I Am My Brother's Keeper

I protected my younger brother his entire childhood. I thought that would change when we got to be adults but it didn't. In fact the most important protection I ever gave my brother was after he'd married. I'm Will Grimes, thirty years old at the most critical point of this tale. My brother Jimmy is two years younger. I was always big and strong for my age, and had a daring mindset. I guess I don't have most of the genes that prevent people from doing risky things. Since I was big and fearless after I beat the shit out of the kids in my first four fights in school – three of my opponents were significantly older than I was – I was never really challenged again. The only guy tougher than me in the entire area, Brett Hogan, was one of my best friends, and we never did anything more than playfully wrestle. Jimmy is the opposite of me in many ways. He is of average size and has the most pleasant, kind, disposition of anyone I have ever met in my life. While we have facial features and coloring in common (both favoring our mother) my personality is "killer," his is "compassionate." I'm a fighter but he avoids confrontation at all costs. Jimmy has lived "kind and gentle" his entire life. When he was six years old he cried on and off for a week after he saw a crow steal a baby robin from its nest. When he was in sixth grade he set up a program to get school supplies for poor kids in the district, a program still in existence today. When a freshman in High School he started a school-wide campaign to put together care packages for troops serving oversees. In summers during High School and college he worked with charities restoring and building homes for people displaced by floods. Whenever a member of the family was down Jimmy would comfort them, tell some jokes, give them a hand-made present, or otherwise cheer them up. The world is a much better place because of Jimmy. Despite his winning personality, because he is so meek the only reason that Jimmy got through school without being bullied was because everyone knew that if they messed with him I'd kick their ass. I only needed to actually do that once, when he was a freshman in High School and two thug sophomores picked on him. That wasn't one of the four "fights" I referred to earlier since this wasn't really a fight but a massacre, ending up with me suspended from school for a week and the two thugs in the hospital for two nights. While I loved Jimmy more than anyone else in the world the rest of my family was just so-so. My father was basically an uncaring boor; at least he was a good provider of material things. My mother was a buxom, feisty, hot-blooded vamp. While she did most of the things that a mother should it was always clear that she came first, the kids second, Dad third. She was also beautiful; what she ever saw in my relatively plain looking father I never knew. Although my parents had their share of arguments it normally wasn't tense around our house because my mother's temper usually fairly quickly backed my father down. That wasn't the case, however, on one of the most unforgettable days of my life. I was a junior in High School serving the last day of my week-long suspension for massacring the two thugs I mentioned earlier. I was in the basement weightlifting when my parents both came home for lunch, as far as I knew a highly unusual event. They likely forgot that I was home on suspension since they both had been at work the entire time the first four days of my "sentence." As soon as both were there a heated argument started. My father had found out – exactly how I was never sure since that part of the argument was both technical and garbled – that Jimmy was not his biological son. While I was shocked that did explain a lot about the differences between him and me. My father called my mother every name in the book; she cried hysterically, and for the first time in my memory she was not giving as well as she was getting. I just listened at the door from the basement to the kitchen, having decided not to reveal my presence, until my father started screaming about how he was going to tell Jimmy that he was a bastard, in addition to all of their friends and relatives. When I opened up the door and walked into the kitchen my parents turned ashen. "Hey, Dad," I said as calmly as possible. "I really don't think that you should do that. You know how sensitive Jimmy is. You both need to swear to me that you will never, ever, tell him, or anyone else where it could get back to him." "You have no fucking say in this," my father screamed at me. "Butt out." "Dad, I insist; don't tell him, or let him find out. I mean it!" I replied having great difficulty maintaining my cool. "Or what, asshole," my father smirked. In a flash, before I could even think, I was on him. I put one arm under his chin and with the other pinned his shoulder against the wall. Even though he was my size I had twice his strength and "attitude." I had never been physical with any member of my family before, but they all knew how tough I was from visits to the superintendent's office after my fights. "Let me make this clear, Dad. If you tell Jimmy or let him find out I'll kick your ass, plain and simple," I told him, as forcefully as possible. "Understood?" He nodded, I released him, and as he stormed out of the house yelled to my mother "I'm not done with you, slut." I turned to my mother and said "Mom, make sure that Jimmy never finds out." Through her tears she said "I promise." We didn't see my father for a week. My Mom told Jimmy that he had to go on an unexpected business trip. When my father returned, in Jimmy's typical manner he threw his arms around him and said "Dad, I really missed you. I hope you don't have to go away for a while." That, combined with my mother and I being as pleasant to my father as we could be, seemed to diffuse the situation. A week later my parents went on a trip together – the first time just the two of them did that I could remember – and when they came back from it things were more upbeat around our house than I could ever remember. I noticed that my Mom was no longer her number one priority – my father was. I got the