Truth or Dare

We're on the beach.

We're sharing a towel. The wind breathes gritty wind over our bare arms and legs, and the sun above pulses in a warmth the brings forth a sheen of sweat.

And we're both naked.

"I can't believe we're finally doing this," I say, cuddling my body closer to his. There's an umbrella above us, speared into the sand and tilted at an appropriate angle. Our legs stick out from its shade, and I watch as Dion pushes his feet into the sand, grains spreading outward as he buries them.

He's not wearing sunscreen. He doesn't often, since unlike me he hardly ever burns. His skin glistens in the light, and I move my gaze upwards, along his long legs. To his knees, then his thighs... and finally his cock.

He's shaved, just like me, and the bare skin makes it look imposingly large. It's soft, flopped back and pointing to his navel, and I reach over to cover it with my hand. Even like this, a significant portion of it sticks out the top of my hand.

...

Wait, no, that would be too big. I don't want it to hurt.

It's a bit smaller than that now. It feels nice in my grasp, and as I slowly squeeze I can feel it begin to harden. I move my body closer into him again, turning so that my breasts press into his side. He puts an arm around me.

Stop it, this is wrong.

"I love you," I whisper, and squeeze him again.

You don't love him. You're just horny.

He says he loves me too. He murmurs my name, again and again, as the gentle breeze knocks around us.

...

Wait, knocks?

"Ashley, come on, it's nearly nine."

My eyes snap open. The ceiling above is blurry, and as I wait for my eyes to adjust and my brain to start working, Dion knocks on my door again.

"I know you're awake. You never sleep in this long." I hear the door open and Dion stride inside. "Come on, stop pretending and--"

My brain finally kicks into gear and I tilt my head to see him reaching for the covers. Nothing unusual about that, flinging blankets off is our usual way of waking each other up, except...

"Dion! No, don't--"

The sheets fly off and my completely naked body is revealed to my brother in its entirety. I've got one hand on my tummy and the other at my pussy, two fingers half inside me. The mattress cover below is damp with my juices.

Dion's eyes widen. His gaze darts up to my face, then down to my torso, then up again before he catches himself and whirls around.

"Uh... I didn't... I didn't realise you were... busy."

I reach for the sheet and haphazardly pull it over myself, covering the essentials. For a reason I cannot fathom, I blurt; "I wasn't thinking of you."

"Yeah, I... figured. I'm really sorry. I didn't see anything."

"Yes you did."

"...Yes I did. But... but hey, your shaving turned out... really well, so there's that. Uh..." He clears his throat, then shuffles on the spot. He's still got his back to me. "Dad was just about to leave, I thought we could wish him luck. Do you want to... do you want me to see him off myself?"

"No, hang on, I'll just be a sec." I stand up, holding the sheet in front of me. Dion moves to the side, half-turns to look at me. I notice his eyes dart down again, then back to my face. I give him a small smile. "I'll just get dressed."

"Yes, probably a good idea."

A moment passes. Then I add, "Are you hoping to watch, or...?"

"Oh, shit, no, of course not. I'll just tell him to hang on a sec." He struts awkwardly to the door, then pauses again. He glances at the bed, then the floor. "I'll get you some new sheets from the cupboard too." And then he leaves.

I look back at the bed. There's a large wet patch, right beneath where I was touching myself. I lean back against the wall and close my eyes.

I don't know what's worse. That my brother just caught my masturbating, or that I didn't actually managed an orgasm. I've been so pent up the last couple of days that I really just need a good climax, and yet at every turn he's there. In my fantasies making me feel guilty, or in reality making me feel mortified. I want to hate him for it, but I can't. It's not his fault I'm a perv.

Dad's excited about his date. His grin is infectious as we see him off, and I'm in a much better mood by the time I'm eating breakfast. Dion's doing the washing--bedsheets included--so I have a few minutes to sort out my thoughts before he returns.

"Did you still want to go out?" He asks.

It takes me a moment to realise what he's talking about. He'd offered to take me shopping yesterday.

While rubbing cream on your pussy. Sicko.

"Yes, please. I'd like that."

He nods, aloof. "Alright. We'll leave in a few? Get you a nice notebook, me a new pair of boardshorts."

I snap my head up.

Boardshorts? What's he want new bathers for? He pledged never to venture onto the beach.

"Don't tell me you're going swimming..."

