Elizabeth Finn - Brother’s Keeper

* * *

Our kisses turn desperate and passionate in no time, and as swiftly as I moved her to the counter, I lift her back up and carry her through to the dining room, settling myself in one of the armless side chairs. She’s straddling me with nothing on but an old T-shirt of mine. I lift my hips swiftly and pull my sweatpants down my legs and past my knees to drop to the floor where I step out of them. I pull her T-shirt over her head and take in her body in the morning sunlight. The houses are far enough apart, and lots of trees separate the yards, so I don’t have to worry about sharing her with my neighbors. I want her badly; my desire from so much time apart hasn’t diminished in the least, and it will be some time before I stop wanting to make up for lost time with her.

I make sure she’s not too sore to make love again, which she assures me she’s not, before standing her up, turning her around, and bending her over the table. I’m left with the most amazing view of her ass and the lips of her pussy at the juncture of her legs. I brush my knuckles over the lips, which sends a shiver through her entire body. I then dust kisses over her bottom and the backs of her thighs. When I ask her to spread her legs, she doesn’t hesitate before stepping her legs out to the side. She’s equally obliging when I ask her to spread her lips open for me.

Once finished, I have an incredible view of her waiting pink entry, and I can barely restrain my fingers from invading her body. But I manage to keep my fingers out of her and instead lower my mouth to her hole, plunging my tongue inside. I lick around the entry as she moans quietly, and when I finish with her pussy, my mouth finds its way up to her ass. I press her cheeks open and spit on my finger as I caress the tight puckered skin of her anus. She holds her breath in nervousness. It may not be the first time I’ve tasted her here, but it still gives her pause when I do.

I put my mouth on her anus and lave the tight hole with my tongue before pushing my tongue past the tight ring of her incredibly private entry. She moans again as she adjusts to my intrusion, and as soon as she relaxes to my mouth I push my finger past the tight rim of her anus and into the smooth, hot passage of her rectum. She tenses again, but as I push and pull slowly and shallowly in and out, she begins to adjust again to my new touch. I add more spit to my finger working the wetness into her hole, wanting to slide easily in and out.

And when I’m done with her bottom, I stand her back up, turn her to face me, and pull her back down to straddle my hips. She looks at me shyly, still weary but accepting of my close attention to her backside. I want her to ride me, and I want to watch as she impales her tight hole on my cock. I reach for her calves, planting her feet on the side rungs of the chair before clutching her hips and raising her bottom off my lap. She reaches back to the table behind her to stabilize herself, and as I use one of my hands to guide my cock to her pussy, she knows what I want.

She slides her entry down the shaft of my cock incredibly slowly as we both admire the beauty of our coupling. She hisses as she reaches her limit and pushes down hard against my body. She lifts her body slowly as I watch my cock withdraw from her passage, and she moves her hand down, spreading the lips of her vagina so we can see every inch of our joined bodies. It is exquisite. She is stretched taught around my shaft, and as the entry of her body meets the head of my penis it pops past the taught skin of her hole. I guide my cock once more to her entry as she pushes down over my erection.

After many more agonizingly slow and incredibly intimate penetrations, our rhythm quickens. But she continues to hold her body angled back from mine so we can watch the penetration together. Her breathing is speeding up, and I know she’s close to her threshold. As I approach my own, I pull her body to my chest and tilt my hips upward, sliding my ass down the seat. She rides me now, holding on to the back of the chair, and our bodies close, and as she continues to slide up and down my cock I grab the cheeks of her ass and gently but insistently force my finger into her still wet anus.

Her body freezes with shock and a gasp passes her lips, but I don’t withdraw. I leave my finger buried in her anus, demanding she fuck me. And she starts to move again. I wiggle my finger and thrust with shallow and gentle movements as she fucks my cock, and when she comes she cries out, clutching my shoulders—digging her fingernails into my skin. And as I come I lift her swiftly from my cock, pulling her body tight to mine, releasing streams of cum between our bodies as I clutch her close to me.

She snuggles into my neck, and I hold her tightly in my arms, and she speaks. “I don’t suppose you know where my clothes are?”

I chuckle against her neck before responding. “I tossed them in the wash this morning. They’re drying. I thought that was better than letting you wear a dress covered in cum when my family shows up in a while.”

“Good thinking… Speaking of your family, what is the plan today?”

“They’re bringing lunch and will stay to help unpack and organize. Sara’s coming, too, of course. They’ll go home tonight.”

“Will I go back tonight with them?”

“Not unless you want to. You can stay as long as you’d like.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

“I don’t want to go home yet.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear that. When do you need to be back?”

“I have an appointment with Anthony on Tuesday evening.”

