Polinka Goes on Holiday
Copyright© 2026 by Clee Hill
Chapter 13
“Good morning, Biscuit,” Stephen said, Polinka already smiling as she took a slow breath in, held it, and sighed it out, opening her eyes into the warm honeyed light of the morning. Turning her head to her left she saw her father lying beside her, his arm lightly over her tummy as she lay on her back.
Polinka stretched for a moment, almost feline in how she seemed to be as long as Nicky, toes to fingertips. “Hey, Dad. You rolled me over?”
Stephen chuckled. “You did that yourself, sweetheart. That’s how I found you a couple of minutes ago.”
“Huh. I don’t remember the last time I slept on my back, or my tummy. I’m a side sleeper, bought and paid for, got my membership card back home and everything,” she smiled, rolling onto her side and forward into their first kiss of the day. “Must be that pesky twin of mine getting up to no good again.”
“Oh. Him,” Stephen smiled as she got busy with her first nonsense of the day.
“Yeah. An invisible twin who’s also a lizard. That’s kind of getting your holiday off with a bang,” she chuckled, feeling that, though there, a joke about Alison wasn’t the thing to add. Not for now, anyway.
“He’s also a lizard? I see. Well, not only do I bow down before our lizard overlords, but I’m also glad he’s not here.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
“He might want me to kiss him too,” Stephen said as he wriggled forward and Polinka grinned as he kissed her.
“Wow, Dad, you really did it.”
“Kiss you good morning?”
“No. You did the whole ‘who goes first’ thing. I didn’t need to ask, I didn’t need to start, you just went for it. Well done. I’d say keep it up, but can you keep it where it is while we go for another, please?” she teased as she leant in to start their next kiss, just as affectionate and unhurried.
“Thanks,” she winked as they drew a little apart. “You’re, haha, not so nervous this morning?”
Stephen winced slightly.
“It’s fine, don’t worry. Actually ... it might be useful,” she said, not quite thinking what she was saying and bursting out laughing at his surprised expression. “No, Dad, no that way - eww! - but I, I’ve had an idea, something I’d like to try, but I might need you to be my bodyguard. That’s if you even let me...”
“And why might you need a bodyguard?”
Polinka abruptly sat up, took her phone, and checked the time. “Cool. So, I’ve been thinking. Drones. They’re always low pitched and, well they feel kind of wintery, maybe a little autumnish, haha, but not summery. I want to change that. I’ve got an idea, but I probably need your help. And permission.”
“Go on...”
“Okay. So that idea is, pitch the drone higher. I mean sure, I can do that any time, but to help me get in the mood, even see if it’s a thing that can be done, I was kind of maybe sort of wondering if I could go play for a little while, while it’s still early.”
“Which doesn’t normally need a ‘bodyguard’,” Stephen said, his eyebrow asking her to explain the rest of her plan. Which was what she had expected, but had decided it was easier if she led him there step by step rather than jumping there in one go.
“Nude.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah. I mean, come on, what’s more summery than a blonde in the buff?”
Stephen laughed. “I would say many things, but more summery? Biscuit, you might have got me there.”
“I knew you’d say ‘yes’,” Polinka grinned. “Let me get my phone and drone machine and box of tricks, we go for a little ‘trowel time’, and then I find somewhere and improvise for a few minutes, record it to check it over later, and ... toast?”
“I think we can do better than toast, if you can wait until we find a café somewhere?”
“Ya talked me into it,” she said in a terrible American ‘accent’. “And the rest...?”
“Let me make sure the coast is clear first?”
“Sure. You go, cough cough, deal with your ‘enthusiasm’, I’ll do mine, and we’ll rendezvous back here to set off in search of a sunny spot to get all droney in, deal?”
“Deal,” he said, still shaking his head as, keys in hands, they quickly did their ‘trowel duties’ before meeting back at Nicky, Stephen helping to carry things.
