Her glass was half-empty before she finally got to the point. “What you said the other night, in my room. Is it true?”
“Teri, I was drunk. A lot drunker than I should have been. I don’t even remember everything I said.”
“I don’t believe you, Travis. You didn’t beat around the bush at all. Is it true?”
“About girls enjoying it?”
She nodded.
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure it is. After hearing you and Mom talking about it, I was kind of scared that Mom was right, so I had a heart-to-heart with my girlfriends from the last year. They swear they love it, and I believe them.”
“All of it?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“Maybe not all of it. Courtney used to say she loved my coming in her mouth. When I asked her about that, she admitted she doesn’t like the taste at all, but she likes doing it for me, because it excites her to be able to pleasure me that much. As far as the regular sex goes, yeah, they like it a lot. I don’t think they could fake the way they react. They love when I go down on them; I’m sure they couldn’t fake that.”
“You . . . you do that? To them?”
I could feel myself blushing. “Yeah, I do. A lot. They love it, and I love to have them come for me, and it gets them so excited for the rest of it.”
She looked like she was going to break into tears. “I hate it Travis. I hate the way it hurts. I get nothing out of it. Is there something wrong with me? Is it because of my accident? Did something break inside of me?”
God, I’d never thought of that, or if it was even possible. That damn accident, still playing such a huge role in her life. “I don’t know, sis. Honestly, I don’t know that much about it. Half-a-dozen girls, and only the last couple really got into it. I heard what Mom told you. I don’t think she’s right.”
“Aunt Brenda says the same thing. I have to learn to put up with it. Mom’s trying to teach me how.” She blushed deeply, and took another long sip, draining her glass.
“Teaching you? How?” I asked, curious. I know, it’s kind of warped, but I cared. Really. She was my baby sister, I was responsible for her, had been for years.
She couldn’t look me in the eye. “How to get prepared ahead of time, getting used to having something in me. How to shut down my thoughts, think of something else. How . . . how to act like I enjoy it.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing in Mom’s room?” I asked, draining my beer. It was a bizarre image, her and Mom.
“Yeah. It doesn’t hurt so much, once I have enough of that goop in me, and if we do it slow.” She was playing with her empty glass, sucking on an ice cube. She didn’t seem drunk, but it looked like it was hitting her.
She looked up. “Can I have another of these?” she asked, waving her glass.
“There’s a lot of booze in those. Maybe one more small one.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “I couldn’t taste nothing in that last one. Did you make it weak on purpose? Like I can’t handle it? I’m eighteen, Travis. I’ve had a drink before. I’m not a little girl.”
I made her another one, the same as the first. It didn’t seem to have hit her too hard. Maybe she had a better tolerance, or they weren’t as strong as I remembered.
Once she’d had a sip of her new drink, she stretched out on the couch, her feet in my lap. “How do you know your girlfriends like it? That they’re not just faking it, like Mom says.”
I sighed. This was a lot more personal than I wanted to get. “There’s lots of ways to tell.”
“Like what?”
So I explained, what Rachel had shown me. All the signs. Hard nipples, moist pussy, flushing, the involuntary responses, the trembling, the shallow breathing, the sweet little sounds that escaped her lips. I took my time describing it for her, how they responded to what I did to them, watching them climb the peaks of their excitement. How they acted when they came for me. When I looked up at Teri, I smiled. “Like that,” I said with a nod to her chest.
She was wearing a diaphanous top and her nipples were hard. She looked down and covered herself with her arm. “I’m cold,” she said.
“No, Teri. Your face is flushed, your nipples are hard. I bet if you felt between your legs, you’d be wet. You’re not frigid. The guys you’ve been with were jerks. They didn’t know what they were doing, didn’t know how to get you worked up.” I felt bad for her, and rubbed her bare feet in my lap. “Tell me about it, OK? I’m not going to judge you or anything. Just tell me. How did it happen?”
She shrugged. “Like everyone else I suppose, at first.”
“What is ‘like everyone else’?”
Maybe it was the booze, or maybe it was time. She finally opened up to me. “You know. We kissed some. He put my hand on his zipper, and made me rub it. He pulled it out, and I moved my hand up and down. He grabbed my head and pulled it down, sticking his dick in my mouth just before he blew up, holding me there until he was finished. It was nasty, but I tried to block it out, and breathed through my nose, until it was gone.”
“God, what an asshole,” I muttered.
She shrugged. “He stayed mostly hard, feeling me up under my clothes, while holding my head down. He was kinda rough. I could feel him get harder in my mouth. It smelled pretty bad, and I really wished he’d let me up so I could wash that crap out of my mouth.”
She was staring off into space, telling it like it happened to somebody else, sipping from her drink. “He told me to get in the back seat. He was my boyfriend, and I knew what he expected. I know it’s what the other girls did, so I climbed in the back. Kyle got out and got in the back door. He had his dick out, stroking it. I watched him roll a rubber over it, so there was no doubt what he was going to do. He put one of my legs over the back of the seat, and the other one over the front seat. I was kind of scared, but I knew it was what he wanted, what girlfriends did. He pushed my skirt up, and pulled my panties to the side. Then he was pushing that thing in me, and it hurt, Travis. It hurt a lot. But he just kept pushing until he was in me.”
“Was he too big?” I asked. Maybe that was the problem.
“I don’t know. I don’t know how big they’re supposed to be. It wasn’t huge or anything. Smaller than a banana, I guess.” She took another long sip, to get her courage up. “Then he was leaning over me, grunting, pushing it in me for a couple of minutes. He . . . he called me names, ugly names, and then scrunched up his face, pushing hard before he pulled out. That was it. Sex. What everyone talked about. I hated it.”
Small surprise. What a jackass this Kyle was. He and I would be having a talk, that much I was sure of.
My sister was sitting there, feet pulled in, knees curled up to her chest. I could see the tears running down her face. Tears from Teri. Tears I hadn’t seen in years. I took the drink from her, lifted her into my lap and held her. She tucked her head into my shoulder and cried. “Is it my fault? Did I do something wrong? I let him do whatever he wanted, Travis. Three more times, but it never got any better. I even let him stick it in my bottom. That really hurt, but I didn’t cry. I let him do it. Aren’t I a good girlfriend?”
I gave her a hug. “It’s not your fault, Teri. The guy’s a complete ass. That’s not how you treat a girlfriend. He didn’t take care of you at all, didn’t concern himself with your pleasure. Damn it, Teri! You don’t let a guy do whatever he wants, even if he’s your boyfriend. If he doesn’t treat you right, you stop him. He used you, like a complete bastard. All guys aren’t like that. Geez – I hope that most guys aren’t. It’s no surprise you didn’t like it.”
I wiped her tears away, and brushed her hair back. “Rachel says that there’s a few reasons a girl might not like it. They’re not ready for it, the guys doesn’t know what he’s doing, or some women need a lot of attention and time getting warmed up before enjoying it. Some women find it more difficult to find pleasure. I guess your problem with the asshole is all three. I’m sorry it was lousy for you. You need to dump that jerk, and find a better guy.”