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So, after twenty-five years of marriage here, I am newly divorced. The kids are all off on their own. The last five years being completely miserable. My ex-husband, Bill, and I absolutely detested each other. We slept in separate rooms in our home. When we did see each other, we went out of our way to cause tension for each other. Now with the divorce final, we ultimately sold our house. Although I was thrilled it was finally over, I was embarrassed that I was going live with my brother, Jim, in his two-bedroom condo.
Being single was scary, and I was terrified of being lonely and alone for the rest of my life. It had been seven years since I was intimate consistently and five years since I had sex. I had no appreciation for what to do with my life. He would check in on me, try to get me to live a little, and console me when I went through times of depression. We have always been close and supportive of each other.
Jim and I would have a Friday night routine of ordering takeout and watching shows we missed during the week or a documentary. We had the same tastes in TV shows, movies, docuseries, and we both were exhausted from our work schedules. On one specific Friday, Jim asked me, *quot;Hey Trish, how about we watch a movie instead of our normal TV night on the couch?*quot;
*quot;Sounds good to me. I'm exhausted and not sure I will make it through an entire movie. I'm going to get in the shower, then put my comfy clothes on. What's for dinner?*quot; I asked.
*quot;OK, Trish. I was thinking pizza. I was thinking about getting some beer too. Do you want me to grab you anything else while I'm out?*quot;
I had to think for a moment. Jim nor I were big drinkers. I liked a glass of wine here and there, so I decided, *quot;fuck it!*quot; *quot;Yes, can you grab me a bottle of wine? Ask the store to pick a good bottle, if you don't mind.*quot;
Jim was impressed, *quot;Look at you. Deciding to live a little, finally, good for you. Next thing you know, you'll be telling me to grab tequila.*quot; Jim was laughing, cracking himself up at my expense.
I like that Jim would talk trash, it was comical, and he had no malicious intent. It was his personality. I wasn't going to let him get the best of me tonight. *quot;You know what, grab the tequila, pussy. I'll drink you under the table, lightweight.*quot; Now, I was laughing.
Jim looked at me with confusion, *quot;You're serious?*quot;
*quot;Yes, I'm serious. Why? Are you scared?*quot; I asked.
*quot;HAHA, I'm not scared; A sip of wine, a shot of tequila, and you'll be down for the count. Tomorrow, I'll spend the day making fun of you.*quot;
*quot;Shut up, Jim. Go get dinner and the drinks so I can drink you under the table.*quot; When Jim left, I got in the shower and thought about how much fun I found our back and forth with each other.
As I put on my loose-fitting t-shirt and sweat shorts, I realized that I shouldn't have talked so much trash. I was exhausted and could've passed out at that moment. I couldn't let Jim be right. I had to at least have a glass of wine and a shot or two. I went into the living room, and Jim picked a psycho-thriller movie for us to watch while he poured us both a glass of wine and two shots each.
Without hesitation, I downed both shots immediately. I thought it was a good way to save face and keep my older brother from talking shit to me. *quot;Pass me a slice, please,*quot; I said without missing a beat.
*quot;Jeez, Trish. I guess you weren't just talking shit when you said you were going to live a little.*quot;
*quot;No, Jim, I wasn't talking shit. You're right; I do need to live a little. I'm done with the tequila. Drink your shots, pussy,*quot; I said as I pushed him with my foot while giggling the whole time.
Jim downed his shots while we ate pizza and drank wine. About a half-hour into the movie, the wine, tequila, and exhaustion were settling in on me. I decided to lay down on the couch and put my legs across Jim's lap, asking, *quot;you don't mind, do you?
*quot;To be honest, I'm too tired and buzzed to care about anything,*quot; Jim stated.
*quot;HAHA, I thought you were going to drink me under the table? You're such a pussy! Will you rub my feet, please,*quot; I pleaded?
To my surprise, Jim responded, *quot;Sure, brat.*quot;
Jim started rubbing my feet slowly, seeming unaware. I, on the other hand, felt amazing. Or maybe the exhaustion and alcohol had caught up with me. Either way, I lay there enjoying the tingling running up my legs. Jim asked, *quot;does that feel good?*quot;
I took a deep, slow breath and whispered, *quot;yes.*quot; Jim's hands started to move up my legs. Lightly running his fingers over my legs, suddenly going into a deep rub on my thighs. Even though my eyes were closed, I could feel my eyes rolling into my head from the sensations. As the rubbing continued, I felt his hand move to the inside of my thighs, slowly massaging, squeezing. I slightly parted my legs while my body tensed up. I didn't open my eyes; I was fearful of ruining the moment while feeling dirty by enjoying what was happening to me.
