Beaches and Cream Page 3

  “Hello darling!” Veronica called as she waved to Tia.

  Tia reclined on a chaise longue beside the pool. And she was unashamedly naked. She had already begun to bronze in the late afternoon sun, and every inch of her body glistened with oily sun cream. I felt a guilty pang of delight to think that the provocative hands of Tia’s own mother had made me look very similar only a couple of hours earlier. A broad smile sprang to Tia’s face as she sat up and waved to her mother and me.

  I sauntered down the stairs; Tia’s smile infecting mine.

  “You’ve been gone for ages! Did you have fun?”

  I found myself trying to concentrate on her face, rather than her vulnerable body. But Tia felt no such shame, and made no effort to cover up as I approached.

  “So much fun,” I said. “The beach was beautiful. You should have come.”

  “Are you hungry, girls?” Veronica called from the veranda. She’d changed into an emerald green sunpiece—a one piece, wrap-around sarong with a halter neck top that crossed over her breasts and tied behind her neck.

  Tia inclined her head, and I stole a jealous look at her taut, athletic body.

  “I’m still a little bit full from lunch,” she answered. And I shook my head.

  “Alright, girls. I’ll make something a little bit later on. I’m very hot from the car, so I’m going to read in the garden.”

  “Ok!” we called in unison.

  “So how was it?” Tia asked, returning her attention to me.

  I opted not to tell Tia about her mother’s expert hands, and the effect they’d had on me.

  “It was gorgeous, T. I couldn’t believe how late it was when we left. It felt like no time passed at all. The sea was so warm, we must have swam for over an hour. We walked on the beach. And we talked a lot. Your mother is so incredibly nice.”

  I lowered my voice as Veronica reached the pool tier, so she wouldn’t hear me singing her praises like some sort of creepy, star-struck simpleton.

  “Yeah,” Tia said. And we smiled at Veronica, watching her smooth, bare back and broad hips sashay down the stairs to the garden below. “Yeah,” Tia said again. “She is.”

  “So what did you talk about?”

  “Just, you know, talked. Talked about my mother. About me. About your father….”

  “What about my father?” Tia demanded, suddenly defensive.

  “Nothing bad!” I countered. “She said he was a good guy!”

  “He is a good guy!” Tia said sulkily. “Did you talk about your father, by any chance?”

  “My father?” I asked, confused. “Why would we talk about him?”

  Down below, Veronica untied her halter neck and slipped out of her sunpiece. She must have removed her swimsuit in the house, for she too was quite naked underneath. She stretched herself out on a chaise longue, adjusted her sun hat, and opened her book.

  Tia stole a look to her mother in the garden below, before casting her eyes down. “You know….”

  “No, Tia. I don’t.”

  ”You really don’t know, Mand?”

  “Tia!”

  “Ok!.... I just…..thought you knew. My mother and your father used to…..well….they used to….have fun together. My mother, she….she left your dad…..for my dad.” She smiled embarrassedly. “We were almost sisters. I thought that was old news.”

  Tia put a gentle hand up to my chin. I realised my mouth had dropped open in surprise.

  “Veronica’s had sex with my dad!” I hissed. “How is it that everyone knows this but me?”

  “Don’t blame me, Mand! I just thought you didn’t want to talk about it. And anyway, if you didn’t know….maybe Margaret still doesn’t.”

  I wouldn’t have expected Tia to lie to me. She never did and that’s why I loved her. But right now I was finding the truth a little bit overwhelming. Perhaps this was why my mother was so hostile toward this family. But then if my mother didn’t know, I could never ask her. And then if she did know, what was she so angry about? She would never have met my dad if Veronica hadn’t left him. And then there was my burgeoning affection for Veronica. She was a lovely, remarkable woman. So why was I so outraged that my father had good taste?

  “That’s just….. It’s just…..That’s not what I expected you to say!”

