Balu," said my twin sister Meena casually as if she was asking me to pass salt at the dining table, "can you give me some of your semen?"
"What do you mean my semen?"
"A sample of your semen for testing," she said. .
"Sure," I said. I took the thick glass cup she offered and went into my room.
My sister is a clinical lab technician. She left her job in a large hospital and is setting up her own private lab. She has rented a suitable place in Bazaar Street of our small town near Trichy in southern India. Painting and carpentry works were going on in the building, meanwhile the equipment she has ordered has piled up in our house. Meena has set up her microscope in her room and was trying it out; hence the request for my semen.
A sister asking her brother for a sample of his semen is likely to get the brother into a curious frame of mind. No, it was not sexual excitement; it was something else that I am quite unable to describe. Whatever the reason I was not able to masturbate. I could get the erection but I could not get to the point of ejaculating. I tried and tried till by forearm muscles became sore. I had to give up.
"Sorry Meena I could not."
"What do you mean 'could not.' In our lab men get samples in a jiffy.
"If their sisters ask for semen samples they may not also be able to get it in a jiffy either," I said annoyed. I was unhappy that I had failed in this rudimentary test for manhood.
"Look here Balu with difficulty I have got things ready for full scale semen testing. It cost me quite a bit. The last thing I expected was for you to let me down."
"I tried my best."
"Why don't you open up your lap top? I believe most men have a collection of porn there."
"I tried that too."
"You have seen me in the nude. Think of that."
"I did that too."
"Really? That's interesting. What more do you need. Do you want me to strip?"
When Meena was talking about my having seen her in the nude she was not referring to our childhood days much less our days in our mother's womb. I must explain the circumstances under which in an orthodox Hindu family in the conservative society of rural southern India a brother can see his grown up sister in the nude. Our family consists of my widowed mother who at 38 is quite youthful, my sister and I both 20 years old. My father a long time sufferer from rheumatic heart disease died two years ago. .
We live in the ancient part of our small town. Our house must be over a hundred years old. The houses in our part of the town are country tiled with a pyol in front. The wooden door, thick and heavy with decorations leads into a central spacious courtyard with a well in the centre and rooms on front, left side and the back. The kitchen and store room are on the right side of the entrance as prescribed in Vastu shastra. The well has dried up some years ago. We live not far from the Cauvery River but thanks to numerous dams built along its 300 mile course the river is also dry except during the monsoon season. But our municipality supplies piped water. Each house has one pipe. Ours is in the court yard next to the well. We get water for two hours in the morning from four to six. That is all for the day. We have to bathe early in the morning and after that collect as much as possible in casks for the rest of the day.
I am the owner of the cloth shop that my father had inherited from his father who by diligence and honesty has made the shop the best known in our populous agricultural taluk (county). My father kept up the reputation of the shop and as he was aware that he had only a few more years to live he has trained me from early years to run the shop. My mother is supervisor in a tailoring export factory near Trichy. The factory bus picks her up at seven in the morning and drops her back at six in the evening. My mother is up at four to start her chores. When the water starts dripping she is already there in order not miss even a drop of our precious allotment. She bathes and then sister bathes. I get up at five and bathe hurriedly. Before six when the water stops we have to collect water for the rest of the day.
We do not have a bathroom in our house. The granite platform built round the well is our bathroom. (The lavatory is well away from the house in the compound. If my late grandmother had known that in modern houses the lavatories are inside the houses she would be greatly scandalised.) My mother and sister use the parapet wall round the well as screen and bathe. I tie a towel round my waist and bathe. My mother is not as careful as my sister is during bathing. Even my sister when she leaves after the bath at times runs across to her room in the nude. When I am recuperating from fever my mother would take a day's leave and warm water for my bath. She would bathe me not sparing attention to my penis and scrotum. Likewise when my sister is in periods (and consequently unclean in our culture) I will help my mother when she has her weekly head bath. She would crouch in the nude and I will attend to her scalp and then withdraw. Yes I have seen both my sister and mother in the nude vulva and all. In short in our home we are not that ashamed of our bodies as people are in our parts.
