Anita’s World S1 E02: Family Issues

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Anita’s World, Season 1, Episode 2: Family Issues

Frank and Max meet everyone

By Phiro Epsilon


This is the second episode of a saga about the every-day and erotic adventures of two families and the people associated with them.

In the first episode, we met Vanessa and Bernd and learned how they got over their problems talking to each other with a little nudge from new friends. There was already a hint about the twin sons of this couple. So, meet Maximilian and Frank here, and also Tom’s daughter Jessica.

Warning: There is no quick fuck in my stories. There WILL be sex, but rather late in the story. This story also contains traces of gay sex, anal sex, and incest, so if you are offended by that, don’t read it. As always, the main topic is having fun with each other, not regarding gender, relationship or marital status.

A note about Germany, if you aren’t interested, you can skip to the story.


One difference between America and Germany, which plays a role in this story, is the fact that there are no vocational courses on German high schools or colleges. They teach science, arts, and languages only.

Crafts are taught by licensed masters with a shop of their own or within large companies. Aspiring craftsmen leave school at the age of 16 or later and start an apprenticeship. It mostly takes three years to “graduate” and become a journeyman. There are few crafts today (mostly carpenters), where journeymen can go “on the road” and get hired for a shorter or longer time by other masters of the craft. Usually, journeymen stay with the same master or company through three more years, before they can become masters for themselves.

There is some schooling parallel to the practical training, mostly on schools dedicated to the crafts, sometimes on technical or integrated high schools parallel to the regular courses.


All people busy with or present at sexual acts in my story are of legal age.

In the light of recent events: Copyright© 2019 Phiro Epsilon

Posting this story, in whole or in part, on another web platform or under another name is not permitted.


I was standing at the bottom end of the escalator in the airport of Fuerteventura waiting for my twin brother.

With very mixed emotions. Frank and I hadn’t seen each other for nearly two years. Christmas in our parents’ home had turned into a catastrophe. Mom and Dad were always fighting about all and nothing. Frank and I had left angrily after two hours, never to return again up to now.

Last year I sent text messages to everyone, told them that I had a busy year ahead and couldn’t come home for Christmas. I barely could avoid adding some very sarcastic remarks.

The “busy year” had been no lie. I had to write my thesis and worked myself through five exams. Now I needed to wait for my marks, and then decide what to do afterward. Until then …

Suddenly two letters appeared. You know, those physical things with envelopes. Sent by air mail. Written on expensive paper, stamped on the island of Fuerteventura. Mom and Dad and apologized for their behavior in my presence. Wow! They wrote that they were working through their issues—together—and would love to spend Christmas with my brother and me in our house on the island. They would, of course, reimburse us for the flights.

What a cruel trick! E-mails I would have deleted unread, but when someone goes the whole nine yards, my sense of justice—my education to be honest—doesn’t allow me to ignore that.

And even though I thought, “What a bullshit,” I couldn’t get the offer out of my head. Christmas had always been the time, when Mom and Dad were at home, regardless of anything else, when we could sit together, sing along silly songs from the radio, and eat homemade cakes.

And talk to each other. Spill our guts about everything—apart from sex, of course, which never ever was on the plate at any time at home. Not a single time. Frank and I learned about the birds and the bees from our classmates in elementary school.

So what did Mom write? “Bernd and I never talked about our needs. We just started now…” Needs? Needs as in “sexual needs?” Had that been the reason behind all those arguments?

“During those few days,” Dad had written, “I have learned more about Vanessa’s wishes than in all the years we have been together.” That was rather direct. Close to “too much information” about our parents.

Somehow that sounded as if the two had found an excellent therapist. If that guy was still there, he might be able to …

Anyway, Frank was still less enthusiastic about this whole shebang than me. I texted him after reading the letters, and he just answered, “Don’t know.”

Then an e-mail appeared about a big contract he was about to land. Fourteen heritage-protected half-timber houses, the big breakthrough for his company, blah, blah, blah. It really sounded like one big pretext.

Frank never was very keen on books, graduated from middle Betturkey school and directly entered into an apprenticeship with a carpenter. As a journeyman, he “took the road” as journeymen had done in centuries past. Walking from town to town, applying for short or longer jobs, staying for one year twice, and finally getting stuck in Erfurt. He must have impressed his master enormously because he inherited the carpentry—and a lot of property sporting old trees—two years later, when his master died from cancer. And now—fourteen major contracts at one blow. Wow! I didn’t know, and I hadn’t expected his company to be that successful.