  In the garden, Veronica had sat up to apply sun cream to the newly exposed parts of her body that had been covered on the beach. She applied the lotion to her belly. Her hands followed the curve out to her hips, then dipped down between her legs to cream her inner thighs. It felt rude to watch a completely naked woman tend to herself so intimately, applying the cream, indifferently gliding past the neatly trimmed delta of her sex. She administered the cream beneath her ample bosoms, before taking the heavy flesh, rolling and lubricating first one breast and then the other. At times her hands, and even her forearms, disappeared in the deep, fleshy valley of her cleavage, as she squeezed and kneaded the heavy, malleable, rolling expanse right out to her nipples. Then up and around her neck, with the same tenderness she’d applied to me.

  “C’mon, Mand! Don’t scowl at Mum like that! It’s not her fault. Your dad had something to do with it too!”

  Hopefully Tia hadn’t seen me startle. I hadn’t realised I was staring. And if I was scowling, it was only against the sun. My actual thoughts, despite what I’d just heard, were much softer and more than a little salacious.

  “Mand?” Veronica called from below. I was glad Tia had shaken me from my hypnosis, before the hypnotist herself had. I looked back to Veronica.

  “Come in to the garden for a moment, please.”

  I raised an eyebrow to Tia, but I went downstairs to Veronica without hesitation.

  As I arrived, Veronica smiled at me quizzically from beneath her sun hat. I became suddenly nervous, wondering if she’d been listening to every word we’d said, and to my exasperation at her dalliances with my own father. It immediately annoyed me that I was nervous. She should be explaining herself to me! I braced myself for an awkward confrontation.

  “Veronica I…..”

  “Sorry, Mand. I don’t mean to smirk. It’s just odd to see you fully clothed. It’s like you’re wearing a cocktail dress at a pyjama party,” she laughed. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t laugh. I told you, you can wear exactly want you want. And that hasn’t changed. That’s most unfair of me.” She held out the bottle of sun cream. “Can you do my back? I don’t want to burn.”

  I felt the blood rush in my ears as relief, annoyance, and excitement all rolled together. She hadn’t heard us at all. She only needed some sun cream on her back. But who was she to tell me how much or how little I should be wearing? She wanted me to do her a favour, yet chose to make fun of me at the same time! Still, even as I flushed with annoyance, I felt a twinge in the pit of my stomach as I thought about touching Veronica as intimately as she’d touched me. I took the bottle wordlessly from her, unable to tell if my rapidly increasing heartbeat was due to anger or desire.

  She rose and her breasts swayed pendulously. She scooped up the heavy flesh and collected her boobs in her arms, arranging them comfortably beneath her as she stretched out on her tummy. She laid her head on her hands and closed her eyes.

  “Be sure to get every bit, Mand.”

  I coated my palms with lotion and reached out greedily for Veronica’s ample flesh. I worked my way up from the small of her back in small circles. She felt warm and strong and vibrant in my hands. Her skin became smoother with every touch, making it easier for me to knead and glide over her body in long, fluid strokes.

  “That’s wonderful….” she sighed.

  I crossed my hand strokes. From the centre of her back and out to the left with my right hand; then from the centre of her back and out to the right with my left hand. My hands curved round her, traversing from her narrower waist and working my way up as she grew th
icker. My hands continued sliding and curving upwards. It was impossible not to graze her ample bosoms, spilling out beneath her, as I glazed her sides.

  I looked up to Tia to see if she found this unusual. But she had turned back to recline in the sunshine.

  “Be a good girl and do my bum, Mand,” Veronica said softly.

  She hadn’t asked me. She had told me. But I paused. Wondering if she’d required the same of my father in his time. She didn’t make herself easy to resist. I clearly found her inexorably bewitching and effortlessly seductive. I couldn’t blame a man—any man—for falling under her spell.

  “….Just while you’re there,” she added.