Back to my story where I am considering my sister's poser: "Do you want me to strip?" It was clear that she was desperate for the specimen. I took the cup from her and went back to my room to give another try. This time I had problem even maintaining an erection. I came out empty handed. Sister took the cup from me and left the room. Her body language was not of one accepting defeat. I had no idea what her plan was, if any.
When she came back soon after she stunned me absolutely. She had a thin towel tied at arm pit level and nothing else. It was how she covered herself when she slipped back to her room after bathing (at times as I have said before she would run back in the nude). The towel came up to mid thigh.
"Will this do?" she asked.
"Do you expect me to masturbate while you watch?" I asked.
"Unless you get into the TV carton lying in the store room with the head protruding out." she said and laughed.
"Cheap joke," I said.
"I have seen your thing many times. I can't she why you are making a fuss about it. Think of me as a nurse."
"I do not think that patients in hospital have to masturbate before nurses," I said.
"Don't take it literally. You cannot let me down."
My sister's boldness surprised me. I hesitated. Masturbating with my sister looking on was something I would have considered unthinkable a few minutes before she came with her request.
"I'll try again with you image in mind," I said and taking the cup I left for my room. I was so confused that I could not get an erection. I came out.
"OK," I said and boldly throwing away my dhoti I sat on the low chair and took hold of my penis. Meena was standing arms akimbo a metre from where I sat. I looked at her and started. I think it was because we were twins that made us participate is something so daring. Brother and sister twins are closer to each other than brothers and sisters who have not shared wombs.
We did not make eye contact for I was looking at her scantily covered body and her eyes were riveted on my fingers working on the penis.
"I am not getting proper erection," I said for such was the case. My penis was turgid but not hard enough.
"Will this help," she said and without opening out she loosened the towel and slid it down to her waist.
My sister has a pair of magnificent breasts. Large with just that sag their size demanded. The areolas were broad and the nipples indescribably lovely. My penis responded in kind. It was erect with an upward pointing tip.
"OK?"
"Perfect," I said. We made eye contact but it was only for a fraction of a second for sister looked away at once. No, she did not blush, neither did she smile.
"Almost there," I said but for some reason I was not able to ejaculate. Meena must have noticed that I was having difficulty in surmounting the final hurdle.
"How about now," she said and removed the towel altogether. I gasped. I have seen her nude but not front on and not with her standing still with the specific object of letting me have an eye full. She was like a temple sculpture. Narrow waist and broad hips with shapely thighs with a puffy clean shaven vulva the slit of which was unblemished but for a prominence at the top to show where the hood hid the clitoris. And then she parted her legs just a bit. That did the trick.
"The cup, hand me the cup" I said. Meena took the cup from the cot and hurriedly brought it to the tip of the penis. No sooner was it in place semen started pulsating out. Part of the first spurt missed the cup and landed on the back of Meena's left hand. The rest was in the cup. The flow soon ceased. Meena placed the cup on the bed and taking hold of my penis she squeezed it and collected the few drops that came out on two slides. She placed the slides next to the cup and using soft paper wipes she cleaned my penis thoroughly. She retracted the prepuce and cleaned behind the glans and then replaced the prepuce. That done she collected her specimens and left.
"You have not wiped your hand," I said as she was leaving. She looked at the spot of semen on the back of her hand as if wondering what to do about it and then she deliberately licked it. "I can give the report straightaway. You have no diabetes," she said and chuckled. I sat in a daze.
"Come Balu and see," she called from her room, "look at your dancing sperms." I looked into the microscope and saw my sperms wriggling about, countless numbers of them.
"Nice?"
I nodded.
"Now go and lie down and rest. I will bring you milk and almonds." In our parts men consume almonds because it is supposed to promote sexual vigour. I would have liked to relax on the sofa reenacting the event but I had to go to my shop. .
The next three days nothing happened for sister was in her periods. On the fourth day Meena was at home as the workers who were getting her lab ready were on leave. We had lunch and I had my afternoon nap. At three I woke up. I went to the kitchen. Meena was preparing coffee. We had coffee and snacks
"I want semen again Balu," she said. I went to my room. Meena followed bringing the cup to collect the specimen and some glass slides and wipes.
"You get on the cot," she said in the tone nurses order patients, "I will do it for you. I know I can do it better."
"What do you mean by 'do it'?"
