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Rachael Bishop was an enigma even before I met her. A nurse with Médecins Sans Frontières operating in grim parts of the world, Rachel became orphaned when her parents died in a house fire a year earlier. From that sad description, most men would want to help a woman like her. When Steve showed me a picture of an attractive brunette in her late twenties, my resistance melted.
“That’s Rachel Whatshername the actress.” I squinted at the picture of a shapely woman in a black two-piece suit taken at a funeral.
“Most people think so at a glance. This is the actress. See the difference?” Steve flicked between the pictures on his phone and I agreed they were close enough to be mistaken. “Same name, different people. So, you’ll do it then, Tom? You’ll look after her keepsakes until she can collect them. Unless you don’t want to meet her and she can just give you an address to send her stuff to?” He shook his phone, knowing I would not pass up the chance.
“Let’s back up a minute Steve. You’re prepared to sell me this barn find Rover P5B Coupe on behalf of Rachel’s cousin, your wife, on condition I take half a dozen boxes of Rachel’s stuff with me, for her to collect at a later date.” He nodded. “Why can’t she collect it from you?”
“There’s bad blood between Rachael and Jo-Jo. It goes back to when they were kids. Jo-Jo won’t tell me the details. She doesn’t know I salvaged Rachel’s stuff when I saved the car before the garage collapsed after the fire. Jo-Jo already accuses me of fancying Rachael.” I gave Steve a look. “Okay, maybe I do. But I want a happy wife and an easy life. The car and all this stuff, needs gone today, as they say in the small ads.”
I drove back to Upper Cockton with my latest restoration commission on the trailer. On my back seat were half a dozen cardboard boxes containing all that remained of the family life of Rachel Bishop, real life angel and Hollywood lookalike. You’d be as curious as I was to know what was in those boxes, but I packed them away in my parcel storeroom and forgot all about them. Soon I was into restoring the classic 1960s saloon beloved by police and crooks alike; for Justin, a modern-day crook who managed a hedge fund.
It was two months later when Rachel called.
“Hello, is that Tom? Steve gave me your number. I’m Rachel Bishop. You are kindly looking after some boxes for me. I was hoping to contact you before now, but I’ve been in Sudan. It’s awful for innocent people caught up in the conflict.”
What was I going to do? Chew the woman out because saving lives was more of a priority than clearing my shelves. I said I understood, having been on several humanitarian missions when I was in the Royal Engineers. I told Rachael to enjoy her R and R in Paris and I’d see her in a few days.
A taxi deposited her and a small wheeled suitcase on the end of my path early next week. Rachael Bishop was stunning in person. Dressed in denim jeans, a white tee shirt and short leather jacket, she had a healthy tan on her face, hands, and feet. She pushed sun glasses onto her caramel-coloured hair and smiled. Rachel gave me a moment to compose myself. I reddened, realising she was giving me the once over as well.
“Hello Tom. I came over on the Eurostar. It took ages.”
I smiled. “Well, it’s a long train ride from Hollywood, Rachel.”
“Please Tom, stop it.” She blushed, even though she must have heard it many times before. “I brought you a thank you.” She presented a bottle of brandy she had been hiding behind her back.
“Thank you, Rachael. Aren’t I the lucky boy today? Come in and get settled. I’ll make some tea and you can go through your boxes.”
“You are very kind Tom. Most is from years ago. It will probably go to the charity shops.”
“Don’t be in a hurry. They can stay here until you are ready.”
She took my hand. It was an instinct thing until we became self-conscious of the contact. “That tea will not make itself. Take a seat at the big table.” I left her with her boxes and the teapot and retreated to the garage to give her some privacy.
Rachel found me a couple of hours later. She’d been crying, but gave me a happy smile. “Wow. The Rover is looking like new. My uncle Pete loved that car. Pete bought it from his old boss and ran it for a couple of years, but something broke and he never got round to fixing it. It sat in the garage for years.”
“I’ve had the engine out and replaced all the consumables. It’s had a new water pump and I’ve fixed the steering rack. It’s a common problem with P5s. Let’s take it around the block to check my repairs?”
I had no road tax or MOT, so we just did a couple of circuits the oval road that described Upper Cockton. I kept an eye out for Audrey and Barbara as an attractive young woman in my passenger seat, dabbing her tears was bound to demand an explanation at some point. Luck was with me and we pulled up on the drive again without incident.
“The engine sounds good Tom. Like a growling lion.”
