Last Screw Before I Do (3 page)

I suspected
that at least
one
thing was up, if you
catch my drift.

Lucas reached
over and grabbed Marc's hand as Mom spoke about how glad she was
that they were getting married. “Committed, I mean...no, wait, that
sounds like you're going to a mental institution...I mean...” We
laughed again. It hadn't been that long ago that Mom had had
problems coming to terms with Luke being gay. She'd spent a few
years grieving the loss of grandchildren from him. She'd come a
long way towards acceptance, though at times like this it was
obvious that she was out of her element. It was a sign of her
growth when she started getting excited about the commitment
ceremony. Lucas was the first of us to get married, and once she
got going on the decorations and such there was no stopping
her.

I looked at my
brother, so full of love, and joy, and I found myself smiling. He
was a good guy, and I was truly happy to see him in love.

I looked at my brother, but Marc looked at me. His fingers
twined with Lucas's, but his toes slid up the inside of my thigh.
He was deliberate about it; there was no mistake. I clamped my legs
shut and shot him a look—
What are you
DOING?
—but he didn't stop. His other foot
found mine and rubbed. When he swallowed, he swallowed
hard.

I shoved back
from the table abruptly, my chair scraping the worn linoleum of Mom
and Dad's kitchen. Mom stopped mid-sentence: “Dear, are you
alright?” I just nodded and mumbled “Excuse me.”

I fled the
room, and hurried down the hall to my old bedroom. Dad used it as
an office now, but the decor was untouched. Little pink carousel
horses trotted around the tops of the walls. I'd hated them as a
teenager, but being back here now they comforted me.

I flung myself
into Dad's creaky desk chair and thought. There had to be some kind
of misunderstanding in there. Had it been a joke of some kind? Some
kind of test? What on earth was Marc thinking? He was gay. He was
marrying my brother. It made no sense at all for him to be flirting
with me.

Dad poked his
head into the room. “You okay in here?”

“
Yeah, Daddy. I'm fine. I just...I needed a
minute.”

He perched on
the corner of the desk. “Are you having trouble with this whole
thing? Your mother wasn't okay with it at first, either. It's okay
to be uncomfortable, but he's still your brother and you need to
support him.”

“
Oh! No! No, it's nothing like that. It's just...being back
here. It's been a while since we've all been together and I got a
little emotional. Nothing to worry about.” I stood and gave him a
hug, breathing in the spicy smell of his tobacco. “Thanks for
checking on me, though.”

He squeezed me
back. “You bet, sweetheart. You take a minute, if you need it, but
come back soon. Your mother is putting us all to work after dinner
making a billion little paper flowers. And if I have to suffer, you
have to, too.”

He left me to
join the chaos unfolding in the kitchen, and I took a deep breath
and followed.

My sisters had
cleared away the dishes and Mom was spreading craft supplies all
over the table. “It's a neat little trick I saw on the Internet,”
Mom said. “All you need are coffee filters and glue.”

Lucas was
beaming. He'd always been a Mama's boy, and having her finally
accept his settling down with Marc clearly overjoyed him.

Marc, on the
other hand, patted a chair next to him when he saw me. “Shelly, why
don't you come sit with me? I'll need all the help I can get.”

“
Well, Marc,” I said coldly, “get some help from your
soon-to-be husband, then.”

I sat far away
from him at the table and busied myself cutting and folding what
felt like thousands of tiny paper petals. Marc seemed to be the
only one who caught my iciness, and for that, at least, I was
thankful.

I tried to
push it out of my mind as I folded the flowers. And when my sister
Jenny brought in some coffee, I was so thankful I almost kissed
her.

We stayed up
late, trying to get everything ready for the ceremony in the
morning, then we all left my parents' and went back to our hotel.
We were staying in separate rooms, excepting Marc and Lucas, of
course, but we were all spread along the same hallway. Jenny, ever
the responsible one, had found us a group rate.

I let myself
into my room, thankful for some peace and quiet at last. Living
alone, I was used to solitude, and being in the midst of my
family's antics had worn me out. I locked the door behind me,
stripped out of my clothes, and crawled naked between the crisp
white sheets. The novel I was reading was beside me on the
nightstand, and I picked up where I'd left off. Romans were
invading, and the action was good, but I found my mind wandering
back to Marc.

