Clitoris, Genitals, Glans, Hymen, Labia, Mammary Glands, Penis, Phallus, Mons Pubis, Scrotum, Testicles, Vagina, Vulva, Womb.

We were sitting at the kitchen table with our biology books open to the full color, translucent pages in the middle of the book that showed the human body in stages from the skeleton to skin. It was the last few weeks of our Advanced Biology class and we were studying the human reproductive system. We’d gone through the human body from Epidermal to Skeletal and were finally into something interesting. Reproduction, Procreation, Sex, Humping, Banging, Getting it On, Screwing, Fucking, Doing It.

My sister was reading the terms from the vocabulary while I scoured through the pages looking for the definitions. She would repeat the word then after I found the right description in the book, we studied the colored images to identify that particular item of the body. Both Male and Female were represented with little arrows and notes describing and defining the body part illustrated. We’d spent the better part of Saturday afternoon doing our homework and even though we were looking at and talking about the most intimate parts and acts, there was absolutely no arousal factor, I just wanted to escape.

My sister is almost four years behind me in age but since she’s so scary smart she is taking advanced classes in school; that’s how we ended up doing the same homework. Regal is in two of my classes so sometimes we study Shakespeare together too. Now that’s really fucking boring and if it weren’t for my kid sister, I’d be failing him with a double fucking F.

Regal, the brainy little geek girl, her IQ is about a billion. She already has a full four-year scholarship to State University just because of her mind. Her name is Regal which mom thought was cool because it means royalty or something. Mostly I thought it meant she was a royal pain.

Sis says her name makes her sound geeky, but if you look up Geek in a dictionary, you’ll see her picture. Not only does she have a geek name, she looked the part with thick framed, brown flecked tortoise shell glasses and mousy colored hair done up in two tight rope braids and bangs to her eyebrows. Being a fifteen-year-old with a lifetime of A+ report cards who carries her books in the crook of her arm instead of a backpack, didn’t downplay the nerd image either. She didn’t wear anything except dull colored, formless over-sized dresses almost to her ankles. She looked as if she bought from old lady thrift shops. My friends all kidded me about how my sister is some kind of Brainiac, like MegaMind or something, I was kind of embarrassed of her sometimes. Regal says I have smarts too but if being smart or using them meant I had to look and act like her, then I’d rather duck that responsibility thank you. We were done with definitions so I closed the book, making ready to enjoy the rest of the afternoon with my skateboard when Regal leaned back on her chair and looked at me with probing eyes, “Can I ask you something?” she began.

“What?”

“You see boys in the gym showers after the games; do you guys all look like those pictures? I mean all people are made up the same way; do we all look the same?”

“Huh, what are you getting at? I guess we all have the same parts but you can see the differences, some people are skinny, fat, or totally buff. There are good looking people and some really dirt bag lookers. Some boys are hung, some not so much and lot of girls have big boobs while others have little ones. Of course, we all look different.”

Regal came back at me, “True, we all have the same physical make up but what are the differences? I mean, take women’s breasts; I know there are different sizes, but do the nipples all look the same? Maybe some are fatter or longer or poke out in different ways and directions. Or a man’s penis, are they all the same size? Does every man in the world have a six-inch phallus?” My sister locked her brown eyes on mine, “Have you seen a girl’s breasts?”

“Tits, Regal, in my language they are called tits, boobs, a rack, jugs, knockers, ta tas, or chest pillows. Breasts are what gorillas beat on.”

“What about the penis?”

“That can be a prick, cock, pecker, schlong, rod, wanker or be a name like Dick, Peter, Willie or Johnson.”

My sister flushed slightly red, “Where do you pick up vocabulary like that? I never hear that stuff.”

I stood to leave, “You gotta have friends that talk like that, some that don’t have their noses stuck in a book twenty-four seven. Those three friends of yours are some of the weirdest kids on this planet and everybody I know thinks you’re weird too. Too much brain, not enough reality. Let’s face it Regal, if you want to learn about life, you won’t learn it from a book, you gotta get something stuffed up your twat.”

My sister was used to me riding her about being smart so she didn’t flinch, “Twat? I know that one and it will be a long time before I let some guy stuff a schlong into my twat.”

