My Sister Jean
Chapter 19 - Margi
Whatever tension there had been the previous day
between Jean and me was quickly dissipated in a day of
glorious diving on the Wall at Little Cayman. Our group was
uncharacteristically small. Margi, of course was our Dive
Master. Ian and Jan joined us and that was it, just us five
while Gladys' other guests choose to take the day off.
Margi said she'd like to dive with us and asked if we
might stay well within a safe profile, for she wanted Ian
and Jan to stay closer to her. My selfish desire to not be
encumbered with less experienced divers was far outweighed
by the fun of having Margi along to point out those
fascinating sights visible only to the knowledgeable. By
the end of the day, we returned in high spirits, laughing
and affectionately kidding each other.
"God! Don't you two BREATHE down there?" Jan asked on
the trip back.
Jean answered, "Sure we do, but not as often I guess."
Jan protested, "I don't see how you do it. I get a
little short of breath just with the excitement of it all.
And then there's the work of the sport..."
"If you're *working* at it, you're not doing it right.
It can be almost effortless and if you're not working hard,
then you're not using up a lot of air."
They fell into a conversation with Jean explaining that
they both carried far too much weight. Soon their
conversation had become a distant buzz. I'd tuned out.
A hand touched my shoulder and I turned to smile at
Margi.
"How's it feel to be back, Billy?"
"I can't tell you how alive I feel. It's somewhere
between wonderful and unbelievable"
"Jean told me that you thought I was a snot."
I was embarrassed. "Well, 'snot' wasn't exactly the
expression."
"Stuck up? Indifferent?"
I couldn't see her eyes behind her sunglasses, but that
she might see me better, I lifted my glasses as I spoke to
her. "First, I'm sorry. I apologize. I had no right to
expect anything special. You've always been friendly and
fair with me."
Margi reached out and touched my arm. "No, no...please
don't think of this as a complaint or a confrontation. It's
just that I want us to be friends and I don't wanna appear
stuck-up."
I still had a lot of questions about her last year's
behavior, but in the spirit of cooperation, I extended my
hand and said, "Let's do be friends." I wondered if I
sounded as stiff as I felt?
She ignored my hand and grabbed me behind the neck,
pulling us together for a quick kiss on the lips. "It's a
deal."
A deal? Now I had a deal with two women, I thought to
myself, but certainly different deals. The earlier deal
with Jean had to do with sexuality. This one with Margi had
to do only with being friends... or so I thought.
Back at Pirate's Pub as we were washing our gear, Margi
proposed getting together that night after dinner to listen
to a few new CD's she had recently purchased. "I know
you've heard "Enigma" but I've only caught a few cuts on the
radio back home. I'd love to hear all of it with you two
guys."
I'd been thinking how Jean and I might spend a little
time together but when she replied to Margi with warm
enthusiasm, I put that expectation aside for the moment.
And if I was entertaining any remote hopes of getting to
know Margi better - you know, as in making out - it'd have
to be another day. Oh well.
Sure enough, right after an extraordinary meal from
Gladys, Margi came over to our table and said, "We still
on?"
Jean glanced at me and then without waiting, said, "You
bet! I'm looking forward to it. Aren't you, Billy?"
"Sure am," I replied with all the confidence of a man
who has no idea just what he's looking forward to. If
nothing else, I was willing to let things unfold without my
direction.
"Cool! I'll get some CD's from my room and come right
over to yours, okay?"
"See you there," Jean called to Margi's retreating
back, then turned to me and asked, "Ready?"
"Uh...I'm ready to go *back*. Is there somethin' else
I should be ready for?"
Jean gave me a funny smile and said, "What do you
mean?"
"Nothin' I guess," I answered, getting up from the
table, still with the faint notion that there was something
I was missing. But then, that wasn't a new feeling. There
were times when I thought that if an instruction book had
been passed out on 'How to do Life,' I'd missed it.
It'd cooled off a little after sunset but the
oscillating fans still created a downdraft of sweet, cooling
air and I sprawled out under one, arms out thrown.
"I'm going to take another shower," said Jean. "If
Margi gets here before I'm done, entertain her, okay?"
