Wednesday, November 21st 2012 – Chicago, Illinois, U.S.A.
"I want you to be very careful what you say to your sister Katrina when she gets home," mom instructed. Dad looked up from his paper.
"Careful in exactly what way?" I asked back.
"She's broken up with Philip," mom answered.
"Yes!" my little sister Anna shouted as she threw her left arm up into the air.
"Finally!" I said happily as I looked over at dad. A small grin had appeared on his lips.
"Not one word! From any of you. And that includes you Charles Williams," mom ordered.
"I didn't say a word," dad protested. No one in the family had ever really liked Katrina's beau. And that included mom.
"When did she dump the jerk anyway?" Anna asked. At fifteen sis wasn't worried about the niceties.
"She didn't really say. There might have been another girl involved," mom said tentatively as she glanced over at her younger daughter, clearly unsure what she should tell her fifteen year old.
"I told you he was an idiot! That just proves everything I ever said about that--" I left off the 'asshole' but everyone in the room was able to complete the sentence.
But it was Anna who delivered the best line. "It couldn't have been for another girl, I don't think that weirdo even likes girls," she said. An opinion I'd held since the first time I'd seen the wimpy looking, beret wearing Philip Danson.
"She was crying when I talked to her on the phone so I don't want any of you to say one word," mom ordered.
That prick had made my big sister cry? I was boiling inside. If Philip had been in the room at that instant he just might never have left it.
Katrina Astrid Williams, twenty-one years old and a junior at Carleton College in Minneapolis, a blond who put lie to every dumb blond joke ever written, a lovely girl who was as nice as she was beautiful, was due home the next day for Thanksgiving weekend with the family.
And I, her eighteen year old brother, had been eagerly awaiting her return from school for weeks. I was in love with her! Always have been. And I'm pretty sure I always will be. In every possible way! In ways I shouldn't be. And Katrina didn't have a clue about my real feelings.
I was just the little brother. Cute maybe but also a pest!
Thanksgiving Day - Dinner
It was just after four in the afternoon when Katrina arrived home the next day – she'd caught a drive from a friend at school who also lived in Chicago. After a more than four hundred mile trip, sis looked pretty bedraggled as she trooped through the front door.
"Honey," dad said happily as he engulfed his eldest daughter in his arms. The hug seemed to last minutes and when dad finally released her we could all see the tears running down Katrina's cheeks. For seconds none of us knew what to say. I think all four of us were stunned; Katrina had always been the strong one in the family.
"So," I finally ventured as I held out my arms, "you don't have a hug for your favorite brother?" Then, without giving her a chance to say a word, I wrapped my arms around her. A second later mom and Anna and dad had joined us in a family hug.
I knew my sister was crying as I held her, heck I could feel her chest heaving. But even as I held her in my arms I couldn't help but think of her breasts, even though covered with a bra, a shirt and a sweater, that were pressing into my chest. My nose, buried in her blond curls, inhaled the intoxicating scent that was Katrina. She was home! My big sister was crying but I was happy!
Thanksgiving dinner at the Williams, even with one member clearly hurting, was always a loud, happy, raucous family affair. Jokes and laughter and an endless repeating of old family stories as we all waded through the mountains of food. Looking at us, all relatively trim, would have made anyone wonder where all the food was going to.
And Kat, although mostly quiet during the meal, a spectator more than a participant, still graced us throughout with shy smiles and grins. Sad grins that near broke my heart. And although sis had tried to valiantly hold up her end during the dinner, as soon as the desert dishes had been cleared just after seven, Katrina fled to her room.
"Should I go up?" dad asked.
"I'll go," Anna offered.
"She's tired," mom cautioned, "maybe it's best to let her rest for a while."
So dad and I settled down on the couch in the den – then watched a bit of the College football game before switching to the NFL at just after eight. Mind you I couldn't keep my mind on the Jets-Patriots matchup, instead I was thinking about my sister upstairs.
I hated to see Katrina sad but at the same time I'd immediately recognized the opportunity. And I knew that if I didn't act soon I'd never act. I'd never have the courage to let her know the real feelings I had for her. The incestuous feelings!
