Chapter 04 - Slippery Sister

Tuesday 27th June

Tuesday dawned with clear skies, a few wisps of mist ‘over the back’, and a promise that the sunshine that should always accompany school holidays would return after the inglorious interruption that had been yesterday. I felt good after a sound night’s sleep, no doubt helped by my being less worried about whatever Stef and I were going to call whatever it was that Stef and I were up to. Now that we’d kind of agreed that it wasn’t that whole incest kind of incest, that it was just about as far removed from the nasty stuff as we could be, I realised I was a whole lot less anxious about what was not much more than games of ‘mommies and daddies’, just with a slightly older than usual ‘mommie’ and ‘daddie’.

And truthfully, what had we done, really? She’d seen mine and she’d showed me hers, and yes, we were both teen-agers who’d been visited by Dr. Hormones, but if we’d come from one of those hippy families where everyone ran around naked all the time, we would have seen more, and sooner, than we’d seen now. Okay, so ‘flashing’ me and sending naked selfies was a bit more than just all being naked on the beach in the south of France, but it was still just skin, wasn’t it?

At least that’s what I thought, and thinking it over that way, I felt a whole lot better about things now that I’d digested the idea that I’d seen Stef naked, she’d seen me, and you know what, it hadn’t been the end of the world.

So with that now settled and the fact that I’ve always thought there’s something about a bright sunny day after a rainy one that can make you feel quite giddy, all was right with the world for me. With a smile on my face and still dressed in my ‘urban camo’ tee and sleeping shorts I opened the door of my room, walked down the stairs–

–and stopped in my tracks, three steps from the bottom.

Mum hadn’t gone to work yet.

Her trouser suit jacket was hanging from a hook in the hallway, and her work shoes – sensibly flat instead of how-does-she-do-it heels – were also still in the hallway.

Mum was very serious about attending work or school, and even more so about being punctual, and though she wasn’t late enough leaving to be late, she was still late in leaving compared to normal. This had to be serious, whatever ‘it’ was.

Cautiously I opened the kitchen door.

“Good morning, Honey,” Mum said as she saw me. She was at her espresso machine, sipping her coffee, and looking as relaxed as anyone can in a trouser suit and a nice lemon silk blouse. She certainly sounded relaxed, but that just didn’t make any sense. It was already gone 7:30am, a time when she’d usually be heading off to work, but today she wasn’t?

“Morning, Mum. You on holiday?” I tentatively asked as I moved towards the cupboards. I didn’t think she’d said anything about a day off, but with everything going in with Stef and me, she might have and it’d just not sunk in.

“No, just a late start. An IT upgrade over-ran; we all got the email,” she explained with not a hint of irony.

“Ah,” I said, opening the cupboard where cereals lurked.

“What are you doing, Luke?” Mum asked as she smiled at me wryly.

“Y’know ... breakfast...” I answered even as I sensed that somehow wasn’t the right response.

“So you don’t want Aoife’s Eggs Benedict then?” she asked as she smiled knowingly at me.

I abruptly stopped looking in the cupboards.

Mum’s Eggs Benedict were a thing of legend. She made her own hollandaise sauce. It tasted like nobody else’s. It was incredible. That wasn’t just my verdict, but the verdict of everyone who ever was lucky enough to taste it. And when she made Eggs Benedict, you could find the eggs, they weren’t drowned in sauce. Even the toast was still crunchy. Yes, toast. Everyone thinks eggs Benedict is supposed to be served on muffins. Maybe it is, but Mum uses crusty bread, hand sliced, and buttered just right.

And she was asking if I wanted that for breakfast?

It wasn’t even a contest.

“Hell... oh! Yes please,” I corrected myself.

Mum chuckled. “Nice change of course, Luke. Okay, either just sit down at the table, or make yourself something to drink, but whatever you do, if you can keep out of my way it should be ready in about ten minutes,” she said as she set her cup down and turned to find the magical things.

That’s right, magical.

There’s the Slotted Spoon of Splendour which is used to remove the Poached Eggs of Magic from the Whirlpool of Wonder.

Definitely magical.

I’ve watched Mum do it dozens of times, and I’ve tried to do it myself, but she must have made some kind of deal with the water and the cooker, because when I try to poach eggs in the spinning water, I get spinning bits of eggs; Mum gets the perfect poached egg.

Every. Time.

