"It's okay," I said to myself. "We're doing nothing wrong."

I was still telling myself that when I piled into Amanda's car with my other sisters. It wasn't wrong, and we weren't hurting anybody. We are both consenting adults that only met a few days ago. We had no childhood memories to draw on and nothing that made us feel like anything other than a man and a woman.

I was so distracted by my own thoughts that I didn't pay attention to any of the conversation going on in the car. If the girls had asked me any questions, I'd failed to answer, and they didn't push it.

I...