Truth or Dare

I'm in the bathroom, watching porn.

We're supposed to be leaving in ten minutes, but I'm horny and I'm frustrated and I just need to work off some energy, lest I spend the next few hours unconsciously rubbing my thighs together or tenting out my swimming top. My boobs might not be

big,

but I'm painfully aware how prominent my nipples can get when I'm not wearing a bra, thanks to a few mortifying winter mornings at school.

I hear Dion's footsteps advancing up the hall, and despite the closed door I lift my legs up off the floor reflexively. It makes the closed lid of the toilet I'm sitting on creak, and I wince, but then he walks past and into his room. I hear the door shut--he's probably changing into his new swimsuit too.

I relax, letting my fingers start to draw circles around my clitoris. I half-cross my legs around my hand, trying to intensify the sensations, but I can't quite get them at the right angle. On my phone screen, cramped by its diminutive size and scarred by several hairline cracks, two hunky guys are jerking each other off in a position that would in any other circumstance be an incredible feat of contortionism.

It's my usual bread and butter when I brave visiting porn sites, but it's not working for me today. I click back, start scrolling through various violently-titled videos.

"Double-dicking my subby math teacher." "Getting his ass pounded by two football teams -- and the janitor." "Meeting up for illicit sex with my wife's boyfriend, you won't believe what happens next"... Nothing, nothing, nothing...

I sit back and angle my hips up, then suck on the tip of my middle finger and slip it between my lips. My newly-shaven labia seems to make them more sensitive, and I push and pull my finger up and down for a while, but quicky grow desperate for more. And yet, despite my urges, I can barely fill myself past the first joint of my finger before it starts to feel uncomfortable.

I've ventured out of the gay categories on the site now, scrolling defeatedly. Pretty men have disappeared from the thumbnails; it's just their dicks, looming ominously over thick-lipped pouty ladies, or extremely closeup--and perhaps unflattering--shots of cum-spattered pussies. I'm about to give up entirely when a title catches my eye in the split second it flies past the screen. I scroll slowly back up, my heart beating faster as I wonder if I saw what I think I did.

Yep.

"DD sister loves brother's huge meat."

Hardly a classy title, but it's the first time I've seen the word "brother" without "step" in front of it on a porn site. I nervously click the video, my middle finger still partially inside myself. I find I'm able to slide it in a little more.

The video opens to the both of them sitting on a couch. Not exactly original, and the acting is atrocious, but then the camera switches angles and I realise it's a multicam production. There's a budget behind this.

I skip forward a few minutes. They're talking about their dad being out on a date--seems familiar--and while I'm normally all for a porn plot I'm desperate to see if this is real, or if they're gonna mention that they at least have different mothers or something.

But then she says it. "We can't... you're my brother. That's incest!"

I pause it, adjust the earbud in my ear, then replay it.

"Incest!"

Fuck, that turns me on. A shiver runs down my spine, from the back of my neck all the way through to my pussy. In barely a second I'm wet, soaking even. I push my finger all the way in, then back out. Then I add another.

You're sick, getting off to this.

I skip forward a bit more, and now he's eating her out. That must feel so good. I imagine Dion kneeling in front of me, just like he was that first day. I'd be lying back on my bed--no,

our

bed--and spreading my legs and he'd moving his head between them and opening his mouth, lips puckered to kiss my lips. Tongue out, to lick my clit. Teeth carefully bared, to gently nibble...

Another skip, and she's giving him a blowjob. I wonder what Dion tastes like.

Another skip, and--

"Ash, what are you doing in there!? We've gotta go!"

"Fuck o--!" I get halfway through saying before realising that's probably not very nice. "Um... 'fuck, o-ohh you're right', I mean. We're seeing that girl, aren't we?"

"Yes," Dion says. He doesn't sound impressed. "We're supposed to be meeting Sophie at that seafood place in like ten minutes."

I take a deep breath, pull my finger out of my vagina, and clear my throat. "Yeah, r-right. Well, I'm done, so... hang on." I stand up and give the toilet a flush, to make it convincing. My pussy's still so wet that I feel a drip of liquid slide down my inner thigh. I grit my teeth. "We definitely gotta leave

now?"

"If we don't wanna be late."

There's a moment's pause.

"And we don't want to be late, Ash", he reminds me.

"Of course not," I huff. "I'll just... wash my hands and meet you outside."

