Cindi’s Top Tips for Sibling Success

CINDI’S TOP TIPS FOR SIBLING SUCCESS

by Cindi Barton with Holly Rennick



GHOSTWRITER’S NOTES



My friend Cindy Barton, supporting character in my fledgling “Writer’s Notebook” may have usurped my role as leading lady. Her science-teacher flippant friendliness was, I’ll admit, sometimes a challenge to transcribe. But readers seem to appreciate frank advice.



At the request of the critics (plural being a possible inflation), I’ve collected her “Notebook” insights on brotherly love and added what didn’t make it into that blockbuster. Royalties roll to writers who sell the same story over and over (Harlequin romances come to mind.), so there’s precedent for combing through my earlier effort, though no royalties to double.



Note the authorship’s “by” and “with”. Cindi has the ideas. There’s really no end to my friend’s banter, of course. I do the work. Guess who gets famous and guess who drafts her book-tour lectures?



‘Twas I who found the scholarly citations and persuaded Cindi to include them at the end. I also slipped her the Thurber quotation, which she thought was pretty good. She didn’t, of course, know who James Thurber was. She had the Woody Allen and Simpsons quotes, as you might guess.



This piece has the plot of a telephone directory and the character development of zip codes. It’s just a bunch of thoughts.



Some of you readers have one-track minds. I’m not referring to you perverts, but rather to those of you who expect life to be sequential. So here’s some guidance on four tracks. There are a couple dozen TOPICS, related, of course. Most contain four parts.



(1) Cindi’s thoughts and dialogs, mostly conversational, sometimes a bit pedantic. The first couple of topics lean toward the serious, but then Cindi loosens up.



(2) [Ghostwriter’s whatever: My (Holly’s) inability to hold my tongue about (1). Square brackets.]



(3) A hint that Mom might know something: Those seven words. Colon. Girls need moms.



(4) Psychiatrist: ”Bla, bla, bla,” and Sister: “Bla, bla, bla.” Sorry. You’ll see why.



Per always, my social life is stalled but my literary life’s a work in progress. Let me know your edits, suggestions and irritations. I’m talking about writing, not content. If you have a problem there (which maybe you should have), I’ll pass it on to Cindi, but she won’t care.



Thus, according to my friend Cindi…



MY LITTLE PONIES



Remember My Little Ponies, those cutesy pastel equine figurines that cluttered our dressers?



[Ghostwriter’s admission: Cindi stopped at the comma, but I’m an English major.]



Each horsy (there were dozens) was of rubbery plastic with an exaggerated silky mane and tail begging to be combed. Today’s action figures involve mutilation, but girlhood wasn’t always so modern.



Being little then, the event itself sticks with me. Mom, Kyle and I were at a yard sale. Probably nobody made $30 for the effort, but income wasn’t the reason for driveway commerce. Reclamation of closet space was. The collectible darlings smiled from the 25-cent box. The ponies probably went for $3.99 at K-Mart the year before. What makes the toy industry run is, of course the “year before”. This must have been just after the fad peaked.



Mom was always good for a quarter. My Little Pony “Blossom”, purple with purple hair and white flowers, was the best, the only one worth having. I shouldn’t have announced it, though, because revealing my preference invited sibling challenge. Kyle didn’t even want one because he’s a boy, but then, of course, he had to have Blossom. Brothers!



I do know we ended up distraught and Mom said that Kyle got first choice for some stupid reason. Kyle smirked and I ended up with Cotton Candy, which I hated as soon as we drove off. When we got home, Kyle made an animal a parade with Blossom as leader. He invited dumb Cotton Candy to march as well because he knew I’d say no. To seal his victory he announced that the parade would be free to the public. I didn’t even watch Sesame Street with the jerk.



That night after supper, Kyle interrupted my Lego tower. Each row of bricks was just one color. “Cindi, Blossom feels sad and wants a friend to live with. If I give him to you, can he be Cotton Candy’s best friend?”



I didn’t even know how to answer. Kyle didn’t even know that Blossom was a girl, but that wasn’t why. “OK, if you help me make them a little barn,” as I started to disassemble my tower. “Or should we make it a fort against the bad wolves?” If my Blossom was to be a boy, he’d be more interested in battlements.



It didn’t matter that we lacked the Legos to give the castle a watchtower because we made them a secret escape door.



Psychiatrist: “Freud speaks of repressed memories.”

Sister: “But doctor, I had sex with my brother just yesterday afternoon. I remember everything.”

Psychiatrist: “But what if your mother finds out?”

