Seduction of a Lonely Sister

Evan quietly chuckled. He seemed to enjoy the idea that his little sister was a promiscuous slut. If it weren't for that time in the Riverboat, my life would have been different. After the sex I had on the Riverboat became common knowledge, I was never without a date, it seemed, and every single man who dated me wanted a little intimacy at the end of the date. Well, more like a lot of intimacy. You know how it is.

Some of them did not get all they wanted, and left frustrated, but then again, some of them did in fact get everything they wanted. I must say, I had a wild time, before I got back together with Bernard! It was fun. You know, though, I could never figure out whether or not I regretted what I'd done in the Riverboat. Besides, bottom line, aren't nurses kind of expected to be sluts? Many of us (but not all; certainly not all!) at Columbia Presbyterian surely were.

Evan was still on top of me on the bed during our little discussion, and his cock was still pressed against my pussy. Thanks be to God for those two thin fabric coverings. Evan was literally knocking at the entrance to my soul. "You know you want to, Michelle. You know I love you," Evan said.

"If you love me, you'll respect my wishes. Please, Evan; I'm not ready for incest," I said. "Maybe some other time." This was my vintage playbook. Just keep putting men off until oblivion happens. Usually it works, too. Sometimes, though, it doesn't.

"Okay," Evan replied, to my shock, my glee, and to my relief. He got off me, his cock brushing my wet pussy, again through the fabric, which seemed to be getting thinner and thinner, as he got off the bed. Obviously, the brush-by was intentional. He could see the wet spot on my panties, so he knew what he was doing to me, all right. "Let's get drunk and stoned, and we can try this again. I have some killer weed I brought from Indiana."

"I'd have to get very, very drunk, Evan." Evan didn't know this, I hope, but if a man gets me drunk enough, and I'll do almost anything. And I have. I said, "And you also know, of course, I'm on call, so I can't smoke or drink. Much. I love you, Evan, but you're not getting lucky tonight."

Evan lounged around in only his tight white underpants. He looked good, I had to admit: intense eyes, a six pack, and fabulously muscular legs. He also had the perfect amount of chest hair. He looked a lot better that Doctors 1, 2, and 4 did, that's for sure! Too bad he's my bleeping brother. (Doctor #3 is a hunk, so Evan had met his match in the looks department, there.) No way am I comparing Evan to Chip.

"When you say you have to get very, very drunk, is that what happened on the Riverboat?" Evan asked. There it was. He knew about it. Shit, shit, and bleeping shit!

I ignored his comment about the Riverboat. That was ten years ago! Will I ever live it down? If only there hadn't been all of those damn pictures posted on the Internet. Well anyway, with time, the pictures get harder to find, and people lose interest, right? Maybe not my brother, but people in general.

I got us drinks and some munchies and we sat and talked about our hopes and dreams. I was surprised at how encouraging Evan was about my own hopes and dreams. I was beginning to like him. I know this sounds strange, but we had never really spoken to each other as two adults before. I almost felt like I was getting to know my brother, as a person and as a man, and not just as a brother, for the first time. Had he not been my brother, I would have dated him in a heartbeat, and probably gone to bed with him on the third date or something like that. However, he is my brother, and that's just not going to change, is it, now.

"What do you for sex, Michelle? You're worked to the bone as a nurse here, especially now, during the pandemic," Evan said, from out of the blue.

"Where did this come from?" I asked.

"It seems a reasonable question. I know you've had affairs with four of my colleagues at the hospital, at least, and that you ended all four of them," Evan said.

I almost fainted. "How on earth do you think you know such a thing?" I asked, my stomach rising, and my heart sinking, both at the same time.

"Oh, I know more than that. A lot more. For example, you and Martha get top marks for blowjobs, while you and Anika get top marks for fucking. Word is, you won't do anal, which personally I know is not true, and Maria is reputed to be the first choice for anal sex," he said.

"You get top marks for being a boor," I shot back at Evan.

Ignoring me, Evan continued, "Personally, I think it's pretty impressive everyone thinks you're the best lay of all the nurses. Well, of all the nurses who are single and will date, that is."

"Flatterer," I said, while flipping him the bird.

"They've all suggested I take you out for a spin," he said, smiling malevolently.

"You know, I've never really known how disgusting male doctors can be. Are you making this up, Evan?" I didn't believe him.

