Chapter 9 - Play A Song For Me

Sunday 2^nd July

Even though I don’t need to, it’s such a habit for me that I still usually get up around the same time every morning, weekends or weekdays, schooldays or holidays, and today was no exception. It was a little after seven-thirty on a Sunday morning and there I was, sat at the kitchen table as I worked my way through my breakfast cereal, the more healthy option compared to Dad’s ‘Sunday Sizzle’ that I’d decided against this week. Outside, the sun was already starting to warm up the garden and the birds were discussing how hot it would get later. I don’t know what consensus they reached, but my smartphone claimed we were in for something in the low to mid twenties, maybe more, burning up all records for our little pocket of the Principality. As tough as that would be, that heat meant we would also have to endure Dad’s reminiscences of 1976 again, of how that was the hottest summer ever. To be fair, when he’d showed us archive of the droughts and the Old Testamental plagues of ladybirds, I could see how something like that would stick in your memory. Of course, Dad was English, and they famously would call for a hosepipe ban after just two consecutive sunny days, so maybe it hadn’t been that hot after all.

For as much as ‘76 was scorched into Dad’s mind, I could see how 2017 would be forever burned in my memories, too. I’d learned more about my family than I had ever imagined, and my relationship with Stef had gone into new, uncharted, and undared for directions. What was even more surprising was the pace at which this had all happened in just the space of a week, and that it had only been last Saturday when Stef had flashed me. The best part of all of it had to be the incredible intimacy I now shared with Stef, and not just the physical side of it. There was something so deep and so right about how connected we now were that it seemed amazing it had taken us so long to get to here.

And it wasn’t over.

I don’t know how I knew this, but I did.

Just as I was certain that there was no going back to how things had been between Stef and me, I was equally convinced that whatever strange and surprising form our relationship was headed for, it wasn’t there yet, either.

I was still lost in thoughts of Stef and me when the kitchen door from the garage opened and in she came, a little dusty from her ride, a little sweaty, too, but not even breathing hard; she was fit nine ways from Sunday.

“Hey Sis, good ride?”

“Hey, Luke. You know, it was. Of course it helped that there weren’t any tractors on the road and the lost holidaymakers must all be up at Borth,” she joked. It was a common complaint that no holidaymaker ever knew that Sunday is a really quiet day in Wales, with a lot of shops not opening open until late, or at all. All of that meant they were often amazed at how far they had to go for their morning newspaper. Like Borth, God help ‘em. “Good breakfast?” Stef asked as she plonked herself down on the chair to my left.

I shrugged. “Uhm, it’s cereal...” I answered. I mean, what else could I say? It was a kind of bran flake picked by Mum for being high in bran and low in sugar. I wouldn’t say it tasted terrible, but it did make you think about cutting up cardboard and pouring milk over it...

“It is cereal, isn’t it. So you want to feed me some of that... ?” Stef asked, with just the hint of a smirk to warn me something was up.

“Feed you... ?”

Stef nodded. “Uh-hum. Feed me. Your cereal, my mouth, feed me. Come on, it’s not that hard to figure out, is it?”

“Nooo, but why... ?”

Stef grinned, reached under the table, slid the hem of my shorts up, and casually grabbed hold of my cock. I went from ‘at ease’ to ‘attention’ so fast I thought I’d get cock whiplash! “What are you doing?” I gasped as I rubber-banded from Stef to the kitchen door and back again, terrified of sudden parental intrusion.

“Wow! Now that was an interesting thing to feel,” Stef said, my cock now ‘saluting the Queen’ and ready for a long afternoon on the parade ground. Of course, she’d never felt one go from soft to hard, much less in Gold Medal time so yeah, I could see that would be a whole new thing for her. My being held by her as I ‘made like steel’ was a new sensation for me, too, one I kinda liked. A lot.

“You don’t know what I’m doing?” Stef asked, her voice dripping in fake innocence. “Well, I think I’m feeling your cock, but as I can’t see under the table I might be wrong about that...”

“Oh you’re not wrong, that’s exactly what you’re doing,” I hissed. “But why’re you doing that here?”

“It’s called ‘incentivising’ Luke, and I’m getting hungry here...” Stef said as she mimed a chick in the nest. It was such a sweet thing to do, though that sweetness was reduced a little as she snaked her middle finger along my shaft began teasing my balls. God that felt really good, but really distracting, too. “Come on, Luke. Feed me,” she whined. “Don’t you want to know what your reward might be... ?”