It didn't seem
fair. He was so good looking, and in another world I'd have gone
after him in a heartbeat. But things don't always work out the way
we expect, and in this world he was gay and in love with my
brother.

Maybe not one
hundred percent gay, though. I remembered the feel of his foot on
mine under the table, the simplest touch but enough to be
unforgettable. I thought about his dark brown eyes, about the tiny
cleft in his chin. In another world, he would be mine instead of
Lucas's. I liked my men tall, broad, and handsome, and he fit the
bill nicely.

I set my book
aside, and my hand found its way under the sheets. I touched
myself, thinking of the way he'd smelled when I hugged him hello.
Thinking of the hard muscles outlined under the sweatshirt he wore.
My fingers parted my labia as I imagined what he would look like
naked. He'd be rippled, with those abs that cut sharply at the
hips, leading the eye down to his dick. He'd be big, I thought, his
prick thick and hard. Hard for me.

In my mind, he
was straight and lusting for me. I rubbed at my nub, fingers
slicked with my wetness, as I thought of him coming to the door,
wanting me, taking me here, in this strange room, fucking me until
dawn. I pushed aside any thoughts of hurting my brother; in my
mind, Marc was hungry for me and me alone.

When I entered
myself, I imagined it was his shaft. I added another finger, then
another, filling myself up but pretending it was him instead. I
spread my legs wider, and fucked myself with both hands: one buried
inside me, one rubbing furiously at my swollen clit. I panted, and
I moaned, and when I came I grunted like an animal.

When finally I
pulled my fingers out of myself, they were wrinkled from my
wetness. I flung the covers back and made my way to the bathroom to
wash my hands. The bathroom was right beside the door to my room,
so when the knock sounded there I nearly jumped out of my skin.

I yelped.

A voice came
from outside: “Shelly? Can I come in?”

It was Marc.
The real Marc, not the one from my fantasies. What did he want?

A knocking
again, softer this time. “Are you still awake?”

Oh God.

I grabbed the
fluffy white robe from the back of the bathroom door and wrapped it
around myself. I tied it quickly then opened the door.

Marc was
standing there in the dimly-lit hallway, and for the first time
since I'd known him he looked bashful. Hesitant. It was so
completely out of character for him that at first I wondered if
something was wrong.

“
You're still going through with it, right?” I blurted, and
instantly felt my cheeks turn red.
Of all the clumsy
things to say...

Marc bit his
bottom lip. “That's the thing, it's...Listen, can I come in for a
bit? I need to talk to you.”

I opened the
door wider and stood back to let him pass. Too late, I noticed my
bra and panties laying on top of the pile of clothes I'd worn. He
looked right at them as he passed, but fortunately for my crushing
embarrassment he didn't say anything.

He sat
awkwardly on the end of the bed; it was that or one of a pair of
uncomfortable chairs at the small desk. I chose one of these
instead. I waited.

“
It's like this,” he began. “It's not that I don't want to
marry your brother. I do. I really do. It's just that I...he told
you about my...”

“
Your affairs? You came to talk about that? It's late, Marc,
and I don't think I'm the person you want to—”

“
You're exactly the person I need. What he didn't tell you is
that a couple of my... indiscretions... happened with women.” His
eyes were on his lap, so he didn't see my jaw drop. He continued,
“I'm gay. Or at least, I thought I was. But there were a couple of
times that things got crazy, I'd been drinking, and suddenly I'm
going back to her place. I never thought anything would come of it.
But once I'd had one woman, I wanted another. Lucas was hardly
impressed; that's why we spent so much time fighting last year.” I
nodded. I remembered. He swallowed hard. “I need to know who I am.
That's why I came to you.”

The pieces
came together in my mind, but I brushed the thought away. He
couldn't mean...

“
I want to sleep with you. I want one last taste of pussy
before I settle down with your brother.”

I gasped. “Okay, this is crazy. I don't know why you're
telling me all this. And I sure as hell don't know why you'd want
to sleep with
me
, of all people.
Couldn't you sneak off with some random chick from the bar? Like
you did before?”

He flinched. “I deserve that, I guess. I came to
you
because you're just like
him
.”

It was true.
Lucas and I, closest in birth, looked more like one another than
anyone. We were the same height; we shared many of our features.
People often confused us for twins, though there was a year and a
half between us. But why...?

“
The only real difference between you is that you're a woman.
I love being with him; if I enjoy being with you, I must enjoy
being with women, also. I'm still going to be committed to your
brother, but I can't give him all of myself unless I know myself
first.”

I hesitated.
The last thing I wanted was to hurt Lucas; I didn't even want to
risk it. But if this was the only way Marc could give himself
wholly to my brother, I saw no other way. I wanted Lucas to be
happy.

I made up my
mind: I was going to fuck my brother's lover.

I didn't know
exactly where to begin, so I untied my robe and let it fall open
over the arms of the chair. Marc gasped and froze where he was.
Neither of us moved for a moment, a moment which got longer and
longer until I started feeling self-conscious. “Is there something
wrong?” I looked down at myself: lightly tanned, full high breasts,
taut stomach, well-shaped strip of trimmed pubic hair. The tiny
beads on my navel ring caught the light, but I didn't think that
was it. “What?”

He was having
trouble getting any words out, and when at last he spoke he sounded
strangled. “You're fucking amazing, is what.” He held his hands out
to me; I stood and went to him. I left the robe behind.

He touched me
so softly it was like a whisper on my skin. His hands glided over
my stomach, which was at eye level to his seated position. Slowly,
ever so slowly, he leaned forward, warm breath on my belly, and
gently kissed the sensitive skin there. I felt the pleasant chill
of excitement.

“
I've thought of you for a while now,” I started to tell him,
but he hushed me with a finger to his lips. His hand found mine and
he pulled me down to sit beside him. He paused for just a moment
then kissed me.

My head spun; I felt like a teenager again. Marc's lips were
softer than those of any man I'd kissed, and his tongue danced
expertly with mine. Already my heart was thudding in my chest. He
smelled of dark vanilla and his breath tasted like cinnamon.
He's cheating, you know
. I shoved the
thought to the back of my mind. I was doing the right thing; it was
helping my brother...in the long run, anyway. And frankly, with
Marc's tongue in my mouth and his warm hands cradling my breasts,
my brother was the last thing I wanted on my mind.

I started to
unbutton his pants. He broke our kiss only long enough to slide
them down and off, and he kissed me again before his shirt came off
over his head. He was naked, now. We were naked together. My
brother's lover and I, alone, in my room.

I felt the
heat between my legs intensify, and suddenly I wanted him there.
Right or wrong, good or bad, I wanted Marc inside me. I reached for
his prick, barely touching the smooth flesh before he gently pushed
my hand away.

“
I want to taste you first. I want to explore.”

He gestured
for me to lie back. I obeyed, climbing up to the pillows, the crisp
duvet crinkling under my weight. I leaned against the plush
headboard and watched him.

He adjusted
himself to a position just above my pulsing vulva. My thighs were
closed to him, but it didn't matter: he started by kissing me just
below my navel. His kisses were soft, and sweet, and he took his
time in moving downwards. I felt ready to explode. At last his
kisses followed the light sprigs of hair down, until he was at my
cleft. My breath came ragged.

He pushed my
legs apart and flicked his tongue, just once, over my throbbing
clit. I drew in a sharp breath: his head snapped up to see if he'd
hurt me. I smiled, eyes half shut with lazy pleasure, and slowly
pushed his head down between my legs.

It was all the
encouragement he needed. He lapped at the sweet honey trickling out
between my lips, smacking his lips with approval and humming a deep
“Mmm”against me. The vibrations of his lips were wild: the man was
a human sex toy! Over and across my opening, his tongue never quite
penetrating, he drove me mad with lust. He engaged my pussy
thoroughly; all I could think about was the roughness of his taste
buds brushing against me as he explored. Finally, the tip of his
tongue pushed through my folds and up inside of me. I exhaled the
breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.