MAKING ME COMPLETE

The bus was late. Or at least it was going to be late. It was supposed to arrive at 16:32 and it was 16:31 and it still wasn't in sight. If it were to arrive at 16:32, it should have come across the corner by now. But it hadn't.

It was 16:32 and the bus still wasn't there. It was definitely late now. That made me nervous. I don't like it when things don't happen as they are supposed to. My therapist told me that it didn't matter. The bus would arrive sooner or later. Maybe there was a lot of traffic, or perhaps there were a lot of people getting on and off the bus.

But that got me worried even more. Maybe my favourite seat had been taken. Maybe there would be somebody else sitting where I wanted to sit. Where would I sit in that case? To try to calm down, I closed my eyes and put my fingers on my temples. I rubbed them gently. This always helped to calm me down whenever I got stressed.

However, I couldn't do that too long, or I might not see the bus. It was 16:33 and finally the bus came around the corner. It would be 16:34 before it arrived at the stop. I just hoped that my seat would be empty.

Thankfully, it was. That, at least, was a blessing. Now the bus would arrive at 16:50 near my flat. Or more likely, at 16:52.

I counted red cars on the way home, like I always did. I like red cars. After graduation and getting a job, I wanted to get a red car for myself. Preferably something sleek and sporty. Maybe that would help me to get a girlfriend, because I wasn't very good at that.

Four red cars so far. There was a fifth one, and a nice one at that: a 2013 model Nissan 370Z. A bit out of my budget range, though. Unless I'd buy it second-hand, but I didn't like the idea of that. I didn't want a car that belonged to someone else before. Six red cars now. And here was my stop.

* * *

There was a red car parked on the other side of the road. But it didn't count, because I wasn't riding on the bus anymore. Although the car had been there when the bus arrived at its stop, so perhaps I should count it anyway? On the other hand, I hadn't seen it until I alighted from the bus.

I was still considering whether or not to count the parked car when I arrived at the front door of the flat. The door wasn't locked, which meant that Iris was in. 'Hi Iris,' I called as I came in. 'I'm home.'

'Hi Robert,' she replied. 'You left the salt on the table this morning.'

'Oh, sorry,' I said. 'Won't happen again.' That was a lie, obviously, and both of us knew that, but it helped her relax.

Iris didn't like it if things were out of place. In her own room, everything was always in exactly the same position --the correct position, according to her-- and I rarely went there, for fear of disturbing something and getting her all upset. My own room was perhaps not so perfect. It wasn't exactly a mess, but Iris didn't like to come in, because she would inevitably start moving my things around, which would get me annoyed.

So we compromised by avoiding each other's rooms, and by keeping the communal parts clean, with things in the right place. More or less, at least. Iris had to learn to be more flexible when it came to the spaces that we share, but it was still a bit hard for her, especially if she was stressed.

'I saw six red cars on the way home,' I told Iris. 'Or perhaps seven. I haven't yet decided yet.'

'Uh huh,' she replied. Iris didn't particularly care about cars, not even red ones. I knew that, but it made me feel better when I talked about them. Most people didn't understand, and didn't accept it either that I always talked about the same things.

But Iris does. Iris understands me so much better than anybody else. She accepts my peculiarities, just like accept hers. You see, Iris is my sister -- twin sister even. Although she likes to call me 'little brother' because she was born fifteen minutes before I. Those fifteen minutes make absolutely no difference over those nineteen years, but she's always been protective of me. And I of her, for that matter.

Iris is very much like I. And I don't just mean that we're twins. I have rather soft features for a male, and we have the same hair colour, and the same colour eyes. People did mistake us for twin girls when we were younger, also because we both had our hair long. Having my hair cut freaks me out completely. It hurts having my scalp touched, so our parents decided to be practical and leave my hair long. Iris has the same problem. These days, my hair is shoulder-length, kept in a ponytail, whereas Iris's hair is loose and goes right to her bottom. The hair is how you can tell us apart, aside from the most obvious difference of course: that she's female, and I'm male.

But the similarities aren't just physical. She has the same condition that I have, that condition that went undiagnosed for too long, and which nearly cost our parents their marriage, and which, quite frankly, has fucked up our lives quite nicely.

Always being the odd one out. Always being the one who makes an awkward comment without realising it. Always feeling that there's something wrong, without knowing what. The bullying. Never really trusting anybody. But mostly, the not knowing. That is, until a psychologist friend of our parents suggested that we might have Asperger's syndrome. Not immediately obvious, but just enough to make social interactions really difficult.

After the initial denials --'that's just the way they are' -- there had been a diagnosis and therapy, but it had been little, and late. Our parents still had trouble accepting the fact, and blamed inoculations, or the wrong kind of food, or whatever else, except the real reason: their genes. Blame everything except themselves. It's not like they could help it, don't get me wrong. And don't blame them for it either. Why should I? You can't blame somebody for who they are, even though that had happened often enough to Iris and me.

The one positive aspect of having Asperger's syndrome is that we did really well in school, without having to try hard. But truthfully, I would have settled for having to work hard, if that would have meant that my childhood would have been easier.

'One of the red cars was a Nissan 370Z,' I said. 'The 2013 model.'

'Is that a nice car?' asked Iris. It was nice that she asked, even though she didn't care much about cars. But she cared about me.

'Yes, it is,' I replied. 'I wouldn't mind having one. But it's too expensive for me. I could never afford it, unless I get a really good job and save up for several years.'

'You should get a good job,' said Iris. 'IT people will always be in demand.'

That was true, I probably should get a good job once I finished university. So should she, once she received her mathematics degree.

I'm usually not very good at gauging people's moods, with the exception of my sister. Something was bugging her. I could tell by the way she talked, and that she didn't chat about elliptic curves or some other security-related subject --she was fascinated by cryptography-- and quite simply by the look on her face. It was not a happy look.