“Uhm Stef, as good as this feels, and believe me it feels incredibly good, my ‘reward’ is likely to be death and a shallow grave if Mum or Dad comes in!”

Stef sat back a little and grinned, though she didn’t let go or anything potentially life-saving like that. “You can relax about that, Babes. There’s nooo danger either of them will be down anytime soon...” she said confidently.

For a moment I wondered what she could mean, and then the proverbial penny loudly hit the floor.

Oh no, not again!

“You mean... ?” I gasped in breathless horror.

Stef shook her head as she laughed. “No, they’re not doing that now, at least I don’t think they are ... but they absolutely tired themselves out last night so they won’t be down to breakfast this early, Sunday or not.”

“You mean ... last night ... the sofa...”

Stef chuckled. “Let me paint you a picture. There I was last night, lying down to read a little before sleep, when I heard them coming up to bed. I guess they must have decided that making a mess on the sofa maybe wasn’t the best idea ever, either. Anyway, up they came to bed...

“ ... and that’s where we’re taking our first intermission. Cereal me, Little Brother,” she commanded, opening her mouth in case I hadn’t got the message.

I’d got it, I was just confused by it.

“Wait... what? You lead me up to a great big cliff-hanger ... and that’s when you want your spoon of cereal?”

Stef nodded cheerfully. “A girl’s gots to eats...” she hammed.

“Really?”

“Uh-huh, ‘really’. Now. Bowl plus cereal plus Stef equals Luke gets to learn something I know he wants to learn...”

“Uhm, if this is about them having sex, I really don’t want to learn about that,” I said.

Stef giggled. “Well, it is to do with them having sex, but it’s not to do with the details of them having sex...”

“And you’re sure that it’s that important and that I’d be that interested?”

Stef nodded. “Absolutely.”

“So why not, oh I don’t know, why not just tell me?” I asked.

Stef shook her head. “I mean I could, but where’s the fun in that? Plus, you know those bike rides I go on? You know, like the one I literally just got back from? You do understand that they make me hungry? And you do understand the sacrifice I’m making to tell you this now, not later? You wouldn’t leave your poor little sister to go hungry, would you?” Stef wheedled.

“Uhm, ‘little sister’? You’re taller and older...”

“And wasting away from hunger!” Stef cried out, albeit quietly so that we didn’t wake the sleeping ‘rents. “Come on, Luke, feed me, already! Don’t you like me playful in the mornings?” she pouted as she slowly rolled back my foreskin and began to stroke me somewhere even more sensitive, in case I wasn’t crystal clear what she meant.

Somehow, I suppressed my yelp.

Stef wasn’t in the least successful in suppressing her giggle, though. Shameless!

I sighed with defeat. If Stef had decided it was safe, she wouldn’t stop playing her games until either I gave in, or Mum or Dad showed up, and I didn’t want that to happen. All I could do was play her game, and get it over with as quickly as possible. “Here you are,” I said as I loaded my spoon with some really soggy cereal and held it up for her.

Stef watched what I did, smiled, mouthed a ‘thank you’ and leant forward, at which precise moment she realised the flaw in her plan. It’s one thing to imagine being fed something like wet cereal by someone else, but it’s a lot trickier than she’d imagined to actually do it. After a series of twists of the head she gave up, opened her mouth, make a ‘u-uu’ sound I took to mean ‘come one’, so I did the ‘choo-choo’ like people do when feeding small children.

“Mm-mmm,” she mumbled as she carefully gobbled up the contents of my spoon. Was that ‘thank you’?

Finally, she swallowed with a comic head bob. “Thanks. So, there’s lots to tell you-”

“Lots?” I interrupted. “And this would be with the danger of the ‘rents coming into the kitchen at any moment, seeing me feeding you, which is odd, and you remember how Mum was about ‘odd’ when you kissed me on the top of my head, and now she’d be seeing much more odd, y’know, with your hand doing that to me down there...”

Stef shook her head confidently. “Relax! Like I told you, we’re in nooo danger there.”

“You sound very sure of that, Sis.”

Stef grinned. “What can I tell you? I am older and wiser, so, you know, it kind of comes with the package, buuut I also know this because I know all about last night. Which you don’t. Yet. And don’t you know, knowledge is power.”

