VII.
Yurenka didn't call again for a couple of weeks. When I saw her during lawn cutting days she was still shy, but would smile. I didn't have any more pictures prepared for her but I was collecting some. I did, however, have another Penthouse Letters that disappeared from the gray can in the back yard about a week before.
At about 6:30 on a Friday evening she called. “I can call another time if you're busy.”
“Now is fine. I've been thinking about you lately. You found the magazine?”
“Yes. I found it. Well, actually Milla found it. My sister. She looked because she found my other magazine in our bedroom and she wanted to know where I found it and wouldn't leave me alone until I told her and then she started running to the blue can before I could whenever we got there and last week it was there and she took it.”
Was I ever young enough to get that many words in one sentence?
“What did she think of the stuff she had found?”
“She was really interested and asked me all kinds of questions and stuff. She also said that she knew that I did 'stuff' at night in bed and wanted to know what it was. If Mom and Dad find out they'll kill me.”
“They won't 'kill' you, Yurenka, but there is a way you can make sure that Milla doesn't tell them.”
“How?”
“Let her in on it. Then it's her secret, too, and she won't want to tell anyone. And she is probably just as curious about sex as you were. You can help her understand what is right and what is just the bullshit that many kids come up with because they really don't know about sex, either.”
“Well, I did tell her some stuff. But I don't know how to explain the pictures you gave me.”
“Does she know about them?”
“Yes. She found everything under the mattress of my bed.”
“Just tell her that you found them in my trash, too. If I throw something away, and you find it, and you take it, it's not my fault even though I was careless about how I got rid of the stuff. See?”
“Okay, but that doesn't help with her wanting to know what I do after we go to bed! I can't show her that! I'm no les.. lesbian! I'm her sister.”
“You may not want to 'show' her on yourself, but you could show her on her. And even if you did show her on yourself, that doesn't mean that you're a lesbian.”
“I couldn't do that. Why wouldn't that make me a lesbian or weird or something?”
“Remember I said that homosexuals 'only' make love to their same sex. Guys with guys and girls with girls. Homosexual guys don't think of girls as sex mates and Homosexual girls don't think of guys as sex mates. Never. But 'bisexual' people (and there are a lot more of them than homosexual people) think of either as sex mates, though they normally have a preference for the opposite sex. See?”
“It would be really weird to talk to my sister about touching herself, and I could never show her.”
“Keep what you know to yourself and let Milla learn from other kids who don't give a shit about her and will just want to use her for their own pleasure without caring if she ever feels what you felt the last time we talked. Do you remember how that felt?”
Little voice: “Yes, I remember.”
“Well, although you found the things I was telling you exciting, and that's why it was so much better than when you touch yourself alone, everything I said to you was also the truth. Don't you want Milla to know the truth about sex instead of some stupid version her friends might tell her?”
“I could just tell her, not show her like a weirdo.”
“Yurenka. You have to decide what you want to do. You love your sister. She loves you. She obviously is intent on learning about sex. If you answer her questions, and you somehow show her how to please herself, which will be loving her. If you got to where you two masturbated together, it would be more exciting for each of you, because you would be sharing the pleasure. Just like it was so much better for you to share with me on the phone than to just do it by yourself. It hasn't been as good for you since that day, has it? Do you see what I mean?”
“Yeah, I see. But it's still good. I mean, when I…do myself.”
“Yes, of course. But it's not anywhere near as good as when I was on the phone with you. Right?”
“No. That was awesome!”
“There are two reasons for that 'awesomeness', Yurenka. One, is that you were imagining what I was saying to you, experiencing yourself through me, my words to you, the images that my words created in your mind. Two, is the fact that I care about you so I didn't tell you things that weren't real, and I was totally honest with you about every word I spoke. Only caring people do that for each other.
Strangers don't give a damn about anything except their own pleasure. Who cares about your sister more than you do? Who wants good things for her more than you do? How many teenage boys do you think there are in the world who know all that they should know about the realities of sex, with an understanding of what a girl needs to satisfy her?”
“I know what you're saying. I know she wants to know everything.”
“So did you at her age. How much would you have appreciated a big sister who could have helped you back then?”
“Oh!”
“By the way, Yurenka, where are you? I forgot to ask.”
“I'm at my same friend's house as when I called you the first time. She loaned me a key while they were all at her aunts house in Mexico for a week.”
“How old is your friend and why would she loan you a key?”
“She's the same age as me. She loaned me the key so I could use her room and have some privacy.”
“For?”
“What?”
“Privacy for what, Yurenka?”
“You know.”
“Yes, I do. But does she?”
“Well, sort of. I mean she doesn't know about you, but she knows about wanting to be able to, you know, um, masturbate. And she knows I'm getting my “stuff” from an older guy.”
“What's her name?”
“Ivette.”
“Sometime I'd like you to tell me about Ivette.”
“Okay.”
“Are you 'masturbating' now?”
“No, I'm still sort of dressed.”
“In what?”
“Why do you need to know that?”
“Don't play games, Yurenka. How can I see you in my mind if I don't know how you're dressed.”
“Why do you have to see me in your mind?”
“Are you the only one who is supposed to get pleasure out of our conversations? Are you the only one who gets to jack-off and have an orgasm? I want those things, too, and I have to do most of the work, here. Help me and I help you. What are you wearing and where are you?”
“I'm lying on her bed. I have my bra and panties on.”
“And what do you want to talk about?”
“Why did you give me pictures of girls, uh, doing each other, but none of boys doing each other?”
“Good question. I gave you pictures of guys eating girls because I really like that, like doing it I mean. And I gave you pictures of couples in a 69, eating each other, because I really like that. I will get you pictures of guys sucking each other off, if you want, but I'm not interested in them myself. Most men aren't. But! Most men relish seeing two girls making love to each other. That is a real turn on. Very few men probably ever get to see it in person; I certainly never have. But most men want to see it, and take looking at pictures of it as a remote second to actually being there.”
“So why did you give me those pictures?”
