It was never intended to go this far. Neither of us could have predicted what was to transpire between us. Mikael and I have always had a very close, open relationship. Rarely do we ever act like the typical brother and sister who fight all the time and compete with each other.
I love my brother and have always been a little protective of him. When he was little and fell down, skinning his knee, it was big sis to the rescue. When homework became more difficult as he progressed through school, it was I who helped him along. Though there is only two years between us, at times it feels more.
It probably didn’t help that our parents were not the most attentative. Don’t get me wrong; they were very loving and supportive. They provided for us as best they could. It’s just constant attention and seeing to our troubles was not one of the stronger traits.
I recognized this by the time Mikael was born, so I promised myself to give to him what Mom and Dad couldn’t. Even at that young age, I seemed to have the wisdom of the ages within me. So it was then that I became his closest friend, his confidant, the one he could turn to.
It became commonplace for Mikael and I to stay up late at night in one or the other’s bedroom room talking. The topic of these discussions ranged from school to movies to really anything that captured our minds or that he had questions about.
Upon several occasions, he would ask me about relationships; about how to find a girlfriend, how to treat them, what to say or do, and so on - just your typical growing boy questions. I told him how I liked to be treated and made examples of my own life as well as my girlfriends to give various options.
I even taught him how to kiss. I know – not what a sister is supposed to do, but he has always been rather shy with girls. We even touched on sex a few times. Especially after he had his first wet dream. It was so cute, but that’s a story kept by a big sister. I’d never embarrass him by revealing that episode.
He has grown to trust me. To feel free to come to me with his trouble and know that I will treat him with respect and give him a straight answer. He had tried talking to our parents about certain things, but usually hit a dead end there and came to me for resolution.
That’s why it didn’t faze me when he brought up a very sensitive subject. One that he desperately wanted answers for yet had no one he could turn to. Admittedly, I didn’t now if should have tackled it, but in my usual way, I took it on.
He came into my room long after I had gone to bed and gently woke me. This was not the norm. Usually he wakes me with such a jolt that I feel like killing him rather than helping him. This time he was gentle, careful not to startle me. He had wakened me like this before and remembering the conversations we had afterwards, I knew something was bothering him. I had to be sensitive.
“Rose” he whispered. I barely responded. “Rose – wake up please.”
Stirring a little, I struggled to open my eyes. “wha…what’s up?” I endeavored to say. He waited a few moments, gently stroking my arm, keeping my attention, while I tried to wake out of my deep sleep.
“I need to talk to you about something – it’s important” he softly spoke. I was coming to and was able to keep my eyes open long enough to see the lost look on his face. Now over the hump of slumber and beginning to regain my cognitive senses, I stretched and raised myself up with my hands until I was sitting upright.
Wiping the sleep from my eyes I yawned and shook off the rest of my drowsiness. Looking again at his face, I could tell this chat was going to be big – just not how big.
“What’s up Mikey? What’s wrong?” I questioned him. On any other night, I would have choked him for waking me up this late. But it was Saturday night and I didn’t have anything to do on Sunday so I could sleep in.
“How did your date go tonight with Stephanie?” I queried. By the lowering of his eyes and the sinking of his shoulders, I innocently discovered at least the subject matter of our impending conversation.
“She hates me!” he said. “I think I blew it big time.” He continued almost to the point of tears. He’s such a softy.
“What happened?” I asked and he proceeded to tell me how the date went. How it was nice in the early evening, the dinner and movie they took in and even the period of time they made out at the park. Everything was fine up to then by what I could tell. Then he dropped the bomb.
“We tried to do it tonight” he whispered. My eyes bugged out. NOT what I was expecting to hear coming from my little brother. Sure, he’s a cutie and any girl would be happy to have him as a boyfriend, but we’re still talking about my little brother.
He had my full attention now. He began to describe how he and Stephanie while making out at the park began to touch and fondle each other. He said that things started out slow and turned awkward quickly.
Mikael swore that he did everything that we had talked about in that past about foreplay and trying to take his time, but he is still young and inexperienced. When he kinda glazed over the details about what they did together before trying to have sex, I was a little confused. By all accounts, if he did what he alluded to, she should have been so ready. But when he started to describe what her reaction was like during foreplay, it didn’t make sense.
I wanted to find out more because we have had some serious talks in the past where I did my best to describe just what girls want and need before having sex and he swore he did all that.
He was becoming a little upset so I had to calm him down. He really loved this girl and was so distraught thinking that he has ruined everything that it took some time to calm him down.
When he was able to speak calmly, I asked him to go through step by step and tell me exactly what he did. Perhaps I could find a mistake or something and point it out. He asked where to start, I figured to start from the making out and when the first person touched the other.
He told me about how they were at the park, lying on a blanket. It was dark and they were alone. They started to kiss and he told me how that went. Having kissed him before I knew he had nothing to worry about there.
“So who was the first to do something more than kiss Mike?” I asked.
“I was,” he replied, “I reached down and let my hand rest on her breast.”
“Did she like that?”
“Must have, because she pressed against my hand pretty good.”
Nothing wrong so far. He continued a little while on what he did to her breast as he felt her over her blouse. I caught myself stroking my own as he talked. I don’t think he saw because the only light in the room was that of the moon coming in through my open window. I quickly placed my hands in my lap as a conscience effort to not do it again.
Mikael continued on and told me how when he tried to go up under her blouse and bra, she seemed to stiffen up. I thought at first this might have been just nerves on her part, but the more he described, the more I understood that he was not doing it completely right.
He then rather rapidly went through the rest of the event like he was reciting a 5-minute speech in 10 seconds. All I got out of it was: stuck, pinch, hard and push. What they were related to I couldn’t honestly say but I knew they weren’t good.
From the sounds of it, his youthfulness probably got the best of him and he rushed through the rest of the foreplay. So again, I calmed him down and started to ask questions.
I got him to open up to me and describe in greater detail what he had said. It then became obvious that inexperience kicked in. He told me how he tried to go up under he blouse. He showed me using his hands in the air. From what I witnessed, he was doing it all wrong. I tried to show him what he could have tried using my hands in the air like a mime. It wasn’t getting to him though.
I tried several times, but between not being able to see in the darkness and his emotions, he was getting frustrated, as was I. I didn’t want him to go away mad or more confused.
What I did next was neither a conscience action nor well thought out. I took his hand and while telling him what to do, guided him up under my nightshirt and brought him to rest my own breast. When I placed his palm over my nipple, my hand covered his and began to massage my breast like it should be done. The whole time I was talking like an instructor.
Neither one of us realized what I had done. He was intent on listening to me and learning and I was desperately trying to save his self-confidence.
I continued to speak and it was when I said, “don’t overdue it on one breast,” then repositioning his hand over to the other I continued, “make sure you don’t forget there are two of them” that it dawned on me what I had done.
Perhaps it was the years of close chats and confiding in me that kept him ignorant of what was going on, but he was still so fixated on doing the right thing that I didn’t stop.
I felt his hand now massaging me freely with mine only gently resting on his. I continued to speak in a quite tone, describing what some girls like to have done with their breasts. I’d mention one thing and he tried it. I’d suggest another and he attempted it as well.
With a soft voice, trying to hide the shake in it that was at least noticeable to me, I asked what happened after this with Stephanie.
“We lay down on the blanket and I kept feeling her breast then kissed some more,” he stated. Without a second thought, he lay me down on my bed as he described the scene. Wanting to still discover the errors he must have made to ruin the evening, I followed his lead.
As if he was in a trance, he described his actions and performed them simultaneously on me. I don’t think he realized that he was feeling up his sister. I must admit, he was very good thus far.
