My brother was getting married. His judgment sucked, as usual, but he couldn't see it. I tried to talk him out of it, even threatened to speak out at the part where 'If any should know cause' part. He just said he'd pound me. Pound me! Hah! *I'm* the one the sensei has teaching the younger kids, and my brother thinks he's going to pound me. Funny.

The one bright thing about this little get-together was my brother's future sister-in-law. She's cute, and articulate, and laughed at my stupid jokes. She even told me she didn't think this marriage was a good idea. How come the younger siblings are often the more mature ones? Go figure.

"Johnny! I need to talk to you!" My mother broke my musings.

"Here, mom. I'll be right there." I shouted so she could hear me. We've got an intercom, but nobody uses it. I guess it's just more fun to shout at people.

I ran downstairs to the living room, where mom and dad were both waiting for me. Uh-oh, this didn't bode well. "Umm... What's up?"

Mom spoke first. "Danny told us you were threatening to disrupt his wedding--is this true?"

I looked sheepishly between them, "I was just trying to talk some sense into him. You know this isn't going to work. He should have married Jennifer, not dumped her for Kathy." Jennifer was his last girlfriend.

Dad spoke up, "I know you think that, son, but he still has to live his own life. We can counsel him, and try to protect him, but the final decision is his own." Dad held up a legal document of some sorts. "We also have to protect the family. To this end I persuaded Kathy to sign a prenuptial agreement. Everything that can be done has been done, so let Danny make this decision without any more worries."

Mom broke in, "I see you understand, but please promise me you won't say anything during the ceremony. You've never broken a promise not beyond your control, and I want your promise."

"OK, mom. I promise." I smiled at her. "No surprises from me."

"Thanks, Johnny. I knew you'd understand." She came over and hugged me. "Now, remember, I want you to keep your tux on after the ceremony. You and PJ will be part of the serving line at the reception, and her mother and I want you both to look good." PJ was Kathy's little sister. In response to my groan of pain, "Don't be that way, you look so handsome in that tux, and I want to show off both my sons. OK?"

Dad chuckled at my plight, "Tell you what. If you do this for your mom, I'll let you have some champagne. You'll be eighteen in a couple of months, and it's time you were allowed to join in as an adult. Fair?"

"Thanks, dad!" I was grinning ear to ear.

That night during the rehearsal I got to talk some more to PJ. She was sixteen, liked Mozart, Chopin, and rock-n-roll. She read sci-fi, and thought that the 'new' Star Trek wasn't as good as the original. She also thought her sister was getting married for the wrong reasons. We agreed on a lot.

Danny grabbed me after the rehearsal, and gave me a ride home. We talked some more. "Look, I know you think Kathy is the wrong girl for me, but I love her. Mom also said you've promised not to say anything. Thanks for that, this means a lot to me."

I shrugged, "Dad talked more sense to me than mom did." I punched his arm, "I still think it's your funeral, bucko." Grinning at him.

He laughed, "Thanks, kid. Or not so much a kid, anymore." He grinned back. "Oh, I was supposed to give this to you." He handed me a gym bag. "Dad said I was to give you one of the *small* bottles of champagne for helping out in the serving line. I snagged a magnum for you, instead." He was really grinning, now.

"Thanks, Danny." Sometimes my brother could be all right.

The wedding went without a hitch. The groom and his groomsmen (myself included) all looked dashing in their tails. The bride in white, her bridesmaids in backless dresses looked very sexy and beautiful. PJ had to wear a matching shawl to cover her bare shoulders, her mother thought she was 'too young' to wear such a dress. With the spaghetti straps around the neck holding up the plunging neckline, she looked good showing some cleavage and soft curves.

She took my arm, giving it a squeeze, and I escorted her down the aisle to the exit. After the pictures, I grabbed PJ, "Let's go, I'll give you a ride to the reception."

She said, "OK, let me grab my bag." On the way out the door, PJ's mom was staring at us. PJ stuck her tongue at her, and grabbed my hand to pull me along.

In the car, I had to ask, "What was that about?"

"Oh, mom and dad don't let me date, or even hang around boys. I'm still too young, according to them. They won't let me date until my senior year. That's nearly two years from now!" I could see the frown from the corner of my eye.

"Was your sister the same way?" I asked.

"Yeah, and she went wild in her senior year. Drinking and parties all the time. I'm pretty sure she did some other stuff, too."

I couldn't follow up on that, we were at the house. "I'm parking away from the house to make room for all the guests. Let's go get set up in the serving line." We dropped her bag in the hall closet, and met the caterers.

The next couple of hours were spent serving the guests as they came off the reception line. With the hot food and all the people parading through the dining room, it was pretty warm in there. I was sweating like a pig. PJ was a little better, her dress was a light silk, but the shawl she was forced to put back on by her mother made her mad.

"It's stupid. I'm hot, and she makes me wear this shawl!" she hissed at me during a lull.

"Just be grateful you're not wearing a tux!" I whispered back.

When it looked like the last of the line was approaching, I handed PJ a plate, "Grab some food, and follow me! The caterers can finish serving the last people." It was time to disappear before mom found something else for us to do.

PJ followed me, but looked funny at me when I went into the hall closet. I pulled the cloth shoe rack aside, revealing a door. I opened it, motioning her to precede me into the basement. I closed and locked the door behind me; you could just hear the music starting to play outside. The basement was cooler, finished and carpeted, with some stuff I had brought down over the years to make it a nice place to hide. An old couch, covered with a couple blankets, was in front of a TV/VCR in the corner. A low table had a few empty pop bottles in front of the couch. There was a fridge and deep freezer against one wall, my punching bag hung from the center of the room. My free weights and a small chest of drawers were at the far end of the basement, next to the door to a small bathroom.

