I let go of his hand, stepped back, then climbed up onto the counter to watch him as he finished the cuts of steak off with balsamic glaze.

"You have the knack for it. I've never been able to cook fillet."

"Pan's got to be hot, and you need to have a good feel for the change in colour," he said, as he sprinkled Parmesan over mine. "Inside or out?" he added.

"Outside, of course. Why be indoors when the day is so lovely?"

"True. Here. I'll grab the tray; you bring some wine."


I gathered up two glasses and a bottle of Pinot Noir and followed him to our outdoor table. Olly set a place for me, dished up the salad and then took up position opposite me.

"Cheers, Shannon."

"Happy Sunday, Olly."

"To many more," he said, clinking his glass to mine.


I slipped off my top and tossed it aside, then knifed into the water. I rolled, arched up to the surface, and then floated, eyes closed, enjoying the sun on my face.

After a moment or two I felt ripples, and opened my eyes; Olly had joined me in the water. I smiled over at him. "Took you long enough."

"I'm not an otter like you."

"Mm. Pity. Water's my element. Air's yours."

"This is the interface, then."

He turned onto his back and tried to float, but failed. I laughed at him. "Still can't do it?"

"I have dense bones," he grumbled.

"You don't have enough body fat."

"If one needed body fat in order to float, Shan, you'd sink like a stone."

"Girls have more than boys; fact."

"Maybe, but you're pretty light on spare weight."

"Is that your way of saying I look good or of accusing me of being anorexic?"

"The former. With maybe a touch of the latter."

"Thanks for the almost-complement then."

"You're welcome," he grinned. "Seriously, though, you must get a lot of attention these days."

"The wrong sort," I murmured. "I'm tempted to buy one of those Victorian bathing costumes for next time I go to the beach."

"It won't help," he said. "You'd need to wear a tent."

"I could arrange that."

He dipped under the water, and I felt him skim under me, barely touching. I listened to the ripples he made, the faint thud as he kicked off the far wall, and felt the turbulence of his return passage under me.

"Remember how we used to swim lengths?" I asked, once he'd surfaced.

"You always won."

"It was nice to have something I was good at."

"You're good at a lot of things, Shan. You just don't believe much in yourself."

"You always were my best cheerleader."

"Someone has to do the job."


I reached for a towel and wrapped it around myself; a South-wester wind was building, blowing cloud over the top of the mountain, and the temperature had dropped several degrees. I suppressed a shiver. "Sorry, Olly, it's getting too cold now."

"Yeah, I'll get out now too," he muttered. "Gonna need a long-sleeved top soon at this rate."

"Going to shower," I called back to him over my shoulder. I walked indoors and climbed the stairs, grabbed a fresh towel from the linen cupboard, and then ducked into the bathroom. I turned on the tap, set the temperature just short of scalding, and closed the bathroom door.

I waited for the water to heat up, then stripped out of my bikini top and the soaked pants and stepped into the cubicle. Cautious, I leaned against the wall, not wanting a repeat of the previous evening.

After a short while I decided I would be OK. I reached up, letting the hot water sluice over my neck and shoulders, before I ran my fingers through my hair to work the pool's salt out of it. I reached for Olly's body wash, and gave myself a quick once-over to clean my skin.

I didn't want to overheat, so I didn't spend long under the water; instead, after a brief soak I killed it and wrapped my fluffy blue towel around my midriff.

"Shower's yours," I called to Olly as I opened the bathroom door.

"Thanks, Shan," he replied from his room. I gave him a smile and a wave as I walked past his doorway; he was watching the clouds roll down the mountainside from his bedroom window.

I towelled myself dry, then pulled on a pair of thin blue panties, some grey woollen tights and a white cotton thermal vest. I walked back down the passage, then stopped at the bathroom door. Olly had left it slightly ajar. Something drove me to step up to it, and I leaned against the door frame and stared through the slight gap.

Olly was in the shower, water sluicing down over his body. I had a great view of his tanned back, legs and bum as he soaped himself and washed his body. I stood a moment, screened by the door, and watched him as he cleaned himself.

Then my heart hammered in my chest and I felt strangely weak as he turned to face me and I saw him for the first time.

I stepped guiltily back from the gap, scared he'd see me.

I'd seen him in various stages of undress before but... for some reason this felt different. He looked... good. Muscular and lean. I'd always known, peripherally, that my brother had a great body, but seeing him nude in the shower took things to another level.

