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Megan's Brother

By: Hot_Sister



This is not a short story: it takes time to build up, so if you are after a quick stroke tale then you may wish to look elsewhere. Similarly, if you are squeamish about anal sex this story probably isn't for you. 

All of the characters who engage in sexual intercourse are over the age of 18. 

Megan's Brother

Megan Jane Symonds was twelve years old when the police knocked on the door. For the rest of her life she would remember the faces of the two detectives as clearly as if they were standing next to her. She would remember their voices, too, and the exact words they had exchanged as she stood on the doorstep. 

'Miss Symonds?'

'Yes?'

'This is Detective Sergeant White and I'm Detective Inspector Lomax. May we speak to your father?'

'Um -- I think he's still at work.'

'I see. Is your mother here?'

'Yes, she's inside.' Meg was flustered. She'd never thought the police would be at their door.

'Can we come in?'

She led them through the long hallway adorned with paintings --lavish works by Margaret Olley and George Gittoes and Josh Bowes, each set in its own illuminated alcove to better capture the rich harvest of their colour and texture. The thick oatmeal coloured carpet muted their footsteps so they arrived at the Drawing Room unannounced. Her mother was seated by the tall French windows gazing out over the expanse of lawn, and she glanced up as they entered. 

'Mum, it's the police,' Meg said. 'They want to speak to Dad.'

Olivia Symonds smiled. 'Thank you, Meg,' and she turned to the nearest Detective. 'May I help you?'

'Are you Olivia Margaret Symonds?'

'I am.'

'Married to George Montgomery Symonds?'

'Yes.'

'Then I must inform you I have a warrant for his arrest.'

Meg remembered the shock of his words but her mother's face remained impassive. 'On what charge?'

Detective White studied her for a moment. 'It's a matter of some sensitivity, Mrs. Symonds.' He glanced at Meg who was standing to one side. 'Perhaps we might talk alone for a moment?'

'No,' Olivia said. 'We have no secrets in this family - Megan can stay.' She crossed her arms. 'Now, what is this about?'

'The charge against your husband is embezzlement and fraud.'

'That's ridiculous.'

'That is not for us to decide, Mrs. Symonds. Do you know where your husband is?'

'He's gone to pick up his new car.'

'In Sydney?'

'Yes.'

'I see.' The Detective smiled briefly, as a spider might when it sees a fly becoming entangled in its web. She saw him look around the room, observing the rich opulence of its furnishings. 'Does he change his car often?'

'About once a -' Olivia stopped suddenly, aware of the implication of her words. 'Look,' she said. 'I think you should leave. I will ask my husband to call you when he arrives, when we have spoken to our solicitor.'

The Detective stood his ground. 'There is another matter, Mrs. Symonds.' He glanced at Meg again. 'The warrant also bears the charge of bigamy.'

Meg saw her mother stagger under the words, but she recovered quickly. 'That's preposterous. How could he have the time -'

'I am not here to offer an opinion, Mrs. Symonds, I am here to execute the warrant.'

Olivia stared at him, her face pale. 'I see. Well, he's not back yet. Perhaps you could return later, once I've had a chance to sort this out.' 

'We would prefer to wait.'

Afterwards, Meg remembered every detail of that dreadful evening: how the two Detectives perched uneasily on the edges of their chairs whilst her mother sat silently on the sofa opposite them; at last the sound of her father's car, and the way her mother asked her to tell him he had guests waiting. She recalled the expression on his face as they read him his rights and she remembered the metallic snick of the cufflinks being fastened and the set of her mother's shoulders as he was led away. 

Olivia Symonds did not come down the stairs to the waiting car, but Meg did. It was dark by then and she stayed close to her father, hoping that he would say something -- perhaps to tell her it wasn't true and that it was all a dreadful mistake, but he was silent. And so she watched him put in the car and driven away, and she went back inside to comfort her mother with little understanding of just how much their lives were about to change. 

Six Years Later

Doctor Elizabeth Roberts smiled as the woman entered her surgery and rose to greet her. 

'Olivia! It's been a long time. How are you?'

'I'm good, thanks Doctor.' 

'Please, take a seat.' She waited until her patient settled in the comfy chair opposite her desk and then sat down herself. 'Now, what can I do for you?'

Olivia closed her eyes briefly. She could hear the clock on the wall behind her ticking and the muted sound of traffic from the busy street outside the tall glass windows, but otherwise the room was quiet. She felt it had been a lifetime since she had been able to sit quietly for a moment, and she did not want to relinquish the sensation. 

'Olivia?' the doctor prompted. 

'What? Oh, yes...sorry.' She smiled slightly. 'It's just I don't often get to sit and relax. What did you say?'

'I asked what I could do for you.'

'Nothing, Doctor. Really, I'm fine. I came to talk about Meghan.'

'Your daughter?'

'Yes.'

'And what's the problem with Meg?'

'Well...I -- um, I think she is becoming increasingly isolated.'

'In what way?'

'Well, I mean she has no friends. She trusts nobody except David, her brother. I'm worried she will never have any sort of meaningful relationship. She is lonely, I think, and I don't know where it will lead to.'

'Has she always been like this?'

Olivia sighed. She knew her answer would open the old wounds and it always seemed to invoke the same response from people: expressions of regret tinged by a gleam of salacious judgment in their eyes. 'No,' she replied. 'It started when my husband was convicted of fraud and bigamy.'

Liz remembered the case. The story of George Symond's two wives and his life of deceit and duplicity had been rich pickings for the gutter press, and she didn't need a medical degree to know that everyone involved would have suffered some kind of damage. 

'Tell me what happened,' she asked gently. 

Slowly at first, and then with increasing confidence, the older woman told of the shock of hearing the charge all those years ago and how she had been utterly convinced of his innocence; and how that conviction had been gradually eaten away by the weight of evidence until her whole marriage seemed a shallow vessel founded only on a bed of lies. She told of the feeling of helplessness and the relentless pursuit of the press and the lurid stories of her and the children, and of the bullying and abuse they had received at school. 

'Meg and David were both popular,' she whispered. 'I mean, they had lots of friends -- but within a few days Meg's friends in particular had turned against her. Not one of them was prepared to stand beside her.' Olivia's voice was bitter. 'And then the money ran out and we had to move, and things just seemed to get worse and worse.' She shook her head. 'Within a few months Meg started to say she'd never trust anyone again.'

'Why wasn't David affected?'