impression, confirmed by noises coming from the master bedroom that I had rarely heard in the past, that my mother was fucking his brains out, and any way that he wanted it. Speaking of fucking, I did my share in High School and college. Definitely my most memorable partner was Abigail Britton; everyone called her "Gail," never "Abby." She was in Jimmy's class, though old for grade, and maybe the biggest flirt in the school. She had a slightly above average face and a killer body. On a scale of one to ten her face and hair were probably a six, maybe seven; her body was a 9.99999. Her personality was close to zero – she was tawdry and snarky, and acted like her shit didn't stink. When I was a 19 year old senior and Abigail an 18 year old sophomore I had the pleasure of nailing her twice at the end of the school year, and once during the summer. She had been coming on – in her inimical insufferable manner – to me in a geography class that we had together, including by flashing her beaver at me on two occasions. We both also had last period gym, required at our High School in those days, although the guys and gals were separated. When gym class was over on a Friday and everyone else was clamoring to get out of school as fast as they could, I went behind the partition between the girls' and boys' parts of the gym, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her into the divider curtain. "Gail, it's time to put up or shut up," I murmured as I drew her close to me, planted a fat kiss on her, and mauled her gigantic boobs." "Assuming you can get little Willy up," she snickered after I broke our kiss, "will you give me a ride home afterwards, Grimes?" "Sure will," I chuckled, "but you won't be able to walk right for two days; I hope you don't have any hot dates this weekend." "You're a conceited fucker, aren't you," she sneered. I didn't want to talk to her, just fuck her, so I led her up the back gym stairwell to the wrestling practice area. That area was deserted since wrestling season was long past and wrestling was not part of the gym class curriculum. By the time that I had grabbed two mats from the top of a stack, threw them on the tile floor, and turned around Gail already had her gym suit and exercise bra off, and was reaching for her panties. I was so excited that despite her head start I was naked by the time that she flipped her panties to the side. The woman's naked body was even better looking than I had thought it would be. Her beaver was sparse with beads of sweat from gym class, her pussy lips full, her hips and thighs from a porno magazine, and her tits turgid even though they were massive. My dick saluted so quickly that it hurt! I immediately lay her on the double mat and went for her cunt with my tongue and lips. She apparently wasn't used to that; most guys probably just fucked her as quickly as possible, but it really turned me on to inspect and stimulate a pussy before porking it. Surprisingly the beads of sweat on it, and a slight musk smell emanating from it, enhanced my libido rather than depressing it. I was a whirling dervish in attacking her labia, clitoris, and G-spot. This type of attack may have been a first for her since she started screaming in pleasure. I had to break off my attack, crawl to retrieve her panties, and then tell her "Shove this in your mouth, I don't want the gym teachers rushing up here to see who's being murdered." Without hesitation she did as told, and I resumed my attack. I never had a sex partner climax with the ferocity that she did. She spasmed, jerked, and bucked, all at the same time as a first orgasm, then an even harder second orgasm, hit her. After I let up and her quivering finally ceased I put her on her hands and knees and buried my cock in one thrust. I kneaded her ass – also something unique in her experience based upon the pleasure groans clearly audible even through the panties in her mouth – while pounding her pussy with everything I had. My pussy whacking caused her mammoth mammary glands to swing wildly, slapping into each other with such force that it sounded like I was getting an ovation from a crowd. I bent over to watch the swinging, banging, orbs for a few seconds and it was so erotic that I immediately blew my wad, my largest to date. That triggered another massive orgasm in her, and by the time that I pulled out she was virtually comatose. I lay next to Abigail for about ten minutes, sucking on one tit while massaging the other. God they felt good! Unfortunately, then she started talking and this great piece of ass turned into an obnoxious twit, so I broke it off. I had to help her get dressed and after we showered in our separate locker rooms I drove her to her trailer park home, as she had requested. On the ride there she apparently tried her version of "sweet," which for most people would be "mildly caustic." On the drive to her trailer park Abigail did say over and over again that it was her best sex ever, but I didn't know whether to believe her. I started to think it might be true when she ramped up her flirting to high gear the next week in school Two weeks after our first fuck she told me that her sister's trailer would be available on Saturday night; I actually sprang for dinner before taking her there and fucking her three times that night. However, the pillow talk with her was disturbing, her personality did not start to "grow" on me, and I never hooked up with her again during the school year. The only other time I significantly interacted with her was two days before I left for college when I badly needed to get my knob polished. Although I certainly didn't want a "relationship" with Abigail, I will have to admit that the three times I fucked her were probably the most physically satisfying of my life, even if emotionally bankrupt. Because I didn't want a "relationship" with her I never returned the phone calls and emails she sent my way during the summer, and my first two years of college. Her attempts to communicate with me finally stopped when I started my junior year. During college I studied criminal justice, computer science, forensics, and – of course – female anatomy. I did fairly well in all of them, best