Community Property

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Asa Akira

by Adam Gunn

copyright 2015

When you marry a woman, you marry her family. Never forget that . . .

Back in the day, when the idea that sexual harassment in the workplace wasn’t that bad of an idea, I had this girl that worked for me. Debbie was cute, and if her clothes weren’t always the most current fashion, if a new blouse was something to be celebrated, I couldn’t complain; after all, the bank we were working for was only paying her $219 a week.

Debbie and I flirted, some of the gang would go out for drinks after work. One Friday night after everybody else went home, I invited her to my apartment ‘to see my collection of antique beer bottles’ and the rest was history. She stayed the night, then she stayed the next too. In the thirty-six hours, we didn’t get out of bed except to use the bathroom and find out what was in my refrigerator and how we might make it into something edible. We didn’t hide our affair very well, my boss gave me a little lecture that came down to ‘don’t do anything that’s going to embarrass the bank.’

We took our time that year, there was no hurry to do anything more than be together. We hit bars and dance clubs, went to every arts fair the city offered, with a group of sixteen of our friends we were at the midnight premier of The Return of the Jedi. In the easy going sexual environment of the eighties it would have been easy for us to sleep around, the cool thing to do was swap girlfriends, I could have had any number of women. But that meant Debbie would have been vulnerable to advances from the guys, and neither of us wanted that. We stayed faithful, it wasn’t difficult. When we met neither of us were accomplished lovers. She’d only had two men before me, I hadn’t had that many more women.

There was some angst when Halloween passed and she asked me if I was coming to her parents house for Thanksgiving. I’d met them already, but now I was going to be presented to the whole family. But it wasn’t any stress at all. There were fifteen or more people in the cramped suburban ranch and each one helped me fit right in. The surprise was Debbie’s sister, Doris. I knew she had a fraternal twin, they’d grown up very close – how could they help it? – but in high school they’d gravitated to different crowds, after their graduation Doris had headed out of state to college. And now she was home for the holidays!

This one was a knockout, blond feathered mane down to the middle of the back, glittered blouse that was filled with her femininity, jeans that seemed to be pasted on – I couldn’t help but notice the camel-toe. She smoked Virginia Slims with a calculated disdain, was the trouble that every man wanted to find. We chatted, with a laugh she accused me of being a capitalist chauvinist, but her innate mirth soothed my feelings. For a few seconds I had an incredible physical desire, I blindly wanted her, but of course, being the good boyfriend, I clamped my appetite. But throughout the afternoon I felt her eyes upon me, baiting me.

With her presence through December my routine with Debbie was disturbed. The two sisters seemed to want to catch up and many nights I spent by myself. Once or twice a week I’d have dinner with both of the girls, and I found Doris was really a nice person, once she decided to take off the mask of her insouciance. Her major was Political Science, she felt strongly about the growing wave of conservatism in the country, her goal was to head to Washington after graduation in a year and a half and get a job in government. Over the pizzas and Chinese food the two sisters would giggle and reminisce. And all the while I felt Doris’s gaze boring in to me.

One night Debbie had a Christmas party to go to, all the kids she met in community college were getting together, and she had a proposition for me. “Hey, why don’t you take Doris out, get to know her a little better.”

“I think I know her fine,” I responded.

“Yeah, but she’s alone tonight, you’re going to be alone, be nice to her . . . for me, okay?”

I caved, told her to tell Doris I’d pick her up at seven. We went downtown, walked past the decorations and into the department store where she wanted to see Santa. I laughed as she stood in line with the seven year olds, and when she sat on the elf’s lap and he asked her what she wanted, she whispered in his ear. Santa guffawed with the joke and gave me a manly look that confused me. Over a dinner of pasta we had a bottle of wine, then another, and when she put her hand on top of mine I didn’t remove it.

“Take me back to your place,” she demanded in the car, and I was at that state of light drunkenness and thought ‘okay!’ While she hit the bathroom I poured us a drink, then lit a candle or two. “Oh, how romantic,” Doris remarked sarcastically, and when we were on the couch she cuddled to me, our lips met. Her hands roamed my body, I was encouraged to do the same. I held her lavish breast in my hand, Doris opened her mouth to my tongue, we wiggled and clutched.