Olivia shrugged. 'He's older than Meg, and he's always been pragmatic. And I think his friends, being males, were probably more accepting of what George had done.' Her mouth twisted. 'It would seem that men can understand what he did...perhaps even accept or condone it. I'm not saying that David wasn't affected, but he just seemed to handle it better. In fact he took over running the house, as much as a teenage boy could.'

'So is Meg still at school? She'd be what -- seventeen now?'

'Eighteen. She was eighteen last week.' Olivia shook her head. 'She left school two years ago even though she is very bright. She could have done so well, but she left even before Higher School Certificate. She moped around for a while and then found little jobs to do -- you know, working in MacDonald's, waiting on tables.' It was about then that she started making up stories.'

'Stories?' the doctor prompted. 

'I'd started seeing someone -- a man called Bob Miller. He worked in the office and he had been very supportive all through the time when things were tough...anyway, we started going out and I took him home a few times. Meg was very hostile -- she just couldn't accept that he wasn't going to do the same as her father.' She sighed. 'I'd hoped that she would come round: you know, gradually come to see that he was a kind and decent man who cared for us, but she didn't. Things seemed to go from bad to worse until she finally drove him away two years ago.'

'How would a sixteen year old do that?'

Olivia was silent for a few moments, remembering the evening it had all gone bad. 'We were in the lounge and Meg confronted us...she said that Bob had tried to touch her in the kitchen and if he ever tried to do it again she'd cut off his penis with a carving knife.' She smiled faintly. 'I've always taught her to speak her mind.' 

'I see. Do you think there was any substance to her accusation?'

'Oh no. Bob was a decent man...he was devastated by what she said. He stopped seeing me after that...said it was better if he stayed away.'

'And what was Meg's relationship with you after it happened?'

Olivia shrugged. 'She's never confided in me again. Not ever. She goes to David if she wants to talk about anything.'

The doctor nodded. She could see the picture now: of a girl distrustful of men except for her brother. 'So what is Meg doing now?'

'What do you mean?'

'Is she still at home? Is she working?'

'Yes, she's still living at home and so is David. He's in his first year in medicine, so he's really busy. Meg has just started as an apprentice hairdresser.'

'Does she have anyone special? A boyfriend, perhaps?'

'Nobody. She told me once that David is the only guy she'll ever trust.' Olivia opened her purse and extracted a photograph, and she leaned over the desk to show the doctor. 'She's a pretty girl, don't you think?'

Liz took the proffered print. It was in black and white and was heavily creased from handling. She studied the oval face for a moment, observing the bright intelligence in the wide set eyes and the symmetry of her features. The girl's hair was tied back and her head was tilted slightly, as if she was questioning the photographer, and she was smiling. There was no doubt that she had developed into a young woman of exceptional beauty. 

'She certainly is,' Liz agreed. 'With looks like that I imagine she is always being asked out?'

Olivia shrugged. 'I guess. I've never seen her go out on a date, though, and she doesn't tell me about her personal life. ' 

'And what about David? Does he date?'

'He has girlfriends, but none that I would call long lasting...you know, casual friendships. But recently he's been seeing more and more of one in particular...Susan. I think if it develops into something Meg would be devastated.'

'And what about you, Olivia? Have you had any close relationships after Bob?'

The older woman sighed. 'I've decided I can't keep on being alone just because she disapproves, so...well, yes, I've recently started seeing someone again...a man. Meg is older now, but she still finds it very difficult to accept.'

The Doctor nodded. 'I see. I don't imagine she gets on with him.'

'Oh no. She refuses to have anything to do with him. She says she doesn't trust him and I'll end up being hurt again, and she makes a point of being out of the house whenever he's around.' She stared down into her lap. 'I'm terrified she'll accuse him of sexual assault too, and -- well, it's made her even more dependent on David, if anything, and I'm worried...' her voice trailed off. 

'Worried about what?' the doctor prompted gently. 

Olivia looked up into the Doctor's eyes. 'Look, it's not like they have done anything,' she said, 'you know -- like, inappropriate. They are good kids, but Meg -- well, she's never been out with a boy and there's only David. Her life just...well, it seems to revolve around him. She seems almost obsessed by him. And, well, if he... when he finds someone else she'll be left with nothing at all.'

Liz Roberts thought for a moment. She recalled again the savagery of the press reports, and she understood how a young and impressionable girl would have felt her world had been ripped apart. Her life of friends and privilege and luxury had been torn from her grasp and she had been left with deep-seated mistrust of everything she had believed to be secure. And she only had her brother because even her mother had drifted away. 

'Olivia, I really need to see Meg,' she said. 'Do you think she would agree to that?'

'No, I don't.' She shook her head. 'If I ask her she will think I've been meddling.' 

'You should see if you can convince her.'

Olivia considered for a moment. 'All right.'

'Could you let me know how you go?'

'Very well.' Olivia regarded the Doctor. 'Do you think there is a serious problem?'

'I think it is worth a look. In the meantime David must do nothing to make her feel rejected. That's really important.' Liz Roberts rose and offered her hand. 'And don't worry,' she finished.

'That's like telling me not to breathe.'

'I know. But we'll work though this Olivia, I promise.'

But as she left the Doctor's office, Olivia was blissfully unaware that the one thing she had been warned about was happening that very moment in her home. 

*

It had been a hot, sultry afternoon and business was so slow that her boss decided to shut up the shop early. Meg stopped off at the corner store for an ice cream and ate it slowly as she walked home. 

The first clue that someone was home was the unlocked front door. She pushed it open quietly, worried there may be intruders but the downstairs rooms in the little house were silent. She climbed the stairs on soft footsteps, her senses on full alert, and she moved down the corridor to check her mother's room and David's. Both were quiet. 

But as she began to relax, she heard a soft sound from further down the corridor -- a shuffling noise like the sound of a chair being moved, followed by the murmur of muted voices. She stood for a moment listening, poised for flight, her heart hammering in her chest. It was evident the sounds came from her own bedroom and she imagined intruders were going through her meagre belongings. For a long time she listened but she heard no further sounds, and so she drew up the courage to creep softly down the corridor. She could see her bedroom door was ajar and from behind it she heard the sound of a soft giggle, followed by a low groan. 

With a racing heart Meg stopped outside and peered in. Her view was restricted by a narrow gap between door and jamb, but she perceived Susan Clarke kneeling naked on her bed. Her head was pressed against the mattress and she was looking back at a figure behind her, and her voice was gusty with passion. 

