had mine. We lived in two separate worlds, but sometimes our social circles collided.
Her boyfriend, who later became her husband, is an example. I knew he was a loudmouth braggart with a wandering eye. But Ellen was head over heels in love. She thought he hung the moon and stars.
It turns out my instincts were right. He was an untrustworthy philanderer. But despite all the hurt and betrayal, Ellen repeatedly forgave him.
I never understood her decision, but I admired her resilience. She was smitten, blinded by love, and she made her choice. And even though I disagreed, I stood by her side, supporting her through it all.
That's what siblings do! We may fight like crazy, but we're there for each other when it matters. No matter what. And that's precisely what I did for my sister, even if it meant swallowing my opinions and biting my tongue.
At the end of the day, family is family. And you stick by them, even when they make choices you can't understand. That's what love and loyalty are all about.
Chapter 02
As we grew older, Ellen and I naturally drifted apart, as siblings often do. Our gatherings for Thanksgiving and Christmas at her house became more about our parents than anything else. Sadly, I missed most of these due to my deployments to various conflict zones.
But we never wavered on calling each other on our birthdays. It didn't matter where I was stationed or which theater of conflict I served in; my sister always reached out. These calls became a bittersweet reminder of our aging.
Then, thirty years into her dysfunctional marriage, our parents passed away. I was between deployments, living on base, when my sister called me with the news. It was a solemn moment, but there were no tears. Our parents had been married fifty years and lived long and fulfilling lives. Mom lost her battle with cancer, and Dad passed away within days of her passing.
At that moment, I couldn't help but reflect on the journey we had both been on. Our bond as siblings may have weakened over time, but our connection through those birthday calls remained strong. It was a reminder that even amid chaotic deployments and personal struggles, we still found a way to reach out and acknowledge each other's existence.
Life has a way of reshaping sibling relationships, but small gestures of connection can bring comfort and meaning. And for that, I will always be grateful for my sister's unwavering birthday calls.
Ellen and I handled most of the funeral arrangements through phone calls. We agreed that staying at our parents' house before the services would be a good idea. Not only would it allow us to salvage any personal memorabilia before the realtors came in to clean up, but it also kept me away from her husband, whom I still detested. Plus, it allowed us to catch up since we hadn't seen each other in two years. It was a win-win situation for both of us.
Ellen picked me up from the airport, and we started catching up on the way to our parents' house. She updated me about her three kids - the older ones are out of the house, and the youngest is graduating college soon. I promised to be there for her daughter's graduation.
What struck me was she didn't mention her husband, Cain. When I brought it up, she answered through gritted teeth. Over the years, in our phone calls, she had told me about his constant cheating and how it took a toll on their marriage. And this time, with everything going on it her life, it seems like his latest betrayal hit her harder than ever.
His cheating started early in their marriage and continued throughout it. Ellen thought she could change him, but he continued his infidelity. And every time he got caught, he'd promise it wouldn't happen again. But it did; it always did! He even had affairs while she was pregnant, vulnerable, and in need of assistance.
For thirty years, she always found an excuse to stay with him. I knew deep down it was because she loved him despite all the emotional abuse he put her through. It's something many women in similar situations go through - the constant rationalizations for why they shouldn't leave, almost like going through the five stages of grief.
First, she denied he could cheat on her. Then, she made a bargain that they would work on the marriage if he stopped cheating. But when she found out he had lied, anger and depression followed. And now, after all these years, she's accepted that this was the life she's made for herself.
Seeing her go through this was heartbreaking, but I was always there for her. I hoped that one day, she'd find the strength to leave and find happiness on her terms.
Chapter 03
My sister had gained a few pounds since the last time we met. She was wearing a sweatsuit that was a bit too small, which accentuated her curves. Ellen was never a small woman and she carried the extra weight in her chest and backside, which had become quite voluptuous.
I observed this as we exited her car at our parents' house, and she struggled with the keys to unlock the door. Although we had gone through the typical childhood phase of show me yours, and I'll show you mine, it never went further.
"It feels strange being here."
I sat my roll-on bag down and turned slowly, taking in the home where I grew up. I had not been in it a dozen times in the 30 years since I left. It was not because of hostility between my parents and me. It was logistics. Ellen was closer to the airport, and it was easier to see them there than to drive another hour south.
"It feels the same to me. But then, I haven't been gallivanting worldwide, fighting endless wars."
I refused to take the bait. I enlisted in the army out of high school in a proverbial effort to make a man of myself. I discovered that it was like any other job after a few years.
There were assignments I hated and others that at least weren't objectionable. Sometimes the boss was an asshole, and sometimes a great guy.
The Army gave me training, lifetime medical care, a respectable pension, and there was no chance of it going out of business or getting bought out.
I became a lifer. I was 48, E8 with 30 years of service, and considering retirement. A career soldier's assorted bump, bruises, broken bones, and other wounds were taking their toll. I was fit but feeling my age.
"What are we going to do with all of their stuff?"
"Most of it can go to Goodwill," Ellen said, "the rest we can toss. I arranged for a real estate agent to bring in a clean-up crew and list it for sale."
"Let's eat, then assess what needs to be done. We can make a list and work off that."
I was accustomed to giving orders and Ellen reacted to my premptory tone.
"Yes, sir, sergeant sir!"
Ellen gave a poor approximation of an E1, snapping to attention and saluting. Never mind that you don't salute an NCO. She tried to spin on her heels, overbalanced, falling backward into my arms.
Her 200 pounds knocked me off balance, and we ended up on the floor with her on top and me on the bottom clutching at two handfuls of big soft titties.
"OUUF!"
"Jesus, Ellen! Are you okay?"
I squirmed, trying to push her off, unintentionally causing my cock to grind into her ass.
"I think so," she said, gasping, "But I think I'll stay in this position for a while. I haven't had this much action in years."
"You're terrible! Get up!"
I reluctantly released one big jug and used one hand to slap her thigh. The sound and feel of flesh slapping flesh startled me. Ellen's fall caused her sweatpants to slip down around her hips. They were trapped between our bodies. My cock was pressed against the crack of her ass through her thin cotton panties.
Ellen rolled off me and to her knees. The sweatshirt drooped, exposing cavernous cleavage and a serviceable white cotton bra. The sweatpants were around her hips, revealing panties that matched the bra. When she scrambled to her feet, I glimpsed a hairy thicket outlined by her panties between her legs, running up her belly.
"Okay! The fun is over," she said, pulling up her pants. "Let's work on that list!"
Chapter 04
We spent a long, sweaty afternoon dragging old boxes of clothes, photo albums, and the like out of the attic. We also attacked the closets and dressers, assembling several mounds of flotsam and jetsam of two lives; most were going to Goodwill. The rest was left for the house cleaners to dispose of.
