Elizabeth and John Ch. 01

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Dear Readers,

When I first published the story I did not have the help of an editor. I knew I could work more on it and that the idea could be more developed. Then I received the volunteer help of an editor. I would like to say a BIG Thank You to Lindsey Marsh for her editorial help and review. She not only helped me with the grammar, but also made many wonderful additions to the original story line.

Thanks Lindsey, and hope to work with you again soon!

I changed the original story to include 3 parts in order to allow the better development of the characters.

This is Part One.

I hope you enjoy the changes.


Part 1

Elizabeth awoke to the sound of a baby crying. Concerned that the other members of the household would also be awakened she hurried to the cradle, took the baby in her arms and murmured in his ear. As she calmed him she looked through the window at the arid landscape before her and, as she did, memories of the last few months flooded back to her. Her life had changed dramatically. Once a wife and mother with her own house in Georgia, she was now a widow living in Texas with her brother, her own son, Michael, and her brother’s son, John Jnr. – the beautiful little baby she was nursing.

More than a year ago, the last of the US Civil War, she had become pregnant with her first child. Her husband, Peter, an officer in the Confederate Army, was fighting with his regiment in a desperate rearguard action, trying to stop the advance of the Yankee forces as they drove through Georgia on their way to Atlanta. During a brief lull in the fighting he had come home on leave and, worried about the prospect of the fighting threatening their home town, had sent her to her brother’s cotton plantation in Tennessee so that she could have their baby in safety. On the plantation she had lived in relative tranquility with her sister-in-law Susan, while both her husband and brother fought the losing battle to save the Confederacy.

Peter died four months later during the battle for Atlanta, leaving her a twenty-two year old widow with a one month old baby. John, her elder brother, although slightly wounded, had survived the war and had returned to Tennessee. At first she was devastated by her husband’s death but, gradually, with the support of her brother and his wife her life began to assume a semblance of normality. The respite was short-lived as, six months later, tragedy struck again when Susan died while giving birth to her first child, a son.

Like his sister John was devastated by his spouse’s death, to the extent that Elizabeth had feared for a time that her brother was losing his will to live. In his grief he had ignored his son and it was left to Elizabeth, who was still breastfeeding her own son, to look after her nephew, breastfeeding him and treating him as her own.

This time it was Elizabeth who provided support for her brother and, as had happened with his sister, he gradually came to accept his wife’s death. The only time he found it difficult to forget was in the evening, when he was sitting in the parlour after his evening meal. When his wife was alive they had used this time to sit and talk about their day and their plans for the future. Sitting alone or with his sister he found it difficult to accept that his wife would never be there to talk with him again. In a final effort to overcome the pain he did something he never thought he would do; he put the plantation, which had been in his family for three generations, up for sale. In less than a month the plantation was sold to a neighbour and, with the proceeds from the sale and Elizabeth’s inheritance from Peter’s estate, he was able to buy a sizable cattle ranch in Texas near to its boundary with Arkansas.

John was seven years older than his sister; the product of their mother’s first marriage and, according to their mother, had inherited his father’s looks. Elizabeth had her mother’s eyes but, like her brother, looked like her father, an Irishman who had charmed and married her mother five years after her first husband had died. Their personalities and appearances were totally different. John was a large, muscular man with brown hair and grey eyes and a quiet demeanour but, when aroused, was capable of a violent temper. Elizabeth was small and vivacious with creamy skin, fair hair that smelled of jasmine and smiling, sky blue eyes.

At first things went well. The ranch, which they had named ‘Hope’ in the belief that it offered them the opportunity for a new life and a new beginning, had good grazing and water, the herd had prospered and the farmhouse had proven to be comfortable, if not luxurious. They had lived in harmony with Elizabeth running the house with the assistance of their housekeeper, Mrs. Bennett, and John running the ranch. All their lives Elizabeth and her brother had got along well although, like most elder brothers, he was a little possessive of her, but as he had always uşak escort been like that she had grown used to his ways. Then, six months after moving, things changed.

