My twin sister Gemma was back home for the first time since leaving to live abroad eleven years ago. She had become a widow at the age of thirty-four after ten years of a mostly unhappy marriage. She'd started having problems with her husband after only two years into the marriage and things became progressively worse as the years went by until it reached the point where they hardly ever spoke to each other though occupying the same house. At the insistence of his wealthy family, his corpse had been brought back home for burial. Gemma was here for the funeral and to tie up property interests of her husband which his family had already vowed to fight her for.
The union hadn't produced any children, for which her husband blamed her, accusing her of being barren. Her in-laws also, who had never liked her because they didn't consider her of equal social standing spared no opportunity to hurl similar remarks at her. As it turned out they had both taken a fertility test three years ago which proved that Gemma was capable of motherhood but her husband was infertile. He never told his family, so the lies and accusations were still alive. Gemma had intimated to me that they hadn't slept together or had sex for two years prior to his sudden demise.
Two days before the funeral, just as it was beginning to get dark, we found ourselves sitting on the balcony leading out of my bedroom, enjoying the slightly generous flow of air. There were no houses opposite, only a playfield and as my apartment was on the top flat of a two-storey building we had all the cool wind that one could hope for on a day of broiling sun. It was the second day of her arrival and Gemma would be staying with me during her one month stay as I was the only sibling or close family still in the country. She was occupying the extra room that my two young kids, a boy and girl, used when they came here on their visits every other weekend. I was divorced.
It had just become totally dark when Gemma asked me if I still did weed. Before she left we would share a joint occasionally, mostly at parties. I still smoked, not as often as before - about two or three times a month, four at the most, sometimes going a month or two without smoking to keep myself in check. I told her yes but that I hadn't any in the house. I got into my car and left to go further into town for the weed.
I was back in thirty minutes. Gemma had already showered and was sitting in the two seater cane chair in her nightdress. It was a short, skimpy and cleverly cut, white nightie that barely covered her privates. Under the read lights on the balcony, her light brown complexion made even lighter from living in Europe for ten years, was a delectable sight for sore and any other type of eyes.
At five eight, she was three inches shorter than me, with the same slim, appropriately well-developed body; while mine was wiry, and ridged, her slimness was nicely rounded with feminine softness. She had tits that were a good handful with puffy nipples surrounded by large brown areolas. They were big enough not to be labeled tiny, but small enough to not be considered big - sparkling hazel eyes, a small, straight nose and small, full-lipped mouth. In other words she was a beauty. Her hair was worn in a frizzy afro.
We sat and smoked and chatted under the red lights, huddled closely together. She had her head leaning into my chest, her hand on my thigh. I had an arm around her back; my hand on her soft waist; it felt real good. I tried to enjoy the good feeling without it escalating into unwanted directions, but she was so damned beautiful, so soft and so sexy that before long my cock had grown as hard as a bamboo pole and it didn't help matters when every now and then she shifted and her hand brushed against it. To add to that she would, from time to time raise the leg on the far side from me and plant her foot bottom on the chair, allowing me a prime look at her lace covered crotch - which, of course, I took without any reservation.
Eventually she brought her arm up and around my neck so that her medium sized, puffy breasts were pressing into my side, and whenever she swatted at the growing number of mosquitoes the added bumping of her body against mine felt like sexual heaven. I thought it would be nice to sleep with the desirable creature in my arms. I spent more than fifteen minutes building up the courage to put that idea to her.
"I miss you so much Gerry," I heard her softly whisper.
Immediately following her words she raised her head, turned her face and kissed me gently on my lips. Instinctively my tongue pushed forward but her lips had already been withdrawn. I felt cheated.
"I miss you too baby, very much," I said.
I did the kissing this time, letting the tip of my tongue swiftly poke her closed lips before quickly pulling back. I felt her fingers grip my shoulder with tender pressure. Shortly after she swatted at a mosquito and remarked that they were becoming unbearable. I suggested that we go inside to which she agreed. My heart beat wildly and I popped the question that I'd been priming myself up for, just as she had also started to talk.
"Would you mind if we slept together just for tonight?"
Her body stiffened and she spun around looking at me with wide open, amazed eyes.
"I just want to be close to you. You don't have to worry about what happened the night before you went away. I would never ever try that again."
She reached up and patted my cheek.
"I'm not worried about that Gerry, not at all."
I breathed a sigh of relief, and she started to giggle.
"It's just that I was about to ask you the same question in those exact words, just as you spoke. It made me jump, to hear them come out from your mouth"
We both started to laugh and then we got up, hugging each other as we walked off. I pulled back the glass sliding door that I had earlier closed because of the mosquitoes. I didn't have a net; I hate sleeping under nets, but the windows and bedroom door had mosquito mesh so I left them open for fresh air without the risk of letting in mosquitoes. After we entered the room I quickly reclosed the glass door. Gemma went straight for the bed and got onto it, showing a lot of thigh, some ass and some crotch as she lay down.
"You have a night light?" she asked.
"Yes - you can call it that; it's a red light, just like outside."
"That would be fine. I hate sleeping in total darkness, but the regular light keeps waking me up," she explained.
"I remember."