Georgia's English Rose (8 page)

Her face rested against my belly, her lips
close to my bush. I turned my head, the plump lips of her labia
directly under my gaze, and slid a finger between them. When I drew
it back my finger glistened with her wetness. I added a second and
pushed both inside. I kissed her belly again, her fine pubic hair
against my cheek as I moved a little lower. The scent of her filled
my nose, drawing me closer.

My chest fluttered, reflecting my fear and
nervousness. I was going to kiss her there. I wanted to, but what
would Georgia say? Would I disgust her? I wanted her against my
mouth, against my tongue, building my courage to try, but what if
she hated me? Her own lips were near my pussy too, but that was
only near, not
on
. Would I disgust her if I kissed her where
I wanted to?

“Georgia?” I said.

“What is it, honey?” Her voice was soft, her
breath warm against my bush.

I was silent, not knowing how to proceed.
Georgia moved and looked at me, looked at my face nestling against
her lower belly. As she moved her thighs changed position and I
should have done it as she opened herself beneath me.

“What is it, Lil?”

That was when I heard splashing from around
the turn in the river.

“Georgia,” I hissed, rolling away.
“Someone’s coming.”

“What? Who?”

She jerked away as Michael came around the
turn, walking in the water, his trousers wet to the thigh, a cane
fishing rod in one hand and two good sized trout hanging off a
lanyard in the other.

He caught sight of us, startled, then
grinned.

“Hey, girls, what are you doing all the way
out here?”

We had hurriedly tugged our dresses down and
now sat demure, if lacking knickers, on the bank. I fumbled between
us and stuffed our discarded panties into the bottom of the canvas
bag. Grass tickled my bum and I hoped neither of us were showing we
wore nothing beneath our dresses.

“We’re having a picnic,” Georgia said.

“Any left?” Michael asked, stepping out of
the river and climbing the slope toward us.

“I’ve got half a ham and cheese, and
Georgia’s hardly started on her beef and mustard. You want to share
with us?”

“Good show,” he said, dropping between us,
deliberately pushing into the space and making us move apart. “Any
tea left?” He shook the flask. “Plenty. Good.”

I glanced behind him at Georgia and she
pulled a face, rolling her eyes. The trembling slowly stilled
inside me. I had been so close to spoiling everything. Thank
goodness Michael came along when he did.

Michael polished off the rest of our
sandwiches and then offered to show Georgia how to fly-fish. I
watched as he stood behind her in the river, moving her arm, the
waxed silk line snaking onto the water. He stood very tight against
Georgia and I feared he might notice she wore no panties. His hands
seemed to hold her in inappropriate places and I realized I was
jealous. What did Georgia think she was up to? Didn’t she know what
Michael was doing with her?

Finally the lesson came to an end and they
climbed out. I packed the remains of our picnic, pushing the paper
bags and flask down over our panties and tying the top down
tight.

Michael offered his hand and pulled me up.
He winked at me and grinned.

“Can I escort you two lovely creatures back?
And when we get home I want you both to do something for me.”

“What’s that, Mike?” Georgia asked.

No one else had ever called him Mike.
Michael or Mikey, but never Mike. He didn’t seem to mind.

“Well, I’ve got my first ops coming up this
week. I’ve thought of a great idea to get my reflexes in shape.
Come on, I’ll explain as we walk back.”

When we reached the house
Georgia turned to Michael and said, “Back in a sec. We just need to
freshen up.”

Michael rolled his eyes. It was obvious what
he thought. Girls!

In the hallway I pulled Georgia into the
pantry and fumbled our panties from the bag. I handed one pair to
her, pulled the others on. Georgia made a face, tugged hers back
down and we swapped over, giggling.

“Do you think he saw anything?” I
whispered.

“Nah. Not a thing.”

“Why were you flirting with him like that?”
I said, trying not to let the hurt show in my voice.

“It was a bit of fun, Lil, that’s all. You
know it’s you I love,” and she kissed me once, hard, taking my
breath away.

“It looked like flirting to me,” I said, a
little happier. Her kisses always made me happy, and I realized how
quickly I was becoming used to the touch of her lips.

