I think I stopped breathing. Six months since my sister Lucy’s boyfriend Craig had died in a single-car accident. And when she did she seemed a shell of the young woman she’d been six months ago. I understood her intent and stared at her goal, my stiff pole, as I felt it become harder and harder at her slow approach. Now I was licking, kissing, sucking greedily as her tempo rapidly quickened, as her breathing became a ragged mix of panting and gasping. I can’t wait. But as she explained later to me, for a girl that had never had sex, she began to wonder about our respective sizes. “Luce…if we do this we can’t go back. All I could do was answer with a kiss as she immediately pulled me down onto her bed. Finally she lifted her head and we kissed again, a long, loving kiss. It’s like I’ve been dead for months and somehow you’ve brought me back to life.