“You’d better make that a boner, a schlong would be too limp.”

The house geek ended the conversation by correcting me, “Flaccid, not limp.”

We tested on Monday and I scraped up a B while my sister topped the charts as usual. The rest of the week in Biology was spent on Reproduction which was fun because the guys in class were ragging on the girls constantly for examples and practice, the teacher was barely able to control the testosterone. The storm of innuendo and suggestions in the room inundated my young sister but failed to faze her. She studied and took copious notes while the rest of us whistled, cheered, and flirted with the flashier girls.

Copulation, Ejaculation, Fertilization, Gametes, Intercourse, Penetration, Procreation, Spermatozoa, Zygote; the list went on. That chapter in the book was very explicit in scientific terms with full color images of sperm and egg reproduction. When we were done with the definitions Regal flipped the pages back to the picture that showed a cut away view of an erect penis inside a vagina with a cloud of semen around the end of it. It was like the pair having sex was split down the middle, kind of like a cut away view of an engine or something to see how the insides work. “That looks almost erotic except it would hurt be cut in half like that” mentioned my sister. I was thinking only a total nerd would find a science book erotic. She looked up at me, “You never answered my question last week, have you ever seen a woman’s breasts?”

She caught me off guard. I hesitated because I don’t normally talk about private stuff with anyone, but I knew she was looking for knowledge, not gossip. “Yeah, I’ve kinda played around with some girls that way.”

She didn’t ask who, but, “What do they feel like, can you feel the lactic glands inside?”

“Glands no, I was feeling the nipples, those are the turn on, I didn’t want lunch, I was trying to get laid.”

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Did you copulate; get laid as you say in your gutter vernacular?”

“The word is ‘fuck’ Regal. Did I get fucked? Bugs copulate, maybe birds copulate but people fuck. When a guy sticks his hard-on into a girl, they are bumping uglies; fucking. You gotta get out of the library sometimes and join the real world. And yes, I’ve fucked some girls, seven of them in fact. Screwed, hammered, boffed, jumped and bounced. I don’t copulate, that doesn’t sound very fun.

“Say it.” I demanded.

She cocked her head, “Say what?”

“Say Fuck, Fucking, Fucked, Fucker, Fucks. Say them all, I want to hear you say something ghetto.”

Regal stood up as if to leave and faced me full frontal, “Kiss my ass; why don’t you go slurp up some cocksuckers cum from a fat assed bitch’s hard fucked cunt?” She smiled sweetly, big brown eyes twinkled happily behind the heavy framed glasses, “Ghetto enough?” then swept from the room surrounded by an air of satisfaction. I was stupefied.

The next weekend we were studying for our final tests in High School. The Graduate Dance was just hours away but my sister insisted on keeping up the ritual of two hours of homework every Saturday. I wanted to start gearing up for my date but Regal was adamant, “You will not graduate if you cannot interpret Shakespeare.”

“And I won’t get screwed if I don’t go to the dance with Marcie.”

Regal put her pencil down, “What makes you think she will mate with you?”

“It’s the last Prom. It’s tradition. It’s natural, it’s expected. We dance, make out, then get it on in a car or even a bed if we’re lucky.”

“If it is tradition, how do you think the poor fathers of the girls feel, sending their virginal daughters into the night with bastards and fornicators?”

“Don’t you know Sis; every father in the world knows what goes on after the dance but each one of them holds on to the belief that his daughter is one of the few pure girls in the school. None of them want to believe their girl fucks like a bunny when she can.” I continued, “There are only three fathers I know who can be sure their girls are behaving themselves.”

“Who?” asked Regal.

“Ours and your really weird friends.” For the first time in my life I saw my sister react as if I had slugged her. She bolted upright in the chair and stared at me; hurt filled tears formed then rolled down her cheeks. She wobbled sideways and tried to stand up but crashed against the table then plopped to her ass on the floor. I stared at her as she sat there for a few moments looking at nothing, dazed from the impact of my words. I got up and offered her my hand, “Jeez, Regal, I didn’t mean it like that.”

She lifted her head, wiped the tears off her face with the back of her hand, “Yes you did, and it is true, I know lots of things but I do not know about life. I do not know how to be a girl; I do not know how to be a teenager. I only know what comes out of books.” She sighed and reached for my hand to pull herself up. Regal stood her full 5’5 in front of me, “I need your help.”

