Nora shot me a glance, then shrugged. We weren’t party animals, and most likely we wouldn’t feel like going out every night anyway.

“You’re both of legal age to drink alcohol, but you have to promise me that you won’t have more than two drinks when I’m not with you.”

We nodded again, less enthusiastically this time. Two drinks wasn’t great, but his tone made it clear that it wasn’t negotiable.

Mr. Fred was the most understanding of our parents, but we had learned to recognize from his voice when there was no room for negotiation. With my parents, or even with Nora’s mother, negotiation was almost always necessary because they were way stricter. But when Mr. Fred used this tone, trying to negotiate with him made things difficult. A trace of steel would appear in his voice and a shadow in his eyes. We rarely got to hear the no-negotiation tone, but when we did, it was always something important.

“Promise,” we both said.

“I will trust you to keep your word, but if you come home drunk, you’re not allowed to go out on your own.”

We spent the first day exploring the resort, picking up a beach cabana to rent, and doing nice family fun things together. But on the very next night, we explored the limits of our freedom.

The bartender carded us, and may have been a little too generous with the amount of alcohol in our cocktails, but we only had two drinks each.

The guys at the party were ripped and tanned and most of them were interested in us. Our game plan was to shop around the first day, see if there was anyone worthy of a hot holiday sexcapade, but not to go any further than a bit of dry-humping on the dancefloor.

A few minutes before 2am, we opened the front door to our bungalow. I hadn’t doubted for a moment that Mr. Fred was waiting up for us.

The only light in the living room was the flickering of the TV set.

“Hi, dad,” Nora said, and flopped on the couch next to him.

He reached to turn on the floor lamp beyond the couch and put his arm around her shoulders. Nora snuggled into him.

“What were you watching?” she asked.

I turned my head to the TV. He must have muted it when he heard the door. When he reached for the remote, my eyes were attracted to the movement. My gaze remained to glued to his hand. He pressed a button and I heard the familiar sound of a football match. I ignored it, in favor of the spectacle of the most attractive masculine hand in the world. I opened my mouth slightly and touched my upper lip with the tip of my tongue. How would it feel to have one of those fingers in my mouth? Or two? Would he like it? If I sucked, if I twirled my tongue…

“Everything all right, Aryra?”

My teeth snapped together when I closed my mouth.

“Mhm,” I mewled.

The embarrassing sound made me blush. Fantasizing about sucking the man’s fingers hadn’t been enough to make it clear that I should get out of there.

“Sleepy,” I said, and shuffled out of the room.

“Good night, Aryra.”

The sound of his voice made my pussy throb so hard, I nearly stumbled. What would I give to hear him call my name when he made me come? What would it be like to feel that he saw me as a woman? As an object of desire?

My pussy tingled and I had a hard time walking. I leaned on the wall all along the hallway.

Those two drinks had been stronger than the beer we drank back home. It looked like I’d have to cut it down to one drink. And that one should be a beer. Bartenders around here seemed to exaggerate the amount of liquor in cocktails.

---

The next day, Nora and I woke up late. In the kitchen, we found a note from Mr. Fred saying that he and Samwel were going to the beach.

It was almost noon when we got out of the house. The sun was too bright, even with the dark sunglasses and massive hat. I stared down at my feet as we walked on the hot sand.

“There they are,” Nora said.

I let her take the lead, without looking. I didn’t feel strong enough to see Mr. Fred shirtless. He usually wore a t-shirt on the beach, but with my luck, this would be the one day he had taken it off.

We sighed when we stepped in the shade of the cabana.

“Should we have a dip?” I said.

Nora moaned and plunked on one of the beds. I was in no mood to do anything other than lie down and sleep. I took out a bottle of water from the fridge and pressed it against my forehead before taking the other bed.

“My head hurts,” Nora said.

My head also pounded. She had probably spoken normally, but it pierced my poor battered brain.

“Don’t shout,” I whispered, and pulled the hat further down on my face.

Even in the shadow of the cabana, the light bothered me. I scrunched my eyes, determined to fall asleep. A second later, Nora shrieked. I threw away my glasses and hat, and jumped to my feet. The sun was blinding, and my eyes teared up, but I forced myself to keep them open. Nora was already running, while her brother and her father followed her with water guns.

There were drops next to her bed, where the “attack” had started. I retrieved my glasses and was about to sit down again, when I heard Nora calling me.

“Aryra, help me!”

She was running back toward the cabana, followed by Samwel and Mr. Fred. I scanned my surroundings for anything I could use to help her. I grabbed my water bottle, unscrewed the lid and headed their way.

Samwel’s gun seemed to have run out of water, and he was hanging on to Nora’s hand, to slow her down while their father went on squirting water in her face. Poor Nora’s mascara was running down her cheeks.

I sprayed Samwel’s back and he let go of his sister. The outraged look on his face made me laugh, and I ran closer, pouring half the bottle over his head.

“Daaaaad,” he screamed, trying to bat away my hand.

I kept squirting bursts of water at random and he was waving his arms around, trying to block them.

My laughter turned into a guttural shriek when I felt a cold jet of water on my back. I stupidly turned into it, and the next jet pasted my dress to my abdomen and my tits. Instinctively, I pressed down hard on the bottle and most of the water left in it burst in Mr. Fred’s face.

The water dripped from his face, down his neck and soaked into his t-shirt. I had a flashback to that moment, but the reality in front of me was even more striking because now he was looking at me.

Samwel ran away and Nora was running after him. They were both heading for our beds, and a corner of my mind remembered that there was a stash of water in the small fridge between them. Really, really cold water.

The thought flew away when Mr. Fred raised the water gun and squirted me point blank. I raised my arms to protect my face, but he wasn’t aiming for it. Jet after jet of water hit my breasts. The thin fabric clung to my flesh, and my nipples hardened, swelled, pulsed. I dropped the water bottle and cupped my breasts, squeezing them in my hands to soothe the aching.

He froze, watching me with his mouth open. My gaze roamed over his body, as hungrily as he was staring at mine. I caught a glimpse of the tent forming at the front of his shorts.

The moment ended as abruptly as it started. Samwel and Nora, armed with cold mineral water attacked us, and everything devolved in a loud, laughing melee in which we all ende

d up completely soaked.