I could hear her humming some tune in the bathroom
through the open door. A moment later, her clothes came
flying out the doorway, piece by piece, landing in a
disordered heap by her bed, panties last and on top of the
pile.
If I got up and peered around the corner, I'd likely
catch her nude, I thought and then smiled to myself. We'd
grown increasingly casual about dressing and undressing in
front of each other, but I still thought in terms of trying
to peek at her. There seemed to be something naughty and
delicious about peeking. If I called her, she'd probably
walk out nude, but it just wouldn't be the same. Maybe I
needed to get away with something. I was pondering that when
I heard Margi's voice outside the screen.
"Hi, Billy. Can I come in?"
"Sure, come on in, but I'm not dressed for company." I
suppose I offered that as an excuse for wearing nothing more
than the shorts I'd left on.
"You naked?" she asked with a little excitement in her
voice.
"Nope. Got shorts on."
"Darn," she said as she walked through the door.
"Thought I'd get even for you gawking at my boobs last
year."
"Margi, if it'd be an acceptable exchange - my being
naked for the chance to look at your boobs - why I'll take
'em off right now!"
She laughed but didn't reply to that. Instead, she
asked, "Where's Jean?"
I cocked my head toward the bathroom door and almost on
cue, the shower started. "She's freshening up."
"I think it's really neat that you guys are so open and
comfortable with each other that you share a room this way.
I wish I had a brother like you."
Gesturing toward the pile of discarded clothes on the
floor, I said, "Jean's not exactly a neat freak as you can
see."
"Wait'll you see my room," Margi replied, rolling her
eyes.
I caught that she didn't say, 'If you could see my
room.'
"Let me ask you something, Billy. I mean, it's kinda
personal. You mind?"
I shrugged. "Don't know. Guess you'll have to ask and
find out. If it is, I'll tell you, okay?"
"Well, it's like this. I'm a girl and I'm aware of
what guys do, especially around other girls. Good lookin'
girls, I mean."
I nodded. So far, I understood the words by not the
direction. "Yeah?"
She wasn't making eye contact with me and I thought her
cheeks were a bit pink. Was she embarrassed about
something?
"Uh...yeah. It's like they're always, uh...checkin'
'em out, you know?"
I shook my head to indicate that I didn't know.
"YOU know," she protested, "Like they're always looking
at their figures and all."
"So? I do that all the time."
"But your sister?"
"Why not?" I asked. "Don't you think she's good
lookin'? I sure do."
"Well...sure...but...I mean, doesn't it sometimes
bother you that she's so good lookin' and you two are so
close and all?"
"Margi, you think I'm gay or somethin'?"
"God, NO!" she almost shouted and then blushing, added
in a quieter voice, "No, not you. That's not what I mean.
I mean, you're all guy and she's a...a really sexy girl and
all. Don't that bother you?"
I was beginning to catch her drift. "I think I see
where you're going with this. You're wondering how I can
travel with Jean and be so physically close to her and not
be...excited? As that it?"
Nodding, she answered, "Yeah, somethin' like that."
In an unusual and unbidden action, I walked over and
picked up Jean's panties from the pile of clothes and held
them to my face a moment before chucking them into her lap.
"Things like this you mean?"
Margi gasped, literally gasped and stared at me with
round yes.
Jean's voice sang out from the bathroom over the sound
of the shower, "Margi, he trying to embarrass you with my
panties?" She laughed. Margi was holding Jean's panties and
looked confused.
Jean continued, "He did that with me a few years ago.
Don't let him get to you."
I jacked my thumb toward the bathroom and rolled my
eyes, then I said, "We tease each other a lot."
Holding up the panties, Margi asked, "Like this?"
"The first time he did it, he held them up to his nose
and smelled them!" Jean stood in the bathroom door, a towel
wrapped around her body and one on her head, her face shiny
and beaded with water as she smiled at us.
"Smelled them?" Margi asked, eyes wide with
astonishment. Then turning to me, she asked, "Did you
really?"
By this time my face was burning. Jean and I were
frank with each other and save our little talk with Mom,
we'd not come out of the closet about our mutual attraction
to each other. Where was Jean going with this?
Attempting to put on a bold face, I said, "Yes.
Really. I guess it's the pheromones."
"Fero...?"
Jean chimed in, "The scent of a woman's sex that
appeals to a man, that turns him on. You know, Margi.