Suddenly, I felt Jim's escort izmir finger brush against my slit. It was brief, and at that moment, I believed it was an accident, so, other than a hushed moan, I didn't acknowledge it. I didn't want to make a big deal out of something accidental. Jim's hands continued to explore my legs, moving throughout my thighs. I heard Jim turn the TV off when I felt his hand move up to the elastic waistband of my shorts, slipping his hand into the top of my shorts, grazing right above my mound with his fingers. I did not move or say anything when I heard Jim whisper, *quot;Trish, you awake?*quot;
I didn't respond. Harsh reality started to impact me that we were both drunk, exhausted and acting out of control. I conspicuously thought if I were asleep, Jim would come to his senses, and this would be over. Jim slowly lowered his relentless hand when I felt his finger stroke my clit. I hated that I felt a lightning bolt travel through my body as he rubbed my clit. Although this only happened for a few seconds, I could have sworn it was hours. The sensation of being touched caused my body to inadvertently flinch, startling Jim as he quickly removed his hand from my shorts.
Jim went off to his bedroom as I continued to pretend I was asleep, so I slept on the couch. My mind was racing with what had just occurred. I couldn't process my brother brushing against my slit or putting his hands down my shorts to play with my clit. I was grossed out; by the situation and worried about how we were going to be capable of interacting with each other moving forward. My mind did not allow me to go to sleep. A few hours later, I went to my bedroom to sleep in my bed.
On Saturday morning, I was embarrassed and struggling to leave my bedroom. I did not want to face Jim. I finally got the courage and went to the kitchen where Jim was sitting, drinking his coffee. *quot;Hey, good morning. How'd you sleep?*quot; he asked.
*quot;Good morning. I didn't sleep great. Rough night, ya know?*quot; I didn't really know what to say in this moment.
*quot;As you probably figured out, I don't drink much. I hope I wasn't rude. I don't remember much beyond eating and drinking the shots and then the wine. Everything is a blank, probably why I don't drink.*quot;
I didn't know whether to feel relieved or furious over the fact that he was telling me he didn't remember touching me. I instinctively replied, *quot;No worries, Jim. You were fine. The alcohol affected me too. We should stay away from drinking. We're both lightweights. Probably better off not remembering.*quot;
*quot;Was I that obnoxious? Now I gotta know what I did. Tell me!*quot; Jim pleaded.
*quot;Trust me, you don't want to know. It's embarrassing...Actually, its humiliating. We still have to be siblings and live together.*quot; I said as laughed nervously.
*quot;Jeez, now I'm scared to know. I hope I didn't do anything stupid.*quot;
I could see the confusion and nervousness on his face. I was debating whether to tell him or not. *quot;Don't worry, Jim. We should let it go to save us both from the embarrassment.*quot;
*quot;Trish, I'd like to know what it is I did that was so embarrassing that obviously bothered you. I hope you realize that I would never do something that would cause you harm.*quot;
I knew Jim wasn't going to let it go. I was starting to get emotional about having to admit what happened. How am I going to explain that I knew what was going on and did nothing to stop it? How am I going to explain that I continuously ran last night through my head and enjoyed the tingly sensations it caused, even though it disgusted me? *quot;OK, Jim...You, umm, yeah...umm...put your hand...um...into my shorts, and...umm...touched me.*quot; There I thought, I said it, now what?
There was a brief silence that seemed to last forever. *quot;Trish, I did that? What the fuck! I am so sorry! I can't believe I did something like that. What the fuck is wrong with me.*quot;
I could tell Jim legitimately didn't remember what happened and was distraught over it. *quot;No big deal, we were both drunk, and I'm not mad, just embarrassed. Now we both know to stick to a glass of wine because neither of us can handle our liquor. Are we OK?*quot; I wanted us both to forget it ever happened. That's the only way we would be able to move on.
Jim looked relieved by my response, *quot;You're embarrassed? How do you think I feel? No more shots of tequila for us. Can we forget this ever happened, please? And, yes, we are OK!*quot;
For the next six months, we would spend our Friday nights ordering takeout, having wine, and going about our lives. Occasionally Jim would rub my feet for me with no inappropriateness.
Then, the pandemic hit, and everything went into lockdown. The first three months of the pandemic were chaotic. Not being able to go to work or go out and do anything became monotonous. Now every night turned into what we would normally do on Fridays. We settled into our new lives of being in the house with nothing to do on a day in and day out basis.
