“Yeah.”
“Well then say it.”
“Your big brother has been fucking his little sister.”
I leaned in and whispered even more quietly “then fuck me, bro, right now, and knock me up, try to knock your little sister up. I was eager to head out to dinner with my brother so I also stripped down and added to the laundry load, wrapping myself in a towel and headed downstairs for my shower. “No you don’t, bro, NO YOU DON’T,” I laughed. My last waking thought was “we’re both above the age of consent…and we love each other.”
That summer my brother hit many home runs. He’d taught me much the evening before that I was happy to teach him the intricacies of blouse and bra removal, a lesson that did not have to be repeated as my brother slowly recovered his senses after his first look at a young woman’s breasts, up close and, as they say, in the flesh. Some, I know, never learn that. No, not a rule; a fact.”
“That didn’t count, bro. If my orgasms had been, say, one-hundred watt light bulbs, this one was a blinding flash, but