Anna split almost as soon as she and mom had finished cleaning up the kitchen – she was spending the night at one of her friends. A Thanksgiving night sleepover for five or six fifteen year olds! I pitied her hosts; dad and I had suffered a similar fate a couple of months earlier. And worse still was the fact that the fifteen year olds were planning on waking up by three in the morning and then trouping out on a Black Friday buying spree.
Mom didn't reappear in the den til just before ten. She'd been up to see Kat. "She had a nap. She's feeling better now. We talked a bit," she told dad and I as soon as she'd settled herself down on the couch between us.
"I'll go up later," I offered casually. "Maybe she'll want to watch a flic or something."
"Would you?" mom asked hopefully. I nodded. "Just make sure you don't mention Philip," mom cautioned some minutes later when I lifted myself up off the couch and told her I might as well go up.
"I'll look in later," she answered as she snuggled up against dad. Perfect I thought to myself as I slowly climbed the stairs. My mind was racing. Planning. Plotting. Thinking. Wondering. Was this the 'now or never' moment?
I knocked again. I was standing in front of Katrina's bedroom door. I'd just showered and shaved. Slapped on deodorant and after shave. All I had on was a tee shirt and sweat pants. It was ten-thirty. Dad and mom were still downstairs in the den.
"Who is it?" A barked out demand. I simply waited without replying. I knew my sister's curiosity would eventually get the better of her. I knew her weaknesses.
"Anna?" she finally asked. No answer. "Mom?" again sis received no answer. A second later the door was pulled open. "Oh it's you. What do you want?" she demanded when she saw me.
"Forget it, you probably wouldn't be able to help me anyway," I answered and then started to turn away.
I'd taken only three steps before her peremptory command rang out. "Robert, you come back here!" So I did. "What do you want anyway?" she then asked as I slipped past her into her bedroom and sat down on her bed.
I was still trying to figure out my best course of action when she added, "And I don't want to hear one question about Philip. Not one! Do you understand?" Her words had given me my opening.
"Hah! It's always about you isn't it? Always about Katrina! Even though you're the smart, beautiful one. The favorite," I accused angrily. Perhaps the least fair thing I'd ever said to sis. I hated starting that way but I knew that I had to get her out of her funk and fast. "If Anna was just a little older I'd ask her. She'd help."
"Me! I'm the favorite? Since when? And ask Anna about what?"
"I can't tell mom. She'd have a fit. I was hoping that maybe you'd help me but I should have known better." I knew Katrina wouldn't be able to refuse the bait.
"I've always been there for you," sis answered, a hurt look on her face. "Is something wrong? Why can't you tell mom? What is it?"
"You've got your own problems ... I shouldn't have bothered you ... sorry," I answered as I started to stand up.
"You're not going anywhere. Now talk," she ordered as she pushed me back down. A second later she'd grabbed her computer chair and had plopped herself down on it facing me.
"What do you think of Sarah?" I asked once she'd settled herself. "I mean really think of her." Sarah was my current girlfriend.
"Why?" I said nothing. "Are you two having problems?" I could see that Katrina had totally forgotten Philip. I still didn't answer. "She's not pregnant is she?"
Jesus! Pregnant? That was better than I'd hoped for! I shook my head no in answer. "Of course not! It's something else."
"You can't tell anyone ... not mom, not dad, not--"
"Tell them what?"
"Okay, okay, okay, I promise," sis finally conceded.
"Cross your heart," I demanded. Glaring, she quickly crossed her heart.
"It's sorta weird," I started.
"What is?" Katrina demanded when I didn't immediately go on.
"You might get mad at me ... maybe I shouldn't--"
"WHAT ... IS ... IT!" Katrina, although she could be as kind as anyone, and had been to me the whole time I'd been growing up, also could be impatient with someone who didn't get to the point. Which of course I knew.
"Well, do you like Sarah?" I asked again.
I could see for just a second Katrina wasn't one hundred percent sure how to answer. She clearly didn't want to commit herself before she knew where I was going. "She's not a blond," she finally offered with a smile, restating an old running family joke.