'Ah, ah! David,' she said. 'Ah -- God, yes -- there...right there.'

Meg shifted her stance to afford a view of what was happening behind the kneeling girl and she saw her brother on the floor, his hands gripping her buttocks and his face buried between them. His eyes were closed and Meg could hear the wet sounds of his mouth as it worked between the globes of white flesh.

'Deeper, David! Push deeper,' the girl whispered. She wriggled her hips and her breasts wobbled in sympathy. 'Oh, God, yes! Just there! Fuck...fuck...just there!' she turned her head and stared at him, and Meg could see the brightness of her eyes. 'Push it in...eat me inside.'

Meg staggered back as if she had received a heavy blow to her gut. She'd known about Susan of course, but had thought she was just a passing trend like his other girlfriends. A surge of white hot anger swept through her - a burning, incandescent rage that her brother should forsake her for this whining slag with her thin voice and white pendulous breasts, and that he should choose to fuck on her bed. She could feel her heart racing, the beats thudding in her ears like the rhythm of an executioner's drum, and she heard the girl's words as she writhed on the bed before her. 

'Jesus God David! Ah -- no more, no more. Put it in now. Fuck me now!' She rolled onto her back and spread her legs and Meg saw the opening between them, pink and wet and raw. 

David Symonds scrambled to his feet and climbed over her. Meg saw her brother's cock as he positioned it at the entrance to the girl's weeping gash, and her stomach churned with rage. She lifted her hand to throw open the door but the sound of the girl's voice arrested her. 

'Fuck me in your sister's bed!' she demanded. 'Fuck me, David...cum into me. Spurt into me!' Her hands fluttered on his back like trapped birds, and her voice was hoarse with passion. 

Meg crouched down and pressed her face to the gap in the door, and she watched with hooded eyes. The reference to her bed intrigued her. Why were they using it, when David had one of his own just a few yards down the corridor? Was it some kind of sexual fetish, or was there another reason? Her anger subsided quickly to be replaced by a sudden warmth in the base of her belly. She could see the girl's legs crossed over David's back and the taut cheeks of his buttocks as he positioned himself. She saw his bulbous head engaging between the thick wet lips, and she heard the girl's tremulous words as she felt its silken touch.

'Yes, David...ah, yes! Push it in!'

David's buttocks clenched as he drove forward and Meg saw his cock disappear into the gaping maw. Beads of moisture oozed from around the shaft, and she heard his groan of pleasure. 

Meg knew all about sex. She'd engaged in petting from time to time but hadn't enjoyed it as she didn't particularly like the boys who'd done it, nor did she trust them. She'd watched porn too, but with a clinical interest rather than sexual as the performances always seemed staged to her. Now she was seeing a real performance not a dozen feet in front of her eyes, and it had a raw sensuality that affected her deeply. She could hear their sighs and the wet slap of their flesh and see the cream rimming their point of union. She could even smell the sharp tang of their sexual juices, rich and thick in the back of her throat. She pressed her own fingers to the junction of her thighs and she hunkered down with her eye at the door. 

'Ah, ah,' the girl was groaning. 'Ah, God yes, that's good! That's  sooo good, David.' She reached down and seized her brother's buttocks, pulling him in deeper. Meg could see the tight encircling ring of her vulva stretched around him, bulging with each thrust, and she watched as their coupling became more frenetic. Her fingers churned at her own sex, pressing hard, circling the exquisitely sensitive nub down there. She had never seen David's cock this way before and was mesmerized by its size and the way it fitted into the void before it. 

'Jesus....Jesus, I'm cumming! Ah, fuck -- here it comes!' Susan moaned. Her voice rose to a shriek and she arched her back, her hands fluttering over his back as he thrust deeply. Meg saw her cunt clench tightly around her brother, and she heard his tremulous cries as his own orgasm swept upon him like a Tsunami. 'Me too, Susan...ah, ah, here it comes,' he cried. 'Fuck, fuck, you're tight...I'm cumming into you...I'm cumming...aaarrgh!' His thrusts were suddenly arrested and Meg saw his balls pulsing as he unloaded into the wriggling girl beneath him. She twitched spasmodically as his seed filled her, her fingers gripping him to hold his body close. 

For long moments afterwards they were still. David was murmuring something quietly, but Meg could not hear his words. At length the girl uncrossed her legs and David withdrew from her, his shaft shiny with their juices. He climbed off her supine body and sat on the side of the bed, gazing down at her without expression. Between her open thighs Meg could see his sperm dribbling from her vagina, startlingly white against the suffused pink of her gaping lips, and she saw drops of it fall onto the bedspread like pearls on the crimson surface. 


Megan's Brother



'You'd better go,' he said at last. 

'Don't you want seconds?' the girl said. She reached up and stroked his thigh, her fingers moving languorously over his skin. 'I've got another place for you to try -'

'No. She'll be home soon.' He glanced down at her, noticing the ooze between her legs. 'And you'd better wipe that up. I don't want her to know.'

Susan pushed herself up and peered down at her sex. The movement caused more of David's seed to seep out of her body, and she watched as it dribbled onto the rumpled cover beneath her. 'That's a little souvenir for your sister,' she said and she giggled briefly, an empty frivolous sound. 'She won't know what it is anyway, she's so dumb.'

'Don't talk about Meg like that,' David said sharply.

Susan laughed. 'Oooo! Sensitive about your little sister, are we?' she said. 'So why did you want to do it in her room if she's so wonderful?'

'My bed's broken. It was either this one or Mum's.'

'Well, let's use your mother's next time. I'll let you shag me in the bum on her pillow.'

David stood up abruptly. 'Don't be filthy.' He reached down and pulled her arm. 'Now, get out before Meg gets home. I told you, I don't want her to know.'

An expression of malice spread over Susan's face. 'Your bed isn't broken, is it?' she said. 'You just wanted to get your rocks off thinking about fucking your precious little sister.'

'I told you not to talk like that,' David replied angrily. 'Now get out.'

Susan pushed herself up, her breasts swinging pendulously. 'Don't worry, I'm going.' She bent down and stepped into her dress, sliding it up over her body and fastening it with the zipper. She raked her fingers through her tangled hair and bent to pick up her handbag. 'Well, good luck with fucking Meg,' she said nastily. 'You know she's as dry as a Nun, don't you?'

'Get out.'