It ataköy anal yapan escort was she that pulled her turtleneck over the long neck, the jet black bra was unsnapped, I was looking at the most perfect breasts I’d ever had the pleasure to visualize, even in my fantasies. They jutted from her rib cage conically, the nipples leapt from the skin, reaching for my mouth. Doris laid back, I crawled on top. Her hand reached for my trousers, my belt was released, my seething cock was encircled by her palm. Clumsily, she helped me disrobe, and when I was naked she pulled her jeans over her hips. The hair of her pubes was well trimmed, thin, the first time I’d ever seen a woman who’s bush wasn’t allowed to roam wildly. I bent below her, she raised her hips, my tongue dipped into the unholy tunnel, tasted her serum. It was sweet, that forbidden spot, and I desired nothing more than to fill it with my sword.

After no more than seconds, she pushed me away, “I’ve been wanting this so bad, fuck me!” Again, the first time I’d ever heard profanity during the deed. She flipped, knelt, presented her rump to me, I knew my place. It was waiting for me, that delightful cunt, I only had to stand behind her, point my prick, push.

And I couldn’t. My mind screamed at me, ‘What the hell are you doing? You’re not only screwing around on your girlfriend, you’re doing it with her sister! Christ, what kind of cretin are you? Stop it!!!’ I could have ignored my conscience, taken this most beautiful and willing woman. I’m sure I would have had a great time, I might have even gotten away with it. It might have been a wonderful memory through the ensuing decades, a high point of my life.

When I backed away and told Doris, “I can’t,” she looked over her shoulder with a shocked demeanor. “You’re sure?” was all she said, and when I nodded, she picked up her clothes, walked slowly into the bathroom. But before she closed the door, she turned to me, displaying that phenomenal body, the legs that reached all the way up, the flat belly, the breasts that flowed like twin volcanoes, the crevice between her legs that longed to be impaled with the cock of a man. For thirty seconds she stood there, letting me simmer, and when I’d had a chance to reconsider the awful choice I was making, she loudly proposed, “You’re absolutely sure? This is your last chance.”

Regretfully, I acknowledged the idiocy of the situation. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

She turned, the rump that consisted of two perfect orbs was revealed, the voice echoed from the bath, “Okay.” And the door was closed.

She gave me plenty of time to put my clothes on, to regain the scraps of dignity I owned, to curse myself for seven kinds of fool. When the door opened again, she was dressed perfectly, the blond hair flowing, the lipstick I’d tasted perfect. “Can I get you anything?” I offered.

“We’d better not, I don’t think I’d want the disappointment again. Can you just take me home?” There was more anguish in the tone than fury. The drive was silent, save for David Bowie flowing from the cassette deck, when we reached the block her parents lived on she had me stop fifty yards from their door.

She reached over, pulled my face to her, for a long moment our lips touched, our tongues weaved. Then her dark eyes surrounded by long lashes searched mine and she proclaimed, “You’re an idiot. My sister deserves you.” The door was opened, I watched her walk away in her leather jacket, that tremendous ass swishing, and I had no choice but to regret my chivalry. I slept but little that night.

The next morning I got to work, a few minutes later Debbie arrived, a crisp face, a joyful posture. “Did you and Doris have a good time last night?”

“It was fun,” I responded.

“I’m so glad,” she smiled, and agreed quickly when I suggested a tête-a-tête that night. I burned for her all that day, as soon as the books were balanced we drove quickly to my place, she understood my need, stripping quickly and bouncing on the bed. She didn’t seem to mind when, less than fifteen minutes after we started, I spewed deep into her. That didn’t stop us, we were furious for each other, we didn’t slow down for food or drink. An hour later she presented her ass to me and begged me, for the first time, to penetrate her virgin anus.

Less than a week later we celebrated the Christian holiday. I attached myself to Debbie’s entire family as we attended their parish for Christmas Eve worship, singing ‘Oh Come All Ye Faithful’ and ‘Silent Night.’ Later we exchanged gifts in their living room. Doris was collected and quite cool; it was as if we hadn’t seen each other naked, the unfinished passion had never happened.

The week between the holidays I saw Doris a couple times, a dinner, a party. Other than an occasional smirk at me, she seemed warm but not particularly cozy, we coexisted without rancor. Just after the stroke of Midnight, as the year merged into the next, we kissed for luck, just the ataköy bdsm escort requisite peck. Two days later, she was heading back to her campus, the strain I felt was lifted.


