The Unspeakable Sex night

 

First off, I’m not using any names for obvious reasons, and also please excuse any typos – I’m usually pretty pedantic about grammar, but I’m typing with one hand. A minute ago, I was sitting at my desk to write this, but I ended up clicking on the file of pics we took on the night, so now I’m on the bed with my knickers down around my thighs, half–teasing myself, half typing, and really battling the temptation to just give in and relive the night. So, apologies if I write a bit impatiently.

Anyway, last Friday while I was at work, my brother had been over helping my husband lay some new pavers in the backyard. Not that I knew that at the time; they’d arranged it last minute. When I got home, I put a couple of bottles of wine in the fridge and noticed there was a pile of beer already in there. There was a big box of Thai takeaway on the counter too. More than we’d normally eat. But I didn’t put two and two together. When I went down to the bedroom to get out of my work–clothes, I heard the shower running and figured my husband had beaten me to it. But I thought it would be cute to jump in with him and surprise him, so I stripped and went in.

Even when I opened the bathroom door, I didn’t straight away register that the soaped–up body behind the shower glass was not my husband’s but my brother’s. He was washing his hair and his eyes must have been closed because he didn’t notice me come in either. But when I opened the shower door, he certainly heard me. His eyes flicked open to see me standing before him. Stark naked. Boobs out. Eyes widening in their sockets. I doubt it’s an image either of us will forget anytime soon.

I yelped, covered my breasts as best I could with one arm, my lower parts with the other, then backed out as quickly as I could. As I came naked out of the bathroom, my husband was standing there struggling to contain his laughter. He’d heard me arrive home as he was finishing up an email in his office, so he’d come out to warn me that my brother was in the shower and that he was going to be staying for dinner and drinks 

So, there I was, red–faced, and all I could say was: I just saw brother penis.

That cracked him up. He laughed, gave me a big hug, and repeated it in my ear, affecting a dramatic voice. Brother penis. It was the funniest thing he’d heard all week.

It became a bit of a running joke between the three of us after dinner. My husband started calling my brother ‘Brother–Penis’ and then my brother started calling me ‘Sister–Boobs’. I joked that it sounded like a bad setup for a porn vid. My husband joked that it sounded like a good setup, which raised our eyebrows a bit, but by then we’d already had a couple of drinks, so it was just kind of funny.

After dinner I joked that I needed a couple more drinks to help with the trauma, and my brother was like, yeah, that might help. So, we all sat in the lounge and drank. And talked. And drank. And joked. And drank.

 Okay, so I need to explain a little about those two so that you’ll understand what comes next.  They’ve been best friends since they were twelve. They know each other as well as they know themselves. Maybe better. And they share everything.  Not just tools and sports gear and guitars and stuff. They share habits and mannerisms. I even heard that my husband’s mother caught them sharing a Playboy mag when they were 13 and jerking off to it right next each other. (Although a couple of times I’ve asked him if it’s true, and he laughs and winks and says he categorically denies it ever happened.) I could go on, but let’s just say they’re not shy around each other in the locker room.

Anyway, having drinks with them after the whole naked thing was weird. In a good way. It was like the fact that we’d now all seen each other naked had broken some last smidgen of awkwardness between the three of us. Not that there was much to begin with. But I suddenly felt so free with them for some reason. Like I could say anything or do anything without being judged, or without even being self–conscious.  And I think they felt the same.

We were all more than a bit tipsy by the time my husband asked me if I was feeling better about the shower thing, and I said much better, though I wondered if the image of brother–penis would always be etched into my mind. And my brother was like, yeah, it’s not like I’ll be forgetting sister–boobs for a while either. My husband said: well they are rather unforgettable. And my brother did an awkward eyebrow raise of admission that, yes, my boobs were rather unforgettable, while turning his hands up to me: like, what else can I say?

To be honest, I enjoyed the compliment. When my husband poured another round and suggested we play strip poker though, I assumed he was joking at first. But then I wasn’t sure. My brother and I laughed, but my husband suggested it again. He reasoned that we’d all already seen each other naked, and he was willing to bet that brothers and sisters imagined each other naked from time to time anyway, so why not play with some fun stakes?