Leisl remained true to her word. She began to lavish more attention on her brother after a long time of neglect and focus on lovers who took her forgranted. Carl had never done so. He'd been there for her when she needed solace, never berated her for her absences or poor choices of bedfellows. He'd been the modicum of measure and tolerance even though it was often obvious that he didn't like the 'type' of men she was attracted to.
She wasn't why but she definitely had a 'type', a penchant for the 'bad boy'. Usually muso's - tattooed and self-obsessed, or skaters - agile and neglectful or the last, a motocross rider who spent more time with his KTM than with her. He's the one who broke the camel's back by calling her stupid and dumping her unceremoniously. Yet she would have tolerated all his faults if he'd just loved her. Stayed with her. Quelled her neediness and obsession. After Stu, she was going to take a break. Focus on the salon, her family, her looks. If love was to find her, it would have to come looking. She was done with clubs and pubs and short-term liaisons with creeps. She was 'over it', or so she thought.
Carl continued with his boxing and building the body beautiful. He was strong, not a tall man, but solid as a rock in both build and character. The two of them did everything together between his gym commitments and her full time work at the salon. They moved from the nightlife to the good life. Cycling in the Grampians, swimming at Carrum Downs, playing monopoly while Wolf drank himself into a stupor in front of the television, preparing meals, sharing the load of housework or just sitting end to end on the couch watching TV. Her with her feet tucked beneath his thighs. Physical contact for them was natural, easy. The few times they found themselves alone, she logged into Facebook and Twitter on her Android, a voyeur of the lives of others, a browser of You Tube and a lover of Grumpy Cat. Occasionally, she'd notice Carl's absence and quiz him upon his return.
"Where've you been?" she'd pry, peering momentarily from her phone screen. I didn't even know you'd slipped out."
"Oh nowhere, just went for a walk. Clear the head, stretch the legs."
Trust is an odd thing
"Yeh, Carol, we're close. He's my best friend that little chap. Love his bones. I am lucky!"
Leisl was able to distract herself from more than affectionate thoughts of her younger sibling once the client was seated and her coiffure in progress.
"What's the go with your sister?" Mitch Ryan had once asked Carl, after a lengthy conversation about her good look, great body.
"What? 'the go'?" Carl retorted, realising that he talked about her more than was natural, and thought about her more than was healthy. "Nothin', she's good that's all. Nice girl, we're best mates I guess."
He turned quickly, distracting himself with the punching bag and trying not to let his thoughts stray.
The tickling incident, although unrepeated, was not forgotten. In fact it played hard on Carl's mind. At 18, he still hadn't had the courage to ask a girl out let alone the experience of carnal pleasures and when alone, he fantasised about his sister and her exploits, wondered about what she'd done, what she did, what she could do.
Carl rose, and made his way towards the bathroom as was his morning habit. He'd shower and relieve himself at the same time but found the bathroom occupied.
Leisl, one leg raised, her foot on the lip of the bath, was waxing her legs. Freshly showered, her hair lank around her shoulders, and wearing only her underwear. The door remained slightly ajar. Carl forgot his near-nakedness as he peered unnoticed through the thin slit in the door. Her legs had always been shapely but somehow seemed more womanly, sleek, tanned. She was blessed with an hourglass figure, slim, slight, voluptuous, made all the more attractive by a pink lace bra and g-string that left little to the imagination. He watched as she slid the warm wax from her ankle, slowly and steadily along her shin, terminating at her knee and applied a cotton strip. He winced as she pulled the strip back, tearing the wax with it, yet she barely flinched. He admired her breasts as she leaned forward and repeated the action on a new patch of flawless skin. His guilt suspended by the desire to look. She removed her pants and widened her legs, applying more wax between them, more careful this time and using smaller strips of white cotton, she removed every vestige of pubic hair. She looked beautiful, clean, virginal, youthful,like a Greek Goddess in pink lace. Her ritual complete, she retrieved g-string and looked up, catching a glimpse of him through the narrow opening of the door before standing straight and striking a naked pose.
"Like what you see Carl?" A cheeky smile beamed across her face. She made little effort to hurry to get dressed and slid the g-string from knee to hip, straightening with her thumbs and pressing her palms down flat from abs to her lower belly. She reached for the silk gown her mother used to wear and slowly covered up before fully opening the door.
"My! You did like what you saw." She began giggling softly at the bulge protruding from his blue striped cotton boxers before brushing past him, just nudging the tip of his erection with her thigh and retreating into her bedroom. This would be one of many flirtatious 'near misses' which did not make her uncomfortable, for that matter, did not faze Carl either, merely enhanced his curiosity about what lay between those hairless, velvet thighs.
Posted for River of Mnemosyne Challenge No 5
Continued in In Surreal Time