"All the comforts of home." I motioned to the room.

"Neat." PJ put her drink and plate on the table, then took off her shawl. "God, I'm glad to get out of that." The dress clung to her breasts, and I felt myself twitch.

I set my plate down, and took off my jacket and tie. "Me, too. Uhmm... do you mind if I take off my shirt, too? I'm still hot."

"Go ahead, I don't mind." She grinned at me. "It's funny. My mom wouldn't say a thing about you taking off your shirt, but I can't take off my shawl because I'm too young."

"I know, but she just doesn't want to have to deal with all the guys leering at your sexy dress." I leered at her exaggeratedly.

She blushed, "Do you really think I'm sexy?"

I smiled warmly, "Yeah, you're a very beautiful girl, PJ. Very sexy." I walked over to the fridge and got out a chilled flute with the champagne bottle.

"Please call me Patricia, PJ sounds like a kid's name." She saw the magnum, "You're having champagne! Can I, like, uhm, can I have some too? Please?"

"Sure, I think it's OK." I retrieved a second chilled flute. The bottle opened with a satisfying 'pop', and I poured two glasses of the bubbling liquid.

We toasted our good fortune, and wished our siblings luck in their new life together. The meal was delicious, and the magnum half-gone when we finished due to our thirst. I could feel a good buzz, and Patricia (not PJ anymore!) was feeling it as well. I took our disposable dishes and popped them into the trashcan, and when I turned around noticed Patricia shifting her weight back and forth on the cushion. Then she reached under it and pulled out a couple of magazines I had stashed there.

Oh shit! I thought. "I, uh, I don't know if you should see those, Patricia." Busted, I thought. These were some hard-core rags that showed men and women in various sexual acts, from oral to anal; even some kinky stuff.

"Oh, wow!" Patricia had opened one up. "I've never seen anything like this! Even Kathy never gave us stuff like this to look at. Wow!" As I approached, I could see down her dress. Her nipples were hard. She looked up at me. "Do you think, I mean, would it be OK if I, uhm, could I look at these? Please?"

I had to force myself to look at her face. "I'm not sure. I mean, you've never seen any dirty magazines of any kind?"

"Well, sure. I've been at sleepovers where somebody brought some girlie magazines, and even some with men in them. Some even had stories that were pretty hot, but I've never seen any pictures of people actually 'doing it' if that's what you mean." She was looking back at the magazine. I was looking at her breasts.

Blame it on the champagne, but I sat next to her. "OK, I guess you can look at them with me."

We looked through the magazines and Patricia periodically made comments like, "His penis looks so big, but it fits inside her." Or "It's in her bottom, he's got his dick in her bottom!" One picture had a woman on her knees with the man behind her, the look on her face one of ecstasy. "Wow, that must feel really good to her." One picture had a different woman with the guy's dick down her throat, "Some of my friends say their boyfriends really like that. Is that true? Do guys really like that?" she asked me.

I swallowed trying to get my voice, "Uhm, yeah. Guys like that. Some women do, too." I meant that women liked giving head, but she took it differently.

"You mean like, sucking on a woman's pussy? Women like doing that, too?" she looked incredulous.

"Well, yeah, but I meant that women liked going down on guys. It makes them just as hot as the guys to do it." I smiled as she looked at me with wide eyes. "And lots of guys like going down on girls, too. The girls seem to enjoy it, as well."

"Carlotta, my best friend, says she likes to swallow when her boyfriend comes. The other girls all thought it sounded gross, well, most did." She drank some more champagne. "I'm not sure if it's gross or not. Have you ever had it done to you?"

I drank some more champagne, as well. "Yeah, but she just used her hand to finish me. It felt OK, but was kind of messy. I think she just wanted to make sure I lasted longer the second time, you know?"

"Huh-uh, what do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, the first time a guy comes can be pretty quick, and girls need more time to come. So she made me come quick so I would last longer when we made love. Now, however, I think we just had sex. She didn't really love me, and I was just a horny boy looking to get laid. I went down on her, and she came, but I didn't know enough about love to understand."

"Do you still see her?" She almost whispered this.

"No. I caught her and another guy doing it at a party. It was kind of ugly, and I haven't dated seriously since. Just some fun dates, and a little petting; but nothing hot and heavy." I was feeling a little bummed, and refilled our glasses.

Patricia was looking at me and chewing her lip, "Would you date me? If you had a chance to, I mean?"

I leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. When I pulled back, her face was dreamy, "I'd love to date someone as pretty and sexy as you."

She was worrying that bottom lip, again. "Kiss me again, Johnny. Please?"

I leaned over, and she closed her eyes. Our second kiss was as soft as the first. The next kiss our tongues caressed each other, and I thought I heard her moan. As we continued to kiss, I gently put my arm around her, and softly touched her exposed skin. She turned toward me, and I felt her hands rest lightly on my thigh. I placed my free hand gently cupping a breast, and she pushed forward. I could feel the hard point in my palm. I lightly squeezed, and she moaned again; my thigh felt her grip tighten and relax rhythmically. She broke the kiss, and laid her head on my shoulder, I felt her sigh.

I moved my hands behind her, stroking the softness that was her skin. She kissed my neck. "That was wonderful."