He shrugs. "You'd never let me hear the end of it if I don't go at least once. And I tried my current ones on his morning and they're a little tight. So... come on, don't look so pleased with yourself. I'm not just doing this for you."

I'm beaming unashamedly. "We're going swimming! Aw, you're the best brother ever."

"Yeah, well, remember that next time dad needs someone to drive the tractor in for repairs. Now hurry up and finish your breakfast, I don't want to be out too long."

It's as hot as ever out on the foreshore. We're walking along a neat promenade, something of a bridge between the chalets and the coastal city proper. I'm walking along the low concrete wall at the edge, arms out, while Dion's opted for the boring route of the footpath.

It's lively out here as people go about their beachy business, passing us in a constant tide of activity. Something about being here with Dion, without dad, feels exciting. Nobody knows who we are. We could be siblings, sure... but we could also just be cousins, or friends, or... even boyfriend and girlfriend.

God you're naïve. That'll never happen. And not just because it's illegal. He doesn't even--

"So!" I say, to shut up my inner monologue. Dion looks up at me, head cocked, and I can see my reflection in his aviator sunglasses. My brown hair is a little frizzy under the sun, and I realise I'm currently chewing on a strand of it again. I spit out and say; "So, you and Blake. How did that whole thing happen?"

I watch him glance around at the people passing by, then move a little closer to where I'm walking. "Nothing much to tell. He told me he thought he might be gay, we chatted about it, we watched some... uh... videos. And tried some stuff out."

I run my tongue over my teeth. Not quite as sexy as I'd imagined it last night--especially since it didn't involve me in between them, getting up up-close view before they both turned their attention to me; nor did it involve copious amounts of whipped cream and a bed of rose petals--but cute none the less. "So Blake is...?"

"One hundred percent gay. Sorry, I know you had a crush on him."

I shrug. "When I was younger, maybe. My crushes have... shifted slightly since then."

"Oh? Do tell." He's not looking at me when he says that, just watching the path ahead instead. "Is it someone I know?"

I run my tongue over my teeth again. "That sounds like a truth to me. And that's not a game for out here." I jump off the wall and land next to him, then point at the façade of a little promenade store. "Gift shop. They'll do notebooks."

Dion shakes his head. "That's a tourist place."

"Yeah. Because we're... tourists, right?"

He keeps walking, and I have to jog a bit to catch him. His legs are longer than mine.

"What about a supermarket then? I saw one a ways back there."

"I've got a place in mind. Found it in that guidebook of yours."

I'd been wondering where that went. Still, it's nice to know that he spent time this morning scoping out a place for us.

Talking of this morning... "Dion?"

"Yeah?"

I wait until we turn into a quieter alley between a fish and chip shop and a surfboard place. "About what happened... how you found me. I wasn't... it didn't have anything to do with what we were doing last night." His slightly off expression worries me, so I continue. "Like it was completely unrelated to that, obviously. Just in case you were getting any funny ideas about what I... about anything we..." I trail off.

Dion's slowed down slightly. His dark hair waves a bit in the coastal breeze currently whooshing through the alley. "Ideas about what?"

I press my lips together, trying to read his tone. He sounds almost... frustrated?

Probably because you keep pushing the subject.

"This whole truth or dare thing," I say. "It's just a bit of fun, right? No sexual stuff, or--" I lower my voice as a couple we're passing gives us an odd look. "Or anything weird like that. Just normal... stuff." I'm lying through my teeth right now, and I know it. "Right?" I add again, slightly worried I'm starting to sound desperate.

"Right." Is all he says.

"Right." I say.

We walk for a few more seconds, and then he suddenly stops. I turn around, wondering if he's about to make a big speech, but instead I see him disappearing into a dark little store I'd never have noticed otherwise. A little wooden plate above the door reads Mooly Boodja --

The scent of the country.

I follow him in, intrigued.

The first thing that hits me is, unsurprisingly, the aroma of the place. It's heavy, thick, yet somehow not overwhelming. An underlying note of leather carries forth the smell of wood, smoke, and nature. It changes around me as I follow Dion further into the store, as if every corner has its own curated scent.

He doesn't say a word as we sidle through cramped walkways and past pregnant shelves, but his strange mood seems to dissipate by the time we reach the counter.