in female anatomy although I never had a relationship that lasted more than three months. To afford school I worked as a bouncer two nights a week and during the summer. I learned a lot doing that. Foremost was that while I was tougher than 98% of guys, there were some dudes you do not mess with alone. One particular ass kicking taught me that in spades. Secondly, team work was necessary to diffuse the worst situations. Third, conversation and sincerity were often as important as toughness in dealing with difficult situations. I learned in college that a desk job wasn't for me, that I was clever and resourceful more than I was smart, and that the career that likely most suited me was being a bounty hunter. I teamed up with Bret Hogan, my tough buddy from High School, at that time a 6 foot 4 inch, 290 pound hunk of granite with biceps as big as tree branches, thighs as thick as tree trunks, and no gut. He was working some dead end job, and although he was not the sharpest tool in the shed he had everything, including the experience of three years in the Marines – that I needed to safely do my work. I provided the brains and muscle, and he provided muscle and intimidation. Bret and I were fairly successful, but I was doing all my own skip tracing and computer work, inefficient at best. After a year and a half we added Austen, a computer geek I knew from college, as a skip tracer and computer expert, and six months later combined forces with Becca, an experienced cerebral female private investigator. By the time that I had been out of college four years the synergy established by our group made us very successful, and I was making more money than I thought that I ever could. We were all comfortable splitting the take 30% for me, 25% each for Austen and Becca, and 20% for Bret, since that truly matched our individual contributions, and working together provided double the pie to split up that the four of us working individually could obtain. We all made sure to establish a good relationship with the local cops, providing them with leads and never obstructing anything they were doing; it also didn't hurt that Becca was the Assistant Police Chief's favorite niece. At that time my Mom and Dad were still, surprisingly, getting along great, and Jimmy had graduated college and was making good money as a Computed Tomography Technologist at the biggest local hospital. Also, he had fallen in love. Here's where my story really starts. Who did Jimmy fall in love with? Abigail Britton! I couldn't fucking believe it! The sweetest, most compassionate and kindhearted person I knew in love with an obnoxious slut. When I first saw them together I was almost speechless for a full minute; my brain was incapable of processing the information. Abigail had changed somewhat, for the better, since High School. She had actually gotten a decent job as a cosmetologist, and cleaned up her appearance so that she didn't look like trailer trash, and she was not as surly. What hadn't changed was that 9.9999 body, although with her modern hairdo and makeup her face was now a clear 7. However, I found it difficult to believe that she had learned how to keep her thighs together around any guy who struck her fancy, or that she could be easy to live with. When Jimmy confided in me how serious he was about Abigail, in as gentle a manner as possible I tried to point out her past difficulties. I also leveled with him and told him that "She and I had intercourse several times." Jimmy's response, "I know that she had a reputation in the past, and she told me that you and she had sexual relations a few times. However, she's a changed woman and I know – and she swears – that she'll be faithful to me when we're married. Also, once you get to know her she really is sweet." Poor, clueless Jimmy, I thought. I wanted to believe that she had really changed, but I wasn't that trusting or naïve. My suspicions were confirmed when I heard about the bachelorette party sweet Abigail and her trashy slut of honor, Jersey, had planned. Jersey was the biggest slut in High School when I attended, even an order of magnitude bigger than Abigail, and clearly a bad influence. It really helped to be on a team with a razor-sharp female P. I. Becca was clued in to almost everything going on in our city. Also, Bret was dating one of Abigail's less-slutty friends and though Bret was not smart he was discrete and never told his girlfriend about my relationship with Jimmy. Brett only reported things to me – he didn't give out information. From Becca and Bret I got all the data I needed. Abigail and Jersey had planned to send Abigail off on her "chaste" married life by arranging a gangbang for her three days before the wedding. The participants were four low-lives from their High School days. While these four guys were not the lowest pond scum, they were just a notch above. Bret and I got the four guys together and had a "talk" with them. Since Bret and I were armed even if they could have handled us we were safe; however, they couldn't handle us. Only one of them was stupid enough to tell us to get fucked, and Bret hit him so hard that he actually left a "silhouette" in the wallboard he was smacked into. After that – and the fact that I gave them $50 each for a prostitute – there was no doubt that the four miscreants would do as we said. "Simply don't show up. Don't tell anyone that you won't ahead of time, and if questioned afterward just say that you got a better offer," I instructed them. Austen planted a GPS in the limo that Jersey had rented to take the bachelorette party bar-hopping after they got stood up for the gang bang. Brett, Becca, and I – in fairly decent disguises – tracked them the entire night. Our job was made a little easier when we paid a decent looking biker $200 to put the moves on Jersey and take her out of the picture. Abigail got completely shit-faced and groped, but the three of us were able to insure that she didn't get fucked, probably much to her disappointment. Jimmy and Abigail's wedding and reception were anti-climactic after the bachelorette party. The only disgusting feature was when Abigail grabbed my crotch while licking her lips at