Amna was aware that her family was more than a little discomfited by the changes in her appearance, though she made every effort when she visited them to dress in a way that wouldn’t alarm them. But no matter how plain the clothes she wore (and these days it was quite difficult for her to dress especially plainly), nothing could disguise how much fuller her bust now was nor how her face had changed so much. It must have puzzled them, but she was sure they attributed it to the changes that happened to any growing girl. It was good that they had no opportunity to see her shaved vagina, her pierced nipples or her tattoos. Then they might really worry about the wisdom of letting their eldest daughter stay with Aunt Salim. Her parents only asked her the most banal questions about her life, convinced that her newfound wealth was gained through honest toil in the office. Her brothers were too confused by their own physical changes brought about by adolescence to make any judgment about their sister’s own changes.

Her younger sister Dalitha was also growing older. Breasts were beginning to swell beneath her school jumper and blouse, and her figure was fast seeming ill-suited to the clothes of her youth. Inevitably she was more curious about the changes that were happening to her sister. “Will I have boobies like yours?” she asked naïvely. “Will my bum stick out like that?” Amna loved her sister too much to mislead her, so when the moment seemed right, as they walked through the park with their parents’ pet labrador, she explained as best she could what plastic surgery meant, and what it did to a girl. “But don’t tell Mum and Dad. I don’t think they’ll approve.”

However, conversation soon strayed and Amna found herself confessing to her love affair with Fluff, her relationship with Auntie Salim and her friend Fatima, and, of course, about all the men in her life. “But I much prefer Fluff. She’s really lush.” Amna was so used to her current life-style that she’d forgotten how very strange and exotic it seemed to her sister. Dalitha’s eyes widened and her tongue licked across her thin lips.

“Your life is so exciting!” she gasped. “What’s it like having sex? Does it hurt? And do men’s willies really get very stiff? My life’s so boring. I wish I had a life like yours.”

Amna sighed, as the labrador chased after some leaves across the grass, excited by the smells and sights of the city park. “Men are like dogs,” she said, observing the labrador sniff the rear end of a collie. “They just want one thing. And when they’re finished, they just run off to find someone else to fuck … to make love with. Women are much better. Fluff is so lovely in bed. And so beautiful. She’s got the tenderest cunt … personality in the world. And Auntie Salim’s alright too, if a bit boring.”

“It sounds wonderful,” giggled Dalitha excitedly. “Ooh! I’d just love to have sex with a woman if it sounds so good. Do any women have willies?”

Amna blushed, thinking of the strap-on dildo she had chosen not to wear when visiting her family. “Not as such,” she admitted.

Dalitha was a growing girl and was now working part-time in their parents’ shop, so she had her own small income. She was insistent with her pleading that she be allowed to visit Amna at Auntie Salim’s house. It was difficult for Amna to resist. She and her sister had so many happy shared memories together over the years of their childhood together. And she was such a pretty girl. How could anyone resist her? She was shorter than Amna, and also slenderer. Her skin was equally as dark and like her sister dark fur grew on her cheeks and arms. She had a very sweet toothy smile. Her long straight hair fanned over her shoulders and fell into her large dark brown eyes. Amna eventually gave in, forcing her sister to swear on the Koran that she wouldn’t say anything about her life to anyone. “Not even your best friend at school.”

Dalitha frowned. She’d already made hints of this to Khadija and had been looking forward to providing more full and detailed accounts of her older sister’s exciting life, but she saw the wisdom of Amna’s advice. She was a good girl, and she’d never do anything to upset her sister.

Auntie Salim made Dalitha very welcome when she visited, although it was clear that the young girl was finding it all rather boring. Why was her aunt dressed with a scarf and long dress? Amna said that she was usually nude. And Amna wasn’t dressed very sexily either. Her sister’s jeans and baggy tee-shirt were not the outrageous clothes that Amna had confessed to wear most often. They sat together around the television eating the small snacks that Salim had prepared, talking about school and how business was at her parents’ shop. This wasn’t what Dalitha’s adolescent fantasising had made her hope for. All that rubbing her breasts and easing her fingers into her crack had not been expended in fantasies of this! Perhaps Amna had been lying. Showing off. She was glad now she’d not told Khadija or Tabitha more of what her sister had said. She was already rehearsing how she’d relate the evening. Grown-ups were so boring!

