October 30, 2008
In My Memories
I stand out on the patio, watching the sea, hearing the waves crash on the beach. I close my eyes and let the environment wash over me. The world is carrying on as though this is any other day. It doesn’t seem fair.
I sigh and go back into my house. It was only a couple hours ago that the phone had rung, my nephew giving me the sad news that my older brother, George, had died of a heart attack. That had been an hour ago. Now I am facing a whole lot more excitement in the next few days than I want.
I sit down in front of my computer and surf over to travelocity. Making arrangements to travel all the way from Guam to New York City so that I can attend my brother’s funeral is not going to be easy, especially at the age of seventy-one. I love living out here, but it’s a real chore getting back to the mainland.
The flight in question involves me going from Guam to Tokyo, Tokyo to Los Angeles, and then Los Angeles to New York. On the way back, it’s New York to Seattle, Seattle to Honolulu and Honolulu to Guam. All first class, of course. At my age, if you’re going to spend more than 25 hours flying, you’ll do it in comfort.
Once the arrangements are made, and I know I’ll be departing tomorrow, I make a cup of tea and go back outside. Sipping my tea I sit down and let my mind wander back to the summer of 1945, when I was eleven, and my life changed forever…
* * *
I was sitting in the living room of our New York apartment, thumbing through “Life” while listening to “Little Orphan Annie” on the radio. It was one of my favorite shows! I liked reading “Life”, because I was able to see pictures of the soldiers and sailors. My dad had been a sailor. He’d been on the USS Arizona when the Japs had hit Pearl Harbor. He didn’t make it off.
My mother worked in radio. She did bit parts. Nothing big. But she got to work with important people, so that was nice. It also meant that she had enough money to keep our family together. We weren’t rich or anything, but we lived ok.
George, my brother, was fourteen. He was what most kids today would call a nerd or a geek. Nixon would later refer to people like him as eggheads. To me he was just my sweet, scrawny, wonderful brother who had glasses as thick as Coke bottle bottoms. I loved him dearly.
There was a sense of optimism in the air that summer. The Nazis had been beaten, the Italians had been beaten, and now the Japs were on the ropes. Everyone knew they wouldn’t last much longer. President Truman may not have been as… well… he wasn’t FDR, but we knew he could get the job done.
George had been out with some of his friends. He’d gotten home about twenty minutes ago, and had gone to his bedroom. Now he came out and sat on the couch next to me.
“I got a question for you.”
George looked a little awkward. Finally he said, “Have you ever kissed a boy before?”
“No,” I snappishly replied. “Have you?”
George rolled his eyes. “Gee, Lizzie, I was just asking.”
“Why were you asking?”
George shrugged. “I was just wondering.”
“Well, ok. For the record, then, have you kissed any…” I paused long enough to let him get a little annoyed, then said, “… girls?”
George shook his head. “No. Most of my friends have, but I haven’t.”
“They say it’s awfully fun.”
I had no idea where my brother was going with all this. All I knew is that he was keeping me from listening to the radio.
“One of them has done a lot more.”
“Yeah. You know Herman’s brother, Jack?”
“Yes.” Jack was seventeen and I thought he was really cute.
“Well… he’s done… lots of things with girls. Even, you know, THAT.”
“That?” I repeated, confused.
“You know. THAT. The big thing boys and girls can do.”
“Oh. OH!” I knew what he was talking about. He was talking about sex. Our mom was fairly progressive and had given us all the information about where babies came from. Half my friends thought there was a cabbage leaf or a stork involved.
“Yeah. He says it’s lots of fun. I was talking with him about it. He says it feels really good. Better than anything! He says it feels best for the girl.”
“It does?” I asked, intrigued.
“Yeah.” He took a breath. “So… I was thinking.” He took another deep breath. “Well… some day I’ll be doing things like that with a girl… and you’ll be doing them with a boy.”
I blushed a little. “When I’m married, yes.”
“Yes, of course.” George blushed, too. “Well… he says it’s lots of fun, but some of it takes lots of practice.”
“Yeah. So…” George took another deep breath. “Well… I thought maybe you and me could… you know… practice together.”