  Her bottom was wide and round. I would need more cream. Another lubricious handful and her buttocks were in my hands. I tried to take one in each hand, but she was far too ample for that. I concentrated on first one cheek, working the fluid up from her thighs and over the fleshy hill that rolled and undulated in my little hands. First one. Then the other. My hands drifting, polite but insatiably curious, into the deep, smooth cleft between the two heavy hills. I hoped I would be this beautiful and voluptuous when I was Veronica’s age. Almost regretfully, I realised that I’d coated her completely and would soon have to stop. I took one final stroke, down from the small of her back, down over her buttocks, squeezing as I went, until my thumbs nestled between her thighs, only centimeters from her pretty pink pussy, just barely visible.

  She drew in a sharp breath. I stopped, thinking that I had played too irreverently. But then she laughed her low, deep laugh.

  “Thank you, Mand,” she said, not opening her eyes. “That will do.”

  And like that, I was dismissed.

  “That’s ok.” I rose reluctantly, and ascended the stairs back to the pool.

  “What did she want?” Tia asked lazily.

  “She just needed some sun block on her back.”

  “Oh, right,” Tia said indifferently. She yawned and stretched as she spoke—the muscles of her little body tightening as she did so. “It’s so nice out here, Mand. Why don’t you pull up a lounger?”

  I looked at Tia, her eyes closed, head turned away from me. One arm thrown carelessly above her head, her legs slightly parted. Her body was completely smooth. Her sex hairless and bare, as seemed to be so fashionable. The pink, plump outer lips of her pussy looked delicate and vulnerable without even a whisper of hair to secrete or protect them.

  My gaze drifted over the balustrade to Veronica below. Lazily and carelessly naked, newly glistening with sun cream, in similar repose to Tia, one hand behind her head, the other holding a book in front of her face, her ankles crossed. Mother and daughter reflecting each other across a generation. Beautiful and statuesque in confidence and comfort. Veronica had no right to make me feel self-conscious for being the only one who wasn’t naked. As if I was doing something wrong by keeping my clothes on. And then she had the gall to fuck my father—although not in that order. It was an absolute outrage!

  In an act of pure defiance, I kicked off my shoes, my gaze searing into Veronica as I did so. I wriggled roughly out of my skirt and flung it aside. Pulled my t-shirt over my head, and snatched off my bikini top without even bothering to undo the knot at my neck. I stood, naked but for my bikini bottoms, my eyes burning through Veronica, willing her to see me. But her eyes remained focused on the book in front of her. With goose-bumps on my arms and the back of my neck prickling with angry heat, I had no other recourse but to dive indignantly and noisily into the pool. But even as the water closed over my head, I knew that the only person I was defying with my topless protest was myself.

  The next day I woke early. I’d slept fitfully and awoken suddenly, full of unanswerable questions about my father’s dalliance with Veronica. I could understand why. But why had no one told me? Why was it so secretive? Why was I the last to know?

  Yesterday’s topless protest had gone largely unnoticed by anyone but me. After I’d pulled my top off and jumped in the pool, I’d swum a few lengths before eventually mustering the courage to re-emerge into the air. Only to find Tia still luxuriating drowsily and Veronica more interested in her book than anything else. There’s nothing worse than staging a protest when no one’s looking. And so I decided I absolutely would not dive back into my bikini top until somebody—anybody—had seen that I’d taken it off in the first place. I’d sat on the edge of the pool dangling my feet in the cool water until Tia rolled over lazily, opened her eyes and smiled.

  With no recognition whatsoever that there was anything different about me, she said, “Oh, you’re still out. I thought you’d gone inside.”

  She shivered slightly and sat up.

  “It’s starting to cool off,” she’d said. “I’m gonna go in.”

  I don’t know what I was expecting. As if she, without a stitch of clothing on, should praise and commemorate me for baring my breasts. The only praise she appeared to give was to the dying sun. She stood, raising the palms of her hands high above her head, arching her back to give a full body stretch, standing on tiptoes and reaching toward the heavens. With a quick rub of her upper arms, she was off and up the stairs. Her naked bottom as strong and pert and lithe as it had been in her leggings.

