A Home By The Sea.

"For heaven's sake, are you intending to frowst in your room all day?

Richard looks up from his book to see his sister in the doorway, arms folded over her breasts as though guarding them from prying eyes.

"Not at all, Emily, now that the rain has stopped I was thinking of a walk."

"Pleased to hear it, I have a visitor calling at three."

As no further information about the mystery caller is forthcoming, Richard rises from his chair.

Minutes later, upholstered against the elements in overcoat and scarf and with a battered trilby perched upon his head, he leaves the house. A malevolent easterly wind stings his cheeks as he crosses at the zebra and heads for the promenade.

The cafe in The Ornamental Gardens is open though empty.

"Tea, no milk and a toasted teacake please."

The girl behind the counter gives a smile of recognition. "Your usual sir, butter no jam?"

Richard nods. He imagines that at this time of year he is the nearest thing she has to a regular customer.

Taking a seat by the window he stares out over the windswept veranda. Many years ago he spent his honeymoon in this town. His bride, Janice, was betist giriş a prettily pale rather nervous woman who Richard had thought well suited to life with an unambitious schoolmaster. So he was surprised when six months into the marriage, he returned home unexpectedly to find her naked and groaning spread across the marital bed with a colleague from the reference library.

The girl approaches with his order. She wears a crisp white blouse and neat straight leg jeans fitted into worn black suede boots. He glances at the name badge attached to her shirt, even though he has a good memory for names.

For thirty years he taught English in secondary schools, moving jobs every five years or so, for no reason other than a different stop on the Northern Line and a fresh staffroom occupied by a new set of tired faces. Following his mother's death he took early retirement , sold his Belsize Park flat for what seemed a fortune and joined his unmarried sister in their childhood home by the sea.

Leaving the cafe he walks steadily towards the twinkling lights of the pier. There he crosses the road and takes a side street lined with small private hotels betist yeni giriş and Victorian family homes long since converted into flats. He stops at one and presses the usual buzzer.

By the time he reaches the third floor the door hangs open.

"Come in Richard, you are late today."

The voice belongs to a blonde woman in her late forties, with rouged cheeks and shiny red pouting lips. She wears a black basque with fishnet stockings and high heels.

When Richard passes her a sheaf of folded notes she offers her cheek to be kissed.

He undresses in the overheated bedroom with its thick maroon drapes. Next to the double bed is a mirrored dressing table littered with brushes, make-up jars and perfume bottles. On top of the oak veneer wardrobe sits a sizable collection of stuffed animals.

Once naked, he lies face down on a rough towel , positioned to protect the flower patterned duvet cover. He listens for the click of returning heels on the lino.

"Why were you late, Richard?" She selects a thin cane from the pottery jar in the corner.

He gasps and presses his face into the thin pillow as the first stroke swishes betist güvenilirmi through the air and stings his buttocks.

"I hope your sister is keeping well dear." A second, followed closely by a third stroke cuts into his flesh.

"You can call me Emily, if you want. Like you did last time."

As the severity of the strokes increases Richard closes his eyes and imagines his sister holding the cane.

"That's six, dear. Time to turn over."

She straddles him and releases her massive pendulous breasts. They hang over his face, her stubby nipples just out of reach.

"They look like hers, don't they?"

A crack like a rifle shot sounds as her first slap hits his face. The saggy breasts roll like waves as she continues his punishment.

***

"It's nearly time for you to go, Richard." She sits beside him on the bed, a chubby nicotine stained finger strokes his red cheek.

"Do you want pussy today, dear?"

He shakes his head. Indifferently she begins to tug on his thick shaft.

***

The sky is overcast and promises rain as Richard lets himself into his house. Their sitting room is unoccupied, though still cluttered with the remains of afternoon tea. He settles into an armchair and retrieves his newspaper neatly folded at the unfinished crossword:

Relations with relations. (6)

As Richard reaches for his pen he hears the rhythmic creak of his sister's bed.