Chapter 11

The next morning, waking up a bit later than usual, we hurriedly showered and got ready to leave for our respective schools, hardly saying a word to each other. Evidently we were both still mulling over what had happened the night before, although I didn’t feel that there was any particular tension between us - we took a moment to embrace and kiss in the shower and it felt as sweet and loving as it always did. Nevertheless, as I made my way to school, my thoughts and emotions were churning. I knew I would have to process fully what had happened, and the problem was, my mind kept skittering away from parts of it whenever I tried to look at it head-on:

Chrissy likes to have her butthole tongued. Great! She’s got a cute, fresh-tasting butthole and I’ll tongue it any time she wants. Or put my finger up. Butt stuff isn’t exactly my big kink, I don’t think, but it makes her happy so it makes me happy. (What if she wants me to fuck her butt? Would it fit? Would it hurt? ... What if she wants to play with my butt? Um, err, hmmm, let’s think about something else.)

Chrissy is a serious exhibitionist. Fine, no problem. Need to find ways to indulge that kink. (But does it mean that she’s less into me? Does she want to show herself to ... to be with other people too? Oh, no, don’t think about that... )

Chrissy is really turned on by imagining Mom seeing us naked. It’s just a fantasy. She feels ... no, we both feel dirty about being caught in the shower, it’s taboo, it turns us on. (We literally masturbated together while pretending that Mom was watching us and masturbating herself. And thinking about my dick in her cunt. Urrrrrrk.)

Chrissy is now aware that Mom and Uncle Rob did stuff when they were younger, and it’s my fault. OK, OK, don’t panic. It’s just a little thing I slipped into the middle of a fantasy, she probably isn’t going to think about it or ask me about it. (I mean, the thing that literally sent her – no, us both – over the edge was when I described Mom comparing my dick to Uncle Rob’s. We both orgasmed to that one vivid image. Oh, shit. Whatamigoingtodo.)

I finally decided that if Chrissy asked about Uncle Rob, I’d just tell her I didn’t know why I thought of it – it was just something I made up in the heat of the moment. I could easily deny any actual knowledge of Mom’s past, because in truth I didn’t actually know anything. Mom had made reference, once, to “playing games” with her siblings. She only said it to make the point that she wasn’t fooled by my lame insistence that there was nothing between Chrissy and me, because she’d done similar things herself. Thinking about it, I calmed down a little. I understood that siblings often went through phases of experimenting with each other; I’d read about it in books, and anyway it was sort of common sense. Obviously when you’re kids you’re curious, you do harmless things like playing doctor, stuff like that. Then you get older, you’re both horny teens, you’re both living in the same house, it’s natural that you might turn to each other. Most of the time, it would be casual and wouldn’t go very far. There’d be boyfriends and girlfriends, sooner or later you’d both fall in love with someone for real, and you wouldn’t need each other to get your rocks off – to put it crudely. Obviously, with Chrissy and me it was different: we were truly in love with each other (I reassured myself), and that was unusual, but naturally it happened sometimes, especially with introverted, not-very-social types like us. But not with Mom and Uncle Rob (and Aunt Thea, I reminded myself). Sure, there had apparently been something very serious going on in Mom’s family, but it wasn’t like Chrissy and me. Our parents weren’t abusive. We had everything we needed. There was nothing really wrong or abnormal in our background - we just ... fell in love with each other. And everything would be all right, we’d make it work somehow.

Nevertheless, I couldn’t shake the feeling that, for better or for worse, the honeymoon period of our relationship was over. We had, for the past couple of months, been completely turned in towards each other, spending almost all of our time, outside of school and the minimal face-to-face interaction that characterized our family, in each other’s company. And like a pair of newlyweds, we’d been spending much of that time discovering each other: and since, having grown up together, we already knew each other’s personalities about as well as two people could, the discovery phase was almost entirely physical. We’d been making love almost every day, often more than once, exploring and experimenting and expanding the bounds of mutual sexual pleasure. But we couldn’t remain, figuratively, locked in the bedroom forever. The rest of the world was still out there. And it would be hostile to our relationship. As socially inept and introverted as we each were, our individual difficulties navigating society would be nothing compared to what we faced if people found out about us. We were going to have to learn how to deal with the world outside our bedroom. Starting with our family. And I wasn’t sure it was a good sign that Chrissy had such exhibitionistic tendencies, when hiding what we were would be so critically important.