Bro and Sis Homestay Guests

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In an earlier story, “Mom and Son Homestay Guests”, sibling pair homestay hosts, John and Jane, hosted a somewhat unseemly intimate mother and son pair.

In this hosting experience, John and Jane host an English travelling sibling pair. Is there more going on than meets the eye?

This story can be read independently of “Mom and Son Homestay Guests” even though they share some common thematic threads.


I have never given any thought on the subject of incest, let alone brother-sister incest. But, an unexpected incidental experience I encountered piqued my interest in this taboo subject.

I’m John. Mid-thirties. Single.

When my parents passed away, my younger sis, Jane, early thirties, single, and I inherited a penthouse condominium apartment.

The condominium tower was perched on a wild desolate hillside. There were no other developments within a 2 kilometer radius. Far from the madding crowd. The penthouse was on the 40th floor. It had 3 bedrooms, a kitchenette cum dining area, and a lounge, that spilled seamlessly to an open patio. A mini 5 meter infinity pool dangled perilously from one corner of the patio in spectacular overhang.

The bedrooms, lounge and patio commanded a spectacular seaview. A coral island bobbed in pristine waters 100 meters offshore.

A little known winding cliff path connected the condominium garden to a secluded beach below. The beach was accessible by this path only.

The penthouse was a private heaven unto itself. No part of it, including the open patio, was within sight of anyone anywhere. A bolthole in the sky! The closest I’ll get to heaven without the inconvenience of dying.

Besides the penthouse, my parents left Jane and I a more-than-modest sum of money. A surprise gift of largesse from our austere parents who worked and lived the Protestant Work Ethic. Counterintuitively, the unstated gift from my parents was that they never let on that there would be any inheritance, so that Jane and I were not distracted by moral hazards, in our academic and career pursuits. Between us, Jane was the more conservative one, somewhat influenced by our parents’ religious values. But, she was no prude.

The inheritance enabled us to resign from our day jobs, live in and enjoy the penthouse, and pursue home businesses which aligned to our passions. I wrote freelance, dabbled in photography and media artwork. Jane, the pragmatic one, was an avid and shrewd online trader investor.

Jane and I each occupied a bedroom. We ran a homestay on the third bedroom, listed on one of the popular online homestay apps. The homestay room had an in-built washroom and a small balcony. This was productive deployment of an otherwise idle asset. It helped defray our living expenses. And we could orbit the world without venturing past our doorstep, hosting and engaging interesting people from all over the world, on our terms. And homestay guests got to share our skyhaven, and enjoy local immersion. Win-win.

We received a homestay request from the south of England. The requestor was Chloe. A husband and wife pair. Two-week stay. She remarked that she was looking for some place quiet, private, nestled in nature, to chill. The profile pictures of our penthouse, and the vista sweep of hill-thru-sea view impressed her. I studied Chloe’s profile picture in the app. She had a pleasant look, maybe in her late forties or early fifties. This would be the second time that we were hosting English guests. Our first was a mother and son traveling pair. We had some interesting experiences from that hosting, to say the least.

Great! We replied that we’d be pleased to host her and her husband. We would pick her and her husband up from the nearest village, 3 kilometers from our condo.


Chloe messaged me from the village. I drove to the village to meet her.

From a distance, I spied a middle-aged couple at the village cafe. I instinctively scanned round to see if there were other couples nearby. There were none. I then studied the woman’s face again. Yes, it looked like Chloe’s profile picture. I strode up to them.

We introduced ourselves. Exchanged pleasantries. Chloe introduced her partner as Cole.

I couldn’t help but be captivated by Cole and Chloe. They looked the part of brother and sister. Even their mannerisms looked so. A pair of humanity cast from the same mould.

Chloe could sense that I was surprised by their likeness. She felt obliged to explain that Cole was her brother. Cole had at late notice, taken over her husband’s place because of her husband’s unforeseen work contingency. Her husband had just won a big business deal. Shit happens! But, this was a happy problem. Chloe had to scramble somewhat to source a fill-in at the eleventh hour. Chloe’s grown-up children had work commitments. Her girlfriends had work and family entanglements which they couldn’t unravel from. Her sister-in-law, Cole’s wife, was on an overseas work assignment. Coincidentally, Fındıkzade Escort Cole was clearing his excess baggage of office leave carried forward and accumulated over a couple of years. He had to clear them by an immovable deadline, or lose them, by company edict. So, Cole was roped in to this pleasant enterprise.

