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Sister gives up her brother's ass to her boyfriend.

When it was over, she felt light, joyous, and ecstatic and she knew why: It's because I've been well and truly fucked for the first time in a long time, she conceded. She even imagined that the sex had lent her the confident enthusiasm that had marked her speaking.

At the two-thirty break, she went out onto the hotel verandah, sat in one of the rocking chairs and tried to sort out her thoughts. She had done it again! She had submitted to a sexual episode with another man. And, my God, he didn't even use protection! What in hell am I . . . But she didn't care, felt no guilt. There had been a shadow of doubt and remorse as Jack had left her, trembling and clinging to the back of the desk chair with her panties around her ankles. The indignity of it was not lost on her, but it had faded and now she felt only a settled and easy languor.

She was watching birds flitting furiously about in the shrubbery when she felt a strange twinge inside her. At first she thought the guilt might be starting but as she watched the birds it dawned on her that it was not guilt but need. I want more, she thought, By God! I want more than a quick fuck between lunch and a meeting!

She rose and went back through the lobby to the small room where the SoftFile display was set up. Jack had just finished his demonstration and was handing out brochures and disks to interested listeners. She hung back till the last of them headed for the door, then stepped around to Jack's side of the table and up behind his shoulder.

"How's business?" she asked with a coy note in her voice.

He turned and smiled, "Better than I could ever have expected," he replied with the same double meaning. "How're you?"

"M-m . . . not so good."

"Oh? What's wrong?" His eyes searched for a clue in her face and found only a glow and a slant-eyed amusement.

"Well, did you ever have one of those days when everything just seemed sort of . . . incomplete?"

His smile became broader and warmer. "I think I know what you mean."

"You did say that I could ask for your help if I was up against a problem, right?"

"Indeed I did. So, what's the problem?"

"It's . . . complicated. But I'm free this evening, do you think we might discuss it."

"I think that we should --- at length. How about dinner first? We could drive into that little community at the other end of the island. I hear they have an acceptable Italian place there."

"Italian food! I think that would be just the thing. Very fortifying, I hear. Seven o'clock?"

"In the lobby?"

"See you there."

They took the VW. She drove with the top down, savoring the aroma of the various flowers in riotous bloom on the island. The food was good, better than just acceptable, as Jack had characterized it and the wine put both of them into a mellow mood. Jack paid the check with his credit card but as the waitress moved away, Julianne pulled the receipt from his hand. The total, with tip, came to forty-two dollars. She drew a twenty and a one from her purse and handed them to Jack along with the receipt.

"You don't have to do this," he said.

She took his hand in hers and looked directly into his eyes. "Jack, I want this evening --- this night --- to be . . . equal, I guess. I'm not sure what I mean. I just don't want any . . . any sense of obligation about it, okay?"

He waited a moment, sensed her sincerity, then said, "Sure."

Driving back, wings were beating in her head and in her chest.

She parked and walked with Jack toward the entrance to the hotel. As they approached the doors he said, "A turn on the beach? Aids digestion, I'm told." Her heart swelled and she relied, "Why, yes, kind sir, I'd like that very much."

Again they slipped off their shoes at the bottom of the boardwalk steps and strolled out onto the firm wet sand.

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