"Mostly, yeah," he said, and he laughed. I laughed too, mostly in relief. "Although," he continued, using the doctors' names, but I'll use their numbers here, "Doctors #2 and #4 did tell me they thought you were as hot as a firecracker."

"Doctor #2 is married, and Doctor #4, well, never mind," I said

"No, what?" Evan pushed a little. I resisted explaining myself, but Evan just kept pushing and pushing. Eventually I gave in, and said:

"I heard Doctor #4 gave one of the nurses an STD, is all. I don't like trafficking in rumors, Evan," I said, not really lying, but not telling the whole truth. "Look, do you want to stay for dinner? I could make pasta, or we could order some take-out."

"Yes, that would be great. If I may ask, Michelle, why were you almost naked in your apartment when I dropped in?" Evan asked.

I'm sure that I blushed. "It's my apartment. I may wear or not wear what I want," I replied.

"Uh huh," Evan replied.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, Evan!"

"All I can say, sweet sister of mine, is that my goodness but you looked fine. Pretty, and sexy both, and your boobs are to die for," he said.

"On second thought, I'll eat dinner alone. It's time for you to go, Evan," I said, as icicles dripped from my words, I'm sure.

I ended up making pasta. Evan wanted me to cook topless, but I quoted Mick Jagger to him: You can't always get what you want. Evan looked at me, lasciviously, and he replied, "But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need." After dinner, with each of us limited to one glass of red wine (both of us being on call), I excused myself to clean up the kitchen.

As I stood at the sink, rinsing off the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher, Evan came up behind me, and he placed his hands around my waist. I froze. He then pushed my hair aside and kissed my neck. His kisses were tender and loving, and I temporarily forgot he was my brother; he became, quite simply, a sexy, loving man, trying to seduce me.

I don't think Evan knew this, although he might have, but one of my fatal flaws is that if a man I find sexy is at the same time tender and loving, and eventually, during the conquest, somewhat brutal, then he can have his way with me. I become a pushover for anything he wants. It's not a trait that I'm proud of. I had to stop things, while I still could. The rest of the dishes could wait.

We went to what passed for my living room, sat on the love seat, me in my T shirt and panties, and now Evan had on his shirt too, since my apartment is cold, and a bit drafty, in the winter. Evan convinced me to tell him about the Riverboat incident. I explained I had told nobody, ever, but he pointed out that he's family, and he'll stop pressuring me for sex, at least for that night, if I told him.

The promise to stop pressuring me for sex won the day. I was on the verge of surrendering myself to him, and any way to stop myself from doing that was like a life raft at that moment. I was a shipwreck. I knew the moment I allowed Evan to fuck me, to possess me, that my life would change irrevocably. We would share mutual lust forever. I guess we already did, but unrealized lust is categorically different than realized lust.

So, I did it. I told Evan about the Riverboat. It's a story I'm ashamed of, and have told to nobody, even if everyone at my college seemed to know all about it, only days after the event. The effect the Riverboat incident had on my at the time future, and now former, husband Bernard, was profound, indeed.

I began the story:

"I went on a Riverboat ride on the Ohio River with some friends, and it was tons of fun. We all gambled a little bit, drank way too much booze that someone had smuggled on board from the Kentucky side, and I got rip roaring drunk. We also smoked too much dope. You know how it is when you're in college, right? We all did; everyone in our group did.

"After the gambling, and the partying, things were winding down, and I found myself on a couch, sitting between two guys: Chip, and Bill. Bernard and I weren't yet married, of course, but anyway Bernard wasn't there, and I was fine with that, since we had been fighting all the time.

Bernard was off with some slut from Kentucky whom he had been lusting for (I knew who she was; she was Stephanie, one of my casual friends), and I was ready to show him two could play at that game. (Kentucky is the epicenter of the country for sluts, I'm sure.) I was feeling no pain, and feeling frisky, and remember, I was only 19 at the time. Anyway, Chip surprised me, by kissing me. I surprised myself by kissing him back, and even opening my mouth.

"The kiss lasted a while, and then hands turned my head, and Bill kissed me. This surprised me too, but I suppressed a giggle and kissed Bill back. I was insecure, since Bernard had been ragging on me, telling me I was ugly, worthless, and no longer sexy, so having two men favor me with their attention and kisses felt mighty fine, just then. Bill and I kissed a long time, and then I felt my head turn back to Chip, and he kissed me again. Then Bill, then Chip, then Bill, then Chip, and it continued for quite a while. My giggles interspersed it all.

