I was lying on my bed, pretending to read while watching Dawn move back and forth between her room and the washroom. Every time she passed, she was wearing something different. Once in a while, she would pause in my doorway and ask, “This one?” Most of the time, she wouldn’t even stop to listen to my response.

“I like that one!” I called, hearing her in the washroom again. She came around the corner, and I saw she was wearing red high heels with it, too. Hot. Definitely hot.

“This one? Are you sure?” She turned slightly, showing me her behind.

I frowned. Considering my own response to her outfit, I could imagine the general masculine consensus in the pub. “Maybe not,” I said, changing my mind. “I’d go with the trouser suit.”

She made a face. “It’s too dowdy-I look like mum in that. This is a date, not a job interview.”

“So?” I sat up and looked at her body filling out the clothes. “It’s-it’s sophisticated. Guys like that.”

She snorted. “Guys like skin. I think I’m showing enough, don’t you?”

I cleared my throat. “You’ve got a ladder in your tights.” I pointed to it, high up on her thigh. It must have started near the gusset and worked its way down.

“Bugger!” she swore, twisting to look. “Oh, hell. I just won’t wear any.”

I watched as she kicked off her heels, pulling her skirt up to her waist and sliding the tights down over her knickers. The fake tan material revealed the creamy, smooth white skin of my sister’s thighs and calves as she worked them down. Her knickers were red, too, with white lace edging, riding up into the crack of her arse.

“Dawn!” I exclaimed, sounding shocked, or rather trying to sound shocked.

She grinned back at me, the tights in her hand, slipping her heels back on. “What? It’s not anything you haven’t seen, right?”