Jim's fifty-third escort izmir birthday was approaching, and I asked him, *quot;So, besides a cake, is there anything else you want to do for your birthday? I know, there is so much to choose from.*quot; I chuckled at myself as I tried giving a quizzical look. *quot;Well?*quot;
I could tell Jim was thinking when he said, *quot;Yeah, I want us to get shitfaced. I'm so sick and tired of being in lockdown in the house with nothing to do. At least then I can let loose and attempt to have a good time. I'm just tired of this fucking pandemic! I feel like I'm losing my mind and can't take it anymore.*quot;
For the first time, I could see the toll this pandemic was having on Jim. I could see him breaking down while trying to hold himself together. I hated seeing him like this, *quot;Fuck-it, we should get shitfaced today. We don't have to wait for your birthday. We don't have anything to do tomorrow. What difference does it make? Do we still have that big bottle of tequila? I know we got plenty of wine. But you need to cheer the fuck up. I hope you're not gonna cry or be depressed all day.*quot;
I could see Jim's face change from depressed to a smile. *quot;HAHA, I'm a happy drunk, I think. When I can remember, I think I'm a happy drunk.*quot;
Did he just make a joke about what happened the last time we got drunk? At first thought, I was offended. Then I thought, this pandemic has taken its toll on me too. I thought Fuck it, as I responded, *quot;From what I remember, you're a pervy drunk, smartass.*quot; As I walked away, I could feel him looking at my wide, round ass. When I got into my bedroom, I felt anxiety running through me. I was completely uncomfortable; I just wanted to try and cheer Jim up. It's been overwhelming living through this pandemic, but I felt like I may have opened a door or misled a conversation with him. Then I thought to myself, *quot;stop overthinking everything. He's your brother and wouldn't try anything like that again. I yelled out to Jim, *quot;I'm gonna jump in the shower and get into some clean clothes.*quot;
When I got out of the shower, I hurried into my bedroom. As I was drying off, I looked into my full-length mirror. Posing for myself, I had to admit, for a forty-six-year-old mother of two adults, I looked good. Yes, I had wide hips, but my ass was perfectly round. My tits were freakishly firm. Although I wish my thighs weren't as thick as they were, I had to admit, I looked good. I found my comfy clothes, a loose-fitting t-shirt, and my favorite gym shorts. I probably should have put a bra and panties on, but the shorts and shorts were so baggy that I felt it was unnecessary. I went into the living room, and it looked like Jim had started drinking without me. *quot;Starting early, I see,*quot; I spoke.
*quot;I had to; I'm so stressed out. Come have some shots with me. Let's get fucked up and forget everything that is going on in this world for one night, have some fun. Deal?*quot;
I agreed with Jim that it would be nice to forget everything, even if for one night only. *quot;YES, PLEASE! I've never wanted to get drunk more than I do tonight! Keep the shots coming.*quot; I downed a shot, then demanded, *quot;ANOTHER, PLEASE!*quot; Without hesitation, Jim poured me another one. As I downed that shot, I followed it up with a huge gulp of wine. *quot;C'mon lightweight keep up.*quot; I had already started feeling the effects of the alcohol, so I downed the third shot, filled my glass with wine, and sat back in the couch, putting my feet on Jim's lap.
Jim asked, *quot;I'm guessing you want me to rub your feet?*quot;
*quot;Yes, please!*quot; I whined.
*quot;How about we have a few more shots first? Then I'll rub whatever you want.*quot;
*quot;Haha! Are we negotiating now? How about one more shot, then you rub my feet?*quot; I was nervous that if I drank much more alcohol, I would be too drunk to know what was going on.
Jim smiled and said, *quot;OK, two shots, and it's a deal. I'm going to have about five while you decide on what you're going to do.*quot; And with that, he started downing shot after shot. Jim then handed me a shot and told me, *quot;Stop being a pussy and drink up.*quot; I downed the shot then Jim poured me two more. Telling me, *quot;Last two, I promise. Then I'll rub anything as I promised.*quot;
*quot;OK, Jim. I'm already shitfaced. No more for me after these last two. And all I asked you to rub was my feet.*quot; I downed the last two shots and followed it up with another big gulp of wine. Then I laid back and put my feet back on his lap. Jim lifted my legs and moved closer to me, placing my legs back down. My thighs were on top of his thighs.
Jim started rubbing my feet, and it felt amazing. I wasn't sure if it was because he was good at giving foot massages or because the alcohol had taken full effect on me. Jim would move his hands briefly to my legs, then trace his fingers back down to my feet. The more he did this without me saying anything, the more often he would do it. Each time, moving his hands closer to my thighs. I did not protest because I was comfortable, and it felt good. For the most part, I was aware of what was going on and didn't feel the need to say anything at this point.
