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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to anyone is purely coincidental. All sexual activity is between consenting adults over the age of eighteen. This story is a slow, long romance...

*****

I mean, c'mon, that's the intent blokes usually have, isn't it?

Put yourself in my shoes for a tic, ok, I've never known either of my parents, my biological parents, my adoptive parents both passed away three and four years ago, I grew up with only fragments of my true existence.

Jack and Fran gave me a fantastic Life that pales against some kids I grew up with, it also outstrips other kids lives by the proverbial country mile, hands down.

I will ALWAYS know them as my parents, I mean, I was a baby, when they adopted me.

My birth was difficult for my mother, it killed her, for one thing, there was no husband on the scene, for another, at least that was the evidence on my birth certificate.

I never actually felt my mother's touch, the moment I exited her womb, she lost consciousness, three minutes later she died.

The only woman's touch I felt was Fran, my adoptive mother, I grew up calling her Mum, the only man's touch I felt, was my adoptive father's, I grew up calling him Dad. They'll ALWAYS be Mum and Dad to me.

~*~

This wonderful lady sitting here, next to me, had something to tell me about the day I was born, this wonderful lady sitting here, next to me, currently, had her hand on my rapidly hardening cock.

Then, just like that, she removed her hand, moving it, to also cup her glass. I felt like my rear flesh ring, wanted to lift into the atmosphere through the eye of the Old Fella when her hand lifted off my donk, it was like she had a magnet in her hand.

A really strong one.

I had to take a few rapid breaths, because, I'd reclined back into the couch, the back of my head touching the couch cushion, my face pointing to the opposite wall, where it meets the roof.

I had closed my eyelids, at some point, that, for the moment, evaded me as to when I actually closed them.

When I opened them, I looked directly at Jean, she was looking at me over the top of her glass, with an insanely looking lust in her eyes, her smile as evil as anything I've seen on ANY woman, as she lowered her glass, uncovering the rest of her facial features.

The flames from the fire danced over every contour of her delightful face, she truly was a spellbinding woman.

What I saw, was, Jean being the closest thing to perfection I'll ever get.

With the women I'd met prior to her, they may as well put the candle down gently and back discreetly out of the room. There were a few gorgeous women in amongst that lot and there were those that failed to get to gorgeous, this lady right here, was every stand-out feature of those previous women, all rolled up into one extremely femininely handsome female. In my humble opinion.

Regardless of the clichéd romanticism, I grew up wanting to romance a woman, fall in Love with her, marry her, raise a family of happy kids with her.

The shit is, I hear that all the time, lotsa blokes want what I want, every one of those blokes that got that Life, is a lucky mongrel, in my book, they got to where I wanted to be, they got the fairytale, but, I then got an eyeful of the down-side of the fairytale, which is neither here nor there, in the grand scheme of things, the time was here and now, that's where my focus needed to be.

Jean had caused me to look at something that had laid dormant for more than five years.

I sat forward, stared into the fire, willing my erection to subside.

Libido hit the turn a long neck in front, the rails run beckoning.

Curiosity huffing harshly.

*quot;Are you scared of anything, Vic?*quot; Jean asked gently.

*quot;The bold, brutal truth usually puckers my freckle, these days.*quot;

I managed to strangle out. She smiled.

*quot;I hafta know that you're my brother, Vic, after that, we can deal with the 'whatever', and to be brutally honest, it makes no difference to me one way or the other, I was drawn to you before I looked at your birthday, we've both covered that, it's the rest of it that we now hafta deal with.

This involves the BOTH of us right now, we can walk away or we can face it, together, as equals.*quot; she reasoned, her voice slithering all over me again.

I placed my left hand on the inside of her left thigh, an inch away from her hot muff, she closed her eyes, reclined back against the couch cushions, her nipples straining against the fabric of her top, I moved my hand to cup her muff, I gently squeezed her mound, she moaned.

Then, just like that, I removed my hand, picked up my drink, lifting it to my lips, taking a long swig, never really knowing for sure who it was hurting the most, her groan when my hand lifted off her hot muff, told me all I need to know. It took her a solid five minutes to have everything catch up, her whole body quivering, when she finally opened her eyes, she turned her head to look at me, the passion written all over face, seared itself betist giriş into my memory.

*quot;That was totally off the charts,Vic and it was totally uncalled for, but, I guess this really means that it can only work one way from here, we've crossed a barrier,*quot; Her voice totally neutral, making it difficult to gauge anything.

*quot;Is your Dad still alive?*quot; I asked gently.