me when we danced at the reception. The rest of Abigail's family was on their best behavior since they knew that she was marrying up in financial and social status. After they had been married about two years I almost started to believe that maybe Abigail would be able to remain faithful to Jimmy. Abigail had toned down her flirting and wandering eyes whenever I attended any function that they were at, and they always seemed to be affectionate. Whenever Jimmy and I talked he seemed happy, and he was never good at hiding his feelings if he wasn't. At about the two year mark was when I got the first report of Abigail stepping out on Jimmy. Becca got the original tip, Austen did the necessary investigation, and on a slow day I went in search of actual proof. I was lucky. That very day during her lunch break I watched Abigail get in a car around the corner from the hair salon she worked at, kiss the guy in the driver's seat, and proceed to a nearby sleazy motel. I got good photos of the guy and using my charm and "court employee" badge – that looked like a cop's badge although I never said I was one – got his name from the motel register. The name was legitimate since he paid with a credit card. The guy's name was Sam Hastings. He was thirty, single, clean, nice looking, and a skilled carpenter; I was thankful that at least he wasn't a low life. In addition to being a computer geek, Austen was also an amateur thespian, and was well acquainted with makeup from college and Community Theater. In disguise, the next Friday night I followed Sam to what was probably his favorite watering hole. I made friends with him shooting pool, talking sports, and drinking his brand of beer. When he called it quits for the night I walked with him out to his car and Tasered him. I put Sam in the back seat of his car, injected him with a knockout drug, and drove him to Austen's house. Austen spent a good hour making him up to look like he had had the shit kicked out of him ten times over; when Austen was done if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes I never would have believed it was fake. Austen and I then posed and photographed Sam. Austen followed me as I drove to an isolated area and parked Sam's car only inches from the edge of a cliff. While Sam was still in the back seat I injected him with an antidote for the knockout drug so that he would have full cognizance when he woke up in about two or three minutes, and left a note under his car keys on the front seat. The note read: "Sam, if you ever so much as talk to Abigail Grimes again – let alone fuck her – you will end up the way you look now for real; that is if you survive the beating you'll get. A friend." I had copies of the photos of Sam looking like he was near death hand delivered to Abigail at work during her shift on Saturday morning with another note: "This is what will happen to any guy you fuck besides your husband!" Obviously that put an end to the Sam-Abigail hookups and scared Abigail enough for a while so that despite diligently keeping my fingers on the pulse of the situation for another eighteen months I had no further reports of suspected infidelity. Also, Abigail's demeanor seemed to have changed for the better when I saw her; she may have suspected that I was behind the photos delivered to her so she may have just been on her best behavior around me, I wasn't sure. A little more than eighteen months after the Sam incident I got a report about Abigail and another guy. While she had probably fucked Sam a half dozen times before I got involved, this time I think that I got notice right about the time of the first fuck, primarily because I periodically illegally monitored Abigail's cellphone calls. While I wasn't in time to prevent it, I did see her leaving the garden apartment of Jason McMurray about ninety minutes after her Saturday shift at the hair salon was over. McMurray was a very good looking but frail guy. Maybe he had a big dick that had attracted Abigail to him, but it certainly wasn't his muscle. I was afraid that if he was handled too roughly he'd be seriously injured or die. Becca had a devious plan. One of our good clients was "Doc-In-The-Box," a medical clinic about two miles from Jimmy and Abigail's house. The business manager there we considered a friend in addition to a client, and we had bailed her out of half a dozen jams with bad employees, unruly patients, embezzlement, etc., and charged very reasonable fees. A few days after Abigail's hookup with Jason, when I knew that Jimmy was working until ten that night, in disguise and pretending to be a health inspector Becca paid Abigail a visit. "Are you Mrs. Abigail Grimes?" "Yes. How can I help you?" "I'm Ruth Bader from the Health Department. I'll get right to the point. There has been a gonorrhea outbreak and we're notifying people who may have had sexual relations with an infected person and asking them to get tested. Do you know a Jason McMurray?" According to Becca, Abigail's face turned ashen. "Uh, well... yes." "He is one of the suspected carriers," Becca told Abigail with real concern in her tone. "I have no reason to pry into your sex life; I just want to advise you that you really need to be tested if you have had sexual contact of any kind with Mr. McMurray. Here is a coupon entitling you to a free, confidential, test at a local health clinic, Doc-In-The-Box, on Pinegrove Avenue. I suggest that you use it. If you have any questions you can call me at the number on my card and leave a message." As Becca handed Abigail the coupon and a card with a secondary cell phone number on it Abigail almost collapsed. The coupon said to specifically ask for our friend, the business manager, and to tell the receptionist it was about the "Free test." The very next day a distraught Abigail appeared at Doc-In-The-Box. Our friend put on a lab coat and led her into an examining room, pretending to be a medical technician. She drew a small amount of blood, took a vaginal swab, looked under a microscope and appeared to be rattled. "It looks like you have contracted gonorrhea, Mrs. Grimes, but fortunately it is at a very early stage. I have to confirm it with your blood work but in