"Thank you," I said, and then stood up. I went and fetched him a damp wash cloth. He took it; wiped himself; and handed it back to me without a word... His concern for being viewed as a 'man', and not a 'fag', was all important to his sense of self, and I understood that. To have thanked me, in his way of viewing things, would have placed him inside the 'faggot' category, and that was something he would never accept. So I thanked HIM, instead; even though he didn't acknowledge the reason for. " He said. It was the first time he'd used that tone, like he was telling me instead of asking. "I can't reach the zipper." Ok." I agreed.But when I started to pull it down, he grabbed my hand. "Hey, big bro, do you ever wish I was a girl?" Not really." I remember shrugging. "Why?" Then I'd have real titties." He pulled my hand around and held it against his chest. "So you could play with them." I wouldn't play with my sister's tits, Mo." I tried to pull my hand away, but his grip was too. More

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