Like I said, magic!

Hoping that I would see the trick she uses this time, I watched from a safe distance as Mum deftly turned the water up to full at the same time as she set the hollandaise back up to temperature. As she waited for them to be ready, she took the artisanal bread from the artisanal breadbin, cut it with the artisanal bread knife, and put it under the grill, the artisanal butter just waiting to the side, the artisanal butter knife standing ready. Mum was a sucker for farmer’s markets, both the real thing and the fake ones which are for the tourists and the gullible. This butter came from a farmer she’d been buying from for years, the eggs, too, and the bread was baked by a proper baker, not some ‘hipster dilettante’ as she called the others.

Just as the water was beginning to boil, the kitchen door opened and Stef walked in dressed in a pale lavender coloured tee, as over-sized as all the other tees she wore around the house for breakfast. I remembered the first time she’d worn that tee, and how Mum had teased her that she hadn’t known that pastels were ‘coming back’. From the way she’d said it, we knew she was teasing Stef, but neither of us could tell why. Were pastels an ‘old’ thing? Whatever the reason, it looked good on her and I certainly wasn’t going to criticise, she knew way more about fashion that I did, so if she said that colour was in, I wasn’t going to argue. Anyway, she’d already taken control of far more of my clothes shopping at the weekend than I’d ever planned for, and her choices had been good ones.

For a moment Stef stopped in her tracks as she looked to me, to Mum, and back to me again, by now her quizzical eyebrow raised to thirty percent as she said, “Erm, hey, Mum.”

“Late start; IT; busy,” Mum said, explaining everything without turning around for even a fraction of a second, her focus solely on my breakfast. “Eggs Benedict for you, too?” Mum asked.

Stef smiled happily. “Come on, Mum. You need to ask?”

Mum smiled in that way parents do when they just knew what you were going to say. “One egg or two?”

“Big ride this morning, so two, please.”

“Same orders for you as Luke, then. You know the drill, you can make your drink but don’t distract the chef,” Mum said, her back to us both the whole time.

“Right,” Stef said as she turned to me, grinned, and briefly flicked the hem of her tee up just high enough and for just long enough for me to get a quick look at her beautiful little siolen.

I was about to object – silently, of course – when I realised that if Stef was happy it was safe for her to flash me her pussy then I should trust her and enjoy the moment. After all, her shaven siolen, slender lipped, and with almost no slit at all, was always worth a look, something I’d somehow learned and taken to heart in less than a day.

Worried that the moment was past, I mouthed a ‘wow’ and nodded over to Mum, conscious that time was against us, and that that was not the kind of pose Stef wanted to get caught pulling off. With a nonchalant shrug, she let go of her tee, smoothed it down to make sure her ‘modesty’ was fully covered, and went about the business of making her own drink, having been granted access to Mum’s prized espresso machine on her sixteenth birthday.

She had just pressed the button on the machine when Mum called “Clear!” as she turned and put my plate in front of me, the eggs wobbling with poached perfection, the sauce just starting to dribble down the crusts of the bread, and an unannounced garnish of a mint leaf set in the middle.

“Thanks, Mum,” I said, already picking up my knife and fork as she smiled her acknowledgement and returned her attention to Stef’s serving. Me? I’d already set to work on clearing my plate and was little more than just about at the end of my first egg when Mum called ‘Clear!’ once more, and this time it was Stef who was gifted with the breakfast of the gods.

“Thanks, Mum,” she echoed as she too set about devouring her breakfast with great delight.

Mum knew us well, knew how much we loved her Eggs Benedict, so sensibly she didn’t try to talk to us until our plates were clean and we were drinking our drinks, tea for me and a black-no-sugar Mandheling for Stef. “So what are you two planning for today? Something healthy and outdoors?” she asked.

I looked over at Stef. I hadn’t really given it much thought, and by the look on her face, neither had she.

“Luke? What about your friends?” Mum asked.

“Uhm, they’re kind of not around. Either holidays or family things or whatever, but they’ve all got out of Dodge,” I said, it not being uncommon for families to take a couple of weeks out of town once the holidaymakers began to arrive. Tourist money’s great, but tourists? Not so much.

“Stef?” Mum asked.

“Same thing.”

“What about Leri?” Mum asked, Leri being Stef’s eternal best friend and also the hottest cutest girl on the planet. Yeah, I may have noticed.