'What's wrong, sis?' I asked.

She didn't say anything for a couple of moments. Finally, she spoke.

'You remember that guy that I mentioned, the one I was dating?'

I remembered him. I'd met him once, too, and decided I didn't like him very much. I'd said this to Iris, who got offended. It was actually the first time she had dated, and she became like a different person. She suddenly was concerned about her looks, something that hadn't really been on her radar until then. I had envied her, because I think it's much easier for girls to get a boyfriend than the other way around.

Or at least, it's easier to get someone to have sex with you. Although I'd read that women want more from a boyfriend than just sex. Heck, I'd settle for sex right now. It looked like Iris was going to get just that before I did, and it made me both jealous and envious. Envious, because I wanted more from life. I wanted someone that I could share everything with, including sex. And jealous, because it looked like this loser was going to take Iris away from me, even though she was an adult and had her own life.

She didn't mention his name, and she had said 'was dating,' like it was in the past. Could it be...?

'Yes, I remember him. What about him?'

'I dumped him.'

'Oh.' I couldn't think of anything meaningful to say, so I told her, 'I'm sorry.' Even though I wasn't.

'Don't be,' said Iris. 'Turned out he was a total asshole.'

For once, my social instincts --for want of a better word-- had been right. I decided not to enquire about the reason, because Iris would tell me, if and when she wanted. And I didn't want to inadvertently say something that might hurt her; hurt her even more than she already was.

'A girl told me that he's made a wager to sleep with all the girls in our year. He figured that I would be an easy mark on the tally, because...' She didn't finish the sentence.

Because she'd never had a boyfriend. I knew that, and she knew that I knew that, so there wasn't anything to say, really. I just looked at her, let her know that I was there for her.

'I would have actually slept with him. It had it all planned, so I knew exactly what was going to happen and when. Because...' Again, she didn't finish, and again she didn't need to. She was crying now.

I felt very angry at the guy. My sister is the single most important person in my life, the only one who really understands me, and he had hurt her deeply. Within a fraction of a second, I thought of numerous ways that I could get back at him, hurt him twice as much as he had hurt Iris. But the reality was that he was a big guy, strong, and half a head taller than I. And what good would it do? Nothing. It wouldn't change anything.

What I could do, though, was console my sister. I went to sit next to her and hugged her. I'm the only person that can do that. She freaks out at being touched by other people, but we've been extremely close ever since we were born, and somehow it works for us.

'Hey now, hey now,' I said. 'It's OK. It's OK. He's hurt you, but not as much as he would have hurt you if your friend hadn't told you. He's not going to hurt you anymore. I won't let him. I'll look after my big sister.'

She managed a little smile between the tears when I called her my big sister. She clung to me, the only person who really knew her, and slowly the hurt and sadness dissipated. They didn't entirely disappear, but at least they weren't so raw any longer.

'Why don't we have a pizza delivered and watch a film together?' I suggested. 'Like old times, when we were kids?'

'Sure,' she replied. 'It might take my mind off things.'

* * *

The pizzas arrived reasonably quickly, with enough time for me to select a film. I'd set up the local area network in our flat, which meant that you could watch any film, stored on a server, on any screen. Whether the TV in the living room, or any PC, laptop or tablet. Or even on your smartphone, if for some unfathomable reason you'd want to do that. My porn collection I keep on my own PC, though. It's not something that I would like to share, especially not with my sister.

Selecting a film was another issue. Even though Iris loved them, a romantic comedy was probably not a good idea. Nor was an erotic thriller, for that matter, so no Basic Instinct. A cartoon? Too light-hearted. Science fiction then? Yes, science fiction would do. I chose Blade Runner.

We were half sitting, half lying on the sofa. It's the kind where you can put an extension in front of it, so it becomes a bit like a bed. We had just finished the pizzas, and reached the part where Deckard visits Sebastian. We're both slow eaters.

We hadn't said a word since the film started, but now Iris spoke.

'I am so fed up with this bloody Asperger's that I have. That we have. At this rate, I'm never going to get a boyfriend. Because I really don't know if I can trust someone. I just can't tell if he's genuine. And I think I'd rather be alone than be hurt again.'

I put my hand on her leg as a sign of support. 'I know, sis, I know all too well. Once, a couple of years ago, a girl in school pretended to like me, but she did it only to make fun of me. I know exactly what you mean. I can't trust anybody either. Except you of course.'

Iris remained silent for a while, but she was thinking. 'What did you just say?'

'What?' I asked.

'What did you just say? About trust?'

'That I can't trust anybody?' I wondered where this was going.

'And?' she insisted.

'Anybody except you?' I ventured.

'You can't trust anybody except me.' She thought for a short while again. 'And I can't trust anybody except you.'

'Yes, I suppose so.' I really had no idea where this was headed.

Some more silence followed as we looked at the screen, although neither of us was really watching. She was thinking about something, turning the idea in her head a million times.

'Maybe you should be my boyfriend then,' said Iris suddenly.

I dropped the remote from shock. 'What? What is that?' I blurted out. Her remark had caught me completely off-guard.

She was toying with a cushion that she'd been holding. 'Well,' she said, 'given that we're both hopeless at starting any kind of relationship, we might as well invest in the one relationship that actually works. The one between you and me.'

'But... but... when you say 'boyfriend,' I stammered, 'do you mean...' My voice trailed off.

'Doing boyfriend/girlfriend stuff. Go to the cinema. Eat out together. Taking walks while holding hands. Having this one person with which you can share anything. Anything.'

'We do go to the cinema and eat out occasionally,' I observed. 'Holding hands, no, but other than that, we pretty much do all of these things.'

'Not everything, Robert. Not everything.'

'Do you mean...?' I couldn't ask the question, because the repercussions would overload my brain. Instinctively, my hands went to my temples to rub them.

