My Sister Evita Pt 1 (Inc. , Adult.), a short story by KiwiDreamer. Date added: 2012-05-21. Times viewed: 4597.
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- Intro: Mummy goes bananas after catching her teenager son and daughter doing it and the siblings are separated for twenty years. They then develop an even closer relationship.
Part 1
On a stormy December night north of London, Margaret Duckworth-Dey caught her son Darcy (17) and daughter Evita (16) going at it hammer and tongs, bathed in sweat and streaked in earlier released bodily secretions and there was no need to cry, “Omigod what are you two doing?”
What they were doing was obvious. Darcy had his length buried and a mouth full of young tit as they lay side-by-side thrusting and Evita had two fingers up… well that was some years ago and it serves no useful purpose to be more explicit.
Margaret screamed, “I’m off to get your father.”
And that sent the young couple scuttling off to their rooms to shower and to dress for dinner. They knew their father would simply dig in his toes and not move from his chair and would say something like, “Good god woman, there’s no need to get hysterical about this. It’s a British traditional and normal in lively bored and wealthy families.”
Tim Dey was a practical man whose company built houses for the wealthy to allow him to share in their wealth. Wife Margaret was the third daughter of Lord Duckworth, 5th Baron Duckworth of Clayton-Eves, a family that had fallen on hard times when Tim took Margaret off their hands after meeting her at a dance and becoming rather enchanted looking down the front of her dress.
The guilty duo fronted their father who said, “Get your sister a soft-drink Darcy and grab yourself a beer.
Margaret muttered “Oh god.”
When everyone was holding a drink Tim said, “You two are guilty of unbecoming behaviour. Darcy you should be ashamed of yourself leading your younger sister astray.”
“Yes sir.”
“No that’s unfair,” Evita said. “I threatened to report him for having sex with Mrs Mains and Mrs Mason if he didn’t have sex with me.”
“Oh god, my best friends,” Margaret sobbed
“Enough,” Tim cried. “Your mother has suggested you two must be separated and I have agreed. “Darcy tomorrow you report to Army recruiting and Evita you are going to live with your uncle and aunt in Durban, South Africa. I have already called them and being childless they will be delighted to raise you until you finally leave the nest.”
“Oh no daddy, I’ll die if I leave England.”
“Margaret?”
“She goes to South Africa Tim and if she dies justice will have exonerated the sin.”
Evita began weeping and Darcy said, “Dad might I join the Air Force instead of the Army?”
“Margaret?”
“I approved. He’s more likely to die flying an airplane than driving an Army lorry.”
Father and son looked at each other and shrugged, both knowing Margaret was bloodthirsty, having been raised in a family that shot everything that moved on their estate including the sheep and stray dogs but not the cattle, owls or essential farm hands.
* * *
That great family upset for the Duckworth-Dey family occurred twenty years ago and Tim and Margaret now live in luxury retirement near Tim’s brother and wife in Durban.
Evita gained a Master’s Degree in Education and a Postgraduate Certificate in Education and a Dip. Mgmt (Open) and is now principle of an ailing girl’s boarding school in Southern England.
Darcy, who left the Air Force serving as a Flight Lieutenant, owned and operated a flying school in the Midlands that went in official liquidation, thanks to the current world economic downturn. After the forced sale of the business, he settled with the bank two days ago and walked away with £210,000, less than half of his original outlay but he had enjoyed being in business and knew he was beaten by the slump in spending and not by mismanagement on his part.
Darcy called his parents in Durban and his dad said after the catch-up, “You should have called us, we would have funded you.”
“Thanks dad but it was something I was determined to do alone, and that’s why I went in without partners and at the outset I really was well-capitalized but the rising fuel prices and decreasing number of people willing to spend on learning to fly finally squeezed the operation near dry.”
They chatted and finally Darcy asked, “Where’s Evita these days?”
“Um this is difficult. I’ll put you across to your mother.”
Darcy’s mom sounded very friendly.
“Hello son, it’s almost three years when we were in England since we last saw you or for that matter heard from you.”
“Yeah and so how are you and dad?”
“We are doing fine and still love living in Durban and we travel a quite a lot. Your father said you are asking where Evita is located these days.”