My brain took a few seconds to put that together, then I blushed again. “You don’t mean… THAT?”
Shaking his head, my brother said, “No, no. Not all the way. I just thought we could practice some of the things that lead up to… THAT.”
“Like what?” I asked, interested despite myself.
“Well… there’s kissing. And touching. And some other stuff. Jack said it’s all really, really fun and feels wonderful. But he said also it’s a good idea to practice it, too.”
“Oh,” I said, unsure what else I could say.
“So… like I said… if you wanted… we could practice together. That way when we get married we’ll know what we’re doing.”
“I don’t know… it sounds a little strange,” I said, doubtfully.
“Well… we could just start by kissing. See how that goes.”
I thought about it. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt anything. Just to kiss.”
We sat there for a few seconds. Then my brother moved a little closer to me. “Turn your head my way.”
George licked his lips and leaned closer. He closed his eyes. I did the same. Moments later I felt a silky smooth sensation as his mouth brushed against mine. A little shiver went through my young body at the contact.
George sat back and we both opened our eyes. He smiled a little. “That was nice.”
“You wanna do it some more?”
George and I leaned into each other again and started kissing some more. This time we kept our lips together longer, like people in movies did. It was very nice! It got even nicer at one point when I felt my brother’s tongue licking along my lips.
That felt so good I wound up licking his lips, too, and the next thing I knew, our tongues were dancing against each other. It was really nice! It was giving me a really strange sensation between my legs that I didn’t mind one bit!
That first time my brother and I kissed each other for probably a good fifteen minutes. Every day for the next week we kept doing it, spending more and more time kissing. By Friday we were at it for over an hour, and enjoying every second of it!
We didn’t go past kissing. At least not at that point. Later, however…
* * *
I’m snapped out of my memories by the sound of the phone ringing. I pick it up. It’s my oldest son, Matthew, on the other end. He turned 50 just last week. Still strange to think that I have a son that old.
“Are you doing ok, mom?”
“Yes, dear, I’m fine.”
“You’re flying out for the funeral, of course?”
“Yes. I leave day after tomorrow.”
“Good. When do you first hit the mainland? I’ll meet you at the airport and fly with you to JFK.”
I laugh. “Matthew, I’m an adult now. I think it’s time for me to start flying by myself.”
My son laughs in return. “Yeah, I know, Mom. But you’re also getting older.”
“Seventy-one isn’t that old.”
I picture Matthew throwing his hands in the air. “Ok, Mom. You win.”
“Always do, dear.”
“Oh, Jenny and I will be taking care of getting grandma here. You won’t need to worry about that.”
I feel vaguely embarrassed. I’d completely forgotten about my mother in all this. She turns ninety-five later this month and lives in a nursing home in upstate New York. I haven’t visited her in years. She has Alzheimer’s, too. I knew this would probably be the last time I’d see her alive.
“Thank you, dear,” I tell my son.
We make small talk for another hour or so. Mostly talking about his family. We don’t talk about George too much. There’ll be time for that later. Finally, as the sun starts setting, the conversation winds down. My son and I make our farewells to each other.
I turn on KUAM and watch some TV, letting my mind wander, once again, back to the past…
* * *
Eight days of kissing with George went by. I was enjoying it more and more and really looking forward to our little get-togethers. That it might’ve been wrong to do these things with him because he was my brother never really crossed my mind. Why would it? It was 1945. We weren’t exactly told extensively about sex in general, much less incest.
This day we were laying on my bed as we kissed. We’d started doing that on the sixth day. It was a lot more comfortable, especially given how long we were necking each time. Plus it just felt… better… somehow… to be doing it in bed.
Plus laying down made it easier to hug each other tight and kiss at the same time. The feeling of George’s body against mine as we laid on my bed was really wonderful. I was beginning to understand why adults liked to kiss so much!
At one point during our kissing, George pulled his mouth away from mine. “Hey, Lizzie?”
“You wanna take off our shirts? Try it that way?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Why?”
“Well…” I could see him thinking. Finally he shrugged. “Why not?”