Sister: “We’re pretty sure that she does it with Dad already.”



[Ghostwriter’s disclaimer: Cindi insisted on these jokes. You may opt to skip them.]



WHAT’S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT?



Everything.



Why do you think I started off about My Little Ponies instead of an orgasmic true fantasy of feigning slumber while brother ravaged my nubile body?



[Ghostwriter’s note: Cindi said, “Fucked me,” but I found that verb overly simplistic. After a while you’ll sense where I’ve upgraded her literary style.]



Kyle was a pain in the butt, but I love the guy like a brother. After all, he is. Blossom told me that Kyle loved me too, that he’d never rape me, though at that age, of course, sex wouldn’t have even been in our imagination. Making love with Kyle, when it happened, had everything to do with My Little Ponies.



So let’s be very clear. My thoughts deal with mutual affection between caring siblings.



You probably love your father too, but that’s not the same. You and he aren’t equal in deciding. If you’re sexually active at home, odds are that it’s with your father or other older male. Saying OK doesn’t legitimize a damn thing; he’s still raping you. I said, RAPING YOU. Find a safer place to live. If you have a younger sister, go to your school counselor or the police. This is major.



[Ghostwriter’s confirmation: This is major.]



If your brother is coercing you, it’s hardly mutual. Tell Mom. Nothing that follows applies to bullying.



If we’re just horny, there are millions of studs. As Woody Allen observed, “Sex without love is an empty experience, but as empty experiences go, it’s a pretty good one.” So go to a singles bar. Put an ad in the paper, “Enjoy sunsets, classic rock, California wine and intercourse.” If the “Women seeking Men”, listings don’t like that last word, then, “Ford trucks”. You probably don’t want to look for your guy at a contra dance.



[Ghostwriter’s lament: When I phoned the one who responded, I said I just love the commercial where the guys drive their Silverado to fight the forest fire. He lost interest. Cindi’s just being snotty about contra dancers. They just work so hard at their software firms that they sometimes don’t have time to shower.]



Brothers and sisters get smashed and fuck, but what results isn’t worth much. If you bed your brother the first time you get itchy, maybe you’re a natural rabbit. That’s too bad, because you’ll end up eating lettuce. If it takes a while to share intimacy, let it. That can be just as exciting as proving it. More exciting, even.



Unless there’s love involved, you might as well just study some sex manual. Ever tried the Indonesian Helicopter? I’m not here to discuss mechanics. My whole theory, actually, is that the mechanics usually work out just fine.



My thoughts apply to those of us who were willing first time and remain so today. Enough romantic schmaltz. But it’s true.



Psychiatrist: “So maybe this is about unrequited affection.”

Sister: “Maybe so. We get real noisy when we’re home alone.”



[Ghostwriter’s I-told-you-so: I told you so.]



JOURNEYS AND DESTINATIONS



Sibling sex should be smart sex. Your IQ exceeds his penis length. Try this little survey on your girlfriends.



(1) Describe your first intercourse.

(2) Describe the foreplay that got you there.



You’ll be lucky to get more than a few clinical sentences for (1). They move their penises in our vaginas, hardly much story there, other than for English majors to rouge up, “It was my first orgasm, drenching me with warm ecstasy, shivering me from toes to crown, leaving me limp.” If she’s honest, she’ll admit it was actually one big letdown. Mostly an exercise in cleaning up after him.



[Ghostwriter’s retort: Cheap shot about English majors.]



Question (2), however, will invoke paragraphs about zippers, straps, kissing, lubricating, on and on, tactile memories mostly. When did he first touch her nipple? How were they pressing when she realized what it was? You’ll hear how her underwear came off, how she got the courage to reach into his pants. See what this says? Sex is a journey, a continuum of delights, not just a penetration.



[Ghostwriter’s amplification: His testicles can be very traumatic.]



So let’s travel with our brother.



Psychiatrist: “This journey theme might be significant. Perhaps you feel abandoned in this world, longing for the security of home.”

Sister: “I’m sure I put my address on the insurance form. It’s the same for us both, of course.”



HESITATION



Of course you’ve got trepidation. If you didn’t, you’d have the integrity of that rabbit. Love’s scary sometimes. And of course your brother has his doubts too. It’s not your job to make up his mind, but it’s something you can help by encouraging progressive possibilities.



You’d never ask, “Shall we have sex? Yes or No?”



But you might try, “A part of us wants to finish together, but a part of us is used to how it was before, as I see it. We’re not trying to prove anything; we’re just showing how we feel, right? Don’t push in unless you want to. Just a little bit.”