the meantime here are pills for both you and your husband. Each of you should take two a day, with meals, for ten days. I'll call you when the test results come in and if the preliminary test was a false positive advise you to stop taking them." "But my husband can't know about this," Abigail pleaded, starting to cry. "Just work the pills into his food – they break up and dissolve easily. He'll never know." "OK," Abigail replied, somewhat relieved. "Can I give you my cell phone number to call me at; please don't call my home." "This will all be confidential, don't worry," our friend replied. The pills were sugar pills. Two days later our friend called Abigail and told her that she did have gonorrhea and to return to the clinic for a checkup the day after she took the last two pills. When she returned our friend pronounced her free and clear of disease. At my request our friend did actually have Abigail's blood and vaginal swab tested just to be sure, and fortunately she was free of STDs. The same night that Becca was paying a visit to Abigail, in disguise I paid a visit to Jason. When he answered his door I burst in, chloroformed him without hurting him, put duct tape over his mouth and hand cuffed him to a chair. When he came to I had a mask on, and a message. "Jason, why did you fuck Abigail Grimes?" After asking I ripped the duct tape off of his mouth. "Ouch! Uh, well, uh, to answer your question, I like her," he hesitantly replied. "Did you know that she is married?" "Uh, well, not really. She told me that she was separated and getting a divorce," he stammered, obviously terrified. "Did you know that she has gonorrhea?" "What? No, of course not. I never would have had sex with her if I knew that." "Let me make this easy on you, Jason. She is married, her husband thinks happily, not separated or getting a divorce, and she does have gonorrhea. You need to go get tested tomorrow. Regardless of the test results you are to have no further contact with her of any kind – no phone calls, meetings, emails, text messages, absolutely nothing. If you do have any contact with her, gonorrhea will be the least of your concerns – GOT IT?" "Yes, of course, absolutely," he mumbled, so frightened that he peed his pants. "I'm glad that you understand. I'm leaving the handcuff key on your patio. Wait until sixty seconds after I'm gone then drag your chair out there and get it. I don't ever want to have to come back to see you," I growled. "You won't have to, believe me," he squealed. That took care of the Jason-Abigail tryst, and hopefully many other possible trysts in view of the gonorrhea scare. There was still a major problem on the horizon. Its name was Jersey, who had tried to hook Abigail up with a number of guys. I felt that we really needed to get Jersey's bad influence out of Abigail's life. Fortunately she made that easy. Jersey had no marketable skills whatsoever. While she did turn a few tricks they weren't enough to make ends meet. The local police believed that she was a drug dealer, mostly oxycodone and other prescription drugs, but since she was a fairly minor player they couldn't afford to devote the resources to her that were necessary to catch her in the act. My team could. After only two nights of physical surveillance, and a planted bug in Jersey's trailer, we knew when her next "shipment" was due. Beyond our wildest hopes she was actually going to participate in the robbery of the drugs from a pharmacy with her "boyfriend" and a local hood. I alerted the cops to the planned heist, gave them the name and address of the pharmacy, the date and suspected time, and the likely participants. Fortunately the pharmacy was one where a break-in had occurred a few months ago and was actually already on a "watch list" so that the cops had a legitimate reason to stake it out without using the "tip" that I provided. The attempted robbery and capture went off without a hitch. Jersey couldn't make bail, already had a record, and had stolen thousands of dollars' worth of drugs in the heist. She was looking at five years of hard time, minimum, and no longer a threat to Abigail. The "gonorrhea incident" probably did scare Abigail straight, at least for a while. She and Jimmy had a little girl, Bethany, a year after the incident. They also had some good luck; on a lottery ticket that Abigail bought they won about $400,000 after taxes. Being the kind generous soul that Jimmy is he insisted that it be put in an account for just Abigail "in case something happens to me." Of course she went along with it even though I suggested that they split it. I really warmed up to Bethany quickly. Never having had a girl in our family I spoiled her every chance that I got. By the time that she was three she was tied with Jimmy as my favorite person in the world. That made me even more concerned when I got another report, just before Bethany's third birthday, that Abigail was likely up to her old tricks. This time the guy was a low life named Joe Marley. While I could at least see her attraction to the first two this guy was a thug with a record, and on probation. I decided that it was time for a come to Jesus confrontation with Abigail, and no more kid gloves for her lover-boys. As soon as Marley and Abigail entered a cheap motel room – that she paid for – Brett and I went into action. We literally smashed down the door. I hit Marley in the jaw with everything I had knocking him flat, then Brett dragged him outside. Abigail was putting her blouse back on as she looked at me with fear in her eyes. "Abigail, this shit is stopping now," I yelled. "I'll not have you disrespect Jimmy and Bethany again." "This is the only time I've strayed, Will, you've got to believe me," she moaned. "Don't give me that horseshit. What about Jason McMurray and Sam Hastings, and who knows if there have been others," I screamed. "What are you going to do," she shuddered with a deer-in-the-headlights look on her face. "Please don't tell Jimmy, it would really hurt him." "Suddenly you're worried about hurting him?" I laughed. "Let me tell you, slut, I'm going to make you do something to be sure that this shit never happens again since I know how difficult