Familial Shores: Pt. 01

Canton Abbey is neither a place to find good Chinese food, nor is it a religious community. Rather, it is the name of the sole beach house on the tip of a peninsula at the southernmost end of a rather famous island connected to the mainland by a long bridge.

To say Canton Abbey is off the beaten track is an understatement. It's been in my mother's family for generations. It did start off life in the 30's as a humble beach house among the golden dunes of this unspoilt coastline, but over the years, it has been updated and extended into something akin to a fortress mansion. No one know where the name comes from. It's though great great great Uncle Oliver Boliver (that was actually his real name!) christened it after the locations of the two businesses that made him.

I'm David Boliver, by the way. I'm twenty-two, and I'm a twin. My fraternal twin brother, Simon and I literally split for opposite sides of the globe the minute we could. Not because we don't get along. More like so we could live as non-twins for a while. Dad popped his clogs when we were young and mom spent her energy raising two reasonably well-balanced kids. The money helps, but she is an amazing woman. And a fine artist when she takes the time to herself.

Canton Abbey is where generations of Bolivers spent their summers. These days, there's so many of us, we time share it between us. And this was our month to enjoy the seclusion. I packed mom up in my car and we took off early Friday to make Canton by lunch. Simon had already been travelling for two days and would fly in to the nearest big city and take a chopper to where we had a launch berthed. He'd then take that to the island to meet us early afternoon. The delectable Aunt Peg, Mom's sister and Uncle Frank, her husband, would be there already, opening windows and stocking the refrigerators. Peg and Frank were great fun. And would be no hardship. They'd never had kids and always treated Simon and I as if we were theirs. That meant they'd be stocking the bar too.

We pulled into the carport beside Frank's new Porsche just shy of 12.30. Traffic had been light and we'd made great time. I unpacked the bags while mom went inside to say hello to her sister and brother-in-law. By the time I arrived, laden down with mom's overpacking, I felt like I'd walked into the sad aftermath of a Monday night in a nightclub. Mom stood, back to the kitchen island, arms folded defensively, Frank was sitting awkwardly to one side, legs crossed, and Peg was just yanking open the fridge door like she wanted to rip it off the wall. I'd heard voices on my way into the kitchen, but they died just before I entered. Grown-ups stuff, I decided. Within a split second, the spell was broken, and Peg raced over and mashed her ample bosom against me, covering my face with kisses. Frank waved lazily from the chair. Mom looked like she was trying not to look strained at whatever they had been talking about and ordered me to drop her bags to her room.

Feeling a little humpy at not being offered a beer at the least, I stomped off, struggling to carry all the bags. I deposited mom's massive hoard in her room and toddled off to pack my few belongings into the drawers in my own bedroom.

The house was a familiar hug. Every year, it seemed smaller, but the furnishings and artworks were like old friends I'd known all my life. I collapse on the bed to release the kinks from the drive and allowed myself a few minutes to daydream and let the grown ups finish their grown up conversation. I detested an air. I'd always been sensitive to the mood of the room and would do anything to avoid unpleasantness. I found an old pack of Marlboros in the bedside drawer and contemplated popping out on the veranda for a cheeky summer smoke. Probably just dust by now, I thought.

By the time I heard Simon's boat put-putting up to the jetty, I was in good form again. Having re-joined the others in the kitchen, I found the mood had turned jovial with a little light reminiscing going on. Frank playfully joked with mom and Peg about their adolescent crushed on the island. Simon burst in like a whirlwind. I'd always been the quiet one. Simon, the Tasmanian Devil. He whisked Peg off her feet and kissed her on the mouth, slapped Frank on the back and pecked mom before he'd even dropped his duffel. He looked amazing, mahogany, compared to my pasty complexion, fit and strong. His blonde hair was long and almost hippyish. I looked like an Ivy Leaguer with my dark locks and round glasses.

"Ma famiglia" he greeted us. I awkwardly accepted his bearhug, and finally, beers were broken out.

Over dinner, prepared by the wonderfully gifted Frank, Simon regaled us with tales of Australia, New Zealand and a smattering of Asian countries. I once again found myself in awe as his easy nature and conviviality. I was an awkward conversationalist even with people I knew well. Simon could talk or listen with equal attention to everyone in the room. We all warmed up under his gentle interrogation, and hung on his ever tale of derring-do.