“I like him,” Georgia said. “Not like I like
you, but he’s sweet. And I see some of you in him too, I guess.”
She leaned close to me and put her hand on my shoulder. We were
almost exactly the same height, but any similarity ended there.
“When he was showing me how to fish,” she whispered in my ear, “I
think he got quite excited.”

“Excited?” I whispered back.

“You know, down below? I felt him pressing
it against my butt.”

“Oh, that’s disgusting!” I said.

“Yeah, kind of. But he’s so sweet too.”

“You’re not…” My voice caught. “You’re not
gonna… going to let him do anything, are you?”

Georgia laughed. “Of course not. Don’t
worry, Lil, I’m all yours, little darling.”

My stomach turned over and I kissed her
lightly.

“Let’s go play this game then,” Georgia
said.

It was clever of Michael to come up with the
idea. Most new pilots were shot down because they didn’t see danger
coming. High in the air death came from all directions, above,
below, right, left, ahead and behind. It might come from anywhere.
His teachers had drilled that into him. Most new pilots stared
straight ahead, but that was not where danger lay. It might come
from above, perhaps behind your left shoulder, and before you knew
what was happening bullets were ripping your plane apart around
you.

So Michael gave us tennis balls and stood in
the middle of the lawn while we ran around throwing them at him.
Every time we hit him he lost. Every time he saw the ball and
ducked or caught it was a victory for him, and might mean the
difference between life and death when he flew the skies alone.

When we started the game we hit him a lot.
On his broad shoulders, the back of his head, balls bouncing off
his cheeks. After a half hour Michael managed to dodge more than
hit him. After an hour we missed almost every time, even when we
threw from right behind him. He stood on one spot, playing by the
rules he had invented, feet planted in the grass, upper body and
head turning and seeking, leaning and ducking.

We laughed and giggled and when she got
bored Georgia started swooping at Michael pretending to be a
Messerschmitt and sometimes he tagged her and sometimes she darted
away untouched. I watched and after a while joined in, tossing
balls at him from close range, slapping him on his arms, ducking to
avoid his hands as they came back at me.

I noticed Georgia allowed him to catch her
now and then, but I was not jealous any more. I knew what she was
doing and loved her even more. In a few days Michael would be in
the air fighting for his life. He might never come back from his
first flight, and if he did the fear would gnaw at his belly until
the next time. He knew, we all knew, exactly what might happen.

So Georgia let him catch her, let him
accidentally brush against her full breasts, accidentally touch her
rounded backside. And I found myself joining in too, my heart
hammering when Michael caught me the first time and his hand slid
across my shoulder before skirting around my breasts. With Georgia
he wasn’t quite so gentlemanly, unless hers were simply more
difficult to avoid.

He laughed as though it meant nothing, and I
laughed back, excited and scared.

“Enough,” Michael said at last. Sweat poured
from his face, and I’m sure Georgia and I were as hot. He sat on
the grass with his legs stretched out, leaning on one elbow.

Georgia wanted to play some more and
continued tagging me. I glanced at Michael, relaxing on the grass,
lighting up a cigarette, smiling as he watched us as though he
hadn’t a care in the world.

We darted and bumped, slid and slapped.
Georgia caught my hand and swung me around. My feet left the grass
and I tumbled over. My dress rose and flashed my legs and I didn’t
care. I ran at Georgia, saw where she wanted to grab me and ducked,
caught her around the waist and tipped her over my feet. She landed
on her back, her legs above her head, white panties flashing as she
continued to roll.

I felt her grab my breast the next time she
caught me. I twisted away, slid behind her and grabbed both of
hers, pulled her back and then ducked aside so she landed on her
backside, her breath rushing out.

I heard Michael laugh, watching us,
happy.

We were both sweating and I doubted if
enough hot water remained for another bath tonight and didn’t care.
Sweaty or not, Georgia was wonderful; Georgia was mine.

Finally we slowed, stopped, and fell onto
the grass. Georgia allowed Michael to look up her dress a moment
longer before tugging the hem down.

Michael glanced at his watch, a Swiss model
all the pilots wore.

