Laura

I know I shouldn’t laugh, but it was with great satisfaction that I left the bathroom, having walked in on Tommy. I was right this morning, he had grown up to be quite a big lad. At six-foot two-inches, he was seven inches taller than I was. From what I had just seen, it looked like he had the foundations to make up the difference between us with what he had between his legs. Only one of the friends that was invited to be entertained was noticeably bigger than my ex. My husband never invited him again.

After seeing Tommy, not just what he was packing, but also the rest of his body. He was in good proportion to his height. Thick arms and deep chest, which when he turned, showed it was wide too, sat under broad shoulders and above a narrow waist. He also carried himself differently, he just casually tucked himself away as we spoke. After I left the bathroom I waited outside as he finished drying himself and slipped his top on. The penny dropped, my ex was embarrassed about his size. Maybe that was the root of all his issues, which would be stupid, as I had not complained once while we were on honeymoon.

I thanked Tommy, not just for being cool and not shouting at me, but for helping me understand a little more and just for being him. Being there when I needed him and buying me a new wardrobe, both helped too. I saw lots of kisses on his cheeks in the future.

I put on one of the new t-shirts and my new jeans with my trainers, I had not bothered with a bra, because he, my ex, didn’t like me wearing them. I hadn’t even thought about it until I saw Tommy’s face.

“What’s up?”

“Erm, you sure you don’t want a bra under that? It doesn’t leave much to the imagination.”

I looked down and both my nipples we sticking out far enough to hang your coat on. Suddenly, I was the one that was embarrassed and rushed back upstairs. A few minutes later, I was back down.

“Can we try again?”

“Of course, I didn’t mean to embarrass or upset you. I just thought you’d want to know before we went out.” He smiled gently at me.

And another kiss on the cheek was earned. “Thank you, Tommy,” I said, “he didn’t like me wearing them.”

“He, as I established and summarised for you yesterday, is a cunt. Not just a common or garden cunt, a cunt of the first order, one with a capital C.” He nodded as he finished as if he had just recited a fact from an encyclopaedia.

Tommy

I hadn’t meant to embarrass her, yes okay, she looked damn sexy, even in just jeans and a t-shirt, but the thing that stood out most, or rather things, were her nipples. Was I even supposed to notice my sister’s nipples? Really, it was impossible not to notice them, standing out, poking through her t-shirt, dragging your eyes to her jiggling, not undersized tits. Tits, which I knew from earlier, were a 36C, at last, a bonus from shopping. Even in the split second from her appearing to me saying something, I did contemplate not saying anything knowing she was going to be with me tonight, on my arm as we walked into the restaurant. I could be proudly showing her off, to all these people.

The equally horrible thought was, that was the sort of thing he would have done. Our intentions would have been completely different, him showing off his property, me declaring how proud I was of my beautiful sister. I could do mine just as well with her wearing a bra and it would be far less embarrassing for her, to have me say something now.

After she came back down and I had re-established that he was a cunt, Laura put her arm in mine as we walked to the door. We had to disengage to get through, then I held the door open as she got in the car. And yes, she was on my arm as we walked into the restaurant. It was only a local steakhouse, but the food was ample and inexpensive, the ambience was simple and company delightful.

I told Laura of the highlights of my job, which lasted all of five minutes. She then regaled me with tales from different photoshoots she had been to.

“This is the first time I have told some of these stories,” she said.

“Why?”

“I guess I just didn’t know how he would react and thought it easier to say nothing.”

“Wow! He did a number on you didn’t he? All these stories should be a joy to share, the tales you go home and tell your loved one over dinner. Things to help you share each other’s lives, even when you are apart.”

“But you know something, Tommy, none of that matters now. It may have taken five years, but I see him for what he is, thanks to you. The one man in my life, you stuck with me even when I thought I didn’t want you to.

“Can I tell you something?” she asked.

I reached over and took her hand, “Laura, you can tell me anything, if it’s a problem we can work through it, if it’s something you are ashamed of, it doesn’t matter, you are safe with me and we can see if there’s a way to correct it, if it even needs correcting.”

She leant forward and lowered her voice; I had to lean forward to hear her properly, “This morning, when you asked me to be the woman in your life, even if it was just for the shopping trip, it was the most wanted I had felt for years. Properly wanted, wanted unconditionally, not wanted for what could be taken from me.”