"I'll masturbate you."
"But, but," I said in half hearted protest. I liked the idea. Her soft hand on my penis as she squeezed it of semen was still green in my memory.
"Don't be difficult Balu. Remove that dhoti and lie down. You can watch me as I strip. I believe that brings on erection." So saying she started undressing. She removed her sari and then her blouse. She was now in her skirt and bra. The bra was the first to go exposing those lovely breasts of hers. Then with eyes fixed on me she undid the skirt tape. She wriggled a bit and the skirt dropped down in slow motion exposing her lower abdomen, and groin and finally that puffy vulva. I was erect and rearing to go.
She allowing me time to drink in her beauty. She climbed on the cot and made me recline on pillows. She rested with her knees modestly close together between my legs. She was ready to start. My penis had already subsided to medium hardness. I like to think I am as virile as any man can be. I attribute this tendency of my penis to lose hardness so readily to the fact it was my sister who was confronting me. But Meena was up to the task of reviving it. Her pose of keeping her thighs together she must have thought was an error. She now brought my thighs together and rested her knees on either side of my thighs. Her vulval lips were now apart and I could see a bit of the redness of the vagina. She caught hold of my penile shaft and moved her hand to and fro. It was then that I noticed moisture in her vulval opening. She was more sexually aroused as I was. Soon she was not just moist but pouring.
She looked up and saw my eyes focused on her vulva. She looked down and saw what she must have felt—secretions dripping from her vulva. So far she was resting on her knees. Now she squatted with feet on the mattress. Her vulva was widely open. She lifting up her buttocks and moved her feet forwards little by little. Her vagina was coming closer and closer to my now hard penis in her firm grip. And then a little maneuvering and she neatly threaded my penis into her vagina. She pressed and with a perceptible jerk her hymen ruptured. I was fully and deeply into my sister.
"Excuse my darling brother," she said, "I just did not have the power to resist."
"I am glad it happened," I said, "or I would have burst."
"Fondle me," she said. She took my hand and placed it on her breast. I ran my hand across its smoothness and when I came to the nipple I gently plucked it.
"Suck me," she said. She came forward holding up her breast and bringing the nipple to my lips. I held it between my lips and with teeth covered with my indrawn lips and gave a firm bite. She moaned.
'Kiss me," she said. Her lips sought my lips and we locked in a passionate tongue lashing kiss. She moved her hips up and down. My penis moved in and out smoothly like a well lubricated piston. She moaned again. Soon her hips were vibrating rather than moving. And then it happened. As I ejaculated she had the first of her three climaxes. She screamed softly as she climaxed. She then had two more. It was of her own doing. From the dominant position on top she was able to grind her clitoris on by pubis to get those extras that women value so much. We lay exhausted with sister on top of me. It was then that both of us were suddenly aware that mother has returned early that day and was watching us from less than six feet away. She was standing still like a statue with a face devoid of all expression.
A combination of emotions of which fear and embarrassment were foremost paralysed me. I could not move a muscle. Meena was made of sterner stuff. She kissed me on the lips and got up. She put on her skirt and holding her crumpled sari against her breasts with one hand she went up to mother. She took her hand in hers and led her out of the room. I crept to the door and peeped. Meena and mother were in the room they shared. As I was watching the door opened and sister came out in her skirt but bare breasted. She squatted on the bath floor and washed herself. This understandably took a while for had not only to clean the vagina and vulva of semen but also her thighs and lower abdomen all of which were wet with her secretions. She then went back to the room and closed the door. It was time for me to go to the shop. I washed and changed and left locking the main door from outside. All three of us had keys to that lock. That was the reason why mother was able to come in without our knowing it.
I have very little remembrance of what happened in the shop that evening. My first sexual intercourse, something I have been dreaming of for years, had happened; the girl I had sex with and deflowered in the process was no other than a sister with whom I had shared the womb; and as if that was not enough our mother was watching it from within the room. I was not afraid of pregnancy for the day after end of periods is quite safe. My anxiety was about my mother's reaction. The shock that her son and daughter were lovers could kill her. After closing shop I returned home with trepidation. I opened the door. Sister must have been waiting for me. She came out of the room. Her smile reassured me.