You've smelled yourself, I'm sure."
By this time, Margi was as red as I was and with Jean's
accusation that *she* had a sexy odor, she began to fidget,
looking back and forth between us and then at the panties
she still held, perhaps wondering how's she'd get out of
this. She was probably used to guys hitting on her, perhaps
even girls, but she hadn't ever encountered a situation
quite like this, I was sure.
"No...well...sure, doesn't everyone...but who...I mean
yuck, who *wants* to smell *that*?"
"Billy does," Jean offered, sitting on the bed and
drying her hair. With her arms up, the tops of her breasts
were pulled out of the towel a tantalizing bit. I watched,
fascinated, wondering what the hell kept the towel up
anyway?
Margi looked at me as if to ask again, really?
"Sure he does. Most guys do, don't they Billy?"
Jean was dragging me into this loaded conversation,
like it or not.
"I can't talk for 'most guys,' but it's true. There's
something powerfully attractive about the feminine odor.
More than attractive, it's exciting. Maybe I'm a perv. I
don't give a shit. I love it." I finished that declaration
in a rush.
"I don't know...I mean, I was always so embarrassed..."
Margi started.
"Yeah, me too," Jean piped in, "but my stud muffin
brother here gave me a different view of it."
I was watching the towel slip by millimeters, hopefully
waiting and not certain whether to be proud or embarrassed
by Jean's disclosure.
"*That's* what we were talkin' about," Margi jumped in,
"I never knew anybody like you two...I mean...brother and
sister... and so close. You know?"
"Let me ask *you* something, Margi?"
Margi looked up at Jean and nodded. I thought I could
see Jean's areola peeking from the top of the bath towel.
"Do you think Billy's a sexy hunk?"
Christ, I wished they'd stop talking about me in the
third person . . . like I wasn't even there!
Margi slid a glance in my direction and then idly
wrapping Jean panties around her finger, blushed and nodded.
"Well, so do I," Jean declared. "Because he's my
brother doesn't change that." She hitched the towel up an
inch or so and continued, "He's also my best friend. I'd
trust him with my life and I think he feels the same way.
There's nothing...well, almost nothing... that I can't talk
with him about. We share are feelings, Margi... our deepest
feelings and I know he'll never judge me. We LIKE each
other. Does that make sense to you?"
Margi was looking unfocused at the window, seeming to
contemplate her thoughts. "Yeah...it makes sense...it's
just that..."
"Just what, Margi?"
"Well, I don't know...I mean, I never had a connection
with anyone like that. Someone I could trust, I mean.
Someone who wouldn't take advantage of me, I guess."
"We *are* lucky, aren't we, Billy?"
More at ease now, I could smile and say, "A professor
of mine often says, 'It's better to be lucky than good.'"
Jean rubbed her hair vigorously and the towel dropped
into her lap, her full breasts bouncing, the nipples erect.
Margi gasped. I stared.
Jean looked down, laughed and said, "Oh screw it."
It was silent for a few moments as we all were acutely
aware of this fork in the road. Jean had upped the ante.
Now it was in our laps.
I ran with it. "Don't you think Jean has beautiful
tits, Margi?"
Margi appeared to be reeling from one emotional blow to
another, stunned, not knowing whether to run or stay. She
asked Jean, "Doesn't that bother you? Billy looking, I
mean?"
"It woulda a couple of years ago," she answered,
mimicking Margi's pronunciation a little, "but now it
doesn't. In fact, I like it!"
"But it seems so...so sexual, don't you think?"
"I hope so!" Jean replied with a chuckle. "That's some
of the fun of it. Oh, there's a real comfort in not being
tied up in false modesty, but above that, there's a sweet
charge that we admire each other."
"It sounds like...I mean, I've always been so shocked
at the idea of..."
"Incest?" Jean asked, cutting to the chase.
Margi again looked at the floor and made a ball of
Jean's panties. "I wasn't going to call it that," she
protested, "but SOMEthing like that I guess."
"Would it make you feel any better if I told you that
Billy and I don't fuck?"
Jean almost never used the "F" word with me. I was
startled to hear it come out so easily.
Margi became beet red and sputtered in her confusion,
"I didn't think...I mean..."
