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I looked up and the dash lights softly lit his face. He looked down at me and quietly whispered “please?” His eyes pleading with me. Luckily mom had the stereo on, so she didn’t hear. I left my hand there and just closed my eyes again. Soon he started slowly moving his hips up, pushing himself into my hand. I swear I even heard him groan. He couldn’t move much or mom would have noticed, so he just barely moved his hips back and forth, grinding against my hand harder and harder. His breathing getting ragged, his heart pounding against my chest. The arm he had wrapped around my shoulders pulled me tight into his chest. His fingers digging into my arm, almost painfully. Just then mom slowed down to pull into the driveway. We were home. My brother jumped up and straightened his pants quick. As soon as we walked through the door, he ran to his room and shut the door. I didn’t see him for the rest of the night. It was another week before mom left us alone to run into town. I was. She looked at me, then at my third double scotch, and said "Drink up... I have to get going." Not thinking about what she had said, I slammed back the third scotch. She grabbed my hand, tossed some money on the bar, and led me out the doors. I honestly can't say what came over me. I had barely finished my third drink in the last ten minutes, but already I felt quite drunk. I also don't know why I went with her so easily, other than the fact that I was still pretty angry at Drew; somewhere in the recesses of my suddenly-drunken mind, an idea of petty revenge was formulating itself. If only I knew. Dana led me to a nearby hotel, and took me up the elevator. I still didn't know who she was, or why she was staying at a local hotel, or why she was taking me there when she knew almost nothing about me. We went into her room, number 616, and she sat me down on the bed. She closed the door, walked over to me, and started undoing my shirt. My groin began to stir. She looked down at.
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