“It’s nearly dinner time. You two had better
get cleaned up. I’ll see you back downstairs.”

He bounced up and strode across the grass. I
saw Georgia watch him go. She caught my look and grinned.

“If I did like men, Lil,” she said, “I think
I might let him fuck me.”

“Georgia!” I gasped.

“Don’t worry, honey, it ain’t gonna happen.
I’m just saying. He’s a doll, your brother, if a girl went for that
kind of thing. But it’s his sister I’m after.”

I grinned foolishly and got up.

After dinner we sat in the
living room until late. Daddy brought a crate of cider from the
cellar and put the bottles in the pantry to keep cool. Tomorrow
Georgia and I would catch the train south. Michael was traveling
east, returning to Suffolk for his first active posting. Daddy knew
this was our last evening together for a while, maybe forever. We
all drank too much cider and at ten o’clock Daddy said he was going
to bed while he still could. We heard him and Mummy laughing as
they climbed the stairs.

Michael got up and brought another bottle of
cider back, filled his glass and waved the bottle at us. We both
held our glasses out. I knew I had drunk more than was good for me,
too much to care.

Michael sprawled across the Chesterfield,
dressed in slacks and a white shirt with two buttons undone. He had
slipped his shoes off and showed a hole in his right sock over the
big toe. Georgia and I sat together on the other sofa. Georgia sat
close to me and her hand searched for mine.

I saw Michael glance down as our fingers
linked and he smiled.

“I suppose that means I’m sleeping on my own
tonight,” he said, laughter softening his voice. “I’d already
guessed as much.”

“What did you guess, Mike?” I asked, my
voice slurring a little, using Georgia’s name for him.

“I know you’ve never had a boyfriend,
Nutkin. I think I’ve always guessed what you were.”

I looked at him. “What’s that, Michael?” My
voice was firmer now, and I was a little angry. What gave him the
right to pass judgment on me?

He held up his hands. “Hey. Settle down,
sis. It’s fine. I’m not saying anything’s wrong… There are a few
girls in the WAAFs like you and Georgia. It doesn’t make them bad
people. Not at all.”

“Really?” Georgia said, leaning forward.
“And what do people think of them?”

“The girls?”

“Yeah, the girls.”

Michael shrugged and drained his glass,
reached over for the bottle and topped it up.

“Some of the chaps, you know, they laugh
about them. But I think they’re scared, and a little jealous. They
don’t understand. There’s a war on, Georgia, nobody cares what
people do. Take love wherever you find it, with whoever you can
find it with. And besides, there are plenty of other girls left for
the rest of us.”

Georgia sat back and snuggled against
me.

“Are there many of these girls? The ones you
mean?” she asked.

Michael laughed. “What, are you going to put
in for a transfer?”

“No,” Georgia said. “I’ve already found the
girl I want.”

Michael looked from her to me and smiled. He
thumbed a cigarette from his pack, struck a match. “Good for you.
I’m happy for you both. Do you feel the same way about Georgia,
sis?”

I nodded, my anger washed away completely by
the words Georgia had spoken.

“Good,” he said, and I don’t think I ever
loved my brother more than at that moment.

“What about you, Mike?” Georgia asked. “Do
you like boys or girls.”

“What do you think, Georgia?” he smiled.

“Girls, I think.”

He nodded. “Girls. Right on the button.”

“I’m sorry I teased you, Mike,” Georgia
said. “I know I wasn’t being fair acting the way I did when there
was no payoff coming.”

“No problem. In fact I rather enjoyed
myself. I knew you were only play acting. I guessed as much last
night. Confirmed my suspicions when I saw you two at the
river.”

“The river?” I said.

Michael nodded, suppressing a grin.

“What do you mean?” Georgia said.

“You think I didn’t see what you were
stuffing in the bottom of that picnic bag, sis?”

My face flushed bright red. I glanced across
at Georgia but she sat calmly watching Michael.

“I guess we need to be more careful,” she
said.

Michael grinned and stubbed his cigarette
out. “Don’t worry on my behalf. Well, I’d better get up to bed.
Early start in the morning. Don’t want to keep Mr Hitler waiting. I
expect you two are tired as well.”