I snuck back to the door, and watched, giddy as a sixteen year old, as Olly reached down to clean himself. I took a slow breath as I watched him cup his balls and stream shower water over himself. Then, almost idly, he took his penis in his hand and slowly stroked himself, leaning back against the wall of the shower cubicle as his cock swelled in his hand.

I felt myself blushing, and after a moment more of voyeurism I slunk off. "What the fuck, Shannon," I whispered to myself. But there was an ache deep inside me now, a dark heat, and I couldn't banish the naked image of him from my mind. I was desperately aroused.

I calmed the lighheadedness with a glass of wine, and then closed the sliding door to the outside as the wind built. I sat in the leather armchair by the door, tucking my legs up under me again as I watched the clouds roll in.

And as I sat I thought about Olly. About his fair-haired, muscular thighs. About his strong, wiry forearms. His calloused hands. The small scar on his chin from the hockey ball. His blue eyes. His smile. The dimple in the small of his back. The small neat and obviously trimmed patch of pubic hair around his ample cock. The slight bend in his shaft when he was erect. The broad head of his cock, and the way he'd tensed his six-pack as he played with himself.

I was aching, soaking. I slipped a finger down under my leggings and moaned at the heat between my lips. I flushed, embarrassed, disgusted with myself over the cause of my arousal, and I clambered to my feet. It was one thing to fuck with him; this was something totally different, and I needed to bolt a lid down on it.

So I finished my glass of wine and tried to put my need out of my mind. I dug around under our fireplace for kindling; there was only a small amount of wood so I went to grab some logs from Dad's pile in the garage. I carried a couple of arm-fulls back up to the living area, and after some struggling I managed to get a small fire going. Then I refilled my wineglass and thought very hard about the wind.

Oliver came downstairs eventually in shorts and a long, tight running top. I handed him a glass of wine and tried to ignore the shape of his chest under his top as I took up my spot in front of the fireplace once more.

"You OK?" he asked, after a moment.

"Yep, fine, all good," I bluffed.

"Uh huh. I know that pose. Something's bugging you."

"Nope, everything's peachy," I disagreed with a smile. "One hundred percent good."

"Now I know you're fibbing."

I shook my head but didn't answer immediately; Olly lowered himself to the floor next to me.

"What's up?" he asked, gently.

I sighed. "Just... thinking."


"My fucked up libido, mainly."

He was silent a moment, and I glanced over at him. "You asked, Olly."

"Yeah, I did," he agreed. "What brought this on?"

"Oh, a number of things... mostly I guess I was just mulling over our earlier conversation," I deflected. "I guess I just realised that it's been more than three times round the sun since I last had a penis in me."

He frowned. "I still find that hard to believe. You've dated guys these last few years."

"Dated yes, fucked no. Furthest I'd let them go was to suck them off or let them come on me."

"What happened to you, Shan? Did someone..."

"Nope. No trauma. Just no... drive, I guess. I never felt the spark I need to get aroused enough for it to work for me."

"Have you talked to someone about it?"

"Hi, mum, it's me, Shannon. I can't seem to let the guys I'm with put their cocks in me. Can I get some pointers, some advice?"

He laughed, startled, and after a moment I joined in.

"Holy fuck, I can imagine how that conversation would go," he giggled.

"The look of horror. Oh god," I squealed, leaning forward, laughing. "She'd die. She'd die of panic and mortification. Oh god," I took a deep breath. "Thanks, Olly. Sometimes I forget how much you make me laugh."

He reached out to squeeze my knee. "Don't mention it, Shan."

I swallowed, looked away, sipped my wine, and tried to ignore the sparks that crawled where he'd touched me.


We'd dragged blankets and pillows down onto the stone flagstones to make up a nest for ourselves in front of the fireplace. Orange light licked over and around us, and we'd started on the second bottle of red.

Outside, the wind howled.

"So tell me about the one nighter," I asked, watching him.


"Because I'm bored. Because... I'm curious. I can neither confirm nor deny that I have a bit of a voyeuristic streak in me."

"I'd never have guessed. I had you pegged at exhibitionism."


"You," he answered, levelly. I didn't try to deny it. Instead I just grinned up at him.

"Stop that," he said, laughing.

I grinned some more.

"Stop it. Stop it and I'll talk."

"Excellent," I cackled, settling back into our mound of pillows. "Spill the juicy details."

"She was a year ahead of me. Doing engineering as well. Brilliant. Pretty hot too; she played hockey for the women's second team and I guess that's how we started talking."