We're sitting in Albert's now, looking at the menus. Unsurprisingly, it's all seafood, and mostly battered at that. My two least favourite things. I glance up and give my brother a sour look.

"What?"

"We both hate seafood, Dion."

He shrugs. "Just because we never have it. It's an acquired taste. I think I'll try the... uh..." He frantically searches for something edible to our humble pallets, then pauses. "Oh you've got to be kidding me."

I flip my own menu around to where he's at. There, at the top;

"Bush Tucker Special."

A scan of the provided photo reveals what looks to be barramundi in a lemon cream sauce, buttery mash potato, and a sad-looking side salad with a few bluebell leaves in it.

"Lemon sauce and mashed potato... just like our ancestors used to eat."

I grin. "Could've at least thrown some yams in there. And served it up on mereny with some pindak jam. Bam, real bush tucker. They should hire me here."

Dion smiles at me, brown eyes glittering, and just that simple little expression makes me feel warm and cosy. "You're going to kill it at TAFE, Ash. The hospitality department won't know what hit 'em."

"Thanks." We look at each other for a while longer, neither saying anything. I'm about to push my foot forward to rest it against his when his eyes flit upward and behind me. A moment later he sits straight, and I sigh as from behind a melodious voice says, "Hey guys! Sorry I'm a little late!"

A gentle cloud of sweet perfume drifts by, making my nose tingle, and then a warm hand touches my bare shoulder. I flinch away, and the thin strap of my camisole slides down my arm.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you." Sophie leans around me and grins, her perfect face looking all dumb and happy and friendly and annoying.

"Just didn't expect it," I mumble as I flick the strap back up. Dion didn't even notice the minor malfunction--he's too busy staring at Sophie's outfit. When she sits next to me, I see why; I'm not sure exactly what I was expecting--I suppose some kind of white semi-sheer micro bikini flaunting her assets in all of their glory. While it's certainly a bikini, it's an opaque red sports one, obviously meant for actual swimming rather than lounging around on the sand. It's got thinnish straps over the shoulders, but a thicker band circling around under her arms. Rather than immodest triangles, it's a form-fitting bralette style, and it's tight. The compression effect presses her breast down and out of the way while somehow simultaneously making them seem all the more curvaceous and striking. It doesn't help that her skin is smooth, lightly tanned, and utterly flawless apart from a few little birth patches that make just her look even more pretty. Ugh.

She's exchanging a few words with Dion, which gives me time to glance down her narrow waist and toned belly to her hips. She's wearing a loose pair of very brief shorts, and I can see the matching bottoms to her bikini peeking out the waistband. They ever so slightly press in the skin around her hips.

By leaning back in my chair, I can see she's barefoot, and her toenails are painted a pale red as well. Who even has time to put together a look like this? And she was just at work, too!

"...Good choice! How about you, Ashley?"

"Wha? Um, no, I've never seen the point of painting my, uh... toenails."

Sophie blinks at me, a pleasant smile on her face. Dion slaps that table. "What the hell are you on about?"

I shake my head. "Sorry, a million kilometres away. Uh... I think I'll just get some wedges."

"And no fish!?" our new friend says, scandaled. "But that's Albert's speciality!"

"Then he can eat it." I flip my menu resolutely closed. Dion purses his lips at me.

Sophie, unfazed as ever, runs a delicate finger down the menu. "Let's see... I've had that, that was good. Ooh, but that's good too... but then that would be nice as well..."

"How about the Bush Tucker Special?" I drawl.

"Ash..." Dion warns.

"I've never tried that one before," Sophie says, poking the picture of it. "What sort of things would it have in it?"

"It says it below," I say, "same as the others."

"Oh. Right, yes. Um... mmn, seems pretty good! What're bluebell leaves?"

"Leaves from the bluebell flower."

"Cool! What do they do? Are they good for, like, your health or something?" Sophie's eyes are so big and wide, so adorably naïve that it's truly hard to feel anything against her. I try anyway.

"They strengthen your teeth and raise your blood sugar levels by fifty percent," I say. "But they can put you into a coma if they're not cooked just right."

"Wow, really?"

"No, ignore her," Dion growls. "It's just a salad petal. Like geranium or honeysuckle."

"Oh. Okay." Sophie glances at me, and I avert my gaze, feeling a little bad. Dion goes up to place our orders at the counter, though before he does he gives me a stern looks that says,

play nicely.

Just like in the shop, we're left sitting in silence. Until once again, Sophie's the first to break it.