Susan opened her mouth to respond, but Meg dared not stay a moment longer to listen. She turned and ran softly along the corridor and down the stairs, remembering to miss the squeaky step two from the bottom. She opened the front door and then shut it again loudly, as if she had just arrived home. Her mind was reeling with what she had seen and heard, but she greeted Susan with a bright smile as she came down the stairs. 

'Hey, Susan.'

'Hey, Meg.' She walked towards the door, her face like thunder. 'You know, your brother is a real asshole sometimes.'

'Really? What's he done?'

'He -- well, it's a long story.' The girl opened the door. 'But tell from me to fuck off, will you?' Her eyes lingered on Meg for a moment. 'And tell him he's a fucking pervert.'

'I will,' Meg said sweetly. 'It's funny, though, that's exactly what he said about you.'

Susan opened her mouth to respond but shut it again without speaking. She glared at Meg before spinning on her heel and slamming the door. 

Meg waited downstairs until David arrived. He was wearing jeans and a tee shirt and his feet were bare. 'So what was Susan doing upstairs?' she asked shortly. 

David seemed unaware of her anger. 'She wanted to use the bathroom.'

'I see.' Meg had never known David to lie before and she didn't like it. It confirmed in her mind that having other girls was bad for him. 'She looked upset.'

'You know Susan. She's always upset about something.'

'She told me to tell you to fuck off, and that you're a pervert.' Meg watched his face closely.

'Really?'

'Why does she think you're a pervert?'

'Beats me.' David smiled at his sister. 'Maybe she is jealous of you, Sis.'

'Jealous of me?'

'Sure.' David walked into the kitchen and she followed him, watching as he opened the fridge. He took out a carton of milk and drank from it, leaving a little white moustache on his top lip, and he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. His eyes softened as he regarded her and he smiled. 'She thinks I'm soft on you,' he explained.

Meg examined her brother. She looked at him just about every day but perhaps she'd taken him for granted: a comfortable constant in the house. He'd always been of slender build but she saw how he'd bulked out: his arms were smoothly muscled and his chest filled his shirt. His eyes were startlingly blue and the hair that curled around his ears was dark blonde shot through with streaks of gold, and his smile was amazing. Her anger towards him was suddenly torn by an awareness that he really was so much better than any other of the insipid boys she knew. 

She realised David was staring at her, waiting for an answer. 'And are you?' she said, 'soft on me, I mean.' Her heart was thudding in her chest.

'Always.' He smiled at her, his eyes in contact with hers for a few moments. He was struck again how different she was to Susan, not just physically but in temperament too. Susan was large boned and inclined to plumpness, and was often moody. Meg, on the other hand, was much smaller but her body was in perfect proportion, each part fitting together like those of an exquisite china doll. He allowed his eyes to roam over her briefly, taking in the trim waist and pert breasts and the delicate bone structure of her shoulders and neck. She was generally good tempered, too, which is why they got on so well together. 

'Hey,' he said. 'Mum told me she'd be late tonight...she had an appointment in town or something. Do you fancy a pizza? It'd be my shout. We could go down to Giovanni's and eat it there, and have a beer.'

Meg nodded. She hadn't forgiven him but it would an opportunity to talk, which didn't seem to happen much any more. 

'Sure.'

'Great.' He closed the fridge. 'I'll grab a shower, and we could head off then, if you're ready.'

*

The little Italian Bistro was busy, as always, but they found a table in the corner and waited for their meal. Meg surveyed the crowd to see if there was anybody there she knew. A few of the local girls were sitting nearby and she suddenly wondered if her brother had slept with any of them as well. There was so much about him that she didn't know. 

She decided to take the direct approach. 'So why are you seeing Susan?' she asked. 

'What do you mean?'

'I mean she's already married.'

'She's separated, Meg, and she doesn't expect any commitment.' 

'She's a skank,' Meg said, 'and she's not separated, she just likes sleeping around.'

David shrugged. 'I wouldn't know. She seems OK to me.' He nodded towards the table of girls opposite. 'So which of those would be better?'

Meg examined the girls. They were younger than her, each with different features and colouring but she perceived there was marked similarity in the way they dressed and the accessories they carried, as if they were all from the same tribe. An adjective popped into her mind to describe them. Vapid. That was what she had thought of Susan, and now she saw it applied to these girls as well. Vapid - a good word to describe how insipid, dull and intellectually empty they were. She glanced at David, who was examining them with open interest, and she experienced a surge of anger that he should even look at them. 

'None of them,' she said sharply. 'They're nothing but a bunch of little tarts.' 

David laughed. 'Wow! Tell me what you really think.' 

Meg leaned forward and her words were crisp. 'You want to know what I think? Well, I'll tell you. I think they don't have one whole brain between them. I think they are out to get as much pleasure as they can in the shortest possible time, and they don't care with whom or how. I think they are shallow and worthless.' Her voice was bitter.

The smile slipped from David's face and he reached across the table and grasped her arm. 'Hey, I'm only asking, Meg. So what's got into you this evening?'

'I already told you - you can do better.'

David shrugged. 'Well I'm sorry you don't approve, Sis. You don't like Susan and you don't seem to like any other girls -- so who would you have me with?'

But before Meg could reply the meal arrived and the rest of the evening was spent in idle chatter. 

*

That night Meg lay in her bed and thought about David. 

She had always thought him good and kind and honest, but what she had seen today had shaken that belief. Before climbing into bed she had changed the sheets and the bedspread to remove any trace of Susan Clarke, but somehow she could still smell the rank odour of her sex and hear her cries of pleasure as David spurted inside her; and she remembered too the lies that slipped from his lips afterwards, like poisoned honey. 

She and David had supported each other when the family fell from a life of riches and easy indulgence to harder times, and it had forged a relationship beyond that of normal siblings. Meg had waited for the love and support and unity that carried them through those dark days to blossom as life moved on, but it had not. She could see now that her transition to womanhood had become a silent barrier that had stunted their relationship, and that in not seeing it before she had been complicit in their gradual drift apart. Perhaps she had taken it for granted...perhaps, if she had been ugly instead of beautiful, it would have been different. In any case it was evident that the early bonds that bound them together were not enough for David any more. She had watched his face as he took Susan Clarke and tonight she had seen his hungry eyes roaming over the painted faces of the nearby girls, lingering on their young faces and breasts and thighs. She could see him imagining how they would look as he fucked them: their limbs twitching and their features twisted in pleasure, and how it would feel as he splashed his sperm deep into their wriggling bodies. He is slipping away, she thought,  and I will lose him.  The question was, could she live with that? 