Or, “There are so many things to think about, right? But you know? Knowing that we want to do puts the rest of it in perspective. We can figure things out when we need to, right? So should I pick up some condoms in case we’d ever want to think about using them?”



Or even, “Part of you wants to love me like a woman, like I want to love you as a man, but part of you knows how I’m a girl too. Can’t I be both? You should go really slowly if I’m a girl to help me get ready.”



Did you catch how to elicit positive progressive responses? Psychology? You bet! Is psychology a science? No way! We don’t have to convince chemicals to react.



[Ghostwriter’s suggestion: Those of us both hesitant and unpsychological can just slip a chemical into the cocoa. We each have a cup]



Hesitation isn’t a one-time issue. You’ll deal with it over and over, but each time hesitate about something a bit closer to where you want to end up.



The thing is, your mom’s hard to fool when the two of you are wondering about having sex. It would depend on how she grew up, if she had a brother herself, maybe. Mom’s easier fooled when you’re doing it than when it’s in your eyes.



A hint that Mom might know something: She points you to the progressive possibilities. “The thing is that you kids have a lot of years ahead, much less a long ride tonight. There’s lots of ways for two to sleep in the back seat. Like it’s the end of the world if you two might actually touch? My brother and I, we’ll snuggle now, but it took time. Why not give each other foot rubs? There’s the blanket to get under if the heater doesn’t do it back there.”



Psychiatrist: “So deep within, you hesitate about your brother having sex with you.”

Sister: “Actually, that’s where I like it best.”

Psychiatrist: “A moment of hesitation is, of course, is natural when a doctor, say, rests his hand on a girl’s knee like this.”

Sister: “It beats getting bonked by that little rubber hammer.”

Psychiatrist: “You’re psycho-developmentally where when I move my hand inward, your reflex moves your knee outward. See?”



VIRGINITY



When you and your brother first have sex, there are but four possibilities.



[Ghostwriter’s frustration: Can’t you just see Cindi making this a two-by-two matrix on the board?]



(1) Virgins Both



The stuff of stories. If the two of you learn together, you’re luckier than hell. The act itself may be a disaster for a while, but you’ll love figuring it out. Oh, the grins you’ll share in later years! It wouldn’t be more rewarding just because one of you knew something Indonesian.



Ever see Blue Lagoon? Brook Shields was just 15 when she played the role in the nude! But then, she posed naked when she was 10, so maybe 15’s no big deal. When I was 15, I looked about 10, so she beat me for the part. Anyway, seeing the movie will make you and your brother want to lose your innocence together.



[Ghostwriter’s amazement: I never realized that Cindi was a child actor!]



A hint that Mom might know something: “Look, Cindi, I found Blue Lagoon in the Half-Off bin! You can’t go wrong with these National Geographic ones.”



(2) Virgin Brother, Experienced Sister



They say that guys find solace in not knowing too much. A lesbian lover, so I’m told, wants to know all your history. Fortunately, your brother’s not a lesbian unless your mom’s a transvestite or something.



You say that you’ve already been professionally reamed by a studly cock that drove you to twenty minutes of unabashed ecstasy? Well hot shit! That fucker’s probably right now wagging his magical dick for some slut who says she’s twenty-one but rouges her nipples. Your brother has to start somewhere and you should be honored.



Don’t instruct. A novice won’t know about your clitoris (and even if he’s ridden a few mares, so to speak, he might not know much). He’ll learn about yours in good time, given a few pelvic thrusts when he’s getting close.



Put your other relationships on hold for a while. Your brother’s not going elsewhere yet, so reciprocate. He’ll improve in bed a lot faster if you need him.



A hint that Mom might know something: “If you want a boy, say, to carry your books, leave your backpack in your locker. Maybe Kyle just needs some experience about not being awkward with girls.”



(3) Virgin Sister, Experienced Brother



As sexist as it sounds, dear brother was just doing what society expects guys to do. If you’re part of his newly discovered “manly nature”, though, adios. He’ll be cavalier about you as well. “Oh yes, you’re Kyle’s sister,” you’ll hear from some leering drunk trying to look down your neckline. But if you find comfort in his care, give him you love.



A hint that Mom might know something: “I wouldn’t want you spending the day there with just any guy, Cindi, but Kyle will take good care of you.”