“Doing what?”

“The Prom is tonight and I’m going with Timothy.” Timothy was the 4th player at the nerd table, “I do not want to be the wallflower tonight; I do not want everybody laughing at the brainy little freakazoid. I do not want you to be embarrassed by me anymore. Take me to the mall, you have to help me buy a dress and get ready.”

“But –”

She cut me off, “But nothing, I am asking you nice. Please?”

The first stop was the prom dress rack at Macy*s. Regal had no idea what she was looking for so we found an assistant named Monica to help. When she asked my sister what the dance theme was, we couldn’t answer. She asked if it was formal or semi-formal, again we couldn’t answer; I pulled out my cell and called my date to ask her the questions. Once that was settled Monica pulled four dresses off hangers and told Regal to model them.

For years I’d seen my sister in dull, colorless clothes, dead dresses or baggy pants and sweaters. When she stepped out of the changing room in the first dress, I couldn’t believe I was looking at Regal. The librarian glasses, white socks and scuffed brown shoes couldn’t disguise the body under the red cloth. I couldn’t find words to tell her that her curves and form were as sensuous as any girl I’d ever dated. The neck line plunged low across her breasts and the tight dress forced her tits to bulge up slightly, inviting my eyes to latch onto cleavage I never knew existed. From the full bust the dress narrowed to a slim waist then widened again over hips and a firm round butt. The skirt hem cut across her knees which left exposed shapely calves and slender ankles. It was apparent that she never uncovered her body to the sun; her legs and chest were porcelain, almost translucent. Regal stepped cautiously to a full-length mirror and asked timidly, “How does this look?”

I wasn’t an expert and I was being influenced by her cleavage, “Great, I never saw you like that before. It fits you nice.”

Monica shot me a withering look then addressed my sister, “The color is wrong and it should be over or below the knees. And you might want to show a little less skin below the neck.” Regal gave her a grateful look and scurried back to try on dress number two.

When she came out, she was wearing a saffron yellow semi-formal that hugged her closely from shoulders to waist then flared to a slender skirt that ended just above her knees. The sales girl took one look and asked “Very nice but do you need your glasses all the time?” When Regal said no she said “Take them off, let’s look at you that way.”

The store clerk turned to me, “You two are going to make an attractive couple. She’s actually very pretty and you compliment her looks perfectly.”

“She’s my sister” I grumbled.

I got a puzzled look then a quick flirtatious, “Too bad, any girl would be happy to go to a Prom with you.”

Regal interjected, “I do not need to try the other two dresses, I will take this one.”

After we bought the dress, hosiery, new bra (32C), and matching heels the sales assistant asked my sister about her hair, “What are you going to do about those braids, they don’t go well with the dress.”

“I have to go to a Salon.”

“Just a minute, stay there.” She lifted a phone from under the counter and punched up a number. “Mattie? Hey girl, I have a friend here who needs your help.” Pause, “Yeah, extreme makeover, hair, makeup and manicure.” Another pause, “Right now, she’s going to a prom in five hours.”

We entered the Salon and were greeted by a raven and orange haired twenty-something woman who sported several tattoos and piercings, “Are you “Reagan?”

“Regal. Yes, Monica sent me.”

Mattie took one long look at my sister, “I can see why, sit there, what color is the dress?”

The first thing to go were the braids. Mattie pulled them out into long strands of tightly curled hair then asked “Do you have to keep the hair this long?”

My sister looked scared but she answered “No, I do not know, just, ah, just make it look good.”

Mattie clapped her hands loudly, “Laura! Come here, you do the fingers and toes, I have work to do on the hair.” She turned to me, “You can come back in two hours for your date.” That was the second time someone had mistaken my relationship with my sister.

Two hours later when I entered the Salon the only way I recognized Regal was the ugly clothes she was wearing. Mattie had cut her hair to half its length, it hung only to her neck line and was done in soft wind-swept feathered bob with streaked blond highlights. Laura had dressed up her fingers with acrylic extensions glossed white with small soft yellow comets at the tip of each one. Since my sister wasn’t used to applying make-up the two women took extra time to fix her face.