“She and Poli are down somewhere in England for a third cousin’s marriage, and they’re making a little break of it.”

Mum shook her head. “So it’s a lovely sunny day, and all you can do is spend time doing what? Luke? Playing on your X-Box? Stef? Shopping?”

Stef shook her head. “Actually, I was planning on doing some sunbathing...”

Mum smiled indulgently. “Not wanting to be pale for fresher’s week?”

Stef smiled, caught with her hand in the biscuit tin.

“Luke?” Mum asked.

“Uhm, I’ve my books from Saturday...”

Mum sighed. “Oh where did we go wrong with you two? Are you ever going to have a rebellious phase?” she asked. Stef and I avoided making eye contact as Mum continued. “Please tell me you’ll at least keep your sister company and read them in the garden so you each have some human contact? The fresh air will do you good, and she may get the sudden urge to plait your hair...”

“Sure ... uhm... what?” I said as I realised what else Mum had said other than something about the garden. In my defence, I was distracted by the thought that Mum didn’t think we were rebellious, a novel idea given what Stef and I were up to when no-one else was about. Also, when Mum had told me to spend the day in the garden as Stef sunbathed in one of her bikinis, my mind’s eye had distracted me with images of Stef in that really small bikini she’d bought on Sunday, the one I was pretty sure Mum didn’t know about.

Mum laughed. “Serves you right for not paying attention, Son. And now, I really do have to go. Stef, you’re in charge, Luke, you’re her pet, and I’ll see you both tonight. Oh, and don’t forget to pay for your breakfasts,” Mum said, our ‘payment’ being the cleaning up afterwards.

“Okay, thanks for breakfast,” I said as Mum left, still smiling at her jokes at my expense.

“Bye, Mum,” Stef echoed as Mum quit the kitchen, her reward being a wave of the hand as the door closed.

It was not more than a handful of moments later that the sound of her car starting up confirmed that Stef and I were now alone.

“Want me to clear up?” I asked as Stef sipped what I took to be the last of her coffee.

“You expecting me to say no, Babes?”

I laughed. “Okay, Sis, I kinda walked into that, didn’t I?” Stef arched her left eyebrow, which I took to mean ‘you’re speaking rhetorically, right?’, so I continued. “Soo, I’ll do the dishes and stuff, and you’ll... ?”

“Get into a bikini and onto the lawn.”

I looked up at the clock. 8:20am.

“Uhm, isn’t that a bit early?”

“Yoga until the sun pops over the fence?” Stef explained.

“Ah.”

“Buut ... we going to strip later or now... ?” Stef asked as she grinned at me across the kitchen table, her eyebrow daring me to make the obvious choice.

“Huh?” I said, the height of wit.

“You don’t want a quick look at my itty bitty titties?” she pouted, quite the achievement since she was obviously trying hard not to laugh at the same time, something not helped by her pulling the fabric of her tee taut over her chest for emphasis.

I guess she thought I might have forgotten how they looked or something.

I don’t think I looked too long.

“Stef, we both know that’s not true,” I said. “But, uhm, I just didn’t expect...”

“Ah, the unexpected titty? Always the best kind,” Stef grinned as she lifted the corner of her tee to reveal her right boob, small, tanlined, with a mole just where her cleavage would be, and utterly perfect.

As she paused for a dramatic moment, looked to me, down to her boob, and back to me again, grinning. “Ah, I see the problem, they tend to come in pairs...” she ‘explained’ as lifted the other side of her tee to reveal both boobs, complete with what looked for all the world to me like hardening nipples.

“Hmm, maybe you can’t see them clearly enough?” she suggested as she wiggled her chest a little before she lifted her tee up over her head and off, carefully folding it up and placing it on the kitchen table.

I sat there, dumbfounded.

Here I was, sat in the kitchen, with my slightly older sister sitting in front of me, happily naked, and happy to be naked in front of me. I had no idea how my life had so suddenly come to be like this, but I kinda hoped it wouldn’t stop any time soon.

“Wow,” I gasped.

Stef smiled.

But even as I was trying hard not to look too much at her boobs, I remembered that you always have to pay the piper. “Uhm, you’re expecting me to strip as well, right?”

“Uh-huh, Luke,” she said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You know The Rules, you get to see mine, so I get to see yours. That’s how it works you know,” she said, The Rules being how we played our games of ‘doctor and patient’ when we were younger.