“Through here?” she asked as they found their way through the gate of a nearby field tall with browning wheat.
“It looks safe,” Stephen said, making a show for her of looking in every direction. “No saucers, either,” he teased, shielding his eyes as he checked the skies.
“Didn’t think there would be. My brother’s probably already back on the mothership by now,” she joked as she looked around, finding a grassy track next to the crops where she could sit down without damaging them and without worrying about getting a dirty bum. Moving so she was cross-legged, she plugged her drone machine into the interface and the interface into her phone as she put in one of her buds. “You want to hear?” she asked, offering him the other. “I’m only playing, so it’ll be in mono.”
“You can do that?” he asked, taking the ear bud from her as he sat down opposite her, both cross-legged, both nude, and both utterly unconcerned, forgetting, even, they were not dressed after all.
Polinka nodded. “It can do both. If I’m serious I’ll do it in stereo and split the tracks after, but mono’s fine for this.”
“I see,” he said, sounding as if he didn’t, not really, as she smiled at him for a moment, checked her bud was secure, and powered up her DS-2.
“That was...” Stephen began as he and Polinka headed back, twenty minutes later, her phone busily transferring the fruits of her labours up to the cloud.
“Was...?”
“I’m not sure. Different from the other pieces you’ve played for me, yours and others’, but I’m still not sure what it was.”
“Yep. That’s what makes it so much fun. Twiddle a couple of knobs and it’s nothing like anything else. Sounds good with the effects in the phone, but I think it needs something else, something over the top, some kind of melody on a soft synth, maybe even that Kobol once I get it talking to my laptop,” she explained as they got back to the van, Polinka in first to put her DS-2 safely away, Stephen to take care of their bed.
“You have something like that?”
“Couple. There’s a bunch that’s free. I just need to draw a melody or two, or just pick a chord apart and play the notes one at a time and not all at once.”
“Sounds complicated.”
Polinka shook her head. “Nah. I’m not good at it yet and it’s not really my thing, but I think a ‘summer drone’ needs, haha, needs a little birdsong chirruping away in the background.”
“I look forward to hearing the finished thing,” he said, opening his case and pulling on some underpants.
“Me too,” Polinka giggled. “Okay to go braless and pantyless again today?”
“Depends what other clothes you have in mind,” he said as he pulled on his shorts, loose, soft cotton, and for once not creased by crushed to look like he was an explorer of some kind.
“So sitting in the van in the nuddee isn’t an option?” she winked.
“Of course it is,” he said, smiling as her eyes went wide. “Right up until the moment I switch the engine on, or a curious farmer comes by to get the surprise of his life.”
“So my tiddies are surprising?” Polinka giggled.
“You did surprise me with them,” he winked.
“Yeah. Sorry about that but, you know, if we’d sat, and talked, and reasoned, and debated ... or tiddie ta-da,” she smiled.
“And an excellent idea it has proven to be, too, once I got past the shock of my daughter taking my cock in her hand when it got in her way.”
“Again, blah-blah-blah, or, er ... blimey, that’s my knob her hand,” she grinned.
“Quite. And your choice for today?”
“Oh I’ll probably have to grab your knob again later, don’t worry,” she winked. “But if you mean clothes, I could wear my denim skirt, you know, the one you like because of all the pleats,” she teased, holding it up, pulling it on, and doing a little turn, topless and pantyless.
“And...?” Stephen chuckled.
“Oh. I’ve got to wear a top?” she pouted. “Oh! Yes! My scarf, but like this,” she said, Stephen watching as she folded it into an upside down triangle, tying the ends into an ornate bow, moving it so it was behind her, and tying the two ‘points’ at the top behind her neck. “So?”
“I think you need more scarfs. You look really good.”
“Thanks! And thanks for the offer of more scarfs too.”
“Perhaps in Cork?”
“No, I prefer silk,” she giggled.
“Cork the city which is on our way to tonight’s destination.”
