Chapter 3

Fast forward nineteen years.

I made some phone calls and answered some emails. I could hear splashing from the pool area, but I figured Meggie needed some privacy so I just kept working. I hadn’t seen her head out, so I figured she’d gone through the sliding doors in my room. I was thankful that the Marines had turned me into a neatnik. Wouldn’t want my little sis to think I was a slob.

In about half an hour Meg came into my office wrapped in a bath towel.

“Did you order the pizza yet?”

“Just about to. You want to do it? The menu is on the fridge.”

“Oh, I know what I want ... everything but anchovies!”

“Sounds good to me. Leave off the broccoli, though.”

“Ick!”

Meg padded barefoot into the kitchen, made the call, and then came back into the office.

“Do you have a hair dryer, Jack?”

“In the drawer next to the sink in your bathroom.”

“Aha! Have a girlfriend who sleeps over?”

“Nope, no girlfriend. Just for whomever.”

“Oh, of course! A girlfriend wouldn’t be in the guest room anyway.”

“Go get pretty ... prettier ... Meggie. See you when you get back.”

“Aye-aye, Sergeant Jack!”

“That’s ‘Master Sergeant Jack’ to you, kid!”

Meg stuck out a surprisingly long, pink tongue, then flounced off down the hall.

The pizza arrived. I paid and tipped the kid, then got out plates and napkins and put them on the breakfast table in the kitchen.

“Soup’s on, Sis!”

“Coming!”

Meghan came into the kitchen barefoot, and still in her swimsuit, a very skimpy bikini. The triangular top – some shiny, stretchy material – was secured around her neck and cradled her small breasts, showing off their modest curves and erect nipples to great advantage. The bottom, cut low, displayed the bulge of her pubic mound and spanned narrow hips that were prevented from looking thin by their contrast with her tiny waist. The clingy material made for an obvious cameltoe. Meghan is short-waisted, with long thighs and calves: legs ‘all the way up to her armpits’, as they say. Put simply, my sis was – and still is – a little red fox! I hadn’t seen her in a swimsuit during her adolescent years, and the new Meggie was a pleasant surprise. I guess it showed.

She grinned. “Not quite the skinny little kid you remembered, Jack?”

She twirled, showing off the Brazilian cut panty that displayed her petite bubble butt to great advantage. Meghan was a teenage boy’s wet dream, and a 42-year-old Marine dick was suddenly at half-mast.

I looked up at her face, now perfectly made up and framed by ginger curls cut in what I presumed was still called a pageboy. “Not quite! In fact, Little Sis, you’re absolutely gorgeous!”

“You’re just saying that ‘cause I was feeling down and you’re my brother.”

“You know better than that, Meg. It takes more confidence that that just to TRY ON that bikini!”