“It’s a Buick V8, 3.5 talas escort lump. I’ve tuned the carbs. It might be too loud for Upper Cockton. The client wants it to sound like a well-dressed thug.”
Rachel laughed. “Thank you for giving me space, Tom. Most men see a woman crying and jump in with questions. They want it to stop.”
“Grieving is a difficult thing. Many men don’t know how to react. It’s instinct to try to save a damsel in distress. Well, the beautiful ones anyway. Blokes can let ugly women cry all day.”
“Tom! That’s a terrible thing to say.” I gave her a whimsical look. “It’s still terrible even if it’s true.”
In the living room, she’d sorted her memories into piles. “Keepers, charity donations, recycling and not sure if it’s valuable, but I don’t want it.” The keepers were mainly photographs.
I picked up the one on top of the pile. It showed Rachel as a preteen with two other kids and her mum and dad. “Nice family. You look like your mum. Your sisters look like your dad.”
She looked at me, and her tears started again. “We were happy once then…” Her mouth moved, but the words would not come.
“It’s okay, Rachael. You don’t have to say anything. You don’t owe me an explanation.”
The next thing she’s in my arms, clinging on for dear life. Her crying strikes an anguished note. I’m worried, but Rachel buried her face in my chest, so I just hold her and stroke her lovely hair and try to reassure her. “It’s all over Rachael. The past can’t hurt you now if you don’t let it.” She looked up. Saucer eyes overflowing. I wiped her tears with my thumb as they skated down her cheeks.
“Not so beautiful now, hey Tom?”
“I’ll cut you some slack because of previous good behaviour. “
She gave a snotty laugh and found a tissue in her jeans. “I’m tired of lying. Why should I feel guilty about something that was beautiful, just because other people think differently? I want to tell you something Tom. Because I think you can listen and not judge me. Am I right?” I nodded. “Can you understand a loving relationship with someone society says you should not have that relationship with?”
I took the tissue and wiped her eyes. I knew what she was hinting at. It prompted me to share something I never thought I could say to someone outside our relationship, let alone a stranger I only met four hours before. “Rachel, I am in a wonderful relationship with a lady twenty years older than me. She could not have children and given our age gap, there is inevitably a maternal element, often when we are making love. We’re not related, but the sense of taboo excites us. I’ve found nothing comparable in a conventional relationship. I can imagine the intensity of a close family relationship.”
She searched my eyes to confirm the truth. “You know Tom. You understand. Thank God.” She kissed me. It started as a friendly kiss but built. Her tongue searched my mouth. My hands gripped her lovely arse and held her hips against me, so my hardness touched her lower belly. We pulled apart light headed. I looked for answers in her face.
“Tom, I want you to fuck me. I’m swimming in these knickers. But first I have to tell you everything. I’ve been stuck since they died. If you can help me get beyond this, I can get on with the rest of my life.”
“If that’s what you need from me, I’m happy to help.” I kissed her again. This girl had stirred me. I was glad she would not get cold feet.
“It’s a confession, Tom. Except I feel no guilt or shame. I make no apology for it. Can you face that?” I nodded. Rachel smiled. Her hand slid between us. “I don’t think I’ve had one this big before. What I’ve got to tell you might make him even bigger. Pour us a drink Tom.”
We were on the couch. Me sat up, Rachel laying across me. My hard on digging between her shoulders as she shrugged to get comfortable and laughed at my expression. We had two fingers of the brandy which gave a healthy glow to our faces and in our bellies. Rachel held a stack of photos and shuffled them, deciding where to start her story. She went back to the one I picked up.
“We are not a family. That’s me and my mum Julia, and Pete and his two girls, my cousins. That one is Jo-Jo. Mum and Pete are brother and sister. They became lovers when they were young and remained lovers all their lives, despite what it cost them, and us kids. But I don’t blame them. I envy them.” Rachel looked up.
Perhaps she feared anger, or disgust, but all she saw was a smile. “Tell me how it happened Rachel. I want to understand.”
She leaned up and kissed me. “I knew I was right.”
“Mum and Dad divorced soon after this was taken. Pete and his wife followed the next year. I wonder if their partners could see what was going on between brother and sister in this picture. Anyway, once they divorced, there was nothing to stop Pete and Julia from getting back together, except me that is.”
“What did they stop for all those years?”
“They were each tarsus escort other’s first loves. They had girlfriends and boyfriends during their teens, but couldn’t find anyone they felt the same for. Pete went into the Navy for ten years to get away from it. Mum was married with a child when he returned. He married and started a family. We all went on holiday together for several years. This is us camping on the Isle of Wight.”