"Bullshit!" Jean said with a large smile. "You see
Billy and I sharing a room, me half-naked in front of him,
admitting that he turns me on...you you're telling me you
didn't think...?"
It was getting too warm for me, despite the fact that
we were talking about my favorite subject, me. I fell back
on what I did so well. I ran. "You girls can continue this
chat. I'm going to take a shower." They hardly looked up.
Retreating into the bathroom, I stripped, and copying
Jean's actions, I threw my shorts and briefs out the door as
if to say, "Here's MY underpants, girls." Brave, huh?
I strained to hear what they might be saying, but their
voices were reduced to a muted murmur, so I gave up and
jumped into the shower. Starting out hot and then finishing
up with a cold shower, I felt physically renewed. As often
happened, I'd sprouted a woody in the shower, perhaps
because I so religiously washed it. So, drying off I took
my time, waiting for the boner to subside.
In the periphery of my vision, I saw motion out the
bathroom doorway. Looking that way, I saw that a dresser
mirror gave me a view into the room and the movement I'd
noted was Jean and Margi. Jean was holding up a bikini top,
apparently offering it to our guest. She'd lost the towel
and was wearing only a pair of panties, while Margi was
still wearing her shorts and a T-shirt.
I froze, aware that I'd walked into a scene. I
couldn't hear all the words, just a few here and there.
Margi, who's back was to the mirror, was facing away from me
while Jean offered a frontal view. Margi was shaking her
head and Jean said something like, ". . . he's in the
bathroom." She pushed the bikini top to Margi again who
apparently needed just that much coaxing, for she said
something and then pulled her T-shirt off. I was right. No
bra. I could see her bare back and the side of one breast
as she accepted the top from Jean.
As Margi was looking down, adjusting the front of the
bathing suit top, I glanced at Jean and found her looking
right into my eyes! She knew! Before I could move, she
looked back and Margi and made some minute adjustment and
then picked up the bottom of the suit and said, "Here, try
this."
Margi glanced at the bathroom door. Had she looked in
the mirror, she'd have seen me, but she didn't. I turned on
the faucet in the sink and began making noises as if I were
occupied, still watching the scene unfold in the mirror.
Again, making up her mind, Margi quickly skinned out of
her shorts and panties and for a moment, I saw her bare ass.
That might be her best feature, I thought. It was like
Jean's. She had a narrow waist and jutting buttocks that
were made more striking for their whiteness atop her tanned
thighs. As she stepped into the bikini bottom, I had a too
brief view of her pussy through her legs. Her lips appeared
to be shaven and they were wonderfully prominent as she bent
over.
I looked again at Jean who surreptitiously motioned to
me to come out. Jean appeared to have a plan and was in
control. I didn't ponder the decision. Instead, I wrapped
a towel around my waist and stepped into the room. "Nice!"
I commented, staring at Margi.
They both faced me as one and Jean asked, "So, what do
you think, Billy? How's Margi look in something more
glamorous?" As she said this, Jean pulled the bikini
bottoms from the back as if to 'adjust' them but what it
really served was to pull them into Margi's crotch all the
snugger.
Pointedly staring at the outline of her feminine slit,
I leered and said, "Glamorous indeed."
To my surprise, Margi didn't protest Jean's blatant
actions. Instead, she pointed at my crotch and said, "No one
had to pull your towel tight, did they?"
In the excitement of the moment, I'd forgotten my
woody. I didn't have to look down to know it was making a
prominent and unmistakable tent in the towel. At this
point, I didn't care. Actually, I was feeling a bit proud
of myself and said something like, "Well, it's you guys'
fault!"
Jean, clearly the instigator in this play, kept things
alive by pulling the string tie of Margi's top with one hand
and snatching it off her body with the other, completely
baring her pert tits. "There! Now we're even." Jean
laughed and threw the bikini top to me.
Margi tried to cover her breasts for a moment and then
gave up in laughter. I was mesmerized by the two sets of
tits in front of me. Jean's were larger and mostly tanned
while Margi's were a bit smaller but with larger nipples and
paradoxically, very white. It was clear that her tits and
her ass didn't see the sun very often.
"Truth or dare time," Jean announced.
"God, what else'we got to lose," asked Margi.