No one was as blond as the Williams. We were all blonds! Light haired blonds. Mom and all us kids anyway. A golden hair color inherited from mom's Swedish ancestors. My mom, first name Ingrid, and born a Pederson, had grown up on a farm in Wisconsin. She was the daughter of Svend Pedersen and Astrid Olsen, dairy farmers whose parents had immigrated to America in the nineteen twenties. I'd inherited Svend as my middle name while Katrina had gotten Astrid as hers. We'd inherited our blondness from generations of Olsens and Pedersens.
Even dad, of Scottish stock, was light skinned and light haired, a sandy red, clearly some Viking raider hundreds of years ago had injected some Scandinavian genes into a highland lass.
All our lives we'd been subject to blond jokes and had responded in kind. An inside family joke had always been we 'blonds' against the world.
So I chuckled dutifully in acknowledgement of Katrina's blond line and then asked, "And what do you think of Mrs. Thompson?"
For a second sis looked confused but then asked, "Sarah's mom?"
I figured it was time to ratchet up the conversation, to give my sister a little shock. "She hit on me," I said, then quickly looked down shyly.
It took a few seconds for my words to register. Then, as comprehension dawned, a shocked look appeared on her face. "Mrs. Thompson hit on you? Like ... like ... sexually?" she finally stammered. I nodded. "Her daughter's boyfriend?"
"Emily has needs," I said softly.
"Emily? Who the fuck is Emily?' sis demanded. My sister never uses swear words. In fact I don't think I'd ever heard her use the "f" word even once. Which demonstrated to me just how excited Katrina was. And how bad an influence Carleton College had been on her. She should never have gone up there.
"Mrs. Thompson, her names Emily--"
"What did she do?" A demand. An imperial demand in fact.
And so I told her. And it was a true story. Oh I glossed over some parts and embellished others but essentially what I told sis over the next ten minutes was true. Mrs. Emily Thompson, my girlfriend's mother, forty-two years old and with big tits, had hit on me. In fact she'd done a lot more than that! It had started slowly, just a slow, growing realization on my part that my girlfriend's mom was looking at me differently than she should.
It had come to a head early last summer. When I'd been up spending a week at the end of June with the Thompson family at their cottage on Lake Michigan just north of Sheboygan. School had just finished for the year.
"It was just little things at first. Maybe it even started before we got to the cottage, during May and June," I said shyly.
"What little things?"
I blushed. Looked down. "I don't know. Touches. Little smiles. Bumping into to me. You know ... her breasts," I stammered.
"She pushed her breasts into you?"
"I mean it wasn't obvious or anything. Just little things. Looks. Smiles. Words. I wasn't sure at first if--"
"What words? What did she say?" sis demanded as she interrupted.
"I don't know ... just words." I pretended to think for a minute. "Like one day when I was washing the dishes and she was drying ... after lunch. Sarah and her dad and sister were in the other room. I only had my bathing suit on ... no shirt."
"And?" Katrina encouraged when I didn't immediately add anything more. She was clearly interested in my story.
"It's embarrassing," I told my sister, then pretended I couldn't meet her eyes. "She said I had a good butt," I finally sputtered out. "Not exactly those words but something like that. Then she said my arms, my upper body looked great. She ran her fingers over my biceps. Then touched my bum."
"She touched your bum?" Sis was outraged. "What a slut!"
"That was all she did that time but ... and then the next day."
"What happened the next day?"
"She showed me her breasts ... her nipples."
"She what?" Kat was clearly flabbergasted by my recital. She jumped at least six inches out of her chair when she heard the word nipples.
"She asked me to put suntan oil on her back. We were on the beach. Lying on towels. Sarah and her sister were swimming in the lake. Her dad was in town. She told me to undo the strap of her top before I started. And then when I started to rub the oil she sat up a bit. 'On the sides too', she ordered, I saw the whole side of her breast, then her nipple. Then when I started to oil her side she turned so that my fingers touched her breast. I tried to pull back ... I didn't know what was going on ... I was worried Sarah might come back any time. When I looked up to check, Emily, I mean Mrs. Thompson, grabbed my hand." I was shaking my head as I told Katrina my tale.
"But she's married!" sis protested.
"The next day was worse," I promised ominously.