Chloe in the flesh, looked early fifties. She carried that classic English rose look. A curiously healthy anemic complexion, with a light dusting of freckles. And then nuances of cheeky warm cuddly lusciousness. Comely was the word that would do her social justice. Five feet, four inches. She was lush topside. Chloe was what an English rose named Chloe would classically look like.

Cole was a 6-footer. Likely late forties. Probably the younger brother. He had his measured share of soft contours apt for his age group. A good-looking man with a determined jaw. His aquiline attributes contrasted complementingly with the mellowed features of his body form to project an Adonis hunk shaped by lived experience. I knew my sis would be mutedly pleased to have this living sculpture grace our humble abode for the next two weeks.

We gathered the luggage. It was a single backpack. I asked if there was more that would be forwarded to the condominium later. No. This was it. Hmmm… this was economical. Oh well, I guess bikinis and lite casual apparel don’t consume much space. I drove back to the condominium. Cole and Chloe enjoyed the coastal drive along the winding road that hugged the hillside as it wound up. They were warming up. As we approached the condominium tower, brother and sister were awed by the 40-storey massive erection, on the hillslope, that would be their home for the fortnight.

When Jane opened the penthouse door, I detected her look of surprise at the unlikely sibling-looking pair. And then a muted quizzical askewed glance at me that enquired, what-the-fuck? After a brief but illuminating introduction, Jane led our guests to their room. Our normal orientation process was that we’ll invite the guests to the patio for an ice-breaking welcome drink and chat to establish the social baseline, show them around the penthouse, and then the near environs. Their room was furnished with a queen-sized bed. I would have to ask Chloe later if she would like any reconfiguration of the bedding arrangement. But, it would be a challenge to replace the queen-sized bed with two singles given the limited swing space.

Half an hour on, we were chilling at the patio. Cole and Chloe had changed into tropical casuals. A pleasant transformation. Chloe was in a pair of high-cut bikini shorts which accentuated and flattered her legs, and a breezy white top. My sis, herself in gym shorts, caught me checking out our comely guest, and gave a knowing teasing grin. And then her eyes roved on to ascertain Cole.

Chloe was a homemaker, but worked part time twice a week in a private school teaching Literature and Art. This explained her pétillant demeanor. She had three grown-up children.

Cole was the younger brother by five years. He was in the IT sector, as was his wife. Cole had two grown-up children. Cole carried a mien of quiet confidence. He was at ease to let his sister, the feisty one, do most of the social interaction, content to be bemused by her bubbling chirp, and the reactions it elicited.

Chloe waxed lyrical poetic on the penthouse’s spectacular dizzy view of sea and hill, the 360 degree privacy, and the cosy homey ambience of the apartment. In her words, a cottage-in-the-sky. Jane told them about the cliff path that wound down to the secluded beach, and then, the coral island offshore. Chloe appeared to place great stock on privacy. She asked if the path was the only access to the beach. She seemed pleased when Jane confirmed so. And when I told her that the coral island had a secluded beach cove on the ocean-facing side, which offered another level of privacy, she beamed.

Which prompted me to ask whether the bedding arrangement was OK, or would they prefer two single-beds in view of the change in their holiday plan. Sister looked at brother in a kind of muted suppressed amusement. Chloe observed that two single-beds would be overly crammed for the room size. She said, through stiff upper lip, that Cole and her will survive the ordeal.

She giggled, “I will have to make Cole behave, he he!” And then turning to Cole, she demurred meekly: “You will, won’t you?”

Uncharacteristically, Cole turned to his sister and growled in mock tigerish: “Grrrr…!”

Chloe whimpered: “Oh, dear!”

My sis shot me an exaggerated astounded look. Hmmm… this must be the high water mark of British reserve! And we haven’t even dipped our toes in yet! Cole was nonplussed by this playful tittilating jesting. It appeared like this was the easy outrageous banter that he engaged routinely with his sister. In any case, he felt at ease letting his effervescent sister do most of the socializing, although he was by no means shy. Fındıkzade Escort Bayan

I spied Cole’s eyes darting surreptitiously between his and my sis’s legs, as if agonizing pleasantly over a perplexing pickle. His eyes lingered generously on his sis’s legs without awkwardness, but engaged Jane’s with courteous rationed interest. I drifted. I became engrossed in Cole’s happy dilemma. My spell snapped when my sis recrossed her legs. I looked up and saw her arching what-the-fuck questioning look, which soon melted into a gratifying twinkling smile.

