Human Sister

had cautioned me to respect Elio’s privacy and not force a resolution of whatever was troubling him.
    We had a snack at the gym café, then walked back home in a light rain. He became quiet and withdrawn as we approached his apartment building. I followed him into his bedroom. He went to the window, parted the thin, white curtain, and stared out. I waited, filled with hushed expectancy, feeling certain that he wanted to take us somewhere new but was hesitant to make the turn—would it be right or left?—into the remainder of our lives.
    “I’ve wanted to tell you something for a long time,” he finally said, still looking through the rain-spotted window, “but I’ve been so afraid. I can’t lose you. No matter what, I can’t lose you.” He pulled the curtain shut, though he continued facing it. “I thought I had it all under control after last summer. But then I saw you come out of Customs, and you hugged—”
    He seemed to choke. I wanted, wanted so very much, to run to him, put my arms around him, and say, Tell me.
    Then he turned slowly away from the gray window streaked with rain and, appearing strangely determined, walked toward me. As he neared, I raised my arms up over his shoulders and around his neck.
    He caressed my back. I felt drawn to him, as if every cell of my body were being tugged toward him, with the cumulative effect being irresistible. He pressed the side of his head against the side of mine and said, “I love you.”
    I felt myself melting into him. He softly kissed my lips. A wave of joy and excitement rushed through me with such force that I seemed to lose my bearings, and I shuddered as the nearly invisible hairs on my arms and legs became erect.
    Evidently misinterpreting my shudder, he let loose his arms, saying, “I’m sorry.”
    “I love you, too,” I said, holding on to him. “I’ve felt my love for you growing for years. Now, I know you love me the same way.”
    He looked confused.
    “Do you want me to take off my clothes?” I asked.
    His face brightened, and he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled my body firmly against his. He licked my lips, and when I laughed with pleasure, his tongue darted into and playfully searched inside my mouth. Again, the strange, new feeling of weakness came over me, as if my body had become the wavering image of itself on an undulating surface of a pool.
    His hands seemed to know their way inside my clothes, where, like a cat pressing itself wavelike into a petting hand, my body moved instinctively and appreciatively to greet his caresses.
    He took off my shirt, then his, and we again embraced. Nothing had ever felt as good to me as his skin felt then against mine. I felt happy and free. His erection pressed against my pelvis, where a strange, warm luster was spreading, and there was dampness, as if from sweat, between my legs. Then, kissing my open mouth while holding us firmly together, he pressed us over to and onto his bed.
    My body arched to stay in touch with his, but as he finished undressing us, my consciousness flittered briefly away. I saw Grandpa’s face. He was in his study. It was the morning he’d devoted to my sex education. I heard him say “floods of neuromodulators,” “reprogramming,” “acquire new interests.” A brief panic raced through me and burst into consciousness as a question: Will I lose my love for Grandpa? Michael? My studies?
    “I love you. I need you,” Elio whispered as he kissed and caressed me. He rolled onto his side, and I followed, pushing him onto his back, then eagerly exploring his body, once a familiar boy’s, now hard and fragrant and thrillingly strange.
    He rolled me over onto my back and positioned himself directly on top of me—his arms stretching mine to the sides, our fingers interlocking, his mouth and mine becoming one. Then he parted my legs and sat up between them. He caressed the insides of my thighs; then he raised my knees up along his sides and looked at me, breathing heavily.
    “I want you so much,” he said.
    He lowered himself down and kissed me. “Please let me make love to you. I’ll make it feel real good for you, I promise.”
    “I’ll enjoy anything that makes you happy,” I said.
    He kissed me and raised himself back up. He guided his penis to my vagina and pushed, going only part way in. He withdrew slightly, then pushed in a little farther, withdrew slightly, over and over. It felt as though something I didn’t control resisted him, but