Slow Dancing

I sneak a look at myself in the mirror, and am gratified to see that the gown still looks as good on me as it did when I found it. I raise my arms, satisfying myself that no part of my bra will be visible in the relatively modest neck and shoulder lines, then turn to eye my profile. My dancing and gymming have paid off and the dress hugs me like a bodysuit; I'm very happy with the result. I pull on my evening gloves, and shoot myself a smouldering look in the mirror.

"David?" I call out.

I hear him walking towards my room, and for some reason butterflies start up in my stomach again.

He knocks. I laugh, nervously. "I know it's you, and I'm decent. Come in."

He opens the door, then stops.

"Wow." he says, after a while.

"You like?" I ask, unreasonably happy at his reaction.

"Be still my beating heart," he says, shaking his head.

"That good, huh?" I say.

"Em," he says. "I'm your brother. There are some things brothers are not supposed to say to sisters."

I grin. "Nobody's here but me. Tell me the truth. Do I look good?"

"Emily, you could stop traffic in that dress. You're delicious as you are, and in that..."

He stops, then blushes, and I feel myself flushing too.

"Um..." he says, "I'll be outside." He makes a speedy escape, and I find myself worried that I've pushed him too far.

I undress as quickly as I can, hanging the dress carefully back on its hangers and then dragging my tee-shirt and tracksuit pants back on. I find him on the balcony, drinking his wine quietly as he stares up at the night sky.

"Davey?" I ask, quietly.

"Hi," he smiles.

I worm my way in under his arm.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

He laughs, quietly. "Don't mind me, Em. I'm just a jealous brother. You're going to be mobbed tomorrow and I'm going to have to flirt with old ladies."

I punch him gently in the chest and he snorts back some more laughter. I lean my head against him, listening to the gentle thumping of his heart.

"I'd never desert you," I whisper.

"What was that, Em?"

"Nothing. I've missed you is all." I wriggle out from under his arm, and wrap my arms around him, squeezing him as hard as I can. "Don't be too late, Davey. It's a bit of a drive to the reception and we need to get there with time to spare."

"I'm coming to bed now, Em. Just finishing my wine."

I squeeze him once more, then turn and head for bed. I turn out the lights in my room, strip down to my panties, and climb under the blankets, where I toss and turn for a while, remembering the look on his face when he first saw me in the gown. I hear him coming in, closing the sliding door to the balcony, and putting his wineglass into the sink.

He stops and pokes his head into my room, and I pretend to be asleep. He pads quietly into the room, and through slitted eyes I see him stoop forwards towards me. He plants a gentle stubbly kiss on my cheek, and whispers a quiet "I've missed you too." before tip-toeing out and gently closing my door on me and the sudden ache he's left me with.

I long ago made peace with the fact that I'm in love with him, and that I can never have him. But having him this close just makes it harder to bear.

---

I wake up thirsty in the early hours of the morning. My phone says its 3am, and I curse under my breath at whatever woke me up. I lie there for a few minutes, wishing I could fall asleep again, but I know it's futile and I need to get up and get some water. I grumble, and kick the blankets aside, then get up.

Briefly I consider dragging a top on, but given the hour it's hardly necessary, so I slouch quietly out to the kitchen. I grab a glass and pour myself some water, and sip it while staring out the balcony window.

My complex borders onto a large green belt area, so I'm lucky enough to have a bit of a view. I lean against the glass, enjoying the sensation of goose bumps spreading over my shoulders at the cold. I can see what look like deer wandering over the grass in front of the distant tree line; the silly things love to menace the shrubs along the complex's boundary wall, and I've always enjoyed watching them. Occasionally one sees rabbit and foxes as well.

I count my lucky stars that my parents pay for me to live where I do...

"Emily?"

I jump, startled, and spin. David's standing sleepily at the door to the lounge. His eyes widen and I remember that I'm topless. I squawk, and grab the curtain, wrapping it around myself.

"David!" I'm flustered. I honestly didn't hear him.

"Um... everything ok?"

"Yep. Fine. Perfect." I pull the curtains tighter around me.

"Sorry, I head noise and came to investigate..."

"Just me. I needed water. Um... Davey... you've got me at a disadvantage here."

"Oh... oh, right. Sorry Em, still asleep here. You need a top?"

"Please. There's one on the floor in my bedroom. Please be a sweetheart and grab it for me."

He ducks out, and quickly returns with the top, passing it gently to me before turning his back so I can pull it on.

"That'll teach me," I mutter, once I'm decent.

