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She played through this, but the moment I put a hand on her shoulder she stopped. I had barely touched her. ‘Keep playing.’ She started at the place she’d stopped, but now she stared at the sheet music. Or at least she stared toward it, away from me, as though trying not to show she was aware of what I was doing. I moved my hand to her cheek. She concentrated on the music. Playing. Concentrating. Playing. There was color in her cheeks. I moved both hands to her shoulders, right at her neck, and she kept on, showing no notice whatsoever. I leaned down and touched my mouth to the top of her head and held myself there. The only way I could tell she felt this was from the way her shoulders went tight. It was when I bent over further and kissed her ear that she stopped again. She was panting. I kissed her cheek. I moved a hand under her chin and raised her face upward, and twisted around to kiss her mouth. She kissed me back. Her breathing was uneven. I stepped around in front to kiss her. My father spoke first. Bernie, you can't go hometonight. You have to stay here. You'll sleep with Stas. Bernie smiledand nodded. I pretended innocence and announced that it was time for me togo to bed. I left the group, climbed the stairs to my bedroom. My parentshad to climb the same stairs and pass through my bedroom to theirs. I wasfilled with anticipation over what might happen that night. I undressed,leaving my boxer shorts on. Downstairs, I could hear continued discussionand joviality and that, in a sense, lulled me into a torpor. Soon I wasfast asleep. It seemed like hours had passed. I woke and realized thatanother body was in bed with me. The early thoughts of the evening came tome and I realized it was Bernie. He slept and snored and I explored hisnaked body, throwing back the covers to observe his nudity. His cock laydormant. His gray pubic hairs accentuated that dormancy. I whispered intohis ear: "Bernie, are you awake." There was no response. I lowered myhead over his.
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