"Worse than that? What happened?" Katrina might have been angry at Mrs. T but she was certainly curious to hear all the details.
"Everyone was going to town except me that day. To visit some old aunt or someone. Then at the last minute Emily remembered that she just had to stay for some reason or another. I don't even know what she told them. I was down on the beach and all of a sudden she was there. In her bathing suit."
Katrina was on the edge of her chair. In fact so close that our knees were touching. "Did she want you to put the oil on her again?" Sis was clearly imagining the scene.
"She said she'd do me," I said softly. "Said she didn't want me to get a sunburn. She told me to lie down. On my back."
"She touched you?" I nodded. "Where?"
"She took her time. My shoulders. My chest. Then my legs. My calves and then she moved higher. She talked the whole time she was doing it."
"What'd she say?"
"Just things about my body. About my muscles. How I was so strong. Then she said she wished she was eighteen again. As she ran her palms over my thighs."
"Eighteen! She's over forty! Doesn't she have any shame?"
I ignored Kat's outburst. "Then she did my stomach. Slowly. She circled her fingers around and around. Each time they moved lower. Like caresses. I got excited."
"She didn't--" I nodded yes. "She touched you? Through your bathing suit?" Up til that second I don't think Katrina had thought it had gone beyond mere flirtation.
"She pulled my suit down."
"Ohhhh myyyy gawd!"
"I know. I didn't know what to do. I mean it was really weird."
"Then what happened?"
"My ... my thing ... it ... I had an erection ... I couldn't help it," I stammered out, clearly trying to let sis know how embarrassed I'd been. Actually, Mrs. T's pulling down of my shorts and grabbing my cock had been one of the most exciting things that had ever happened to me! "She kissed it," I added before Katrina could say anything else.
For seconds she simply mumbled out some incomprehensible words. Then finally asked semi coherently, "She performed oral sex on you?" I nodded. "In public?" I nodded again. "And you let her? You betrayed Sarah?" I looked away from sis's steely gaze.
"I know," I conceded, a guilty look on my face. "But what could I do?"
"Did you cum? Ejaculate?" she asked.
"I couldn't help myself. She was..."
"She was what?"
"She was able to..." Again I gave Katrina a sad, abashed look before continuing, " ... swallow ... to get all of me in her mouth."
"My cock. She swallowed it all." Kat started to mumble again. "Sarah can't. Can't get all of me in. She says I'm too big. No one's been able to before. But Mrs. T..."
"How many girls have you been with?" Outraged. Angry. "You're just a boy. Fuck!" sis was not happy. But Philip was definitely no longer at the top of her agenda. And she also now knew that her little brother was neither as young nor perhaps as small as she'd always assumed. Her cute little eighteen year old brother was a man? Part one of my plan had been a complete success.
"She was much better at it than Sarah," I started.
"Better? At--" Sis clearly didn't want to say the words but I was quite happy to wait her out. "—at blow jobs?" she finally finished. I nodded. "Isn't that fucking wonderful," my sweet sister muttered. "You know she should be put in jail don't you? That there are laws against things like that." Katrina clearly wasn't impressed with Mrs. Thompson's performance. Or mine for that matter. But I could see that Mrs. T was taking most of sis's blame. But then she asked, "It was only the one time wasn't it?" Sis could see the answer in my eyes even before I shook my head no.
"You didn't have real sex with her did you?"
I nodded. "The day before we left. On the beach. Outside."
"And where was your supposed girlfriend?"
"What could I do? I was at their cottage. I couldn't leave. I hated it," I told sis, a semi whine in my voice. In fact, although I'd been nervous as hell those few days at the cottage, worried about not only Sarah finding out but also about her dad, they'd also been extraordinarily exciting. I'd been living on the edge and I'd loved it.
"At dinner she'd twine her leg around mine. Run the bottom of her foot up my leg. And Sarah and her dad were right there."
"She's a pig!"
"You don't know how happy I was to get out of there," I told sis. A small lie. "I didn't know what to say to Sarah. I knew it'd kill her if she found out. And her mother was so--"
"So what?" she asked when I didn't continue.