In the silence of the night she understood she could never do without him. He was a rock in her life, someone to cling to when the storm clouds gathered, and he was so much better than anyone other person she had ever met. She remembered how he looked as he drank from the carton of milk, and the way he had wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, his lips soft and warm. She saw again the way he smiled, and she remembered his words... 'I'm soft on you, Meg', and his eyes told her that he was not lying: he did love her, but not the way she wanted. Perhaps he took her for granted too, but what could she do about it? 

And then she remembered his question in the café:  'so who would you have me with, Meg?' It was a demand framed in frustration and she hadn't answered it, but now in the silence of her room she did so and her words echoed softly in the darkness.  'Me, David. You could have me'. 

And in the quiet moments before sleep she thought about what she would do to keep him, and how she might do it.

*

'What are you doing over Christmas, David?' Meg regarded him over a bowl of cereal. She was still in her pajamas, in deference to it being a Sunday and because she knew she looked good in the skimpy baby-doll outfit. 

'I've signed up for a stint with the Army Reserve, but that's only until the 20th. After that, not much.'

Meg pouted. It was the first she'd heard about the Army thing and she was put out. 'Army Reserve? So what's that all about?'

'They take you away for two weeks and teach you a bunch of stuff and give you money. Sounds like fun so I've signed up.'

Meg did a quick calculation. She'd been saving a little bit from each pay and had enough for a beachside cottage rental for a few days but not over the expensive Christmas week.

'How much money do they give you?' she asked, deviously.

David's eyes strayed to his sister's body again, just as they had ever since she flounced into the room. He could see her breasts pressed against the fabric of her pajama top that was, as far as he could tell, struggling to keep them in. He'd never thought of Meg as having big boobs but they sure looked adequate this morning. The lack of a bra suggested there wouldn't be knickers either, and he found himself wondering if the gusset of her little pajama shorts was wedged between her lips, and how wet -

'Hello...earth calling David,' she called. 'Is there anybody there?'

'Um -- about eight hundred a week, tax free.'

'I see.' She fastened her brown eyes on him. 'Well, have I got a deal for you.'

'Why aren't I surprised?'

'No, no, you'll really like this deal, I promise,' she said earnestly. 'It involves a good time for you.'

David's eyes fell to her breasts again. 'Really? How good?'

Meg saw the direction of his gaze and laughed. 'Well, perhaps not that good, but good enough.' She paused for a moment, waiting for his eyes to move from her chest. 'How would you like to spend a few days in a beach cottage after you come back from your Army thing?'

'Who with?'

'Me, silly! Just you and me, sharing a house -- we could go swimming and surfing and do stuff. It would be fun.'

'We already share a house, Meg.'

'This would be different...we wouldn't be working and Mum wouldn't be there. We'd be able to talk again, to have fun.'

David knew what she meant. Since he started his medical degree there seemed to be so little time together, and he missed the camaraderie they once had. He knew she didn't have any friends close enough to go to the beach with and he couldn't remember when she had last had a holiday. Probably before Dad was put away, and that seemed a lifetime ago. Besides, he could do far worse than spending a few days looking at Meg in a swimming costume. 

'So who's paying?' he asked.

'I've got a bit put away,' she said, 'enough for three or four days but not the higher rent over the Christmas period. If you can make up the difference I can book it.'

'Okay.'

'Really?'

'Sure.'

Meg leapt to her feet and scooted round the table to jump onto his lap. 'You're a champ!' She clung to him with her arms around his neck, her body warm though the thin material of her pajamas, and she pressed her lips to his neck. 'Thanks.'

'It'll be fun,' he said. He could feel the cheeks of her bum on his leg, straddling his thigh like two oranges in a bag, and her hair smelled of apple and cinnamon. He struggled to keep his mind on the subject. 'In fact, I'll pay for the food and grog as well.'

She cupped his face with her hands and looked into his eyes. 'Thanks, Stud.'

'You're welcome. Now, get off.' David was uncomfortably aware that his cock was rapidly coming to attention and it was only a matter of time before she felt it too.

'Really? Don't you like me sitting here?'

'I love it, Meg, but you've not got much on and I'm only human.' He moved his hands to her hips to lift her off, but the delicious warmth of her curves under his fingers only made things worse. 

'Ah, sorry,' she said. 'I'm getting off...ah, here we go -' she wriggled on his lap in an exaggerated movement, her buns brushing back and forth on his leg and her mound grinding against him. 'Oops, sorry -- ah, almost lost my balance...there...right, I'm off.' She stood lightly on her feet and glanced down at his lap, her eyes shining with laughter. 'Oh my! I see what you mean. Wow, did I do that?'

'You and that little nightie. Make sure you leave it at home when we go on holidays. It's trouble.'

Meg smiled at him. 'Sure, if that's what you really want. You need to think what the alternative might be, though.'

David did, and it was a disturbing thought. 

 ***

It was a five hour drive to the cottage and they talked most of the way. David told her of his Army adventures. He'd come home on the last day in his field cams and she had immediately christened him 'Soldier.'

'So where did you live?' Meg asked. 

'In barracks for the first few days and then in tents in the field.'

'Just guys?'

He glanced at her. 'Nope. There were some girls there too. Army has a gender neutral policy.'

'You sound like an advertising brochure.' Meg lowered the pitch of her voice and gave a passible impersonation of him. 'Army has a gender neutral policy!' She laughed. 'A gender neutral policy!...hmmm, let me think what the fuck that means -- ah, I know, they de-sex you when you join up.' 

David laughed with her. 'Hardly, although it might have been good idea for some of the guys there. They spent more time trying to get into the girls' pants than they did working.'

'Really? And what about you? 

'Left them alone. I have a principle of avoiding any woman who carries a gun.'

'Good thought. I'm going to buy Susan a six-shooter for Christmas.'

David chuckled. 'You're really worried about her, aren't you?'

'Me? Nah, never give her a thought.'

'That's not true. That's about the twentieth comment you've made about her. What do you think is going on between her and me, Sis? This isn't a lifetime commitment thing you know.'

'I just want the best for you, Soldier, and she's not even close.'

'Right.' David didn't want to talk about Susan. He was here, with Meg, and they had a whole week together and he was looking forward to it, and Susan's pussy would still be available when he got home. He thought life didn't get much better. 

The road wound down the escarpment, passing through a patch of dense forest where the sun was filtered by the canopy above, the light flickering green and gold as the car twisted through a series of hairpin bends; and then suddenly they were out onto the coastal plain and the country opened up to lush fields with neat white fences and farm cottages scattered here and there. David thought even the air felt different, somehow: warmer and thicker, as if it was caressing you, and he felt his senses quicken. 