"Sorry, Em, I didn't know it was you."

"My own fault, Davey." I touch him gently, and he turns around. "I didn't know you were awake and thought I'd be ok running around au naturel."

He grins wryly. "I'll make some noise next time."

"Why were you awake at this hour?" I ask, concerned.

"Unsure. Just suddenly woke up; it happens sometimes." He stretches his arms up behind his head. "Well. I'd be lying if I said I was sleepy now."

"David!" I gasp, then laugh helplessly. "You perve, I'm your sister."

He winks at me. "Where do you keep your coffee, Em? Above the sink, right?"

"Yep. Make me a tea while you're at it to make up for your ungentlemanly behaviour and maybe I'll forgive you." I grin.

He chuckles quietly, and puts the kettle on, then organises two cups. He brings me my tea when it's done, and then slumps back onto the couch. I take up position next to him.

I feel strangely daring. "So, did you enjoy the view?" I ask, mouth curled up in amusement.

"Well, you know, the lighting was poor and the venue was not great, but yes, the act itself was rather nice."

"Rather. Nice." I say, flatly.

"Critically acclaimed?" he offers.

"I was shooting for a BAFTA award" I sigh. He laughs.

"Em, I'm your brother. But I'm also a guy. Take it from me, the twins are lovely."

I smile to myself, pleased, and lean over against him. He puts an arm around me and squeezes me against him, and for a while I lose myself in the feeling of his body against me. A hot ache takes root in my belly and I suddenly realise I'm desperately horny.

I hope to heaven that my nipples are not erect, given the thin boundary of fabric that's currently the only thing that's preserving my modesty. I cough, and shift - David shoots me a glance, then finishes his coffee.

"Bed?" he suggests.

I sigh, and nod. "Long day today, I guess we should."

On a whim I follow him into the spare room, and sit on the side of his bed as he climbs back under the covers. Then, quickly, I lift the sheets and sneak in with him.

"Oh, hello," he says, with amusement. "Fancy finding you here."

I snuggle up against him as if I were twelve again, and grin at him. "There's space for two and it's been years since I snuggled with you. Move over."

He obligingly makes room for me, and I bask happily in the heat he gives off; David's thermostat's always run hot, I swear he'd wear a vest and jogging shorts to Greenland. Me on the other hand? I love the cold, but I suffer from it.

I roll onto my side, away from him, and pillow my head on his outstretched arm. He rubs my back gently for a short while, then whispers a quiet "Night, Em".

"Night, Davey," I whisper back. Soon I can hear him softly snoring.

What I do next will likely scandalize me in the cold light of day, but I feel warm and safe, next to the man I love, and so it's natural for me to slip a hand down under my panties to try to deal with some of my excess frustration.

Quietly, gently, I crook my fingertip down between my lips, amused to discover that I'm already wet. Achingly slowly I start to toy with my clit. The angle is wrong, so I shift my hips slightly and move one leg to spread myself. Then, gently, slowly, I start to tease at first one and, soon, two fingers over and around myself.

The breath hisses quietly though my teeth, and an ache builds deep inside me. Being constrained like this is hot, damned hot, and I fight the moans back down, but the shudders I can't control. I feel myself building, and then, suddenly as always, it takes me. I shake, and a small whimper escapes me.

I lie still, letting my heart rate slow. Behind me, David's breathing is unchanged, and I smile a small, satisfied smile to myself as I snuggle back against him.

---

Sunlight wakes me, and I sleepily shift. I can feel David pressed against my back, spooning me. I can feel something else too, and my breath catches slightly as I realise that his hard penis is pressed into the cleft of my buttocks. I try not to move, savouring the moment for as long as I can. But then reality sinks in and I realise that he'll probably be mortified if he wakes up like this.

And so I scoot gently away from him, slipping quietly out of the bed. I stand, looking down at him. The faint lines on his face which appeared in the last several years are almost invisible; he looks at peace. I sneak a look at his phone; we still have an hour's grace before we need to get up, so I leave him to sleep, and take advantage of the time to have a shower.

I can't get the feeling of his body against me out of my head, try as I want to. My long, one-sided love-affair with him is just that, one sided, and all I'm doing is torturing myself. But I could feel him... hard... ready... I wonder, pausing idly, what he was dreaming of.

Or maybe, I snort, it was just the feel of a warm body against him that caused his body to respond. I sigh, sadly, and stretch, letting the hot water sluice over my neck and shoulders for a while.

