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'Got to get voice mail soon.' he thought 'Damn machine is about to give up.' Anything to keep the import of his mother's plaintive message from his thoughts.Seven years. Seven years since he had set foot in his parent's home, the house he grew up in. Memories assaulted his mind, unbidden and unwanted but uncontrollable. He had vowed never to return to that place, to the man who he had once loved but had betrayed him. Yet his mother...her voice struck to his heart. How could he abandon the woman who had guided his life when she needed him?Slowly, in a daze, he threw clothes into a suitcase, left a message of family emergency on his boss's phone and drove blindly into the night. It was a short drive, at least in miles; less than an hour; far longer in subjective time. Years in fact.He arrived at the home of his childhood in the darkness of night. Unfamiliar cars were in the driveway, the front porch lamp illuminating the scene. As he pocketed his keys and locked the car door a man. And his movements were smooth compared to other guys whose dancing seemed all jerky and awkward. My brother really seemed to feel the rhythm. And this has made me blush. Since I take dancing so intimately, the fact that his rhythm was absolutely flowing great with mines, made me wonder what he’s like in bed. In fact for the first time, I wondered if he was even a virgin. I didn’t really want to think about it. I was positive he wasn’t one. Regardless, his easy laid back, rhythmic movements have had a drastic effect on my body. However, although, my body was aching and urging to be one with him, I was feeling some kind of satisfaction just from dancing with him. His hands were touching me. His face was so close. I could smell his body, and from time to time, my breasts would rub against his chest and that felt amazing. Since I was wearing an almost open back dress, I didn’t wear a bra and now was feeling all the benefits from it, as my nipples rubbed against him through the sheer.
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