'I mean everything. We know one another. We trust one another. It'll just be... a new phase in our relationship, so to say. You probably would like to move on from watching porn and wanking, am I right?'

'How did you...,' I asked.

'I guessed, and it looks like I guessed right. And I'm a bit fed up with having to use a vibrator for relief.'

'You have a vibrator?' It was not something that I would have thought my sister would use. But then again, I didn't think of my sister in that way. Not until 30 seconds ago, that is, and now that I did, the thought was disturbing, to say the least.

'Several actually, but that's not something I'm going to discuss with you. Not yet anyway. But I'm ready for a bit of slap and tickle.'

'But we can't! We're siblings!' I objected.

'Says who we can't?' asked Iris.

'There are laws against it!' I told her.

'No there aren't. Not in this country,' she said.

'But we can't get married!' I said.

'Married? Who said anything about marriage? I don't need to marry you. Marrying makes you family. You're already family.'

Her arguments were totally logical. Still, it wasn't right. A boyfriend/girlfriend relationship, where there ought to be a brother/sister relationship, was against the rules. Some rules anyway, although I couldn't quite remember which rules. Or wait... procreation! That was it!

'We can't have...' I couldn't get myself to say the word, because I didn't want to think about it. 'We can't be boyfriend and girlfriend, because if had a baby it would probably be deformed or something.'

'A baby?' she asked. 'Don't be daft. I don't want a baby. Ever. I don't want to pass on my mess of a gene pool and have a child go through the same shit that I went through. Do you?'

I admitted that no, having a baby was not something that I ought to do.

'So what's stopping us then?' asked Iris.

'What will people say? Our parents for example.'

'So we don't tell them. We don't see that much of them anyway.'

'But it's against morality,' I said.

'Morality? Morality is other people deciding what's good for you,' she replied. 'Society imposing its beliefs on individuals. How has society treated you so far?'

Like shit it had, but that didn't mean I could just shrug it off. Desperately, I was trying to find a reason why I shouldn't be Iris's boyfriend, but there really wasn't much I could say to contradict her. Women, over the centuries, have used many methods to seduce men. Using logic had to be a novel approach, though.

'No objections then?' she asked.

Plenty of objections, but I knew she would easily brush them off. So I remained silent.

'That's settled then,' she said. 'Switch off that TV.'

I switched off the TV.

'Good,' she said. 'Now let's make a list of things we'll be doing as boyfriend and girlfriend.' She got out her phone.

'Right,' she continued. 'I think we can start with taking a walk holding hands. We could do that tomorrow.' She looked at me.

'OK,' I said.

'Let's go to the park. We can walk there, hand in hand, and sit on a bench, looking at the ducks. You like looking at the ducks, right?'

That was true, I like looking at the ducks. 'Yes,' I said, 'I like ducks.'

'Hmm,' she added. 'We could actually make a picnic out of it. That would be nice.'

She didn't really expect my opinion on it, so I made a grunt that she took for approval.

'Then, the day after tomorrow. We'll go to the cinema. We have to decide on what film.'

'There's a science fiction that...,' I started to say.

'We can't go and watch a science fiction film on a date. It's not very romantic, is it? I was thinking of a romantic comedy,' she interrupted me.

Ah yes, romantic comedy. I might have guessed she would have chosen that.

'And on Saturday, we will have a romantic dinner. Afterwards, we'll go home and have sex.'

'We... we have sex on Saturday?' I asked. She didn't seem to notice the panic in my voice.

'Well I'm not going to have sex with you on the first or second date. I'm not that kind of girl,' said Iris.

'That's not what I meant,' I said. 'It's just that... having sex...' My voice trailed off.

'We talked about this and it makes perfect sense,' said Iris.

Yes, we did talk about it, but Iris always won any argument, so I remained silent again. She took this as my consent.

'So that's all planned then. Tomorrow holding hands, Friday the cinema and Saturday the dinner.'

And the sex.

* * *

The next day, I was very nervous at university and didn't get much done. To make matters worse, the bus was five minutes late and my favourite place had been taken.

It got better, though, when I saw Iris. On the one hand I was dreading what would happen, but on the other hand I was simply always happy to see her. She was such an integral and important part of my life.

'Hi Robert,' she said cheerily. 'Are you ready for our picnic? I've prepared everything. Here, you carry the basket.'

'OK,' I said.

'Let's go then,' she said. And off we went.

As soon as we were out of the door of our flat, she took my hand. It felt strange, almost tingling.

Iris felt me stiffen up, and explained, 'We're on a date. So we have to hold hands. That's how it's supposed to be done.'

All good and well, but I hadn't quite got used to the idea of dating my sister. But now we were on our way to the park.

'I took some old bread,' said Iris, 'so that we can feed the ducks.' Ah, good, because I was so nervous that I had forgotten about everything else.

The walk to the park was pretty uneventful. I actually started to enjoy a bit holding Iris's hand. It made me feel special, and wanted, and no longer alone. Once we got to the duck pond, we sat down on a bench. I was a bit surprised when Iris snuggled right up to me. But I suppose that's the sort of thing you do on a date.

Meanwhile, some ducks had waddled to where we were sitting, and were quacking expectantly. Iris took out the bread, gave half of it to me, so we could break it in small pieces and feed those to the ducks.

When no more bread was forthcoming, there was some more quacking, but the ducks finally seemed content, and returned to the water.

An old lady with a walker stopped at our bench. I smiled at her, because I knew that old ladies like it when you smile at them.

'How sweet,' said the old lady, 'young love. It reminds me of when I started dating my late husband.'

'It's our first date,' said Iris happily.

'Oh, so you just got together?' asked the old lady.

'No, we've been together all our lives,' I said. 'We're siblings.' The old lady gave us a look that I couldn't quite understand. 'Twins,' I added.

Without a further word, the old lady moved on.

'She walks remarkably quickly with that thing,' said Iris.