Dinner ran late as they always did at the Abbey. Simon and I washed up while the others took their drinks out onto the veranda. By the time we'd joined them, Frank was passing a joint around, and it seemed we'd finally reached the age when we were allowed our fair share.

"David! You've given it a duck's arse!" Simon accepted the joint from me, gazing at the damp business end with disgust.

"Leave your brother alone." Mom smiled, obviously delighted to have us both here. As the evening wore on in laughter and story after story, I thought I sensed a strained look on mom's face. She appeared a bit drawn and I wondered whether it had taken being here on the island for me to realise it may have been there for some time. Frank and Peg were their usual relaxed selves, but mom seemed to have the weight of the world on her shoulders. I guessed whatever had been bothering her had been the subject of the awkwardness I'd walked in on earlier. I filed it away for later when I'd have the chance to talk to Simon about it.

Beers and wine gave way to long drinks as the sun set. I wandered off at some stage to have a shower, Simon to unpack. It was like we'd both picked up on some unspoken request to allow the oldies to talk amongst themselves. In the shower, as I soaped up, I looked ruefully down at myself. As young men, Simon and I had often seen each other naked and I had always been jealous of his manhood. His was long and thick, even flaccid, mine could reasonably be called average in every way, and virtually disappeared in the cold. That pretty much summed up our love lives too. Simon was always bouncing from girl to girl, they seemed to just fall at his feet. Me on the other hand, never really had much luck, bar the odd fumble here and there when people realized how rich I was.

Boardshorts and a tee were requisite eveningwear, and I laughed when I saw Simon wearing almost identical clothes to me later. The Canton Uniform. Laughter and joy was short lived, Simon almost immediately announced he was taking my car into town to meet some old friends. As with everything in our relationship, what was Simons was Simons. I wasn't invited and immediately felt like a spare wheel in the adult sandwich, to mangle some metaphors.

Mom and Frank were engrossed in an animated conversation that I tried my best to earwig, to no avail. Peg, catching my separateness from the evening, declared herself 'a little squiffy' and asked if I'd walk down to the jetty with her. I assented chivalrously and abandoned my deck shoes. Peg was dynamite, even if she was mom's sister. She was short, thin but athletic, with amazing long blonde frizzy hair that fell in long ringlets. Mom was a little taller than her, a little rounder, darker and had long ago taken to dying and straightening her hair. So, although there were similarities of feature, to the casual observer, they didn't look much like sisters at all. Peg wore a tiny little orange bikini with a light beach blouse open over the top. It did little to hide her big breasts and perfect butt, and I forced myself to look down at me feet as we sauntered across the sands.

"So, how's the love life." She asked gaily, then immediately regretted such a crass question. "I'm sorry. Occupational aunt hazard." She said smiling as I smiled beside her. "I won't pry. Just hoping to live vicariously for a moment or two." She added wistfully. That made me wonder whether everything wasn't rosy between herself and Frank.

"Nothing to report, anyway." I said glumly. "Simon's the one you need for salacious conquests."

She took my arm and gave it a gentle squeeze as we walked, a little unsteady on the sand and on the quantity of booze ingested. I was feeling a little giddy myself. We made it to the end of the jetty, out of sight of the building and sat on the end, swinging our legs over the quietly lapping water below. She was uncomfortably close to me, squashed against my side, arm still hooked through mine. I recited mantra after mantra in my head, reminding myself not to get an erection beside this woman who had played a leading role in so many of my damper dreams growing up.

"Is mom ok?" I asked, more to break the ice than expecting a grown up answer. Peg seemed to give the question more thought than I felt it merited. Finally, she answered.

"She's going through a few thing at the moment. Nothing to worry about, just middle-aged existential dread really." I nodded not entirely sure what she meant.

"Frank's helping her through some issues." She added, voice slightly thick. Again, I nodded dutifully. Frank had been some kind of yogi or something in a previous life and was a great one for advice.

"It's best that we give them a little time to work things through." She sighed. "I expect Frank will be helping her put her finger on what's troubling her as we speak." She let out a slightly sarcastic laugh.

