“Oh, God, Joe! That’s it. Jesus ... Harder. Faster!”
I looked up from my homework and rolled my eyes. Joe, my older brother, had what’s-her-name yelling about God and Jesus up in his bedroom again. It was the same every afternoon. Between the time we got home from school and our parents got home from work, Joe took his flavor-of-the-week into his room so they could make animal noises.
It had started in the fall when Joe got his driver’s license and a cheap used car. Once he could drive to and from school, he seemed to become irresistible. Our private school isn’t as big as the local public schools, but it’s big enough to let him have a new girl every week or two for the last six months.
I was too young to drive, too young to date, and never been kissed. That didn’t keep me from thinking about sex, especially with Joe’s afternoon ritual serving as a reminder. And as much as hearing my brother screwing all the time bothered me, it did make me curious about the whole thing.
I took a health class way back before I started my period. The class had explained all the biology involved in reproduction but never answered my burning questions. I’d learned more listening to Joe, disgusting as it was.
Sex obviously felt really good, which had never been stressed in health class. They had talked about sex building up to an orgasm, whatever that was, but no one explained what it actually felt like and I was too embarrassed to ask in front of the class.
My bestie, Bethany, and I had discussed it at length, which led us to internet videos of guys rubbing themselves until they shot their stuff all over the place. And the girls rubbed their vee in circles until they peed or jerked around a little. Watching it made my vee drool, but when I tried rubbing like they did ... nothing big happened. I mean, it felt nice, but nothing like the wild howls and shaky legs I saw in those videos.
I had just returned my attention to my algebra homework when I heard a quiet knock on the front door. Walking over to open it, I found my brother’s best friend Mark waiting. He was all sweaty, only wearing shorts and running shoes.
“Hey, Squirt. Is Joe here?” he asked as he looked over my shoulder.
“Yeah, he’s bangin’ whats-her-name.” Joe smelled good. Not good like cologne. He smelled salty and warm. Sweat dripped down his chest and I had the crazy compulsion to taste it. Gross! Instead, I gave him a long-suffering look and asked, “Wanna drink while you wait for him to finish?”
He chuckled and said, “Sure.”
Mark had never made me nervous before, but there was a little tingle in my stomach as I led him to the kitchen. It was cliche, but I’d had a crush on him for years. Only he was three years older, like my brother, and unreachable. And if anything ever happened, my Dad would have kittens before killing Mark and locking me in my room.
My hands trembled as I opened the fridge. Mark sat on the stool at the kitchen counter next to my homework. The cold air from the fridge made my boobs poke out. Or maybe it was the gaze I felt resting on me as I stood there.
“We’ve only got this,” I said and showed him a bottle of that green sports drink.
“That’s fine. Thanks.”
His eyes dipped to my chest for a second. Perv... It seemed like every guy wanted to peek at how the girls were growing. All ages, from kids to grandpas. They were like nature’s eye magnet.
When I tried to get the plastic cap open, he took it from me to twist it off easily. The muscles in his arms got tight when he did it and made me swallow hard. I kept telling myself it was just Mark. I’d known him most of my life. Why was he suddenly making me feel so stupid?
When he tilted the bottle back to drink, that thing guys have in their throats moved up and down. It hypnotized me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. There was still sweat dripping out of his wet hair and down his neck. And I still wanted a taste. Damn.
“Oh, I needed that,” he said. After crushing the bottle and putting the lid back on, he tossed the remains to me and I caught it easily.
I felt my face heat at his smile and tossed the collapsed bottle in the trash next to the kitchen island.
“Whatever,” I mumbled, trying not to show how messed up he had me.
I sat on the stool next to his and picked up my pencil. I was close enough to smell him again. He looked down at me with a brotherly smile and mussed my pale blonde hair. That sent a shiver down my back and made the hairs stand up on my arms.
Mark noticed my reaction and his easy smile faded a touch. He cleared his throat and let out a sigh.