'Yeah, she does indeed,' I said. I wondered if I had said something wrong.

* * *

It was time for the picnic now. We chose a place on the grass, underneath an old tree. Iris took out a chequered cloth, making sure to lay it absolutely straight. She had made four sandwiches, two small salads, and also brought two apples, two plates, and cutlery, all of which she proceeded to place exactly symmetrical on the cloth. Finally, she produced two wine glasses and a chilled bottle of Chablis.

It had to be said, I was impressed. 'Very nice, sis,' I told her. She smiled at the compliment.

Iris took one of the sandwiches, while I reached for the salad. I spotted the frown on her face, though, and decided instead to go for a sandwich as well. Symmetry restored, Iris gave me the sweetest of smiles.

Apart from a couple of running dogs, and an invasion of ants --for which Iris had thoughtfully brought insecticide-- the picnic proceeded without incident. All in all, I was actually enjoying myself, even more so when we got to the wine. I felt a pang of disappointment when everything had been eaten and drunk, and we should be on our way home.

* * *

'So did you like our first date?' asked Iris when we got there. I had to admit that, on the whole, I had.

'Good,' said Iris. 'So tomorrow we go to the cinema. We need to select a film.'

Which meant: we need to select a romantic comedy.

I never really understood romantic comedy. The story was always the same: a man and a woman meet by accident, they fall in love, then something happens that drives them apart, but in the end they end up together again.

Now there's nothing wrong with predictability. I like predictability, after all. But I never get the jokes in romantic comedies, so in the end I'm looking at attractive people being happy. No space battles, no special effects, and no attractive young women scantily clad in leather, brandishing huge weapons.

We --well, Iris really-- selected a film and we reserved two tickets online. We spent the rest of the evening watching a film together, and I made the unfortunate mistake of letting Iris choose a film. Still no leather-clad space heroines. Oh well.

* * *

The next day went by pretty uneventful. After dinner, we went to the bus stop to catch a bus into town. Iris insisted on holding my hand.

When the bus arrived, I went to sit on my favourite seat.

'Where do you think you're going?' asked Iris.

'Em... what?' I asked.

'We're on a date. Come sit next to me,' she instructed me.

Ah, yes. The date. Somewhat reluctantly, I went to sit on an unfamiliar seat, but at least it was next to my sister, who again sat really close to me and took my hand in hers. It tingled again, my hand and my leg, but in a nice way.

Once arrived at the cinema, we went to the box office. I asked for one ticket for the romantic comedy.

'Two,' said Iris.

'But...,' I started. I wanted to point out that we always split the bills, but she didn't let me finish.

'We're on a date, so you have to buy the tickets. It's traditional,' she said.

The lady in the box office looked at me. 'If you want this date to work, son, you'd better pay for her ticket,' she said.

I sighed and paid for both tickets. We went inside and I took off towards the hall, when Iris asked, 'Aren't you going to buy me a drink and some popcorn?'

'But that's not fair,' I protested. 'You and I get the same amount of money each month. Why should I have to pay for everything?'

'Because that's how it's supposed to be done. It always happens like that in the film. The boy takes the girl out, pays for everything, and after the third date he gets to have sex with her.'

I pointed out that this whole dating thing was very much her idea, and that I still wasn't at all convinced about the sex part. Iris conceded that I had a point, and paid for our drinks and popcorn.

'But what about tomorrow?' I asked. 'Do you expect me to pay for everything? That's a lot of money for dinner.'

'Maybe we could set up a dating fund,' said Iris. 'We both put in an equal amount of money, and this money we use for dating.'

I thought of protesting again, that I still wasn't convinced about this whole dating thing, but I didn't want to disappoint her --or ruin our date-- so with some reluctance I agreed.

'Great!' said Iris. 'Now let's go watch that film.'

Iris insisted on holding my hand throughout the film. This made drinking and eating the popcorn somewhat difficult, but we managed. And I had started to enjoy being so close to her.

The film itself was as expected. The attractive main characters met by accident, they fell in love, then something happened that drove them apart, but in the end they came together again. I could tell that Iris was enjoying it. She had a big smile on her face.

Just before the credits, there was a sex scene. Iris's grip tightened. Surely, she was thinking the same thing as I. Would we be doing this tomorrow, after our meal? Would it be anything like in this film?

We spoke little on the way back. We held hands, as was practically natural now, and each reminisced on what we'd just seen. Were we anything like that? Probably not: a brother/sister couple was hardly the norm. But the characters cared a lot for one another, and that was very much how Iris and I were.

Once home, Iris asked me, 'Did you enjoy our date?'

Before I could answer, she said, 'I enjoyed it a lot. I like being with you. It makes me feel... safe. And wanted. I like it that there's you with me, that you want to be with me.'

Neither Iris nor I are particularly good at expressing our feelings, but she described exactly how I was feeling. In a world that was so often incomprehensible or even downright scary, there was always Iris as a stable factor. I knew that I could rely on her, and what to expect from there. There were never any surprises.

Well, except perhaps that she wanted to date me. That had been rather surprising.

'Yes,' I told her, 'I too liked the date. It's nice to be with you.'

She smiled at that, and pecked me on the cheek. 'Good night, little brother,' she said. 'See you tomorrow for the big day.'

* * *

There was still some time before I went to bed --falling asleep has always been difficult for me-- but I didn't want to spend it like I would normally spend a Friday night: that is, watching porn. It somehow didn't feel right, and I wasn't in the mood anyway.

I didn't feel like watching TV either, so I decided to undress and lie on the bed, and think. Staring at the dimly-lit ceiling, I thought about what happened, and what was going to happen.

Iris was the most important person in my life, no doubt about that. And I was the most important person in her life. The relationship with our parents, who never fully admitted to our condition, and definitely never committed to therapy, was strained.

They never understood us, and we never understood them. It was like we were two different species. So as soon as we'd finished secondary education, it had been a good excuse to leave the house together, and move to the city.

