Chapter 2: Splinter

It was Mimi who suggested this. She’s my shrink. She calls herself a spirit toucher, though, but I have a hard enough time calling her a shrink. I saw her three times a week at one point in the not so distant past.

She’s small-boned and willowy, and with a face like a sunflower. It just sort of opens up when she smiles. One time I said that to her, and she nodded all wisely and told me her commune, Wind and Sun, say it because she’s a spiritual vessel.

Whatever that entails—I didn’t ask.

Anyway. Mimi and I were braiding baskets, which was actually quite soothing, and fascinating enough that I didn’t care it was going to be my physio for the day. I still wore the bandages, even though I didn’t need them anymore. We talked about that too, but only after she suggested this.

Looking up from her basket (which is way way better than mine) she smiles that forest-calm smile and says, ‘Georgie, I’ve had a brain-wave about you meeting with Logan. I know it’s something we’ve really struggled with. It’s a big thing.’ And because she’s a hippie, she’s like my most favourite person in the world, because she doesn’t give two fucks that Logan is my brother. She just supports me.

‘Oh?’ I worry at the bandages instead of weaving now, trying to force my gaze up to hers. ‘What is it?’

‘Memories are powerful things, as you well know,’ Mimi began, in her round-about manner of explaining. ‘They can evoke incredibly strong emotion. And sometimes, not just a memory, but encountering an experience which is very similar. It can bring back the same emotions.’

‘It can?’ I echoed anxiously, unsure where she was going with this.

‘Yes. So, what I was thinking is ... perhaps you could try to go back in time, somehow, with Logan.’

‘What?’ I raised my eyebrows. ‘You’ve found a time machine?’

She giggled, then became more serious. ‘No, silly. I thought ... if you could do something like your first time, with him, it could bring out the same emotions in both of you. Help to heal by experiencing that sort of thing, reminding you how it could be. You’ve been through so much.’ Mimi paused, and we wove in silence for a moment before she spoke again.

‘Do you remember your first time? You’ve never shared that before. If you’re ready.’ She spoke so calmly and kindly. I trusted her completely on that—I’d never been pushed to tell something I was unready for.

I took a deep breath. ‘Yes ... I do. I will.’

This isn’t the version I told Mimi. That would’ve been pretty explicit for a therapy session. But I can say it here.

We’d gone away. Booked a private place, on the pretense of a sibling bonding weekend—well, it was at that, I guess—booked a remote log cabin. Taken cameras and art equipment and maps for hiking.

It had been my idea to run the bath, then. We had gone in, shy, blushing, despite how many times we’d already even one another naked and loved each part thoroughly with hand and mouth and tongue ... only tonight, we planned to join. Logan would part my legs, push himself between them (the thought made me shudder) and take my virginity, and rid himself of his own in the same thrust.

I ran the water hot. Poured in Epsom salts scented with lavender. Used my handmade rosemary soap.

After washing, we kissed and kissed until my lips were swollen and red and so were my nipples, he just kept rubbing them with his thumbs over and over ... my pussy was so ripe. I was straddling him, fingers in that brown hair. Finally, I begged and begged him to take me, so we got out of the water and made love next to the tub. I came so fast. God ... we both did. We’d talked about what to do, and Logan didn’t mean to cum in me, but ... passion took the upper hand. We got too hot. I had a second orgasm. I was riding him now, enjoying the last aftershocks of my second cum, and Logan grabbed my hips and moaned so loud (oh, god, I always loved it when he moaned my name) and I felt him throb in me and it felt so so good ... I didn’t realize until he subsided that he’d cum.

We were so careful after that, despite how much we enjoyed the raw sex.

But you know, they always say that one time is enough.

‘So, try that,’ Mimi urged me. ‘It was a time that you cherish thinking of, right? It makes you feel happy? You’d enjoy reliving it?’