it is for you to keep your knees together." Glaring at her while intentionally exposing my Beretta, I laid it out. "You are going to enter into a contract with me. If you cheat on Jimmy again you will relinquish all claim to your lottery winnings and it will automatically go into a trust for Bethany with me as the only trustee. You will never let that account get under $350,000 without my approval. You will agree to psychiatric counseling. If you don't agree to my conditions, or stray again you will promise not to try for custody of Bethany or any other kids you have, and I will tell Jimmy about all of your affairs and get him the best damn divorce attorney in the state." Abigail went from looking scared to resigned, her eyes down. "If Jimmy does decide, with my encouragement, to divorce you I'll do everything in my power to see that he gets sole custody of Bethany, offering perjured testimony if I have to. Got it?" Abigail started crying. "I don't know if I can help myself," she sobbed. "I need more sex than Jimmy can provide; I hate myself for it, but I can't help it." "You better figure out a way," I said with steely resolve. "I'm having the contract drawn up and you'll come to my house to sign it next week, or the shit hits the fan." As I turned to leave I quipped, "By the way, in case you're interested, your fuck buddy Marley has had the shit kicked out of him and he'll never be around again!" In fact I knew that by then Brett had beat him senseless and left him with a bus ticket to Las Vegas and the message to get out of the city or he'd be killed – an empty threat but one that Marley was likely to take seriously. Within three days the word on the street was that Marley had left for Nevada, and had sold almost everything that he owned. When I had Abigail over to my house the next week after an attorney had prepared a first draft of a contract between Abigail and me I realized for the first time in my life that I had underestimated her intelligence and resolve. When Abigail arrived she was dressed smartly, and her hair and makeup were perfectly done. There was no doubt that her body was still in the 9.99 range even after having had a kid, and now that her look was no longer trailer trash I believe that 99% of heterosexual men would find her very attractive. I got us each a soft drink then sat down opposite Abigail at my kitchen table. "Here's my attorney's first draft of the contract I told you about," I courteously said, handing it over to Abigail. "Thanks, Will," she said smiling, touching my hand as she took it from me. "It looks like you went through a lot of effort and expense having this drafted," she said with a smile as she was reading it. "The attorney owes me a favor," I smiled back, "so it's just costing me tickets to a ballgame." "I know that this is a stupid questiont, but you really love Jimmy, don't you?" she remarked as she got near the end, this time with an even bigger smile. "He and Bethany are my two favorite people in the world," I replied with resolve in my voice. "I know that you have never particularly liked me, Will; why is that?" she continued, with a knowing grin. "Do you really want to know, and do we really need to have this conversation?" I asked. "I think it would be very helpful, Will," she said, pushing the contract toward me and again brushing up against my hand. "Be completely honest, because I'm going to be with you." "OK," I said after taking a deep breath. "Actually, in High School I didn't like you because I thought you were tawdry, crass, and slutty. Trailer trash, good for fucking and not much else. I tried to convince Jimmy not to marry you but he was in love with you. Because he loved you I decided that you must have some good qualities, so I re-evaluated." Abigail almost blushed – almost. "I believe, Abigail, that you're a much better person now than in High School. You're no longer cheap, you're affectionate toward Jimmy, you don't boss him around like a bitch, and from what I've seen you're a good mother. I can truthfully say that I 'almost' like you now. In fact I would like you if it weren't for you fucking other guys behind Jimmy's back, including giving him gonorrhea." "How did you know about that?" she asked, completely surprised. "I have contacts everywhere. Getting back to the issue, this contract is designed to change the one thing I don't like about you, cheating on Jimmy." "You know, you really are a fine person, Will," Abigail said with a different type of smile than before – one I couldn't quite place. "Jimmy has always been lucky to have you as his protector because as we both know well there are some battles he can't fight and you're the ultimate fighter." "I get as much back from Jimmy as I receive," I retorted, "maybe more. He makes me believe in people." "Yes, he does," Abigail laughed. "There is no doubt about that, which is why I love him." I bent over the table, held Abigail's hands in mine, and said "If you love him why can't you stop fucking around?" "Before any further discussion I need to tell you something else, Will. You are the main reason why I initially got out of my trailer trash life, enough to attract a fine man like Jimmy," Abigail said, very seriously. "What?" was my brilliant response. "When you rejected me in High School despite the fact that we had had the best sex imaginable I realized that I needed to change. Otherwise any guy worth having a relationship with wasn't going to be interested in me, even with fantastic sex. That started whatever metamorphosis I had," she replied with complete sincerity. "Wow!" was my next stellar observation. "Will, we need to have further discussions before I completely open up to you, so that we can reach an agreement. Just so that you know that I'm not stalling, or have some ulterior motive, I want you to know that I will be signing some version of the contract you showed me, although we likely need to make a few changes," she said, squeezing my hands. "In the meantime I swear, swear, swear, that I won't so much as flirt with another guy." "That's a good start," I smiled. "Tell you what, Will; tomorrow Jimmy is doing one of his normal charity stints from six to ten. Why don't you