The door to the kitchen opened. Her husband looked into the kitchen, wanting to see, to eat. The sister said that we had a conversation, asked to go to dinner with her parents, at the same time and see the child. The door closed. She looked scared in the mirror on the wall:

- You see what you've done ...

I got up, in the mirror I was a shaggy, with a pumped lips and hickeys on my chest a beautiful happy woman ...

- And if he did not want to eat? He would instantly see everything ...

The sister deftly paraphrased the vice in the “immaculate”, i.e. if sex is protected, then there is no incest at all, it’s just a variant of sexual relations without conception.

I asked a counter question about the moral aspects and there is no 100% guarantee of any of the means of protection.

Instead of an answer, a silent preening began, when the traces of passion were smeared, toned, and almost puttied, she again sat on the table and put the legs on the chair on which I was sitting, although there was absolutely free chair next to it. Stockings appeared on the legs, as a sign of something that she had not yet invented.

Instead of an epigraph: “Truth is too strong a medicine to be used in large doses, poisoning is inevitable, even deadly.”

Charge of incest evasion

Obviously protecting me from death, she spoke, giving out a new portion of truth under the sauce of what I was to blame for, diluting my attention with the movement of the fingers and legs literally under my crotch:

- We were together, you were happy with me, as I was with you, I felt it well. There were joint projects, and we were attacked like thunder from the sky, your and my mummies and my ancestors with their prejudices, and you immediately rushed to your mom, justifying yourself that "this serpent has again seduced."

“I would follow you anywhere and be ready for anything for you, but then you were not yet a man.” It turned out to be a sucker, mamunchik, but where would you be a peasant if you grew up without a father.

- We met, forgot what I told you? I said that we can start living in another place, away from everyone. Who cares who we are and what we are. Surnames are different. What then answered?

- Well, damn, yes ... chewed, chewed decision making and chewed on ... And it was all over because of you, smear.

- Two years later, you told me that you want a family. Yes, I was with a friend in a billiard room, I really flooded a viskar with him and let it go, what a fucking unhappy me that I love my brother, and you just ignore me, said, of course, better, only the words were slightly different very emotional.

- He “regretted” me that same evening, the reason was the long absence of sex in both. And so I suffered. Then she came up with the idea that these are all my father's affairs and gave you a sex marathon before the new year ...

- I began to take a diploma, my dad did not give any money, I was annoyed with four annual exams, I did all my undergraduate practice with my legs apart ... I flew again.

- I met my future husband and told everything as though in spirit.

A man, unlike you, spoke out so that he would have to wait for me from Nemer for a long time, a family of such three as if absolutely nothing.

The child has nothing to do with it, he also loves him at the same time (maybe without “as if”). Only he, if you give birth, will work, I will sit with the child, and not throw the same child at the grannies and grandfathers.

- The groom put me in his harsh conditions of living together and said that they say, if she agrees, then we are playing a wedding, but only if she breaks up with me about common feelings he does not understand.

“So I was at your wedding and wanted to talk about love and such ... but you never got the hang of it.”

- I also “stuck out” a mysterious toast:

- I thought I would be the only one in your life. I am glad that another girl won your heart, now two women who love you, not only a sister, but also a spouse.

“It may have been a hint, but you didn’t pay much attention to them, because you were the bridegroom.”The bouquet for some reason fell right into my hands and I got married much pregnant ... Here, something like this, everything happened.

My sister said sadly that she had been waiting a long time, but now everything. But my brother (s) are not capable of male actions at all, and that I am a traitor, that I did not take her with me, that I simply betrayed everything that was our common happiness, that I did not refuse to listen to the parents' opinions, and sarcastically added:

- And your beloved mummy doesn’t like your beloved wife so much, you didn’t even notice, you got married right away, here mom was not a hindrance to you. Your feelings for your sister have never been sincere and I now feel sorry for your wife, because you, bastard, cannot decide who you need. Powder all brains.

Now, it seems that I have done, damn it, business ... After all, there were hints. On a smoke break on a balcony with ficuses, I also remember how we discussed that if we were not relatives, we would ...

It is clear that when I said:

“It's good that you are my sister, if you were a wife, you would never have traveled to a mare with a bunch of stallions ...” She then got upset and became silent.

Now I understand that she thought that I was kidding. But we always talked in jest. And then suddenly he somehow blurted out seriously. And she told me that I was always a joke - a jest or, on the contrary, I wasn’t

understand what I keep in mind ...

And my wife, when she was not at home, gathered that evening and went to my sister, before that they discussed the phone for a long time, my wife roared, like a friend advised that she had to leave, that I stopped loving her and cheating on someone then a student, and she asked her sister to find out who is his mistress, etc.

Then they met, my sister said that my wife would stop thinking about her and finally need to take my husband (this is me) by the ears and shake him a lot to make him come to his senses.

Then, after the trip, my wife found out what exactly her sister had advised to her after long conversations:

- In short, let him (this is me) take a walk with his mistress, his wife lost her coldness from jealousy and an orgasm appeared (which she and her mother never had). And as a result - the desired pregnancy ...

It became boring for my sister to accuse me, my toes skillfully kneaded my reproductive organs, I heard:

- Have conscience, unfasten ...

“Why are you torturing me, my husband will now return, and I will again be brutally raped with jealousy of you ...”

“Do you want me to do this?”

Call a mobile phone. My question is like hanging in the air ...

She removes my legs from my rebellious central part and cheekily puts it on my shoulders, picks up the phone. Leans back on the table and begins a conversation with her husband from a pub.

She loves it - chatting and having sex, talking about how she loves her companion, arousing his fantasy about what happens to her, in principle ...

Covers the handset.

- He, probably, already runs here, let's wind off ...

- No, today is football, I forgot, damn ...

- I will be sick with him, went to the living room, there is a cool armchair, we will be sick all together ... I tried hard to decipher the meaning of her words ...

- Call me, I'll look for exercises, before the match, ring out ...

40 - inch TV "Sonya" hung at eye level, flashed a picture of a green football field, a wide armchair was turned back to the screen.

- Bear in mind that my husband is jealous and has not forgotten that you are now at home, and since he has a chip to be sick with me on a mobile phone, therefore I will hang the whole match on the phone and be sick ...

- Then I went to the station.

- And I, like a fool, will yell with him at the phone? ...

My bulging, uncomprehending eyes once again proved why they call us "goats."

“You got married and slumped a bit because you left me.” You have to synchronize (what word the sly traitor has picked up!) Our movements with what is happening on the screen. I can breathe and scream according to the situation on the field and how do you fuck me, understand?

My not ...