Ever have a secret to hide, and someone else to hide it with? Oh, and that person isn't so sure the secret is such a good thing? Yeah, that's the situation I was in.
It turns out both Emily and Bridget were both a lot drunker than I had realized. So drunk, in fact, that Emily didn't look me in the eye for about a couple days afterwards, and the next time I talked to Bridget, the conversation started with "I had the weirdest drunk dream last night." And since they both realized that I had been pretty much sober at the time, the whole thing must have been my fault.
Finally, about a week after the party, after the four of us (Jim and Emily were still together, I guess he didn't know) had cleaned the entire house, my parents had come home and pretty much figured out what had happened, and I told Bridget that we needed to not see each other anymore, I finally cornered Emily and talked to her about what had happened.
Lisa had dragged my parents to the mall for some 'back-to-school shopping,' so we had a few hours alone. Less than a minute after the car had pulled out of the driveway, I walked upstairs and knocked on Emily's door.
After a minute, the door cracked open, and Emily looked out at me.
"Em, we need to talk."
She opened the door and sighed: "I figured you'd want to."
I walked in her room only a step, not wanting to make her think I was going for a repeat performance. She had crawled back on her bed, and wrapped her arms around her knees.
"Em, what happened between us at the party…"
"Dylan, I don't know what happened…" She began to cry at this.
I was caught off-guard, but my brotherly instincts took over. I sat down on the bed next to her.
"What do you remember?"
"I-I don't know. But Lisa said something about Bridget and I dyking out… and-and I was all messy the next day. Dylan what happened?" She was almost hysterical now, so I rubbed her back a little to calm her down.
"Ok, I'll tell you what I know, ok?"
I walked her through the story, softening the fact she had danced with Bridget in front of half the town, and got to the point where I walked in on Bridget and her. As I told how Bridget had motioned me in, she suddenly looked me in the eyes, as if seeing me for the first time.
"So I came in, and started to go down on you." It felt more than a little weird to tell my sister the sexual things I had done to her. But she was remarkably calm about the entire thing, although she was silent until the end, when Bridget and I left the room, and she was passed out on the bed.
After that, I paused for a minute, before starting to speak again:
"Emmy, I had no idea you were both so wasted. I wouldn't have done anything if I'd known. And I know you're really freaked out about the entire thing, so if you want me to forget it ever happened, I will. Like I said, I'm really sorry."
"No, its ok. I only remembered the rec. room, and then Bridget going down on me some. I was really worried because I thought maybe we'd done it in front of everyone. And then I had cum in my pussy and my mouth tasted funny the next morning, so I wasn't really sure what had happened."
I laughed a nervous laugh.
"No sis, I was the only guest at your performance."
Emily seemed to be thinking something over, as if trying to make a decision. Finally her mouth opened.
"I've never done that stuff with a girl before."
"I know, you could tell."
"Was I bad at it?"
"No, you were a quick learner. Bridget said you were better than most of the guys she's had."
Emily blushed deeply at this.
"Listen sis, I'm really sorry about what happened…"
"Dylan, its ok. Somewhere deep down inside, I guess I wanted it to happened. I'm more bothered by the fact I don't remember any of it. That makes me uncomfortable."
"Well, Bridget's a little fuzzy too. And she apologized as well, for putting us in that position."
"Oh ok. Umm, Dylan." She looked me in the eye, working up the courage.
"Was I good? Jim never really seemed to enjoy it when we did it. Am I bad at sex?"
"Em, remember, I've had more girls than Jim, including Bridget, and you were the hottest fuck out of any of them. I don't know what was with Jim."
"Well, maybe it's because he had a small dick." She giggled now. "That was what Bridget and I started talking about before we started dancing. Neither of us was really satisfied by him. And he couldn't lick a pussy either."
"Yeah, Bridget is probably better at it than him."
"I don't know, I can't remember."
"We can call Bridget and find out?" I suggested it as a joke, but Emily froze up a little.
"Sis, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, really. It was a joke."
"No, Dylan, that's the thing. I almost want to. Just so I'd remember."
"You mean, you want Bridget and I…"
"I'm not sure. Is she ok with what happened?"