Cassandra's Secret

Cassandra reached back and grabbed my penis. I was hard, of course, and a little ashamed that what she was telling me turned me on. She rubbed me lightly against her buttocks.

“So I’ve had sex with lots of guys, but you and Carson are the only two who ever took me like that.”

“One night we were on the couch again. I was on his lap and he was inside me and my Mom walked right past us on her way to the bathroom. She looked right at us, but just kept walking. It was dark, but I’m sure she would have seen us if she’d been fully awake. It scared the hell out of me. But the fear of getting caught only made it more intense. She never found out, though.”

“So, at the end of the week, Carson just left. I gave him a blowjob in the car on the way to the train station, and I haven’t seen him since then. He hasn’t written or called. I sent him a postcard saying that me and Mom moved so he could have our new address, but I don’t even know if he got it. I don’t even know if I’d want to talk to him or see him, after what happened between us.”

Cassandra fell silent again for awhile, rubbing back against me slowly.

“After that, I was a mess,” she said. “I couldn’t even think of being with anybody else. My mind was blown. I was glad when Mom got a job here, and we could move. Suddenly, it seemed like I couldn’t face anyone who knew me. A new town meant a new start. Still, I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. Until I met you.”

She turned to look at me. I could feel the weight of her gaze even in the darkness of the tent.

“You’re so much like him,” Cassandra said. “It’s scary. You don’t really look like him, except you both have brown hair and blue eyes. But you have the same strange sense of humor, and you both treat me with the same . . . kindness. And sexually, it’s weird, you like all the same things. You’re both so oral and your penis is just like his. The same size, and you know that little freckle you have on the head? He had one in the exact same place. I almost freaked when I saw you had it too. Even your names sound alike. Carson, Christian. And I love you like I loved him, only it’s different because you’re not him and you’re not my brother, but still it reminds me of all that and that’s why I’m such a fucking basket case around you.”

This all came out of her in a breathless rush, and then she started crying again. I held her while she cried, still unable to speak.

“Do you hate me?” she said after a while.

“No,” I said. “Of course not.”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes,” I answered. “Very much.”

“What else?”

“What do you mean?”

“What else do you feel for me?” she asked. “Right now. At this moment.”

I didn’t know how to answer that. It was such a confusing swirl of emotion. I was a little afraid, a little revolted. She was right, I could feel the monstrosity of the broken taboo. And yet I was aroused, so much so I almost couldn’t bear it. And I was ashamed of my arousal, ashamed that what had happened to her should make me feel like this. And I was a little jealous, too, that she had been that way with anyone else. I had never felt jealous of any of her other past lovers, had always enjoyed hearing about her exploits. But the intensity of what had passed between her and her brother threatened me. I couldn’t think of way to articulate all this, though.

“Nothing else,” I said finally. “Just love.”

Cassandra nodded. “Then make love to me,” she said. “Don’t fuck me. Make love. I’ll be able to tell the difference.”

She rolled onto her back and I entered her. Together we moved as slowly as the earth rotating beneath us.

“Come inside me,” she said as eternity tilted towards dawn. “I’m not his anymore. I’m yours. And you’re mine. Forever.”

“Yes,” I said. It was all I could say.