Chapter 3

After the wholesome lunch had been digested, they went downstairs for a sparring match that left Dave duly impressed. Veronica's technique was sharp, and she had proven herself quite capable in the art. In fact, her pace had been furious, which was why he was grateful when she suggested a soak in the heated whirlpool after practice. This in itself wouldn't have been any reason to be nervous, but she had also added the words 'clothing optional' with a wink and a grin.

He was pleased to see Veronica's surprised look at his obvious nudity under the blurry water.

"Wow, I didn't think you'd actually do it," she said, as she tugged at the belt of a luxurious bathrobe that she had wrapped tightly enough around herself to display the contours of her body.

Dave shrugged. "I didn't pack swimming trunks."

"You always have an answer ready, don't you?"

"I have been accused of being a wise-ass."

Veronica raised a challenging eyebrow. "Really? In that case you won't have any trouble voicing your opinion on what you think of this!"

She promptly disrobed and twirled around, revealing her fantastic form to him. The white bathing-suit's neckline was so high that there was no cleavage, but in the back it almost went down to her lower back. The leg apertures were high cut, making her already endless looking legs seem even longer, and as far as he could determine her body was trim without sacrificing any curves.

"Well?" she prompted after a few seconds, since Dave had been too awestruck to react. Her words snapped him out of it.

"You look like one of my favourite Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue models."

Veronica raised an eyebrow and shot him a sceptical look. "You shouldn't tell all the women you see in a swimsuit or lingerie that they have the body of Rachel Hunter with slightly bigger boobs. There's a chance that they know each other, and if they talk about you and find out your compliments come from a limited repertoire, you have a problem."

"Is there anything Iris didn't tell you?" Dave asked, feeling slightly unsettled about the ease with which Iris had volunteered information about him.

"Women always talk about their men, Dave. That's why you need to keep your compliments varied. If an ex-girlfriend of yours is a friend or even a friend of a friend—"

"I get it," Dave interrupted. "But I wasn't going to say you looked like Rachel Hunter. I said you look like one of my favourite Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue models, implying that I have more than one."

"Okay, smarty-pants. Which one's body do I have?"

"Ashley Richardson's, although you're a tad ... firmer ... all over, and you have a better butt," he answered, noticing the heightened muscle definition in Veronica's arms and legs, and back. She couldn't be classified as muscular, which Dave didn't find attractive at all. But he could just discern the long, lean and sculpted muscles rise, roll and undulate as she moved. She had found the perfect aesthetic balance of fitness and feminine softness.

Veronica laughed. "You do prefer the ones with more curves, don't you? But how could you possibly know Ashley Richardson? Her career peaked a while ago. Before you were interested in girls."

"Her career might not have been at its peak, but the 1993 Swimsuit Issue was plenty of exposure for me. She should've been in the Dream Team issue too, in my humble opinion, but I guess my taste isn't mainstream enough. I'm glad she came back for this year's issue, though. Too bad it'll probably be the last time."

"Taste is highly subjective," Veronica conceded, as she stepped into the tub and lowered herself into one of the seats where she could recline. Then she waved him over. "Come sit next to me. I won't bite," she added teasingly.

"Maybe not, but I might poke you," Dave said. He had meant to tease her back, but he immediately realised that 'poking' was one of the more vulgar euphemisms for sexual intercourse. "Damn, that came out wrong."

"Take it easy. I was a sexual therapist, remember? I'm used to erections poking me, both externally and internally," Veronica said in a reassuring tone. "But if you're more comfortable with some distance between us, I'll just come to the corner opposite you."

She rose from the water, astounding Dave swimsuit that was now virtually transparent. He saw that she had a uniform tan all over her body, and that her full breasts were remarkably firm and as symmetrical as natural boobs could get, with aureoles the size of large coins and nipples roughly the size and shape of gum drops his mother always decorated the gingerbread house with at Christmas. Then, as his gaze slid further south, the soaked suit now clinging to her body revealed her flat, lightly sculpted stomach. Finally, he saw a trimmed and partially shaved pubic area with the remaining hair shaped like an Ankh. The combined image was enough to make Dave's cock incredibly stiff.

