Keep Me Warm

It's cold out, zero degrees fahrenheit, unusually cold for February, and the old furnace finally gave out last night before bed. My brother, Robby, called the repairman but he can't come until morning. The wind is blowing hard, smashing the branch of the tree against my window, the sound and the cold is making it impossible to sleep. I was tossing and turning trying to get warm, this is the coldest I've ever been my entire life! I wish I was in bed with my brother. I'm not supposed to sleep in bed with my brother, my parents tell me I'm too old, but this has got to be an exception to the rule.

I crawl into bed and he predictably scoots over for me, just like he used to do, and I snuggle in close to his warm body. My brother smells different than he used to, a sort of stink that comes off of man's skin, not boy's. I lean in close to his bare back and smell him, not quite like Daddy's smell, and it felt like I was in bed with a strange man. I closed my eyes and daydreamt about being in a strange home, with a strange man, and embracing him, his strong arms around me, and I look up into his eyes, and wait-- is it possible to daydream at night, or is it just plain dreaming? If anyone would know the answer to this question, it's my brother so I lightly tap on his shoulder, "Robby.." He answers me with an annoyed grunt. "Can you daydream at night?" Robby told me to go to sleep, his voice was annoyed, it's oftentimes annoyed sounding around me, but I don't know why.. I am just a curious girl, doesn't make me bad, after all, asking questions is how a person learns! Imagine if all the curious people of the world didn't ask questions, didn't research, didn't do anything but keep their own annoying inquisitive mouths shut! I was just about to enlighten him with my thought when he turned around nose-to-nose with me, he said "the repairman will be here in just a couple hours, in the morning, try to get some sleep Blair." He must've felt bad about his tone, I smile at his sweetness, and then I think about the smell of his breath, I liked the smell of it-- it wasn't exactly a clean scent, but a unique scent and it was laced with mom's peppermint toothpaste. I wondered if my own breath had a unique scent, unique like a fingerprint, the idea of that made me smile. I rubbed my hands through his chest hair. Oh wow.. chest hair, just like Bradley Cooper in that romance movie with the blonde, what's it called? My brother doesn't look like Bradley Cooper, he looks like my brother, he's still handsome but in a different way, he's entirely different now that he's back from college, all grown up.

I saw his penis once when we were younger, it was pretty big back then, I wonder if it's even bigger now that he's all grown up? I touch my foot next to his, to see if he's still annoyed with me. He doesn't move his feet away from mine, even though I know full well that my feet are as cold as ice blocks. Why is it that feet get so cold? Hands too? Is it because they're all the way down there, a long way away from the heart? Does my brother's penis get cold? It does hang away from his body, it only makes sense, to me, that a penis would get cold. I had better ask, and I can offer, like a generous girl, to hold it in my hand to keep it warm.

Watch the story unfold..