"Mother is sleeping," she said. Mother often sleeps for an hour or two after returning from her factory. "I'll tell you what happened. You can't guess in a million tries. Yes, mother's reaction is totally unexpected." I'll quote Meena.
"Amma came placidly as I led her out of the room. Her blank stare was alarming. 'Are you OK Amma,' I said. 'Go and wash well,' she said. I came out and did so. When I went back mother was lying facing the wall. 'Come this side and lie down beside me,' she said. She held me in a close embrace. We were silent for quite a while.
'I was fifteen when I married,' she said speaking softly, 'even at that age I was eager for sex. From then on till your father's passing I have been having sex regularly at least twice a week. Now that you have experienced I can tell you that even on days when your father was breathless from heart disease he would want me by his side. I would lie down nude beside him and he would hug me. For the past two years I am bursting with desire. Rubbing gives no relief. Men are there in plenty wanting me. There has not been a single day in then past two years when some man or other has not made sly signs that he wants to sleep with me. Hindu widows cannot marry and men in our parts know our weakness and try to exploit. I have no choice but to resist for even if I yield once I am gone, gone for ever. The community will shun me. I can understand how much you two have suffered. It is better that Balu has you rather than some prostitute. And please only when the desire becomes great and be very careful about pregnancy.'"
"The last thing I expected Balu," said my sister," was mother to bless us. But I was more concerned about her. Her starvation from sex is so intense that she may yield and as a family we will be doomed in this our ultra conservative rural society."
"What are we to do?" I asked her.
"Do you get any ideas?" She spoke in a tone that suggested that she knew I could get ideas. I could too but it was so horrible that the very thought made me shiver. "I have been thinking about it," she continued as if I had spoken my thoughts, "I do not find it that bad. You help mother during head bath when I am out of bounds, and you massage her back with her buttocks all exposed when she has low back ache. This is just one step removed."
"The very thought makes my head go round and round."
"Mother may not be averse to it."
"How do you know?"
"I asked her."
"You mean you suggested it to mother. How did you have the nerve to do that?"
"I will do anything to save mother from becoming a lust object for other men Balu, anything. What about you."
"What did she say?"
"She was horrified at first. I told her that as Hindus do not allow widow remarriage our customs sanction widows to have taboo relationships under exceptional circumstances. Young widows can thus have sexual relationships with brothers and grown up sons."
"I have not heard of such customs."
"That does not mean that they do not exist."
"What happened next?"
"I pressed and she gradually became less and less vehement in her objections. Just as you are excited to see her nude she likes to see you in the nude too."
"What do you mean I am excited to see her in the nude."
"You are Balu. I have seen you ogling her when she is bathing and I can see her excitement when she is bathing you on those occasions when you are recovering from fever."
"You were watching were you?"
"Of course. With great excitement."
"I won't be surprised if both of you wanted me to fall sick from time to time."
"That's going too far," she said laughing. "Anyway I have given a razor to mother to shave herself. I told her you like it that way."
"Razor? To mother? And where did you get the notion that I like it that way?'
"A woman must be at her best when she presents herself before a man even if it is her son. That is what Kama Sudra says. As for you liking shaved things I know. Please deny it if I am wrong."
I was silent.
"What next?"
"We'll play by the ear," said Meena. Mother-son the very thought seemed so horrible. With my morals already loosened Meena could sell me the idea without difficulty.The next morning I woke up as usual at five sharp with the help of my alarm clock. Armed with tooth brush I ventured out of my room. Normally by that time the plinth area around the well would be clear with mother and sister having taken their bath earlier. But today mother was bathing. My first impulse was to withdraw but I realised that the altered programme was deliberate. I acted as if it was all normal and went on with brushing my teeth. Mother was not crouching with her back towards me as she does when on the occasions I would be soaping her hair during her oil baths. Instead she was facing me but with soap on her face her eyes could not be open. And then she stood up to do her thighs with soap still on her face.
She was a mother of two twenty-year olds but she was still a beauty. Her buttocks were like glass globes and her thighs as smooth as peeled banana tree stems. Her breasts were sagging malgova mangoes. Though she had put on weight she still had a narrow waist. The sight of her in the nude a couple of feet away from me made me hard as rock. I might have had erection problems with sister but none at all with mother. It was then that I studied her vulva.
