matter how much I tried to avoid David, we kept running into each other.

More than once I would go to a club with Glenn and David would be there too. After dancing and

drinking, we would always end up together in my apartment, my hands on his dick as we woke up. Glenn

would now make some insinuating jokes about the situation which totally stressed my out because I was

afraid that all our friends and other people we knew would gossip about me. Every time some one in our

group of friends looked at me I thought: “Now they’re thinking about what a pervert I am. They know

that there’s nothing on my mind other than wanting to have sex with my brother.”

Over the year, I felt worse every time David slept over and we were ‘almost’ making out. The last time

he’d been there the atmosphere had been so tense that it was hard to breathe. David had been over to

watch some old Battlestar Galactica episodes and while we were watching he complained that his neck

hurt.

“I’ve been behind my desk all week,” he said.

“You’ve got an exam coming up?” I asked. He nodded.

“Do you want me to give you a shoulder rub?” I asked.

“That would be great,” he said while he tried to keep a straight face. I knew he wanted me to touch him.

I’d started massaging his shoulders, which were tense. I didn’t actually know what I was doing but it felt

nice to touch him like that. I was sitting on the couch and he was sitting on the floor in front of me.

“I’ll take my shirt off,” he said and after he did I could feel his hot smooth skin beneath my hands. He

had broad muscular shoulders and I was really kneading his back with my hands.

“I’m thinking about getting a tattoo,” he said. What do you think?”

“That would look good on you,” I said as I worked my way down to the small of his back.

“You’re really fucking good as this massaging thing,” he said. “Don’t stop.”

I was working his pliant skin, feeling the muscle ripple beneath the surface when he moved to lean even

closer to me. His skin was warm and he smelled like the aftershave Juliette had bought him for his

birthday mixed with male pheromones. It was hard not to think of how great it would be to feel that skin

against my own; impossible even. My jeans felt uncomfortably tight and the air in the room seemed hotter

than usual. I had trouble remembering how to breathe. After a while I just couldn’t take it anymore. I was

so horny that I had to stop.

“You should be going home if you have to study in the morning,” I said hoarsely.

“I’m not going home,” he said resolutely. “We can both sleep in your bed.”

“It’s not a good idea,” I tried. “It’s so tiny, we won’t get enough sleep.”

“I’m not that tired anyway,” he said.

There was an awkward silence as we got up and walked to my bedroom. I kicked off my shoes and

stripped of my jeans but kept on my T-shirt. He took off his shoes and jeans too and his T-shirt as well. I

got a good look at his muscular, hairless chest and the smooth skin of his belly. I didn’t want to look at his

boxer shorts because I was afraid that the sight of his dick filling out his short would really drive me

crazy. I dimmed the light. We both got in to my bed and I pulled up the blanket so that we were both

covered. The bed was so narrow that we were really crammed together and this time we were not drunk

like usual. He nestled himself against me.

“You see it’s not too tiny,” he said softly. “I’m really quite comfortable.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not,” I said.

“Bullshit, you’re comfortable enough too,” he snickered.

He started stroking my chest underneath my T-shirt. My heart was pounding in my chest just beneath his

hand.

“Can you turn around?” I asked. He did and he pressed his ass against my crotch. I was so hard I

couldn’t help but push myself against him. He let me dry-fuck him through his shorts for a while. We were

both breathing heavy. Then he reached behind himself and put his hand on my dick below the sweaty

blankets. I pushed against his hand. I was totally freaking out but I wanted to come in his hand so badly.

“Don’t,” I said, but when he didn’t stop I said nothing else. I didn’t really want him to stop anyway. He

moved his leg up and folded it across my legs. I could feel the hair on his leg brush against mine.

He slid his warm hand in my boxer shorts and enclosed it around my dick. The feel and the pressure of

his fingers was enough for me to come all over his hand and my boxer shorts, while I was trying not to

moan. I was trembling all over after I came. I didn’t dare to move. David removed his sticky hand from

my shorts and started beating himself off with my come on his fingers. He came within seconds too, crying

out in a muffled voice.

We didn’t sleep at all that night, but just laid there next to each other, both scared shitless.

The next morning we tried to act like nothing had happened. Everything was so stupid and pointless

because we both knew that we would eventually really have sex if we kept going down this road. Things

were spiraling out of control for me and the only thing I could think of was getting away from David as far

as possible. At this point my application to the Master in French law program was my savior.

PART 3 PARIS

12. Alone in Paris

We carefully avoided each other again for weeks. This time it wasn’t just me. David must have felt that

we had crossed a line too. But then he started dropping by again and the tension between us was so thick

you could cut it with a knife.

But I had applied for the dual Master program the year before and luckily for me a few months later I

was off to France. It felt like an escape and I was more than relieved that I had a good excuse to leave

New York for a long while.

I didn’t even go home before I left to say goodbye to my family, I told them that I was too busy with

planning everything and couldn’t fly back to Fresno. They were all very upset about this but they forgave

me eventually.

I didn’t say goodbye to David in person either. He knew that I was planning to go to France and he was

very unhappy about it. When the date of my departure was drawing near, he was sad and he would sit on

my couch looking melancholy. I didn’t tell him the exact day I was leaving because I didn’t want to see

him crying. When he called to see me before I left, I was already on the plane. I knew that he must have

felt like I ripped out his heart, because that’s how I felt, but I wanted to cut all ties with him before it was

too late.

I landed in Paris on my own, with only a large suitcase and a backpack to accompany me. I would stay

in France for a little over two years.

One of my dad’s acquaintances owned apartment that I could rent near the metro station “La

Motte-Picquet Grenelle” in the 15th arrondissement. It was located on the Left Bank of the river Seine in a

residential neighborhood. In the morning I just needed to walk five minutes to get to the metro and I would

read my French newspaper while I waited at the station. I loved the neighborhood although it had no

major sites to speak of. For experiencing actual living in Paris, with all its local cafes, groceries and

shops, this was the place to be.

My new home was a tiny one-room apartment but it had its own kitchen and a miniscule bathroom. I

found two neat second hand chairs and a large framed mirror at the big flea-market "Le marché aux puces

de Saint-Ouen", to brighten up the place. I dragged them all the way back home in the metro and hauled

them up the stairs since I didn’t have an elevator.