“Which leaves me power-less, then?”

“I knew you were smarter than the average teen-age boy around here, although I can feel something quite powerful...” she teased as she squeezed my shaft. Again. In case I’d forgotten she was still holding me or something, I suppose.

“Setting how powerful that is to one side, usually my left,” I said, causing Stef to giggle as she found out which way I dressed. “Maybe if you told me this ‘thing’, y’know, quickly... ?

“Oh poor Luke, Didn’t Dad tell you when he gave you The Talk about how we girls like to take our time,” Stef chuckled.

I felt myself burn up as I thought about The Talk, even though Dad had said nothing about girls taking their time. The other things he told me? Yeah, that’s why I was blushing. Hard.

“Wow, I guess Dad kept that secret?” Stef said. “So, about last night. First, Mum and Dad were in a hurry. They were up and into their room like there was a fire or something. As soon as they were in there, they forgot the jazz, no shushing each other, nothing like that, they must have thought it was late enough we’d both be asleep I guess, so they, erm, well, they just got straight into it,” she said as she giggled at her accidental entendre.

“Second, they really didn’t take their time once they got to bed, either. It wasn’t like the night before, no half an hour of kissy-kissy before bonky-bonky but right down to the grunty-grunty and then... spoon!”

“Spoon?” I asked, momentarily confused how our parents went from ‘grunty’ to ‘spooning’. “Oh, you mean spoon as in spoon to feed you!?”

Stef grinned and nodded. “Girl hungry. Boy got food. Boy feed girl, girl make boy happy with food of learning,” she said in what had to be the worst Tarzan impersonation ever.

With a melodramatic sigh, I loaded up my spoon and did the whole choo-choo thing again.

“Thanks, Babes,” Stef said after she swallowed what would soon be the last of my breakfast. “Where was I? Oh-kay, so, they were in a hurry, they didn’t play Smooth Jazz, they seemed like they were having some kind of a kinky competition to see who could make who come first, and they were sooo noisy and sooo into each other – haha, oops! - that I knew they wouldn’t hear me moving around. So, I got out of bed, got my phone, and put it right next to your Whatchamacallit so it could record their melody, Melody Number Two ... and that’s when I had another idea!

“Why just record just Mum and Dad?

“Why not record me too, you know, to hear my Melody?

“I mean, that is all ‘scientific method’ and everything, isn’t it?

“So, there I am, nude, kneeling up on my bed, ear to the wall, listening to Mum and Dad having their ‘come-petition’ as I’m ‘floating the Gräfenberg’ so that after they came I’d be ready to come and we could hear the differences.

“Do you know what I learned?”

I shook my head. I resisted the urge to say ‘duh’, partly because I was imagining Stef fingering herself as she listened to Mum and Dad.

“I learned ... a girl can get really hungry doing things like that,” she grinned. She’d got me. Again.

“You want more food? Now?”

More happy nods, and so more deep sighs from me as I loaded another spoon with the sad dregs of my bowl and held it up for her to eat.

“Oh I need my muesli today,” Stef sighed as she did indeed finish the last of my breakfast. “Where were we? Oh yes, I remember. Now hold onto your socks, Luke, because this will blow them clean off.”

“Uhm, not wearing any...” I said as I waved my feet around a little, not that she could see through the table, but I felt it added to the narrative.

Stef sighed. “Soo unhelpful. Now you can listen to this later because I’ve got it all recorded, but Dad started to come, and your Whatchamacallit started playing Melody Number Two again, and then Mum started to come, so it played Melody Number Two again, once it had finished playing for Dad I guess.

“But it’s what happened next that blows it all apart, Babes.

“So, Dad had come, Mum had come, they’d ‘raced’ so hard I knew they were too sleepy to hear me, so I lay back down and finished ‘Gräfenberging’ myself but when your Whatchamacallit started to play when I started to come ... Luke, it played your song! My melody is also Melody Number One!” Stef announced.

“What!?”

“I know, Luke. I thought I would get my own tune, but Mum and Dad get Melody Two, and you and me get Melody One!”

“Wow, Sis,” I said. “So it’s one Melody for parents and another for their children?”