Debbie and I were in love, or the youthful emotion that passes for the predicament, and in the early summer we traveled with another couple we were close to. Our destination was Niagara Falls and at dusk on the bank with the torrent flooding by us I knelt and showed Debbie the ring I’d selected, said the requisite four words to which she replied, “Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” and we were applauded by the nearby gawkers. Her mother and she went to work, we were married in the fall by their pastor.

Less than two years after the ceremony Debbie revealed she’d missed her period, we had a girl, followed three years later by my son. For two and a half decades we had a life not much different from millions of others, sports and celebrations, sicknesses and minor wounds, three houses, each larger and grander than the last, promotions and disappointments, quibbles and catastrophes, but mainly the joy of a successful and happy marriage.

Our families were a part of our lives, our parents retired, grew old and one passed on to the next world. Our siblings had children we cherished. And, of course, there was Doris. Her life was not quiet. After college she headed to Washington, got a job with a congressman, was let go with some rancor, apparently there had been rumor of an infidelity. She traveled from city to city, two weddings and the same number of divorces, until she was in her late forties. Physically she’d aged well, her beauty remained. When she came to visit and we’d meet in a lounge, I’d watch the men lust after her and I couldn’t but join them. I wondered if age and gravity had much effect on those lovely breasts, if her arse was still as bewitching. But nothing in those decades ever passed between us, no talk of the near infidelity we’d been complicit in. When she would give me a kiss on the cheek, I wondered if she remembered that illicit behavior years ago, possibly cared after the profusion of men that had shared her charms.


I picked the house phone up, Debbie was out shopping. “Hi, Jon, it’s Doris.”

“Hello, how are you?”

“Fine, just grand. Listen, I’m coming into town for a few days, I was wondering if I could use your guest bedroom?”

“Sure, of course. What’s going on?” There was no reason for her to be visiting, no one sick, no weddings or funerals.

“Oh, the University wants to talk to me, they may have a job open.”


“Yes, I’ll tell you and Debbie all about it when I get there.”

“Can we pick you up?”

“No, I’m fine, I’ll rent a car at the airport. See you Sunday!”

There she was, standing on our porch, after she and Debbie embraced, she gave me the family hug, I took her suitcase to the guest bedroom. We went out to dinner that night, Doris told us of the job offer, a teaching position in the school of Political Science. We were excited for her, Debbie was particularly happy. “Oh, we’ll see you all the time then!”

“If I take it, but I might not.”

We had an after dinner drink in the living room before I headed for bed. Sometime later, I was woken by the familiar caresses of my wife, she was dragging me to her body, stripping me of my pajamas, taking my member into her mouth. With my hands I gave her what she needed, she had to stifle herself not to give away her implosions to the other woman sleeping in the room on the other side of the hall. She wanted to take me in cowgirl, I allowed her the boon, I came well, my fluids filled my wife, she seemed happy, satisfied.

We laid together, reclaiming our breath. “Well, that was a surprise,” I complimented.

“Sorry,” she giggled, “I just had to have you. You know being around my sister always gets me going.” She was right, we always seemed to have better sex, and more of it, when Doris was in the locality.

“Why is that?” I wondered.

“I don’t know. Well, maybe it’s that she gets to do what I always wanted to do.”

I was shocked. “You want to sleep with other men?”

“No! Oh, no, no. I don’t really want to do it with them, but when Doris is around I see what she does to men. Look at the way you were looking at her tonight! You wanted her so bad again, I could see it, and I guess the thought of it just makes me sexy.”

I tried to deny it. “Oh, honey, I don’t want your sister. I’m fine with you, you know that.”

“Sure you do. You don’t have to deny it, I don’t mind.”

The pregnant word ‘again’ echoed in my skull. “Honey, you don’t think I’ve ever done anything with her, do you?”

“Just that one time. And ever since, you’ve been the perfect gentleman.”

“What one time?”

“Before we were married, we weren’t even engaged, remember? It was that first Christmas together. I knew it would happen, I didn’t mind.”


“Yeah. ataköy elit escort I even encouraged her. You see, I thought you were a great lover. But what did I know, I didn’t have any experience, and Doris knew everything about sex. So I told her if she wanted the two of you could, you know, and then she could tell me if I was right.”

