I know that Judy can be a pain in the ass. Hell, I grew up with her. But that's not why it happened. Paul and I met in a bathroom, I'm almost ashamed to admit. I was, well, young. He was older, but we went to the same school. I had just had a fight with Judy..like most younger brothers do with their older sisters. My folks just let us fight. To this day, I remember hearing my father tell Mom, "let them work it out". So I knew I couldn't count on them to help me out. She picked on me for being, living, breathing.....and it was a shame. Because, I liked her. She was older, wiser, had friends, went out on dates, was a big deal in high school. I was a freshman, awkward, kind of brainy, and a nerd. Judy wasn't the only one who called me that either. Many years later, I can smile about it, because this nerd is quite wealthy, happy, successful and pretty well respected in the computer world. And even Judy is proud of me. But back then, she called me the cold sore in her life. I guess I was in my second year of high school. You know how those years are. Your crotch keeps demanding attention..and you gladly give it all the attention you can give...cause it feels fucking great! And it's confusing too. Even squash got me excited by then. And those dreams....wow. I'd wake up at three o'clock in the morning, sweaty, out of breath and realizing I had screamed or yelled out a name in the middle of the night. Then I worried who heard me...let alone what name I called out. There was Bradley, a jock in my gym class. His body had developed well beyond his years and I thought he was amazing...like those bodies I saw in muscle magazines. Dad was thrilled I took an interest in body building even though I stayed pretty srawny. It was years later he probably realized why. Anyway, Judy and I had a scream match that pissed me off and hurt me. I did like her...admired her..and wished she wanted me around. But Judy didn't want me. She even wished I had never been born. To this day, I remember her saying it. And even though I know she was just going through a female hormonal tornado at the time, it still hurts remembering her telling me that. We fought about something, I dont' know what. My parents ignored my pleas for intervention and I was pissed off at them too. So I stormed out of the house, flush with anger. The cool night helped...and the more I walked away from where Judy was, the more I calmed down. The night air was cool but with wisps of warm air mixed. It was summer in Chicago..a confusing time for weather as well as for me. There were several parks along the lake and I wandered through one of them. The sight of the cinderblock house in the center of nowhere beckoned me. It would be better then taking a leak by a tree I thought. The stench was horrible. But I had to use the john and emptied my bladder. Paul, I didn't know his name at the time, suddenly appeared and stood in front of the urinal beside me. He had ignored the many others there. We were alone. "You ok?" he asked and then added "you look angry". Hell I had to talk to someone, and I spilled my guts to him. He sympathised and listened. He told me I was right, I had a right to be pissed off, that my sister must be a bitch. And then he put his hands on my shoulder. I shuddered. Nobody had ever comforted me that way. I cried. And I was in his arms, feeling foolish but crying nevertheless. I cried because my sister didn't love me the way I loved her, my parents didn't seem to care what was going on, my fears about being queer complicated things and everything else that a teenager goes through. He kissed me on the cheek and then my mouth. And I was suddenly kissing like I saw men and women do on television. My mind raced, rationalized, questioned and tried to label what we were doing.
But my gut was on fire, my dick was hard, my lips hungry and my body thrilled. Paul's hands were inside my shirt and pants. Mine were inside his. We moved to the back stall and with our shirts and pants wide opened, we fumbled until we found ways to enjoy each other. I ran away, pulling my pants up and buttoning my shirt so my buttons didn't allign with my button holes. I wasn't ashamed, I was scared. My underwear was wet with the sperm Paul and I had expelled. I loved it..but didn't know what it was. I finally slept..and dreamed of other boys I knew and Paul's face was now a part of these dreams. Judy's dates rarely came into the house. But one night he did. And I turned so red that even my folks commented on it. Paul was standing there in a tuxedo holding the obligatory flowers as he waited for Judy to make her entrance down the stairs. It was their prom. And I felt like the jilted lover. Paul, too was stunned. He ignored me, not even looking in my direction after our seeing each other. He stumbled as he and Judy left. My Dad laughed and talked about teenagers, proms and other stuff that made Mom laugh too. But in my mind was the sight of an almost naked Paul, introducing me to the world I feared I was a part of. If you think that was horrible, imagine how I felt standing at their wedding years later. I was a senior by then and Judy was pregnant. Paul and she were in college but obviously had been spending nights together. We tried to act like everything was normal..but my folks were ashamed. It was back when getting pregnant wasn't considered the right thing to do. I handed Paul the ring.By then he had become friendly with me..even calling me little brother. We never spoke of our meeting years before. I was civil but jealous. Judy's pregnacy resulted in so many fights with Paul that he would leave the apartment they shared and come to our house to talk to the folks. One night, there was only me. And Paul came to talk to me. As I said, I know that Judy can be a pain in the ass. Hell, I grew up with her. That was when I told Paul that after a fight with Judy I had gone to the park. He remembered and we laughed a bit. His hand on my leg seemed to start the process of us both taking up where we had left off. Naked, sweaty and sharing our frustrations with Judy, our need for each other and the raging hormones we spent the night together in my room. In the same bed where I had fantasized about so many boys and men, I had fulfilled fantasies that men, both straight and gay, have had for centuries. My folks knocked on the door and I yelled out that Paul was crashing for the night. They ignored the noises we made and we made love all night. Carnius was the name they gave their boy. Paul demanded that I be the god father despite Judy's objections. Then Judy found out. But instead of yelling, calling me names or stabbing me with a knife, she sat on my bed and said she had always known. I didn't know if she meant Paul or me at the time. I cried and apologized.......probalby for the years of arguments...as well as for sleeping with her husband. She and I became close....a common enemy, our parents finding out about our decandent existance seemed to make us the bother/sister companions our parents had always hoped we'd be. They were even shocked when I moved in with Paul and Judy so I could go to the same college. I baby sat my godson, I went shopping with my sister and slept with my brother in law. OK, it was odd...maybe even sick..but the four of us got through a few years with this relationship without anyone finding out. They graduated and went on as graduate students. That was lucky for me, because I had a place to live and a man to fuck. And I even had the sister I had always wanted. That was years ago. I remember it so well because last week I sat on a metal chair watching my godson graduate from high school. Carnius looked so young up there in his black robe and smiling among his just as young friends. Judy, sitting beside me was crying...like most mothers do. Her divorced husband, Paul was there too and just as proud. Andy, my lover was with me still uneasy about the whole thing. He still calls it incest..but it wasn't of course. Paul and I kissed hello in front of the hundred teenagers and Judy laughed. Andy blushed and Carnius turned away as if he didnt' know us. Judy and I talk daily....she bitches about men and I bithch about Andy. Paul? We dont' talk about him much. He's married with two kids and living two thousand miles away. And during one drunken phone call, he admitted he's been hanging out at the bathroom in the park. But thanks to Paul, I have my sister...and in a way I have Andy too. And I have memories. Carnius will have his own in time too.