"She likes it better." Katrina's eyes crunched up. "She made noises ... she was wild," I told my sister even as I remembered my afternoon on the beach with Mrs. Thompson. I'd never experienced anything like it before.
"Wild? Wild?" Kat looked ready to explode.
"She talked dirty. When we were doing it ... it was like a porn movie or something." Smoke was coming out of sis's ears. "She kept saying, 'fuck me baby ... fuck me with your big teenage cock. Give Sarah's mommy your big cock. Make mommy cum'. Things like that. What could I do?"
For the next five minutes Katrina bombarded me with questions and observations. I happily described my encounter in excruciatingly graphic detail. Sis was clearly pissed off but at the same time couldn't keep the prurient interest she was feeling out of her voice. She finally asked: "Did she try anything more when you got home?"
"I was up north. I didn't see either of them all summer. Sarah and I just texted, phoned ... but I was embarrassed. And worried Emily might tell her."
"What about when you got home in the fall? Did she start again?" I nodded. "You let her?"
"By then the other thing had happened. When I was up north. At work. The Jewish girl," I said quietly. Time to take it up a level!
"The Jewish girl? What Jewish girl?"
"Miriam. It was her birthday. She was twenty-three."
"You went out with a twenty-three year old?" Kat asked in a mystified tone.
"She was the barmaid. At Luigi's. Where I was bussing in July and August," I told Katrina. After my June vacation with the Thompsons I'd almost immediately started the summer job one of my uncles had gotten for me up north at a resort/bar in the summer resort town of Sturgeon Bay.
"Did you sleep with her?" Katrina certainly wanted to get to the gist of the story right away! But I wasn't going to go at her speed, instead I was going to lead her by the nose through every single, sexy detail.
"She's studying for her M.A. at Northwestern. In psychology. Dad's school."
"I know where dad went to school," Kat said impatiently.
"She was different. Strange. She had long, curly hair. Reddish brown," I added as I remembered the way Miriam's mass of curly hair had bounced on her shoulders as she'd walked. And I couldn't help remembering the matching triangle of thick, curly hair between her legs. Miriam hadn't been a shaver!
"She was always laughing. And her breasts were--" I left the sentence hanging.
"Her breasts were what?" Kat demanded. I answered by cupping my palms in front of me and then I slid them through the air in an imaginary tracing. A tracing that suggested very large breasts.
"She was fat?"
"Unh uh. Rubenesque," I denied with a smile.
"What, you're an art expert now? And why was this Rubenesque model sleeping with a boy anyway?" I could see that Katrina, though still curious, was clearly also getting impatient.
"We were all staying in the staff cabins behind the resort. She'd been living all summer with some guy from California. But then he left a couple of weeks before the end of the summer. They caught him screwing one of the guest's wives. That's why Miriam was alone on her birthday."
"So she decided to seduce some innocent boy? To cradle rob?"
"We just went for a drink. After our shift. We weren't planning anything. In a little bar in the town. We talked. Danced."
"You're not even supposed to be served ... you're too young," Katrina said huffily.
"Then she asked me if I was a virgin?"
"She asked you if you were a virgin?"
"Yeah, when we were dancing. I told her I was."
"You lied to her?"
"She said I was cute. That if she was sixteen again she she'd have been first in line."
"That's how old she said she thought I was. Which was bull. She knew I was eighteen. Anyway we danced a bit and then, when we'd finished our beers she suggested we go back to her place. She said that she had a birthday cake we could share. That maybe we could round up some of the others and have a party. She didn't want to be alone on her birthday."
"And of course my eighteen year old supposed virgin brother who's sleeping with his girlfriend's mother went," Katrina said sarcastically.
"It was her birthday!"
"And then what happened."
"Well when we got there Miriam opened a couple of beers and put the cake on the table. Then she went for a pee."
"And..." Kat encouraged when I didn't immediately continue. I was lost in the memory of what came next. An absolute total fucking surprise!
"She came out of the bathroom naked ... with nothing on."
"No way. You're lying, I do not believe it."
"It's true! I couldn't believe it either. I'd just thought we were going to hang out. Talk ... you know, listen to music. Maybe have a beer. And there she was. In her birthday suit!"
