Speech finally returned as I began telling my brother over and over how much I loved him. After lying together in the shade for probably half an hour, silently absorbing each other’s presence and feeling the static sexual charges passing through the space between us, with a quiet grunt Paul suggested it was time to go home. I wanted the freedom of a driver’s license by the time I entered my junior year of high school. Just in time he warned me of his orgasm, but not before his first jet of sperm hit my cheek and his following, unending, it seemed, jets hit my neck, my breasts, my navel. At least for my brother. I could probably bore you with my hundredth account of our kisses, caresses, fondling, but I won’t. I threatened to “tell Mom” what they’d been up to if he didn’t agree to give me a kissing lesson.