They had made it their custom to travel once a month to the nearest town to buy supplies and do their banking. On this occasion she was excited as it was over a year since Peter’s death and, by convention, this meant that she no longer had to wear dull mourning clothes. She had dressed in what had been her husband’s favourite gown. A sky blue, it fitted her perfectly, emphasising her slim figure and matching the colour of her eyes. She had arranged her hair in a loose bun on top of her head and had completed her outfit with a little blue hat that matched her dress. As she climbed into the wagon and sat at her brother’s side he looked at her with a shocked expression making her laugh but her amusement was cut short when, after surveying her from head to toe, he frowned and said,

“Elizabeth, what’s the meaning of this? Why are you dressed as if you’re going to a party? We’re not going to a ball!”

Furious at his attitude, she answered,

“I’m not dressed to go to a party, you fool! When Peter was alive I often wore this gown, even when we went to church, and he never once complained. On the contrary, whenever I wore it he always said that it matched the colour of my eyes and that it made me look beautiful!”

Without answering, he turned away and set the wagon off in the direction of town.

Elizabeth soon forgot his criticism and turned her thoughts to what she would do when they got to town. On their first visit she had enjoyed the atmosphere created by the presence of returning civil war soldiers which had lent the normally staid town an air of excitement and which was something she had missed on the ranch and at the plantation. On the other occasions they had been into town she had been forced to take John Jnr. and Michael with her and had been so busy with the children that she hadn’t had time to make new acquaintances or to enjoy the town’s few amenities. This time, as John Jnr. had just started to eat solid food and she was restricting breastfeeding to the night-time, she had been able to leave both children with Mrs Bennett, as she was anxious to explore the town without the children in tow. A little voice in her head even dared to hope; “Maybe, I’ll meet someone… An honest man, who I can love and who will take care of both me and my son.”

But once they arrived in town things started to go wrong. She accompanied her brother to the bank, where he learned that the documents he was expecting would not be ready until the next day, which would mean staying overnight in town. As they walked down Main Street to the hotel, John became increasingly agitated as he noticed that the eyes of the male passers-by were following his sister and obviously enjoying what they saw.

After they had booked into the hotel and gone to their rooms, he had opened the adjoining door between their rooms and let himself in. Without resorting to niceties, he immediately launched into a tirade, telling her that it was obvious that she had dressed in her gown in order to advertise herself, just like a woman of the street. For the rest of the day, as they walked around the town buying provisions, he refused to leave her alone, introducing himself to strangers as Mr. Harrison and Elizabeth by her married name; Mrs Ward. Whenever they engaged in conversation with any of the townspeople he had his hands around her waist or kept his arm linked in hers. If anyone, in particular men, tried to talk to her, or even looked at her, his demeanour became even more possessive and, coupled with a hostile stare, led to confusion about the nature of their relationship and deterred even the women from talking to her.

By the end of the day she had a headache and, when they finally returned to the hotel, they had their first fight since moving to Texas. Angry at his behaviour, she accused him of trying to scare men off by passing her off as his mistress.

“If you keep doing this everyone will think I’m your mistress. I’ll never be able to find a decent man and marry again.”

“Good God Elizabeth, you’ve got stop this nonsense! I can’t understand why would you ever want to marry again? You’ve got a good life, food and clothing, a house to live in and you know that, whatever happens, I’ll provide for you as I would have done for Susan.”

To Elizabeth her brother’s response merely confirmed his complete lack of understanding of her needs. She needed more than just a provider; she needed someone to love and someone who would love her and to lead a normal family life.

“You say you’ll always provide for me, but that will satisfy only my material needs – it’s not the same thing as having someone to love. You’ll have the opportunity to marry again someday and I’ll be condemned to live the rest of my life without a house or a husband or a family of my own.”

“But you muglalisahidi.com have a family of your own. I’m your family! Little John is your family too! Can’t you see that? What else do you want?”