That had been a frightening experience, leaving the old, familiar house. But while the house was familiar, there were too many painful memories, and the difficult relations with our parents. But even though all this change had been more difficult for us than it would have been for a neurotypical person --or 'normal' person, if you prefer the less politically correct expression-- it had been necessary to start with a clean slate.

And now, I was dating her. Ever since my hormones started to wreak havoc in my body, I'd wanted to date a girl. But I never managed to talk to one and not say the wrong things. It had been extremely frustrating, to the point that I was reluctant to approach any girl.

Dating Iris seemed to be going OK, though. But that was because she was Iris. She wasn't one for nuances in speech, and getting offended if I said something wrong. Because she was the only one who knew me.

And I understood the biological underpinnings of the aversion that society held against what we were doing. But society is not always a nice place if you're a bit different, so as far as I was concerned, society go very well go stuff it.

Sex. It was something I had fantasised about so often, and now it was supposed to happen the following day. I wondered what it would be like, and what sort of things we would be doing.

Slowly, my thoughts were getting a bit unfocussed, and I closed my eyes.

* * *

The next morning, we were having breakfast together.

'We need to book a restaurant,' said Iris. 'Did you have anything in mind?'

I've always loved Italy and its cuisine. 'How about Trattoria Vecchia Firenze?' I suggested.

'That sounds fine. Could you book a table?' she asked. And as I took out my phone, she added: 'A romantic one,' and she winked at me.

After cleaning up, we went to get some groceries for the weekend. Almost automatically, I held out my hand for Iris as we walked towards the supermarket. I wasn't just getting used to the sensation, I was thoroughly enjoying it, feeling her hand in mine.

We bought what we needed, and went back to the flat. It was still early, and we weren't going for our dinner until nine o'clock. We decided to spend the rest of the afternoon on the sofa, watching old films. We snuggled up to each other, and held hands. Holding hands made me happy.

* * *

It was getting time to change. I would have been happy going out in shorts and a T-shirt, but Iris pointed out that this would not be very romantic. So I settled for a pair of smart jeans and a short sleeved shirt. I looked at myself in the mirror, and the mirror image looked OK for a romantic dinner, I thought. I'm not really the shirt and tie type of guy. Ties are awful; they make me feel as if I'm suffocating. It's one reason why I loathe formal events with a passion. Another reason is that people suddenly start behaving differently, as if the occasion makes them some sort of different person. I've never quite understood this.

Iris took quite a while longer than I to change, but when she came out of her room, I was flabbergasted: I hardly recognised her. Instead of her usual jeans and casual top, she was wearing a light blue dress, that reached only marginally lower than her hips. It showed quite a bit of skin, and proved that my sister didn't really look so much alike to me these days. She looked definitely very feminine, and a lot more curvy than I'd thought. Although truth be told, I never really considered my sister's curves until then. And instead of trainers, she was wearing low-heeled sandals.

And was she actually wearing make-up? Indeed she was. I couldn't remember her ever wearing make-up, but now she had applied a bit of eye shadow to accentuate the colour of her irises, plus mascara, eyeliner and a soft pink lipstick. It was all done subtly, but the effect was spectacular. Only then I realised that my sister is actually rather pretty. No, scrap that: she's beautiful.

'Do I look OK?' she asked, apparently insecure. I just stared.

'Robert? Say something. Close your mouth first, though.'

'Ah? Um. Oh. Sorry,' I said. 'You look more than just OK, sis. You look absolutely stunning.'

'Really? You think so?' Her face broke into a smile. Smiles I could recognise, definitely on Iris. I was glad that my comment had made her so happy.

'Well, let's be on our way then,' she said. She didn't move, though. Then I remembered that I was supposed to play the part of the gentleman, and open the door for her. To me it still felt a bit like play-acting, but it made Iris feel special.

The restaurant was only a ten minute walk from where we lived. We walked there hand in hand, taking time to enjoy each other's company. It was a beautiful summer evening, a bit cooler than during the day, but by no means chilly.

Just before nine, we arrived at the restaurant. True to his word, the restaurateur had given us a table in a secluded, dimly-lit area of the restaurant, and had even put two candles on the table. We were given the menus, and left alone.

'What are you having?' I asked.

Iris glanced at the menu. 'I think I'll have the beef carpaccio as a starter, and the steak as a main course. You choose the wine.'

'I'll have the pasta with artichoke, and then the lemon chicken,' I said.

Presently, the restaurateur returned to take our order.

'Per piacere,' I said, 'una bottiglia di acqua frizzante...'

Sparkling water...

'Lambrusco rosato...'

A rosé Lambrusco...

'Per me, tortiglione ai carciofi e pollo al limone...'

For me, tortiglione of artichoke and lemon chicken...

'E carpaccio di manzo e bistecca alle fiorentina per mia...'

And carpaccio of beef and Florentine steak for my...

I stopped and looked at Iris. The word 'sorella', sister, had been on my lips, but...

I spoke to the restaurateur again: 'Per mia ragazza.'

For my girlfriend.

Iris showed me the most beautiful smile when she heard me say that.

'Grazie,' said the restaurateur, who collected the menus and left.

'Allora Roberto,' smiled Iris, 'sono la tua ragazza?'

So Robert, am I your girlfriend?

'Si,' I replied, 'sei la mia ragazza. Ti amo, e sei tutto ciò che voglio.'

Yes, you are my girlfriend. I love you, and you're all that I want.

Expressing emotions isn't always easy for me, but it's a bit easier in that incredibly beautiful and elegant language.

We were silent after that, holding hands across the table, and looking each other in the eye. There was a feeling that I had. I'd had it before, but this time, I felt that it was mutual. I was falling in love with Iris.

Then, she asked me, 'So how many red cars did you see today?'