“Why did they start again Rachel?”
“They said they grew back together. Initially commiserating on their unhappy marriages and then falling in love all over again.”
“How did they tell you?”
“I confronted them with my evidence.” Rachel was pleased to surprise me. “Pete often called round just as I was leaving the house. I saw the way they looked at each other. That day I left the house but crept in through the back door a few minutes later. They were upstairs in mum’s bedroom. The stairs creaked, but I didn’t need them. I eavesdropped using an old baby monitor I hid under her bed before I went out.”
“You were excited, Rachel.”
“I was so turned on by the idea. Does that make me a pervert? I still have the recording. Do you want to hear it?” Her face was flushed and her nipples pointed through her tee shirt.
I sensed this experience loomed over her later sex life. It was part of the thing she wanted to move beyond. “Go ahead Rachel, play it.”
She picked up her phone and found an audio file. Rachel pushed play. A bed creaked on the tinny recording. Rachel pushed stop. “I’ve lost count of the times I’ve masturbated to this.”
I reached for the button on her jeans. “Today, I’m going to finger you to this. Another hand will help break the spell.”
“Yes Tom. That’s exactly right. Break the spell.” She shimmied out of her tight-fitting jeans. Her pale blue knickers were soaked at the crutch. Rachel’s pussy aroma reached my nostrils. She covered her cunt in a moment’s embarrassment.
“It’s a lovely smell Rachel. I need to see you.” She pulled off her knickers, and I put one leg behind my neck, splitting her pretty shaved pussy. “No sneaky teenage wank today. You’re going to watch me finger fuck you until you cum. Do you understand?” She nodded breathlessly. “You can get your tits out and play with the nipples. I’m not doing all the work.” She laughed and pulled off her tee shirt and bra. A lovely twenty-eight-year-old girl was lying naked on my couch. I slipped two fingers into her tight wetness and circled her clit with my thumb. Rachel moaned and pulled her other leg, opening her pussy wider. “Now we are ready to start. Play the file Rachel.”
“You are so wet Julie. You want it as much as I do. Take these fucking knickers off before I tear them off.”
“God, after all these years, it’s still like this. Rub my clit, Pete. Ah, you know my body so well. Rachel is out all afternoon. Let’s get undressed.”
“I think she suspects us Julie. Should we try to tell her?
“What? That we’ve been fucking all our lives. That we’ve ruined two marriages because we love each other more than we’ve ever loved our partners. She would not thank us. Just fuck me hard Pete. When you make me cum it all seems worthwhile.”
There was more of the same stuff, interspersed with moans of passion from both of them. The bed squeaked as they fucked vigorously, picking up the pace. I’d been fingering Rachel for a few minutes. Her copious pussy juice soaked my leg. She moaned in practiced harmony with her mother and uncle. I didn’t know how much longer there was on her recording. Rachel’s reactions gave me a clue. Her head thrashed as she pulled her nipples. Her pussy bucked against my hand.
“I’m almost there, Tom.”
I got my timing right. As her mother cried out on the recording and Rachel followed her, I shifted and put my tongue to her clit and reached for her g-spot. Her orgasm peaked and three times more, as her body surrendered to me.
“God Tom, you’re going to kill me. I can’t keep cumming like this.” Exhausted, Rachel closed her legs and pushed me out. “That was lovely Tom, but you’ve broken my pussy. It keeps tingling.”
I held her face to mine. “Yes Rachael, I broke your pussy. A real man holding you did it. Not the memory of a teenage wanking fantasy. Don’t deny yourself pleasure today by paying homage to the past.”
She looked angry that I had besmirched those memories, then her face softened. “You are right Tom. Sharing them with you has already changed them. If I listen again, the memory will be of listening as a lovely man blew my head off by making me cum so hard. Thank you for that.”
We drank more brandy and kissed and cuddled. Her body fascinated me. Rachel’s tanned flesh was firm and supple. Her tits jumped back into shape as my mouth released her nipples. She laughed at my enthusiasm. “Don’t mock, it might be a few days before my next twenty-eight-year-old.”
I knew her confession was not complete, so it was time to press on. “You taşköprü escort said you confronted them. What was your ultimatum, Rachel? What did you demand for your silence?”
“I’m sure you can guess Tom. I would go out soon after Pete arrived, signalling I knew they wanted to be together. They got bolder. They didn’t close mum’s bedroom door. I got bolder too. Listening to them was not enough now. I had to see them do it.”
