Taking Advantage, The Family's Story Ch. 02

"You shouldn't tease your sister like that Martin, it's not nice," said his Mother.

Watching the way his mother was smiling, and sauntering suggestively over towards him from the kitchen. Martin became very flustered at the sight of his mother's approach. He didn't know what had caused it, but he felt it deep down inside, disturbingly deep down.

"Well what do you expect," he said, defensively.

"She's walking around the house in her housecoat and nightie, all done up like a dogs dinner. I never did anything like that when I was her age," he said.

"Plus," he said.

"You know she really loves it."

Amanda had to laugh, she couldn't help but laugh, as the tension she was feeling, suddenly evaporated. 'Thankful at least, that he thought she'd had her nightie on.

"No Martin, you didn't," said his Mother sitting down on the bench next to him at the table.

"For one thing, you didn't wear nighties, and for another, you were far too busy doing... other things!" she said, with raised eyebrows, giving him a meaningful look.

Martin wasn't listening to his mother, he'd become all to aware of the presence of her warmth next to him. Her arm around his shoulders, the heat from her thigh against his, as well as her womanly scent.

But most of all, the thing that was most disconcerting him. Was her full, and firm breast, pressing against his upper arm, that had him confused, and his manhood starting to raise in his shorts.

"But think about it Martin," she was saying, amused at seeing him embarrassed by her words, 'or so she thought.'

"So give her a little space eh," she said, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it.

He'd missed half of what she had said to him.

"Oh... okay," said Martin," covering himself and smiling sheepishly at her.

"But did you see the way she squirmed," he said laughing,

"Sometimes Martin, I just wonder how your sister can love you as much as she dose, when you treat her like that," said Amanda, also smiling.

"Cause she's my sister," he said after a little thought.

"And because I know she loves it, that's why."

"Maybe...maybe," said his mother patting his hand and getting up.

"Anyway, I'm going upstairs now to have my shower, you can have yours when I'm finished," she said.

"Okay mum," he said watching her closely, as she headed for the stairs.

The first door on the right of the landing, was the bathroom, followed by Amanda's room (with a view of the back garden.) and then the stairs up to the new loft room.

First room, on the left of the landing, was Martin's room, followed then Amber's room.

On the way down the landing to her room, Amanda popped her head into see how Amber was doing. Only to find Amber sitting at her vanity table wiping the make up off her face.

"Hi hun," said Amanda stepping into the room. "Are you all right," she asked.

"No I'm not," replied Amber, angrily.

"I'm sick and tired of him treating me like a little kid. Doesn't he realise I'm grown up now." she said, throwing the wipes in the bin beside her seat.

She was still felt a bit put out because the first part of her plan had failed. But maybe, 'she thought hopefully,' that he was just waiting until mums out of the way.

Amanda couldn't help it, she bit her bottom lip, and had look out of the window into the front garden. Trying to hide the smile on her face, until she felt in control enough to face her daughter again.

"Yes you are my dear," said her Mother placating her.

"Your my big girl, how dare he love his sister enough to want to protect her against all them bad boys out there," she said. Enjoying this little by-play with her daughter.

"BOY'S," spat out Amber, with disgust.

"I hate BOY'S, at school, they were always pulling my pig tails. Or punching my arm and running away."

"Did Martin really say that he loved me," said Amber, suddenly.

Amanda, again had to turn her face away to hide her reaction.

"In a way yes, that's why he acts like he does," she said.

"So you don't like boys then," she said, turning back to face her daughter. Heroically keeping her face straight.

"NO I DON'T," said Amber.

"I HATE THEM... I hate them all, their horrid," she said.

"Does Martin really love me," she finished looking earnestly at her Mother.

"Yes Amber, I think your brother really does love you, no matter what he says or dose," she said.

"I also think those other boys liked you too," said Amanda.

"I remember when I was about your age, there was this one particular boy in my class, I liked him. In fact, I liked him a lot, but every chance he got, he would pull my hair or bump into me. Some times, he would even knock my books out of my hands and laughed at me. 'I'll get you,' I told him, there were lots of times I went home crying because of him."

Amber watched her mother closely, she never heard her Mother talk about herself when she was young, and she didn't want to miss out on anything her mum told her.

"Then one day," continued Amanda, "one of his friends came to me and asked me if I'd like to go out with him..., this boy I mean. Of course I told this friend of his no, I also told his friend, why I didn't want to go out with him, well," said Amanda.

"The next day at home time, this boy was standing by the school gates waiting for me.

I tried my best to get past him unseen, but he grabbed my arm, I was just about to slap his face, when I heard him say that he was sorry about the way he treated me. 'What!' I said, what do you mean by that," I said.

"Then he told me, he only treated me like that because he liked me so much, but was too shy to say anything, until now, 'well,' said Amanda confidentially leaning in towards her daughter.

"I did like the boy," she said nodding.

"And he did look so pitiful that I felt sorry for him. So I told him I would go out with him," she said smiling.

"So you see, just because a boy pulls at your pigtails, doesn't mean he hates you."

Amber had that far away look on her face, as her Mother stood up to leave. She was obviously thinking about what she had just been told. Amanda was just about to leave the room when Amber called her back.

"Mum," she said, "do you really think those boys did like me?" she asked.

"Yes love I do," replied Amanda, "I think they liked you a lot."

"... Mum," said Amber again. "What happened with that boy you went out with."

"Oh him," said Amanda smiling, "...he became your father."

A big cheesy smile split Amber's face at the thought, and she was also hugging herself, thinking about all her mum had just told her.

Amanda, left Amber's room and headed towards her own bedroom, also thinking about their father. She did miss him, she still missed his company, and she missed 'it...' you know.

It had always good between them, always satisfying, and it always left her spent and breathless. Just thinking about him now, started to have an effect on her. Her body began to respond to the very thoughts she was having about it.

Trying disparately to calm herself, she put any such thoughts right out of her mind. Collected her things from her room, and went straight to the bathroom to get her shower.

Amber heard her Mother entering the bathroom and waited until she heard the shower go on And that's when she picked up the extension in her room to call her best friend.

It wasn't that long after Amber's started her call to her friend Clare. That her brother had noticed the extension light come on the downstairs phone.

'It must be Amber, he'd thought,' she's probably ringing her friend Clare about tonight. What do those two talk about, when ever their together, their always in some huddle talking secretively.

As he approached the phone on his way to the stairs. He briefly considered lifting the receiver, and listening to his sister and her friend. 'It would serve her right, he thought,' if he picked up the phone and listened in to them, for getting me into trouble. He reached out and grabbed the handset and was just about to pick it up when he decided against it.

It wasn't worth it, he thought, who really wants to know what they talk about, he thought heading for the stairs.

If only, he had just picked up that phone, what secrets would he have learned about them. But as we all know, 'if only' is a thread that binds all of our lives.