Then I take care of some personal pruning, trimming my straggly pubic hair down to a more manageable triangular area. Suddenly, on a whim, I lather myself up and proceed to shave myself bare. I splash myself clean, then turn off the water. I grab my towel and pat myself till I'm no longer dripping.

Then I take stock, looking at myself in front of the large mirror. I feel strangely naked now that I've shaved. Naked... and liberated, like I've shed a layer of skin. It's difficult to describe, really. I eye myself, lips pursed. At twenty three, I still look young enough to be asked for identification whenever I buy wine at the markets.

I gently rub my fingertips over my breasts, watching the goose bumps spread over them and my shoulders. I enjoy being slender, and my B-cups complement my body and my small, firm flanks. I know I'm good looking from the reactions I get from guys, but at least I know I don't use that knowledge for evil.

My eyes slip downwards over my firm, toned stomach, to my newly-bare mons. I'm slightly amused by how strange it looks, being able to see the junction of my lips so clearly. I start to understand why men (apparently) like it so much.

I wonder idly whether David likes shaven girls. Then I shake my head, angrily, and start to towel my hair dry. It's a pointless fantasy, and dalliance in it is a waste of my time and emotional energy. I wrap the towel around myself, and head for the kitchen, where I try to quietly start getting things ready for breakfast.

I guess I'm noisier than I realise, though, because I hear shuffling footsteps as David heads for the shower. Before long I hear the water running and the shower door closing. I daydream briefly about sneaking a peek, but that falls firmly under the category heading 'Bad Idea', so I don't act on the impulse.

Instead, I make myself a cup of tea and try to behave like the decorous younger sister I should be.

He emerges, eventually, bare-chested, with a towel wrapped around him. I try not to oggle him too obviously, but it's clear he's been exercising more regularly than he let on. It's difficult not to be impressed, though; he is very well built these days, and even has the first signs of a six-pack.

He gives me a sleepy smile.

"Hope you don't mind me in a towel," he says.

I snort, and wave a hand vaguely at myself and my own towel. "What's good for the goose is good for the gander" I say.

He climbs up onto one of the bar stools, and leans forward over the counter. "Breakfast?"

"Almost ready," I say, "though I hope you're ok with fruit and muesli since I guess we're going to be eating an enormous amount tonight."

"Sounds good to me," he says. "Did you sleep ok?"

"Like a baby", I respond. "You?"

"Mostly, yep."

"Only mostly?" I ask, curious.

"Yep. You woke me up at some point, I think you were dreaming."

"Oh." I roll this over in my mind. "I don't remember."

"It's fine, I rubbed your back a bit and you quietened down." He smiles.

"My hero." I wink at him, and he snorts.

We eat quietly, and I clean up afterwards while David finishes his coffee.

"Em?" he says, quietly.

"Yeah?"

"What happened with Jason?"

I slowly put the dish I'm washing down, and turn around to face him.

"What do you mean?"

"You two seemed to be doing really well together. Then, suddenly, catastrophe."

I shrug. "He decided it was more important to stick his cock into some nineteen year old than it was to pick me up from class."

He leans back. "Ah."

"Yeah. Same story, different protagonist."

He shakes his head, sadly. "He seemed like a nice guy."

I sigh. "He was. I thought... no, never mind."

"You thought what, Em?"

I thought I'd finally found someone who'd make me forget you, is what I want to tell him. But of course I can't say this, so I change it slightly.

"I thought I'd just finally found someone who could make me happy is all. And he did. Mostly. Anyway", I say, grimly, "It's all water under the bridge now."

He stands up and walks around the counter, reaching out to pull me into a hug. I can't help myself, I cry a bit, but he holds me tightly until the shaking stops, then gives me a hard squeeze and a kiss on the forehead. "You'll find someone, Em. Someone who treats you the way you deserve."

I shake my head and laugh, bitterly. "Maybe someday." Regretfully, I let go of him, and turn away so I can rub my eyes. My towel has slipped slightly so I adjust it. Then I sigh.

"I guess it's time to start getting ready." he says.

I turn back and squint up at him, then pat him on the cheek. "Yeah. You need a shave, by the way."

"Yes, mum," he mutters, and saunters off.

I lean back against the countertop, suddenly sad. Age makes my hopeless love for him worse. I shake my head, and run my fingers through my damp hair, then force a smile onto my face. At least he's my brother. At least I have that much of him.

---

I sit in front of my dressing table, blow-drying my hair so it sets in the waves that I know perfectly frame my face. Then I stand and unwrap the towel. My eyes are slightly red, but I know that will clear with time, so I'm not concerned. I pick up the lacy black panties and strapless bra, and put them both on.