"I didn't know they used to grow potatoes here," she says, looking closer at the special. "Or lemons. They must have floated over on the ocean thousands of years ago."

My brain combusts and I turn my full body to her, brows low and mouth agape, but then I see Sophie's nervous grin and realise she's messing with me. She giggles and gives my arm a gentle push, her hand once again on my bare skin. "I'm not

that

stupid," she says. "Just a little bit stupid. Bear with me, please."

She hasn't moved her hand. I vaguely worry she's covertly feeling for any muscles--she won't find them if she is I calmly shrug her off and fiddle with the menu again. "I like your bikini. Is it from your shop?"

"Yeah! We should've fitted you up with something too. You'd look great in a one-piece."

Because it'd cover more, is what she means.

I shrug again, and then Dion's back and I can mentally check out of the conversation for a while.

To give Albert's some credit, the wedges were pretty good, and when I tried a bit of Dion's snapper it didn't immediately make me sick, so it had that going for it. I'll admit I was slightly annoyed that Sophie's Bush Tucker monstrosity actually smelled darn good. Not Noongar in the slightest, and I refused her offered forkful out of principal, but I couldn't entirely hate it. At least it didn't hurt anyone's reputation.

Roughly forty minutes later Sophie drove us a little way out of town, down a dirt track to a nicely secluded beach embraced on both sides by tall coastal rock.

"Nice car," Dion tells her as we get out. A gentle wash of coastal breeze grazes my skin, making my camisole flap around my waist.

"It's my auntie's," Sophie tells him back as she retrieves several towels and a bottle of wine from the boot. She'd come prepared, it seemed. "Ashley, mind grabbing those three glasses?"

I wave a hand. "I don't drink. Neither does Dion. But I can get yours?"

Her face falls slightly, and I'm only a little guilty at the smug feeling I get. "Oh, no, I... it'd be a bit sad drinking by myself, wouldn't it? I don't, um... drink much anyway, so..." Her face flushes red as she puts the bottle of wine back and closes the boot, and I feel a little bad again. My emotions are on a rollercoaster at the moment.

"It's fine, we can get drunk on ocean vibes," I say, and gently take the towels from her. A gesture of reconciliation, hopefully. "Let's go!"

This little section of beach is completely empty, a miracle considering how packed the coasts just a few minutes away are. We lay the towels out on the sand, and I'm just digging the corners down a bit when I glance over at Sophie and pause. She's bent over, facing away from us, sliding her shorts down. Her bikini bottoms are as form-fitting as I expected, and I have to admit she really does have a good butt. I glance at Dion, see him looking too, and then our eyes meet and I frown at him. He gives me an innocent shrug back.

"Well?" Sophie says, fully bikini-ed out now. She's standing with a hand on her hip, raven-black hair swishing out in the breeze behind her. "You're not going to swim in that shirt, are you?"

"No..." I say, fully aware that they're both staring at me now. I grab the hem of my camisole and pull it up, covering my face so I don't have to see their expressions as my own, much less sexy top is revealed. Dion's seen it already, but now that he can compare it to Sophie...

He's probably not even looking at you anyway. He's only interested in her.

I pull the rest of my shirt over my head and throw it on the ground, slumping forward a bit and bringing and arm across my shirt. I look at Dion, and he's got a little smile on his face as he looks at me. I smile back.

Sophie's looking at me too, but not at my face. I can only imagine what she's thinking right now. Something judgemental, probably. At least I'm already wearing my swimming shorts, so I don't have to go through the motions of removing those in front of them.

"Right!" says Dion, making Sophie jump. "What should we do? Swim? Build sandcastles? Ooh, let's bury Ashley!"

I stick my tongue out at him. "We're gonna swim, right? What else is there to do at the beach?"

Sophie clears her throat. "I thought we could hang out a bit before going in? If that's alright. Just don't feel like getting wet just yet."

Jesus, I've been wet all afternoon.

I fold my arms, well aware that the longer we're out on the sand, the more time Dion will have to compare us. "We can hang out anytime though. We've got the water to ourselves here, may as well use it. Come on Dion, let's swim."

My poor brother looks torn. He glances between us, and the scenario of him turning me down pops suddenly into my head and just the thought of it twists my stomach, so I decide to take fate into my own hands and stride off toward the water. If he follows me, then it's a sign, I decide. And if he doesn't, well...