I thought that was the last and was just preparing my letter of regret to our parents when another text came. He changed his mind, and if I was still in for it—sure, now he was passing the buck to me—but I quickly booked two flights and sent the tickets per e-mail before he could change his mind again.


Now I was standing in the airport awaiting my brother. He appeared at the top of the escalator, and I flinched. That guy looked good! He had always been a little more muscular than me, but now… My hands twitched to touch those muscles.

He obviously needed longer to recognize me. Last time we met I was wearing long hair and full beard as usual for students. But at one point that felt wrong, and I now had short hair and was clean-shaven.

Just like he was and had been for all his life.

A big smile appeared on his face. “Brother mine!” he shouted, jumping down the last steps and opening his arms wide.

I hesitated, but then I accepted the hug. “Good to see you,” I said, “after those years.”

He hugged me even more forcefully and what I had feared did happen. Heat rose in me, and I started shaking.

He immediately broke his hug and stared at me puzzled.

“Your suitcase should arrive on belt eleven,” I said.

“I’ve got everything in my backpack,” he answered, tapping at the monster he carried effortlessly on his back.

“Good,” I said and turned away. “I’ve got everything stowed in the car already.” I took the car key out. “You drive.”


There were two good reasons to let Frank drive. On the one hand, he was the worst front-seat passenger in the world. And on the other … I needed time to collect my guts.

Fifteen minutes later, in the thick traffic heading south, I was set. Without any introduction, I said, “I’m starting to question my sexuality.”


O-kay, that was a bit disappointing.

The next moment he stepped on the brakes. The Jeep jerked to a stop in the middle of the street. Frank turned and looked at me. “Do you mean you are gay?”

Behind us, hundreds of cars started to honk. Frank started the engine and drove to the curb. “So?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m doubting.”

“Earlier—” He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder “—when we hugged…”

I shrugged.

“Are you—um—horny for me?”

Heat shot through my body into my head. My face had to have turned red, because Frank shook his head, turned forward again and merged into the traffic.

“Just to understand,” he said a couple of minutes later. “You’ve got—um—feelings for men?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes or no?”

Pause. “More yes than no.”

“Did you already … You know what I mean.”

“I never had sex with a man. Our recent hug was the most intimate thing I did until now.”

“Yeah?” Pause. “How long?”

Pause. “Rather long.”

“Since before Eva or afterward?”

Eva had been my girlfriend, back in my senior high school year. We had both turned eighteen, so I had had hopes…

Frank came home just for one week of vacation, and it took only two days before I knew that it was over for me. I confronted him, we shouted at each other, and he slapped me. Straight on my nose. I only looked at him and ran away.

“Why Eva?” I asked. “You mean— The reason why I didn’t hit back?”

“Exactly. Do you have an idea how shitty I felt afterward?”

“No, that wasn’t the reason. I could see how you were looking at her. I knew you had the hots for her. If only you’d said something in advance, I’d OKed it. Or we could have laid her together.”

He flinched. The car swayed. “What?” he stuttered. “You mean…”

“Frank, you’re my brother. You are—were—my best friend. Frank … I don’t know if I’m gay. But I know that I love you.”

With shaking hands, he barely managed to keep the car on the street. “What. The. Fuck!”

“Now you hate me.”

“No! No! Not in the least. Heavens! We could have fun together if I’d opened my mouth.”

“Or me. I deserved my nosebleed.”

He took a deep breath. “Seen in this light, you’re right.”

I laughed. “Here I hoped you contradict me.”

He laughed as well. Liberating, that kind of laughter. “Y’know,” he said. “We learned ‘not opening my mouth’ from the best ones.”

Pause. He turned his head to me frowning.

I Betturkey Giriş stared at him. “Fuck, yes!” I said.


During the rest of the trip, I pored over the question of what was worse. To be sexually aberrant or not to be able to talk about that. From time to time I looked at Frank, but the condition of the road forbade any talk. Well, we had a whole week.

“Is that new?” I asked when we passed the former unfinished building close to ours.

His gaze followed my finger. “Looks that way, doesn’t it? Wow! What a bunker!”