"Reckon she could have run rings around me. She was trying to make the first eleven. She wanted hockey colours."

"Describe her."

"Five foot ten or so. Slender waist, but a sprinter's build. Pale blue eyes, brown hair with a wave to it. You know the look some Eastern European girls have? That face shape with the delicate jaw and big eyes?"

"Uh huh."

"She had that in spades. Gorgeous. Funny. Interesting."

"So why didn't you date her?"

"Batshit, bunny-boiling crazy. I only found this out after I'd done the deed."

I laughed. "Ouch."

"Yeah. I wish I'd known that before. Seriously, I considered changing Universities. She was... uncannily good at finding me."

"So what happened?" I asked, propping myself up on an arm and watching his face.


"When you two shagged, dumbo."

"Um... Shan..."

"You said it didn't weird you out to talk about this stuff," I said, quietly. "This is me trying to be open, Olly."

He stared at me for a moment. "OK. OK. You're right. Um..." he hesitated. "OK. So. We hit it off at a social evening. I'd noticed her around obviously, and I had a drink or two in me and decided to just go over and say hello. She was friendly, and open, I bought her a drink and we talked about our courses.

We danced a bit, drank a bit more. She was a nice height for me, and she had this way of looking up at me and smiling this small smile... well, one thing led to another and before I knew it it was 2am and we were walking hand in hand back to her rooms. She snuck me in, and we weren't even through the door before she had her top off."

"Fast mover," I breathed.

"Determined too. She grabbed my hands, put them on her, told me to use her."

"Use her?"

"Her exact words. 'Use me.'"

"Wow. Kinky."

"You have no idea..."

"So spill the beans."

He took a sip of his wine, and coughed. "OK. This bit might get... detailed. She... she wanted me to bite her breasts. Not hard... just..."

"Love nibbles," I said, softly.

"I guess. I wasn't really complaining, her breasts were amazing. Perky little ones, great nipples... She smelled nice; clean. Before I knew it we were on her bed; she was on top of me, grinding her panties against me, arched forward so her breasts were close enough for me to nibble. And kiss. And suck."

I squeezed my legs together, and bit my lip hard.

"Then, she had a hand in my pants, and was touching me, stroking me."

"Nice?" I breathed, my mind conjuring up the image to taunt me.

"I hadn't been with anyone for a while, you do the math," he grinned. "Yeah. Yeah, it was nice. She pulled me out. Then, before I knew what was happening, she was rubbing me against her pussy. She'd pulled her panties aside and basically just climbed on top of me like that; still in her skirt and me still pretty much fully clothed."

"Mm. Sounds like she couldn't wait. What was it like?"

"She was incredibly tight. Very hot. Soaking wet. She was moaning before we'd been going at it for ten seconds..."

"Lucky wench," I teased him. "Must be nice to be wired like that."

"Apart from the batshit crazy bit."

"That was later. You're telling me about before."

"Um... I didn't last long. She... she gave me this look as I came, like, 'I'm not done with you'. And she wasn't. She rode me and fingered herself till she'd come, then she got off the bed and stripped. She stripped me. She sat down on my cock again, and... hot-dogged me..."

"What?" I said, in disbelief.

"Hot-dogging... it's like... it's when the girl rubs her pussy along the guys cock like it's a hot dog sausage?"

I fell backwards, laughing till I wheezed for breath.

Olly gave me a disgusted look. "Shut it, Shan. It's embarrassing enough; I don't need your mockery..."

"Why's it embarrassing?" I wheezed, chuckling. "You sound like you got a great shag out of it."

"It's embarrassing telling you about it," he complained. "You're my... you're the person whose opinion matters most to me."

"Olly," I managed, trying not to laugh any more. "Olly, I'm not judging. I just found the image... hilarious. Hilarious, and... interesting," I added, grinning. "I'll try that someday... that is... if I find someone I can let go long enough to do it to," I sighed.

"Sorry, Shan. Didn't mean to upset you."

"Ssh, it doesn't matter, we're talking about you," I interrupted. "So... she was..." I snorted, "hot-dogging you... then what?"

"Obviously I got hard again. She spun round, knelt down, and basically instructed me to fuck her doggy-style."


"I did. I lasted much longer. She didn't. I think her legs gave out in the end before I finally finished."

"Mm. Lucky slut," I breathed, conscious of the tingling of my own clit. "Lucky you, too, to find one like that."