“I’ve already told you – love! I want and need someone to love… and someone who will love me.”

“Love!? So, that’s the point of all this? This dress… and this ridiculous hat? Well, my dear sister, I need your love and little John needs your love too, so I’m going to give you a warning; don’t ever dream of leaving me. I’d rather die than let another man touch you. In fact, I’ll kill anyone who tries. You’re too good for them and I need you!”

He needed her, his son needed her and he was frustrated that she couldn’t see it. Realising that there was nothing to be gained from continuing the conversation he left her room, slamming the door in anger as he went.

Totally dejected by what she felt was an unwarranted interference in her life she threw herself onto the bed and sobbed. I will find someone… This time I will not obey him… I deserve to be happy she repeated to herself again and again until she calmed down. Finally calm, but still angered by his attitude, she got undressed, washed and, since she had not expected to stay overnight and had no night-dress, went to bed naked. She was exhausted and slept almost immediately.

In the year since his death she had often dreamed of her husband. That night, as she lay sleeping, she dreamed of him and of their life together, but every time that she started to make love to him his face was replaced by that of her brother. Try as she could, every time she looked into the face of her would-be lover, it was her brother she saw. Frustrated by her inability to conjure up her husband’s face she awoke, only to find that she was not alone. Startled, she looked around and saw, in the dim light provided by the moon, her brother lying on top of the covers. As her eyes focussed and adjusted to the light, she realised that he was staring at her intently and, to her shock, wearing only his underwear.

Noticing that she appeared uncomfortable with his near nakedness, he looked at her and said,

“Beth, I’m sorry if I frightened you and I’m sorry if my state of undress is upsetting you but I had to come and tell you that I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you today. You know I’m not good with words, but there are things that I must tell you. I love you, not only because you’re my sister but also because I have come to realise, over the time we have lived together, that you are an extremely desirable woman and someone special to me. You’re sweet, kind, soft and generous. I need you and I need your love. You’re the only mother my son has ever known and neither John nor I can live without you and your love, not now… I can’t even think of you leaving my life.”

In contrast to his earlier belligerence his tone was gentle, almost a whisper, showing her a side of him she had never seen and, as he catalogued his love and need for her, his voice started to comfort her and, as he continued, to seduce her. It had been over a year since she had a man in her bedroom and, even if it was her brother, his words, his presence and his male smell were starting to make her feel things that she hadn’t felt since her husband died. He continued,

“But you’re also a young and very beautiful woman and I’m sure that you must have physical needs just like me. For me it’s an easy problem to solve. I can go to the saloon and get satisfaction from the women there, but you can’t. I’ve also come to realize that there are many things that you don’t know about love between a woman and a man; things that you need to know; things that I need to teach you… Do you know that there is a way you can get physical satisfaction on your own ….without a man? Elizabeth, have you ever played with yourself?”

Although, for the brief time she had been married, she had enjoyed what she had considered a normal sex life, she wasn’t sure what he was talking about. Unable to speak for fear of exposing her ignorance, she just shook her head. He smiled; reassuring her. Softly he asked,

“Do you trust me enough to let me teach you?” Although she was still unsure of his intentions she nodded, feeling safe in the knowledge that she could trust him. He took her hands in his and gently kissed her fingers and then, holding her right hand, he inserted the middle finger into his mouth, sucking it until it became slick and wet. Elizabeth looked at him, mesmerised, her whole body focused on and trying to understand what he was doing with her finger. When he lifted the sheet she tried to cover herself, embarrassed that he was looking at her naked body and afraid of what he was going to do to her. Still holding her hand in his he used the other to caress her hair and murmur to her;

“Hush. You know that you don’t have to be afraid of me. If you listen to me and do what I tell you everything will be fine… I promise that I’m not going to try to make love to you… I’m only going to act as your teacher. Will you let me help you?” She nodded again. She started to tremble from a mixture of shame, excitement and fear. It had been a long time since her husband had died and she wanted to feel pleasure again; she needed it. She forced herself to relax and lay back, resting her head against the head of the bed and closing her eyes.