She looked down at the table, almost as if she was looking for the right words, so I said nothing, just squeezed her hand.

“And that’s another thing,” she said, looking up at me, “you know when to say nothing and do something so simple, that it screams louder than anyone ever could, that you will help me and support me.

“This afternoon,” again she paused, “when you called me sexy,” another pause, I just brushed my thumb over the back of her hand. “I felt, so, special, more special and yes, sexy, sexier than I have felt in years. I know you are my brother, but how you said it and how I felt, it didn’t feel wrong. It felt the same as if you had complimented a photo of mine, I would have felt pride at that. I felt proud that I was your sexy woman, even if it was only fleeting.”

Laura looked down at our hands and gave them a little squeeze of her own. She then looked back at me and gave me a plaintive smile, which I returned.

Laura

Dinner was wonderful and my, I suppose you could call it, confession to Tommy, was actually very cathartic. The more I thought about it, especially after, the more I was convinced, that there was nothing wrong with the feelings I had. We had done nothing wrong; I was sexy and if I was out with just the two of us, then I could be his woman and I would certainly let him be my man.

I didn’t kid myself that it was anything more than close siblings. In time, he would find himself a girlfriend and maybe I would eventually be in a place I felt like dating again. In the meantime, it was good to have a dependable, honest, generous, caring man in my life, watching out for me and me alone.

When we got home, Tommy disappeared and came down in a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt. That looked like a plan, so I went up and put on the t-shirt he had leant me, it was plenty long enough that I didn’t worry about slipping my jeans off and not putting anything else on. He had a beer out for me and had a programme on the TV, paused and ready to go.

“Oh, my god, Tommy!” I squealed like a schoolgirl. I dropped onto his lap and hugged him.

“Something wrong?”

“No, only you remembering one of my favourite films. Did you really want to make me cry?”

He shrugged his shoulder, put his arm around my waist as if to say he was comfortable with me sat there and pressed play. As the opening credits were rolling, I twisted in his lap and retrieved my beer from the table between his chair and the couch. I leant my shoulder against his chest and wriggled until I got his leg comfortable for me. Nothing more was said, we sipped our beer and watched as Téa Leoni struggled to get the warning out about the impending comet collision and as a young Elijah Wood raced after his girlfriend.

When Téa Leoni stands next to her dad on the beach and they talk about the last time they were there, I felt myself filling up. Then the comet hits and as the tsunami rises above them, she just says, “Daddy,” I started crying. I cried more as Tommy, in a mirror of what happened on screen, said nothing, just pulled me closer to him and held me tightly. I cried again near the end where Elijah Wood leaves his girlfriend’s parents to save both of their children; a sister and her younger brother. I always had cried at those points, it just seemed so much more poignant now. I looked at Tommy and saw a single tear on his cheek, I kissed it off and nestled my head into the crook of his neck.

I must have fallen asleep, as the next thing I remember is looking up at Tommy and realising he was carrying me up the stairs. I smiled and put my head back down onto his chest.

Tommy

I knew this film would make Laura cry, it always did, but I thought it might be good to get some out, that were expected. I had read somewhere that it is only when all the tears have been cried, that the healing can begin. Just in case anyone else reads that, it’s bullshit. I’ve found out that crying is a vital part of healing. So vital, that the healing sometimes won’t start, until the crying starts. It’s also like a pressure release valve. Sometimes crying just needs to happen and like that valve, it is better to open it, than have the boiler explode. Even I managed to shed a tear or two during the film, though Laura caught me at it and kissed it better.

After that, she laid her head on my shoulder and it wasn’t long before I heard the steady soft breaths that suggested she was asleep. I tried to see but her hair had fallen across her face, so I stroked it back over her ear as gently as I could. Laura almost sounded like she purred as she pushed her head further into my neck. Now I could see she was asleep and looking so peaceful. As I flicked through the channels, I absent-mindedly carried on stroking her hair, wondering why she only it wore it shoulder length now. I could guess, but she always looked so beautiful with her mane of hair, hanging all the way down her back, touching the tops of her legs.

It wasn’t too long until I was yawning and keeping my eyes open was a fight, one that I lost. This was something that had never happened with Laura in my lap, her bum used to be too bony and she could never sit still. Just after one in the morning, I woke up, the TV playing to itself and Laura still sleeping quietly. I turned off the TV and managed to get to the stairs without waking Laura, somehow. When she did wake up, she just looked at me, smiled and seemed to go back to sleep.

