Just around the time Charlie was preparing to pass-out as a cadet and go to his regiment as a fully fledged officer and cannon-fodder, grist for the British Army’s relentless mill in that pointless killing-zone, to Lucy’s unabated horror and monumental anger, I received a short note from my pervert little brother.
He was asking me if I wanted to attend his graduation ceremony at Kings College, Cambridge, adding a footnote that I if I didn’t want to come he’d understand. Cambridge? The little snot got into Cambridge? Maybe he had some brains; looking the way he did, he was going to need them if he ever managed to land a girl, although I couldn’t imagine any woman in her right mind wanting a spotty specimen like him. I think it would be true to say I was still a little angry over my belief that he’d been perving on me, but conversely, I was proud of him for doing so well, and also a little guilty for cutting him out of my life so completely for almost seven years now.
To be honest, I was also feeling a little sorry for him; we had no other family, so he’d be alone at his graduation. There’d be no-one to take the mantel-piece picture of him in his Graduation robe, no one to stand next to him as he posed in his robe, and no-one to attend the family reception with. I’d had Lucy, and most of our old crew from school, but Gerry had always been a lonely kid, so I wasn’t even sure he’d have any friends to be there for him.
On the day, I arrived two hours early at the address he’d given me, feeling distinctly uncomfortable at the thought of seeing him again after so many years, guilt warring with pity for him; after all, more than a third of his young life had gone by since I’d kicked him out of mine; I wondered briefly who’d been there for him for all the birthdays and Christmases I’d missed (ignored, an even deeper part of me reminded me, you ignored him), a fresh wash of guilt nearly making me turn around and leave, but I squared my shoulders, took a deep breath, and knocked. After a few seconds, a tall slender young Asian man wearing just a towel answered the door, and immediately jumped behind it in embarrassment when he saw me standing there.
“Can I help you, miss?” he asked, peering nervously around the door.
I had to suppress a smile at his sweet modesty in this day and age.
“I was looking for Gerry Boscombe….?”
He smiled even more nervously at me, and ducked back behind the door.
“Please, come in, he’s around somewhere… GERRY! VISITOR!” he yelled, closing the door behind me and bolting for his room, clutching his towel tightly with both hands.
I sat down, looking around a typical male student flat, the smell of takeaways and a faint whiff of elderly laundry uppermost in the room.
“OK, who is it, Ramesh, did they give a name… Oh, Lorna… what are you doing here?” said a deep, soft voice behind me.
I turned expecting to see my brother, with a mental picture of the weedy youth I’d kicked so hard, maybe taller, but essentially still the same; instead I saw a gorgeous, beautifully proportioned, golden-skinned, six-foot blonde man, and what a man, his naked torso rippling with muscle, his arms and shoulders sculpted cables of flexing muscles, and a chest like a movie muscle-man, tapering down to a slim, highly defined stomach and waist. Even his face had changed; gone was that vague, slightly effeminate look that had been his habitual expression; with maturity had come eye-catching looks and high cheekbones, all set-off by his bright blonde hair, fabulous blue-violet dolls-eyes, and white, even teeth; fuck me, he was gorgeous! Even as I stared at him, I felt my pussy give a hitch and a twitch, and felt surprised at the reaction; this was my little brother!
“Why didn’t you say you were coming, Lorna?” he asked, and I stopped nakedly ogling him to answer his question.
“I thought I’d surprise you and give you a present for your graduation.”
I held out his gift, a chunky stainless-steel Breitling Chronomat Evolution watch with the secondary UTC watch built into the bracelet; it was a sufficiently ‘grown-up’ present for a young man of his age, and I thought it might be a way to say sorry for neglecting him for so long, for so little reason. He accepted my gift graciously and grinned broadly, suddenly looking 12 again (from the chin up, at least; everywhere else was all man, and what a man, oh my paws and whiskers, yes!)
“You certainly did that, Lor. I never heard back from you, so I assumed you were still mad at me and you wouldn’t come, but I’m glad you did. Thank you for coming.”
I was trying to control my breathing; for some reason I felt the need to pant, and my heart was hammering as I stared awestruck at this glorious vision of perfect, muscular man-flesh. I had to admit to myself; my brother was a total biscuit, man-child extraordinaire, a banquet of beef beyond fucking belief!
I sat back to catch my breath, my face boiling as I blushed scarlet. I cast around for something to say, something to fill the seven years since I’d last seen hide or hair of him, or even heard his voice.
“I see you’ve grown up!” I quipped, mentally kicking myself for being so inane, me, who prided herself on her mastery of the rapier cut and thrust of repartee and the razor-sharp, biting, witty retort…
Gerry grinned, his blue eyes sparkling as he looked me up and down, giving a quick flick at my high boobs in my slinky dress.
“So have you Lorna, and I have to say, you look even better now than the last time I saw you; only now, you seem to have shrunk; I distinctly remember you being a lot taller than me; and stronger, if that kick was anything to go by!”
I could have curled up in shame at being reminded what I’d done to him; he was only a young teenager; I could have permanently injured him! I started to gabble out an apology, but he just waved it away, instead just grinning at my discomfort, but not in a malicious way.
I stared up at him, and he smiled down at me.
“I was never peeking at you, you know,” he said softly, “I was supposed to feed that idiot cat, I was looking for it in the room next to the shower room when I spotted the hole; I was going to call out to you and warn you, but, well, you know what happened. You never gave me a chance, but you never even stopped to wonder how a teenage boy, a guest in someone-one else’s home, could possibly drill a hole in a solid masonry wall with just a collection of Star Wars figures…! I missed you, Lor…” he whispered
I cringed as I realised what he was saying, but when I looked up, I saw only warmth and understanding in his beautiful blue eyes.
“Pax?” he offered his hand.
“Pax!” I agreed, taking his hand and shaking it once, the boarding-school ritual satisfied.
I just had to know something.
“So Gerry, where did all this,” I waved my hand up and down at him, “where did it all come from? You were such a weedy shrimp in school, how..?” Nice, Lor, subtle…
He sat down, the writhing cables of muscle and tight, cobblestone stomach nearly making me faint with the sight of all that muscular flesh rippling and flexing so tantalizingly close.
“Rowing, Lor, I’m a Blue for my college. I was in the team that won the Boat Race this year.”
I was flabbergasted; my little brother had rowed, and won, the Oxford-Cambridge Boat race? Oh my God, students come from all over the world trying for a place in one of the colleges just so they could go home and say they’d competed in the Boat Race, and he’d actually won it! My heart was suddenly bursting with pride for my little brother. As a Boat Race winner, he was automatically a prospect for the Olympics Sixes.
At least now I could understand where that superb, and I mean superb, physique had come from; rowing is one of the most energy-sapping sports around, requiring truly astounding upper-body strength and endurance, and a champion rower needs to be honed to the peak of physical fitness; I knew this because during my Uni days I’d dated a couple of the Pairs and Diamond Sculls team rowers, and they were built like Gerry. Almost unbidden a thought flashed across my mind; was he as sexually voracious and endlessly energetic as those guys? I dismissed it right away as unnatural, but it lurked there, right on the periphery of my mind…
I mentally compared him to Charlie my Darling, and I have to say, while Charlie was gorgeous, and muscular, and tall and just beautiful, he had a soldier’s physique, a body honed lean and supple for combat; Gerry was something else entirely; barrel-chested, massive shouldered, abdominal muscles like cobblestones, superbly well developed, handsome, and masculine, a body built for huge expenditure of energy and effort, with a level of physical fitness so extreme I couldn’t believe he’d managed it; he’d seemed so detached and disinterested in everything except his collection of Star Wars figures when he was a teenager.