'I... I don't know,' I said. Which was true. Spending all day with Iris and thinking about it had made me all but forget about red cars. Why was that? I suppose that counting red cars is a coping mechanism, a way for me to make sense of a chaotic world. But today, the current line-up from Maranello, home of Ferrari, could have driven down the street and I wouldn't even have noticed.

Today, there had been little room for anything other than spending time with Iris. And thinking about what would be coming this evening. And I had started to feel better about it: instead of absolute dread, it was more of a mild panic now.

'I guess I was too busy thinking about you,' I added. 'Thinking about us.' She smiled again at that.

A waiter came with a bread basket and the water. I took one of the side plates, put it in the middle, poured some olive oil in it, and added some salt and pepper. Both Iris and I took a piece of bread, and proceeded to break of pieces of the bread and dip them in the oil. Sometimes, the simplest things are the best.

We didn't say much until the food arrived, just exchanging glances and smiles. Before long, the dishes started arriving, and we dug in.

The meal was excellent, and so was the wine. Having polished off most of it, we were a little bit tipsy when we started on the way home.

I held out my hand to her, but she actually grabbed my entire arm and put her head on my shoulder. Eventually, we settled on half-hugging each other while we walked home. It took us twice as long, but it did feel very special.

* * *

So, this was it. We had arrived home, and it was time to bring this to a conclusion.

'So,' I said, not knowing what else to say.

'So,' repeated Iris.

Several seconds went by. Embarrassment was making a triumphant return, until Iris spoke again.

'Well,' she said, counting on her fingers. 'We've done the walk, we've done the cinema, we've had the romantic dinner, so that leaves one item on our little list.'

'So... erm,' I said, 'where shall... um... how do we.. um... oh bugger.'

'That,' said Iris, 'most definitely not, at least not for the foreseeable future. Are you trying to ask where we're going to do it?'

It was a good question. Her room was definitely a no-no; just imagine if I'd accidentally touch something. It would ruin her mood, and the whole experience. My room was equally unsuited, because Iris --perhaps not entirely unreasonably so-- thought of it as somewhat chaotic.

'How about the sofa?' I suggested.

Iris thought about it for a second. 'OK,' she said.

So we went to lie on the sofa, like we did when we were watching TV. But today, the TV was switched off.

'Come here,' said Iris. She was lying on her side, facing me. My sister was taking charge, like so often she did. Obligingly, I tuned on my side, too.

We lay there for a couple of moments, looking at one another. The silence added to the embarrassment, and I could see that Iris was getting embarrassed now as well.

'So...,' I asked, 'what do we do now?'

'Haven't got the foggiest idea, really,' she replied. 'I hadn't thought about that yet.'

We lay there, looking at one another, at a loss of what to do. We were both familiar with the procedure --I had watched enough porn for that, and there had been sex education in school-- but doing it yourself is a different matter. I can watch somebody play the violin, but that doesn't mean that I know how to do it myself.

'Maybe we could look it up? Google it or something?' I suggested.

Iris looked relieved. 'OK, let's look it up.'

* * *

I fetched my tablet and searched for 'first time sex'. Iris was lying close and half on me, so she could read the small screen as well. I had always felt completely at ease with her touching me, but now it felt a bit... strange.

It was actually remarkably difficult to find a decent document that explained how to go about it. Between the clutter of the pages that assumed that one of the parties was experienced, and the porn that had wriggled its way into the search results, the pages were few and far between. Good thing we didn't search for 'first time sex between siblings'.But finally, we found a step-by-step document that told us what to do and what to expect. Good, we both like bullet lists. It makes things easier to understand.

'It says that we should get comfortable,' I said.

'I'm pretty comfortable,' said Iris.

'Lower the lights?' Check.

'Put on some relaxing music?' We looked at one another. We had overlapping tastes in music, but that was largely Eurodance, house and techno.

'Let's skip that part,' suggested Iris.

'It says that we should kiss,' I said. This was the moment where things were going to get really awkward. I gave Iris a quick kiss on the cheek.

She looked at me. 'I think you're supposed to kiss on the mouth.'

On the mouth? I started panicking, but then managed to steel myself. I gave her a quick kiss on the mouth. Well, that wasn't so bad.

I could see that Iris was getting impatient, though. 'Look,' she said, 'I think we're supposed to be snogging.'

Ah, right. Snogging. I'd seen it done before, but again, I had no idea where to start, or what to do, or... anything, really.

But here was where Iris's large experience with watching romantic comedies --72.4 GB on the server-- came in. She gently took my head in her hands, closed her eyes, parted her lips, and softly put them on mine. I froze, not knowing what to do.

She stopped kissing me, but kept her face close to mine. 'I think you need to open your mouth a little bit,' she said. 'And close your eyes.'

'Why do I need to close my eyes?' I asked. I like seeing things. It makes it easier to understand them.

Iris looked pensive. 'I don't really know,' she said, 'but it's how it's supposed to be done. I think it's more romantic.'

Fine. I closed my eyes. And suddenly, the sensations were different. There was no interfering image to distract me. The room was silent, except for our breathing. I could feel the heat radiate off her body, and touching my own. Her scent, so sweet and familiar, was up close. As if in a dream, I opened my mouth slightly. And now, there were her soft hands on my face again, and her lips brushing mine.

I had to admit, it did feel nice. That is, until she licked my lips.

Quickly, I pulled away. 'Whoa, what did you just do?'

'I stuck my tongue in your mouth. That's what you're supposed to do.'

'Ow, gross!' OK, that was the wrong way to put it. 'Sorry sis, I didn't mean that, it was just so unexpected. Maybe we should look up how to kiss first?'

'If we're going to have to look up every single thing,' she said, 'we'll be here until tomorrow morning and not have done anything.' I could tell she was annoyed. 'Just relax and try not to freak out, OK?'

'I'll give it my best shot,' I promised.