I’d never seen Regal made up and I couldn’t keep the smile of astonishment off my face, “Damn Sis, you look hot, even with those rags on.” And she did, my sister was as pretty as any girl in our school. In just seconds I gained a male’s appreciation for the attractive girl standing in front of me, bright red with embarrassment.

I took my blushing sister home where she dashed for her bedroom, “Get mom in here” she said before she shut the door.

I found our mother in the back yard bent over a weed patch, “Hey, Regal wants to see you, she’s in her room.”

“What does she want?”

“Wait, you’ll see, and I think she wants to borrow some of your jewelry.”

The next thing I heard from my mother was “Oh my god girl, what did you do to your hair?” as she went into my sister’s room. Mom helped Regal get dressed for the dance. Every once in a while, I heard squeals of delight and laughter from behind the closed door as I readied for my date.

Timothy was due to pick up Regal at seven so she stayed hidden until he showed up, I wasn’t about to leave until I saw the reaction of her date and our father. Mom was effervescent as she waited impatiently for her daughter to make her dramatic entrance. It was my job to announce to my sister that it was time to go, I tapped on her door, “Are you ready?”

Regal opened the door slightly, I could see raw nervousness in her eyes, “Is dad out there?” She opened the door wider and I got my first view of my upgraded sister. Again, I was speechless as I looked her up and down but that time, I had a completely unexpected reaction. I got a strong carnal thrill in my loins as my balls dumped an involuntarily dose of hormones into my blood. Regal 2.0 wasn’t just sexy; from the top of her new styled hair to the open toes of her high heels she was volatile. She wobbled a little, adjusting to the heels, so I stepped to the side and she took my arm, then Regal walked regally side by side with me to the front room.

Dad took one look at his daughter, his eyes widened in surprise, his mouth fell open as he stared, “Regal? What in God’s name happened to you?” I glanced at Timothy who looked like he wanted to hide.

Regal’s smile lit up the room, “I did not want to look geeky tonight, dad. Timothy, how do I look?”

The poor boy was flummoxed, he could only stare at the vision that flowed into the room on my arm. He stammered, then managed, “I brought my scooter, I wasn’t expecting you to be wearing a dress Regal.” Wasn’t that a typical dweeb move, ride a scooter to the biggest night of the year.

Dad looked at me, “Your car is too small, take mine, your sister can ride with you.” I stared at him in shock, I didn’t mind helping Regal get ready but to have to escort her? No fucking way! I thought it, but didn’t say it. Dad tossed me the keys to his SUV, “And watch over her son, she won’t be used to the attention she’ll get.” As we went out the door mom looked ecstatic that her girl had at last shown herself to be a young woman, but dad had the stricken look of a father sending his virginal daughter into the night filled with bastards and fornicators.

When Marcie opened the door my testosterone levels rocketed. I made obliging comments to her mother then took her to the car, stealing a quick kiss and feel before we got there. When I opened the door to let her in, she glanced in the back seat then turned to me, looking none too pleased she demanded, “Who the hell are they?”

“My sister and Timothy.”

She looked again, “That’s your sister? That’s Regal?”

“Yeah, she and Timothy are riding with us.”

Marcie whined, “I thought we would be alone tonight, it’s Prom.” I caught her meaning, there was going to be some hot sex later and company wasn’t appreciated.

“We’ll be alone after I drop them off later, I promise.”

“We’d better be” was the petulant retort. It kind of irked me that Marcie didn’t say one word to the couple in the back seat for the fifteen minutes it took to get to the dance. In fact, she didn’t say anything to me either.

An explosion of “Ohmygawd that’s Regal!” echoed through the big room for several minutes. In moments she became the focal attraction, boys who never once spoke to her all of a sudden wanted to say hi. At first my sister was almost panicked by the parade of new friends but she adapted quickly. I sat with my group across the room and watched her successfully fend off a lot of unwanted attention. I did notice that except for her two friends, none of her new admirers were female.

The vortex of swinging dicks dwindled away but it was too late for Timothy, just being associated with the young beauty that was his date made him so nervous that he broke out in hives. My sister hurried to my table, “You have to take Timothy home, he is sick and breaking out.”