However, all that changed when Fluff arrived. Unlike Amna and Salim, she was hiding none of her usual lack of constraint. She wore a sleeveless leather jacket, with her breasts bare beneath and a very tight very short skirt which so readily revealed that she wore no knickers underneath. And, of course, her face! Dalitha had seen pictures of erect penises in the magazines in her parents’ shop and she’d even once seen an erect penis which some horrid man had shown off to her while she was walking home from school. But she’d never seen one tattooed so blatantly across anyone’s face! So, Amna had been right to say that Fluff was a cock-fancier.

Dalitha was introduced to Fluff by Salim who was clearly rather less keen on her than Amna whose face brightened up quite perceptibly. “Fuck me! Your sister’s not bad, is she?” Fluff exclaimed. “Pretty. Like you, Amna sweetest!”

And then, with virtually no prelude and with hardly time for Salim to complain, Fluff was on Amna, kissing her on the face and holding her tightly to her body. “Fuck, Amna! Get this fucking prep gear off. You look like a fucking college girl!”

Dalitha was astonished enough by the language which her parents had mostly sheltered her from and she’d mostly only heard in the school playground. She was even more astonished as Fluff pulled off her jacket and skirt to stand naked in front of Amna. And even more tattoos. And weren’t the nipples pierced too! And the tattoos! Just looking at them made Dalitha feel excited in a way that rather frightened her. All those stiff willies. And some of them had sort of creamy stuff coming out of them! Was this really what grown-up women could get up to?

“Really, Fluff! In front of Amna’s sister!” protested Salim impotently, as Fluff tore off her lover’s clothes. But to no avail. All too soon, Dalitha was treated to the fulsome and disturbing sight of her surgically enhanced sister without the encumbrance of clothing. And her sister had a tattoo on her arm as well, but not one of an erect penis. And then in front of her slightly horrified gaze, her sister and Fluff took themselves onto the sofa and began groping together while Salim stood by, not knowing what to do confronted with this flagrant display of exhibitionism. One body black, breasty and full. The other slim, white and splattered with the weirdest display of the tattooist’s art that Dalitha could ever envisage. And the things they were doing to each other! Those tongues in the private bits. And in each other’s mouth. Fingers probing everywhere. The strange overpowering animal smell. The glistening sweat on each of the girls’ bodies. So, this was what sex was like! It was both like and unlike what Dalitha had imagined. Certainly she’d known from the pictures what two girls in the buff wrapped around each other would look like. But she hadn’t really envisaged its physicality, its sweatiness and it smelliness. And the gasping, grunting, whining, moaning sounds. And then after she didn’t know how long she’d sat in awe on the armchair, the television still babbling on about local news affairs and Auntie Salim still standing transfixed and miserable by the mantelpiece, it all came to a slow end, as both Fluff and Amna finished off with a chorus of cries and then collapsed onto the sofa together.

“Well, I hope you’re both thoroughly ashamed of yourselves,” Salim admonished the girls. “In front of young Dalitha.”

“Oh fuck off!” said Fluff contemptuously. “I’ll do just what I fucking like! If I want to fuck Amna then that’s just what I’ll fucking do.”

The rest of the evening was more sedate, although Fluff and Amna remained naked with their arms entwined round each other. Their clothes were left in an untidy heap on the carpet and it was up to Salim to pick them up, fold them and place them tidily on another chair. Something which she did to Fluff’s clothes with rather more disdain than she did Amna’s. Fluff was entertaining company though, shocking Salim and amusing Dalitha with stories of her recent sex conquests, while Amna occasionally kissed and petted her. Eventually, Fluff departed to see some man whom she’d arranged to see earlier and left a rather embarrassed Salim and the still naked figure of Amna. Salim scolded her niece and then busied herself in the kitchen while Dalitha excitedly talked to her sister about her strange girlfriend. And then, of course, she was driven home by Auntie Salim, while the still naked Amna sat in front of the television watching some sex soap opera on one of the cable sex channels that her parents did not subscribe to.

