I was 23 at the time this happened.
I was driving from Indiana to Nebraska to be married, and my 20-year-old sister Angela, who was to be a bridesmaid, traveled with me. We had been close as teenagers but had not seen much of each other in the past six years. The hours of driving passed quickly as we got each other caught up on our recent lives. At the start I was still thinking of her as the high school cheerleader she once was, but I soon found her to be a fully-formed young adult who read books, thought about things, and had her own original outlook on life. Plus she had progressed from cute to beautiful, so beautiful that I couldn't keep from continually glancing her way as I drove.
By late evening we were in central Iowa and realized we still had a long distance to travel, so we decided to stop somewhere for the night. Motels were full, but I finally found one that had one room, with a double bed. 'We'd better register as man and wife,' I told Angela. 'I guess I can endure the humiliation,' she said, and twisted the ring on her finger around so that it looked like a wedding ring. I wondered where she had learned that. We were very proper. I usually slept naked, but I had brought along a new pair of pajamas for my much-anticipated wedding night, so I put those on. Angela's pajamas also looked brand new. Once in bed, we kissed each other lightly on the lips (a family custom) and went promptly to sleep. In the morning, however, I awoke with a raging hard on. I had been holding off on masturbation for the past few days, saving resources for the wedding night. Angela was already up and dressed. To get to the bathroom I hunched over, but my erection was still obvious and, although she said nothing, Angela made no effort to pretend she hadn't noticed. In the bathroom it was all I could do to keep from masturbating, but the proverbial cold shower brought me down to a presentable level.
Back on the road, we kept up a steady stream of conversation ranging from politics (it turned out we had both outgrown our conservative upbringing) to Angela's love life, which, though she gave no specifics, appeared to have been much more varied than my own. We arrived at our destination to find my bride-to-be Connie in a state of high anxiety because we were on the verge of being late for the wedding rehearsal. The rehearsal was a bore for everyone. Afterward Connie and I drove out to a hill where we had spent many an hour of 'hot petting,' as it was called then. But that evening we agreed to abstain and to just talk instead. It did not go well. After an hour the realization came crushing down on me: We have nothing to talk about! Why didn't I know that already? Because, I realized, we had never tried it. Between the 'hot petting' and other amusements, we had kept ourselves pleasantly occupied with never any time devoted to the kind of talk that I had enjoyed so many hours of with my sister.
By the next morning I felt myself being torn apart inside. Not until we were all dressed and ready for the afternoon ceremony did my mind settle on a decision. 'I can't go through with it,' I told Connie, without trying to explain. She cried. The anger, I figured, would come later. But it didn't come later for her father, who told me in colorful language what a low-down worm I was, how he had never trusted me, et cetera, et cetera. 'You made the right choice,' Angela whispered to me. We changed out of our wedding clothes and, after apologizing to my best man, who had also come a distance for the wedding, headed for my car. Final irony: Somebody had already tied tin cans to it and stuck a 'Hot Springs Tonight' poster on the trunk. So we drove away amid a great clatter. I waited till we were well out of town before stopping to remove the evidence.
I realize there hasn't been much in the way of a sexual storyline up to this point, but I think it's necessary background for Part II, where things take a different path.