Unspoken Pleasure

I woke up freezing cold.

I was naked in bed, covered in the comforter. No different than my usual morning. Yet I was shivering. Shaking. I got up and got dressed, quick as I could. But it wasn't enough. I dug through my drawers and found a pair of jeans and a long sleeve sweater from a long-forgotten high school trip to New York City. Still, I wrapped my arms around myself.

For a moment, I thought I might have a fever, but I checked my temperature, and it was fine. I went downstairs, the thermostat was the same 68 degrees, as always. Yet why was I so cold?

But that was only the first surprise of my morning. The second was waiting for me outside the house. I was in the kitchen eating breakfast when I saw it, saw her, out the window. I couldn't believe my eyes.

I raced to the backyard. It was a sunny Saturday morning. While I didn't feel it, I could tell that it was warm. There, lying back in the blue waters of our backyard swimming pool, wearing a bright green bikini(?!), was my sister.

Betsy was laying back on an inflatable pool chair. Her head lolled back. Skin glistening with sweat. She looked amazing, of course. But that wasn't what had me frazzled.

When Betsy saw me, she gave me a broad grin. She tipped herself out of the floater and swam up to the side of the pool. Her perfect body sluicing through the water like a mermaid.

"Come join me!" she said folding her arms on the edge, "The water's amazing!"

We'd been living in Florida our whole lives. I think I'd seen my sister in a bathing suit maybe three times, and always a one piece that covered as much skin as possible. And she'd never gone even near the pool. Yet there she was, kicking her shapely legs through the water like it was nothing.

"Aren't you cold?" I asked, shivering for emphasis.

Betsy giggled. "Are you kidding? This is the warmest I've felt in years!"

My sister spent the whole morning enjoying the pool -- swimming and lounging in the water like it was her natural environment. I sat by the side near our little glass coffee table and stared at her. Was Betsy possessed? Replaced by an alien doppelganger? I couldn't explain it, so I watched, waiting for the first sign of danger.

Apparently, our parents had woken up early and gone off to do parent things. Though I didn't remember it, at some point Betsy must have slipped out of my bedroom during the night because we hadn't gotten caught. It was just the two of us on a Saturday morning. Me and the strange, summery being who had replaced my sister.

Finally, around lunch time, I was able to coax Betsy out of the water with an offer of food. She ate ravenously, tearing through two sandwiches with pruney fingers. Dripping a puddle of water under her chair. I was too dumbfounded to do anything but watch.

Even without all the extra stuff -- the cold, the bikini, all of it -- I was struggling to process the night before. We hadn't crossed the line, we'd leapt over it, then run back and ripped the poor thing to shreds. With a girlfriend, a girl I was supposed to be having sex with, we'd have some kind of postmortem following our first time. I'd just had sex with my sister. I'd have thought it would require several days of discussions. Preferably with a therapist present. Instead, Betsy sat there like all of this was normal. And my already addled brain was barely able to hold it all together.

"We should talk about last night," I said, finally. Fuck I was cold. I wondered if I could put my raincoat on over my sweater and not look like a total weirdo.

"I know, wasn't it awesome?" Betsy said. She licked the remains of her lunch off her fingers, one-by-one.

"I mean, it was, but..."

"I feel so warm," Betsy said, hugging herself happily, "I can't wait to do it again tonight."

"Oh. OK." Being honest, I wasn't sure how to react to that. I mean, I very much wanted to keep doing what we were doing. It was too incredible to not continue. But I knew that we should want to stop and being pulled between the two had me stretched thin. I wasn't sure what was supposed to happen after I had sex with my sibling, but I was certain we weren't meant to casually discuss it over lunch and agree to continue.

"I mean, I'd much rather do it sooner, too," Betsy said, "But I want to give Brandon Junior some time to recover. And besides, I'm still comfortable. I want to save up and get the full benefit. You know?"

"Sure thing."

"You're not upset, are you?" Betsy asked. "You've been acting off all morning."

"No, I'm OK," I said, holding back a shiver.

"Good, cause we're doing that a lot more," Betsy said.

"I guess it's a good thing you're on protection," I said, "Or we'd be in loads of trouble."

Betsy's face went serious. "Oh, I'm not on the pill," she said.

My heart dropped onto the ground and splattered on the pavement.

*

A normal, intelligent individual would have called an end to things at this point. But, by now you've surely realized that I am not that person. Instead, I spent the whole afternoon arguing with myself. It's not like I didn't know the right answer. It's just that my stupid, horny brain wouldn't accept it.

I must have been muttering to myself louder than I thought, because my mom interrupted me. "Hey are you, OK?" she asked.

We were both in the kitchen. She was in the middle of cooking dinner, and I was... Actually, I'm not sure what I was doing. Considering the consequences. Reasoning my reactions. Freaking the fuck out.Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

"I'm fine," I said, reflexive.

"Are you sure?" Mom asked. She gestured for me to sit on one of the kitchen stools, just like Dad had a week before. But also not like Dad had at all. Mom was smiling warmly. She had my sister's face, but a different body. Broad-shouldered and soft. She looked like she was actually concerned about me.

"I'm trying to figure stuff out," I said, before I stopped myself.

"Girl trouble?" Mom asked.

I glanced up at her, surprised.

"At your age, it's always girl trouble," she said.

"I like her," I said, "This girl. I mean. You don't know her."

"Of course," Mom said.

"And like I said, I like being with her. A lot. But, um, it's complicated."

"But you like her," Mom said, "You enjoy spending time with her."

"Oh yeah," I said, "It's amazing. I just worry. About the consequences."

Mom stared at me for a moment, like processing. She walked out from behind the counter and opened the cabinet.

"Look, you're young," Mom said, "And not every relationship you have is going to be your 'forever' partner or whatever. You're still at an age where you can have fun. Someday you'll be married and have kids and I promise you, you're not going to be spending all your time wishing you'd been more cautious growing up. Sometimes it's good to make mistakes. It's way more memorable than following the rules all the time."

"I mean, I guess," I said.

Mom reached deeper into the cabinet, pushing everything out of the way. A grin filled her face. She pulled out a box of chocolate cookies. The box was stamped with the words 'Imported from Belgium.' She winked at me as she reached into the container.