Sally didn’t move. Her heart thudded. Her cheeks burned not with embarrassment, but something hotter. Sharper. She hated bullies. Hated the way Andrew stiffened like he wanted to disappear.
“I’m not his brother,” she said coldly.
Sally spun in front of the mirror, tilting her head and tugging the hem of her new shirt. She flipped her short hair out of her face. It was soft pink, slightly cropped, hugging the lines of her slim frame. She liked how it clung to her stomach, how the neckline dipped just low enough to suggest something more. If only there were more to show.
“It’s cute, right?” she said, turning to where Andrew lounged on the couch. His phone in one hand and a smirk already forming.
He barely glanced up.
“Sure. Super cute. Too bad it was made for girls with boobs.”
Her cheeks flared with heat, and she planted her hands on her hips. “I have boobs,” she snapped, trying not to let his words sink in too deeply. She hated how easily he could dig under her skin with just one comment. Andrew looked up then, actually looked, one eyebrow cocked.
“You are cute,” he said slowly, clearly enjoying himself, “but you’re flat enough that you could wear one of my old swimsuits to the beach and no one would even know you’re a girl. Especially with your hair up.”
Sally’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”
He shrugged, teasing her with his grin. “Dead serious. Wear my trunks and a tank top, maybe even go shirtless. Bet no one would notice.”
The insult stung, but something else pulsed under it, defiance. She narrowed her eyes. “You think I wouldn't do it?”
“I think you’ll chicken out.” He leaned forward now, sensing her rising irritation. “Tell you what. We're going tomorrow. You wear my trunks. No shirt. We’ll walk the beach, talk to people, whatever. If anyone notices you’re a girl? I’ll pay half of next month’s rent.”
Sally blinked. That was... tempting. Very tempting. Still, the thought of walking a public beach with her chest bare made her stomach flutter with nerves. Even if she couldn't fill out an A cup bra. “And if no one does notice?” she asked slowly.
“Then you pay mine.” He grinned, cocky and confident now. “Fair?”
She hesitated, chewing the inside of her cheek. There was a tight knot of adrenaline forming in her chest, equal parts dread and thrill.
“Fine,” she said, lifting her chin. “Let’s do it.”
----------------
Sally adjusted the pink baseball cap on her head for the third time, tucking in the last strands of her brown hair until they disappeared entirely. From a distance, even up close, she figured she probably looked like a boy. The white t-shirt hung loose on her thin frame, and Andrew’s old swim trunks sat low on her hips, secured by a drawstring tied tighter than it was meant to go.
Beside her, Andrew walked with easy confidence, his tan skin golden in the sun, every muscle in his chest and arms catching the light. He wasn’t trying to show off. He just always looked good. Girls on the path glanced his way; Sally noticed. She always noticed. But no one was looking at her. Not with interest, anyway.
The sand was warm under her bare feet, soft but gritty as they followed the curved shoreline. She could feel the outline of her nipples under the cotton tee. Small and firm against the slight breeze, and every brush of fabric across her chest made her more aware of how little she had to hide. And how easy it might be for someone to see.
“Relax,” Andrew murmured beside her, leaning in close. “You’re doing fine.”
“I’m not nervous,” she lied. Her hands stayed pinned to her sides. “This shirt is just thinner than I thought.”
“Still no one noticing,” he said with a smug little tilt to his voice. "Even with your sweat making the shirt transparent. Wanna call it off now and save some pride?”
She scowled up at him. “Not a chance.”
They passed more people and still nothing. Not even a second glance. Her heart raced, not from embarrassment anymore, but something more electric. A thrill. Each step further from safety fed it. The silence from strangers made her bold. Half an hour in, sweat formed under her hat and beneath her shirt. She could feel it sticking lightly to her chest. She didn’t even want to know if the damp fabric was starting to cling more than it should.
Andrew glanced toward a little shack perched above the beach path. “Ice cream?”
She blinked up at him, caught off guard. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. But.” He looked her up and down, the corner of his mouth curling. “I’ll pay if you lose the shirt.”
She stared at him. “Right here?”