“Er, you don’t mind if we don’t, do you? I’m sure it’s lovely, but a city full of holidaymakers in this heat?”
“Or we can go somewhere else.”
“Cool. And a café for breakfast?”
“Bacon or croissant?”
“Hmm. Croissant, I think. I feel like something light. That okay?”
“Of course it is, sweetheart.”
“You’re not just letting me have my own way, are you?” she asked, her eyebrows wiggled hard to make sure she knew she wasn’t too serious, just checking.
“Not really, I had no preference either way, and a coffee and something light does sound more appealing than a Full Irish.”
“Never fancied a Full Irish, just, haha, just the tip,” she said as she saw Stephen’s shocked expression and really began to laugh, simply unable to believe he was so shocked at her making that joke.
She was still tittering as they got into the front of the van, opened the windows, and headed off.
“That was incredible!” Polinka declared as they set off again, breakfast behind them in a little café in a village they were passing through, the family who owned it being a mixture of Irish and Indian. They had opened McMalaber in the 1950s when the first generation of owners had married, and now the third generation were settling in, with the fourth already being trained up. Their bakery covered everything, from cronuts, which neither had had before and which Polinka whispered were too sweet, through to muffins, Polinka being delighted to find one that was more oatmeal and less sugar, a couple more of which were in the little paper bag beside her for tomorrow’s breakfast. Add to that a nice coffee each, and it had been one of those little discoveries she knew she would remember again.
“It was, wasn’t it. I never knew you could make a croissant with sourdough.”
“I know! And it was good, too,” she said, Stephen having shared some of his in exchange for the bulk of her cronut.
“Something to keep us until we get to our destination.”
“Which is ... Let me guess, it’s a secret and a mystery and I’ll love it?”
“You’ve hacked my itinerary?”
“Nope. Never have and never would. For one, eww, that’s rude, and for two ... Dad, this is the best holiday ever, every day is a surprise and I’m loving all of them. I know how much hard work you’ve put into this, and, haha, it’s pretty obvious you’re having a ball watching me scream and gasp and stuff, so no, you do your thing, don’t worry about me.”
“I’m glad to hear you’re enjoying it.”
“Are you kidding? I’m a secret reptile with a twin brother, chasing all over Wales and Ireland looking to get abducted ... Actually, no, I don’t want to be abducted, but, you know, a few photos with the greys would be a nice souvenir.”
“I shall add it to the list,” Stephen said as their puttered along the quiet lanes for a while.
They had gone a good few miles before Polinka decided she couldn’t contain it any longer and she had to ask. She was pretty sure she knew his answers, but she needed to hear them. “Dad? You know how you’ve said we can always talk about anything?”
“I do,” he said, his tone making clear for her how he had picked up her serious tone and was mirroring it.
“Cool. So. It’s, haha, a sex thing.”
“A sex thing? You know those are the trickiest. Do I get extra money for this?”
Polinka laughed, relieved he wasn’t going to take this too seriously. “No, well, yes, but it’s just the usual, you know, kisses and lots of cuddles.”
“My favourite kind.”
“Aww,” she said, turning to smile to him, realising she hadn’t been looking as she began, afraid of eye contact if this wasn’t the right place and time for some reason or another. “Dad? How do you know whether sex is important?”
“Important? In what way, sweetheart?”
“I think I might need to confess something.”
“Oh? You know you don’t need to if you don’t need to.”
“Wow, Dad, I couldn’t have said that better myself,” Polinka smiled. “Guess I’m a bad influence, huh? Oh and don’t worry, I’m still very much a virgin; it’s not that,” she said, making the joke to try to make her feel more confident, less anxious. “It’s ... it’s about last Friday and Alison.”
“Oh?”
“So, I’d never done anything like that before and it was awesome and I can’t wait to do it again, it’s just ... Dad, is your first time supposed to be, you know, the whole cliché of the most amazing and memorable sex ever, or is just, just something you get over? And is all sex like that? I don’t know. Some of the girls at school talk about it like it’s life changing and others like it’s fun but, you know, nothing more than that.