"Is everything ok, Aunt Peg?" I asked. She gazed between her swinging feet into the water an didn't answer straight away.

"Family is everything." She said quietly, eventually. Again, all I could do was nod and grunt an assent.

"I mean, you'd do anything for your brother, wouldn't you? Give up anything?"

I wasn't sure what she meant but agreed wholeheartedly. In fairness, I would give my life for my brother should it be required. I was fairly certain.

She sighed again, then smiled and leaned her head into my shoulder.

"Don't pay any attention to me, she said. I'm just feeling a little maudlin."

"Is everything ok?" I asked, putting my hand on the one that was draped around my shoulder. "I'm not much for advice, but I'm a good listener." I added, feeling immediately stupid.

She twisted her hand to hold mine and gave it a little squeeze.

"You really are the most thoughtful and empathetic boy." She held onto my hand and I felt an unwelcome twitch in my shorts.

"Just don't call me nice." I laughed, hoping to break Peg out of her introspective spiral. It didn't work.

"You remind me a lot of you mom and I, you and Simon." She continued as if I hadn't spoken. "You mom was the go-getter, gaggles of men hanging around her every word." I shifted a little, uncomfortably aware the conversation might be going in a direction I really didn't want to hear about.

"I was always the good one, the dependable one. The one who'd give up anything, any plans, anyone to make sure your mom was ok."

She was running her thumb over my hand as we talked. I felt my manhood filling out all by itself in my shorts and gulped. Suddenly, it didn't feel like there was anywhere to hide on the jetty. It wasn't like I could suddenly dive into the sea.

"Everything to make sure your mom had what se needed." Her voice trailed off and she lost herself in thought.

We sat there for a few minutes in silence. I concentrated on the sound of the breakers and watched the moonlight skitter on the waves out to sea. Eventually, Peg seemed like she'd decided to shake herself out of her fug. She broke her grip on me and stood, half turning away from me, and gazing out across the sea at the lighthouse in the distance. She lifted her arms, running her hands though her hair, making her blouse ride up.

This presented me with a close up view of her bikini bottoms. They were one step up from a thong -- barely (no pun intended). A small dusting circle of golden sand clung to each of her perfect, tanned buttocks. And where her bikini had shifted and clung while she sat, I could see white skin the sun had never seen. I could now chalk tan lines down as one of my fetishes. My erection was back and raging.

"What a beautiful night." She said brightly. He hand snaked down and unconsciously tugged the gusset of her bikini out of her crease, giving me the quickest glimpse of tiny blonde hairs beneath. I let out a deep breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Peg heard it and turned, her crotch virtually in my ogling face.

"Am I getting you down?" She smiled. I couldn't tell her that the exact opposite was the reason for my exhalation.

"I'm good." I said a little too brightly, trying not to stare at the camel toe bulge in my face, or the minute whisps of blonde pubic hair caught in the bands of her bikini.

"It's lovely having someone I can talk with." She said, sitting back down beside me. She knocked against me conspiratorially. "Someone who understands what it's like to be the other sibling." She put her arm back across my shoulder and pulled herself even closer to me, head against mine again.

"Promise you'll tell me if I'm making you uncomfortable, won't you?" She said quietly. I nodded in the dark and she could feel the movement against her own head.

"Good. I wouldn't want anything to be awkward between us."

"There isn't." I strangled. "You could never make me uncomfortable."

She turned her head slightly and kissed the side of my face.

"My sweet boy." I reddened indignantly at what I took to be a slight. I don't know whether she realized what she'd said, or if she was just continuing the thought.

"It's nice to have the complete and undivided attention of a man, for a change." She said a little bolder, and leaned so far into me I fell off balance sideways onto the jetty, her falling on top of me. That set her off laughing which instantly seemed to break the dark spell that had been hanging over her all evening. We clambered to our feet, and she turned and took my hands. I was painfully aware of my hard cock bolt upright in my shorts and prayed she didn't look down. Instead, she stepped towards me and hugged me tight, body to body. My mind went in paroxysms of embarrassment, but Peg acted like she didn't notice anything strange. She kept on holding me, way beyond the length of a normal hug, pressed tightly against me and the surely unmistakable presence of little David. Her head was pressed against the side of my head, one hand around the top of my back and one across my lower back. I was incredibly conscious of her touch, and of her breasts against mine, and her crotch pressing into my crotch.