“Guess so. I told you you’d want to hear,” Stef grinned–

– as Mum slouched into the kitchen, looking happy and sleepy all at once, her hair and her white silk nightshirt with the red roses on it both a testimony to her having just got out of bed, dressing without bothering with a mirror, hence the ‘wild’ hair and the wayward nightshirt buttons.

Stef’s eyes got wide as she mouthed an ‘O’ and, with one last gentle squeeze – for luck? – she let go of my cock, all while Mum’s back was to us, the espresso machine gurgling away as it prepared her rejuvenation treatment.

“Morning, children,” she said, her back still to us as she waited for her drink to complete.

“Mum,” we each said.

“Up early?”

“Morning ride,” Stef said, as though she didn’t ride out every morning and today was different. Mum must’ve been sleepy. “It’s coming onto eight,” Stef added.

“It is?” Mum said, seemingly in surprise, as she looked up at the wall clock. “So it is ... Luke? Stef? Not having your father’s breakfast challenge?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Too hot for it, Mum.”

Mum nodded as she took her drink from the machine, sniffed it, sipped it, and sighed. “You might be right,” she said as she sat down at the kitchen table opposite to us. “And you?” she asked Stef.

Stef shook her head, too. “I’m a muesli girl to the core, but first, I need to go shower.”

Mum smiled shrewdly, it being quite unusual for Stef to delay her post-ride shower for any reason, but somehow she didn’t question it. Instead, she asked, “So, are you two spending the day together again, or are you going back to fighting like normal children are supposed to do?”

I shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about it,” I said.

“The fighting?” Mum asked, her eyes twinkling slightly as the caffeine began its work.

“We never really did that, did we?” Stef said.

Mum put down her espresso. “You know, you two really are the oddest. You don’t fight, you don’t argue, you don’t really tease each other. I’d almost swear you even liked each other. You two are so odd,” Mum said. “So, go do your together thing, whatever your together thing today is.”

“Er, oh-kay then...” Stef said as she got up, winked at me ‘off camera’, and headed upstairs where her shower and soapy cleanliness awaited. Her bum does look nice in Lycra, too.

Me? I still needed a little more time before I was ‘presentable’. Though Stef had pulled my shorts back down over my cock when she let go of me, even helpfully pulling my foreskin back into place, too, but I had in no way ‘calmed down’ enough to be comfortable standing in front of Mum yet. Maybe a couple of years?

“Luke?” Mum said as she sat down next to me where Stef had just been.

“Mum?”

“She’s a good girl, you know.”

“I know, Mum,” I agreed, not really knowing what else to say, not daring to imagine what context she was hinting at.

“That’s right, Honey,” she said as she put her cup down, closed her eyes, made a steeple of her arms, and leant her head on her hands. I think it’s called ‘coffee meditation’.

Guessing that was that until Mum had finished at least one cup of vitality, I decided it was time for me to go get changed. I was just looking over at Mum as I got up when–

Oh God!

As Mum had leant forwards, her not much buttoned nightshirt had fallen forward, and for the first time since I’d been a baby I was now able to look at Mum’s boob, nipple and all.

I froze.

Of course, once I’d realised that girls became women with boobs and that boobs were something that were really interesting to me as a teen-aged boy, I’d maybe glanced once or twice when I shouldn’t’ve, but I’d never seen anything and never really tried to, either. I guess I’d always been more interested in Stef than anyone else. Even just yesterday I’d done everything I could to see as little of Mum’s boobs, side-boobs, or any other parts of her boobs as I could.

And now this.

Mum’s boob.

Her pink nipple.

It was just... there.

And I could see it all...

Suddenly, my testicles were grasped by the icy hands of fear and sanity as my brain started working again. As quickly as I could, I turned and headed upstairs.

I didn’t say a word.

I didn’t dare!

Thank God, Mum was so sleepy, I don’t think she even noticed when I left.

I was sitting on my bed, still shaken by what I’d just seen, when there was a knock at the door.

“♪ It’s me! ♪” Stef sang in a loud whisper.

“Oh, uhm, you can come in,” I said.

“Are you ♪decent♪?”

“Would pulling on a tee shirt and already wearing my jeans count?” I teased.

“So that’s just your jeans and a T, then? Commando, huh?” Stef said as the door opened slowly and she walked in, a towel turban wrapped around her hair, another towel around her body, and the slight smell of strawberry accompanying her.