"Nothing much, 'cept our psychological defenses," I
suggested.
"Whadya mean, psychological...? Margi asked sitting on
the floor, legs crossed Indian style. I liked how it pulled
the crotch of her suit into her pussy.
"It's like this," Jean explained, "do you mind so much
right now that Billy can see your nipples?"
Margi glanced down at her turgid, erect nips and said,
"Well... not so much right now. I mean, YOU uncovered
me...and 'sides, your tits are showing too."
"That's just what I mean. You have a psychological
defense or even a justification for showing us your tits.
My being bare makes it all right and more, since I uncovered
you, it's not your fault."
Margi nodded. I could see where this was going and sat
down to watch with interest, mindful of the fact that the
towel was not covering much.
Jean sat, also Indian style. Her dark pubic hair was
clearly evident through the thin crotch of her panties.
"So, the end result is that we...Billy, actually...gets to
see your nipples. But . . ." then she paused for dramatic
effect, "what if..." another pause, "what if I said to you,
say as you were wearing a blouse or a T-shirt . . . what if
I said to you, 'Margi, pull up your shirt and show Billy
your tits.'? Then how'd you feel?"
"Oh...that'd be different. I couldn't do that."
"Sure you could, and you'd love it. That's the
psychological part. It adds an edge. It makes it more
exciting. Guys just know this, huh, Billy? Guys just know
that the partially nude woman is far more exciting than the
completely nude one, huh?" She addressed the last part at
me, seeking confirmation.
I replied, "Sure. Why do you think Jean's just wearing
panties? She coulda put on shorts, even a shirt if she
wanted. She knows how sexy casual undress can be. More,
it's the tease. The psychological game adds to the tease,
which, of course, adds a delicious edge to anything sexual."
Turning it back to Jean, I added, "Aren't I right?"
"Of course you're right, you horny lech," she laughed
and reached over to flip up a corner of my towel, exposing
part of my scrotum. "And if he wasn't sporting such a
boner, you'd be able to see it too."
"You said something about Truth or Dare?" I asked,
attempting to keep things rolling and turning the attention
away from me.
"Yes! This is no simple strip poker game. Heck, we
each have just one article of clothing on anyway, so getting
totally nude is no big deal, but if we do this right, we can
add several layers to the excitement by psychological Truth
or Dare."
Jean didn't ask Margi if she wanted to play, she just
continued to set out the rules. I'd seen Jean's daring and
strong side before, but never so pronounced. I was usually
the aggressive one but now I was quite content to see this
assertive side of Jean express itself.
She finished, "So you see, it's nothing more than a
form of spin-the- bottle."
"Can I watch someone else go first?" asked Margi, a
little skeptically.
"Okay, I'll go first," I offered. I'm so magnanimous
at times. I spun the bottle and it ended up pointing at me.
"Nothing there," I said as I spun it again. This time it
ended up between Margi and Jean, but closer to Jean. "It's
you, kid. Truth or Dare?"
"Oh goody," cried Jean. "I want a dare!"
"How'd I know you'd say that?" I smiled at Margi.
"She's such an exhibitionist!"
"Come on, come on, big boy...what's your dare?"
"Okay, smart ass. As I recall, you trimmed your pussy
before coming down here, right?"
Jean gave me a wolfish grin and nodded eagerly.
"Then, your dare, should you choose to accept it, is to
pull the crotch of your panties aside and show us!"
I knew Jean would milk this one. She'd do it. Hell,
she *wanted* to do it, but more, she wanted to make a
production of it. She wanted to add some psychological
tension to it. I'd counted on that.
"Billy!" she exclaimed in mock indignation, "My breasts
are one thing. Even my panties. But you want me to uncover
my...my sex and SHOW myself to you and Margi?"
I nodded gravely. "If you dare,"
"But...but that's private! I mean, that's so intimate,
looking right at my..." and then she added in a very small
voice, "my pussy."
Margi's eyes were bouncing back and forth between me
and Jean, first my eyes, then her crotch. She squirmed a
bit.
"Would you tell anybody?" Jean asked.
"Not me," I answered in my best sincere voice. "But
Margi, she might. How about it, would you, Margi?"