“Well… I don’t think I’m supposed to have my shirt off in front of boys,” I tried.
“You’re also not supposed to be kissing boys.”
“So? Look, I’ll take mine off first.” True to his word, George sat up and removed his shirt. I’d seen him without one before so it really wasn’t anything special, but for some reason seeing him like that now put a little thrill through me.
Feeling a little shy, but also kind of excited, I took my shirt off, exposing my still almost completely flat chest to my brother’s eyes. I was a little embarrassed at first, but when he smiled and put his arms around me, pulling my bare chest to his as we began kissing, my embarrassment fell away and was replaced with total happiness.
“Mmm…” my brother whispered between kisses. “This is real nice…”
“Yeah…” On an impulse I dipped my head down a little and kissed one of my brother’s nipples.
He jumped a little. “Why did you do that?”
“I don’t know,” I confessed. “Did you like it?”
“Yeah, it was pretty neat.”
“Can I kiss you like that?”
My brother dipped his head down and I felt a little jolt of electricity go through me as his lips brushed against my nipple. I let out a small gasp of pure pleasure as he kisses the other one, and then kisses each one again. Oh, it was heavenly!
“Do you like that?” George asked.
“Ok.” He went back to kissing them, and at one point starting sucking on one of my nipples, almost little a little baby. No milk came out, of course, but waves of total bliss washed out all over my body.
As he did this, I also became aware of a building pleasure between my legs. I hadn’t ever really thought about my vagina before. I knew what it was, and what it was for, my mother had told me everything, but until just recently it was just something that was THERE. Now it was starting to make itself noticed.
George then moves his mouth off my nipples and starts kissing me on the mouth again. I close my eyes and let his lips and tongue play against mine, knowing that something really wonderful had happened today and wondering where it was going to lead.
* * *
The next morning I hail a cab. I’ve got all my things packed, and it’s time to head to the airport. I had hardly slept a wink and now I was very tired. Knowing I’d be able to sleep on the plane helped, though.
The cab driver, a not-unattractive Filipino, doesn’t make conversation as we drive. I’m mostly happy about that, but it might be nice to have someone to talk with. I’m missing George terribly, even though I haven’t seen him in a long while.
I look out the window, watching the scenery go by. I’d ended up on Guam in 1964, when my late husband had been transferred to Anderson AFB. By trade, I’m an ornithologist. A pro-bird watcher, essentially. Birds, however, are not abundant on Guam, most of the native species having been eaten by transplanted snakes.
But I’d loved the island despite it’s lack of avian-based excitement. When Frankie had died in a plane crash in 1969 I’d thought about returning to the mainland, but I liked it here too much. So instead I became a teacher.
We pull up to the airport Hagatna. I pay the driver and give him a not indecent tip. I grab my two bags and head into the terminal, walking up to the Continental Airlines window.
“Good morning… Ms Avery?” Says the rather surprised looking young girl behind the counter.
I blink, and it takes me a moment to recognize her. “Alicia Browne! Why I haven’t seen you in ages!” I smile. Speaking of my teaching career, she’d been one of my favorite students.
Alicia smiles back. “I know, it’s been so long!” She looks at my tickets. “Oh, traveling back to the mainland? I hope not for too long!”
I shake my head. “No, there’s just… well, my brother’s passed, you see.”
Her face falls. “Oh… I’m so sorry! Were you close?”
She shakes her head. “Manuel… that’s my husband… he’s off in Iraq right now. I worry about him all the time.”
I pat her on the hand. “I hope he’ll be ok.”
She smiles again. “I hope so. I don’t want to be a single mother.”
I laugh, in spite of my grief. “Married with child? Where does the time go?”
“With CHILDREN, Ms Avery!”
I laugh again, and then start to notice the line forming. “Well, Alicia, I’ll tell you what. When I get back, let’s go have lunch or something. You were always one of my favorites.”
“Absolutely! I can’t wait.” She gives me all my tickets and checks my bags. “Have a good flight. I’ll light a candle for you.”
“Thank you, dear.”
