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bedroom from every window. I crossed the room, my bare toes squeezing into the plush rug that covered most of the centre. An L-shaped bend led from the bedroom to the en suite bathroom, and Veronica had established her vanity table in that enclave. In front of the vanity table sat two stools of clouded alabaster. The seats were shaped to suit a woman’s shapely bottom quite comfortably. The pieces were carved exquisitely, with gargoyles coupling rudely in every conceivable contortion in a never-ending chain all over and around the stone. As the carvings reached the seat, they dissipated into soft swirls that created shallow little hills and grooves over the surface.
    The vanity table itself was host to a surfeit of expensive lotions, creams, make-up and perfumes—all of things that kept Veronica looking and smelling so perpetually beautiful. In keeping with her chairs, she had a number of pieces of artwork adorning the table. Intricate pieces of smooth, hand-blown glass, moulded and twisted into tubes and ringlets, and swept through with rich colours and swirling designs adorned the tabletop. Some stood alone, while others had their own little stands to display them like rare oriental objects. Little jade tulip buds of varying sizes sprung up about the table in green, ivory, and black. I found the Melonin tucked away behind one of the glass pieces. I leant over to take it and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Two full-length mirrors flanked the table and I took a step to my left to look at myself completely.
    I took in the whole of my naked form. I don’t think I’d ever faced myself completely nude before. I’d never really had occasion to. I didn’t pull a face. Or make a funny pose. I simply stood and looked. I enjoyed the new, bronzing hue of my skin. And I reconciled the diminishing white bands across my breasts and my hips. I was proud enough to look at my naked body without shame, and to wish those white bands as golden as the rest of me.
    My body looked so soft and pure. So indisputably natural that the plastic bottle looked incongruously synthetic in my hand. I thought of Veronica waiting outside, and of how she would handle my body with the contents of that bottle. I could see the colour rising into my neck as I thought about her, and that involuntary pulsing began in the pit of my abdomen. I looked at the soft, sparse down forming a triangle between my thighs and protecting my privates. I thought about Tia’s smooth, vulnerable pussy, and how much more secretive mine seemed to be in comparison with hers. I put my fingers to the fine hairs. In one direction they were silky smooth, while the other way they were prickly. I traced the silk right down between my legs to where it stopped completely and my pussy became prominent and full. I was wet there. And my fingers were surprised to find it. The tender lips had begun to swell and they’d grown slick with just the mere thought of Veronica’s hands sliding all over my body. I flushed immediately, taken aback by my own desire. And as soon as the desire had risen, it crested into a wave of indecency. For Veronica had probably made my own father feel similar to this. And it was extremely likely that my father had made Veronica feel exactly like this. I took my fingers from my slippery vagina and became suddenly embarrassed when I caught my eye in the mirror.
    I thought to grab a towel, to affect some form of modesty upon my return to Veronica. But I’d been naked when I left the pool. To cover up now would only advertise my embarrassment and make me out to be the prude I’d fought to repel yesterday. The decision was made for me when I heard Tia turn off the shower. I could wait here to be discovered naked, blushing, and more than a little excited, while I deliberated between a towel or no towel. Or I could go. Considering the awkwardness of the former, I turned and fled. I ran down the corridor and swept past the open