Later, Jane and I shared a quiet moment.

Jane: What was all that about?”

Me: More than meets the eye.

Jane (smiling): You mean, your eyes?

Me (conceding): You got me there! It’s all Cole’s fault. Self-evidently, he is a leg man. I saw him admiring his sister’s legs unabashedly. And then stealing stealthy rationed glances at yours. I became hypnotically intrigued by his interest, and my eyes took on a roving commission of their own.

Jane: Hmmm… brothers checking out their sisters. Now, how did we get here? And since we are where we are, so, you like what you saw?

Me (hesitatingly): Sexy legs!

Jane (teasingly again): Chloe’s or mine?

Me: Both! But, for different reasons. Chloe’s luscious legs complement her Rubenesque body. Your slender well-turned legs complement your lissome form.

Jane: Hmmm… you are a diplomat!

Me: Well, if you must know, I like yours better. The thing about luscious legs, if not the whole lush form, is that you have to parse what all that fleshiness is about. Is it shapeliness? Or, blubber artfully honed into shape? And then you go wondering if this and that flesh bit is rustic natural body art, or cellulite. Whereas yours are what they are. A pair of well-turned legs. Slender, soft, smooth. And perfectly toned to boot. They please and tease.

Jane (visibly pleased, pecking my cheek): Please and tease, huh? You are sweet! Here…

Jane surprised me. My lithe athletic sis extended her bare legs in front of me. She posed them this way and that in animated mock fashion model postures, shoe dangling off her toes, come-hither, and then ending up crossing her legs coquettishly.

Me: Hmmm… exquisite! A brother can describe his sister in only so many words before he crosses the line. I’ll say this. You are one hot leggy babe.

Jane was visibly pleased.


Jane and I were at the patio sipping our early morning espressos. We saw Cole and Chloe emerge from their bedroom. They didn’t see us. We decided to leave them to their own devices. They were apparently making their way, with some haste, down to the beach to catch the first morning rays, and to revel in the privacy that Chloe so valued. Chloe was in a barely-legal skimpy yellow bikini that left little to the imagination.

Cole was in a matching Brazilian-style yellow thong. Effectively a cock sock masquerading devilishly as a swimming costume.

As the minimalist brother and sister made their way to the door, Cole placed his hand on his sis’s ample hip, and then drifted to her ass, caressed it softly, as he guided her along. Chloe let her hand trail. It brushed against her brother’s thong. She squeezed it, and then tugged him along. A moveable feast.

Jane (winking): Nice bro-sis bonding, huh?

Me: They are close. If they are this playfully liberal with each other, you have to wonder what goes on in the cosy confines of their room.

Jane: It has crossed my mind. Do you think Cole replacing Chloe’s husband is a fabricated story? Do you think they are… intimate?

Me: Hmmm… They are our guests. I don’t really like to speculate on our guests.

Jane: Let’s do this. We have the full names of Chloe and Cole from the booking details. Let’s check out social media, and trawl some. It is public information, so we are not prying.

Me: OK, I see no harm in this. A kind of belated reference check. In any case, we have a late notice change of one guest, so, it is not unreasonable that we do our due diligence. We are effectively hosting strangers in our home.

Jane: Well, here is Chloe’s page. A photo of Chloe and her family. Her husband looks older than her. Maybe mid-fifties. Clunky. Could lose a few pounds. Her children are likely in their early to mid-thirties. And she is a granny, twice over. A matriach. Here is an extended clan picture.

Me: Let’s try to pick out Cole. Here he is. The lady leaning to him must be his wife.

Jane: Here is Cole’s page. Yes, that is his wife alright. Pretty lady in the classic English rose mould, his age range, slender, petite. The antithesis to Chloe. Two kids, likely in their twenties. Do you see a likeness between Chloe and Cole’s wife?

Me: You are observant! Yes! A kind of younger version reinvention of Chloe, but repackaged in petite form. Hmmm… maybe there are some pathological undercurrents here…

Jane: We should stop. Escort Fındıkzade Our due diligence is done.