Margi looked at us with wide, round eyes and slowly
shook her head, "Not me neither," she intoned.
"There, see, you're safe with us. Now show us, wimp!"
Jean looked dubious as her hand fell to her lap.
Curling a finger into the crotch of her panties, she paused.
Jean was giving me an opportunity to crank up the current, I
knew.
Pointing, I said, "Say, Jean. Is the crotch of your
panties wet? You pee or somethin'?"
She flushed. Perhaps she hadn't wanted me to turn up
the intimacy current so high after all. But her finger
stayed there, pulling the material a few millimeters, enough
to see the outside of one lip. Margi stared, hypnotized.
Jean turned to Margi and explained, "He's up to his old
tricks again. He'd embarrassed me with that one before.
You'd think I'd get used to it, wouldn't you?"
I went for another notch on the intimacy rheostat. "Is
that you I smell, Jean?"
"See what I mean?" Jean said to Margi, who looked like
she was ready to fall through the floor.
Turning to me, she announced, "Yes, they are wet and
I'll let you figure out with what. And for all you know,
that's Margi you're smelling."
At that point, Margi reddened again and cupped her
crotch as if she might stem the flow of odoriferous
pheromones.
I sensed that Jean had taken this as far as it would go
on our first Truth or Dare.
"Okay," she said, "this goes against my better
judgment, but here's my trim job!" With that, she pulled
the crotch of her panties well to the side, exposing all.
No cheap flash here. I admired her bare pussy lips slightly
parted by her position as well as the lush dark curls atop
her mons for the full twenty or thirty seconds she gave us.
Shaking my head in admiration, I passed the bottle to
Jean who let her panties snap back into her crotch. She
held the bottle in her lap, stroking the neck idly as she
grinned as us.
Nodding to Jean's masturbation of the bottleneck, I
said to Margi, "She always had a serious case of penis
envy."
"You're darn right!" Jean agreed. "I always wanted to
be able to write my name in the snow." Then she turned to
Margi, holding the neck of the bottle in her fist and
pointing it at her, she asked, "You ever write *your* name
in the snow?"
Margi surprised both of us by saying, "Yeah, several
times," and then she laughed, "but I could never dot the i."
"See!" Jean said to me.
See what, I wondered? Yet, I liked the image of Margi
trying to pee her name in the snow. I wondered if there
were some way I could work that into Truth or Dare...even
without the snow? Keep 'em off balance, Jean had once
advised me.
"Now *I* get to spin the bottle." She emphasized the
"I" part, as if that had special portent.
I knew she'd somehow manage to skip Margi and that I'd
be the next 'volunteer.' Sure enough, when the bottle
looked like it was going to stop near Margi, Jean grabbed it
and said, "And that was one of my allowed practice spins."
Practice spins? I never knew anyone who could make up
Truth or Dare rules faster than Jean.
The next spin pointed at her and the third spin pointed
roughly in my sector.
"Another practice spin?" I asked, already knowing the
answer.
"Nope, big boy. That was for real. You're IT! Truth
or Dare?"
I already knew that no matter what I picked, it'd be
embarrassing. So I'd leave it up to fate, in this case, the
second hand of my watch. I'd occasionally employed this
scientific technique when I'd narrowed a multiple choice
down to two equally attractive answers. The second hand
between twelve and six was Truth and between six and twelve
was Dare. The random chance of my watch's second hand
decided my fate. "Truth," I declared with far more
confidence than I felt.
Jean commented to Margi, "I know most of Billy's
secrets already, so I need to ask a question in an area he
and I haven't explored before."
That's all she needed to say. I could see it coming.
The 'new' element here was Margi. The bottle hadn't pointed
at her, yet she'd be pulled into Jean's web, I just knew it.
Trying to fend it off, I attempted a first strike.
"She's gonna ask me something embarrassing about you,
Margi."
Syrupy sweet, Jean agreed, "Of course I am. We all
know that."
I wasn't sure Margi knew, but I sure as hell did.
Turning to our hapless guest, Jean started, "Can you
imagine, Margi?" and then she pointedly looked me up and
down, "that this overgrown kid, this lunk, once told me he'd
like to put his nose in my CROTCH! Is that sick or what?"