Sister must have inherited her vulva for mother's was puffy too with a smooth slit and a perceptible clitoral hood. She had shaved smooth. Indian mothers are famous for going to the limits to please their sons but this was way beyond those limits. It was touching.
'Mother," I said, "a chilly wind is blowing here. Wash away the soap we will go to my room and I'll wipe you." There upon she poured the bucket of water over her head. I held her by the arm and dripping water she allowed me to lead her into my room. There I wiped her scalp and face (with eyes now open) and her neck and shoulders and breasts and chest and abdomen. Then I did her thighs and legs. She helpfully lifted one and then the other leg as I wiped them. I then made her turn and did her buttocks and then I came round and went down on my hunches to do the vulva.
With the towel on my palms I cupped the vulva. With my finger lightly gripping the major lips I opened the slit with my thumbs and peered in. It was wet, generously wet. Mother was in a high state of sexual excitement. I took my head forwards and kissed the open slit and then I inserted my long tongue inside and licked the juices. Mother spread her thighs and placing her hands on the back of my head she pressed. We moved to the cot. I lifted mother up and rested her buttocks on the edge of the mattress. I then crouched. Mother had lifted her legs and spread out her thighs. I opened out her vulva to bring the clitoris closer to the surface. The button like tip was turgid. I started licking. I licked the clitoris and the inner lips leading to it. Soon mother was moving her buttocks and moaning. I stopped licking, paused and then swiped the clitoris. Mother had a massive orgasm. For the finale I bit the clitoris with protected teeth. Mother screamed softly.
"Quick," she said between moans, "I can't wait." I pulled her up and soon I was on top of her. She caught my dangling penis and inserted it into her vagina. We were both is such a state of excitement that we climaxed soon after with perfect timing. Soon it was over for me but not for her. I waited for a while and pressed again. Mother moved her pelvis up and down till her G spot made contact. She had another orgasm and then yet another. I lay limp on her totally exhausted. I then rolled over and we held each other in a tight embrace.
"It is time for me to get ready for the factory," she said. We got up. I led her to the well. I poured water as she washed herself. I poured again and she did the needful for my penis and the wet surroundings. I led her by her arm to the room. Meena must have been waiting for when the door opened she held her in and closed the door. I went back and lay down; my legs were too weak to hold me up.
Some time later Meena called me for breakfast.
"It is wonderful. Mother has had he fill," she said.
"How do you know? Did she tell?"
"Better than that. I saw it happening."
"You saw?"
"Why not?" This afternoon you must lick me," she said.
We had it that afternoon and several afternoons after that. I liked it when I am on top. It is delicious face to face with her breasts pressing my chest. But Meena likes it when she is on top. She says she is able to get the right touch and the precise amount of pressure on her G spot when she is on top though that pose is more strenuous. But strangely we soon became less and less enthusiastic about sex. As for Mother we had the second after two weeks and the third after three. That was to be the last.
In the glow of sexual satisfaction the utter heinousness of our actions was not apparent to us in the beginning. But misgivings that what we were indulging in an act that even in animals is taboo were floating all the while under the surface of our consciousness. The hollowness of the arguments that we had advanced rationalizing our actions started popping up in our thoughts with greater and greater frequency. The period of wakefulness just before dawn was when I questioned my actions and it greatly disturbed me. I also found mother brooding at times. One day I asked her what was bothering her. She said our sins will soon catch up with us. Meena was affected; she was no longer bubbly. The tension was building up. It needed but a spark to explode. That came in the form of an innocent letter we received one afternoon.
2
One evening when I came home from my shop mother met me at the door disheveled and staring widely almost as if she had become insane. Meena was laying face down on the sofa. Mother pointed to a letter lying on the table. It was from a marriage broker bringing an offer for Meena. It was a normal and natural thing for brokers to bring marriage offers for eligible girls.
"What reply can we give them?" she said. "What reply can we give them?" she repeated this is time in a screech. "We have made our darling into an object worthy of being spat upon by prostitutes." That I had to admit was the stark reality. "I am not worthy of even that, continued my mother, "I have dishonoured motherhood itself. We have brought a family renowned for respectability for generations to this state. We must do away with ourselves that's the only way we can erase our shame." She was becoming hysterical with every word she uttered. Meena got up. Her eyes were red from crying.