"Pity about the baggage. She seemed OK in the morning, kissed me goodbye and snuck me out before anyone else woke up. 2 hours of sleep broke me."

"Was she really that crazy? Or just lonely?" I mused.

"Crazy, desperate, I don't know. She freaked me the fuck out and I didn't ever really speak to her again. She left the end of that year."

"Regrets?" I asked him, softly.

"I... feel guilty for not saying goodbye to her, I guess."

I leaned in, rested my head on his shoulder. "You're a sweet boy, Oliver."

"Sometimes," he sighed. "I regret how cold I was to her. But... I was younger and stupider and honestly not ready for anything intense."

"Mhmm. Intense can take its toll," I agreed, closing my eyes. He wrapped an arm around me, pulled me closer; I wriggled slightly.

"You look tired and sad, Shan. What's on your mind?"

"Just... wishing, I guess."


"For the experiences you've had. Mine have been slim pickings. Best sex I had was from a girl..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up a bit. A girl?"

"I licked some carpet once, Olly, it's nothing major."

"Wow... I just... Shan, that's something I honestly never thought I'd hear come out of your mouth."

"I was lonely, she was nice... match made in heaven, really."

"Are you..."

I laughed. "No, no Olly. When I'm anything it's penetration I want, not clit... well, mostly anyway. But... variety is the spice of life."

I watched him shaking his head, amused at the effect it had had on him. "Shall I tell you about it?"

"No, please don't tell me about the time you shagged a girl... of course I want to hear about it, what the fuck," he yelled, laughing.

I snorted. "Typical guy."

"Shan, when a hot girl says she's got lesbian tendencies... that's right up there in the top three of every guys' fantasy list."

"Hot girl?"

He thumped the back of my head. "Don't act dumb, it demeans you."

"I think I'm attractive, not hot, Olly."

"Shannon," he said. I glanced up at him, then away, disturbed by the intensity of his expression. "Don't belittle yourself."

I shrugged, flushing.

Olly pulled me in and touched his forehead to my temple for a moment.

I let out a small, shuddering breath and waited for the shivers to pass.


The fire hissed and cracked; golden sparks chased one-another up into the flue, and the logs jetted out whorls of smoke as they burned. Ollie sat, and I lay on my side, watching the firelight playing on his face.

"So?" he probed, gently.

I took a breath. "I guess this is about the girl."

"It's a miracle, she's a mind reader."

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Olly."

"Yeah yeah." He waved his hand. "I hear that a lot."

I lay still a moment, remembering.

"It was a dark and stormy night," I began.

"Oh, for fuck sakes," he said in disgust.

"Olly, I'm serious. It was a dark and stormy night. It was winter. July. She and I were studying in the library, or at least, trying to. The wind was howling, it was hard to concentrate because other buildings kept losing roof tiles and the bins outside were blowing around and crashing into walls."

"Uh huh. Less scene setting, more action."

I snorted. "Fine. The library was closing and her room was closer than the car park; when she saw me packing up she offered me some tea and a warm place to hide while I waited for the worst of the weather to pass. We dashed across the quad to her residence and were both completely soaked before we'd got halfway there."

"It was mad... it was... exhilarating. The wind. The rain. The noise. I felt so alive in that moment. She was holding my hand; I can remember the feel of her fingers in mine, the way she laughed as we ducked into the entrance hall of her residence. Our bags, our clothes - totally soaked too. Her hair, plastered to her face, and the grin she gave me as she brushed it out of her eyes."

"She let me into her room and handed me a towel and a dressing gown, then dried herself off; she didn't seem self-conscious when she stripped to change. It... she captivated me. She was tall... almost as tall as me. She had this amazing flame-red hair. And she had these unbelievable legs... "

"She was flushed from the run and the cold air. She caught me staring, and... and she turned to face me, smiled, and asked if I liked the view."

"You clearly did."

"I stammered out some apology. I can still remember the sound of her laughter. The way she sauntered over to me, without a stitch on; the way she leaned forward... she had these lovely, lovely small breasts, delicate pink nipples... and this scent. Oh god, Olly," I added with a small shudder. "I wish I could have bottled that. She sat on my lap, lifted my chin gently, and then just kissed me."

"Wow," he breathed. "Oh god, that sounds hot."

"You just simply... Olly, words just don't do the feeling justice. You know that trite phrase, 'She took my breath away"'"

"Mm, I've heard it..."

Report Story

byonehitwanda© 75 comments/ 364236 views/ 506 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

5 Pages:12345

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar: