I am a pervert_(1)

A couple of months from now, I will be 25 years old, and for the past 18 months, have been living in a husband-wife relationship with my brother.

Rick is two years younger than me. My first sexual contact with him was four months before that, and happened as a result of me being in an extremely traumatic situation.

I married when I was twenty, when my husband, Elmer, was starting his career as a teacher. Naturally, we didn’t want children right away, so I was on the `pill.’ Life was just fantastic, and I thought our happiness would go on forever.

One Friday, not long after our second wedding anniversary, Elmer came home early from school. Feeling very ill, he felt pretty sure a week-end of rest would fix him up just fine, but it didn’t. He felt worse on Monday and I insisted on calling the doctor who said he was not sure what was wrong with Elmer and a few days later, we went into the city to see a specialist. When he’d finished running a bunch of tests, the specialist got us both in his office and told us Elmer would have to go into the hospital for exploratory surgery. Saying he thought he was feeling better and that he really needed to get back to his teaching, Elmer protested but the doctor looked at both of us pretty grimly and said, “No, Elmer. This could be serious.” Surgery! Hearing him say that, I nearly died and grabbed Elmer and hugged him to me.

For the next several days, while we were waiting for the operation to be scheduled, I just went around in
kind of a numb daze. How could this be happening to us? When I should have been the one cheering him up, telling me everything was going to be all right, poor Elmer tried to cheer me up!

Elmer’s father is his only living relative, a poor, very sick old man who lives a couple of thousand miles from where we live. I called him but of course he couldn’t come.


My mother and father are both dead and my only relative is my younger brother, Rick, who lived in a
smaller city just under a hundred miles from here. Asking him if he could be with me while Elmer was in the operating room, he got emergency leave and got to the hospital about fifteen minutes before they rolled Elmer into the operating room. As he was going past on the gurney, Elmer took Rick’s hand and said, “Look after her for me,” and Rick assured him he would.


Rick and I sat in the waiting room, sometimes just holding hands and sometimes getting up and pacing the floor. We both expected to have a pretty long wait, so I was surprised – and very hopeful – when the operating surgeon came out sooner than expected. Pulling his mask down, he walked up to me and said, “Mrs.——-, I’m afraid I have bad news for you.” My face must have turned very pale, because Rick came quickly to my side and put his arm around me to steady me.

“He’s going to be all right, isn’t he?” I finally choked out.

Shaking his head sadly, the doctor put a hand on my arm. “We’ve lost him.”

The surgeon told me when they’d opened Elmer up, they’d discovered he was eaten up with cancer. “Since there was nothing we could do for him, we started closing, and his heart just stopped. We tried, but we couldn’t get it to start again.”

Reeling back against Rick, he held me up with both arms. The doctor told is if Elmer had survived the operation, he would have had perhaps a month or two to live and in constant, unbearable pain. “Believe me, Mrs.——,” he said, “Elmer is better off not having to go through that, and though I know how hard it is to believe such a thing right now, so are you.”

After thanking the Doctor, holding me tight against his side so I wouldn’t fall kicking and screaming to the
floor, Rick led me out of the hospital.

When we got home, not knowing what to do, I walked dazedly through the house. I was not even 23 years old – and already a widow! Rick fixed us lunch and made me sit down at the table, but I just picked at my food.

Rick called the hospital and the mortuary, and the Principal at Elmer’s school, telling him what had
happened. Later in the afternoon, he sat and talked to me. I cried a lot, and he did his best to comfort me. Finally he fixed us some supper. I ate a little of that, and afterwards, showed Rick the bedroom where he could sleep. Then, I went to mine and Elmer’s bedroom, undressed, and climbed in bed.

I laid there, not tossing and turning like you hear of people doing. I didn’t have the energy for it. I just
laid there and stared at the ceiling. I felt so alone!

It was still before midnight when, in desperation, Icalled out to Rick. In only a moment, he was coming
through my door. He hadn’t even taken time to dress and was just wearing boxer shorts.

“Ginny,” he said, “are you all right?”

I was crying and I shook my head. “Please lie down with me, Rick,” I begged him. He hesitated for just a second, then crawled in bed by my side and pulled the covers up over us. I put my head on his shoulder and sobbed for a while, and then I rolled away from him. “Please hug my back,” I asked him, and he took me in his arms in a `spoon hug’.

I don’t know how long we laid like that, but after a little while, I felt Rick’s penis start getting hard
against my bottom. He moved back, but it was like his cock had pressed a `start button’ in me!

I don’t understand the psychology of what I did and I’m not sure I want to, but I moved back a little bit so
that my buttock touched Rick’s erection again – and it was very hard. He jumped at the contact, and all of a sudden, throwing my uppermost leg across his hips and worming my lower one under him, I found myself rolling over to face him. Pressing my groin to that hard thing between my brother’s legs, my arms were around him and I was pulling him to me as hard as I could.

Rick groaned and tried to push away from me, but wildly humping against his middle, I had an arm and leg lock around him.