Back in position. Close eyes. Part lips. Try to relax.

Very gently, she took my hand and placed it on her cheek. She placed her own hands on my face, and we kissed again. It was nice, but the tongue business still had me worried.

She gave a little flick with her tongue. It wasn't so bad actually, and it made me smile. She felt the shape of my face change under her fingers, and took this as an encouragement. She ran her tongue around my lips in a rough circle.

Actually, I liked it. I got a little adventurous and licked her lips in return. I could tell that she liked it as well, and soon enough we were licking each other's lips, teeth, and tongues. She surprised me once more by sucking on my tongue, but it didn't startle me this time.

We must have kissed for several minutes, before we parted. 'Wow,' she said, 'that was really nice. Did you like it?' I had to agree that it was rather pleasant indeed.

'So what do we do now?' she asked.

'The list says that we should touch one another. And continue kissing.'

'Touch where?' she asked.

'Well, anywhere I suppose. Whatever makes the other person feel good, it says here. Like the face, or the neck, or the... oh.'

'The what?'

'Your, um, breasts,' I said. I could feel the blood rushing to my face.

'That should be OK. That it?'

'It also mentions the, um, the um...'

'Our private parts?' she guessed.

'Um, yeah, those.' My face must be the colour of a tomato by now.

'OK,' she said, 'let's do it.'

We started kissing again. I felt apprehensive touching Iris's breasts, but again she took the initiative, took my hand and put it on her breast. I left it there, not knowing what to do.

'Knead it, you dummy,' she said in a brief kissing interlude. 'Ow! Gently! Knead, not squash!'

'Sorry,' I muttered.

Carefully this time, I started squeezing her breast again. 'Mmm,' she said, 'that feels nice.'

For me, it was pleasant as well, it had to be said. It felt unlike anything of my own body. Soft, yet with a certain solidity to it. A bit like hair gel in a plastic bag, but not so sticky.

Her hand was touching my chest, my side and my tummy, and it gave me a tingling sensation. Still pleasant, though. We continued this for some more time, and I was actually getting a bit excited now. From what I could tell, so was Iris.

Then, she took my hand again, and placed it between her legs. Oh dear. When I was again at a loss, she told me to rub up and down. I did, and she immediately responded. Her breathing got heavier, and her kissing more intense. I thought I could feel that she was getting wet down there, although it was difficult to tell, since we were still dressed.

That's when she put her own hand on my crotch. I had been so occupied with the kissing and the kneading and the rubbing, that I hadn't realised until then that I had developed an erection.

'Ooh, little brother,' she said. 'Looks like you're getting a bit excited as well.' Yep, that definitely appeared to be the case.

Her face was inches away from mine, and for once, I didn't recognise her expression. It seemed almost eager, but not quite. 'What's next on the list?' she wanted to know.

I consulted the tablet. 'It says that we should... we should take off our clothes.' Oh dear.

'All of them?'

In my heart I knew that we'd eventually have to take all of our clothes off, but the concept still frightened me. 'It doesn't really say so... although it does say that it's more fun if you take each other's clothes off.'

'Oh, that does sound like fun,' she said. And she started pulling on my T-shirt.

'Hey, wait a minute!' I yelled.

'What?'

'I, eh... oh, what the hell.' I sat up, and let her pull my T-shirt over my head. She neatly folded it up and placed it, very precisely, on the arm of the sofa. She couldn't help being herself.

'Your turn,' she said.

The dress was going to be a bit tricky. I had to pull it from underneath her while she was kneeling on the sofa. She raised her arms, so that I could pull it over her head. I was going to toss it aside, then thought better of it and handed it to her. She again folded it neatly, and put it next to my own T-shirt.

I looked at her chest. She was wearing a blue bra with some lace on it. Her breasts looked nice. Not overly large, not small either, but they were perfectly shaped. She wore blue knickers to match her bra. The knickers had lace as well, but were opaque in certain strategic places.

'Next,' she said. Ah, that would be my jeans. This was a bit more complex. Standing on the sofa was probably not a good idea, so I supported myself on my heels and shoulders, allowing her to pull them down. I felt very exposed now, the tight boxers doing absolutely nothing to hide my erection. And it was very obvious that my sister was looking at it. After she folded my jeans and placed them on top of my T-shirt, that is.

Now came the moment that I was dreading, and Iris looked nervous as well. We would have to take off our underwear, and expose ourselves. Iris decided to make it a little bit easier for me.

'Would you like to take off my bra?' she asked.

'OK,' I said, somewhat relieved.

She turned her back towards me, so that I could undo the clasp. This was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. And women did this behind their backs? Amazing.

But finally, I managed to undo the damn thing. Iris turned around again, so that I could pull the bra off her arms.

Out came her breasts. I stared at them in fascination. I had seen plenty of breasts on my computer, but this was an entirely different kettle of fish. They looked so... natural. So right. They looked perfect to me.

Iris smiled, relieved that her breasts passed the muster. But now it was time for her to pull down my boxers. We repeated the procedure that we used with my jeans.

When she touched my hips, it was like there was electricity flowing between us. Now I lay how nature intended me to be, although arguably nature hadn't intended for my sister to be part of the equation.

I was afraid that Iris would laugh at me. Don't ask me why, she never has and she never will either. But I felt insecure. I suppose it's only natural.

But I needn't have worried. The grin on her face told me that the first visual inspection had passed with flying colours.

She was still folding all our clothes neatly and put them in a pile. But now it was time to add the last garment: her knickers.

I touched her hips. Again, there was the electricity and I had to make an effort not to pull my hands away. Very gently, I took the elastic of her knickers, and pulled them down.

Finally, I got to see her vulva. Well, strictly speaking, I had seen it before. But we had been children then, taking a bath together. That had stopped when we were about six years old. But this was the vulva of a grown woman.