By this time, Margi was getting the picture. She could
see Jean's flair for the dramatic, for overstatement, for
hyperbole. She glanced at me through lowered eyelashes and
smiled. Probably a smile of sympathy.
Her voice raising, Jean went on, "I mean, my own
BROTHER! In my *crotch*!"
I looked at that crotch. Now it was definitely wet. I
checked Margi's and I think it was as well, but the color of
the bikini bottom made it difficult to say with certainty.
So, Jean's gambit had something to do with me and Margi's
crotch. I mean, how many possibilities can you come up
with?
"So, here's my Truth question, Billy! Ready?"
As if my readiness made any difference. I rubbed my
eyes with my fingers and nodded. Hell, it was like asking
the man on the gallows if he was ready. Everyone knew what
was going to happen.
Being sure to include Margi in this, she asked, "And
you Margi . . . you ready?"
Margi was still holding her crotch, I imagined more to
keep my nose out than her scent in. She nodded dumbly. Her
areolae were puckered and pebbled. So were Jean's.
"Now Billy, I know you had the hots for Margi last
year. You told me so, remember?"
Grasping at straws, I asked, "Is *that* my Truth
question?"
"Hell no! We're just setting the stage here and if you
don't admit it, I'll tell her right now everything you told
me last year!"
I couldn't remember the details of what I'd said last
year and afraid I might have been more lurid than I'd be
comfortable admitting, I caved in, just as Jean knew I
would. "Yes, that's true."
"What's true?" Jean goaded me.
"That I had the...uh...'hots' for Margi last year," I
mumbled.
"You hear that, Margi?"
I heard a breathy yes in reply. Jean knew darn well
that Margi had heard me.
"So tell me, brother dear...and this is just a
hypothetical question you understand...IF I'd asked you last
year if you wanted to put your nose in *Margi's* crotch...if
I'd asked you that, what would you have replied?"
My mind raced for an out here, partly for the fun of
it, and partly because I was getting increasingly excited
and increasingly sheepish.
"Nothing hypothetical about that question," I began.
Jean, in her best debating style, cut me off and said,
"Answer the question please."
"Yes, you know I would. I even said that last year."
Actually, I don't think I ever said that, but what the
hell...
Embellishing the lie, Jean picked up on it and said,
"Yes, I remember that well. You went on for the longest
time how you'd like to sniff in her crotch and that you'd
give anything to kiss her there." Turning to Margi, she
added, "My brother's such a horn dog. You'd better be
careful of him, I tell you!"
Before Margi could reply, Jean picked it up again. "So
tell me, Billy. Now that you've got your poor innocent
sister down to her panties, almost defenseless and now that
you've maneuvered this guileless sweet girl here," gesturing
to Margi, "into sitting in front of you in nothing but the
skimpy bottom of my bathing suit...are you going to tell us
that you've reformed? That you're no longer interested in
our...our girl places? Do you expect us to believe that for
a minute?"
"Of course I do," I remonstrated. "I mean, think about
it. A guy as pure as me...as pure as the new-driven
snow...a guy who helps little old ladies across the street
and gives quarters to panhandlers . . . surely you can't
believe that I entertain any thoughts other than chaste
ones!"
Jean leaned over and ripped my towel aside, baring my
hard-on. It was almost quivering, so chaste were my
thoughts.
"Now *there's* purity," Jean announced, pointing at my
woody.
I hung my head, still looking at Margi's crotch through
my lashes.
Adjusting the crotch of her own panties, Jean said, "So
there! Now we're ready for my question. You ready?"
"No," I answered truthfully.
"Good," she replied. "Here's the question..." and she
paused.
"You ever see a Truth or Dare game last so long on one
spin of the bottle?" I asked no one in particular. Margi
shook her head.
As if I hadn't interrupted her, Jean continued, "...and
the question is: Do you wanna go down on Margi tonight?"
Even though I saw it coming a long time ago, even
though I had time to put on my emotional armor, it still
struck with freight-train impact. Here's this girl we knew
from last year, a girl we'd been diving with one day this
trip, and we're near nude, sitting in a circle, me with an
erection pointing to the ceiling and we're talking about my
going down on her! This wasn't going the way I imagined it
al all. I was much better!
