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He stopped us and faced me. Without saying a word he grabbed the bottom of my blouse and camisole, pulling them up and over my head. He then undid the button of my shorts and slid his thumbs to the sides. He grabbed the material of my shorts and the top of my panties and lowered them down past my bottom, letting them drop to the floor. I stood there exposed to my brother. I didn’t try and cover up or hide. I stood there and just looked at his face. Steven quickly took off his tee-shirt and dropped his shorts. He was completely naked and exposed to me. I grabbed both of Steven’s hands and we stepped toward each other. I rose up on my toes and kissed his lips softly. I could feel my breasts brushing against his chest and his penis pressing against my lower stomach. The daze I had experienced earlier when we kissed was back. The confusion of right and wrong was back. My breath was gone and my heart was racing. Racing is really an understatement. My heart was pounding. I could feel. He just never thought about her as a date. But taking Etta to the dance would kill several birds with one, somewhat slender, stone. She wasn’t The Sin, but then who was? Still, she wasn't a bad looking girl, if you thought about it. In fact, you might even call her cute in a healthy, perky sort of way. And having a date for the Valentine’s Day dance would show The Sin that William Jackson Sinclair's social life didn’t end with the great divide. Going to the dance with Etta would also spare him the agony of taking Priscilla Rogers, the family favorite for his hand in matrimony. Unfortunately, Priscilla was neither perky and smart like Etta nor beautiful and interesting like, The Sin. Priscilla was to Willie as Oakland was to the poet who proclaimed, "There’s no there, there". Asking Etta to the dance would also prove he wasn’t just interested in her academically. That should relieve any suspicions she might be harboring concerning his intentions at this pivotal point on the academic.
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