"I am to blame," she said. "I started this horror; I seduced my brother by craft, I almost raped him, and like the devil I put temptation in my mother's way, I do not deserve to live," so saying she ran into her room and closed and latched the door. After banging the door vainly pleading with her to open we broke open the door and entered. Meena was standing on the cot with one end of a sari strung on the electric fan and other looped round her neck. Mother pulled her down in the nick of time. They hugged each other and wailed. Then suddenly a change came over mother.
"All hope is not lost," she said slowly pacing her words. "God can save us still, but first we must obey the shastras. We must not run away like cowards. We must live to atone for our misdeeds. Flesh eating has filled us with animal desires. We must stop that at once." She ran into the kitchen and threw the meat dishes vessel and all into garbage. "Tomorrow we make a pilgrimage to Palani," she said.
Hindus have numerous places for pilgrimage. Banares is the most famous of these but there are others of local importance. The most famous in south India is the hill temple at Palani 130 miles from our town. To gain merit one must walk the distance from home on bare feet. That is what we vowed to do. The three of us attired in ochre cotton clothes started the pilgrimage the day after the letter. We traveled about 15 miles a day walking on bare feet. There are many rest houses for pilgrims on the way. We stayed there for the night and started early in the morning before sunrise to escape the heat of the sun. It took us 12 days to reach Palani. We climbed the steep stone steps to the hill temple. We offered pujas there and had our heads shorn of hair as per custom. In addition we had vowed to circumambulate the temple not by walk but by lying on the stone paved way and rolling along. There were many doing that day and every day. That done we had more pujas and when we came down the hill we felt at peace with ourselves. Meena who had the blank look of a mad woman for the past fortnight was normal again. But her vivaciousness was gone. There was an assured gentleness in her eyes that reminded one of Mother Teresa. It was a remarkable transformation.
Before leaving I had written to the marriage broker that as we were on a vow to visit Palani we can reply only after we have done the pilgrimage. When I wrote to him after the pilgrimage he said that the mother of the boy will be visiting us. This was not only not customary but quite strange; we agreed. The lady came. Though owners of the biggest cloth store in the city she was very simply dressed and wore just a thin chain round her neck. She said she wanted to talk to sister before proceeding further in the proposal. This again was an unusual request. She had a strange story to tell.
She has two children. The first one is the 25 year old boy for whom they were seeking a wife. The second born seven years later is a girl with severe mental disability. She has to have assistance for her every need. Astrologers whom they consulted studied her horoscope and said that the girl was a very distant member of the family who is reborn deformed as punishment for the sins she had committed in her earlier life. Hindus believe in heaven but not in hell. It is their belief that one has to atone for sins during rebirth. There will be many such rebirths depending on the sins committed but eventually everyone will reach heaven. The astrologers said that to be prosperous they should give the best care for the girl. They have been doing it for the past 18 years and as predicted they have become very prosperous. After the mother had passed away the wife of the brother would have to take up the responsibility of looking after the girl. Would my sister agree to that?
I was watching my sister when she asked that question. I knew what her answer will be. My sister smiled; her face glowed when she said, 'I most certainly will.' Thereupon my sister's future mother-in-law held her hand against her bosom, closed her eyes and mumbled a prayer. Her long search has ended. My sister was married a month later. Six months later the mother-in-law paid the ultimate accolade that any daughter-in-law can receive from her mother-in-law. 'Your daughter is God's gift to us,' she wrote. Five months later my sister did more—she presented her family with a boy baby.
My mother and I lead a life so simple that it is not different from that of the very poor in India. As a penance we have discarded mattresses and cushions and sleep on mats on the floor. I married a distant relative girl who became destitute when all the members of her family perished in a train accident. She shares our hardships and our joys. Yes, there is great joy in sharing everything that we can spare after meeting our meager needs to fund the charities that mother and I supervise. We have gained a totally unmerited reputation of being a holy family. Our business is prospering and the more we get the more we give. We hope that we will gain merit in the Almighty's eyes. We cannot escape our unfathomable sins but we hope our good deeds will to some extent mollify the punishment.