Then the stockings with the woven in ivy pattern that I found at the same vintage shop my gown was at join them. I like the effect; the way the leaves scroll up my calves and thighs. Briefly, I pause. Then it's the gown, and the small silver fleur-de-lis earrings. I appraise myself, pleased. The blue and silver accentuate the blue of my eyes, and all I need is some base and a little bit of eyeliner and I'm good to go.

David knocks on my door. "Mind if I come in, Em?" he asks.

"Of course not."

He steps through, and pauses. "Yep. Definitely going to be flirting with the grannies tonight."

I smile over my shoulder at him, admiring the smart black trousers and white dress shirt he's wearing. Then I notice the small velvet bag he's carrying. "What's that?"

"An early birthday present for my favourite sister."

"I'm your only sister," I inform him, seriously.

"Yep, and my favourite." he replies.

I laugh at him. "Idiot."

He smiles, and hands the bag to me. Curious, I undo the drawstrings, then upend it into my hand. My heart stops.

"David." I breathe.

The pendant necklace is silver, cupping a small blue pear-cut stone in a simple setting ringed with tiny pearls. It is understated and yet stunning; exactly the sort of item I'd wear. It's perfect for an event like the one we're attending.

"Happy early birthday, Emily."

I stand, and abandon all caution as I swing my arms up and around his neck, holding him close against me. "David, you can't spoil me like this."

"Yes, I can, and I will." he says, holding me against him. "Now put it on; I had a suspicion it would be a match for you but the proof is in the viewing."

"Help me," I beg, and I turn away, lifting my hair free of my neck. David hangs the pendant around my neck and clasps it, then steps back. I admire it in the mirror, then turn to look up at him.

"It's beautiful."

"Topaz and fresh water pearls. Classy and understated, just like you. I hope you like it."

"Like it? David, it's lovely." Unthinkingly I stand on tiptoes and kiss him. He makes a surprised noise, and I belatedly realise that I've been unwise, but I don't care. He gently disengages himself and looks down at me, then hugs me, saying nothing.

"I need to finish getting ready," he says, after a small while.

"I know. Me too. David... thank you. This is the nicest gift anyone has ever bought for me."

He smiles at me, and I know I'm forgiven my lapse.

---

David places our jackets and other paraphernalia on the back seat of the Jaguar, and dumps our small overnight bags into the boot. I climb carefully into the passenger seat, he eases in behind the wheel, and we're off. I can't help but grin at the sound of the engine and the rush of the wind. "Can't we drop the roof?" I beg.

"When we're out of town" he promises. We wind our way out through the lanes, and pull over into a farm road entrance where, true to his word, he drops the lid. It's a glorious Spring day, and I'm delighted to be out with him. I wrap a scarf around my hair to keep it under control, and we set off again, making good time across the Surrey countryside. We head southwest, deeper into the old woodlands, and I feel my cares blowing away; David is smiling next to me and I feel like I don't have a worry in the world.

Eventually we turn into the vast private grounds of the venue, and I look around with interest. It's clearly well-maintained; it even has a large formal garden, and I can see couples strolling around with parasols and morning coats. "I hope you brought a top hat," I tease David, and he laughs, shaking his head.

We park, and David climbs out, then walks around the Jaguar in order to open my door and help me out - sometimes I think he was born into the wrong age. I smile at him as he steadies me. Then he reaches over the sill and grabs our jackets, holding mine for me so that I can pull it on. He unfolds a small vanity mirror and holds it for me while I straighten my hair and pin the hairpiece to it.

Finally, I spend a pleasurable few minutes helping him put on the white silk bow-tie he's brought with. I stand back to admire him. He really is a very, very attractive man.

"Shall we?" he asks, as he slips on his evening jacket, and I smile a yes. He holds out his arm, and I loop mine through it.

We enter the reception area to mingle with all the other guests, and I introduce David to those I know; mainly friends from University. I see one or two confused looks, and I'm sure various explanations are given as to why I'm here with my brother as opposed to a date, but I don't care; as far as I'm concerned I got the better deal. David is polite and friendly, and soon strikes up a conversation with a couple of men; I loiter, watching him proprietarily and listening with half an ear to the strains of a string quartet playing Vivaldi. Jenny, an acquaintance, flits by and pauses to make small talk, and time passes. White wine is served in small glasses and, soon, a bell is rung and the best man asks us to make our way to the manor's chapel for the ceremony.