They followed the coastal road and eventually arrived at the small village where the cottage was, pulling up outside the general store where the key was kept. It was cool inside, and they approached the counter. 

'I'm here to pick up the key to the cottage,' David asked the shopkeeper. He glanced at the paperwork in his hand. 'Um -- No 57 Beachview.' He put his license and booking confirmation on the counter.

The man nodded, and picked a key off a nearby rack. His eyes flickered over David and then settled on Meg, stood beside him. She was wearing a white shirt and shorts and the man thought she was by far the best looking girl he had seen that week. 

'The cottage is a bit rough,' he said, 'but you should be right. Let me know if you need anything.'

'Sure.'

The man waved his arm in the general direction of the road. 'Turn left at the end, last house on the right. It's the one on its own, like. You can't miss it.'

'Thanks.' David picked up the key. 'So what's there to do around here?'

'Not much. Fish, swim, and -' his eyes rested on Meg again, and he thought that if he was with her he would never have asked that question '- stay in bed,' he said.

They walked around the cottage. The man was right, it was rough but then the rent had been less than all the others. It had boasted two bedrooms but one of them was so small they thought it was a cupboard. It was clean, though, and the verandah did have a view of the sea. They stood in the lounge, looking though the big double doors to the ocean. 

The afternoon sun was streaming in through the half open shutters to one side of the room and David saw how each band of light highlighted a different part of his sister: the small neat head with its mane of wheat-coloured hair and dark eyes and soft, pink lips; the tight tee shirt stretched over her breasts and the creamy band of her midriff, peeping from under her shirt. One leg was thrust slightly forward of the other and at their juncture he could see a deep crease in the white cotton shorts she was wearing, highlighting the lustre of her skin below them. His eyes slid back to her face to find she was watching him quietly with a small smile upon her lips, and there was an expression in her eyes he had never seen before. 




Megan's Brother



He felt his stomach lurch at her beauty. I try, he thought to himself. I try so hard not to think of her that way.  The image of what he did to Susan flashed into his mind and he remembered how, when he closed his eyes, he imagined it was Meg. The thought triggered a familiar twist of guilt, and when he tried to speak he found his mouth as dry as dust.

'Come on, Sis,' he managed at last. 'Let's go and find the beach.'

'Sure. Give me a minute to change.'

David went into the little bedroom and pulled on his bathing suit. By the time he finished Meg was already there, standing by the verandah door in the smallest bikini he had ever seen. It was bright red, what there was of it, and it was secured by little strings either side of her hips and at the centre of her back: in fact, as far as he could see from the rear view it was only string. 

'Wow!' he said. 'Holy crap, Meg! Tell me that there's more in the front of that costume than there is at the back.'

She turned and smiled at him, and he saw there were three little panels of material each one smaller than his hand: just enough to keep her decent but not enough to leave much to the imagination. David wondered how it would look when it was wet. 

'What do you think?' she asked. She did a little pirouette, her arms above her head. The movement caused her breasts to sway and for a moment he thought they would pop free. He looked at her face with an effort.

'Sensational. Does that material shrink, by any chance?'

Meg laughed. 'I guess we'll find out soon. What about the colour?' She placed a hand under each boob and hefted them forward slightly, as if presenting them for his inspection. 

'Stunning.' David recalled an art teacher once telling him what each colour represented. Red was for danger, determination and love and he wondered if Meg knew it or whether she just liked the shade. 'It's amazing against your tan,' he said. It was too. She had a naturally olive skin and the juxtaposition of red and golden brown looked sensational. 

Meg laughed. 'I thought you'd like it. I bought it just for you. Now...are you ready?' 

They walked down to the beach and swam out into the surf, laughing with pleasure at the caress of the water on their bodies. A spit of rocks jutted out into the bay a little further to the north and they saw how it influenced the wave pattern. 'Over there,' he said. 'We'll pick up the waves earlier and they'll take you though to the beach.'

The water was deeper here and soon Meg was swimming beside him, unable to touch the bottom. 'It's not fair,' she complained. 'You're taller than me and you can go out further.' She held onto his shoulder. 'Tow me out, Soldier, and we can catch the waves together.'

'Right.' He waded out until he could just stand, enjoying the slippery feel of her skin against his, and they caught the first wave together. It carried them across the little bay and dumped them on the beach close to one another, and Meg wallowed in the white frothy spume and laughed up at him, her eyes shining with happiness and excitement. 'Again,' she demanded, and she ran and jumped on his back. He grasped her legs and plunged into the surf, conscious of the warmth of her groin pressing against him and the reaction it was causing, swimming out with her to do it all over again until they were exhausted. 

She took his hand and they walked back to the cottage and David saw the glances that couples on the beach gave them: looks of envy from the guys and smiles from older couples who took them to be young and in love. 

'How about seafood tonight?' he asked her. 'There's a little Bistro in the next town around the Bay.'

Their table was on a wooden deck overlooking a little creek fringed by golden sand and they talked and ate prawns and lobster and buttered scallops with their fingers, washed down with ice cold beer. Meg wore a simple white dress that showed off her skin and David couldn't help but steal glances when he thought she wasn't looking, not realizing that she was doing the same to him. He'd long ago accepted his sister was the best looking girl he knew but tonight she was glowing, and as the evening progressed he realised that feelings for her were changing, and it worried him. She's my little sister. I can't think of her that way. 

She excused herself and when she came back David watched her threading her way through the tables. It wasn't just her looks, he thought: it's the way she carries herself. It's her smile and the amazing ability she had to make him feel special. He thought that she had suddenly blossomed right in front of his eyes. 

She reached the table and sank into her chair opposite him, and he could not take his eyes off her. 

'What?' she asked. 

'I was thinking you looked happy. I haven't seen you like this in a while.'

Meg reached across the table and grasped his hand. 'I am happy,' she said. 'I feel...relaxed. It's difficult to do that at home, what with work and -- well, you know.' She squeezed his fingers. 'And I'm happy you're here with me, Soldier. We don't seem to have connected over the last year or two, and I've missed it.'

He nodded, knowing what she meant. 'I guess life just gets in the way.'

'Then we must make sure it doesn't.'

'Yeah.' They lapsed into silence, their fingers still entwined, and David looked out over the crescent of sand to the little village beyond. There were bright lights there and the sound of laughter and music from a waterside bar. 