"You shoulda left. As soon as she came out with nothing on," sis pontificated.
"But it was her birthday! I couldn't just leave her there alone. Besides, you should have seen her."
"So you slept with her?"
Sleep with her! Jesus, that was putting it mildly. I'd been overwhelmed. Stunned as she'd engulfed me in her nudity.
"She near raped me," I told sis as the memories of that night continued to echo around my brain. "We did things that I'd never imagined ... I mean she took it and me to another level."
"What things?" Katrina wanted details.
Miriam Rosenberg had been a revelation for me. She loved sex. She hadn't been interested in any silly seduction games. And although I'd been chosen by her simply by chance, simply because I'd been handy on her birthday when she'd been alone and perhaps feeling sorry for herself, once she'd heard I was a virgin and then seen my penis, she set about enjoying herself.
While making sure that yours truly also enjoyed himself. Immensely!
"She said I had the most beautiful cock she'd ever seen."
"She said what?"
"She only said that the next morning. Then she put him in her mouth."
"But what did she do the night before?"
I tried to explain to Kat what we'd done but it was near impossible to describe the total passion Miriam and I had shared. The animal like couplings that had seemed to go on and on.
When I finally started to wind down my description of the night Katrina asked, "You had sex with her five times in one night?" I nodded. "You ejaculated five times?" I nodded again. "It's impossible," my sister proclaimed.
"She said I was better than the guy she'd been sleeping with all summer. That if she'd known--"
"Did you use a condom?" I shook my head no. "Are you crazy?"
"She said a virgin should always ride bareback his first time."
"Yeah right! Is that what they teach at Northwestern these days?" Sis wasn't happy.
"Anyway the next morning when I woke up she was talking to my penis. That's when she said he was the most beautiful penis she'd ever seen. Then she sucked me."
"And I suppose she was better at it than Mrs. Thompson?" sis asked sarcastically.
"Unh uh. Just different. That's part of my problem. They're both good in their own ways."
"Meanwhile your girlfriend, the girl you supposedly love, is sitting at home twiddling her thumbs."
"That's my problem! I like Sarah but I like the others too. That's why I came to see you tonight. To hear what you think ... I mean you're the person I trust most in the world."
"Yeah right. After whatever woman you're sleeping with you mean. Somebody needs to cut it off."
"My penis?" I asked in a shocked tone.
"Shut up!" came back at me. "Now tell me what else happened with this Miriam slut."
Which was going to be tough to do if I followed her shut up order I thought even as I launched back into my tale. "We didn't leave her bed all that weekend. Neither of us wanted to stop. She kept saying she wanted her virgin's big cock inside herself. That she loved it when my hot cum burst inside her cunt."
"She talked like that?"
I nodded, then added, "You shoulda heard some of the things she said! She said I had biggest cock she'd ever seen. That no one had ever made her feel that way. She made me fuck her tits."
"She did what?" sis asked. And I knew what her next question was going to be. "How big is your penis anyway? You can't be that big..."
I wasn't quite ready to answer that question just yet. "Miriam taught me a lot that week."
"Every night I went back to her place. As soon as our work finished. We did everything. She taught me--"
"Taught you what?"
"Oral sex, things like that."
"You'd already done that ... with Mrs. Thompson," Kat interjected in a petulant tone.
"She taught me how to do it to a woman. To go down on her. What women like. And anal stuff."
For just a second I could see that Katrina was thrown by the anal reference but then I saw comprehension dawn. "In her ass?" Almost horror on Kat's face.
"No you are not!"
"She told me I'm the most oversexed man she'd ever slept with. That no man had ever been able to satisfy her like I had. That I'd given her more orgasms in a week than her boyfriend had in a year. And she said her boyfriend was pretty good."
"She's a slut."
"She laughed when I finally admitted I hadn't been a virgin. I told her about Sarah. About her mother. She told me I should just keep fucking both of them. That I should try to get them both in bed together."
"That's the stupidest advice I've ever heard anyone give. Do you want to break Sarah's heart? Ruin her life." Kat demanded.
"I told her about the other girls. About you."