He nodded, all mock innocence. “That’s the bet, isn’t it?”
She took a breath and felt the air scrape across her damp skin. Her heart beat faster.
“You’re such an asshole,” she said softly, but she was already reaching for the hem of the shirt.
In one motion, she pulled it off and shoved it into his hand.
The sun hit her bare chest, and she swore the breeze instantly found her nipples, teasing them into sharp little peaks. She resisted the urge to cover herself and just started walking toward the shack. Andrew caught up quickly, still grinning.
They got their cones: mango for her and espresso chip for him. Then found a spot on the rocks above the shore. Sally sat with her knees pulled up, licking the melting sorbet as the waves crashed below.
Her nipples were clearly visible, small and stiff. A few people passed by down the slope, but no one paid her any special attention. It was like she didn’t even exist. A flat-chested teen boy is sitting beside a gorgeous guy. She felt invisible and a little powerful.
“You’re really doing it,” Andrew said after a while, watching her but not leering. “Didn’t think you’d actually go through with it.”
“I didn’t either,” she admitted quietly.
The breeze kissed her chest again. She looked out at the horizon, at the slow roll of surf, the tang of salt in her nose, and the warmth of the cone in her hand. And for a moment, she smiled.
They had just finished their cones and were laughing as they strolled barefoot toward the beachside bathrooms. Andrew’s trunks hung low on his hips, still damp from the ocean. Sally trailed beside him, her flat chest bare to the sun. Her pink cap hides her hair, her small frame easily mistaken for a teen boy from a distance. She looked smug, proud even, basking in the freedom of pulling off the look and winning their bet so far.
As they neared the tiled archway to the restrooms, two older guys stepped out lean, shirtless, mid-20s maybe, clearly locals, clearly trouble.
One of them squinted. “No way. Is that Andy-fucking-Carter?”
Andrew froze. “…Oh, shit.”
The taller one grinned. “Didn’t think we’d see you back here, man. Still hanging out with your imaginary girlfriend?”
His friend snorted. “Or is this your kid brother?” He nodded toward Sally. “Damn, man, didn’t know you were babysitting.”
Sally narrowed her eyes.
“Back off,” Andrew muttered, trying to keep walking.
But the bullies stepped in closer, circling like sharks.
“Still can’t get laid, huh? Brings his little brother to a nude beach, what’s the matter, Andy, trying to convince people you’ve got friends?”
Sally didn’t move. Her heart thudded. Her cheeks burned not with embarrassment, but something hotter. Sharper. She hated bullies. Hated the way Andrew stiffened like he wanted to disappear.
“I’m not his brother,” she said coldly.
One of the guys blinked. “Wait… what?”
The other laughed. “You serious? He’s walking around with a flat-chested chick in boy shorts pretending it’s his date? Did you get her from an elementary school?”
Sally took a step forward, squaring her shoulders. “I’m not pretending anything, and I'm 20, you fucker.”
“Oh, right. So what, you're his cousin? Maybe his sister? Don’t tell me he brought his sister topless to a beach just to keep the fantasy alive—”
She cut him off. “No girl fucks their brother,” she said, voice low and sharp. “And trust me, I really want to fuck him.” There was a pause. A quiet, thick, and sudden. The taller bully frowned, confused. Andrew looked stunned. Sally didn’t back down. Her bare chest rose with every breath. “So yeah. Definitely not his sister.”
"Let's get out of here." They said as they left.
The two men’s footsteps faded behind them, swallowed by the steady rhythm of waves crashing against the shore. For a moment, Sally stood still, heart pounding loud in her ears, the sun warming her bare shoulders, and the sting of their words lingering like salt on her skin.
She tugged her pink cap lower, suddenly aware of how exposed she felt. The rough sand between her toes, the cool breeze slipping over the swell of her chest, where the sun had turned her skin pink and sensitive. Her bare skin prickled with a new kind of heat, a flicker of something electric twisting in her belly that had nothing to do with the sun. Andrew’s steps approached beside her, slower now, as if he was waiting for something.
“You serious,” he said quietly, voice hesitant, “about what you said? About… us?”