“What’re you doing? Have you got a mad death wish today or something?” I hissed as I looked up and saw not only Stef in her towels, but also that the slit of the main towel was at the front.

“I was just bringing your Whatchamacallit back,” she said in her ‘little girl’ voice as she closed the door behind her and held The Thing out for me.

“And the rest?” I asked as I waved airily, hopefully suggesting her being in my room, in a towel, and that towel not really covering her very well. I know, it was a lot to ask of a wave.

If today had been a weekday, then it could have been fun as the ‘rents would be gone to work by now, but it wasn’t, they weren’t, and the myth of Damocles was never a favourite of mine. “What if Mum or Dad were to see you in here like this?” I whispered.

Stef grinned. “There’s not much chance of that, remember?” she said as she waggled The Thing in front of her until I took it and put it on my bedside table.

“Seriously?” I asked as I looked at the door, willing it to become far more resistant to sudden parental opening that I knew it to be. I’d never been caught ‘socking’, but I had been caught not as dressed as I’d’ve preferred a time or too many.

“Well, I did just see saw Mum heading back into their room, and she’d already unbuttoned her nightshirt...” Stef answered.

“Uhm, that’s not like you think it is, Sis.”

Stef cocked her head to one side. “And that would be because... ?”

“Because Mum was like that, a couple of minutes ago, down in the kitchen.”

“With her top like that?” Stef asked, surprised.

I nodded.

“And you saw... ?”

I might’ve misinterpreted what she’d thought I’d seen, but I had to get it out of me head. “Yeah, I saw, I saw her boob, Sis! The whole thing, nipple and everything!”

Stef grinned. “Well, they do tend to come with nipples, though I’m not sure what an ‘everything’ is. Let me take a guess, and you’re getting yourself all tied up in a knot about what you saw?”

I nodded slowly.

“You okay?” she asked, all teasing gone as genuine concern took its place.

“Honestly, Sis, I don’t know. I mean I have tried to ‘sneak’ in the past, I’ve told you that, but it wasn’t like it was with you, and now I’ve seen her boob and I can’t unsee it and–”

“And you might try breathing?” Stef suggested.

I nodded and took a breath. Felt good. I might do it more often.

“So, now you’ve seen Mum’s boob all hanging out in front of you–”

I couldn’t help myself, but I admit it, I sniggered. “Uhm, ‘hanging’?”

Stef shrugged. “Well, they are bigger than mine, and when they get that size, they do hang. Don’t tell me you’ve not seen that in your ‘internet research’–”

I think that was the point when I spontaneously combusted from a case of near terminal blushing. I’m pretty sure my duvet was scorched, too. I certainly felt a lot of heat.

“Haha. So you have done some ‘research’ then,” Stef confirmed, very unhelpfully. “Any-way, Mr. Red-Face, now you’ve seen Mum’s boob ... so what?”

“Uhm, I dunno,” I said. I know I felt odd about it, but I couldn’t put my finger on why or how.

“Okay, try this for size. So you saw Mum’s boob. She either doesn’t know or doesn’t care. You, on the other hand, you can’t say anything about it without making it an issue, so don’t. I mean you were sucking on them back when you were a babe - we both were - so it’s not like we’ve never encountered them before, is it?”

I had to chuckle at her logic. “Uhm that’s a magnificently practical perspective–”

“Thanks!” Stef cheerily interrupted. “Soo, before you get your head all twisted up, just write it off as a delayed boob sighting from infancy, displaced through time like one of your sf movies, and let’s go to town. Okay?”

“So we can, like, get dressed and go to town and get as far away from the ‘crime scene’ as possible and forget all about it ever having happened?” I asked hopefully.

“Sounds good to me, especially now I know Mum wasn’t unbuttoned because she was rushing back to Dad and I am in here, in a towel, so, you know, we’re not in a good position, are we? Sooo, you feel like taking a walk along the promenade, make fun of the holidaymakers, you know, the usual summer Sunday... ?”

“Well that’s better than what I’d thought up.”

“You had plans?” Stef asked. She sounded impressed. She wouldn’t be.

“Nope,” I admitted.

Stef chuckled. “Riiight. So, we’ll do what I said, back here for lunch, and maybe catch a little sun this afternoon, away from it all?” she suggested. I knew what she meant about away from it all. Sunday mornings were okay during the summer, but once the ‘greatly spotted holidaymakers’ emerged, it’d turn noisy and crowded in a hurry.

