Bedtime Stories for Grownups
Facing Facts
I KISSED BRADLEY when he brought my car back and thanked him. “I just started my period and I’m too moody to go out tonight,” I told him.
“That’s okay. I understand,” he said. I doubted that. But he was nice.
As soon as he left, I ran to my brother’s room and turned on his laptop. I had the password now, so it didn’t take long before I was searching through every folder on his computer. Bingo! All I had to do was read the names of the files to know that I’d found the entire cache of stories he’d posted online and a whole bunch that weren’t there. There were dozens—maybe hundreds—of stories in that folder. “Helping My Sister,” “My Sister’s Little Problem,” “Sleepwalking with Sister,” “It Happened One Night.” I closed the folder, restored his desktop to the condition I found it and locked the computer.
I had to confront my brother. I couldn’t keep living like this.
First, I went on line and started reading every story under his penname, “Sister’s Favorite.” I might have rubbed my clit raw, too, but it was all in the interest of being well-informed. Now that I knew what I was looking for, I saw it in every story. Little things that had happened at home or school, things we said in conversation, family circumstances, even a description or two of the way I brushed my hair.
I was devastated. It was like being Roxanne and discovering that Cyrano was her real admirer. How could my brother write this stuff about me?
I was up all night and never went to bed Sunday morning. By the time I made my usual trip to his room on Sunday afternoon to get our assignments, I hadn’t slept in forty-some hours. I hadn’t had a shower and I stunk. If the stories about him stealing my underwear were based on reality, he already knew what my sex smelled like.
“Hey, Hil,” he said without looking up from his computer. “Better get started on that English Lit paper we have due on Friday. She wants real research and references. You know how much time that takes. Physics will be a breeze. It’s about wave interference and we did those experiments last week. Government is just…”
“Eric, stop. Look at me.” My brother jerked his head around.
“My God! You look like hell! What’s wrong?” His concern was touching.
“Thanks a lot. Eric, this has got to stop.”
“Giving you your assignments? I don’t mind. I’ve got them all written down and it’s silly not to share them.”
“You’ve got to stop writing stories about having sex with me.”
His mouth just fell open. I’ll give him credit for not trying to deny anything. His mouth moved a few times and he pushed away from his desk. He stepped around to the other side of his bed to put it between us—like he was scared of me. He just stared at me and I saw a tear run down his cheek. Oh fuck! My brother was crying.
“You were never supposed to know,” he mumbled.
“Whatever possessed you to think that I’d have sex with you?” I demanded.
“I didn’t. I know you never would. It’s all ruined now.”
“What do you mean? How long have you been writing these stories? There’s dozens of them.”
“Hundreds. I started about six years ago. Oh, there were a few before that, but I really started then.”
“You were writing about us having sex when we were twelve?” I couldn’t believe it. He shook his head.
“No. The early stories were just about us playing together and being friends and doing pretend stuff. We didn’t start having sex until… I mean I didn’t write about sex until we were fifteen. Then I just couldn’t help it. I tried to disguise it so no one would be able to tell it was me or you. I just… love you.”
My brother just told me he loved me. And I don’t think he meant in a nice brotherly way. I was running on sheer willpower at the moment and not all my thoughts were coming out straight.
“When did you have time to write all this? You’re pretty much a straight A student in school. I know you study and you read all the assignments. How do you have time to write all these stories?” I asked.
“I don’t sleep at night.”
“Huh?”
“I’ve never really needed more than a couple hours of sleep a night. Sometimes I take a fifteen-minute nap after school. Spending an extra six hours awake when no one else is—or in your case eight or ten hours—was driving me crazy, so I started writing. My first stories were about you being Sleeping Beauty.” That was so sweet. Stop it! I had to get my head back in the game. I should have slept last night.
“But you know I’d never do any of this, right?”
“You mean you aren’t going to throw yourself at me and kiss me?” He grinned but tears were still running out of his eyes. “I know. I never thought you would. I just thought I could have this private little fantasy world where I could live happily ever after.”
“I didn’t know how unhappy you were.”