“Yes. I want to see her mom. She’s my sister and soon turns thirty-six. Don’t keep us apart until your funeral.”
“God I hope that’s some time off. She’s in southern England and has been there three years and you don’t know this but we went to her wedding in Cape Town last year. She married one of her former lecturers whose parents live there. Gareth Holmes was born in Bristol and his parents are English.”
“Gee Evita is married.”
“Yes and you?”
“Women pass through me like curry.”
“God Darcy,” laughed his mom, making Darcy think she appeared more relaxed than when he really knew her.
“Give me a moment and I’ll look up her phone number for you. She heads a girl’s boarding school with 340 students but the school numbers are under threat at the moment because of the economic pinch.”
“Yeah and the affliction appears worldwide. I’ll come and visit you guys soon. I got half of my original capital out of the sale of my company and after the bank took its whack.”
“Well we’d love to have you home. Just a minute.”
* * *
To eliminate a possible brush-off in not have his call to the school’s boss being put through, Darcy said, “Mrs Holmes please. This is Flight-Lieutenant Duckworth-Dey speaking.”
Darcy heard the phone pick-up and fairly heavy breathing and grinned.
“Hi,” he said, using his best smiley voice.
“Omigod Darcy,” Evita said excitedly, cutting loose. “Oh this is so exciting. I can’t believe it. You sound so close. I’m so happy to be speaking with you. Your voice sounds just as I remember it.”
What, how could she could say that with authority when his only utterance had been ‘Hi’. Yeah well she was female and what they don’t know they make up. He decided to try harder.
“This seems pathetically inadequate but I’ve missed you.”
Oh shit, she burst into tears.
Once that was sorted Evita explained their mother had made her promise she would never attempt to reconnect with Darcy in any way in return for her parents financing her through university for as long as it took.
“That’s my story (sob) and so what’s yours (sob)?”
“Oh nothing as dramatic as mum’s hold over you. I just lost myself in the Air Force in the Air Transport wing as a pilot and also qualified as a helicopter pilot out of interest and was in pilot training for a while. I decided to keep right away from you to avoid contaminating your marital chances. You were one great fuck Evita and a great liar telling mum that had been the only time we’d been together. They put no embargo on me from attempting to contact you but well, I thought excommunication was the right thing to do. My small pilot training school in the Midlands has just become a victim of the current economic slump. I called the folk having nothing else better to do and asked where you were.”
“Oh god.”
“Actually it was quite okay. As to be expected dad put me on to mum with that request and she gave me your phone number, said you were married now and made no conditions.”
“Omigod. Well yes she’s become mellower over the years. What will you do now?”
“I leave for London tomorrow to stay for a while and make contact with past and present Air Force guys I know and see if anything that interests me in available. I intend staying in aviation.”
“Look I was thinking of taking a leave day on Friday anyway. If I come up to London for the weekend will you meet me?”
“Christ yes.”
“Oooh.”
“I mean it Evita, you are my sister, my only sibling. Give me your cell phone number and I’ll call you when I’ve settled in at a club or whatever. Um at 35 aren’t you rather young to be a headmistress?”
“My title is school principal. This college underwent a comprehensive review because it was losing traction in the very competitive private boarding school market and one of the principal findings was the school needed to sharpen its image and to do that it should retire the present granny and replace her with a vibrant, much younger supremo. Because I look sexy and energetic and pretty, the males on the school board and the husbands of the wives on the school board who read my CV apparently thought I fitted the new image best. My professional qualifications, teaching and admin record to date counted and I was currently an AP um assistant principal.”
“So you are pretty and sexy?”
“God yes and with a great body but I still had thought I had no chance of being given the opportunity to pull this once great school into the 21st Century and endow it with innovation.”
“Have you thought of offering senior girls the opportunity to learn to fly? That would be innovative.”
Evita laughed and said her brother still had that crazy way about him.
They exchanged personal phone numbers and said goodbye at least five times.
That night Darcy was hauled awake by his phone and saw the caller was his sister and was scandalized because it was almost 3:00 am.
“Hi I want a proposal from you. It’s Evita.”
What the heck was she on about?