“Works for me.”

“Cool,” Stef said as she stood up and turned so that her back was against the door. “Oh, Luke?”

“Sis?” I said as I looked up.

“Just remember, you can look at these tits all week long,” she said as she parted her towel, not quite like the Batman’s cape, but certainly wide enough that I could, indeed, see her wonderful little boobs. And everything else.

Of course, being a teen-aged boy whose just seen a naked teen-aged girl, I responded with the type of sophistication and aplomb that my kind are famed for - I grinned like a loon.

God, she was beautiful. Really hard nipples, by the look of them, too.

“Done?” she asked as she swished her hips a little from side to side, her slit dancing from side to side very distractingly.

“Am I done looking at you? Honestly? Never.”

Stef giggled. “Good answer, but, ten minutes?” she said as she let her towel fall back down, patted it into place, turned to open the door, and was gone.

I had just stood up to find my socks and an overshirt, red cotton to go over my plain black tee, when I heard voices outside.

My heart stopped beating.

I could just make out Stef’s voice – and Mum’s!

“Oh, hi Mum ... no ... just returning a comic ... I know ... yeah ... okay ... sweet dreams...”

I heard footsteps, I heard doors closing, I heard the house fall silent again.

I waited a moment more, but nothing. Nobody bursting through the door, no angry parents, nothing.

I think it was only then that my heart remembered that beating regularly was a good strategy to defeat premature death.

Breathing and a beating heart? Who knew?

I love my sister, but I think she maybe knows me too well; I’d literally only just sat down to pull on my socks when my phone chimed and I saw that she’d sent me a message. “Relax. Mum’s cool – sleepy – gone 2 pee - back 2 bed now 2 sleep again - Breathe Babz! xxx”

It’s not easy pulling sock on when your hands are still shaking.

“Really?” I asked as Stef came into the living room where I was waiting for her, absolutely not sitting on the sofa, no matter how much I wanted to believe Stef’s reassurances that Mum and Dad had ‘taken it upstairs’ last night before it became a professional upholstery cleaning thing. I was sure she was telling the truth, but it was just all too fresh in my mind.

“What?” she asked, striking a pouty model’s pose for me so that I could see her in all her glory, and to be honest her glory was pretty glorious, even if I was fairly sure she’d never dressed dressing like that last summer, or this summer for that matter. “Erm, I don’t have breakfast on my chin or anything, do I?” she asked as I’d heard her in the kitchen a couple of minutes earlier; hurried muesli, I’d presumed.

“No, not that...”

“Oh, cool,” Stef said as she redoubled her posing, voguing, vamping, and whatever else you call it-ing as she moved around giving me a full view of her ensemble.

From bottom to top, Stef had on a pair of black ankle socks underneath her black jeans, not much different to me, really. I guessed she had whatever underwear she was most comfortable in – probably not boxers, but I was learning to take nothing for granted with Stef – but from there we really went our own ways.

Me? I was in a tee with an over-shirt.

Stef? It seemed she’d suddenly developed a ‘thing’ for exposing her midriff, and her ‘outie’ was as out as it could be, both because of how low-slung her jeans were, but also because she was wearing, well, I wasn’t sure what she was wearing. I knew it couldn’t be an underwear type of bra, but whatever it was it was trying it’s hardest to look like underwear.

I was confused

Suddenly I had a flash of inspiration! Stef hadn’t finished dressing and had come to ask me for advice on what to wear over the top. It was daring of her to come downstairs like that, but you really couldn’t see anything, so I guess she’d decided it was worth the risk of parental discovery.

“Uhm, where’s your blouse?” I asked, as if gently reminding someone they’d forgotten to zip their flies.

“What blouse would that be, Babes?”

“The one to go over...”

“Over this?” Stef said as she shimmied her shoulders, her yoga paying off as it tightened my jeans.

“Uhm, yeah,” I said, feeling suddenly like I’d somehow got it wrong. Again. “Don’t laugh, Sis, but is that underwear?”

Stef chuckled softly, not at me but at the question. “No it isn’t, Luke, and I could never go out like that! Even if Mum never knew and never killed me – or Dad! – but who goes out like that here? No, Babes, it’s a bikini top,” she clarified.