“I’m not unhappy. Well, maybe now I am. I was really happy. I never let it cross over into the real world. Now… Now it’s all gone.”
“You haven’t even apologized,” I said. I wanted to ignore his pain and focus on mine. Selfish bitch.
“For what? I didn’t invade your privacy. Search your computer. I never peeked at you or tried to see down your blouse. I never touched you inappropriately. I never made rude comments to you. Exactly what am I supposed to apologize for?”
“For…” Shit. I really had no place to talk, did I? “For hiding on the other side of your bed instead of being over here where I can hug you and say I’m sorry.”
He came around the bed and I hugged him a little awkwardly. We weren’t all that demonstrative a family and I didn’t really want to push my breasts into him or feel his erection, did I?
“I’m sorry I invaded your privacy,” I said. “It was an accident at first. Then I kind of got obsessed. Then when I realized you weren’t just reading incest porn but you were writing it, I sort of got freaked out.”
“Which one?”
“The one about rebuilding the engine in my car.”
“So, you went to Bradley’s house yesterday while I changed your oil.”
“Yeah. I was pretty freaked out. Then I came back and read all the stories I could in the past twenty-four hours. God! You write a lot. I started seeing us in all of them.”
“Hil, you know I’d never do anything to you, don’t you? I love you and I’d never do anything to make you unhappy. Not intentionally, I mean. Please don’t… Don’t stop being my sister.”
“How the hell could I stop being your sister?” I shoved him back so he sat on the bed and I sat beside him. “It just shocked me that you thought about me like that.”
“You never thought of me like that?”
“No! Well, not until I started reading your stories. Then I kept substituting Bradley for you except that every once in a while, your face would be on his shoulders or I started wondering if you were looking at me right then. And…” I cut off what I was going to say. He laughed at me.
“You masturbated, didn’t you!” I looked at him and he was enjoying himself so much that I laughed, too.
“I rubbed myself raw,” I confessed. “I mean, look. You’re really a good writer and the sex was really hot. The first one I read I didn’t even realize they were brother and sister until the end. Then I was so shocked I ran to bed and hid under the covers.”
“Well, I’m glad you got some enjoyment out of it.”
“You got a bunch of stuff wrong, though,” I said. Why did I tell him that?
“Like what?”
“Well, to start with, I’m not a virgin.” I’d never had this personal a discussion with my brother and never intended to, but I guess I was a little punchy with lack of sleep and all the emotion that was being tossed around. I guessed there was nothing wrong with correcting a few of his misconceptions.
“I kind of figured that. It’s not like Bradley is the most circumspect guy you could have chosen, you know.”
“Don’t tell me he talks.”
“No more than any of the other guys.”
“You always make a point of that in your stories,” I said. “The brother never kisses and tells. So to speak.” He didn’t answer. “Speaking of kissing,” I plunged on, “I would never in a million years let any boy plunge his cock into me before we kissed. You have a lot of boys coming up behind their sisters and just sliding in. Look, if you can’t face me and put your lips on mine, there is no way I’ll be wet enough for you to just slip it in, no matter how turned on you thought I was.”
“Kissing really turns you on?”
“More than anything else.”
“I guess… Well, I just didn’t know about kissing.”
“What? You’ve been on dates. Don’t tell me you’ve never kissed a girl.” He hung his head. He was ashamed of having never… “Oh no! You’re still a virgin, too, aren’t you?” He nodded.
What was I going to do now? I knew he’d been out on dates with several girls, but to never have gotten to first base? No wonder my girlfriends all raved about what a perfect guy he was and then went out with someone else.
“You know it’s not going to be like anything you’ve read or written?” I really should have been more awake when I had this conversation. He was starting to make sense to me.
“What’s not?”
“Kissing me. You’re not just going to attack my lips and thrust your tongue down my throat. And if you grab my boobs on the first kiss, you’ll be sorry you ever wrote word one.”
“You mean…??
“Just keep your tongue in your mouth. Okay?” He nodded. I leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips. I didn’t rush it. I wanted him to remember his first kiss. It did nothing for me, but I could hear his breathing speed up. I broke it off.