I walk to the gate, feeling strangely buoyed after my conversation with Alicia, and thinking once again about George. A very close relationship, indeed…
* * *
Ten days went past since my brother and I started kissing each other without our shirts on. It was still the pinnacle of our relationship. Most of the time we’d kiss and take turns sucking on each other’s nipples for a while. More often than not, it was him sucking mine. We’d both discovered I liked it a little more than he did.
I’d also noticed that every time we kissed like this, especially when we were shirtless and sucking on each other, my vagina got very, very wet. I wasn’t sure why, or what it meant, but it felt good.
“You wanna try something else, Lizzie?” George asked.
“Well… we could take off some more clothes. Like get down to our underwear, maybe? I mean, it feels nice without shirts, so maybe it will feel nice nice in just underwear, you know?”
We started kissing again as I thought about it. On the one had, I knew that, just like with taking off my shirt, it would be a big step. But on the other hand, George was right. Everything so far had felt wonderful. I made up my mind.
The two of us sat up and, surprisingly, faced away from each other as we stood. I pulled my skit down and off, along with my socks, and then laid down on the bed again, now clad only in a pair of white cotton panties.
Looking up, I saw my brother as he got back onto the bed with me. He was wearing only a pair of white boxers. I could see something inside them. It looked like it was pointing upward. Obviously it was my brother’s penis. A small tremor of excitement went through me at the sight.
Wordlessly, George and I started kissing again. We began just by laying side-by-side as we kissed, with our bodies a far distance apart. We started to move closer and closer together, though, discovering as we did so that the more our bare skin came into contact, the better it was.
Eventually I found myself laying on my back, with my brother on top of me as we kissed. My legs were spread and he was between them. At the time, I wasn’t aware this was a primary position for intercourse; I just knew that it felt really nice having him on me like this.
As we kissed, I was also aware of his cloth-covered penis rubbing against my vagina. Each time he moved, it sent little blasts of pleasure through my pre-teen body. When our mother had talked to us about sex, and how babies were made, she hadn’t said anything about it feeling good, but I was starting to think that it might.
I put my arms around my brother and held him tight. “This is really nice,” I said.
“Yeah, it’s neat!” He moved a little.
I giggled and moaned a bit. “That’s real nice… when you move like that I can feel your… you know… YOU… against me… down there.” I blushed.
“When I do this?” George moved his hips, his penis rubbing right against the top of my vagina.
“Oh… yes…” I moaned and spread my legs wider, bringing more him into contact with me.
“You want me to keep doing it?”
As George continued to move his body on top of mine, I responded by moaning a little more, and let my hands drift down until they were resting on his butt. It was interesting feeling the muscles move under the fabric of his boxers.
George moved aside after a bit and placed a hand on my thigh, moving it back and forth gently. “You’ve got such soft skin.”
He began tracing little circles on the skin of my inner thigh. It felt absolutely wonderful. Not as great as when he’d been on top of me, but nice enough, and it got even better when he started kissing and sucking my nipples as he did it. Fireworks went off in my brain when he started doing that!
Just when I thought we’d reached the pinnacle of what could feel good, George brushed his fingers against my panties, right against where his hard penis had been rubbing before. I let out a gasp of pure delight at the contact.
My brother looked at me. “Did you like that?”
He placed his fingers back on that spot and rubbed them around a little. “Like this?”
I closed my eyes and lost myself to bliss as my brother’s fingers worked on my vagina through my panties. It was so intense and incredibly wonderful! If Heaven existed, it must’ve felt like this all the time!
Suddenly the pleasure between my legs, which had been growing with each passing second, reached a crescendo. I moaned loudly and felt my vagina contact repeatedly. I felt like I was passing out with joy, it felt so good. I’d never known anything like it, and I knew I’d want to have that feeling again and again.
“Wow,” George said, looking down at me as I recovered from my experience. “What was that?”
“I don’t… I don’t know…” I gasped. “But I liked it…”
“Your panties are kind of damp.”
I sat up a little and looked at them. Sure enough there was a wet spot. “I wonder why.”
“You didn’t…?” He left the question mostly unasked.
I shook my head. “No, I don’t know what it’s from.”
He leaned down and kissed me again. We held each other tight, savoring the moments after what we’d done.