This was not the last visit that Dalitha made to Aunt Salim’s apartment. Indeed, it was the first of many regular visits. Amna, however, no longer made any effort to dress any differently when her sister visited, if she made any effort to dress at all. Aunt Salim, on the other hand, was clearly embarrassed by her niece’s semi-nudity or even full nudity, but she had clearly abandoned all attempt to restrain her from dressing as she wished, although she herself dressed as before, with a scarf hiding her hair and a dress that hid most of her body. Nevertheless, the visits did not normally involve seeing Amna having sex with Fluff or anyone else. The three of them would watch television and sometimes Dalitha would rest in Amna’s room where they would listen to her older sister’s records and flick through her magazines.

She also met Fatima who dressed no differently to her aunt and was equally as polite and restrained: indulging in none of the sexual practices that Amna had said she often did. However, she was still fun company and was clearly very fond of her sister. She made no mention of her professional relations with Amna and kept the conversation well clear of such matters.

Fluff was quite different whenever she visited, which was not frequently. Her visits, however, were always unannounced and always involved sex with her sister. Dalitha was not sure of the strange feelings erupting inside her as she watched her sister and her lover together indulging in the passionate love that was so sweaty, so unrestrained and so physical. There was a strange warmth emanating from between her legs and she was sometimes short of breath as the bodies enmeshed on the floor, on the sofa, against the wall and even in the bed. Aunt Salim stayed within sight, watching the two lovers not with Dalitha’s curiosity and wonderment, but more with an expression of disgust mixed with a kind of sadness.

“Fuck, Salim!” remarked Fluff, Amna’s strap-on dildo deep inside her and her shaved head pressed against the back of the sofa. “Why don’t you join in, instead of just watching like that?”

Salim shook her head sadly, but made no comment.

“And you, Dalitha? Don’t you want to join in?”

Dalitha gasped, conscious of a sudden tightening of her chest. Could she? Was it right? With her sister?

“Well, at least have a feel of what it’s like,” Fluff commanded, placing a hand on the dildo and holding Amna still with her other hand. “Come here and touch it!”

Dalitha looked at her Aunt Salim through startled eyes. Her aunt shook her head disapprovingly. She returned her gaze to her sister, who smiled mischievously. “It won’t do any harm just to touch,” she said with a smile.

Dalitha walked up to her sister and gingerly put her hand forward to where the dark rubber met Fluff’s nicely trimmed vagina. She tenderly placed a hand on one side of it. It was strangely warm and very sticky. A small warm trickle of vaginal juice flowed down onto her thumb. Dalitha lowered her hand down the length of the dildo and felt the brush of warm, hard flesh where the dildo penetrated Fluff, the folds of the vulva erupting like the petals of a peculiarly pink flower on either side. She was both horrified and fascinated by the details of Fluff’s vagina. All those folds! All those crevices between the thick flesh! And the contrast of such detail with the smooth uninterrupted contours of her stomach and the small hard breasts above. She voiced a strangulated gasp and, frightened by the strong feelings that tightened her own chest, she hurriedly removed her hand and stood back.

“Good, isn’t it?” said Fluff with an amused smile, as Amna recommenced her steady rhythmic thrusts in and out of her vagina. “And it’s much better to be doing it than watching it!”

Dalitha stood back. What was she thinking? She ran over to Aunt Salim by the mantelpiece and without thinking grasped her aunt’s hand. She watched as her sister and her lover became more and more physical, and the thrusting became fiercer and fiercer. Clearly her brief intercession in their lovemaking had stimulated the two girls to even more ferocity and passion. Aunt Salim seemed a little startled by Dalitha’s gesture but she didn’t relinquish her niece’s hand, although she did nothing to encourage it.