"Oh, David." She sighed in a delicate faraway voice. Nothing she was doing was helping me dampen my ardour. In fact, everything she was doing was having the opposite effect. My ardour, in fact, was so dry it could have been a county in Tennessee. A bizarre thought crossed my mind. Maybe my cock wasn't big enough for her to feel? Or perhaps she was disappointed at its size and didn't want to draw attention to it? As usual, my own mind was setting out to assassinate me.

I could feel every tiny movement she made, magnified and intensified in my crotch. I was incredibly conscious of how little she was wearing, and kept my hands firmly across her back over her blouse. I was worried that if I touched her skin, it might make me explode on the spot. An outcome that was still dangerously and imminently possible regardless.

Eventually, she increased the space between us, but continued to hold on to me. Her forehead touched mine, and to a passer-by (if there had been such as thing on our desolate paradise) it would have looked like we were dancing a slow set. The thought must have crossed Peg's mind, because she began to shuffle her feet slowly, and move her hips a little as if hearing a tune in her head. Relieved to not be jabbing her with my implement an more, I began to sway in time with her movements. Her eyes were shut and she was smiling contentedly. I was taken with how beautiful and girlish she was. Much younger looking than her forty or so years. An unbearable desire to tilt my head and kiss her on her lips overcame me. At the same time, I thought to myself, this is mad, she's your aunt Peg! While I was still waiting on the outcome of my fighting demons, and trying to get up the nerve to move, I felt Pegs nose brush against mine. In case I wondered whether it was a random touch, she brushed noses again. And again, head tilting on her neck, eyes still closed. I watched her mouth move towards mine, and felt our lips brush. Her head was still moving, now she tilted it back in the other direction, oh so slowly, and brushed past my lips again, leaving me in no doubt she had intended the gesture.

I could hear my pulse in my ears, and feel tendrils of heat up through my cheeks. My heart was racing and I realized I was holding my breath. Her lips brushed against mine again, now with a little more pressure, a little more insistent. Her body continued to sway to the silent music in her head, as she moved back into my embrace, her crotch sliding against mine as she swayed. Her lips touched mine once again, and I felt them part slightly. My cock was throbbing in my shorts, and I was shaking all over.

"Would it be ok if I kissed you?" She whispered huskily into my ear, making me shiver. Nothing on earth could have made me deny her.

"Please." I answered throatily, desperately.

Her lips stopped on mine. The touch was electric. The softest, warmest flesh against my flesh. Even though it was only a tiny touch, the smallest scintilla of her skin against my skin, it was the most erotic sensation I have ever felt. Would probably ever feel. She allowed her lips to brush back and forth on mine. I was incredibly aware of very bump, pore and ridge as they slid over mine. The sensation was that of every having ounce of pleasure in the universe being condensed into the smallest point where our mouths met. My body thrilled at each and every shivering touch.

Then, her lips parted the smallest amount, and mine followed suit. The feeling was instantly different. Before, you could have imagined this was an inappropriate but chaste act between two people. Now, it was most definitely sexually charged, like the beginning of something very grown up about to happen. I became aware of a thrilling sensation radiating out from my nipples where her breasts gently pressed against them, swaying, caressing. The feeling spread out from my chest and through my entire body, only intensifying the burning desire in my loins.

First, I felt her breath against my mouth, in my mouth, tasting her heady exhalation as she breathed out, sucking it into my lungs. Then, the tip of her tongue traced slowly across the widening space between my lips. I heard her sigh contentedly, and felt her grip on me tighten, felt the pressure on my crotch and nipples intensify. My own tongue touched hers, stopping it in its tracks. In that moment, it felt like however many lines we had drawn in the sand and crossed, this was the final one. This was stepping beyond the point of no return.

Her tongue was in my mouth, and her hands began to slide up and down on my back. I fully opened my own mouth and mashed my lips against hers, my tongue searching out her tongue, inside of her lips and teeth. Our two tongues became proxy for two naked bodies intertwined and intimate, writhing against each other, in each other, exploring and caressing in making love.