take Bethany and me out to dinner?" I was surprised by that, but any time that I could spend with Bethany I'd take. "Great," I replied. "When should I pick you up and where do you want to go?" "Pick us up at 6:15, and we'll go to Bethany's favorite restaurant." "Sounds like a plan," I replied standing up. Abigail stood up too and we chatted as I escorted her to the front door. When we got there she turned to face me, unblinkingly stared into my eyes, and then said in a sultry voice "Before we conclude our contract negotiations you're going to have to tell me if I'm sexually attractive to you, so think about that." She got on her tiptoes, kissed my chin, then turned and scurried out the door, her consummate ass jiggling back and forth as she went out to her car. "What the fuck was that?" I asked myself. Then I felt something at my midriff, looked at my groin, and saw that I had tented my pants. The fact that my body betrayed me did not make me happy. I took Abigail and Bethany out to dinner, as planned. Bethany had a great time, played herself out, and I ended up carrying her to the car, and from the car to her bed. Abigail was upbeat and cheery the entire evening and confirmed my opinion that she was a very good mother judging by how she and Bethany interacted. Abigail thanked me profusely when I left and gave me another kiss on the chin; and damn it, I tented my pants again although I'm sure that she didn't notice. A week later Jimmy called me. "Hey, Will, I have a big favor to ask." "I can't imagine one big enough for me to refuse," I chuckled. "I hope so, bro. Listen, Gail and I had planned to take Bethany to the Storyland Amusement Park for little kids this Saturday, but we just lost a Technician at the hospital and until she's replaced I have extra shifts, including Saturday. Would you please take Bethany and Gail there?" I thought for a second; this was a little perplexing, but I saw no reason not to. I had no steady girlfriend, no plans on Saturday that couldn't be canceled, and I loved being with Bethany, so I said, "Sure, Jimmy, that's hardly a big favor though. You know how much I love your little girl!" "When I told her I couldn't go she asked if 'Unca Will' could. She'll be thrilled," Jimmy laughed. That started a succession of times where I would go someplace with Abigail and Bethany. I gradually started to like Abigail more and more since she no longer had the personality traits that made me dislike her – I guess a leopard can change its spots. There was still that damn problem of trusting her to keep her thighs together, though. While I was sure that Abigail had not been fucking anyone else besides Jimmy since I first gave her the draft contract, she had not gotten back to me on changes to it. Finally, about four months after she first looked at the contract, and after she, Bethany, and I had gone out together more than a dozen times, I decided to push it. I called her on her cellphone. "Hi, Gail, this is Will." "I know who you are," she laughed, "Bethany's boyfriend." "My relationship with her is by far the longest I've ever had with a female," I laughed back. "Say, Gail. I know that you haven't been stepping out on Jimmy since I showed you the draft contract, but we need to get it done. It's hanging over my head – I don't like loose ends." After a pause she said "OK, Will. I'll tell Jimmy that he has to watch Bethany some night this week because I have something to discuss with you about her future. What night would be good for you?" "How about Thursday?" I asked after looking at my calendar. "I'll be at your place after dinner – how about eight?" Abigail replied. "See you then – but be ready to move this to conclusion," I retorted. "I will," Abigail replied. The lilt in her voice when she said that surprised me a little. When she arrived, promptly at eight on Thursday, she was dressed casually, but nicely, and once again her hair and makeup were perfect. We exchanged hugs, as we had for the past couple of months when we greeted each other. She was carrying an envelope. After a little small talk, as I drank a beer and she drank a vodka tonic, I asked, "So what's in the envelope?" Her answer set me back. "Did you know that you and Jimmy are only half-brothers?" she asked, very matter-of-factly. "What makes you ask that?" I inquired, my face obviously having flushed. "The DNA profiles I had done on the two of you," she replied after sipping her drink. "How did you get my DNA?" I asked before realizing how stupid that question was. She had hundreds of opportunities to get a cup I drank out of, hair from my comb or hairbrush, or samples of dozens of other parts of me over the last few months. She just smiled, and before she said anything else I said, "Actually, never mind that. Why did you have DNA tests done on Jimmy and me?" "Because of a change I want to make to the contract you showed me," she chuckled. Seeing the perplexed look on my face she continued "I'll explain later. Well, did you know?" "Yes, I did, but I hope that you haven't told Jimmy," I replied. "I haven't told him; I don't think that he would like to know that the guy who raised him isn't his biological father and that his mother had fucked around. How did you find out, and when?" "How isn't important; I've known since High School. What is important is why you got the information?" "I told you at the time of our last 'contract' talk that I'd be honest with you, so I will be," she said, contorting her face. "I have two problems. One, I don't get enough sex with Jimmy to satisfy me, and I have not been able to overcome that issue no matter how hard I've tried since he and I were married – and I have tried hard, including going to see a shrink." That was news to me – the shrink part. "You actually saw a professional for help?" I asked, with newfound respect for her. "Three, actually, at one time or another. That brings me to my second problem. Even though I truly love Jimmy and would do anything for him – except keep my thighs together, I guess – I lust after you. I always have ever since you fucked me in High School." This was news to me too. Except for the wedding reception she had never come on to me since my sophomore