“And what did she tell you?”

“That you were very romantic, that your penis is larger than normal, and that I was lucky to get a lover like you.”


“Of course, I was worried that you’d like her more than me, but when you begged me to come over the next night and we had that great sex, I knew you loved me. So everything was just fine. Remember?”

I thought for a few seconds, then I knew I had to correct her. “I want to tell you my side of it. Certainly I remember those two nights. I didn’t want to go out with Doris that night . . . “

“Why not?”

“Well, I had work to do. And maybe I was a little afraid of what might happen. But you were pretty insistent, so I went ahead. We got drunk, and when she asked if I had any more wine at my apartment I invited her back. But I didn’t have any idea that anything was going to happen. But then, well, she sort of threw herself at me, and played around a little bit, but I broke it off before anything happened. That’s the absolute god-honest truth!”

She smiled. “So, you didn’t have sex with her?”

“No, we didn’t.”

“So how does she know you’ve got a big dick?”

“Well, she felt it, with her hand.”

“Did you touch her?”

I had to be honest. “Yes. We got naked.”

“And did she give you oral sex?”

“No. But I did it to her. As a matter of fact, she’s the last girl I ever did anything at all with.”

“You big lug!” She tousled my hair, the heat started to rise again in the martial bed. I kissed her breasts, and yes, I wondered if Doris’s tits were still as wonderful as they’d seemed that night. When I touched Debbie’s g-spot, I recollected the magic of Doris’s slippery tunnel. And when Debbie came, I truly wished that all those years ago I would have placed my tool inside of Doris, had given her what she wanted to take from me that night.

For the second time we were calming, my wife questioned, “So you chickened out at the last moment with Doris, huh?”

“I didn’t chicken out, I just decided I should be faithful to you.”

“Awwww.” We cuddled for a few moments, then she said, “Well, you’re an idiot. But I love you. Listen, I’m only going to tell you this once. I’m pretty sure Doris wants to take you to bed. And I know you want her badly. So if anything ever does happen, I won’t mind.”

“I would never . . .”

“Shush! If it happens with Doris, it happens. It would be just fine with me. But no other girls, okay?” She wouldn’t let me respond, wouldn’t let me tell her that I would never, she just went to sleep, her head on my shoulder.


Like everyone else, I have my urges. Let’s suppose I’m trying to lose a little weight, and there’s a candy bar in the cupboard. Even though I know it’s not good for me, even though I know I shouldn’t, I want to eat that candy bar! Doris was like that. For a very long time.

Doris wound up taking that professorship, we helped her find an apartment not far from the college. The two sisters joyfully regained their close friendship, they had solitary dinners, but just as often we met Doris at a restaurant or Debbie cooked for the three of us. If there was a family event, Doris came, she always seemed to have the biggest and hippest presents at birthdays. And all through it, not a word was ever said between Doris and I about my urge, if I caught her glancing at me wistfully I assumed I was making it up.

Doris had boyfriends, we knew of them, at least a couple of them, we even met one at a pub. A couple of years went by, my fiftieth birthday approached, plans were made for a blowout at my parent’s house. It was in the summer, I love the fact that my special day has always been nice and warm, the sister’s celebration is always held in the season of frost. A tent was pitched in the back yard, over fifty people showed up, I was showered with love. A couple of hours after the catered buffet was over, people started to drift off. It was down to a dozen or so adults, we’d had too much beer and wine but just the right amount of laughter.

I moseyed out to the garden in the darkness with my wife, the adjoining woods were quiet, the fireflies flickered around us. For awhile we reminisced, she made sure I was happy, I assured her my life was perfect. Then she headed back to the party, telling me I should rejoin the group before too long.

But I didn’t really want to be with all the other people, I was simply letting myself fly a little, wondering where my life would end up. Behind me I heard footsteps, a soft hiccup. “Sit down,” I offered.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Doris agreed, and beside me on the sturdy wooden swing built for two we swayed. She’d worn a sun dress that day, in the gloom I could discern those legs, still long, still svelte. She refilled my glass with the bottle she’d brought with her. “Fifty years, huh?” she remarked. “One hell of a long time.”

“I guess. Sometimes it doesn’t seem like it. You know, you’ll be here in January.”

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