Chapter 4: Day Four

Day four began on a note where the previous day ended with Emily exposing her bottom, but covering up her top, mainly her breasts. It was a radical departure, but part of the evolving “no pants” rule she and Mason had pledged to honor. On this day, it simply became the “no panties” deal. Plus, Emily already knew that Mason was enamored with her breasts. It was time for him to focus on and react to the part that defined her femininity.

When Mason saw her, she was coming in from the patio wearing one of his white shirts with the sleeves rolled up. She was completely naked down below. Her pubic hairs were glistening in the bright morning sunlight. She stood demurely by the door hoping and waiting for him to say something.

“Geez, that’s brave of you to be outside like that all by yourself,” he said, not looking at her face, but at the silky, furry patch between her thighs. He was standing behind the counter where she couldn’t see his rising enthusiasm.

She woke up early to go feel and breathe in the cool fresh morning air and soak up some sunshine before the heat and humidity got unbearable. None of the neighbors could see her or anyone from the street. The day promised to be another one of those sweltering summer days without any relief in the forecast.

Nevertheless, she was moved by his chivalrous concern. “Don’t worry,” she replied. “I stayed under the patio. If you want, you can join me.”

Mason declined and offered to prepare breakfast. Emily stayed and watched him move and bounce around in his loose-fitting, light-blue briefs, making scrambled eggs with sausage patties, toasting and buttering slices of bread, and pouring orange juice. He had a silly boyish smile on his face every time he looked at her.

Finally, she had to ask, “What’s with you today? Did you see a birdie?”

“No, but I did see something nicer that also starts with a ‘b’,” he said, but was too embarrassed to say the obvious.

Emily was absolutely sure he was referring to her beaver and was flattered that he thought it looked nice. She wanted him to explain, but decided not to put him on the spot and went to take her morning shower. However, she was determined to find out what other “naughty” words he knew and preferred to use without feeling awkward or resorting to lame nuances.

She understood that some people don’t like to use “dirty” words, except maybe in their thoughts. The only one she didn’t like was “cunt.” It sounded slutty. She felt there was nothing distasteful with “beaver”, “bush”, “pussy”, “pubes”, “clit”, or “boobs.” They actually sounded cute.

On the other hand, vagina and clitoris were too proper and better used in the doctor’s office. Mom used them up until the time she gave Emily “The Talk.” Since then, she just made subtle references.

And then, there were the words “dick”, “cock” and “balls” that sounded tantalizing and more masculine than the stilted anatomical terms of penis and testicles. Of course, she would know better once she got to know them for real.

She was neutral about “fuck”, the most famous of all four-letter words. It was used and abused by everybody in so many ways that it lost its shock effect. Yet, she felt there was nothing crude or obscene if a girl says to her lover, “Fuck me!” It was a strong, beautiful way to say, “I need you inside me.” On the other hand, when a guy says, “I’m going to fuck you”, he’s basically saying “I want to get inside you.” In Emily’s mind, need and want were two different impulses. The first is a woman’s supplication to be possessed by her man; the second a man’s assertion to possess his woman. That’s exactly how Emily imagined it would be with her brother. However, it was going to take a little more homework to get him to the point where he would want to express and act out these primeval desires. She certainly was ready although not sure how the moment would unfurl with him tunneling his way inside her sex with his mighty prong.

When Emily returned from the shower, she had changed into a red tank top with her butt, belly and furry pussy fully exposed. She planted herself in front of Mason, posing with her arms raised and hands behind her head in a position of surrender, and asked, “Do you think I should shave my pussy?”

Mason was surprised both with her presentation and question and blushed; even the tips of his ears turned a deep pink, and he suddenly had to cross his legs. Still, he felt the need to study her bushy feature and replied, “You mean completely?”

“Yeah, some girls like the look and feel of prepubescence, of being smooth and bald between their legs.”

“But you’re not a little girl anymore,” he said without hesitation. “Besides, your beaver looks okay to me, and I think it makes your pussy look, you know, kinda neat and sexy.”

The way he said it sounded like he was a connoisseur of pussies who had seen lots of naked girls, with and without pubic hair.

Emily was not prepared for his response and didn’t know what to say to keep the dialogue going. Of course, she wasn’t going to shave her sex pot. It was only an attempt to get him to look at and to talk about her intimate treasure. She once shaved her pussy when she was fourteen and, when the pubes came back with a vengeance, the stubbles felt awfully scratchy like she had a prickly hair brush stuck between her legs.

“Well, I was thinking of just trimming it for you,” she suggested. “You can’t imagine how itchy it gets down there and burns and gets all red when I shave it bald.”

“Is that normal?”

“Yes, but it’s far worse the first time around.”

“Well then, don’t do it anymore,” he said like it was an ultimatum.

“OK, I’ll just trim the hair so that nothing escapes and peeks out the sides of my small bikini.”

“Oh, like when you were wearing that G-string the other day?”

“I didn’t think you noticed. I’ve been meaning to trim the unruly, stray pubes, but really haven’t had to yet.” After a long pause, Emily asked, “By the way, do you trim the hair around your cock?”

Mason was quick to respond, “You mean my dick?”

“Dick, cock, yeah whatever,” Emily amended.

“I once snipped the hairs around my tool-bag, but it got kinda thorny down there, too.”

“I promise not to shave my kitty, if you promise not to shave your balls.”

“Deal,” Mason said, allowing Emily to lower her arms.

She pranced upstairs to her room, feeling optimistic that they had broken ground, talking casually about preening their boy and girl parts. She was also confident that he was on the verge of taking the plunge, adopting the “no pants” rule. She now needed to come up with her next move and fast.

Mason, on the other hand, remained incredulous that his sister had become so audacious in the last three days, unabashedly showing him her naked body. Even though she was his sister, he was turned on by her feminine charms and felt royally rewarded that she was giving him front seat viewing pleasure. A million questions went through his mind, but he always came back to the same one. Where was she going with this and what did she expect from him?

He was yanked from his thoughts when he heard Emily howling with laugher and calling him to come over to her room. She wanted to show him something. He sprung from his chair eager to see what she wanted to show him this time.