Pete....
My name is Pete, and this is the story of how my younger sister and I ended up as lovers. I know incest is a very dirty word for what is supposed to be a very dirty act, but when the act occurred it felt far from dirty. In fact, it seemed completely natural.
I was 40 at the time, now 42. Trisha, my sister was 36, now 38. I have never married, choosing a lifelong bachelorhood. Trisha married at 25, divorced at 30, and decided to stay single afterwards. She was unable to have children, which was a deciding factor in her divorce. I lived in southeastern New Mexico's Pecos Valley. I grew up in the area, and after moving around for a bit, decided to settle down back in my hometown.
Trisha was the type of kid who could not wait to graduate high school and move away from our small hometown. She settled on college at Duke, and stayed living on the east coast, eventually settling in a suburb of Richmond, Virginia. She was an analyst for a marketing firm, while I had a career in financial services. I got my start after college in Denver, and once I made a substantial amount of money slaving for others, I semi-retired to my hometown and day traded my way to a very comfortable lifestyle.
Trisha and I rarely saw one another, mostly at Christmas and if one of us happened to be in the other's area. I travelled quite a bit, mostly by myself, and had a goal to see every country on my travel list eventually.
When I was 32, my father died from a massive coronary, and I became my mother's primary support system. She had Lupus and was ill, and taking care of her doctor's appointments, etc. took up a vast amount of my time. Trisha flew in for a week during our father's funeral, and went two years before she came back for Christmas.
A couple of months after that, our mother passed, mostly from a broken heart after our father's passing. Trisha flew in and stayed for two weeks until we settled the estate. We both received sizable amounts from the life insurance and savings, and we did a quick sale on the house as neither of us wanted it.
After the funeral, Trisha went home and we went almost 6 full years without seeing one another. We e-mailed and made the occasional phone call, but we drifted apart, two people alone in a large world. We had no aunts, no uncles, no cousins, and our grandparents were all gone as well.
I had returned from a trip to Australia when I received a call from Trisha, who asked if I was home. I told her I was, and she said she would be by my place in 15 minutes. She had flown in after seeing my Facebook page announcing my return home.
When the doorbell rang, I opened and saw my sister, who looked like a lost soul. I hugged her and brought her inside. After a quick tour, she brought our old snarky sibling relationship back.
"Are you sure the reason you never married wasn't because you are gay?"
"What?"
"Your house....way too pretty for a straight guy," she said.
"I paid a very expensive, very beautiful interior designer a lot of money to make it this way. And before you ask, yes, I boned her also. Not gay, never have been, never will be."
"I see," she said. "Hey, can I stay here for a while?"
I was a little taken aback. "Sure, but can I have an idea for how long?"
"Couple of weeks, maybe?"
"No problem, I have plenty of room. Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really, at least not yet. I just need an escape."
I left her alone, but helped her unload her bags from the rental car and to her settled in one of the spare rooms and showed her where everything was.
"We can return the rental tomorrow and you can drive the car or the truck," I said.
"I don't want to be a bother," she said.
"No worries. Two cars, one butt," I said, pointing to my ass.
Trisha.....
I flew into the airport and rented a car. For whatever reason, despite years of being alone far away from home, I was drawn to my brother's house. I made a last minute decision to get out of town, and my final destination was the last place I thought I would run.
Though hard to admit, I have always been a 'want more' type of person. My parents were well-off and always provided very well for my brother and I, but if one of my friends had a nicer brand of clothing or a nicer car, it drove me crazy. I just wanted more, which led me to graduate with high honors and on to Duke. It led me to be the youngest VP in the history of my firm, and it led me to overachieve no matter what I did.
After my father died, I tried to go away and stay away, though it had nothing to do with him, my mother, or my brother. In fact, it was because of my own issues that made it difficult to face my family. After my mother died, I left with the intention of never coming back.
So, my issues? It's difficult to put it in words because of the contradiction between what I was professionally and what I had become privately. In my drive for success, I had sacrificed a lot, including my marriage. My inability to conceive had been a contributing factor, but my selfishness was the final nail in the coffin.
After my divorce, I was hesitant to date, but eventually got back in the game due to loneliness.
After a few unsatisfactory experiences, I met Gavin. He was sophisticated and worldly, and we quickly fell into a torrid affair. As time went on, I didn't realize what was happening until it was too late. I had gone from a self-confident, strong woman to....well....a submissive sex slave.
It didn't happen overnight, but the more he took, the more I gave. In my professional life, there was no hint of my sexual nature, but it consumed me and my life away from work. Make no mistake, I was a very willing participant, and very satisfied, until I saw my family.
The last trip I made home for my mother's funeral was when I realized that despite being infatuated with Gavin and the sex we shared, I was embarrassed. Though I took responsibility for my success, I had to admit my family made it all possible. I was nurtured and supported by my parents and my older brother, always encouraged. If I struggled in school, my brilliant brother would tutor me patiently until I mastered the subject. My parents were my biggest fans no matter what I did, and it was that unconditional love and support that made me ashamed by my lifestyle choices.
After a little over 5 years of Gavin, I finally broke free. I had tired of the deviancy, and my choice was to run to ensure he could not exert his control and make me change my mind. It was that which made me run home to the safety of my big brother.
Paul....