* * *
The plane lands in Tokyo several hours later. My connecting flight doesn’t leave for another seven hours. I go through customs and head out of the airport. I’ve been in Tokyo many times (who on Guam hasn’t?), but it’s always different every time I come here.
I take a cab out into Tokyo proper. I had about three hours before I had to be back on the plane and I wanted to at least stretch my legs a little before the very LONG flight ahead of me to Los Angeles.
As I walk through the streets, I breathe in the life around me. I see Salary men on their way home from work, I see schoolgirls in their sailor-type outfits, I see young punks, trying to look quite tough, but killing the effect by having pink Mohawks. All around me, there’s life and excitement.
Feeling hungry, I look for somewhere to eat, and chuckle a little when I see a McDonald’s. Well, why not? I walk inside and, with my rudimentary Japanese, I place an order for a burger, fries and a Coke. Not much, and certainly not as good as first class airline food, but it’ll do.
The restaurant is very, very crowded. After looking, I find an empty seat at a table across from two women about my age. I ask if I can sit, and they make room.
As I eat, I look at the two women. I wonder where they were in 1945. What their lives were like then. What happened to their fathers, and their brothers? Were they in the war? I’ve talked with some Japanese people on Guam about what life was like for them during the war, but I wasn’t about to strike a conversation about it now.
1945… what an amazing year that had been for me… especially that wonderful summer…
* * *
We slowly reached the end of July. George and I had developed a new habit. We’d kiss for a while, and then suck each other’s nipples for a while. Then he’d lay next to me and rub my vagina through my panties until I got that good feeling again. It was a REAL nice way to pass time!
Today we were doing it on George’s bed. 90% of the time we were on mine, but today we’d decided to get onto his. It wasn’t as big as it wasn’t as nice, but, well, it was nice to have a bit of change.
It was kind of strange, really. Getting together like this had become most of what we did with our free time. We hardly ever saw our friends anymore. Two, and once even three, times a day we got together and kissed and touched each other. It was really nice!
Currently we were at that state where he was sucking on my nipples while rubbing at my vagina through my panties. As usual, it was making me really happy! Like always I had my eyes closed as was losing myself in the pleasure.
Then I became aware of my brother’s fingers slipping under the fabric of my panties. He was up at the top, and he only slid them in for a moment. It felt nice having his fingers against my bare skin, though, proving our earlier belief that naked skin is better.
Suddenly a whole new world of pleasure opened it’s door for me as my brother’s fingers drifted lower and lower, brushing against a stop right above the entrance to my vagina. It was a little knob like thing there. I didn’t know what it was called, but I knew it felt incredible having him touch it.
“Is something wrong?” George asked, looking up at me with concern on his face.
“No… oh… no… oh, that’s… that’s so wonderful…”
“It is?” he asked, rubbing his fingers around my vagina with more confidence.
“Oh… oh, god… yes… oh, it’s wonderful…”
After moments passed, my brother’s fingers roaming all over my vagina. Then he said, “Can I take off your panties? They’re in the way.”
“Ok…” I whispered, no hesitation, trusting George completely.
My brother hooked his fingers into my panties and slowly pulled them down and off me. Then he sat back on his knees and looked down at my naked, pre-teen body.
“Wow… you look so amazing, Lizzie…”
“Thanks,” I said, blushing a little. I would have thought it would feel strange being nude in front of my older brother, but I only felt anticipation of good feelings yet to come.
George settled back between my legs, his fingers brushing along my slit. I trembled as he explored my privates. Just as I thought it wouldn’t ever get better than it was already, one of his probing fingers found the entrance to my vagina and slowly began to slide inside.
“Gee, Lizzie…” George whispered as his finger sank into my body. “Is this…?”
“Does it feel good?”
I thought for a second. “George…?”
“If you stop, I’ll kill you.”
George laughed. His finger moved back and forth inside my vagina. “Ok, I won’t stop.”
As he kept fingering me, my brother moved his mouth back down to my nipples, sucking and kissing each one in turn as his finger moved around inside my vagina. It was so intense, I thought I might pass out.