Holding her hand in his he moved it under the sheet and down her body until it cupped her silky, down covered mound where he moved it in soft, circular caresses until she instinctively parted her legs. Using her middle finger he opened her pussy lips and gently pushed her finger part way into her pussy. Noticing that her pussy was surprisingly tight and only partially wet, he took her finger out of her pussy and placed it on her budding clitoris. He explained,

“I can tell it’s been some time since you’ve been with a man. You’re tight and to enjoy what you are going to do you need to be wet. Take your finger and start moving it up and down right here…you can move it up and down or in a circle… whatever feels best to you.”

Using his other hand he pushed the sheet down until her milk-heavy breasts were exposed and guided her left hand to them.

“Play with your breasts for me. Caress them, pinch your nipples, you don’t have to be afraid of anything, nobody is watching us; you can do whatever you want.”

The sensations she was feeling excited her and she felt powerless to disobey his instructions. She reached for and petted her breasts and brushed her thumbs over her swollen nipples until they puckered in a state of arousal.

“That’s it. Now spread your knees wider… put your finger into your pussy.”

She spread her legs wider, while her right hand moved lightly around and over her clitoris in a slow and provocative caress. As her body responded her breath became ragged, and then, for the first time in her life, she slipped one finger deep inside her pussy.

Watching her play with herself he thought that he had never seen such an erotic sight in all his life. He had loved his wife and had enjoyed their love-making but the desire he felt for his sister went far beyond the feelings he had experienced when making love to her.

“That’s right. Are you getting wetter?”

“Yes. Very,” she replied.

As he watched her move her finger in and out of her pussy, he reached down into his underwear and stroked his cock, seeking his own release. His mind and body were consumed with a desire to make love to her but he knew that he had promised not to touch her. As he became more excited he realised he was starting to lose control and, if he continued, that he would find it difficult keep his promise to her. Determined not to violate her trust he stopped and stroked his cock one last time, sliding his hand slowly over the pre-cum lubricated shaft and groaning in frustration as he did so. Elizabeth was no longer able to hear him. Lost in her own world, a world full of erotic sensations, she knew only that her brother was watching her play with herself and this knowledge both excited her and made her anxious to please him. Her eye-lids became heavy and, as she undulated her hips and fucked her finger, she started to pant. Her breasts swayed, slowly at first, but as she increased the tempo they started to swing, bouncing in tandem with the thrust of her hips.

“Put another finger in.”

She opened her legs wider in response to his command and put in not one but two fingers. Her three fingers filled her pussy, giving her a feeling of fullness she hadn’t felt since the last time she had made love to her husband and prompting her to increase the tempo at which she was finger-fucking herself. Her other hand was teasing and squeezing both her breasts and her nipples; adding to and intensifying the pleasure she was getting from her three fingers.

Something started to build inside her and she started to moan. Her breath became even more ragged and her body slick with sweat. Her fingers began to move with abandon, their motion becoming almost a blur and then, suddenly, her world exploded leaving her feeling as though she had split into a thousand pieces.

As she gradually came down from the high of her climax she realised that, throughout her married life, making love to her husband had never provided her with sensations in any way as intense as those she had just experienced with her brother. Frightened by this knowledge she searched for his hand and, when she found it, held it tightly before she dissolved against the pillows crying softly, her whole body still trembling.

He trailed a series of soft kisses along her upturned face, then her eyebrows, nose and cheek and murmured softly,

“You’re so beautiful Beth, you’re such a beautiful girl, and I love you.”

After a long pause, she slowly opened her eyes and looked at him feeling both dazed and vulnerable. He smiled kindly and asked,

“Did it feel good?”

She nodded unable to speak. Although she had enjoyed everything she had just done she was embarrassed that she had done it in front of her brother.

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