"...too close to the rocks!" Sophie calls after me, but in my determination I miss the first half of what she's saying. Probably something about the waves being rough near the coastal shelf. Doesn't think I can handle swimming well enough not to get swept into them. Well, she can just feel silly watching me glide through the water like the graceful mermaid I'm going to be, then. That'll show her.

Sophie shouts something else, but I'm already wading into the water near the edge of the rocks. The water's deliciously warm, and the sand underfoot is lined with tide-smoothed pebbles. The sponge-like rock shelf to my side is green and white with moss and little shrubs and prickly coastal bushes, though none I recognise by name.

"Ash!" Dion shouts. The urgency in his voice gets my attention and I finally stop and turn--and immediately on the smooth pebbles underfoot. The water's waist height here, so a fall isn't exactly going to be fatal, and I don't even bother putting my arms out to catch myself. Yet, my intention of gracefully splashing down into a backstroke is spoiled when something sharp flicks up from my thigh to my first rib and I yelp. A few moments of confused splashing later, Dion's jogged over and pulled me partway out of the water.

I rub my leg. "Ouch. Dammit, what was that? It stings..." I twist my head around, look down at my side, then spot a line of red on my hand. "Huh? Oh fuck! I'm bleeding. Dion! I'm bleeding!"

"I can see that," he says, though he doesn't sound as panicked as he ought to.

"That's my blood! Did I get bitten by a shark? Am I gonna die?" I pat my leg, feeling if it's still there. It is, thankfully.

"Ash, calm down. It's just a nick, see? A little bit of blood." He wipes a finger up the thin cut, clearing the red. A little more wells up, but not much.

"Ashley! Are you okay?" Sophie's here now too, and I realise that this probably isn't doing my side of the comparison any good. "It's those bushes," she says. "The thorns are real nasty, I tried to warn you..." Her eyes are wide and genuinely apologetic. "They grow on the sides of those rocks, you gotta watch out for--oh!"

I glare at her target. Some kind of caper, but obviously far more deadly than the kind we get at home. I can see a line of blood and a bikini bottom hanging off one of its thorns. My blood. And... and my...

Oh no.

I realise why Sophie stopped talking. Dion, too. Together, we all look down at my completely naked, fully bared pubis.

I squeeze my legs together and spin around, then realise showing them my nude butt isn't a

whole

lot better and so awkwardly turn side-on, slapping my hands over myself. Dion turns away, but Sophie isn't quite so fast. Her eyes are very wide as she stares.

I glare at her. "Um?"

She shoots her head up, expression bewildered. "Your... it's..." Her cheek twitches, and then she gives her head a quick shake as if to clear it and wades awkwardly past me, picking up the swimming shorts. They hang down in a straight line, from one end of the waistband to the other. They've been completely severed in half.

"Lucky you only got a light scratch," Dion says, apparently deciding that if Sophie doesn't have to turn away, he doesn't either. "If the thorns can do that to polyester, it could've done way worse to you."

"They really need to put signs up," Sophie says.

"Or weed them out."

"Hello," I say, "I've got no pants. Gimmie those."

"They're wrecked, sis."

"I'm not going to just stand here naked in front of you guys!"

"You're in water! Sit down!" Dion says, and I blink. It seems a very sensible suggestion, so I do just that, then hiss when my leg burns so I stand back up again.

"Ow!"

"Oh, right, salt water," Dion says guiltily. "Bad idea. But I mean it's... disinfecting, right?"

I shake my head at him. Sophie passes me the ruined shorts and I hold them over my naked pussy. "Of all the times to try shaving..." I mutter.

"I've, um... I've got a spare bikini in my car. It's a little small for me, but it'd probably fit you."

I sniff.

'Cause I've got no hips or tits?

"Also, uh... it's a little... well, it's not really meant for swimming..."

"Not like I'm going to be doing much of that anyway," I sigh, running a free hand up my side. It still stings. "If you could lend it to me, then... yeah, thanks."

"Yes. Right, I'll just..." She glances back at me one more time, then jogs to the car. I watch her assets jiggle a little as she goes. A butt that can still bounce in a sports bikini should be illegal.

This time, though, Dion

isn't

looking at her. He's looking at me with a touching concern. "Let me see it again," he says, just a little commanding. I stare at him.

"See what?"

"Your cut."

"Oh! Right. Yes."

Of course that's what he meant, you idiot.

I turn my side to him and move the modesty scrap sideways... and then a little further, too. Just enough that if he was to turn his head, he'd see the flat mound of my pussy.