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Her heart melted. She loved her family more than anything. Nothing in the world was more important to her. She knew she would have to manage the meetings with her Master very carefully.Two hours later things were quiet in the house. Both kids were at the kitchen table doing homework. Brenda was preparing dinner, a normal evening. The sound of the garage door opening announced the arrival of her husband home from work. Both kids looked up and said, "Dads home!" The back door opened and he stepped into the kitchen. Both kids turned in their chairs and yelled, "Hi Dad!" His booming reply followed, "Hi you two!" He walked over to the table and hugged both of them at the same time, kissing each on the tops of their heads. "What are you doing?" A fairly long explanation of their homework followed, mostly incomprehensible because both kids were talking at the same time. Brenda listened to the exchange. So routine it would be easy to miss how really special it was. She thought again how. "I popped two more cubes free, and took up where I'd left off. When I pressed the ice to her soles, Sloan flinched, and her towel fell away.A long moment passed before she spoke. "Sorry to moon you." No worries."She didn't replace the towel.As I gazed upon my sister's ass, my hands began to tremble."The ice—it's c-c-cold," I said.However, I was trembling not from cold, but from fear. This situation was not normal. Sloan and I did not come from some family of freewheeling nudists. Although not ourselves religious, we'd inherited a lingering prudishness from our Protestant forebears (Great-Grandpa Schmeckelbeer had been a pastor). I hadn't seen my sister without clothes since we were toddlers. I'd only seen her a handful of times in a bathing suit (she wasn't a beach person; she sunburned easily). But now, here she was in her naked glory.What did it mean? Did it mean what it seemed: that she was truly so hot and uncomfortable that she couldn't bear to be clothed? Or was there something.
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