Fuck me, she said, the most beautiful words ever uttered, and he dropped his underwear and pushed her legs back hard and spread and pushed his dick in and just couldn’t believe how silky she was, how perfect and hot and soft. He was all the way in and just stayed there.

Keep fucking, she said.

I have to feel this, he said. I just need a moment.

Don’t be a pussy, she said. And don’t come. Just start fucking me.

There was something about the geometry of this, pushing her legs back at forty-five-degree angles, how she was exposed and flat, facing the ceiling, and he was coming in at this angle. Something about watching was as good as feeling.

Fuck me, damn it.

He pulled out slowly, feeling the soft slide, and she was tight around him, gripping him, and then he pushed back in, pushed in as deep as he could, felt his tip bump into the back wall.

Aah, she said. Yeah. He pulled out again, all the way out, and it felt good to enter again, so he just did that, just the tip, an inch or so in, and kept pulling out.

Yeah, she said.

I can’t feel my feet anymore, he said. I can hardly feel my legs.

Shut up, she said.

Then he plunged all the way in again, ground his hips against hers, rocked around in a circle. My crown chakra is totally open. Oh my god. I can feel this all along my spine.

Shut up. I’m serious. I hate the sound of your voice.

So he tried to shut up, but he just couldn’t. I feel so aligned, he said. He pushed in harder, started moving faster, and he could feel himself tightening throughout his body, golden strings from every limb, from the top of his head and all along his spine, being pulled into his balls.

I’m fucking you, he said. I’m fucking you hard now.

Uh, uh, uh, she was saying.

He looked over and saw his mother on the stairs. Watching him.

He stopped moving, and this made everything gather and his dick started pulsing and he knew he was going to come. He couldn’t stop it now. He pulled out and came in jerks onto Jennifer while he looked at his mother. He couldn’t stop his mouth from opening in a fuck-grimace, couldn’t hold back the moaning. His mother seeing his face like this.

Uh, Jennifer said. I’m not done, damn it. Get down on your knees and lick. I’m not done yet.

Galen’s mother stepped back down the stairs, her sound covered by the Cars, and he got on his knees and licked. His come all over her belly, the smell of it, and he was still twitching. Jennifer grabbing his head and humping it. Difficult to keep his tongue in the right place, but he did his best. She wrapped her thighs around his head, mashing his ears, and he couldn’t hear a thing. Just struggling to keep his tongue out there and finally she bucked and yanked at his head as she came.

He pushed her thighs apart and managed to free his head. She had her eyes closed, head curled to her shoulder, her hands on her crotch. Her breasts so perfect and beautiful, all the soft lines of her, and he felt very sad, because he knew he’d never get to do this again. His mother would stop it from happening. He didn’t know what she’d do, but she’d do something. She would certainly do something. So he took a last look, ran his hands along the soft skin of Jennifer’s thighs.

Aah, Jennifer was saying. Aah. She was stroking herself with both hands, prolonging it, and she wasn’t being all that quiet. Galen wondered whether his grandmother could hear these sounds over the music.

He stood there and looked down at his dick, hard still. He wanted to put it in, wanted to feel her again, so he did that.

Yeah, she said. Yeah.

Silky was the only word for it. He moved slowly, feeling every moment, and he put his hands on her breasts, last time he’d have them in his hands, and he felt so sad. She was mean to him, but he loved her. Loved her unconsciousness, her roughness in the world, loved her selfishness. And she was out of his league, of course. If she weren’t his cousin, he’d never have had a chance. She was the luckiest he would ever get.

He lay down on her, and she let him. She wrapped her arms around his back, and that felt unbelievably good. He felt loved. He kissed her neck and held her hips in his hands while he pushed in as far as he could, and he could feel her building again, a panting in her breath and tightening all along her back and thighs, clinging to him. He wanted it never to end, wanted her always to cling to him like this, but then she came, tightening around him, pulsing, jerking, and moaning from deep in her throat.

Oh, she said. Oh. And then she was pushing up at his chest, pushing him off. I can’t breathe, she said. Get off me.

So he pulled out and rolled to the side on the bed, his feet on the floor. The end. He closed his eyes and tried to record everything, tried not to forget or lose a single moment. He wanted to relive this, even now. He wanted to preserve all of it.

Shh, Jennifer said and sat up abruptly. I think I hear something, she whispered. Someone might be back. She grabbed the roll of toilet paper off his nightstand and wiped away his come. Disgusting, she said.

She yanked down her shirt, pulled on her panties and sweatpants in a flash, and then asked him if there was anything on her face.

No, he said, and he lay back down and she left.

Samsara. And yet Galen knew he would spend every day like this, for the rest of his life, if he could. He would choose it above transcendence. Transcendence was only a consolation prize for those who couldn’t find good enough samsara.

The Cars were still crooning, but it was too sad now. He couldn’t bear it. So he clicked the tape recorder off, and now he could hear dishes in the kitchen.

He lay on his bed, thinking perhaps this was the prophet he was meant to be, the prophet who would free everyone from religion and send them back to bed for more sex. The prophet who would expose the sham of transcendence. But he knew this was only the boner thinking. It was still there, with no signs of fading. A sad reminder of what Galen had just had and would never have again.

What surprised him most was that he really did love her. She was the most unlikable person, but he loved her anyway. He didn’t understand how that had happened. His first love, no longer a virgin. But why couldn’t he have fallen in love with someone who wasn’t his cousin, or someone who was nice to him? And what was it about sex that increased his love for her? He felt so vulnerable now, his chakras all wide open, exposed. The thought that he would never be with her like that again felt so heavy he began to cry. He buried his face in his pillow and sobbed as quietly as he could, and he felt how unfair the world is to those who truly love.

Chapter 16

The chicken and dumplings. Finally arrived. The stew pot on the stove, lid open, and Galen loved the fluffy white dumplings floating on the surface like clouds. Pure and white, browned along their edges and peaks. He lifted one carefully with the serving spoon onto his plate. The underside slick with gravy. The entire stew a thick gravy with chicken and potatoes, carrots and onions, and he heaped his plate. This is what he would have instead of Jennifer. Food.

He couldn’t look at Jennifer, couldn’t look at his mother. All of them crammed at that small yellow table, and he kept his eyes on his food.

You’ve done yourself proud, Mom, Galen’s mother said. But there was no real cheer behind her voice.

I don’t know, his grandmother said. Something doesn’t seem quite right. But I can’t remember, of course, what it should be. I can’t remember anything. Sometimes I wish I could just die. I hate not remembering anything.

Mom, Galen’s mother said. Don’t say that.

Yeah, Grandma, Galen said. It tastes great. It’s just like before. And this was true. He was savoring the rich gravy and chicken, the onions and potatoes turned almost to mush after stewing all day.