"Kaya! How can I help you nobaratj?" The large man behind the counter smiles down at us from a shock of wiry white hair. He sports quite the impressive beard, and I can't help but be somewhat entranced by the way it moves when he talks.

Dion returns the greeting and tells the man he rang earlier, and then something else I don't quite catch. He's always been much better at the language than me. I watch the man's eyes light up, and then he reaches behind the counter and retrieves a folded paper bag. He places it carefully down on the table, then rests his chin on his hand and peers at me.

"Nidja bal manga? Koobidak baal yin."

This is your girlfriend? She's very--

I don't know what koobidak means. Hopefully 'pretty'.

I blush, and the man seems surprised I understood at least some of it. Dion waves his hands. "Not manga, djook."

Sister.

The man seems even more surprised now. "I'm sorry, odja, I thought you said on the phone--"

"It's fine. Must have been bad line. Um... forty, right?" He plucks a fifty out of his pocket and slides it on the table. "Keep the change. Noonook boorda." And he escorts me out of there before I can even say goodbye.

We're standing outside the shop now, Dion looking a little perturbed and me clutching the paper bag against my chest. I feel a bit sorry for him. It feels like he'd had something else planned. Instead, I muse;

"Expensive notebook. This...

is

a notebook, right? I'm not going to open it and find 'incense' or anything?"

"It's a notebook. For uni, like we talked about."

I unfold the top of the bag and pull out a thick book. It's heavy, dense, leather-bound. Very well-made, and the paper is only lined on one side, just how I like it. I catch Dion peering at me as if he's waiting for something, and then a smell catches my nose and I gasp. I close my eyes, inhale deeply.

Warm, round, earthy but with a tinge of spice. It's not strong--about as potent as the leather itself--but I'd recognise it anywhere. Koolah, wild plum. There's a lot of them back home, and we often pick them to eat. It's my favourite plant.

"You like it?"

"I love it!" I smell the cover again. "How the heck do they do that?"

"They smoke it with... wait, no, they burn the leaves in... I can't remember. You just tell 'em a native plant and they'll do anything with it. Forty is pretty cheap, really. Only took them a day."

"This is awesome. Really, really awesome. You're the best brother ever." I pull him into a tight hug, squeezing myself against him as hard as I can, as if the tighter I embrace him the more he'll feel my gratitude. I can feel him tense up at first, but then he relaxes into me, and it's a wonderful sensation.

We stand there for a good while, enjoying each other's presence. I realise Dion has a smell too, one just as nice as my notebook, and in that moment I don't want to leave it."

"Time for bathers," he gruffly says.

His face is so darn cute as he looks down at me, feigning grumpiness.

Well, hopefully feigning it.

I can't help myself--I stand up on my toes and kiss him. Not on the lips, of course... but not quite on the cheek either. I pretend to lose balance slightly, push a hand against his chest and land my lips just next to the corner of his mouth. His skin is ever so slightly rough, a sign that he didn't shave this morning, and there's something comforting in that. I can feel him breathe out in surprise against my own cheek, and then shiver when I finish the kiss and pull back. His expression is unreadable.

"Alright!" I say, as if nothing happened. "Let's go!"

It's a short, quiet walk to our next stop, a destination which is far less mysterious than Mooly Boodja.

"Beach things?" I read out, looking sceptically at the store. It's right on the edge of the promenade, overlooking a stretch of populated golden beach and shimmering water. "Very descriptive."

"I don't want anything fancy," Dion says, and disappears inside.

I can't tell where we're at right now. Is he mad with me? Or is he just deep in thought? Did I cross the ling kissing him like that?

Yes, of course you did, he's your brother.

The worst part is that it's entirely possible nothing about our relationship has changed as far as he's concerned, and that I'm just reading into all this way too deeply. Usually I can tell exactly what he's thinking just by seeing his face, but right now... right now he's inscrutable.

There's a little electronic

ding dong

when we walk inside, followed by a "just a minute!" from someone hanging something up on a back wall. As Dion makes for the men's section, I glance curiously at what I can only assume is Beach Things' sales assistant.

She's a young woman, about my age or possibly a little older. Long black wavy hair tumbling over a white tank top, and I can see the curve of her breast as she holds her arms in the air, fiddling with a display. She's wearing short jeans, like mine, only... shorter. And she fills them out a lot better. I suddenly feel a bit self-conscious.

