Rachel suddenly smirked at the thought and wondered why they weren’t simply wearing underwear instead. It had just been an automatic response to put...on their bikinis. Oh well. Their clothing wouldn’t be staying on too much longer anyway. They both jumped as a gentle knock sounded at the front door. Simultaneously, an incoming text message caused Rachel’s phone to buzz noisily on the counter: I’m outside. The girls exchanged looks and let out matching deep breaths. For as fired up as they. I do that exasperated mum face again and smile, but when I put my hand to my tummy I realise my skirt is wetter than I thought and it’s starting to get a little clammy on my skin as it gets cold. With the towel wrapped safely around me, I undo the clip and lower the zip, and with a wriggle of my hips the skirt is coiled at my feet. Apologising repeatedly, Ben asks if I’m okay. I tell him not to be silly, it’s only a little water, it’s not like it’s going to stain or anything. He says I should. More

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