"What other girls? MEEEE!!!! What could you have possibly have told her about me?"
"I blamed you."
"Blamed meeee! How can I be blamed? What did I do?"
"Miriam agreed with me. She told me that it's normal for young boys to be led astray if their older sister acts like you did." Katrina was ready to explode! "That's probably why I've slept with so many girls. Why my libido's so high. She says she's studied it, that it's pretty regularly encountered in her field."
"Libido my ass. And what fucking field?" Not happy at all!
"That's what she's doing her M.A. thesis on. Teenage sexuality and the influence of family members on it. In determining how you turn out."
"What a load of crap! How many girls have you slept with anyway?"
"Up until the end of last summer?" I asked back.
"Well how many have you?" I challenged back. We'd finally gotten to the next stage. And I knew I had my sister where I wanted her. I knew she'd lie. And I knew it would really get exciting when she found out how I knew she was lying.
"It's none of your business. We're talking about you now."
"Well Philip must be one," I said ignoring her. "And then you must have slept with Kenny Bridges when you were in high school." Kenny had gone to the prom with Katrina.
"I did not," Kat denied even as the blush spread on her lips.
"And probably Graham Sinclair," I added. He'd gone out with Katrina when they'd both been juniors. In fact I knew for a fact that he'd been her first. That he was the boy who'd popped her proverbial cherry. I'd never liked the prick!
"Are you crazy?"
"And everyone wondered about you and that English teacher."
"What English teacher?" But Katrina knew exactly who I was talking about. She'd had a crush on one of her teachers her senior year.
"So that's four," I answered as I held up four fingers, still ignoring her outbursts. "And you must have slept with someone your first year and a half at Carleton. Mind you, up there, who knows?"
"And what does that mean?"
"Everyone knows about that school," I said disdainfully.
"It's one of the highest rated Liberal Arts Colleges in the country."
"Yeah," I scoffed, "for male homosexual studies."
"I'll kill you."
"Anna looked it up. After you'd brought Philip home last summer."
"Anna? Our sister Anna? You involved her? She's only fifteen. What did you tell her?"
"I didn't involve anyone! She just spat it out at dinner one night. Said that she'd looked up Carleton on the Internet and found that the GBLT Alliance of America had named it the most gay friendly college in America."
"They did not!"
"That's what she said anyway. Dad asked her where she'd heard that."
"Dad and mom were there?"
"Apparently the male student body at Carleton is thirty-seven percent gay and another forty-one percent bisexual or transsexual. That's what the GBLTers say anyway."
"You are soooo, soooo wrong."
"Anyway, stop trying to change the subject. We were talking about your lovers. We were up to four if I remember correctly."
"We were not up to four! And you're the one changing the subject."
"So there had to be at least two or three at Carleton. The prettiest girl at the College had to have been able to locate some of the few straight guys there. And then you probably slept with one of your professors too. So that's at least six. Probably seven. You're definitely ahead of me," I finished smugly.
"Two! Just two! I have only slept with two boys in my whole life," Katrina denied. But she had caught the compliment about the prettiest girl I'd thrown her.
"Liar," I accused. I was moving in for the kill. Then I gave her a knowing smile. Just when she was about to say something else I turned my head slowly towards her dresser. Towards the third drawer of her dresser. The drawer that holds her underwear. Her panties.
It finally clicked! I saw it in her face when the truth finally registered. There was no way I could have known unless... "If you ... I swear if you--" she sputtered.
I interrupted. "Hah! It's your fault. Just like Miriam told me."
"Myyyy FAULT! How could it possibly be myyyy fault?" Katrina screeched. She was near cationic.
"You knew I'd look there. You wanted me to read it."
"I knew you'd look there?" Total incredibility in her voice. "I knew that my brother would skulk around in my underwear and find my personal diary?"
"Every teenage boy in the world checks out his sister's panties. You knew that."
"No Robert, every boy in the world does not check out his sister's panties."
"Maybe not the weirdoes that go to your school but every normal boy does. How do you think boys learn about those things," I added nonchalantly.
For seconds Katrina was incapable of speech.
"You've slept with seven guys."
"I have not!"
"If you don't want to talk about it that's okay,"
"I hate you."
