As the sextet sat down for supper that evening, the atmosphere in the room could be cut with a scalpel. Leaning over his food, Matthew could feel several pairs of eyes boring into him like lasers. Glancing up, others at the table tried to avoid his gaze completely. In the space of two days, his arrival had turned the family of nubile women and their libidinous mother into a lustful harem. No one, not even young Amy, wistfully counting down the hours to her eighteenth birthday, had been unaffected by her brother's presence.
For Matthew it was a dream-come-true after twenty years on a tight leash, made better by the fact that they thrived upon it as much as he did, if not more. And the more time that elapsed, the more wanton became their desires seemed to become, their limits and his pushed further and further. What had happened that afternoon in Jo's bedroom would surely remain with him to the grave.
The meal gobbled down to save further disquiet, Matthew excused himself from the table, hurrying into the welcome air of the garden. Yet before he'd even stepped off the patio Meg, Beth and Amy surrounded like a pack of paparazzi to a Hollywood star. "Is it true, Matthew?" queried Meg, the eldest sister.
"It can't be," added Beth breathlessly, her frizzy brown hair dancing in the breeze.
Matthew raised his hands in protest, as much in embarrassment as anything.
"What?" appealed Amy, having heard the rumour but kept frustratingly in the dark by the others who deemed her the baby.
"Amy, butt out," warned Meg, exercising her seniority. "This isn't for little girls' ears."
"I'm not a little girl," Amy appealed.
Yet the bookish glasses, blonde ringlets and slight body did little to dispel the myth. "Yes you are," replied Beth.
"No I'm not. Oh I hate you," Amy cried, rectangular glasses steaming up, light curls animated.
Despite her youth, Matthew couldn't help but think how sexy she looked when pouting and angry.
"Amy, I won't tell you again," Meg warned, wagging her finger and losing patience both with Amy's persistence and Matthew's stubbornness.
As they reached the end of the garden, with Amy still in tow, Meg snapped. "Amy, get back to the house now or I swear all your birthday presents are going on eBay."
Amy stomped her foot and created but, with the threat carrying so much gravity, grudgingly she did as she was told. "Tomorrow," she stated with authority.
"Tomorrow," Matthew concurred in a whisper, adding a consolatory smile.
Amy smiled back, her ocean blue eyes radiant, her adolescent body oozing frustration.
Climbing over the wall, Matthew tried in vain to shake off his two fervent pursuers. "So, is it true?" pleaded Beth. "God, I wish I hadn't gone to Alice's."
"And I wish I hadn't stayed late at work," complained Meg.
Matthew smiled. The girls, it seemed, were more jealous than upset. Well, he had tried his hardest to treat them all equally since his arrival, so there really could be no complaints. Hopping across the log, he teased: "If you want to know any more you're going to have to catch me first."
With that he tore off into the woods, the two sisters in hot pursuit. The chase took them down a labyrinth of forest paths and the familiar hidden dirt track to the lido where the previous day the adventure had begun. This was where Matthew and Beth had first become acquainted whilst spying on the courting couple. A lot of water under the bridge since then, it was impossible to predict what might happen next.
Drained from an afternoon of incredible and mind blowing sex, Matthew pulled up at the water's edge, offering no further resistance. "You two never give up," he observed through staccato breaths, crouching to remove his socks and trainers and sitting to dangle his lower legs and aching feet in the soothing water.
The girls took up a position either side, copying their brother, feet dangling. Matthew looked out across the surface of the pool like a giant silver platter, mind busily replaying the afternoon's events. Just thinking about it again made him hard, the power of male erectile regeneration a most wonderful thing. All three gazed down in unison at the bulge that threatened to erupt through the front of the khaki shorts, Beth licking her lips furtively. "Tell us Matthew," prompted Meg, her frustration reaching boiling point.
Matthew grinned inwardly, knowing just how to handle the situation to elicit the maximum tease effect. It was left to Beth to try to clinch the deal with the offer: "Please Matthew, tell us what happened and we'll do anything you say."
That and the big brown Bambi eyes and fluttered eyelashes Beth saved for occasions like this had the desired effect though still Matthew teased. "I thought you lot told each other everything," he observed.
"I think Jo was still a little dumbstruck," said Meg with a giggle. "What the blooming heck did you do to her, Matthew?"
Matthew laughed. Growing in confidence and other places, he stated: "You said you'd do anything I asked?"
He didn't need to say another word. Such a strong telepathic connection had already sprung up that words were very nearly rendered redundant. The mere inference was sufficient for Meg to reach aside to pop the shorts button from its hole and Beth to work the zip down. Between them their slender fingers prised the hardening cock from the fly of the boxers, the warm air brushing the throbbing red tip, causing Matthew to grimace. Meg was quick to pick up on the point. "Hmm, poor thing looks a little sore."
"Now I wonder why that is?" Beth mused with a devilish grin.
"The dirty boy's been using it too much," added Meg, reaching over to give it a squeeze on the tip that made Matthew yelp.
"Aww, did that hurt?" asked Beth, a version of good cop / bad cop routine arising in the two sisters. "What do think we should do to get Matthew to confess, Meg?"