My carpenter brother could only accept wood. But that house was built from glass. A big lot of glass. Those guys who had finally snatched building permit from the locals had to be loaded. More than loaded.

Our Finca wasn’t even plastered. Raw concrete blocks. Fortunately, rainfall was a seldom phenomenon here.

“There isn’t a car,” Frank noticed when we parked ours.

“Perhaps they’re in Morro Jable. But at least we know where the spare key is hidden.”

We took our baggage from the trunk and walked to the back of the bungalow. I froze.

“Huh?” Frank said.

Someone was lying on the lounger at the pool. Someone with a female shape. Someone with a completely uncovered female shape. Not our mother, of course, she never sunbathed in the nude. Not even here.

The girl/woman seemed to be our age and rather tall. Her face was hidden behind large sunglasses, which didn’t move at all.

I looked at Frank, he looked back and shrugged.

I dropped my bag and walked over. The girl’s skin was only slightly tanned, no bikini marks. So: not a native. She had spread her legs slightly, and one of her hands was lying on her belly, only inches away from her bald pussy.

While I was still staring, Frank touched her shoulder.

“What?” She started. “Who?” Then she removed her sunglasses, revealing bright green eyes. “Shit, I must have fallen asleep. You’re Frank and Maximilian, right?”

“Max is enough,” I said. “And who are you?”

She rose and scrutinized us. Then she took some quick steps in my direction, said, “I’m Jessica,” grasped the back of my neck and pulled my head down for a kiss on my lips.

HOT!! “How? What?” I stammered.

“We kissed,” she said, “so we’re on first names now.”

I slowly shook my head. At my side, I heard my brother clearing his throat.

Jessica smirked at me, then at him, then she jumped my brother, put her arms around his neck, her legs around his hips and started to conquer his mouth.

Frank dropped his backpack and put his hands on her ass. Insolent. Or just to keep them both from toppling over.

Heavens! The woman was naked! What possessed her—and Frank who still kissed her thoroughly, while his hands on her ass…

She finished the action—the upper half at least—and said, “Welcome to Fuerteventura.”

Frank let her slip down. “You’re the welcoming committee then?”

“Nope. Just neighbor’s little daughter on Christmas vacation.” She pointed to the glass bunker, which gleamed in the distance. “Your parents are visiting mine, and sent me over to greet you.”

I ripped myself out of my stupor. “The welcome was something…,” I stuttered.

She puffed herself up—literally, nothing barring the view. “That’s what your Mama said as well.” Then she broke into a giggle.

“And now?” my pragmatic craftsman brother asked. “Do you want us to accompany you?”

“Aren’t you soaked with sweat? Why not take a shower, swim a couple of laps in the pool and get ourselves known better?”

I eyed the pool suspiciously. It was clean but by far not big enough to “swim laps.” She was undoubtedly accustomed to something different in size. But her idea wasn’t too bad. “Sure,” I said, took my bag and went into the house.


I heard Frank leave the shower, while I still was busy putting my things into a closet.

“I hope,” I said, “I didn’t ruin something.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Well, Jessica is obviously hot for you. I should have disappeared sooner.”


“Max, please look at me.” I did, and he shook his head. “Why are you saying that?”

I shrugged. “I don’t want to spoil your fun.”

“Are you nuts? If—no: when—we do anything, it’s our fun. Didn’t we agree in that earlier?”

I sighed. “You think so?”

Suddenly he came and pulled me in a bear hug. It was better than earlier.

“Yes,” he whispered in my ear. “I think so. You. Me. Fun. Together.”

I saw his towel sliding from his hips, and my heart stopped. I— Well I had seen my brother naked. Long ago and definitely not that close. Fuck! Even his cock looked good. “Um, Frank,” I stuttered. “You’re naked.”

“Yes, I am.”

I looked in his face. He held me at arm’s length and grinned. “Don’t tell me you’re about to wear those long johns while playing with a naked girl in the pool. Here, on the island of naturism?”

Heat rose in me. My eyes were Betturkey Güncel Giriş drawn down against my will.

“Don’t hesitate to look,” Frank said. “It’s nothing special.”

I flinched. My brother had just caught me staring at his cock.

“Because I just got it a cold shower,” he continued smirking. “Normally …”

My thoughts went rollercoasting. I wanted to know how it had looked before.

“And now: Pants down!” he commanded.