year in college. "That brings me to the change that I want to the contract," she said, getting up off her chair and slowly removing her blouse, then her bra, then her skirt, then her panties, as she talked. "The only change I want to the contract is that who I can fuck will be defined by specific DNA alleles. Namely, the ones you and Jimmy have in common." By then she had removed all of her clothes, walked over to me, and sat on my lap, not easy to do since my dick was sticking up from it like a flagpole. When she planted a wicked French kiss on me I started losing my composure. In my defense I hadn't had a good fuck in six months, any sex at all for six weeks, her body was the best I had ever seen live, I had vivid memories of my fucks with her in High School which were still my most physically satisfying ever, over the last few months I had actually started to like her and enjoyed having her around, and she seemed genuinely interested in solving her extramarital affairs problem, albeit in an unusual way. After a few minutes of swapping spit and me massaging her almost perfect big boobs she knelt down, undid my pants and with my unconscious though enthusiastic assistance pulled them off, and then started sucking my cock. God could she suck cock! I was quickly ready to erupt but I now knew that I had to have her pussy, so I pulled her up, sat her on the edge of the table, and tormented her cunt and clit with my fingers, lips, and tongue until she had convulsed through two massive orgasms. Before she had recovered from the second, while she was prone, face-up, on the kitchen table, I buried my cock in one thrust and proceeded to ferociously bang away. She was even better than I remembered. She pulsed her pussy muscles while she banged back and bucked her ass off the table. She was hot, wet, tight, energetic, and motivated. In no time I ejaculated a monster load into her pussy while she was writhing around overtaken by her own, third, orgasm. My climax was so intense that my knees buckled and it was all I could do not to collapse on top of her. Over the next two hours I ate more pussy than I had in the entire previous year, and fucked an ass for the first time in twoyears. After she showered and dressed she took out the draft contract. The only change she made was replacing Jimmy's name with a scientific description of the DNA alleles that Jimmy and I had in common. She initialed and dated the change and signed the contract. I did the same. She gave me a passionate kiss, squeezed my balls, and then with a devilish smile on her face said "Call me this weekend and we can set up a fuck schedule." I simply nodded agreement. "And put that contract in your safety deposit box and let your lawyer know that it's there," she said as she walked out the door. Friday I was worthless at work. I had the strangest mix of euphoria, guilt, self-loathing, and excitement. After a sleepless Friday night, when I called Gail Saturday morning I had come to grips with my situation. Sex with her was the best possible, I was too weak to stay away from her, and I knew that if she wasn't fucking me she'd find someone else which would ultimately lead to ruining Jimmy's marriage. After she rode me reverse cowgirl to a fantastic orgasm that Saturday, then sucked my dick clean, we showered together and then had a "business meeting." We clinically discussed how we could fuck twice a week, get away for one or two nights together every three-four months, and be sure that Jimmy would never find out. Between the knowledge I had from my business, her devious mind, my monetary resources, and the fact that my house was isolated and only three miles from Jimmy's, we had worked out a fool-proof plan – including no public displays of affection – within two hours. Gail joined the health club I was a member of and once a week we work out at the same time for about forty five minutes, and then in a soundproof massage room work my cock in and out of her cunt and/or ass for another thirty minutes. One afternoon a week while Jimmy is working a long shift at the hospital she brings Bethany to my parents' house, her parents' house (they no longer lived in a trailer with financial help that Jimmy and Abigail provided), or a babysitter, and Gail comes over to my house for two hours. My sexual relationship with Gail has now been going on for seven years. The only time we ever fucked with a condom was when she and Jimmy were trying for another kid – I had to be sure that he was the father. After she got pregnant, unlike her first pregnancy her libido soared and I had to fuck her four times a week in addition to her wearing Jimmy out. The only time we didn't have regular sex in those seven years was for a month after Alicia, my second niece, was born, and when Jimmy's family went on vacations. Over those seven years I know for a fact that Abigail has not only never been with another man, she has no desire to be. Cynic that I am I even set up several "tests" of her "fidelity," tests that she definitely would have flunked before we signed our contract but now passed with flying colors. Abigail and I have never told each other "I love you." I'm not sure that I know what romantic love is. I love Jimmy, Bethany and Alicia, and nearly love my parents – but that is familial love. I "love" my co-workers and several other people as friends, but with no romantic involvement whatsoever. I do know that I cherish the time I have with Abigail even if we're not fucking, and she completely satisfies any possible sexual craving I might have. Abigail has completely overcome her trailer trash roots. She is a contributing member to society, a wonderful wife to Jimmy, and a great mother to her girls. I also think that Abigail is still as "in lust" with me as she was in High School. She really seems to be content and enjoys life. I truly believe what she said to me in the heat of our last weekly massage room encounter. As she slowly ground her pelvis into mine while pulsing her pussy muscles and staring down into my face she muttered (intermittent moans removed for clarity): "Will, I am so fucking happy! I never thought that life could be this good, and complete!" 79 4.00/512345