Sally’s breath hitched. She wasn’t sure if it was the question or the way the sun caught the soft curve of his jaw that made her cheeks flush hotter.
“I am,” she said softly, eyes fixed on the sand. “I want to… I want to be with you.”
His gaze softened, and he smiled, that easy, half-amused smile that always made her feel like the only person in the world.
“No pressure,” he said, reaching out to squeeze her hand.
She glanced up, meeting his eyes, and for the first time that day, felt a warmth deeper than the sun’s on her skin, a quiet promise, a new kind of daring. Together, they started walking back toward the apartment, the beach behind them, and something new beginning just ahead.
-----------
The door clicked shut behind them, the familiar sound suddenly heavy with promise. Sally’s heart hammered as she turned, eyes locking with Andrew’s, the world narrowing to just the two of them. Without a word, she threw her arms around him, pulling him close. The warmth of his skin, bare and pressed against hers, sent a thrill straight through her.
She tipped her head up and kissed him softly at first, testing, then deeper, fiercer, as if she needed to make up for all the tension and unspoken words from the day. Andrew responded instantly, his hands sliding down to her waist, pulling her even closer. She felt the solid heat of him beneath her fingertips, the steady pulse of his breath mingling with hers.
Her fingers found the waistband of his swim trunks, tugging them down slowly, teasingly. He caught the motion with a smile, his own hands reaching for the edges of her trunks, lowering them carefully, reverently. They hit the floor, and she knelt. Eye to eye with his cock. Her lips barely brushed the warm skin before seeking him out with tentative curiosity.
Her mouth closed over him, the warmth of her lips wrapping around him like silk. Her tongue traced slow, teasing circles that sent a shiver coursing through both of them. She felt the rapid hitch of his breath, the subtle tremor of tension in his body beneath her. The day’s nerves, the daring bet, the watchful eyes of strangers. It all melted away, leaving only the raw intimacy of this shared moment.
Every sound they made, the shallow breaths, soft moans, the gentle scrape of skin against skin. Wove a delicate symphony that filled the room. Her hands slid up his thighs, gripping lightly, grounding herself in the reality of his heat and hardness. She took him in as far as she could. Swallowing his cock right to his balls. She could taste the salt of his skin, feel the steady beat of his pulse against her tongue. With every glide of her lips, every flick of her tongue, there was desire, trust, hunger, and something tender beneath it all. Time seemed to stretch, the outside world vanishing until there was only this. Only them, tangled in a dance of sensation and need.
They moved together toward the couch, the subtle weight of anticipation pulling them closer. Andrew guided her gently down, and she settled against him, their bodies aligning with a natural ease that felt both tender and inevitable. Her back pressed into the warmth of his chest, every breath he took whispering against her skin like a promise. He wrapped his arms around her, fingers tracing the familiar lines of her shoulders, memorizing the steady beat of his heart beneath his palms.
He shifted slightly, his hands firm yet careful. As he began to enter her from behind. A soft gasp escaped her lips. A mixture of surprise and deep, blossoming pleasure. The sensation was intimate and profound, a slow, deliberate joining that made her feel both vulnerable and cherished. She loved the way he stretched her pussy. With each gentle movement, waves of warmth unfurled through her. Her body was responding to his with a rhythm that was as much about connection as desire. She felt the subtle tightening of muscles, the swell of emotions rising alongside the physical sensations, the shared breathlessness, the quickening heartbeat, the silent conversation in their eyes.
Their bodies moved in harmony, a dance of trust and surrender, each moment drawing them closer to the edge. The world outside faded completely, leaving only the soft sounds of their mingled breaths, the warmth of their skin, and the exquisite closeness that wrapped around them like a cocoon.
When she felt him cum, her own orgasm rose and broke; it swept over her like a tidal wave. Pure, electrifying, and utterly consuming. She clung to him, their pulses racing together as the waves of pleasure rippled through them in perfect sync. As their breaths slowed and hearts steadied, she nestled into his embrace, a quiet smile curving her lips. For a long moment, they simply held each other. Two souls wrapped tightly in a shared moment of tenderness. She kissed him.