"No tan lines?" Dave asked, trying to sound casual and relaxed as he fought to slow down his racing pulse. "Do you tan in the nude?"

"I haven't tanned in years. In fact, I've done my best to protect myself from the sun since before you were born. You're seeing my complexion at its lightest. Dad might be of Viking stock, but you shouldn't forget that Mom's from the Louisiana melting pot. She's three eighths African, three eighths Native American, and only one quarter European descent."

Dave blinked. Although he knew that he had African and Native American blood on his mother's side of the family, he had always assumed that his great-grandmother's deep bronze colour stemmed mostly from the fact that she had had become an avid sun worshipper after retiring to the Caribbean. "But in the old pictures she had red hair! How can someone who is one quarter white have red hair?"

"Actually, it was auburn, and it is possible because both her maternal and paternal white great-grandfathers had red hair. It's a long shot, since red hair is recessive, and she's the only one among six siblings to have it. Anyway, I'm glad to be three sixteenths black. I doubt that I'd have had these lovely round buttocks if that hadn't been the case. I personally think they're my best feature. What do you think?"

"That's a tough question to answer. You really don't have any flaws. If I imagine you with a flat butt, you're still more attractive than most women. Same thing goes for imagining you with a flat chest."

"What if you had to choose between boobs or butt?" Veronica insisted.

Dave though about it for a good thirty seconds before answering, "Then I'd have to go for boobs. But not because I find boobs nicer to look at," he added quickly.

"Then why?"

"Impatience."

"Impatience?"

Dave nodded. "Under normal circumstances you can start licking and kissing a woman's boobs right away."

"Ah, and the rectal area always needs some preparation."

"Exactly!" Dave said, pleased that Veronica had caught on so easily.

Veronica sighed. "Well, I'd be more than happy to exchange my D-cups for C-cups. Do you know how hard it is to find a good sports bra for women my size?"

Dave grinned. "I've heard Mom complain about it. Iris too," he continued, feeling warm and tingly all over for reasons that had nothing to do with being immersed in a heated spa. "She's on three school sports teams, so she really needs them."

"Oh dear, you two really are in love!" Veronica exclaimed delightedly.

"Of course," Dave said. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"I meant that your feelings for each other go way beyond the standard crush. That's why it's really important for the two of you to keep communicating. You need to make sure it works out, or at least make sure that you remain friendly if it doesn't. Because the main drawback of romances between close relatives is that you can't break off all contact. You can have an ex-lover, but not an ex-relative."

Even the brief contemplation on the possibility of not having Iris in his life filled Dave with dread.

His faced must have shown it because Veronica reached over to squeeze his knee. "If the two of you hook up after college and your relationship goes through a rough patch you think you need help with, you can call me anytime."

"You really don't think it's weird, then? Me and Iris, I mean."

"It wouldn't be the first time in this family. You've been told about my younger brother and my eldest sister's daughter, right?"

"Clark and Lunaria? Yeah, Iris told me."

"Well, what Iris doesn't know is that Lunaria is the second niece that my little brother fucked. Angelica was the first."

"What? Mom?" Dave exclaimed, completely blown away.

"Is that so strange? Mike and Viola lived with my parents in their hotel and helped run it until Dad got a good offer for it and decided to cash out. Angie was Clark's girl next door. They played together in the hotel, and they were very close. But not close enough for the Westermarck effect to become a factor, of course."

"The what?"

"Westermarck effect. Westermarck was a Finnish philosopher, sociologist and anthropologist who hypothesized that the aversion to sexual relations between siblings stemmed from the fact that they were raised within the same household. His theory is supported by studies done by Spiro and Fox in Israel, which proved that the children within the same age group, raised like siblings in kibbutzim, found each other sexually uninteresting. There was also a study done by Wolf and Huang in Taiwan, where future brides of boys were raised with the groom's family from a very early age. The study revealed that those marriages proved notoriously difficult to consummate. Basically the Westermarck effect is the opposite of genetic sexual attraction. That's an attraction between parents and children, or siblings, who are either unaware of or recently found out about their kinship."