(4) Virgins Neither



This is the most common starting point. If both are already comfortable with sex, you’ll know what signals to pass. Dating closer to home, so to speak, enters the menu. Sibling sex is nature’s refuge from exhaustive casual sex with hardly-known partners. Though you still have the drudgery of being in two beds by morning, at least you can doze knowing you’ll be resting your cheek on his little mole forever.



Sexual prowess makes game playing less necessary. Too bad, but it’s the price we pay for lost innocence. The adult thing would be to discuss intercourse from informed vantage points and then execute the agreement. “Kyle, we’ve got 17 minutes and we don’t do oral on weekdays.” Well, we don’t have to be so grownup, for goodness sakes. Leave room for some seduction, some vacillation, some novelty. It’s your demarcation between being kids and being lovers. “Oh, Kyle, if we pretend it’s Saturday, I won’t have to go to my ballet lesson.” So it’s still sort of a first time.



A hint that Mom might know something: “You’re both pretty grown up. You’ll wash your dishes while we’re gone. You’ll not have friends overnight. You’ll both head for bed at a decent hour. You’ll help each other stay safe, you hear?”



Psychiatrist: “Incestuously loosing your virginity can scar your psyche.”

Sister: “Well, I guess I was sore for a couple of days.”



ODDS



[Ghostwriter’s disclaimer: I explained to Cindi that math anxiety will make everybody stop reading. I’m very displeased. Just skip this section.]



You think I’m just making this up? In “Brothers & Sisters” (St. Martins, 1991), J. Mersky Leder estimates that 2.3 percent of us have sex with a brother before 18. Check me! Don’t buy the book, though; just go to Borders and read it where they sell coffee.



I’ve summarized some other sister-brother studies at the end of what you’re reading. One suggests that it might be 2 percent prior to age 14. Another estimates 17 percent prior to age 13. Another suggests 15 percent. And another, that 12 percent of our household partners are brothers. The last figure doesn’t even approximately fit, but it’s published. I like to study things, but let’s not argue numbers here. We know we’re out there.



[Ghostwriter’s research: Finding all the numbers and doing the divisions on my calculator.]



If you hate math, sorry. I teach science and like to illustrate how numbers fit together. Seventy-three percent of boys and 56 percent of girls have intercourse by age 18, according to the web (as if that makes it reliable). As 2 to 17 percent still isn’t much compared to 56 percent, those of us who’ve slept with brother are way in the minority.



So take a moment to decide where you fit when you first made love together (or will fit when you do).



(1) Virgins Both

(2) Virgin Brother

(3) Virgin Sister

(4) Virgins Neither



How does our sorority divide into these four groups? We’ll start by assuming that our brother’s behavior is not related to ours (we call this “statistical independence”). We’ll illustrate with 100 families, randomly pairing 73 sexually-experienced brothers plus 27 virgin brothers with 56 sexually-experienced sisters plus 44 virgins. We’d statistically expect to find 12, 15, 32 and 41 sister-brother couples in my 1-4 group order. See if you can figure out how I got those numbers.



It surely varies by age. My math shows the Virgin Brother group count to be 16, 15, and 14 when brother is younger, the same age, and older. There are fewer older virgin brothers for younger experienced sisters. Makes sense to me. Actually, no matter the age difference, our Virgin Brother group isn’t that large.



But wait, you say! We aren’t independent. If my brother wasn’t sexually active, maybe it’s tied to our family values and I’m more likely to be a virgin too. So let’s push that to its limit. Out of 100 sibling couples, you’ll get 27, 0, 17 and 56 in my 1-4 group listing.

Q: Why are there now no brothers loosing their virginity to experienced sisters?

A: Because of the 73 already-experienced brothers, 56 sleep with already-experienced sisters. The remaining 17 experienced brothers get the virgins. Poor fellows!



Real life falls somewhere between pure statistical independence and perfect correlation. Do you really care? OK, no, if you’re just into prose. On the other hand, it’s kind of fun to see where you fall into the spectrum.



[Ghostwriter’s disclaimer: I have no idea what she said. I just wrote what she told me.]



A hint that Mom might know something: In her desk you found hard copies of articles cited at the end of this document. The finding “Those with positive sibling experiences after age 9 have more sexual self-esteem.” was highlighted.



Psychiatrist: “Why are you so numeric about sibling sex?”

Sister: “I am not! I just have one brother.”

Psychiatrist: “Speaking of numbers, I’ll just need to cup you here to monitor your heartbeat. Its intensity tells me when we’re touching on your most repressed desires.”

Sister: “Gee, doctor. I guess it did just pick up speed.”



BRA



[Ghostwriter’s relief: Whew! That last section was heavy.