The Sibling Seduction Session: Afterwards with my Daddy
I was 19 and I was a mess. It was my older brother's fault, or at least I blamed him. We had committed incest. I wasn't just angry, I was amazed. How could my big brother be the one who taught me the difference between whatever I thought I was doing with my first boyfriends and really and truly doing it? I wasn't in love or anything with him. That really would be disgusting (yuck!), but something big had happened. I was confused and had no one to help me get my head around it, except for Daddy.
If you want to catch up, I described what happened in something I wrote earlier this year, The Sibling Seduction Session. Briefly, I was a trainee physiotherapist living at home with my mother, father and 34 year-old brother. We were very close, so close that we never referred to the fact that It was my parents' second marriage. Dad and Dick were step, but it never occurred to me as I grew up. Dick was just my brother.
In April, when I was 19, at the end of my first year in physiotherapy training, my mother got promoted at work, so my parents had to move to Brussels. My brother, who was 34, was about to leave for work as well. I felt completely abandoned, staying on alone in the family home. I am the quiet type and did not let my family see how upset I was, but I freaked and ended up having a surprising adventure with my brother.
About that adventure; I got persuaded by almost my first ever physiotherapy patient to be a market research interview subject on young people and fashion. The patient, Simon Pugh, was in fact a pornographer. He tricked me and my brother, Dick, into doing progressively more erotic things for his cameras until, inevitably, we fucked each other, me in the ruined remains of my school uniform! Worse, he convinced both Dick and that what we did had been our fault.
Simon Pugh was a real trickster. We actually apologised for spoiling his interview recordings, grateful that he let us (me) keep the payments. I remember leaving Pugh's studio without even showering, my cum-encrusted uniform scrunched in my bag with my brother by my side alternately apologising, implying that I should never have agreed to the interview or involved him in the first place (true enough), and reminding me that I had earned more than £1000. We were so naive.
Like I said, I was a mess afterwards. It's not every day you fuck your brother in front of a witness, who videos it. For about a week I stayed in bed, faking flu and a heavy period. Luckily the college year had just ended, so I did not have to go to the physiotherapy centre for the next month. My parents were attentive, but they were at work most days and accepted my claim that all I needed was rest in bed.
Dick and I avoided each other entirely until he vanished to take up his new contract, which was in Holland. As far as I was concerned, it could be on Mars. If you read my earlier story, you will know how unfair I was being to him, but I was 19 and no one had ever made me do and feel the things I had done and felt with my brother. The night before he left, he kept coming into my room to say his good-byes, but I faked sleep for so long that I actually did fall asleep. When I woke up, he was gone, having left a letter of apology and a box of things. I ignored both.
Alone, I lay in bed cursing Dick and feeling guilty (WTF!!) about messing up Pugh's market research and victimised because it looked like that source of income would now dry up. Not just that, my body ached all over and I really did start my period, enough discomfort to maintain a fairly monumental sulk.
But my periods have never been painful on the pill and, unless I concentrated, there was a kind of delicious frosting overlaying the aches. In short, I didn't feel as injured and betrayed as I tried to tell myself I was. For the first time in my life I also felt completely fucked. Whatever my conscience thought, my vagina was singing the Hallelujah Chorus.
It was terribly confusing. For example, I told myself I was too abused and too ill to get in the shower, but alone I secretly luxuriated in the feeling of dried cum on my skin and my matted pubic hair for as long as I could; until I had either to get clean or composted.
I have always tried to be honest with myself, so, in a few days things were pretty bad as I wrestled with my mixed emotions and poor hygiene. I needed to clean up or throw away my school uniform, but told myself I couldn't face doing it. I ended up hanging the stained garments in a dry-cleaning bag like Monica Lewinsky and kept taking it out to look at. If that doesn't say, 'conflicted,' nothing does.
When I couldn't put it off any longer, I took a long hot bath and ended up shaving my pussy until it was baby-bottom smooth. I told myself, I was cleaning away the past, making a new start, a re-birt, but I was really making my special place feel even more special. Afterwards I looked at myself in the mirror. I was still the same girl: five foot and two inches, eight stone (112 lbs), firm b-cup breasts, wavy dark brown hair and, now, a smooth little crack. It barely ached at all from what had happened last week.
Unable to deny that I actually felt pretty good, I went back to my room and opened my brother's letter. I cried as I read, because it seemed so beautiful to my over-wrought imagination. Judging by its contents he was as messed up as I was. He kept apologising and, then, returning to how beautiful I had looked and how he had not been able to control himself. We shouldn't have smoked the marijuana. Pugh should have been more careful and stopped us. And so on for three or four pages. It was in the last sentences that he finally stumbled on an argument that helped. "Anne-Marie, even though we don't have the same blood, I never thought of you except as my sister. Maybe (?), what we did shows that we were always meant to be close. If Mum and Dad hadn't met, maybe would have got married or something. I still love you, baby sister. I wish I could ask Dad what he thinks." My thinking, exactly.
It was very sweet and had me in floods of tears. The box contained a beautiful bracelet and forty or so neatly rolled marijuana cigarettes ("You might as well have these. I can get plenty where I'm going! "). Not having ever rolled one, I had no idea how generous that last gift was. In any case, I was not sure I wanted to try it again in a hurry.
I cried in part, because he had found a way for me to forgive him. Even if we felt like 'true' brother and sister, we were step and not blood siblings. My mourning had gone on long enough. I got his point and it offered an excuse. We were not committing incest so much as responding as we would if we had not grown up together, but had met as adults. Even though we were first and foremost, siblings, our lack of blood ties meant that we got hot for each other in that special circumstance.
It really seemed like my lucky day. I powered up my personal computer to send Dick an email forgiving him, and, just as I hit the send button, another message arrived from Pugh with two video files attached. The first was of my first interview in which I answered Pugh's questions about fashion, did some mild modelling and got as far as flashing my bra and knickers. The second was a full record of the following visit in which I changed into a school uniform, drank, smoked dope, and progressed from modest posing to full on fucking with my brother. Pugh's email explained all this in such diplomatic and dull language, that it somehow made his graphically professional record of our incest appear to be a lesson for all of us on the need to plan and roughly walk through scripts in advance to minimise similar surprises in future. My 19 year-old self never imagined we had made a porno, so I found his tone particularly reassuring.
Pugh explained that he would be comfortable sharing the first file with anyone (see The Sibling Seduction Session 1), he was less sure about the second. "Let me assure you, Anne-Marie that I hold myself at least as responsible as you and your brother for what happened. That is why I am glad that you were well paid, even though we cannot show the product to just anybody.