And soon Fluff and Amna were finished. In the postcoital pause that followed, Dalitha let go of her aunt’s hand, aware of what it might seem to suggest, and embarrassedly sat down on the sofa. Amna smiled strangely as her sister positioned herself, her arms clasped between the legs of her jeans and a bright red blush spread over her face. No comment was made of what had happened, even from Fluff, who as usual left to meet another of her many male lovers. The rest of the evening was spent innocently enough, watching the television, with Amna fully naked except for the grotesque black dildo which dangled awkwardly between her legs and still shimmered from the traces of Fluff’s vaginal orgasm.

It was perhaps inevitable that the next time that Dalitha visited her aunt’s flat, it was a different occasion to all those that had come before. Dalitha herself had half-expected it to be different, although she had shied away from any coherent thought of how different it might be. The memory of her close encounter with Fluff’s vagina remained with her; seemed, in fact, to be imprinted on the tips of her fingers where they had touched her. The memory of that droplet of vaginal juice still seemed sticky on her fingers. Her nights were spent in lonely agonised masturbation, not focused on anything specific but bringing her to gasps which she hoped her parents hadn’t heard and a hot sweat that she hoped would go before the morning.

When she went up to the flat, after ringing the doorbell, she found Amna sitting naked on the sofa next to her aunt who, for the first time, was not wearing a scarf over her hair. Nor, for that matter, her long dark dress. Unlike Amna, she wasn’t naked. She was wearing red silk lingerie which revealed to Dalitha for the first time that her aunt was really quite attractive. Aunt Salim’s body was clearly a woman’s body, and not at all like a girl’s. Her breasts were full, the thighs and hips were also more full, and her arms had a womanly plumpness and none of the girlish slimness of her sister’s arms. She still looked a little awkward, however, and somewhat embarrassed.

Dalitha sat down on the chair that had almost become her own, settling into the familiar cushions, aware that the television was off and that the stereo was playing some soft ambient jazz music. She smiled awkwardly at her sister and her aunt. “Aren’t we watching Homefield Grove?” she asked, aware that this was the time the soap opera normally began.

Amna smiled broadly and ignored her question. “Why don’t you take off your clothes?” she asked quietly.

“What!” gasped Dalitha. “I couldn’t …”

“Don’t be silly. You know you’d feel more comfortable if you did. And anyway I don’t wear any, do I?”

“I’m not sure that…” Dalitha began, but nevertheless surrendered to her sister’s request. She pulled off the tee-shirt she wore with its picture of the boy band In Tune. It eased off over her shoulders and she pulled her arms through its elbow-length sleeves. She then unstrapped her bra so her rounded, still forming breasts were revealed: the nipples puffed up a slightly darker brown than the rest of her breasts. And then she hooked her thumbs into the waist of her shorts, pulling them over her slim legs and over her trainers. She sat there wearing just her frilly cotton knickers and her air-soled trainers glancing up at Amna and Aunt Salim. Amna gestured impatiently that Dalitha remove these last vestiges, which Dalitha did: starting with the trainers, which she placed neatly by the pile of clothes she’d already removed, and then with a blush that gave a shine to her face and chest, she removed her knickers to reveal the smooth hair which had spread over her crotch and the vaginal crack which pursed inwards rather than out like her sister’s.

Amna smiled, and then without a word unstrapped Aunt Salim’s own bra from behind, revealing two very round apple-shaped but still womanly breasts: the nipples large in a deep aurora of a darker brown than the rest of her light brown freckled skin. She kissed her aunt tenderly on the cheek. “What do you think of Aunt Sally? Don’t you think she’s beautiful?”

Salim blushed visibly and smiled despite herself. Dalitha sighed. “She’s very pretty,” she ventured.

“And not just here!” announced Amna. Salim stood up shyly and removed her own knickers, pulling them down over her long slender legs and revealing a very neat vagina, almost as beautiful as Fluff’s but without any of the folds that hung from Amna’s lover’s crotch. The hair was thick, but smooth, sparser than Dalitha’s own, forming an almost perfect triangle so much darker than her golden brown flesh.

Dalitha gasped, but sat paralysed. She felt her skin tighten around her face and the nipples on her breasts were hardening. “She’s very pretty,” she repeated. “Very pretty!”

“Have a feel,” offered Amna standing up by her aunt and wrapping an arm around her. “Don’t be afraid. Aunt Sally is very gentle.”