After I had put her in bed, I went to kiss her cheek but she turned slightly toward me. Our lips brushed together before I could pull back far enough. With a sad, half-laugh, I held her chin and kissed her forehead.

“Goodnight, beautiful sister,” I said as I stood up.

Laura’s response was a quiet, dreamy, “Hmm.”

The following morning, it was something buzzing around my face, tickling my nose that woke me up. Without opening my eyes, I tried brushing it away, unsuccessfully. When I did open my eyes, my vision was blurred. Rubbing my eyes explained what was happening; I had a hair in them, more correctly a head of hair. During the night Laura had joined me again, only this time I had not woken up. She was sprawled across me, a leg over mine, an arm around my middle and her head just under my chin. What she had done for her hair to end up covering my face, remains a mystery. I was happy she was feeling more relaxed around me than just a couple of days ago, enough to join me when she needed it. Once my face was clear of obstructions and I could breathe again, I wrapped my arms around her again, kissed the top of her head and dozed off again.

The second time I woke up, Laura was gone, which was good as I now had the same problem as the previous day. After my morning ablutions, I went to the kitchen to start breakfast. I should not have appreciated the sight that greeted me as much as I did. Laura was reaching up into one of the top cupboards, stretching up on tiptoes, her muscles tensed, showing off tanned, toned legs that went all the way up to her bum, the curves of which were poking out from below my t-shirt. There was no sign of her wearing knickers either, which made me wonder if she had been commando when she joined me in bed. If not, why was she now? Laura soon kicked me brutally out of my musings.

“Morning, sleepyhead. Instead of standing gawping, help a lady out.”

Laura

The day before he had bought me some sexy underwear, talking about a future someone I might meet, I might want to wear them for, I might want to show them to and I might, god knows what. It was all ‘might’. After the last five years, I could not see this ‘might’ future, anytime, let alone soon.

Later he had blurted out how he thought I was sexy, even knowing what he knew about this slut that used to be his sister, he still thought it. It wasn’t fluff, just trying to build me up, not the way he came out with it, then started falling all over himself trying to explain.

The first night, when I was in shock and felt too filthy to touch myself, he had gotten me out of the shower and dried me and then he had let me sleep in the same bed as him. When we went out the previous night, he had carried on treating me like his woman. Even half-naked on his lap after the meal he did nothing that a slut might deserve. That first Sunday morning, when he first woke up, he was not worried about me tainting his bed again. A kiss on the head and holding me was his only reaction, even after I had done my best to push him away.

I’m glad he didn’t notice me crying when he did that, it would have needed an explanation, that would have raised questions, which I didn’t have answers to. It was the first time I had genuinely felt like a woman in years, the first time I felt sexy. Was I destined to have this talk with myself every morning? Another new feeling was that it was the first time in years, which I have woken up not feeling dirty or used, the first time I was happy and contented to be in the bed I woke up in and with the person I woke up with.

Lying there, I thought unless we had to go out, today might be a good time to relax, just us, in his house, getting to know each other again. Trying to be the sister I was before I got married. I kissed his chest and moved his arms off me, slowly disentangling myself. I crept out and had a shower and put his t-shirt back on. As I looked in the mirror, I found someone I wanted to wear the lacy underwear for, not that I planned on a bra today.

While I was preparing breakfast, I was reaching into a cupboard when I heard him come into the kitchen. I expected him to say something or come straight over, but no, he left me struggling to get the flour off the top shelf. As soon as I admonished him, he came over.

“Sorry, I just, it’s, oh, fuck it, you know your arse was hanging out just then?”

“Yep and if you look very closely my tits will be wobbling all over the place.”

“Ha! You don’t need to look close to see your… oh shit, sorry.”

Once, just once, if my ex-jerk had shown the thought about my feelings that Tommy did, maybe everything would be different.

“Sorry?” I asked, “For noticing a couple of my best assets?”

He blushed; it was the first time since we had first started noticing the changes, that he had blushed when talking about our bodies. He didn’t even blush when we had seen each other naked the day before.

He soon gathered himself, “Well unless you want to be displaying to all and sundry, maybe you might want to put on some underwear?”

“I have,” I replied, lifting the back of his t-shirt.

As he stuttered, I said, “I found someone to wear it for,” for a brief moment, less than a second, the look on...