'Do you want a drink down there?' he asked.

She glanced at where he was looking. The music sounded good but she didn't want to break the mood. 'Maybe tomorrow. Let's go back to the cottage and have a few drinks on the verandah.'

He mixed a jug of Margarita and they sat close to one another and drank, their comfy chairs pulled together. Meg was curled up with her legs under her, and the liquor and the darkness broke down barriers and they began to talk more freely. 

'So what's the story with Chris Miller?' he asked. Meg had mentioned that she was thinking of going out with him, which worried David. 

'Oh, him! He wants my body, and he doesn't care where or how,' she giggled. 'He told me last week that anything nestling between my perfect little cheeks is a friend of his and he wants to get to know it a whole lot better.'

'Maybe he just wants a kiss.'

'I don't think he meant those cheeks, Soldier.' 

'Ah, right.' He'd known that of course, but somehow hadn't thought his kid sister would contemplate anything involving anal. 'Well, I have to agree with him.'

'Really? You want a piece of my ass as well?'

'Any sane guy would,' David said. He had dreamed of it often enough but the conversation was making him feel unaccountably uncomfortable. He thought that Chris Miller was probably the biggest scumbag he'd ever met, and the thought of his cock inside Meg was enough to turn his stomach. 'But you shouldn't give it to Chris Miller,' he continued, 'in fact I don't think you should give him anything.'

'Why not? Look, I know he's a -' she broke off, searching for a word. 'What's the male equivalent of a slut?'

'Beats me. A stud, maybe. That tells you something of the male psyche.'

'A stud. Well, maybe he is, and maybe that's all I'm looking for, Soldier. At least I'd know where I stand with him.'

David shook his head. 'You really don't want to pick Chris Miller. He's -- well, he's just a sleazebag.'

'Huh! You're a fine one to talk! Slutty Susan isn't exactly a paragon of virtue, and if one of those tarts in the restaurant the other night had offered you a piece of her tight little tush I'm damn sure you wouldn't have knocked her back either.'

'I keep telling you I'm not an item with Susan,' David said. 'She's just -- well, just a fill-in.'

'Suppose it was me you were screwing, Soldier...would you think I was just a fill-in too, until some better piece came along?' 

'That's not a fair question. You're my sister, so we couldn't -'

'I'm not asking whether we should or not,' Meg said deviously. 'I'm asking you to imagine you are in my pants and whether you'd screw around if you were.'

Meg's words evoked a sudden image of his sister crouching on the same chair she was sitting on now, with her little white dress rucked up over her waist and her panties twisted around one ankle. She was looking back over her shoulder as he ploughed into her, and the expression on her face was one of carnal lust. He felt his cock harden rapidly at the thought.

'Well?' Meg demanded.

'I could never cheat on you,' he answered softly. In his mind he could see his shaft poised at the entrance to her body, and hear her soft moan as he pressed it slowly into her for the first time. His longing was palpable. 'I don't know how anyone could.'

'And would you still screw Susan if you had me?'

'Hell, no.' 

'And what about those other little skanks in the restaurant?'

He shook his head. 'Never.'

Well, there you are then.' Meg said.

David regarded his sister. She seldom said or did anything without purpose and generally she made herself crystal clear, but this conversation was to the far right of being weird. 'What the hell does that mean?' he demanded. 

'What?'

'What does 'well there you are then' mean?'

She spread her hands in an expression of innocence. 'It means that there's at least one guy in the world who could have a little integrity.' Her eyes flicked to his lap. 'What did you think it meant?' she asked, and he could her laughter in her words.

'Hell, I don't know,' he said. He rested his eyes on her face for a moment, his expression troubled. 'So have you -'

'Fucked Chris yet?' she laughed, a short sharp sound devoid of humour. 'No, I haven't...not with him, not with anyone. Here I am, eighteen years two months and twenty-one days old and I'm untouched. Sad, isn't it? The oldest virgin on the East Coast.' She paused, and David could she wasn't done talking about it. 'You know, I've always figured my cherry was worth hanging onto for the right guy, but maybe that's just dumb thinking. At this rate I'll still have it at fifty and that would be really sad. That's why I'm thinking of Chris.' She leaned forward and filled her glass from the pitcher. 'You know, Dad's got a lot to answer for.'

'You can't blame him for still being a virgin!'

Meg shook her head. 'He was faithless, Soldier. He used Mum and that other poor woman and when he was caught he wasn't even sorry.' 

'Not all guys are like Dad.'

'Yeah, right! Just about every guy I've met thinks constantly of pussy, which in my book puts them in the slut league. Going with any one of them is setting myself up for failure.'

David shook his head. There was a huge difference between a young guy out for a bit of skirt and someone who had deliberately married two women at the same time, but clearly Meg couldn't see that. He reached over and squeezed her arm. 'There are guys around you can trust, Meg,' he said, 'and you'll find one, I promise.' 

She stared into the candle for a few moments without responding. 'I don't think there are, David, she said at last. 'Not that I've ever seen, anyway.' Her eyes slid to his. 'Apart from you that is, and you've got slutty Susan.'

David shook his head. 'I told you, she's just a fill-in. I don't -'

'I know, you told me,' she interrupted. 'So who would you have...I mean, if you could pick your ideal woman, who would it be?'

David leaned back in his chair. 'Christ, I don't know.'

'You must have thought about it, Soldier...you know, when you're doing it. If Susan's not the one then you must think about who you'd really like to be with.'

'I guess. We all fantasise about that.'

'So who would it be?'

'I don't know, Meg.'

'Oh, come on! You never imagine you're with someone else? Someone you've seen in the street or even an imaginary girl?' 

David shrugged. 'I guess.' 

'So what does she look like?'

Like you David thought, but he couldn't tell her that. He shrugged. 'Just a chick...someone hot.'

'Right.' She lapsed into silence and David waited, uncomfortable with the direction their conversation had taken. He knew what the next question would be and he waited for her pluck up the courage to ask. 'So what does this hot chick look like?' she said, at length.

'Short -- about five six. Grey eyes. Blonde hair, down to her bum. Smallish tits, but not too small. Amazing, thick nipples. Oval face and nice eyes. Soft pink lips... a figure like Jennifer Hawkins, and a really, really, neat little tush.'

Meg was silent. She could feel the alcohol swimming in her head but she wasn't too far gone to recognise that the description fitted her. 'And is it always the same girl?' she asked. Her heart was suddenly beating quicker.