"And reading about it when I was young had a profound effect on me. Miriam says that young boys who are exposed to a big sister's wild sexual proclivities invariably become highly sexed themselves. Especially when the sister is blond."
Katrina seemed to count to ten to herself before she responded. And when she did she started slowly, calmly. "Robert, first of all I'd just like to say that Miriam is full of shit." Sis was smiling as she talked but it was a pained, unwelcoming smile. "Second, I don't care what Anna found on the Internet, Carleton College is one of the finest schools in the land. A school that, unhappily for you, you'd never be accepted into." I could have responded to that last line but I figured I'd let sis run with the ball for a while.
"Third, mucking around in your sister's underwear is about the lowest of the lows." Again I shut up. "Perhaps the only thing lower would be to read your sisters private diary. A diary that was hidden and locked." The lock on her diary had been a piece of cake! "And what does being a blond have to do with anything?"
"Finally betraying your girlfriend like you've done indicates a depravity and level of sexual perversion that is almost unheard of. I'm ashamed to have you--"
Enough is enough I thought to myself, then cut into Katrina's speech, "So you won't help me?"
"Well that's why I came tonight. To get some advice. I mean I knew you had lots of experience so I thought that maybe you, my favorite sister, someone who's always been kind to me even if your behavior did lead me astray, would be able to help me with my little problem."
"LITTLE PROBLEM! Little bloody problem? Your problem sounds to me that it's quite a big problem and one that should be kept in your pants."
Just then we heard a knock on the door. A second later mom's head peeked in.
"Robert, you're not bothering your sister are you?"
"She's been helping me," I answered as I flashed mom my best boyish, innocent smile. "I'm lucky she's home this weekend."
"She has?" Mom couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice. She'd clearly imagined something much worse when she'd heard Katrina's raised voice.
"I just had some questions about girl things. Sarah and I..." I left the sentence hanging.
"You're having problems with Sarah?" Mom asked.
"I'm lucky Kat came home."
"You can always talk to me Robert," mom said.
"Teenage girls are weird these days mom. That's why I needed to talk to someone like Katrina."
"Yeah right ... girls are the weird ones," sis said sarcastically as she raised her eyes to the ceiling. But she didn't give me away.
Mom, after checking her daughter's reaction to my words, flashed a small grin. She could tell by our tones that her children were in a teasing mode.
"Don't stay up too late," mom advised as she backed towards the door. "Your dad and I are turning in."
"We're probably going to watch a flick. A good one comes on at eleven-thirty," I told mom.
"I could make you some popcorn," mom offered back. "Before I go to bed."
"Would you?" I said with a smile and then popped up off of sis's bed. "I'll come with you. I gotta pee and then I'll help you," I told my mother as I grabbed her hand and started to lead her out the door.
"I think I'm too tired for a movie," Katrina yelled at my departing back.
"Oh no you're not," I said as I danced back to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "You promised to help."
"You should change into your jammies dear. The popcorn will be ready in no time," mom advised sis. Then mom walked over to Kat, gave her a big hug and said, "It's so nice to have you home honey. Seeing you two together brings back such good memories. And helping your brother even though you're hurting – you make me so proud honey."
What could sis say to that? "I'm going to have a shower first," she finally said when she realized she wasn't going to escape. She tried to sound a bit reluctant but I knew with one hundred percent certainty that she wanted to continue our little talk.
"You know you can always talk to me Robert." Mom and I were standing side by side in the kitchen. The popcorn was in the microwave. I was pouring the cokes. Mom clearly had been hurt that I'd felt I couldn't discuss my problems with her.
"I made it up mom."
"I just wanted to get Katrina talking. You know how she loves helping others."
"So you made up a problem with Sarah?"
"You don't mind? You don't think it was too underhanded?" Mom was elated at my subterfuge!
"Did she say anything about Philip?" she wanted to know.
"A bit. I'm leading her to it slowly. But from what she's hinted so far I think she's starting to realize that losing Philip might have been the best thing that could have happened to her. And she hasn't admitted it yet but I think maybe Philip didn't leave her for another girl."
"I think Anna may have been right about him after all."