Then that wave of pleasure I was waiting for hit me. I know now, of course, that it was an orgasm. All the times I’d felt this before were, too, but this was the best of the bunch, no question. The orgasm I’d remember my entire life.
“Wow, Lizzie, that was neat!” George enthused as I came back down from Heaven. “I could feel you squeezing my finger when that happened.”
“Great,” I said, a little wrung out from the experience.
* * *
“Hmmm?” I say, sitting up suddenly, dreams of my brother fading into the light of wakefulness.
“I said we’re about to land, Ms Avery. You’ll need to put your seat up.” The stewardess- flight attendant- smiled at me.
“Of course,” I say, feeling slightly embarrassed. Sleeping through intercom announcements was something old women did, and I am only an old woman when it suits me.
By the time the plane lands and I get off, make my way through customs, and out into LAX proper, I’m feeling exhausted. I have another two hours before my flight to New York, and from there an hour long drive until I’d be at my son’s house. Yes, he would be picking me up and driving me, but it still meant it’d be another several hours before I’d get any real rest from traveling.
I spend my two hours in LAX just wandering around the airport. Never too far from my gate. Never pass the security zone. I hate going through those. Eventually my flight arrived, and I get on, heading to JFK.
My son meets met at the airport. I want to complain at him, I want to say that I planned to rent a car and drive to his house, but I’m frankly too tired. I manage to get my luggage and stagger with him out to his car.
Once we get to Matthew’s house I follow him inside, say hello to my grandchildren and, with my body completely exhausted at this point, go upstairs to the guest room where I change and fall into bed, asleep almost before I hit the mattress.
* * *
Only two days went by before George and I did something else new. We were laying in my bed this time, kissing while my brother worked his finger in and out of my vagina. As usual I was blissed out beyond belief.
Then George started moving his face down, kissing my neck and nipples. I thought he might stop there, but then he began kissing a path further down. Just as I was wondering what was going on, I felt his tongue brush against that small spot right above the entrance to my vagina.
All the bombs dropped on Dresden a few months ago, all the soldiers landing on Omaha Beach, all the ships in the Navy… none of that could have created a feeling more intense inside my body than that caused by my brother’s tongue rasping back and forth on that most sensitive part of my young body.
By the time I came down from the high of orgasm, my brother had moved his body up so that he was laying on top of his, his hard penis still inside his boxers, but nevertheless poking against my still twitching vagina.
“How was that?” he asked, moving his hips slowly, rubbing against me.
“It… oh, George…” I leaned up and kissed him, holding him tight against my naked body.
“So I guess you liked it, then?” he asked with a grin.
“Yeah… how did you think of that?”
“Jack told me about it.”
“Oh, ok.” Jack seemed to know everything. After all, it was because of him that we got started on this little journey.
We laid there, holding each other for a couple moments, him resting on top of me as we kissed. Then I said, “George?”
I bit my lower lip a little. “Would you… can I see… will you take off your boxers?”
Blinking, he said, “You want me to take them off?”
“Well, yes. I mean, I’m naked, and it feels good for me. So you should be naked, too, so that it’ll feel good for you.”
“Oh. Well, ok.” George got up for a moment, hooked his fingers into his boxers, bent down, and when he stood up was gloriously nude. And there it was. Standing tall between his legs, under just a small bit of pubic hair. My brother’s very hard penis.
At the time it seemed huge to my eleven-year-old eyes. It was about four inches long, and not very thick, but thick enough. I wondered how something like that could possibly fit inside my vagina. Well, not MINE, specifically, but any vagina, cause I assumed that most any would be like mine.
“Do I look alright?” George asked after a moment, blushing as he did so.
“Yeah, you look wonderful.”
“Good,” he said with a shy smile, laying back down on the bed with me. “Gee, it’s neat being naked with you, Lizzie.”
“Yeah, I like it, too.”
We kissed. Now totally naked together, it felt different from how it had before, even though only our lips were touching.
Looking down at my brother’s penis, I broke the kiss long enough to say, “Can I touch it?”