“Wow!” he whispered. “Was it okay?”
“It was like kissing my brother.”
“Oh yuck! I wouldn’t kiss him. He’s all big and hairy.” We had a half-brother from Dad’s first marriage who was ten years older than us. He had lived with his mother and we rarely saw him. I wasn’t sad about that.
“Not that brother, idiot! I mean…”
“Yeah. I know what you mean. Kissing me didn’t make your nipples hard. Didn’t make your clit tingle. Didn’t make your panties wet. You might as well have kissed your reflection in a mirror.”
“Don’t embarrass me, Eric.” I could feel my face getting red. Maybe my own breathing speeded up a little. I recognized those words from one of his stories and a few paragraphs later they were fucking. “It’s just that I wanted you to know what kissing your sister would be like. It’s not, like, about sex. It’s just your sister. You could probably kiss me like that anytime and it would be okay.”
“Oh. Then I guess I can’t really count that as my first real kiss.” His shoulders slumped.
“A lot goes into a first real kiss,” I sighed. “You remember Donny Maple?”
“The guy you went out with when we were freshmen?”
“Yeah. We kind of went out for most of the year, you know? He asked me to the first basketball game of the season and mostly we just went to games together. It took four months for him to get to first base. And it wasn’t for lack of trying. I think he tried to kiss me every time we went out.”
“You finally gave in?”
“Not exactly. He wasn’t even trying when I kissed him. I think he’d given up. It was just before Easter and we went to that play at his church. It was a little creepy, but there was some good music. The ending was really happy and I was in a good mood when his parents brought me home. I stopped at the front door and all of a sudden his lips were just there and they were moist and ready and I kissed him. Then his parents honked and he backed off the porch. He practically fell down the stairs.”
I looked at Eric. I could see what he was thinking. I shouldn’t have tormented him with the story of my first kiss when he’d never had a first kiss. The brother-sister kiss I just gave him really didn’t count. I supposed I could get one of my girlfriends to kiss him, but he was right there and I just leaned toward him.
“Don’t move,” I whispered. He froze. “Your lips need to be moist but not dripping. Let me.” I came toward his mouth and just before we touched, I licked his lips with the tip of my tongue. He caught his breath. “Now, soft lips, Eric. Don’t get aggressive.” I put my lips on his and kissed him as sweetly as I knew how. I was just going to give him a little kiss and then pull away, but I steeled myself and decided to make sure his first kiss was as memorable as mine had been. I put my arms around him and put everything I had into the kiss. I felt his arms around me and I sort of pretended that it was Bradley. As soon as I thought that, I reached out with my tongue and found his waiting there for me. Honest, I was going to pull away, but it was kind of nice and he was really gentle and I sort of lost track of who I was kissing. If I didn’t think about him being my brother, he was a really good and sexy kisser.
“I love you, Hillary.”
“Shh. Don’t ever say that to a girl right after your first kiss,” I said. I laid my head against his shoulder. “She’ll think it’s just getting turned on that you love. I mean, I know it’s not that with you because you’ve already told me you love me in spite of me discouraging you. But it’s better not to say anything and just enjoy the glow.” I realized that my breathing was a little rapid and I tried to take a deeper breath but I could feel our hearts beating against each other. I don’t know what came over me. I raised my lips and found his waiting for me. He didn’t get aggressive with me—no grabbing at me or anything—and we just kissed slowly and leisurely, exploring each other with our tongues. I was almost asleep in his arms and dreaming of Prince Charming trying to wake Sleeping Beauty with a kiss. Oh, shit!
I pulled away from my brother and looked into his eyes. Mine are blue. His are brown. How different can twins be? I pushed away and staggered to my feet.
“I’m dead. I’ve got to go take a nap and stuff,” I said, staggering for the door. I stopped and turned to look at him still sitting on the bed with a dreamy look in his eyes. “Eric, all those things you said didn’t happen to me the first time? Um… They did that time.” I turned and fled to the sanctity of my own bedroom.
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