She shook her head, her black hair shimmering.

*quot;No, he passed away three years ago.*quot; She said softly.

I gazed into the fire, it cracked, a shower of sparks disappeared up the tube.

I got up, walked over to the left side of the fireplace, grabbed the poker, gave the logs a bit of a stoke, added a bigger lump of timber.

I replaced the poker and continued to stare into the fire.

I felt something brush against my right arm.

I looked to the right, Jean was standing behind my right shoulder, her left hand finding it's way into my right hand.

Her left nipple scorching into my right shoulder, the outside of my right upper arm pressing against the inside of her right boob.

She pushed her left hand around my back, trapping my right hand and arm behind my back, pulling her body against mine, her muff grinding against my hip, I felt her lips against my ear, then her right hand came up to press against my chest. I felt the tops of her thighs quiver, her left knee behind my right leg, her right knee in front of my right leg, her voice barely a whisper,

*quot;We can leave this here, pick it up later, we can go find out now, or totally leave it the fuck alone and we get down and dirty, here, now?*quot;

Her voice urgent. My heart thundering in my chest.

I turned my right hip towards her left hip, I reached up to trap her right hand with my left hand, then brought it slowly around behind her back, pulling her against me, my donk mashed against her mound.

Two layers of material separating our hot genitals.

Both of us breathing harsh, our mouths millimetres apart.

We both groaned.

*quot;That was unfair!*quot; Jean gasped.

I felt her flex some muscle that thumped against my cock, my knees just about hit the destruct button and smacked against hers, I almost buckled at the reaction through my lower abdomen.

*quot;And what was that?*quot; I wheezed, the glands of my cock had become unbearably sensitive.

It was then I realised we were both in a precarious position, the her left hand was holding my torso against her chest, my right arm trapped, her nipples drilling through my chest, whilst my left hand pressed the top of her bum against my hips, trapping her right arm. We started grinding against each other, our body's on auto pilot.

I felt the delicate, feather touch of her bottom lip on my bottom lip, I watched the whispered movement of her lashes. Ohh Boy!

*quot;Another fine mess, Olly*quot; she breathed into my mouth.

*quot;On the count of three, we both let go,*quot; She added.

I breathed a sigh of relief into her mouth. I expected her to kiss me.

*quot;Three,*quot; She whispered.

I released her right hand, she released my right hand, we stepped back from each other, panting.

*quot;WOW!...THAT was intense,*quot; She blurted.

*quot;Ya reckshon?*quot; I replied. It was out before I realised what I'd just said.

She glanced down at the front of my Rasta pants, a lewd lump protruding from my groin. Shit!

*quot;Shit, Mate, did I do that?*quot; she stared openly at the bulge.

*quot;Unngh*quot; was all I had in me, my skull was thumping, my knob was throbbing, my heart was still thundering in my chest.

*quot;It looks, ahh, uncomfortable?*quot; She observed.

*quot;It'll be good in a bit, just need to ease up on the stimulation, which is damn near impossible with you standing here.*quot; I spluttered.

Her gaze lifted up to my face, the serenity nearly floored me.

I squatted down on my haunches, my face inches from her muff, she walked around the coffee table to sit back down on the couch.

She grabbed her drink, took a small swallow, then sat back against the cushions, bringing the glass to rest in her lap.

I remained squatting for a solid five minutes, I had to cut off the circulation from my hips down. When I felt the Old Boy calming down and everything else returned to a solid hum that was palpable, I stood up, took a few heavy breaths and went around to sit next to Jean.

My right thigh pressed hard against her left thigh, my right arm pressed against her left arm.

*quot;That was unreal.*quot; I said, quietly.

*quot;What the fuck are we holding onto, Vic?*quot; she asked, quietly.

*quot;I have no idea, Babe.*quot; I replied.

She took another sip of her drink. I leaned forward to pick up mine, I took a small swallow, feeling it scorch every surface on it's way to the acid bath, she leaned forward,

*quot;I SINCERELY want you inside me, I've never wanted any man's cock like I want yours right now, it's ridiculous that I'm sitting here, still clothed.*quot; she whispered, she went on. *quot;My Honey Button is throbbing so hard, my nipples feel like they're about to explode, I'm leaking like a betist yeni giriş broken tap, I know you can smell me, your essence...*quot; she was breathless, she flopped back against the cushions.

*quot;There's only one way we can fix this.*quot; She said a few minutes later.

She stood up, walked over to the bar, draining her glass, signalled me over, I grabbed my drink, drained it, took the empty glass over to the bar, she refilled both glasses.