I shyly reached out and let my fingers run along the shaft of my brother’s penis. It was warm and smooth. I wrapped my hand around it, feeling the softness of the skin.
“Rub it back and forth,” George whispered.
“Like this?” I said, giving his penis a couple tugs.
“Ohhh… yeah… like that…”
“What’s this?” I asked, rubbing my thumb in a sticky clear fluid that was oozing from the tip of my brother’s penis.
“Ah… oh… I don’t know… it doesn’t seem to do anything.”
I thought about it as I played with George’s penis. “You know how my vagina gets wet?”
“Maybe this is the same thing.” I rubbed the fluid all over the tip of my brother’s penis.
“Oh, god…” He moaned and closed his eyes. “Yeah… maybe…”
Remembering the good sensations caused by my brother’s tongue on my vagina, I started wondering what it would be like for him if I licked his penis. So I did so.
As soon as my tongue made contact on my brother’s penis, I knew I was on the right path. He began moaning and squirming, much like I had been all these times when he’d been pleasuring me.
Then I got the shock of my young life as my brother’s penis began twitching and bucking in my hand. I pulled my face away just in time to see several spurts of viscous white fluid shoot out of the tip, spattering onto George’s naked body.
I looked up at my brother’s face, confused as to what had just happened. The expression he was wearing told me everything I needed to know. Whatever the boy version of the feelings I had when my brother was working on my vagina must’ve just happened to him. I felt happy, knowing I’d made him feel good.
As my brother descended down from the world of bliss, I laid my naked body on top of his. I’d often wondered, when we’d kissed before, if it would be nice to be on top. Now I was, and since we were naked, I could now feel my brother’s bare penis resting up against my exposed vagina, his fluid between our young bodies.
George opened his mouth to say something, but then we heard the sound of our mother outside talking with one of our neighbors. We looked at each other, startled, then quickly leapt off the bed and got dressed. By the time she walked in moments later we were sitting there listening to “The Lone Ranger” on the radio. She was none the wiser.
* * *
Two days go by. I spend much of it sleeping, readjusting my body clock to life on the mainland. Then I spend some time reconnecting with my son and his family, including his oldest son, George, who is now fifteen and almost a dead ringer for my brother at that age.
On my fourth day in New York we have the funeral. My mother is there. She’s very old now, and wheelchair bound. She has a nurse who takes care of her full-time. Matthew and his family visit her often, but, as mentioned before, she’s in the last stages of Alzheimer’s, and barely recognizes anyone at all.
The funeral is a sombre, subdued affair. Not like my brother at all. He was always full of life, even if he was a little geeky, as the kids say today. Eggheads, we called them back in my day.
I manage to make it through most of the funeral, but when George’s coffin is lowered into the fertile ground of upstate New York, I feel overwhelmed. I am happy I’m sitting, because if not I would’ve surely fallen as a wave of grief washes over me. Matthew puts his arms around me and holds me tight as the tears fall.
Then an hour later we’re at a reception. Whereas the funerals in our family are a time for grief, the receptions are a time for joy. George had been a very popular man, and the place is crowded. Old childhood friends, people I’d known throughout the years, come up to me and we talk. We mostly talk about George.
His former coworkers stand up and give speeches about him. George had been a lawyer for several years. He’d wanted to become Attorney General for New York State, but instead he’d set up a private practice as a defense lawyer.
Then when he’d turned fifty-five, George had left his profession. He began working as head of two different charities. People from both those stages of his life, as well as his friends from Yale, and even the governor of New York stood up to give speeches.
I wanted to, also. I really did. But there was nothing I could think of to say. The most important parts of my life with my brother were as extremely private as anything could be. And all of the best memories centered around the summer of 1945.
* * *
Now it was August 6th. Though my brother and I didn’t know it yet, a major event had happened in Japan. An atomic bomb, something most of the world outside of Los Alamos had never even heard of, had been dropped on the city of Hiroshima. A few days later another would drop on Nagasaki, though we didn’t know that yet, either.
And frankly, to George and I, none of this would have mattered even if we did know. Oh, we would’ve been happy. We would’ve cheered about the Japs finally being paid back in full for Pearl Harbor. But as soon as we were done hearing the news, we would’ve just gotten naked and into bed together.