My fingers were back in her pussy. Rachel joined mine as we sought her pleasure spots.
“I could see them reflected in mums dressing-table mirror. They looked so care free, so grown up. They explored each other’s bodies without shame. Pete stuck his tongue in mum’s arse and made her cum. She sucked his balls and tried to push them into her pussy. It was too much for me. I’d stand there with my knickers in my mouth, trying to muffle my orgasm, then creep back to my room to fuck myself stupid with my first vibrator. Although I was eighteen and still technically a virgin, I’d wanked boyfriends off and let them finger me, but I wouldn’t do it. They were not the one. They called me a prick teaser. I narrowly escaped rape on one occasion. I knew I had to force the issue with mum and Pete.”
I put Rachel’s hand on my aching cock. “How did you do it Rachael? How did you get Pete to fuck you?” She looked frightened. Apprehensive now we’d reached the last moment of admitting the ultimate taboo. “It’s okay Rachel. Nobody is judging you.”
She took a deep breath and crossed the line.
“I’d stollen an outfit of mum’s and hidden it in my room. While they were making love, I changed into it and walked in on them. It shocked them to see me. I said, `if you like fucking your sister so much Pete, it should be easy for you to fuck her daughter. Look I’ve dressed like her if that helps you. Mum, I want Pete to be my first. He was good enough to be your first when you were younger than me’.”
“Good god, Rachael. What did they say?” It was taking all my control lessons from Audrey to stop myself from cumming as Rachel gripped my cock through my trousers.
“Mum screamed and said no. But Pete was rock hard. She looked at the two of us and said she forbid it. Pete said, she’s known for a long time Julie. She could have made this much worse if she wanted to. She called him a pervert and started crying. I kissed her and said I don’t think you are perverts for falling in love. You couldn’t help it and its cost you so much. She wept as I held her and Pete cuddled us both. She asked if I was sure it was what I really wanted. I said I’d been planning this for two years.”
“Jesus Rachel.” I was struggling to stop myself cumming.
“She undressed me and inspected the condom on Pete’s cock before instructing him to lick me out first. I came so quick it was embarrassing. I made a puddle on their sheet. Pete was beside himself with lust and slipped into me easily. My mum held my hand as her brother took my virginity. It was such a lovely, intimate experience. I watched them fuck afterwards, and we spent the night together. Pete played with both of us and made us play with each other. We felt no shame in giving each other so much pleasure. We would do it often when I came back from university during the holidays.”
I felt the tension flow out of Rachel as she finally let go of secrets she’d carried for ten years. “That was a lovely introduction, Rachel. Much better than a drunken fumble in the back of a car, or at a party with some oik who is just after his hole.”
“I think so too, Tom. But people get hung up on the labels; brother, sister, mother, daughter, uncle, and turn it into something shameful. We are all just people.” She hugged me and started crying. “They are gone now Tom. In that horrible fire. I won’t have that ever again.”
“They are gone, but not forgotten. They still live in your head, Rachel. It’s time to fuck now. Time to show them how we fuck.” I pulled my trousers and pants down. My pre cum dripped on her thigh. “See how I’ve yearned for you Rachel. Suck my cock and tell your mum what it feels like.”
She looked up at me and smiled. She spoke to the empty chair opposite. “Tom’s got a big cock Mum, bigger than Pete’s, see how jealous he is. You could take him, but he’s going to stretch me. Look, I can barely get my mouth around him. You’d love this mum.” She kept up her commentary for our invisible voyeurs. She praised my heavy balls and complained at my hairy arse.
I sat up and faced Rachel away from me with my legs between hers before I opened them. Her pussy gaped at the invisible strangers opposite. I placed my cockhead between her lips. “I want to frighten your mum with what she is getting next.”
Rachel moaned. “Oh, my god Tom. You’re going to fuck my mum, too?”
“She looks like you. I have to.” I eased into Rachel and she groaned. She raised and lowered her pussy on my cock, taking me deeper with each thrust until her lips met my ball hair. “Look at your daughter Julie Bishop. Do you see how she’s swallowed my cock? Tell your mum how it feels, Rachel.”
“It feels lovely mum. He’s in so deep. Tom’s touching my cervix.” Rachael bounced, lost in an erotic fantasy. I splayed her lips and rubbed her clit. I pinched her nipples with my free hand and nipped her neck with my teeth.
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