'Pretty much.' David laughed, a short dismissive sound. 'Shows how much imagination I've got, doesn't it?' He was silent for a moment, very much aware of her proximity and the electricity that was building between them. 

'And do you know her, or is she imaginary?'

David was silent for a few moments. This was dangerous ground, he knew. 'She's like someone I know,' he said carefully. 

'Well, if you ever get the chance to have her, don't waste it,' Meg offered.

'I won't,' he said. 'If I ever find her she'll be the one.' For a moment he was tempted to tell her that she was the fantasy girl and always had been, and that his heart was beating so fast in his chest that it might explode; but he knew he couldn't. Meg was flirting with him simply because she could, and because she trusted him not to take it too seriously. He imagined the look in her eyes if he did try it on... the expression of disappointment and disgust, the realisation that he was nothing more than his father's son - a user of women and destroyer of trust. Better to keep a barrier between them and stay friends, than to venture too far into intimacy and risk destroying it all forever. 

The thought sobered him and he glanced at his watch. 'Wow...past midnight. It's been a long day, Sis...a great day. Thanks.' He drained his drink and stood up. 'I might hit the sack.'

Meg uncurled herself from the chair and stood in front of him. 'It has been a fabulous day, David, thank you,' she said. On impulse she flung her arms around his neck and pulled him down towards her face. He could feel her hair tickling his chin and her nose against his neck, and the little butterfly kisses she was giving him working up towards his ear. 'That's for today,' she breathed, 'and this is to take your mind off your imaginary chick.' She stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his. They were incredibly soft and tasted of salt and tequila, and they lingered on his for a few moments before she broke free, and he heard her throaty chuckle as she ran to her room.

 *

David was still asleep when she bounced into his room. 'Wake up, sleepy!' she called. 'Half the day is gone and I want you.' She seized a pillow and hit him with it, her breasts jiggling with the inertia.

'Ah...shit, Meg! I was asleep! What the fuck are you doing?'

'I need someone to go swimming with. Get up!' She raised the pillow again and waved it back and forth in a threatening gesture. 

'Jesus!' David opened his eyes with difficulty and was immediately rewarded by a view of his sister's swaying breasts, barely contained by the triangles of the little red bikini. 'Jesus!' he said again, with more feeling. 

Meg saw where his eyes were looking. 'Stop looking at my tits and get up, you pervert.'

David sniggered, his eyes still on her chest. 'Make me.'

'Right!' She jumped on the bed and straddled him, her fingers digging into the soft skin under his ears. 'Get up! Get up!'

'Ow, shit! Fuck! What have I done to deserve you?' David reached up and grasped her wrists and pulled them away from his face, imprisoning her. 'Ha! Now what are you going to do?'

Meg shrieked and began to bounce up and down on his chest. 'I'll squash you into submission.'

David laughed with her. 'How does that work, midget?' he asked. He began to punctuate his words with theatrical grunts as his sister's weight landed on his chest. 'You -- ugh - might just be able to - ugh -- squash a flea, shrimp, if you really -- ugh - try hard.' He tried to hold her still, but she continued to jiggle and he laughed again at the glorious sight of her breasts bobbing up and down. 'Don't -- ugh -- drop one of those on me or I really will be -- ugh - crushed.' 

'You're a beast!' Meg squealed. 'Let me go!'

'Only if you stop.'

'Never! If you get up now I'll let you live.'

David decided he didn't want her to stop. She really wasn't heavy and he was enjoying the sight. The bikini top was in danger of structural failure and aside from that, her crotch was bobbing up and down only a few inches from his face. He could see the fabric stretched over her mound and a few wisps of golden hair peeping from under one edge. He saw that the skin on the inside of her upper thighs was of a pale cream colour, much lighter than the rest of her skin, and he imagined how soft it would feel on his lips. His cock hardened rapidly under the sheet. 

'Is that your best, Symonds?' he goaded her. 'Is that all you've got?'

She flexed her thigh muscles and began to bounce higher, struggling to release her hands. 'You ain't seen nothing yet!' she grunted, 'take that!' and with exquisite timing she pushed back and landed on his groin. 

David released her hands with an explosive grunt of pain. 'Fuck!' he said. 'Shit, shit, that hurt! Get off!' He pushed her aside and cupped his organ with both hands. 'Holy crap, Meg...you've squashed the old guy.' 

'He must be flea-sized then.' She studied his face. 'So do you give up?'

'I'm a cripple,' he wheezed. 'My dick feels like a Spoonbill's beak.'

Meg laughed at the image. 'I guess that's a win for me then.'

'I'll never be able to do it again,' he moaned.

'Sure you will. You'll make some lady Spoonbill very happy.' She laughed at her wit and stood next to the bed looking down at him. 'So do you want anything to eat before we go?'

'Get out of my sight, woman! I need to check out what you've done.'

Meg snickered. 'Will this just be a visual inspection or are you going for a full-power trail?' she asked. 'Perhaps I can bring you a rubber glove and a bucket...well, a thimble, anyway.'

'Very funny! I might never be able to perform again.'

Meg was unrepentant. 'Ah -- well, Susan will be sad...well, until she finds some other poor sap, anyway. Would you like me to check it out?'

'Get out!'

She flounced through the door and David lay for a few moments, recalling the sight of his kid sister's little mound bouncing up and down a few inches from his mouth. She was having fun and that was great to see, but it was clear she had no idea what effect she was having on him.

He grasped his cock and stroked it quickly, imagining how she would have tasted if he'd pulled the bikini bottom aside and buried his face there, imagining how wet she would be. The image was sufficient to bring him to orgasm quickly and he spurted onto the sheets in five or six long jets, his fingers gripping the knob firmly and his pleasure peaking briefly before spiraling downwards. 

The sexual release brought back a sense of realism and he swung his legs out of bed and pulled on his swimming costume with a sigh, wondering how he would get through the rest of their holiday together without doing anything silly to spoil her happiness. 

*

Meg was on the verandah, rubbing suntan oil on her body and she looked up brightly. 'Ah, there you are, Soldier! Could you rub some oil onto my back?' she held out the bottle. 

'Sure. Turn around.'

He squirted a line of oil across her back and rubbed it over the smooth golden skin. 'And my neck,' she directed. His fingers slipped easily over her flesh, circling her slim neck, grasping it lightly before moving downwards again. She'd tucked her tresses under a baseball cap and he could see the fine whorls of gold hair on her neck glistening with the oil.