Authors note; Few things here; first the mistake that I overlooked in 31? Well I guess I am not as detail conscious as I thought cause you guys came up with a few! Very humbling! The winning guess however, was Mark's Movado watch that disappears during sex and of course the fight. Reason I caught it, is said watch plays a part in a later chapter. Now onto this chapter; this one was a struggle on what to keep and discard, like some other chapters it contains some older things from a more "novelesque' work. I also had to decide between this and the next chapter what went where. I opted to make this one longer to not break the flow of the next one which is critical to the remainder of the series. Now I mentioned chapters back about how people would handle less erotica. After many said it would be okay and some even admitted to skipping or skimming it I now have many e-mailing to tell me the sex is hot and don't change anything.
I think this chapter is balanced well with a lot (and I mean a lot) of details of the story and a fairly long fun flashback. I emphasize fun because it's your last look at some. If you think SWB is dark to begin with, three of the next four will not be for the faint of heart. Well if I do my job anyway. Also; once again a lot of votes and comment on the last chapter! Thank you and please continue! Now one more thing this series has been going on awhile and several people have commented several times and been very supportive as I get towards the end I am going to do some "dedications" I mentioned people now "defending" the sex. One member in particular keeps telling me my scenes are the hottest on lit. Well I personally thought this scene is hot (I don't always's it is different when you write them) So I dedicate this flashback "The Dirty Dog" To one "MasterEarl" This one is for you my friend. As always thank you. Lovecraft68
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I sat there in Mark's office feeling as if I were trapped in a nightmare. Staring at a picture of my brother and I having sex, I told myself that I must have fallen asleep, this couldn't be real! The pounding in my head and twisting in my stomach however, confirmed my worst fear and that was that this was not a dream. I tore my eyes from the picture and looked over at Mark. My brother was sitting there watching me. Mark appeared to be strangely calm as if now that he had shown me this, some of the burden had been taken from him.
I looked back down at the photo of Mark fucking me doggy style and tried to say something. What came out was a sob that caught me by surprise. I let out another one and realized that I couldn't speak, after the sobs, all that came out were some dry gasps. I swallowed hard and tried to stand, I got part way up, and as the room began to spin fell back into the chair. Mark got up and quickly walking over to the bar, reached into the small fridge under it, and brought out a bottle of water. Coming over and kneeling down next to my chair, Mark opened the bottle and handed it to me.
"Take a few sips," He said softly. "But slow."
I took the bottle from him, and almost dropped it; my hands were shaking so badly.
"Here."
Mark wrapped his hands around mine, guiding the bottle to my lips. As he had told me too, I slowly took several swallows. I nodded and Mark put the bottle on the desk. I turned to look at him and tried to say something. Before I could Mark put his arm around my neck, drawing my head into his shoulder. I slid my arms around his waist and just let myself lean into him. Neither of us said anything, I couldn't and Mark I'm sure didn't want to. As I nuzzled my face deeper into the comfort of his embrace, Mark started lightly running his fingers through my hair. After a couple of minutes the pounding in my head subsided, and when I opened my eyes things were no longer spinning. Easing myself back from Mark I picked up the water and after drinking some more handed it to him.
Mark finished it then reached down to take the pictures.
"No," I said softly putting my hand over them. "I...I need to see them."
Mark looked like he was going to argue, but instead nodded and slowly made his way back around his desk where he sat down. Taking a deep breath, and summoning up what nerve I had left, I picked up the stack of pictures. I hesitated, then sliding the picture of me on my hands and knees from the top, looked through the rest of them. With each picture I felt another kick in my heart and a sinking feeling in my stomach. There were at least two dozen photos and although only the first two had a piece of paper covering them, the rest all had yellow post its attached to them with a nasty remark.
One photo featured me on my knees with Mark's cock halfway in my mouth, the attached post it reading;
'Here let big sis kiss it all better'
. The picture underneath it was the reverse; I was lying on a bed with my feet on Mark's shoulders and my hands in his hair as his face was buried between my legs. The comment to this one read;
'Here little brother, let your sister show you how the girls like it'
. As I went through the pile I noticed that they were obviously old; looking at our faces I would guess that Mark and I were in our early twenties. I stopped and shook my head at the next picture; I was on the floor with my back against the bed. Mark had my wrists pinned in his left hand and was pulling my hair with his right while he had his cock buried in my throat. This one was marked with the caption;
'Now that is no way to treat your sister!'
. The last photo was the worst. In it I was on my knees looking up with my mouth wide open and my tongue out, while Mark was standing over me jerking his cock off into my face. I could see splashes of cum on my lips and cheeks. The final message here was;
'I thought Megan was the one who did the painting?
As awful as the picture was I couldn't stop looking at it. There was something disturbing about it besides the obvious subject matter. I forced myself to focus my spinning head and really look at it. The background wasn't familiar at all, I knew it wasn't Mark's apartment at Mitch's, nor did it look like a motel room. The bed and the chair that I could see in the picture appeared to be pretty worn and the shade in the window in the background was torn. I had the impression that wherever it was, was pretty sleazy. I started wondering where it could be when I was struck with what was odd about the pictures; it was how close they were taken. Not only could I clearly see the cum on my face, but looking back at the one of Mark face fucking me, I could plainly see the tears on my cheeks from my eyes watering as Mark's huge cock was forced down my throat.
I tried to remember if Mark and I had ever set a camera up or taped ourselves. I didn't think so, but god only knew there were times when we were that age that we had been pretty wasted when we fucked. No, if we had ever taken pictures of ourselves one of us would have had to develop them and would have them. Obviously someone else had taken these, but whom? They had to have been right in front of us. I rubbed at my temple as I tried to maintain focus. Forcing myself to put the picture down, I finally let it flow over me what these pictures really meant; that my mother and father had seen them. That they knew that we had been having sex and that... No, that couldn't be, they had never said anything to me. I felt a glimmer of hope surge through me. Mark had somehow pulled the case out, meaning the pictures had never been delivered. I found myself staring back down at the pictures again. As bad as they were they had an almost hypnotic quality to them.
"They're like looking at a train wreck." Mark said quietly as if reading my mind.
I nodded in agreement. Reaching out I picked up the pictures and put them back in the folder so I would stop looking at them. I also decided that there was no need to spin my mind about the where, when and about my parents as my brother obviously had all the answers.
"So now you know." Mark commented as I pushed the folder and envelope back towards him.
Mark shook his head and sighed heavily;
"I told you Megan, something's are better off..."
"Mark, where the hell did these come from?" Before he could answer I added; "And who? I mean..."
"They came from Alex." Mark said leaning back in his chair and rubbing at his own red rimmed eyes.
"Alex?!?" I exclaimed in shock.
"Yeah Alex, Megan," Mark sighed; "Everything you said I was keeping from you is right here; a lot of questions but only one answer."
"So..." I paused to pull my thoughts together before continuing. "So this is why you were going to quit the trial?"
"Yup." Mark said simply.
I waited to see if he was going to volunteer more but as I stared at him he simply looked back at me. As I sat there it struck me how terrible this really was.
"That motherfucker," I snapped. "That asshole used to call you his brother, said we were family and he did this?"
"Winthrop was going to lose Megan." Mark began.
"But Mark! I mean this..."
I stopped as Mark put his hand up.
"Let me just explain it okay Meg? Winthrop and Alex went way back, their grandfathers were friends. They were both third generation Harvard boys club, spoiled little rich kids."