“Then I’ll have you home by Tuesday afternoon. I don’t technically start work until next week, so that’s perfect really. We can spend a few days together—maybe explore the city or just stay in bed for a few days?” I pull her body from mine, smiling lasciviously at her before I continue. “Come with me.”

* * *

With that final direction, he pulls me up from his lap and leads me upstairs, grabbing my dress and underwear from the dryer as we go. He leads me to the master bath and starts the bath running. He lights the candles already on the bathroom counter and closes the door. We retreat to our favorite quiet place together, holding one another in the warmth. We have an hour until his family will arrive, and we take every last moment of that time.

As he zips me into my dress while I fix my hair in the bathroom mirror, he leans to my ear and speaks my most favorite words in the world. “I love you, Rowan.”

And I tell him the only thing in the world he needs to hear. “I love you too, Logan.”

We rush downstairs to meet his family and start the long hard chore of unpacking Logan’s new life—a life that most definitely includes me. Forever.

Five years later.

As I enter the studio, I see her helping a small girl of nine or ten find her position on the handrail. I know her body more intimately than any other person in the world, and the slight swell of her belly is likely imperceptible to anyone but us. She’s now made it past the first trimester, and come springtime we’ll be meeting our child for the first time.

Rowan immediately told Sara while I listened in on the other line. We swore her to secrecy, knowing it would be a minor miracle if she managed to keep her silence until we were ready to tell my parents. But she managed it, at least as far as Row and I know. Sara is now in medical school in Seattle and is kept busy by her education. She talks to Rowan every week, and we see her as often as her schedule will allow. I’m usually blown off as soon as Sara arrives, and I don’t get my hands on my wife until a few days later when she leaves again for Seattle. Sara has already started to buy everything baby and shows up with bags full of clothing and bedding and anything else she can get her hands on. It’s all fine and good as long as we have a girl, which Sara apparently believes we will, given the overabundance of pink.

We plan to tell my parents when they arrive in a few weeks to spend Christmas with us. Sara will, of course, be there as well, and I might have to tape her mouth shut until we can get the good news out.

When Rowan sees me enter the studio she smiles as she catches me watching her. I love her as much today as the first day I realized it so many years ago, and I know, without any doubt in my mind, she loves me as well. It took a long time for me to trust that she wouldn’t change her mind, but she convinced me … just as she’d promised she would. She chose me, and I understand now that there was never any concern she wouldn’t.

Her four years of college were a challenge for us both. She was always busy with practice and performances, and I was immersing myself in my new career. It was exhausting at times, but we were always there for each other to share the experience. We married the summer between her freshman and sophomore year, simply unable to stand living apart any longer. Sara was her maid of honor, and as my mother cried her ever eager-to-fall tears, my father beamed at us. They love her as much as I do. She’s been a part of this family since the day she showed up, dirty face, tangled mess of hair, and poorly clothed, with Sara one afternoon after school.

With our marriage and her moving in permanently came a considerable commute for her, but she wanted to stay in the house I’d bought to be close to her. She preferred to be in the home that became ours, and my bed, every night, suffering the long drive every morning.

When she graduated, she suggested it might be time to consider Colorado again. And we settled into a beautiful secluded cabin on a small lake just outside of Evergreen, a small mountain town outside of Denver, a few months later. She gave me back the dream I gave up for her. I stayed in public service in Denver’s DA’s office, and she opened a very successful little studio in Evergreen.

And now as she ushers the last of the kids from the studio to their waiting parents, I pull her into my arms and kiss her passionately, pushing her body up against the wall of mirrors and the railing that lines the wall. My hand finds the railing, and at its touch I’m taken back to the first time I made love to her here. I now have many memories of this railing, but that first time, only days after we bought the studio, is my favorite. She was nervous about opening, and I wanted nothing more than to take her mind off her worry. I made love to her, pounding into her from behind with the fabric of her leotard pulled to the side, exposing her vagina to me. Her eyes watched me in the mirror as I took her body vigorously. I had only just left the office, and my suit pants were around my ankles and my jacket tossed on the floor. We came together as her tension melted away. She has given me every last inch and every last entry of her body many times over, and I know I will never and could never tire of her. She is made for me, and I for her as well.

She told me once that when she was with me she felt like the beautiful woman she never thought she’d be. I can’t imagine what could ever make her think she wasn’t beautiful enough for anyone, least of all me. She’s the beautiful one. The most beautiful one in the world to me.

The End

Elizabeth Finn is an Iowa native, where she lives with her husband and son. By day, Elizabeth is a Human Resources Specialist, but by night, she checks her professionalism at the door and immerses herself in the world of writing erotic romance. Look for more to come from Elizabeth Finn.