And on August 6th, not long before the new broke to the world, my brother and I were laying on his bed, naked, and cuddling together He had two fingers buried inside my vagina and my hand was rubbing his penis. We were both totally comfortable and very happy with each other.
As we kissed, we rolled over, our hands leaving each other’s genitals and wrapping around our bodies. I felt so happy doing this with George. Warm and safe and content. I loved him so much.
“I love you,” I whispered to my brother.
“I love you, too, Lizzie,” he whispered back as we kissed some more.
While we kissed, my brother’s penis was rubbing against that sensitive spot right above my vagina. It gave me a feeling I really enjoyed. Anything involving his penis rubbing against any part of my vagina was something I liked.
I knew what I wanted to do at this point. I wanted to have my brother’s penis inside me. I’d thought about it a lot over the last two weeks or so. I couldn’t see any reason not to do it. His finger had felt good when it was inside me, and he loved having my hand rubbing him. So that meant that if his erection was inside my vagina it would feel great for us both.
Reaching behind me, I took my brother’s penis in my hand and sat up a little, positioning my vagina right over it.
“Lizzie?” George whispered, sounding confused.
“I want to see what it’s like,” I said, my throat a little dry. “I want to have it inside me.”
He swallowed. “Are you sure?”
Nodding, my brother said, “Alright.”
I rubbed the tip of my brother’s penis against the entrance to my vagina, getting myself used to having him there. Then I said, “Alright, are you ready?”
Taking a deep breath, I bore downward. At first I didn’t think anything was going to happen, but I did feel a strange pressure between my legs. Then, rather suddenly, I felt the sensation of something entering my body as my brother’s fourteen-year-old virgin penis began to enter my eleven-year-old virgin vagina.
I began feeling stretched as I went down a little lower. I bit my lip as a little pain hit me. Then I went down further until I felt the tangle of George’s pubic hair against my bare vagina. Looking down, I saw nothing but that between both our legs. He was all the way inside me.
“Oh, gee, Lizzie…” he whispered. “I wanted this so long.”
“You did?” I gasped.
I lifted myself up a little, feeling my brother’s penis move within my body. When I lowered down, I got a really nice sensation that seemed to travel from where our bodies joined up through my head and out into the world. It was spectacular!
My brother placed his hands on my thighs as I continued to ride his penis, lost in a world of pleasure. I wondered if other kids did this. If they didn’t, I wondered why not. It was so great!
Then George began to grunt under me. I felt him push up and deeper inside me as his penis began kicking inside my vagina. I knew he was spurting his fluid into me. I was so happy knowing that I’d made him feel good!
I didn’t feel the good, super wonderful feeling I normally felt when he fingered me, but it still was great for me! I pulled off my brother and laid down on the bed next to him, holding him tight, happy we’d done what did.
* * *
Now I’m home. It seems the same as it did a week ago, when I first heard that George had died. It still was the same, I knew that. But I also knew that my brother was gone, and I’d never see him again.
I get myself something to drink and start unpacking, thinking about that first time we made love. It was far from the last. That first day, my brother and I had intercourse three times. We managed five the next day. After that we lost track quickly. We did manage to get him inside me every day, though, even once school started.
Of course, as we got older we stopped doing it. Eventually we found out I could get pregnant from him, and when I was fourteen and he was seventeen, that’s exactly what happened. Before I could figure out what to do about it, I miscarried. We still made love after that, but not nearly as often.
And eventually we moved on in our lives. I fell in love with another boy, and George fell in love with another girl. Our relationship began to drift back to a standard brother/sister relationship just before he went to college.
I finish my unpacking and walk out onto the patio, looking out at the ocean, watching a container ship in the distance. I smile slightly. No, George wasn’t gone, not really. He’d be with me forever.
In my memories.
Copyright 2006 by Alex Hawk, all rights reserved.
So after a nice little dry spell, I’m back! Hope you lot think it was worth the wait. If you don’t, then you’re ungrateful pigs and deserve to be, oh, I don’t know, flogged or something.