And then a

lot

more self-conscious when she turns around. She's gorgeous. Big dark eyes under strong, equally-dark eyebrows. A good nose, strong lips, and perfectly-applied makeup. I can barely manage some eyeliner when I bother with it at all, and here she is painted like a movie star. Worst of all, she's... she just looks so...

likeable.

Beaming over at my brother as she greets him, hands gesticulating all over the place.

I decide Dion probably needs my help and start heading over.

"...it's a great day for it!" she's telling him. "Actually, most days are in December. It's going to be a hot Christmas for sure!"

Jeez, listen to her. She's leaning against a rack, all casual and nice as she talks to him. He's smiling back at her. "We live further inland, so it's the first time in ages I've been to a beach like this. Looking forward to trying out the water, you know?"

Give me a break.

"I hear ya! Well, why don't we find you some good kit then? You're pretty tall... I'd say a forty-two. I could measure though?"

"He's a forty," I tell her as I sidle next to Dion. She turns her head in surprise, then stops short when she sees me. Just for a second, but it's long enough for me to watch her eyes dart up and down my body like some kind of judgemental scanner. My face grows hot as her head tilts a bit and she opens her mouth, but appears to have lost her train of thought and shuts it again. Her brain seems to resume working a moment after.

"Sorry, I didn't see... hello to you too! Here to supervise, right? Make sure he doesn't pick anything too showy. Or not showy enough, am I right?"

I shrug and mumble, "I don't care. Just something he can swim in."

"...Great! Okay, well, let me just..." She flips through a few items on a rack, and as she does I see her glance my way a few more times.

Probably wondering how you two are related. Hot brother, plain sister, right?

She passes a selection of swimming trunks to Dion, who takes them but doesn't go anywhere just yet. "Uh... do you have, like, shirts too?"

The assistant tilts her head again, then nods. "I don't know if we have rashies that'll fit you, but we have some beach shirts? Why don't you try those on and I'll get a few while you do?"

"I'd rather try them at the same time..."

"Oh, sure! Just this way."

I mutely follow them as they idly chat about whatever. She's saying something about christmas shopping, and Dion's agreeing even though we don't really celebrate it. I know I'm being dramatic, but it feels like the vague hopes (fantasies?) I'd had for this holiday are crumbling before me. Next thing I know he'll be asking her on a date or something.

"...pretty crowded at this time though. There's a quieter stretch just over near Albert's. Which is a really good seafood place."

"Sounds nice," Dion says. He's holding a larger pile of clothes now, and swivels around, peering over the racks. "Where can I try this stuff on?"

"Right out here! Nah, kidding, changing room is just over there. Come out after each one so we can give you our opinions, yeah?" She grins, and goes to nudge me amicably with her elbow but I manage to discretely shuffle out the way.

She seems to get the hint, quietens down while we both wait for him. I'm hoping someone else is going to come in and draw her attention away, but apparently everyone around here already has all the "beach things" they need because it stays as empty as when we arrived.

Dion comes out modelling a long pair of green trunks and an equally lime-coloured shirt. He looks pretty awkward as he gives us a little turn.

"Yeah! That's... I mean you won't get lost in the water," she says. "I reckon you can afford to show a bit more leg too." She turns to me. "Thoughts?"

I don't like it much either, but some part of me wants to defend him. "You look pretty good in green. Maybe just... less of it. Keep the shirt and try on the other boardies."

He nods and disappears again. The salesgirl half turns to me, tries again to strike up some sort of rapport. "I'm Sophie," she says.

"Hi Sophie," I say back, and leave it at that.

Dion returns with a pair of trunks in a less offensive hue. Dark red, coming to just above his knees. I take a moment to appreciate his legs. He doesn't exactly work out, but the farm keeps us both fit and he does look good. Especially since I only ever see him in work jeans or long pyjama pants.

"They're great!" Sophie says. "But maybe a big baggy around the legs. Try on the other one and I'll see if I can find a tighter pair."

As Dion retreats to the changing rooms, Sophie scans a different rack. But her eyes flick up over it to look at me again. "How'd you two meet?"

"Huh?"

"He said he was rural inland. You live there too right?"

"He's my brother."

She balks. "Oh! My god, sorry, that's... look at me, thinking you were dating your... um..." She dips below the clothing rack, and I hear a slightly muffled voice continue, "I think I'll just stop talking now."