I flinched, but put my thumbs into my waistband. I took a deep breath and obeyed my brother’s command.

“Wow!” he said, whistling through his teeth. “You really don’t need to hide this.”

Heat again. I looked down. I really hadn’t noticed, what all that talking had done to my cock. It stood horizontally into the room. My eyes jumped between Frank’s cock and mine, and I had to admit, that he was right. Then something came to my mind. “I can’t go outside like this,” I muttered.

“Then do the same that I did,” Frank said smirking. “Jerk off under the shower and give it a cold pour.”

I stared at him. The image of my brother jacking off in the shower…

“Or just a gust of water, so we can go outside, finally.”


“Cold thoughts,” Frank murmured when we finally went through the glass door side by side. “Refrigerator, North Pole.”

I laughed. “Dry ice,” I retorted, “liquid nitrogen.”

“Oh, you pretentious students…”

“What are you talking about?” Jessica asked. She was standing at a shallow point in the pool, her breasts just above the surface, covered in beads of water.

“Novosibirsk,” Frank said, “Anchorage, Alaska.”

“Yakutsk is even colder,” I commented.

Jessica smirked. “Are trying to think cold thoughts?” She caressed her boobs, put her fingers on her nipples and twisted, then she straightened, interlacing her fingers at the back of her neck. Damn! Instant erection again.

I risked a look at my brother and was greeted with a similar sight. There was no choice. I took a run-up and cannonballed into the pool.

A fraction of a second later another cannonball hit the surface beside me. Now, the bones of contention were securely hidden below the surface.

Not much. The water was clean, the surface calmed down, and my erection was clearly visible again.

Jessica didn’t look at all, she kicked against the wall, shot to our side put one hand each on our shoulders and pushed us under the surface.

I was caught totally off-guard, inhaled below the surface and resurfaced coughing and sniffing.

“My goodness,” Jessica shouted. “I haven’t done that in ages.” Then she turned and tried to flee. But never underestimate a carpenter. Frank’s hand closed around her ankle like a bench vise.

She squealed, trying to kick his hand with her other foot.

He looked at me, rose his eyebrows and nodded to the other end of the pool. I nodded and quickly made my way there. He took a deep breath, dived without releasing Jessica’s foot, pushed against the floor, took her around her waist, and sent her flying through the air. Yes, he still had it.

She crashed down on me, arms flailing, and I sent her back by return mail. Girls Volleyball had once been one of our favorite types of sports back then. However, the weight difference was much more significant, and boys and girls far more clothed. Two throws later I dropped her.

“Ha-ha!” Frank shouted. “Never fuck with the Schuppach twins.”

“Yeah?” she cried. “Call me Cruella!” Then she started splashing water at us.

Simple fun. Together. At least for some time.

Frank seemed unfazed when she touched him, or he touched her during the fight. His thoughts seemed to circle around how to creatively dunk her and avoid being dunked.

My thoughts were different. I tried to touch only Jessica’s arms, and not her boobs or body. And I tried to keep her from touching my body or steel-hard rod.

“Stop,” she suddenly shouted. Turning toward me she said, “Max, what’s the matter? Are you afraid of me?”

What should I say?

“No,” Frank blurted out. “He’s afraid of himself.”

I looked at him. My gaze was obviously far from friendly, and he flinched.

Jessica kicked against the wall and swam to me. She stopped at arm’s length, treading water. “Why is that?”


Frank gazed angrily at me from the other end of the pool. “Tell her,” he snarled. “Or I do it.”

That was too much. I turned in the direction of the ladder trying to escape wanting a rest. But Jessica grabbed my arm. “Max, please, tell me what ‘I’ve done wrong.”

Every muscle in my body tensed up. I barely refrained from shaking Jessica off violently. But then … Oh, what the fuck… “I’m gay!”, I blurted out.

I expected a lot of possible reaction but not that: Jessica exploded with laughter.

“What?” I snarled.

“You!”, she chuckled. “You aren’t gay!” Her hand touched my steel-hard erection. “Gosh!”, she gasped. “You are so not-gay!”

“Th-that’s not you causing that, but my brother.”

She gazed over her shoulder at my brother, who was slowly paddling closer. He was tanned, much more than me, his muscles glittering in the sunlight. I really wanted to put my hand on them, caressing them.

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