“I can’t, I’m your brother and you are already married.”
“God you are still a shit-stirrer. I want a proposal about your teaching some of my senior girls to fly?”
“Are you crazy?”
“No but you are brilliantly so. I’m in the kitchen drinking my 9th cup of coffee.”
“The English drink tea.”
“I was partly raised in South Africa dummy. The board has again pressured me for more innovation and I aim to give them fucking innovation… our new curriculum published soon will offer girls from age sixteen flying lessons to acquire their PPL before they leave school.”
“God you must be serious to be using the term PPL.”
“In means private pilot licence. I’ve been on aviation websites to hours. I went to bed thinking about your stupid pitch and gradually I saw the light and kept kicking my better half awake and was banished from the bedroom and that really fired me up.”
“Okay with that amount of coffee ingested, I want you to drink a quart of slightly warmed water and then sleep near a toilet. I have nothing better to do and so will have a proposal ready for you when you come up on Friday morning.”
“I’ll leave here at 4:00 in the morning if there’s a train.”
“You leave around 9:00 after the morning rush hour and you might be lucky to find your hotel room ready when you arrive. Ask for early access to your room.”
“Yes sir.”
“With your qualifications to gain your present job in education, in the Air Force you would have a rank at least equal to mine of Flight Lieutenant and so there is no need to call me sir.”
“Yes sir and good night sir and I leave you with this tickler: I love you.”
“Yeah and thanks. You’re the best sister I have.”
* * *
Darcy walked briskly to the hotel, eager to reunite with his sister after twenty years, actually just six weeks to the anniversary of their parting. It would be an emotional moment for them.
Evita opened the door in answer to his knock. He hoped she wouldn’t rush him and attempt to continue on where they’d left off. They’d both moved on from that, surely? He thought he had but on the phone when she said she loved him that endearment had been saturated with emotion. Well try to handle it, he thought, and was determined not to wallow in it.
“My darling,” said the much older version of Evita, now a full-blown woman, and she placed her arms around his neck unhurriedly and held up her sweet lips and they kissed like lost children.
Darcy had this strange feeling, um as if she’d touched his soul or some crap like that.
She kept her embraced intact and said, as he wiped a couple of runaway tears on her cheeks, “That was truly, truly wonderful. I feel touched.”
Eh?
He followed her into the room and closed the door, noticing her svelte backside.
“This is so lovely. I shall never forget this reunion because it’s such a momentous occasion,” she said. “Champagne?”
He thought of saving it had only gone 10:30 but hey this was a time to hang loose.
“Wonderful.”
She smiled. She wasn’t beautiful, just very good looking with beautiful olive skin and hazel eyes. With the well sculptured body and prominent humps setting off her athletic-looking wide and firm shoulders, he’d call her high-end of attractiveness and damn sexy.
“You’re a good looking guy,” she said, “although your hair is not as blond as I remember, it’s sandier now. That makes your blue eyes look darker and you have the square jaw suitable for a Flight Lieutenant, built to shoulder responsibility.”
“Do you write although carrying responsibility on one’s square jaw is what’s called mixed metaphor isn’t it or is it just faulty sentence construction?”
She ignored the challenge to grapple academically.
“I write poetry yes and still teach senior girls,” she said, looking slightly quizzical but he turned off that look when he said he didn’t read poetry but restored that look when he said when sleepy he’d had poetry read or recited to him at times by women and had rather enjoyed the special images that evoked.
“That was very nicely put,” she smiled sweetly. “Oh god I do love you. Please pour,” she said, pointing to the built-in wall bar.
They touched glasses and he thought of saying something more creative than ‘Cheers’ but she did it for him, saying “To always.”
God that rocked him.
“To always,” he said and looked at her intently over the rim of his glass, not really meaning to do that, and then he saw the blush.
Hurriedly he said, “It’s so lovely to be with you again. I must write mum.”
“I suggest you don’t. Just leave current relationships undisturbed.”
He stared and nodded and said that was a good idea and she looked pleased.
“Do you like the look of me?”
She was back to seducing him.
“You are a most attractive sister,” he said, taking care not to emphasise the word sister. “I’m very lucky. This guy that you married, he must feel lucky.”
