You First 2

The next day, Sunday, I woke up and remembered what had happened. I sort of, I don’t know, braced myself, I guess, preparing to feel weird. Or awkward. Or grossed out, or ashamed, or whatever. Something. Something bad, you know? I mean, seriously, think about it – I’d just been given a blowjob by my own sister, and I’d finger-fucked her to orgasm. Didn’t that make us like insane sexual deviants or something? Doomed to years of psychotherapy at the hands of dour men with glasses and white coats? Seriously disturbed, they’d write on their clipboards. Sick and twisted beyond all human reckoning.

The thing was – I didn’t feel that way.

So what did I feel like? Well, I still felt like me, at least. I still felt like a normal teenage boy with an addiction to video games, novels, and naked girls. One of those naked girls just happened to be my sister, who I still loved and enjoyed spending time with, regardless of how much clothing she had on. Was I ashamed of what had happened yesterday? No. Had I enjoyed it? Hell yeah!

Did I want to do it again?

Hmm.

I had to admit I was kind of stumped on that one. I mean, sure, what guy wouldn’t want his dick sucked, but what was really killing that desire was the fact that I didn’t know Jen’s opinion on the matter. This whole thing had started to try to help her out with what I had felt was a silly problem, and… well, I wouldn’t say it had gotten out of hand, but it had certainly escalated. So I guess it really came down to how she felt. And that’s the thought that made me nervous. What if she wanted to keep going? What if she didn’t? What if she regretted what had happened, and hated me now? What the hell would I do then? Mom and Dad would certainly notice when she suddenly started treating me differently. They’d try to get it out of us sooner or later. What if she told? Oh, man, I would be in such deep shit.

Dude. Seriously. Shut up. I had to force myself to calm down. I was worrying over things that hadn’t happened yet. I sat up in bed and rubbed my face. Clearly, there was only one real course of action – I had to talk to Jen.

I had just swung my feet down to the floor when there was a soft knock on the door. “Shawn? Are you up?”

I swear, my mother has the worst timing in the universe. “Yeah, Mom, I’m up.”

The door opened and she poked her head in. Jen gets most of her facial features from Mom, but where her hair was blonde and curly, Mom’s was brown and straight. She gave me a smile. “Want some breakfast?”

Breakfast. Yes. Always easier to think on a full stomach. “Yes. Yes I do.”

“You all right? Did you sleep okay?”

I looked at her with the most deadpan expression I could muster, and said, “Bacon solves everything.”

She laughed. “Okay, I’ll have some for you in a few minutes. Hurry up, your sister’s already downstairs, and she wants to go to the mall today.” She shut the door.

Fuck, I didn’t want to go to the mall! I hated going there; ever since the comic book shop closed there wasn’t anything I was interested in. But I had to go if Jen was going. If I pressed, I’m sure I could stay home by myself, but I really needed to talk to her. At least at the mall, there was a chance I could get her by herself for a few minutes, away from the parents and anyone else (how weird would that be to hear strangers talking about!). There was no way I was going to try to have his conversation over text message, either. Not only would that be way impersonal, it would be too easy for Mom or Dad to accidentally see a fragment of it, and we’d both be up shit creek.

Okay, man, cowboy up, I coached myself and I got out of bed and got dressed. This is all for the greater good (“The greater good,” droned the voices from the cult from Hot Fuzz in my mind). A few hours at the mall isn’t going to kill you.

True to Mom’s word, Jen was already dressed and at the table when I got there, a cleaned plate and half a glass of orange juice in front of her. “Morning, Shawn,” she said with a smile.

And at that, I knew everything was going to be all right. What was I panicking about? This was Jen, coolest sister in the universe. We still needed to have a little chat, but things were okay. She wasn’t mad or disgusted or anything. We were cool.

Mood improved, I devoured breakfast, and then soldiered to the mall.



The mall sucked, of course.

Not once was I able to tug Jen away from our parents, not for more than a few minutes. Look, I’ll just make a long story short and say that nothing really productive came out of it, all right? The whole trip was a waste of time. Jen got a sweater or something and Dad was argued down to a socket wrench (he’s a bit of a tool nut).

I actually had to sweat all through dinner, when Jen and I were finally free to escape upstairs. About to burst, I only made it about halfway up the stairs before I told her, in a low voice, “We need to talk.”

Jen nodded back at me, biting her lip, waiting until we’d reached the top and glancing backwards before she answered. “My room?”

“Sure.”

It was a gamble. While it wasn’t unheard of for one of us to go into the other sibling’s room, we spent far, far more time in the den. Should one of our parents come by, it would attract less attention for us to talk there, and it would let us see them coming. On the other hand, in her room, we could shut the door, even partially, and muffle our conversation. We opted for silence. She motioned me inside first and closed the door nearly fully, leaving only a crack. Then, in a brilliant move, Jen yanked her math book out of her backpack and placed it open on her desk.

“You’re helping me out with this linear equation stuff,” she said. I nodded. Our cover story was set.

Even with all the security measures, and finally having the chance to talk, it seemed we were both nervous about it, because for a few minutes neither of us spoke. She leaned back against her desk, while I sat on the floor, bracing my back against her bed. “So,” I finally said.

“So,” she agreed.

“So that was a thing that happened.”

“Yeah.”

“So… what now?”

She bit her lip. “Are you mad at me?”

I gaped at her, caught totally off-guard. I ran the question through my head a few times. Finally, I couldn’t come up with a better answer than, “I’m sorry?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking at the floor. “I know I shouldn’t have. I guess I just got caught up in the mo-“

“You think I’m mad at you?”

She looked up. “You’re not?”

I had to stifle a laugh. “No!”

She looked bewildered. “Oh.”

“I thought you were mad at me!”

“What? No! Why would you think that?”

“Why would you!”

She started laughing, then, and I couldn’t help but join in. “We’re idiots,” I said. Jen just nodded, biting her lips, trying to keep the laughter at bay.

“All right,” I said after a moment, “cards on the table time, okay?” Again, Jen just nodded.