"As I kissed the two men they slowly, gradually, even very gradually, but always affectionately, undressed me. I think they expected me to stop them or to slap them at some point, but I didn't. I just let it happen. Soon I was sitting there, on deck in plain sight of a few of our friends, mind you, barely wearing my blouse, as it was unbuttoned and open, hanging loosely down, and partially exposing my boobs. The only other clothes I still had on, were my panties. The men began to add my boobs to their kisses, every so often. Everyone who wanted to, at this point, could see my nipples. The whole boob enchilada.

"It was then that I realized I'm an exhibitionist. It turned me on something fierce to have our friends watching the two men kiss and undress me. I was in some kind of hormonal overdrive: an estrogen storm? I discovered to my surprise that I love being watched; it fuels me.

"There was no place to go for privacy, so right there on the deck, when Chip pulled off my panties, everyone could see my bush. Chip hid my bush pretty quickly, however, with his head, as he kissed and licked my snatch and drove me crazy. Meanwhile, Bill stopped my giggling by kissing me and using his hands to play with my tits. My giggling would have stopped anyway, since it was destined to be replaced by some small, discreet, moans.

"You might be able to guess what happened next?" I paused.

"Chip replaced his head with a different body part, at your bush?" Evan asked. He was enjoying this all too much. "And with everyone watching, right?"

"Right. Some of my friends had their phone video cameras out and running, too," I said.

"How long did it take before you climaxed?"

"You have to understand, I was sexually aroused beyond all belief. I had never known before what a flagrant exhibitionist I am, but having my friends, as well as a few complete strangers, watching me get ravished, was this huge turn-on. Also, Chip is not bad in the sack, or in this case, on a couch on the deck of a Riverboat," I said.

"So how long before you climaxed?" Evan persisted.

"The first time?"

"Hoo-boy! Are we talking multiple orgasms?" Evan asked. I could see he was hard. I myself was wet from reminiscing.

"Yes. Yes, we are. The last one was when he emptied his balls inside me. That orgasm was over the top!" I said.

"Unprotected womb?" Evan asked. He was practically drooling, at this point.

"Of course not. I was on the pill. I had been going with Bernard, remember?" I said.

"That's quite a story," Evan said. He was impressed, and turned on, both. I was relieved; I thought he might think less of me, like that I was a slut or something.

Relieved and emboldened, I said in a small voice, "There's more."

Evan looked at me. His eyes were filled with awe. "Do tell," he said.

"We can't forget about Bill, who had been kissing me and making love to my boobs. He took Chip's place and fucked me to two more orgasms. At the end I was screaming. Screaming in a good way, of course," I said.

"You must have been wasted by the time Bill added his spunk to Chip's," Evan observed.

"I was. Totally. In fact, I was too wasted to fight off Alexis, who decided to eat the cum of the two men out of my pussy. Steve and Mark undressed her while she ate me out, while I was whimpering happily, and then Steve fucked her rear entry as she continued to eat me out, making her tongue rock sexily into and out of my pussy. It was really something to see, as I know from later watching the videos of the five of us going at it. Mark wanted to fuck me when Alexis was done with me, but for the first time in my life I said 'No.' It felt good to say no. I've had to say no quite a bit ever since," I said.

"We were asked to leave the Riverboat at the next stop," I concluded.

"I can imagine. How did Bernard take it all? He still married you a couple of years later, after all," Evan asked.

"He was humiliated, and men don't like that. I'd seen him happier than he was when I confessed everything. I softened it and lied, saying someone slipped me some drug," I said. "I added if he had come on the Riverboat, none of it would have happened. I actually made him feel guilty for causing my misfortune."

"Oh, you're good," Evan said.

"Aren't I, though?" I said, smiling, and once again feeling pleased with myself.

**

Life continued. It does that. I had read Evan the riot act about dropping in unannounced. He had my temper flaring, when I told him he might interrupt me in the middle of sex that way, and he laughed. He actually laughed at the prospect! Luckily, Evan knew, having grown up with me, that one does not anger me profoundly and live to talk about it. He left quickly, apologizing, his serpent's tail between his legs, backing away, promising never to "drop in" on me again unannounced. Once he left, it was my turn to laugh.