“His name is Gareth Holmes and he’s older than me and attentive but within months of the marriage I concluded he didn’t truly love me.”
“And we know you were born to be loved, and it showed right from early childhood.”
Evita smiled and said he’d expressed that very well and asked how was he to know she was still like that; it was twenty years since their forced separation.
“You said you wrote poetry.”
“On aren’t you sensitive and clever with a woman, not like most males.”
“I wouldn’t know what males are like in that respect and that’s why I didn’t opt to join the Navy.”
They laughed and she looked emotional and held out her hand and said let her hold his hand.
Darcy decided to cooperate and to appear unruffled despite being apprehensive, thinking even basic physical contact was not the way to go.
Twenty minutes later they were sitting side-by-side at the desk reviewing his proposal.
“It’s an idea that never will be accepted,” he said. “But I drafted the proposal as if it were a request from your school board. I studied your school’s website and thought the boarding and school fees of £7000 to £8000 a term were a gigantic rip-off until I looked at the facilities and the extensive staff lists and expensive support staff list and the pastoral care and the staff providing home-life care and study tutoring personnel and I thought wow. And then I considered the running of all ancillary services such as the indoor swimming pool, the sports hall, track and field facilities, adventure course and I then thought fuck me, the school is actually a massive business operation. I guess I’d never thought about it analytically before this.”
“Good man.”
“Your school’s boarders include students from overseas. I can offer only basic flying instruction for those students, not being able to take them through to gaining their private pilot licence applicable for their specific country.”
“I can understand that.”
“And the flying training option applies only to senior school students, from the age of 16 but they can’t sit for their private licence until they turn 17.”
“Understood.”
Darcy took Evita through the options of preliminary flying instruction, advancing to going solo involving 15 to 20 hours logged in the air and then to the study undertaking cross country flying of 20 to 30 hours.
Evita learned that the somewhat less demanding private pilot licence gained would restrict the user to fly only of a UK registered aircraft and fly only in the UK unless receiving special permission to fly elsewhere. She thought that was fine and then she noted the advanced option of qualifying for the certification issued by the Joint European Aviation Authorities to allow flying into respective JAR counties.”
Eva said that would suit some of the students with thoughts about flying each season to Austria to ski or to hop over to wine and food festivals in France and music and beer festivals in Germany.
She added, “God all up this is no walk in the park. It involves a real learning curve containing a high degree of commitment and will require big funding to set up and operate but I suppose the base could be at the local air field.”
“That’s clear thinking,” Darcy said. “To go the full distance to JAR licensing would be a big undertaking, and believe me some senior girls will want to make the commitment. Well I suggestion you take your time and read this this. I looked at the map of Kent and found the two-strip grass runway Rackburn Airfield is less than two miles from your school. I could base my aircraft there and become licensed to operate commercially. I discussed these possibilities with the airport manager and he’d like me to gain the approval of the part-time flying instructor operating who apparently can’t keep up with demand and yet the demand is not sufficient to establish a fulltime flying school. So if you decide to engage me as a tutor on things aviation, then it would be advisable to also allow me to train my own private students until the school offers me full volume work that I’m sure it will, and then requiring me to give first priority for bookings from your school.”
“Okay I’ll read it now. There’s a swag of detail to get through. We’ll finish this wine and off you go but return for dinner with me.”
“Oh great, then you are serious about this proposal?”
“Hugely in principle; it’s up to you to convince me to drive the proposal forward and I trust everything I need to know is in this proposal.”
“I reckon it is and when the school board discusses the proposal you could have me available for elaboration under questioning.”
Evita said carefully, “I’d like you to stay the night.”
Darcy said even more carefully, saying it softly, “No.”
Evita accepted that calmly and said she lightly she had more work to do on convincing him to buckle.
They laughed.
“We should not do it darling,” Darcy said.
“I know we shouldn’t but that doesn’t mean we won’t,” Evita said quite firmly. “But more on that later. At least I’ve planted the idea, cheers.”
Darcy raised his glass with no evidence of any unsteadiness at having received an offer from her sister to fuck her. He said cheers, smiling lightly.
(more coming)
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