I was feeling tired and ridiculously comfortable when I started to doze off. I was fighting to stay awake, but I knew I wasn't going to last. *quot;Jim, I think I'm gonna head off to bed. I'm dozing and don't want to fall asleep out here.*quot; As I said this, I attempted to get up, and my legs gave out on me, and I lost my balance. Luckily Jim guided my body. So, I didn't just fall on the floor and hurt myself.
When I collapsed on the couch, Jim started laughing. And asked, *quot;Are you OK, you fuckin lightweight?*quot;
I started laughing hysterically, *quot;I think I'm drunker than I thought. I don't think my legs are going to work.*quot;
I could not stop laughing, and Jim was laughing uncontrollably on the couch together. Jim asked, *quot;Want me to help you get into your room?*quot;
*quot;If you don't mind, that would be helpful. Otherwise, I'm gonna have to crawl.*quot; I said in-between laughing.
Jim took my arm, put it around his shoulders, then put one of his arms around my waist. Jim instructed me, *quot;On three, we stand up. One, two, three, let's go!*quot;
As we stood up, I felt Jim's arm wrap around me under my shirt, on my bare skin. I noticed it but didn't think it was odd. As we walked to my bedroom, I felt his hand slip down my shorts and grip my hip. *quot;Hey, perv, be careful. I can feel where your hand is.*quot; Then I started laughing again.
Jim said convincingly, *quot;I needed to get a better grip. I don't want to get blamed for you falling, lush.*quot; Once we were in my room, Jim sat me on the edge of my bed. *quot;Gimme a minute. I'll pull the blankets down for you so you can get under them.*quot;
I noticed Jim was using the bed to balance himself. I asked, *quot;Are you OK? You look like you're going to fall on the floor.*quot;
*quot;I'm drunker than I thought. Once you're in bed, I might just pass out on your floor for a little bit.*quot;
I felt bad that I couldn't help Jim more. We both overdid the drinking, but we needed to unwind. I offered, *quot;Just crash here until you feel better. If you want.*quot;
Jim responded, *quot;Thanks. That's probably a good idea. Just don't puke on me, please.*quot;
Jim pulled the sheets and blankets down and climbed into the bed. I crawled into the bed next to him, wishing my full-size bed was a bit bigger. Jim lay on his side facing me. While I lay on my stomach, facing away from him. I felt Jim put his hand on my back as he started to rub my upper back. I did not say anything because I thought it was harmless, and it felt good. This continued for a few minutes, and I had briefly fallen asleep. I woke up to Jim breathing heavily close to me with his hand in my shorts, rubbing my hip as his hand traveled over my ass. I was disorientated now and didn't say anything as he felt me up. Part of me was terrified, and the other part of me; wanted to see how far he would go.
I felt Jim move to a kneeling position next to me. I felt my shirt being pulled up as I clenched my teeth and eyes out of fear. Jim lowered his lips to my back and started lightly kissing and sucking down my spine while his hands traveled over my back and legs. Once his lips reached my lower back, I felt his body shift, hooking my shorts with his fingers as he slowly lowered my shorts down my thighs. Then Jim spread my ass cheeks apart as he buried his face between them, licking my asshole. I bit down on my lip so hard I thought I was going to bite it off as he continued his assault on my ass. I slowly started to lift my ass so he could get better access. As I did this, Jim positioned himself right behind me and started licking from my asshole, down my pussy slit, and back up to my asshole. My body was quivering. My hands were gripping the sheets as I let out a whispering moan, *quot;uuuuhhhhh...fuuuuccckkkk.*quot;
Suddenly, Jim stopped eating my pussy and ass. I felt him maneuvering on the bed, and my hips and ass were rocking back and forth, begging for the attention to continue. Jim started slowly sliding a finger up and down my slit with one hand, then used his other hand to grab my hair. Jim lifted my head, turning it to face him, telling me, *quot;Open your mouth.*quot; I did what Jim demanded that I do when I felt his cock entering my mouth while he gripped my hair, pulling my head down to the base of his cock. Jim's cock continued to go in and out of my mouth. I could feel it growing larger and larger. At the same time, his finger was rapidly going in and out of my pussy. My body was being violated in ways it never had been, and I was on fire. Then, it all stopped. Jim told me, *quot;Lay down on your back.*quot; Again, I did as I was told. I laid down with my knees arched, with my legs parted, looking up at Jim. Jim looked down at me, gripping the collar of my t-shirt, when he asked, *quot;Why is this still on?*quot; He then ripped my shirt completely off. I could feel my pussy pumping its juices out and drenching my bed. I knew what we were doing was wrong, but my body wanted to be ravished so badly at this moment that I no longer cared about right or wrong.
Jim slapped his cock on my lips, telling me, *quot;You want my cock, don't you, sis?*quot;