Me: Yes. I guess I am getting carried away. Chloe and Cole are close from what we have observed. But, there is no reason for my flight of fantasy.


We didn’t see much of Cole and Chloe in the next two days. They left the penthouse early in the morning with beach gear and meal packs in tow, chilling at the secluded beach, swimming over to the coral island, relaxing at the village, and cycling along the corniche taking into the glorious views. They were at one with this place, and with themselves.

When they returned in the evening, in their beach togs, skimpy as ever, we would sometimes chat with them in the lounge or patio, sipping wine, watching the sun dunk below the far horizon in slo-mo. Brother and sister savored these dramatic moments of nature, snuggling close to each other, in a body language that both appeared to be conversant in.


Jane and I would make a daytrip to the city about 30 kilometers away every now and then, to attend to professional and administrative matters which we couldn’t execute over the internet. We also took this opportunity to stock up some on groceries which were unavailable in our village supermarket. On this occasion, we asked Cole and Chloe whether they would like to join us. They declined. We then took from them a list of items that they would like to buy from the city. We informed Chloe that we would be back by about 6pm. They would have the penthouse to themselves. We told Cole and Chloe that they were free to use whatever.

Jane and I completed our errands by 3pm. Two of our appointments were cancelled at late notice because the people involved were on unforseen medical leave. When we were ready to leave the city, we thought it appropriate that we should give Chloe a call to let them know that we would be home earlier than originally anticipated. Her cellphone appeared to be switched off. Maybe they were at the beach. In any case, we messaged her just in case she turned on her cellphone later.

We arrived at our penthouse at 4pm. All was quiet. The homestay bedroom door was closed. There was no sign of Cole and Chloe. Likely still at the beach, or somewhere. Jane and I brewed our espressos. We drew open the patio sliding door, and were just about to step into the patio to chill when Jane stopped dead in her tracks. I looked ahead.

The loungers were positioned side by side, facing the ocean. Cole and Chloe were naked on their loungers. Chloe was snuggled over Cole. She was nuzzling him. Her right leg draped over her brother’s hips, her thigh resting on his genitals. They were snoozing. Serene as canned peach.

Jane and I retreated hastily to her room.

Jane said: “Oh shit, we forgot to close the patio sliding door.”

I said: “Never mind, we’ll just be upfront with our guests. We did attempt to inform Chloe via her cellphone. She would’ve our message on her cellphone, as well as a missed call record.”

We watched a movie in Jane’s room as we enjoyed our espressos.

I asked: “Is all this spooking you?”

Jane pondered: “No. Not really… Let’s not read too much into this. Just a brother and sister liberated from the wretchedness of dreary weather, catching sunrays. When we went into this homestay business, one of our aims was to meet a diversity of people from all over the world. We’re doing just that now.”

Later that night, as Jane and I were chilling at the patio, Chloe joined us. Cole was in the room watching a movie.

Chloe began by apologizing for their nudity in the patio earlier. She had missed our call and message, as her cellphone had been in her room on mute. She was on holiday, and was not expecting any communication. She knew we had seen them, by the patio door that was left open.

Chloe explained that she lived a home nudist lifestyle in their country cottage in England. It wasn’t always like that. When they first moved to the cottage, they led a textile lifestyle. The cottage was remote with a secluded garden. The nearest house was a kilometer away. So, over time, they became increasingly careless, if not carefree in their dressing, to the point that nudity became convenient custom. Besides their home, they skinny dipped in the many streams and ponds near their home. The benefits of country living.

I was wondering whether this was just Chloe and her husband, or did it include Cole and his wife. As if reading my mind, Chloe clarified that the home nudity involved only her and her husband. Chloe intimated that she initiated her brother to the nudist lifestyle only on this holiday because the environment and ambience was so right for it. The private secluded beach. The coral island, and its ocean-facing beach which looked out to the open ocean. When they had the penthouse all to themselves, they decided to enjoy the nudity. It was such a high being au naturel, at the patio, basking in the sun and seawind, taking in the glorious view, at nature’s high bosom. Without awkwardness, she said that Cole and her have been nude in their room, and Cole was adapting famously to this new dimension of freedom.

Curiously, Chloe said: “This is such a treat for Cole. And of course, for me as well.”

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