  I looked down at my own breasts—the flesh white, nipples pink. Two tender, iridescent globes, while all around them my skin had turned the colour of honey. Why were my breasts so precious? Were they unworthy of the warmth and the light of the sun? I stayed there for another hour, actually enjoying the abandon—the abandon which my mother would have hated and found so shameful—until Veronica too climbed the stairs to go inside. She, like Tia, only smiled and made no mention whatsoever of my sartorial minimalism. With the departure of all potential audiences, I could no longer pretend I was waiting for acknowledgement or approval. What was more surprising was that I no longer wanted it. I raised my chin to the dying sun and thrust my bare breasts forward. The cooling breeze had already stiffened my nipples, causing them to pout petulantly in the air. They were undeniably proud, and really rather pretty. I hadn’t found an audience, but why should I need one? I seemed to have found something even better—Confidence.

  Still, that night I slept fitfully—my head swimming with carnal questions about Veronica and, slightly less comfortably, about my father. So I’d woken earlier than I’d intended. I descended to the pool and stood at the water’s edge, watching the orange light of the new sun spread across the hillside. With considerably less belligerence than the day before, I peeled off the t-shirt I’d slept in. I was delighted to find the sensation of the air on my skin as liberating as it had been yesterday. I looked up at the house. All was silent and still. I looked down at my body. Even the short time I’d spent in the last light of the sun had begun to turn my pale breasts tawny. I tugged the elastic waistband of my pajama pants down below my hips. The white band of skin, where my bikini had denied the sun, marked me like a brand of prudence. I pulled the loose fabric a bit lower, trying to peer round to my bottom where the pale flesh became more prominent. The difference was quite remarkable—and not altogether appealing.

  Another quick look back to the house. I slid the elastic fully over my bottom, and worked the shorts down my thighs, until the garment lost its tension and fell to my ankles. I stepped out of the shorts and stood fully naked outdoors for the first time. It felt wonderful. It felt exciting, refreshing, gloriously natural and yet undeniably sensual at the same time. All of my body was given to the air and the sun with nothing and nowhere to hide. I slipped into the pool and the water embraced me even more intimately than the air had. I floated and stroked through the water, just as I’d watched Tia do upon our arrival. The water felt completely new on my bare bottom, and deliciously rude between my legs as I scissored and stroked back and forth.

  I emerged dripping wet from the pool to find that the air had grown warmer. The only towels were still in the house, and I was reluctant to put dry clo
thes on my wet body. I’d be dry in a moment anyway, and the wait would allow me to enjoy my nudity just a little longer. I took a padded mattress from one of the sun loungers, pulled it into an enclave beneath the balustrade, out of view from the house, and stretched out happily as the sun crept over the trees.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Mand!”

  I awoke violently to the sound of Veronica’s voice, my heart suddenly racing. After a night in which I’d found it difficult to sleep, I’d drifted off almost immediately in the warmth and peace of the poolside. The sunlight seared into my sleepy eyes and I lifted my hand to shield them. Veronica strode toward me, also naked, out of the white-hot light. Her wide hips rolled and her heavy breasts bounced and swayed from side to side. She stopped at the small pile of my nightclothes, and her breasts came to rest not long thereafter. I sat bolt upright, drawing my knees to my chest.

  “I told you yesterday, Mand. The sun is very fierce out here. If you’re going to lie out, you absolutely must protect yourself!”

  “I….I didn’t mean…..I fell asleep.”

  “Oh, you must be more careful, Mand. Go to my bedroom vanity table, please, and get my sun cream. The Melonin, please. It’s all natural.

  I stood slowly. Veronica’s gaze remained fixed upon me. Her face was concerned and kind. But I’d never in my life felt more appraised and exposed. I moved toward her.

  “Ok, I’ll just pop into my….”

  “I’ll put these in the laundry, shall I,” she said, bending to collect my shorts and t-shirt. “I’m doing some washing later on.”

  I stopped, a few steps away from her, my arm partly extended, hoping she would extend her hand to me. But Veronica’s hand remained clamped around my clothes, her arms down at her sides. Even completely naked she was totally invulnerable. She inclined her chin and widened her eyes, as if waiting for me to say something more. When I did not, she tilted her head toward the house.