In fact I’d struggle, looking back, to explain exactly what our feelings were. Not least because, as an emotionally repressed family, the expressions of any feelings were not something that came naturally to us.
I was certainly fond of Sally. We felt very comfortable in each others company. And I was, of course, enormously grateful for the opportunities we were having to “research” our burgeoning sexuality together. But I don’t think either of us felt we were in love with each other. Or even infatuated. If anything, long before the term became popular, I would say we were fuck buddies. Whatever our status, it was a situation that suited us both.
In fact, one weekend, in a conversation that was as close to opening up to each as we ever got, Sally articulated that.
“Jack, are you OK with what we’re doing together?” she asked with a pensive, almost pained, look.
It was a question we’d asked of each other before. But I was surprised she’d brought it up again, as I thought we’d established we were both now entirely comfortable with our actions.
“I certainly am,” I assured her swiftly. “I’m delighted with what we are doing. What’s not too like?” I suggested with a smile. “But what about you?” I queried. “I’m just wondering why you asked that, as I thought we were both feeling OK about this.”
“No, I really am OK with it,” Sally confirmed. “I’ve got no misgivings at all about the pleasure we are both giving each other. But, clearly, no-one can find out about us. Which is maybe sad. But there is little we can do to change societal norms. But I guess, at the back of mind, I worry you may start blabbing to people about us. My reputation would be in tatters.”
“I don’t know,” I suggested, “it may enhance your reputation for people to see you’ve ensnared the coolest kid in town,” I said with an ironic laugh. ” But who am I going to brag to about my conquest? I’m hardly likely to tell the boys in school, “hey you know my sister, Sally, she’s a really easy lay.” They think I’m weird enough as it is.”
“Oh, so having sex with me makes you weird,” she teased.
“No,” I laughed in return, “if they knew how gorgeous you were they really might think I was the coolest boy in the school. But having sex with my sister, or even step-sister, certainly qualifies as weird in most people’s books.”
“Of course, I understand that,” Sally agreed immediately. “And that’s the point I was making, or was worried about. Rightly or wrongly, our relationship will always have to remain a secret we keep between ourselves.”
“No, I appreciate that,” I replied, seriously. “In fact, I completely agree. It is sad, but I’m happy just focusing on the fun we’re having together. Plus – and I know we joked about this – but I really do think that by treating this like a tutorial we’ve become much better lovers than we would have if we’d been fumbling about with random people from the town. I really am confident that when we do have these experiences with others we’ll be so much better prepared than we would otherwise have been.”
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