This story contains incest. It is a very slow burner, so if that is not your thing, please feel free to close the story down and look elsewhere for your fun. I won't take it personally!
I don't really know where the inspiration for this story came from, which is unusual for me, but the idea stuck and wouldn't leave and this is the result. I hope you like it.
* * *
"What shall we get mum and dad for their anniversary this year?" Sophie asked. "It's twenty-five years this year, so it has to be something special!"
Noah looked over at his sister. She had a point, he conceded. "True," he acknowledged. "But I haven't a clue!"
"You've got to think, too, dummy," Sophie replied, with an exasperated look on her face. "You can't leave it up to me all the time!"
"I'm not leaving it up to you," Noah replied, perhaps a little more testily than he had intended to. "I just said 'I haven't a clue', 'not you figure it out'!"
"OK, OK," Sophie said, admitting defeat. "I know what you said, little brother!" She grinned that irritating grin she always gave him when reminding him that he was eleven months younger than she was.
"Piss off," he smirked back at her. It had been his go-to reply to her ribbing for about twelve years, although he'd only first slipped up and said it in front of their parents for the first time not long after turning fifteen.
She grinned back. It was nice to rib him, but nice that he never took it personally. It was also mildly ridiculous, considering that, although he had only turned eighteen a couple of months ago, whereas she was now nineteen, in all other ways he was not little compared to her.
Noah was taller than his sister by about 8 inches and was broader in the shoulders and more refined in the arms and legs. He also, she was horrified to discover during her early teens, had wonderful, full, thick hair whereas her own hair was long, but thin and broke easily. It was, she had decided some time ago, just the nastiest of nasty tricks played on her by the universe; a brother with better hair!
Not that this was getting them anywhere. For a few minutes, the two of them thought about the perfect gift for their parents, Mike and Julia.
Mike was a successful businessman - had been since leaving school at 16 with just a couple of GCSE's and what had seemed like an overblown sense of his own ability. He had started out as a market trader, buying cheap - but decent quality - goods from East Asia and selling them at a small, but not insignificant, profit. By the time he was eighteen, he had moved into his first flat but with a mortgage, not a rental agreement.
He had met and married Julia when they were both eighteen and moved her into his flat. Her father, Alan, had been convinced that they would be living under his roof within a year, but Mike had been equally convinced otherwise.
His business was growing and then Mike had discovered the stock market and found that he had an incredible skill for it. He bought cheap and sold at the right times and had his first million in the bank before he was twenty-one. It had been with a well-deserved sense of pride that he had shown his father-in-law the new, huge home he and Julia had bought just a few months later. Alan had been green with envy!
Several more years of successful stock market trading, plus his own business, meant that Mike and Julia had more money than they could spend in a lifetime. A couple of years later, Sophie come along, somewhat unexpectedly, but it hadn't been much of a bump in the road and when Noah came along less than a year later, they decided that two was enough and Mike got his tubes tied in a private hospital.
The two parents doted on each other - and on their children of course - and that was wonderful, but it did make buying presents for them hard!
The two siblings decided to give it a day or two to think it over and it was Sophie who came up with the idea a few hours later when she stumbled across an old photograph album.
"Look at these," she said, showing her brother the pictures of when the two of them were little children.
"Yeah, great," Noah said, glancing at the photo album with about as much enthusiasm as he might have shown had she told him he had to eat a plateful of cold vomit for his dinner. "So?"
"So," she replied, "why don't we recreate some of these and print them for mum and dad?"
"You're kidding, right?" he said.
"Why not?"
"Well," he began, looking properly at the pictures for the first time. Actually, he had to admit, it wasn't the worst idea. Many of the pictures had their parents in them, but there were loads with just the two children in. "OK," he conceded, "perhaps. But, I mean, look at them," he said. "We've got no clothes on!"
"We have in most of them," she disagreed. He was almost correct, though. As kids, they had often found the dirtiest places to run around and play in and they both loved nature and being outside. As such, their parents would just dress them in swimming costumes or their underwear half of the time and they'd just run around all day barely dressed. At least that meant very little washing (because, let's face it, no-one enjoys that) and the kids didn't seem to care.
"I guess," he conceded. He smirked. "It'll be good to see you in a bikini again, sis!"
"You pervert," she smirked back.
"Hey, this was your idea," he shot back at her.
"And only if you wear trunks like those," she pointed at a picture of the two of them, holding each other closely with their foreheads touching, but in which Noah wore a pair of trunks that were clearly too small for him and barely covered what moral decency said should be covered.
"Fine," he agreed, not really thinking about the consequences of what he was agreeing to, "as long as you wear a bikini like that." The bikini Sophie was wearing in the same picture was also too small and the top didn't cover her chest although, since she was about four in the picture, it didn't really matter too much.
"You really are a pervert," she said.
"Yep," he grinned at her. "Changing your mind?"
"Absolutely not," she replied. "Unless you've thought of anything better?"
Which he hadn't and she knew it. "No," he admitted. "You're probably right. And it is a good idea, I guess."
"Great," Sophie replied. "Now, mum and dad are going to that hotel in a couple of weeks. We'll have loads of time to take the pictures then, without them knowing what's going on."
"Sounds like a plan," Noah agreed. "It'll give me time to buy some trunks, too," he added. "I wear shorts in the pool."
"I know, dickhead," she laughed at him. "I've seen you in the pool often enough!"
He pushed her, only a little roughly. "Piss off," he said again. The two of them giggled.
* * *
Noah and Sophie waved their parents off on their weekend retreat to some health spa on the other side of the country and then went back inside. Their father loved the spa almost as much as their mother did, something which both kids found rather odd. Mike was not the kind of guy you looked at and immediately thought of as someone who enjoyed massages, scented oils and the sauna. It just went to show that you couldn't judge a book by its cover.
"Have you picked the pictures?" Noah asked as they went inside. It was another oddity about the two of them. Noah was the better photographer by a distance, but Sophie had the better eye for what pictures looked good. The two had often joked that they should set up a modelling agency. With his photographic skill and her keen eye for a good image, they'd probably make a fortune out of it.
"Yes," Sophie replied. "I'll go and get them."
Sophie went into her room and looked, once more, at the pile of pictures she had picked. There were only half a dozen of them, but they looked great and would be easy to recreate. Then, she looked at the last two pictures that she
really
wanted to recreate.
They were, quite possibly, the best pictures of the two of them that had ever been taken and she loved them. She was in one and Noah in the other. But there was a big problem with them. Big. Huge. She pondered, for the thousandth time, whether or not she could convince Noah to recreate them.