“Says... ?”

“Says the person in charge ... who is me!” Stef grinned as she sat up, arms akimbo, with such an air of comic determination that I had to laugh. She moved so fast her boobs even wobbled a little, doing nothing to help impress her ‘anger’ at me.

God she looked incredible. It was all I could do not just to just sit and stare–

“Oh well, maybe this can motivate you... ?” she said, teasing me for my lack of response as she got off her stool and stood to the side of the table, giving me a full and clear view of her, naked as she was born.

I think I remembered to blink just before my eyeballs dried out.

Finally I looked up ... and right into Stef’s laughing smile.

“Uhm, you planned this? Flashing your siolen when Mum wasn’t looking, flashing the rest now?” I asked, trying to delay the inevitable.

Stef put her finger to her chin. “Let me see, big T, nothing under it except me and some ideas about what to do about that ... so that’s a yes. Wanted to, planned to, and now, erm, did do. Soo, I’ve shown you mine, and we both know you’ve looked and enjoyed, and now...” she said, her arched eyebrow and wiggling finger telling me the piper needed his coin.

What could I do?

Plus, after yesterday, it felt much easier to do what I was about to do as I got down from my stool. “Okay, Sis, you win,” I said as I pulled off my tee, pulled my sleeping shorts down over my erection, and stood there as naked as she was.

As I looked back up to Stef’s face I saw her almost child-like happiness, and that her attention was about a hand’s span down from my bellybutton.

I smiled.

Given how I found her pussy equally distracting, I could hardly be cross with her for being distracted in her own way, now could I?

Finally, she looked up, saw how I had been waiting for her as she had waited for me, and shrugged; nothing needed to be said. “Wow, Luke, erm, is it always hard?”

“Hmm, let me see, naked, in front of you, and you, hot, and also naked? Yeah, it’s always gonna be hard.”

“Cool. Like Dad was last night then, huh?” she said offhandedly, sounding as if I should know what she was talking about.

“Like Dad ... uhm what?” I asked, not daring to imagine what Stef was talking about.

“Oh, did you go to sleep early, then?” Stef asked as though this mattered.

“About ten-ish, why?”

“Oh, I was still up and reading on my e-book reader, you know, the back-light one so that I don’t need my bedroom light on? I guess Mum and Dad must have decided we were both asleep, as it was just after eleven when I heard the music start to come from Mum’s and Dad’s room.”

“The music... oh... “

Stef giggled. “Uh-huh. Mum and Dad were doing the nasty, and on a Monday too.”

The nasty? I knew what she meant, of course, but for Stef to come flat out and say that what Mum and Dad had been doing? Eww.

“And what’s wrong with a Monday?” I asked, clueless about why that was so important, all the while desperately trying not to think about Mum and Dad ‘doing the nasty’.

“You don’t know?”

I shook my head.

“Oh Luke, sooo innocent,” Stef sighed. “Okay, so I figured this out a long time ago, because, well, with my room next to theirs, it’s hard not to hear when the jazz comes on.

“Anyway, it works like this. I get to listen to some Radio Jazz most Saturday nights, or sometimes Sundays, and then Tuesdays and either Thursdays or Fridays. Basically, every time they ‘do it’, they ‘do it’ again a couple of days later unless it’s something like their anniversary, and every time they ‘do’ they play jazz to cover what they’re doing. Of course, it actually tells me exactly what they’re doing, but I guess they haven’t figured that part out.

“Well, last night was not supposed to be a sex night, but they still ‘did it’ and they took a long time too, more like twenty minutes, not ten. No, I didn’t time it, it’s just I know Dad’s jazz playlist by now, and it was just getting into a third song before they were done,” Stef said, impressed but also obviously a little surprised that they had kept going for so long. Me? I had no real way of knowing what was quick and what wasn’t, but if she said they’d taken twenty minutes instead of their usual ten, then that must mean they hadn’t been ‘quick’.

“Oh. My. God,” I Shatnered, unable to process that my parents were still having such frequent sex at their age, and that Stef knew all about it, so much so that she’d figured out their timetable. “How long have you known all of this?”

Stef flushed. Hard. “Erm, since I was twelve, I guess. That’s when I first figured out what was happening...”

“But you said they always have the music on... ?” I asked.