Dalitha knew that Amna and her aunt made love together, but it had never occurred to her that she might also get to know her in that way. Nervously, she stood up and walked over to Salim. Her aunt leaned down to her smaller niece and gave her a tender kiss on the lips. Dalitha gasped. Unsure of what to do, she put her arms around her aunt, just below her shoulders, leaned her head up, and then kissed her aunt back in return.

Gradually, bit by bit, the awkward fumblings became less awkward, the kisses became more passionate. As the two girls became more intimate, Dalitha couldn’t help wondering why this was happening. Was it just that her aunt found her attractive? Was it that her aunt loved her? Or was it, as she came to believe more firmly from the odd verbal encouragement from her sister that this encounter was engineered by Amna. And had her aunt agreed because it seemed the lesser of two evils? And if so, what was the other evil? Her mind flashed back to her brief encounter with Fluff’s flesh and it seemed clear to her, while all else began to lose focus as her tongue encircled Aunt Salim’s nipples and her aunt ran her long fingers up and down her slim back. It would have been either Aunt Salim or Fluff. And in this way, her aunt was in some sense protecting her.

“So beautiful! And so tasty!” said Amna encouragingly as Salim and Dalitha lay on the sofa, guiding her sister down to Salim’s vagina as Dalitha’s tongue probed the tight contours of her aunt’s belly button. Indeed, it did taste strange. And the smell was so overpowering. And then her aunt swivelled round, above her, and she felt the muscular moistness of a tongue probe her own crotch. And then around her tiny clitoris. A tremor of pleasure shook her body, followed by another. And then another. Her crotch shook violently. And then that tongue probed deeper into her, deeper than anything except her own fingers had ever been before.

And soon Dalitha was in Salim’s bed. Amna left them, content that her role in this exchange was complete, and Dalitha was in a delirium of pleasure and ecstasy orchestrated and excited by her aunt, who nonetheless ensured that only her tongue and none of her fingers violated her own vagina. Her nipples were damp with sweat and saliva, her mouth retained the taste of Salim’s mouth and the faint odour of herbs and spices, her taut young buttocks pressed against the silk sheets. She looked at Salim. Do I love you? she asked as she looked up at the vagina above her face, her tongue aching from the effort of licking that tender acid-smelling receptacle. Is it love I feel? She spasmed again, uncertain of the feelings and emotions that erupted inside her. If this is love, it’s not as I expected it? So animal. So physical. And she loved the taste of Salim’s skin. Salty and sweet. The curves of those thighs. The folds of the vagina. That freckled brown face, and the dark pupils in the bright eyes. And the hair with such a strange smell of its own as it fell onto her face and entangled with her own hair.

And in all this, Salim was strangely quiet. Her own thoughts were a confusion of lust, desire and guilt. At least, she thought, this kept her darling niece away from that disgusting Fluff. And yes, she did enjoy it. It was almost like the love she used to know from her darling Amna before she’d been corrupted by all her sex film friends. It was the innocent, non-penetrative love she’d enjoyed so much before. She felt some guilt and remorse from reflecting on how young her niece was, but it wasn’t her youth that attracted her to Dalitha. It was perhaps her innocence. Or was it the beauty of those slender thighs, those large reflective eyes. The smooth dark skin, hairy as it was beginning to be, still unshaven under the arms, and tasting sweeter than even Amna.

It worried her slightly where all this would lead. What would happen next? Was this where Amna’s demands on her lovemaking with her sister end? But undeniably, it had resolved some of that strong feeling that had exploded inside her when Dalitha held her hand while they watched Amna and Fluff at play. That explosion of emotion and lust that both Amna and Fluff had noticed and which Amna had so mercilessly exploited. But was it wrong? Was this a sin?

Hardly, she mused, her teeth and lips nibbling gently on Dalitha’s clitoris, feeling her niece’s ecstatic spasms. How could something so beautiful, so wonderful, be sinful? Surely Allah would know that this was no sin and, in any case, being between women and within the sacred confines of family, how could this ever be seen as anything other than the purest of love.