It looked beautiful. There was the same tint of hair, in a neat triangle. At the bottom, the outer lips, with just a hint of the inner lips. She quickly grabbed the knickers from me and folded them, giving her an excuse to kneel and hide her vulva from me. I guessed that she was equally apprehensive as I had been.

'It looks beautiful,' I told her.

'Really?' Her face flushed a little. 'You aren't half bad either, you know,' she added.

Iris lay down now, her long hair radiating like a halo. Still self-conscious, she somewhat ineffectively covered her vulva with one hand, and her breasts with the other. She looked remarkably much like Botticelli's Birth of Venus.

'Venus,' I said.

'What?' asked Iris.

'You remind me of Botticelli. Birth of Venus, the one in the Uffizi in Florence.'

'Well,' she said, 'I'm your Venus, I'm your fire, at your desire.'

'Shocking,' I grinned back.

It was time to consult the list again. It told us to basically keep doing what we were doing before, so kissing and touching.

So that's what we did. Her breasts felt very different from when she was still wearing clothes. And the nipples were fascinating. She liked it when I pinched them. Gently, of course.

The list had also suggested that I could lick her nipples, or suck on them. I wasn't quite sure about that, though. 'Just pretend that you're a baby,' said Iris. And so I did. She really enjoyed it, and told me what to do to make her feel good.

After a while, she grabbed my hand again and guided it towards her vulva. 'Rub me,' she managed to say in between deep breaths. I started rubbing over her outer lips.

'No, not there. Take one finger and put it here... no, a bit to the top... exactly there! Now rub it.'

Ah. So that's where here clitoris was located. I started rubbing it, which proved a bit difficult because I was still licking and sucking her nipple. Multitasking has never been a strong point of mine.

'Just concentrate on the rubbing,' moaned Iris. 'There... that's it.'

So I rubbed her clitoris for several minutes, and it was pretty obvious that she was getting more and more aroused. She was bucking her hips to meet the movement of my fingers, and her breathing got ever deeper. I wonder if I was bringing her to an orgasm.

Suddenly, she took a sharp intake of breath, and let out a large 'ooh!' I'd done it. I had brought her to an orgasm. I was actually quite proud of myself.

I continued rubbing her clitoris, but she moved her legs together and pushed away my hand.

'No more,' she said. 'Too sensitive. Give me a bit of time to recover.'

Once she had recovered from that orgasm, we consulted the tablet again. Next on the list was... Oh dear.

'Oral sex?' I asked. 'It means that you... ah... that you use your mouth on... Look, I don't think I'm ready for this, not yet anyway.'

Iris considered the ramifications of taking my penis into her mouth. 'No, neither am I,' she said.

Which left the final action point: penetration. I looked at her.

'OK,' she said, 'I'm ready. I want you to fuck me.'

'Hey, wait a minute,' I said. 'I don't want to get you pregnant.'

'Don't worry about that. I'm on the pill.' As she saw the confused look on my face, she explained, 'It's because otherwise my menstruation is painful. OK? Just go ahead.'

I glanced at the tablet. 'It says here that we'd best use a towel,' I said.

'Well get the bloody towel before I change my mind!'

I rushed off to the bathroom to get a towel.

* * *

With the towel underneath her bum, it was time. 'What position shall we use?' I asked.

'Let's do missionary,' she replied. 'We can always try more adventurous positions later.'

This, at least, I knew how to do. I'd seen it often enough, after all. I parted her legs, moved up to her, and placed my penis in the general area of her vulva. This was it. I pushed forward.

'Ouch, stop poking me!' yelled Iris.

'Sorry, sorry. I'm not sure I'm in the right place. Could you... guide me?'

She took my penis in her hand --more electricity-- and guided me to her opening. 'Around here, more or less,' she said. I pushed forward again, and this time I slid inside.

Any lingering doubts I might have harboured disappeared instantaneously. Being inside her felt phenomenal. It felt so... so right. And tight. Much tighter than I could ever manage on my own.

The feeling was magnificent, like nothing I'd ever felt before. My penis felt surrounded on all sides by heat and moisture. There was absolutely no comparison with using my hand. It felt... it felt as if my penis had finally gone home. To the place where it really belonged.

I looked down at my twin. 'How is it for you? Does it hurt?' I asked.

In response, she wrapped her arms around my back, and her legs behind my behind, and pulled me in deeper. That was all the encouragement I needed, and I started thrusting into her.

It was absolutely amazing. Having my penis enveloped by this soft, silky, warm, moist vagina, made it feel better and better. And it wasn't just that; it was also feeling the intimacy, the feeling of belonging, the feeling of being connected on so many levels.

All things considered, I didn't even orgasm that quickly. The almost maddening feeling in my penis, her pulling me into her, and the knowledge that I was actually making love rather than just having sex, should have sent me over the edge in seconds. But it lasted quite a bit longer than that, before I felt that familiar feeling, of going over the edge, and emptying myself.

Normally, I kept my orgasms quiet, but now there was no reason. 'Oh my goodness,' I panted. 'Ooooh...'

Iris looked pleased as she felt my penis pulsating, knowing that she had made me ejaculate inside her. 'Oh yes, little brother, come inside your sister,' she said, almost sighed.

I had to roll off her, lest I would collapse and crush her beneath me. As I lay there, panting, she took my hand in hers.

'That, little brother,' she said, 'was fabulous.'

I was indeed. And I knew that social conventions could go and sod themselves. I had found true happiness, for the very first time in my life.

'Tu,' I said, 'sei il grande amore della mia vita. Ti voglio sempre avere al mio fianco.'

You are the love of my life. I always want you by my side.

'Il mio cuore è solo tuo,' she replied. 'Solo tu mi capisci, e con te voglio passare la mia vita.'

My heart is yours alone. Only you understand me, and I want to spend my life with you.

There had always been the feeling that something was missing. Now, that feeling had gone.

We made each other complete.