Stef chewed her bottom lip a little. “Erm, oh-kay, Little Brother. Time to enter into Adult Land. Don’t look so worried, it’s kind of fun most of the time, and now you’ve finally turned eighteen it is kind of time for it.

“Before we get into it, though, if you tell anyone this, I will find a really creative death for you. Slow, painful, the kind of thing that’s impressive. Got it?

“Good.

“So anyway, at first all I was doing was listening to the music, trying to see if I recognised the tracks like you do when you overhear someone’s music on their buds on the bus, but then in the gaps between the songs, erm, well, I could hear more, you know, stuff that was not the jazz.”

“You’re kidding!?” I gasped, a sudden brainstorm causing me to ask for more details about something I didn’t want to think about. At all. Ever. “You heard them... ?”

Stef grinned. “No, not kidding. When I was younger, I just worried a little that Mum was okay, you know, from the sounds ... but she was always happy the next day, really happy most of the time, so I guessed it was nothing to worry about.

“Oh yeah, like happy enough that we got Eggs Benedict for breakfast, that kind of happy.

“Haha, and from that face I know you’d not put those two pieces together until now. Applies to pancakes, too.

“Anyway, then we did Those Classes and it all fell into place and I realised I’d been listening to Mum and Dad having sex!

“At first, once I figured that out, I tried not to listen ... but after a while I got curious, so I listened more, even staying awake on the nights I figured out they’d probably be having sex.”

Stef paused a moment. “Oh-kay. I’m going to tell you something, but this just between us, and Babes, if I ever hear anything about it, from Mum, from Dad, from anyone, and even from you, well, just remember that I know where you sleep, right?”

“Sis, I wouldn’t-”

“I know, but I just want you to know, this is a Thing That Matters. I’m trusting you, Luke; this could hurt me a lot if anyone found out.”

“So don’t tell me,” I suggested.

Stef shook her head. “I kind of need to tell you, so you understand how I know what I can hear. Thing is, I learned that those sounds were the sounds Mum and Dad make when they have sex because when I listened and it got me thinking and I started to ‘play the two finger shuffle’ I made little noises like Mum does, and I even found out that if I listen as I ‘play’ that when I ‘finish playing’ it’s usually more intense than when I ‘play solo’,” she said, her upper chest again flushed as brightly as her face.

“Y-you mean you listen to them ... you listen and as you listen, you... ?” I asked, unable to ask the question out loud.

Stef nodded.

Oh. My. God.

I’d done Those Classes too, and as part of Those Classes we’d been taught that everyone does things for themselves so I guess I kinda knew that she must do it, but until that moment I hadn’t known that she did, and now she’d told me, and then some.

“TMI?” Stef asked as she cocked her head to one side.

I smiled weakly. “Kinda. I mean, it’s a lot to take in one go, that Mum and Dad ... and that you...”

Stef smiled compassionately. “It’s sex, Luke. They have it. I have it on my own, and you’ve kind of confirmed you do too, you know, the whole sock thing?”

Instantly I felt my face heat up.

It must have been impressive, as Stef giggled. “Wow! With all that blood in your face, and that thing down there still pointing at me, you sure you’ve got enough blood pressure to be standing here?”

“Honestly, Sis, probably not...”

“Aw, poor Luke. Your world’s changing a lot, huh?”

I nodded, and as I did Stef pulled me forwards a little and briefly kissed me on the lips. Before I could respond, she separated us as she said, “Then that will do. For now. So, you and me, trunks and bikini, sunbathing until lunch?”

“Sure, I guess,” I said, somewhat confused over Stef’s shifting moods and still trying to come to terms with the idea that our parents had sex, and quite a lot of it. I mean sure, we knew they had to have done it in the past, that was how we got here, but to know they did it so often, still, was quite a thing.

And both of them deep into their forties, too.

“See you out there. I’ll bring the towels, you bring drinks and snacks,” Stef said as she turned and almost literally skipped away in the direction of the kitchen door. For a moment she paused as she looked back over her shoulder and added. “Oh, and Luke?”

“Sis?”

“Stop looking at my bum!” she said as she lightly patted her left cheek for distracting emphasis before vanishing upstairs.

Wow!

What was going on?

This time last week I’d had nothing more complicated in my life than wondering what to buy with the money I’d had for my birthday, and the most I knew about sex was my sister looked hot and that I liked it when I got chance to peek down her top.

Now?