“Anyway, so me and Alison were in the showers, snogging and feeling each other up and I know I’m blushing but I need to finish to ask, but ... Dad. I think I’m a slut!” she wailed, her heart beating fast with the horror of her confession.
Risking a glance over, Stephen hurried to reassure her. “No, sweetheart, you’re nothing of the kind. But why do you think you could be?”
“I, I keep thinking how much I wish we hadn’t stopped, how much I would have loved her to, er—”
“—I think I understand what you mean,” Stephen interrupted, saving her from herself for continuing.
“You do. Cool ‘cause I really wasn’t sure you could stand to hear me confessing how many gay things I want to do and done to me,” she said, taking a breath to calm herself. It didn’t work, but it had been worth the try. “But that’s the thing. First times are supposed to be something, aren’t they, but I was ready to ‘get it on’ with someone I just met, get my gong banged, the whole T-Rex. I don’t get it, Dad. Is it important or not? Am I a slut or just desperate to get shagged? It’s, it’s really confusing me,” she said, feeling like she had just told her deepest and darkest secret - which she had! - and now had to wait for the other person’s response. Yes, she knew her father and loved and trusted him, but she had also confessed she might be a little bit slutty, and she was pretty sure that no father wanted to hear that.
“Let me guess. Since Friday you’ve gone one way and the other on what you wish had happened?”
“Oh no, I absolutely wanted to get some muff munched, haha, it’s just ... Shouldn’t it be more than making each other come?” she asked, aware her blush was now visible from space but determined to be as graphic as she needed to try to make her father understand how much it hurt that she hadn’t.
“Sweetheart, that depends on a lot of things, and there’s no easy answer I’m afraid.”
“Shiitake,” she said, trying to chuckle, Stephen not really laughing either.
“Okay, let me put it like this. It doesn’t matter one way or the other, important or lacking that kind of ‘importance’. All that matters is how you feel, and how the other person feels. And it won’t be the same all the time, either. Sometimes you want the rose petals in the bath, candles flickering away, and some smooth jazz, and other times you just want to, well, fuck each other senseless. Does that make sense.”
“Do ... them ... senseless ... only ... sometimes, got it,” she winked as she mimed writing it down into a pad. “But how do you know?”
“Tell them what you want, ask them what they want. Tender or animal? That kind of thing,” he said, smiling a little towards her as the road was straight and clear at that moment.
“And if you just want, er, to be done?”
“Then that’s what you want. It doesn’t make you a slut to want sex, sweetheart. Oh you can be sure that there will be a queue of people more than happy to offer their opinion of what is ‘right’ and ‘wrong’, but they don’t matter. All that matters is whether or not you are having the sex you want and need.”
“So, haha, if I kind of maybe don’t get a ‘girlfriend’ and just find someone to, haha, do me good and proper?”
“Then that’s what you want and need. Today. Tomorrow you might feel differently. Or not. Like I told you, Biscuit, there is no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ except in the eyes of others. If you are smiling when you get into bed and smiling when you get back out again later, that is the only ‘test’ that matters.”
Polinka nodded a moment, letting the words sink in, feeling their truth even if she knew she would be thinking about them again, often too, probably. “They really teach you everything at Dad School, huh?”
Stephen chuckled. “I wish. Their curriculum is sadly lacking in many areas.”
“Me?”
“No, Biscuit, not you. Trying to help your daughter navigate her way through growing up in a world full of conflicting and contradictory ideas, that I would have loved some guidance with.”
“Your guidance is fine, Dad, don’t worry.”
“Thank you. I just wish, well, things that could have been different might have been easier for you.”
Polinka shook her head. “Nope. Wouldn’t have happened.”
“You sound very confident about that?” Stephen said, obviously confused she felt that way.
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