After Evan left, I looked out the window, saw him wandering around the neighborhood, wondering what he was up to. Then he left quickly in the direction of the subway to head to his own apartment. As time passed, and the demands of my job increased, something I had thought was not even possible, thoughts of Evan crossed my mind less frequently.

Evan told me, the next time I saw him, that one of my neighbors across the street had a telescope pointed at my apartment. He could not tell for sure, but it looked to him as if it had a camera attachment. If so, it could have specially coated low-light lenses that make the dimmest apartments seem as bright as high noon, and would be the 'perfect toy' for a dedicated voyeur. I just smiled, a picture of innocence.

I had noticed the telescope myself, of course. Our Dad had one to look at the stars, or so he said. Both Evan and I suspected, though, that when he thought nobody would know, he aimed it out the window right at the Smithers farm, where the hot-to-trot Melanie Smithers live. One time he forgot to re-point it at the sky, and Evan took a peek through it, and he actually saw Ms. Smithers getting ready for her post-workout shower. He told me all about it, hee, hee.

I'd see Evan from time to time at work. We did work in the same hospital, after all. Evan however was rotated to the ER, and I was continuously stuck in the ICU, being one of the more competent nurses in that unit. The ER was just as intense as the ICU, however, since the Covid cases came into the hospital relentlessly, and were often accompanied by the normal medical emergencies of the beforetimes (ie, before Covid). There were the car accident victims, the heart attacks, the old-age dementia, the diabetics with too much or too little insulin, the drug overdoses, the battered wives, and luckily more rarely these days, the rape and gunshot victims.

Both Evan and I got the vaccine. All the doctors and nurses at the hospital did. We were among the first in New York to get vaccinated. Most people, however, had not had the vaccine, and the Covid cases kept arriving relentlessly.

What really made it all upfront, and personal, was when my old friend and occasional lover Chip was admitted to the ER, with a bad case of Covid-19. Nothing seemed to work with Chip, and in less than 48 hours he was in the ICU, receiving oxygen. Monoclonal antibodies are not allowed if you are at the stage where you need oxygen continuously. I'm not sure why, but that's the way it is.

I spent all the time I could with Chip, standing next to him and holding his hands. He had been a strong man, an athlete, full of life, of fun, and of hope, always smiling and always with a good word for everyone. He had changed my life on that Riverboat ride, years earlier, and I felt I owed him a lot. Mostly, though, I felt an unstoppable outpouring of love. It was all I could do not to cry in front of him.

Chip had refused, in writing, to allow intubation, which is a last-ditch effort to save a patient. I watched as his life force slipped away. Moments before he died, he squeezed my hand. I will remember that slight squeeze to the end of my days. It was heart breaking, and I fell apart. I was not the first nurse, nor even would I have been the first doctor, to have a breakdown from too much tragedy, especially a tragedy involving a man you have loved, and still do love, in some deep, abstract way.

Everyone was understanding, and I was given time and space, and access to a therapist. I felt guilty and self-indulgent with my grief, which was preventing me from working and helping to save the lives of a relentless stream of my fellow human beings. The therapist was a huge help, as were some boutique antidepressants she prescribed for me. A week later I was back at the front lines. I was once again a changed person, but I had returned to the front lines. That's who I am, I guess.

Time ground on. Doctor #3 came around, but I sent him away. I was now seriously off men. As time went on, and the month changed to February, and I saw the bright red hearts decorating the local CVS, it dawned on me that Valentine's Day was due to makes its inevitable annual appearance. This was to be one of the few Valentine Days that I was without a date; without a man.

So be it, I thought, thinking of Chip, now in his grave. His family had his body shipped back to Cincinnati for burial. His grave marker was to be installed in around three weeks' time. I wanted to be there, but I couldn't afford the time off in order to go, plus I was still scared of the health risk of airplane travel. His mother was going to send me a picture. Apparently, Chip had told her all about me. That news provoked yet another flood of tears.

I had made some friends with the other nurses, and one in particular, named Savannah, who grew up in nearby Illinois (downstate, not the Chicago area). See too was a fish out of water in New York City. She too had lost a loved one due to Covid. She came over for dinner, and we had a good cry together. I discussed with her how Chip dated me after the Riverboat incident.