She walked back to the coffee table, picked up the billy and the lighter, she pulled the the cone, repacked it, handed it to me, I pulled it, repacked it and put it back down on the coffee table.

She then grabbed my right hand in her left hand, dragging me towards the hallway. We stopped when we reached the last two doors in the hallway, before the front door. The door to the right was my bedroom, the door to the left, was my study.

We entered door number two, my study.

*quot;Bring up the ancestry registry.*quot; She chirped at me.

I sat down in front of my monitor and did as requested.

When I had the relative info on the screen, Jean shooed me away from my seat, I got up, she sat down, five minutes later she sat back with a frown on her face.

*quot;What's wrong, darl?*quot; I asked her.

*quot;According to this, there is no record of my mother anywhere.*quot;

Disappointment evident in her voice.

*quot;How about hospital records, we can check those?*quot; I queried.

*quot;Yeah, I guess, but they're protected files, aren't they?*quot; She asked.

*quot;My turn to impress.*quot; I quipped, shooing her away from my seat.

I sat down, within five minutes we were looking at the hospital births and deaths registry from the year we were born. I clicked on a link that brought up a screen, I scanned it. I just about fell out of my seat. Jean had been hovering over my right shoulder, she peered at the screen.

*quot;Whats wrong, Babe?*quot; She asked me.

I clicked a few more times, finally, I hooked my thumb at the screen,

*quot;According to this, you and I shared the same midwife,*quot; I stated.

*quot;Ok, my turn again, I've got an idea,*quot; Jean finally mused.

We swapped out of the chair again. Five minutes later, Jean yelped. I stared at the screen, nothing jumped out at me.

*quot;The midwife is still alive, according to this, she's still alive, in Melbourne, St Kilda. She's a couple of years older than Dad, but she's alive.*quot; She said calmly.

I shooed her out of the chair, sat down, punched her Dad's name into the search engine.

This time I yelped when I finished reading the info that appeared on the screen.

Jean's father was listed as a witness at my birth.

Then the penny dropped.

I missed it first time around, in Jeans office. I now got why her fathers name zapped me.

Jean was looking at the page that was on the screen, I watched her reaction.

She stood up quickly, *quot;fuck me.*quot; She said quietly.

We spent the next half hour getting as much info as possible, which was very little.

When I turned the puter and the screen off, I got up, Jean grabbed my empty glass, headed out of the office, back out into the hallway, I followed her, perving on her bum as we walked silently back down to the loungeroom.

I headed over to the coffee table, Jean headed to the bar with our empty glasses.

She refilled them and brought them over to the coffee table.

She handed me my drink, then sat down next to me on the couch, her right thigh pressing against my left thigh.

*quot;I'm taking a sicky tomorrow, Vic, I wanna head up to St Kilda to have a chat with the midwife.*quot; She said, calmly.

I absorbed that, then something else clunked into place.

I got up, headed straight back to my office, by the time I had fired up the pc, Jean was standing beside me, confusion etched onto her face.

*quot;Can ya bring your birth certificate back up please.*quot; I said gently, then looking away from the screen.

I heard the keys tapping.

*quot;Ok, here it is.*quot; She said.

I scanned the document, I brought up my birth certificate next to it.

I zoomed in on the times again, then I looked for Jean's Dad's name.

*quot;Look at the times of our births, fourteen minutes apart, your Old Man's name appears on BOTH documents, he was there, in that delivery room, for BOTH births, why does it appear on YOUR certificate as being the father, yet, as a witness on mine?*quot; I asked.

*quot;And why was my mothers name never put on the birth certificate?*quot;

Jean bounced back.

*quot;We need to talk to that midwife, she'll remember Mum, she'll be in her late sixties, early seventies, at a pinch.*quot; I offered.

*quot;Her name, as well as the doctor's name, appears on both certificates, which tells me, they were there for both births, which then tells me, Mum, was the ONLY woman giving birth between 11.09 am and 11.23 am, that morning, in that room.*quot; She countered.

*quot;Roland Fredrick Davis is your father, as listed on your birth certificate, he's listed as being a witness on my birth certificate, Evelyn Elizabeth Jones is listed betist güvenilirmi as being my mother, the signatures of both the midwife AND attending doctor appear on BOTH certificates, all of that points to us being fraternal twins. Brother and sister.*quot; I said.

Damn.

Then it hit me, I pulled up my Mums birth certificate, I asked Jean to pull up her Dad's death AND birth certificates.

The evidence in front me, indicated that, Jean's Dad