"Before I answer that - and I will - I'd like to ask
Margi a few questions." I knew Jean wouldn't object to this
deviation of whatever loose set of rules pretended to govern
this game.
"Of course. You have that right." Jean pronounced with
authority.
Cripes, the only "rights" we had were those we made up,
I thought.
"Before I answer, there's a couple of things I'd like
to know... so I can frame my answer better you understand."
"I understand," Jean said solemnly, again adjusting her
panty crotch, flashing us in the process.
"Well, for starters, before I can speak to uh...'going
down' on Margi..." I paused and she flushed, adjusting her
own crotch, "I need to know, uh, Margi...have you had
someone go down on you?" I left it sexless on purpose. I'm
not sure why.
Margi looked at Jean as if to ask, do I have to answer?
Jean nodded and made a get-on-with-it motion with her hands.
Margi looked at me a moment and then looked down,
nodding her head.
"Is that a 'yes'?" I asked.
She nodded again.
"Margi, I can't hear you," I protested.
"Yes!" she whispered, almost in a hiss.
Pushing it, I asked, "Many times?"
"Yes!" Louder.
"And now, most important, Margi, did you LIKE it?"
She pulled her legs up and leaned on her knees, her
breasts smashed against her thighs. She opened her mouth as
if to speak, but nothing came out.
"Margi, I need to know. My answer depends on what you
say. Did you LIKE it?"
She mumbled something. I couldn't make it out. "I
couldn't hear that, Margi."
She looked up and almost shouted, "I LOVED IT!"
The tension in the room was thick. I looked at Jean
and she gave me a thumbs up sign. Margi wasn't looking at
anything, except perhaps that same spot on the floor. I
wonder if she had it memorized?
"Now I'm ready to answer your question, Jean. But just
in case I've disremembered it, would you ask it again?"
"I'll be glad to. Do you remember what I asked,
Margi?"
Head down, she nodded vigorously.
"Good. Then I think it'd have more erotic impact if
you told Billy what my question was. Why don't you do that,
girl?"
Still speaking to the carpet, Margi said, "You asked
him if he wanted to uh...go down on me."
"Tonight," Jean prompted.
"Uh...tonight," Margi added.
"Is that a question or a proposal?" I asked.
Jean smiled. No one said anything for a moment.
"Margi?" I prompted.
Turning to Jean, Margi asked, "Do I hafta?"
"Margi, Margi. You don't 'hafta' do anything. This is
a game. We can say or do anything we want." She paused and
then added, "Just as long as its consensual and safe."
"Margi, it's okay to say no." I said, "Remember, it's
just a fun game and we're all playing together. No one's
the victim here."
"Proposal," Margi mumbled. And then without prodding,
she said in a louder voice, "It's a proposal!"
"That Billy go down on you tonight?" Jean asked.
"Oh shit!" Margi cried, "I don't know what you guys're
gonna think of me, but I'm so on edge, I'm so damn horny I'm
about ready to bust. I really DO want Billy to go down on
me. Like now."
"And you, Billy?" Jean asked. "You still haven't
answered my question or even Margi's question. Do YOU wanna
bury your head between her thighs? Do you want to tongue
her pussy, Billy?"
By way of answering, I stood and pulled Margi to her
feet, turning her back to Jean and held her by her
shoulders. I pointed to Margi's swimsuit bottom and without
further prompting, Jean reached up and pulled them off her
hips, letting the bikini puddle about her ankles.
Margi looked a question at me and I nodded. She
stepped out of them and now stood before me, totally nude.
I held her by the shoulders at arm's length and looked her
up and down. Her dark-haired bush stood out in marked
contrast to her white belly. A thin line of hair pointed to
her belly button.
Glancing down, I saw Jean pick up the swimsuit bottom
and hold it to her nose. "Ripe," she declared and threw
them up at me.
I pulled them to my face as Margi squirmed before me.
"Yes, quite ripe," I agreed. "Now I know who I was smelling
a little while ago."
Margi flushed again.
"Do you want me to leave?" Jean asked.
If she really wanted to leave, she wouldn't have asked.
I knew that. But more, I *wanted* her to say. She was a
part of this seduction and I wanted her to stay with me, to
stay with us.
"No, don't leave," I asked. "After all, we've just
spun the bottle twice."