I knew things about my parents and my sister that I’d never thought about, and never imagined I’d ever know about.

Ever.

Heaving a dramatic sigh for nobody’s attention but my own, I set about doing the dishes and the cleaning before I headed upstairs where I exchanged full-frontal nudity for something I felt only slightly less revealing as I pulled on my new camo swim briefs over my finally abated erection. Next I headed back to the kitchen, phone in hand, where I packed an ice bucket with cans of pop, added a few cereal snack bars and a couple of Stef’s protein bars into a little cooler bag, and went outside.

Of course, with all the time I’d spent cleaning and getting ready Stef was out there already, her ‘need’ for tanning overcoming her ‘feminine’ dressing time as Dad called it. When Stef had said ‘bikini’ I’d expected her to be wearing her skimpiest outfit, but instead she’d elected for a modest Brazilian ensemble in eggshell blue that covered more than many. No, I don’t know much about clothing but yes, I know disproportionately more about bikini styles. It’s a teen-aged boy thing, okay.

Anyway, Stef had set up her yoga mat on top of her beach towel just where the sun was beginning to shine down, and she must have gone through her warm-ups already as she was doing one of those impossible stretches where she was sitting down, legs straight out, and was leaning forwards to hold her feet in her hands.

“Hey,” I said as I put the things out, drinks and snacks in a shaded spot that should stay that way at least until lunchtime.

“Hey,” Stef said. “I’ll be about twenty,” she added, so I sat down cross-legged – the height of my flexibility – as I got out my book and promptly lost myself in 1950s sf visions of the future, flying cars and all.

Time passed.

I was six chapters in when I saw out the corner of my eye that Stef was doing something like a ‘plank’ that she kept bending in the middle – her spine? – until she was in what looked like the ‘crab’ to me, and then she rolled out of it, right into a pose like mine, and grinned. “Hey! Good book?” she asked, breathing a bit hard, certainly harder than I’d’ve expected from a ‘stretching session’ as I had called her yoga.

Once.

Ouch!

“Not sure. Very dated, but interesting. Uhm, good yoga? And, is that the way to ask it?”

Stef chuckled. “No, it’s not the way, just ‘good session’ I think, and yeah, I feel really relaxed.”

“Relaxed?”

“Yes, relaxed. Sleeping and cycling and flashing my Little Brother don’t make me relaxed the way a session of yoga does. Plus it keeps me bendy.”

“Ah,” I said. I wasn’t quite sure why being bendy was a good thing, but if she thought so, I wasn’t going to argue it.

“So, what do you think, Babes? You think the neighbours can see us here?” Stef asked as she shielded her eyes from the morning sun and scanned the neighbours’ houses through the foliage that intervened, Dad having planted a box hedge of laurel close to the house, once, for no reason that anyone could understand and that Mum loved teasing him about every year as he trimmed it. Repeatedly.

“Don’t think so, plus aren’t they all out to work?” I asked.

“Oh I do hope so,” said Stef as she reached behind her back, unfastened the clasp, and took off her bikini bra. Before I could say anything or unswallow my tongue, she rolled backwards and wriggled out of her bikini panties and folded them neatly beside her as she sat again, tailor style. “Ta-da!”

What else could I do? I applauded.

“Erm, aren’t you a bit uncomfortable?” Stef asked.

“Uncomfortable?”

“Oh, you know, sitting there, in those shorts, looking at me, not in my bikini, even rolling back and flashing my little pussy at you...”

She had a point.

Watching her finish her yoga had been impressive, but watching her get naked had impressed me in whole other ways. I didn’t know she could see, not the way I was sitting, but it seemed she could.

“Et tu, Brute?” I asked.

“You know what that means?”

“Uhm, me too?” I asked, weakly.

“Nuh-huh, it means ‘even you’, but in this case you mean it to mean ‘me too’ and the answer is yes, stripping off time again.”

I shrugged, rolled onto my side, wriggled out, and rolled back up again, folding my shorts up as I did so.

“Better?” Stef asked.

“Less ... pressure,” I said.

“Really? It doesn’t look like it’s lost any ‘pressure’ to me,” Stef said with eyebrow emphasis.

“You’re an inspiration!”

Stef sniggered. “Haha. Soo, Babes, you want to look some more at my bum?” she asked as she rocked herself from side to side, as though I couldn’t remember where her bum was.